History of Roman Classical Literature (2025)

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Browne's History of Roman Classical Literature;

 A HISTORY

 OF

 ROMAN CLASSICAL

 LITERATURE.

 BY

 R. W. BROWNE, M.A., PH.D., PREBENDARY OF ST. PAUL’S, AND PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL LITERATURE IN KING’S COLLEGE, LONDON.

Meum semper judicium fuit, omnia nostros aut invenisse per se sapientius quam Græcos; aut accepta ab illis fecisse meliora, quæ quidem digne statuissent in quibus elaborarent.

 Cic. _Tusc. Disp._ I.

 PHILADELPHIA: BLANCHARD AND LEA. 1853.

 WM. S. YOUNG, PRINTER.

 PREFACE.

The history of Roman Classical Literature, although it comprehends thenames of many illustrious writers and many voluminous works, is,chronologically speaking, contained within narrow limits. Dating fromits earliest infancy, until the epoch when it ceased to deserve thetitle of classical, its existence occupies a period of less than fourcenturies.

The imperial city had been founded for upwards of five hundred yearswithout exhibiting more than those rudest germs of literary taste whichare common to the most uncivilized nations, without producing a singleauthor either in poetry or prose.

The Roman mind, naturally vigorous and active, was still uncultivated,when, about two centuries and a half before the Christian era,[1]conquest made the inhabitants of the capital acquainted, for the firsttime, with Greek science, art, and literature; and the last rays ofclassic taste and learning ceased to illumine the Roman world before theaccession of the Antonines.[2]

Such a history, however, must be introduced by a reference to times ofmuch higher antiquity. The language itself must be examinedhistorically, that is, its progress and its formation from its primitiveelements, must be traced with reference to the influences exercised uponit from without by the natives who spoke the dialects out of which itwas composed; and the earliest indications of a taste for poetry, and adesire to cultivate the intellectual powers, must be marked and followedout in their successive stages of development. In this investigation, itwill be seen how great the difficulties were with which literary men hadto struggle under the Republic—difficulties principally arising from thephysical activity of the people, and the practical character of theRoman mind, which led the majority to undervalue and despise devotion tosedentary and contemplative pursuits.

The Roman, in the olden times, had a high and self-denying sense ofduty—he was ambitious, but his ambition was for the glory, not ofhimself, but his country; he thus lived for conquest: his motive,however, was not self-aggrandizement but the extension of the dominationof Rome. When the state came to be merged in the individual, generalsand statesmen sought to heap up wealth and to acquire power; but it wasnot so in the Republican times. Owing to these characteristic features,the Roman citizen conceived it to be his duty to devote his energies tothe public service: he concentrated all his powers, mental and bodily,upon war and politics; he despised all other occupations and sources offame; for he was conscious that his country owed her position amongstnations to her military prowess, and her liberties at home to the wiseadministration of her constitution.

Hence it will be seen, that there never was a period in which literaturedid not require to be fostered and protected by the patronage of thewealthy and powerful. Even tragedy never captivated the feelings oracquired an influence over the minds of the people at large as it did inGreece; it degenerated into mere recitations in a dramatic form,addressed like any other poetry to a _coterie_. Comedy formed the onlyexception to this rule. It was the only species of literature which themasses thoroughly enjoyed. Learning was a sickly plant: patronage wasthe artificial heat which brought it to maturity. Accius was patronizedby D. Brutus; Ennius by Lucilius and the Scipios; Terence by Africanusand Lælius; Lucretius by the Memmii; Tibullus by Messala; Propertius byÆlius Gallus; Virgil and his friends by Augustus, Mæcenas, and Pollio;Martial and Quintilian by Domitian.

As the conquest of Magna Græcia, Sicily, and, finally, of Greece itself,first directed to the pursuit of intellectual cultivation a people whosenational literature, even if it deserved to be so called, was of therudest and most meager description, Roman literature was, as might beexpected, the offspring of the Greek, and its beauties a reflexion ofthe Greek mind; and although some portions were more original thanothers, as being more congenial to the national character—such, forexample, as satire, oratory, and history—it was, upon the whole, neveranything more than an imitation. It had, therefore, all the faults of animitation. As in painting, those that study the old masters, and neglectnature, are nothing more than copyists, however high the finish andelaborate the polish of their works may be; so in the literature ofRome, we are delighted with the execution, and charmed with the genius,wit, and ingenuity, but we seek in vain for the enthusiasm andinspiration which breathes in every part of the original.

One faculty of the greatest importance to literary eminence waspossessed by the Romans in the highest perfection, because it may beacquired as well as innate, and is always improved and polished byeducation: that faculty is taste—the ability, as Addison defines it, todiscern the beauties of an author with pleasure, and his imperfectionswith dislike.

Of the three periods into which this history is divided, the first maybe considered as _dramatic_. Eloquence, indeed, made rapid strides, andC. Gracchus may be considered as the father of Latin prose; but thelanguage was not sufficiently smoothed and polished; the sentiments ofthe orator were far superior to the diction in which they were conveyed.Jurisprudence also was studied with thoughtfulness and accuracy;history, however, was nothing more than annals, and epic poetry ruggedand monotonous. But the acting tragedy of the Romans is almostexclusively confined to this period; and the comedies of Plautus andTerence were then written, which have survived to command the admirationof modern times. Although, at this epoch, the language was elaboratelypolished and embellished with the utmost variety of graceful forms andexpressions, it was simple and unconstrained: it flowed easily andnaturally, and was therefore full and copious; brevity and epigrammaticterseness are acquired qualities, and the result of art, although thatart may be skilfully concealed.

The second period consists of two subdivisions, of which the first wasthe era of _prose_, and, consequently, the period at which the languageattained its greatest perfection; for the structure, power, and geniusof a language must be judged of by its prose, and not by its poetry.Cicero is the representative of this era as an orator andphilosopher—Cæsar and Sallust as historians. The second subdivision, orthe Augustan age, is the era of poetry, for in it poetry arrived at thesame eminence which prose had attained in the preceding generation. Butthe age of Cicero and that of Augustus can only be made subdivisions ofone great period; they are not separated from each other by a strongline of demarkation; they are blended together, and gradually melt intoone another. In the former, Lucretius and Catullus were the harbingersof Virgil, Horace, and Ovid; and, in the latter, the sun of Cicero,Cæsar, and Sallust, seems to set in the sweet narrative of Livy.

The last period is _rhetorical_: it has been called “the silver age.” Itproduced Rome’s only fabulist, Phædrus; the greatest satirist, Juvenal;the wittiest epigrammatist, Martial; the most philosophical historian,Tacitus; the most judicious critic, Quintilian; and a letter-writer,scarcely inferior to Cicero himself, the younger Pliny; and yet,notwithstanding these illustrious names, this is the period of thedecline. These great names shed a lustre over their generation; but theydid not influence their taste or arrest the approaching decay of thenational genius: causes were at work which were rapidly producing thiseffect, and they were beyond their control. A new and false standard oftaste was now set up, which was inconsistent with original genius andindependent thought. Rome was persuaded, to accept a declamatoryrhetoric as a substitute for that fervid eloquence in which she haddelighted, and which was now deprived of its use, and was driven fromthe Forum to the lecture-room. This taste infected every species ofcomposition. Seneca abused his fine talents to teach men to admirenothing so much as glitter, novelty, and affectation; and, at length,all became constrained, hollow, and artificial. With the nationalliberty, the national intellect lapsed into a state of inactivity: aperiod of intellectual darkness succeeded, the influence which thecapital had lost was taken up by the provinces, and thus the way waspaved for the inroad of barbarism.

Such is the outline of this work; and if the reader finds some features,which he considers of great importance, rapidly touched upon, the extentof the subject, and the wish to compress it within a moderate compass,must be offered as the author’s apology. In conclusion, the authoracknowledges his deep obligations to those historians and biographerswhose works he has consulted during the composition of this history. Hefeels that it would have been presumptuous to offer such a work to thepublic without having profited by the laborious investigations of Wolf,Bayle, Hermann, Grotefend, Bernhardy, Bähr, Schlegel, Lachmann, Dunlop,Matthiæ, Schoell, Krause, Ritter, Nisard, Pierron, Niebuhr, Milman,Arnold, Merivale, Donaldson, Smith, and the authors of the “BiographieUniverselle.”

 CONTENTS.

 BOOK I.

 FIRST ERA.

 CHAPTER I.

 PAGE.

Comparison of the Latin language with the Greek—Eras of Latinity—Origin of the Romans—Elements of the Latin language—Etruscan influence 33

 CHAPTER II.

The Eugubine Tables—Existence of Oscan in Italy—Bantine Table—Perugian Inscription—Etruscan Alphabet and Words—Chant of Fratres Arvales—Salian Hymn—Other Monuments of Old Latin—Latin and Greek Alphabets compared 44

 CHAPTER III.

Saturnian Metre—Opinions respecting its origin—Early examples of this Metre—Saturnian Ballads in Livy—Structure of the Verse—Instances of Rhythmical Poetry 60

 CHAPTER IV.

Three periods of Roman Classical Literature—Its Elements rude—Roman Religion—Etruscan influence—Early Historical Monuments—Fescennine Verses—Fabulæ Atellanæ—Introduction of Stage-Players—Derivation of Satire 67

 CHAPTER V.

Emancipation of Livius Andronicus—His imitation of the Odyssey—New kind of Scenic Exhibitions—First exhibition of his Dramas—Nævius a Political Partisan—His bitterness—His Punic War—His nationality—His versification 76

 CHAPTER VI.

Nævius stood between two Ages—Life of Ennius—Epitaphs written by him—His taste, learning, and character—His fitness for being a Literary Reformer—His influence on the language—His versification—The Annals—Difficulties of the Subject—Tragedies and Comedies—Satire—Minor Works 90

 CHAPTER VII.

The New Comedy of the Greeks the Model of the Roman—The Morality of Roman Comedy—Want of variety in the Plots of Roman Comedy—Dramatis Personæ—Costume—Characters—Music—Latin Pronunciation—Metrical Licenses—Criticism of Volcatius—Life of Plautus—Character of his Comedies—Analysis of his Plots 99

 CHAPTER VII.

Statius compared with Menander—Criticism of Cicero—Hypotheses respecting the early life of Terence—Anecdote related by Donatus—Style and Morality of Terence—Anecdote of him related by Cornelius Nepos—His pecuniary circumstances and death—Plots and Criticism of his Comedies—The remaining Comic Poets 118

 CHAPTER VIII.

Why Tragedy did not flourish at Rome—National Legends not influential with the People—Fabulæ Prætextatæ—Roman Religion not ideal—Roman love for Scenes of Real Action and Gorgeous Spectacle—Tragedy not patronised by the People—Pacuvius—His Dulorestes and Paulus 140

 CHAPTER IX.

L. Attius—His Tragedies and Fragments—Other Works—Tragedy disappeared with him—Roman Theatres—Traces of the Satiric Spirit in Greece—Roman Satire—Lucilius—Criticisms of Horace, Cicero, and Quintilian—Passage quoted by Lactantius—Lævius a Lyric Poet 152

 CHAPTER X.

Prose Literature—Prose suitable to Roman Genius—History, Jurisprudence, and Oratory—Prevalence of Greek—Q. Fabius Pictor—L. Cincius Alimentus—C. Acilius Glabrio—Value of the Annalists—Important literary period, during which Cato Censors flourished—Sketch of his Life—His character, genius, and style 162

 CHAPTER XI.

The Origines of Cato—Passage quoted by Gellius—Treatise De Re Rustica—Orations—L. Cassius Hemina—Historians in the Days of the Gracchi—Traditional Anecdote of Romulus—Autobiographers—Fragment of Quadrigarius—Falsehoods of Antias—Sisenna—Tubero 176

 CHAPTER XII.

Early Roman Oratory—Eloquence of Appius Claudius Cæcus—Funeral Orations—Defence of Scipio Africanus Major—Scipio Africanus Minor Æmilianus—Era of the Gracchi—Their Characters—Interval between the Gracchi and Cicero—M. Antonius—L. Licinius Crassus—Q. Hortensius—Causes of his early popularity and subsequent failure 187

 CHAPTER XIII.

Study of Jurisprudence—Earliest Systematic Works on Roman Law—Groundwork of the Roman Civil Law—Eminent Jurists—The Scævolæ—Ælius Gallus—C. Aquilius Gallus, a Law Reformer—Other Jurists—Grammarians 204

 BOOK II.

 THE ERA OF CICERO AND AUGUSTUS.

 CHAPTER I.

Prose the Test of the condition of a Language—Dramatic Literature extinct—Mimes—Difference between Roman and Greek Mimes—Laberius—Passages from his Poetry—Matius Calvena—Mimiambi—Publius Syrus—Roman Pantomime—Its licentiousness—Principal actors of Pantomime 211

 CHAPTER II.

Lucretius a Poet rather than a Philosopher—His Life—Epic structure of his Poem—Variety of his Poetry—Extracts from his Poem—Argument of it—The Epicurean Doctrines contained in it—Morality of Epicurus and Lucretius—Testimonies of Virgil and Ovid—Catullus, his Life, Character, and Poetry—Other Poets of this period 220

 CHAPTER III.

Age of Virgil favourable to Poetry—His birth, education, habits, illness, and death—His popularity and character—His minor Poems, the Culex, Ciris, Moretum, Copa, and Catalecta—His Bucolics—Italian manners not suited to Pastoral Poetry—Idylls of Theocritus—Classification of the Bucolics—Subject of the Pollio—Heyne’s theory respecting it 238

 CHAPTER IV.

Beauty of Didactic Poetry—Elaborate finish of the Georgics—Roman love of Rural Pursuits—Hesiod suitable as a Model—Condition of Italy—Subjects treated of in the Georgics—Some striking passages enumerated—Influence of Roman Literature on English Poetry—Sources from which the incidents of the Æneid are derived—Character of Æneas—Criticism of Niebuhr 252

 CHAPTER V.

The Libertini—Roman feelings as to Commerce—Birth and infancy of Horace—His early education at Rome—His Military career—He returns to Rome—Is introduced to Mæcenas—Commences the Satires—Mæcenas gives him his Sabine Farm—His country life—The Epodes—Epistles—Carmen Seculare—Illness and death 264

 CHAPTER VI.

Character of Horace—Descriptions of his Villa at Tivoli, and his Sabine Farm—Site of the Bandusian Fountain—The neighbouring Scenery—Subjects of his Satires and Epistles—Beauty of his Odes—Imitations of Greek Poets—Spurious Odes—Chronological Arrangement 278

 CHAPTER VII.

Biography of Mæcenas—His intimacy and influence with Augustus—His character—Valgius Rufus—Varius—Cornelius Gallus—Biography of Tibullus—His style—Criticism of Muretus—Propertius—Imitated the Alexandrian Poets—Æmilius Macer 295

 CHAPTER VIII.

Birth and education of Ovid—His rhetorical powers—Anecdote related by Seneca—His poetical genius—Self-indulgent life—Popularity—Banishment—Place of his Exile—Epistles and other Works—Gratius Faliscus—Pedo Albinovanus—Aulus Sabinus—Marcus Manilius 307

 CHAPTER IX.

Prose Writers—Influence of Cicero upon the Language—His converse with his Friends—His early Life—Pleads his first Cause—Is Quæstor, Ædile, Prætor, and Consul—His exile, return, and provincial Administration—His vacillating conduct—He delivers his Philippics—Is proscribed and assassinated—His character 320

 CHAPTER X.

Cicero no Historian—His Oratorical style defended—Its principal charm—Observations on his forensic Orations—His Oratory essentially judicial—Political Orations—Rhetorical Treatises—The object of his Philosophical Works—Characteristics of Roman Philosophical Literature—Philosophy of Cicero—His Political Works—Letters—His Correspondents—Varro 332

 CHAPTER XI.

Roman Historical Literature—Principal Historians—Lucceius—Lucullus—Cornelius Nepos—Opinions of the genuineness of the Works which bear his Name—Biography of J. Cæsar—His Commentaries—Their style and language—His modesty overrated—Other Works—Character of Cæsar 355

 CHAPTER XII.

Life of Sallust—His insincerity—His Historical Works—He was a bitter opponent of the New Aristocracy—Profligacy of that Order—His style compared with that of Thucydides—His value as an Historian—Trogus Pompeius—His Historiæ Philippicæ 369

 CHAPTER XIII.

Life of Livy—His object in writing his History—Its spirit and character—Livy precisely suited to his Age—Not wilfully inaccurate—His political bias accounted for—Materials which he might have used—Sources of History—His defects as an Historian—His style—Grammarians—Vitruvius Pollio, an Augustine Writer—Contents of his Work 377

 BOOK III.

 ERA OF THE DECLINE.

 CHAPTER I.

Decline of Roman Literature—It became declamatory—Biography of Phædrus—Genuineness of his Fables—Moral and Political Lessons inculcated in them—Specimens of Fables—Fables suggested by Historical events—Sejanus and Tiberius—Epoch unfavourable to Literature—Ingenuity of Phædrus—Superiority of Æsop—The style of Phædrus classical 390

 CHAPTER II.

Dramatic Literature in the Augustan Age—Revival under Nero—Defects of the Tragedies attributed to Seneca—Internal evidence of their authorship—Seneca the Philosopher a Stoic—Inconsistent and unstable—The sentiments of his Philosophical Works found in his Tragedies—Parallel passages compared—French School of Tragic Poets 403

 CHAPTER III.

Biography of Persius—His schoolboy days—His friends—His purity and modesty—His defects as a Satirist—Subject of his Satires—Obscurity of his style—Compared with Horace—Biography of Juvenal—Corruption of Roman Morals—Critical observations on the Satires—Their Historical value—Style of Juvenal—He was the last of Roman Satirists 412

 CHAPTER IV.

Biography of Lucan—Inscription to his Memory—Sentiments expressed in the Pharsalia—Lucan an unequal Poet—Faults and merits of the Pharsalia—Characteristics of his Age—Difficulties of Historical Poetry—Lucan a descriptive Poet—Specimens of his Poetry—Biography of Silius Italicus—His character by Pliny—His Poem dull and tedious—His description of the Alps 428

 CHAPTER V.

C. Valerius Flaccus—Faults of the Argonautica—Papinius Statius—Beauty of his minor Poems—Incapable of Epic Poetry—Domitian—Epigram—Martial—His Biography—Profligacy of the Age in which he lived—Impurity of his Writings—Favourable specimens of his Poetry 441

 CHAPTER VI.

Aufidius Bassus and Cremutius Cordus—Velleius Paterculus—Character of his Works—Valerius Maximus—Cornelius Tacitus—Age of Trajan—Biography of Tacitus—His extant Works enumerated—Agricola—Germany—Histories—Traditions respecting the Jews—Annals—Object of Tacitus—His character—His style 455

 CHAPTER VII.

C. Suetonius Tranquillus—His Biography—Sources of his History—His great fault—Q. Curtius Rufus—Time when he flourished doubtful—His Biography, of Alexander—Epitomes of L. Annæus Florus—Sources whence he derived them 469

 CHAPTER VIII.

M. Annæus Seneca—His Controversiæ and Suasoriæ—L. Annæus Seneca—Tutor to Nero—His enormous fortune—His death and character—Inconsistencies in his Philosophy—A favourite with early Christian Writers—His Epistles—Work on Natural Phenomena—Apocolocyntosis—His style 476

 CHAPTER IX.

Pliny the Elder—His habits described by his Nephew—His industry and application—His death in the eruption of Vesuvius—The Eruption described in two Letters of Pliny the Younger—The Natural History of Pliny—Its subjects described—Pliny the Younger—His affection for his guardian—His Panegyric, Letters, and Despatches—That concerning the Christians—The answer 483

 CHAPTER X.

M. Fabius Quintilianus—His Biography—His Institutiones Oratoriæ—His views of Education—Division of his Subject into Five Parts—Review of Greek and Roman Literature—Completeness of his great Work—His other Works—His disposition—Grief for the loss of his son 499

 CHAPTER XI.

A. Cornelius Celsus—His merits—Cicero Medicorum—Scribonius Largus Designatianus—Pomponius Mela—L. Junius Moderatus Columella—S. Julius Frontinus—Decline of taste in the Silver Age—Foreign Influence on Roman Literature—Conclusion 508

Chronological Table 515

 ROMAN CLASSICAL LITERATURE

 BOOK I. FIRST ERA.

 CHAPTER I.

COMPARISON OF THE LATIN LANGUAGE WITH THE GREEK—ERAS OF LATINITY—ORIGIN

 OF THE ROMANS—ELEMENTS OF THE LATIN LANGUAGE—ETRUSCAN INFLUENCE.

The various races which, from very remote antiquity, inhabited thepeninsula of Italy, necessarily gave a composite character to the Latinlanguage. But as all of them sprang from one common origin, the greatIndo-European stock to which also the Hellenic family belonged, arelation of the most intimate kind is visible between the languages ofancient Greece and Rome. Not only are their alphabets and grammaticalconstructions identical, but the genius of the one is so similar to thatof the other, that the Romans readily adopted the principles of Greekliterary taste, and Latin, without losing its own characteristicfeatures, moulded itself after the Greek model.

Latin, however, has not the plastic property which the Greekpossesses—the natural faculty of transforming itself into every varietyof shape conceived by the fancy and imagination. It is a hardermaterial, it readily takes a polish, but the process by which itreceives it is laborious and artificial. Greek, like a liquid or a softsubstance, seems to crystallize as it were spontaneously into the mostbeautiful forms: Latin, whether poetry or prose, derives only fromconsummate art and skill that graceful beauty which is the naturalproperty of the kindred language.

Latin, also, to continue the same metaphor, has other characteristicfeatures of hard substances—gravity, solidity, and momentum or energy.It is a fit language for embodying and expressing the thoughts of anactive and practical but not an imaginative and speculative people.

But the Latin language, notwithstanding its nervous energy andconstitutional vigour, has, by no means, exhibited the permanency andvitality of the Greek. The Greek language, reckoning from the earliestworks extant to the present day, boasts of an existence measured bynearly one-half the duration of the human race, and yet how gradual werethe changes during the classical periods, and how small, when comparedwith those of other European languages, the sum and result of them all!Setting aside the differences due to race and physical organization,there are no abrupt chasms, no broad lines of demarkation, between oneliterary period and another. The transition is gentle, slow, andgradual. The successive steps can be traced and followed out. Theliterary style of one period melts and is absorbed into that of thefollowing one, just like the successive tints and colours of the prism.The Greek of the Homeric poems is not so different from that ofHerodotus and Thucydides, or the tragedians or the orators, or even theauthors of the later debased ages, but that the same scholar whounderstands the one can analyze the rest. Though separated by so manyages, the contemporaries of Demosthenes could appreciate the beauties ofHomer; and the Byzantines and early Christian fathers wrote and spokethe language of the ancient Greek philosophers.

The Greek language long outlived Greek nationality. The earliest Romanhistorians wrote in Greek because they had as yet no native languagefitter to express their thoughts. The Romans, in the time of Cicero,made Greek the foundation of a liberal education, and frequented Athensas a University for the purpose of studying Greek literature andphilosophy. The great orator, in his defence of the poet Archias,informs us that Greek literature was read by almost all nations of theworld, whilst Latin was still confined within very narrow boundaries. Atthe commencement of the Christian era Greek was so prevalent throughoutthe civilized world, that it was the language chosen by the Evangelistsfor recording the doctrines of the gospel. In the time of Hadrian, Greekwas the favourite language of literary men. The Princess Anna Comnena,daughter of the Emperor Alexis, and Eustathius, the commentator onHomer, both of whom nourished in the twelfth century after the birth ofChrist, are celebrated for the singular purity of their style; and,lastly, Philelphus, who lived in the fifteenth century, and had visitedConstantinople, states, in a letter dated A. D. 1451, that although muchbad Greek was spoken in that capital, the court, and especially theladies, retained the dignity and elegance which characterize the purestwriters of the classical ages. “Græci quibus lingua depravata non sit,et quos ipsi tum sequimur tum imitamur ita loquuntur vulgo etiam hactempestate ut Aristophanes comicus ut Euripides tragicus, ut oratoresomnes ut historiographi ut philosophi etiam ipsi et Plato etAristoteles. Viri aulici veterem sermonis dignitatem atque elegantiamretinebant.”[3]

Such was the wonderful vitality of Greek in its ancient form; and yet,strange to say, notwithstanding it clung so to existence, it seems asthough it was a plant of such delicate nature, that it could onlyflourish under a combination of favourable circumstances. It pined andwithered when separated from the living Greek intellect. It lived onlywhere Greeks themselves lived, in their fatherland or in their colonies.It refused to take root elsewhere. Whenever in any part of the world aGreek settlement decayed, and the population became extinct, evenalthough Greek art and science, and literature and philosophy, had foundthere a temporary home, the language perished also.

The Greek language could not exist when the fostering care of nativegenius was withdrawn: it then shrunk back again into its originaldimensions, and was confined within the boundaries of its original home.When the Greeks in any place passed away, their language did notinfluence or amalgamate with that of the people which succeeded them.Latin, on the other hand, was propagated like the dominion of Rome byconquest; it either took the place of the language of the conquerednation, or became engrafted upon it and gradually pervaded itscomposition. Hence its presence is discernible in all Europeanlanguages. In Spain it became united with the Celtic and Iberian asearly as the period of the Gracchi: it was planted in Gaul by theconquests of Julius Cæsar, and in Britain (so far as the names oflocalities are concerned) by his transient expeditions; and lastly, inthe reign of Trajan, it became permanently fixed in the distant regionsof Dacia and Pannonia.

It is scarcely correct to term Greek a dead language. It hasdegenerated, but has never perished or disappeared. Its harmoniousmodulations are forgotten, and its delicate pronunciation is no longerheard, but Greek is still spoken at Athens. The language, of course,exhibits those features which constitute the principal differencebetween ancient and modern languages; prepositions and particles havesupplanted affixes and inflexions, auxiliary verbs supply the gapscaused by the crumbling away of the old conjugations, and literaltranslations of modern modes of speech give an air of incongruity andbarbarism; but still the language is upon the whole wonderfullypreserved. A well-educated modern Greek would find less difficulty inunderstanding the writings of Xenophon than an Englishman wouldexperience in reading Chaucer, or perhaps Spenser.

Greek has evinced not only vitality, but individuality likewise.Compared with other languages, its stream flowed pure through barbarouslands, and was but little tinged or polluted by the soil through whichit passed. There is nothing of this in Latin, neither the vitality northe power of resistance to change. Strange to say, although partiallyderived from the same source, its properties appear to be totallydifferent. Latin seems to have a strong disposition to change; itreadily became polished, and as readily barbarized; it had no difficultyin enriching itself with new expressions borrowed from the Greek, andconforming itself to Greek rules of taste and grammar. When it came incontact with the languages of other nations, the affinity which it hadfor them was so strong that it speedily amalgamated with them, but itdid not so much influence them as itself receive an impress from them.It did not supersede, but it became absorbed in and was corrupted by,other tongues. Probably, as it was originally made up of many Europeanelements, it recognised a relationship with all other languages, andtherefore readily admitted of fusion together with them into a compositeform. Its existence is confined within the limits of less than eightcenturies. It assumed a form adapted for literary composition less thantwo centuries and a half before the Christian era, and it ceased to be aspoken language in the sixth century.

As long as the Roman empire existed in its integrity, and the capitalcity retained its influence as the patron to whom all literary men mustlook for support, and as the model of refinement and civilization, thelanguage maintained its dominion. Provincial writers endeavoured to ridthemselves of their provincialisms. At Rome they formed their taste andreceived their education. The rule of language was the usage of thecapital; but when the empire was dismembered, and language was thus setfree from its former restrictions, each section of it felt itself atliberty to have an independent language and literature of its own, theclassical standard was neglected, Latin rapidly became barbarized.Again, Latin has interpenetrated or become the nucleus of every languageof civilized Europe; it has shown great facilities of adaptation, but noindividuality or power to supersede; but the relation which it bears tothem is totally unlike that which ancient Greek bears to modern. Thebest Latin scholar would not understand Dante or Tasso, nor would aknowledge of Italian enable one to read Horace and Virgil.

The old Roman language, as it existed previous to coming in contact withGreek influences, has almost entirely perished. It will be shownhereafter that only a few records of it remain; and the language ofthese fragments is very different from that of the classical period. Nordid the old language grow into the new like the Greek of two successiveages by a process of development, but it was remoulded by external andforeign influences. So different was the old Roman from classical Latin,that although the investigations of modern scholars have enabled us todecipher the fragments which remain, and to point out the analogieswhich exist between old and new forms, some of them were with difficultyintelligible to the cleverest and best educated of the Augustan age. Thetreaty which Rome made with Carthage in the first year of the Republicwas engraved on brazen tablets, and preserved in the archives of theCapitol. Polybius had learning enough to translate it into Greek, but hetells us that the language of it was too archaic for the Romans of hisday.[4]

A wide gap separates this old Latin from the Latin of Ennius, whosestyle was formed by Greek taste; another not so wide is interposedbetween the age of Ennius and that of Plautus and Terence, both of whomwrote in the language of their adopted city, but confessedly copiedGreek models; and, lastly, Cicero and the Augustan poets mark anotherage, to which from the preceding one, the only transition with which weare acquainted is the style of oratory of Caius Gracchus, whichtradition informs us was free from ancient rudeness, although it had notacquired the smoothness and polish of Hortensius or Cicero.

In order to arrive at the origin of the Latin language it will benecessary to trace that of the Romans themselves. In the most distantages to which tradition extends, the peninsula of Italy appears to havebeen inhabited by three stocks or tribes of the great Indo-Germanicfamily. One of these is commonly known by the name of Oscans; anotherconsisted of two branches, the Sabellians, or Sabines, and the Umbrians;the third were called Sikeli, sometimes Vituli and Itali. Whataffinities there were between these and the other Indo-European tribesout of Italy, or by what route they came from the original cradle of thehuman race is wrapped in obscurity. Donaldson considers that all theso-called aboriginal inhabitants of Italy were of the same race as theLithuanians or old Prussians. The Oscans evidently, from the name whichtradition assigns to them, claimed to be the aboriginal inhabitants. Thename Osci, or Opici, which is a longer form of it, is etymologicallyconnected with Ops, the goddess Earth, and consequently their nationalappellation is equivalent to the Greek terms αυτοχθονες, or γηγενεις,the “children of the soil.” That the Sabellians and Umbrians arebranches of the same stock is proved by the similarity which has beendiscovered to exist between the languages spoken by them. The Umbriansalso claimed great antiquity, for the Greeks are said to have given themtheir name from ομβρος, rain; implying that they were an antediluvianrace, and had survived the storms of rain which deluged the world. Plinylikewise considers them the most ancient race in Italy.[5]

The original settlements of the Umbrians extended over the districtbounded on one side by the Tiber, on the other by the Po. All thecountry to the south was in the possession of the Oscans, with theexception of Latium, which was inhabited by the Sikeli. But in processof time, the Oscans, pressed upon by the Sabellians, invaded the abodesof this peaceful and rural people, some of whom submitted andamalgamated with their conquerors, the rest were driven across thenarrow sea into Sicily, and gave the name to that island.[6] Thesenative tribes were not left in undisturbed possession of their richinheritance. There arrived in the north of Italy that enterprising race,famed alike for their warlike spirit and their skill in the arts ofpeace, the Pelasgians (or dark Asiatics,) and became the civilizers ofItaly. Historical research has failed to discover what settlements thiswonderful race inhabited immediately previous to their occupation ofEtruria. According to Livy’s account[7] they must have arrived in Italyby sea, for he asserts that their first settlements were south of theApennines, that thence they spread northwards, and that the Rhæti were aportion of them, and spoke their language in a barbarous and corruptform. His testimony ought to have some weight, because, as a native ofthe neighbourhood, he probably knew the Rhætian language. Theirimmigration must have taken place more than one thousand years beforeChrist,[8] and yet they were far advanced in the arts of civilizationand refinement, and the science of politics and social life. Theyenriched their newly-acquired country with commerce, and filled it withstrongly-fortified and populous cities; their dominion rapidly spreadover the whole of Italy from sea to sea, from the Alps to Vesuvius andSalerno, and even penetrated into the islands of Elba and Corsica.[9]Herodotus[10] asserts that they migrated from Lydia; and this traditionwas adopted by the Romans and by themselves.[11] Dionysius[12] rejectsthis theory on the grounds that there is no similarity between theLydian and Etruscan language, religion, or institutions, and thatXanthus, a native Lydian historian, makes no mention of this migration.Doubtless the language is unique, nor can a connexion be traced betweenit and any family; but their alphabet is Phœnician, their theology andpolity oriental, their national dress and national symbol, the eagle,was Lydian, and a remarkable custom alluded to both by Herodotus[13] andPlautus[14] was Lydian likewise.

Entering the territory of the Umbrians, they drove them before them intothe rugged and mountainous districts, and themselves occupied the richand fertile plains. The head-quarters of the invaders was Etruria; theconquered Umbrians lived amongst them as a subject people, like thePeloponnesians under their Dorian conquerors, or the Saxons under theNorman nobility. This portion of the Pelasgians called themselvesRasena, the Greeks spoke of them as Tyrseni, a name evidently connectedwith the Greek τυρρις or τυρσις (Latin, Turris,) and which remarkablyconfirms the assertion of Herodotus, since the only Pelasgians who werefamed for architecture or tower-building, were those who claimed aLydian extraction, namely, the Argives and Etruscans.[15] This theory ofthe Pelasgian origin of the Etruscans is due to Lepsius,[16] and hasbeen adopted by Donaldson;[17] and if it be correct, the language ofEtruria was probably Pelasgian amalgamated with, and to a certain extentcorrupted by, the native Umbrian.

Pelasgian supremacy on the left bank of the Tiber found no one todispute it. Let us now turn our attention to the influence of theseinvaders in lower Italy. As they marched southwards, they vanquished theOscans and occupied the plains of Latium. They did not, however, remainlong at peace in the districts which they had conquered. The oldinhabitants returned from the neighbouring highlands to which they hadbeen driven, and subjugated the northern part of Latium.

The history of the occupation of Etruria, which has been alreadyrelated, was here acted over again, with only the following alteration,that here the Oscan was the dominant tribe, and the subject peopleamongst whom they took up their abode were Pelasgians and Sikeli, bywhom the rest of the low country of Latium were still occupied. Thetowns of the north formed a federal union, of which Alba was thecapital, whilst of the southern or Pelasgian confederacy the chief citywas Lavinium, or Latinium. The conquering Oscans were a nation ofwarriors and hunters, and consequently, as Niebuhr remarked, in thelanguage of this district the terms belonging to war and hunting areOscan, whilst those which relate to peace and the occupations of rurallife are Pelasgian. As, therefore, the language of Etruria wasPelasgian, corrupted by Umbrian, so Pelasgian + Oscan is the formulawhich presents the language of Latium.

But the Roman or Latin language is still more composite in its nature,and consists of more than these two elements. This phenomenon is also tobe accounted for by the origin of the Roman people. The septi-montiumupon which old Rome was built was occupied by different Italian tribes.A Latin tribe belonging, if we may trust the mythical tradition, to theAlban confederacy, had their settlement upon the Mount Palatine, and aSabine or Sabellian community occupied the neighbouring heights of theQuirinal and Capitoline. Mutual jealousy of race kept them for some timeseparate from each other; but at length the privilege of intermarriagewas conceded, and the two communities became one people.

The Tyrrhene Pelasgians, however, separated only by a small river fromthis new state, rapidly rising to power and prosperity, were not likelyto view its existence without distrust and jealousy. Accordingly, theearly Roman historical traditions evidently point to a period duringwhich Rome was subject to Etruscan rule. When the Etruscan dynastypassed away, its influence in many respects still remained. The religionand mythology of Etruria left an indelible stamp on the rites andceremonies of the Roman people. The Etruscan deities were the naturalgods of Rome before the influence of Greek poetry introduced themythology of Homer and Hesiod into her Pantheon. The characters andattributes of these deities were totally different from those of Greece.No licentious orgies disgraced their worship; they were defiled by noneof their vices.[18] Saturn, Janus, Sylvanus, Faunus, and other Etruscandeities, were grave, venerable, pure, and delighted in the simpleoccupations of rural life. It was only general features of resemblancewhich enabled the poets in later ages to identify Saturn with Kronos,Sylvanus with Pan, the prophetic Camenæ of the Janiculum with the musesof Parnassus.[19] The point, however, most important for the presentconsideration is that their language was likewise permanently affected.

The ethnical affinities which have been here briefly stated, and whichmay be considered as satisfactorily established by the investigations ofNiebuhr, Müller, Lepsius, Donaldson, and others, are a guide to theaffinities of the Latin language, and point out the elements of which itis composed. These elements, then, are Umbrian, Oscan, Etruscan, Sabine,and Pelasgian; but, as has been stated, the Etruscan language was acompound of Oscan and Pelasgian, and the Sabine was the link between theUmbrian and Oscan, therefore the elements of the Latin are reduced tothree, namely, Umbrian, Oscan and Pelasgian. These may again beclassified under two heads, the one which has, the other which has not,a resemblance to the Greek. All Latin words which resemble Greek arePelasgian,[20] all which do not are Oscan and Umbrian. From the first ofthese classes must of course be excepted those words—such, for example,as Triclinium, &c.,—which are directly derived from the Greek, theorigin of which dates partly from the time when Rome began to haveintercourse with the Greek colonies of Magna Græcia, partly since Greekexercised an influence on Roman literature. It is clear from thetestimony of Horace that the enriching of the language by the adoptionof such foreign words was defended and encouraged by the literary men ofthe Augustan age:—

 —— Si forte necesse est Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis Continget; dabiturque licentia sumta pudenter, Et nova fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si Græco fonte cadant, parce detorta. _Hor. Ep. ad Pis. 48._

 CHAPTER II.THE EUGUBINE TABLES—EXISTENCE OF OSCAN IN ITALY—BANTINE TABLE—PERUGIAN

INSCRIPTION—ETRUSCAN ALPHABET AND WORDS—CHANT OF FRATRES ARVALES—SALIAN

HYMN—OTHER MONUMENTS OF OLD LATIN—LATIN AND GREEK ALPHABETS COMPARED.

 THE UMBRIAN LANGUAGE.

In the neighbourhood of Ugubio,[21] at the foot of the Apennines (theancient Iguvium,) were discovered, in A. D. 1444, seven tables, commonlycalled the Eugubine Tables. They were in good preservation, andcontained prayers and rules for religious ceremonies. Some of them wereengraved in the Etruscan or Umbrian characters, others in Latin letters.Lepsius[22] has determined, from philological considerations, that thedate of them must be as early as from A. U. C. 400,[23] and that theletters were engraved about two centuries later. A comparison of the twoshows, in the Umbrian character, the letter _s_ standing in the placeoccupied by _r_ in the Latin, and _k_ in the place of _g_, because theEtruscan alphabet, with which the Umbrian is the same, did not containthe medial letters _B_, _G_, _D_. An analogous substitute is seen in thetransition from the old to the more modern Latin. The names Furius andCaius, for example, were originally written Fusius and Gaius. _H_ isalso introduced between two vowels, as stahito for stato, in the sameway that in Latin aheneus is derived from _aes_. It also appears thatthe termination of the masculine singular was _o_: thus, orto = ortus;whilst that of the plural was or; _e. g._, subator = subacti; screhitor= scripti. This mode of inflexion illustrates the form amaminor foramamini, which was itself a participle used for amamini estis, an idiomanalogous to the Greek τετυμμενοι εισι.

The following extract, with the translation by Donaldson,[24] togetherwith a few words which present the greatest resemblance to the Latin,will suffice to give a general notion of the relation which the Umbrianbears to it:—

Teio subokau suboko, Dei Grabovi, okriper Fisiu, totaper Jiovina, erernomne-per, erar, nomne-per; fos sei, paker sei, okre Fisei, ToteJiovine, erer nomne, erar nomne: Tab. VI. (_Lepsius._) Te invocaviinvoco, Jupiter Grabovi, pro monte Fisio, pro urbe Iguvina, pro illiusnomine, pro hujus nomine, bonus sis, propitius sis, monti Fisio, urbiIguvinæ, illius nomine, hujus nomine.

 Alfu albus white Asa ara altar Aveis aves birds Buf boves oxen Ferine farina meal Nep nec nor Nome nomen name Parfa parra owl Peica picus pie Periklum preculum prayer (dim.) Poplus populus people Puni panis bread Rehte recte rightly Skrehto scriptus written Suboko sub-voco invoke Subra supra above Taflle tabula table Tuplu duplus double Tripler triplus triple Tota (analogous to) totus a city (a whole or collection) Vas fas law Vinu vinum wine Uve ovis sheep Vitlu vitulus calf.[25]

 THE OSCAN LANGUAGE.

The remains which have come down to us of this language belong, in fact,to a composite idiom made up of the Sabine and Oscan. Although itsliterature has entirely perished, inscriptions fortunately stillsurvive; but as they must have been engraved long subsequently to thesettlement of the Sabellians in Southern Italy, the language in whichthey are written must necessarily be compounded of those spoken both bythe conquerors and the conquered. Although Livy[26] makes mention of anOscan dramatic literature, for he tells us that the “Fabulæ Atellanæ” ofthe Oscans were introduced when a pestilence raged at Rome,[27] togetherwith other theatrical entertainments, he only speaks of the Oscanlanguage in one passage.[28] This, however, is an important one, becauseit proves that Oscan was the vernacular tongue of the Samnites at thatperiod. He relates that Volumnius sent spies into the Samnite camp whounderstood Oscan: “Gnaros Oscæ linguæ exploratum quid agatur mittit.”

It is clear that the reason why the Oscan language prevailed amongstthis people is, that the dominant orders in Samnium were Sabines. Butthere is evidence of the existence of Oscan in Italy at a still laterperiod. Niebuhr[29] asserts that in the Social War[30] the Marsi spokeOscan, although in writing they used the Latin characters. Some denariistill exist struck by the confederate Italian Government established inthat war at Corfinium, on which the word _Italia_ is inscribed, whilstothers bear the word Viteliu. The latter is the old Oscan orthography,the former the Latin. One class of these coins, therefore, was struckfor the use of the Sabine, the other of the Marsian allies. It is saidalso that Oscan was spoken even after the establishment of the empire.

The principal monument of the Sabello-Oscan is a brass plate which wasdiscovered A. D. 1793. As the word _Bansæ_ occurs in the 23d line of theinscription, it has been supposed to refer to the town of Bantia, whichwas situated not far from the spot where the tablet was found, and it istherefore called the Bantine Table. In consequence of the perfect stateof the central portion, much of this inscription has been interpretedwith tolerable certainty and correctness. The affinity may be tracedbetween most of the words and their corresponding Latin; and it isperfectly clear that the variations from the Latin follow certaindefinite rules, and that the grammatical inflexions were the same as inthe oldest Latin. A copy of the Table may be found in the collection ofOrellius, and also in Donaldson’s “Varronianus.”[31] The following are afew specimens of words in which a resemblance to the Latin will bereadily recognised, and also, in some instances, the relation of theOscan to the other ancient languages of Italy:—

 Licitud Liceto Multam Mulctam, Maimas Maximas, Carneis Carnes Senateis Senatus Pis quis Hipid habeat Pruhipid præhibeat Pruhipust præhibuent Censtur censor Censazet censapit Censaum, &c. censum, &c. Comonei Communis Perum dolum mallom siom Per dolum malum suum Iok—Ionc hoc—hunc Pod quod Valæmon Valetudinem Fust fuerit Poizad penset (Anglicè, poize.) Fuid fuit Tarpinius Tarquinius Ampus Ancus

To these other well-known words may be added, which all philologersallow to be originally Oscan, but which have been incorporated with theLatin—such as, for example, Brutus, Cascus, Catus, Fœdus, Idus, Porcus,Trabea; and names of deities, such as Fides, Terminus, Vertumnus, Fors,Flora, Lares, Mamers, Quirinus, &c.

 THE ETRUSCAN LANGUAGE.

The difficulty and obscurity in which the Etruscan language is involvedare owing to the nature of the inscriptions and monuments which havebeen discovered. Those records, to which reference has already been madewhen speaking of the Umbrian and Sabello-Oscan, were of a ceremonial orlegal character; they therefore contained connected phrases andsentences, varied modes of thought and expression. Monuments such as theEugubine or Bantine Tables contribute not a little towards a vocabularyof the languages, and still more to a knowledge of their structure andanalogies. This, however, is not the case with the Etruscan monuments ofantiquity which have been hitherto discovered. They are, indeed,numerous, but they exhibit little variety. They are sepulchral recordsof a complimentary kind, or titles inscribed on statues and votiveofferings. Hence the same brief phraseology continually recurs, and theprincipal portions of the inscriptions are occupied by proper names.

The most important, because the largest, Etruscan record which has beenhitherto discovered, is one which was found near Perugia, A. D.1822.[32] This inscription contains one hundred and thirty-one words andabbreviations of words, and of these no fewer than thirty-eight areproper names. Of the rest, a vast number are either frequently repeated,or are etymologically connected. These have not proved sufficient toenable any philologist (although many have attempted it) to give asatisfactory and trustworthy explanation of its contents.

A comparison of the Perugian with the Eugubine inscription shows theexistence of similarity between some of the words found in both of them;and this is exactly what we should _à priori_ expect to result from thetheory of the Etruscan being a compound of the Pelasgian and Umbrian. Inthe Perugian inscription, words which resemble the Umbrian forms aremore numerous than those which seem to have an affinity for thePelasgian. Indeed, the language in which it is written appears almostentirely to have lost the Pelasgian element. The same observation may bemade with respect to the Cortonian inscription:[33]—

 Arses verses Sethlanl tephral ape termnu pisest estu; _i. e._ Avertas ignem Vulcane victimarum carne post terminum piatus esto; Avertas ignem Vulcane in cinerem redigens qui apud terminum piatus esto.

Probably, therefore, both these belong to a period at which the oldUmbrian of the conquered tribes had been exercising a long-continuedinfluence in corrupting the pure Pelasgian of the conquerors.

One example of the Etruscan alphabet is extant. It was discovered in atomb at Bomarzo, by Mr. Dennis,[34] inscribed round the foot of a cup,and probably had been a present for a child. The letters ran from leftto right, and are as follows:—

[Illustration: ph ch th u t s r s p n m l i th h z v e c a]

It will be seen from this specimen that the Etruscan language wasdeficient in the letters Β Γ Δ Ξ Ψ Η Ο Ω.

The following is a catalogue of those Etruscan words which have beenhanded down to us, together with their Latin interpretation. The list isbut a meager one, but valuable as containing some which have beenadmitted into the Latin, and as exhibiting many affinities to thePelasgian:—

Æsar DeusAgalletor PuerAndar BoreasAnhelos AuroraAntar AquilaAracos AccipiterArimos SimiaArse Verse Averte ignemAtaison VitisBurros PoculumBalteus }Capra } The same as in the Latin.Cassis }Celer }Capys FalcoDamnus EquusDrouna PrincipiumFalandum CœlumGapos CurrusHister LudioIduare DividereIdulus OvisItus IdusLæna VestimentumLanista CarnifexLar DominusLucumo PrincepsMantisa AdditamentumNanos VagabundusNepos LuxuriosusRasena EtrusciSubulo TibicenSlan FiliusSec FiliaRil avil Vixit annosToga Toga

The discoveries of General Galassi and Mr. Dennis at the Etruscan cityof Cervetri have shown to what an extent the Pelasgian element prevailedin the old Etruscan. Cervetri was the old Cære or Agylla, which wasfounded by Pelasgians, maintained a religious connexion with the Greeksas a kindred race,[36] and remained Pelasgian to a late period.[37] Inthe royal tomb discovered in this place the name of Tarquin—

[Illustration: Tarquin]

occurs no less than thirty-five times.[38] On a little cruet-shapedvase, like an ink-bottle, was found inscribed the syllables Bi, Ba, Bu,&c., as in a horn-book, and also an alphabet in the Pelasgiancharacter.[39] These characters are almost identical with the Etruscan.Again, General Galassi found here a small black pot, with letterslegibly scratched, and filled with red paint.[40] Lepsius pronouncedthem to be Pelasgian, divided them into words, and arranged them in thefollowing lines, which are evidently hexametrical:—

 Mi ni kethu ma mi mathu maram lisiai thipurenai Ethe erai sic epana mi nethu nastav helephu.

Mr. Donaldson[41] has offered some suggestions, with a view toexplaining this inscription, and has clearly shown many close affinitiesto the Greek; but there is another which he quotes, and which ispronounced by Müller[42] to be pure Pelasgian, which even in itsPelasgian form is almost Greek:—

 Mi kalairu fuius. ἐιμι Καλαιροῦ Ϝυιός.

It would be impossible in this work to attempt the analysis of all theknown Etruscan words, and to point out their affinities to thePelasgian, the Greek, or the Latin; but a few examples may be given,whilst the reader, who wishes to pursue the subject further, is referredto the investigations of the learned author of the “Varronianus.”

Aifil, age, is evidently from the same root as the Greek αἰων, thedigamma, which is the characteristic of the Pelasgian, as it was of thederivative dialect, the Æolic, being inserted between the vowels. Aruns,an agriculturist, contains the root of ἀρόω, to plough. Capys, a falcon,that of capio, to catch. Cassis (originally capsis,) that of caput, thehead. Lituus, a curved staff, that of obliquus. Toga, that of tego, thedress, which was originally as much the Etruscan costume as itsubsequently became characteristic of the Roman. Lastly, it is wellknown that, whereas the Greeks denoted numbers by the letters of thealphabet, the Romans had a system of numeral signs. This was a greatimprovement. The Greek system of notation was clumsy, because in realityit only pointed out the order in which each number stands. The Romannotation, on the other hand, represented arithmetical quantity, and eventhe addition and subtraction of quantities; and this elegant contrivancethe Romans owed to the Etruscans. Their numerals were as follows:—

[Illustration]

This system is identical with the Roman, for Ʌ inverted became Ⅴ, and[50 symbol], [100 symbol], [500 symbol], and [1000 symbol] becamerespectively Ⅼ, Ⅽ, Ⅾ, and ⅭⅠↃ, for which Ⅿ was substituted in latertimes.

From the few examples which have been here given, it is evident that thePelasgian element of the Etruscan was most influential in the formationof the Latin language, as the Pelasgian art and science of thatwonderful people contributed to the advancement and improvement of theRoman character.

 THE OLD LATIN LANGUAGE.

The above observations, and the materials out of which the old Latin wascomposed, have prepared the way for some illustrations of its structureand character. The monuments from which all our information is derivedare few in number: the conflagration of Rome destroyed the majority; thecommon accidents of a long series of years completed the mischief.Almost the only records which remain are laws, ceremonials, epitaphs,and honorary inscriptions.

An example of the oldest Latin extant is contained in the sacred chantof the Fratres Arvales. The inscription which embodied this Litany wasdiscovered A. D. 1778,[43] whilst digging out the foundations of thesacristy of St. Peter’s at Rome. The monument belongs to the reign ofHeliogabalus;[44] but although the date is so recent, the permanence ofreligious formulæ renders it probable that the inscription contains theexact words sung by this priesthood in the earliest times.

The Fratres Arvales were a college of priests, founded, according to thetradition, by Romulus himself. The symbolical ensign of their office wasa chaplet of ears of corn (spicea corona,) and their function was tooffer prayers in solemn dances and processions at the opening of springfor plenteous harvests. Their song was chanted in the temple with closeddoors, accompanied by that peculiar dance which was termed thetripudium, from its containing three beats. To this rhythm the Saturnianmeasure of the hymn corresponds; and for this reason each verse wasthrice repeated. The hymn contains sixteen letters: _s_ is sometimes putfor _r_, _ei_ for _i_, and _p_ for _f_ or _ph_. The following is atranscription of it, as given by Orellius, to which an interpretation issubjoined:—

 Enos Lases juvate.

 Nos Lares juvate.

 Us O Lares help.

 Neve luaerve Marmer sins incurrere in pleoris.

 Neve luem Mars sinas incurrere plus.

 Nor the pestilence O Mars permit to invade more.

 Satur fufere Mars limen Salista berber.

 Satiatus furendo Mars lumen Solis sta fervere.

 Satiated with fury, O Mars, the light of the sun stop from burning.

 Semunis alternei advocapit conctos.

 Semihemones alterni ad vos capite cunctos.

 Us half-men in your turns to you take all.

 Enos Marmer juvato.

 Nos Mars juvato.

 Us Mars help.

 Triumpe, triumpe, triumpe, triumpe, triumpe.

 Triumph, &c.

Of the Salian hymn (Carmen Saliare,) another monument of ancient Latin,the following fragments, preserved by Varro,[45] are all that remain,with the exception of a few isolated words:—

 (1.) Cozeulodoizesa, omina vero ad patula coemisse Jam cusiones; duonus ceruses dunzianus vevet.[45]

This has been corrected, arranged in the Saturnian metre, and translatedinto Latin by Donaldson,[46] as follows:—

 Choroi-aulōdos eso, omina enim vero Ad patula’ ose misse Jani cariones. Duonus Cerus esit dunque Janus vevet.

 Choroio-aulodus ero, omina enim vero ad patulas aures Miserunt Jani curiones. Bonus Cerus erit donec Janus vivet.

 I will be a flute-player in the chorus, for the priests of Janus have sent omens to open ears. Cerus (the Creator) will be propitious so long as Janus shall live.

 (2.) Divum empta cante, divum deo supplicante.

 _i. e._ Deorum impetu canite, deorum deo suppliciter canite.

 Sing by the inspiration of the gods, sing as suppliants to the god of gods.

The _Leges Regiæ_ are generally considered as furnishing the nextexamples, in point of antiquity, of the old Latin language; but therecan be little doubt that, although they were assumed by the metricaltraditions to belong to the period of the kings,[47] they belong to alater historical period than the laws of the Twelve Tables. Somefragments of laws, attributed to Numa and Servius Tullius, are preservedby Festus[48] in a restored and corrected form, and, therefore, it is tobe feared that they have been modernized in accordance with theorthographical rules of a later age.

One of these laws is quoted by Livy[49] as put in force in the trial ofthe surviving Horatius for the murder of his sister when he returned, asthe tradition relates, from his victory over the Curatii. Another isalluded to by Pliny,[50] which forbids the sacrificing all fish whichhave not scales; but they are given in modern Latin, and can only berestored to their old form by conjecture.

We may, therefore, proceed at once to a consideration of the Latin ofthe Twelve Tables, of which fragments have been preserved by Cicero,Aulus Gellius, Festus, Gaius, Ulpian, and others. These fragments are tobe found collected together in Haubold’s “Institutionum Juris Romaniprivati lineamenta” and Donaldson’s “Varronianus.”[51] The laws of theTwelve Tables were engraven on tablets of brass, and publicly set up inthe Comitium, and were first made public in B. C. 449.[52] Nor had theRomans any other digested code of laws until the time of Justinian.[53]The following are a few examples of the words and phrases contained inthem:—

 Ni nec Em eum Endo jacito injicito Ævitas ætas Fuat sit Sonticus nocens Hostis Hospes Diffensus esto differatur Se sine Venom-dint venum det Estod esto Escit est Legassit, &c. legaverit.

The next example of the old Latin is contained in the Tiburtineinscription, which was discovered in the sixteenth century at Tivoli,the ancient Tibur. It came into the possession of the Barberini family;but it was afterwards lost, and has never been recovered. Niebuhr[54]considers (and his conjecture is probably correct) that this monument isa Senatus-consultum, belonging to the period of the second Samnitewar.[55] The inscription is given at length in the collection ofGruter,[56] and also by Niebuhr[57] and Donaldson.[58] The Latin inwhich it is written may be considered almost classical, the variationsfrom that of a later age being principally orthographical. For example:—

 Tiburtes is written Teiburtes Castoris is written Kastorus Advertit is written advortit Dixistis is written deixsistis Publicæ is written poplicæ Utile is written oitile Inducimus is written indoucimus A or ab before v is written af.

This document is followed very closely, in point of time, by thewell-known inscription on the sarcophagus of L. Cornelius Scipio[59]Barbatus, and the epitaph on his son,[60] which are both written in theold Saturnian metre. Scipio Barbatus was the great-grandfather of theconqueror of Hannibal, and was consul in A. U. C. 456, the first year ofthe third Samnite war. His sarcophagus was found A. D. 1780 in a tombnear the Appian Way, whence it was removed to the Vatican. The epitaphis as follows:—

 Cornelius Lucius Scipio Barbatus Gnaivod Patre prognatus fortis vir sapiensque Quoius forma virtutei parisuma fuit Consol Censor Aidilis quei fuit apud vos Taurasia Cisauna Samnio cepit Subigit omne Loucana opsidesque abdoucit.

“Cornelius L. Scipio Barbatus, son of Cnæus, a brave and wise man, whosebeauty was equal to his virtue. He was amongst you Consul, Censor,Ædile. He took Taurasia, Cisauna, and Samnium; he subjugated allLucania, and led away hostages.”

His son was Consul A. U. C. 495.[61] The following inscription is on aslab which was found near the Porta Capona. The title is painted red(rubricatus:)—

 L. Cornelio L. F. Scipio, Aidiles, Consol, Censor. Honc oino ploirume cosentiunt R. Duonoro optimo fuise viro Luciom Scipionem. Filios Barbati Consol Censor Aidiles hic fuet Hic cepit Corsica Aleria que urbe Dedet tempestatebus aide mereto.

“Romans for the most part agree, that this one man, Lucius Scipio, wasthe best of good men. He was the son of Barbatus, Consul, Censor, Ædile.He took Corsica and the city Aleria. He dedicated a temple to the Stormsas a just return.”

It is not a little remarkable that the style of this epitaph is morearchaic than that of the preceding.

The consul of the year B. C. 260 was C. Duilius, who in that year gainedhis celebrated naval victory over the Carthaginians; the inscription,therefore, engraved on the pedestal of the Columna Rostrata, which waserected in commemoration of that event, may be considered as acontemporary monument of the language.[62] Some alterations wereprobably made in its orthography at a period subsequent to its erection,for it was rent asunder from top to bottom by lightning A. U. C.580,[63] and is supposed not to have been repaired until the reign ofAugustus, for the restoration of a temple built by Duilius was begun bythat emperor and completed by Tiberius.[64] The principal peculiaritiesto be observed in this inscription are, that the ablatives singular endin _d_, as in the words Siceliad, obsidioned; _c_ is put for _g_, as in_macistratos_, _leciones_; _e_ for _i_, as in _navebos_, _ornavet_; _o_for _u_, as in _Duilios_, _aurom_; _classes_, _nummi_, &c., are speltclases, numei, and _quinqueremos_, _triremos_, _quinresmos_, _triesmos_.This monument was discovered A. D. 1565, in a very imperfect state, butits numerous _lacunæ_ were supplied by Grotefend.

About sixty years after the date of this epitaph,[65] theSenatus-consultum, respecting the Bacchanals, was passed.[66] Thismonument was discovered A. D. 1692, in the Calabrian village of Terra diFeriolo, and is now preserved in the Imperial Museum of Vienna.[67]

There is scarcely any difference between the Latinity of thisinscription and that of the classical period except in the orthographyand some of the grammatical inflexions. The expressions are inaccordance with the usage of good authors, and the construction is notwithout elegance. Nor is this to be wondered at when it is rememberedthat, at the period when this decree was published, Rome alreadypossessed a written literature. Ennius was now known as a poet and anhistorian, and many of the comedies of Plautus had been acted on thepublic stage.

Having thus enumerated the existing monuments of the old Roman languageand its constituent elements, it remains to compare the Latin and Greekalphabets, for the purpose of exhibiting the variations which the Latinletters have severally undergone.

The letters then may be arranged according to the followingclassification:—

 { Soft P C K or Q, T. { Mutes { Medial B G D. Consonants { { Aspirates F (V) H — { Liquids L, M, N, R. { Sibilants S, X. Vowels A, E, I, O, U.

Owing to the relation which subsists between P, B, and F or V, as thesoft medial and aspirated pronunciation of the same letters, P and B, aswell as F and V, in Latin, are the representatives or equivalents of theGreek F sound (φ and Ϝ,) and V also sometimes stands in the place of β.For example (1,) the Latin _fama_, _fero_, _fugio_, _vir_, &c.,correspond to the Greek φημή, φέρω, φεύγω (Ϝ)Ἄρης. (2.) _Nebula_,_caput_, _albus_, _ambo_, to νεφέλη, κεφαλή, ἀλφός, ἄμφω. Similarly,_duonus_ and _duellum_ become _bonus_ and _bellum_; the transition beingfrom _du_ to a sound like the English _w_, thence to _v_, and lastly to_b_. The old Latin _c_ was used as the representative of itscorresponding medial G, as well as K; for example, magistratus,legiones, Carthaginienses were written on the Columna Rostrata,_leciones_, _macistratus_, _Cartacinienses_. The representative of theGreek κ was c; thus caput stands for κεφαλή: the sound _qu_ also, asmight be expected, from its answering to the Greek koppa (Q,) and theHebrew koph (‏ק‎,) had undoubtedly in the old Latin the same sound as Cor K, and, therefore, quatio becomes, in composition, cutio; and quojus,quoi, quolonia, become, in classical Latin, _cujus_, _cui_, _colonia_.This pronunciation has descended to the modern French language, althoughit has become lost in the Italian. A passage from the “Aulularia”[68] ofPlautus illustrates this assertion, and Quintilian[69] also bearstestimony to the existence of the same pronunciation in the time ofCicero.

The aspirate H is in Latin the representative of the Greek Χ, as, forexample, _hiems_, _hortus_, and _humi_ correspond to χείμων, χόρτος,χάμαι, whilst the third Greek aspirated mute Θ becomes a tenuis in themouths of the early Latins, as in _Cartaginienses_, and the _h_ soundwas afterwards restored when Greek exercised an influence over thelanguage as well as the literature of Rome.

The absence of the _th_ sound in the old Latin is compensated for in avariety of ways; sometimes by an _f_, as fera, fores, for θήρ and θύρα.

The interchanges which take place between the T and D, and the liquidsL, N, R, can be accounted for on the grammatical principle,[70] which isso constantly exemplified in the literal changes of the Semiticlanguages, that letters articulated by the same organ are frequently putone for the other. Now D, T, L, N are all palatals, and in thepronunciation of R also some use is made of the palate. Hence we find acommutation of _r_ and _n_ in δωρον, _donum_; _æreus_, _æneus_; of _t_and _l_ in θώρηξ and _lorica_; _d_ and _l_ in olfacio and odere facio,Ulysses and Οδυσσεύς; _r_ and _d_ in _auris_ and _audio_, _arfuise_, and_adfuisse_.

To the remaining liquid, _m_, little value seems to have been attachedin Latin. In verse it was elided before a vowel; in verbs it wasuniversally omitted from the first person of the present tense, althoughit was originally its characteristic, and was only retained in _sum_ and_inquam_: it was also omitted in other words, as _omne_ for _omnem_;[71]and Cato the Censor was in the habit of putting _dice_ and _facie_ for_dicam_(or _dicem_) and _faciam_ (_faciem_.)

As the Roman _x_ was nothing more than a double letter compounded of _g_or _c_ and _s_, as _rego_, _regsi_, _rexi_; _dico_, _dicsi_, _dixi_, theonly consonant now remaining for consideration is the sibilant _s_. Theprincipal position which it occupies in Latin is as corresponding to theaspirate in Greek words derived from the same Pelasgic roots. Thus ὓς,ἓξ, ὓλη, &c., are represented by _sus_, _sex_, _silva_. This maypossibly be accounted for by the fact that S is in reality a verypowerful aspirate. It is only necessary to try the experiment, in orderto prove that a strong expiration produces a hissing sound. Those wordswhich in classical Greek are written without an aspirate, such as εἰ,ἄναξ, &c., which, nevertheless, have an _s_ in Latin, as si, senex, &c.,may possibly have been at one period pronounced with the strongerbreathing. The most remarkable change, however, which has taken placewith respect to this letter, in the transition from the old to theclassical Latin, is the substitution of _r_ for _s_. Thus _Fusius_,_Papisius_, _eso_, _arbos_, &c., become _Furius_, _Papirius_, _ero_,_arbor_, &c.

The following table exhibits the principal changes undergone by thevowels and diphthongs:—

 _In modern Latin._ _In ancient Latin._E was represented by i, sometimes u, as luci, condumnari,I was represented by u, ei, e, o optume, nominus, preivatus, dedit, senatuos.U was represented by oi, ou, o quoius, ploirume, douco, honc.Æ was represented by ai Aidiles.Œ was represented by oi proilium. The vowels were sometimes doubled, as leegi, luuci, haace.[72]

In the grammatical inflexions, the principal difference between the oldand the new Latin is, that in nouns the old forms were longer, andassumed their modern form by a process of contraction, and that theablative ended in _d_, as _Gnaivod_, _sententiad_; consequently theadverbial termination was the same as _suprad_, _bonod_, _malod_. Thesame termination appears in the form of _tod_ in the singular number ofthe imperative mood.

 CHAPTER III.SATURNIAN METRE—OPINIONS RESPECTING ITS ORIGIN—EARLY EXAMPLES OF THIS METRE—SATURNIAN BALLADS IN LIVY—STRUCTURE OF THE VERSE—INSTANCES OF RHYTHMICAL POETRY.

The origin and progress of the Roman language have now been brieflytraced, by the help of existing monuments, from the earliest dawn of itsexistence, when the fusion of its discordant elements was so incompleteas to be scarcely intelligible, to the period when even in the unadornedform of public records it began to assume a classical shape. But such ananalysis will not be complete without some account of the verse in whichthe earliest national poetry was composed.

The oldest measure used by the Latin poets was the Saturnian. Accordingto Hermann,[73] there is no doubt that it was derived from theEtruscans, and that long before the fountains of Greek literature wereopened; the strains of the Italian bards flowed in this metre, untilEnnius introduced the heroic hexameter. The grammarian Diomedes[74]attributed the invention of it to Nævius, and seems to imply that theRoman poet derived the idea from the Greeks, for his theory is, that heformed the verse by adding a syllable to the Iambic trimeter.Terentianus Maurus, as well as Atilius, professed to find verses of thiskind in the tragedies of Euripides and the odes of Callimachus, andServius and Censorinus attempted to analyze the Saturnian according tothe strict rules of Greek prosody; but they were obliged to permit everyconceivable license, and to make Roman rudeness an excuse for aviolation of those rules which they themselves had arbitrarily imposed.The opinion of Bentley was, that it was a Greek metre introduced intoItaly by Nævius.[75] The only argument in favour of the latter theory isthe fact that the Saturnian is found amongst the verses of Archilochus;but many circumstances, which shall hereafter be pointed out, combine tomake it far more probable that the use of it by the Greek poet is anaccidental coincidence, than that the old Roman bards copied it fromhim.

Whatever be its history, there can be no doubt that, if it did notoriginate in Italy, its rhythm in very early times recommended itself tothe Italian ear, and became the recognised vehicle of their nationalpoetry. A rude resemblance of it is discernible in the Eugubine tables;it had obtained a more advanced degree of perfection in the Arvalianchants, and the _axamenta_[76] or Salian hymns. Examples of it are foundin fragments of Roman laws, which Livy[77] refers to the reign of TullusHostilius, and Cicero[78] to that of Tarquinius Priscus. The epitaphs ofthe Scipios are in fact Saturnian næniæ. Ennius, whose era wassufficiently early for him to know that Nævius, instead of being theinventor of a new verse, or the introducer of a Greek one, followed theexample of his predecessors, finds fault with the antiquated rudeness ofhis Saturnians.

 Scripsere alii rem Versibus quos olim Fauni Vatesque canebant Quom neque Musarum scopulos quisquam superarat, Nec dicti studiosus erat.

 Some in such verses wrote, As sung the Fauns and Bards in olden times, When none had scaled the Muses’ rocky heights Or studied graceful diction.

Had the Saturnian been introduced from Greece, Ennius would not havedenied to it the inspiration of the Muses, or have doubted that itsbirthplace was on the rocky peaks of Parnassus, nor would his ear,attuned to the varied melody of Greek poetry, have been unconscious ofits simple and natural rhythm, and have entirely rejected it for themore ponderous and grandiloquent hexameter. The truth is, the tastewhich was formed by the study of Greek letters created a prejudiceagainst the old national verse. As it was not Greek, it was pronouncedrough and unmusical, and was exploded as old-fashioned. The well-knownpassage of Horace represents the prevailing feeling, although he saysthat the Saturnian remained long after the introduction of thehexameter, and that, even in his own day, when Virgil had brought theLatin hexameter to the highest degree of perfection, a few traces ofthat old long-lost poetry, which Cicero[79] wished for back again, mightstill be discovered:—

 Græcia capta ferum victorem cepit et artes Intulit agresti Latio. Sic horridus ille Defluxit numerus Saturnius, et grave virus Munditiæ pepulere: sed in longum tamen ævum Manserunt, hodieque manent vestigia ruris. _Ep._ II., ii. 156.

Some passages of Livy bear evident marks of having been originallyportions of Saturnian ballads, although the historian has mutilated themetre by the process of translating them into more modern Latin. Theprophetic warning of C. Marcius[80] has been thus restored by Hermannwith but slight alteration of the words of Livy:

 Amnén, Trojúgena, Cánnam fuge, ne te alienigenæ Cogánt in cámpo Díomedéi manús consérere; Sed nec credes tu mihi, donec complessis sangui Campum, miliaque multa occisa tua tetulerit Is amnis in portum magnum ex terra frugifera. Piscibus avibus ferisque quæ incolunt terras, eis Fuat esca carnis tua; ita Juppiter mihi fatus.

The oracle which tradition recorded as having been brought from Delphirespecting the waters of the Alban lake[81] was evidently embodied in aSaturnian poem, probably the composition of the same Marcius, or one ofhis contemporaries, such as Fabius Pictor, Cincius Alimentus, orAcilius. This lay has also been conjecturally restored by Hermann.

 Romane aquam Albanam lacu cave contineri, Cave in mare immanare suopte flumine siris; Missam manu per agros rigassis, dissipatam Rivis extinxis, tum tu insistito hostium audax Muris memor, quam per tot annos circum obsides Urbem, ex ea tibi his, quæ nunc panduntur fatis, Victoriam datam; bello perfecto donum Amplum ad mea victor templa portato; sacra patria Nec curata instaurato, utique adsolitum, facito.

In later times Livius Andronicus translated the whole Odyssey intoSaturnians, and Nævius wrote in the same metre a poem consisting ofseven books, the subject of which was the first Punic war. Detachedfragments of both these have been preserved by Aulus Gellius, Priscian,Festus, and others, which have been collected together by Hermann.[82]

The structure of the Saturnian is very simple, and its rhythmicalarrangement is found in the poetry of every age and country.Macaulay[83] quotes the following Saturnians from the poem of the Cidand from the Nibelungen-Lied—

 Estás nuevás a mío | Cíd erán venídas A mí lo dían; á ti | dán las órejádas. Man móhte míchel wúnder | vón Sifríde ságen Wa ích den kúnic vínde | dás sol mán mir ságen.

He adds, also, an example of a perfect Saturnian, the following linefrom the well known nursery song—

 The quéen was ín her párlour | eáting breád and hóney.

It was the metre naturally adapted to the national mode of dancing, inwhich each alternate step strongly marked the time,[84] and therhythmical beat was repeated in a series of three bars, which gave tothe dance the appellation of tripudium.

The Saturnian consists of two parts, each containing three feet, whichfall upon the ear with the same effect as Greek trochees. The whole ispreceded by a syllable in thesis technically called an anacrusis. Forexample—

 Sum|más o|pés qui | régum ‖ régi|ás re|frégit ‖

The metre in its original form was perfectly independent of the rules ofGreek prosody; its only essential requisite was the beat or ictus on thealternate syllable or its representative. The only law to regulate thestress was that of the common popular pronunciation. In fact, stressoccupied the place of quantity. Two or three syllables, which, accordingto the rules of prosody would be long by position, might be slurred overor pronounced rapidly in the time of one, as in the following line:—

 Amném Trojúgena Cánnam | fúge ne té alienígenæ.

Thus it is clear that the principles which regulated it were those ofmodern versification, without any of the niceties and delicacies ofGreek quantity.

The anacrusis resembles the introductory note to a musical air, and doesnot interfere with the essential quality of the verse, namely, the threebeats twice repeated, any more than it does in English poems, in whichoctosyllabic lines, having the stress on the even places, areintermingled with verses of seven syllables, as in the following passageof Milton’s L’Allegro:—

 Come and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew.

It is remarkable that in the degenerate periods of Latin literature,there was a return to the same old rhythmical principles which gavebirth to the Saturnian verse: ictus was again substituted for quantity,and the Greek rules of prosody were neglected for a rhythm consisting ofalternate beats, which pervades most modern poetry.

The empire had become so extensive, that the taste of the people,especially of the provincials, was no longer regulated by that of thecapital, and emphasis and accent became, instead of metrical quantity,the general rule of pronunciation. This was the origin of rhythmicalpoetry. Traces of it may be found as early as the satirical verses ofSuetonius on J. Cæsar.

It is the metre of the little jeu d’esprit addressed by the emperorHadrian to Florus—[85]

 Ego nolo Florus esse Ambulare per tabernas Latitare per popinas Culices pati rotundos;

and also of the historian’s repartee—

 Ego nolo Cæsar esse Ambulare per Britannos Scythicas pati pruinas.

The simple grandeur of such strains as—

 Dies iræ, dies illa, Solvet sæclum in favilla, &c.

and other monkish hymns, go far to rescue the old Saturnian from thecharge of ruggedness and rusticity ascribed to it by Horace and others,whose taste was formed by Greek poetry, and whose fastidious ears couldnot brook any harmony but that which had been consecrated to theoutpourings of Greek genius.

From this species of verse, which probably prevailed among the nativesof Provence (the Roman Provincia) the Troubadours derived the metre oftheir ballad poetry, and thence introduced it into the rest of Europe.But whatever phases the external form of ancient poetry underwent, theclassical writers both of Greece and Rome eschewed rhyme. Even to amodern ear the beautiful effect of the ancient metres is entirelydestroyed by it. It was a false taste and a less refined ear which couldaccept it as a compensation for the imperfections of prosody.

Although rhyme was introduced as an embellishment of verses framed onthe principle of ictus, and not of quantity, at a very early period ofChristian Latin literature, it is not quite certain when it came to beadded as a new difficulty to the metres of classical antiquity. It isrecorded by Gray[86] that when the children educated in the monastery ofSt. Gall addressed a Bishop of Constance on his first visitation withexpostulatory orations, the younger ones recited the following doggerelrhymes:—

 Quid tibi fecimus tale ut nobis facias male Appellamus regem quia nostram fecimus legem.

The elder and more advanced students spoke in rhyming hexameters:—

 Non nobis pia spes fuerat cum sis novus hospes Ut vetus in pejus transvertere tute velis jus.

 CHAPTER IV. THREE PERIODS OF ROMAN CLASSICAL LITERATURE—ITS ELEMENTS RUDE—ROMAN RELIGION—ETRUSCAN INFLUENCE—EARLY HISTORICAL MONUMENTS—FESCENNINE VERSES—FABULÆ ATELLANÆ—INTRODUCTION OF STAGE PLAYERS—DERIVATION OF SATIRE.

The era during which Roman classical literature commenced, arrived atperfection, and declined, may be conveniently divided into threeperiods. The first of these embraces its rise and progress, such tracesas are discoverable of oral and traditional compositions, the rudeelements of the drama, the introduction of Greek literature, and thecultivation of the national taste in accordance with this model, theinfancy of eloquence, and the construction and perfection of comedy.

To this period the first five centuries of the republic may beconsidered as introductory; the groundwork and foundation were thenbeing gradually laid on which the superstructure was built up; for,properly speaking, Rome had no literature until the conclusion of thefirst Punic war.[87]

Independently therefore of these 500 years, this period consists of 160years extending from the time when Livius Andronicus flourished[88] tothe first appearance of Cicero in public life.[89]

The second period ends with the death of Augustus.[90] It comprehendsthe age of which Cicero is the representative, as the most accomplishedorator, philosopher, and prose writer of his times, as well as that ofAugustus, which is commonly called the golden age of Latin poetry.

The third and last period of Roman classical literature terminates withthe death of Hadrian.[91] Notwithstanding the numerous excellencieswhich will be seen to distinguish the literature of this period, itsdecline had evidently commenced. It missed the patronage of Augustus andhis refined court, and was chilled by the baneful influence of histyrannical successors. As the age of Augustus has been distinguished bythe epithet “golden,” so the succeeding period has been, on account ofits comparative inferiority, designated as “the silver age.”

The Romans, like all other nations, had oral poetical compositionsbefore they possessed any written literature. Cicero, in threeplaces,[92] speaks of the banquet being enlivened by the songs of bards,in which the exploits of heroes were recited and celebrated. By theselays national pride and family vanity were gratified, and the anecdotesthus preserved by memory furnished the sources of early legendaryhistory.

But these lays and legends must not be compared to those of Greece,which had probably taken an epic form long before they furnished thegroundwork of the Iliad and the Odyssey. In Roman tradition there are notraces of elevated genius or poetical inspiration. The religioussentiment was the fertile source of Greek fancy, which gave asupernatural glory to the effusions of the bard, painted men as heroes,and heroes as deities; and, whilst it was the natural growth of theGreek intellect, twined itself round the affections of the whole people.

Roman religion was a ceremonial for the priests, not for the people; andits poetry was merely formulæ in verse, and soared no higher than thesemi-barbarous ejaculations of the Salian priests or the Arvalianbrotherhood. Fabulous legends doubtless formed the groundwork ofhistory, and therefore probably constituted the festive entertainmentsto which Cicero alludes; but they were rude and simple, and thenarratives founded upon them, which are embodied in the pages of Livyand others, are as much improved by the embellishments of the historian,as these in their turn have been expanded by the poetic talent ofMacaulay.

It is scarcely possible to conceive that the uncouth literature whichwas contemporary with such rude relics as have come down to modern timesshould have displayed a higher degree of imaginative power. A few simpledescriptive lines, one or two animating and heart-stirring sentiments,and no more, would be tolerated as an interruption to the grosserpleasures of the table amongst a rude and boisterous people. The Romanswere men of actions, not of words; their intellect, though vigorous, wasessentially of a practical character: it was such as to form warriors,statesmen, jurists, orators, but not poets; in the highest sense of theword, _i. e._ if by poetic talent is meant the creative faculty of theimagination. The Roman mind possessed the germs of those faculties whichadmit of cultivation and improvement, such as taste and genius, and theappreciation of the beautiful, and their endowments rendered themcapable of attaining literary excellence; it did not possess the naturalgifts of fancy and imagination, which were part and parcel of the Greekmind, and which made them in a state of infancy, almost of barbarism, apoetical people.

With the Romans literature was not of spontaneous growth: it was theresult of external influence. It is impossible to fix the period atwhich they first became subject to this influence, but it is clear thatin everything mental and spiritual their neighbours the Etruscans weretheir teachers. The influence exercised by this remarkable people wasnot only religious, but moral: its primary object was discipline, itssecondary one refinement. If it cultivated the intellectual powers, itwas with a view to disciplining the moral faculties. To this pureculture the old Roman character owed its vigour, its honesty, itsincorruptible sternness, and those virtues which are summed up in thecomprehensive and truly Roman word “gravitas.” History proves that thesequalities had a real existence—that they were not the mere idealphantasies of those who loved to praise times gone by. The error intowhich those fell who mourned over the loss of the old Roman discipline,and lamented the degeneracy of their own times, was, that theyattributed this degeneracy to the onward march of refinement andcivilization, and not to the accidental circumstance that this march wasaccompanied by profligacy and effeminacy, and that the race which wasthe dispensers of these blessings was a corrupt and degenerate one. Theycould not separate the causes and the effects; they did not see thatRome was intellectually advanced by Greek literature, but thatunfortunately it was degraded at the same time by Greek profligacy.

For centuries the Roman mind was imbued with Etruscan literature; andLivy[93] asserts that, just as Greek was in his own day, it continued tobe the instrument of Roman education during five centuries after thefoundation of the city.

The tendency of the Roman mind was essentially utilitarian. Even Cicero,with all his varied accomplishments, will recognise but one end andobject of all study, namely, those sciences which will render a manuseful to his country:—“Quid esse igitur censes discendum nobis?... Easartes quæ efficiunt ut usui civitati simus; id enim esse præclarissimumsapientiæ munus maximumque virtutis vel documentum vel officiumputo.”[94] We must, therefore, expect to find the law of literarydevelopment modified in accordance with this ruling principle. From thevery beginning, the final cause of Roman literature will be found tohave been a view to utility, and not the satisfaction of an impulsivefeeling.

In other nations poetry has been the first spontaneous production. Withthe Romans the first literary effort was history. But their earlyhistory consisted simply of annals and memorials—records of facts, notof ideas or sentiments. It was calculated to form a storehouse ofvaluable materials for future ages, but it had no impress of genius orthought; its merits were truth and accuracy; its very facts were oftenfrivolous and unimportant, neither rendered interesting as narratives,nor illustrated by reflections. These original documents were elementsof literature rather than deserving the name of literatureitself—antiquarian rather than historical. The earliest records of thiskind were the _Libri Lintei_—manuscripts written on rolls of linencloth, to which Livy refers as containing the first treaty between Romeand Carthage, and the truce made with Ardea and Gabii.[95] To these maybe added the _Annales Maximi_, or _Commentarii Pontificum_, of theminute accuracy of which, the following account is given by Servius.[96]“Every year the chief pontiff inscribed on a white tablet, at the headof which were the names of the consuls and other magistrates, a dailyrecord of all memorable events both at home and abroad. Thesecommentaries or registers were afterwards collected into eighty books,which were entitled by their authors _Annales Maximi_.”

Similar notes of the year were kept regularly from the earliest periodsby the civil magistrates, and are spoken of by Latin authors under thetitles of _Commentarii Consulares_, _Libri Prætorum_, and _TabulæCensoriæ_. All these records, however, which were anterior to thecapture of Rome by the Gauls, perished in the conflagration of the city.

Each patrician house, also, had its private family history, and thelaudatory orations said to have been recited at the funerals ofillustrious members, were carefully preserved, as adorning andillustrating their nobility; but this heraldic literature obscuredinstead of throwing a light upon history: it was filled with falsetriumphs, imaginary consulships, and forged genealogies.[97]

The earliest attempt at poetry, or rather versification, for it wassimply the outward form and not the inward spirit which the rudeinhabitants of Latium attained, was satire in somewhat of a dramaticform. _The Fescennine songs_ were metrical, for the accompaniments ofmusic and dancing necessarily subjected their extemporaneous effusionsto the restrictions of a rude measure. Like the first theatricalexhibitions of the Greeks, they had their origin, not in towns, butamongst the rural population. They were not, like Greek tragedy,performed in honour of a deity, nor did they form a portion of areligious ceremonial. Still, however, they were the accompaniment of it,the pastime of the village festival. Religion was the excuse for theholiday sport, and amusement its natural occupation. At first they wereinnocent and gay, their mirth overflowed in boisterous but good-humouredrepartee; but liberty at length degenerated into license, and gave birthto malicious and libellous attacks on persons of irreproachablecharacter.[98] As the licentiousness of Greek comedy provoked theinterference of the legislature, so the laws of the Twelve Tablesforbade the personalities of the Fescennine verses.

This infancy of song illustrates the character of the Romans in itsrudest and coarsest form. They loved strife, both bodily and mental:with them the highest exercise of the intellect was in legal conflictand political debate; and, on the same principle, the pleasure which thespectators in the rural theatre derived from this species of attack anddefence, approached somewhat nearly to the enthusiasm with which theywould have witnessed an exhibition of gladiatorial skill. The rusticdelighted in the strife of words as he would in the wrestling matcheswhich also formed a portion of his day’s sports, and thus earlydisplayed that taste, which, in more polished ages, and in the hands ofcultivated poets, was developed in the sharp cutting wit, the lively butpiercing points of Roman satire.

The Fescennine verses show that the Romans possessed a natural aptitudefor satire. The pleasure derived from this species of writing, as wellas the moral influence exercised by it, depends not upon an æstheticappreciation of the beautiful, but on a high sense of moral duty; andsuch a sense displays itself in a stern and indignant abhorrence of vicerather than a disposition to be attracted by the charms and lovelinessof virtue. The Romans were a stern, not an æsthetic people, consequentlysatire is the most original of all Roman literature, and the perfect andpolished form which it afterwards assumed was entirely their own. Theydid, indeed, afterwards acutely observe and readily seize upon thoseparts of Greek literature which were subservient to this end, and henceLucilius, the founder of Roman satire, eagerly adopted the models andmaterials which Greek comedy placed at his disposal, and thus became, asHorace[99] writes, a disciple of Eupolis, Cratinus, and Aristophanes.

So permanent was the popularity of these entertainments that they evensurvived the introduction of Greek letters, and received a polish andrefinement from the change which then took place in the spirit of thenational poetry.[100] It has been said, that in these rude elements ofthe drama, Etruria was the first teacher of Latium, and that theepithet, Fescennine, perpetuates the name of an Etrurian village,Fescennia, from which the amusement derived its origin; but Niebuhr hasshown that Fescennia was not an Etruscan village, and, therefore, thatthis etymology is untenable.

The most probable etymology of the word Fescennine is one given byFestus.[101] Fascinium was the Greek Phallus, the emblem of fertility;and as the origin of Greek comedy was derived from the rustic Phallicsongs, so he considers that the same ceremonial may be, in some way,connected with the Fescennine verses. If this be the true account, theEtruscans furnished the spectacle—all that which addresses itself to theeye, whilst the habits of Italian rural life supplied the sarcastichumour and ready extemporaneous gibe, which are the essence of the truecomic; and these combined elements having migrated from the country tothe capital, and being enthusiastically adopted by young men of morerefined taste and more liberal education, afterwards paved the way forthe introduction and adaptation of Greek comedy.

If in these improvisatory dialogues may be discerned the germ of theRoman Comic Drama, the next advance in point of art must be attributedto the Oscans. Their quasi-dramatic entertainments were most popularamongst the Italian nations. They represented in broad caricaturenational peculiarities: the language of the dialogue was, of course,originally Oscan, the characters of the drama were Oscan likewise.[102]The principal one was called Macchus, whose part was that of the Clownin the modern pantomime. Another was termed Bucco, who was a kind ofPantaloon, or charlatan. Much of the wit consisted in practical jokeslike that of the Italian Polichinello. These entertainments weresometimes called Ludi Osci, but they are more commonly known by thetitle of Fabulæ Atellanæ, from Aderla,[103] or, as the Romans pronouncedit, Atella, a town in Campania, where they were very popular, or perhapsfirst performed. After their introduction at Rome they underwent greatmodifications and received important improvements. They lost theirnative rusticity; their satire was good natured; their jests wereseemly, and kept in check by the laws of good taste, and were free fromscurrility or obscenity.[104] They seem in later times to have beendivided, like comedies, into five acts, with exodia,[105] _i. e._farcical interludes in verse, interspersed between them. Nor were theyacted by the common professional performers. The Atellan actors[106]formed a peculiar class; they were not considered infamous, nor werethey excluded from the tribes, but enjoyed the privilege of immunityfrom military service. Even a private Roman citizen might take a part inthem without disgrace or disfranchisement, although these were thesocial penalties imposed upon the regular _histrio_. The Fabulæ Atellanæintroduced thus early remained in favour for centuries. The dictatorSylla is said to have amused his leisure hours in writing them; andSuetonius bears testimony to their having been a popular amusement underthe empire.

As early, however, as the close of the fourth century, the drama took amore artificial form. In the consulship of C. Sulpicius Peticus and C.Dicinius Stolo,[107] a pestilence devastated Rome. In order to deprecatethe anger of the gods, a solemn lectisternium was proclaimed; couches ofmarble were prepared, with cushions and coverlets of tapestry, on whichwere placed the statues of the deities in a reclining posture. Beforethem were placed well-spread tables, as though they were able to partakeof the feast. On this occasion a company of stage-players (_histriones_)were sent for from Etruria, as a means, according to Livy[108] ofpropitiating the favour of Heaven; but probably also for the wiserpurpose of diverting the popular mind from the contemplation of theirown suffering. These entertainments were a novelty to a people whoseonly recognised public sports, up to that time, with the exception ofthe rural drama already described, had been trials of bodily strengthand skill. The exhibitions of the Etruscan histriones consisted ofgraceful national dances, accompanied with the music of the flute, butwithout either songs or dramatic action. They were, therefore, simply_ballets_, and not _dramas_.

Thus the Etruscans furnished the suggestion: the Romans improved uponit, and invested it with a dramatic character. They combined the oldFescennine songs with the newly introduced dances. The varied metreswhich the unrestrained nature of their rude verse permitted to the vocalparts, gave to this mixed entertainment the name of satura (ahodge-podge or pot-pourri,) from which in after times the word satirewas derived. The actors in these quasi-dramas were professed histriones,and no further alteration took place until that introduced by LiviusAndronicus.

 CHAPTER V.

EMANCIPATION OF LIVIUS ANDRONICUS—HIS IMITATION OF THE ODYSSEY—NEW KINDOF SCENIC EXHIBITIONS—FIRST EXHIBITION OF HIS DRAMAS—NÆVIUS A POLITICALPARTISAN—HIS BITTERNESS—HIS PUNIC WAR—HIS NATIONALITY—HIS VERSIFICATION.

 LIVIUS ANDRONICUS (FLOURISHED ABOUT B. C. 240.)

The events already related had by this time prepared the Roman peoplefor the reception of a more regular drama, when, at the conclusion ofthe first Punic War, the influence of Greek intellect, which had alreadylong been felt in Italy, extended to the capital. But not only did theRomans owe to Greece the principles of literary taste, and the originalmodels from which the elements of that taste were derived, but theirfirst and earliest poet was one of that nation. Livius Andronicus,although born in Italy, educated in the Latin tongue at Rome, andsubsequently a naturalized Roman, is generally supposed to have been anative of the Greek colony of Tarentum. He was a man of cultivated mind,and well versed in the literature of his nation, especially in dramaticpoetry. How he came to be at Rome in the condition of a slave, it isimpossible to say. Attius stated that he was taken prisoner at Tarentumby Q. Fabius Maximus, when he recovered that city, in the tenth year ofthe second Punic War. But Cicero shows, on the authority of Atticus,that this date is thirty years later than the period at which he firstexhibited at Rome, and Niebuhr[109] considers that the reason why he iscalled a Tarentine captive is, from being confounded with one M. LiviusMacatus, mentioned by Livy.[110] He may perhaps have owed his change offortune to being made a prisoner of war; at any rate, he became one ofthe household of M. Livius Salinator, and occupied the confidentialposition of instructor to his children. The employment as tutors ofGreek slaves, who, being men of education and refinement, had falleninto this position by the fortune of war, was customary with the wealthyRomans. By this means there was rapidly introduced amongst the risinggeneration of the higher classes a knowledge of that language andlearning which the Romans so eagerly embraced and so enthusiasticallyadmired.

Fidelity in so important a situation generally gained the esteem andaffection of the patron. The generous Roman became a protector of theman of genius rather than his master, and conferred upon him the gift offreedom. Andronicus was emancipated under such circumstances as these,and according to custom received the name of his former master, Livius,and his civil and political rank became that of an ærarius. He wrote atranslation, or perhaps an imitation of the Odyssey, in the oldSaturnian metre, and also a few hymns. Niebuhr supposes that the reasonwhy he has translated or epitomized the Odyssey in preference to theIliad is, that it would have greater attractions for the Romans, inconsequence of the relation which it bore to the ancient legends ofItaly. The sea which washes the coast of Italy was the scene of many ofthe most marvellous adventures of Ulysses. Sicily, in which, owing tothe wars with Hiero and the Carthaginians, the Romans now began to takea lively interest, was represented in the Odyssey as abounding in theelements of poetry. Circe’s fairy abode was within sight of land—apromontory of Latium bore her name, and one of Ulysses’ sons by her was,according to the legend of Hesiod, Latinus, the patriarch of the Latinname. His principal works, however, were tragedies. The passion of theRomans for shows and exhibitions, the love of action, and of stirringbusiness-like occupation, which characterizes them, would make the dramapopular, and it would harmonize with the public entertainments, in whichthey had been accustomed to take pleasure from the earliest times, whentradition informs us that the founder of their race instituted thesolemn games to the equestrian Neptune, and invited all the neighboursto the spectacle;[111] and when Ancus celebrated with unwonted splendourthe Great Games, and appointed separate seats and boxes for the knightsand senators.[112] It was probable that Livius Andronicus, comingforward as the introducer of a new era in literature, would study thecharacter as well as the language of his newly-adopted countrymen, andendeavour to please them as well as teach them. In order to becomeeventually a leader of the public taste, he would at first fall in withit to a certain degree. The process by which he moulded it after themodel which he considered the true one, would be gentle and gradual, notsudden and abrupt. The paucity and brevity of the fragments which areextant furnish but little opportunity for forming an accurate estimateof his ability as a poet, and his competency to guide and form the tasteof a people. Hermann[113] has collected together the fragments of theLatin Odyssey which are scattered through the works of Gellius,Priscian, Festus, Nonius, and others, and has compared them with theHomeric passages of which they are the translations. Few of these,however, are longer than a single line; and, therefore, the only opinionwhich can be formed respecting them is, that although the versificationis rough and rhythmical rather than metrical, the language is vigorousand expressive, and conveys, as far as a translation can, the force andmeaning of the original.

Nor do the criticisms of the ancient classical authors furnish muchassistance in coming to a decision. Their tastes were so completelyGreek, and the prejudices of their education so strong, that they couldscarcely confess the existence of excellence in a poet so old asAndronicus. Cicero says in the Brutus,[114] that his Latin Odyssey wasas old-fashioned and rude as would have been the sculptures of Dædalus,and that his dramas would not bear a second perusal. Horace, however, isnot quite so sweeping in his strictures. He confesses that he would notcondemn the poems of Livius[115] to utter oblivion, although heremembers them in connexion with the floggings of his schoolmaster; buthe is surprised that any one should consider them polished andbeautiful, and not falling far short of critical exactness.

A passage in the history of Livy seems to imply that Andronicus venturedupon some deviations from the ancient plan of scenic exhibitions.[116]According to him, Livius was the first who substituted, for the rudeextemporaneous effusions of the Fescennine verse, plays with a regularplot and fable. He adds, that in consequence of losing his voice frombeing frequently encored, he obtained permission to introduce a boy tosing the ode, or air, to the accompaniment of the flute, whilst hehimself represented the action of the song by his gestures and dancing.He was thus enabled to depict the subject with greater vigour andfreedom of pantomimic action, because he was unimpeded by the obligationto use his voice. Hence the custom began of the actor responding by hisgesticulation to the song and music of another, whilst the dialoguebetween the odes was delivered without any musical accompaniment.

The passage of which the above is a paraphrase, is as follows:—“Liviuspost aliquot annos qui ab saturis ausus est primus argumento fabulamserere (idem scilicet, id quod omnes tum erant, suorum carminum actor)dicitur, quum sæpius revocatus vocem obtudisset, veniâ petitâ, puerum adcanendum ante tibicinem quum statuisset, canticum egisse aliquanto magisvigente motu, quia nihil vocis usus impediebat. Inde ad manum cantarihistrionibus cæptum, diverbiaque tantum ipsorum voci relicta.” It isevident that this description points out the introduction of theprinciples of Greek art. We are reminded of the hyporchemes in honour ofApollo, in which the gestures of certain members of the chorusrepresented the incidents related or sentiments expressed by the singer,and also the separation of the choral or musical part from the dialogueof a Greek tragedy. Nevertheless, the choral or lyrical portion of thedrama to which alone this novel practice introduced by Livius applies,found but a small part in a Latin tragedy, if compared with those of theGreeks. In this alone the poet himself sustained a part, whilst thewhole of the dialogue (diverbia) was recited by professional performers.

This new style of dramatic performances, however, does not appear atfirst to have taken such hold upon the affections of the people as tosupersede their old amusements. They admitted them, and witnessed themwith pleasure and applause, but they would not give up the old. Theyoung men wished their amusements to be really games and sports; theywere not content to be merely quiet spectators. Extemporaneous effusionswere more convenient for amateurs than regular plays, and joke and jestthan tragic earnest. The new custom introduced by Livius elevated thedrama above the region of ribaldry and laughter, but the art and skillrequisite confined the work to the professional performer. The youngRomans, therefore, left to the stage-player the regular drama, restoredtheir old amusement as an exodium or after-piece, and did not suffer it,as Livy says, to be “polluted” by the interference of _histriones_.According to the testimony of Cicero,[117] who makes his statement onthe authority of Atticus, Livius first exhibited his dramas in the yearbefore the birth of Ennius, in the consulship of C. Clodius and M.Tuditanus, A. U. C. 514.[118] This date is also adopted by AulusGellius,[119] who places his first dramatic representations about ahundred and sixty years after the death of Sophocles, and fifty-twoyears after that of Menander. The titles of his tragedies which areextant show that they were translations or adaptations from the Greek.Amongst them are those of Egisthus, Hermione, Tereus, Ajax, and Helena.From each of the last two one line is preserved, and four lines arequoted by Terentianus Maurus from his tragedy of Ino;[120] but thelanguage and metre render it far more probable that they were written bysome more modern poet. Two of his tragedies, the Clytemnestra and theTrojan Horse, were acted in the second consulship of Pompey the Great,at the inauguration of the splendid stone theatre[121] which he built.No expense was spared in putting them upon the stage, for Cicero writes,in a letter to M. Marius,[122] that three thousand bucklers, the spoilsof foreign nations, were exhibited in the latter, and a procession ofsix hundred mules, probably richly caparisoned, were introduced in theformer, whilst cavalry and infantry, clad in various armour, mingled inmimic combat on the scene. He considers, however, that this splendourwas an offence against good taste, and that the enjoyment was spoilt bythe gorgeousness of the spectacle. The taste of his patrons, the Romanpeople, as well as the testimony of antiquity, render it highly probablethat he was the author of comedies[123] as well as tragedies. Festusspeaks of one, of which he quotes a single line, for the sake of itsphilological value.

 CN. NÆVIUS.

Nævius was the first poet who really deserves the name of Roman. Hiscountrymen in all ages, as well as his contemporaries, looked upon himas one of themselves. The probability is, that he was not actually bornat Rome, though even this has been maintained with some show ofplausibility.[124] He was, at any rate, by birth entitled to themunicipal franchise, and from his earliest boyhood was a resident in thecapital. Nor was he a mere servile imitator, but applied Greek taste andcultivation to the development of Roman sentiments. A true Roman inheart and spirit in his fearless attachment to liberty; his sternopposition to all who dared invade the rights of his fellow-citizens; hewas unsparing in his censure of immorality, and his admiration forheroic self-devotion. He was a soldier, and imbibed the free and martialenthusiasm which breathes in his poems when he fought the battles of hiscountry in the first Punic War. His honest principles cemented, in hislater years, a strong friendship between him and the upright andunbending Cato,[125]—a friendship which probably contributed to form thepolitical and literary character of that stern old Roman.

It is generally assumed that Nævius was a Campanian; but the only reasonfor this assumption is, that A. Gellius[126] criticises his epitaph, ofwhich Nævius himself was the author, as full of Campanian pride.

The time of his birth is unknown, but it is probable that his publiccareer commenced within a very few years after that of Livius. Gelliusfixes the exhibition of his first drama in B. C. 235,[127] and Ciceroplaces his death in the consulship of M. Cornelius Cethegus and P.Sempronius Tuditanus,[128] although he allows that Varro, who places itsomewhat later, is the most pains-taking of Roman antiquarians. It isalso certain that he died at an advanced age, for, according to Cicero,he was an old man when he wrote one of his poems. He was the author ofan epic poem, the title of which was the Punic War; but, owing to thepopularity of dramatic literature, his earliest literary productionswere tragedies and comedies. The titles of most of these show that theirsubjects were Greek legends or stories. It was, therefore, in his epicpoem that the acknowledged originality of his talents was mainlydisplayed. Nævius was a strong political partisan, a warm supporter ofthe people against the encroachments of the nobility. In consequence ofthe expenditure during the war, great part of the population was reducedto poverty, and a strong line of demarkation was drawn between the richand the poor. The estrangement and want of sympathy between those twoclasses were daily increasing. The barrier of _caste_ was indeed almostdestroyed, but that of _class_ was beginning to be erected in its stead.The passing of the Licinian bills[129] had led to the gradual rise of aplebeian nobility. The Ogulnian law[130] had admitted patrician andplebeian to a religious as well as political equality, and more thanthree-quarters of a century had passed away since Appius Claudius theblind[131] had given political existence to the freedmen by admittingthem into the tribes, and had even raised some whose fathers had beenfreedmen to the rank of senators, to the exclusion of many distinguishedplebeians who had filled curule offices. The object which he proposed tohimself by this policy was undoubtedly the depression of the risingplebeian nobility, and this object was for a time attained; but theultimate result was a vast increase in the numbers and the power ofthose who were opposed to the old patrician nobility, by the formationof a higher class, the only qualification for admission into which waswealth and intelligence. According to the old distinctions of rank itwas necessary that even a plebeian should have a pedigree; his fatherand grandfather must have been born free. Appius, when chosen for thefirst time, waived this, and introduced a new principle of politicalparty. Of this anti-aristocratic party Nævius was the literaryrepresentative, and the vehement opponent of privileges derived from theaccident of birth. His position, too, was calculated to provoke a man ofbetter temper. He was a Roman citizen, but, as a native of a municipaltown, he did not possess the full franchise which he saw enjoyed byothers around him who were intellectually inferior to himself, and thesense of his political inferiority was galling to him. Accordingly heused literature as a new and powerful instrument to foster the jealousywhich existed between the orders of the state. He attacked the principleof an aristocracy of birth in the persons of some members of the mostdistinguished families. He held up Scipio Africanus to ridicule bymaking him the hero of a tale of scandal.

 Etiam qui res magnas manu gessit sæpe gloriose, Cujus facta viva nunc vigent, qui apud gentes solas Præstat, eum suus pater cum pallio una ab amica abduxit.

The public services of the two Metelli could not shield them from thepoet’s bitterness, which attributed their consulships not to their ownmerits, but to the mere will of fate.[132] One bitter sentence, “FatoMetelli Romæ fiunt consules.” made that powerful family his enemies. TheMetellus, who at that time held the office of consul, threatened himwith vengeance for his slander in the following verse:—“Dabunt malumMetelli Nævio poetæ.” and the offending poet was indicted for a libel,in pursuance of a law of the Twelve Tables,[133] and thrown into prison.Whilst there he composed two pieces, in which he expressed contrition;and Plautus[134] describes him as watched by two jailers, pensivelyresting his head upon his hands:—

 Nam os columnatum poetæ esse inaudivi barbaro, Quoi bini custodes semper totis horis accubant.

Through the influence of the tribunes he was set at liberty.[135] As,however, is frequently the case, he could not resist indulging again inhis satiric vein, and he was exiled to Utica, where he died,[136] havingemployed the last years of his life in writing his epic poem. Thefollowing laudatory epitaph was written by himself:—

 Mortales immortales flere si foret fas, Flerent Divæ Camenæ Nævium poetam. Itaque postquam est Orcino traditus thesauro Obliti sunt Romani loquier Latinâ linguâ.

 If gods might to a mortal pay the tribute of a tear, The Muses would shed one upon the poet Nævius’ bier; For when he was transferred unto the regions of the tomb, The people soon forgot to speak the native tongue of Rome.

The best and most admired writers have paid their homage to hisexcellence. Ennius and Virgil discovered in him such a freshness andpower that they unscrupulously copied and imitated him, and transferredhis thoughts into their own poems as they did those of Homer. Horacewrites that in his day the poems of Nævius were universally read, andwere in the hands and hearts of everybody, and Cicero[137] praises him,although he had no taste for the old national literature.

We cannot be surprised at the universal popularity of Nævius. His sternlove of liberty, his unsparing opposition to aristocratic exclusiveness,was identical with the old Roman republicanism. His taste for satireexactly fell in with the spirit of the earliest Roman literature, whilsthe depicted with life and vigour and graphic skill the scenes of heroismin which the soldier-poet of the first Punic War was himself an actor.His tragedies were probably entirely taken from the Greek, but hiscomedies had undoubted pretensions to originality. The titles of many ofthem plainly show a Greek origin; but probably all more or lesspresented pictures of Roman life and manners, and therefore went home tothe hearts of the people. This is essential to the completeeffectiveness of comedy. Tragedy appeals to higher feelings: it depictspassions and principles of action which are recognised by the wholehuman race; it may, therefore, enlist the sympathies on the side ofthose whose habits and manners differ from our own, as it does in favourof those characters which are of a heroic and superhuman mould. Comedyprofesses to describe real life, and to paint men as they are; ittherefore loses part of its power unless it deals with scenes which theexperience of the audience can realize. Thus it is with painting. Thehigh art of the Italian school, which selected for its subjects the holyscenes of religion, the heroism of history, and the creatures ofclassical poetry, was fostered by the taste of the rich and nobleamongst a highly cultivated and imaginative people. The homely realitiesof the Flemish painters, with their accurate and lifelike delineations,were the delight of a rude prosaic nation, who could not appreciate amore elevated style or understand ideal beauties unless brought down tothe level of every-day life.

The new form with which Nævius invested comedy gave him scope forholding up to public scorn the prevailing vices and follies of the day.He had also another vehicle for personality in his Ludi or Satiræ, asthey were termed by Cicero. These were comic scenes, and not regulardramas, somewhat resembling the Atellan farces, without theirextemporaneous character. But his great work was his poem on the firstPunic War. We cannot judge of its merits by the few fragments whichremain; but the testimony borne to it by Cicero, and the use which wasmade of it by Ennius and Virgil, prove that it fully deserved the titleof an epic poem. The idea was original, the plot and characters Roman.The author, although Greek literature taught him how to be a poet, drewhis inspiration from the scenes of his native Italy and the exploits ofhis countrymen. To this poem Virgil owed that beautiful allegoricalrepresentation of the undying enmity between Rome and Carthage, and thedisastrous love of Æneas and Dido. Here was first painted in suchtouching colours the self-devoted patriotism of Regulus, whom (althoughlove of historic truth refuses to believe the legend) the poetrepresents as sacrificing home and wife and children to a sense ofhonour, and as submitting to a torturing death for the sake of hiscountry. Probably many other heart-stirring legends and tales of prowesswhich had cheered the nightly bivouac of the soldiers and inspiritedthem in the field, were embodied in this popular epic. Not that hedisdained any more than Virgil the aid of Homer.[138] The second book ofthe Iliad suggested to him the enumeration of the opposing forces at thecommencement of the struggle, and the description of the storm, fromwhich Virgil, in his turn, copied in the Æneid,[139] owes much of itsenergy to the eighth book of the Odyssey. The expostulation of Venuswith the father of gods and men,[140] respecting the perils of her son,and the promise of future prosperity to the descendants of Æneas, withwhich Jupiter consoles her, as well as the address of Æneas to hiscompanions, are imitations of passages from this poem of Nævius; andEnnius copied so much from him and his predecessors as to have provokedthe following rebuke from Cicero:[141]—“They have written well, if notwith all thy elegance, and so oughtest thou to think who have borrowedso much from Nævius, if you confess that you have done so, or, if youdeny it, have stolen so much from him.”

The fragments of Nævius extant are not more numerous than those ofLivius, but some are rather longer. The two following may be quoted asexamples of simplicity and power:—

 Amborum Uxores noctu Troiad exibant capitibus Opertis, flentes ambæ, abeuntes lacrymis multis.[142]

These few words tell their tale with as much pathos as that admired linein the Andrian of Terence—

 Rejecit se in eum flens quam familiariter.

The following lines describe the panic of the Carthaginians; nor couldany Roman poet have sketched the picture in fewer strokes or with moresuggestive power:—

 Sic Poinei contremiscunt artibus universim; Magnei metus tumultus pectora possidet Cæsum funera agitant, exequias ititant, Temulentiamque tollunt festam.[143]

Whoever can forgive roughness of expression for the sake of vigorousthought, would, if more had remained, have read with delight theinartificial although unpolished poetry of Nævius. Without thatelaborate workmanship which was to the Roman the only substitute for thespontaneous grace and beauty of all that proceeded from the Greek mind,and was expressed in the Greek tongue, there is no doubt that Næviusdisplayed genius, originality, and dignity. The prejudices of Horace infavour of Greek taste were too strong for him to value what was old inpoetry, or to sympathize with the admiration of that which the goddessof death had consecrated.[144] But Cicero, whilst he attributed toLivius only the mechanic skill and barbaric art of Dædalus, gave toNævius the creative talent and plastic power of Myron.

Even when Roman critics were not unanimous in assigning him a nicheamongst the greatest bards, the Roman people loved him as their nationalpoet, and were grateful to him for his nationality. They paid him thehighest compliment possible by retaining him as the educator of theiryouth. Orbilius flogged his sentiments into his pupil’s memories; and,whilst the niceties of grammar were taught through the instrumentalityof Greek by Greek instructors, and poetic taste was formed by a study ofthe Homeric poems, Nævius still had the formation of the character ofthe young Roman gentlemen, and his epic was in the hands and hearts ofevery one.

One more subject remains to be treated of with reference to the literaryproductions of Nævius, and that is, the metrical character of hispoetry. He appreciated that important element of Greek poetic beauty.The varied versification by means of which it appeals at once to theear, just as physical beauty charms long before we are attracted by thehidden power of moral excellence, and external form creates a prejudicein favour of that which is of more intrinsic value, but cannot soreadily be perceived, so the melody of verse more readily pleases thanthe beauty of the imagery and sentiments which the verses convey.Nævius, therefore, did not disdain to recommend his original genius by astudy of the principles of Greek versification, and by clothing histhoughts in those which his ear suggested as being most appropriate tothe occasion. He does not seem to have overcome the difficulties of theheroic metre, although he studied the Homeric poems.

Probably as the Saturnian, the only natural Italian measure which hefound existing, was a triple time, the Roman ear could not at once adaptitself to the common time of the dactylic measures. The versification ofour own country furnishes an analogous example. The usual metres ofEnglish poetry consist of an alternation of long and short syllables;dactyles and anapæsts are of less frequent occurrence and are of moremodern introduction, and the English ear is even yet not quiteaccustomed to the hexametrical rhythm. The dignity of the epic isexpressed in the grave march of the iambus; the ballad tells its storyin the same metre, though in shorter lines; the joyous Anacreonticadopts the dancing step of the trochee. For this reason, perhaps,Nævius, as a matter of taste, limited himself to the introduction ofiambic and trochaic metres, and the irregular features of Greek lyricpoetry to the exclusion of the heroic hexameter.

It was long before the Romans could arrive at perfection in this metre.Ennius was unsuccessful. His hexameters are rough and unmusical; heseems never to have perfectly understood the nature and beauty of the_cæsura_ or pause. The failure of Cicero, notwithstanding his naturalmusical ear, is proverbial. No one previous to Virgil seems to haveovercome the difficulty. Versification seems always to have beensomewhat of a labour to the Romans. In the structure of their poetrythey worked by rule; their finish was artistic, but it was artificial.Hence the Latin poet allowed himself less metrical liberty than theGreek, whom he made his model. He seemed to feel that the Greek metres,which the education of his taste had compelled him to adopt, were notprecisely the form into which Latin words naturally fell; that thisdeficiency must be supplied by the care with which he moulded his verse,according to the strictest possible standard. One can imagine theextemporaneous effusions of a Homeric bard; but to Roman taste which, inevery literary work, especially in poetry, looked for elaborate finish,the power of the improvisator, who could pour forth a hundred versesstanding on one foot, was a ridiculous pretension.[145]

As a general rule, no Roman poet attained facility in versification;Ovid was perhaps the only exception. In the early period, when Romanpoetry was extemporaneous, their national verse was only rhythmical, andnow that modern Italy can boast of the faculty of improvisation, versehas become rhythmical again. But although Nævius introduced a variety ofGreek metres to the Romans, the principal part of his poems, andespecially his national epic, were written in the old Saturnian measure:its structure was indeed less rude, and its metre more regular andscientific, but still he did not permit the new rules of Greek poetry tobanish entirely the favourite verses “in which in olden times Fauns andbards sung,” and which would most acceptably convey to the national earthe achievements of Roman arms.

 CHAPTER VI.

NÆVIUS STOOD BETWEEN TWO AGES—LIFE OF ENNIUS—EPITAPHS WRITTEN BY HIM—HIS

 TASTE, LEARNING, AND CHARACTER—HIS FITNESS FOR BEING A LITERARY REFORMER—HIS INFLUENCE ON THE LANGUAGE—HIS VERSIFICATION—THEANNALS—DIFFICULTIES OF THE SUBJECT—TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES—SATIRÆ—MINOR WORKS.

 ENNIUS (BORN B. C. 239.)

Nævius appears to have occupied a position between two successive ages;he was the last of the oldest school of writers, and prepared the wayfor a new one. Although a true Roman in sentiment, he admired Greekcultivation. He saw with regret the old literature of his country fadingaway, although he had himself introduced new principles of taste to hiscountrymen. He was not prepared for the shock of seeing the old schoolsuperseded by the new. But still the period for this had arrived, and inhis epitaph, as we have seen, he deplored that Latin had died with him.A love for old Roman literature remained amongst the goatherds of thehills and the husbandmen of the valleys and plains, in whose memorieslived the old songs which had been the delight of their infancy: itsurvived amongst the few who could discern merit in undisciplinedgenius; but the rising generation, who owed their taste to education,admired only those productions by which their taste had been formed.Greek literature had now an open field in which to flourish: it haddriven out its predecessor, although as yet it had not struck its rootsdeeply into the Roman mind; a new school of poetry arose, and of thatschool Ennius was the founder. The principal events in the life ofEnnius are as follows:—he was born at the little village of Rudiæ, inthe wild and mountainous Calabria, B. C. 239.[146] Of ancient andhonourable descent,[147] he is said[148] to have begun life in amilitary career, and to have risen to the rank of a centurion orcaptain. The anonymous author of the life of Cato, which is generallyattributed to Cornelius Nepos, relates that Cato in his voyage fromAfrica to Rome[149] visited Sardinia, and finding Ennius in that islandtook him home with him. But no reason can be assigned why Ennius shouldhave been there, or why Cato should have gone so far out of his way. Ifthe Censor did really introduce the poet to public notice at Rome, hemay have made his acquaintance during his quæstorship in Africa, ifEnnius was with Scipio in that province; or during his prætorship[150]in Sardinia, if the poet was a resident in that island. There exist,however, no sufficient data to clear up these difficulties.

It seems, moreover, strange that Cato should have been his patron, andyet that he should have reproached M. Fulvius Nobilior for taking thepoet with him as his companion throughout his Ætolian expedition.[151]With the exception of this campaign, Ennius resided during the remainderof his long life at Rome. Greek and Greek literature were now eagerlysought after by the higher classes, and Ennius earned a subsistencesufficient for his moderate wants by tuition. He enjoyed the friendshipand esteem of the leading literary societies at Rome; and at his death,at the age of seventy, he was buried in the family tomb of the Scipios,at the request of the great conqueror of Hannibal, whose fame hecontributed to hand down to posterity. His statue was honoured with aniche amongst the images of that illustrious race. The following epitaphwas written by himself:—[152]

 Adspicite, O cives, senis Enni imagini’ formam Hic vostrum panxit maxima facta patrum. Nemo me lacrymis decoret, nec funera fletu Faxit. cur? volito vivu’ per ora virum.

The epitaph which he wrote in honour of Scipio Africanus has also beenpreserved:—[153]

 Hic est ille situs, cui nemo civi’ neque hostis Quivit pro factis reddere operæ pretium.

It is probable that death alone put a period to his career as a poet,and that his last work was completed but a short time before hisdecease. So popular was he for centuries, and with such care were hispoems preserved, that his whole works are said to have existed as lateas the thirteenth century.[154]

Literature, as represented by Ennius, attained a higher social andpolitical position than it had hitherto enjoyed. Livius Andronicus was,as we have seen, a freedman, and probably a prisoner of war. Næviusnever arrived at the full civic franchise, nor became anything more thanthe native of a municipality, resident at Rome. Hitherto the Romans,although they had begun to admire learning, had not learned to respectits professors. Ennius was evidently a gentleman; he was the first toobtain for literature its due influence. Thus he achieved for himselfthe much-coveted privileges of a Roman citizen, to which Livius hadnever aspired, and which Nævius was never able to attain. Hence Ciceroalways speaks of him with affection as a fellow-countryman. “Our ownEnnius” is the appellation which he uses when he quotes his poetry.Horace also calls him “Father Ennius,” a term implying not only that hewas the founder of Latin poetry, but also reverence and regard.

To discriminating taste and extensive learning he added that versatilityof talent which is displayed in the great variety of his compositions.He was acquainted with all the best existing sources of poetic lore, theancient legends of the Roman people, and the best works of the Greekwriters; he had critical judgment to select beautiful and interestingportions, ingenuity to imitate them, and at the same time genius andfancy to clothe them with originality. It was not to be expected that hecould be entirely freed from the antiquated style of the old school. Theprocess of remodelling a national literature, including the verylanguage in which it is expressed, and the metrical harmonies in whichit falls upon the ear, is almost like reforming the modes of thought,and reconstructing the character of a people. Such a work must begradual and gentle: a nation’s mind will not bend at once to newprinciples of taste and new rules of art. To attempt a violentrevolution would be absurd, and argue ignorance of human nature. Thepoet who attempted it would fail in gaining sympathy, which is anessential element of success. To cause such a revolution at all requiresa strong will and a vigorous manly mind; and these are precisely thecharacteristic features of the Ennian poetry.

If we were to paint the character best adapted to act the part of aliterary reformer to a nation such as the Romans were, it would beexactly that of Ennius. He was, like his friends Cato the Censor andScipio Africanus the elder, a man of action as well as philosophicalthought. He was not only a poet, but he was a brave and stout-heartedsoldier. He had all the singleness of heart and unostentatioussimplicity of manners which marked the old times of Roman virtue; helived the life of the Cincinnati, the Curii, and Fabricii, which thepoets of the luxurious Augustan age professed to admire, but did notimitate. Rome was now beginning to be wealthy, and wealth to be thebadge of rank; yet the noble poet was respected by the rich and great,even in his lowly cottage on the Aventine, and found it no discredit tobe employed as an instructor of youth, although it had been up to histime only the occupation of servants and freedmen. He was the founder ofa new school, and was leading his admirers forward to a new career; buthis imagination could revel in the recollections and traditions of thepast. To him the glorious exploits of the patriarchs of his racefurnished as rich a mine of fable as the heroic strains of Homer, themarvellous mythologies of Hesiod, and the tragic heroes of Argos, Mycenæand Thebes. His early training in Greek philosophy and poetry, and inthe midst of Greek habits in his native village, had not polished andrefined away his natural freshness. He was a child of art, but a childof nature still. He had a firm belief in his mission as a poet, anabiding conviction of his inspiration. He thought he was notmetaphorically, but really, what Horace calls him, a second Homer,[155]for that the soul of the great Greek bard now animated his mortal body.He had all the enthusiasm and boldness necessary for accomplishing agreat task, together with a consciousness that his task was a great andhonourable one.

Owing to this rare union of the best points of Roman character withGreek refinement and civilization, he rendered himself as well as hisworks acceptable to the most distinguished men of his day, and hisintimacy and friendship influenced the minds of Porcius Cato, Lælius,Fulvius Nobilior, and the great Scipio.

A comparison of the extant specimens of the old Latin with the numerousfragments[156] of the poems of Ennius which have been preserved, willshow how deeply they were indebted to him for the improvement of theirlanguage, not only in the harmony of its numbers and the convenience ofits grammatical forms, but also in its copiousness and power.

It must not, however, be supposed that Ennius is to be praised, not onlybecause he did so much, but because he refrained from doing more, asthough he designedly left an antiquated rudeness, redolent of the oldRoman spirit and simplicity. A language in the condition or phase ofimprovement to which he brought it is valuable in an antiquarian pointof view; but it is not to be admired as if it were then in a higherstate of perfection than it afterwards attained. Elaborate polish may,perhaps, overcome life and freshness, but no one who possesses anycorrectness of ear or appreciation of beauty can prefer the limpinghexameters of Ennius to the musical lines of Virgil, or his later styleto the refined eloquence of the Augustan age. As Quintilian says, wevalue Ennius, not for the beauty of his style, but for hispicturesqueness, and for the holiness, as it were, which consecratesantiquity, just as we feel a reverential awe when we contemplate thehuge gnarled fathers of the forest. “Ennium sicut sacros vetustate lucosadoremus in quibus grandia et antiqua robora, jam non tantam habentspeciem, quantam religionem.”

His predecessors had done little to remould the rude and undigested masswhich, as has been shown, was made up of several elements, throwntogether by the chance of war and conquest, and left to be amalgamatedtogether by the natural genius of the people. Ennius naturally possessedgreat power over words, and wielded that power skilfully. Inreconstructing the edifice he did the most important and most difficultpart, although the result of his labours does not strike the eye asperfect and consummate. He laid the foundation strongly and safely. Whathe did was improved upon, but was never undone. The taste of succeedingages erected on his basement an elegant and beautiful superstructure. ToEnnius we owe the fact that after his time Latin literature was alwaysadvancing until it reached its perfection. It never went back, becausethe groundwork on which it was built was sound.

Ennius imitated most of the Greek metrical forms; but he wrote verseslike a learner, and not like one imbued with the spirit of the metreswhich he imitated. He attended to the prosodiac rules of quantity, sofar as his observation deduced them from the analogies of the twolanguages, instead of the old Roman principle of ictus or stress; but,provided the number of feet were correct, and the long and shortsyllables followed each other in proper order, his ear was satisfied: itwas not as yet sufficiently in tune to appreciate those minuteraccessaries which embellish later Latin versification. This is theprincipal cause of that ruggedness with which even the admirers ofEnnius justly find fault. But notwithstanding these defects, there areamongst his verses some as musical and harmonious as those of the bestpoets in the Augustan age.

His great epic poem, entitled “The Annals,” gained him the attachment aswell as the admiration of his countrymen. This poem, written inhexameters, a metre now first introduced to the notice of the Romans,detailed in eighteen books the rise and progress of their nationalglory, from the earliest legendary periods down to his own times. Theonly portion of history which he omitted was the first Punic war; andthe reason which he gives for the omission is that others haveanticipated him[157]—alluding to his predecessors Livius and Nævius.

The subject which he proposed to himself was one of considerabledifficulty. The title and scope of his work compelled him to adopt astrict chronological order instead of the principles of epicarrangement, and to invest the truths which the course of history forcedupon his acceptance with the interest of fiction. His subject could haveno unity, no hero upon whose fortunes the principal interest should beconcentrated, and around whom the leading events should groupthemselves. But still no history could be better adapted to his purposethan that of his own country. Its early legends form a long series ofpoetical romances, fit to be sung in heroic numbers, although from beingoriginally unconnected with each other, incapable of being woven intoone epic story. Ennius had to unite in himself the characters of thehistorian and the poet—to teach what he believed to be truth, and yet tomove the feelings and delight the fancy by the embellishments offiction. The poetical merit in which he must necessarily have beendeficient was the conduct of the plot; but the fragments of his poem arenot sufficiently numerous for us to discover this deficiency. They are,however, amply sufficient to show that he possessed picturesque powerboth in sketching his narratives and in portraying his characters. Hisscenes are full of activity and animation; his characters seem to liveand breathe; his sentiments are noble, and full of a healthfulenthusiasm. His language is what that of an old Roman ought to be, suchas we might have expected from Cato and Scipio had they been poets:dignified, chaste, severe, it rises as high as the most majesticeloquence, although it does not soar to the sublimity of poetry.

The parts in which he approaches most nearly to his great model, or, ashe believed, the source of his inspiration, were in his descriptions ofbattles. Here the martial spirit of the Roman warrior shines forth; theold soldier seems to revel in the scenes of his youth. The poem whichoccupied his declining years shows that it was his greatest pleasure torecord the triumphs of his countrymen, and to teach posterity how theirancestors had won so many glorious fields. His similes are simplyimitations; they show that he had taste to appreciate the peculiarfeatures of the Homeric Poem; but as must be the case with mereimitations, they have not the energy which characterizes his battles.

As a dramatic poet, Ennius does not deserve a high reputation. A tragicdrama must be of native growth, it will not bear transplanting. TheRomans did not possess the elements of tragedy; the genius of Ennius wasnot able to remedy that defect, and he could do no more than select,with the taste and judgment which he possessed, such Greek dramas aswere likely to be interesting. Probably, however, his tragedies neverbecame popular; they were admired by the narrow literary circle in whichhis private life was passed. Those who were familiar with the Greekoriginals were delighted to see their favourites transferred into theirnative language; those who were not, had their curiosity gratified, andwelcomed even these reflections of the glorious minds of Æschylus,Sophocles, and Euripides.

But the tribute of admiration which the ancient classical authors paidto Ennius, was paid to him as an epic not as a dramatic poet. Cicerowhen he speaks in his praise generally quotes from the Annals, only oncefrom a tragedy.[158] Virgil borrows lines and thoughts, together withthe commencement and conclusion of the same poem; and, although the fameof Ennius survived the decline of Roman tragedy, and flourished even inthe age of the Antonines,[159] and his verses were heard in the theatreof Puteoli (Pozzuoli,) the entertainment did not consist of one of histragedies, but of recitations from his epic poem. Nevertheless histragedies were very numerous, and the titles and some fragments oftwenty-three remain. They are all close imitations, or eventranslations, of the Greek. Of fifteen fragments of his Medea which areextant, there is not one which does not correspond with some passage inthe Medea of Euripides: the little which we have of his Eumenides is atranscript from the tragedy of Æschylus;[160] and, according to A.Gellius, his Hecuba is a clever translation likewise.

His favourite model was Euripides: nor is it surprising that he shouldhave been better able to appreciate the inferior excellencies of thisdramatic poet, when we remember that the birth of Latin literature wascoincident with the decay of that of Greece. Callimachus died just asLivius began to write.[161] Theocritus expired when Ennius wastwenty-five years old;[162] and by this decaying living literature histaste must have been partially educated and formed.

In comedy, as in tragedy, he never emancipated himself from the trammelsof the Greek originals. His comedies were _palliatæ_; and Terence whenaccused of plagiarism defends himself by an appeal to the example ofEnnius. Fragments are preserved of four only.

The poems which he wrote in various metres, and on miscellaneoussubjects, were, for that reason, entitled _Satiræ_ or _Saturæ_. Enniusdoes not, indeed, anticipate the claim of Lucilius to be considered thefather of Roman satire in its proper sense; but still there can belittle doubt that the scope of these minor poems was the chastisement ofvice. The degeneracy of Roman virtue, even in his days, provokedlanguage of Archilochian bitterness from so stern a moralist, althoughhe would not libellously attack those who were undeserving of censure.The salutation which he addresses to himself expresses the burningindignation which he felt against wickedness:—

 Enni poeta salve qui mortalibus _Versus_ propinas flammeos medullitus.

Amongst his minor works were epitaphs on Scipio and on himself, adidactic poem, entitled Epicharmus, a collection of moral precepts, anencomium on his friend Scipio Africanus, a translation in hexameters ofa poem on edible fishes and their localities, by Archestratus(Phagetica,) and a work entitled Asotus, the existence of which is onlyknown from its being mentioned by Varro and Festus for the sake ofetymological illustration; by some it is thought to have been a comedy.The idea that he was the author of a piece called “Sabinæ” is withoutfoundation.

Cicero[163] mentions a mythological work (Evemerus,) a translation introchaics of the Ἱερα Ἀναγραφη of the Sicilian writer who bore thatname. It was a work well adapted to the talent which Ennius possessed ofrelating mythical traditions, in the form of poetical history. Thetheory embodied in the original was one which is often adopted by Livyin his early history, and therefore most probably entered into theancient legends, namely, that the gods were originally mighty warriorsand benefactors of mankind, who, as their reward, were deified andworshipped.

 CHAPTER VII. THE NEW COMEDY OF THE GREEKS THE MODEL OF THE ROMAN—THE MORALITY OF ROMAN COMEDY—WANT OF VARIETY IN THE PLOTS OF ROMAN COMEDY—DRAMATIS PERSONÆ—COSTUME—CHARACTERS—MUSIC—LATIN PRONUNCIATION—METRICAL LICENSES—CRITICISM OF VOLCATIUS—LIFE OF PLAUTUS—CHARACTER OF HIS COMEDIES—ANALYSIS OF HIS PLOTS.

It has already been shown that the dramatic taste of the Romans firstdisplayed itself in the rudest species of comedy. The entertainment wasextemporaneous, and performed by amateurs, and rhythmical only so far asto be consistent with these conditions. It was satirical, personal, fullof burlesque extravagances, practical jokes, and licentious jesting.When it put on a more systematic form, by the introduction of music, andsinging, and dancing, and professional actors, still the Roman youthwould not give up their national amusement, and a marked distinction wasmade in the social and political condition of the actor and the amateur.Italian comedy made no further progress, but on it was engrafted theGreek comedy, and hence arose that phase of the drama, therepresentatives of which were Plautus, Cæcilius Statius, and Terence.

Now the old Attic comedy consisted of either political or literarycriticism. In Italy, however, the Fescennine verses, and the farces ofAtella, were not political, neither was there any literature tocriticise or to parody. But the personalities in which the people hadtaken pleasure prepared them to enjoy the comedy of manners, embodyingas it did pictures of social life. The new comedy, therefore, of theGreeks furnished a suitable model; and the comedies of Menander,Diphilus, Apollodorus, and others formed a rich mine of materials foradaptation or imitation.

From them the Roman poet could derive much more than the “vis comica,”in which Cæsar complained that they were still so deficient. In theextant fragments of Menander may be found powerful delineations of humanpassions, especially of the pains and pleasures of love, melancholy buttrue views of the vanity of human hopes, elevated moral sentiments, andnoble ideas of the divine nature. A vein of temperate and placidgentleness, intermingled with amiable pleasantry, pervaded the comediesof Philemon, and his sentiments are tender and serious, without beinggloomy. These good qualities recommended them to Chrysostom, Eustathius,and other early Christians, by whom so many of their fragments have beenpreserved.

There is no doubt that the comic, as well as the tragic poet of Greece,considered himself as a public instructor; but it is difficult to sayhow far the Roman author recognised a moral object, because it cannot bedetermined what moral sentiments were designedly introduced, and whatwere merely transcriptions from the original. It is plain, however, thatRoman comedy was calculated to produce a moral result, although themorality which it inculcated was extremely low: its standard was merelyworldly prudence, its lessons utilitarian, its philosophy, like that ofMenander himself, Epicurean, and therefore it did not inculcate anunbending sense of honour, the self-denying heroism of the Stoic school,or that rigid Roman virtue which was akin to it—it contented itself withencouraging the benevolent affections.

It did not profess to reform the knave, except by showing him thatknavery was not always successful. It taught that cunning must be metwith its own weapons, and that the qualities necessary for the conflictwere wit and sharpness. The union between the moral and the comicelement was exhibited in making intrigue successful wherever the victimwas deserving of it, and in representing him as foiled by accidents andcross-purposes, because the prudence and caution of the knave are notalways on a par with his cunning. It also had its sentimental side, andthe sympathies of the audience were enlisted in favour of good temper,affection, and generosity.

But the new Attic comedy presented a truthful portraiture of real nativelife. This was scarcely ever the case with the Romans; the plots,characters, localities, and political institutions, were all Greek, andtherefore it can only be said that the whole was in perfect harmony andconsistency with Roman modes of thinking and acting. The comedies ofPlautus probably, as will be seen hereafter, form the only exception.

It cannot be denied that there is a want of variety in the plots ofRoman comedy;[164] but this defect is owing to the political and socialcondition of ancient Greece. Greece and the neighbouring countries weredivided into numerous independent states; its narrow seas were, evenmore than they are now, infested with pirates, who had their nests andlurking-places in the various unfrequented coasts and islands; andslaves were an article of merchandise. Many a romantic incidenttherefore occurred, such as is found in comedy. A child would be stolen,sold as a slave, educated in all the accomplishments which would fit herto be an _Hetæra_, engage the affections of some young Athenian, andeventually, from some jewels or personal marks, be recognised by herparents, and restored to the rank of an Athenian citizen.

Again, in order to confine the privilege of citizenship, marriages withforeigners were invalid, and this restriction on marriage caused the_Hetæra_ to occupy so prominent a part in comedy; besides, love waslittle more than sensual passion, and marriage generally a matter ofconvenience: the Hetæræ, too, were often clever and accomplished, whilstthe virtuous matron was fitter for the duties of domestic life than forsociety. The regulations of the Greek theatre also, which were adoptedby the Romans, caused some restrictions upon the variety of plots. Incomedy the scene represented the public street, in which Greek femalesof good character did not usually appear unveiled: matrons, nurses, andwomen of light character alone are introduced upon the stage, and in allthe plays of Terence, except the Eunuch, the heroine is never seen.

As the range of subjects is small, so there is a sameness in thedramatis personæ: the principal characters are a morose andparsimonious, or a gentle and easy father, who is sometimes, also, thehenpecked husband of a rich wife, an affectionate or domineering wife, ayoung man who is frank and good-natured but profligate, a grasping orbenevolent Hetæra, a roguish servant, a fawning favourite, a hectoringcoward, an unscrupulous procuress, and a cold calculating slave-dealer.

The actors wore appropriate masks, sometimes partial, sometimes coveringthe whole face, the features of which were not only grotesque, but muchexaggerated and magnified. This was rendered absolutely necessary by theimmense size of the theatre, the stage of which sometimes measured sixtyyards, and which would contain many thousands of spectators; the mouth,also, answered the purpose of a sounding board, or speaking-trumpet toassist in conveying the voice to every part of the vast building. Thecharacters, too, were made known by a conventional costume: old men woreample robes of white; young men were attired in gay parti-colouredclothes; rich men in purple; soldiers in scarlet; poor men and slaves indark-coloured and scanty dresses.

The names assigned to the characters of the Roman comedy have always anappropriate meaning. Young men, for example, are Pamphilus, “dear toall;” Charinus, “gracious;” Phædria, “joyous:” old men are Simo,“flat-nosed,” such a physiognomy being considered indicative of across-grained disposition: Chremes, from a word signifying troubled withphlegm. Slaves generally bear the name of their native country, asSyrus, Phrygia; Davus, a Dacian; Byrrhia, a native of Pyrrha in Caria;Dorias, a Dorian girl; a vain-glorious soldier is Thraso, from θρασος,boldness; a parasite, Gnatho, from γναθος, the jaw; a nurse, Sophrona(discreet;) a freedman, Sosia, as having been spared in war; a younggirl is Glycerium, from γλυκυς, sweet; a judge is Crito; a courtesan,Chrysis, from χρυσος, gold. These examples will be sufficient toillustrate the practice adopted by the comic writers.

It is very difficult to understand the relation which music bore to theexhibition of Roman comedy. It is clear that there was always a musicalaccompaniment, and that the instruments used were flutes; the lyre wasonly used in tragedy, because in comedy there was no chorus or lyricportion. The flutes were at first small and simple; but in the time ofHorace were much larger and more powerful, as well as constructed withmore numerous stops and greater compass.[165]

Flutes were of two kinds. Those played with the right hand (tibiædextræ) were made of the upper part of the reed, and like the modernfife or octave flute emitted a high sound: they were therefore suitableto lively and cheerful melodies; and this kind of music, known by thename of the Lydian mode, was performed upon a pair of tibiæ dextræ. Theleft-handed flutes (tibiæ sinistræ) were pitched an octave lower: theirtones were grave and fit for solemn music. The mode denominated Tyrian,or Sarrane,[166] was executed with a pair of tibiæ sinistræ. If thesubject of the play was serio-comic, the music was in the Phrygian mode,and the flutes used were _impares_ (unequal,) _i. e._, one for theright, the other for the left hand.[167] In tragedy the lyrical portionwas sung to music and the dialogue declaimed. But if that were the casein comedy, it is difficult to imagine what corresponded to the lyricalportion, and therefore where music was used. Quintilian informs us thatscenic modulation was a simple, easy chant,[168] resembling probablyintonation in our cathedrals. Such a practice would aid the voiceconsiderably; and if so, the theory of Colman is probably correct, thatthere was throughout some accompaniment, but that the music arranged forthe soliloquies (in which Terence especially abounds) was more labouredand complicated than that of the dialogue.[169]

In order to understand the principles which regulated the Roman comicmetres, some remarks must be made on the manner in which the languageitself was affected by the common conversational pronunciation. In mostlanguages there is a natural tendency to abbreviation and contraction.As the object of language is the expression of thought, few are inclinedto take more trouble or to expend more time than is absolutely necessaryfor conveying their meaning: this attention to practical utility andconvenience is the reason for all elliptical forms in grammaticalconstructions, and also for all abbreviated methods of pronunciation byslurring or clipping, or, to use the language of grammarians, byapocope, syncope, synæresis, or crasis.

The experience of every one proves how different is the impression whichthe sound of a foreign language makes upon the ear, when spoken byanother, from what it makes upon the eye when read even by one who isperfectly acquainted with the theory of pronunciation. Until the ear ishabituated, it is easier for an Englishman to speak French than tounderstand it when spoken. If we consider attentively the manner inwhich we speak our own language, it is astonishing how many letters andeven syllables are slurred over and omitted: the accented syllable isstrongly and firmly enunciated, the rest, especially in long words, areleft to take care of themselves, and the experience of the hearer andhis acquaintance with the language find no difficulty in supplying thedeficiency. This is universally the case, except in careful anddeliberate reading, and in measured and stately declamation.

With regard to the classical languages, the foregoing observations holdgood; in a slighter degree, indeed, with respect to the Greek, for thedelicacy of their ear, their attention to accent and quantity, not onlyin poetry but in oratory, and even in conversation, caused them to givegreater effect to every syllable, and especially to the vowel sounds.But even in Greek poetry elision sometimes prevents the disagreeableeffect of a hiatus, and in the transition from the one dialect to theother, the numerous vowels of the Ionic assume the contracted form ofthe Attic.

The resemblance between the practice of the Romans and that of modernnations is very remarkable; with them the mark of good taste wasease—the absence of effort, pedantry, and affectation. As theyprincipally admired facility in versification, so they sought it inpronunciation likewise. To speak with mouthing (hiulce,) with a broadaccent (late, vaste,) was to speak like a clown and not like a gentleman(rustice et inurbaniter.) Cicero[170] admired the soft, gentle, equabletones of the female voice, and considered the pronunciation of theeloquent and cultivated Lælia as the model of purity and perfection: hethought that she spoke as Plautus or Nævius might have spoken. Again, hespeaks of the habit which Cotta had of omitting the iota; pronouncing,for example, dominus, dom’nus, as a prevalent fashion; and although hesays,[171] that such an _obscuration_ argues negligence, he, on theother hand, applies to the opposite fault a term (putidius) whichimplies the most offensive affectation. From these observations, we mustexpect to find that Latin as it was pronounced was very different fromLatin as it is written; that this difference consisted in abbreviationeither by the omission of sounds altogether, or by contraction of twosounds into one; and that these processes would take place especially inthose syllables which in poetry are not marked by the ictus or beat, orin common conversation by the stress or emphasis. Even in the moreartificial poetry and oratory of the Augustan age, in which quantity wasmore rigidly observed by the Roman imitators than by the Greekoriginals, we find traces of this tendency; and Virgil does not hesitateto use in his stately heroics such forms as aspris, for asperis,semustum for semiustum, oraclum for oraculum, maniplus for manipulus;and, like Terence, to make rejicere (rēīcĕrĕ) a dactyle.[172] A numberof the most common words, sanctioned by general usage, and incorporatedinto the language when in its most perfect state, were contractions—suchas amassent for amavissent, concio for conventio, cogo from con and ago,surgo from sub and rego, malla for maxilla, pomeridianus frompost-mediam-diem, and other instances too numerous to mention.

But in the earlier periods, when literature was addressed still more tothe ear than to the eye, when the Greek metres were as yet unknown, andeven when, after their introduction, exact observation of Greek ruleswas not yet necessary, we find, as might be expected, these principlesof the language carried still further. They pervade the poems of Liviusand Ennius, and the Roman tragedies, even although their style isnecessarily more declamatory than that of the comic writers; but in thelatter we have a complete representation of Latin as it was commonlypronounced and spoken, and but little trammelled or confined by a rigidadhesion to the Greek metrical laws. In the prologues, indeed, which areof the nature of declamation, and not of free and natural conversation,more care is visible; the iambic trimeters in which they are writtenfall upon the ear with a cadence similar to those of the Greek, withscarcely any license except an occasional spondee in the even places.But in the scenes little more seems to have been attended to, than thatthe verse should have the required number of feet, and the syllablespronounced the right quantity, in accordance with the widest licensewhich the rules of Greek prosody allowed. What syllables should beslurred, was left to be decided by the common custom of pronunciation.

Besides the licenses commonly met with in the poets of the Augustan age,the following mutilations are the most usual in the poetical language ofthe age of which we are treating:—

1. The final _s_ might be elided even before a consonant, and hence thepreceding vowel was made short: thus mălīs became mali, on the sameprinciple that in Augustan poetry aūdīsnĕ was contracted into audĭn’.Thus the short vowel would suffer elision before another, and thefollowing line of Terence would consequently be thus scanned:—

 Ut mă | līs gāŭ | dēat ălĭ | ēn’ ātq’. | ēx ĭn | cōmmö | dīs.

2. Vowels and even consonants were slurred over; hence Liberius becameLib’rius; Adolescens, Ad’lescens; Vehemens, Vemens; Voluptas, V’luptas(like the French voila, v’la;) meum, eum, suum, siet, fuit, Deos, ego,ille, tace, became monosyllables; and facio, sequere, &c., dissyllables.

3. _M_ and _D_ were syncopated in the middle of words: thus enimverobecame en’vero; quidem and modo qu’en and mo’o, circumventus,circ’ventus.

4. Conversely _d_ was added to me, te, and se, when followed by a vowel,as Reliquit med homo, &c., and in Plautus, med erga.

Observations of such principles as these enable us to reduce all themetres of Terence, and nearly all of Plautus, to iambic and trochaic,especially to iambic senarii and trochaic tetrameters. Many of thosewhich defy the attempt have become, by the injudicious treatment oftranscribers or commentators, wrongly arranged: for example, one of fourlines in the Andria of Terence, which has always proved a difficulty,might be thus arranged:—

 Innā | tă cuī | quām tānt’ | ūt siēt | vēcōr | dĭa;

instead of the usual unmanageable form—

 Tanta vecordia innata cuiquam ut siet. _Andr._ iv. 1.

Volcatius Sedigitus, a critic and grammarian, assigns an order of meritto the authors of Roman comedy in the following passage:—

 Multos incertos certare hanc rem vidimus Palmam poetæ comico cui deferant. Eum, me judice, errorem dissolvam tibi; Ut contra si quis sentiat, nihil sentiat. Cæcilio palmam Statio do comico. Plautus secundus facile exsuperat cæteros. Dein Nævius qui servet pretium, tertius est. Si erit, quod quarto dabitur Licinio. Post insequi Licinium facio Atilium. In sexto sequitur hos loco Terentius. Turpilius septimum, Trabea octavum obtinet; Nono loco esse facile facio Luscium. Decimum addo causa antiquitatis Ennium. _Volc. Sedig. ap. Gel._ lib. xv. 24.

However correct this judgment may be, Plautus is the oldest, if not themost celebrated of those who have not as yet been mentioned.

 PLAUTUS.

T. Maccius Plautus was a contemporary of Ennius, for it is generallysupposed that he was born twelve years later,[173] and died fifteenyears earlier[174] than the founder of the new school of Latin poetry.The flourishing period, therefore, of both coincide. He was a native ofSarsina, in Umbria, but was very young when he removed to Rome. Verylittle is known respecting his life; but it is universally admitted thathe was of humble origin, and owing to the prevalence of this traditionwe find _Plautinæ prosapiæ homo_, used as a proverbial expression. Thenumerous examples in his comedies of vulgar taste and low humour are infavour of this supposition.

He had no early gentlemanlike associations to interfere with hisdelineations of Roman character in low life. His contemporary, Ennius,was a gentleman; Plautus was not: education did not overcome hisvulgarity, although it produced a great effect upon his language andstyle, which were more refined and cultivated than those of hispredecessors. Plautus must have lived and associated with the classwhose manners he describes; hence his pictures are correct and truthful.

The class from which his representations of Roman life was taken is thatof the _ærarii_, who consisted of clients, the sons of freedmen, and thehalf-enfranchised natives of Italian towns. His plots are Greek, hispersonages Greek, and the scene is laid in Greece and her colonies; butthe morality, manners, sentiments, wit, and humour, were those of thatmixed, half-foreign, class of the inhabitants of the capital, whichstood between the slave and the free-born citizen. One of his charactersis, as was observed by Niebuhr,[175] not Roman, for the parasite is aGreek, not a Roman character; but then a flatterer is by profession acitizen of the world, and his business is to conform himself to themanners of every society. How readily that character became naturalized,we are informed by some of the most amusing passages in the satires ofHorace and Juvenal.

The humble occupation which his poverty compelled him to follow wascalculated to draw out and foster the comic talent for which he wasafterwards distinguished, for Varro[176] tells us that he acted as astage-carpenter (_operarius_) to a theatrical company; he adds, also,that he was subsequently engaged in some trade in which he wasunsuccessful, and was reduced to the necessity of earning his dailybread by grinding in a mill. To this degrading labour, which was notusually performed by men, except as a punishment for refractory slaves,it has been supposed that he owed his cognomen, Asinius, which issometimes appended to his other names. Ritzschl, however, has mostingeniously and satisfactorily proved that the name of Asinius is acorruption of Sarsinas (native of Sarsina:) he supposes that Sarsinasbecame Arsinas, that this was afterwards written Arsin, then Asin, andthat this was finally considered as the representative of Asinius.

This view is further supported by the fact that, in all cases in whichthe name Asinius is used, the poet is called not Asinius Plautus, butPlautus Asinius, like Livius Patavinus, this being the proper positionfor the ethnic name. Another error respecting the poet’s name has beenperpetuated throughout all the editions of his works, although it is notfound in any manuscript. It was discovered by Ritzschl[177] whilstexamining the palimpsest MS. in the Ambrosian Library at Milan. He thusfound that his real names were Titus Maccius, and not Marcus Accius. Thename Plautus was given him because he had flat feet, this being thesignification of the word in the Umbrian language. Niebuhr,[178]although he does not deny his poverty, gives no credit to the story ofhis working at a mill.

The earliest comedies which he wrote are said to have been entitled“Addictus,” and “Saturio,” but they are not contained amongst the twentywhich are now extant. As soon as he became an author there can be nodoubt that he emerged from his state of poverty and obscurity, for hehad no rival during his whole career, unless Cæcilius Statius, a man ofvery inferior talent, can be considered one. Comedies began now to be ingreat demand: the taste for the comic drama was awakened; it wasprecisely the sort of literature likely to be acceptable to an active,bustling, observant people like the Romans. They liked shows of everykind, and public speaking, and had always their eyes and their earsopen, loved jokes and rude satire and boisterous mirth, and wouldappreciate bold and fearless delineations of character, which they metwith in their every-day life. The demand for the public games,therefore, began to be quite as great as the supply, and the theatricalmanagers would take care always to have a new play in rehearsal, in casethey should be called upon for a public representation.

Plautus had no aristocratic patrons, like Ennius and Terence—probablyhis humour was too broad, and his taste not refined enough, to pleasethe Scipios and Lælii, and their fastidious associates. Horace findsfault with Plautus because his wit was not sufficiently gentlemanlike,as well as his numbers not sufficiently harmonious. Probably the higherclasses might have observed similar deficiencies; with the masses,however, the comedies of Plautus, notwithstanding their faults, retainedtheir original popularity even in the Augustan age. The Roman publicwere his patrons. His very coarseness would recommend him to the rudeadmirers of the Fescennine songs and the Atellan _Fabulæ_. His carelessprosody and inharmonious verses would either escape the not over-refinedears of his audience, or be forgiven for the sake of the fun which theycontained. Life, bustle, surprise, unexpected situations, sharp,sprightly, brilliant, sparkling raillery, that knew no restraint norbounds, carried the audience with him. He allowed no respite, no timefor dulness or weariness. To use an expression of Horace, he hurried onfrom scene to scene, from incident to incident, from jest to jest, sothat his auditors had no opportunity for feeling fatigue.

Another cause of his popularity was, that although Greek was thefountain from which he drew his stores, and the metres of Greek poetrythe framework in which he set them, his wit, his mode of thought, hislanguage, were purely Roman. He had lived so long amongst Romans that hehad caught their national spirit, and this spirit was reflectedthroughout his comedies. The incidents of them might have taken place inthe streets of Rome, so skilful was he in investing them with a Romandress.

His style too was truly Latin, and Latin of the very purest and mostelegant kind.[179] He did not, like Cato and Ennius, carry hisadmiration for Greek so far as to “enrich” his native tongue with newand foreign words. Nor would this feature be without some effect ingaining him the sympathy of the masses. They admire elegance of languageif it is elegant simplicity. They appreciate well-chosen andwell-arranged sentences, if the words are such as fall familiarly, and,therefore, intelligibly on their ears.

The coarseness of Plautus, however, was the coarseness of innuendo, andeven if the allusion was indelicate, it was veiled in decent language.This quality of his wit called forth the approbation of Cicero.[180] Butit is difficult to conceive how he could compare him, in thisparticular, with the old Athenian comedy, the obscenity of which is sogross and palpable, as to constitute the sole blemish of thosedelightful compositions.

The following laudatory epigram written by Varro is found in the NoctesAtticæ of A. Gellius:[181]—

 Postquam est mortem aptus Plautus, comœdia luget, Scena est deserta dein risus ludu, jocusque, Et numeri innumeri simul omnes collacrumarunt.

The same grammarian paid to his style a compliment similar to that whichhad been paid to Plato, by saying, that if the Muses spoke in Latin theywould borrow the language of Plautus.[182] Whatever might have been thefaults of the Plautian comedy, it maintained its position on the Romanstage for at least five centuries, and was acted as late as the reign ofDioclesian.

It does not appear that Plautus ever attained the full privileges of aRoman citizen. Probably he had no powerful friends to press his claims,and therefore enjoyed no more than the Italian franchise to the end ofhis days. No fewer than one hundred and thirty comedies have beenattributed to him, but of these many were spurious. Varro considers thetwenty which are now extant genuine, together with the Vidularia, ofwhich only a few lines remain, and those only in the palimpsest MS.already mentioned. The rest, the titles of which alone survive, are ofdoubtful authority.

All the comedies of Plautus, except the _Amphitruo_, were adapted fromthe new comedy of the Greeks. The statement that he imitated theSicilian Epicharmus,[183] and founded the _Menæchmi_ on one of hiscomedies, rests only on a vague tradition. There can be no doubt that hestudied also both the old and the middle comedy; but still Menander,Diphilus, and Philemon furnished him the originals of his plots. Thepopularity of Plautus was not confined to Rome, either republican orimperial. Dramatic writers of modern times have recognised theeffectiveness of his plots, and, therefore, have adopted or imitatedthem, and they have been translated into most of the European languages.

The following is a brief sketch of the subjects of his extant comedies.

I. Amphitruo. This is the only piece which Plautus borrowed from themiddle Attic comedy; the plot is founded on the well-known story ofJupiter and Alcmena, and has been imitated both by Molière and Dryden.

II., III., IV. The Asinaria, Casina, and Mercator, depict a state ofmorals so revolting that it is impossible to dwell upon them.

V. In the Aulularia, a very amusing play, a miser finds a pot of gold(aulula,) and hides it with the greatest care. His daughter is demandedin marriage by an old man named Megadorus, the principal recommendationto whose suit is, that he is willing to take her without a dowry.Meanwhile the slave of her young lover steals the gold, and, as may beconjectured, for no more of the play is preserved, the lover restoresthe gold, and the old man, in the joy of his heart, gives him hisdaughter.

This comedy suggested to Molière the plot of L’Avare, the best playwhich he ever wrote, and one in which he far surpasses the original. Twoattempts have been made to supply the lost scenes, which may be found inthe Delphin and Variorum edition.

VI. The Bacchides are two twin sisters, one of whom is beloved by hersister’s lover. He does not know that there are two, and, misled by thesimilarity of the name, thinks himself betrayed. Hence arise amusingsituations and incidents, but at length an éclaircissement takes place.

VII. The Captivi, for its style, sentiments, moral, and the structure ofthe plot, is incomparably the best comedy of Plautus. In a war betweenthe Ætolians and Eleians, Philopolemus, an Ætolian, the son of Hegio, istaken prisoner, whilst Philocrates is captured by the Ætolians.Philocrates and his slave Tyndarus are purchased by Hegio, with a viewto recover his son by an exchange of prisoners. The master and slave,however, agree to change places; and thus Philocrates is sent back tohis country, valued only as a slave. Hegio discovers the trick, andcondemns Tyndarus to fetters and hard labour. Philocrates, however,returns, and brings back Philopolemus with him, and it also turns outthat Tyndarus is a son of Hegio whom he had lost in his infancy.

VIII. The Curculio derives its name from a parasite, who is the hero,and who acts his part in a plot full of fraud and forgery; the onlysatisfactory point in the comedy being the deserved punishment of aninfamous pander.

IX. In the Cistellaria, Demipho, a Lemnian, promises his daughter toAlcesimarchus, who is in love with Silenium. The young lady has falleninto the hands of a courtesan, who endeavours to force her into avicious course of life; she, however, steadily refuses; and it is atlength discovered, by means of a box of toys (cistella,) that she is theillegitimate daughter of Demipho, and had been exposed as an infant. Hervirtue is rewarded by her being happily married to her lover.

X. The Epidicus was evidently a favourite play with the author, for hemakes one of the characters in another comedy say that he loves it asdearly as himself.[184] The plot turns on the common story of a lostchild recognised. The intrigue, which is remarkably clever, is managedby Epidicus, a cunning slave, who gives the name to the play.

XI. The Mostellaria is exceedingly lively and amusing. A young man, inhis father’s absence, makes the paternal mansion a scene of noisy andextravagant revelry. In the midst of it the father returns, and in orderto prevent discovery, a slave persuades him that the house is haunted.When he discovers the trick he is very angry, but ultimately pardonsboth his son and the slave. The name is derived from Mostellum, thediminutive of Monstrum, a prodigy, or supernatural visitor.

XII. The Menæchmi is a Comedy of Errors, arising out of the exactlikeness between two brothers, one of whom was stolen in infancy, andthe other wanders in search of him, and at last finds him in greataffluence at Epidamnus. It furnished the plot to Shakspeare’s play, andlikewise to the comedy of Regnard, which bears the name of the original.

XIII. The Miles Gloriosus was taken from the Ἀλαζων (Boaster) of theGreek comic drama. Its hero, Pyrgopolinices, is the model of all theblustering, swaggering captains of ancient and modern comedy. Thebraggadocio carries off the mistress of a young Athenian, who followshim, and takes up his abode in the next house to that in which the girlis concealed. Like Pyramus and Thisbe the lovers have secret interviewsthrough a hole in the party-wall. (The device being borrowed from the“Phantom” of Menander.)[185] When they are discovered, the soldier isinduced to resign the lady by being persuaded that another isdesperately in love with him, but the only reward which he gets is agood beating for his pains.

XIV. In the Pseudolus, a cunning slave of that name procures, by a falsememorandum, a female slave for his young master; and when the fraud isdiscovered the matter is settled by the payment of the price by acomplaisant father. Notwithstanding the simplicity of the plot, theaction is bustling and full of intrigue; and from a passage ofCicero,[186] it appears that this play and Truculentus were favouriteswith the author himself. The procurer in this comedy was one of thecharacters in which Roscius especially excelled.

XV. The Pœnulus derives its name from its romantic plot. A youngCarthaginian slave is adopted by an old bachelor, who leaves him a goodinheritance. He falls in love with a girl, a Carthaginian like himself,who had been kidnapped with her sister, and now belonged to a procurer.The arrival of the father leads to a discovery that they are free-born,and that they are the first cousins of the young man. Thus it comes topass that the girls are rescued, and the lovers united. The most curiousportion of this comedy is that in which Hanno, the father, isrepresented as talking Punic;[187] and his words bear so close aresemblance to the Hebrew that commentators have expressed them inHebrew characters, and rendered them, after a few emendations, capableof translation.[188]

XVI. The tricks played upon a procurer by a slave, aided by a Persianparasite, furnish the slender plot of the Persa.

XVII. The Rudens derives its name from the rope of a fishing-net, and,with the exception perhaps of the Captivi, is the most affecting andpleasing of all the twenty plays. The morality is pure, the sentimentselevated, the poetic justice complete. A female child has fallen intothe hands of a procurer. Her lover in vain endeavours to ransom her, andbeing shipwrecked, the toys with which she played in infancy are lost inthe waves, but are eventually brought to shore by the net of afisherman. She is thus recognised by her father, and is married to herlover, whilst the procurer is utterly ruined by the loss of his propertyin the wreck.

XVIII. Stichus is the name of the slave on whom the intrigue of the playwhich bears this name mainly depends. The plot is very simple. Twobrothers marry two sisters, and are ruined by extravagant living; theydetermine therefore to go abroad and repair their fortunes. After theyhave been many years absent the ladies’ father wishes them to marryagain. They, however, steadily refuse, and their constancy is rewardedby the return of their husbands with large fortunes.

XIX. The Trinummus is a translation from the Thesaurus of the Greekcomic poet Philemon.[189] It derived its Latin title from the incidentof the informer being bribed with three _nummi_.[190] An old merchant onleaving home places his son and daughter, together with a treasure whichhe has buried in his house, under the guardianship of his friendCallicles. The son squanders his father’s property, and is even forcedto sell his house, which Callicles purchases. Soon a young man of goodfamily and fortune makes proposals for the daughter’s hand, andCallicles is at a loss to know how to give her a dowry without sayingsomething about the treasure. At length he hires a man to pretend thathe has come from the absent father, and has brought one thousand piecesof gold. The return of the father interferes with the plan; buteverything is explained, the daughter is married, and the son forgiven.

XX. The Truculentus, although the moral picture which it presents isdetestable, is remarkably clever, both for the variety of incidents andthe graphic delineations of character which it contains. The artfulcourtesan who dupes and ruins her lovers; the three loversthemselves—one a man of the town, another an unpolished but generousrustic, the third a stupid and conceited soldier; and, lastly, theslave, whose rude sagacity and bluff hatred of courtesans expose him tothe imputation of being actually savage (truculentus,) are powerfullydrawn; but notwithstanding its merits, it is not a play which canpossibly please the tastes and sentiments of modern times.

Plautus must not be dismissed without some notice of his prologues. Theprologue of the Greek drama prepared the audience for the action of theplay, by narrating all the previous events of the story which werenecessary in order to understand the plot. That of the modern stage isan address of the poet to the spectators, praying for indulgence,deprecating severe criticism, enlivened frequently by characteristicsketches and satirical observations on the manners and habits of theage. In these features it sometimes resembles the parabasis of the oldAttic comedy. The prologues of Plautus united all these objects; andwhilst they introduced the comedy, their amusing gayety was calculatedto put the audience in good humour and secure their applause. The shrewdknowledge which the author displayed in them of the character of hisfellow-countrymen claimed their sympathies, and called forth theirprejudices in his favour; whilst their polish and finish must have beenappreciated by an assembly whose attention had not begun to flag or toweary. Some are long pieces. That of the Amphitruo, which is thelongest, extends to upwards of one hundred and fifty lines. That of theTrinummus takes the unusual form of a brief allegorical dialogue betweenLuxury and her daughter Poverty.

 CHAPTER VII.

STATIUS COMPARED WITH MENANDER—CRITICISM OF CICERO—HYPOTHESES RESPECTINGTHE EARLY LIFE OF TERENCE—ANECDOTE BELATED BY DONATUS—STYLE AND MORALITY

 OF TERENCE—ANECDOTE OF HIM RELATED BY CORNELIUS NEPOS—HIS PECUNIARY CIRCUMSTANCES AND DEATH—PLOTS AND CRITICISM OF HIS COMEDIES—THE REMAINING COMIC POETS.

 CÆCILIUS STATIUS.

Between Plautus and Terence flourished Cæcilius Statius, whom Volcatius,as well as Cicero,[191] places at the head of the list of Roman comicpoets. He was an emancipated slave, and was born at Milan. The time ofhis birth is unknown, but he died A. U. C. 586, and was therefore acontemporary of Ennius. He did not depart from the established custom oftransferring the comedy of the Greek stage to that of Rome, and as faras a judgment can be formed from the titles of his forty-five comedieswhich are extant, they were all “_Palliatæ_.” The collection offragments remaining of his works is a large one, but they are notsufficiently long or connected to test the favourable opinionentertained by the critics of ancient times.

Aulus Gellius[192] enables us to estimate the powers of C. Statius as atranslator by a comparison of two passages taken from his “Plocius” withthe original of Menander. The result is, that the usual fault oftranslations is too plainly manifest, namely, the loss of the spirit andvigour. “Our comedies,” he remarks, “are written in an elegant andgraceful style, and may be read with pleasure; but if compared with theGreek originals, they fall so far short that the arms of Glaucus couldnot have been more inferior to those of Diomede: the Greek is full ofemotion, wit, and liveliness; the Latin dull and uninteresting.” Cicero,likewise, and Varro have pronounced judgment upon his merits anddemerits. The sum and substance of their criticisms appear to be thathis excellencies consisted in the conduct of the plot,[193]dignity,[194] and in pathos,[195] whilst his fault was not sufficientcare in preserving the purity of the Latin style.

Cicero,[196] though not without hesitation, assigns the palm to himamongst the writers of Latin comedy, as he awards that of epic poetry toEnnius, and that of tragedy to Pacuvius.[196] He says, on the otherhand,[197] that the bad Latin of Cæcilius and Pacuvius formed exceptionsto the usual style of their age, which was as commendable for itsLatinity as for its innocence. And in a letter to Atticus,[198] hewrites:—“I said, not as Cæcilius, _Mane ut ex portu in Piræum_, but asTerence, whose plays, on account of their elegant Latinity, were thoughtto have been written by C. Lælius, Heri aliquot adolescentuli coimus inPiræum.” Horace,[199] without stating his own opinion, gives, as thatcommonly received in his day, that Cæcilius is superior in dignity(_gravitate_,) Terence in skill (_arte_.)

The prologue of Terence’s comedy of the Hecyra proves that the earlierplays of Cæcilius had a great struggle to achieve success. The actor whodelivers it, an old favourite with the public, and probably the manager,apologizes for bringing forward a play which had been once rejected(_exacta_,) on the ground that by perseverance in a similar course hehad caused the reception and approval of not one but many of thecomedies of Cæcilius which had been unsuccessful, and adds, that ofthose which did succeed, some had a narrow escape.

 P. TERENTIUS AFER.

P. Terentius Afer was a slave in the family of a Roman senator, P.Terentius Lucanus. His early history is involved in obscurity, but he isgenerally supposed to have been born A. U. C. 561.[200] His cognomen,Afer, points to an African origin, for it was a common custom todistinguish slaves by an ethnical name. Whether there is any sufficientauthority for the tradition that he was a native of Carthage isuncertain. He could not, as was rightly observed by Fenestella,[201]have been actually a prisoner of war, because he was both born and diedin the interval between the first and second Punic Wars; nor, if he hadbeen captured by the Numidians or Gætulians in any war which thesetribes carried on with Carthage, could he have come into the possessionof a Roman general by purchase, for there was no commercial intercoursebetween these nations and Rome until after the destruction of Carthage.

Another hypothesis has been suggested, which is by no meansimprobable.[202] During the interval which elapsed between the first andsecond Punic Wars, the Carthaginians were involved in wars with theirown mercenaries, the Numidians, and the southern Iberians. Someembassies from Rome also visited Carthage. Terence, therefore, maypossibly have been taken prisoner in one of these wars, have beenpurchased by a Roman in the Carthaginian slave-market, and so have beencarried to Rome. What his condition was in the house of Lucanus is notknown; but it is clear that he had opportunities of cultivating hisnatural talents, and acquiring that refined and masterly acquaintancewith all the niceties and elegancies of the Latin language which hiscomedies exhibited, and it is probable, also, that very early in life heobtained his freedom.

His first essay as a dramatic author was the “Andrian,” perhaps themost interesting, certainly the most affecting of all his comedies.Terence, an unknown and obscure young man, offered his play to theCurule Ædiles. They, accordingly, we are told, referred the newcandidate to the experienced judgment of Cæcilius Statius, then at theheight of his popularity. Terence, in humble garb, was introduced tothe poet whilst he was at supper, and seated on a low stool near thecouch on which Cæcilius was reclining, he commenced reading. He hadfinished but a few lines when Cæcilius invited him to sit by him andsup with him. He rapidly ran through the rest of his play, and gainedthe unqualified admiration of his hearer. This story is related byDonatus, but whether there is any truth in it is very doubtful. It is,at any rate, certain that “The Andrian” was not brought forwardimmediately after obtaining this decision in its favour, for the dateof its first representation[203] is two years subsequent to the deathof Cæcilius.

Talents of so popular a kind as those of Terence, and a geniuspresenting the rare combination of all the fine and delicate toucheswhich characterize true Attic sentiment, without corrupting the nativeingenuous purity of the Latin language, could not long remain inobscurity. He was soon eagerly sought for as a guest and a companion bythose who could appreciate his powers. The great Roman nobility, such asthe Scipiones, the Lælii, the Scavolæ, and the Metelli, had a taste forliterature. Like the _Tyranni_ in Sicily and Greece, and like some ofthe Italian princes in the middle ages, they assembled around themcircles of literary men, of whom the polite and hospitable host himselfformed the nucleus and centre.

The purity and gracefulness of the style of Terence, “_per quam dulcesLatini leporis facetiæ nituerunt_,”[204] show that the conversation ofhis accomplished friends was not lost upon his correct ear and quickintuition. To these habits of good society may also be attributed theleading moral characteristics of his comedies. He invariably exhibitsthe humanity and benevolence of a cultivated mind. He cannot bearloathsome and disgusting vice: he deters the young from the unlawfulindulgence of their passions by painting such indulgence as inconsistentwith the refined habits and tastes of a gentleman.

His truthfulness compels him to depict habits and practices which wererecognised and allowed, as well by the manners of the Athenians, fromwhom his comedies were taken, as by the lax morality of Romanfashionable society. Nor can we expect from a heathen writer of comedyso high a tone of morality as to lash vice with the severe censure whichthe Christian feels it deserves, however venial society may pronounce itto be. It is as much as can be hoped for, if we find the principles ofgood taste brought forward on the stage to influence public morals. Eventhe code of Christian society too often contents itself with rebukingsuch vice as interferes with its own comfort or safety, and stigmatizesconduct, not for its immorality, but for its being unbecoming agentleman. It is a standard which has its use, but it is not higher thanthe Terentian.

And if the plays of Terence are compared with those of authorsprofessing to be Christians, which form part of the classical literatureof the English nation, and were unblushingly witnessed on theirrepresentation by some of both sexes, who, nevertheless, professed aregard for character, how immeasurably superior are the comedies of theheathen poet! Point out to the young the greater light and knowledgewhich the Christian enjoys, and the plays of Terence may be read withoutmoral danger. No amount of colouring and caution would be sufficient toshield the mind of an ingenuous youth from the imminent peril of beingcorrupted by those of Wycherly and Congreve. Pictures of Roman mannersmust represent them as corrupt, or they would not be truthful; but oftena good lesson is elicited from them. When the deceived wifereproachfully asks her offending husband with what face he can rebukehis son because he has a mistress when he himself has two wives,[205]one is far more struck with the honour which the strictness of Romanvirtue paid to the nuptial tie, than offended at the lenient view whichis taken of the young man’s fault. The knaveries and tricks ofDavus[206] meet with sufficient poetical justice in his fright and hisflogging. The very dress in which the Meretrix, or woman of abandonedmorals, was costumed, kept constantly before the eyes of the Roman youththeir grasping avarice, and therefore warned them of the ruin whichawaited their victims; and the well-known passage,[207] in which theloathsome habits of this class are described, must have been, as Terencehimself says, a preservative of youthful virtue:—

 Nosse omnia hæc saluti est adolescentulis.

The Pander, who basely, for the sake of filthy lucre, ministers to thepassions of the young, is represented as the most degraded andcontemptible of mortals. The Parasite, who earns his meal by flatteringand fawning on his rich patron, is made the butt of unsparing ridicule.And the timid, simple maiden, confiding too implicitly in the affectionsof her lover, and sacrificing her interests to that love, and not tolust or love of gain, is painted in such colours as to command thespectator’s pity and sympathy, and to call forth his approbation whenshe is deservedly reinstated in her position as an honourable matron.Lastly, her lover is not represented as a profligate, revelling in theindiscriminate indulgence of his passions, and rendering vice seductiveby engaging manners and fascinating qualities: but we feel that his sinnecessarily results from the absence of a high tone of public moralityto protect the young against temptation; and in all cases the realityand permanency of his affection for the victim of his wrongdoing isproved by his readiness and anxiety to become her husband.

So far as it can be so, comedy was in the hands of Terence an instrumentof moral teaching, for it can only be so indirectly by painting men andmanners as they are, and not as they ought to be.

It is said that the patrons of Terence assisted him in the compositionof his comedies, or, at least, corrected their language and style, andembellished them by the insertion of scenes and passages. An anecdote isrelated by Cornelius Nepos,[208] which, if true, at once proves thepoint. He says that Lælius was at his villa near Puteoli during thefestival of the Matronalia. On this holiday the power of the Romanladies was absolute. Lælius was ordered by his wife to come to supperearly. He excused himself on the ground that he was occupied, and beggednot to be disturbed. When he appeared in the supper-room, he said he hadnever been so well satisfied with his compositions. He was asked for aspecimen of what he had written, and immediately repeated a scene in the“Self-Tormentor”[209] of Terence. Terence, however, gently refutes thisstory in the prologue to the “Adelphi,” and gives it a positivecontradiction in the prologue to the comedy in which the passage occurs.Perhaps he may at first have permitted the report to be credited for thesake of paying a compliment to his patron.

There is a tradition that he lived and died in poverty, and this tale isperpetuated in the following lines by Porcius Licinius:——

 Nil Publius Scipio profuit, nihil ei Lælius, nil Furius, Tres per idem tempus qui agitabant nobiles facillume, Eorum ille opere ne domum quidem habuit conductitium Saltem ut esset quo referret obitum domini servulus.

 Nothing did Publius Scipio profit him; Nothing did Lælius, nothing Furius; At once the three great patrons of our bard. And yet so niggard of their bounty to him, He had not even wherewithal to hire A house in Rome to which a faithful slave Might bring the tidings of his master’s death. _Colman._

The patrons of Terence, however, never deserved the reproach ofmeanness. Nor could the comic poet have been very poor. He receivedlarge sums for his comedies; he had funds sufficient to reside for sometime in Greece; and at his death he possessed gardens on the Appian Waytwenty jugera in extent.

A mystery hangs over his death, which took place B. C. 158.[210] It isnot known whether he died in Greece, or was lost at sea, together withall the comedies of Menander, which he had translated whilst in Greece,or whether, after embarking for Asia, he was, as Volcatius writes, neverseen more:——

 Ut Afer sex populo edidit comœdias Iter hinc in Asiam fecit, navim cum semel Conscendit visus nunquam est. Sic vitâ vacat.

One daughter married to a Roman knight survived him.

Six comedies by Terence remain, and it is probable that these are allthat he ever wrote; they belong to the class technically denominated_Palliatæ_.

 “_The Andrian._”

“The Andrian” was exhibited at the Magalensian games, A. U. C. 588,[211]when the poet was in his twenty-seventh year. The musical accompanimentwas performed on equal flutes, right-handed and left-handed (_tibiisparibus dextris et sinistris_;) _i. e._, as the action was of aserio-comic character, the lively music of the _tibiæ dextræ_ was usedin the comic scenes; the solemn sounds of the _tibiæ sinistræ_accompanied the serious portion. The manners are Greek, and the scene islaid at Athens.

The plot is as follows:—Glycerium, a young Athenian girl, is placedunder the care of an Andrian, who educates her with his daughterChrysis. On his death Chrysis migrates to Athens, taking Glycerium withher as her sister, and is driven by distress to become a courtesan.Pamphilus, the son of Simo, falls in love with Glycerium, and promisesher marriage. Simo accidentally discovers his son’s attachment in thefollowing manner:—Chrysis dies, and at her funeral Glycerium imprudentlyapproaches too near to the burning pile. Her lover rushes forward andembraces her, and affectionately expostulates with her for thus riskingher life. “Dearest Glycerium!” he exclaims, “what are you doing? Why doyou rush to destruction?” Upon this the girl burst into a flood oftears, and threw herself into his arms. Simo had meanwhile betrothedPamphilus to Philumena, the daughter of Chremes; and although he haddiscovered his son’s passion, and Chremes had heard of the promise ofmarriage, he pretends that the marriage with Philumena shall still takeplace, in order that he may discover what his son’s real sentiments are.In this difficulty, Pamphilus applies to Davus, a cunning and cleverslave, who advises him to offer no opposition. At this crisis Glyceriumis delivered of a child, which Davus causes to be laid at the door ofSimo. Chremes sees the infant, and, understanding that Pamphilus is thefather, refuses to give him his daughter. The opportune arrival ofCrito, an Andrian, discovers to Chremes that Glycerium is his owndaughter, whom on a former absence from Athens he had intrusted to hisbrother Phania, now dead. Consequently Glycerium is married toPamphilus, and Philumena is given to a young lover, named Charinus, whohad hitherto pressed his suit in vain.

“The Andrian” was, as it deserved to be, eminently successful, andencouraged the young author to persevere in the career which he hadchosen. The interest is well sustained, the action is natural, and manyscenes touching and pathetic, whilst the serious parts are skilfullyrelieved by the adroitness of Davus, and his cleverness in getting outof the scrapes in which his cunning involves him. Cicero[212] praisesthe funeral scene[213] as an example of that talent for narrative whichTerence constantly displays. The substance of his criticism is, that thepoet has attained conciseness without the sacrifice of beauty; andwhilst he has avoided wearisome affectation, has not omitted any detailswhich are agreeable and interesting. Nothing can be more beautiful thanthe struggle between the love and filial duty of Pamphilus,[214] whichends with his determination to yield to his father’s will; nothing morecandid than his confession, or more upright than his earnest desire notto be suspected of suborning Crito.

“The Andrian” has been closely imitated in the comedy of “The ConsciousLovers,” by Sir Richard Steele; but in natural and graceful wit, as wellas ingenuity, the English play is far inferior to the Roman original.

 “_Eunuchus._”

“The Eunuch” is a transcript of a comedy by Menander. Even thecharacters are the same, except that Gnatho and Thraso together occupythe place of Colax (the flatterer) in the original Greek. It wasrepresented in the consulship of M. Valerius Messala and C. FanniusStrabo.[215] The musical accompaniment was Lydian. It was the mostpopular of all Terence’s plays, and brought the author the largest sumof money that had ever been paid for a comedy previously, namely, 8,000sestertii, a sum equivalent to about 65_l._ sterling. In vain Lavinius,Terence’s most bitter rival, endeavoured to interrupt the performance,and to accuse the author of plagiarism. His defence was perfectlysuccessful, and Suetonius states[216] that it was called for twice inone day.

“The Eunuch” is not equal to some of Terence’s plays in wit and humour;but the plot is bustling and animated, and the dialogue gay andsparkling: it is also unquestionably the best acting play of the whole.There is no play in which there is a greater individuality of character,or more effect of histrionic contrast. The lovesick and somewhateffeminate Phædria contrasts well with the ardent and passionate Chærea,the swaggering, bullying Thraso with the pompous, philosophicalparasite, who proposes to found a Gnathonic School. Parmeno is quite ascrafty, but far more clever, than Davus, and his description of theevils of love is the perfection of shrewd wisdom.

The plot is as follows:—Pamphila, the daughter of an Athenian citizen,was kidnapped in her infancy, and sold to a Rhodian. He gave her to acourtesan, who educated her with her own daughter Thais. SubsequentlyThais removes to Athens; and on the mother’s death Pamphila is sold to asoldier, named Thraso. The soldier, being in love with Thais, resolvesto make her a present of his purchase; but Thais has got another lover,Phædria, and Thraso refuses to give Pamphila to Thais unless Phædria isfirst turned off. She, thinking that she has discovered Pamphila’srelations, and anxious to restore her to them, persuades Phædria toabsent himself for two days, in order that Thraso may present her withthe maiden. Meanwhile Chærea, Phædria’s younger brother, sees Pamphilaaccidentally, and falls desperately in love with her. He, therefore,persuades his brother’s slave, Parmeno, to introduce him into Thais’house in the disguise of a eunuch, whom Phædria has intrusted him toconvey to her during his absence. This leads to an _éclaircissement_.Pamphila is discovered to be an Athenian citizen, and her brotherChremes gives her in marriage to Chærea.

The most skilful part of this play is the method by which Terence hasconnected the underplot between Parmeno and Pythias, the waiting-maid ofThais, with the main action, their quarrels being entirely instrumentalin bringing about the _dénouement_. Of all the comedies of Terence, themoral tone of this is the lowest and most degrading. The connivance ofLaches the father of Chærea, at his son’s illicit amour with Thais,presents a sad picture of moral corruption, as the arrangement coollymade between Phædria and Gnatho[217] displays the meanness, whichevidently was not considered inconsistent with the habits of Romansociety.

Grievous as are these blemishes, this comedy must always be a favourite.There are in it passages of which the lapse of ages has not diminishedthe pungency: take, for example, the quiet satire contained in thecontrast which Chærea draws between the healthful and natural beauty ofhis mistress and the “every-day forms of which his eyes are weary:”—

CH. Haud similis virgo est virginum nostrarum; quas matres student Demissis humeris esse, vincto pectore, ut graciles sient; Si qua est habitior paulo, pugilem esse aiunt; deducunt cibum, Tametsi bona est natura, reddunt curatura junceas: Itaque ergo amantur.

PA. Quid tua istæc.

CH. Nova figura oris.

PA. Papæ!

CH. Color verus, corpus solidum et succi plenum.[218]

“The Eunuch” suggested the plot of Sir Charles Sedley’s “Bellamira,” wastranslated by Lafontaine, and imitated in “Le Muet” of Brueys.

 “_Heautontimorumenos._”

“The Self-Punisher” is a translation from Menander. It was acted thefirst time with Phrygian music, the second time with Lydian, in theconsulship of the celebrated Ti. Sempronius Gracchus and M. JuventiusThalna.[219] This play may be considered as the masterpiece of Terence;it was a great favourite, notwithstanding its seriousness, and theabsence of comic drollery throughout. Steele[220] remarks with truth,that it is a picture of human life; but there is not in the whole onepassage which could raise a laugh. It is a good specimen of the refinedtaste of Terence, who, unlike Plautus, abhorred vulgarity and ribaldry,and did not often condescend even to humour. Its favourable reception,moreover, proves that, notwithstanding the preference which the Romanpeople were inclined to give to gladiatorial shows, and the moreinnocent amusements of buffoons and rope-dancers, and the noisy mirthwith which theatrical entertainments were frequently interrupted, theycould appreciate and enjoy a skilfully-constructed plot, and thatquality which Terence especially claims for this comedy,[221] purity ofstyle. The noble sentiment,

 Homo sum, nihil humanum a me alienum puto,

was received by the whole audience with a burst of applause.

_Plot._——Clinia, the son of Menedemus, falls in love with Antiphila,supposed to be the daughter of a poor Corinthian woman, and, to avoidhis father’s anger, enters the service of the king of Persia. Menedemus,repenting of his severity, punishes himself by purchasing a farm, and,giving up all the luxuries of a town life, works hard from morning tonight. Like Laertes, in the Odyssey, he seeks by occupation to diverthis mind from the contemplation of his son’s absence:—

 The mournful hour that tore his son away Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray; Yet, busied with his slaves, to ease his wo He drest the vine, and bade the garden blow. _Odys._ xvi. 145.

Clinia returns from Asia, and takes up his abode at the house of hisfriend Clitipho, the son of Chremes. This Clitipho has fallen in lovewith Bacchis, an extravagant courtesan; and Syrus, an artful slave,persuades him to pass off Bacchis as the object of Clinia’s affection,and Antiphila as her waiting-maid. Chremes, next day, to whom Menedemushad communicated his grief and remorse, acquaints him with the return ofhis son, and recommends him to pretend ignorance of his amour. By theintrigues and knavery of Syrus, Chremes is induced to pay 10 minæ(40_l._) to Clitipho for the support of Bacchis. Sostrata, the wife ofChremes, has mean while discovered, by a ring in her possession, thatAntiphila is her daughter. She had, according to the cruel Athenianpractice, given her to the Corinthian in infancy that she might not beexposed; she had given the ring, the means of her discovery, at the sametime. Clinia, therefore, marries Antiphila; and Chremes, althoughenraged at the imposition of Syrus, forgives him and his son, andClitipho promises that he will give up Bacchis and marry a neighbour’sdaughter.

This play abounds in amiable and generous sentiments and passages ofsimple and graphic beauty. The whole scene, in which the habits of thepoor girl whom Clinia loves is described, is exquisitely true to nature.Her occupation is like that of the chaste Lucretia in the legend:—

 Texentem telam studiose ipsam offendimus, Mediocriter vestitam veste lugubri, Ejus anuis causa, opinor, quæ erat mortua; Sine auro, tum ornatam, ita uti quæ ornantur sibi; Nulla mala re esse expolitam muliebri; Capillus passus, prolixus, circum caput Rejectus negligenter. _Heaut._ II. iii.

 Busily plying of the web we found her, Decently clad in mourning, I suppose, For the deceased old woman. She had on No gold, or trinkets, but was plain and neat, And dressed like those who dress but for themselves. No female varnish to set off her beauty; Her hair dishevelled, long, and flowing loose About her shoulders.

The reader cannot but sympathize with the remark of Clitipho, when hehas heard this description of virtuous poverty,—“If all this is true, asI believe it is, you are the most fortunate of men.”

The degraded Bacchis also reads a valuable lesson to her sex, when sheshows the blessings of the path of virtue from which she has strayed:—

 Nam expedit bonas esse vobis: nos, quibuscum est res, non sinunt; Quippe forma impulsi nostra, nos amatores colunt: Hæc ubi immutata est, illi suum animum alio conferunt. Nisi si prospectum interea aliquid est, desertæ vivimus. Vobis cum uno semel ubi ætatem agere decretum ’st viro, Cujus mos maxume ’st consimilis vostrum, hi se ad vos applicant. Hoc beneficio utrique ab utrisque vero devincimini, Ut nunquam ulla amori vestro incidere possit calamitas. _Heaut._ II. iv.

 Virtue’s your interest: those with whom we deal Forbid it to be ours; for our gallants, Charmed by our beauty, court us but for that; Which, fading, they transfer their love to others. If, then, mean while we look not to ourselves, We live forlorn, deserted, and distressed. You, when you’ve once agreed to pass your life Bound to one man whose temper suits with yours, He too attaches his whole heart to you. Thus mutual friendship draws you each to each; Nothing can part you, nothing shake your love.

How beautiful, too, is the unselfish devotion of Antiphila, when sheartlessly professes to know nothing of other women’s feelings, but toknow this one thing only, that her happiness is wrapped up in that ofher lover!——

 Nescio alias; me quidem semper scio fecisse sedulo Ut ex illius commodo meum compararem commodum. II. iv. 16.

 PHORMIO.

The Phormio is a translation or adaptation of the Epidicazomene (_thesubject of the law suit_) of Apollodorus: it was entitled Phormio.

 Quia primas partes qui aget, is erit Phormio Parasitus, per quem res geretur maxume.[222]

It was acted four times; on the last occasion, in the consulship of C.Fannius Strabo and M. Valerius Messala,[223] at the Roman or Circensiangames.

_Plot._——Chremes, an Athenian, although he has a wife at Athens,(Nausistrata,) marries another at Lemnos under the feigned name ofStilpho. By her he has a daughter, Phanium. When she has attained amarriageable age, Chremes arranges with his brother Demipho, that sheshall become the wife of his son Antipho. After this, the two old menleave Athens; and in their absence Demipho’s son, Phædria, falls in lovewith a minstrel-girl, and the Lemnian wife arrives at Athens, togetherwith her daughter Phanium. There she dies; and Antipho, seeing Phaniumat the funeral, becomes enamoured of her. Not knowing what to do, hetakes the advice of Phormio. In the case of a destitute orphan, theAthenian law compelled the nearest of kin to marry her or to give aportion. Phormio brings an action against Antipho; the case is proved,and he marries Phanium. The old men return, and Chremes, not knowingthat Phanium is his own daughter, is desperately angry. Mean while,Dorio, the owner of Pamphila, threatens to sell her to some one elseunless Phædria will immediately pay him thirty minæ. Geta, a knavishservant of Demipho, procures this money by telling the old gentlemanthat Phormio is willing to take Antipho’s wife off his hands oncondition of receiving thirty minæ. Phanium is eventually discovered andacknowledged, and thus matters are happily concluded. Nausistrata is atfirst very angry, but relents on the submission of the repentantChremes.

This comedy supplied Molière with a large portion of the materials for“Les Fourberies de Scapin.”

 HECYRA.

This comedy, which, if the inscription may be trusted, is a translationor adaptation from one by Menander, was the least successful of all theplays of Terence. Twice it was rejected; on the first occasion, as theprologue to its second representation informs us, owing to “anunheard-of calamity and impediment.”[224] The thoughts of the publicwere so occupied by a rope-dancer that they would not hear a word.Terence feared to risk a second representation on the same day; but suchconfidence had he in the merits of the play, that he offered it a secondtime for sale to the ædiles, and it was acted again in the consulship ofCn. Octavius and T. Manlius.[225] It was acted a third time at thefuneral games of L. Æmilius Paulus, when it was again rejected. On itsnext representation, it was successful; and Ambivius Turpio, by whosetheatrical company it was performed, and whose popularity had alreadycaused the revival of some unsuccessful plays,[226] undertook to pleadits cause in a new prologue. This prologue enters fully into thecircumstances which caused its rejection. It states that some renownedboxers and expected performances of a rope-dancer caused a great tumultand disturbance, especially among the female part of the audience; that,at the next representation, the first act went off with applause, but arumour spread of a gladiatorial combat, the people flocked to a showwhich was more congenial to their taste, and the theatre was deserted.In conclusion, for the sake of the art of poetry, for the encouragementof himself to buy new plays, and for the protection of the poet frommalicious critics, Ambivio entreated the patient attention of theaudience; and the appeal of the old favourite servant of the public wassuccessful.

The Hecyra is, without doubt, inferior to the other plays of Terence,and probably for that reason has never been imitated in modernliterature. It is a drama of domestic life, and yet the plot isdeficient in interest, and the scenes want life and variety.

_Plot._—Pamphilus, at the desire of his father, Laches, marriesPhilumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina, but being involved inan amour with Bacchis, has no affection for his wife, and avoids allintercourse with her. Meanwhile, Bacchis offended at his marriage, showssuch an ill-temper, that his affection is weaned from her andtransferred to Philumena. Pamphilus then goes to Imbrus, and on hisreturn is surprised with the news that Philumena has left his father’shouse, and subsequently discovers that she has given birth to a son. Herefuses, consequently, to receive her as his wife; but as he loves herto distraction, he promises her mother that he will keep her shamesecret. As he will neither live with his wife nor assign any reason,Bacchis is suspected of being the cause. But she clears herself from thesuspicion. Myrrhina, however, recognises upon her finger a ringbelonging to her daughter. This leads to the _dénouement_. Pamphilus hadone night when intoxicated met Philumena, and offered her violence. Hehad forced a ring from her finger and given it to Bacchis. He,therefore, with joy, acknowledges the child as his own, and restores hisinjured wife to his affections.

The comedy derives its title, Hecyra (the mother-in-law,) from the parttaken by Sostrata, the mother of Pamphilus. Laches, unable to accountfor the conduct of Philumena and his son, is firmly persuaded that hiswife Sostrata had taken a prejudice against her daughter-in-law, andPamphilus, notwithstanding his dutiful affection for his mother, cannotavoid being under a similar impression. Sostrata, in order to removethis suspicion, offers with noble generosity to leave the house in orderthat Philumena may return.

This amiable rivalry of maternal devotion on the one hand, and filialrespect on the other, constitutes the most interesting portion of thecomedy; and Terence has thus endeavoured to rescue the relation ofmother-in-law from the prejudice which, too often deservedly, attachedto it.

 ADELPHI.

This comedy was acted at the funeral games of L. Æmilius PaulusMacedonius, the conqueror of Perseus, in the consulship of L. AniciusGallus and M. Cornelius Cethegus.[227] The music was Sarrane or Tyrian,the grave character of which was suitable to the solemnity of theoccasion. The cost of the representation was borne by Q. Fabius Maximus,and P. C. Scipio Africanus, the sons of the deceased.

_Plot._—Demea, a country gentleman and a strict disciplinarian, has twosons, Æschinus and Ctesipho. Æschinus, the elder, is adopted by hisuncle Micio, a bachelor of indulgent temper and somewhat looseprinciples, who lives a town life at Athens. Whilst Ctesipho is broughtup strictly in the country, Æschinus is educated with too greatindulgence, and pursues a course of riot and extravagance. One night, ina moment of drunken passion, he offers violence to Pamphila, a youngmaiden, well born but poor; for which outrage he makes amends by apromise of marriage. Ctesipho soon after falls in love with a minstrelgirl whom he accidentally meets; and Æschinus, to save his brother fromhis father’s anger, conceals his amour and takes the discredit of itupon himself. At last he assaults the pander to whom the girl belongs,takes her away by force, and gives her to his brother. The affair comesto Demea’s ears, who severely reproves Micio for ruining his son byinjudicious indulgence. Matters are at length explained, and themarriage between Æschinus and Pamphila takes place, the minstrel girl isassigned to Ctesipho, and the price for her paid. The old bachelor,Micio, marries Sostrata, the mother of Pamphila, and, according to theusual rule of comedy, all the inferior persons of the drama are madehappy.

Lax as the morals are which Micio refrains from correcting, his conductillustrates a valuable principle in education; that——

 There is a way of winning more by love And urging of the modesty than fear. Force works on servile humours, not the free. _Ben Jonson._

Nor are the evils likely to arise from indifference to moral principleleft entirely without an antidote. A wise and not indiscriminateindulgence is upheld by Demea; and, at the conclusion of the play, heannounces his deliberate change of character, but, at the same time,points out the pernicious errors of that kindness and indulgence whichproceeds from impulse and not from principle.

 Dicam tibi: Ut id ostenderem, quod te isti facilem et festivum putant, Id non fieri ex vera vita, neque adeo ex æquo et bono; Sed assentando atque indulgendo et largiendo, Micio. Nunc adeo, si ob eam rem vobis mea vita invisa, Æschine, est, Quia non justa, injusta, prorsus omnia omnino obsequor; Missa facio; effundite, emite, facite, quod vobis lubet. Sed si id voltis potius, quæ vos propter adulescentiam Minus videtis, magis impense cupitis, consulitis parum, Hæc reprehendere et corrigere quam, obsecundare in loco; Ecce me qui id faciam vobis.

 Now, therefore, if I’m odious to you, son, Because I’m not subservient to your humour In all things, right or wrong; away with care: Spend, squander, and do what you will. But if, In those affairs where youth has made you blind, Eager, and thoughtless, you will suffer me To counsel and correct you, and in due season Indulge you, I am at your service. _Colman._

This twofold lesson is by no means a useless one to parents, not topurchase the affection of their children by injudicious indulgence likeMicio, nor, on the other hand, like Demea, to strain the cord too tight,and thus tempt their children to pursue a course of deceit, and torefuse their confidence to their natural advisers and guardians. Themost beautiful feature, however, of the play is the picture which itgives of fraternal affection. This was the last comedy of the author. Itfurnished Molière with the idea of his “Ecole des Maris,” and Baron withgreat part of the plot of “L’Ecole de Pères.” Shadwell was also indebtedto it for his “Squire of Alsatia,” and Garrick for his comedy of “TheGuardian.”

The following comparison of the two great Roman comic poets by a Frenchcritic is a just one:——

“Ce poète (Térence) a beaucoup plus d’art, mais il me semble que l’autrea plus d’esprit. Terence fait beaucoup plus parler qu’agir; l’autre faitplus agir que parler: et c’est le véritable caractère de la comédie, quiest beaucoup plus dans l’action que dans le discours. Cette vivacité meparoît donner encore un grand avantage à Plaute; c’est que ses intriguessont bien variées, et ont toujours quelque chose qui surprendagréablement; au lieu que le théâtre semble languir quelquefois dansTérence, à qui la vivacité de l’action et les nœuds des incidens et desintrigues manquent manifestement.”

If Terence was inferior to Plautus in life and bustle and intrigue, andin the powerful delineation of national character, he is superior inelegance of language and refinement of taste; he far more rarely offendsagainst decency, and he substitutes delicacy of sentiment for vulgarity.The justness of his reflections more than compensates for the absence ofhis predecessor’s humour: he touches the heart as well as gratifies theintellect.

If he was deficient in _vis comica_, it is only the defect which Cæsarattributed to Roman comedy generally; and Cicero, who thought that Romanwit was even more piquant than Attic salt itself, paid him a meritedcompliment in the following line:——

 Quicquid come loquens atque omnia dulcia dicens.

It has been objected to Terence that he superabounds insoliloquies;[228] but it is not surprising that he should have delightedin them, since no author ever surpassed him in narrative. His naturaland unaffected simplicity renders him the best possible teller of astory: he never indulges in a display of forced wit or in attempts atepigrammatic sharpness; there are no superfluous touches, although hispictures are enlivened by sufficient minuteness; his moral lessons areconveyed in familiar proverb-like suggestions, not in dull and pedanticdogmatism.

The remaining comic poets will require but brief notice. L. Afranius wasa contemporary of Terence, and flourished about B. C. 150. His comedieswere all of the lowest class of _fabulæ togatæ_ (tabernariæ;) and he wasgenerally allowed by the critics to possess great skill in accommodatingthe Greek comedy to the representation of Roman manners:——

 Dicitur Afrani _toga_ convenisse Menandro. _Hor. Ep._ II. i. 57.

His style was short and eloquent (_perargutus et disertus_,)[229] but hewas a man of low tastes and profligate morals;[230] and, therefore,although, from living amidst the scenes of vulgar vice which hedelighted to paint, his characters were true to nature, they wererevolting and disgusting. His immorality, probably, as much as histalent, caused him to continue a favourite under the most corrupt timesof the empire. Fragments and titles of many of his comedies have beenpreserved.

The name of Atilius is made known to us by Cicero, who mentions himthree times. In a letter to Atticus,[231] he calls him a most crabbedpoet (_poeta durissimus_,) and quotes the following line from one of hiscomedies:—

 Suam cuique sponsam, mihi meam; suum cuique amorem, mihi meum.

In the treatise “_De Finibus_,”[232] he speaks of him as the author of abad translation of the Electra of Sophocles, and refers to the testimonyof Licinius, who pronounces him as “hard as iron”——

 Ferreum scriptorem; verum opinor; scriptorem tamen Ut legendus sit;

and, lastly, in the “Tusculan Disputations,”[233] he gives the title ofone of his plays—Μισογυνος (the Woman-hater.) Of his birth and privatehistory nothing has been recorded.

P. Licinius Tegula is generally supposed to have been one of the oldestof the Latin comic writers, having flourished as early as the beginningof the second century B. C. The few fragments which remain of his worksafford no opportunity of determining how far he deserved the placeassigned to him in the epigram of Volcatius.

Lavinius Luscius is severely criticised by Terence in his prologues tothe Eunuchus, Heautontimorumenos, and Phormio, although he is notmentioned by name. Terence, however, defends the severity of hisstrictures, on the ground that Luscius was the first aggressor. In thefirst of the above-mentioned prologues, we are informed that hetranslated well; but, by unskilful alterations and adaptations of theplots, made bad Latin comedies out of good Greek ones:—

 —— bene vertendo et describendo male Ex Græcis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas.

Two plays of Menander are mentioned as having been thus ill-treated—thePhasma (Phantom,) and the Thesaurus (Treasure.) How he spoilt the plotof the former is not stated; but in the version of the Thesaurus,Terence convicts Luscius of a legal blunder. A young prodigal has soldhis inheritance, on which his father’s tomb stands, to an old miser. Thefather, foreseeing the consequence of his son’s extravagance, had,before his death, bid him open the tomb after the expiration of tenyears. He does so, and finds a treasure. The old man claims the treasureas his own, and the young man brings an action to recover it. Themistake of which Luscius was guilty, was, that in the conduct of thecause he made the defendant open the pleadings instead of the plaintiff.

Of the works of Q. Trabea no fragments remain except the short passagesquoted by Cicero,[234] and the time at which he flourished is unknown.There is an anecdote which relates that Muretus presented to Jos.Scaliger a translation in Latin verse from a poem of Philemon, preservedby Stobæus, which he pretended was by Trabea. Scaliger was imposed upon;and in his notes on Varro, quoted the verses of Muretus as the work ofTrabea. When he discovered the trick, he suppressed them in the Latineditions of his notes, and revenged himself on Muretus by a libellousepigram.[235]

The last of these dramatic writers who remains to be mentioned is SextusTurpilius. A few fragments, as well as the titles of some of his plays,are still extant. All the titles are Greek, and, therefore, probably hiscomedies were _Fabulæ Palliatæ_. He flourished during the second centuryB. C., and died, according to the Eusebian Chronicle, at thecommencement of the first century.[236]

 CHAPTER VIII.WHY TRAGEDY DID NOT FLOURISH AT ROME—NATIONAL LEGENDS NOT INFLUENTIALWITH THE PEOPLE—FABULÆ PRÆTEXTATÆ—ROMAN RELIGION NOT IDEAL—ROMAN LOVE

FOR SCENES OF REAL ACTION AND GORGEOUS SPECTACLE—TRAGEDY NOT PATRONISED

 BY THE PEOPLE—PACUVIUS—HIS DULORESTES AND PAULUS.

From what has been already said, it is sufficiently clear that theItalians, like all other Indo-European races, had some taste for thedrama, but that this taste developed itself in a love for scenes ofhumorous satire. Whilst, therefore, Roman comedy originated in Italy,and was brought to perfection by the influence of Greek literature,Roman tragedy,[237] on the other hand, was transplanted from Athens, andwith the exception of a very few cases, was never anything more thantranslation or imitation.

In the century, during which, together with comedy, it flourished anddecayed, it boasted of five distinguished writers—Livius, Nævius,Ennius, Pacuvius, and Attius. The only claim of Atilius to be consideredas a tragic poet is his having been the translator of one Greek tragedy.But, in after ages, Rome did not produce one tragic poet unless Variuscan be considered an exception. His tragedy, _Thyestes_, which enjoyedso high a reputation amongst the critics of the Augustan age, thatQuintilian, whose judgment generally agrees with them, pronounces it asable to bear comparison with the productions of the Greek tragic poets.It was acted on one occasion, namely, after the return of Octavius fromthe battle of Actium, and the poet received for it 1,000,000 sesterces(about 8,000_l._)[238] The tragedies attributed to Seneca were neveracted, and were only composed for reading and recitation.

Some account has already been given of Livius, Nævius, and Ennius,because their poetical reputation rests rather on other grounds than ontheir talents for dramatic poetry. But, before proceeding with the livesand writings of Pacuvius and Attius, it will be necessary to examine thecauses which prevented tragedy from flourishing at Rome.

In endeavouring to account for this phenomenon, it is not sufficient tosay, that in the national legends of the Hellenic race were imbodiedsubjects essentially of a dramatic character, and that epic poetrycontained incidents, characters, sentiments, and even dramaticmachinery, which only required to be put upon the stage. Doubtless theGreek epics and legends were an inexhaustible source of inspiration tothe tragic poets. But it is also true that the Romans had nationallegends which formed the groundwork of their history, and wereinterwoven in their early literature. These legends, however, wereprivate, not public property; they were preserved in the records andpedigrees of private families, and ministered to their glory, and weretherefore more interesting to the members of these houses than to thepeople at large: they were not preserved as a national treasure bypriestly families, like those of the Attic Eumolpidæ, nor did they twinethemselves around the hearts of the Roman people, as the venerabletraditions of Greece did around those of that nation. The Romans did notlive in them—they were embalmed in their poets as curious records ofantiquity or acknowledged fictions—they did not furnish occasions forawakening national enthusiasm. Although, therefore, they existed, theywere comparatively powerless over the popular mind as elements ofdramatic effect.

They were jealously preserved by illustrious houses, furnished materialsin a dry and unadorned form to the annalists, and were embellished bythe graphic power of the historian; but it is not probable that theyever constituted, in the same sense as the Greek legends, the folkloreof the Roman people. In themselves, the lays of Horatius and of the lakeRegillus were sufficiently stirring, and those of Lucretia, Coriolanus,and Virginia sufficiently moving, for tragedy, but they were notfamiliar to the masses of the people.

A period at length arrived in which there was a still further reason whyRoman national legends, however adapted for tragedy they might beabstractedly, had not power to move the affections of the Romanpopulace. It ceased to have a personal interest in them. The masses hadundergone a complete change. The Roman people of the most flourishingliterary eras were not the descendants of those who maintained thenational glory in the legendary period. Not only were almost all thepatrician families then extinct, but war and poverty had extinguishedthe middle classes, and miserably thinned the lower orders. The oldveterans of pure Roman blood who survived were settled at a distancefrom Rome in the different military colonies. Into the vacancy thuscaused had poured thousands of slaves, captives in the bloody wars ofGaul and Spain, and Greece and Africa. These and their descendantsreplaced the ancient people. Many of them received liberty andfranchise, and some by their talents and energy arrived at wealth andstation. But they could not possibly be Romans at heart, or consider thepast glories of their adopted country as their own. They were bound byno ties of old associations to it. The ancient legends had no especialinterest in their eyes. It mattered little whether the incidents andcharacters of the tragedy which they witnessed were Greek or Roman. Itwas to the rise of this new element of population, and the displacementor absorption of the old race, that the decline of patriotism wasowing—the careless disregard of everything except daily sustenance anddaily amusement,[239] which paved the way for the empire, and marked thedownfall of liberty. From this cause, also, resulted in some degree thenon-influential position which national traditions occupied at Rome; andtragedy, though for a time popular, could not maintain its popularity.Thus it entirely disappeared; and, when it revived, it came forth, notas the favourite of the people, but under the patronage of selectcircles, and took its place, not like Athenian tragedy, as the leadingliterature of the age, but simply as one species of literarycomposition.

A people made up of these elements held out no temptation to the poet toleave the beaten track of his predecessor, the imitations of Greektragedy. They were step-sons of Rome, as Scipio Æmilianus called themob, who clamoured at his saying that the death of Tiberius Gracchus wasjust:—

 Mercedibus emptæ Et viles operæ quibus est mea Roma noverca. _Petron._ v. 164.

The poet’s real patrons had been educated on Greek principles; and henceGreek taste was completely triumphant over national legend, and theheroes of Roman tragedy were those who were celebrated in Hellenicstory. The Roman historical plays, (prætextatæ,) which approached mostnearly towards realizing the idea of a national tragedy, were gracefulcompliments to distinguished individuals. They were usually performed atpublic funerals; and as, in the procession, masks representing thefeatures of the deceased were borne by persons of similar stature, soincidents in his life formed the subject of the drama which wasexhibited on the occasion.

The list of _Fabulæ Prætextatæ_, even if it were perfect, would occupybut narrow limits; nor had they sufficient merits to stand the test oftime. They survive but in name, and the titles extant are but nine innumber:——

The Paulus of Pacuvius, which represented an incident in the life of L.Æmilius Paulus.[240]

The Brutus, Æneadæ, and Marcellus of Attius.[241]

Iter ad Lentulum, a passage in the life of Balbus.[242]

Cato.

Domitius Nero, by Maternus, in the time of Vespasian.

Vescio, by the Satirist (?) Persius.

Octavian, by Seneca, in the reign of Trajan.

Nor must it be forgotten, in comparing the influence which tragedyexercised upon the people of Athens and Rome, that with the former itwas a part and parcel of the national religion. By it not only were thepeople taught to sympathize with their heroic ancestors, but theirsympathies were hallowed. In Greece, the poet was held to beinspired—poetry was the voice of deified nature—the tongue in which thenatural held communion with the supernatural, the visible with theinvisible. With the Romans, poetry was nothing more than an amusement ofthe fancy; with the Greeks, it was a divinely originating emotion of thesoul.

Hence, in Athens, the drama was, as it were, an act of worship,—itformed an integral part of a joyous, yet serious, religious festival.The theatre was a temple; the altar of a deity was its central point;and a band of choristers moved in solemn march and song in honour of thegod, and, in the didactic spirit which sanctified their office, taughtmen lessons of virtue. Not that the audience entered the precincts withtheir hearts imbued with holy feelings, or with the thoughts ofworshippers; but this is always the case when religious ceremonialsbecome sensuous. The real object of the worship is by the majorityforgotten. But still the Greeks were habituated unconsciously to beaffected by the drama, as by a development of religious sentiments. Withthe Romans, the theatre was merely a place of secular amusement. Thethymele existed no longer as a memorial of the sacrifice to the god. Theorchestra, formerly consecrated to the chorus, was to them nothing morethan stalls occupied by the dignitaries of the state. Dramas werecertainly exhibited at the great Megalensian games, but they were onlyaccessories to the religious character of the festival. A holy seasonimplies rest and relaxation—a _holiday_ in the popular sense of theword—and theatrical representations were considered a fit and properspecies of pastime; but as religion itself did not exercise the sameinfluence over the popular mind of the Romans which it did over that ofthe Greeks, so neither with the Romans did the drama stand in the placeof the handmaid of religion.

Again, their religion, though purer and chaster, was not ideal like thatof the Greeks. Its freedom from human passions removed it out of thesphere of poetry, and, therefore, it was neither calculated to moveterror nor pity. The moral attributes of the Deity were displayed instern severity; but neither the belief nor the ceremonial sought toinflame the heart of the worshipper with enthusiasm. Rome had nopriestly caste uniting in one and the same person the character of thebard and of the minister of religion. In after ages, she learned fromthe Greeks to call the poet sacred, but the holiness which sheattributed to his character was not the earnest belief of the heart. TheRoman priests were civil magistrates; religion, therefore, became a partof the civil administration, and a political engine. It mattered littlewhat was believed as true. The old national faith of Italy, not beingfirmly rooted in the heart, soon became obsolete: it readily admittedthe engrafting of foreign superstitions. The old deities assumed thenames of the Greek mythology: they exchanged their attributes andhistories for those of Greek legend, and a host of strange gods filledtheir Pantheon. They had, however, no hold either on the belief or thelove of the people: they were mythological and unreal characters, fitonly to furnish subjects and embellishments for poetry.

Nor was the genius of the Roman people such as to sympathize with thelegends of the past. The Romans lived in the present and the future,rather than in the past. The poet might call the age in which he liveddegenerate, and look forward with mournful anticipations to a stilllower degradation, whilst he looked back admiringly to bygone times.Through the vista of past years, Roman virtue and greatness seemed tohis imagination magnified: he could lament, as Horace did, a gradualdecay, which had not as yet reached its worst point:——

 Ætas parentum pejor avis tulit Nos nequiores mox daturos Progeniem vitiosiorem. _Od._ III. vi. 46.

But the people did not sympathize with these feelings: they delighted inaction, not in contemplation and reflection. They did not look back upontheir national heroes as demigods, or dream over their glories: theywere pressing forward and extending the frontiers of their empire,bringing under their yoke tribes and nations which their forefathers hadnot known. If they regarded their ancestors at all, it was not in thelight of men of heroic stature, as compared with themselves, but asthose whom they could equal or even surpass: they lived in hope and notin memory.

These are not the elements of character which would lead a people torealize to themselves the ideal of tragedy. The tragic poet at Athenswould have been sure that the same subject which inspired him would alsointerest his audience—that if his genius rose to the height which theircritical taste demanded, he could reckon up the sympathy of a theatrecrowded with ten thousand of his countrymen. A Roman tragic poet wouldhave been deserted for any spectacle of a more stirring nature—his mostaffecting scenes and noble sentiments, for scenes of real action andreal life. The bloody combats of the gladiators, the miserable captivesand malefactors stretched on crosses, expiring in excruciating agonies,or mangled by wild beasts, were real tragedies—the sham fights andNaumachiæ, though only imitations, were real dramas, in which thosepursuits which most deeply interested the spectators, which constitutedtheir chief duties and highest glories, were visibly represented. Evengorgeous spectacles fed their personal vanity and pride in theirnational greatness. The spoil of conquered nations, borne in processionacross the stage, reminded them of their triumphs and their victories;and the magnificent dress of the actors—the model of the captured city,preceded and followed by its sculptures in marble and ivory—representedin mimic grandeur the ovation or the triumph of some successful general,whose return from a distant expedition, laden with wealth, realized therumours which had already arrived at the gates of Rome; whilst thescene, glittering with glass, and gold, and silver, and adorned withvariegated pillars of foreign marble, told ostentatiously of theirwealth and splendour.[243]

Again, the Romans were a rough, turbulent people, full of physicalrather than intellectual energy, loving antagonism, courting peril,setting no value on human life or suffering. Their very virtues werestern and severe. The unrelenting justice of a Brutus, representing asit did the victory of principle over feeling, was to them the height ofvirtue. They were ready to undergo the extreme of physical torture withRegulus, and to devote themselves to death, like Curtius and the Decii.Hard and pitiless to themselves, they were, as might be expected, thesame towards others. They were, in fact, strangers to both the passions,which it was the object of tragedy to excite and to purify, Pity andTerror.[244] They were too stern to pity, too unimaginative to be movedby the tales of wonder and deeds of horror which affected the tender andmarvel-loving imagination of the Greeks. Being an active, and not asentimental people, they did not appreciate moral suffering and thestruggles of a sensitive spirit. They were moved only by scenes ofphysical suffering and agony.

The public games of Greece at Olympia, or the Isthmus, were bloodlessand peaceful, and the refinements of poetry mingled with those whichwere calculated to invigorate the physical powers and develop manlybeauty. Those of Rome were exhibitions, not of moral, but of physicalcourage and endurance: they were sanguinary and brutalizing,—theamusements of a nation to whom war was not a necessary evil or astruggle for national existence, for hearths and altars, but a pleasureand a pastime—the means of gratifying an aggressive ambition. The tragicfeeling of Greece is represented by the sculptured grief of Niobe, thatof Rome by the death-struggles which distort the features and muscles ofthe Laocoon. It was, if the expression is allowable, _amphitheatrical_,not _theatrical_.

To such a people the moral woes of tragedy were powerless; and yet it isto the people that the drama, if it is to flourish, must look forpatronage. A refined and educated society, such as always existed atRome during its literary period, might applaud a happy adaptation fromthe Greek tragedians, and encourage a poet in his task—for it is only aneducated and refined taste which can appreciate such talent as skilfulimitation displays; but a tragic drama under such circumstances couldhardly hope to be national. Nor must it be forgotten, with reference totheir taste for spectacle, that the artistic accessories of the dramawould have a better chance of success with a people like the Romans thanliterary merit, because the pleasures of art are of a lower and moresensuous kind. Hence, in the popular eye, the decoration of the theatreand the costume of the performers naturally became the principalrequisites, whilst the poet’s office was considered subordinate to themanner in which the play was put upon the stage; and thus the degeneratetheatrical taste which prevailed in the days of Horace called forth thepoet’s well-known and well-deserved criticism.[245]

It cannot, indeed, be asserted that tragedy was never, to a certainextent, an acceptable entertainment at Rome, but only that it neverflourished at Rome as it did at Athens—that no Roman tragedies can,notwithstanding all that has been said in their praise and theirdefence, be compared with those of Greece, and that the tragic dramanever maintained such a hold on the popular mind as not to be liable tobe displaced by amusements of a more material and less intellectualkind. It was imitative and destitute of originality. It was introducedfrom without as one portion of the new literature; it did not growspontaneously by a process of natural development out of preceding erasof epic and lyric poetry, and start into being, as it did at Athens, atthe very moment when the public mind and taste was ready to receive andappreciate it.

Three eras, separated from one another by chasms, the second wider thanthe first, produced tragic poets. In the first of these flourishedLivius Andronicus, Nævius, and Ennius; in the second Pacuvius andAttius; in the third Asinius Pollio[246] wrote tragedies, the plots ofwhich, as the words of Virgil seem to imply, were taken from Romanhistory.[247] Varius either wrote, or, as some of the Scholiasts assert,stole, the “Thyestes” from Cassius or Virgil. Ovid attempted a “Medea,”of which Quintilian speaks, as being, to say the least, a promisingperformance; and even the Emperor Augustus himself, together with othermen of genius, tried their hands, though unsuccessfully, at tragedy. Theepistle of Horace to the Pisos shows at once the prevalence of thistaste, and that general ignorance of the rules and principles of artrequired instruction. Ten rhetorical dramas, attributed with good reasonto the philosopher Seneca, complete the catalogue of tragedies belongingto this era, but with the exception of these, no specimens remain; mostprobably they did not merit preservation. The tragedies of the olderschool were of a higher stamp, and they kept their place in the publicestimation long enough to give birth to the newer and inferior school.Passages from the old Latin tragedies quoted by Cicero well deserve theadmiration with which he regarded them; and a fragment of the“Prometheus” of Attius is marked by a grandeur and sublimity which makesus regret the almost total loss of this branch of Roman literature.

 PACUVIUS (BORN B. C. 220.)

The era at which Roman tragedy reached its highest degree of perfectionwas the second of those mentioned, and was simultaneous with that ofcomedy. Both nourished together; for, whilst Terence was so successfullyreproducing the wit and manners of the new Attic comedy, M. Pacuvius wasenriching the Roman drama with free imitations of the Greek tragedians.He was a native of Brundisium, and nephew,[248] or, according to St.Jerome, grandson of the poet Ennius. Although born as early as B. C.220, he does not appear to have attained the height of his popularityuntil B. C.[249] During his residence at Rome, where he remained untilafter his 80th year,[250] he distinguished himself as a painter as wellas a dramatic poet; and one of his pictures in the temple of Herculeswas thought only to be surpassed by the work of Fabius Pictor.[251] Heformed one of that literary circle of which Lælius was so great anornament. The close of his long life was passed in the retirement ofTarentum, where he died in the ninetieth year of his age. A simple andunpretending epigram is preserved by Aulus Gellius,[252] which mayprobably have been written by himself:——

 Adulescens, etsi properas, te hoc saxum rogat Uti ad se aspicias, deinde quod scriptum est, legas. Hic sunt poetæ Pacuvi Marci sita Ossa. Hoc volebam, nescius ne esses. Vale!

Pacuvius was a great favourite with those who could make allowances forthe faults, and appreciate the merits, of the great writers ofantiquity, and his verses were popular in the time of J. Cæsar;[253] andthat lover of the old Roman literature, Cicero, though not blind to hisfaults, is warm in his commendations. He was not without admirers in theAugustan age, and even his defects had zealous defenders in the time ofPersius amongst those who could scarcely discover a fault in any workwhich savoured of antiquity.[254] The archaic ruggedness of hislanguage, his uncouth forms, such as _axim_, _tetinerim_,_egregiissimus_, and his unauthorized constructions, like _mihi piget_,were due to the unsettled state of the Latin language in his days. Hisstrange combinations, such as _repandirostrum_ and _incurvicervicum_,may possibly have been suggested by the study of Greek, and by hisoverweening admiration for its facility of composition. But his polish,pathos, and learning,[255] the harmony of his periods,[256] hiseloquence,[257] his fluency, his word-painting,[258] are peculiarly hisown.

The tragedies of Pacuvius were not mere translations, but adaptations ofGreek tragedies to the Roman stage. The fragments which are extant arefull of new and original thoughts. His plots were borrowed from theGreek, but the plan and treatment were his own. The lyric portionappears to have occupied an important place in his tragedies, anddisplays considerable imaginative power. It is evident that his mindonly required suggestions, and was sufficiently original, to form newcombinations. The titles of thirteen of his tragedies arepreserved,[259] of which the most celebrated were the “Antiopa” and“Dulorestes” (Orestes in Slavery.) Of the former, the only fragmentextant is one severely criticised by Persius. The latter was principallyfounded on the “Iphigenia in Tauris” of Euripides,[260] although theauthor was evidently inspired with the poetical conceptions of Æschylus.In fact, Pacuvius is less Euripidean than the other Roman tragic poets.The very roughness of his style and audacity of his expressions havesomewhat of the solemn grandeur and picturesque boldness whichdistinguish the father of Attic tragedy.

The subject of the “Dulorestes” was the adventures of the son ofAgamemnon. When driven from the palace of his ancestors, he was in exileand in slavery.[261] On the first representation of this play, thegenerous friendship of Orestes and Pylades called forth the mostenthusiastic applause from the audience, who then probably heard thelegend for the first time. “What acclamations,” says Lælius,[262]“resounded through the theatre at the representation of the new play ofmy guest and friend, M. Pacuvius, when the king, being ignorant which ofthe two was Orestes, Pylades affirmed that he was Orestes, that he mightbe put to death in his place, whilst Orestes persevered in assertingthat he was the man!”

One of his plays, “Paulus,” was a _fabula prætextata_: its subject wastaken entirely from Roman history, the hero being L. Æm. Paulus, theconqueror of Perseus. Besides tragedies, the grammarians have attributedto him one satura.[263] He is said also to have written comedies; butthere is no evidence in favour of any, with the exception of one,entitled “Mercator.”

 CHAPTER IX.L. ATTIUS—HIS TRAGEDIES AND FRAGMENTS—OTHER WORKS—TRAGEDY DISAPPEARED WITH HIM—ROMAN THEATRES—TRACES OF THE SATIRIC SPIRIT IN GREECE—ROMAN SATIRE—LUCILIUS—CRITICISMS OF HORACE, CICERO, AND QUINTILIAN—PASSAGE QUOTED BY LACTANTIUS—LÆVIUS, A LYRIC POET.

 L. ATTIUS (BORN ABOUT B. C. 170.)

Although born about fifty years later than Pacuvius,[264] Attius wasalmost his contemporary, and a competitor for popular applause. Theamiable old poet lived on the most friendly terms with his young rival;and A. Gellius tells us that after he withdrew from the literary societyof Rome to retirement at Tarentum, he on one occasion invited the risingpoet to be his guest for some days, and made him read his tragedy of“Atreus.” Pacuvius criticised it kindly, fairly praised the grandeur ofthe poetry, but said that it was somewhat harsh and hard. “You areright,” replied Attius, “but I hope to improve. Fruits which are atfirst hard and sour, become soft and mellow, but those which begin bybeing soft, end in being rotten.” Valerius Maximus[265] relates that inthe assemblies of the poets he refused to rise at the entrance of J.Cæsar, because he felt that in the republic of letters he was thesuperior. If this anecdote is genuine, it does not prove that the agedpoet was guilty of unwarrantable self-esteem, for Cæsar must then havebeen quite a youth, and if he had any claim to reputation as a poet, hewas, at any rate, not yet distinguished as a warrior or a statesman.Amongst the great men whose friendship the poet enjoyed was Dec. Brutus,who was consul A. U. C. 616.[266] Nothing more is known respecting hisprivate history, except that his parents were freedmen, and that he wasone of the colonists settled at Pisaurum, where, in after times, a farmor estate (fundus Attianus) continued to bear his name. His tragedieswere very numerous. He is said to have written more than fifty. Three atleast were _prætextatæ_, their titles being “Brutus,” “The Æneadæ,” or“Decius,”[267] and “Marcellus.” His “Trachiniæ” and “Phœnissæ” werealmost translations, the one from Sophocles, the other from Euripides;the rest were free imitations of Greek tragedies. They weredistinguished both for sublimity and pathos; and although he was warmedby the fiery spirit and tragic grandeur of Æschylus, he evidentlyevinced a predilection for Sophocles.[268] His taste is chastened, hissentiments noble, his versification elegant. His language is almostclassical, and was deservedly admired by the ancients for its polish aswell as its vigour. The “Brutus” was written at the suggestion of hisfriend Decimus. The plot was the expulsion of the Tarquins, the heroBrutus, the heroine Lucretia. He had chosen one of the noblest romancesin Roman history. Two passages,[269] quoted by Cicero, are all thatremain of this national tragedy. In them the tyrant relates to theaugurs a dream which had haunted him, and they, at his request, givetheir interpretation of it. Varro has also preserved the soliloquy ofHercules in the agonies of death, from the Trachiniæ,[270] a nobleparaphrase of Sophocles. This fine specimen of his genius extends to thelength of forty-five lines. In another passage, Philoctetes pours forthhis sufferings in language as touching as the original Greek; and in athird, Prometheus, now delivered from the tyranny of Jupiter, addressesto his assembled Titans a strain of indignant eloquence not unworthy ofÆschylus.[271] The following lines from the “Phœnissæ” and the“Complaint of Philoctetes,” are, though brief, fair examples of hislanguage and versification:——

 Sol, qui micantem candido curru atque equis Flammam citatis fervido ardore explicas, Quianam tam adverso augurio et inimico omine Thebis radiatum lumen ostendis tuum![272]

 Heu! quis salsis fluctibus mandet Me ex sublimi vertice saxi, Jamjam absumor; conficit animam Vis volneris, ulceris æstus.[273]

These are the most important of the numerous fragments which are extantof the various tragedies of the lofty Attius.[274] He has beenconsidered by some as the founder of the _Tragœdia Prætextatæ_. This,however, is not true, for there is no doubt that such dramas werewritten by his predecessors. Nevertheless, he brought the naturaltragedy to its highest state of perfection.

The time was now evidently approaching when the Romans were beginning toshow, that although they did not possess the inventive genius of theGreeks, they were capable of stripping their native language of itsrudeness, and of transferring into it the beauties of Greek thought;that they were no longer mere servile copyists, but could use Greekpoetry as furnishing suggestions for original efforts. They could notquarry for themselves, but they could now build up Greek materials intoa glowing and polished edifice, of which the details were new and theeffect original.

The metres which Attius used were chiefly the iambic trimeter and theanapæstic dimeter, but his _prætextatæ_ were written in trochaic andiambic tetrameters, the rhythm of which proves that his ear was morerefined than that of his predecessors.[275]

It is not known whether he was the author of any comedies, but he was ahistorian, an antiquarian, and a critic, as well as a poet. He leftbehind him a review of dramatic poetry, entitled “_Libri Didascalion_,”“Roman Annals,” in verse, and two other works—“_Libri Pragmaticon_,” and“_Parerga_.” The former of these is quoted by Nonius, and A. Gellius. Hedied at an advanced age, probably about A. U. C. 670, and is thus alink, as it were, which connects the first literary period with the ageof Cicero; for the great orator was personally acquainted with him, andat his death must have been about twenty-two years of age.

With Attius Latin tragedy disappeared. The tragedies of the third periodwere written expressly for reading and recitation, and not for thestage. They may have deserved the commendations which they obtained, butthe merit and talent which they displayed were simply rhetorical, andnot dramatic; they were dramatic poems, not dramas.

The state of political affairs, which synchronized with the death ofAttius, was less congenial than ever to the tragic muse. Real and bloodytragedies were being enacted, and there was no room in the heart of theRoman people for fictitious woes. If it was improbable that a people whodelighted in the sanguinary scenes of the amphitheatre should sympathizewith the sorrows of a hero in tragedy, it was almost impossible thattragedy should flourish when Rome itself was a theatre in which scenesof horror were daily enacted.

Either then, or not long before, the terrible domination of Cinna andMarius had begun. Massacre and violence raged through the streets ofRome. The best and noblest fell victims to the raging thirst for blood.The aged Marius, distracted by unscrupulous ambition and savagepassions, died amidst the delirious ravings of remorse, and thus madeway for the tyranny of his perjured accomplice Cinna. Still there was norespite or interruption. The cruel Sulla sent his orders from Antemnæ toslaughter 8,000 prisoners in cold blood. The massacre had hardly begunwhen he himself arrived, had taken his place in the Senate; and theshrieks of his murdered victims were audible in the house whilst he wascoolly speaking. This was the beginning of horrors: the notoriousproscription followed. Besides other victims, 5,600 Roman knightsperished.

Amidst such scenes as these, the voice of the tragic muse was hushed.Depending for her very existence on the breath of popular favour, shenecessarily could not find supporters, and so languished and wassilenced. It might appear surprising that literature of any kind shouldhave lived through such times of savage barbarism. But other literatureis not dependent upon public patronage: it finds a refuge beneath theshelter of the private dwelling. The literary man finds friends andpatrons amongst those who, devoted to the humanities of intellectualpursuits, shuns the scenes of revolutionary strife and the struggles ofselfish ambition. Even Sulla himself had a polished and refined taste;and, when he resigned the Dictatorship, passed those hours of retirementin literary studies which were not devoted to depravity andlicentiousness.

The style in which the Roman theatres were built, indicate that whatevertaste for tragedy the Roman people possessed had now decayed. The hugeedifice erected by Pompey was too vast for the exhibition of tragedy.The forty thousand spectators which it contained could scarcely hear theactor, still less could they see the expression of human passions andemotions. The two theatres, placed on pivots, back to back, so that theycould be wheeled round and form one vast amphitheatre, show how aninterest in the drama was shared with the passion for spectacle; andprovision was thus publicly made for gratifying that corrupt taste whichhad arrived at its zenith in the time of Horace, and, as we have seen,interrupted even comedy so early as the times of Terence.

 SATIRE.

The invention of satire is universally attributed to the Romans, andthis assertion is true as far as the external form is concerned; but thespirit of satire is found in many parts of the literature of Greece. Itanimated the Homeric Margites, the poem on woman by Simonides, thebitter lyrical iambics of Archilochus, Stesichorus’ attack on Helen, andespecially, as Horace says, the old comedy of Eupolis, Cratinus, andAristophanes. Some resemblance may also be discerned between Romansatire and the Greek Silli, poems belonging to the declining period ofGreek literature,[276] the design of which was to attack vice and follywith severe ridicule.[277]

Satire is, in fact, if Horace may be believed, the form which comedytook amongst the people with whom the drama did not flourish. Ennius wasthe inventor of the name, but Lucilius[278] was the father of satire, inthe proper sense, and was at Rome what the writers of the old comedywere at Athens. It subsequently occupied a wider field: Persius andJuvenal confined themselves to its didactic purpose, but Horace made ita vehicle for the narration of amusing adventure, and picturesquedescriptions of human life.

The Satires of Lucilius mark an era in Roman literature, and prove thata love for this species of poetry had already made great progress.Hitherto, science, literature, and art, had been considered the provinceof slaves and freedmen. The stern old Roman virtue despised suchsedentary and inactive employment as intellectual cultivation, andthought it unworthy of the warrior and statesman. Some of the higherclasses loved literature and patronised it, but did not make it theirpursuit. Cato blamed M. Fulvius Nobilior for being accompanied by poetswhen he proceeded to his provincial government,[279] and did not untiladvanced in years undertake to study Greek.[280] C. Lucilius was bybirth of equestrian rank, the first Roman knight who was himself apoet.[281] He was born at Suessa Aurunca, B. C. 148,[282] and lived tothe age of forty-six years.[283] At fourteen, he served under Scipio atthe siege of Numantia.[284] He was the maternal great-uncle of Pompey,and numbered amongst his friends and patrons, Africanus and Lælius. HisSatires were comprised in thirty books, of which the first twenty andthe thirtieth were written in hexameters, the rest in iambics ortrochaics. Numerous fragments are still extant, some of considerablelength. The Satires were probably arranged according to theirsubject-matter; for those in the first book are on topics connected withreligion, whilst those in the ninth treat of literary and grammaticalcriticism. His versification is careless and unrefined; very inferior inthis respect to that of his predecessors. He sets at defiance the lawsof prosody, and almost returns to the usage of that period in which theear was the only judge.

The prejudices of Horace[285] against the ancient Roman literaturerender him an unsafe guide in criticism. Even in his own time hisattacks were considered by some indefensible; but his strictures on thestyle of Lucilius are not undeserved; it was unmusical, affected, andincorrect. His sentences are frequently ill-arranged, and thereforedeficient in perspicuity. His mixture of Greek and Latin expressions,without that skill and art with which Horace considered it allowable toenrich the vernacular language, is itself offensive to good taste, andis rendered still more disagreeable by unnecessary diminutives andforced alliteration. On these grounds, and on these alone, he merits thecontemptuous criticism of Horace.

His real defect was want of facility; and it is not improbable that, ifprose had been considered a legitimate vehicle, he would have preferredpouring forth in that unrestricted form his indignant eloquence, ratherthan that, as Horace says, every verse should have cost him manyscratchings of the head, and biting his nails to the quick. Whilst thecriticism of Horace errs on the side of severity, that of Cicero[286] issomewhat too partial: firstly, because he himself was deficient inpoetical facility; secondly, because in his time there were no models ofperfection wherewith to compare the works of Lucilius. The judgment ofQuintilian[287] is moderate; and although the taste for poetry was thencorrupted by a love of quietness and rhetorical affectation, the praiseis well merited which he bestows on the frank honesty and biting wit ofthe Satires of Lucilius. As he took the writers of old Attic comedy forhis models, it cannot be a matter of surprise that he occasionally addedforce to his attacks on vice by coarseness and personality. Like them,if Lucilius found any one who deserved rebuke for his crimes, he did nottrouble himself to make general remarks, and to attack vice in theabstract, but to illustrate his principles by living examples.

The education of Lucilius had probably been desultory, and his course ofstudy not sufficiently strict to give the rich young Roman knight theaccurate training, the critical knowledge, necessary to make him a poetas well as a satirist. It had given him learning and erudition—it hadfurnished him with the wealth of two languages, both of which he usedwhenever he thought they supplied him with a two-edged weapon—but it hadnot sufficiently cultivated his ear and refined his taste. On the otherhand, his Satires must have possessed nobler qualities than those ofstyle. He was evidently a man of high moral principle, though stern andstoical, devotedly attached to the cause of virtue, a relentless enemyof vice and profligacy, a gallant and fearless defender of truth andhonesty. He must have felt with Juvenal, “difficile est satiram nonscribere.” He was under an obligation which he could not avoid. Whatcared he for correct tetrameters, or heroics, or senarii, so that hecould crush effeminacy, and gluttony, and self-indulgence, and restorethe standard of ancient morals, to which he looked back with admiration?

This chivalrous devotion inspired him with eloquence, and gave a dignityto his rude verses, although it did not invest them with the graces andcharms of poetry. Nor is it only when he declares open war againstcorruption that he must have made his adversaries tremble, or hisvictims, conscience-stricken, writhe beneath his knife. His encomiumsupon virtue form as striking pictures; but in both it is the masterlyoutline of the drawing which amazes and instructs, not the mereaccessory of the colouring. See, for example, the following noblepassage, with its unselfish conclusion, preserved by Lactantius:[288]—

 Virtus, Albine, est pretium persolvere verum Queis in versamur, queis vivimu’ rebu’ potesse. Virtus est homini scire id quod quæque habeat res. Virtus, scire homini rectum, utile, quid sit honestum, Quæ bona, quæ mala item quid inutile turpe inhonestum. Virtus, quærendæ finem rei scire modumque; Virtus, divitiis pretium persolvere posse. Virtus, id dare quod reipsa debetur honori, Hostem esse atque inimicum hominum morumque malorum; Contra, defensorem hominum morumque bonorum; Magnificare hos, his bene velle, his vivere amicum; Commoda præterea patriai prima putare, Deinde parentum, tertia jam postremaque nostra.

Had they been extant, we should have found useful information andinstruction in his faithful pictures of Roman life and manners in theirstate of moral transition—amusement in such pieces as his journal of aprogress from Rome to Capua, from which Horace borrowed the idea of hisjourney to Brundisium, whilst in his love poems, addressed to hismistress, Collyra, we should have traced the tender sympathies of humannature, which the sternness of stoicism was unable to overcome.

Besides satire, Lucilius is said to have attempted lyric poetry: if thisbe the case, it is by no means surprising that no specimens have stoodthe test of time, for he possessed none of the qualifications of a lyricpoet.

After the death of Lucilius, satire languished. Varro Atacinus attemptedit and failed.[289] Half a century subsequently it assumed a new garb inthe descriptive scenes of Horace, and put forth its original vigour inthe burning thoughts of Persius and Juvenal.

 LÆVIUS.

This literary period was entirely destitute of lyric poetry, unlessNiebuhr is correct in supposing that Lævius flourished contemporaneouslywith Lucilius.[290] Nothing is known of his history; and suchuncertainty prevails respecting him that his name is constantlyconfounded with those of Livius and Nævius. It is not improbable, thatsome passages attributed to them, which appear to belong to a laterliterary age, are, in reality, the work of Lævius—for example, thehexameters which are found in the Latin Odyssey of Livius. He translatedthe Cyprian poems, and wrote some fugitive amatory pieces entitledErotopægnia. They seem to have possessed neither the graceful simplicitynor the tender warmth which are essential to lyric poetry, although theyperhaps attained as great elegance of expression as the state of thelanguage then admitted. Short fragments are preserved by Apuleius and inthe _Noctes Atticæ_ of A. Gellius.[291]

 CHAPTER X.

PROSE LITERATURE—PROSE SUITABLE TO ROMAN GENIUS—HISTORY, JURISPRUDENCE,AND ORATORY—PREVALENCE OF GREEK—Q. FABIUS PICTOR—L. CINCIUS ALIMENTUS—C.ACILIUS GLABRIO—VALUE OF THE ANNALISTS—IMPORTANT LITERARY PERIOD, DURING

 WHICH CATO CENSORIUS FLOURISHED—SKETCH OF HIS LIFE—HIS CHARACTER, GENIUS, AND STYLE.

Prose was far more in accordance with the genius of the Romans thanpoetry. As a nation they had little or no ideality or imaginative power,no enthusiastic love of natural beauty, no acute perception of thesympathy and relation existing between man and the external world. Inthe Greek mind a love of country and a love of nature held a dividedempire—they were poets as well as patriots. Roman patriotism had indeedits dark side—an unbounded lust of dominion, an unscrupulous ambition toextend the power and glory of the republic; but, nevertheless, itprompted a zealous devotion to whatever would promote nationalindependence and social advancement. Statesmanship, therefore, and thesubjects akin to it, constituted the favourite civil pursuit of anenlightened Roman, who sought a distinguished career of publicusefulness; and, therefore, that literature which tended to advance thescience of social life had a charm for him which no other literaturepossessed.

The branches of knowledge which would engage his attention were History,Jurisprudence, and Oratory. They would be studied with a view toutility, and in a practical spirit they would require a scientific andnot an artistic treatment; and, therefore, their natural language wouldbe prose and not poetry. As matter was more valued than manner by thisutilitarian people, it was long before it was thought necessary toembellish prose literature with the graces of composition. The earliestorators spoke with a rude and vigorous eloquence which is alwayscaptivating: they wrote but little; their style was stiff and dry, andvery inferior to their speaking. Cato’s prose was less rugged than thatof his contemporaries or even his immediate successors. Sisenna was thefirst historian to whom gracefulness and polish have been attributed;and C. Gracchus is spoken of as a single exception to the orators of hisage, on account of the rhythmical modulation of his prose sentences—aquality which he probably owed not more to a delicate ear than to thesoftening influence of a mother’s education. Even the prose of thatcelebrated model of refinement and good taste, C. Lælius, was harsh andunmusical.[292]

Besides the influence which the practical character of the Roman mindexercised upon prose writing, it must not be forgotten that Romanliterature was imitative: its end and object, therefore, were notinvention, but erudition; it depended for its existence on learning, andwas almost synonymous with it. This principle gave a decidedlyhistorical bias to the Roman intellect: an historical taste pervades agreat portion of the national literature. There is a manifest tendencyto study subjects in an historical point of view. It will be seenhereafter that it is not like the Greek, original and inventive, buterudite and eclectic. The historic principle is the great characteristicfeature of the Roman mind; consequently, in this branch of literature,the Romans attained the highest reputation, and may fairly stand forthas competitors with their Greek instructors. Not that they ever entirelyequalled them; for though they were practical, vigorous, and justthinkers, they never attained that comprehensive and philosophicalspirit which distinguished the Greek historians.

The work of an historian was, in the earliest times, recognised as notunworthy of a Roman. It was not like the other branches of literature,in which the example was first set by slaves and freedmen. Those whofirst devoted themselves to the pursuit were also eminent in the publicservice of their country. Fabius Pictor was of an illustrious patricianfamily. Cincius Alimentus, Fulvius Nobilior, and others, were of freeand honourable birth. Such were Roman historians until the time ofSulla; for L. Otacilius Pilitus, who flourished at that period, was thefirst freedman who began to write history.[293][294]

Again, the science of jurisprudence formed an indispensable part ofstatesmanship. It was a study which recommended itself by its practicalnature: it could not be stigmatized even by the busiest as an idle andfrivolous pursuit, whilst the constitutional relation which subsistedbetween patron and client, rendered the knowledge of its principles, toa certain extent, absolutely necessary. Protection from wrong was thegreatest boon which the strong could confer upon the weak, the learnedon the unlearned. It was, therefore, the most efficacious method ofgaining grateful and attached friends; and by their support, the directpath was opened to the highest political positions. It is not,therefore, to be wondered at that, even when elegant literature was inits infancy, so many names are found of men illustrious as jurists andlawyers.

Practical statesmanship, in like manner, gave an early encouragement tooratory. It is peculiarly the literature of active life. The possessionof eloquence rendered a man more efficient as a soldier and as acitizen. Great as is the force of native, unadorned eloquence, vigorouscommon sense, honest truthfulness, and indignant passion, nature wouldgive way to art as taste became more cultivated. Nor could the Romanslong have the finished models of Greek eloquence before their eyes,without transferring to the forum or the senate-house somewhat of theirsimple grandeur and majestic beauty.

The first efforts of the Roman historians were devoted to the transferof the records of poetry into prose, as their more appropriate andpopular vehicle. The national lays which tradition had handed down werethe storehouses which they ransacked to furnish a supply of materials.As far as the records of authentic history are concerned, they performedthe functions of simple annalists: they related events almost in thestyle of public monuments, without any attempt at ornament, withoutpicturesque detail or political reflection. When Cicero compares thestyle of Fabius Pictor, Cato, and Piso, to that of the old Greeklogographers,[295] Pherecydes, Hellanicus, and Acusilaus, the points ofresemblance which he instances are, that both neglected ornament, werecareful only that their statements should be intelligible, and thoughtthe chief excellence of a writer was brevity. Probably thesubject-matter of the Roman annalists was the more valuable, whilst theGreeks had the advantage in liveliness and skill. Some of the earliesthistorians wrote in Greek instead of Latin. Even, in later times, suchmen as Sulla and Lucullus, and also Cn. Aufidius, who flourished duringthe boyhood of Cicero, wrote their memoirs in a foreign tongue. Therewas some reason for this. The language in which the higher classesreceived their education was Greek—the tutors, even the nurses, wereGreek, as well as the librarians, secretaries, and confidential servantsin most distinguished families. Such was the humanizing spirit ofliterature that these distinguished foreigners found an asylum in thehouseholds of noble Romans, notwithstanding the severity with which thelaw treated prisoners of war. Fashionable conversation, moreover, wasinterlarded with Greek phrases, and, in some houses, Greek washabitually spoken. Even so late as the times of Cicero,[296] Greekliterature was read and studied in almost every part of the civilizedworld, while the works of Latin writers were only known within thecircumscribed limits of Italy.

 Q. FABIUS PICTOR.

The most ancient prose writer of Roman history was Q. Fabius Pictor, thecontemporary of Nævius. He belonged to that branch of the noble house ofthe Fabii, which derived its distinguishing appellation from theeminence of its founder as a painter. The temple of Salus, which hepainted, was dedicated B. C. 302, by the dictator, C. Junius Bubulcus;and this oldest known specimen of Roman fine art remained until theconflagration of the temple in the reign of Claudius. It must,therefore, have been subjected to the criticisms of an age capable offorming a correct judgment respecting its merits; and it appears fromthe testimony of antiquity to have possessed the two essentials ofaccurate drawing and truthful colouring, and to have been free from thefault of conventional treatment.[297]

The Fabii were an intellectual family as well as a distinguished one:perhaps the numerous records of their exploits which exist were, in somedegree, owing to their learning. The grandson of the eminent artist wasFabius Pictor the historian. Livy[298] continually refers to him, andthroughout his narrative of the Hannibalian war, he professes implicitconfidence in him on the grounds of his being a contemporaryhistorian,[299] (_æqualem temporibus hujusce belli_;) he is likewise theauthority on whom the greatest reliance was placed by Dion Cassius andAppian. Nor did the accurate and faithful Polybius consider himotherwise than trustworthy upon the whole, although he accuses him ofpartiality towards his countrymen.[300] Niebuhr[301] attributes toFabius Pictor the accurate knowledge of constitutional history displayedby Dion Cassius, and acknowledges how deeply we are indebted to him forthe information which we possess concerning the changes which took placein the Roman constitution. It is to his care that we owe thefaithfulness of Dion, whilst Dionysius and Livy too often lead usastray. It constitutes some justification of his partiality as anhistorian, that Philinus of Agrigentum had also written a history of thefirst Punic war in a spirit hostile to Rome, and that this provokedPictor to a defence of his country’s honour. His work was written inGreek, and its principal subject was a history of the first and secondPunic wars, especially that against Hannibal. It has been held by some,on the authority of a passage in the “De Oratore” of Cicero,[302] thathe wrote in Latin as well as in Greek; but Niebuhr believes that Cicerois in error, and has confused him with a Latin annalist, named F. Max.Servilianus. The period to which his work extended is uncertain; but thelast event alluded to by Livy, on his authority, is the battle ofTrasymenus,[303] and the last occasion on which he mentions his name iswhen he records his return from an embassy to Delphi in the followingyear.[304] The earlier history of Rome was prefixed by way ofintroduction; for his object was not merely to assist in constructingthe rising edifice of Roman literature, but to spread the glory of hiscountry throughout that other great nation of antiquity, which now, forthe first time, came in contact with a worthy rival. The pontificalannals, the national ballads, the annals of his own house, so rich inlegendary tales of heroism, furnished him with ample materials; but heis also said to have drawn largely on the stores of a Greek author,named Diocles, a native of Peparethus, who had preceded him in the workof research and accumulation.

 L. CINCIUS ALIMENTUS.

Contemporary with Fabius was the other annalist of the second Punic war,L. Cincius Alimentus. He was prætor in Sicily[305] in the ninth year ofthe war, and took a prominent part in it.[306] The soldiers who foughtat Cannæ[307] were placed at his disposal, his period of command wasprolonged, and after his return home he was sent as _legatus_ to theconsul Crispinus, on the occasion of the melancholy death of hiscolleague, Marcellus.[308] Some time after this, he was taken prisonerby Hannibal.[309] Like Fabius, he wrote his work in Greek, and prefixedto it a brief abstract of early Roman history.[310] Livy speaks of himas a diligent antiquarian, and appeals to his authority to establish theEtruscan origin of the custom of the dictator driving a nail into thetemple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.[311] As his accurate investigation oforiginal monuments gives a credibility to his early history, so hisbeing personally engaged in the war in a high position, renders himtrustworthy in the later periods. It is also said that, when he was aprisoner of war, Hannibal, who delighted in the society of literary men,treated him with great kindness and consideration, and himselfcommunicated to him the details of his passage across the Alps intoItaly.

To him, therefore, and to the opportunities which he enjoyed of gaininginformation, we owe the credibility of this portion of Livy’shistory[312] on a point on which authors were at variance, namely, thenumber of Hannibal’s forces at this time. Livy appeals to the statementof Cincius as settling the question, and says, Hannibal himself informedCincius how many troops he had lost between the passage of the Rhone andhis descent into Italy.

His accurate habit of mind must have made his annals a most valuablework; and, therefore, it was most important that the variation of hisearly chronology from that which is commonly received should beexplained and reconciled. This task Niebuhr has satisfactorilyaccomplished. He supposes that Cincius took cyclical years of tenmonths, which were used previous to the reign of Tarquinius Priscus, inthe place of common years of twelve months. The time which had elapsedbetween the building of Rome and this epoch was, according to thepontifical annals, 132 years. The error, therefore, due to thismiscalculation would be 132 - (132 + 10) / 12 = 22 years. If this beadded to the common date of the building of Rome, B. C. 753 = Ol. vii.2, the result is the date given by Cincius, namely Ol. vii. 4.[313]

 C. ACILIUS GLABRIO.

A few words may be devoted to C. Acilius Glabrio, the thirdrepresentative of the Græco-Roman historic literature. Very little isknown respecting him. He was quæstor A. U. C. 551, tribune A. U. C. 557,and subsequently attained senatorial rank; for Gellius[314] relatesthat, when the three Athenian philosophers visited Rome as ambassadors,Acilius introduced them to the senate and acted as interpreter. Hisstory was considered worthy of translation by an author named Claudius,and to this translation reference is twice made by Livy.[315]

Valuable though the works of these annalists must have been ashistorical records, and as furnishing materials for more thoughtful andphilosophical minds, they are only such as could have existed in theinfancy of a national literature. They were a bare compilation of facts,the mere scaffolding and framework of history; they were diversified byno critical remarks or political reflections. The authors made no use oftheir facts, either to deduce or to illustrate principles. With respectto style, they were meager, insipid, and jejune.

 M. PORCIUS CATO CENSORIUS.

The versatility and variety of talent displayed by Cato claim for him aplace amongst orators, jurists, economists, and historians. It is,however, amongst the latter, as representatives of the highest branch ofprose literature, that we must speak of the author of the “Origines.”His life extends over a wide and important period of literary history:everything was in a state of change—morals, social habits, literarytaste. Not only the influence of Greek literature, but also that of themoral and metaphysical creed of Greek philosophy, was beginning to befelt when Cato’s manly and powerful intellect was flourishing. When hefilled the second public office to which the Roman citizen aspired,Nævius was still living. He was censor when Plautus died; and, beforehis own life ended, the comedies of Terence had been exhibited on theRoman stage.

Three political events took place during his lifetime, which must haveexercised an important influence on the mental condition of the Romanpeople. When Macedonia, at the defeat of Perseus,[316] was reduced tothe condition of a Roman province, nearly a thousand Achæans, amongstwhom was the historian Polybius, were sent to Rome, and detained inItaly as hostages during nearly seventeen years. The thirteenth yearfrom that event witnessed the dawn of philosophy at Rome, for previouslyto this epoch, the philosophical schools of Magna Græcia appear to havebeen unnoticed and disregarded. But now[317] Carneades the academic,Critolaus the peripatetic, and Diogenes the stoic,[318] came to Rome asambassadors from Athens, and delivered philosophical lectures, whichattracted the attention of the leading statesmen, whilst the doctrineswhich they taught excited universal alarm. The following year Cratesarrived as ambassador from Attalus, king of Pergamus, and during hisstay delighted the literary society of the capital with commentaries onthe Greek poets.[319] It is not surprising that one who lived through aperiod during which Greek literature had such favourable opportunitiesof being propagated by some of its most distinguished professors,sufficiently overcame his prejudices as to learn in his old age thelanguage of a people whom he both hated and despised.

M. Porcius Cato Censorius was born at Tusculum, B. C. 234.[320] Hisfamily was of great antiquity, and numbered amongst its members many whowere distinguished for their courage in war and their integrity inpeace. His boyhood was passed in the healthy pursuits of rural life, ata small Sabine farm belonging to his father; and his mind, invigoratedby stern and hardy training, was early directed to the study as well asthe practice of agriculture. To this rugged yet honest discipline may betraced the features of his character as displayed in after life, hisprejudices as well as his virtues.

He became a soldier at a very early age, B. C. 217, served in theHannibalian war, was under the command of Fabius Maximus both inCampania and Tarentum, and did good service at the decisive battle ofthe Metaurus. Between his campaigns he did not seek to exhibit hislaurels in the society of the capital, but, like Curius Dentatus andQuintius Cincinnatus, employed himself in the rural labours of hisSabine retirement.

His shrewd remarks and easy conversation, as well as the skill withwhich he pleaded the causes of his clients before the rural magistracy,soon made his abilities known, and his reputation attracted the noticeof one of his country neighbours, L. Valerius Flaccus, who invited himto his town-house at Rome. Owing to the patronage of his noble friend,and his own merits, his rise to eminence as a pleader was rapid. He wasa quæstor in B. C. 206, ædile in B. C. 199, prætor the following year,and in B. C. 195 he obtained the consulship, his patron Flaccus beingnow his colleague. His province was Spain;[321] and, whilst stern andpitiless towards his foes, he exhibited a noble example of self-denyingendurance in order to minister to the welfare of his army. At theconclusion of his consulship, he served as legatus in Thrace and Greece;and in B. C. 189 was sent on a civil mission to Fulvius Nobilior inÆtolia.

After experiencing one failure, he was elected censor in B. C. 184; andhe had now an opportunity of making a return for the obligations whichhis earliest patron had conferred upon him; for, by his influence,Flaccus was appointed his colleague. This office was, above all others,suited to his talents; and to his remarkable activity in the dischargeof his duties, he owes his fame and his surname.

He had now full scope for displaying his habits of business, his talentsfor administration, his uncompromising resistance to all luxury andextravagance, his fearlessness in the reformation of abuses: and thoughhe was severe, public opinion bore testimony to his integrity, for hewas rewarded with a statue and an inscription. He had now served hiscountry in every capacity, but still he gave himself no rest; advancingage did not weaken his energies; he was always ready as the champion ofthe oppressed, the advocate of virtue, the punisher of vice. Heprosecuted the extortionate governors of his old province, Spain.[322]He pleaded before the senate the cause of the loyal Rhodians.

He caused the courteous dismissal of the three Greek philosophers,because the arguments of Carneades made it difficult to discern what wastruth.[323] Although his prejudice against Greeks prevented himsympathizing with the sorrows of the Achæan exiles, he supported thevote for their restoration to their native land. Neither his enemies norhis country would allow him rest. In his eighty-sixth year, he had todefend himself against a capital charge. In his eighty-ninth, he wassent to Africa as one of the arbitrators between the Carthaginians andMassinissa,[324] and in his ninetieth, the year in which he died,[325]his last public act was the prosecution of Galba for his perfidioustreatment of the conquered Lusitanians.[326]

Cato loved strife, and his long life was one continued combat. He neverfound a task too difficult, because difficulty called forth all hisenergies, and his strong will and invincible perseverance insuredsuccess. His inherent love of truth made him hate anything conventional.As a politician, he considered rank valueless, except it depended uponpersonal merit; and therefore he was an unrelenting enemy of thearistocracy. As a moralist, he indignantly rejected that false gloss ofmodern fashion which was superseding the old plainness, and which was,in his opinion, the foundation of his country’s glory. In literature, hedistrusted and condemned every thing Greek, because he confounded thesentiments of its noblest periods as a nation with those of thedegenerate Greeks with whom he came in contact. But, at length, hiscandid and truthful disposition discovered and confessed his error onthis point, and his prejudices gave way before conviction.

Cato, with all his virtues, was a hard-hearted man.[327] He had noamiability, no love, no affection; he did not love right, for he lovednothing; but he had a burning indignation against wrong. This was themainspring of his conduct. He did not feel for the oppressed, but hedeclared war against the oppressor. He never could sympathize withliving men. In his youth, all his admiration was for the pastgeneration. In his old age, his feeling was that his life had been spentwith the past, and he had nothing in common with the present.

As is usually the case with those who live during a period oftransition, his feelings were so interested in that past by which hischaracter was formed, that he was incapable of discerning any goodwhatever in change and progress. For this reason he dreaded the invasionof refinement and civilization. Accustomed to connect virtue and puritywith the absence of temptations, he was prepared to take an exaggeratedview of the relation between polish and effeminacy, between a taste forthe beautiful and luxury.

He was a bitter hater of those who opposed his prejudices. His enmity toCarthage sprung much more from his antagonism to Scipio, as the leaderof the Greek or movement party, than from fears for the safety of Rome.Scipio said, Let Carthage be; therefore Cato’s will was, let Carthage bedestroyed. When his hatred of injustice was aroused, as, for example, bythe perfidy of S. Sulpicius Galba towards the Lusitanians, he couldsupport the cause of foreigners against a fellow-countryman. Hischaracter is full of apparent inconsistencies. Although he hatedoppression, he was cruel to his slaves; tyrannical and implacable,simply because he would not brook opposition to his will. His integritywas incorruptible, and yet he was a grinding usurer; frugal in hishabits, and notwithstanding his few wants, grasping and avaricious; butit was his love of business that he was gratifying, rather than a loveof money. Trade was with him a combat in which he would not allow anadvantage to be gained by his adversary. Virtue did not present itselfto Cato in an amiable form. He had but one idea of it—austerity; and, ashis hatred of wrong was not counterbalanced by a love of right, theintensity of his hatred was only kept in check by the practical goodsense and utilitarian views which occupy so prominent a place in theRoman character. Being himself reserved and undemonstrative, he expectedothers to be so likewise, and thought it unbecoming the dignity of aRoman to exhibit tenderness of feeling. On one occasion we are told thathe degraded a Roman knight for embracing his wife in the presence of hisdaughter. His personal appearance was not more prepossessing than hismanners, as we learn from the following severe epigram:—[328]

 Πυῤῥὸν, πανδακέτην, γλαυκόμματον, οὐδὲ θανόντα Πόρκιον εἰς ἀΐδην Περσεφόνη δέχεται.

 With his red hair, constant snarl, and gray eyes, Proserpine would not receive Porcius, even after death, into Hades.

As, notwithstanding his defects, Cato was morally the greatest man everRome produced, so he was one of the greatest intellectually. His geniuswas perfectly original; his character was not moulded by other men; hehad no education except self-education. He had immense power ofacquiring learning, and he ransacked every source to increase hisstores; but he was indebted to no man for his opinions—they wereself-formed, except those which he inherited, and in which his ownindependent convictions led him to acquiesce. He had the ability and thedetermination to excel in everything which he undertook, politics, war,rural economy, oratory, history. His style is rude, unpolished,ungraceful, because to him wit was artifice, and polish superficial, andtherefore unreal. For this reason he did not profit by the inconceivablyrapid change which was then taking place in the Latin language, andwhich is evident from the comparison of the fragments of Cato’s workswith the polished comedies of Terence.

His statements, however, were clear and transparent; his illustrations,though quaint, were striking; the words with which he enriched hisnative tongue were full of meaning; his wit was keen and lively,although he never would permit it to offend against gravity, or partakeof irreverence.[329] His arguments went straight to the intellect, andcarried conviction with them.

The character of Cato forms one of the most beautiful passages in theworks of Livy:[330] “In hoc viro tanta vis animi ingeniique fuit, ut,quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam sibi ipse facturus fuissevideretur. Nulla ars, neque privatæ, neque publicæ rei gerendæ, eidefuit. Urbanas rusticasque res pariter callebat. Ad summos honoresalios scientia juris, alios eloquentia, alios gloria militaris provexit.Huic versatile ingenium sic pariter ad omnia fuit, ut natum ad id unumdiceres, quodcunque ageret. In bello manu fortissimus, multisqueinsignibus clarus pugnis; idem, postquam ad magnos honores pervenit,summus imperator: idem in pace, si jus consuleres, peritissimus; sicausa oranda esset, eloquentissimus. Nec is tantum, cujus lingua vivo eoviguerit, monumentum eloquentiæ nullum exstet: vivit immo vigetqueeloquentia ejus, sacrata scriptis omnis generis. Orationes et pro semultæ, et pro aliis et in alios; nam non solum accusando, sed etiamcausam dicendo, fatigavit inimicos. Simultates nimio plures etexercuerunt eum, et ipse exercuit eas; nec facile dixeris, utrum magispresserit eum nobilitas, an ille agitaverit nobilitatem. Asperiproculdubio animi, et linguæ acerbæ, et immodice liberæ fuit; sedinvicti a cupiditatibus animi, et rigidæ innocentiæ; contemptor gratiædivitiarum. In parsimonia, in patientia laboris, periculi, ferrei propecorporis animique; quam neque senectus quidem, quæ solvit omnia,fregerit. Qui sextum et octogesimum annum agens causam dixerit, ipse prose oraverit, scripseritque; nonagesimo anno Ser. Galbam ad populiadduxerit judicium.”

 CHAPTER XI. THE ORIGINES OF CATO—PASSAGE QUOTED BY GELLIUS—TREATISE DE RE RUSTICA—ORATIONS—L. CASSIUS HEMINA—HISTORIANS IN THE DAYS OF THE GRACCHI—TRADITIONAL ANECDOTE OF ROMULUS—AUTOBIOGRAPHERS—FRAGMENT OF QUADRIGARIUS—FALSEHOODS OF ANTIAS—SISENNA—TUBERO.

Cato’s great historical and antiquarian work, “The Origines,” waswritten in his old age.[331] Its title would seem to imply that it wasmerely an inquiry into the ancient history of his country; but inreality it comprehended far more than this—it was a history of Italy andRome from the earliest times to the latest events which occurred in hisown lifetime. The contents of the work are thus described by CorneliusNepos.[332] It is divided into seven books. The first treats of thehistory of the kings; the second and third of the rise and progress ofthe Italian states; the fourth contains the first Punic war; the fifththe war with Hannibal; the remaining two the history of the subsequentwars down to the prætorship of Servius Galba.

It was a work of great research and originality. For his archæologicalinformation, he had consulted the records and documents, not only ofRome, but of the principal Italian towns. It is probable that theirconstitutional history was introduced incidentally to the mainnarrative; and that the rise and progress of the Roman constitution wasillustrated by the political principles of the Italian nations. The“Origines” also contained valuable notices respecting the history andconstitution of Carthage,[333] his embassy having furnished him withfull opportunity for collecting materials. It was, in fact, a uniquework: no other Roman historian wrote in the same spirit, or was equallylaborious in the work of original investigation.

The truthfulness and honesty of Cato must have rendered the contemporarypart of the history equally valuable with the antiquarian portion. Hecould not have been guilty of flattery, he had no regard for thefeelings of individuals. Not only he never mentions himself, but, exceptin times long gone by, he never names any one.[334] The glory of avictory, or of a gallant exploit, belongs to the general, or consul, ortribune, as the representative of the republic. He does not allow eitherindividual or family to participate in that which he considered theexclusive property of his country.

Sufficient fragments of the “Origines” remain to make us regret thatmore have not been preserved; but though very numerous, they are, withthe exception of two, excessively brief. One of these is a portion ofhis own speech in favour of the Rhodians;[335] the other a simple andaffecting narrative of an act of self-devoted heroism. A consular armywas surprised and surrounded by the Carthaginians in a defile, fromwhich there was no escape. The tribune, whom Cato does not name, butwho, as A. Gellius informs us, was Cædicius, went to the consul andrecommended him to send four hundred men to occupy a neighbouringheight. The enemy, he added, will attack them, and without doubt theywill be slain to a man. Nevertheless, whilst the enemy is thus occupied,the army will escape. But, replied the consul, who will be the leader ofthis band? I will, said the tribune; I devote my life to you, and to mycountry. The tribune and four hundred men set forth to die. They soldtheir lives dearly, but all fell. “The immortal gods,” adds Cato, forGellius is here quoting his very words, “granted the tribune a lotaccording to his valour. For thus it came to pass. Though he hadreceived many wounds, none proved mortal; and when his comradesrecognised him amongst the dead, faint from loss of blood, they took himup, and he recovered. But it makes a vast difference in what country agenerous action is performed. Leonidas, of Lacedæmon, is praised, whoperformed a similar exploit at Thermopylæ. On account of his valourunited Greece testified her gratitude in every possible way, and adornedhis exploit with monumental records, pictures, statues, eulogies,histories. The Roman tribune gained but faint praise, and yet he haddone the same, and saved the republic.” The most pathetic writer couldnot have told the tale more effectively than the stern Cato.

Circumstances invest his treatise “De Re Rustica” with great interest.The population of Rome, both patrician and plebeian, was necessarilyagricultural. For centuries they had little commerce: their wealthconsisted in flocks and herds, and in the conquered territories ofnations as poor as themselves. The _ager Romanus_, and subsequently asthey gained fresh acquisitions, the fertile plains, and valleys, andmountain sides of Italy, supplied them with maintenance. The statesmanand the general, in the intervals of civil war or military service,returned, like Cincinnatus and Cato, to the cultivation of their fieldsand gardens. The Roman armies were recruited from the peasantry; andwhen the war was over, the soldier returned to his daily labour; and, inlater times, the veteran, when his period of service was completed,became a small farmer in a military colony. To a restless nation, whocould not exist in a state of inactivity, a change of labour wasrelaxation; and the pleasures of rural life, which were so often sung bythe Augustan poets, were heartily enjoyed by the same man whose naturalatmosphere seemed to be either politics or war.

Besides the possession of these rural tastes the Romans were essentiallya domestic people. The Greeks were social; they lived in public; theyhad no idea of home. Woman did not with them occupy a positionfavourable to the existence of home-feeling. The Roman matron was thecentre of the domestic circle; she was her husband’s equal, sometimeshis counsellor, and generally the educator of his children in theirearly years. Hundreds of sepulchral inscriptions bear testimony to thesweet charities of home-life, to the dutiful obedience of children, thedevoted affection of parents, the fidelity of wives, the attachments ofhusbands. Hence, home and all its pursuits and occupations had aninterest in the eyes of a Roman. For this reason there were so manywriters on rural and domestic economy. From Cato to Columella we have alist of authors whose object was instruction in the various branches ofthe subject. They were thus enumerated by Columella himself:[336] “Catowas the first who taught the art of agriculture to speak in Latin; afterhim it was improved by the diligence of the two Sasernæ, father and son;next it acquired eloquence from Scrofa Tremellius; polish from M.Terentius, (Varro;) poetic power from Virgil.” To their illustriousnames he adds those of J. Hyginus, the Carthaginian Mago, Corn. Celsus,J. Atticus, and his disciple J. Græcinus.

The work of Cato, “De Re Rustica,” has come down to us almost in formand substance as it was written. It has not the method of a regulartreatise. It is a commonplace-book of agriculture and domestic economyunder one hundred and sixty-three heads. The subjects are connected, butnot regularly arranged; they form a collection of useful instructions,hints, and receipts. Its object is utility, not science. It serves thepurposes of a farmers’ and gardeners’ manual; a domestic medicine, anherbal, and cookery-book; prudential maxims are interspersed, and somefavourite charms for the cure of diseases in man and beast. Cato teacheshis readers, for example, how to plant ozier-beds, to cultivatevegetables, to preserve the health of cattle, to pickle pork, and tomake savoury dishes. He is shrewd and economical, but he never allowshumanity to interfere with profits; for he recommends his readers tosell every thing which they do not want, even old horses and old slaves.He is a great conjurer, for he informs us that the most potent cure fora sprain is the repetition of the following hocus-pocus:[337] “Dariesdardaries, astataries dissunapitea;” or, “Huat hanat, huat hista, pistasista, domiabo damnaustra;” or, “Huat huat, huat, ista sis tar sis,ordannabon damnaustra.” This miscellaneous collection is preceded by anintroduction, in which is maintained the superiority of agriculture overother modes of gaining a livelihood, especially over that of trade andmoney-lending.

Cato was a conscientious father. He could not trust Greeks, butundertook the education of his son himself. As a part of his system, headdressed to him, in the form of letters, instruction on varioustopics—historical, philosophical, and moral. A very few fragments ofthis work, unfortunately, remain. In one of them he recommends a cursoryview of Greek literature, but not a profound study of it. He evidentlyconsidered Greek writings morally dangerous; but he entertained a stillgreater horror of their medicine. He had confidence in his ownold-fashioned charms and rural pharmacopeia; but he firmly believed, ashe would the voice of an oracle, that all the Greek physicians werebanded together to destroy the Romans as barbarians.

Of the orations of Cato, ninety titles are extant, together withnumerous fragments.[338] Some of these were evidently judicial, but themajority deliberative. After what has been said of his works it isscarcely necessary to describe the style of his eloquence. Unless a manis a mere actor, his character is generally exemplified in his speaking.This is especially true of Cato. He despised art. He was too fearlessand upright, too confident in the justice of his cause, to be arhetorician; too much wrapt up in his subject to be careful of thelanguage in which he conveyed his thoughts. He imitated no one, and noone was ever able to imitate him. His style was abrupt, concise, witty,full of contrast; its beauty that of nature, namely, the rapidalternations of light and shade. Now it was rude and harsh, now patheticand affecting. It was the language of debate—antagonistic, gladiatorial,elenchtic.

Plutarch compares him to Socrates; but he omits the principal point ofresemblance, namely, that he always speaks as if he was hand to handwith an adversary. Even amidst the glitter and polish of the Augustanage, old Cato had some admirers.[339] But this was not the generalfeeling. The intrinsic value of the rough gem was not appreciated.Cicero[340] tells us that, to his astonishment, Cato was almost entirelyunknown. The time afterwards arrived when criticism became a science,and he was estimated as he deserved to be; but this admiration for theantique form was not a revival of the antique spirit; it was only anattempt to compensate for its loss; it was an imitation, not a reality.

Such was the literary position occupied by him whom Niebuhr pronouncesto be the only great man in his generation, and one of the greatest andmost honourable characters in Roman history.[341]

 L. CASSIUS HEMINA.

There was no one worthy to follow Cato as an historian but L. CassiusHemina. A. Postumius Albinus, consul B. C. 151, was, according toCicero,[342] a learned and eloquent man, and wrote a history of Rome inGreek;[343] but it was so inelegant that he apologized on the groundthat he was a Roman writing in a foreign language.[344] It is probable,also, that he was inaccurate and puerile. He tells us, for example, thatBaiæ was so named after Boia, the nurse of one of Æneas’ friends, andthat Brutus used to eat green figs and honey.[345]

Hemina wrote Roman annals in five or six books, and published them aboutthe time of the fall of Carthage:[346] a considerable number offragments are extant. He was the last writer of this period whoinvestigated the original sources of history. His researches went backto very early times; and he appears to have attempted, at least, acomparison of Greek and Italian chronology, for he fixes the age ofHomer and Hesiod in the dynasty of the Silvii, more than 160 years afterthe siege of Troy. He relates the original legend of Cacus and the oxenof Hercules, the finding of Numa’s coffin, and the celebration of thefourth sæcular games in the consulship of Lentulus and Mummius.[347]This was probably the last event of importance previous to thepublication of his work. Only two fragments are of sufficient length toenable us to form any judgment respecting his style. Many of hisexpressions are very archaic, but the story of Cacus is told in a simpleand pleasing manner.

After Hemina, Roman history was, for some years, nothing more than acompilation from the old chronicles, and from the labours andinvestigations of previous authors. Q. Fabius Maximus Servilianus wasconsul A. U. C. 612. His Latin style must have been very deficient ineuphony, if he frequently indulged in such words as _litterosissimum_,which occurs in one of the fragments extant. C. Fannius, prætor A. U. C.617, wrote a meager history[348] in not inelegant Latin. Vennonius, hiscontemporary, was the author of annals which are referred to byDionysius. To this list of historians may be added C. SemproniusTuditanus, a polished gentleman as well as an elegant writer.[349]

The days of the Gracchi were very fruitful in historians andautobiographers. At the head of them stands L. Cælius Antipater,[350] aRoman freedman, an eloquent orator, and skilful jurist. His workconsisted of seven books, and many fragments are preserved by thegrammarians. He seems to have delighted in the marvellous; for Ciceroquotes from two remarkable dreams in his treatise on divination. He isalso frequently referred to by Livy in his history of the Punic wars.

Contemporaneously with Cælius lived Cn. Gellius, whose voluminoushistory extended to the length of ninety-seven books at least. Livyseldom refers to him. Probably, in this instance, he acted wisely; forhe seems to have been an historian of little or no authority. Two otherGellii, Sextus and Aulus, flourished at the same time.

Publius Sempronius Asellio wrote, about the middle of the seventhcentury of Rome, a memoir of the Numantian war. He was an eye-witness ofthe scenes which he describes, for he was tribune at Numantia underScipio Africanus.[351]

The only constitutional history of Rome was the work of C. Junius, whowas surnamed Gracchanus, in consequence of his intimacy with C.Gracchus. It is certain that this work must have been the result oforiginal research, as there are no remains extant of any history whichcould have furnished the materials. The legal and political knowledgewhich it contained was evidently considerable, for it is quoted by thejurists as a trustworthy authority.[352]

Servius Fabius Pictor[353] wrote annals; but his principal work was atreatise on the pontifical law, an antiquarian record of rites andceremonies. L. Calpurnius Piso Frugi Censorius was consul in the year inwhich Ti. Sempronius Gracchus was killed, and censor the year after themurder of C. Gracchus:[354] he is occasionally quoted by Dionysius, andtwice by Livy, who, on the points in question, consider his authorityless trustworthy than that of Fabius Pictor.[355] Gellius[356] quotesfrom him the following traditional anecdote of Romulus. Once upon a timethe king was invited out to supper. He drank very little, because he hadbusiness to transact on the following day. Some one at table remarked,if every body did so, wine would be cheaper. “Nay,” replied Romulus, “Ihave drank as much as I wished; if every body did so, it would be dear.”

Piso was an honest man, but not an honest historian. He acquired thesurname Frugi by his strict integrity and simple habits; but hisingenuity tempted him to disregard historical truth. Niebuhr considershim the first who introduced systematic forgeries into Roman history.Seeing the discrepancies and consistencies between the accounts given byprevious annalists, instead of weighing them together, and adoptingthose which were best supported by the testimony of antiquity, he eitherinvented theories, in order to reconcile conflicting statements, orsubstituted some narrative which he thought might have been thegroundwork of the marvellous legend. Niebuhr observes, that he treatedhistory precisely in the same way in which the rationalists endeavouredto divest the scripture of its miraculous character.

M. Æmilius Scaurus, P. Rutilius Rufus, and Q. Lutatius Catulus, were thefirst Roman autobiographers; and their example was afterwards followedby Sulla, who employed his retirement in writing his own memoir intwenty-two books. Scaurus was the son of a charcoal-dealer, who, by hismilitary talents, twice raised himself to the consulship, and onceenjoyed the honour of a triumph. A few unimportant fragments of hispersonal memoirs are preserved by the grammarians. Rutilius was consulA. U. C. 649: he wrote his own life in Latin, and a history of Rome inGreek.[357] Catulus is praised by Cicero for his Latinity, who compareshis style to that of Xenophon.[358]

The other historians, who flourished immediately before the literaryperiod of Cicero, were C. Licinius Macer, Q. Claudius Quadrigarius, andQ. Valerius Antias.

Macer[359] was a prolix and gossiping writer: he was not deficient inindustry; he spared no pains in collecting traditions; but he had nojudgment in selection, and accepted all the Greek fables respectingItaly without discrimination. Hence he makes some statements which wererejected by annalists of greater authority. Niebuhr[360] defends him,and regrets deeply the loss of his annals. He thinks it not improbablethat Cicero’s unfavourable criticism may have been owing to politicalprejudice. His work was voluminous, and probably traced the Romanhistory from the commencement to his own times.

Quadrigarius is much quoted both by Livy and the grammarians. From thefragments extant it is clear that his history commenced with the Gallicwars; and from a passage in Plutarch’s Life of Numa,[361] he appears tohave been actuated by a motive indicative of his truthfulness as anhistorian. He was not content with fabulous legends; and there were nodocuments in existence anterior to the capture of Rome by the Gauls. Hiswork consisted of twenty-three books: it carried the history, as isgenerally supposed, as far as the death of Sulla,[362] or, as Niebuhrbelieved, down to the consulship of Cicero.[363] The longest fragmentextant has been preserved by Gellius, and relates the combat of ManliusTorquatus with the gigantic Gaul.

The style is abrupt and sententious, and the structure of the sentencesloose; but the story is told in a naïve and spirited manner. One canrealize the scene as the historian describes it—the awe of the Romanhost at the unwonted sight—the gigantic stature, the truculentcountenance of the Goliath-like youth—the unbroken silence, in the midstof which his voice of thunder uttered his defiance—the scorn with whichhe sneered and put out his tongue when no one accepted his challenge—theshame and grief of the noble Manlius—the struggle—the cutting off themonster’s head, and the wreathing his own neck with the collar stillreeking with blood.

It has been suggested that this historian received the surnameQuadrigarius because, in the games of the circus, celebrated after thevictory of Sulla, he won the prize in the chariot-race.

No Roman historian ever made greater pretensions to accuracy thanValerius Antias, and no one was less trustworthy. Livy, on oneoccasion,[364] accuses him of either negligence or impudentexaggeration; but there is no doubt that he was guilty of the latterfault. Almost all the places in which he is quoted by Livy havereference to numbers, and in all he not only goes far beyond all otherhistorians,[365] but even transgresses the bounds of possibility. Livynever hesitates to call him a liar. In all cases he is guilty offalsehood; the only question is whether his falsehood is more or lessmoderate. The following examples are sufficient to convict him. Heundertakes to assert that the exact number of the Sabine virgins was527.[366] If one historian states that 60 engines of war were taken, hemakes the number 6,000;[367] when all authors, Greek and Latin, unite inasserting that in A. U. C. 553, there was no memorable campaign, he saysa battle was fought in which 12,000 of the enemy were slain and 1,200taken prisoners.[368] In another place 10,000 slain become 40,000;[369]and a fine which Quadrigarius states was to be paid by instalments inthirty years, he distributes only over the space of ten.[370] Withmatter of this unauthentic kind, he filled no less than seventy-fivebooks, of which a large portion of passages have been preserved,especially by Livy.

Hitherto, with one doubtful exception, Latin historical composition wasin the hands of the great and noble; the first historian belonging tothe order of the libertinei was L. Otacilius Pilitus. Suetonius[371]says, that he was not only originally a slave, but that he acted asporter, and, as was the custom, was chained to his master’s door.Nothing is known of his works; it is probable, therefore, that they wereof no merit.

Two more important names remain to be mentioned amongst the annalists ofthis period—L. Cornelius Sisenna and Q. Ælius Tubero. Sisenna, accordingto the testimony of Cicero,[372] was born between B. C. 640 and B. C.680, and filled the office of quæstor B. C. 676. He was, according tothe same authority, a man of learning and taste, wrote pure Latin, waswell acquainted with public business, and, although deficient inindustry, surpassed all his predecessors and contemporaries in histalents as an historian. Probably his style of writing approached morenearly to that of the new school, although still below the Ciceronianstandard. The testimony of Sallust is not so favourable, as he considershim not sufficiently impartial to fulfil adequately the duties of acontemporary historian.[373]

No fragments are extant of sufficient length to enable us to form anyestimate of his merits, although, on account of the numerous unusualwords which occur in his writings, no historian of this period has beenmore frequently quoted by the grammarians. The probability is that histwenty-three books are of little or no value, as they are never referredto in order to illustrate matters of historical or antiquarian interest.

Tubero was the contemporary of Cicero, and did not write his annalsuntil after Cicero’s consulship. Nevertheless he must be considered asbelonging to the old school, and its last as well as one of its mostworthy representatives. He was the father of L. Tubero, the legate of Q.Cicero, in Asia. Like Piso, he was a stout opponent of the Gracchicpolicy, and a firm supporter of the aristocracy. A stoic in philosophy,his life was in strict accordance with his creed, and his style ofwriting is said to have been marked with Catonian rudeness. Hedescribes, in his history, the cruel tortures of Regulus by theCarthaginians, and relates the story of the wonderful serpent atBagrada.[374] He is once quoted by Dionysius and twice by Livy.

 CHAPTER XII. EARLY ROMAN ORATORY—ELOQUENCE OF APPIUS CLAUDIUS CÆCUS—FUNERAL ORATIONS—DEFENCE OF SCIPIO AFRICANUS MAJOR—SCIPIO AFRICANUS MINOR ÆMILIANUS—ERA OF THE GRACCHI—THEIR CHARACTERS—INTERVAL BETWEEN THE

GRACCHI AND CICERO—M. ANTONIUS—L. LICINIUS CRASSUS—Q. HORTENSIUS—CAUSES

 OF HIS EARLY POPULARITY AND SUBSEQUENT FAILURE.

Eloquence, though of a rude, unpolished kind, must have been in the veryearliest times a characteristic of the Roman people. It is a plantindigenous to a free soil. Its infancy was nurtured in the schools ofTisias and Corax, when, on the dethronement of the tyrants, the dawn offreedom brightened upon Sicily; and, just as in modern times it hasflourished, especially in England and America, fostered by theunfettered freedom of debate, so it found a congenial home in freeGreece and republican Rome. He who could contrast in the most glowingcolours the cruelty of the pitiless creditor, with the sufferings of theruined debtor—who could ingeniously connect those patent evils with somedefects in the constitution, some inequalities in political rightshitherto hidden and unobserved—would wield at will the affections of thepeople, and become the master-spirit amongst his fellow-citizens.

Occasions would not be wanting in a state where, from the earliesttimes, a struggle was continually maintained between a dominant and asubject race, for the use of those arts of eloquence which nature, themistress of all art, suggests. The plebeians, in their conflicts withthe patricians, must have had some leader, and eloquence, probably to agreat extent, directed the selection, even though there was, in reality,no Menenius Agrippa to lead them back from the sacred mountain with hishomely wisdom. Cases of oppression, doubtless, inspired some Icilius orVirginius with words of burning indignation, and many a SicciusDentatus, though he had never learnt technical rhetoric, used therhetorical artifice of appealing to his honourable wounds and scars infront, which he had received in the service of his country, and todisgraceful weals with which his back was lacerated by the lash of thetorturer. In an army where the personal influence of the general wasmore productive of heroism than the rules of a long-establisheddiscipline, a short harangue often led the soldiers to victory. And,lastly, the relation subsisting between the two orders of patron andclient taught a milder and more business-like eloquence—that ofexplaining with facility common civil rights, and unravelling the knottypoints of the constitutional law. Oratory, in fact, was the unwrittenliterature of active life, and recommended itself by its antagonisticspirit and its utility to a warlike and utilitarian people. Long,therefore, before the art of the historian was sufficiently advanced torecord a speech, or to insert a fictitious one, as an embellishment orillustration of its pages, the forum, senate, the battle-field, thethreshold of the jurisconsult, had been nurseries of Roman eloquence, orschools in which oratory attained a vigorous youth, and prepared for itssubsequent maturity.

Tradition speaks of a speech recorded even before the poetry of Næviuswas written, and this speech was known to Cicero. It was deliveredagainst Pyrrhus by Appius Claudius the blind.[375] He belonged to ahouse, every member of which, from the decemvir to the emperor, was bornto bow down their fellow-men beneath their strong wills. Such acharacter, united with a poetical genius, implies the very elements ofthat oratory which would curb a nation accustomed to be restrained byforce as much as by reason. On this celebrated occasion,[376] the blindold man caused himself to be borne into the senate-house on a litter,that he might confront the wily Cineas whom Pyrrhus had sent tonegotiate peace. The Macedonian minister was an accomplished speaker,and his memory, that important auxiliary to eloquence, was so powerful,that in one day he learnt to address all the senators and knights byname, yet it is said that he was no match for the energy of Appius, andwas obliged to quit Rome.

Whilst the legal and political constitution of the Roman people gavedirect encouragement to deliberative and judicial oratory, respect tothe illustrious dead furnished opportunities for panegyric. The song ofthe bard in honour of the departed warrior gave place to the funeraloration, (_laudatio_.)

Before the commencement of the second Punic war,[377] Q. Metelluspronounced the funeral harangue over his father, the conqueror ofHasdrubal; history also speaks of him as a debator in the senate, andhis address to the censors is found in the fourth decade of Livy.[378]This funeral oration was admired even in the time of J. Cæsar, andPliny[379] has recorded the substance of one remarkable passage which itcontained. The period of the second Punic war produced Corn. Cethegus.Cicero mentions him in his list of Roman orators;[380] and although hehad never seen a specimen of his style, he states that he retained hisforce and vigour even in his old age. Ennius also bears testimony to hiseloquence in the following line:—

 Flos delibatus populi, suaviloquenti ore.

At the conclusion of the second war, Fabius Cunctator pronounced theeulogium[381] of his elder son; and Cicero, although he denies him thepraise of eloquence, states that he was a fluent and correct speaker.

Scipio Africanus Major, on that memorable day when his enemies calledupon him to render an account of the moneys received from Antiochus,proved himself a consummate orator: he disdained to refute the malignantcharges of his opponents, but spoke till dusk of the benefits which hehad conferred upon his country. Thus it came to pass that the adjournedmeeting was held on the anniversary of Zama. Livy has adorned the simplewords of the great soldier with his graceful language, but A.Gellius[382] has preserved the peroration almost in his own words. “Icall to remembrance, Romans,” said he, “that this is the very day onwhich I vanquished in a bloody battle on the plains of Africa theCarthaginian Hannibal, the most formidable enemy Rome ever encountered.I obtained for you a peace and an unlooked-for victory. Let us then notbe ungrateful to heaven, but let us leave this knave, and at once offerour grateful thanksgivings to Jove, supremely good and great.”

The people obeyed his summons—the forum was deserted, and crowdsfollowed him with acclamations to the Capitol.

Mention has already been made of the stern eloquence of his adversaryCato. He was equally laborious as a speaker and a writer. No fewer thanone hundred and fifty of his orations were extant in Cicero’s time, mostof which were on subjects of public and political interest.

The father of the Gracchi was distinguished amongst his contemporariesfor a plain and nervous eloquence, but no specimens of his oratory havesurvived.

Scipio Africanus Minor (Æmilianus) was precisely qualified to be thelink between the new and the old school of oratory. His soldier-likecharacter displayed all the vigour and somewhat of the sternness of theold Roman, but the harder outlines were modified by an ardent love oflearning. His first campaign was in Greece, under his father ÆmiliusPaulus. His first literary friendship was formed there with thehistorian Polybius, which ripened into the closest intimacy whenPolybius came as a hostage to Rome. Subsequently he became acquaintedwith Panætius, who was his instructor in the principles of philosophy.His taste was gratified with Greek refinement, although he abhorred theeffeminacy and profligacy of the Greeks themselves. In the spirit ofCato, for whom he entertained the warmest admiration, he indignantlyremonstrated against the inroad of Greek manners. In his speech inopposition to the law of C. Gracchus, he warned his hearers of thecorruptions which were already insinuating themselves amongst the Romanyouth. “I did not believe what I heard,” he says, “until I witnessed itwith my own eyes: at the dancing-school I saw more than five hundred ofthe youth of both sexes. I saw a boy, of at least twelve years old,wearing the badge of noble birth, who performed a castanet dance, whichan immodest slave could not have danced without disgrace.”

The degeneracy of Greek manners had not corrupted his moral nature, orrendered him averse to the active duties of a citizen; it had notdestroyed the frankness, whilst it had humanized the rough honesty, ofthe Roman, and taught him to love the beautiful as well as the good, andto believe that the former was the proper external development of thelatter.

One friend, whose influence contributed to form the mind of Scipio, wasthe wise and gentle Lælius. In other places, as well as in the “_deAmicitia_,” Cicero associates their names together. These distinguishedfriends were well suited to each other. The sentiments of both werenoble and elevated. “Both,” as Cicero[383] says, “were ‘_imprimiseloquentes_.’” Their discrepancies were such as draw men of similartastes more closely together, in those hours which they can devote totheir favourite pursuits. Scipio was an active man of business—Lælius, acontemplative philosopher: Scipio, a Roman in heart and soul—Lælius, acitizen of the world: Scipio was rather inclined to ostentatiousdisplay—Lælius was retiring. The former had a correct taste, spoke Latinwith great purity, and had an extensive acquaintance with the literatureboth of Greece and his own country. The attainments of the latter weremore solid, and his acquaintance with the mind of Greece more profound.But Lælius was not equally calculated to occupy a place in history; andhence, perhaps, although a few fragments of the eloquence of Scipio areextant,[384] the remains of that of Lælius extend only to as many lines.Cheerfulness, (hilaritas,) smoothness, (lenitas,) and learningdistinguished the speeches of Lælius, whilst spirit, genius, and naturalpower marked those of Scipio.

Servius Sulpicius Galba, whom Cato[385] prosecuted for his treachery tothe Lusitanians, obtained from Cicero the praise of having been thefirst Roman who really understood how to apply the theoreticalprinciples of Greek rhetoric. He is said likewise to have carried awaywith him the feelings of his auditors by his animated and vehementdelivery. How skilful he was in the use of rhetorical artifice is shownby his parading before the assembly of the people, when brought totrial, his two infant sons, and the orphan of his friend SulpiciusGallus. His tears and embraces touched the hearts of his judges, and thecold-blooded perjurer was acquitted. External artifice, however,probably constituted his whole merit. He had the tact thus to cover adry and antique style, destitute of nerve and muscle, of which nospecimen except only a few words remain.

All periods of political disquiet are necessarily favourable toeloquence, and the era of the Gracchi was especially so. Extensivepolitical changes were now established. They had been of slow andgradual growth, and were the natural development of the Roman system;but they were changes which could not take place without the crisisbeing accompanied by great political convulsions. In order to understandthe state of parties, of which the great leaders and principal oratorswere the representatives, it is necessary to explain briefly in whatthese changes consisted. The result of an obstinate and perseveringstruggle during nearly four centuries was, that the old distinction ofpatrician and plebeian no longer existed. Plebeians held theconsulship[386] and censorship,[387] and patricians, like the Gracchi,stood forward as plebeian tribunes and champions of popular rights.

The distinctions of blood and race, therefore, were no longer regarded.Most of the old patrician families were extinct. Niebuhr believes thatat this period not more than fifteen patrician “_gentes_” remained; andthe individual members of those which survived, if they maintained theirposition at all, maintained it by personal influence. The constitutionalprinciple which determined the difference of ranks was property. Thisline of demarkation between rich and poor was not an impassable one likethat of birth, but it had now become very broad and deep, owing to theaccumulation of wealth in few hands; and thus between these two ordersthere was as little sympathy as there had been between the patriciancreditors and the plebeian debtors in the earlier times of the republic.

But besides this constitutional principle of distinction, there wasanother of a more aristocratic nature, which owed its erection to publicopinion. Those families the members of which had held high publicoffices were termed _nobiles_ (nobles.) Those individuals whose familieshad never been so distinguished were termed new men (_novi homines_.)Thus a man’s ancestors were made hostages for his patriotism; and sotrustworthy a pledge was hereditary merit considered for ability andfidelity in the discharge of high functions, that only in a fewexceptional cases was the consulship, although open to all, conferredupon a new man. One consequence of all these changes was, that thestruggle for political distinction became hotter than ever, and thestrife more vehement between the competitors for public favour.

These stirring times produced many celebrated orators. Papirius Carbo,the ultra-liberal and unscrupulous colleague of Tiberius Gracchus, whounited the gift of a beautiful voice to copiousness and fluency; LepidusPorcina, who attained the perfection of Attic gentleness, and whom Tib.Gracchus took as his model; Æmilius Scaurus, whom Statius libelled as ofignoble birth; Rutilius Rufus, who was too upright to appeal to thecompassion of his judges;[388] M. Junius Pennus, who met by an insultingalien act the bill of Gracchus for the enfranchisement of the Italians.

The Gracchi themselves were each in a different degree eloquent, andpossessed those endowments and accidents of birth which would recommendtheir eloquence to their countrymen. Gentleness and kindness were thecharacteristics of this illustrious race. Their father, by his mildadministration, attached to himself the warm affection of the Spaniards.Their mother inherited the strong mind and genius of Scipio. To a soundknowledge of Greek and Latin literature[389] and a talent for poetry,she added feminine accomplishments. She danced elegantly, moreelegantly, indeed, than according to the strict notions of Romanmorality a woman of character need have done. She could also sing andaccompany herself upon the lute. To her care in early youth theillustrious brothers owed the development of their natural endowments,and the direction of their generous principles. Cicero tells us that hehad seen the letters of this remarkable woman, which showed how much hersons were indebted to her teaching. Greek philosophers aided her in herwork; and the accomplished Lælius contributed to add grace and polish tothe more solid portions of her education.

Notwithstanding that the political principles which the Gracchi embracedwere the same, their characters, or, more properly speaking, theirtemperaments, widely differed, and their style of speaking was, as mightbe expected, in accordance with their respective dispositions. Tiberiuswas cold, deliberate, sedate, reserved. The storms of passion neverruffled the calmness of his feelings. His speaking, therefore, wasself-possessed and grave, as stoical as his philosophical creed. Hisconduct was not the result of impulse, but of a strict sense of duty.Cicero termed him _homo sanctissimus_, and his style was as chastened ashis integrity was spotless. Such, if we may trust Plutarch, was thecharacter of his oratory, for no fragments remain.

Caius, who was nine years younger than his brother, was warm,passionate, and impetuous: he was inferior to Tiberius morally, as hewas intellectually his superior. His impulses were generous and amiable,but he had not that unswerving rectitude of purpose which is the resultof moral principle. He had, however, more genius, more creative power.His imagination, lashed by the violence of his passions, required astrong curb; but for that reason it gushed forth as from a naturalfountain, and like a torrent carried all before it. On one occasion, towhich Cicero alludes,[390] his look, his voice, his gestures, were soinexpressibly affecting, that even his enemies were dissolved in tears.It is said that in his calmer moments he was conscious that hisvehemence was apt to offend against good taste, and employed a slave tostand near him with a pitch-pipe, in order that he might regulate hisvoice when passion rendered the tones unmusical. His education enabledhim to rid himself of the harshness of the old school, and to gain thereputation of being the father of Roman prose. But his impetuosity madehim leave unfinished that which he had well begun. “His language wasnoble, his sentiments wise; gravity pervaded his whole style, but hisworks wanted the last finishing stroke. There were many gloriousbeginnings, but they were not brought to perfection.”[391] Severalfragments remain, which confirm the correctness of Cicero’scriticism—one of the most beautiful is from his speech against PopiliusLænas, which drove that blood-thirsty tyrant into voluntary exile.

Oratory began now to be studied more as an art, and to be invested witha more polished garb. The interval between the Gracchi and Ciceroboasted of many distinguished names, such as those of Q. Catulus, Curio,Fimbria, Scævola, Cotta, P. Sulpicius, and the Memmii. The mostillustrious names of this epoch were M. Antonius, L. Licinius Crassus,and Cicero’s immediate predecessor and most formidable rival,Hortensius. Antony and Crassus, says Cicero, were the first Romans whoelevated eloquence to the heights to which it had been raised by Greekgenius.[392] From this complaint it may be inferred that,notwithstanding the popular prejudice which existed against Greek taste,and to which even Cicero himself sometimes conceived himself obliged toyield,[393] the leading orators had ceased to take the specimens of oldRoman eloquence as their models. Cicero asserts[394] that both Antonyand Crassus owed their eminence to a diligent study of Greek literature,and to the instructions of Greek professors. The former, he says,attended regularly lectures at Athens and Rhodes, and the latter spokeGreek as if it had been his mother tongue. Yet both had thenarrow-minded vanity to deny their obligations: they thought theireloquence would be more popular, the one by showing contempt for theGreeks, the other by affecting not to know them.

 M. ANTONIUS.

M. Antonius entered public life as a pleader, and thus laid thefoundation of his brilliant political career; but he was through lifegreater as a judicial than as a deliberative orator. He wasindefatigable in preparing his case, and made every point tell: he was agreat master of the pathetic, and knew the way to the hearts of the_judices_. He was not free from the prevailing fault of advocates, ofbeing somewhat unscrupulous in his assertions; and the reason which heis said to have given for never having published any of his speecheswas, lest he should be forced to deny his words. This statement,however, is refuted by Cicero.[395] Although he did not himself give hisspeeches to posterity, some of his most pointed expressions andfavourite passages left an indelible impression on the memories of hishearers: many are preserved by Cicero, who has given us also a completeepitome of one of them.[396] In the prime of life, he fell a victim topolitical fury; and his bleeding head was placed upon the rostrum whichwas so frequently the scene of his eloquent triumphs.

 L. LICINIUS CRASSUS.

L. Licinius Crassus was four years younger than Antonius, having beenborn B. C. 140. It is not known whether he was connected with thedistinguished family whose name he bore. He commenced his career at theRoman bar.[397] At the early age of twenty-one, he successfullyimpeached C. Carbo, and in the year B. C. 118 supported the foundationof a colony at Narbo, in Gaul. A measure so beneficial to the poorercitizens increased his popularity as well as his professional fame. Hewent to Asia as quæstor, and there studied under Metrodorus therhetorician. On his way home he remained a short time at Athens, andattended the lectures of the leading professors.

Notwithstanding his knowledge of jurisprudence, and his early eminenceas a pleader, the speech which established his reputation was apolitical one. Under the Roman judicial system, the prætor presided incourt, with a certain number of assessors, (judices,) who gave theirverdict like our jurymen. These were chosen from the senators.Experience proved that not only in their determination to stand by theirorder they were guilty of partiality, but that they had also been opento bribery. The knights constituted the nearest approach which could befound to a rich middle class. C. Gracchus, therefore, by the “LexSempronia,” transferred the administration of justice to a body of threehundred men, chosen from the equestrian order. This promised to be asalutary change; but so corrupt was the whole framework of Romansociety, that it did not prove effectual. The _Publicani_, who farmedthe revenues of the provinces, were all Roman knights. The new judges,therefore, were as anxious to shield the peculations and extortions oftheir own brethren as the old had been.

In B. C. 106, L. Servilius Cæpio brought in a bill for the restorationof the judicial office to the senators. In support of this measure (thefirst Lex Servilia,) Crassus delivered a powerful and triumphantoration, in which he warmly espoused the cause of the senate, whom hehad before as strenuously opposed on the question of the colony toNarbo. This speech was his _chef-d’œuvre_.[398] After serving the officeof consul,[399] in which he seems to have mistaken his vocation byexchanging the toga for the sword, he was raised to the censorship.[400]His year of office is celebrated for the closing the schools of theLatin rhetoricians by an edict of himself and his colleague. Thefoundations of these schools had been laid in the ruins of the Greekschools, when the philosophers and rhetoricians were banished fromRome.[401] Although the censorial power could suppress the schools, itcould not put a stop to the education given there. The professors founda refuge in private mansions; and thus, protected and fostered byintelligent patrons, continued to fulfil their duties as instructors ofyouth. How often did literature at Rome have to seek an asylum fromprivate patronage against the rude attacks of public prejudice! Thereasons for the measure of Crassus are stated in the preamble.[402]These schools were a novelty; they were contrary to ancientinstitutions; they encouraged idle habits among the Roman youth. Cicerodefended this arbitrary act on the ground that the professors pretendedto teach subjects of which they were themselves ignorant; but Cicerocould scarcely find a fault in Crassus. He thought him a model ofperfection—the first of orators and jurists.[403] He saw noinconsistency in his conduct in the cases of the Narbonne colony and theServilian law.[404] He is lavish in his praises of his wit andfacetiousness, (lepor et facetiæ,[405]) and applies to his malignant andill-natured jokes the term urbanity. The bon-mots of Crassus were by nomeans superior to the generality of Roman witticisms, which weredeficient in point, although they were personal, caustic, andsevere.[406] The grave Romans were content with a very little wit; thequality for which they looked in an oration was not playfulness, butskill in the art of ingenious tormenting. Crassus never uttered a jestequal to that of old Cato, when he said of Q. Helvidius, the glutton,whose house was on fire, “What he could not eat he has burned.”[407]

His conduct with respect to the Latin schools, and his self-indulgentlife in his magnificent mansion on the Palatine, prove that he hadretained the narrow-mindedness of the old Romans without theirtemperance and self-denial, and had acquired the luxury and taste of theGreeks without their liberality. If, however, we make some allowance forpartiality, Crassus deserves the favourable criticism of Cicero.[408]His style is careful and yet not laboured—it is elegant, accurate, andperspicuous. He seems to have possessed considerable powers ofillustration, and great clearness in explaining and defining; hisdelivery was calm and self-possessed, his action sufficiently vehement,but not excessive.[409] He took especial pains with the commencement ofhis speech. When he was about to speak, every one was prepared tolisten, and the very first words which he uttered showed him worthy ofthe expectation formed. No one better understood the difficult art ofuniting elegance with brevity.

From amongst the crowd of orators which were then flourishing in thelast days of expiring Roman liberty, Cicero selected Crassus to be therepresentative of his sentiments in his imaginary conversation in the_de Oratore_. He felt that their tastes were congenial. In this mostcaptivating essay, he introduces his readers to a distinguished literarycircle, men who united activity in public life with a taste for refinedleisure. Antony, Crassus, Scævola, Cotta, and Sulpicius, met at Tusculumto talk of the politics of the day. For this especial purpose they hadcome, and all day long they ceased not to converse on these gravematters. They spoke not of lighter matters until they reclined atsupper. Their day seemed to have been spent in the senate, their eveningat Tusculum. Next day, in the serene and sunny climate of Frascati, ascene well fitted for the calm repose of a Platonic dialogue, Scævolaproposed to imitate the Socrates of Plato, and converse, as the greatphilosopher did, beneath the shade of a plane-tree. Crassus assented,suggesting only that cushions would be more convenient than the grass.So the dialogue began in which Crassus is made the mouthpiece to deliverthe sentiments of Cicero.

Like our own Chatham, Crassus almost died on the floor of thesenate-house, and his last effort was in support of the aristocraticparty. His opponent, Philippus the consul, strained his power to theutmost to insult him, and ordered his goods to be seized. His last wordswere worthy of him. He mourned the bereavement of the senate—that theconsul, like a sacrilegious robber, should strip of its patrimony thevery order of which he ought to have been a kind parent or faithfulguardian. “It is useless,” he continued, “to seize these: if you willsilence Crassus, you must tear out his tongue, and even then my libertyshall breathe forth a refutation of thy licentiousness!” The paroxysmwas too much for him; fever ensued, and in seven days he was a corpse.

We must pass over numerous names contained in the catalogue of Cicero,mentioning by the way Cotta and the two Sulpicii. Cotta’s taste waspure; but his delicate lungs made his oratory too tame for his vehementcountrymen. Publius Sulpicius had all the powers of a tragic actor toinfluence the passions, but professed that he could not write, andtherefore left no specimens behind him. His reluctance to write musthave been the result of reserve or of indolence, and not of inability,for nothing can be more tender and touching, and yet more philosophical,than his letter to Cicero on the death of his beloved daughter.[410]Servius, like too many orators, and even Cicero himself, at firstdespised an accurate knowledge of the Roman law. The great Scævola,however, rebuked him, and reminded him how disgraceful it was for onewho desired the reputation of an advocate to be ignorant of law. Thesewords excited his emulation; he ardently devoted himself to the study ofjurisprudence,[411] and at length is said to have surpassed even Scævolahimself.

 Q. HORTENSIUS.

The last of the pre-Ciceronian orators was Hortensius. Although he wasscarcely eight years senior to the greatest of all Roman orators, hecannot be considered as belonging to the same literary period, since thegenius and eloquence of Cicero constitute the commencement of a new era.He was, nevertheless, his contemporary and his rival; and all that isknown respecting his career is derived from the writings of Cicero.

Q. Hortensius was the son of L. Hortensius, prætor of Sicily, B. C. 97.He was born B. C. 114; and, as it was the custom that noble Roman youthsshould be called to the bar at an early age, he commenced his career asa pleader at nineteen, and pleaded, with applause and success, beforetwo consuls who were excellent judges of his merits, the orator Crassusand the jurist Scævola. His first speech was in support of the provinceof Africa against the extortions of the governor. In his second hedefended Nicomedes, king of Bithynia, against his brother, who haddethroned him. When Crassus and Antony were dead, he was left withoutany rival except Cotta, but he soon surpassed him.[412] The eloquence ofCotta was too languid to stand against the impetuous flow, and he thusbecame the acknowledged leader of the Roman bar until the star of Ciceroarose. They first came in contact when Cicero pleaded the cause ofQuintius, and in that oration he pays the highest possible compliment tothe talents and genius of Hortensius.

His political connexion with the faction of Sulla, and his unscrupuloussupport of the profligate corruption which characterized thatadministration both at home and abroad, enlisted his legal talents indefence of the infamous Verres; but the eloquence of Cicero, togetherwith the justice of the cause which he espoused, prevailed, and fromthat time forward his superiority over Hortensius was established andcomplete. But the admiration which Cicero entertained for his rival hadripened into friendship, which neither the fact of their being retainedon opposite sides, nor even difference in politics, had power tointerrupt. The only danger which ever threatened its stability was somelittle jealousy on the part of Cicero—a jealousy which must beattributed to his morbid temperament and susceptible disposition. ButHortensius was always a warm and affectionate friend to Cicero, andCicero was affected with the deepest grief when he heard of the death ofHortensius.[413] The time at length arrived when identity of politicalsentiments drew them more closely together; and it is to this we owe theplace which Hortensius so often occupies in the letters and other worksof the great Roman orator.

Cicero had originally espoused the popular cause; but his zeal graduallybecame less ardent, and the Catilinarian conspiracy threw him entirelyinto the arms of the aristocratic party. At the Roman bar politics hadgreat influence in determining the side taken by the leading advocates.They were virtually the great law officers of the party in the republicto which they belonged, and had, as it were, general retainers on theirown side. Hence Hortensius generally advocated the same side withCicero. Together they defended Rabirius, Muræna, Flaccus, Sextius,Scaurus, and Milo; but the former seems to have at once acknowledged hisinferiority, and henceforward to have taken but little part in publiclife. In B. C. 51, he defended his nephew from a charge of bribery; butthe guilt of the accused was so plain that the people hissed him when heentered the theatre.[414] The following year he died, at the age ofseventy-five, and left behind him a daughter, whose eloquence iscelebrated in history. An oration, of which she was the author, was readin the time of Quintilian for the sake of its own merits, and not as amere compliment to the female sex. Q. Hortensius has been accused ofcorruption; and his attachment to a corrupt party, his luxurious habits,extravagant expenditure, numerous villas, and enormous wealth, make itprobable that this suspicion was not unfounded. He was an easy,kind-hearted, hospitable, but self-indulgent man. His park was acomplete menagerie; his fish-ponds were stocked with fish so tame thatthey would feed from his hand. His gardens were so carefully kept thathe even watered his trees with wine. He had a taste for both poetry andpainting, wrote some amatory verses, and for one picture gave 140,000sesterces, (about 1,100_l._) His table was sumptuous; and peacocks wereseen for the first time in Rome at his banquets. His cellar was so wellsupplied that he left 10,000 casks of Chian wine behind him.[415]

Cicero[416] tells us that the principal reason of Hortensius’ earlypopularity and subsequent failure was, that his style of eloquence wassuited to the brilliance and liveliness of youth, but not the dignityand gravity of mature age. In those days there were two parties,[417]who differed in their views as to the theory of eloquence; the oneadmired the oratory of the Attic rhetoricians, which was calm, polished,refined, eschewing all redundancies; the other that of the Asiaticschools, which was florid and ornate.

Cicero[418] tells us that the style of Hortensius’ eloquence wasAsiatic; and as the characteristic of his own eloquence is Asiaticdiffuseness rather than Attic closeness, and he often seems to considerthis quality of Asiatic eloquence least worthy of admiration, it ispossible that Hortensius carried it to excess, perhaps even to theborders of affectation. In a youthful orator excess of ornament ispardonable, because it is natural; it gives promise of future excellencewhen genius becomes sobered and luxuriance retrenched.

Hortensius, a prosperous and spoilt child of nature, was a young man allhis life: there was nothing to cast a gloom over his gayety; and tothose of his auditors who possessed good taste, this juvenility seemedinconsistent, and threw into the shade the finish, polish, and animationwhich characterized his style. His delivery was probably no lessunsuitable to more advanced years. We are told that Æsop and Rosciusused to study his action as a lesson;[419] and that one Torquatussneeringly called him Dionysius, who was a celebrated dancer of thatday. His defence was clever: “I had rather,” he said, “be that than aclumsy Torquatus.” But these very anecdotes seem to imply that hisdelivery was somewhat foppish and theatrical.

 CHAPTER XIII.

STUDY OF JURISPRUDENCE—EARLIEST SYSTEMATIC WORKS ON ROMAN LAW—GROUNDWORK

 OF THE ROMAN CIVIL LAW—EMINENT JURISTS—THE SCÆVOLÆ—ÆLIUS GALLUS—C. AQUILIUS GALLUS, A LAW REFORMER—OTHER JURISTS—GRAMMARIANS.

Politics and jurisprudence were the subjects on which the Romansespecially pursued independent lines of thought; but their jurisprudencewas the more original of the two. Although the practical development oftheir political system was entirely the work of this eminently practicalpeople, still in the theory of political science they were followers andimitators of the Greeks. But in jurisprudence, the help which theyderived from Greece was very slight. The mere framework, so far as thelaws of the Twelve Tables are concerned, came to them from Athens; butthe complete structure was built up by their own hands; and by theirskill and prudence they were the authors of a system possessing suchstability, that they bequeathed it as an inheritance to modern Europe,and traces of Roman law are visible in the legal systems of the wholecivilized world.

Roman jurisprudence is, of course, a subject of too great extent to betreated of as its importance deserves in a work like the present; butstill it is so closely connected with eloquence that it cannot bedismissed without a few words. It has been already stated that arms,politics, and the bar were the avenues to distinction; and thus many anambitious youth, who learned the art of war in a foreign campaign undersome experienced general, occupied himself also at home in the forum.Not only was the young patrician conscious that he could not efficientlydischarge his first duty to his clients without possessing sufficientability and knowledge to defend their rights in a court of law, but thiswas an effectual method of showing his fitness for a public career.Eminence as a jurisconsult opened a direct path to eminence as astatesman.[420] He must be like Pollio, “_Insigne mæstis præsidiumreis_,” as well as “_Consulenti curiæ_.”[421]

Hence the complicated principles of jurisprudence and of the Romanconstitution became a necessary part of a liberal education. Thebrilliant orator, indeed, did sometimes affect to look down withcontempt on such black-letter and antiquarian lore, and stigmatize it aspedantry;[422] but still common sense compelled the sober-minded toacknowledge the necessity of the study. They saw that in the courtseloquence could only be considered as the handmaid to legal knowledge,even though the saying of Quintilian were true—“_Et leges ipsæ nihilvalent nisi actoris idoneâ voce munitæ_.”[423] When, therefore, a Romanyouth had completed his studies under his teacher of rhetoric, he notonly frequented the forum in order to learn the practical application ofthe oratorical principles which he had acquired, and frequently tooksome celebrated orator as a model, but also studied the principles ofjurisprudence under an eminent jurist, and attended the consultations inwhich they gave to their clients their expositions of law. In fact theyoung Roman acquired his legal knowledge in the _atrium_ of thejurisconsult, somewhat in the same manner that the law student of thepresent day pursues his education in the chambers of a barrister. Hestudied the subject practically and empirically rather than in itstheory and general principles.

Almost all the knowledge which we possess is derived from the labours ofwriters who flourished long after constitutional liberty had expired.

The earliest systematic works on Roman law were the Enchiridion orManual of Pomponius, and the Institutes of Gaius, who flourished in thetimes of Hadrian and the Antonines. Both these works were for a longtime lost, although numerous fragments were preserved in the Pandects orDigest of Justinian. In 1816, however, Niebuhr discovered a palimpsestMS., in which the Epistles of St. Jerome were written over the erasedInstitutes of Gaius. But owing to the decisions and interpretations ofthe great practising jurists, to the want of any system of reporting andrecording, and to the numerous misunderstandings of the Roman historiansrespecting the laws and constitutional history of their country, thewhole subject long continued in a state of confusion: new contradictorytheories had been gradually introduced, and old difficulties had notbeen explained and reconciled. Gian Baptista Vico, in his _ScienzaNova_, was the first who dispelled the clouds of error and reduced it toa system; and his example was afterwards so successfully followed byNiebuhr, that modern students can understand the subject more clearly,and have a more comprehensive antiquarian knowledge of it, than thewriters of the Augustan age.

The earliest Roman laws were the _Leges Regiæ_, which were collected andcodified by Sextus Papirius, and were hence called the Papirian Code.But these were rude and unconnected—simply a collection of isolatedenactments. The laws of the Twelve Tables stand next in point ofantiquity. They exhibited the first attempts at regular system, andimbodied not only legislative enactments but legal principles.[424] Sopopular were they, that when Cicero was a child every Roman boycommitted them to memory as our children learn their catechism,[425] andthe great orator laments that in the course of his lifetime thispractice had become obsolete. The explanation of these laws was aprivilege confined to the pontifical college. This body alone prescribedthe form of pleading, and published the days on which the courts wereheld. Hence, not only the whole practice and exposition of the law wasin the hands of the patricians, but they had also the power ofobstructing at their pleasure all legal business. But in the censorshipof Appius Claudius, his secretary, Cn. Flavius, set up, at thesuggestion of Appius, a Calendar in the Forum, which made known to thepublic the days on which legal business could be transacted. In vain thepatricians endeavoured to maintain their monopoly by the invention ofnew formulæ, called Notes, for Tiberius Coruncanius, the first plebeianPontifex Maximus, who was consul A. U. C. 474, opened a public school ofjurisprudence, and in the middle of the next century[426] the “Notes”were published by Sextus Ælius Catus.

The oral traditional expositions of these laws formed the groundwork ofthe Roman civil law. To these were added from time to time the decreesof the people (plebiscita,) the acts of the senate (senatus-consulta,)and the prætorian edicts, which announced the principles on which eachsuccessive prætor purposed to administer the statute law.

Such were the various elements out of which the whole body of Roman lawwas composed; and in such early times was the subject diligently studiedand expounded that the latter half of the sixth century A. U. C. wasrich in jurists whose powers are celebrated in history. Besides S. ÆliusCatus, already mentioned, P. Licinius Crassus, surnamed “the rich,” whowas consul A. U. C. 549, is mentioned by Livy[427] as learned in thepontifical law, the canon law of the ancient Romans. L. Acilius alsowrote commentaries on the laws of the Twelve Tables; and to these may beadded T. Manlius Torquatus, consul A. U. C. 589, S. Fabius Pictor, andanother member of the same distinguished family, Q. Fabius Labeo, Catothe censor and his son Porcius Cato Licinianus, and lastly P. CorneliusNasica, whose services as a jurist were recognised by the grant of ahouse at the public expense.

The most eminent jurists who adorned the next century were the Scævolæ.In their family the profession of the jurisconsult seems to have beenhereditary; of so many bearing that distinguished name, it might havebeen said that their house was the oracle of the whole state; “Domusjurisconsulti totius oraculum civitatis.”[428] Quintus, the augur, wasCicero’s first instructor in the science of the law: his cousin Publiusenjoyed also a high reputation; and Quintus, the son of Publius, whobecame Cicero’s tutor after the death of his elder kinsman, combined thegenius of an orator with the erudition of a jurist, and was called byhis distinguished pupil “the greatest orator among jurists, and thegreatest jurist among orators.” The compiler of the digest also quotesas authorities M. Manilius and M. Junius Brutus.[429] Manilius is one ofthe characters introduced in Cicero’s dialogue _de Republica_: he wasconsul A. U. C. 604, and is said to have been the author of seven legaltreatises; but of all these, except three, Cicero denies the authority.Brutus was the son of the ambassador of that name who was employed inthe war with Perseus, and left a treatise in three books on the civillaw.[430]

In the next century flourished one Ælius Gallus, who was somewhat seniorto Cicero, and was the author of a treatise on the signification of lawterms. Several of his definitions are given by Festus, and fragments arepreserved by A. Gellius,[431] and in the Digest. By some he has beenconsidered identical with Ælius Gallus, the prefect of Egypt in thereign of Augustus,[432] who was the friend of the geographer Strabo; butas there is little doubt that he is quoted by Varro,[433] such identityis impossible, since Varro died B. C. 28, and yet he speaks of Gallus asan aged man. Another distinguished jurist of this era was his namesakeC. Aquilius Gallus. He was a pupil of Q. Mucius Scævola, and surpassedall his contemporaries in that black-letter knowledge of law, which inolden time was more highly valued than in the more brilliant days ofCicero. Learning then began to be ridiculed and lightly esteemed, andoratorical powers were more admired in proportion as the Roman mindbecame more alive to the refinements and beauties of language.

But Gallus was most eminent as a law reformer. The written law of Romepresented by its technicality the greatest impediments to actions on theunwritten principle of common right and equity. To obviate this heinvented legal fictions, _i. e._ formulæ by which the effects of thestatute could be annulled without the necessity of abrogating thestatute itself. His practice must have been large, for Pliny mentionsthat he was the owner of a splendid palace on the Viminal Hill.[434] InB. C. 67, he served the office of prætor together with Cicero, and bothbefore and after that he frequently sat as one of the judices. Ciceropleaded before him in the defence both of Cæcina and Cluentius.

Besides Aquilius Gallus, three of the most distinguished jurists, whowere a few years senior to Cicero, owed their legal knowledge to theinstructions of Mucius Scævola. These were—C. Juventius, SextusPapirius, and L. Lucilius Balbus, the last of whom is mentioned byCicero,[435] and his works are quoted by his eminent pupil SulpiciusRufus.

 GRAMMARIANS.

Towards the conclusion of this literary period a great increase tookplace in the numbers of those learned men whom the Romans termed“_Litterati_,”[436] but afterwards, following the custom of the Greeks,Grammarians, (_Grammatici_.[437]) To them literature was under deepobligations. Although few of them were authors, and all of them men ofacquired learning rather than of original genius, they exercised apowerful influence over the public mind as professors, lecturers,critics, and school-masters. By them the youths of the best families notonly were imbued with a taste for Greek philosophy and poetry, but alsowere taught to appreciate the literature of their own country.

Suetonius places at the head of the class Livius Andronicus and Ennius;but their fame as poets eclipses their reputation as mere critics andcommentators.

The first professed grammarian whom he mentions is Crates Mallotes, who,between the first and second Punic wars, was sent to Rome by Attalus.The unfortunate ambassador fell into an open drain and broke his leg,and beguiled the tediousness of his confinement by reading a course ofphilological lectures. After him C. Octavius Lampadio edited the worksof Nævius; Q. Vargunteius those of Ennius; and Lælius, Archelaus,Vectius, and Q. Philocomus read and explained to a circle of auditorsthe Satires of Lucilius.

Most of these grammarians were emancipated slaves: some were Greeks,some barbarians. Sævius Nicanor and Aurelius Opilius were freedmen: thelatter had belonged to the household of some Epicurean philosopher.Cornelius Epicadus was a freedman of Sulla, and completed theCommentaries which his patron left unfinished, and Lenæus was freedmanof Pompey the Great. M. Pompilius Andronicus was a Syrian; M. AntoniusGnipho, though of ingenuous birth, a Gaul. Servius Clodius, however, andL. Ælius Lanuvinus were Roman knights. Nor were the labours of theseindustrious scholars confined to Rome, or even to Italy; for OctaviusTeucer, Siscennius Iacchus and Oppius Chares gave instructions in theprovince of Gallia Togata.

To the names already mentioned may be added those of L. Ælius Stilo, whoaccompanied L. Metellus Numidicus into exile, and Valerius Cato, who notonly taught the art of poetry, but was himself a poet.

We have now traced from its infancy the rise and progress of Romanliterature, and watched the gradual opening of the national intellect.The dawn has gently broken, the light has steadily increased, and is nowsucceeded by the noon-day brilliance of the “golden age.”

 BOOK II. THE ERA OF CICERO AND AUGUSTUS.

 CHAPTER I. PROSE THE TEST OF THE CONDITION OF A LANGUAGE—DRAMATIC LITERATURE

EXTINCT—MIMES—DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ROMAN AND GREEK MIMES—LABERIUS—PASSAGES

 FROM HIS POETRY—MATIUS CALVENA—MIMIAMBI—PUBLIUS SYRUS—ROMAN PANTOMIME—ITS LICENTIOUSNESS—PRINCIPAL ACTORS OF PANTOMIME.

During the period upon which we are now entering, Roman literaturearrived at its greatest perfection. The time at which it attained thehighest point of excellence is fixed by Niebuhr[438] about A. U. C. 680,when Cicero was between thirty and forty years old. Poetry, indeed,still continued to improve, as regarded metrical structure and diction,in finish, smoothness, and harmony. There is _ex. gr._ in these respectsa marked difference between the works of Lucretius and Virgil; butnevertheless the principles of language now became fixed and settled. Infact, the condition of a language must be judged of by its prose; somust likewise the state of perfection to which its literature hasattained. If poetry could be with propriety assumed as the standard, thecommencement of the empire of Augustus would constitute the best age ofLatin literature, rather than the time when the forum echoed with theeloquence of Cicero; but in the two ages of Cicero and Augustus, takentogether as forming one era, is comprehended the golden age both ofpoetry and prose.

Dramatic literature, however, never recovered from the trance into whichit had fallen. The stage had not altogether lost that popularity whichit had possessed in the days of Attius and Terence, for Æsopus andRoscius, the former the great tragedian, the latter the favouritecomedian, in the time of Cicero, amassed great wealth. Æsopus livedliberally,[439] and yet bequeathed a fortune to his son, and Roscius issaid to have earned daily the sum of thirty-two pounds.

Notwithstanding, also, the degradation attached to the social positionof an actor, both these eminent artists enjoyed the friendship of Ciceroand other great men. They brought to the study of their professionindustry, taste, talent, and learning, and these qualities wereappreciated. Æsopus was on one occasion encored a countless number oftimes (_millies_)[440] by an enthusiastic audience, and Roscius waselevated by Sulla to the equestrian dignity. But although the standardRoman plays were constantly represented, dramatic literature had becomeextinct. No one wrote comedy at all, and the tragedies of Valgius Rufusand Asinius Pollio were only intended for reading or recitation. Nor, ashas been already shown, does the Thyestes of Varus really form anexception to this statement.

The dramatic entertainments which had now taken the place of comedy andtragedy were termed mimes.

Their distinguishing appellation was derived from the Greek, but theyentirely differed from those compositions to which the Greeks appliedthat title. The latter were written not in verse, but in prose;[441]they were dialogues, not dramatic pieces, and though they were exhibitedat certain festivals, and the parts supported by actors, they were neverrepresented on the stage. Even when Sophron, whose compositions wereadmired and imitated by Plato,[442] raised them to their highest degreeof perfection, and made them vehicles of serious moral lessons minglingtogether ludicrous buffoonery with grave philosophy, their language wasonly a rhythmical prose, probably somewhat resembling that in which thecelebrated despatch of Hippocrates[443] was written. Some idea may beformed of their nature from the fact that the idylls of Theocritus wereimitated from the mimes of Sophron, and that Persius took them for hismodel in his peculiarly dramatic satires.[444]

The Roman mimes were laughable imitations of manners and persons. So farthey combined features of comedy and farce; for comedy represents thecharacters of a class—farce those of individuals. Their essence was thatof the modern pantomime; mimicry and burlesque dialogue were onlyaccidentally introduced. Their coarseness and even indecency[445]gratified the love of broad humour which characterized the Roman people.They became successful rivals of comedy, and thus came to be admitted onthe public stage. It is most probable that like other dramaticexhibitions, they originally grew out of the Fabulæ Atellanæ, which theyafterwards superseded. But notwithstanding their indecency, their satireupon the living, and their burlesque representations of the illustriousdead, when exhibited at funeral games, they had sometimes, like themimes of Sophron, a moral character, and abounded in shrewd wisdom andnoble sentiments.[446] Schlegel asserts that there is a great affinitybetween the Roman mimes and the pasquinades and harlequinades of modernItaly. He conjectures that in them may be traced the germ of the_Comedie dell’ Arte_, and states that the very picture of Polichinellois found in some of the frescoes of Pompeii.

After a time, when mimes became established as popular favourites, thedialogue or written part of the entertainment occupied a more prominentposition, and was written in verse, like that of tragedy or comedy. Inthe dictatorship of Julius Cæsar, a Roman knight, named Decius Laberius,became eminent for his mimes. Respecting his merits, we have fewopportunities of forming a judgment, as the fragments of hiswritings[447] are but few and short; but Horace[448] speaks of them inunfavourable language, and finds fault with their carelessness and wantof regular plan. He was born about B. C. 107,[449] and died B. C. 45, atPuteoli, (Pozzuoli.) The profession of an actor of mimes was infamous;but Laberius was a writer, not an actor. It happened, however, that P.Syrus, who had been first the slave, then the freedman and pupil ofLaberius, and lastly a professional actor, challenged all his brethrento a trial of improvisatorial skill. Cæsar entreated Laberius to enterthe lists, and offered him five hundred sestertia (about 4,000_l._)Laberius did not submit to the degradation for the sake of the money,but he was afraid to refuse. The only method of retaliation in his powerwas sarcasm. His part was that of a slave, and when his master scourgedhim, he exclaimed, “Porro, Quirites, libertatem perdimus!” His wordswere received with a round of applause, and the audience fixed theireyes on Cæsar. On another occasion his attack on the Dictator was almostthreatening:—

 Necesse est multos timeat quem multi timent.

He appears to have been always quick and ready in repartee. When, onbeing vanquished by his adversary Syrus, the Dictator said to him with asneer—

 Favente tibi me victus es Laberi a Syro,

He replied with the following sad but true reflections:—

 Non possunt primi esse omnes omni in tempore, Summum ad gradum cum claritatis veneris Consistes ægre; et quum descendas decides; Cecidi ego, cadet qui sequitur, laus est publica.

Cæsar, however, restored to him the rank and equestrian privileges ofwhich his act had deprived him; but still he could not recover therespect of his countrymen. As he passed the orchestra in his way to thestalls of the knights, Cicero cried out, “If we were not so crowded, Iwould make room for you here.” Laberius replied, alluding to Cicero’slukewarmness as a political partisan, “I am astonished that you shouldbe crowded, as you generally sit on two stools.” The calm and feelingrebuke with which, in the prologue to his mime, he remonstrated againstthe tyranny of Cæsar, is singularly spirited and beautiful:—

 Necessitas, cujus cursus transversi impetum Voluerunt multi effugere, pauci potuerunt, Quo me detrusit pæne extremis sensibus? Quem nulla ambitio, nulla unquam largitio, Nullus timor, vis nulla, nulla auctoritas Movere potuit in juventa de statu; Ecce in senecta ut facile labefecit loco Viri excellentis mente clemente edita Submissa placide blandiloquens oratio! Etenim ipsi Dii negare cui nihil potuerunt, Hominem me denegare quis possit pati? Ergo bis tricenis actis annis sine nota Eques Romanus lare egressus meo Domum revertas mimus; Nimirum hoc die Uno plus vixi mihi quam vivendum fuit Fortuna, immoderata in bono æque atque in malo, Si tibi erat libitum literarum laudibus Floris cacumen nostræ famæ frangere, Cur quum vigebam membris præviridantibus, Satisfacere populo et tali cum poteram viro, Non flexibilem me concurvasti ut carperes? Nunc me quo dejicis? quid ad scenam affero? Decorem formæ, an dignitatem corporis, Animi virtutem, an vocis jucundæ sonum? Ut hedera serpens vires arboreas necat, Ita me vetustas amplexa annorum enecat, Sepulchri similis nihil nomen retines.

 O, strong Necessity! of whose swift course So many feel, so few escape the force, Whither, ah whither, in thy prone career, Hast thou decreed this dying frame to bear? Me, in my better days, nor foe, nor friend, Nor threat, nor bribe, nor vanity could bend; Now, lured by flattery, in my weaker age I sink my knighthood and ascend the stage. Yet muse not therefore—how shall man gainsay Him whom the Deities themselves obey? Sixty long years I’ve lived without disgrace A Roman knight!—let dignity give place; I’m Cæsar’s actor now, and compass more In one short hour than all my life before. O Fortune! fickle source of good and ill, If here to place me was thy sovereign will, Why, when I’d youth and faculties to please So great a master, and such guests as these, Why not compel me then, malicious power, To the hard task of this degrading hour? Where now, in what profound abyss of shame, Dost thou conspire with Fate to sink my name? Whence are my hopes? What voice can age supply To charm the ear, what grace to please the eye? Where is the active energy and art, The look that guides its passion to the heart? Age creeps like ivy o’er my withered trunk, Its bloom all blasted and its vigour shrunk; A tomb, where nothing but a name remains To tell the world whose ashes it contains. _Cumberland._

Another poet of this age who composed mimes was C. Matius, surnamed,from his baldness, Calvena. His mimes were termed _Mimiambi_, because hewrote in the iambic measure,[450] and he was also a translator of theIliad as well as the author of a work on cookery. His principal merit issaid to have been his skill in enriching his native language by theintroduction of new words.[451] He was somewhat younger than Laberius,and enjoyed the friendship of the greatest amongst his contemporaries.His intimacy with Julius Cæsar,[452] to whom he was warmlyattached,[453] and afterwards with Augustus,[454] gave him greatinfluence;[455] but he never took much part in the political strifewhich imbittered his times, nor did he use his influence in order toprocure his own advancement.

His retired habits and love of literary leisure saved him from seekinghis happiness in the excitements of ambition. Cicero, who loved himdearly, often mentions him in his letters, and pays a compliment[456] tohis learning and amiability. An interesting letter of his, which ispreserved in the collection of Cicero’s epistles to his friends,[457]shows that he possessed an accomplished mind and an affectionate heart.It cannot be supposed, therefore, that his _Mimiambi_ were debased bythe too common faults of coarseness and immodesty.

 PUBLIUS SYRUS.

Publius Syrus was, as his name implies, originally a Syrian slave, andtook his prænomen from the master who gave him his freedom. All that isknown respecting his life has already been stated in the account ofLaberius. The commendations which his mimes received from the ancients,especially from Cicero,[458] Seneca,[459] and Pliny,[460] prove them tohave been much read and admired. The fragments which still remain aremarked by wit and neatness, and the shrewd wisdom of proverbialphilosophy. Tradition has also recorded a _bon-mot_ of his, which is aswitty as it is severe. Seeing once an ill-tempered man, named Mucius, inlow spirits, he remarked, “Either some bad fortune has happened toMucius, or some good fortune to one of his friends.” An accurateknowledge of human nature, exhibited in pointed and terse language, mostprobably constituted the charm of this species of scenic literature. Thelarge collection of his proverbial sayings, entitled _P. SyriSententiæ_, are by no means all genuine; but the nucleus around whichthe collection has grown by successive additions is undoubtedly his, andthose which are the work of after ages are formed after the model of hisapothegms.

The Roman pantomime differed somewhat from the mime—it was a ballet ofaction performed by a single dancer. It was first introduced in itscomplete form in the reign of Augustus: and Suidas,[461] misquoting apassage from Zosimus,[462] groundlessly attributes the invention to theemperor himself. As the mime bore some resemblance to the Atellanfarces, so the pantomime resembled the histrionic performancesintroduced by Livius Andronicus. In both, the person who recited thewords (_canticum_[463]) was different from him who represented thecharacters. In the pantomime, the _canticum_ was sung by a chorusarrayed at the back of the stage. Until the times of the later emperors,when vice was paraded with unblushing effrontery, women never acted inpantomime; but the exhibition itself was sensual and licentious in itscharacter,[464] and the actors of it were deservedly deemed infamous,and forbidden by Tiberius to hold any intercourse with Romans ofequestrian or senatorial dignity.[465] Nero, however, outraged publicdecency by himself appearing in pantomime.[466] Fortunate was it for thedignity of Rome that the face of the emperor was concealed behind a maskwhich, unlike the performers in the mimes, the pantomimic actors alwayswore. The players not only exhibited the human figure in the mostgraceful attitudes, but represented every passion and emotion with suchtruth, that the spectators could without difficulty understand thestory. Sometimes the scenes represented were founded upon the Greektragic drama; but for its purifying effect was substituted the awakeningof licentious passions.

These were the exhibitions which threw such discredit on the stage—whichcalled forth the well-deserved attacks of the early Christian fathers,and caused them to declare that whoever attended them was unworthy ofthe name of Christians. Had the drama not been so abused, had itretained its original purity, and carried out the object attributed toit by Aristotle, they would have seen in it not a nursery of vice, but aschool of virtue—not only an innocent amusement, but a powerful engineto form the taste, to improve the morals, and to purify the feelings ofa people.

The principal actors of pantomime in the reign of Augustus wereBathyllus, Hylas, and Pylades. In the reign of Nero the art waspractised by Latinus,[467] and Paris, who taught the emperor to dance,and subsequently was put to death by Nero when he became his rival forpopular applause.[468] But those who attained the highest degree ofpopularity were another Latinus, and another Paris, who flourished inthe reign of Domitian. Both have been immortalized in the epigrams ofMartial.[469] To the former, Martial attributes the power to fascinatesuch stern and rigid moralists as resembled Cato, the Curii, andFabricii. The epitaph concludes with these lines:—

 Vos me laurigeri parasitum dicite Phœbi, Roma sui famulum dum sciat esse Jovis.

 Say ye I gained the laurelled Phœbus’ love, So that Rome hails me servant of her Jove.

The latter, by his popularity, acquired great influence at court, buthis profligacy proved his ruin. He intrigued with the empress Domitia;and Domitian consequently divorced his wife, and caused Paris to beassassinated. He has furnished a plot and a hero to Massinger’s play ofthe “Roman Actor.” The simple and beautiful epitaph written to hismemory by Martial is as follows:—

 Quisquis Flaminiam teris, viator, Noli nobile præterire marmor. Urbis deliciæ, salesque Nili, Ars et gratia, lusus et voluptas; Romani decus et dolor theatri, Atque omnes Veneres, Cupidinesque, Hoc sunt condita, quo Paris, sepulchro.

 Whoe’er thou art, O traveller, stay! Mark what proud tomb adorns the way. The town’s delight, the wit of Nile, Art, grace, mirth, pleasure, sport and smile: The honour of the Roman stage, The grief and sorrow of the age: All Venuses and Loves lie here Buried in Paris’ sepulchre.

 CHAPTER II.LUCRETIUS A POET RATHER THAN A PHILOSOPHER—HIS LIFE—EPIC STRUCTURE OF

HIS POEM—VARIETY OF HIS POETRY—EXTRACTS FROM HIS POEM—ARGUMENT OF IT—THE

 EPICUREAN DOCTRINES CONTAINED IN IT—MORALITY OF EPICURUS AND

LUCRETIUS—TESTIMONIES OF VIRGIL AND OVID—CATULLUS: HIS LIFE, CHARACTER,

 AND POETRY—OTHER POETS OF THIS PERIOD.

 LUCRETIUS CARUS (BORN B. C. 95.)

Lucretius Carus might claim a place amongst philosophers as well aspoets, for his poem marks an epoch both in poetry and philosophy. Buthis philosophy is a mere reflexion from that of Greece, whilst hispoetry is bright with the rays of original genius. A delineation,therefore, of his characteristics as a writer of the imagination, willpresent the more accurate idea of the place which he occupies amongstRoman authors. It was no empty boast of his, that, as a poet, hedeserved the praise of originality—that he had opened a path through theterritory of the muse, untrodden before by poet’s foot—that he had drawnfrom a virgin fountain, and culled fresh flowers whence the Muse hadnever yet sought them to wreathe a garland for the poet’s brow.[470]

Few materials exist for the compilation of his biography. From twopassages[471] in his work, in which he states that his native languagewas Latin, it is clear that he was born within the limits of Italy. Thedate of his birth is generally fixed B. C. 95.[472] The prevalence ofthe Epicurean philosophy, and the additional popularity with which histalents invested the fashionable creed, combined to raise him to theequestrian dignity; and, consistently with his cold and hopelessatheism—his proud disbelief in a superintending Providence—he died byhis own hand in the prime of life and in the forty-fourth year of hisage.[473] The story that his work was written in the lucid intervals ofa madness produced by a love-potion, as well as his residence at Athensfor the purpose of study, rest upon no foundation.

His poem _On the Nature of Things_ is divided into six books, and iswritten in imitation of that of Empedocles, who is the subject of hiswarmest praise and admiration. Whilst its subject is philosophical andits purpose didactic, its unity of design, the one point of view fromwhich he regards the various doctrines of the master whose principles headopts, claims for it the rank of an epic poem.

This epic structure prevents it from being a complete and systematicsurvey of the whole Epicurean philosophy; but, notwithstanding thisdeficiency in point of comprehensiveness, the exactness and fidelitywith which he represents those doctrines which he enunciates, rendershim deserving of the credit of having given to his countrymen, as far asepic writing permitted, an accurate view of the philosophical systemwhich then enjoyed the highest degree of popularity.

Although Greek philosophy furnished Lucretius with his subject, and aGreek poem served as a model, he also saw and valued the capabilities ofthe Latin language—he wielded at will its power of embodying the noblestthoughts, and showed how its copious and flexible properties couldovercome the hard technicalities of science. Grand as were hisconceptions, the language of Lucretius is not inferior to them inmajesty. Without violating philosophical accuracy, he never appears tofeel it a restraint to his muse: his fancy is always lively, hisimagination has free scope even when his thoughts are fixed in theabstrusest theories, and engaged in the most subtle argumentation.[474]

The great beauty of the poetry of Lucretius is its variety. One mightexpect sublimity in the philosopher who penetrates the secrets of thenatural world, and discloses to the eye of man the hidden causes of itswonderful phenomena. His object was a lofty one; for, although theirrational absurdities of the national creed drove him into the oppositeevils of skepticism and unbelief, his aim was to set the intellect freefrom the trammels of superstition. But besides grandeur and sublimity wefind the totally different poetical qualities of softness andtenderness. Rome had long known nothing but war, and was now rent bythat worst and most demoralizing kind of war, civil dissension.Lucretius yearned for peace; and his prayer, that the fabled goddess ofall that is beautiful in nature would heal the wounds which discord hadmade, is distinguished by tenderness and pathos even more than bysublimity. The whole passage is superior to the poetry of Ovid in force,although inferior in facility. His versification is not so smooth andharmonious as that of Virgil, who flourished in a period when thelanguage had attained a higher degree of perfection, and the Roman earwas more educated, and therefore more delicately attuned, but it isnever harsh and rugged, and always falls upon the ear with a swellingand sonorous melody. Virgil appreciated his excellence, and imitated notonly single expressions, but almost entire verses and passages.[475]

As an example of sublimity, few passages can equal that in which hedescribes the prostration of human intellect under the grievoussuperstition, the dauntless purpose of Epicurus to free men from heroppressive rule, and to enable him to burst open the portals of Nature’streasure-house, and thus gain a victory which will place him on anequality with the inhabitants of heaven:—

 Humana ante oculos fede quom vita jaceret In terris, oppressa gravi sub Religione, Quæ caput a cœli regionibus ostendebat, Horribili super aspectu mortalibus instans; Primum Graius homo mortales tendere contra Est oculos ausus, primusque obsistere contra; Quem neque fama deûm nec fulmina nec minitanti Murmure compressit cœlum, sed eo magis acrem Irritât animi virtutem, effringere ut arcta Naturæ primus portarum claustra cupiret. Ergo vivida vis animi pervicit et extra Processit longe flammantia mœnia mondi, Atque omne immensum peragravit mente animoque; Unde refert nobis victor, quid possit oriri, Quid nequeat; finita potestas denique quoique Quanam sit ratione, atque alte terminus hærens. Quare Religio, pedibus subjecta, vicissim Obteritur; nos exæquat victoria cœlo. Lib. i. 63.

The idea which the poet here presents to the mind of his readers is ofthe same kind with that which pervades the writings of the Greektragedians: it is that of the limited energies of mortals resolutelystruggling with a superior and almost irresistible power.

The thrilling narrative of the plague at Athens, with all its physicaland moral horrors, is one of the most heart-rending specimens ofdescriptive poetry. The stern rejection of all fear of death, thoughbased upon a denial of the immortality of the soul, is a noble burst ofpoetical as well as philosophical enthusiasm; and the fifth bookdisplays that perfect finish and accomplished grace which characterizesall the best Roman poets. Amongst the most affecting passages may beenumerated those which describe the early sorrows of the human race, andthe grief of the bereaved animal whose young one has been slain insacrifice.[476] Two other fine passages are the philosophicalexplanation of Tartarus, and the panoramic view of the tempest of humandesires, seen from the rocky heights of philosophy—a gloriousdescriptive piece which has been imitated by Lord Bacon.

The following lines show how beautifully the poet has caught the spiritand feeling of Greek fancy, and how capable the Latin language now wasof adequately expressing them:—

 Aulide quo pacto Triviai virginis aram Iphianassai turparunt sanguine fede Ductores Danaum delectei, prima virorum Cui simul infula, virgineos circumdata comtus, Ex utraque pari malarum parte profusa est; Et mœstum simul ante aras astare parentem Sensit, et hunc propter ferrum celare ministros, Aspectuque suo lacrumas effundere civeis; Muta metu, terram genibus summissa, petebat: Nec miseræ prodesse in tali tempore quibat, Quod patrio princeps donarat nomine regem Nam sublata virum manibus, tremebundaque, ad aras Deducta est; non ut, solenni more sacrorum Perfecto, posset claro comitari hymenæo; Sed, casta incerte, nubendi tempore in ipso, Hostia concideret mactatu mœsta parentis, Exitus ut classi felix faustusque daretur. Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum!

 By that Diana’s cruel altar flowed With innocent and royal virgin’s blood: Unhappy maid! with sacred ribands bound, Religious pride! and holy garlands crowned; To meet an undeserved, untimely fate, Led by the Grecian chiefs in pomp and state; She saw her father by, whose tears did flow In streams—the only pity he could show. She saw the crafty priest conceal the knife From him, blessed and prepared against her life! She saw her citizens, with weeping eyes, Unwillingly attend the sacrifice. Then, dumb with grief, her tears did pity crave, But ’twas beyond her father’s power to save. In vain did innocence, youth, and beauty plead; In vain the first pledge of his nuptial bed; She fell—even now grown ripe for bridal joy— To bribe the gods, and buy a wind for Troy. So died this innocent, this royal maid: Such fiendish acts religion could persuade. _Creech._

It cannot be denied that there are in the poem of Lucretius many barrenwastes over which are scattered the rubbish and _débris_ of a falsephilosophy; but even in these deserts the oases are numerous enough toprevent exhaustion and fatigue. They recur too frequently to enumeratethem all. If the attempt were made, other tastes would still discoverfresh examples.

The following is, in a few words, the plan and structure of thepoem:—Its professed object is to emancipate mankind from the debasingeffects of superstition by an exposition of the leading tenets of theEpicurean school. It is divided into six books. In the first, the poetenunciates and copiously illustrates the grand axiom of his system ofthe universe, together with the corollaries which necessarily arise fromit. “Nothing is created out of nothing.” He commences also the subjectof the atomic theory. In the second book he pursues the subject ofcreation generally, and the various functions of animal life. The thirdtreats of the nature of the soil. The fourth contains the theory ofsensation, especially of sight; of the relation which thought bears tomatter; of the passions, and especially of the influence of love, bothphysical and moral. The fifth book is devoted to the history of mankind.The sixth explains the phenomena of the natural world, including thoseof disease and death.

The following are the leading Epicurean doctrines imbodied in thepoem:—There are divine beings, but they are neither thecreators[477] nor the governors of the world.[478] They live in theenjoyment of perfect happiness and repose, regardless of humanaffairs, unaffected by man’s virtues and vices, happiness or misery.Neither have they the power any more than the will to interfere inthe affairs of the world, for they cannot resist the eternal laws ofnature and destiny. Whilst, in deference to the innate sense whichrevolts at the denial of a God, he acknowledges the existence ofdivine beings, the proofs which he adduces as derived from his greatmaster are weak and unsatisfactory.[479] The corollary of thisdisbelief in Divine Providence is practical atheism. The ideas whichman entertains of God are false, because they are the mere creationsof the imagination. Ignorant of the real causes which lead tonatural phenomena, he conjures up these as the machinery to accountfor them.[480] The popular belief is groundless; and yet the poetbelieves that if this system is overthrown there is nothing tosupply its place, and hence all worship, whether prayer or praise,is grovelling superstition.[481] The only true piety consists incalm and peaceful contemplation.[482]

To those who argue that unbelief leads to ungodliness, his answer isthat what man calls religion has led to the greatest crimes.[483] He isnot entirely destitute of the religious sentiment or the principle offaith, for he deifies nature[484] and has a veneration for her laws; andhence his infidelity must be viewed rather in the light of aphilosophical protest against the degrading results of heathensuperstition than a total rejection of the principle of religious faith.

It is here that Lucretius seems for awhile to leave the authority ofEpicurus; and with the inspiration of a poet, which is hardly consistentwith a total absence of veneration and faith, to forsake his cold andheartless system. Although he asserts that the phenomena of nature arethe result of a combination of atoms, that these elementary particlesare self-existent and eternal, he seems to invest nature with a sort ofpersonality. The warm sensibility of the poet overcomes the cold logicof the philosopher. Dissatisfied with the ungenial idea of an abstractlifeless principle, he yearns for the maternal caresses of a beingendued with energies and faculties with which he can sympathize. Hetherefore ascribes to nature an attribute which can only belong to anintelligent agent having ruling power. Nay, he even goes farther thanthis, and absolutely contradicts the dogmas of the Epicurean school.Even the works of nature are represented as instinct with life.[485] Thesun is spoken of as a being who, by the warmth of his beams, vivifiesall things: the earth, from whose womb all things spring, fosters andnurtures all her children. The very stars may possibly be living beings,performing their stated motions in search of their propersustenance.[486] These are, doubtless, the fancies of the poet ratherthan the grave and serious belief of the philosopher; but they prove howfalse, hollow, and artificial is a system which pretends to account forcreation by natural causes, and how earnestly the human mind cravesafter the comfort and support of a personal deity.

The denial of the immortality of the soul is inferred from thedestructibility of the material elements out of which it is composed. Itmust perish immediately that it is deprived of the protection of thebody.[487] In accordance with this psychical theory, he accounts for thedifference of human tempers and characters. Character results from thecombination of the elementary principles:—a predominance of heatproduces the choleric disposition; that of wind produces timidity; thatof air a calm and equable temper.[488] But this natural constitution,the strength of the will, acted upon by education, is able, to a certainextent, to modify, though it cannot effect a complete change. Thus it isthat, although moral as well as physical phenomena are produced inaccordance with fixed laws, human ills result from unbridled passions,and may be remedied by philosophy.

Although, if tried by a Christian standard, the Lucretian morality is byno means pure,[489] yet even where he permits laxity he is notinsensible to the moral beauty, the happy and holy results of purity andchastity.[490] Nor, notwithstanding the assertions of Cicero,[491] canthe charge of immorality or of a selfish love of impure pleasure be madeagainst Lucretius or Epicurus. The distinction which the latter drewbetween lawful and unlawful pleasures was severe and uncompromising. Theformer speaks of the hell which the wicked sensualist always carrieswithin his own breast[492]—of the satisfaction of true wisdom,[493] andof a conscience void of offence.[494]

Again, Epicurus was a man of almost Christian gentleness. Stoicalgrossness and contempt of refinement revolted him; the unamiableseverity of that sect was alien to his nature. He was thus driven to theopposite extreme; and although he was careful to make pure intellectualpleasure the _summum bonum_, his standard laid him open to objectionsfrom his jealous adversaries. The zeal with which many distinguishedfemales devoted themselves to his system, and became his disciplesbecause his doctrines and character especially recommended themselves tothe female sex, made it easy for his enemies to stigmatize them as_effeminate_, instead of praising them as _feminine_. With thatilliberality which refused to woman freedom of conduct and a liberaleducation, his adversaries calumniated the characters of his pupils,represented them as unchaste, and their instructor as licentious. Nordid they hesitate even to support these accusations by forgeries.[495]

A careless reception of their calumnies without investigation, added tothe general, and perhaps wilful, misapprehension which prevailed amongthe Romans in the days of Cicero, led to the misrepresentations whichare found in his writings. These have been handed down to after ages:and thus the doctrines taught by Epicurus have been loaded withundeserved obloquy.[496] There is, however, no doubt that Epicurism wasadopted by the Romans in a corrupt form, and that it became fashionablebecause it was supposed to encourage indifferentism and sensuality. Itis probable, too, that the denial of immortality contributed much to thedepravation and distortion of his system. Nothing so surely demoralizesas destroying the hopes of eternity. Man cannot commune with God, orsoar on high to spiritual things, unless he hopes to be spiritualizedand to see God as He is. Whatever the philosopher may teach as to thetrue nature of happiness, man will set up his own corrupt standard,which his passions and appetites lead him to prefer: he will act on theprinciple “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” Still it must beconfessed that the views of Epicurus respecting man’s duty to God weredisinterested—founded on ideas of the Divine perfections, not merely onhopes of reward.[497] His views of sensual pleasures were in accordancewith his simple, frugal life, diametrically opposed to intemperance andexcess. He taught by example as well as by precept, that he who would behappy must cultivate wisdom and justice, because virtue and happinessare inseparable. He attached his disciples to him by affection ratherthan by admiration; submitted to weakness and sickness with patientresignation; and died with a heroism which no Stoic could havesurpassed.

Such was the master whom Lucretius followed, and the school to which hebelonged; and though the sternness of the Roman character breathed intohis protest against superstition a bolder spirit of defiance than thatof the placid and resigned Greek, his teaching was equally pure andnoble, and he would have proudly disdained to make philosophy a cloakfor voluptuous profligacy. Poets who surpassed him in gracefulness, andwho were fortunate enough to flourish when the Latin language had becomemore plastic, paid due honour to his greatness. Virgil celebrates thehappiness of that man:—

 —— qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari.[498]

His muse is instinct with Lucretian spirit when he describes with suchgraphic skill the murrain attacking the brute creation;[499] and Ovidexclaims that the sublime strains of Lucretius shall never perish untilthe day shall arrive when the world shall be given up to destruction.

 CATULLUS (BORN B. C. 86.)

Contemporary with the great didactic poet, but nine years his junior inage, flourished C. Valerius Catullus. He was a member of a good family,residing on the Lago di Garda, in the neighbourhood of Verona,[500] andhis father had the honour of frequently receiving Cæsar as hisguest.[501] At an early age he went to Rome, probably for education, buthis warm temperament and strong passions plunged him into the licentiousexcesses of the capital. During this period of his career, passed in theindulgence of pleasure and gayety, and in the midst of a dissipatedsociety, he had no more serious occupation than the cultivation of hisliterary tastes and talents. The elegant tenderness of his amatorypoetry made him a favourite with the fair sex, for its licentiousnesswas not out of keeping with the sentiments and conversation prevalent inthe Roman fashionable world. It must not be supposed that the tone ofsociety amongst the higher classes was pure and moral, like that ofCicero and his friends, or that it was not marked by the same licentiousfreedom which polluted some even of their most graceful poems.

The poetry of Catullus was such as might be expected from the tenor ofhis life. The excuse which he made for its character was not a validone;[502] for the line in Hadrian’s epitaph on Voconius could notpossibly be applied to him:—

 Lascivus versu, mente pudicus eras.[503]

His mistress, whom he addresses under the feigned name of Lesbia, wasreally named Clodia.[504] It has been said that she was the sister ofthe infamous Clodius; but there are no grounds for the assertion.

A career of extravagance and debauchery terminated in ruin, and thoughhis fortune had been originally ample, his affairs became hopelesslyembarrassed; and in order to retrieve them by colonial plunder, heaccompanied Memmius, the friend of Lucretius, when he went as prætor toBythinia. Owing, however, to the grasping meanness of his patron hisexpectations were disappointed. He returned home “with his purse full ofcobwebs.” Still he enjoyed the privilege of visiting those cities ofGreece and Asia which were the most celebrated for literature and thefine arts.

When he went to Asia he visited the grave of a brother who had died inthe Troad, and who was buried on the Rhætian promontory; and a poemwhich he addressed on the occasion to Hortalus, the dissipated son ofthe orator Hortensius, as well as another dedicated to Manlius, bearwitness to the warmth of his fraternal affection. The former is abeautiful and touching specimen of his elegiac style:—

 Multas per gentes et multa per æquora vectus, Adveni has miseras frater ad inferias. Ut te postremo donarem munere mortis Et mutum nequidquam alloquerer cinerem. Quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum Has miser indigne frater adempte mihi! Nunc tamen interea prisco quæ more parentum Tradita sub tristes munera ad inferias Accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu Atque in perpetuum frater ave atque vale!

On his return to Rome he resumed his old habits, and died in the primeof life, probably B. C. 47, as that is the latest date to which allusionis made in his writings.

His works consist of numerous short fugitive pieces of a lyricalcharacter; elegies, such as that already quoted; a secular hymn toDiana; a poem, somewhat of a dithyrambic character, entitled Atys; andthe Epithalamium of Peleus and Thetis, a mythological poem in heroicverse. His taste was evidently formed on a study of the Greek poets,from whom he learnt not only his beautiful hendecasyllables, but alsotheir modes of thought and expression. He had skill and taste to adoptthe materials with which his vast erudition furnished him, and toconceal his want of originality and inspiration. Some of his pieces aretranslations from the Greek, as, for example, the elegy on the hair ofBerenice, which is taken from the Greek of Callimachus, and thecelebrated ode of Sappho.[505] He was one of the most popular of theRoman poets—firstly, because he possessed those qualities which theliterary society of Rome most highly valued, namely, polish andlearning; and secondly, because, although he was an imitator, there is aliving reality about all that he wrote—a truly Roman nationality. He didnot merely disguise the inspiration of Greece in a Latin dress, butinvested Roman life, and thoughts, and social habits with the ideal ofGreek love and beauty. For these reasons his fame flourished as long asRome possessed a classical literature. Two eminent men only havewithheld their admiration—Horace in the golden age; Quintilian in theperiod of the decline. The former disparages him as a lyrical poet; thelatter almost passes him over in silence. Horace was jealous of a rivalwho was so nearly equal to himself: he could not bear the remotestchance of his claim being disputed to be the musician of the Romanlyre;[506] and he dishonestly declared that he first adapted Æolianstrains to the Roman lyre,[507] notwithstanding the Lesbian characterand hendecasyllabic metres of his predecessor. Quintilian could notappreciate Catullus, because his own taste was too stiff and affected,and spoilt by the rhetorical spirit of his age.

Catullus had a talent for satire, but his satire was not inspired by anoble indignation at vice and wrong. It was the bitter resentment of avindictive spirit: his love and his hate were both purely selfish. Hislanguage of love expresses the feelings of an impure voluptuary; hislanguage of scorn those of a disappointed one. He gratified hisirritable temper by attacking Cæsar most offensively; but the nobleRoman would not crush the insect which annoyed him; and althoughCatullus insulted him personally by reading his lampoons in hispresence, not a change passed over his countenance: he would not stoopto avenge himself: and the imperial clemency disarmed the anger of thelibeller. The strong prejudice of Niebuhr in favour of Roman antiquityled him to pronounce Catullus a gigantic and extraordinary genius, equalin every respect to the lyric poets of Greece previously to the time ofSophocles; he believed him to be the greatest poet Rome ever possessed,except, perhaps, some few of the early ones; but that great man alsothought that Virgil had mistaken his vocation in becoming an epicinstead of a lyric poet.[508] Catullus certainly possessed greatexcellences and talents of the most alluring and captivating kind. Nogenius ever displayed itself under a greater variety of aspects. He hasthe playfulness and the petulance of a girl, the vivacity and simplicityof a child. He has never been surpassed in gracefulness, melody, andtenderness. No one, unless he possessed the coolness and self-command ofa Cæsar, could have avoided wincing under the sharp attacks of his wit:he had passion and vehemence, but he had not the grandeur and sublimityeither of Lucretius or Virgil.

Although the peculiar characteristics of his poetry are chiefly to befound in his lyric and elegiac poems, there are in his longer pieces,which are less known and less admired, passages of singular sweetnessand beauty. He had not sufficient grasp and comprehensiveness of mind toconduct an epic poem. His knowledge of human nature, confined as it wasto one of its phases—the development of the softer affections—did notadmit of sufficient variety for so vast a work. His intellectual taste,like his moral principles, was too ill-regulated to construct awell-digested plan, necessary to the perfection of an epic poem; butwherever ingenuity and liveliness in description, or pathos in movingthe affections, are required, the poetry of Catullus does not yield tothat of Ovid or of Virgil.

The poem, entitled the marriage of Peleus and Thetis, bears some slightresemblance to an heroic poem. Its subject is heroic, for it imbodies alegend of the heroic age. The characters of mythology play a part in it,similar to that which they support in the poems of Homer or Virgil. Butit is unconnected and deficient in unity; and the plan is far tooextensive for the dimensions by which it is circumscribed. Nevertheless,with all these faults, it is pleasing on account of the luxuriance ofits fancy and the brilliancy of its genius. The most beautiful passage,perhaps, is the episode relating the story of Theseus and Ariadne, whichis introduced into the main body of the poem as being woven andembroidered on the hangings of the palace of Holeus. The followingverses are taken from this episode,[509] and form part of the complaintof Ariadne for the perfidious desertion of Theseus:—

 Siccine discedens, neglecto numine Divûm, Immemor ah! devota domum perjuria portas? Nullane res potuit crudelis flectere mentis Consilium? tibi nulla fuit clementia præsto, Immite ut nostri vellet mitescere pectus? At non hæc quondam nobis promissa dedisti Voce; mihi non hoc miseræ sperare jubebas; Sed connubia læta, sed optatos hymenæos; Quæ cuncta aërii discerpunt irrita venti. Jam jam nulla viro juranti fœmina credat, Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles; Qui, dum aliquid cupiens animus prægestit apisci, Nil metuunt jurare, nihil promittere parcunt; Sed simul ac cupidæ mentis satiata libido est, Dicta nihil metuere, nihil perjuria curant. Certe ego te in medio versantem turbine leti Eripui, et potius germanum amittere crevi, Quam tibi fallaci supremo in tempore deessem. Pro quo dilaceranda feris dabor, alitibusque Præda, neque injecta tumulabor mortua terra. Quænam te genuit sola sub rupe leæna? Quod mare conceptum spumantibus exspuit undis? Quæ Syrtis, quæ Scylla vorax, quæ vasta Charybdis, Talia qui reddis pro dulci præmia vitæ? Si tibi non cordi fuerant connubia nostra, Sæva quod horrebas prisci præcepta parentis; Attamen in vestras potuisti ducere sedes, Quæ tibi jucundo famularer serva labore, Candida permulcens liquidis vestigia lymphis, Purpureave tuum consternens veste cubile. Sed quid ego ignaris nequicquam conqueror auris, Externata malo? quæ nullis sensibus auctæ Nec missas audire queunt, nec reddere voces.—132–161.

 And couldst thou, Theseus, from her native land Thy Ariadne bring, then cruel so Desert thy victim on a lonely strand? And didst thou, perjured, dare to Athens go, Nor dread the weight of Heaven’s avenging blow? Could naught thy heart with sacred pity touch? Naught make thy soul the baleful plot forego ’Gainst her that loved thee? Ah! not once were such The vows, the hopes, thy smooth professions did avouch!

 Then all was truth, then did thy honeyed tongue Of wedded faith the flattering fable weave. All, all unto the winds of heaven are flung! Henceforth let never listening maid believe Protesting man. When their false hearts conceive The selfish wish, to all but pleasure blind, No words they spare, no oaths unuttered leave; But when possession cloys their pampered mind, No care have they for oaths, no words their honour bind.

 For this, then, I from instant death did cover Thy faithless bosom; and for this preferred, Even to a brother’s blood, a perjured lover; Now to be torn by savage beast and bird, With no due form, no decent rite, interred! What foaming sea, what savage of the night, In murky den thy monstrous birth conferred? What whirlpool guides and gave thee to the light, The welcome boon of life thus basely to requite?

 What though thy royal father’s stern command The bond of marriage to our lot forbade, Oh! safely still into thy native land I might have gone thy happy serving maid; There gladly washed thy snowy feet or laid Upon thy blissful bed the purple vest. Ah, vain appeal! upon the winds conveyed, The heedless winds, that hear not my behest: No words his ear can reach or penetrate his breast!

The writers of the Augustan age and their successors paid Catullus whatthey considered the highest compliment, when they called him _learned_.Criticism referred everything to the Greek standard. The qualities whichthey recognised by this epithet were those which they deemed mostvaluable—more so even than originality and invention—an extensiveacquaintance with the materials of Greek story, an elaborate study ofthe poets taken as models, a scientific appreciation of the cadences andharmonies of Greek versification. They were grateful for the blessingswhich they were conscious of having derived from mental cultivation; andthe highest praise which they could bestow was to confer upon a poet thetitle of a learned and accomplished man.

This period, at which prose reached its zenith, could boast of otherpoets, also, besides Lucretius and Catullus, whose merits wereconsiderable although they did not satisfy the fastidious taste of theAugustan age. There flourished C. Licinius Calvus,[510] C. HelviusCinna, Valerius Cato, Valgius, Ticida, Furius Bibaculus, and VarroAtacinus.

The first of these was a lively little man,[511] an orator as well as apoet. His speeches were elaborately modelled after those of the Atticorators; and had his poems displayed the same polish, they might havesatisfied Horace[512] and his contemporaries, and thus have beenpreserved. As it is, the fragments which remain are so brief, that it isimpossible to say whether his merits were such as to justify Niebuhr inplacing him amongst the three greatest poets of his age. His poetryresembled that of Catullus in spirit and morality. It was thefashionable poetry of the day, and consisted of tender elegy, playfuland sentimental epigram, licentious love-songs, and bitter personality.

Cinna,[513] besides smaller poems, was the author of an epic, entitledSmyrna; the subject is unknown: but Catullus, who was his intimatefriend, praises it highly, and Virgil modestly declares that, ascompared with Varius and Cinna, he himself appears a goose amongstswans.[514] Valerius Cato was a grammarian as well as a poet. His twoprincipal poems were entitled Lydia and Diana;[515] and a fragmentarypoem, to which the title _Diræ_ or _Curses_[516] has been given, hasbeen generally attributed to him on the grounds that the author poursforth his woes to a mistress named Lydia. The argument of the piece isas follows:—The estate of Cato, like that of Virgil, was confiscated andmade a military colony; and smarting under a sense of wrong, heimprecates curses on his lost home. Then the theme changes: his heartsoftens; and in sad accents he bewails his separation from his mistress,and from all his rural pleasures. This poem was formerly believed to bethe work of Virgil, but neither the language nor the poetry can becompared to those of the Mantuan bard; nor do the sentiments resemblethe calmness and resignation with which he bears his misfortunes. J.Scaliger, impressed with these considerations, transferred theauthorship from Virgil to Cato. But there are no sufficient grounds fordetermining the question.

Respecting C. Valgius Rufus all is doubt and obscurity. The grammariansquote from him; Pliny[517] speaks of his learning; Horace[518] refers tohim as an elegiac poet, and expresses the greatest confidence in hiscritical taste and judgment. Ticida is mentioned by Suetonius as bearingtestimony to the merits of Valerius Cato. Bibaculus was a bittersatirist, who spared not the feelings of his friend Cato when reducedfrom affluence to poverty;[519] who himself had the vanity to attempt anepic poem, and by his vulgar taste provoked the severe criticism ofHorace.[520]

P. Terentius Varro Atacinus was a contemporary of Varro Reatinus; andfor this reason his works have often been confounded with those of thelatter. He was born B. C. 82,[521] near the river Atax in Gaul, andhence he was surnamed Atacinus, in order to distinguish him from hislearned namesake, who derived his appellation from property which hepossessed at Reati. Very few fragments of his works are extant,[522]although his poetry was of such a character that Virgil deemed some ofhis lines worthy of plagiarizing.[523] His principal work, which is notspoken of in very high terms by Quintilian,[524] is a translation of theArgonautica of Apollonius Rhodius. Besides this, he wrote twogeographical poems, namely, the _Chorographia_ and _Libri Navales_, aheroic poem entitled _Bellum Sequanicum_, on one of the Gallic campaignsof J. Cæsar, and also some elegies, epigrams, and saturæ.[525]

A fragment of the Chorographia is preserved by Meyer,[526] theconcluding lines of which were evidently imitated by Virgil, and alsothe following severe epigram on Licinius:—

 Marmoreo Licinus tumulo jacet, at Cato nullo, Pompeius parvo; Quis putet esse Deos? Saxa premunt Licinum, levat altum fama Catonem, Pompeium tituli. Credimus esse Deos.

 CHAPTER III. AGE OF VIRGIL FAVOURABLE TO POETRY—HIS BIRTH, EDUCATION, HABITS, ILLNESS, AND DEATH—HIS POPULARITY AND CHARACTER—HIS MINOR POEMS, THE

CULEX CIRIS MORETUM COPA AND CATALECTA—HIS BUCOLICS—ITALIAN MANNERS NOT

 SUITED TO PASTORAL POETRY—IDYLLS OF THEOCRITUS—CLASSIFICATION OF THE BUCOLICS—SUBJECT OF THE POLLIO—HEYNE’S THEORY RESPECTING IT.

 P. VIRGILIUS MARO (BORN B. C. 70.)

The period at which Virgil flourished was singularly favourable both tothe development and appreciation of poetical talent of the most polishedand cultivated kind. The indulgent liberality of the imperial courtcherished and fostered genius: the ruin of republican liberty left theintellect of the age without any other object except refinement;imagination was not harassed by the cares and realities of life. Thesame causes contributed to limit the range of prose composition,[527]and therefore the field was left undisputed to Virgil and Horace andtheir friends; and as the age of Cicero was essentially one in whichprose literature flourished, so that of Augustus was the golden age ofpoetry. Of this age, Virgil stands forth pre-eminent amongst hiscontemporaries, as the representative. He exhibited all itscharacteristics, polish, ingenuity, and skill, and to these hesuperadded dignity and sublimity. The life of Virgil, commonly prefixedto his works, professes to be written by Tiberius Claudius Donatus, wholived in the fifth century. If, as Heyne thought, the groundwork is byhim, it has been overlaid with fables similar to those found in theGesta Romanorum, and owing their origin to the inventions of the darkages. From this biography, stripped of those portions which are clearlyfabulous, and from other sources, the following particulars respectinghim may be derived:—P. Virgilius Maro was born on the ides (the 15th) ofOctober,[528] B. C. 70, on a small estate belonging to his father, atAndes (Pietola,) a village of Cisalpine Gaul, situated about three Romanmiles from Mantua. It has been disputed whether his name was Virgiliusor Vergilius. Most probably both orthographies are correct, as _Diana_,_Minerva_, _liber_, and other Latin words, were frequently written_Deana_, _Menerva_, _leber_, &c.[529]

Virgil was by birth a citizen of Mantua,[530] but not of Rome, for thefull franchise was not extended to the _Transpadani_ until B. C. 49,although they enjoyed the Jus Latii as early as B. C. 89. The variedstores of learning contained in the Georgics and Æneid, abundantly provethat Virgil received a liberal education. It is said that he acquiredthe rudiments of literature at Cremona, where he remained until he hadassumed the _toga virilis_.[531] This event, if the anonymous life is tobe depended upon, took place unusually early; for it is there assignedto the consulships of Pompey the Great and Licinius Crassus,[532] in thefirst consulship of whom he was born. From Cremona he went to Milan, andthence to Naples, where he studied Greek literature and philosophy underthe direction of Parthenius, a native of Bithynia. Muretus asserts thathe diligently read the history of Thucydides; but his favourite studieswere medicine and mathematics—an unusual discipline to engage theattention of the future poet, but one which, by its exactness, tended tofoster and mature that judgment which distinguishes his poetry. Thephilosophical sect to which he devoted himself was the Epicurean; andthe unfortunate general, P. Quintilius Varus, to whom he addresses hissixth Eclogue,[533] studied this system together with him under Syron.

After this, it is probable that he came to Rome, but soon exchanged thebustle of the capital, for which his bashful disposition and delicatehealth unfitted him, for the quiet retirement of his hereditary estate.Of this he was deprived in B. C. 42, with circumstances of greathardship, when the whole neighbouring district was divided, after thebattle of Philippi, amongst the victorious legionaries of Octavius andAntony. The town of Cremona had supported Brutus, and the old republicanparty, and Mantua, together with its surrounding district, suffered inconsequence of its too close vicinity.[534] Asinius Pollio was at thattime commander of the forces in Cisalpine Gaul. He was grinding andoppressive in his administration; but being himself an orator, poet, andhistorian, he patronised literary men. Congenial tastes recommendedVirgil to his notice, and led him to take compassion on the poet’sdesolate condition. By his advice, Virgil proceeded to Rome with anintroduction to Mæcenas. Through him he gained access to Octavius, andeither immediately before or after the peace of Brundisium[535] hislittle farm was restored to him.

He now became a prosperous man, was a member of the literary societywhich graced the table of Mæcenas, and basked in sunshine of courtfavour. Horace, Virgil, Plotius, and Varius, were united by the closestbonds of friendship with Mæecenas, and accompanied him on that cheerfulexpedition to Brundisium,[536] when he went thither in order tonegotiate a reconciliation between Octavius and Antony. HenceforthVirgil’s favourite residence was Naples.[537] Its sunny climate suitedhis pulmonary weakness far better than the low and damp banks of hisnative Mincius (Menzo.) He had, besides, a villa in Sicily, and when atRome he lived in a pleasant house on the Esquiline, situated near thoseof his friends Mæcenas and Horace. It is difficult to say how Virgilbecame so rich: patrons were liberal in those days, and he doubtlessowed a portion of his affluence to their munificence. The liberality ofMæcenas is well known; and Martial attributes the prosperity of Virgilto the favour of “the Tuscan knight.”[538] Augustus also had greatwealth at his disposal, and was profuse in the distribution of itamongst his favourites.

There is a passage in the Odes of Horace[539] which seems to hint thathe engaged to a slight extent in mercantile concerns: even if thisformed one source of his wealth, the love of gain (studium lucri,) andanxiety about the means of living, do not appear to have hindered himfrom devoting his hours of serious occupation to literary labours andthe diligent use of his well-stored library, whilst his leisure wasgiven to the delights of social intercourse, for which he was soeminently qualified by his sweet temper and amiable disposition.

The poet’s term of life was not extended far beyond fifty years. He hadnever been healthy or robust: he sometimes spat blood, and frequentlysuffered from headache and indigestion.[540] Ill health was the onlydrawback to a life otherwise passed in calm felicity. In the year B. C.19 he meditated a tour in Greece, intending, during the course of it, togive the final polish to his great epic poem. Greece and her classicscenes, the favourite haunts of the Muses, the time-honoured contests ofOlympia, the living and breathing statues which he beheld in that homeof art, evidently inspired the beautiful imagery which adorns theintroduction to the third Georgic. He, however, only reached Athens:there he met Augustus, who was on his way back from Samos, and bothreturned together. On the occasion of this voyage, Horace wrote thattender ode[541] in which he affectionately calls him “the half of hissoul:”—

 Navis quæ tibi creditum Debes Virgilium, finibus Atticis Reddas incolumem precor Et serves animæ dimidium meæ.

On the way he was seized with a mortal sickness, which was aggravated bythe motion of the vessel, and he only lived to land at Brundisium. Thepowers of nature, already enfeebled, were now totally exhausted, and heexpired on the 22nd of September. He was buried rather more than a milefrom Naples, on the road to Puteoli (Pozzuoli.) A tomb is still pointedout to the traveller which is said to be that of the poet. Nor is thisimprobable; for, although it is not situated on the present high-road,it is quite possible that the original direction of the road may havebeen changed.[542] His epitaph is said to have been dictated by himselfin his last moments:—

 Mantua me genuit; Calabri rapuere; tenet nunc Parthenope. Cecini Pascua, Rura, Duces.[543]

Virgil was deservedly popular both as a poet and as a man. His rivals inliterature could not envy one so unassuming and inoffensive hiswell-merited success, but loved him as much as they admired his poetry.The emperor esteemed him, the people respected him. “Witness,” saysTacitus,[544] “the letters of Augustus,—witness the conduct of thepeople itself, which, when some of his verses were recited in thetheatre, rose _en masse_, and showed the same veneration for Virgil, whohappened to be present among the audience, which they were wont to showto Augustus.” He was exceedingly temperate in his manner of living; sopure-minded[545] and chaste in the midst of a profligate and licentiousage, that the Neapolitans gave him the name of Parthenias (fromπαρθενος, a virgin,) unselfish, although surrounded by selfishness,kind-hearted, and sympathizing. His talents and popularity never spoiledhis natural simplicity and modesty, as his moving in the polite circlesof the capital never could entirely wear off his rustic shyness andunfashionable appearance.

He was constitutionally pensive and melancholy, and so distrustful ofhis own poems, that Augustus could not persuade him to send anunfinished portion of the Æneid to him for perusal. “As to my Æneas,” hewrites to the emperor,[546] when absent on his Cantabrian campaign, “ifI had anything worth your reading I would send it with pleasure, but thework is only just begun, and I even blame my folly for venturing upon sovast a task. But you know that I shall apply fresh and increaseddiligence to carrying out my design.” It was with real reluctance thathe subsequently read the sixth book to the Emperor and Octavia. In hislast moments he was anxious to burn the whole manuscript; and in hiswill he directed his executors, Varius and Tucca, either to improve itor commit it to the flames.[547] He was open-hearted and generous, butnot extravagant in the expenditure of his wealth, for he bequeathed tohis brother, his friends, and the Emperor, a considerable property.

It is said that Virgil’s earliest poetical essay was an epic poem, thesubject of which was the Roman wars; but that the impossibility ofintroducing Roman names in hexameter verse caused him to desist from thetask almost as soon as he had commenced it. The minor poems which arestill extant, were probably his first works. These are the _Culex_,_Ciris_, _Moretum_, _Copa_, and the shorter pieces in lyric, elegiac,and iambic metres,[548] commonly known by the name of Catalecta. The“Culex” (Gnat) is a bucolic poem, with something of a mock-heroiccolouring, of which the argument is as follows:[549] A shepherd,overcome with the heat, falls asleep beneath the shade of a tree, and avenomous serpent from a neighbouring marsh stealthily approaches. A gnatflies to his rescue, and stings him on the brow. The shepherd, awoke bythe smart, crushes his rescuer, but sees the serpent and kills it. Theghost of the gnat appears, reproaches him with his ingratitude, anddescribes the adventures he has met with in the regions of the dead. Theshepherd erects a monument in his honour, and indites the followingepigram:—

 Parve culex, pecudum custos tibi tale merenti Funeris officium vitæ pro munere reddit.

 Poor insect, thou a shepherd’s life didst save; Thou gavest a life, he gives thee but a grave.

The “Ciris,” which some have attributed to Corn. Gallus, is the Greeklegend of Scylla, who was changed into a fish, and her father Nisus intoan eagle. Great use has been made by Spenser of this poem in theconversation between Britomart and her nurse Glauce, and also inGlauce’s incantations.[550] The “Moretum,” was intended to trace theemployments of the agricultural labourer through the day; but it onlydescribes the commencement of them, and the preparation of a dish of_olla podrida_ of garden herbs called _moretum_. It contains aningenious description of a cottager’s kitchen garden. The “Copa,” is anelegiac poem, not unlike in jovial spirit the scolia or drinking songsof the Greeks: it represents a female waiter at a tavern, begging forcustom by a tempting display of the accommodations and comforts preparedfor strangers. It describes the careless enjoyment of rural festivity:the simple luxuries of grapes and mulberries, the fragrant roses, thecheerful grasshoppers, and timid little lizards of Italy. Nor are theexcitements of the dice, the joys of wine, the blandishments of loveunsung. Dull care is banished far, and the enjoyment of the present hourinculcated:—

 Pereant qui crastina curant Mors aurem vellens Vivite, ait, venio.

Amongst the lyric poems of Virgil is a very elegant one on the villa ofhis instructor in philosophy, Syron.

The poems which first established his reputation were his Bucolics orEclogues. This latter title was given them in later times, implyingeither that they were selections from a greater number of poems orimitations of passages selected from the works of Greek poets.[551]

The characters in Virgil’s Bucolics are Italians, in all theirsentiments and feelings, acting the unreal and assumed part of Sicilianshepherds. In fact, the Italians never possessed the elements ofpastoral life, and therefore could not naturally furnish the poet withoriginals and models from which to draw his portraits and characters.They were a simple people, but their simplicity was rather Ascræan thanArcadian: the domestic habits and virtues of rural life in Italy werenot unlike those of Bœtia, as described by Hesiod. Virgil, therefore,wisely took him as his model, and produced a more natural picture ofItalian manners in his Georgics than in his Eclogues. The denizens ofthe little towns had the manners and habits of municipal life: theircultivation was the artificial refinement of town life, and not thenatural sentiments of the contemplative shepherd. Those who lived in thecountry were hard-working, simple-minded peasants, who gained theirlivelihood by the sweat of their brow—honest, plain-spoken,rough-mannered, and without a grain of sentimentality. Pastoral poetryowes its origin to, and is fostered by, solitude; its most beautifulpassages are of a meditative cast. The shepherd beguiles his lonelinessby communing with his own thoughts. His sorrows are not the hardstruggles of life, but often self-created and imaginary, or at leastexaggerated. When represented as Virgil represents them in his Bucolics,they are in masquerade, and the drama in which they form the charactersis of an allegorical kind. The connexion with Italy is rather of anhistorical than a moral nature: we meet with numerous allusions tocontemporary events, but not with exact descriptions of Italiancharacters and manners. As, therefore, we cannot realize thedescriptions, we can neither sympathize nor admire. Menalcas and Corydonand Alexis, and the rest, are as much out of place as the gentlemen andladies in the garb of shepherds and shepherdesses in English familypictures. Even the scenery is Sicilian, and does not truthfully describethe tame neighbourhood of Mantua. So long as it is remembered that theyare imitations of the Syracusan poet, we miss their nationality, and seeat once that they are untruthful and out of keeping; and Virgil suffersin our estimation because we naturally compare him with the originalwhom he professes to imitate, and we cannot but be aware of hisinferiority: but if we can once divest ourselves of the idea of theoutward form which he has chosen to adopt, and forget the personality ofthe characters, we can feel for the wretched outcast, exiled from ahappy though humble home, and be touched by the simple narrative oftheir disappointed loves and child-like woes; can appreciate thedelicately-veiled compliments paid by the poet to his patron; can enjoythe inventive genius and poetical power which they display; and can beelevated by the exalted sentiments which they sometimes breathe. We feelthat it is all an illusion; but we willingly permit ourselves to betransported from the matter-of-fact realities of a hard and prosaicworld.

Virgil in his Eclogues was too much cramped by following his Greekoriginal to present us with true pictures of Italian country life;although the criticism of his friend Horace with justice attributes tohis rural pieces delicacy of touch and graceful wit:—

 molle atque facetum Virgilio annuerunt gaudentes rure Camœnæ.[552]

The Idylls of Theocritus are transfusions into appropriate Greek of oldpopular Sicilian legends which had taken root in the country, and hadbecome part and parcel of the national character. His subjects are notalways strictly pastoral, for his characters are sometimes reapers andfishermen.[553] His language, characters, sentiments, scenery, habits,incidents, are all Sicilian, and therefore all are in perfect harmony.The characters of Theocritus have a specific individuality, and aretherefore different from each other; those of Virgil are generic, therepresentatives of a class, and therefore there is little or no variety.But still Virgil’s defects do not detract much from the enjoymentexperienced in reading his Bucolic poetry. The Aminta of Tasso, thePastor Fido of Guarini, the Calendar of Spenser, the Lycidas of Milton,the Perdita of Shakspeare, the pastorals of Drayton, Drummond, andFlorian, are equally open to objection, and yet who does not admiretheir beauties?

The Bucolics may be arranged in two classes. Those in the first arecomposed entirely after the Greek model, and contain the followingpoems:—

I. The first, in which the poet, representing himself under thecharacter of Tityrus, expresses his gratitude for the restoration of hisproperty, whilst Melibœus, as an exiled Mantuan, bewails his harderfortune.

II. The second, which is generally supposed to have been the firstpastoral written by him, and is principally copied from the Cyclops ofTheocritus.

III. The third is an imitation of the fourth and fifth Idylls ofTheocritus, and as well as the seventh, represent improvisatorial trialsof musical skill between shepherds.

V. The fifth, in which two shepherds pay the last honours to a departedfriend, the one singing his epitaph, the other his apotheosis.Scaliger[554] has with good reason supposed that this poem allegorizedthe murder and deification of Julius Cæsar. It has been often imitatedby modern poets: the most beautiful imitations are Spenser’s lament forDido, Milton’s Lycidas, Drayton’s sixth Eclogue, and Pomfret’s Elegy onQueen Mary.

VIII. The eighth, which is imitated from the second and third Idylls ofTheocritus, consists of two parts; and, from the subject-matter of thesecond portion, is entitled “Pharmaceutria,” (the Enchantress.) Twoshepherds, Damon and Alphesibœus, rival Orpheus in their musical skill,for, whilst they sing, heifers forget to graze, lynxes are stupified,and rivers stop their course to listen. It was addressed by Virgil tohis kind patron Pollio, whilst employed in his expedition toIllyricum.[555] Damon, personifying an unsuccessful lover, laments thata rival has been preferred to himself. Alphesibœus, in the character ofan enchantress, goes through a formula of magical incantations in orderto regain the lost affections of Daphnis. In this poem a refrain, orintercalary verse, recurs after intervals of a few lines. In the song ofDamon, the refrain is—

 Incipe Mænalios mecum, mea tibia, versus.

In that of his opponent—

 Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.

IX. In the ninth, two shepherds converse together on the troubles whichhave befallen their neighbourhood, and one of them is represented asconveying a present of a few kids to court the favour of the newpossessor.

The second class are of a more original kind.

IV. The fourth, entitled Pollio, which is the most celebrated of themall, bears no resemblance to pastoral poetry. In the exordium, the poetinvokes the Muses of Sicilian song; but he professes to attune theirsylvan strain to a nobler theme. The melancholy Perusian war had beenbrought to a termination. The reconciliation of Anthony and Octavius hadbeen effected by the treaty of Brundisium, and all things seemed topromise peace and prosperity. The contrast was indeed a bright one,after the havoc and desolation which war had spread through Italy. Thepeace ratified with Sextus Pompey at Puteoli opened the long-closedgranaries of Sicily, and plenty succeeded to famine. The enthusiasm ofthe poet hailed the return of the fabled golden age—the reign of Saturn.The songs which the old bards of Italy professed to have learnt from theCumæan Sibyl, and to which legendary tradition attributed a propheticalmeaning, seemed to point to the new era which now dawned on the Romanempire.

The belief of the civilized world was undoubtedly at this timeconcentrated on the expectation of some great event, which should bringpeace and happiness to mankind. The divine revelation which God’s peopleenjoyed taught them now to expect the advent of the Messiah; whilsttraditions, probably derived through corrupting channels from the truelight of prophecy, taught the heathen, though more vaguely, to look forthe coming of some great one. The prophetic literature of the East mighthave travelled to Europe; and the divine prophecies of Isaiah, and theother sacred writers, may have been incorporated by native bards inItalian legends.

Bishop Lowth even supposed that the Sibylline predictions derived theirorigin from a Greek version of Messianic prophecies.[556] A belief inthe inspiration of the Sibyls prevailed in the early ages ofChristianity, and the Emperor Constantine in one of his orations[557]quotes from them, and paraphrases Virgil’s Pollio as an evidence to thetruths of the Gospel.

Some of the fathers of the Church attributed to them supernatural power;and the Italian painters, acting under the patronage of the RomanChurch, honoured the four Sibyls as participators in a knowledge of theDivine counsels. Ambrose[558] allows that they were inspired, but by thespirit of evil. Jerome[559] believes that this power was given to themby God as a reward for virginity; and Augustine[560] thinks that theypredicted many truths concerning Jesus Christ. Justin[561] adopts alegend which would account for the similarity between the Sibyllineoracles and Hebrew prophecy. He says that the Cumæan Sibyl, celebratedby Virgil, was born at Babylon, and was the daughter of Berosus, theChaldean historian.

If Virgil, in the fourth eclogue, correctly paraphrased the Sibyllinepoems, two parallelisms between them and the prophecies of Isaiah areremarkably striking:[562]—

 Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna; Jam nova progenies cœlo demittitur alto— Te duce, si qua manent sceleris vestigia nostri, Irrita perpetua solvent formidine terras— Pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem.—v. 6.

 Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son.—Is. vii. 14.

 Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever.—Is. ix. 7.

 At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultu, Errantes hederas passim cum baccare tellus, Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho.—v. 18.

 The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.—Is. xxxv. 1.

Many theories have been proposed respecting the child to whom allusionis made in this eclogue, not one of which was satisfactory toGibbon;[563] but the following is adopted by Heyne as the most probable.The peace of Brundisium was cemented by the marriage between Antony andCæsar’s half-sister Octavia. She was the widow of Marcellus, andappeared likely to give birth to a posthumous child. To this child yetunborn, the poet applies all the blessings promised by the Sibyllineoracles, and predicts that, under his auspices, the peace and prosperityalready inaugurated shall be confirmed.

VI. In the sixth, Virgil represents allegorically, under the characterof Silenus the tutor of Bacchus, his own instructor Syron; and thusmakes it the vehicle of a short account of the Epicurean philosophy. Itwas not long since the same subject had been treated of at greaterlength by the eloquent Lucretius; and it is said that when Cicero heardit recited by the mime Cytheris, he was so struck with admiration as toexclaim that he was “Magnæ spes altera Romæ.” This eclogue is parodiedby Gay in the Saturday of his Shepherd’s Week.

X. The tenth can scarcely be distinguished from any other amatory poem,except that the heroic metre is not so usual in that species of poetryas the elegiac. The loves of the poet Gallus are sung; Arcadia is fixedupon as the place of his exile; and the lay is said to be set to themusic of the oaten-pipe of Sicily: but this eclogue has no other claimto be entitled a bucolic poem.

One passage in this eclogue, which suggested the following beautifullines in Milton’s “Lycidas,” illustrates the truth that poetry oftenderives additional beauty from the fact of its being a successfulimitation:—

 Quæ nemora aut qui vos saltus habuere, puellæ Naiades, indigno cum Gallus amore periret? Nam neque Parnassi vobis juga nam neque Pindi Ulla moram fecere, neque Aonia Aganippe. _Ecl._ x. 9.

 Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep Closed o’er the head of your loved Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. _Milton’s Lycidas._

 CHAPTER IV.

BEAUTY OF DIDACTIC POETRY—ELABORATE FINISH OF THE GEORGICS—ROMAN LOVE OF

RURAL PURSUITS—HESIOD SUITABLE AS A MODEL—CONDITION OF ITALY—SUBJECTSTREATED OF IN THE GEORGICS—SOME STRIKING PASSAGES ENUMERATED—INFLUENCEOF ROMAN LITERATURE ON ENGLISH POETRY—SOURCES FROM WHICH THE INCIDENTS OF THE ÆNEID ARE DERIVED—CHARACTER OF ÆNEAS—CRITICISM OF NIEBUHR.

Didactic poetry is of all kinds the least inviting. As its professedobject is instruction, there is no reason why its lessons should beconveyed in poetical language—its purpose, could in fact, be betterattained in prose. Pretending, therefore, to poetry, it demands greatskill, elaborate finish and such graces and embellishments as willconceal its dry character, and recommend it to the reader’s attention.

The beauty of a didactic poem depends only partially on the just viewsand correct discrimination which it evinces, and principally on thebeauty of the language, the picturesque force, and pleasing character ofthe descriptions, and the interest that is thrown into the episodes. Infact, the accessaries are the parts most admired, and extracts broughtforward as specimens of this kind of poetry are invariably of this kind.Poetry naturally deals with the beauties and terrors of externalnature—with the emotions and passions, whether of a tender or violentkind—the sober practical rules of life are scarcely within its sphere.True it is that when all literature was poetical, the precepts of moraland physical philosophy, and even the dry commands of laws andinstitutions, were embodied in a metrical form; but when literaturedivides itself into poetry and prose, the subjects appropriated to eachother become spontaneously separate likewise. For this reason, theGeorgics of Virgil especially display his ability as a poet, his correcttaste the “limæ labor,” the pains which he took in polishing andcorrecting. In none of his poems can we form a better idea of thedescription which he gives of his patient toil, when he says, that “likethe she-bear he brought his poetical offspring into shape by constantlylicking them.”[564] The majesty of the language elevates the subject,and divests it of so much of the homeliness as would be inappropriate topoetry, and yet at the same time it is not too grand or elevated.

The following criticism of Addison[565] is by no means toofavourable:—“I shall conclude this poem to be the most complete,elaborate, and finished piece of all antiquity. The Æneis is of a noblerkind; but the Georgic is more perfect in its kind. The Æneis has agreater variety of beauties in it; but those of the Georgic are moreexquisite. In short, the Georgic has all the perfection that can beexpected in a poem written by the greatest poet, in the flower of hisage, when his invention was ready, his imagination warm, his judgmentsettled, and all his faculties in their full vigour and maturity.”

Rome offered a favourable field for a poet to undertake a poem on thelabours and enjoyments of rural life. Agriculture was always thereconsidered a liberal employment: tradition had adorned rustic mannerswith the attributes of simplicity and honesty, and divested them of theideas of coarseness usually connected with them. The traditions of thoseages of national freedom and greatness, to which the enthusiasm of thepoet delighted to carry back the thoughts of his readers, had connectedsome of the noblest names of history with rural labours. Curius andCincinnatus were called from the plough to defend and save theircountry; and after their task was performed they returned with delightto it again. Cato, the representative of the old and respectedgeneration, and other illustrious men, had written on the pursuits andduties of rural life. Agriculture was never connected with ideas ofdebasing and illiberal gain, such as attached to trade and commerce.

The poet, moreover, had a model ready at hand, after which to constructhis work. It was Greek, and therefore sure to be acceptable upon therecognised principles of taste. It described a species of rural life,hard, frugal, and industrious, very much like that led by theagriculturists of Italy. It painted a standard of morals, which even thelicentious inhabitants of a luxurious capital could appreciate, thoughthey had degenerated from it. The discriminating judgment of Virgil sawthat the rural life of Italy could really be represented, in the sameway in which Hesiod had painted that of Bœtia, and he wisely determined—

 To sing through Roman towns Ascræan strains.

There exists, however, precisely that difference between the Georgics ofVirgil and their model that might be expected. The Hesiodic poem belongsto a period when poetry was the accidental form—instruction theessential object; and, therefore, the teaching is systematic, precise,detailed, homely, sometimes coarse and unpolished. Virgil looks at hissubject from the poetical point of view. His precepts are often put, notin a didactic but a descriptive form; they are unhesitatinglyinterrupted by digressions and episodes, more or less to the point; andout of a vast mass of materials such only are selected as are suitableto awaken the sensibilities.

The state of Italy also contributed to enlist a poet’s sympathies infavour of the rural classes, and to devote his pen to the patriotic taskof reviving the old agricultural tastes. War had devastated the land;the peasant population had been fearfully thinned by militaryconscriptions and confiscation; wide districts had been depopulated andleft destitute of cultivation. Instead of the sword being beat into aploughshare and the spear into a pruning-hook, the Italian peasant hadwitnessed the contrary state of things. The poet laments the sad changewhich now disfigured the fair face of Italy:—

 non ullus aratro Dignus honos, squalent abductis arva colonis, Et curvæ rigidum falces conflantur in ensem. _Geo._ i. 507.

The credit of having proposed this subject to Virgil is given to hispatron Mæcenas; and, to him, consequently, the Georgics are addressed;but the poet doubtless gladly adopted the suggestion. When and where itwas commenced is uncertain, but the finishing stroke was put to it atNaples[566] some time after the battle of Actium.[567] Although the“Works and Days” of Hesiod is professedly his pattern, still he deriveshis materials from other sources. Aratus supplies him with his signs ofthe weather, and the writers _de Re Rustica_ with his practicaldirections. His system is indeed perfectly Italian; so much so, thatmany of his rules may be traced in modern Italian husbandry, just as thedescriptions of implements in Hesiod are frequently found to agree withthose in use in modern Greece.

The first book treats of tillage, the second of orchards; the subject ofthe third, which is the noblest and most spirited of them, is the careof horses and cattle; and the fourth, which is the most pleasing andinteresting, describes the natural instincts as well as the managementof bees.

But the great merit of the Georgics consists in their varieddigressions, interesting episodes, and sublime bursts of descriptivevigour, which are interspersed throughout the poem. To quote any of themwould be unnecessary, as Virgil and his translations are in every one’shands. It will be sufficient to enumerate some of the most striking.These are—

 I. The Origin of Agriculture, G. I. 125.

 II. The Storm in Harvest, I. 316.

 III. The Signs of the Weather, I. 351.

 IV. The Prodigies at the Death of Julius Cæsar, I. 466.

 V. The Battle of Pharsalia, I. 489.

 VI. The Panegyric on Italy, II. 136.

 VII. The Praises of a Country Life, II. 458.

 VIII. The Horse and Chariot Race, III. 103.

 IX. The Description of Winter in Scythia, III. 349.

 X. The Murrain of Cattle, III. 478.

 XI. The Battle of the Bees, IV. 67.

 XII. The Story of Aristæus, IV. 317.

 XIII. The Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, IV. 453.

Roman poetry was more generally understood and more diligently studiedin the most polished days of English literature, than the yet scarcelydiscovered stores of Greek learning. Want of originality was notconsidered a blemish in an age the taste of which, notwithstanding allits merits, was very artificial; whilst the exquisite polish andelegance which constitute the charm of Latin poetry, recommended it bothfor admiration and imitation. Hence English poets have been deeplyindebted to the Romans for their most happy thoughts, and our nativeliterature is largely imbued with a Virgilian and Horatian spirit. Thiscircumstance adds an especial interest to a survey of Roman literatureas the fountain from which welled forth so many of the streams that havefertilized our poetry.

The Georgics have been frequently taken as a model for imitation, andour descriptive poets have drawn largely from this source. Warton[568]considered Philips’ “Cyder” the happiest imitation; “The Seasons” of ourgreatest descriptive poet, Thomson, is a thoroughly Virgilian poem. Manystriking instances of Virgilian taste might be adduced, especially thethunder-storm in “Summer,” and the praises of Great Britain, in“Autumn.”

From the letter already quoted as preserved by Macrobius, it is clearthat the Æneid was commenced when Augustus was in Spain,[569] that itoccupied the whole of Virgil’s subsequent life, and was not sufficientlycorrected to satisfy his own fastidious taste when he died. Augustusintrusted its publication to Varius and Tucca, with strict instructionsto abstain from interpolation. They are said to have transposed thesecond and third books, and to have omitted twenty-two lines[570] asbeing contradictory to another passage respecting Helen in the sixthbook.[571] Hence in many early manuscripts these verses are wanting.

The idea and plan of the Æneid are derived from the Homeric poems. Asthe wrath of Achilles is the mainspring of all the events in the Iliad,so on the anger of the offended Juno the unity of the Æneid depends, andwith it all the incidents are connected. Many of the most splendidpassages, picturesque images, and forcible epithets are imitations oreven translations from the Iliad and Odyssey. The war with Turnus owesits grandeur and its interest to the Iliad—the wanderings of Æneas,their wild and romantic adventures to the Odyssey. Virgil’s battles,though not to be compared in point of vigour with those of Homer, shinewith a reflected light. His Necyia is a copy of that in the Odyssey. Hissimiles are most of them suggested by those favourite embellishments ofHomer. The shield of Æneas[572] is an imitation of that of Achilles. Thestorm and the speech of Æneas[573] are almost translations from theOdyssey.[574]

The thoughts thus borrowed from the great heroic poems of Greece, Virgilinterwove with that ingenuity which distinguishes the Augustan school bymeans of the double character in which he represented his hero. Thenarrative of his perils by sea and land were enriched by the marvellousincidents of the Odyssey; his wars which occupy the latter books hadtheir prototype in the Iliad. Greek tragedy, also, which depicted sofrequently the subsequent fortunes of the Greek chieftains,[575]—thenumerous translations which had employed the genius of Ennius, Attius,and Pacuvius—were a rich mine of poetic wealth. The second book, whichis almost too crowded with a rapid succession of pathetic incidents,derived its interesting details—the untimely fate of Astyanax, the lossof Creusa, the story of Sinon, the legend of the wooden horse, the deathof the aged Priam, the subsequent fortunes of Helen—from two Cyclicpoems, the Sack of Troy and the little Iliad of Arctinus. For the legendof Laocoon he was indebted to the Alexandrian poet, Euphorion. The classof Cyclic poems entitled the νοστοι suggested much of the third book,especially the stories of Pyrrhus, Helenus, and Andromache. The fourthdrew its fairy enchantments partly from Homer’s Calypso, partly from thelove adventures of Jason, Medea, and Hypsypile in the Argonautica of theAlexandrian poet, Apollonius Rhodius, which had been introduced to theRomans by the translation of Varro.

The sixth is suggested by the eleventh book of the Odyssey and thedescent of Theseus in search of Pirithous in the Hesiodic poems. Butnotwithstanding the force and originality—the vivid word-painting whichadorns this book—it is far inferior to the conceptions which Greekgenius formed of the unseen world. In the Æneid the legends of the worldof spirits seem but vulgar marvels and popular illusions. Tartarus andElysium are too palpable and material to be believed; their distinctnessdispels the enchantment which they were intended to produce; it isdaylight instead of dim shadow. We miss the outlines, which seemgigantic from their dim and shadowy nature, the appalling grandeur towhich no one since Æschylus ever attained, except the great Italian poetwho has never since been equalled.

To this rich store of Greek learning Italy contributed her nativelegends. The adventures of Æneas in Italy—the prophecy, of which thefulfilment was discovered by Iulus—the pregnant white sow—the story ofthe Sibyl—the sylph-like Camilla—were native lays amalgamated with theGreek legend of Troy. Macrobius,[576] in three elaborate chapters, hasshown that Virgil was deeply indebted to the old Latin poets. In thefirst he quotes more than seventy parallel turns of expression fromEnnius, Pacuvius, Attius, Nævius, Lucilius, Lucretius, Catullus, andVarius, consisting of whole or half lines. In the second he enumeratestwenty-six longer passages, which Virgil has imitated from the poems ofEnnius, Attius, Lucretius, and Varius, amongst which are portions of“The Praises of Rural Life,” and of “The Pestilence.”[577] In the thirdhe mentions a few (amongst them, for example, the well-known descriptionof the horse[578]) which were taken by Virgil from the old Roman poets,having been first adopted by them from the Homeric poems. The followingpassages are a few of these examples of what would in modern times beconsidered plagiarisms, but which the ancients admitted withoutreluctance:—

 Qui cœlum versat stellis fulgentibus aptum. _Ennius._

 Axem humero torquet stellis fulgentibus aptum. _V. Æn._ vi. 797.

 Est locus Hesperiam quam mortales perhibebant. Est locus Hesperiam Graii cognomine dicunt. _Æn._ i. 530.

 Unus homo nobis cunctando restituit rem. Unus qui nobis cunctando restituis rem. _Æn._ vi. 846.

 Quod per amœnam urbem leni fluit agmine flumen. —— arva Inter opima virum leni fluit agmine Tybris. _Æn._ ii. 781.

 Hei mihi qualis erat quantum mutatus ab illo. Hei mihi qualis erat quantum mutatus ab illo. _Æn._ ii. 274.

 —— discordia tetra Belli ferratos postes portasque refregit. Belli ferratos rupit Saturnia postes. _Æn._ vi. 622.

The variety of incidents, the consummate skill in the arrangement ofthem, the interest which pervades both the plot and the episodes, fullycompensate for the want of originality—a defect of which none butlearned readers would be aware. What sweeter specimens can be found oftender pathos than the legend of Camilla, and the episode of Nisus andEuryalus? Where is the turbulence of uncurbed passions united withwomanly unselfish fondness, and queen-like generosity, painted with amore masterly hand than in the character of Dido? Where, even in theIliad, are characters better sustained and more happily contrasted thanthe weak Latinus, the soldier-like Turnus, the simple-minded Evander,the feminine and retiring Lavinia, the barbarian Mezentius, who to thesavageness of a wild beast joined the natural instinct, which warmedwith the strongest affection for his son. The only character of whichthe conception is somewhat unsatisfactory is that of the hero himself:Æneas, notwithstanding his many virtues, fails of commanding thereader’s sympathy or admiration. He is full of faith in the providenceof God, submits himself with entire resignation to His divine will—isbrave, patient, dutiful—but he is cold and heartless, and, if theexpression is allowable, unchivalrous. In his war with Turnus, he is sodecidedly in the wrong, and the character of his injured adversaryshines with such lustre, and is adorned with such gallantry, that one isinclined to transfer to him the interest and sympathy which ought to befelt for the hero alone. This is undoubtedly a fault, but it iscounterbalanced by innumerable excellences.

In personification, nothing is finer than Virgil’s portraiture of Fame,except perhaps Spenser’s Despair. In description, the same genius whichshone forth in the Georgics, embellishes the Æneid also; and both theobjects and the phenomena of nature are represented in language equallyvivid and striking.

Notwithstanding the question has been much discussed, it is mostprobable that the opinion of Pope was correct respecting the politicalobject of the Æneid. He affirmed that it was as much a party-piece asDryden’s Absalom and Achitophel; that its primary object was to increasethe popularity of Augustus; its secondary one to flatter the vanity ofhis countrymen by the splendour and antiquity of their origin. Augustusis evidently typified under the character of Æneas: both were cautiousand wise in council,[579] both were free from the perturbations ofpassion; they were cold, unfeeling, and uninteresting. Their wisdom andtheir policy were calculating and worldly-minded. Augustus wasconscious, as his last words show, that he was acting a part; and thecontrast between the sentiments and conduct of Æneas, wherever the warmimpulses of affection might be supposed to have sway, likewise create animpression of insincerity. The characteristic virtue which adorns thehero of the Æneid, as the epithet “Pius” so constantly applied to himimplies, was filial piety; and there was no virtue which Augustus moreostentatiously put forward than dutiful affection to Julius Cæsar whohad adopted him.

Other characters which are grouped around the central figure areallegorical likewise—Cleopatra is boldly sketched as Dido, thepassionate victim of unrequited love. Both displayed the noble, generousqualities, and at the same time the uncontrolled self-will of a woman,who neither had nor would acknowledge any master except the object ofher affections: the fortunes of both were similar, for their brothershad become their bitterest enemies, and the fate of both alike wassuicide.

Turnus, whose character, as has been already stated, is far morechivalrous and attractive than that of Æneas, probably represented thepopular Antony; and as the latter violated the peace ratified atBrundisium and Tarentum, so the former is represented as treacherous tohis engagements with Æneas. It has even been thought, and the view hasbeen supported by many ingenious arguments, that Iapis is a portrait ofthe physician of Augustus.[580]

Virgil is especially skilful in that species of imitation which consistsin the appropriate choice of words, and the assimilation of the sound tothe sense. A series of dactyles expresses the rapid speed of horses, andthe still more rapid flight of time:—

 Quadrupedante putrem Sonitu quatit ungula campum. _Æn._ viii. 591.

 Sed fugit interea fugit irreparabile tempus. _Geo._ iii. 284.

Dignity and majesty are represented by an unusual use of spondees:—

 —— quæ Divum incedo regina. _Æn._ i. 50.

 —— penatibus et magnis Dîs. _Æn._ viii. 679.

Accelerated motion by a corresponding change of metre:—

 —— jamjam lapsura cadentique Imminet assimilis—— _Æn._ vi. 602.

Effort by a hiatus:—

 Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam.

Abruptness, or the fall of a heavy body, by a monosyllable:—

 Insequitur cumulo præruptus aquæ mons. _Æn._ i. 109.

 —— procumbit humi bos. _Æn._ v. 481.

Many other examples might be adduced[581] of that which, if it were anartifice, would be a very pleasing one, which rather proceeds from thenatural impulses of a lively fancy and a delicately-attuned ear.

Dunlop has well observed, that Virgil’s descriptions are more likelandscape-painting than any by his predecessors, whether Greek or Roman,and that it is a remarkable fact that landscape-painting was firstintroduced in his time. Pliny, in his Natural History,[582] informs usthat Ludius, who flourished in the lifetime of Augustus, invented themost delightful style of painting, compositions introducing porticoes,gardens, groves, hills, fish-ponds, rivers, and other pleasing objects,enlivened by carriages, animals, and figures. Thus, perhaps, artinspired poetry.

No one has ever attempted to disparage the reputation of Virgil asholding the highest rank amongst Roman poets, except the EmperorCaligula, J. Markland, and the great historian Niebuhr. The latter doesnot hesitate to say that the flourishing period of Roman poetry ceasedabout the time of the deaths of Cæsar and Cicero.[583] Doubtless Romannational poetry then ceased, and was succeeded by the new era of Greektaste; but still the poems of the new school were equally majestic andpathetic, and though less natural, owed to their Greek originalsincomparably greater polish, grace and sweetness.

It is difficult to understand the low opinion which Niebuhr entertainedof Virgil, and the superiority which he attributes to Catullus. He notonly declares that he is opposed to the adoration with which the laterRomans regarded him, but he denies his fertility of genius and inventivepowers. Although he acknowledges that the Æneid contains many exquisitepassages, he pronounces it a complete failure, an unhappy idea frombeginning to end. It is evident that he looked at the Æneid with the eyeof an historian, and that his objections to it were entirely of anhistorical character.

Wrapped up in Roman nationality and Italian traditions, he did notforgive Virgil for adulterating this pure source of antiquarianinformation with Greek legends. He assumes, correctly enough, that anepic poem, in order to be successful, must be a living narrative ofevents known and interesting to the mass of a nation, and at the sametime confesses that, whilst the ancient Italian traditions had alreadyfallen into oblivion, Homer was at that time better known than Nævius.Surely, then, if Virgil had drawn from Italian sources exclusively, hewould have omitted much that would have added interest to his poem inthe opinion of his hearers, and would not have complied with the epicconditions which Niebuhr himself lays down. Besides, if the traditionsof Nævius were Italian, were not many of the Greek and Italiantraditions which form the framework of the Æneid identical? Nævius musthave drawn largely from the Cyclic poems; and Niebuhr allows that Virgilcopied these parts of his poem from Nævius.[584] He asserts hisconviction that Virgil’s shield of Æneas had its model in Nævius, inwhose poem Æneas or some other hero had a shield representing the warsof the giants; and yet no one could doubt that the shield of Nævius musthave been suggested by the Homeric and Hesiodic poems. Servius alsobelieved that Virgil borrowed from the poem of Nævius the plan of theearly books of the Æneid.[585]

Some of Virgil’s minor poems are undoubtedly very beautiful;[586] but itis absurd to say that even the greatest elegance in fugitive pieces ofsuch a stamp can outshine the noble and sublime passages interwoventhroughout the whole structure of the Æneid. The dispraise of Niebuhr isas exaggerated as the fulsome compliment paid by Propertius to thegenius of his fellow-countryman:—

 Cedite, Romani scriptores, cedite Graii, Nescio quid majus nascitur Iliade. _Eleg._ ii. 27.

 CHAPTER V. THE LIBERTINI—ROMAN FEELINGS AS TO COMMERCE—BIRTH AND INFANCY OF HORACE—HIS EARLY EDUCATION AT ROME—HIS MILITARY CAREER—HE RETURNS TOROME—IS INTRODUCED TO MÆCENAS—COMMENCES THE SATIRES—MÆCENAS GIVES HIM HIS SABINE FARM—HIS COUNTRY LIFE—THE EPODES—EPISTLES—CARMEN SECULARE—ILLNESS AND DEATH.

 HORATIUS FLACCUS (BORN B. C. 65.)

Lyric poetry is the most subjective of all poetry, and the musician ofthe Roman lyre[587] was the most subjective of all Latin poets: hence acomplete sketch of his life and delineation of his character may bededuced from his works. They contain the elements of an autobiography;and, whilst they constitute the most authentic source of information,convey the particulars in the most lively and engaging form.

At the period of Horace’s birth the _Libertini_, or freedmen, wererapidly rising in wealth, and, therefore, in position. The Romanconstitution excluded the senatorial order from commercial pursuits, andwould not even permit them to own vessels of any considerable burden,lest they should be made use of in trade. The old Roman feeling was evenmore exclusive than the law. There were certain trades in which not onlynone who had any pretensions to the rank of a gentleman, but even no onewho was free-born could engage without degradation. Cicero[588]considers that money-lending, manufactures, retail trade, especially indelicacies which minister to the appetite, are all sordid and illiberal.He does not even allow that the professions of medicine and architectureare honourable, except to such as are of suitable rank. Agriculture isthe only method of money-making which he pronounces to be without anydoubt worthy of free-born men.

Devoted to the duties of public life either as soldiers or citizens, theRomans did not comprehend the dignity of labour. High-minded andunselfish as it may appear to think meanly of employments undertakensimply for the sake of profit and lucre, the political result of thispride was unmixed evil. Commerce was thus thrown into the hands of thosewhose fathers had been slaves, and who themselves inherited andpossessed the usual vices of a slavish disposition.

The middle classes were impoverished, and, as the unavoidableconsequence of a system in which social position depended upon property,were rapidly sinking into the lowest ranks of the population. Here thenwas a gap to be filled up—the question was by what means? Had Romanfeeling permitted the free-born citizen to devote his energies to labourand the creation of capital, he would have risen in the social scale,would have occupied the place left vacant, and would have brought withhim those sentiments of chivalrous freedom which there can be no doubtdistinguished Rome in earlier times, and advanced her in the scale ofnations. Thus the circulation would have been complete and healthy, andthe national system would have received fresh life and vigour in itsmost important part. Instead of this, however, slaves and the sons ofslaves rose to wealth: not such slaves as those who, well educated andoccupying a high or, at least, a respectable position in the conqueredGreek states, were appreciated by their conquerors, became their friendsand intimates, because of their worth and intellectual acquirements,imbued their masters with their own refinement and taste, and wereintrusted with the education of their children, but slaves who hadformed the masses of degraded nations. These were driven in hordes toRome. They swarmed in all the states of Italy and Sicily. Many of themwere not deficient in ability and energy, and therefore they rose; butthey had little or no moral principle. Their children intermarried withthe lower classes of the citizens; their blood infected that of thehigher European races which flowed in their veins; and thus the massesof Rome became a mixed race, but not mixed for the better. The characterchanged; but it changed because the old race had perished, and a newrace with new characteristics occupied its place.

Under such circumstances, the _Libertini_ became a powerful andimportant class, both socially and politically: they were the bankers,merchants, and tradesmen of Rome.

Of this class, the father of Horace was one of the most respectable. Hisbusiness was that of a _coactor_, or agent who collected the money frompurchasers of goods at public auctions. He was a man of strictintegrity, content with his position, and would not have thought himselfdisgraced if his son had followed his own calling.[589] He had made byhis industry a small fortune, sufficient to purchase an estate nearVenusia (Venosa,) on the confines of Lucania and Apulia, but notsufficient to free him from the appellation of “a poor man.”[590]

Here, on the 8th of December (vi^to id. Decembr.,) B. C. 65, Q. HoratiusFlaccus was born; and on the banks of the obstreperous Aufidus,[591] theroar of whose waters could be heard far off,[592] Horace passed hisinfant years, and played and wandered in that picturesque neighbourhood.The natural beauties amidst which he was nursed, probably did much toform and foster his poetic tastes. He himself relates, in one of hisfinest odes,[593] an adventure which befell him in his childhood, andwhich reminds the reader of the beautiful nursery ballad of the Childrenin the Wood:——

 Me fabulosæ Vulture in Appulo Altricis extra limen Apuliæ Ludo fatigatumque somno Fronde nova puerum palumbes

 Texere (mirum quod foret omnibus, Quicumque celsæ nidum Acherontiæ, Saltusque Bantinos, et arvum Pingue tenent humilis Ferenti,)

 Ut tuto ab atris corpore viperis Dormirem et ursis; ut premerer sacra Lauroque collataque myrto Non sine Dîs animosus infans.

 Fatigued with sleep and youthful toil of play, When on a mountain’s brow reclined I lay, Near to my natal soil, around my head The fabled woodland doves a verdant foliage spread;

 Matter, be sure, of wonder most profound To all the gazing habitants around, Who dwell in Acherontia’s airy glades, Amid the Bantian woods, or low Ferentum’s meads.

 By snakes of poison black and beasts of prey, That thus in dewy sleep unharmed I lay; Laurels and myrtle were around me piled, Not without guardian gods, an animated child. _Francis._

He remained amongst his native mountains until his eleventh or twelfthyear, when his father, wisely wishing to secure for him the benefits ofa liberal education, which the neighbouring village school of Flaviusdid not furnish, removed with him to Rome.[594] Thus he quitted Venusiafor ever, of which place many passages in his works prove that heretained very vivid recollections.[595]

At Rome he was placed under the instruction of Orbilius Pupillus, agrammarian, who had been formerly in the army, and had migrated fromBeneventum to the capital. He was celebrated as a schoolmaster, butstill more for his severity, for he was commonly called the floggingOrbilius (Plagosus Orbilius.[596]) With him young Horace read in his ownlanguage the poems of Livius Andronicus and Ennius; and in the Greek,the Iliad of Homer, whose divine poetry he soon learnt to enjoy.[597]

Whilst his father took this care of his intellectual education, heenabled him by dress and a retinue of slaves to associate on terms ofequality with boys far above him in rank and station;[598] and, what wasstill more important, he kept him under his own roof, and thus securedfor his son the benefits of home influences, sage and prudent advice,and the watchful care of the parental eye.[599] For his father’sliberality, good example, and constant attention, Horace expresses thedeepest gratitude,[600] and to him he acknowledges himself indebted forall the good points of his character. The practical nature of thisindulgent and devoted father’s instruction—how he delighted to teach byexample rather than by precept—is simply told by Horace himself[601] inone of his satires.

Before he arrived at man’s estate, it is probable that he lost his wiseadviser, for he never mentions his father except in connexion with theyears of his boyhood. Perhaps this is the reason why, in his earlierpoetry, his genial freedom so often degenerated into licentiousness, andhis love of pleasure tempted him to adopt the dissolute manners of acorrupt age. His moral sense was accurate and just—he could see what wasuseful and approve it; he could censure the vices of hiscontemporaries—but he had lost that wise counsel which had hithertopreserved him pure.

Athens was at that period the university of Rome. Thither the Romanyouth resorted to learn language, art, science, and philosophy:—

 Inter sylvas Academi quærere verum.[602]

 To seek for truth in Academic groves.

Horace commenced his residence there at a great political crisis, andthe politics of Rome created a vivid interest in the young students atAthens. He had not lived there long, when Julius Cæsar was assassinated;and many of his fellow students, as was natural to youthful and ardentminds, zealously embraced the republican party. Horace, now twenty-twoyears of age, joined the army of Brutus, and served under him until thebattle of Philippi in the rank of a military tribune.[603] He must havealready become distinguished, since nothing but merit could haverecommended the son of a freedman to Brutus for so high a militarycommand. But the event proved that he had sadly mistaken his vocation,for he was totally unfit for the position either of an officer or asoldier.

With the rest of the vanquished he fled from the field of Philippi; andin a beautiful and affectionate ode[604] to Pompeius Varus, he confessesthat he even threw away his shield; nor was he one of those who rallied,although his friend was carried back again into the bloody conflict ofthe tide of war. So at any rate he himself tells the story. It may havebeen, however, that his vanity prompted him to pretend a resemblance inthis respect to his favourite Alcæus, or perhaps he wished to address apiece of courtly flattery to the conqueror. Varus was one of hisearliest friends: together they had spent days of study and offestivity; and when troublous times had separated them, nothing canexceed the wild and tumultuous joy with which Horace looks forward to areunion with his friend.

On his return to Rome he found that his father was dead, and hispatrimony confiscated.[605] In order to obtain a livelihood, hepurchased a clerk’s place under the quæstor.[606] For its duties he musthave been totally unfit, for he hated business[607] and loved pleasureand literary ease. But on the income of this office, and the kindness ofhis friends, he lived a life of frugality and poverty.[608] It ispossible that even then he gained some profit from his poems, for hesays,[609] “Audacious poverty drove me to write verses.” Perhaps when hebecame more prosperous, he resigned his place, for he does not mentionit in the account he gives to Mæcenas of the usual, daily avocations ofhis careless and sauntering life.[610]

Soon, however, his fortunes began to brighten. His talents recommendedhim, when about twenty-four years of age, to Virgil and Varius.[611]They were then the leading poets at Rome; and Mæcenas, the polished butsomewhat effeminate friend of Augustus, was the powerful patron ofgenius and the head of literary society. These two poets were warmlyattached to Horace, whose affection for them was equally strong,[612]and to them he owed his introduction to the favourite of theemperor.[613] He felt rather timid at the interview: Mæcenas spoke tohim with his usual reserved and curt manner, took no notice of him fornine months, and then sent for him and enrolled him in the number of hisfriends. Thenceforth Horace enjoyed uninterruptedly his friendship andintimacy—of the affectionate nature of which many evidences may be foundin those poetical pieces which Horace addressed to him.

As Mæcenas rose in influence and favour with Augustus, he also procuredthe advancement of his friend. When he was sent by Augustus on thedelicate mission of effecting a reconciliation with Anthony, Horaceaccompanied him;[614] and it is not impossible that his shipwreck offCape Palinurus occurred when he was sailing with Mæcenas on hisexpedition against S. Pompey.

At this period of his life he commenced the composition of his firstbook of Satires.[615] The knowledge of human life which he had begun toacquire when he lived, as it were, upon the town, and became acquaintedwith the manners, habits and modes of thinking of the masses, wasafterwards cultivated, refined and matured by intercourse with the bestliterary society. His observant mind found ample materials for satire atthe table of the courtly Mæcenas, and amidst the brilliant circle bywhich he was surrounded. In this, his first publication, he alsointroduces himself to the reader’s notice, draws a lively picture of hisyouth, and describes the life which was congenial to his tastes, andwhich his change of circumstances permitted him to lead.

But it must not be supposed that he wrote nothing at that time exceptsatire. Some of his odes, which display the strength of youthfulpassions and the loosest morality, were probably written as separatefugitive pieces, and circulated privately amongst his friends. The odeto Canidia narrates a circumstance in the early part of his poeticalcareer. The Epodes breathe the spirit of the satirist rather than of thelyric poet; and therefore the coarsest of them[616] also may belong tothe same period,[617] although the book which bears that name was notcompleted and published as a whole until some years subsequently.

The bitterness of some of the Epodes is more suitable to his years ofadversity, and the hard struggles by which the temper is soured, than tothat life of ease and comfort which patronage enabled him to lead. Thenhis temper resumed its wonted placidity, whilst his moral taste wasrefined; his Archilochian iambics became less cutting, and his ideasless gross; personal invective was laid aside, and his indignation wasonly aroused by the prospect of political troubles and the horrors ofcivil commotions.

Mæcenas accompanied his friendship with substantial favours. He gavehim, or procured for him by his influence, the public grant of hisSabine farm. It was situated in a beautiful valley near Digentia(Licenza.) Being about fifteen miles from Tibur (Tivoli,) it wassufficiently near the capital to suit the fickle poet, who, when there,often regretted the luxury, and gossip, and brilliant society of Rome,and, when at Rome, sighed for the frugal table, the quiet retirement,the rural employment of his country abode. The rapid alternation of townand country life, which the possession of this estate enabled Horace toenjoy, gives a peculiar charm to his poetry. The scene is ever changing:his mind reflects the tenor of his life; simple pictures of rural life,and the elegant refinements of polished society, relieve one another,and prevent dulness and satiety. The property was neither extensive norfertile, but it was sufficient for his moderate wants and wishes, whichare so beautifully expressed in his sixth Satire—a poem which has foundmany modern imitators.

At Rome, Horace occupied a house on the pleasant and healthful heightsof the Esquiline. Here he resided during the winter and spring, with theexception of occasional sojourns at Baiæ, or other places of fashionableresort, on the southern coast of Italy. Summer and autumn he passed athis Sabine farm, where he was a great favourite with his simpleneighbours, and where he found all that he ever wished for, and evenmore.

 Modus agri non ita magnus, Hortus ubi, et tecto vicinus jugis aquæ fons, Et paulum silvæ super his.[618]

He coveted not his neighbour’s field,[619] even though it disfigured hisown. He never prayed that chance might throw in his way a buried vase ofsilver.[620] The calm of his life contrasted favourably with the hundredaffairs—not so much his own as of other people—which tormented him atRome;[621] the importunities of his friends that he would use hisinfluence in their behalf with Mæcenas;[622] the growing envy to whichhis good fortune subjected him:[623] his only cares were to store upprovisions for his frugal maintenance during the year,[624] so that hemight live in sweet forgetfulness of how he lived.[625] His days weredivided between the books of the ancients,[626] the philosophy of Plato,and the lively scenes of Menander.[627]

The pleasing labours of the farm served him by way of exercise, althoughhis town habits and awkwardness, and perhaps his short and stout figure,panting and perspiring under the heat and exertion, sometimes provokedgood-humoured laughter.[628] At times, although he confessed howdangerous was the siren voice of sloth, he would spend hours of musingidleness on the margin of his favourite stream, listening to itsmurmurs, and to the music of the shepherd’s reed as it echoed throughthe Arcadian glen.[629] The evenings were devoted to social conversewith honest and virtuous friends, from which scandal and gossip werebanished; the conversation usually turning on moral and philosophicaldiscussion,[630] whilst its seriousness was occasionally relieved bywitty anecdotes and pointed fables, of which those of the town andcountry mice, and of the madman who, when cured, complained that hisfriends had destroyed all the happiness of his dreamy life, furnishexamples. At these _petits soupers_, which he called “suppers of thegods,” the guests drank as much or as little as they pleased of his oldwine, and enjoyed perfect freedom from the absurd laws which Romancustom permitted the chairman (_arbiter bibendi_) on such occasions toimpose.

Sometimes, when the heat of summer was intense, he retired to the loftyPræneste (Palestrina,) where the climate was always cool andrefreshing.[631] At some period of his life, also, he became possessedof a villa at Tibur (Tivoli,) of which the shady groves and roaringwaterfalls furnished him a delightful refreshment after “the smoke, andmagnificence, and noise of Rome.” Here he wrote many of his satires, andthus achieved the reputation as a satirist of which he had laid thefoundation already; and was enabled to boast that, though earnestlydesirous of peace with the world, it were better not to provoke him;that he who dared to offend him should smart for it, and be thelaughing-stock of the whole city.[632]

The composition and arrangement of the second book of Satires probablyoccupied the thirtieth, thirty-first, and thirty-second years of thepoet’s life,[633] and it was not published until the following year.This date will allow time for the expiration of more than seven or eightyears since his intimacy with Mæcenas commenced.[634] The Satires werefollowed by the publication of the Epodes, very soon after the battle ofActium,[635] for the ninth is evidently an epinician ode on the occasionof that victory. Many of them contain noble sentiments, patrioticadvice, burning indignation against the oriental self-indulgence ofAntony,[636] the servility of Rome, its civil strife, and the degeneracyof the age; and remind us that, before Horace became an Epicurean and acourtier, he had fought against a tyrant in the ranks of freedom.[637]The first Epode was written just before the battle of Actium; the secondand third at the period when he first exchanged the life of afashionable man about town for that of a country gentleman. We see inone the delight which he derived from the consciousness that his estatewas his own; that he had no pecuniary embarrassments any longer; hisanticipations of the happiness to be enjoyed in the regularly-recurringlabours of rural life; in the absence of all care; in the kind-heartedanticipations of humble domestic felicity; the superiority of ahealthful meal to all the luxuries that wealth could purchase. In theother, notwithstanding all these professions of sentiment, he shows thathis refined urbanity is shocked by the grossness of rural habits. Hisdelicate nose cannot endure the smell of garlic: to him it is nothingless than poison, such as Canidia or Medea might have used. It is moredeadly than the malaria of Apulia, or the envenomed robe steeped in theblood of Nessus. Nay, in the same spirit Johnson said that “He who wouldmake a pun would pick a pocket,” he does not scruple to affirm that agarlic-eater would commit parricide.

The seventh Epode is a burst of indignant expostulation against thefratricidal madness which, at the bidding of an unprincipled woman,armed Romans against each other in that tragical episode, the Perugianwar, when the first struggle took place between the civilians and thesoldiers for political influence and power. In the Epodes the spirit isthat of the satirist exaggerated. The outward form which he had modelledby a careful study of the Archilochian verse, prepared him for thecultivation of that poetry in which he stands pre-eminent. It was thestate of transition through which he passed before he became a lyricpoet.

With their publication concludes the first period of Horace’s literarylife. It was now flowing on calmly and peaceably, undisturbed by anxietyeither about himself or his country. Although the civil wars were notyet ended, or the peace of the world solemnly and finally proclaimed,until the temple of Janus was closed,[638] the course of Octavius touniversal empire lay plain and open before him. Rome was at his feet,and owed to him its safety and prosperity.

Public and private well-doing developed a new phase of Horace’s genius.His muse soared to heights which had only been attempted by Pindar andthe other Greek lyric poets. It cannot, of course, be supposed that helived to the age of thirty-five years without having written many ofthose odes, which are so full of a youthful sprightliness and burningpassion; but it is certain that many more were written, and the firstthree books published, during the period of eight years included betweenhis thirty-fifth and forty-second years;[639] some when he wasapproaching, others when he had passed, his eighth lustre. In thesethree books it is probable that Horace intended all the products of hislyric muse should be comprised: to this purpose the last ode of thethird book[640] seems to point. He considered his work done; and he wasnot insensible to the successful manner in which he had accomplished it.With conscious pride, and in a prophetic spirit, he exclaimed—

 Exegi monumentum ære perennius.

He intended his beloved friend and patron, Mæcenas, to be the subject ofhis last, as he was of his first, song. His introductory satire—thecommencement of his published works—was addressed to him; the last odein the book[641] (except that final one which proclaims his taskfinished) is a noble farewell, breathing the language of affectionatecompliment;[642] and in the introduction to his new work, the labour ofhis maturer years, the fruit of careful judgment respecting men andthings, he states his determination to finish his career as a poet, andto devote his last verses to his patron.

A few years after the first three books of the Odes, Horace publishedthe first book of the Epistles. Bentley assigns the appearance of thesefinished and elaborate compositions to B. C. 19, Clinton to B. C. 20.The _Carmen Seculare_, which appeared B. C. 17, on the occasion of thecelebration of the Secular Games, and the fourth book of the Odes, whichwas published B. C. 13, were written at the personal request of theEmperor. He wished him to celebrate the victories gained over Vindeliciby his step-sons, Tiberius and Drusus. His compliance with the wishes ofAugustus was a graceful return for the regard and affection which theletters of the Emperor show that he felt for the poet.[643] The warmadmiration which, these odes express, the praises which are lavished inthem, upon Augustus and his step-sons Tiberius and Drusus, may seeminconsistent with the poet’s former republicanism; but who couldwithstand the proffered friendship, the winning courtesy, thegood-tempered condescension of his patron?

Besides, the experience of the past years must have forced himconscientiously to believe that the reign of Augustus was indeed ablessing to his country, and that his countrymen were totally unfit forreal liberty, as they showed themselves quite content with the emptyshadow of the constitution. He felt peace and repose were to bepurchased by almost any sacrifice except that of honourable principle;that not only all the enjoyments of life were secured to himself to anextent equalling, if not surpassing, the wishes of his contented spirit,but that a similar measure of happiness was pretty generally diffused.He could not sympathize with political ambition, which had been thefruitful source of civil anarchy, and it was only the ambitious who hadany cause to be dissatisfied. Doubtless the older he grew the strongerwas the obligation which he felt to him who, by the lofty position whichhe had attained, had apparently prevented even the possibility ofrevolution or change. It is certain that the second book of theEpistles, and that addressed to the Pisos, which is commonly called theArt of Poetry, were written and published during the last years of hislife; but the date cannot be exactly determined. He had long bid adieuto the excitements of politics; nor do these, his latest works, exhibittraces of his fondness for discussing questions of moral science, or forthe profounder speculations of natural philosophy. He limits himself tothe neutral ground of literature; and writes only as a writer whosejudgment would be undisputed, because his works in their severaldepartments had actually formed the taste of his contemporaries.

In November, B. C. 8, A. U. C. 746, Horace was seized with a suddenattack of illness, and died in the fifty-seventh year of his age. Hisold friend Mæcenas had expired but a few months before. They were buriednear one another on the slope of the Esquiline.

His death was so sudden that he was unable to write a will; he had butjust time before he expired to nominate, according to a common custom,the Emperor his heir.

Horace was never married; he was too general an admirer, and his tastesand habits were too much those of a bachelor, to appreciate thehappiness of a wedded life. In this respect his feelings resembled thoseof the voluptuous and selfish society of his times. He was of small andslight figure,[644] but afterwards he grew corpulent.[645] The vigourwhich he enjoyed in early youth[646] was diminished by ill health; hebecame prematurely gray,[647] and a passage in one of his Odes seems toimply that he was a valetudinarian at forty.[648]

 CHAPTER VI.

CHARACTER OF HORACE—DESCRIPTIONS OF HIS VILLA AT TIVOLI, AND HIS SABINEFARM—SITE OF THE BANDUSIAN FOUNTAIN—THE NEIGHBOURING SCENERY—SUBJECTS OF

 HIS SATIRES AND EPISTLES—BEAUTY OF HIS ODES—IMITATIONS OF GREEK POETS—SPURIOUS ODES—CHRONOLOGICAL ARRANGEMENT.

The life of Horace is especially instructive, as a mirror in which isreflected a faithful image of the manners of his day. He is therepresentative of Roman refined society, as Virgil is of the nationalmind. He who understands Horace and his works can picture to himself thesociety in which he lived and moved. One cannot sympathize withPetrarch, when he says “Se ex nullo poeta Latino evasisse meliorem quamex Horatio,” or exclaim with the devoted Mæcenas,

 Ni te visceribus meis Horati Plus jam diligo, tu tuum sodalem Ninnio videas strigosiorem—

but still it is scarcely possible not to feel an affection for him.Notwithstanding his selfish Epicureanism, he possessed those elements ofcharacter which constitute the popularity of men of the world. He was agentleman in taste and sentiments. He would not have denied himself anygratification for the sake of others; but he would not willingly havecaused any one a moment’s uneasiness, nor was he ever ungrateful tothose who were kind to him. He was a pleasant friend and a good-humouredassociate, adroit in using the language of compliment, but not aflatterer, because he was candid and sincere. He changed his politics,but he had good cause for so doing. The circumstances of the timesfurnished ample justification. His morals were lax, but not worse thanthose of his contemporaries: all that can be said is, that he was not inadvance of his age. His principles will not bear comparison with a highmoral standard; but he had good qualities to compensate for his moraldeficiencies. He looked at virtue and vice from a worldly, not a moralpoint of view. With him the former was prudence, the latter folly. Vice,therefore, provoked a sneer of derision, and not indignation at the sinor compassion for the sinner; and for the same reason he was incapableof entertaining a holy enthusiasm for virtue.

Good-tempered as a man, he nevertheless showed that he belonged to the_genus irritabile vatum_. He was jealous of his poetical reputation;not, indeed, towards his contemporaries, but towards the poets of formerages. He either could not or would not see any merit in old Romanpoetry. His prejudice cannot be ascribed only to his enthusiasm forGreek literature, for he did not even appreciate the excellences whichthe old school of poetry had in common with the Greeks. Party spirit hadsomewhat to do with it, for a feud on the subject divided the literarysociety of the day,[649] and hence Horace took his side warmly anduncompromisingly.

But the principal cause was jealousy—unless he ignored Lucilius andCatullus, he could not claim to have been the first follower ofArchilochus of whom Rome could boast; or, as the representative of Romanlyric poetry, to have first tuned his lyre to Æolian song.

The scenes in which Horace passed his life are so interesting to everyreader of his works, that a few words respecting his villa at Tivoli andhis Sabine farm will not be out of place here. Tibur[650] is situated onone of the spurs of the Appennines, about fifteen or sixteen miles fromRome, on the left bank of the Anio (Teverone.) The river winds gently bythe town, separating it from the villa of Horace, and then, falling in asheet of water over an escarped rock, disappears beneath a rocky cavern.Its roaring echoes are heard far and wide, and justifies the epithet(_resonans_,) which Horace gives to the dwelling of Albunea, theTiburtine Sibyl. The villa commanded fine views, and a garden slopeddown from it to the river’s bank. From its grounds was visible thepalace of Mæcenas: on the opposite shore the wooded Sabine hillssheltered it from the north; and the domain of the poet’s friend,Quintilius Varus, formed its western boundary.

About fifteen miles north-east of Tibur, nestling amongst the roots ofMount Lucretilis, lay the Sabine farm. Fragments of white marble, andmosaic, which have been found there, show that, notwithstanding thesimple frugality which Horace delights to describe, it was built andembellished with elegance and taste. From the mountain side, which risesbehind the house, trickles a clear stream, the source of which is nowcalled Fonte Bello, and which afterwards becomes the river Digentia(Licenza,) and waters the beautiful valley of the sloping Ustica(_Usticæ Cubantis_.) This rill, the parent of Horace’s favourite river,the embellisher of that “_riant_ angle of the earth,” is interesting asbeing probably the fountain of Bandusia, “more transparent thanglass,”[651] with whose fresh and sparkling waters the poet tempered hiswine.

M. de Chaupy[652] assumes that the Bandusian fountain, mentioned byHorace, was situated near the birthplace of Horace, on theLucano-Apulian border. His opinion rests on the words of a grant made byPope Pascal II. to the abbot of the Bantine monastery; and Mr.Hobhouse[653] considers this document as decisive in ascertaining itsposition. It is decisive as to the existence of a Bandusian fountainnear Venusia; but it must be remembered that Horace never saw it afterthe days of his childhood, when his paternal estate passed away from himfor ever, whilst he speaks of his Bandusian fountain as near him, whenhe writes, and promises to sacrifice a kid to the guardian genius of thespring. What, then, is more probable than the suggestion of Mr.Dunlop,[654] that the same pleasing recollections of his early years,which inspired him to relate his touching adventure, led him to “namethe clearest and loveliest stream of his Sabine retreat after thatfountain which lay in Apulia, and on the brink of which he had no doubtoften sported in infancy?”[655] He has in one of his odes alluded tothis affectionate desire to perpetuate reminiscences of home—a desirewhich is illustrated by the topographical nomenclature which has beenadopted by colonists of every age and country.

Mr. Dennis, however, in a letter written at Licenza,[656] in sight ofthe pleasant shades of M. Lucretilis, although he makes no doubt of theBandusian fountain being in the neighbourhood, does not identify it withthe “Fonte Bello.” He asserts that, although he has traced everystreamlet in the neighbourhood, the only one which answers to theclassical description is one now called “Fonte Blandusia.” It rises in anarrow glen which divides the Mount Lucretilis from Ustica, whichprobably derives its modern name _Valle Rustica_ from a corruption ofthe classical appellation. As you ascend the glen it contracts into aravine with bare cliffs on either side; the streamlet with difficultywinds its way between mossy rocks (_musco circumlita saxa_,)overshadowed with dense woods which effectually exclude the heat of theblazing Dog-star. The water issues from a rock, and trickles into twosuccessive natural basins. “The water is indeed _splendidior vitro_;nothing, not even the Thracian Hebrus, can exceed it in purity,coolness, and sweetness: ‘its loquacious waters still bubble;’ the veryilices still overhang the hollow rocks whence it springs.”

A reference to Horace’s description[657] will prove to the moderntraveller through this classic region with what fidelity and accuracythe poet has described the natural features of the scenery. The mountainchain is continuous and unbroken (_continui montes_,) save by the wellwooded and therefore shady valley of the Digentia, which intersects itin such a direction that—

 Veniens dextrum latus aspiciat sol, Lævum decedens curru fugiente vaporet.

Another valley meets it, and on an exposed height, at the point ofjunction, stands Bardela, in Horace’s time Mandela, and well describedby him as _rugosus frigore pagus_.[658] Corn grows on the sunny field(apricum pratum) which slopes from the farm to the river: the ruins ofother dwellings mark the spot occupied by five domestic hearths, andsending five honest representatives to the municipal council of theneighbourhood:—

 —— habitatum quinque focis, et Quinque bonos solitum Variam dimittere patres.[659]

A comparison of the truthful and descriptive verses of Horace identifythe spot which he loved. Nature is the same now as it was then; buthuman skill and perseverance have adorned with the purple clusters ofthe vine that “little corner of the world” which Horace said would bearpepper and frankincense more quickly than grapes.[660]

The Satires of Horace occupy the position of the comedy of manners andthe fashionable novel. They are much more appropriately described by thetitle _Sermones_ (Discourses) which is also given to them. They are, infact, desultory didactic essays, in which the topics are discussed justas they present themselves. In them is sketched boldly butgood-humouredly a picture of Roman social life with its vices andfollies. His object was (to use his own words)—

 Ut omnis Votivâ pateat veluti descripta tabellâ Vita. _Sat._ II. i. 32.

Vices, however, are treated as follies; and the man of wit and pleasureseldom uses a weapon more keen than the shafts of ridicule:—

 Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico Tangit et admissus circum præcordia ludit. _Persius_, S. i. 116.

 Arch Horace, while he strove to mend, Probed all the foibles of his smiling friend; Played lightly round and round the peccant part, And won unfelt an entrance to his heart; Well skilled the follies of the crowd to trace, And sneer with gay good humour in his face. _Gifford._[661]

There is nothing of the political bitterness of Lucilius,[662] the loveof purity and honour which adorns Persius, or the burning indignationwhich Juvenal pours forth at the loathsome corruption of morals. Horacehad been a politician and a warm champion of liberty; but the strugglewas now over, both with himself and his country. Ease and tranquillitywere insured to both by the new régime; and his contented temperdisposed him to acquiesce in a state of things which gave Rome time torest from the horrors of civil war, and did not interfere with theindependence of the individual. Hence the circumstances of the times, aswell as his own temper, rendered his satires social and not political.Lucilius wrote when the strife between nobles and people was stillraging, and the latter had not as yet succumbed. He, therefore, breathedthe spirit of the old Athenian comic poets whom he followed andemulated; and the war of public opinion furnished him with topicssimilar to those which were discussed in the republican commonwealth ofAthens.

Circumstances also influenced, in some degree, the tone of Horace’sstrictures on the habits of social life. Immoral as society was, itsmost salient features were luxury, frivolity, extravagance, andeffeminacy. Vice had not reached that appalling height which it attainedin the time of the emperor who succeeded Augustus. Deficient in moralpurity, an Epicurean and a debauchee, nothing would strike him asdeserving censure, except such success as would actually defeat theobject which he proposed to himself—namely, the utmost enjoyment oflife. The dictates of prudence, therefore, would be his highest standardand his strongest check. He saw that public morals were alreadydeteriorated, and threatened to become worse; but though they were badenough to provoke derision, they did not shock or revolt one who was,and who professed to be, a man of the world. Had Horace lived in thetime of Persius or Lucilius, even his satire would probably have beenpointed and severe.

Often his satires are only accidentally didactic; he contents himselfwith graphic delineations of character and manners, and leaves them toproduce their own moral effect upon the reader. In one[663] he holds upthe superstition of the Romans to ridicule by a minute narrative of theabsurd ceremonies performed by Canidia and another sorceress in theirincantations. In another,[664] amusingly describes the annoyance towhich he was exposed by the importunities of a gossiping trifler. In thejourney to Brundisium he seems to have had no view beyond entertainment;although two incidents give him an opportunity of exposing the pomposityof a municipal official and the superstitious follies of a countrytown.[665] In others, his subjects are the scenery and neighbouringsociety of his Sabine valley;[666] the way in which he is wont to spendhis day when at Rome; his own autobiography;[667] a laughable trial inAsia;[668] an essay on cookery;[669] and a candid exposure of his ownfaults and inconsistencies. Not that he is forgetful of his moral dutiesas a satirist. He exposes to merited contempt the prevailing iniquitiesof the day. The meanness of legacy-hunting; the absurdity of pretensionand foppery; the folly of an inordinate passion for amassingwealth;[670] the dangers of adultery;[671] the unfairness ofuncharitably misinterpreting the conduct of others.[672]

Such are the varied subjects contained in the _Sermones_ or Satires ofHorace. The Epistles are still more desultory and unrestrained.Epistolary writing is especially a Roman accomplishment. The Romansthought their correspondents deserved that as much pains should bebestowed on that which was addressed to them as on that which wasintended for the public eye; and, in addition to the careful polish ofwhich Cicero set the example, Horace brought to the task theembellishment of poetry. In the Epistles, he lays aside the character ofa moral teacher or censor. He treats his correspondent as an equal. Heopens his heart unreservedly: he gives advice, but in a kind and gentlespirit, not with sneering severity. The satire is delivered _excathedrâ_;—the epistle with the freedom with which he would conversewith an intimate friend.

The subjects of the first books are moral, those of the second critical.The _Ars Poetica_ is but a poetical epistle addressed to the Pisos, whohad been bitten by the prevailing mania for tragic poetry. The usualtitle claims a far greater extent of subject than the poet intended. Itis not a treatise on poetry, but simply an outline of the history of theGreek drama, and the principles of criticism applicable to it. Itharmonizes well with the literary subjects treated of in the second bookof the Epistles, and might well be included in it. It is, indeed, longerand more elaborate: a synopsis of so extensive a subject required morecareful treatment; but it is impossible to form a correct estimate ofthe taste and judgment which it displays, unless it is considered asnothing more than an epistle.

The versification of these compositions is more smooth than that of theSatires, but only in proportion to the superior neatness of the stylegenerally. In neither does the metrical harmony rise to the height ofpoetry, properly speaking. Doubtless this was the poet’s deliberateintention. It cannot be supposed that he who could so successfullyintroduce all the beautiful Greek lyric metres, and in some casesimprove the delicacy of their structure, was incapable of reproducingthe rhythm of the Greek hexameter. He felt that in subjects belonging tothe prosaic realities of life, and hitherto treated with theconversational facility of the iambic measure, some appearance ofnegligence and even roughness could alone render the stately hexameterappropriate, and therefore tolerable. But, admirable as the Satires arefor their artistic and dramatic power, and the Epistles for theircorrect taste, lively wit, and critical elegance, it is in hisinimitable Odes that the genius of Horace as a poet is especiallydisplayed. They have never been equalled in beauty of sentiment,gracefulness of language, and melody of versification. They comprehendevery variety of subject suitable to the lyric muse. They rise withouteffort to the most elevated topics—the grandest subjects of history, themost gorgeous legends of mythology, the noblest aspirations ofpatriotism: they descend to the simplest joys and sorrows of every-daylife. At one time they burn with indignation, at another they pour forthaccents of the tenderest emotions. They present in turn every phase ofthe author’s character: some remind us that he was a philosopher and asatirist; and although many are sensuous and self-indulgent, they arefull of gentleness, kindness, and spirituality. Not only do they evincea complete mastery over the Greek metres, but also show that Horace wasthoroughly imbued with the spirit of Greek poetry, and had profoundlystudied Greek literature, especially the writings of Pindar and thelyric poets. Numerous as the instances are in which he has imitatedthem, and introduced by a happy adaptation their ideas, epithets, andphrases, his imitations are not mere plagiarisms or purple patches—theyare made so completely his own, and are invested with so much noveltyand originality, that, when compared with the original, we receiveadditional gratification from discovering the resemblance. Thesentiments which are paraphrased seem improved: the expressions whichare translated seem so appropriate, and harmonize so exactly with thecontext, that a poet, whose memory was stored with them, would have beenguilty of bad taste if he had substituted any others. Greek feelings,sentiments, and imagery, are so naturally amalgamated with Romanmanners, that they seem to have undergone a transmigration, and toanimate a Roman form. The following are some of the most strikingparallelisms:[673]—

 Sunt quos curriculo, &c. _Carm._ 1, 3, _seq._

 Ἀελλοποδων μεν τινας ευφραινουσιν ἱππων τιμαι και στεφανοι· τους δ’ εν πολυχρυσοις θαλαμοις βιοτα· τερπεται δε και τις επ’ οιδμ’ αλιον ναι θοα σως διαστειχων. _Pind. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Jam te premet nox, fabulæque Manes, Et domus exilis Plutonia: quo simul mearis, Nec regna vini sortiere talis, &c. _Carm._ 1, 4, 16, _seq._

 Κατθανοισα δε κεισ’, ουδεποτε μναμοσυνα σεθεν εσσετ’ ουδεποτ’ εις υστερον. ου γαρ πεδεχεις βροδων των εκ Πιεριας. αλλ’ αφανης κην Αιδα δομοις φοιτασεις πεδ’ αμαυρων νεκυων εκπεποταμενα. _Sapph. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Vides, ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte, nec jam sustineant onus Silvæ laborantes, geluque Flumina constiterint acuto? Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco Large reponens; atque benignius Deprome quadrimum Sabina, O Thaliarche, merum diota. _Carm._ 1, 9. _seq._

 Υει μεν ο Ζευς, εκ δ’ ορανω μεγας χειμων · πεπαγασιν δ’ υδατων ροαι. · · · · · · · · · Καββαλλε τον χειμων’, επι μεν τιθεις πυρ, εν δε κιρναις οινον αφειδεως μελιχρον· αυταρ αμπι κορσα μαλθακον αμπιτιθει γναφαλλον. _Alcæi Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Quem virum aut heroa lyra vel acri Tibia sumis celebrare, Clio? Quem Deum? cujus recinet jocosa Nomen imago, &c. _Carm._ 1, 12, _seq._

 Ἀναξιφορμιγγες υμνοι τινα θεον, τιν’ ηρωα, τινα δ’ ανδρα κελαδησομεν. _Pind. Ol._ 2, 1.

 O navis, referent in mare te novi Fluctus? O quid agis? fortiter occupa Portum. Nonne vides, ut Nudum remigio latus, Et malus celeri saucius Africo Antennæque gemant? ac sine funibus Vix durare carinæ Possint imperiosius Æquor? _Carm._ 1, 14, _seq._

 Το μεν γαρ ενθεν κυμα κυλινδεται, Το δ’ ενθεν· αμμες δ’ αν το μεσσον ναι φορημεθα συν μελαινα, Χειμωνι μοχθευντες μεγανω καλων· παρ μεν γαρ αντλος ιοτοπεδαν εχει, λαιφος δε παν ζαδηλον ηδη, και λακιδες μεγαλαι κατ αυτο Χαλασι δ’ αγκυραι ... _Alcæi Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Nullam, Vare, sacra vite prius severis arborem. _Carm._ 1, 18, _seq._

 Μηδεν αλλο φυτευσης προτερον δενδρεον αμπελω. _Alcæi Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloe, Quærenti pavidam montibus aviis Matrem, non sine vano Aurarum et silvæ metu. _Carm._ 1, 23, _seq._

 Ατε νεβρον νεοθηλεα γαλαθηνον, ος εν υλη Κεροεσσης απολειφθεις υπο μητρος επτοηθη. _Anacr. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 O Venus, regina Gnidi Paphique, Sperne dilectam Cypron, &c. _Carm._ 1, 30, _seq._

 Κυπρον ιμερταν λιποισα και Παφον περιρρυταν. _Alcman. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Quid dedicatum poscit Apollinem Vates? quid orat, de patera novum Fundens liquorem? &c. _Carm._ 1, 31, _seq._

 Τι δ’ ερδων, φιλος σοι τε, καρτεροβροντα Κρονιδα, φιλος δε Μοισαις, Ευθυμια τε μελων ειην, τουτ’ αιτημι σε. _Pind. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero Pulsanda tellus, &c. _Carm._ 1, 37, _seq._

 Νυν χρη μεθυσκειν, και τινα προς βιαν πινειν, επειδη κατθανε Μυρσιλος. _Alcæi Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Nullus argento color est avaris Abdito terris, inimice lamnæ Crispe Sallusti, nisi temperato Splendeat usu. _Carm._ 2, 2, _seq._

 Ουκ εραμαι πολυν εν μεγαρω πλουτον κατακρυψαις εχειν αλλ’ εοντων, ευ τε παθειν και ακουσαι, φιλοις εξαρκεων. _Pind. Nem._ 1, 45.

 * * * * *

 Sævius ventis agitatur ingens Pinus. _Carm._ 2, 10, 9, _seq._

 Ου θρυον ου μαλαχην ανεμος ποτε, τας δε μεγιστας, η δρυας η πλατανους οιδε χαμαι καταγειν. _Lucian. in Anthol._

 * * * * *

 Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume, Labuntur anni: nec Pietas moram Rugis et instanti Senectæ Adferet, indomitæque Morti. _Carm._ 2, 14, _seq._

 Ἀλλ’ ολιγοχρονιον γιγνεται, ωσπερ οναρ, ηβη τιμηεσσα· το δ’ αργαλεον και αμορφον γηρας υπερ κεφαλης αυτιχ’ υπερκρεμαται. _Mimnerm. Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Quid brevi fortes jaculamur ævo Multa? _Carm._ 2, 16, 17.

 —— Ω κενοι βροτων, οι τοξον εντεινοντες ως καιρου περα. _Eurip. Suppl._ 754.

 * * * * *

 —— Nihil est ab omni Parte beatum. _Carm._ 2, 16, 27.

 Ουκ εστιν ουδεν δια τελους ευδαιμονουν. _Eurip. Suppl._ 281.

 * * * * *

 Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. _Carm._ 3, 2, 13.

 Τεθναμεναι γαρ καλον επι προμαχοισι πεσοντα ανδρ’ αγαθον περι η πατριδι μαρναμενον. _Tyrtæi Fragm._

 * * * * *

 Mors et fugacem persequitur virum. _Carm._ 3, 2, 14.

 Ο δ’ αυ Θανατος εκιχε και τον φυγομαχον. _Simonides._

 * * * * *

 Ætas parentum, pejor avis, tulit Nos nequiores, mox daturos Progeniem vitiosiorem. _Carm._ 3, 6, 46, _seq._

 Οιην χρυσειοι πατερες γενεην ελιποντο Χειροτερην! υμεις δε κακωτερα τεξειεσθε. _Arati Phænom._ 123.

 * * * * *

 Pulchris excubat in genis. _Carm._ iv. 13, 8.

 Ος εν μαλακαις παρειαις νεανιδος εννυχευεις. _Soph. Antig._ 779.

 * * * * *

 Dis miscent superis. Ἀθανάτοις ἔμιχθεν. _Pindar. Isthm._ 2, 42.

 Nube candentes humeros amictus. Νεφέλῃ εἰλυμένος ὤμους. _Hom. Il._ εʹ, 186.

 Erycina ridens. Φιλομειδὴς Ἀφροδίτη. _Hom. Il._ νʹ, 424.

 Officinas Cyclopum. Ἡφαίστοιο καμίνοις. _Callim. Fragm._ 129.

 Nitidum caput. Λιπαρὰν ἔθειραν. _Simonid. (Anth. Gr.)_

 Duplicis Ulixei. Διπλοῦς ἀνήρ. _Eurip. Rhes._ 392.

 Superis parem. Δαίμονι ἶσος. _Hom. Il._ εʹ, 438.

 Aptum equis Argos. Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο. _Hom. Il._ βʹ, 287.

 Ditesque Mycenas. Μυκήνας τὰς πολυχρύσους. _Sophocl. Elect._ 9.

 Nil desperandum. Ἄελπτον οὐδέν. _Eurip. Fragm._

 Deorum nuntium. Ἄγγελον ἀθανάτων. _Hom. Hymn in Merc._ 3.

 Marinæ filium Thetidis. Παῖς ἁλίας Θέτιδος. _Eurip. Androm._ 108.

 Carpe diem. Καιρὸν λάβε. _Æsch. Sept. adv. Th._ 65.

 Difficile bile. Χόλου ἀργαλέοιο. _Hom. Il._ κʹ, 107.

 Melior patre. Πατέρων ἀμείνονες εὐχόμεθ’ εἶναι. _Hom. Il._ δʹ, 405.

 Mordaces solicitudines. Γυιοβόρους μελεδῶνας. _Hesiod._ Ἐργ, 66.

 Dulce ridentem. Γελάσας ἰμέροεν. _Sappho._

 Dulce loquentem. Ἀδὺ φωνοίσας. _Sappho._

 Funera densentur. Θνῆσκον ἐπασσύτεροι. _Hom. Il._ αʹ, 383.

 Fulgentes oculos. Ομματα μαρμαίροντα. _Hom. Il._ γʹ, 397.

 Bellum lacrymosum. Πόλεμον δακρυόεντα. _Hom. Il._ εʹ, 737.

 Vacuum aera. Ἐρήμας δι’ αἰθέρος. _Pind. Ol._ αʹ, 10.

 Loquaces lymphæ. Λαλὸν ὕδωρ. Fulmine caduco. Καταιβάτης κεραυνός. _Æsch. Pr. V._ 359.

 Vis consili expers. Ῥώμη ἀμαθής. _Eurip. Fragm._

 Flagitio additis damnum. Πρὸς αἰσχύνῃ κακόν. _Eurip. Rhes._ 102.

 Aquæ augur cornix. Ὑετόμαντις κορώνη. _Euphorion._

 Lentus amor. Βραδινὰ Αφροδίτα. _Sappho._

 Aquosa Ida. Πολυπίδακος Ἴδης. _Hom. Il._ ξʹ, 157.

 Obliquum meditantis ictum. Δοχμώ τ’ ἀΐσσοντε. _Hom. Il._ μʹ, 148.

 Gelu acuto. Χιόνος ὀξείας. _Pind. Pyth._ αʹ, 39.

 Dulci fistula. Γλυκὺς αὐλός. _Pind. Ol._ ιʹ, 114.

 Testudinis aureæ. Χρυσέα φόρμιγξ. _Pind. Pyth._ αʹ, 1.

 Magnæ linguæ. Μεγάλης γλώσσης. _Sophocl. Antig._ 12.

 Morti atræ. Μέλανος θανάτοιο. _Hom. Il._ βʹ, 834.

 Aureo plectro. Χρυσέῳ πλάκτρῳ. _Pind. Nem._ εʹ, 44.

 Supremum iter. Ὑστάτην ὁδόν. _Eurip. Alcest._ 686.

 Nescios fari infantes. Νήπια τέκνα. _Hom. Il._ βʹ, 311.

 Noctilucam. Νυκτιλαμπής. _Simonides._

 Purpureo ore. Πορφυρέου ἀπὸ στόματος. _Simonides._

 Mens trepidat metu. Δειματὶ πάλλει. _Soph. Æd. Tyr._

The two following[674] odes have been attributed to Horace, but there isno doubt that they are spurious. It was pretended that they werediscovered in the Palatine Library at Rome by Pallavicini: no MS.,however, of Horace, containing them, has ever yet been found:—

 AD IULIUM FLORUM.

 Discolor grandem gravat uva ramum Instat Autumnus; glacialis anno Mox Hiems volvente aderit, capillis Horrida canis. Jam licet Nymphas trepide fugaces Insequi lento pede detinendas; Et labris captæ, simulantis iram, Oscula figi. Jam licet vino madidos vetusto De die lætum recitare carmen; Flore, si te des, hilarem licebit Sumere noctem. Jam vide curas aquilone sparsas! Mens viri fortis sibi constat, utrum Serius leti citiusve tristis Advolat aura.

 * * * * *

 AD LIBRUM SUUM.

 Dulci libello nemo sodalium Forsan meorum carior extitit; De te merenti quid fidelis Officium domino rependes? Te Roma cautum territat ardua; Depone vanos invidiæ metus; Urbisque, fidens dignitati, Per plateas animosus audi. En quo furentes Eumenidum choros Disjecit almo fulmine Jupiter! Huic ara stabit, fama cantu Perpetuo celebranda crescet.

According to Bentley, the works of Horace were written in the followingchronological order:—

 Satires Book I. in his 26th, 27th, and 28th years. Satires “ II. “ 31st, 32d, and 33d years. Epodes “ 34th and 35th years. Odes “ I. “ 36th, 37th, and 38th years. Odes “ II. “ 40th and 41st years. Odes “ III. “ 42d and 43d years. Epistles “ I. “ 46th and 47th years. Odes “ IV. } “ 49th, 50th and 51st years. Secular Hymn } Epistle to the Pisos } uncertain. Epistles “ II. }

 CHAPTER VII. BIOGRAPHY OF MÆCENAS—HIS INTIMACY AND INFLUENCE WITH AUGUSTUS—HIS CHARACTER—VALGIUS RUFUS—VARIUS—CORNELIUS GALLUS—BIOGRAPHY OF TIBULLUS—HIS STYLE—CRITICISM OF MURETUS—PROPERTIUS—IMITATED THE ALEXANDRIAN POETS—ÆMILIUS MACER.

 C. CILNIUS MÆCENAS.

In a literary history it is impossible to omit some account of one, who,although his attempts at poetry were very contemptible, exercised, byhis good taste and munificence, a great influence upon literature, andto whom the literary men of Rome were much indebted for the use which hemade of his confidential friendship with Augustus.

C. Cilnius Mæcenas was a member of an equestrian family, which, thoughit derived its descent from the old Etruscan kings,[675] does not appearto have produced any distinguished individuals. His birth-year isunknown, but his birth-day was the ides (13th) of April.[676] We have noinformation respecting the origin of his intimacy with Augustus.Probably his cultivated taste, his extensive acquaintance with Greek andRoman literature, his imperturbable temper, and love of pleasure, firstrecommended him as an agreeable companion to Octavius.

His good sense, activity, and energy in business, and decisivecharacter, qualities in which his irresolute and desultory patron wassignally deficient, enabled him rapidly to improve the acquaintance intointimacy. It is said by Dion Cassius[677] that Augustus obtained fromMæcenas a complete plan for the internal administration of hisnewly-acquired empire, and that in it were displayed sound judgment andpolitical wisdom. It is probable that there is some exaggeration in thisstatement; but that, without being a great man, he was in these respectsa greater man than Augustus, who, therefore, when he required hissupport, could lean upon him with safety. And yet his weaknesses weresuch as to prevent any feeling of jealousy, or appearance ofsuperiority, from endangering his friendship with the emperor. His loveof pleasure, and of the quiet and careless enjoyments of a privatestation, proved, as it turned out, a blessing to his country. His heartwas so full of the delights of refined and intellectual society—ofpalaces and gardens, and wit and poetry, and collections of art andvirtû—that there was no room in it for ambition. His careless andsauntering indolence was openly displayed in his lounging gait, and histoga trailing on the ground. No one could possibly suspect such aloiterer of sufficient energy or application to be a politician and anintriguer. Such being his character, tastes, and habits, he felt notemptation to abuse his influence with Augustus. He did not covethonours and office, because he knew they must bring trouble anddistraction, perhaps peril with them. He exercised his power, which wasundoubtedly great, to promote that luxurious, yet refined elegance, inwhich he himself delighted, and to secure the welfare of his literaryfriends. He had wealth enough to gratify his utmost wishes. Augustus,therefore, had nothing more to confer on him which he valued, exceptpersonal esteem and regard.

The confidence which the Emperor reposed in him is shown by hisemploying him in some affairs of great delicacy: first, in arranging amarriage with Scribonia; and, subsequently, on two occasions, innegotiating with Antony.[678] In B. C. 36, he accompanied Octavius intoSicily; but was sent back in order to undertake the administration ofRome and Italy;[679] and during the campaign at Actium,[680] Mæcenas wasagain vicegerent, in which capacity he crushed the conspiracy of theyounger Lepidus. So unlimited was his power, that he was even intrustedwith the signet of Octavius, and with authority to open, and even toalter, if necessary, all letters which he wrote to the senate during hiscampaign; and when the victorious general, on his return to Rome,consulted with him and Agrippa as to the expediency of re-establishingthe republic, Mæcenas, in opposition to the recommendation of Agrippa,dissuaded him from taking that step. The moral influence also of Mæcenasover Augustus is very striking. So long as it continued, we see nothingof that heartless cruelty, that disregard of the happiness of others,which deformed the early life of the Emperor: if he was heartless, he atleast did that as a matter of taste which a better man would have doneon principle; and if he was still selfish, he sought fame and glory bythe wise counsels of peace rather than by the brilliant triumphs of war:he conciliated friends instead of crushing enemies.

The intimacy between Mæcenas and the Emperor continued for at least tenyears after the battle of Actium: then an estrangement commenced; and inB. C. 16, he was deprived of his official position, and Taurus wasintrusted with the administration of Rome and Italy. Scandalous storieshave been told about his wife Terentia and the Emperor, in order toaccount for the interruption of their intimacy; but no special causesare necessary to account for an event so common. The words ofTacitus[681] are a sufficient solution of the problem:—“Idque etMæcenati acciderat; fato potentiæ, raro sempiternæ, an satias capit, autillos, cum omnia tribuerunt, aut hos, cum jam nihil reliquum est, quodcupiant.” He retained the outward appearance of the imperial friendship,although he had lost the reality. He went to court on the birth-day, butceased to be of the Emperor’s council. His life was passed in thevoluptuous retirement of his palace on the Esquiline, which he had builtfor himself. This hill was not generally considered wholesome: probablythe fact that it had been a burial-ground[682] created a prejudiceagainst it; but the loftiness of the site chosen, as well as of thebuilding itself (_molem vicinam nubibus_,) and the breeze which playedfreely through the lovely garden with which it was surrounded, renderedit salubrious. All the most brilliant society of Rome was found at histable; and many of the best of them received still more substantialmarks of his favour.[683] Virgil, Horace, Propertius, and Varius, wereamongst his friends and constant associates.

Mæcenas was a low-spirited invalid;[684] latterly he could not sleep,and endeavoured in vain to procure repose by listening to softmusic.[685] In his last distressing illness he generally resided at hisTiburtine villa, where the murmuring falls of the Anio invited thatsleep which was denied him elsewhere. He died B. C. 8, and was buried onthe Esquiline. Though married, he left no children, and bequeathed hisproperty to the Emperor, whom he besought in his will not to forget hisbeloved Horace. His taste as a critic was evidently far superior to histalents as a writer. Few fragments of his writings remain; and allancient critics are unanimous in the condemnation of his style.Augustus[686] laughed at his affected jargon of mingled Etruscan andLatin. Quintilian[687] quotes instances of his absurd inversions andtranspositions; and Seneca[688] shows, by an example, its unintelligibleobscurity.[689] He was a sensualist and a voluptuary,[690] and anunfaithful husband; and yet he was devotedly fond of his wife, thebeautiful but ill-tempered Terentia, who had a great influence over him.He would divorce her one day only to restore her to conjugal rights onthe next; and Seneca said that, though he had only one wife, he wasmarried a thousand times. He abhorred cruelty and severity, and wouldnot let it pass unrebuked even in the Emperor; and although he made aboast of effeminacy, he was ready to devote himself heartily to businessin cases of emergency. In fact, he was a fair specimen of the man ofpleasure and society: liberal, kind-hearted, clever, refined, butluxurious, self-indulgent, indolent, and volatile, with good instinctsand impulses, but without principle.

 C. VALGIUS RUFUS.

Amongst the poets of the Augustan age, whose writings were much admiredby their contemporaries, but have not stood the searching test of time,was Valgius Rufus. Of his life no records remain; but he probablybelonged to that class of authors of whom Pliny says, “Quibus nos invehiculo, in balneo, inter cœnam, oblectamus otium temporis.”[691] Theywere light and pleasing, calculated to amuse an idle half-hour, or torelieve the tedium of a journey. They answered the purpose of therailroad literature of our own days. These writers had a correct taste,and a critical discernment of poetical beauty, rather than a genius forpoetical composition. Probably their personal characters had somethingto do with their reputation: they were members of a literary _coterie_;they lived, thought, and felt together; they defended each other againstmalicious criticism; and the bonds of friendship by which they wereunited tempted the greater poets to regard their effusions with kind butundue partiality. Valgius Rufus was a great favourite of Horace,[692]but only a few short, isolated passages are extant of his poems.[693]Quintilian[694] attributes to him a translation of the rhetoricalprecepts of Apollodorus. Seneca[695] mentions him by name: Pliny[696]praises his erudition. The testimony borne to his transcendent merits asan epic poet, in the Panegyric of Messala, need scarcely be trusted,because it is almost certain that this piece is spurious.[697]

 VARIUS.

Of L. Varius Rufus also, who was one of the constant guests at Mæcenas’table, scarcely any thing is known. Horace[698] tells us that he wasunequalled in epic song, when Virgil had as yet only turned hisattention to rustic poetry. The high praise bestowed upon his Thyestesby Quintilian has already been mentioned. To him, together with Virgil,we have seen that Horace owed his introduction to Augustus, and allthree were of the party which accompanied Mæcenas to Brundisium. Thetitles of two of his poems are extant,—I. _De Morte_; II. _Panegyric onAugustus_. Of the former, four fragments are preserved by Macrobius, allof which Virgil has deemed worthy of imitation. Of the latter, twolines, containing a delicate compliment to Augustus, are extant, whichHorace has introduced entire into one of his Epistles.[699] The passageby no means satisfies modern taste, which has been formed by thehexametrical rhythm of Virgil; but Seneca praises his style as free fromthe usual faults of Latin declamatory poetry—mere bombast on the onehand, and excessive minuteness on the other. Niebuhr conjectures thathis Thyestes was too declamatory; and that, like the later Romantragedies of Seneca and others, it was not an imitation of the Atticdrama, but of the degenerate tragedies belonging to the Alexandrianperiod.

 C. CORNELIUS GALLUS (BORN B. C. 66 or 69.)

Gallus was more distinguished as a general than as a poet. Except asingle line from one of his elegies, not a vestige of his poetryremains; for the short pieces attributed to him[700] are undoubtedly notgenuine. He owes his fame, probably, to the kind verdict of hiscontemporaries, whose friendship and amiable affection for each otherappear never to have been endangered by the slightest spark of jealousy.

Born at Frejus, of low parentage, he was a fellow-student in philosophywith Virgil[701] and Arius—a friendship thus commenced which continuedthrough life. The patronage of Asinius Pollio[702] brought him intonotice as a poet at the early age of twenty. He was one of the first toattach himself to the cause of Octavius; and, being appointedcommissioner for allotting the lands to the military colonies, he hadthe opportunity of befriending Virgil and the plundered Mantuans. AtActium he commanded a brigade, burnt Antony’s ships in the harbour ofParætonium, was one of the capturers of Cleopatra, and was rewarded byOctavius with being made first prefect of Egypt. How so valuable aservant lost the Emperor’s favour is uncertain. Ovid hints that hiscrime was one of words, not of deeds:—

 Linguam nimio non tenuisse mero.

He was recalled, his property confiscated, and himself exiled. He hadnot strength of mind to bear his fall, and he committed suicide in theforty-first or forty-third year of his age.[703]

No judgment respecting his merits can be formed from the contradictorycriticism of the ancients. Ovid awards to him the palm among the elegiacpoets,[704] and Virgil is said to have sung his praises in his fourthGeorgic, but afterwards to have omitted the passage and substituted forit the story of Aristæus; whilst Quintilian[705] applies the epithet_durior_ to his versification. Perhaps the latter attached too muchimportance to the grace and sweetness of diction, but neglected thebeauty of the sentiments; whilst the former might have been too partialin his sympathy with a fellow exile. He was the author of four books ofelegies, in which, under the feigned name of Lycoris, he sings his lovefor his mistress Cytheris. He also translated the Greek poems ofEuphorion.

 ALBIUS TIBULLUS.

Tibullus was born of an equestrian family, probably in B. C. 54. He wasa contemporary of Virgil and Horace;[706] and like them, during thetroubles of the civil wars, suffered the confiscation of his paternalestate, which was situated at Pedum, near Tibur. After the conclusion ofthe struggle a portion was restored to him—small, indeed, but sufficientto satisfy his moderate wants and contented disposition.

Disinclined, as well by his love of quiet, to the labours and perils ofa military life, as he was by the tenderness and softness of hischaracter to the horrors of war, circumstances, nevertheless, forced himinvoluntarily to undertake a campaign. Messala was his patron, to whomhe was evidently under great obligations.[707] When, therefore, he wassent by Octavia to quell an insurrection in Aquitania, Tibullusaccompanied him. This campaign and the successes of Messala furnishedthe poet with subjects for his muse.[708] Tibullus also fully intendedto continue his services to Messala in the east, during the followingyear; but illness compelled him to stop at Corcyra, whence he returnedto Rome.[709]

The mistresses whose beauty, inconstancy, and cruelty Tibulluscelebrates in his elegies were, unlike those of Horace, real persons.Delia’s real name is said to have been Plautia or Plania;[710] whoNemesis was is not known. These are the only two mentioned by himself oralluded to by Ovid;[711] but Horace addresses an ode to him on hispassion for a mistress whom he names Glycera. Probably he is speaking ofone of Tibullus’ mistresses under a feigned name, in accordance with hishabitual practice, for the names introduced by him in his poems,generally speaking, bear no appearance of reality. They are, with veryfew exceptions, suggested by his study of Greek lyric poets. Chloris,Lycoris, Neobule, Lydia, Thaliarchus, Xanthias, Pholoe, are all Greekcharacters, translated to Roman scenes, and made to play an artificialpart in Roman life. Cinara[712] was, perhaps, a real person, as Bassus,the Novii Mævius, and Numida, undoubtedly are. Sometimes, when hisobject is satire, he speaks of the subject of his irony under a namesomewhat resembling the real one; as, for example, when he ridiculesMæcenas under the name of Malthinus,[713] Salvidianus Rufus under thatof Nasidianus,[714] and lampoons Gratidia the sorceress as Canidia. Butin the poetry of Tibullus, as in that of Catullus and Propertius, thesame names are found in each of a series of poems. Apuleius[715] assertsthat the real name of the Lesbia of Catullus was Clodia; that of theCynthia of Propertius, Hostia, and that she was a native of Tivoli.

The style and tone of thought of Tibullus are, like his character,deficient in vigour and manliness, but sweet, smooth, polished, tender,and never disfigured by bad taste. He does not deserve the censure ofNiebuhr, who stigmatizes him as a “disagreeable poet, because of hisdoleful and weeping melancholy and sentimentality, resulting frommisunderstanding the ancient elegies of Mimnermus.”[716]

After his return from Corcyra, Tibullus passed the remainder of hisshort life in the peaceful retirement of his paternal estate. He diedyoung, shortly after Virgil, if we may trust to an epigram, ascribed toDomitius Marsus, contained in the Latin Anthologia:[717]—

 Te quoque Virgilio comitem non æqua, Tibulle, Mors juvenem campos misit in Elysios, Ne foret, aut elegis molles qui fleret amores, Aut caneret forti regia bella pede.

The poems commonly ascribed to Tibullus consist of four books, but onlytwo are genuine, and of these, the second was published posthumously.Two lines in the third book, which fix the date of the poet’s birth inthe consulship of Hirtius and Pansa,[718] have generally been consideredas spurious, because such a date is inconsistent with the rest of thechronology; but Voss rejected the whole of that book; and there is noquestion but that the spirit and character of the elegies, as well asthe harmony of the metre, are very inferior to those of the precedingpoems. The same inferiority marks the fourth also, with the exception ofthe smaller poems, which bear the names of Sulpicia and Corinthus.These, as Niebuhr correctly observes, display greater energy andboldness than Tibullus possessed, and are the productions of some poetmuch superior to him.

That elegant scholar and judicious critic, Muretus,[719] has wellattributed to him, as his chief characteristics, simplicity, and naturaland unaffected genius:—“Illum (_i. e._ Tibullum) judices _simplicius_scripsisse quæ cogitaret; hunc (_i. e._ Propertium) diligentiuscogitasse quæ scriberet. In illo _plus naturæ_, in hoc plus curæ atqueindustriæ perspicias.”

 SEXTUS AURELIUS PROPERTIUS.

Very little is known respecting the life and personal history ofPropertius beyond the few facts which may be gleaned from his poems. Hewas a native of the border country of Umbria, and was probably born notearlier than A. U. C. 703,[720] or later than 700.[721] This period willsufficiently agree with the statement of Ovid respecting their relativeages.[722] His family had not produced any distinguished member, butpossessed a competent estate. Like Virgil and Tibullus, he was asufferer by the consequences of war; for the establishment of a militarycolony reduced him from comfort to straitened circumstances.[723]

Like most young Romans of genius and education, he was intended for thebar;[724] but poetry had greater charms for him than severe studies, andhe became nothing more than a literary man. He inhabited a house in thenow fashionable quarter of the Esquiline, and was on intimate terms withGallus, Ovid, Bassus, and Virgil. Cynthia, his amour with whom inspiredso large a portion of his elegies, was not only a beautiful but anaccomplished woman. She was his first love; and it appears to have beensome time before she yielded to his solicitations,[725] nor was she eventhen always faithful to him.[726] She could write verses and play uponthe lyre,[727] and was a graceful dancer.[728] She owed to him, saysMartial, her immortality; whilst he owed to his love for her theinspiration which immortalized himself:—

 Cynthia, facundi carmen juvenile Properti, Accepit famam nec minus illa dedit.

The date of the poet’s death is unknown, but the probability is that hedied young.

Although Propertius was a contemporary and friend of the Augustan poets,he may be considered as belonging to a somewhat different school ofpoetry. His taste, like theirs, was educated by a study of Greekliterature; but the Greek poets whose works he took for his modelbelonged to a later age. Horace, Virgil and Tibullus imitated and triedto rival the Greek classical poets of the noblest ages: they transferredinto their native tongue the ideas of Homer, Pindar, and the old lyricpoets. Their taste was formed after the purest and most perfect models.Propertius, on the other hand, was content with a lower flight. Heattempted nothing more than to imitate the graceful but feeble strainsof the Alexandrian poets, and to become a second Callimachus orPhiletas.[729] Roman perseverance in the pursuit of learning, and thespirit of investigation in the wide field of Greek literature, hadraised up this new standard of taste, which was by no means animprovement upon that which had been hitherto established.

The imitations of Propertius are too studied and apparent to permit himto lay claim to great natural genius. Nature alone could give thetouching tenderness of Tibullus or the facility of Ovid—in both ofwhich, notwithstanding his grace and elegance, he is deficient. Theabsence of original fancy is concealed by minute attention to theoutward form of the poetry which he admired. His pentameters are ofteninharmonious, because they adopt so continually the Greek rules ofconstruction; awkward Greek idioms, and a studious display of hislearning, which was undoubtedly great, destroy that greatest charm ofstyle, perspicuity.

According to Quintilian,[730] the critics of his day somewhat overratedhis merits, for they could scarcely decide the question of superioritybetween him and Tibullus. This, however, is to be expected in an age ofaffected rhetoric and grammatical pedantry, when nothing was consideredbeautiful in poetry except that which was in accordance with thearbitrary rules of cold criticism. They appreciated his correctness, anddid not miss the warm heart of his rival. His poetry is not so pollutedwith indelicacy as that of Ovid, but still it is often sensual andlicentious.

It is worthy of remark that the fourth elegy of the third book, entitled“Arethusa to Lycotas,” deprives Ovid of the credit of being the inventorof the elegiac epistle.

 ÆMILIUS MACER.

The poem of Æmilius Macer is only known through two verses in theTristia of Ovid,[731] which state that it treated of birds, serpents,and medicinal herbs:

 Sæpe suas volucres legit mihi grandior ævo Quæque necet serpens; quæ juvet herba Macer.

He was born at Verona, and died in Asia, A. D. 16; and the passagealready quoted proves that he was older than Ovid.

His poem was a paraphrase or imitation of the Theriaca of Nicander—aphysician-poet, who flourished in Ætolia during the reign of PtolemyEpiphanes. Quintilian couples his name with that of Lucretius; andawards him the praise of elegance, but adds that his style is deficientin dignity.

 CHAPTER VIII.BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF OVID—HIS RHETORICAL POWERS—ANECDOTE RELATED BY SENECA—HIS POETICAL GENIUS—SELF-INDULGENT LIFE—POPULARITY—BANISHMENT—PLACE OF HIS EXILE—EPISTLES AND OTHERWORKS—GRATIUS FALISCUS—PEDO ALBINOVANUS—AULUS SABINUS—MARCUS MANILIUS.

 OVIDIUS NASO (BORN B. C. 43.)

Ovid, as he himself states,[732] was born at Sulmo (Sulmone,) a town ofthe Peligni (Abruzzi,) ninety miles distant from Rome. The year of hisbirth was that in which the consuls Hirtius and Pansa fell in the fieldof Mutina (Modena.) His family was equestrian, and had been so for somegenerations. His father lived to the age of ninety; and, as his motherwas then alive, it is probable that she also attained an advanced age.He had a brother exactly twelve months older than himself. Their commonbirthday was the first of the Quinquatria, or festival of Minerva (March20th.)

Whilst still of tender age the two boys were sent to Rome for education,and placed under the care of eminent instructors. The elder studiedeloquence, and was brought up to the bar: but he died at the early ageof twenty. Ovid himself also, for a time, studied rhetoric underArellius Fuscus and Porcius Latro, and the results of his study arevisible in his poems;[733] for example, in the speeches of Ajax andUlysses.[734]

Seneca has left an interesting account of his rhetorical powers.[735] “Iremember,” he says, “hearing Naso declaim, in the presence of ArelliusFuscus, of whom he was a pupil; for he was an admirer of Latro, althoughhis style was different from his own. The style of Ovid could at thattime be termed nothing else but poetry in prose: still he was sodiligent as to transfer many of his sentiments into his verses. Latrohad said—

 Mittamus arma in hostes, et petamus.

Naso wrote—

 Arma viri fortis medios mittantur in hostes Inde jubete peti.

He borrowed another idea from one of Latro’s Suasorian orations:—

 Non vides uti immota fax torpeat et exagitata reddat ignes?

Ovid’s paraphrase of this illustration is—

 Vidi ego jactatas mota face crescere flammas, Et rursus, nullo concutiente, mori.

When he was a student he was thought to declaim well.”

On the affecting theme of a husband and wife, who had mutually sworn notto survive each other, Seneca asserts that he surpassed his master inwit and talent, and was only inferior in the arrangement of his topics.He then quotes a long passage, in which Ovid analyzes the principles oflove, with a skill and ingenuity well worthy of one who, as a poet, madelove the subject of his song, and with a purity of sentiment which, itwere to be wished, had dignified the sweetness of his verses. Ovidpreferred _suasoriæ_ and ethical themes to _controversiæ_;[736] for allargument was irksome to him. In oratory he was very careful in the useof his words: in his poetry he was aware of his faults, but loved themtoo well to correct them. He then adds the following amusing andcharacteristic anecdote:—Being once asked by his friends to erase threelines, he consented on condition that he himself should be at liberty tomake an exception in favour of three. He accordingly wrote down threewhich he wished to preserve; his friends those which they wished toerase. The papers were examined, and both were found to contain the sameverses. Pedo Albinovanus used to say that one of these was—

 Semibovemque virum semivirumque bovem.

The other—

 Egelidum Borean, egelidumque Notum.

Hence it is apparent that judgment was not wanting, but the inclinationto correct. He defended himself by saying that an occasional mole is animprover of beauty. The former of these miserable conceits is not now tobe found in his poems. The latter occurs in the _Amores_, but it isusually read—

 Et gelidum Borean, egelidumque Notum;

or—

 Et gelidum Borean, præcipitemque Notum.[737]

The father of Ovid, who took a utilitarian view of life, is said to havediscouraged the cultivation of his poetical talents, and to havestigmatized the service of the Muses as barren and unprofitable. EvenHomer himself, he was wont to say, left no property behind him. Ovidendeavoured to comply with his father’s wishes; he deserted Helicon, andtried to write plain prose. It was all in vain; his words spontaneouslyflowed into numbers, and whatever he tried to say was poetry. Hisnatural genius and facility displayed itself when he was quite a boy;for he had not yet put on the _toga virilis_. When he assumed this badgeof mature age, it was bordered with a broad purple stripe, which markedthe patrician order; but being unambitious and indolent, he never tookhis seat in the senate, although he filled several magisterial andjudicial offices.

His rank, fortune, and talents enabled him to cultivate the society ofmen of congenial tastes. He became acquainted with the best poets of hisday. Macer and Propertius would recite their compositions to him.Ponticus and Bassus were guests at his table. He had heard the lyrics ofHorace read by himself. Virgil he had only seen; and the untimely deathof Tibullus prevented him from making the acquaintance of that poet. Hewas extremely young when his juvenile poems became very popular, and hewrote far more than he published; for he burnt whatever displeased him;and, when sentenced to exile, in disgust he committed the Metamorphosesto the flames.

He himself confesses his natural susceptibility and amorous temperament;but claims the credit of never having given occasion to any scandal. Hewas three times married. His first wife was unsuitable, and provedunworthy of him, and accordingly he divorced her. His second he divorcedalso, although no imputation rested on her virtue. From his third, whom,notwithstanding his fickleness and infidelity, he sincerely loved, hewas only separated by exile. She was one of the Fabian family, and borehim one daughter.

Epicurean in his tastes, and a skeptic, if not a disbeliever in a futurestate, he lived a life of continual self-indulgence and intrigue. He wasa universal admirer and as universal a favourite among the female sex inthe voluptuous capital; for the tone of female morals was in that agelow and depraved, and the women encouraged the licentiousness of themen. Although his favourite mistress, whom he celebrated under thefictitious name of Corinna, is unknown, and all the conjecturesconcerning her identity are groundless, there is no doubt that she was alady of rank and fortune.

Ovid was popular as a poet, successful in society, and possessed all theenjoyments which wealth can bestow. He had a villa and estate in hisnative Sulmo, a house on the Capitoline hill, and suburban gardens,celebrated for their beauty. At some period of his life he travelledwith Macer into Asia and Sicily; and, in his exile, recalls to mind withsorrowful pleasure the magnificent cities of the former, and the sublimescenery and classic haunts of the latter.[738] This sunny life at lengthcame to an end. The last ray of happiness, which he speaks of as beamingon him, was the intelligence that his beloved daughter Perilla, who wastwice married, made him a grandfather a second time. When his hairbecame tinged with white, and he had reached his fiftieth year, heincurred, by some fault or indiscretion, the anger of Augustus, and wasbanished to Tomi (Tomoswar or Baba.)

The cause of his banishment is involved in obscurity. It was not unknownat Rome; but in his exile he refrains from alluding to it, except indark allusions, out of fear of giving additional offence to theemperor.[739] He speaks of it as an indiscretion (_error_,) not a crime(_scelus_, _facinus_;[740]) as something which he had accidentallywitnessed,[741] perhaps had indiscreetly told—a circumstance whichdeeply and personally affected Augustus, and inflicted a wound which hewas unwilling to tear open afresh. He hints also that he fell a victimto the treachery of friends and domestics,[742] who enriched themselvesby his ruin.

There have been many conjectures[743] on this difficult point. Some haveimagined an intrigue with the elder Julia, the profligate daughter ofAugustus; but this is scarcely consistent with the manner in which Ovidhimself speaks of his fault; and besides this, Julia was banished toPandataria eight years before. The banishment of the younger Julia toTrimerus, about the same time with that of Ovid, would make it far moreprobable that his fall was connected with that of this equallyprofligate princess. Tiraboschi supposed that he had surprised one ofthe royal family in some disgraceful act; and some have even imaginedthat he might have witnessed such conduct on the part of the Emperorhimself. Dryden believed that he accidentally saw Livia in the bath; andthe author of the article in the Biographie Universelle, as well asSchoell,[744] surmise that he was in some way implicated in the fortunesof Agrippa Posthumus, and thus incurred the hatred of Livia andTiberius.

Whatever the cause may have been, the punishment was a cruel one, exceptfor a crime of the deepest dye, and would never have been inflicted bythe gentle Augustus so long as he was under the salutary influence ofMæcenas and his party. But in his old age he submitted to the banefulrule of the dark Tiberius and the implacable Livia. Any pretext,therefore, sufficed to remove one, who, from some cause or other, hadexcited their enmity. The alleged reason was the immorality of hiswritings; but they are not more immoral than those of Horace; and,besides, the worst of them had been published ten years before. Nor wasthe morality of the Emperor himself of such a character as to lead himto punish so severely a licentious poet in a licentious age. Theexclusion of his works from the Palatine[745] library was a merited andmore appropriate visitation. Nevertheless, this was made the pretext fora banishment, the misery of which was solaced by the empty mockery ofthe reservation of his civil rights.

Tomi was on the very frontiers of the Roman empire, inhabited by theGetæ, who were rude and uncivilized. The country itself, a barren andtreeless waste, cold, damp, and marshy, producing naturally scarcelyanything but wormwood, and yielding scanty crops to the unskilled toilof ignorant cultivators, was rendered still more desolate by frequentincursions of the neighbouring savage tribes, who used poisoned arrows,and offered up as sacrifices their prisoners of war.[746] Ovid, who,with all his faults, was affectionate and tender-hearted, was torn fromall the voluptuous blandishments of the capital, from the sympathies ofcongenial spirits, who could appreciate his talents, and from the armsof his weeping wife,[747] amidst the voice of wailing and of prayer,which filled every corner of his desolate dwelling. The blow fellsuddenly upon him like a thunder-clap,[748] and so stupefied him that hecould make no preparations for his voyage. The season of his departurewas the depth of winter, and he was exposed to some peril by a tempestin the Ionian Gulf. The climate of his new abode was as inclement asthat of Scythia. Not only the Danube, but even the sea near its mouth,was for some extent covered with ice: even the wine froze into blocks,and was broken in pieces before it could be used. He lived in exile onlyten years; constant anxiety preyed upon his bodily health; he sufferedlanguor, but no pain; he loathed all food; the little that he ate wouldnot digest; sleep failed him; his body became pale and emaciated, and sohe died. The Tomitæ showed their respect by erecting a tomb to hismemory.

In the midst of such a contrast between the present and the past, nowonder that his complainings appear almost pitiful and unmanly, and hisurgent petitions to Augustus couched in too fulsome a strain ofadulation. No wonder that he painted in the most glowing colours thestory of his woes and privations. Yet he was destitute neither ofpatience nor fortitude: he relied on the independence and immortality ofgenius; and although the enervating effect of a luxurious and easy lifeand a delicate constitution, rendered him a prey to grief, and hegradually pined away, still he had strength of mind to relieve hissorrows by devotion to the Muse, and he suffered with tranquillity andresignation. Poetry was his resource during his stormy voyage. Poetrygained him the affection and esteem of his new fellow-citizens,notwithstanding their barbarism,[749] and procured him the honour of atomb.

All the extant poems of Ovid, with the exception of the Metamorphoses,are elegiac. It was the metre then most in vogue. All the minor poets,his contemporaries, wrote in it. One of his earliest works is the“Amores,” a collection of elegies, most of which are addressed to hisfavourite mistress Corinna. Some of them, however, were composedsubsequently to his Epistles and Art of Love.[750] An epigram, which isprefixed, states that there were originally five books, but that theauthor subsequently reduced them to the present number, three.Licentiousness disfigures these annals of his amours; but they teem withthe freshness and buoyancy of youth, and sparkle with grace andingenuity.

The twenty-one _Epistolæ Heroidum_, i. e. Epistles to and from Women ofthe Heroic Age, are a series of love-letters: their characteristicfeature is passion; the ardour of which is sometimes interfered with bytoo laboured conceits and excessive refinement. They are, in fact, themost polished efforts of one whose natural indolence often disinclinedhim from expending that time and pains on the work of amending andcorrecting which distinguished Virgil. Their great merit consists in theremarkable neatness with which the sentiments are expressed, and thesweetness of the versification; their great defect is want of variety.The subject necessarily limited the topics. The range of them isconfined to laments for the absence of the beloved object, the pangs ofjealousy, apprehensions of inconstancy, expressions of warm affection,and descriptions of the joys and sorrows of love.

With the exception of the Metamorphoses, the Epistles have been greaterfavourites than any of the works of Ovid. Some were translated byDrayton and Lord Hervey. The beautiful translation, by Pope, of theepistle from Sappho to Phaon, is familiar to all; and his touchingpicture of the struggle between passion and principle, in the letter ofEloisa to Abelard, owes a portion of its inspiration to the Epistles ofOvid.

Love in the days of Ovid had nothing in it chivalrous or pure—it wascarnal, sensual. The age in which he lived was morally polluted, and hewas neither better nor worse than his contemporaries. Great and noble aswas the character of the Roman matron, the charms of an accomplishedfemale education were almost as rare as at Athens. She had sterlingworth; but she had not often the power to fascinate those numbers whoconsidered woman the minister to the pleasures of man. She was wise,self-sacrificing, patriotic, courageous—a devoted mother, anaffectionate wife—and a man of heroic mould valued as she deserved sucha partner of his fortunes. But those who sought merely the allurementsof passion looked only for meretricious pleasure and sensual enjoyment.Hence grossness is the characteristic of Ovid’s Art of Love. Theinstructions contained in the first two books, which are addressed tomen, are fit only for the seducer. The blandishments in the third aresuited only to the abandoned of the other sex.

The Art of Love was followed by the Remedies of Love, in one book: “Lethim,” he says, “who taught you to love, teach you also the cure; onehand shall inflict the wound and minister the balm. The earth producesnoxious and healthful herbs; the rose is often nearest neighbour to thenettle.”[751]

His Metamorphoses were just finished, and not yet corrected,[752] whenhis fall took place. When in his despair he burnt it, fortunately forthe world some copies transpired. Afterwards he prayed that they mightbe preserved to remind the readers of the unhappy author. TheMetamorphoses consist of fifteen books, and contain a series ofmythological narratives from the earliest times to the translation ofthe soul of Julius Cæsar from earth to heaven, and his metamorphosisinto a star. This poem is Ovid’s noblest effort: it approaches as nearto the epic form as is possible with so many naturally unconnectedepisodes. In many parts, especially his descriptions, we do not merelyadmire his natural facility in making verses, but picturesquetruthfulness and force—the richest fancy combined with grandeur anddignity. Amongst the most beautiful portions may be enumerated the storyof Phaeton, including the splendid description of the Palace of theSun;[753] the golden age;[754] the story of Pyramus and Thisbe;[755] thecottage home and the rustic habits of Baucis and Philemon,[756]Narcissus at the fountain;[757] the powerfully sketched picture of theCave of Sleep,[758] Dædalus and Icarus,[759] Cephalus and Procris,[760]and the soliloquy of Medea.[761] In this poem, especially, may be tracedthat study and learning by which the Roman poets made all the treasuresof Greek literature their own. In fact, a more extensive knowledge ofGreek mythology may be derived from it than from the Greeks themselves,because the books which were the sources of his information areunfortunately no longer extant.

The “Fasti” is an antiquarian poem on the Roman calendar. Originally itwas intended to have formed twelve books, one for each month of theyear, but only the first six were completed:[762]——

 Sex ego Fastorum scripsi totidemque libellos Cumque suo finem mense volumen habet.

It is a beautiful specimen of simple narrative in verse, and displaysmore than any of his works, his power of telling a story, without theslightest effort, in poetry as well as prose. As a profound study ofGreek mythology and poetry had furnished the materials for hisMetamorphoses and other poems, so in this he drew principally from thelegends which had been preserved by the old poets and annalists of hisown country.

The five books of the Tristia and the four books of the Epistles fromPontus were the outpourings of his sorrowful heart during the gloomyevening of his days. Without the brilliancy, the wit, and the genius,which beamed forth from his joyous spirit in the time of his prosperity,without the graceful and inspired querulousness of the ancient models,they are, nevertheless, conceived in the spirit of the Greek elegy—theyutter the voice of complaining, and deserve the Horatian epithet of_miserabiles_.[763] It was natural to him to give utterance to his hopeand despair in song: he had sported like a gay insect in the sunshine ofprosperity. He was too fragile, delicate, and effeminate to bear thestorm of adversity—his butterfly spirit was broken; but, with all hisfaults, that broken heart was capable of the tenderest emotions, and hisletter to his daughter Perilla[764] is full of purity and sweetness. Thecarelessness of one who would not take the trouble to correct, and whowas conscious of his dangerous facility, is compensated for by thecommiseration which his natural complaints excite, and for the powerfuldescriptions which occasionally enliven the monotony inseparable fromgrief.

His minor poems consist of an elegiac poem, “Nux,” in which a nut-treebewails its hard fate and the ill treatment which it receives; a longand bitter satire, entitled Ibis, on some enemy, or, perhaps, somefaithless friend; a poem on Cosmetics (Medicamina facici;[765]) anotheron Fishing (Halieutica;[766]) and an address of condolence to LiviaAugusta. None, however, of these last three are universally admitted tobe genuine. Other works which were the offspring of his prolific geniushave perished. During his exile he acquired sufficient knowledge of theGetan language to write some poems in it; and these were as popular withthe barbarians as his Latin works were at Rome. Lastly, he was theauthor of the Medea; a tragedy of which Quintilian says, that it showsof what grand works he was capable, if he had been willing to curbinstead of giving reins to the luxuriance of his genius.[767] Two linesonly are extant; but we can judge of the conception which he formed ofthe character of Medea from the epistle in the “Heroides,” and hereminently tragic soliloquy in the Metamorphoses.

Ovid was a voluptuary, but not a heartless one. The age in which helived was as immoral as himself, and far more gross; he was, therefore,neither a corrupter nor a seducer. His poetry was popular, not onlybecause of its beauty, but because it was in exact accordance with thespirit of the times. His wit was sometimes contrary to good taste, butit was not forced and unnatural. He was betrayed into the appearance,not the reality of affectation, by a luxuriance which required pruning,for which he had neither patience nor inclination. He stored himselfwith the learning of the ancients, and caught their inspiration; buttheir severe taste was to him a trammel to which he was too self-willedand self-complacent to submit. The prevalent taste for elegiac poetrypointed out the style which was suited to his caliber; for one cannothelp feeling that his genius was incapable of mastering the giganticproportions of a true epic, and, notwithstanding the favourablecriticism of Quintilian, of soaring to the sublimity of tragedy.

 GRATIUS FALISCUS.

The Cynegetica of Gratius, commonly, though without any reason, surnamedFaliscus, may claim a place beside the Halieutica of Ovid, on account ofits subject, but not on the score of genius, poetry, or language.Nothing is known respecting this author, except that Ovid speaks of himas a contemporary.[768] The poem is heroic, and consists of 536 lines:its style is hard and prosaic; it describes the weapons and arts of thechase, horses and hounds; but the science is rather Greek than Italian,and the information contained in it is principally derived fromXenophon.[769]

 PEDO ALBINOVANUS.

Another poet of the Ovidian age was his trusty friend, C. PedoAlbinovanus. He was of equestrian rank,[770] and, unlike most of hiscontemporaries, an epic poet.[771] Ovid in his Epistles fromPontus,[772] which are addressed to him, applies to him the epithet,“Sidereus,” either because he had written an astronomical poem, orbecause his sublime language soared into the starry heavens. Martialspeaks of him as having written epigrams which extend to the length oftwo pages.[773] A fragment of an epic poem, describing the voyage ofGermanicus related by Tacitus, is preserved by Seneca.[774] Threeelegies are usually ascribed to him; but their style is that of moremodern times, and the authority for their genuineness very suspicious.

 A. SABINUS.

Another contemporary of Ovid was A. Sabinus; and all that is knownrespecting him is derived from two passages in the works of the formerpoet.[775] In one of these,[776] he tells us that Sabinus wrote answersto six of the epistles of the Heroides. None of these, however, areextant. The three which profess to be written by him, entitled Ulyssesto Penelope, Demophoon to Phyllis, and Paris to Œnone, are the work ofAngelus Sabinus,[777] a philologer and poet of the fifteenth century.

Two other works are attributed to him by Ovid in a passage in which hespeaks of his death.[778] One of these, entitled Trœzen, was probably anepic poem, of which Theseus was the hero;[779] the other, _Dierum Opus_,was a continuation of Ovid’s Fasti. Other elegiac poets flourished atthis period, such as Proculus and Montanus; but their poetical talentswere of too commonplace a character to deserve special mention. Theyconfer no obligation on literature, and contribute nothing towards theillustration of the literary character of their times.

 M. MANILIUS.

The astronomical and astrological poem of Manilius furnishes a series ofthose historical problems which have never yet been satisfactorilysolved. The author has been in turn confounded with every one whom Romanrecords mention as bearing that name, and in all cases with equallylittle reason. No one knows when he flourished, where he lived, and ofwhat place he was a native. Bentley determined that he was an Asiatic;Huet that he was a Carthaginian. Internal evidence renders it mostprobable that he lived in the reign of Tiberius;[780] and yet neither henor his poem are ever mentioned by any ancient author. His work wasnever discovered until the beginning of the fifteenth century; probablyit had never been published, but only a few copies had been made, someof which have been marvellously preserved.

The philosophical principles of the poem are those of a StoicalPantheism. As one principle of life pervades the whole universe, thereis a close connexion between things celestial and things terrestrial. Inconsequence of this relation, the astrologer can determine the course ofthe latter by observation of the heavenly bodies. Together with all theassumptions and absurdities of astrology are mingled extensive knowledgeof the state of astronomical science in his day: gleams of truth shootlike meteors athwart the darkness. The subject which he has chosen is asunpromising for poetical effect and embellishment as that of Lucretius;but he does not handle it so successfully: he has neither the boldnessof thought, the dignity of language, nor the imaginative grandeur whichmarked the old poet philosopher. The poem is incomplete; and probablyowes some of its roughness and obscurity to its never having beencorrected for publication.

 CHAPTER IX.PROSE WRITERS—INFLUENCE OF CICERO UPON THE LANGUAGE—HIS CONVERSE WITH HIS FRIENDS—HIS EARLY LIFE—PLEADS HIS FIRST CAUSE—IS QUÆSTOR, ÆDILE,PRÆTOR AND CONSUL—HIS EXILE, RETURN, AND PROVINCIAL ADMINISTRATION—HIS VACILLATING CONDUCT—HE DELIVERS HIS PHILIPPICS—IS PROSCRIBED AND ASSASSINATED—HIS CHARACTER.

As oratory gave to Latin prose-writing its elegance and dignity, Cicerois not only the representative of the flourishing period of thelanguage, but also the instrumental cause of its arriving at perfection.Circumstances may have been favourable to his influence. The nationalmind may have been in that stage of progress which only required amaster-genius to develop it; but still it was he who gave a fixedcharacter to the language, who showed his countrymen what eloquenceespecially was in its combination of the precepts of art and theprinciples of natural beauty; what the vigour of Latin was, and of whatelegance and polish it was capable.

His age was not an age of poetry; but he paved the way for poetry byinvesting the language with those graces which are indispensable to itsperfection. He freed it from all coarseness and harshness, andaccustomed the educated classes to use language, even in their every-dayconversation, which never called up gross ideas, but was fit for pureand noble sentiments. Before his time, Latin was plain-spoken, andtherefore vigorous; but the penalty which was paid for this was, that itwas sometimes gross and even indecent. The conversational language ofthe upper classes became in the days of Cicero in the highest degreerefined: it admitted scarcely an offensive expression. The truth of thisassertion is evident from those of his writings which are of thefamiliar character—from his graphic Dialogues, in which he describes thecircumstances as naturally as if they really occurred; from his lettersto Atticus, in which he lays open the secret thoughts of his heart tohis most intimate friend, his second self. Cicero purified the languagemorally as well as æsthetically. It was the licentious wantonness of thepoets which degraded the pleasures of the imagination by pandering tothe passions at first in language delicately veiled, and then by openand disgusting sensuality.

It is difficult for us, perhaps, to whom religion comes under the aspectof revelation separate from philosophy, and who consider thephilosophical investigation of moral subjects as different from thereligious view of morals, to form an adequate conception of the pure andalmost holy nature of the conversations of Cicero and his distinguishedcontemporaries. To them philosophy was the contemplation of the natureand attributes of the Supreme Being. The metaphysical analysis of theinternal nature of man was the study of immortality and the evidence foranother life. Cato, for example, read the Phædo of Plato in his lastmoments in the same serious spirit in which the Christian would read thewords of inspiration. The study of ethics was that of the sanctions withwhich God has supported duty and enlightened the conscience. They werethe highest subjects with which the mind of man could be conversant. Formen to meet together, as was the habitual practice of Cicero and hisfriends, and pass their leisure hours in such discussions, was the sameas if Christians were to make the great truths of the gospel thesubjects of social converse.

Again, if we examine the character of their lighter conversations, whenthey turned from philosophy to literature,—it was not mere gossip on thepopular literature of the day—it was not even confined to works writtenin their native tongue—it embraced the whole field of the literature ofa foreign nation. They talked of poets, orators, philosophers, andhistorians, who were ancients to them as they are to us. They did notthen think the subject of a foreign and ancient literature dull orpedantic. They did not consider it necessary that conversation should betrifling or frivolous in order to be entertaining.

Nor was the influence which Cicero exercised on the literature of hisday merely extensive, but it was permanent. The great men of whom he wasthe leader and guide caught his spirit. His influence survived untilexternal political causes destroyed eloquence, and its place wassupplied by a cold and formal rhetoric: it was felt almost until thelanguage was corrupted by the admixture of barbarisms. It may bediscerned in the soldier-like plainness of Cæsar, in the Herodoteannarrative of Livy, and its sweetness without its diffusenessoccasionally adorns the reflective pages of Tacitus.

It is difficult in a limited space to do justice to Cicero, even as aliterary man; such was his versatility of genius, such his indefatigableindustry, so vast the range of subjects which he touched and adorned. Ofcourse, therefore, it is impossible to do more than rapidly glance atthe leading events of his political career, or at his public character,since his history is, in fact, a history of his stirring and criticaltimes.

 M. TULLIUS CICERO (BORN B. C. 106.)

On the banks of the noiseless and gently-flowing[781] Liris(Garigliano,) near Arpinum, the birthplace of Marius,[782] lived a Romanknight named M. Tullius Cicero. A competent hereditary estate enabledhim to devote his time to literary pursuits. He had two sons: the elder,who bore his father’s name, was born January 3rd, B. C. 106. The other,Quintus, was about four years younger. As both, and Marcus especially,displayed quick talents and a lively disposition, and gave promise ofinheriting their father’s taste for learning, he migrated to Rome whenMarcus was about fourteen years of age. The boys were educated withtheir cousins, the young Aculei.[783] Q. Ælius[784] taught them grammar;learned Greeks instructed them in philosophy; and the poet Archiasexercised them in the technical rules of verse, although he did notsucceed in giving them the inspiration of poetry. Quintus prided himselfon his poetic skill; and a poem by him, on the twelve zodiacal signs, isstill extant.[785] Cicero also had in his boyhood some poetical taste;and there is great elegance in the translations from the Greek which wemeet with in his works. He wrote a poem in hexameters, entitled “PontiusGlaucus,” as a sort of juvenile exercise, which was extant in the timeof Plutarch; and also when he was a young man in praise of Marius.

After assuming the toga virilis at sixteen years of age, M. T. Ciceroattended the forum diligently; and, by carefully exercising himself incomposition, made the eloquence of the celebrated orators whom he heardhis own, whilst from the lectures and advice of Q. Mucius Scævola, heacquired the principles of Roman jurisprudence.

He served but little in the armies of his country: his onlycampaign[786] was made under the father of Pompey the Great in thesocial war. During the remainder of this period, Molo, the Rhodianrhetorician, instructed him in oratory, whilst Diodotus the Stoic,Phædrus the Epicurean, and Philo, who had presided over the New Academyat Athens, were his masters in philosophy. The various schools, theprinciples of which he thus imbibed, led to the eclecticism whichcharacterizes his philosophical creed. The bloody era of the Marian andSullan war was passed by him in study: he did not interfere in politics,and the fruits of his retirement are extant in the treatise _deInventione Rhetorica_.

At twenty-five, he pleaded his first cause,[787] and in the followingyear defended S. Roscius of Ameria; but his constitution was not strongenough to bear great exertion. His friends, therefore, induced him totravel, and he determined to pass some time at Athens.[788] There wasalso another reason for this recommendation. His courageous defence ofRoscius had provoked the enmity of Chrysogonus, a creature of Sulla, andit was therefore dangerous for him to remain at Rome. He was accompaniedby his brother Quintus,[789] and found Pomponius Atticus residing there,who afterwards became his most intimate friend. From Athens he travelledto Asia and Rhodes, employing his time in the cultivation of oratory,his principal study at Athens having been philosophy. From Asia hereturned to Rome[790] with improved health and an invigoratedconstitution; where he found a powerful rival, as an orator, inHortensius, who was then at the zenith of his popularity.

As soon as he was old enough,[791] he was elected quæstor, and theprovince of Sicily was allotted to him. In the exercise of this office,the unusual mildness and integrity of his administration endeared him tothe provincials; whilst the judgment with which he regulated thesupplies of corn from the granary of Rome, gained him equal credit withhis fellow-countrymen. It was during his stay in Sicily that his love ofantiquarianism was gratified by the discovery of the tomb ofArchimedes.[792] On his return home[793] he resumed his forensicpractice: and in B. C. 70 was the champion of his old friends, theSicilians, and impeached Verres, who had been prætor of Syracuse, foroppression and maladministration. In the following year[794] he waselected curule ædile by a triumphant majority. In the celebration of thegames which belonged to the province of this magistrate, he exhibitedgreat prudence by avoiding the lavish expenditure in which so many wereaccustomed to indulge, whilst, at the same time, no one could accuse himof meanness and illiberality.

In the year B. C. 67, he obtained the prætorship, and notwithstandingthe judicial duties of his office, defended Cluentius. Hitherto hisspeeches had been entirely of the judicial kind. He now for the firsttime distinguished himself as a deliberative orator, and supported theManilian law which conferred upon Pompey, to the discomfiture of thearistocratic party, the command in chief of the Mithridatic war.

The great object of his ambition now was the consulship, which seemedalmost inaccessible to a _new man_. As all difficulties and prejudiceswere on the side of the aristocratic party, his only hope of surmountingthem was by warmly espousing the cause of the people.

Catiline and C. Antonius, who were his principal competitors, formed acoalition, and were supported by Cæsar and Crassus, but the influence ofPompey and the popular party prevailed; and Cicero and Antony wereelected. He entered upon his office January 1, B. C. 63. At this period,perhaps, the moral qualities of his character are the highest, and hisgenius shines forth with the brightest splendour.

The conspiracy of Catiline was the great event of his consulship; a plotwhich its historian does not hesitate to dignify with the title of awar. Yet this war was crushed in an unparalleled short space of time;and a splendid triumph was gained over so formidable an enemy, by onewho wore the peaceful _toga_, not the habiliments of a general. Theprudence and tact of the civilian did as good service as the courage anddecision of the soldier. The applause and gratitude of his fellowcitizens were unbounded, and all united in hailing him the father of hiscountry. One act alone laid him open to attack, and in fact eventuallycaused his ruin. There is no doubt that it was unconstitutional,although under the circumstances it was defensible, perhaps scarcely tobe avoided. This act was the execution of Lentulus, Cethegus, and theother ringleaders, without sentence being passed upon them by thecomitia. The senate, seeing that the danger was imminent, had investedCicero and his colleague with power to do all that the exigencies of thestate might require (_videre ne quid res publica detrimenti caperet_;)and although it was Cicero who recommended the measure and argued in itsfavour, it was the senate who pronounced the sentence, and assumed that,as traitors, the conspirators had forfeited their rights as citizens.

The grateful people saw this clearly; and when Metellus Celer, one ofthe tribunes, would have prevented Cicero from giving an account of hisadministration at the close of the consular year, he swore that he savedhis country, and his oath was confirmed by the acclamations of themultitude. This was a great triumph; and in sadder times he looked backto it with a justifiable self-complacency.[795] He now, as though hismission was accomplished, refused all public dignities except that of asenator: but he did not thus escape peril; he soon exposed himself tothe implacable vengeance of a powerful and unscrupulous enemy. Theinfamous P. Clodius Pulcher intruded himself in female attire into therites of the Bona Dea, which were celebrated in the house of Cæsar.Suspicion fell upon Cæsar’s wife, and a divorce was theconsequence.[796] Clodius was brought to trial on the charge ofsacrilege, and pleaded an alibi. Cicero, however, proved his presence inRome on the very day on which the accused asserted that he was atInteramnum.

Although the guilt of Clodius was fully established, his influence overthe corrupt Roman _judices_ was powerful enough to procure an acquittal.Henceforward he never could forgive Cicero, and determined to work hisruin. He caused himself to be adopted in a plebeian family; and thusbecoming qualified for the tribunate was elected to that magistracy,B. C. 59. No sooner was he appointed, than he proposed a bill for theoutlawry of any one who had caused the execution of a citizen withouttrial. Cicero at once saw that this blow was aimed against himself. Hehad disgusted Cæsar by his political coquetry; the false and selfishPompey refused to aid him in his trouble; and spirit-broken, he fled toBrundisium,[797] and thence to Thessalonica. He had an interview withPompey before his flight, but it led to no results.[798] He had sworn tohelp him as long as he felt that there was danger, lest he should joinCæsar’s party; but when he saw that his foes were successful, hedeserted him.

In his absence his exile was decreed, and his town and country houseswere given up to plunder. It cannot be denied that during his banishmenthe exhibited weakness and pusillanimity: his reverses had such an effectupon his mind that he was even supposed to be mad.[799] His great faultwas vanity, of which defect he was himself conscious, and confessedit;[800] and disappointed vanity was the cause of his affliction. Hecould bear anything better than loss of popular applause; and on thisoccasion, more than any other, he gave grounds for the assertion, that“he bore none of his calamities like a man, except his death.” Rome,however, could not forget her preserver; and in the following year hewas recalled, and entered Rome in triumph, in the midst of the loudplaudits of the assembled people.[801] Still, however, he was obliged tosecure the prosperity which he had recovered by politicaltergiversation. The measures of the triumvirate, which he had formerlyattacked with the utmost virulence, he did not hesitate now to approveand defend.

After his return[802] he was appointed to a seat in the College ofAugurs; a dignity which he had anxiously coveted before his exile, andto obtain which, he had offered almost any terms to Cæsar andPompey.[803] The following year, much against his will, the province ofCilicia was assigned to him. Strictly did the accuser of Verres act upto the high and honourable principles which he professed. His was amodel administration: a stop was put to corruption, wrongs wereredressed, justice impartially administered. Those great occasions onwhich he was compelled to act on his own responsibility, and to listento the dictates of his beautiful soul, “_seine schöne seele_,”[804] hispure, honest, and incorruptible heart, are the bright points in Cicero’scareer. The emergency of the occasion overcame his constitutionaltimidity.

In the year B. C. 49, he returned to Rome, and finding himself in aposition in which he could calmly observe the current of affairs, anddetermine unbiassed what part he should take in them, or whether it washis duty to take any part at all, his weak, wavering, vacillating temperagain got the mastery over him. He would not do anything dishonest, buthe was not chivalrous enough to spurn at once that which wasdishonourable. Cæsar and Pompey were now at open war, and he could notmake up his mind which to join.[805] He felt, probably, that the energy,ability, and firmness of Cæsar, would be crowned with success; and yethis friends, his party, and his own heart were with Pompey, and hedreaded the scorn which would be heaped upon him if he forsook hispolitical opinions. His were not the stern, unyielding principles of aCato; but the fear of what men would say of him made him anxious andmiserable. The struggle was a long one between caution and honour, butat length honour overcame caution. He made his decision, and went to thecamp of Pompey; but he could never rally his spirits, or feel sanguineas to the result. He immediately saw that Pharsalia decided the questionfor ever, and consequently hastened to Brundisium, where he awaited thereturn of the conqueror. It was a long time to remain in suspense; butat last the generous Cæsar relieved him from it by a full and freepardon.

And now again his character rose higher, and his good qualities had roomto display themselves. There were no longer equally balanced parties torevive the discord which formerly distracted his mind, nor were thecircumstances of the times such as to demand his active interference inthe cause of his country; but he was as great in the exercise of hiscontemplative faculties as he had been in the brightest period of hispolitical life. The same faults may, perhaps, be discerned in hisphilosophical speculations: the same indecision which rendered himincapable of being a statesman or a patriot caused him to adopt inphilosophy a skeptical eclecticism. Truth was to him as variable aspolitical honesty; but he is always the advocate and supporter ofresignation, and fortitude, and purity, and virtue.

He had hitherto suffered as a public man: he was now bowed down bydomestic affliction. A quarrel with his wife Terentia ended in adivorce:[806] such was the facility with which at Rome the nuptial tiecould be severed. His second wife was his own ward—a young lady of largefortune; but disparity of years and temper prevented this connexion fromlasting long. In B. C. 45 he lost his daughter Tullia. The blow wasoverwhelming: he sought in vain to soothe his grief in the woodysolitudes of his maritime villa at Astura, and it was long before thebereaved father found consolation in philosophy.

The political crisis which ensued upon the assassination of Cæsaralarmed him for his own personal safety: he therefore meditated a voyageto Greece; but being wind-bound at Rhegium, the hopes of anaccommodation between Antony and the senate (a hope destined not to berealized) induced him to return. Antony now left Rome, and Cicerodelivered that torrent of indignant and eloquent invective—his twelvePhilippic orations.[807] He was again the popular idol—crowds ofapplauding and admiring fellow-citizens attended him to the Forum in akind of triumphant procession, as they had on his return from exile. Butsoon the second triumvirate was formed. Each member readily gave upfriends to satisfy the vengeance of his colleagues, and Octaviussacrificed Cicero.

The story of his death is a brief and sad one. He was enjoying theliterary retirement of his Tusculan villa when his friends warned him ofhis approaching fate. He was too great a philosopher to fear death; buttoo high-principled and resigned to the Divine will to commit suicide.Still he scarcely thought life worth preserving: “I will die,” he said,“in my fatherland, which I have so often saved.” However, at theentreaty of his brother, to whom he was affectionately attached, heendeavoured to escape. He first went across the country to Astura, andthere embarked. The weather was tempestuous, and as he suffered muchfrom sea-sickness, he again landed at Gaëta. A treacherous freedmanbetrayed him, and as he was being carried in a litter he was overtakenby his pursuers. He would not permit his attendants to make anyresistance; but patiently and courageously submitted to the sword of theassassins, who cut off his head and hands and carried them to Antony. Asavage joy sparkled in the eyes of the triumvir at the sight of thesebloody trophies. His wife, Fulvia, gloated with inhuman delight upon thepallid features, and in petty spite pierced with a needle that onceeloquent tongue. The head and hands were fixed upon the rostrum whichhad so often witnessed his unequalled eloquence. All that passed bybewailed his death, and gave vent to their affectionate feelings.

Although it is impossible to be blind to the numerous faults of Cicero,few men have been more maligned and misrepresented, and the judgment ofantiquity has been, upon the whole, generally unfavourable. He was vain,vacillating, inconstant, constitutionally timid, and the victim of amorbid sensibility; but he was candid, truthful, just, generous,pure-minded, and warm-hearted. His amiability, acted upon by timidity,led him to set too high a value on public esteem and favour; and thisweakened his moral sense and his instinctive love of virtue. That hepossessed heroism is proved by his defence of Roscius, although thefavourite of the terrible Sulla was his adversary. He was not entirelydestitute of decision, or he would not so promptly have expressed hisapprobation of Cæsar’s assassins as tyrannicides. He had resolution tostrive against his over-sensitiveness, and wisdom to see that mentaloccupation was its best remedy; for in the midst of the distractions andanxieties of that eventful and critical year which preceded theconsulship of Hirtius and Pansa an almost incredible number of worksproceeded from his pen.[808]

There are many circumstances to account for his political inconsistencyand indecision. He had an early predilection for the aristocratic party;but he saw that they were narrow-minded and behind their age. All thepatricians, except Sulla and his small party, were on the popular side.He was proud of his connexion with Marius; and his friend SulpiciusRufus, whom he greatly admired, joined the Marians. For these reasons,Cicero was inconsistent as a politician. Again, during periods ofrevolutionary turbulence, moderate men are detested by both sides; andyet it was impossible for a philosophic temper, which could calmly anddispassionately weigh the merits and demerits of both, to sympathizewarmly with either. Cicero saw that both were wrong: he was tootemperate to approve, too honest to pretend a zeal which he did notfeel, and, therefore, he was undecided.

Again, having a large benevolence, and a firm faith in virtue, he wasunconscious of guile himself, and thought no evil of others. Hetherefore mistook flattery for sincerity, and compliments for kindness.He was vain; but vanity is a weakness not inconsistent with great minds,and in the case of Cicero it was fed by the unanimous voice of publicapprobation.

As an advocate his delight was to defend, not to accuse.[809] In threeonly of his twenty-four orations did he undertake the office of anaccuser.

Gentle, sympathizing, and affectionate, he lived as a patriot and diedas a philosopher.

 CHAPTER X. CICERO NO HISTORIAN—HIS ORATORICAL STYLE DEFENDED—ITS PRINCIPAL CHARM—OBSERVATIONS ON HIS FORENSIC ORATION—HIS ORATORY ESSENTIALLY JUDICIAL—POLITICAL ORATIONS—RHETORICAL TREATISES—THE OBJECT OF HIS PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS—CHARACTERISTICS OF ROMAN PHILOSOPHICAL LITERATURE—PHILOSOPHY OF CICERO—HIS POLITICAL WORKS—LETTERS—HIS CORRESPONDENTS—VARRO.

Such were the life and character of Cicero. The place which he occupiesin a history of Roman literature is that of an orator and philosopher.It has been already stated that he had some taste for poetry: in fact,without imagination he could scarcely have been so eminent as an orator;but though the power which he wielded over prose was irresistible, hehad not fancy enough to give a poetical character to the language.

Nor had he, notwithstanding the versatility of his talents, any tastefor historical investigation. He delighted to read the Greek historians,for the same purpose for which he studied the Attic orators, merely asan instrument of intellectual cultivation; but he was ignorant of Romanhistory, because he took no interest in original research. Hiscountrymen[810] expected from him an historical work, but he was unfitfor the task. It is plain from his “_Republic_,” how little he knew asan antiquarian.

The greatest praise of an orator’s style is to say that he wassuccessful. The end and object of oratory is to convince and persuade—torivet the attention of the hearer, and to gain a mastery over the mindsof men. If, therefore, any who study the speeches of Cicero in thecloset find faults in his style, they must remember the very faultsthemselves were suited to the object which he was carrying intoexecution. During the process of raising the public taste to the higheststandard, he carried his hearers with him: he was not too much inadvance; he did not aim his shafts too high; they hit the head andheart. Senate, judges, people understood his arguments, and felt hispassionate appeals. Compared with the dignified energy and majesticvigour of the Athenian orator, the Asiatic exuberance of some of hisorations may be fatiguing to the sober and chastened taste of the modernclassical scholar; but in order to form a just appreciation, he musttransport himself mentally to the excitements of the thronged Forum—tothe senate composed, not of aged, venerable men, but statesmen andwarriors in the prime of life, maddened with the party spirit ofrevolutionary times—to the presence of the jury of _judices_, asnumerous as a deliberative assembly, whose office was not merely calmlyto give their verdict of guilty or not guilty, but who were invested asrepresentatives of the sovereign people with the prerogative ofpardoning or condemning.

Viewed in this light, his most florid passages will appear free fromaffectation—the natural flow of a speaker carried away with the torrentof his enthusiasm. The melodious rise and fall of his periods are notthe result of studied effect, but of a true and musical ear.Undoubtedly, amongst his earlier orations, are to be found passagessomewhat too declamatory and inconsistent with the principles which heafterwards laid down when his taste was more matured, and when heundertook to write scientifically on the theory of eloquence. Nor mustit be concealed that some of the staid and stern Romans of his own dayswere daring enough, notwithstanding his popularity and success, to findthe same fault with him. “Suorum temporum homines,” says Quintilian,“incessere audebant eum ut tumidiorem et Asianum[811] et redundantem etin repetitionibus nimium et in salibus aliquando frigidum et incompositione fractum et exsultantem et pene viro molliorem.”

But it is not only the brilliance and variety of expression, and thefinely-modulated periods, which constituted the principal charm ofCiceronian oratory, and rendered it so effective. Its effectiveness wasmainly owing to the great orator’s knowledge of the human heart, and ofthe national peculiarities of his countrymen. Its charm was owing to hisextensive acquaintance with the stores of literature and philosophy,which his sprightly wit moulded at will, to the varied learning whichhis unpedantic mind made so pleasant and popular, to his fund ofillustration at once interesting and convincing. Even if his knowledge,because it spread over so wide a surface, was superficial, in this caseprofoundness was unnecessary.

In a work like the present it is only possible to devote a few briefobservations to the most important of his numerous orations, in which,according to the criticism of Quintilian, he combined the force ofDemosthenes, the copiousness of Plato, and the elegance of Isocrates.Knowledge of law, far superior to that possessed by the great orators ofthe day,[812] distinguishes his earliest extant oration, the defence ofP. Quinctius.[813] Hortensius was the defendant’s counsel. Nævius, thedefendant, who had unjustly possessed himself of the property of theplaintiff’s deceased brother, was a deserter from the Marians, andtherefore a protégé of Sylla; but, notwithstanding these disadvantages,Cicero gained his cause. In the masterly defence of S. Roscius,[814]Cicero again defied Sulla. His client was accused of parricide: therewas not a shadow of proof, and Cicero saved the life of an innocent man.The noble enthusiasm with which he inveighs against tyranny in thisoration strikingly contrasts with the language, full of sweetness, inwhich he describes Roman rural life. The passage on parricide was tooglowing and Asiatic for the taste of his maturer years, and he did nothesitate to make it the subject of severe criticism.[815] Passing overspeeches of less interest, we come to the six celebrated Verrianorations. Of these _chefs-d’œuvre_ the first only was delivered.[816]The others were merely published; for the voluntary exile of thecriminal rendered further pleading unnecessary. The first is entitled“_Divinatio_,” _i. e._, an inquiry as to who should have the right ofprosecuting: Cæcilius, who had been quæstor to the accused, claimed thisprivilege, wishing to make the suit a friendly one, and thus quash theproceedings. Nothing can surpass the ironical and sarcastic exposure ofthis fraudulent attempt to defeat the ends of justice. The noblepassages in the succeeding orations of the series are well known; thesketch of the wicked proconsul’s antecedent career; the graceful eulogyof that province, in the welfare of which Cicero himself felt so warm aninterest; the tasteful description of the statues and antiquities whichtempted the more than Roman cupidity of Verres; the interesting historyof ancient art which accompanies it; the burst of pathetic indignationwith which he paints the horrible tortures to which not only theprovincials, but even Roman citizens, were exposed. Transports of joypervaded the whole of Sicily at Cicero’s success; and the Sicilianscaused a medal to be struck with this inscription—“PROSTRATO VERRETRINACRIA.” The oration for Fonteius[817] is a skilful defence of anunpopular governor; that in defence of Cluentius[818] is one of the mostremarkable _causes célèbres_ of antiquity; and the complicated scene ofvillany which Cicero’s forcible and soul-harrowing language paints,makes one shudder with horror, whilst we are struck with admiration atthe clearness of intellect with which he unravels the web of guilt wovenby Oppianicus and Sassia. This remarkable oration has been analyzed byDr. Blair.[819]

Again, passing over other forensic orations, we come to that on which hehad evidently expended all his resources of art, taste, and skill—thespeech for the poet Archias.[820] If possible it is even too elaborateand polished for so graceful a theme. Although the object of theadvocate was simply to establish the right of his client to Romancitizenship, the genius of the poet of Antioch furnished an opportunitynot to be neglected for digressing into the fields of literature, andfor pronouncing a truly academical eulogium on poetry. It issatisfactory to the admirers of Cicero to find that the attack which hasbeen made on the genuineness of this pleasing oration is groundless andunwarrantable.[821]

The oration _pro Cælio_[822] is the most entertaining in the wholecollection. It contains a rich fund of anecdote, seasoned with wittyobservations; a knowledge of human nature illustrated in a piquant andhumorous style, expressed in a tone of most gentlemanlike yet playfuleloquence, and interspersed with passages of great beauty. It presents amarked contrast to the coarse personal abuse which defaces the otherwisepowerful invective against L. Piso, which was delivered in the followingyear.[823]

The list, though many more marvellous specimens are omitted, must beclosed with the oration in defence of T. Annius Milo. On this occasionCicero lost his wonted self-possession. When the court opened, Pompeywas presiding on the bench, and he had caused the Forum to be occupiedwith soldiers. The sight, added, perhaps, to the consciousness that hewas advocating a bad cause, struck Cicero with alarm; his voicetrembled, his tongue refused to give utterance to the conceptions whichhe had formed. The judges were unmoved; and Milo remained in hisself-imposed exile at Marseilles. When Cicero left the court his courageand calmness returned. He penned the oration which is now extant. He hadlittle or no proof or evidence to offer, and therefore, as anargumentative work, it is unconvincing; but for force, pathos, and theexternals of eloquence, it deserves to be reckoned amongst his mostwonderful efforts. When the exiled Milo read it, he is said to haveexclaimed, “O, Cicero, if you had pleaded so, I should not be eatingsuch capital fish here!” The author himself and his contemporariesthought this his finest oration; probably its deficiencies wereconcealed by its eloquence and ingenuity. It appears that the orationwhich he actually delivered was taken down in writing by reporters, andwas extant in the time of Asconius Pedianus, the most ancientcommentator on Cicero’s orations.[824] Its feebleness proved thecorrectness of the judgment of antiquity.

The oratory of Cicero was essentially judicial: he was himself consciousthat his talents lay in that direction, and he saw that in that fieldwas the best opportunity for displaying oratorical power. Even hispolitical orations are rather judicial than deliberative. He was notborn for a politician. He possessed not that analytical character ofmind which penetrates into the remote causes of human action, nor thesynthetical power which enables a man to follow them out to theirfarthest consequences; he had not that comprehensive grasp of mind whichcan dismiss at once all points of minor importance and uselessspeculation, and, seizing all the salient points, can bring them to beartogether upon questions of practical expediency. Of the three qualitiesnecessary for a statesman he possessed only two, honesty and patriotism:he had not political wisdom.

Hence, in the finest specimens of his political harangues, hisCatilinarians and Philippics, and that in support of the Manilian law,we look in vain for the calm, practical weighing of the subject which isnecessary in addressing a deliberative assembly. This was not the habitof his mind. He was only lashed to action by circumstances of greatemergency; but even then he is still an advocate—all is excitement,personal feeling, and party spirit: he deals in invective and panegyric,and the denunciation of the enemies of his country; and the parts whichespecially call forth our admiration differ in nothing from those whichwe admire in his judicial orations. Nevertheless, so irresistible wasthe influence which he exercised upon the minds of his hearers, that allhis political speeches were triumphs. His panegyric on Pompey,[825] inthe speech for the Manilian law, carried his appointment ascommander-in-chief of the armies of the East. The consequence of theoration _de Provinciis Consularibus_ continued to Cæsar hisadministration of Gaul. He crushed in Catiline one of the mostformidable traitors that had ever menaced the safety of the republic.Antony’s fall followed the complete exposure of his debauchery inprivate life, and the factiousness of his public career.[826]

Of the Catilinarians, the first and fourth were delivered in the senate,the second and third in the presence of the people. Every one knows theburst of indignation which the consul, rising in his place, aims at theaudacious conspirator who dared to pollute with his presence the templeof the deity, and the most august assembly of the Roman people. In lessthan twenty-four hours Catiline had left Rome, and the conspiracy hadbecome a war. In four words Cicero announced this to the assembledRomans the day after he had addressed the senate. The third is a pieceof self-complacent but pardonable egotism. Success has overwhelmedhim—he sees that all eyes are turned upon himself—he is the hero of hisown story; still he demands no reward but the approbation of hisfellow-citizens, and reminds them that to the gods alone their gratitudeis due.

Two days pass away, and after Cæsar and Cicero had spoken, Cicero againaddresses the senate, and recommends that measure which was thebeginning of his troubles, the condemnation of the conspirators. Thezeal of the senate made the act their own, but Cicero paid the penalty.The position which Cicero occupies on this occasion invests his speechwith more dignity than is displayed in any of the preceding. He is thechief magistrate of the republic, performing the duty of pronouncing acapital sentence on the guilty. The excitement of the crisis issubsiding; and he has the more composure, because he knows that hecarries with him the sympathies of the senate and people.

The Philippics, so named after the orations of Demosthenes, are fourteenin number. Cicero commenced his attack[827] upon the object of hisimplacable hatred with a defence of the laws of Cæsar, which Antonywished to repeal. He followed it up with the celebrated second oration,in which he demolished the character of Antony; a speech which Juvenalpronounced to be his _chef-d’œuvre_, but which Niebuhr thought wasundeserving of being so highly exalted. He delivered the remainingtwelve in the course of the succeeding year; they were the lastmonuments of his eloquence; he never spoke again. The fourteenth is abrilliant panegyric, but nothing more; the gallant army of Octaviusreceived their deserved applause; but in this political crisis theorator could not discern or even catch a glimpse of the future destiniesof his country.

In his rhetorical works, Cicero left a legacy of practical instructionto posterity. The treatise “_De Inventione_,” although it displaysgenius, is merely interesting as the juvenile production of a futuregreat man; and the author himself alludes to it as a rude and unfinishedproduction.[828] Of the Rhetorical Hand-Book, in four sections,addressed to Herennius, it is unnecessary to speak, as it is nowuniversally pronounced spurious.[829] The _De Oratore_, _Brutus sive declaris Oratoribus_, and _Orator ad M. Brutum_,[830] are the result ofhis matured experience. They form together one series; the principlesare first laid down; their developments are carried out and illustrated;and lastly, in the _Orator_, he places before the eyes of Brutus themodel of ideal perfection. In his treatment of this subject, he shows amind imbued with the spirit of Plato: he invests it with dramaticinterest, and transports the reader into the scene which he sographically describes. The conversation contained in the first of theseworks has been already described. The scene of the second is laid on thelawn of Cicero’s palace at Rome: Cicero, Atticus and M. Brutus are the_dramatis personæ_; and their taste receives inspiration from a statueof Plato which adorns the garden. In the third, Cicero himself, at therequest of M. Brutus, paints, as Plato would have done, the portrait ofa faultless orator.

Three more short treatises must be added—(1.) The dialogue, _DePartitione Oratoria_,[831] an elementary book, written for his son. (2.)The _De Optimo Genere Oratorum_,[832] a short preface to a translationof the Greek oration, _De Corona_. (3.) The _Topica_,[833] _i. e._, atreatise on the commonplaces of judicial oratory.

 PHILOSOPHY OF CICERO.

Cicero somewhat arrogantly claims the credit of being the first toawaken a taste for philosophy, and to illuminate the darkness in whichit lay hid by the light of Roman letters.[834] He did not confess theobligations under which he lay to his predecessors, because he nevercould forget that he was an orator.[835] He could not deny that some ofthem thought justly; but he denied that they possessed the power ofexpressing what they thought. He felt that there was nothing in thephilosophical writings already existing to tempt his countrymen to studythe subject: they were dry, unadorned, unpolished. It required an oratorto array philosophy in an enticing garb. He proposed, therefore, toassuage his anxieties—to seek repose from the harassing cares ofpolitics[836]—by rendering his countrymen independent of Greekphilosophical literature.

This was all he proposed to himself: it was all that his predecessor hadattempted; nor did he pretend to originality. The periods which hedevoted to the task, and to which all philosophical works belong, werethose during which he was excluded from political life. The first ofthese was the triumvirate of Cæsar, Pompey, and Crassus; the second wascoincident with the dictatorship of Cæsar and the consulship of Antony.Not only did his contemplative spirit delight in such studies, but,whilst all the avenues to distinction were closed against him, hisambition sought this road to fame, and his patriotism urged him to takethis method of benefiting his country. But as he was not the first whointroduced philosophy to the Romans, it will be necessary briefly tosketch its progress up to the time at which his labours commenced.

Roman philosophy was neither the result of original investigation northe gradual development of the Greek system. It arose rather from astudy of ancient philosophical literature than from an examination ofphilosophical principles. The Roman intellect did not possess the powerof abstraction in a sufficiently high degree for research, nor was theLatin language capable of representing satisfactorily abstract thoughts.Cicero was quite aware of the poverty of its scientific nomenclature, ascompared with that of Greece. In one treatise,[837] he writes,—“Equidemsoleo etiam, quod uno Græci, si aliter non possum, idem pluribus verbisexprimere.” Pliny[838] and Seneca[839] assert the same fact. “Magisdamnabis,” writes the latter, “angustias Romanas si scieris unamsyllabam esse, quam mutare non possim. Quæ hæc sit quæris? το ον.” Thepractical character also of the people prompted them to take advantageof the material already furnished by others, and to select suchdoctrines as it approved, without regard to their relation to eachother.

The Roman philosopher, therefore, or rather (to speak more correctly)philosophical student, did not throw himself into the speculations ofhis age, pursue them contemporaneously, or deduce from them freshresults. He went back to the earlier ages of Greek philosophy, studied,commented on, and explained the works of the best authors, and adoptedsome of their doctrines as fixed scholastic dogmas. Consequently, thespirit in which philosophical study was pursued by the Romans was aliterary and not a scientific one. A taste for literature had beenawakened, and philosophy was considered only as one species ofliterature, although its importance was recognised as bearing upon thepractical duties, the highest interests and happiness of man. Thepractical view which Cicero took of philosophy, and the extensiveinfluence which he attributed to it, is manifest from numerous passagesin his works,[840] and is imbodied in the following beautiful apostrophein the Tusculan Disputations:[841] “O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutisindagatrix, expultrixque vitiorum! Quid non modo nos, sed omnino vitahominum sine te esse potuisset? Tu urbes peperisti; tu dissipatoshomines in societatem vitæ convocasti; tu eos inter se primo domiciliis,deinde conjugiis, tum literarum et vocum communione junxisti; tuinventrix legum, tu magistra morum et disciplinæ fuisti; ad teconfugimus, a te opem petimus; tibi nos, ut antea magna ex parte, sicnunc penitus totosque tradimus.”

It is plain, therefore, that the chief characteristics of Romanphilosophy would be—(1.) Learning, for it consisted in bringing togetherdoctrines and opinions scattered over a wide field; (2,) Generallyspeaking, an ethical purpose and object, for Romans would be littleinclined to value any subject of study which had no ultimate referenceto man’s political and social relations; (3,) Eclecticism; for althoughthere were certain schools, such as the Epicurean and Stoic, which wereevidently favourites, the dogmas of different teachers were collectedand combined together often without regard to consistency.

The defects of such a system are fatal to its claim to be consideredphilosophical; for the scientific connexion of its parts is lost sightof, and results are presented independent of the chain of causes andeffects by which they are connected with principles. Such a system mustnecessarily be illogical and inconsequential. Even the liberality whichadopts the principle, “Nullius jurare in verba magistri,” and which,therefore, appears to be its chief merit, was absurd; and thewillingness with which all views were readily admitted led toskepticism, or doubt whether such a thing as absolute truth had a realexistence.

Greek philosophy was probably first introduced into Rome by the Achæanexiles, of whom Polybius was one.[842] The embassy of Carneades theAcademic, Diogenes the Stoic, and Critolaus the Peripatetic, followedsix years afterwards. In vain the stern M. Porcius Cato caused theirdismissal; for some of the most illustrious and accomplished Romans,such as Africanus, Lælius, and Furius, had already profited by theirlectures and instructions.[843] Whilst the educated Romans were gainingan historical insight into the doctrines of these schools, the StoicPanætius, who was entertained in the household of Scipio Africanus, wasunfolding the mysterious and transcendental doctrines of the greatobject of his veneration, Plato. But although the Romans couldappreciate the majestic dignity and poetical beauty of his style, theywere not equal to the task of penetrating his hidden meaning; they were,therefore, content to take upon trust the glosses and commentaries ofhis expositors. These inclined to the New Academy rather than to theOld: in its skeptical spirit they compared and balanced opposingprobabilities; and went no farther than recommending the adoption ofopinions upon which they could not pronounce with certainty. Neither didthe Peripatetic doctrines meet with much favour, although the works ofAristotle had been brought to Rome by the dictator Sulla, partly, asCicero says, because of the vastness of the subjects treated, partlybecause they seemed incapable of satisfactory proof to unskilled andinexperienced minds.[844]

The philosophical system which first arrested the attention of theRomans, and gained an influence over their minds, was theEpicurean.[845] But it is somewhat remarkable that, although thisphilosophy was in its general character ethical, a people so eminentlypractical in their turn of mind should have especially devotedthemselves to the study of the physical speculations of thisschool.[846] The only apparent exception to this statement is Catius,but even his principal works, although he wrote one, “_de Summo Bono_,”are on the physical nature of things.[847]

Cicero accounts for the popularity of Epicureanism by saying that it waseasy—that it appealed to the blandishments of pleasure; and that itsfirst professors, Amafanius and Rabirius, used none of the refinementsof art or subtleties or dialectic, but clothed their discussions in ahomely and popular style, suited to the simple and unlearned. There weremany successors to Amafanius; and the doctrines which they taughtrapidly spread over the whole of Italy. Many illustrious statesmen,also, were amongst the believers in this fashionable creed; of whom thebest known are C. Cassius, the fellow-conspirator of Brutus, and T.Pomponius Atticus, the friend of Cicero. All the monuments and records,however, of the Epicurean philosophy, which were published in Latin,have perished, with the exception of the immortal work of T. LucretiusCarus, “De Naturâ Rerum.”

Nor was Stoicism, the severe principles of which were in harmony withthe stern old Roman virtues, without distinguished disciples; such aswere the unflinching M. Brutus, the learned Terentius Varro, the juristScævola, the unbending Cato of Utica, and the magnificent Lucullus—aStoic in creed, though not in life and conduct. The part which Cicero’scharacter qualified him to perform in the philosophical instruction ofhis countrymen was scarcely that of a guide: he could give them a livelyinterest in the subject, and reveal to them the discoveries andspeculations of others, but he could not mould and form their belief,and train them in the work of original investigation. Not being himselfdevoutly attached to any system of philosophical belief, he would becautious of offending the philosophical prejudices of others. He lovedlearning, but his temper was undecided and vacillating: whilst,therefore, he delighted in accumulating stores of Greek erudition, thetendency of his mind was, in the midst of a variety of inconsistentdoctrines, to leave the conclusion undetermined. Although he listened tovarious instructors—Phædrus the Epicurean, Diodotus the Stoic, and Philothe Academician—he found the eclecticism of the latter more congenial tohis taste. Its preference of probability to certainty suited one whoshrunk from the responsibility of deciding.

It is this personality, as it were, which gives a special interest tothe Ciceronian philosophy. The reflexion of his personal character whichpervades it rescues it from the imputation of being a mere transcript ofhis Greek originals. Cicero brings everything as much as possible to apractical standard. If the question arises between the study of moralsand politics and that of physics or metaphysics, he decides in favour ofthe former, on the grounds that the latter transcends the capacities ofthe human intellect;[848] that in morals and politics we are underobligations from which in physics we are free; that we are bound to tearourselves from these abstract studies at the call of duty to our countryor our fellow-creatures, even if we were able to count the stars ormeasure the magnitude of the universe.[849] In the didactic method whichhe pursues he bears in mind that he is dealing not with contemplativephilosophers, or minds that have been logically trained, but withstatesmen and men of the world; he does not therefore claim too much, ormake his lessons too hard, and is always ready to sacrifice scientificsystem to a method of popular instruction. His object seems to be torecommend the subject—to smoothe difficulties, and illustrateobscurities. He evidently admires the exalted purity of Stoicalmorality; and the principles of that sect are those which he endeavoursto impress upon his son.[850] His only fear is that their system isimpracticable.[851]

Cicero believed in the existence of one supreme Creator and Governor ofthe universe, and also in His spiritual nature;[852] but his belief israther the result of instinctive conviction, than of the proofs derivedfrom philosophy; for as to them, he is, as on other points, uncertainand wavering. He disbelieved the popular mythical religion; but,uncertain as to what was the truth, he would not have that disturbedwhich he looked upon as a political engine.[853] Amidst the doubtful andconflicting reasons, respecting the human soul and man’s eternaldestiny, there is no doubt that, although he finds no satisfactoryproof, he is a believer in immortality.[854] It is unnecessary to pursuethe subject of his philosophical creed any further, because it is not asystem, but only a collection of precepts, not of investigations. Itsmaterials are borrowed, its illustrations alone novel. But,nevertheless, the study of Cicero’s philosophical works is invaluable,in order to understand the minds of those who came after him. It mustnot be forgotten, that not only all Roman philosophy after his time, buta great part of that of the middle ages, was Greek philosophy filteredthrough Latin, and mainly founded on that of Cicero. Cicero’s works onspeculative philosophy generally consist of—(1.) _The Academics_, or ahistory and defence of the belief of the New Academy. (2.) The _DeFinibus Bonorum et Malorum_, dialogues on the supreme good, the end ofall moral action. (3.) _The Tusculanæ Disputationes_, containing fiveindependent treatises on the fear of death, the endurance of pain, thepower of wisdom over sorrow, the morbid passions, the relation of virtueto happiness. In these treatises Stoicism predominates, althoughopinions are adduced from the whole range of Greek philosophy. (4.)_Paradoxa_, in which the six celebrated Stoical paradoxies are touchedupon in a light and amusing manner. (5.) A dialogue in praise ofphilosophy, named after Hortensius. (6.) Translations of the Timæus andProtagoras of Plato. Of these last three treatises only a few fragmentsremain.

His moral philosophy comprehends—(1.) The _De Officiis_, a Stoicaltreatise on moral obligations, addressed to his son Marcus, at that timea student at Athens. (2.) The unequalled little essays on Friendship andOld Age. A few words also are preserved of two books on Glory, addressedto Atticus; and one which he wrote on the Alleviation of Grief whenbereaved of his beloved daughter.[855] He left one theological work inthree parts: the first part is on the “Nature of the Gods;” the secondon the “Science of Divination;” the third on “Fate,” of which aninconsiderable fragment is extant. His office of augur probablysuggested to him the composition of these treatises.

His political works are two in number—the _De Republica_[856] and _DeLegibus_; both are imperfect. The remains of the former are onlyfragmentary; of the latter, three out of six books are extant, and thosenot entire. Nevertheless, sufficient of both remains to enable us toform some estimate of their philosophical character. Although he doesnot profess originality, but confesses that they are imitations of thetwo treatises of Plato, which bear the same name, still they are moreinductive than any of his other treatises. His purpose is, like that ofPlato, to give in the one an ideal republic, and in the other a sketchof a model legislation; but the novelty of the treatment consists intheir principles being derived from the Roman constitution and the Romanlaws.

The questions which he proposes to answer are, what is the bestgovernment and the best code: but the limits within which he confineshimself are the institutions of his country. In the Republic he firstdiscusses, like the Greek philosophers, the merits and demerits of thethree pure forms of government; and upon the whole decides in favour ofmonarchy[857] as the best. With Aristotle[858] he agrees that all thepure forms are liable to degenerate,[859] and comes to the conclusionthat the idea of a perfect polity is a combination of all three.[860] Inorder to prove and illustrate his theory, he investigates, though itmust be confessed in a meager and imperfect manner, the constitutionalhistory of Rome, and discovers the monarchical element in theconsulship, the aristocratic in the senate, and the popular in theassembly of the people and the tribunitial authority.

The Romans continued jealously to preserve the shadow of theirconstitution even after they had surrendered the substance. Nominally,the titles and offices of the old republic never perished—the Emperorwas in name nothing more than (Imperator) the commander-in-chief of thearmies of the republic, but in him all power centred: he was absolute,autocratic, the chief of a military despotism.[861] Cicero, as thetreatise _De Legibus_ plainly shows, saw, with approbation, that thisstate of things was rapidly coming to pass; that the people were notfitted to be trusted with liberty, and yet that they would be contentedwith its semblance and name.

The method which he pursues, is, firstly, to treat the subject in theabstract, and to investigate the nature of law; and, secondly, topropose an ideal code, limited by the principles of Roman jurisprudence.Thus Cicero’s polity and code were not Utopian—the models on which theywere formed had a real tangible existence. His was the system of apractical man, as the Roman constitution was that of a practical people.It was not like Greek liberty, the realization of one single idea; itwas like that of England, the growth of ages, the development of a longtrain of circumstances, and expedients, and experiments, andemergencies. Cicero prudently acquiesced in the ruin of liberty as astern necessity; but he evidently thought that Rome had attained thezenith of its national greatness immediately before the agitations ofthe Gracchi.

Both these works are written in the engaging form of dialogues. In theone, Scipio Æmilianus, Lælius, Scævola, and others, meet together in theLatin holidays (Feriæ Latinæ,) and discuss the question of government.In the other, the writer himself, with his brother Quintus and Atticus,converse on jurisprudence whilst they saunter on a little islet nearArpinum at the confluence of the Liris and Fibrena.

We must, lastly, contemplate Cicero as a correspondent. This intercourseof congenial minds separated from one another, and induced by the forceof circumstances to digest and arrange their thoughts in theircommunication, forms one of the most delightful and interesting, and atthe same time one of the most characteristic, portions of Romanliterature. A Roman thought that whenever he put pen to paper it was hisduty, to a certain extent, to avoid carelessness and offences againstgood taste, and to bestow upon his friend some portion of that elaborateattention which, as an author, he would devote to the public eye. Infact the letter-writer was almost addressing the same persons as theauthor; for the latter wrote for the approbation of his friends, thecircle of intimates in which he lived: the approbation of the public wasa secondary object. The Greeks were not writers of letters: the fewwhich we possess were mere written messages, containing such necessaryinformation as the interruption of intercourse demanded. There was nointerchange of hopes and fears, thoughts, sentiments, and feelings.

The extent of Cicero’s correspondence is almost incredible: even thoseepistles which remain form a very voluminous collection—more than eighthundred are extant. The letters to his friends and acquaintances (adFamiliares) occupy sixteen books; those to Atticus sixteen more; and wehave besides three books of letters to Quintus, and one to Brutus; butthe authenticity of this last collection is somewhat doubtful. It isquite clear that none of them were intended for publication, as those ofPliny and Seneca were. They are elegant without stiffness, the naturaloutpourings of a mind which could not give birth to an ungraceful idea.When speaking of the perilous and critical politics of the day, more orless restraint and reserve are apparent, according to the intimacy withthe person whom he is addressing, but no attempt at pompous display. Hisstyle is so simple that the reader forgets that Cicero ever wrote ordelivered an oration. There is the eloquence of the heart, not of therhetoric school. Every subject is touched upon which could interest thestatesman, the man of letters, the admirer of the fine arts, or the manof the world. The writer reveals in them his own motives, his secretsprings of actions, his loves, his hatreds, his strength, his weakness.They extend over more than a quarter of a century, the most interestingperiod of his own life, and one of the most critical in the history ofhis country. The letters to Quintus are those of an elder brother to onewho stood in great need of good advice. Although Quintus was notdeserving of his brother’s affection, M. Cicero was warmly attached tohim, and took an interest in his welfare. Quintus was proprætor of Asia,and not fitted for the office; and Cicero was not sparing in hisadmonitions, though he offered them with kindness and delicacy. Thedetails of his family concerns form not the least interesting portion ofthis correspondence. There is, as might be expected, more reserve in theletters _ad Familiares_ than in those addressed to Atticus. They arewritten to a variety of correspondents, of every shade and complexion ofopinions, many of them mere acquaintances, not intimate friends; butwhilst, for this reason, less historically valuable, they are the mostpleasing of the collection, on account of the exquisite elegance oftheir style. They are models of pure Latinity. In the letters toAtticus, on the other hand, he lays bare the secrets of his heart; hetrusts his life in his hands; he is not only his friend but hisconfidant, his second self. Were it not for the letters of Cicero, weshould have had but a superficial knowledge of this period of Romanhistory, as well as of the inner life of Roman society.

An elegant poetic compliment paid to Cicero by Laurea Tullus, one of hisfreedmen, has been preserved by Pliny.[862] The subject of it is amedicinal spring in the neighbourhood of the Academy.

 Quo tua Romanæ vindex clarissime linguæ Silva loco melius surgere jussa viret Atque Academiæ celebratam nomine villam Nunc reparat cultu sub potiore Vetus: Hic etiam adparent lymphæ non ante repertæ Languida quæ infuso lumina rore levant. Nimirum locus ipse sui Ciceronis honori Hoc dedit hac fontes cum patefecit opes Ut quoniam totum legitur sine fine per orbem Sint plures oculis quæ medeantur, aquæ.

 Father of eloquence in Rome, The groves that once pertained to thee Now with a fresher verdure bloom Around thy famed Academy.

 Vetus at length this favoured seat Hath with a tasteful care restored; And newly at thy loved retreat A gushing fount its stream has poured.

 These waters cure an aching sight; And thus the spring that bursts to view Through future ages shall requite The fame this spot from Tully drew. _Elton._

The correspondents of Cicero included a number of eminent men. Atticuswas the least interesting, for his politic caution rendered him unstableand insincere; but there was Cassius the tyrannicide; the Stoical Catoof Utica; Cæcina, the warm partisan of Pompey; the orator Cælius Rufus;Hirtius and Oppius, the literary friends of Cæsar; Lucceius thehistorian; Matius the mimiambic poet; and that patron of arts andletters,[863] C. Asinius Pollio.

Pollio was a scion of a distinguished house, and was born at Rome B. C.76.[864] Even as a youth he was distinguished for wit andsprightliness;[865] and at the age of twenty-two was the prosecutor ofC. Cato. He was with Cæsar at the Rubicon, at Pharsalia, in Africa, andin Spain; and was finally intrusted with the conduct of the war in thatprovince against Sextus Pompey. On the establishment of the firsttriumvirate, Pollio, after some hesitation, sent in his adhesion; andAntony intrusted him with the administration of Gallia Transpadana,including the allotment of the confiscated lands among the veteransoldiers. He thus had opportunity of protecting Virgil and saving hisproperty. In B. C. 40, Octavian and Antony were reconciled at Brundisiumby his mediation. A successful campaign in Illyria concluded hismilitary career with the glories of a triumph,[866] and he then retiredfrom public life to his villa at Tusculum, and devoted himself to study.He enjoyed life to the last, and died in his eightieth year. He leftthree children, one of whom, Asinius Gallus,[867] wrote a comparisonbetween his father and Cicero, which was answered by the EmperorClaudius.[868]

In oratory, poetry, and history, Pollio enjoyed a high reputation amongcontemporary critics, and yet none of his works have survived. Thesolution of this difficulty may, perhaps, be found in the followingcircumstances:—1. His patronage of literary men rendered him popular,and drew from the critics a somewhat partial verdict. His kindnesscaused Horace to extol[869] him, and Virgil to address to him his mostremarkable eclogue.[870] 2. His taste was formed before the new literaryschool commenced. He had always a profound admiration for the oldwriters, and frequently quoted them. His style probably appearedantiquated and pedantic, and, therefore, never became generally popular.A later writer[871] says, that he was so harsh and dry as to appear tohave reproduced the style of Attius and Pacuvius, not only in histragedies, but also in his orations. Quintilian observes,[872] that heseemed to belong to the pre-Ciceronian period. Niebuhr, who could onlyform his opinion upon the slight fragments preserved by Seneca, for thethree letters in Cicero’s collection[873] are only despatches, affirmsthat he seems to stand between two distinct generations,[874] namely,the literary periods of Cicero and Virgil. His great work was a historyof the civil wars, in seventeen books. He pretended to be a critic, buthis criticism was fastidious and somewhat ill-natured. He foundblemishes in Cicero, inaccuracies in Cæsar, pedantry in Sallust, andprovincialism (Patavinitas) in Livy. The correctness of his judgmentrespecting the charming narratives of the great historian has beenassumed from generation to generation, yet no one can discover in whatthis _Pativinity_ consists. It was easier to find fault than to writecorrectly; for, whilst all the labours of the critic have perished,Cicero, Cæsar, Sallust, and Livy are immortal. Vehemence and passiondeveloped his character.

Still he was one of the greatest benefactors to the literature of hiscountry; more especially as he was the first to found a public library.Books had already been brought to Rome, and collections formed. ÆmiliusPaulus had a library—Lucullus had one also, to which he allowed learnedmen to have access. Sulla enriched Rome with the plunder of the Athenianlibraries; and in his time Tyrannis the grammarian was the possessor ofthree thousand volumes. Julius Cæsar employed the learned Varro tocollect books with a view to a national collection, but death put a stopto his intentions.[875] Pollio expended the spoils of Dalmatia infounding a temple to Liberty in the Aventine, and furnishing it with alibrary, the nucleus of which were the collections of Sulla and Varro.After this time, the work was carried on by imperial munificence.Augustus founded the Octavian library in the temple of Juno, and thePalatine in the palace. Tiberius augmented the latter. Vespasian placedone in the temple of Peace. Trajan formed the Ulpian; Domitian theCapitoline; Hadrian a magnificent one at his own villa; and in the reignof Constantine the number of public libraries exceeded twenty.

 M. TERENTIUS VARRO REATINUS (BORN B. C. 116.)

On an ancient medal is represented the effigy of Julius Cæsar bearing abook in one hand and a sword in the other,[876] with the legend “Exutroque Cæsar.” This device represents the genius of many adistinguished citizen of the republic, and that of Varro amongst thenumber, for he was a soldier, and at the same time the most learned ofhis countrymen. He was born[877] at Reate (Rieti,) a Sabine townsituated in the Tempe of Italy, in the neighbourhood of the celebratedcascade of Terni. Ælius Stilo, the antiquarian, was the instructor ofhis earlier years,[878] and from him he derived his thirst forknowledge, and his ardent devotion to original investigation. Hesubsequently studied philosophy under Antiochus, a professor of theAcademic school.[879] In politics he was warmly attached to the party ofPompey, under whom he served in the Piratic and Mithridatic wars. He wasalso one of his three _Legati_ in Spain, and did not resign his commanduntil the towns in the south of that province eagerly submitted toCæsar. After the battle of Pharsalia, he experienced the clemency of theconqueror, but not soon enough to save his villa from being attacked andplundered.[880]

Cæsar appreciated Varro’s extensive learning and intrusted to him theformation of the great public library.[881] Henceforth he shunned theperils of political life,[882] and in the retirement of his villasdevoted himself zealously to the pursuit of literature. Nevertheless hecould not escape the unrelenting persecution of political party; for inthat proscription to which Cicero fell a victim, his name was in thelist until it was erased by Antony.[883] Although he was seventy yearsold, his industry was unabated, and he continued his literary laboursuntil his death, which took place in the eighty-ninth year of hisage.[884] Varro was a man of ponderous erudition and unweariedindustry,[885] without a spark of taste and genius. No Roman authorwrote so much as he did, no one read so much except Pliny; yet,notwithstanding all this practice and study, he never acquired anagreeable style. He dissected and anatomized the Latin language with allthe powers of critical analysis; but he was never imbued with itselegant polish or its nervous eloquence.

Wherever, as in the case of his treatise on agriculture, he had accessto sound information and good authority, his habits of arrangement, theclearness with which he classified, and the careful judgment with whichhe adduced his facts, render his works valuable. Few men have possessedgreater powers of combining and systematizing: his mind was, as it were,full of compartments, in which each species of knowledge had its properplace, but it was nothing more. Whenever he left the beaten track ofother men’s discoveries, and indulged in free conjecture or originalthought, as in his grammatical works, his learning seems to desert him;and etymology, which has tempted so many mere conjecturers to go astray,led him also into absurdity.

One of his works, _Antiquitates Divinarum Rerum_, acquires a peculiarinterest from the fact of its having been the storehouse from which St.Augustine, who was a great admirer of his learning, derived much of histreatise _De Civitate Dei_. How this laborious compilation was lost itis impossible to say. We can only lament the accident which deprives usof the work to which especially the author owes his reputation. In thetreatise, which together with this forms one work, namely, _AntiquitatesRerum Humanarum_, he investigated the early history and chronology ofRome,[886] and fixed the date of the building of the city in the yearB. C. 753, a date which is now commonly received by the besthistorians.[887]

A catalogue of his numerous books and tracts on almost every subjectwhich then engaged the attention of literary men—on history, biography,geography, philosophy, criticism, and morals—would be uninteresting, buthis principal works were as follows:—

 I. _De Re Rustica, Libri_ III.

 II. _De Lingua Latina, Libri_ XXIV., of which only six are extant, and these in a mutilated condition.

 III. _Antiquitates Rerum Humanarum, Libri_ XXV. _Antiquitates Rerum Divinarum, Libri_ XVI.

 IV. _Saturæ_, partly in prose, partly in verse; consisting of moral essays and dialogues, exposing the vices and follies of the day, and teaching their lessons rather in a light and amusing than a didactic form.

 V. Poems, of which eighteen short epigrams of no great merit are extant.

 CHAPTER XI. ROMAN HISTORICAL LITERATURE—PRINCIPAL

HISTORIANS—LUCCEIUS—LUCULLUS—CORNELIUS NEPOS—OPINIONS OF THE GENUINENESS

 OF THE WORKS WHICH BEAR HIS NAME—BIOGRAPHY OF J. CÆSAR—HIS COMMENTARIES—THEIR STYLE AND LANGUAGE—HIS MODESTY OVERRATED—OTHER WORKS—CHARACTER OF CÆSAR.

 HISTORICAL WRITERS.

In historical composition alone can the Romans lay claim to originality;and in their historical literature especially is exhibited a faithfultranscript of their mind and character. History at once gratified theirpatriotism, and its investigations were in accordance with their love ofthe real and practical. Thus those natural powers which had beenelicited and cultivated by an acquaintance with Greek literature wereapplied with a naïve simplicity to the narration of events, andembellished them with all the graces of a refined style. The practicalgood sense and political wisdom which the Roman social system wasadmirably adapted to nurture found food for reflection: their shrewdinsight into character, and their searching scrutiny into the humanheart gave them a power over their materials; and hence they wereenabled in this department of literature to emulate, not merely imitate,the Greeks, and to be their rivals, and sometimes their superiors. Theelegant simplicity of Cæsar is as attractive as that of Herodotus; notone of the Greek historians surpasses Livy in talent for thepicturesque, and in the charm with which he invests his spirited andliving stories; whilst for condensation of thought, terseness ofexpression, and political and philosophical acumen, Tacitus is notinferior to Thucydides.

The subjects which historical investigation furnished were so peculiarlynational, so congenial to the character of the mind of the Romans, thatthey seem to have cast aside their Greek originals, and to have struckout an independent line for themselves.

The catalogue of Roman historians is a proud one. At the head of itstand the four great names of Cæsar, Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus; all ofwhom, except the last, belong to the Augustan age. It comprehends thoseof Cornelius Nepos, Trogus Pompeius, Cremutius Cordus, Aufidius Bassus,and Sallust, in the golden age; Velleius Paterculus, Valerius Maximus,Q. Curtius, Suetonius, and Florus, in the succeeding one; nor must L.Lucceius and L. Licinius Lucullus be passed over without mention.

 L. LUCCEIUS.

L. Lucceius, the friend and correspondent of Cicero,[888] was an oratorwho espoused the party of J. Cæsar, and relying on his influence,became, together with him, a candidate for the consulship.[889] Beingunsuccessful, he quitted politics for the calm enjoyment of a literarylife. His right to be called an historian is founded on his havingcommenced a history of the Social and Civil Wars, but it was nevercompleted or published. Cicero[890] entreats him to speak of the eventswhich he was recording, as well as of his own character and conduct,with partiality; it is, therefore, impossible to trust the encomiumswhich accompany this request, as they were probably dictated by a wishto purchase his favourable opinion. The period of his retirement frompublic affairs was not of long duration, for he afterwards again engagedin the civil strife which agitated Rome, and joined the party of Pompey,who held him in high estimation.[891] On his downfall he shared withother Pompeians the clemency of the dictator.

 L. LICINIUS LUCULLUS.

L. Licinius Lucullus,[892] the illustrious but luxurious conqueror ofMithridates, did not disdain to devote his leisure to the composition ofhistory, although his works are not of such merit as to claim for him adistinguished position among the historians of his country. The stirringevents of the Social War tempted him to record them.[893] Part of hisenormous wealth he had expended on a magnificent library: to the poetArchias he was a kind friend;[894] and his patronage was liberallygranted to literary men, especially to those philosophers who held thedoctrines of his favourite Academy. Like most of those who combined witha love of literature a life of activity in the public service of hiscountry, he was an orator of no mean abilities.[895] His love of Greek,and his habits of intercourse with Greek philosophers, led him to writehis history in the Greek language, and to select and transcribe extractsfrom the histories of Cælius Antipater and Polybius.

 CORNELIUS NEPOS.

Cornelius Nepos was a contemporary of Catullus, and lived until thesixth year of the reign of Augustus.[896] Ausonius says that he was aGaul,[897] Catullus that he was an Italian.[898] Both are probablyright, as the prevailing opinion is, that he was born either at Verona,or the neighbouring village of Hostilia in Cisalpine Gaul. BesidesCatullus, he reckoned Cicero[899] and Atticus amongst the number of hisfriends.[900] These circumstances constitute all that is knownrespecting his personal history.

All his works which are mentioned by the ancients are unfortunatelylost; but respecting the genuineness of that with which every scholar isfamiliar from his childhood, strong doubts have been entertained. Hislost works were, (1.) Three books of Chronicles, or a short abridgmentof Universal History. They are mentioned by A. Gellius,[901] andallusion is made to them by Catullus.[902] (2.) Five books of anecdotesstyled “Libri Exemplorum,”[903] and also entitled “The Book of C. Nepos_de Viris illustribus_.” (3.) A Life of Cicero,[904] and a collection ofLetters addressed to him.[905] (4.) “De Historicis,” or Memoirs ofHistorians.[906] The work now extant which bears his name is entitled“The Lives of Eminent Generals.” But besides the biographies of twentygenerals, it contains short accounts of some celebrated monarchs, livesof Hamilcar and Hannibal, and also of Cato and Atticus. The Proëmium ofthe book is addressed to one Atticus, and to the first edition wasprefixed a dedication to the Emperor Theodosius, from which it appearedthat the author’s name was Probus. These biographical sketches continuedto be ascribed to this unknown author until the latter half of thesixteenth century.

At that time the celebrated scholar Lambinus, Regius Professor of BellesLettres at Paris, argued from the purity of the style that it was a workof classical antiquity, and, from a passage in the life of Cato, thatthe Atticus, to whom it was dedicated, was the well-known correspondentof Cicero, and the author no other than Cornelius Nepos. The argumentderived from the Latinity is unanswerable; that, however, from the lifeof Cato is a “_petitio principii_,” inasmuch as there is no moreevidence in favour of the life of Cato having been written by Nepos,than the other biographies. The life of Atticus, which is a completemodel of biographical composition, is ascribed to him by name in some ofthe best MSS. Of the rest nothing more can be affirmed with certainty,than that they are a work, or the epitome of a work, belonging to theAugustan age.

The strongest evidence which exists in favour of the authorship of C.Nepos, is that Jerome Magius, a contemporary of Lambinus, who alsopublished an annotated edition of the “_Vitæ Illustrium Imperatorum_,”found a MS. with the following conclusion: “Completum est opus ÆmiliiProbi Cornelii Nepotis.” These words would seem to assert the authorshipof Nepos, and at the same time to admit that Probus was the editor orepitomator, and thus support the theory of Lambinus, without accusingProbus of a literary forgery.

 C. JULIUS CÆSAR (BORN B. C. 100.)

To give a biographical account of Cæsar would be, in fact, nothing lessthan to trace the contemporary history of Rome; for Roman history hadnow become the history of those master-minds who seized upon, or wereinvested by their countrymen with, supreme power. Although the rapid andenergetic talents of Cæsar never permitted him to lose a day, his activedevotion to the truly Roman employments of politics and war, left himlittle time for sedentary occupations. His literary biography,therefore, will necessarily occupy but a short space, compared with theother great events of his career.

C. Julius Cæsar was descended from a family of the Julian _gens_, one ofthe oldest among the patrician families of Rome, of which all but a veryfew had by this time become extinct. The Cæsar family was not only ofpatrician descent, but numbered amongst its members, during the centurywhich preceded the birth of the Dictator, many who had served curuleoffices with great distinction. He was born on the 4th of the ides ofJuly (the 12th,) B. C. 100, and attached himself, both by politics andby matrimonial connexion to the popular party: his good taste, greattact, and pleasing manners, contributed, together with his talents, toinsure his popularity. He became a soldier in the nineteenth year of hisage; and hence his works display all the best qualities which arefostered by a military education, and which therefore characterize themilitary profession—frankness, simplicity, and brevity. He served hisfirst campaign at the conclusion of the first Mithridatic war, duringwhich he was present at the siege and capture of Mitylene,[907] andreceived the honour of a civic crown for saving the life of a citizen.

His earliest literary triumph was as an orator. Cn. Dolabella wassuspected of oppressive extortion in the administration of his provinceof Macedonia, and Cæsar came forward as his accuser. The celebratedHortensius was the advocate for the accused; and although Cæsar did notgain his cause, the skill and eloquence which he displayed as a pleadergave promise of his becoming hereafter a consummate orator. Thefollowing year he increased his reputation by taking up the cause of theprovince of Achaia against C. Antonius, who was accused of the samecrime as Dolabella; but he was again unsuccessful in the result.

He subsequently sailed for Rhodes, in order to pursue the study oforatory under the direction of Apollonius Molon,[908] who was not only ateacher of rhetoric, but also an able and eloquent pleader in the courtsof law. Cicero[909] bears testimony to his being a skilful instructorand an eloquent speaker, and received instruction from him when he cameto Rome as an ambassador from Rhodes.[910] Cæsar, on his voyage, wascaptured by pirates; but after he was ransomed, he carried his intentioninto effect, and placed himself for a short time under the tuition ofMolon. After his return to Rome,[911] a proposition was made to recallfrom exile those of the party of Lepidus, who had joined Sertorius, andhe spoke in favour of the measure. Two years subsequently he deliveredfuneral orations in praise of his wife Cornelia, who was the daughter ofCinna, and his aunt Julia, the widow of Marius.

The Catilinarian conspiracy, in which, without reason, he was suspectedof having been concerned, furnished him with another opportunity ofdisplaying his ability as an orator. His speech in the senate on thecelebrated nones of December, would probably have saved the lives of theconspirators, had not Cato’s influence prevailed. Cæsar pleaded that itwas unconstitutional to put Roman citizens to death by the vote of thesenate, without a trial; but his arguments were overruled, and themeasure which subsequently led to the fall and assassination of Cicerowas carried. The following year,[912] when Metellus made this a subjectof accusation against Cicero, Cæsar again supported the same view withhis eloquence, but was unsuccessful.

Great, therefore, although it is said that his talents as an oratorwere, he never appears to have convinced his hearers. This may have beenowing, not to deficiency in skill, but to the unfortunate nature of thecauses which he took in hand, or to the superior powers of hisopponents, for there is no doubt that his manner of speaking was mostengaging and popular. Tacitus speaks of him not only as the greatest ofauthors,[913] but also as rivalling the most accomplished orators;[914]whilst Suetonius praises his eloquence, and quotes the testimony ofCicero himself in support of his favourable criticism.[915]

Hitherto, with the exception of his first campaign, the life of Cæsarwas of a civil complexion. His literary eminence took the colouring ofthe public occupations in which he was engaged. Like a true Roman,literature was subordinate to public duty, and his taste was directedinto the channel which was most akin to, and identified with, his life.His intellectual vigour, however, demanded employment as well as hispractical talents for business; and for this reason, as has been seen,he devoted himself to the study of oratory; and the principal workswhich as yet obtain for him a place in a history of Roman literature aremerely orations.

His next official appointment opened to him a new field for thought. InB. C. 63 he obtained the office of Pontifex Maximus, and examined sodiligently into the history and nature of the Roman belief in augury, ofwhich he was the official guardian, that his investigations werepublished in a work consisting of at least sixteen books (_LibriAuspiciorum_.[916]) In order to fit himself for discharging the dutiesof his office he studied astronomy, and even wrote a treatise on thatscience,[917] entitled “_de Astris_”, and a poem somewhat resembling thePhenomena of Aratus. His knowledge of this science enabled him, with theaid of the Alexandrian astronomers, to carry into effect some years[918]afterwards the reformation of the calendar.

The works above mentioned are philosophically and scientificallyvalueless, but curious and interesting; but we have now to view Cæsar inthat capacity which was the foundation of his literary reputation. Heobtained the province of Hispania Ulterior;[919] and at this post hiscareer as a military commander began. As had been the case during hisprevious career, so now the almost incessant demands on his thoughts andtime did not divert him from literary pursuits, but determined thechannel in which his tastes should seek satisfaction, and furnished thesubject for his pen. He had evidently an ardent love for literature forits own sake. It was not the paltry ambition of showing that he couldachieve success, and, even superiority, in every thing which he chose toundertake, although his versatility of talent was such as to encouragehim to expect success, but a real attachment to literary employment.Hence whatever leisure his duties as a military commander permitted himto enjoy was devoted, as to a labour of love, to the composition of hisMemoirs or Commentaries of the Gallic and Civil Wars.

His comprehensive and liberal mind was also convinced of theembarrassing technicalities which impeded the administration of theRoman law. Its interpretation was confined to a few who had studied itspedantic mysteries; and the laws which regulated the _dies fasti_ and_nefasti_ had originally placed its administration in the hands of thepriests and patricians. Appius Claudius had already commenced the workof demolishing the fences which to the people at large were impregnable;and Cæsar entertained the grand design of reducing its principles andpractice to a regular code.[920] His views he imbodied in atreatise,[921] which, as is often the case with pamphlets, perished whenthe object ceased to exist for which it was intended.

It is said that he also contemplated a complete survey and map of theRoman empire.[922] But his greatest benefaction, perhaps, to the causeof Roman literature was the establishment of a public library.[923] Thespoils of Italy, collected by Asinius Pollio, furnished the materials,just as the museums of Paris were enriched by the great modern conquerorfrom the plunder of Europe; but it was, nevertheless, a great andpatriotic work; and he enhanced its utility by intrusting the collectionand arrangement of it to the learned Varro as librarian.

Besides the works already named, Cæsar left behind him various letters,some of which are extant amongst those of Cicero; orations, of which, ifthe panegyrics of Cicero, Tacitus, and Quintilian[924] are notexaggerated, it is deeply to be regretted that the titles are alonepreserved;[925] a short treatise or pamphlet, called _Anticato_; a workon the analogy of the Latin language; a collection of apothegms; and afew poems.

These are the grounds on which the claims of the great conqueror toliterary fame rest in the various capacities of orator, historian,antiquarian, philosopher, grammarian, and poet; but by far the mostimportant of his works is his “Commentaries.” These have fortunatelycome down to us in a tolerably perfect state, although much stillremains to be done before we can be said to possess an accurateedition.[926] Seven books contain the history of seven years of theGallic war, and three carry the history of the civil war down to thecommencement of the Alexandrine. These are the works of Cæsar himself.The eighth book, “_De Bello Gallico_,” which completes the subject, andthe three supplemental books of the work, “_De Bello Civili_,” whichcontain the Alexandrine, African, and Spanish wars, have been variouslyascribed to the friends of Cæsar, A. Hirtius, C. Oppius, and even toPansa. The claims of the latter, however, are entirely groundless. Themarked similarity between the style of the eighth book of the Gallic warand that of the Alexandrine war proves that they were written by thesame author; and from the elegance and purity of the Latinity, and theconfidential footing on which the author must have been with Cæsar,there is a probability, almost amounting to a certainty, that theHistory of the Alexandrine War must be the work of A. Hirtius. It mayalso be remarked that this opinion is in unison with that ofSuetonius.[927]

Hirtius was the only one of the three who united in himself both theseimportant qualifications. C. Oppius was indeed equally in the confidenceof Cæsar; he was his inseparable companion.[928] But, nevertheless,Oppius was not so highly educated as Hirtius. Niebuhr, therefore, isprobably correct in attributing to him, “without hesitation,”[929] thebook on the African war. The intelligence and information displayed init are worthy of the sensible soldier and confidential friend, with whomhe corresponded in cipher, and whom he intrusted with writing theintroduction to his defence in the “Anticato;” whilst the inferiority ofthe language marks a less skilful and practised hand than that of therefined Hirtius. The book on the Spanish war is by some unknown author:it is founded on a diary kept by some one engaged in the war; butneither its language nor sentiments are those of a liberally educatedperson.[930] The Greek term “Ephemerides” has sometimes been applied tothe “Commentaries,” though Bayle[931] thought that they were differentworks.

These memoirs are exactly what they profess to be, and are written inthe most appropriate style. Few would wish it to be other than it is.They are sketches taken on the spot, in the midst of action, whilst themind was full: they have all the graphic power of a master-mind, and thevigorous touches of a master-hand. Take, for example, the delineation ofthe Gallic character, and compare it with some of the features still tobe found in the mixed race, their successors, and no one can doubt ofits accuracy, or of the deep and penetrating insight into human naturewhich generally indicates the powerful and practical intellect. Theirelegance and polish is that which always mark even the least-labouredefforts of a refined and educated taste, not that which proceeds fromcareful emendation and correction. The “Commentaries” are the materialsfor history; notes jotted down for future historians. It is evident thatno more time was spent upon them than would naturally be devoted to sucha work by one who was employing the inaction of winter quarters indigesting the recollections stored up during the business of thecampaign; and for this reason few faults have been found with the“Commentaries,” even by the most fastidious critics. The very faultswhich may be justly found with the style of Cæsar are such as reflectthe man himself. The majesty of his character principally consists inthe imperturbable calmness and equability of his temper. He had nosudden bursts of energy, and alternations of passion and inactivity: theelevation of his character was a high one, but it was a leveltable-land. This calmness and equability pervades his writings, and forthis reason they have been thought to want life and energy; whereas inreality they are only deficient in contrast, and light and shade. Theuniformity of his active character is interesting as one great elementof his success; but the uniformity of style may perhaps be thought bysome readers to diminish the interest with which his work is read.

The simple beauty of his language is, as Cicero says, statuesque ratherthan picturesque. Simple, severe, naked—“omni ornatu orationis tanquamveste detracto;” and whilst, like a statue, it conveys the idea ofperfect and well-proportioned beauty, it banishes all thoughts of humanpassion. It was this perfect calm propriety, perhaps this absence of allornamental display, which prevented him from being a successful orator,and his orations from surviving, although he had every externalqualification for a speaker[932]—a fine voice, graceful action, a nobleand majestic appearance, and a frank and brilliant delivery.

The very few instances of doubtful Latinity which a hypercritical spiritmay detect are scarcely blemishes, and fewer than might have beenexpected from the observation of Hirtius,[933] “Ceteri quam bene atqueemendate, nos etiam, quam facile ac celeriter eos perscripserit,scimus.” When A. Pollio[934] called his “Commentaries” hasty, hiscriticism was fair; but he was scarcely just in blaming the writer forinaccuracy and credulity. These faults, so far as they existed, were dueto circumstances, not to himself. His observing mind wished to collectinformation with respect to the foreign lands which were the field ofhis exploits, and the habits of the inhabitants, quite as much as todescribe his own tactics and victories. He naturally accepted theaccounts given him, even when he had no means of testing their veracity.He is, therefore, not to blame for recording those which subsequentdiscoveries have shown to be untrue.

His digressions of this character yield in interest to no portion of hiswork; and though some of his accounts of the Gauls and Germans areincorrect, many were subsequently confirmed by the investigations ofTacitus. The only quality in the character of Cæsar which has beensometimes exaggerated is modesty. He does not, indeed, add to his ownreputation by detracting from the merits of those who served under him.He is honest, generous, and candid, not only towards them, but alsotowards his brave barbarian enemies. Nor is he guilty of egotism in thestrict literal sense of the term. This, however, is scarcely enough towarrant the eulogy which some have founded upon it. He has too goodtaste to recount his successes with pretension and arrogance; but he hasevidently no objection to be the hero of his own tale. He skilfullyveils his selfish, unpatriotic, and ambitious motives; and his objectevidently is to leave such memoirs, that future historians may be ableto hand down the most favourable character of Cæsar to posterity.

Though himself is his subject, his memoirs are not confessions. Not arecord of a weakness appears, nor even of a defect, except that whichthe Romans would readily forgive, cruelty. His savage waste of humanlife he recounts with perfect self-complacency. Vanity was his crowningerror in his career as a statesman; and though hidden by the reservewith which he speaks of himself, it sometimes discovers itself in thehistorian.

The “Commentaries” of Cæsar have sometimes been compared with the workof the great soldier historian of Greece, Xenophon. Both are eminentlysimple and unaffected; but there the parallel ends. The severe contemptof ornament which characterizes the stern Roman is totally unlike themellifluous sweetness of the Attic writer.

The “Anticatones”[935] were two books in answer to Cicero’s panegyric ofCato, which he had written immediately after the philosopher’s death.Hirtius first, at the request of Cæsar, wrote a reply, and sent it toCicero from Narbonne. Although he denied the justice of Cicero’seulogium, he secured the good-will of the orator himself by liberalcommendations.[936] This prepared the way for Cæsar’s own pamphlet.

His philological work, _de Analogia_, or _de Ratione Latine Loquendi_,is commended by Cicero[937] for its extreme accuracy, and was held inhigh estimation by the Roman grammarians. Probably, in liveliness andoriginality, it was far superior to any of their works. Wonderful tosay, it was written during the difficulties and occupations of a journeyacross the Alps. From the quotations from it, in the writings of thegrammarians, we learn that he proposed that the letter V should bewritten Ⅎ, to mark its connexion with the Greek digamma; and that thenew orthography, which substituted _lacrimæ_ for _lucrumæ_, _maximus_for _maxumus_, &c., was established by his authority.

The “_Apophthegmata_” is said to have been a collection of wise andwitty sayings by himself and others, although it is remarkable not asingle witty saying of Cæsar is on record.[938] He began it early inlife, and was continually making additions to it.

His poetical attempts consisted of a tragedy entitled “Œdipus;” a shortpiece, the subject of which was the praises of Hercules (both of these,as well as the Apophthegmata, were suppressed by Augustus;[939]) “Iter,”an account of his march into Spain; the astronomical poem alreadymentioned; and some epigrams, of which three are extant, although theirauthenticity is somewhat doubtful.[940]

The character of Cæsar is full of inconsistencies; but they are theinconsistencies which are natural to man, and are sometimes found in menof a strong will and commanding talents who are destitute of moralprinciple. His faults and excellences, his capability and talents, werethe result of his natural powers—not of pains or study. He was one ofthe greatest as well as one of the worst men who ever lived. He was anEpicurean in faith, and yet he had all the superstition which so oftenaccompanies infidelity. His habitual humanity and clemency towards hisfellow-citizens were interrupted by instances of stern and pitilesscruelty. He shed tears at the assassination of Pompey, and yet couldmassacre the Usipetes and the Tenchteri, and acted like a savagebarbarian towards his chivalrous foe Vercingetorix. He delighted in thepure and refined pleasures of literature, and his intimate associateswere men of taste and genius; and yet he was the slave of his sensualpassions, and indulged in the grossest profligacy. He was candid,friendly, confiding, generous; but he was attracted by brillianttalents, and the qualities of the head, rather than the affections ofthe heart. The mainspring of his conduct as a general and a statesmanexhibits a strong will and perfect self-reliance; and in like manner heowes the energy of his style of writing, and the persuasive force of hisoratory, to the influence of no other minds: they are the natural fruitof clear perceptions, a penetrating intellect, an observing mind capableof taking a wide and comprehensive view of its subject. Men of variedacquirements and extensive knowledge, but of pedantic taste, are said totalk like books; the writings of Cæsar, on the contrary, are like livelyand unconstrained conversation: they have all the reality whichconstitutes the great charm of his character.

He was above affectation, for his was a mind born to lead the age inwhich he lived, not to think with others merely in deference toestablished usage and custom; and although his natural vanity andself-confidence led him to set his own character in the most favourablelight, his vanity was honest: he had no intention wilfully to deceive.His wonderful memory fitted him for the task of faithfully recording theevents in which he himself was an actor; and his power of attention andabstraction, which enabled him to write, converse, and dictate at thesame time, shows how valuable must be a work on which were concentratedat once all the energies of his penetrating mind.

 CHAPTER XII. LIFE OF SALLUST—HIS INSINCERITY—HIS HISTORICAL WORKS—HE WAS A BITTER OPPONENT OF THE NEW ARISTOCRACY—PROFLIGACY OF THAT ORDER—HIS STYLE COMPARED WITH THAT OF THUCYDIDES—HIS VALUE AS AN HISTORIAN—TROGUS POMPEIUS—HIS HISTORIÆ PHILIPPICÆ.

 C. SALLUSTIUS CRISPUS (BORN B. C. 85.)

C. Sallustius Crispus was fifteen years junior to Cæsar: he was born atAmiternum[941] in the territory of the Sabines, A. U. C. 669, B. C. 85.He was a member of a plebeian family; but, having served the offices oftribune and quæstor, attained senatorial rank. In A. U. C. 704, he wasexpelled from the senate[942] by the censors Ap. Claudius Pulcher and L.Calpurnius Piso.[943] It is said that, although he was “a most severecensurer of the licentiousness of others,”[944] he was a profligate manhimself, and that the scandal of an intrigue with Fausta, the daughterof Sulla and the wife of Milo, was the cause of his degradation.

Through the influence of Cæsar, whose party he espoused, he was restoredto his rank, and subsequently became prætor. He accompanied his patronin the African war, and was made governor of Numidia. Whilst in thatcapacity, he accumulated by rapacity and extortion enormous wealth,[945]which he lavished on expensive but tasteful luxury. The gardens on theQuirinal which bore his name were celebrated for their beauty; andbeneath their alleys, and porticoes, surrounded by the choicest works ofart, he avoided the tumultuous scenes of civil strife which ushered inthe empire, and devoted his retirement to composing the historicalrecords which survived him. His death took place B. C. 35.

Those who have wished to defend the character of Sallust from thecharges of immorality, to which allusion has been made, have attributedthem to the groundless calumnies of Lenæus, a freedman of Cæsar’s greatrival Pompey. It is not improbable that his faults may have beenexaggerated by the malevolence of party-spirit in those factious times;but there are no sentiments in his works which can constitute a defenceof him. If an historian is distinguished by a high moral tone offeeling, this quality cannot but show itself in his writings withoutintention or design. But in Sallust there is always an affectation andpretence of morality without the reality. His philosophical reflectionsat the commencement of the Jugurthine and Catilinarian wars are empty,cold, and heartless. There is a display of commonplace sentiment, and anexpressed admiration of the old Roman virtue of bygone days, but noappearance of sincerity. The language may be pointed enough to producean effect upon the ear, but the sentiments always fail to probe therecesses of the heart. Sallust lived in an immoral and corrupt age; andthough, perhaps, he was not amongst the worst of his contemporaries, hehad not sufficient strength of principle to resist the force of exampleand temptation.

It is almost certain that, as a provincial governor, Sallust was notmore unscrupulous than others of his class; but wealth such as hepossessed could not have been acquired except by extortion andmaladministration. As a politician, he was equally unsatisfactory: hewas a mere partisan of Cæsar, and therefore, a strenuous opponent of thehigher classes as supporters of Pompey; but he was not an honestchampion of popular rights, nor was he capable of understanding themeaning of patriotism. If, however, we make some allowance for thepolitical bias of Sallust, which is evident throughout his works, hishistories have not only the charms of the historical romance, but arealso valuable political studies. His characters are vigorously andnaturally drawn, as though he not only personally knew them, butaccurately understood them. The more his histories are read the morewill it be discovered that he always writes with an object. He eschewsthe very idea of a mere dry chronicle of facts, and uses his facts asthe means of enforcing a great political lesson.

For this reason, like Thucydides, whom he evidently took as his model,not only in style but in the use of his materials, his speeches are hisown compositions. Even when he had an opportunity, as in the case ofCæsar’s and Cato’s speeches in the “_Bellum Catilinarium_,” he contentedhimself with giving the substance of them, clothed it in his ownlanguage, and imbodied in them his own sentiments. According to his ownstatement, there is one exception to his practice in this respect. Heasserts that the speech of Memmius, the tribune of the people,[946] isthe very one which he delivered. If this be really the case, it is amost valuable example of the style in which a popular leader addressedhis audience. But it is to be feared that this is not strictly andliterally true: the style is indeed somewhat different from that of theother speeches, but does not exhibit freedom enough to assure us that hehas actually reported it as delivered. It may be only a specimen of thatconsummate skill which constitutes the principal charm of Sallust’smanner, and made him a complete master of composition. Sallust neverattempted anything more than detached portions of Roman history. “I havedetermined,” he says, “to write only select portions of Roman history,”(carptim perscribere.[947]) He himself gives an explanation of hismotives for so doing,[948] when he complains of the manner in which thisdepartment of literature was neglected. Wherever a satisfactory accountexisted, he thought it unnecessary to travel over the same ground asecond time.

His first work, reckoning according to the chronological order ofevents, is the Jugurthine war, which commenced B. C. 111, and endedB. C. 106. The next period, comprehending the social war and the war ofSulla, extending as far as the consulship of M. Æmilius Lepidus, B. C.78, had already been related by Sisenna, a friend of Cicero.[949] WhereSisenna left off, the Histories of Sallust (Historiarum Libri V.) began,and continued the narrative without interruption until the prætorship ofCicero.[950] This work is unfortunately lost, with the exception of someletters and speeches, and a few fragments relating to the war ofSpartacus. Niebuhr[951] considers this one of the most deplorable lossesin Roman literature; less, however, on account of its historicalimportance, than as a perfect model of historical composition. A breakof two years ensues, and then follows the “_Bellum Catilinarium_,” orhistory of the Catilinarian conspiracy in the year of Cicero’sconsulship.[952]

This completes the list of those works which are undoubtedly genuine. Nosatisfactory opinion has been arrived at respecting the authorship ofthe two letters to Cæsar, “_De Republicâ Ordinandâ_;” and it is nowunhesitatingly admitted, that the declamation against Cicero, must havebeen, as well as its counterpart, the declamation against Sallust, thework of some rhetorical writer of a later period. The subject of thisimaginary disputation was naturally suggested by the known fact thatSallust was no friend to Cicero.

It has already been stated that Sallust was a bitter opponent of theprinciples and policy of the aristocratic party; but it must becarefully explained what is meant by that assertion. The object of hishatred was not the old patrician blood of Rome, but the new aristocracy,which had of late years been rapidly rising up and displacing it.

This new nobility was utterly corrupt; and their corruption wasencouraged by the venality of the masses, whose poverty and destitutiontempted them to be the tools of unscrupulous ambition. Everything atRome, as Juvenal said in later times, had its price. Sallust adds to theseverity of his strictures upon his countrymen by the force of contrast;he represents even Jugurtha as asserting that the republic itself mightbe bought, if a purchaser could be found; and paints the barbarian asmore honest and upright than his conquerors. The ruined and abandonedassociates of Catiline represented a numerous class among the youngermembers of the upper classes, who, by lives devoted to lawlesspleasures, had become ruined, reckless, and demoralized. They were ripefor revolution, because they had nothing to lose: they could not gratifytheir vicious propensities without wealth; they had no principles orscruples as to the means of acquiring it; their best prospects were inanarchy, proscription, and confiscation. The debauched and ruinednobleman, and the vulgar profligate of the lowest class, forgot theirmutual differences, and thus a combination was formed, the members ofwhich were the sink and outscourings of society.

Such degenerate profligacy is an ample justification of Sallust’s hatredtowards the new aristocracy; and the object of all his works evidentlywas to place that party in the unfavourable light which it deserved. Inthe Jugurthine war he describes the unworthiness of the foreign policyof Rome under its maladministration. His “Histories,” according to thestatement of Niebuhr, describe the popular resistance to therevolutionary policy of Sulla, the profligate leader of the same party;and in the “Catilinarian war” he paints in vivid colours the depravityof that order of society, who, bankrupt in fortune and dead to allhonourable feelings, still plumed themselves on their rank andexclusiveness. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the truthfulness of thepicture which Sallust draws, selfishness and not patriotism was themainspring of his politics; and it is scarcely possible to avoid seeingthat he is anxious to set himself off to the best advantage. Hishollowness is that of a vain and conceited man, who measures himself bytoo high a standard, and appears chagrined and disappointed that othersdo not estimate him as highly as he does himself.

These are the blots in his character as a man and a citizen; but we mustnot forget his real merits as an historian. To him must be conceded thepraise of having first conceived the notion of a history in the truesense of the term. He saw the lamentable defects in the abortiveattempts made by his predecessors;[953] and the model was a good onewhich he left for his successors to follow. It is scarcely too much tosuppose, that if it had not been for Sallust, Livy might not have beenled to conceive his vast and comprehensive plan. He was the first Romanhistorian, and the guide to future historians. Again, his style,although almost ostentatiously elaborate and artificial, and not withoutaffectation, is, upon the whole, pleasing, and almost alwaystransparently clear. The caution of Quintilian respecting his well-knownbrevity (“vitanda est illa Sallustiana brevitas”[954]) is well-timed inhis work, as being addressed to orators, for public speaking necessarilyrequires a more diffuse style; and it is probable that Quintilian wouldnot appreciate its merits, because he himself was a rhetorician, and histaste was formed in a rhetorical age. Seneca, for the same reasons,finds similar faults, not only with Sallust, but with the favouriteliterature of his day. “When Sallust flourished, abrupt sentences,unexpected cadences, obscure expressions, were considered signs of acultivated taste.”[955] But the brevity of Sallust does not produce theeffect of harsh or disagreeable abruptness, whilst it keeps theattention awake, and impresses the facts upon the memory. How powerfuland suggestive, for example, how abundant in material for thought, arethose few words in which he describes Pompey as “oris probi, animoinverecundo!” There is, however, this difference between the brevity ofSallust and that of his supposed model, Thucydides. That of the Greekhistorian was natural and involuntary; that of the Roman intentional andthe result of imitation. Thucydides thought more quickly than he couldwrite: his closely-packed ideas and condensed constructions, therefore,constitute a species of shorthand, by which alone he could keep pacewith the rapidity of his intellect. He is, therefore, always vigorousand suggestive; and the necessities of the case make the reader readilypardon the difficulties of his style.

The brevity of Thucydides is the result of condensation; that of Sallustis elliptical expression. He gives a hint and the reader must supply therest; whilst Thucydides only expects his readers to unfold and developideas which already existed in a concentrated form. Sallust requiresaddition; Thucydides dilution and expansion. Neither does the brevity ofSallust resemble that of Cæsar or of Tacitus: the former wasstraight-forward and business-like, requiring neither addition norexpansion, because he wished to make his statements as clear as theywere capable of being expressed, without ornament or exaggeration. Hewas brief, because he never wished to say more than was absolutelynecessary, and therefore his brevity is the very cause of perspicuity.The mind of Tacitus was, from its thoughtfulness and philosophicalcharacter, the very counterpart of that of Thucydides: his brevity wastherefore natural and the result of the same causes.

There is one point of view in which Sallust is invaluable as anhistorian. He had always an object to which he wished all his facts toconverge: he brought forward his facts as illustrations and developmentsof principles. He analyzed and exposed the motives of parties, and thesecret springs which actuated the conduct of individuals, and laid barethe inner life of those great actors on the public stage, in theinteresting historical scenes which he undertakes to describe.

 TROGUS POMPEIUS.

Trogus Pompeius was a voluminous historian of the Augustan age, whosefather was private secretary to Julius Cæsar.[956] His work was of suchvast extent, and embraced so great a variety of subjects, that it haseven been termed by Justin, who published a large collection of extractsfrom it, _an Universal History_. Its title, however, “_HistoriæPhilippicæ_,” proves the writer’s primary object was the history of theMacedonian monarchy, together with the kingdoms which arose out of it atthe death of Alexander; and that all the rest of the informationcontained in it were digressions into which he was naturally led, andepisodes incidentally introduced into the main stream of the history.

For the materials contained in his work, which consisted of forty-fourbooks, he was indebted to the Greek historians, but especially toTheopompus of Chios,[957] from whose principal work he derived thetitle, “_Philippica_,” as well as the practice of branching out intolong and frequent digressions. It is easy to imagine over how vast anarea a history of the Macedonian empire was capable of extending. Thesubjugation of the East by the conquests of Alexander naturally made arapid sketch of the Assyrian, Median, and Persian empires, anappropriate introduction to the work: the connexion of Persia withGreece and Egypt furnished an opportunity of imbodying the records ofGreek history, and a description of Egypt and its inhabitants. Onceembarked in Greek history, the writer pursued it until it becameinterwoven, through the interference of Philip, with the affairs ofMacedon. Alexander and his successors succeed: the campaigns of Pyrrhusbring the Romans upon the stage; Carthage and Sicily for awhile occupythe scene; and the main body of the work is completed by a sketch of thegradual consolidation of that vast empire, of which subjugated Macedoniabecame a province. Nor is this all—other less important nations, states,and cities are ever and anon introduced, according as they act theirpart in the great drama of history.

 CHAPTER XIII. LIFE OF LIVY—HIS OBJECT IN WRITING HIS HISTORY—ITS SPIRIT ANDCHARACTER—LIVY PRECISELY SUITED TO HIS AGE—NOT WILFULLY INACCURATE—HIS

POLITICAL BIAS ACCOUNTED FOR—MATERIALS WHICH HE MIGHT HAVE USED—SOURCES

 OF HIS HISTORY—HIS DEFECTS AS AN HISTORIAN—HISSTYLE—GRAMMARIANS—VITRUVIUS POLLIO AN AUGUSTAN WRITER—CONTENTS OF HIS WORK.

 T. LIVIUS PATAVINUS (BORN B. C. 59.)

The biographical records of many great literary men of Rome are mostmeager and unsatisfactory. Modern critics who have written their liveshave drawn largely upon their own imaginations for their materials;whilst all the information to be derived from ancient writers is oftencomprised in a few vague allusions and notices. Some of these have beenmisunderstood, and from others unwarrantable deductions have beenderived. These observations are particularly applicable to him who isthe only illustrious Roman historian in the Augustan age.

Universal tradition assigns to Patavium (Padua) the honour of being thebirthplace of Titus Livius; but notwithstanding the general belief, somedoubt has been thrown upon the fact by an epigram of Martial.[958] Hecame to Rome during the reign of Augustus, where he resided in theenjoyment of the imperial favour and patronage.[959] He was a warm andopen admirer of the ancient institutions of the country, and esteemedPompey as one of its greatest heroes; but Augustus, with his usualliberality, did not allow political opinions to interfere with theregard which he entertained for the historian. Livy had a greatadmiration for oratory, and advised his son to study the writings ofDemosthenes and Cicero.[960] At his recommendation the stupid Claudiuswrote history;[961] and it has even been asserted, though oninsufficient authority, that he was his instructor. His fame rapidlyspread beyond the limits of Italy, for Pliny the younger[962] relatesthat an inhabitant of Cadiz came to Rome for the express purpose ofseeing him; a fact which St. Jerome[963] expands into an assertion thatmany noble Gauls and Spaniards were attracted to the capital, far moreby the reputation of Livy than by the splendour of the imperial city.

His great work is a history of Rome, which he modestly terms “Annals,”in one hundred and forty-two books, preceded by a brief butelaborately-written preface,[964] and extending from the earliesttraditions to the death of Drusus.[965] Of this history thirty-fivebooks are extant, which were discovered at different periods.[966] Ofthe rest we have only dry and meager epitomes, drawn up by someuncertain author, and of these two are lost.[967]

Besides his History, Livy is said[968] to have written books whichprofessed to be philosophical, and dialogues, the subjects of which arepartly philosophical, and partly historical. Late in life he returned toPatavium, and there died A. D. 18, in the seventy-seventh year of hisage.[969] He left one son, and one daughter who married L. Magius, ateacher of rhetoric, of no great talent, who owed his reputationprincipally to his connexion with the historian.[970] Livy had one greatobject in view in writing his History, namely, to celebrate the gloriesof his native country, to which he was devotedly attached. He was apatriot: his sympathy was with Pompey, called forth by thedisinterestedness of that great man, and perhaps by his sad end, afterhaving so long enjoyed universal popularity. The character of thehistorian would lead us to suppose that his attachment was personalrather than political, for the general spirit of his work shows that hewas a man of pure mind and gentle feelings. He began his great workabout nine or ten years before the Christian era, a period singularlyfavourable for such a design. The passages in which especially hedelights to put forth his powers, and on which he dwells with thegreatest zest, show the truth of Quintilian’s well-known criticism,“that he is especially the historian of the affections, particularly ofthe softer sensibilities.”[971] A lost battle is misery to him; hetrembles at the task of relating it. Nor does he appear to have been astern republican. He could admire enthusiastically, and describe withspirit, the noble qualities and self-devotion which the old republicanfreedom fostered; but his object is rather to paint the heroes, and togive graphic representations of the struggles which they maintained indefence of liberty, than to show any love of liberty in the abstract, ora predilection for any particular form of constitution. To Livypolitical struggles were no more than subjects for picturesquedelineations, the moral of which was the elevation of national grandeur,just as successful foreign wars were the records of national glory.Hence he is a biographer quite as much as an historian: he anatomizesthe moral nature of his heroes, and shows their inner man, and themotive springs of their noble exploits. This gives to his narratives thecharm of an historical romance, and makes up for the want of accurateresearch and political observation. His characters stand before usobjectively, like epic heroes; and thus he is “the Homer of the Romanpeople,” whilst the charm of his narratives makes him the “Herodotus ofRoman historians.”

Rome was now the mistress of the world: her struggles with foreignnations had been rewarded with universal dominion; so that when theRoman empire was spoken of, no title less comprehensive than “the world”(_orbis_) would satisfy the national vanity. The horrors of civil warhad ceased, and were succeeded by an amnesty of its bitter feuds andbloody animosities. Liberty indeed had perished, but the people were nolonger fit for the enjoyment of it; and it was exchanged for a mild andpaternal rule, under which all the refinements of civilization wereencouraged, and its subjects could enjoy undisturbed the blessings ofpeace and security.

Rome, therefore, had rest and breathing-time to look back into thepast—to trace the successive steps by which that marvellous edifice, theRoman empire, had been constructed. She could do this, too, with perfectself-complacency, for there was no symptom of decay to check herexultation, or to mar the glories which she was contemplating.

Livy, the good, the affectionate, the romantic, was precisely thepopular historian for such times as these. His countrymen lookednaturally for panegyric rather than for criticism. They were not in atemper to bear one who could remorselessly tear open and expose to viewall the faults and blemishes which blotted the pages of their history;who could be a morose and querulous praiser of times gone by, never toreturn, at the expense of their present greatness and prosperity. Helived in happy times, before Rome had learnt by sad experience what thetyranny of absolutism really was. He tells his story like a bard singinghis lay at a joyous and festive meeting, chequered by alternatesuccesses and reverses, prosperity and adversity, but all tending to ahappy end at last. These features of his character, and this object ofhis work, whilst they constitute his peculiar charm as a narrator,obviously render him less valuable as an historian. Although he was nottasteless and spiritless, like Dionysius, he was not so trustworthy. Hewould not be wilfully inaccurate, or otherwise than truth-telling; butif the legend he was about to tell was captivating and interesting, hewould not stop to inquire whether or not it was true. He would take upontrust the traditions which had been handed down from generation togeneration without inquiry; and the more flattering and popular theywere, the more suitable would he deem them for his purpose. Withoutbeing himself necessarily superstitious, he would see that superstitiousmarvels added to the embellishments of his story, and, therefore, wouldaccept them without pronouncing upon their truth or falsehood.

Wilful unfairness can never be attributed to Livy: he was prejudiced,but he was not party-spirited. He loved his country and his countrymen,and could scarcely persuade himself of the possibility of their doingwrong. He could scarcely believe anything derogatory to the nationalglory. When (to take a striking example,) in the case of the treaty withPorsena, there were two opposite stories, he was led by this partialityto ignore the well-authenticated fact of the capture of Rome, and toadopt that account which was most creditable to his countrymen.[972]Whenever Rome was false to treaties, unmerciful in victory, orunsuccessful in arms, he is always anxious to find excuses. Hispredilections are evidently aristocratic; and although he states thefacts fairly, he wishes his reader to sympathize with the patricians.

The plebeians of the days in which he lived were not the fairrepresentatives of that enterprising class in the early ages of therepublic, who were as well born as the patricians, although of differentblood; the strength and sinews of the state in its exhaustingwars—dependent only upon them from stern necessity, because they wereground down to the dust by poverty, and debt, and oppression, butindependently maintaining themselves by their own industry, graduallyacquiring wealth, rising to the position of a middle class, winningtheir way perseveringly, step by step, to political privileges.

The lower orders of Rome, in the time of Livy—for the term plebeian, inits original sense, was no longer applicable—were debased and degraded;they cared not for liberty or political power, or self-government; theirbosoms throbbed not with sympathy for the old plebeians, who retired toMount Sacer, and shed their blood for their principles. It wasdifficult, therefore, for him not to believe that the popular leaders ofold times were unprincipled men, who sought to repair their fortunes bythe arts of the demagogue. In his eyes resistance to tyranny was treasonand rebellion.[973] But when, as in the story of Virginia, his gentleraffections were enlisted, Livy’s heart warmed with a generous admirationtowards the champions of the people’s rights, and his politicalpredilections gave way to his sensibilities. In treating of historyalmost contemporaneous, Tacitus confesses his liberality. Although itmight have rendered him more acceptable at the court of his patron if hehad vilified his political foes, yet even imperial favour, acting on thesame side as political prejudice, did not tempt him to unfairness.[974]He could see and acknowledge noble qualities and disinterestedpatriotism, and give credit for sincere motives, even to those whodiffered in political opinions.

From a character such as has been described, much care is not to beexpected as to the sources from which historical information wasderived. Many original documents must have existed in his day, which heevidently never took the trouble to consult. A rich treasure of originalmonuments relating to foreign and domestic affairs were ready at hand,which might have been examined without much trouble.[975] The greatAnnals of the Pontifex Maximus were digested into eighty books; andthese contained the names of the magistrates, all memorable events athome and abroad—even the very days on which they occurred being marked.The commentaries not only of the priests and augurs, but of the civilmagistrates, were kept with exactness and regularity. There is no reasonfor supposing that the _Libri Lintei_[976] were lost in Livy’s time,although he quotes from Licinius Macer,[977] instead of consulting themhimself. Three thousand brazen tablets, on which were engraved acts ofthe senate and the plebeians, extending backwards (says Suetonius[978])almost to the building of the city, existed in the Capitol until it wasburnt in the reign of Vespasian. The corpus of civil law, which is knownto have existed in the time of Cicero,[979] was full of antiquarianlore; and the twelve tables furnished invaluable information, not onlyon language, but on the manners and habits of bygone times. Neverthelessthe fragments of the _Leges Regiæ_ and the laws of the twelve tableshave been more carefully examined by critics of modern times than theywere by Livy, when they existed in a more perfect condition.

Lachmann[980] has satisfactorily shown that the assertions of Livy arenot based upon personal investigation, but that he trusted to theannalists, and took advantage of the researches of preceding historians.This is all that he himself professes to do; and even these professionshe does not always satisfactorily perform. He does not appear to haveprofited by the Annals of Varro or the _Origines_ of Cato, a work which,according to the testimony of Cicero, must have been invaluable to anhistorian; and although the Archæologia of Dionysius were publishedabout the time at which Livy commenced his history,[981] there is noevidence that he makes use of it; certainly he never acknowledges anyobligation to the indefatigable researches of the Greek historian.According to his own confession,[982] Roman history is total darknessuntil the capture of Rome by the Gauls; and although a dim light thenbegins to break, a twilight period succeeds, which continues until thefirst Punic war. But it cannot be asserted that he prepared himself forhis difficult task as he ought, or took advantage of all the means athis disposal to enlighten the obscurity in which his subject wasinvolved. The authorities on which he principally depends for thecontents of the first Decade were such as Ennius, Fab. Pictor, Cincius,and Piso. It is evident that he also consulted Greek writers. In thethird, which contains the most beautiful and elaborate passages of thewhole work, he follows Polybius. Nor could he, in this portion of hishistory, follow a safer one. The Romans, notwithstanding all theirpractical tendencies, did little to promote geographical science. It isamongst the Greeks that we find the most accurate and indefatigablegeographers, such as were Polybius, Strabo, and Ptolemy.

Polybius prepared himself for the task of narrating the Italian campaignof Hannibal by personal inspection. Livy did nothing of the kind. Theformer travelled through the Alpine passes; and his authority wasconsidered so good that Strabo implicitly followed him. It is to belamented that, as he was writing to his countrymen, he seldom mentionsthe name of places; probably he thought they would not be the wiser forthe enumeration of unknown barbarian names. But his accuracy in datesand distances enables us to trace Hannibal’s route with correctness.These prove that the passage of Hannibal was by the Alpis Graia, theLittle St. Bernard; a statement which had been made by thatveracious[983] historian, Cælius Antipater, and also by CorneliusNepos.[984] It has been since confirmed by the researches of moderntravellers, such as General Melville, M. de Luc, Cramer, and Wickham.Strange to say, Livy, although following the route marked out byPolybius almost step by step, at length ends it with the Alpis Cottia(M. Genevre.) The absence of names left the fireside traveller at fault.Cæsar[985] had crossed the Alps by that pass; and, perhaps, Livy namedit at a venture, as the most familiar to him. In the succeeding portionsof his work, so complete is the confidence which he reposes upon theguidance of Polybius, that the fourth and fifth Decades are little morethan the history of Polybius paraphrased.

Niebuhr,[986] from internal evidence, gives an interesting account ofthe manner in which it is probable that Livy wrote his history. Hesupposes that, like most of the ancients, he employed a secretary, whoread to him from existing authorities the events of a single year. Thesethe historian mentally arranged, and then dictated his own narrative.The work, therefore, was composed in portions; the connexion of theevents of one year with those of the preceding one was lost sight of,and thus they seem isolated; and the conclusion of a series of eventssometimes unaccountably synchronizes with the conclusion of a year.

To his deficiencies in the habit of diligent and accurate investigationare added others which singularly disqualify him for the task of afaithful historian. He was a reader of books rather than a student ofmen and things; he took upon trust what other people told him, insteadof acquiring knowledge in a practical manner. He was ill-acquainted withthe history of foreign countries. He was not, like Cæsar, a soldier; andtherefore his descriptions of military affairs are often vague andindistinct, for he did not understand the tactics which he professed todescribe. He was not, like Thucydides, a politician or a philosopher;and hence the little trustworthy information which we derive from him onquestions connected with constitutional changes. He did not fit himself,like Herodotus, by travelling; and thus he is often ignorant of thelocalities which he describes, even though they are within the limits ofItaly. Hence the difficulties in the way of understanding the route ofHannibal and his army across the Alps, the battle of Thrasimene, and thedefeat at the Caudine Forks. He was not a philosopher, a lawyer, or apolitician: he could embrace with the eye and depict with the hand of anartist everything which was external and tangible; but he could notpenetrate the secret motives which actuate the human will, nor form aclear conception of the fundamental, legal and political principleswhich animated the institutions, and gave rise to the peculiarities, ofRoman constitutional history.

With respect to the speeches which he attributes to his principalheroes, a greater degree of accuracy cannot be expected, than is foundin those of Thucydides. But they do not possess that verisimilitudewhich is so admirable in those of the Greek historian. As works of artthey are faultless, but Livy does not keep in view the principle adheredto by Thucydides, that they should be such as the speakers were likelyto have delivered on the occasions in question. His great authority,Polybius, disapproves of imaginary speeches altogether;[987] but it mustbe remembered that, without some oratorical display, he would not havepleased the Roman people. The speeches of Thucydides, although they bearthe stamp of the writer’s mind, are, to a certain extent, characteristicof the speaker, and seem inspired by the occasion. If a Spartan speaks,he is laconic; if a general, he is soldier-like; if a statesman ordemagogue, he is logical or argumentative, or appeals to the feelingsand passions of the Athenian people. Consistency produces variety. Thespeeches of Livy are pleasing and eloquent,[988] but they are always, soto speak, Livian; they are frequently not such as Romans would havespoken in times when eloquence was rude, though forcible. They partakeof the rhetorical and declamatory spirit, which was already beginning tocreep over Roman literature; and often, from being unsuitable to time,place, and person, diminish, instead of heightening, the dramaticeffect.

Such are the principal defects which cause us to regret that, whilstLivy charms us with his romantic narratives and almost faultless style,he is too often a fallacious guide as an historian, and gives, notintentionally or dishonestly, but from the character of his mind, andthe object which he proposed to himself, a false colouring or a vagueand inaccurate outline to the events which he narrates. No one can avoidrelishing the liveliness, freshness, and “lactea ubertas,” of Livy’sfascinating style; but its principal excellence is summed up in theexpression of Quintilian, “_clarissimus candor_,” (brightness andlucidity.[989]) On the authority of Asinius Pollio, quoted by the samewriter,[990] a certain fault has been attributed to him, termed“Patavinity,” _i. e._, some peculiar ideas not admissible in the purestLatin, which mark the place of his nativity. So little pains do peopletake in the investigation of truth, and so ready are they to take upontrust what their predecessors have believed before them, that generationafter generation have assumed that Livy’s clear, eloquent, andtransparent style is disfigured by what we term provincialisms.[991] Thepenetrating mind of Niebuhr finds no ground for believing the story. Ifthere is any truth in it, he supposes the criticism must have applied tohis speaking, and not to his writing.[992] His style is alwaysclassical, even in the later decades: though prolix and tautologous, itis invariably marked by idiomatic purity and grammatical accuracy.

 GRAMMARIANS.

The grammarians may be passed over with little more notice than thesimple mention of their names, because, although they contributed to thestock of their country’s literature, they added little or nothing to itsliterary reputation. The most conspicuous amongst them were—AtteiusPhilologus, a freedman and friend of Sallust; Staberius Eros, who taughtBrutus and Cassius; Q. Cæcilius Epirota, the correspondent of Cicero; C.Julius Hyginus, a Spaniard, the friend of Ovid, and curator of thePalatine library; Verrius Flaccus, the tutor to the grandsons ofAugustus; Q. Cornificius, who was augur at the same time with Cicero;and P. Nigidius Figulus, an orator and philosopher as well as agrammarian.

 M. VITRUVIUS POLLIO.

The distinguished name of M. Vitruvius Pollio claims a place in acatalogue of the Augustan writers. His subject, indeed, belongs to theapartment of the fine arts; but his varied acquirements and extensiveknowledge, as well as the manner in which, notwithstanding some faults,he treats his subject, shed some lustre upon Roman literature, and stamphim as one of the didactic writers of his country.

Little information exists respecting this celebrated architect; and thiscircumstance has led to his being confounded with another professor ofthe same art, L. Vitruvius Cerdo. The name of the latter is thusinscribed on an arch, which was his work, at Verona:[993] “Q. VitruviusL. L. Cerdo, Architectus.” That Cerdo was not the author of the treatiseextant under the name of Vitruvius, may be satisfactorilyproved:—Firstly. The letters L. L. signify that he was Lucii Libertus(the freedman of Lucius,) whereas M. Vitruvius Pollio was born free.Secondly. The arch on which the name appears belongs to an age when theRomans had begun, in defiance of the precepts of Pollio, to neglect theprinciples of Greek architecture.[994]

Both the place and date of his birth are unknown. According to someauthorities he was born at Verona; according to others at Formiæ;[995]but he himself asserts that he received a good liberal education; andthe truth of this statement is confirmed by the knowledge which hedisplays of Greek and Roman literature, and his acquaintance with workswhich treat, not only of architecture, but also of polite learning andeven philosophy[996]—the writings, for example, of Lucretius, Cicero,and Varro. But the great object of his studies was, undoubtedly,professional, and to this he made literature a handmaid.

Vitruvius served under Julius Cæsar in Africa as a military engineer;and was subsequently employed by one of the emperors, to whom histreatise is dedicated, in the direction and control of that departmentof the public service. By his favour, and the kindness of his sister, hewas thus placed in a condition, if not of affluence, at least ofcompetency. Who his imperial patron was has been disputed; but thewidely extended conquests, the augmentation of the empire, the politicalinstitutions, and, moreover, the taste for architecture which Vitruviusattributes to him, renders it most probable that it was Augustus, thesovereign who found the city of bricks and left it of marble. It isclear that his work was written after the death of Julius Cæsar, and notlater than that of Titus, for the former he prefixes the word Divus,whilst he does not mention the Coliseum; and, although he speaks ofVesuvius,[997] he is evidently not aware of any eruptions having takenplace except in ancient times. Notwithstanding the arguments adduced byW. Newton[998] to prove that he wrote in the reign of Titus, it is nowuniversally admitted that Vitruvius was a writer of the Augustan age.The inferiority of his style to that of his contemporaries, itsoccasional obscurity and want of method, the not unfrequent occurrenceof inelegant, and even barbarous expressions, notwithstanding hisclassical education, may be accounted for by what has already beenstated respecting the professional object of all his studies. He himselfclaims indulgence on this score,[999] and states that he writes as anarchitect, and not as a literary man. So much of its difficulty asarises from conciseness he considers a matter for boasting rather thanapology.

In forming an estimate of the Latinity of an author like Vitruvius, itmust not be forgotten that our taste is formed by authority and by astudy of the best models. Novelty is exceptional, and thereforedispleases. But technical subjects render not only the introduction ofnew terms necessary, but even, owing to the poverty of language, awkwardperiphrases and obscure phraseology. Nevertheless, upon the whole, thelanguage of Vitruvius is vigorous, his descriptions bold, and seem thework of a true and correct hand, and a practised draughtsman.

His work consists of ten books, in which he treats of the whole subjectin a systematic and orderly manner.

The following are its principal contents:—A general view of the scienceand of the education suitable to an architect; the choice of sites; thearrangement of the buildings and fortifications of a city;[1000] aninteresting essay on the earliest human dwellings, buildingmaterials,[1001] temples, altars,[1002] forums, basilicæ, treasuries,jails, court-houses, baths, palæstræ, harbours, theatres, together withtheir acoustic principles, and the theory of musical sounds andharmonies.[1003] Private dwellings, both in town and country;[1004]decoration;[1005] water, and the means of supply;[1006] chronometricalinstruments;[1007] surveying[1008] and engineering, both civil andmilitary.

His work is valuable as a conspectus of the principles of Greekarchitectural taste and beauty, of which he was a devoted admirer, andfrom which he would not willingly have permitted any deviation. But hewas evidently deficient in the knowledge of the principles of Greekarchitectural construction.[1009] His taste was pure, too pure probablyfor the Romans; for, notwithstanding his theoretical excellence, we haveno evidence of his being employed, practically, as an architect, exceptin the case of the Basilica,[1010] at Colonia Julia Fanestris, now Fano,near Ancona.

 BOOK III. ERA OF THE DECLINE.

 CHAPTER I. DECLINE OF ROMAN LITERATURE—IT BECAME DECLAMATORY—BIOGRAPHY OF

PHÆDRUS—GENUINENESS OF HIS FABLES—MORAL AND POLITICAL LESSONS INCULCATED

 IN THEM—SPECIMENS OF FABLES—FABLES SUGGESTED BY HISTORICALEVENTS—SEJANUS AND TIBERIUS—EPOCH UNFAVOURABLE TO LITERATURE—INGENUITY OF PHÆDRUS—SUPERIORITY OF ÆSOP—THE STYLE OF PHÆDRUS CLASSICAL.

With the death of Augustus[1011] commenced the decline of Romanliterature, and only three illustrious names, Phædrus, Persius, andLucan, rescue the first years of this period from the charge of acorrupt and vitiated taste. After awhile, indeed, politicalcircumstances again became more favourable—the dangers which paralyzedgenius and talent, and prevented their free exercise under Tiberius andhis tyrannical successors, diminished, and a more liberal system ofadministration ensued under Vespasian and Titus. Juvenal and Tacitusthen stood forth as the representatives of the old Roman independence;vigour of thought communicated itself to the language; a taste for thesublime and beautiful to a certain extent revived, although it did notattain to the perfection which shed a lustre over the Augustan age.

The characteristic of the first literature of this epoch was declamationand rhetoric. As liberty declined, true natural eloquence graduallydecayed. When it is no longer necessary or even possible to persuade orconvince the people, that eloquence which calms the passions, wins theaffections, or appeals to common sense and the reasoning powers, has noopportunity for exercise. Its object is a new one—namely, to please andattract an audience who listen in a mere critical spirit: the weaponswhich it makes use of are novelty and ingenuity; novelty soon becomesstrangeness, and strangeness exaggeration; whilst ingenuity impliesunnatural study and a display of pedantic erudition—the aiming atstartling and striking effects—and at length ends in affectation.

If this was the prevailing false taste under the immediate successors ofAugustus, it is not surprising that it affected poetry as well as prose;and that the principal talent of the poet lay in florid and diffusedescriptions, whilst his chief fault was a style overladen withornament. The tragedies ascribed to Seneca are theatrical declamations;the satires of Persius are philosophical declamations; whilst the poemsof Lucan and Silius Italicus, though epic in form, are nothing more thandescriptive poems, and their style is rather rhetorical than poetical.

 PHÆDRUS.

Fable had been long known and popular amongst the Romans before the timeof Phædrus. Livy could not have attributed the well-known one toMenenius Agrippa, unless it had been a familiar tradition of longstanding. Fables amused the guests of Horace, and furnished subjects tothose of Ovid. In this, as in other fields of literature, Rome was animitator of Greece; but nevertheless the Roman fabulist struck out a newline for himself, and in his hands fable became, not only a moralinstructor, but a severe political satirist. Phædrus, the originator andonly author of Roman fable, flourished on the common confines of thegolden and the silver age. His mode of thought, as well as the eventswhich suggested both his original illustrations and his adaptations ofthe Æsopean stories, belong to that epoch of transition. His works are,as it were, isolated: he has no contemporaries. Although he was born inthe reign of Augustus, he wrote when the Augustan age had passed away.Nevertheless his solitary voice was lifted up when those of the poet,the historian, and the philosopher were silenced.

Phædrus, like Horace, is his own biographer; and the only knowledgewhich we have respecting his life is furnished by his Fables. In theprologue to the third book he informs us that he was a native of Thrace:“I,” he says, “to whom my mother gave birth on the Pierian hill—

 Ego quem Pierio mater enixa est jugo.”

And, again, he exclaims, “Why should I, who am nearer to letteredGreece, desert for slothful indolence the honour of my fatherland, whenThrace can reckon up her poets, and Apollo is the parent of Linus, themuse of Orpheus, who by his song endowed rocks with motion, tamed thewild beasts, and stopped the rapid Hebrus with welcome delay?—

 Ego literatæ qui sum propior Græciæ, Cur somno inerti deseram patriæ decus; Threïssa cum gens numeret auctores suos, Linoque Apollo sit parens, Musa Orpheo Qui saxa cantu movit, et domuit feras, Hebrique tenuit impetus dulci morâ?”

From the title, “Augusti Libertus,” prefixed to his fables, it is clearthat he adds one more distinguished name to that list of freedmen, whowere celebrated in the annals of literature. Although, in the preface tohis work, he modestly terms himself only a translator of Æsop,

 Æsopus auctor quam materiam repperit Hanc ego polivi versibus senariis,[1012]

still, for many of his fables, he deserves the credit of originality.Probably he enlarged and extended his original plan; for he afterwardsspeaks of simply adopting the style and not the matter of the Æsopeanfable.[1013]

He does not appear to have gained much fame or popularity; for he isonly twice mentioned by ancient authorities, namely, by Martial[1014]and Seneca.[1015] The latter, writing to Polybius, a favourite freedmanof Claudius, encourages him to enter upon the field which Phædrusalready occupied, asserting that fables in the style of Æsop constituteda work hitherto unattempted by Roman genius (_intentatum Romanisingeniis opus_.) Either, therefore, the fables of Phædrus were littleknown and appreciated, or Seneca purposely concealed from the Emperor’sfavourite the fact of their existence, in order to flatter him with thehopes of his thus becoming the first Roman writer in his style. Thepersecution to which literary men were subject under the worst Emperors,of which Phædrus hints obscurely that he was a victim[1016]—the perilsto which he would have been exposed by strictures upon persons in power,which, concealed under the veil of fiction, appear now dark andenigmatical, but which might have spoken plainly to the consciences ofthe actors themselves—probably rendered it a wise precaution to concealhis works during his lifetime; hence they would be little known, exceptto a chosen few, and the few copies made of them would account for therarity of the extant manuscripts.

Owing to the deficiency of ancient testimony, the genuineness of theFables has been disputed; but the purity of style, and the naturalallusions to contemporary events render it almost certain that theybelong to the age in which they were supposed to have been written. Noone but a contemporary could have written the fable commencing—

 Narrabo memoria quod factum est mea.[1017]

The prologue to the third book evidently speaks of the author’s owncalamities; and the way in which the name of Sejanus is connected withthe event, hints, although obscurely, that that prime minister oftyranny was the author of his sufferings. It is scarcely probable thathe would have ventured to attack Sejanus during his lifetime. It may,therefore, be assumed that Phædrus lived beyond the eighteenth year ofthe reign of Tiberius, in which year Sejanus died.

The original manuscript followed in the early editions of Phædrus wasdiscovered in the tenth century: it contained ninety-seven fables,divided into five books. But N. Perotto, an archbishop of Manfredonia,in the fifteenth century, published a miscellaneous collection of Latinfables, and amongst them were thirty-two new fables attributed toPhædrus, which were not found in the older editions. These were at firstsupposed to have been written by Perotto himself; but the manifestinferiority of some poems known to be the work of the archbishop, andthe Augustan purity of style which marks the newly-discovered fables,leave little doubt of their genuineness. Consequently, they werepublished by Angelo Mai as supplementary to those which had alreadyappeared.

The circumstances of the times in which he lived suggested the moral andprudential lessons which his fables inculcated. The bane of Rome, underthe empire, was the public informer (_delator_,) as the sycophant hadbeen the pest of Athens. Life and conduct, private as well as public,were exposed to a complete system of espionage: no one was safe fromthis formidable inquisition; a man’s familiar associate might be insecret his bitterest enemy. But the principal victims were the rich:they were marked out for destruction, in order that the confiscation oftheir property might glut the avarice of the Emperor and the informers.For this reason, Phædrus himself professes always to have seen the perilof acquiring wealth—

 Periculosum semper reputavi lucrum.

And we cannot be surprised that the danger of riches, and thecomparative safety of obscurity and poverty, should sometimes form themoral of his fables.

That of the Mules and the Thieves, which is entirely his own, teachesthis lesson:—

 Muli gravati sarcinis ibant duo; Unus ferebat fiscos cum pecuniâ, Alter tumentes multo saccos hordeo. Ille, onere dives, celsâ cervice eminet, Clarumque collo jactat tintinnabulum; Comes quieto sequitur et placido gradu. Subito latrones ex insidiis advolant, Interque cædem ferro mulum sauciant, Diripiunt nummos, negligunt vile hordeum. Spoliatus igitur cum casus fleret suos, Equidem, inquit alter, me contemptum gaudeo, Nam nihil amisi nec sum læsus vulnere. Hoc argumento tuta est hominum tenuitas; Magnæ periclo sunt opes obnoxiæ.[1018]

“Two mules, laden with heavy burdens, were journeying together: onecarried bags of money; the other, sacks filled with barley. The former,proud of his rich load, carried his head high, and made the bell on hisneck sound merrily; his companion followed with quiet and gentle paces.On a sudden, some thieves rush from an ambuscade, wound thetreasure-mule, strip him of his money-bags, but leave untouched theworthless barley. When, therefore, the sufferer bewailed his sadcase—‘For my part,’ replied his companion, ‘I rejoice that I was treatedwith contempt; for I have no wounds, and have lost nothing.’ The subjectof this fable proves that poverty is safe, whilst great wealth isexposed to peril.”

The fable of the Man and the Ass teaches a salutary lesson to anotherclass of wealthy men, namely, those favourites of the emperor and hiscreatures, who owed their wealth to plunder and confiscation. Everyday’s experience proved that those who battened on the spoils of theoppressed one day, became themselves the victims of the same tyrannicalsystem the next. Like that of the prime minister, Sejanus himself, thesun of their prosperity was destined to set, and their ill-gotten spoilto enrich others as unworthy as themselves. Those fortunes were indeedbuilt upon a rotten foundation, which the same system had power to raiseup and to overthrow:—

 Quidam immolasset verrem quum sancto Herculi, Cui pro salute votum debebat sua, Asello jussit reliquias poni hordei. Quas aspernatus ille sic locutus est: Tuum libenter prorsus appeterem cibum Nisi, qui nutritus illo est, jugulatus foret.

 * * * * *

 Majorem turbam punitorum reperies; Paucis temeritas est bono, multis malo.[1019]

“A man who had sacrificed a boar to Hercules, which he had vowed as athank-offering for his recovery from sickness, ordered the remains ofthe barley to be given to his ass. The ass rejected it with scorn, andsaid, ‘I would gladly eat of the food you give me, had not he who wasfattened on it had his throat cut.’

“You will find that the majority of those who grow rich by violence andrapine are punished; audacity succeeds with few, but ruins many.”

The continued succession of tyrannical emperors must have taught theiroppressed subjects that they had nothing to hope for from a change ofthose who wore the purple. This truth is imbodied in the fable of theold Peasant and his Ass:——

 In principatu commutando civium Nil, præter domini nomen, mutant pauperes. Id esse verum parva hæc fabula indicat. Asellum in prato timidus pascebat senex. Is, hostium clamore subito territus, Suadebat asino fugere, ne possent capi. At ille lentus; quæso, num binas mihi Clitellas impositurum victorem putas? Senex negavit. Ergo quid refert mea Cui serviam, clitellas dum portem meas?[1020]

“In a change of princes the poor change nothing but the name of theirmaster. The truth of this is shown by the following little fable. Atimid old man was feeding his ass in a meadow. Alarmed by the shouts ofan advancing enemy he urged the ass to fly for fear they should be takenprisoners. But the ass loitered, and said, ‘Pray, do you think that theconqueror will put two pack-saddles on my back?’ ‘No,’ replied the oldman. ‘What, then, does it matter to me in whose service I am, so long asI have to carry my load?’”

The well known fable of the Wolf and the Lamb (i. 1) illustrates theunscrupulousness of the informers; and that of the Wolf and theHouse-dog (iii. 7) teaches how preferable is liberty, even under thegreatest privations, to luxury and comfort purchased by submission tothe caprices of a master.

Of such a kind were the moral and political lessons which Phædrusenforced in the attractive garb of fables. They were of a generalcharacter, suggested by the evils of the times in which he lived.

Another class were suggested by historical events: they werenevertheless severe satirical strictures on individuals. Two may bepointed out as examples which are evidently directed against Tiberiusand Sejanus. These are—The Frogs demanding a King, (i. 2;) and the Frogsand the Sun, (i. 6.) Neither of the fables are original; they areapposite applications of two by Æsop.

The Romans,[1021] like the frogs in the first of these fables, hadexchanged their liberty for the slavery of the empire. In Tiberius, nowan imbecile dotard, wholly given up to sensual indulgence in his retreatat Capreæ, they had a perfect King Log. He was utterly careless of thesufferings of his subjects and the administration of his kingdom.

To his odious minister, Sejanus, he intrusted the toils of government,to which his own indolence indisposed him. All tyranny and cruelty wereascribed to the ministers; whilst the effeminate debauchery of theEmperor rendered him, even in that demoralized age, an object ofcontempt and insult rather than of abhorrence and fear. L. Sejanus, akinsman of Ælius,[1022] employed bald-headed persons, and children withtheir heads shaved, in the procession of the Floral games, in order tohold up to scorn and derision the bald-headed Emperor, and he dared nottake notice of the insult. The infamous Fulcinius Trio in his last willdeclared that Tiberius had become childish in his old age, and that hiscontinued retirement was nothing else but exile.[1023] Pacuvianus wasthe author of pasquinades against the Emperor. In the same way Phædrusdescribes the frogs as treating “King Log” with scorn, and as defilinghim in the most offensive manner.

But after the death of Sejanus a change took place in the Emperor’sconduct, though not in his character. He left Capreæ for a time, andtook up his abode in the Vatican, close to the very walls of Rome. Henow gave vent to his savage disposition, and displayed the temper of thewater-snake in the fable. His natural cruelty was equalled by hisactivity. “His sharp tooth seized his unresisting victims one after theother: in vain they fly from death; fear prevents them from uttering aword in defence or expostulation.” No longer a vast expanse of sea andland intervened between the tyrant and his victims. There was nothing todelay the pompous and verbose missives of his bloody purposes: hisrescripts could reach the consuls the same day, or at least after theinterval of a night: he could behold, as it were, with his own eyes, thereeking hands of the executioners, and the waves of blood which delugedevery dwelling.[1024] Vengeance not only fell on the guilty Sejanus andhis unoffending family, the vilest and the noblest blood of Rome alikeflowed at the tyrant’s command. The fable of the Frogs and the Sun was acovert attack upon the ambitious designs of Sejanus. It is sufficientlyshort to be quoted:

 Uxorem quandam Sol quum vellet ducere, Clamorem Ranæ sustulere ad sidera. Convicio permotus, quærit Jupiter Causam querelæ. Quædam tum stagni incola, Nunc, inquit, omnes unus exurit lacus Cogitque miseras arida sede emori; Quidnam futurum est, si creârit liberos?[1025]

“Once upon a time the Sun determined to marry; and the Frogs raised acry of alarm to Heaven. Jupiter, moved by their complaints, asked thecause of them. One of the denizens of the pond answered:—‘Now the Sun byhimself dries up all the lakes, and causes us to die a miserable deathin our parched-up dwellings. What then will become of us if he haschildren?’”

Now let us examine the application. The fawning yet ambitious Sejanushad always aspired to ally himself with the imperial family. The firstattempt which he made to accomplish his design was procuring thebetrothal of his daughter to Drusus, the son of Claudius, afterwardsemperor. This prince died young, and consequently the marriage nevertook place;[1026] but this first opened the eyes of the Romans to theaudacious projects of the favourite. Later in his career,[1027] he, by asimilar step, endeavoured to pave his way to the imperial purple. Heseduced Livilla, the sister of the amiable Germanicus, poisoned herhusband, divorced his own wife, and asked the sanction of Tiberius tohis marriage with the widow of the murdered man. The emperor, with hisusual finesse and dissimulation, refused. The demand awoke thesuspicions of the court, and was a commencement of that coolness betweenSejanus and his patron which eventually ended in the fall of the latter.The influence of Sejanus alone was sufficiently baneful; what would itbe if multiplied by a race of princes descended from him? The mereprobability of such an event naturally filled Rome with alarm andconsternation; and this Phædrus endeavoured to encourage by a fable,which, if it had not some such object as this, would scarcely beintelligible.

The quotations which have been given from the fables of Phædrus aresufficient, as examples of his ingenuity in imitation and adaptation, aswell as of his original genius, whenever he trusts to his powers ofinvention. Some of his pieces, although, like the rest, they areentitled fables, are, in fact, narratives of real events, and show thathe possessed a charming talent for telling anecdotes, besides skill as afabulist in the proper sense of the term. His style has great merits: itcombines the simple neatness and graceful elegance of the golden agewith the vigour and terseness of the silver one. Phædrus has thefacility of Ovid, and the brevity of Tacitus. Thus standing in the epochbetween two literary periods, he, as far as the humble nature of hiswalk admits, unites the excellencies of both. Between the age of Horaceand Juvenal, Cicero and Tacitus, there was a gap, and a long one, notless than half a century: it was a period in which Roman genius wasslumbering. Phædrus proves that that sleep was not the sleep of death.Tacitus has partially accounted for this cold and dark interval. Hetells us[1028]—“that although the affairs of the ancient Roman republic,whether in prosperity or in adversity, were related by illustriouswriters—and even the times of Augustus were not deficient in historiansof talent and genius—nevertheless the gradual growth of a spirit ofadulation deterred all who were qualified for the task from attemptingit. Fear, during the lifetime of Tiberius, Caius, Claudius, and Nero,and hatred, still fresh after their deaths, rendered all accounts oftheir reigns false.”

It was thus, according to him, fear and hatred, and a spirit offlattery, that silenced the voice of history. Doubtless what he says ofhistory applies with equal force to poetry, and oratory likewise. Thesame cause which crushed political liberty rendered the truthfulness ofthe historian fraught with danger, and all poetry, except it spoke thelanguage of adulation, treason; a crime which was no longer one againstthe majesty of the people, but was transferred to the person of theemperor. The very term παρρησια (boldness of speech) was a word, theutterance of which was as perilous as to speak of liberty.[1029] Thedanger had scarcely passed away when Juvenal, notwithstanding hisfearless spirit, wrote:—

 Unde illa priorum Scribendi quodcunque animo flagrante liberet, Simplicitas, cujus non audeo dicere nomen. _Juv._ i. 153.

 Where the plain times, the simple, when our sires Enjoyed a freedom which I dare not name, And gave the public sin to public shame, Heedless who smiled or frowned. _Gifford._

But there was a negative as well as a positive cause, the withdrawal ofpatronage. Literature, in order to flourish, requires the genialsunshine of human sympathy: it needs either the patronage of the greator the favour of the people. In Greece it enjoyed the latter in thehighest possible degree; in Rome, from the time of the Scipios to thatof Augustus, it was fostered by the former. Immediately after his deathpatronage was withdrawn, and there was not public support to supply itsplace. Tiberius was first a soldier; then a dark and reservedpolitician; lastly, a blood-thirsty and superstitious sensualist. Theenjoyments of Gaius Caligula were the extravagancies of a madman,although he was responsible for his moral insanity, because he had, byvicious indulgence, been the destroyer of his moral principle; and notonly did he not encourage literature, but he even hated Homer andVirgil. Lastly, the stupid and dozing Claudius wrote books[1030] asstupid as himself, and was at once the butt and tool of his courtiers.It was not, therefore, until the reign of Nero that literature revived;for, though the bloodiest of tyrants, he had an ambition to excel inrefinement, and had a taste for art and poetry.

In the construction of his fables, Phædrus displays observation andingenuity. Nothing escapes his watchful eye which can be turned toaccount in his little poems. A rude sketch in charcoal on the wall of alow tavern[1031] suggested to him the idea of the Battle between theRats and the Weasels. His animals are grouped, and put in attitudes,just as a painter would arrange them. His accurate eye has noted andregistered the habits of the brute creation, and he has adapted them tothe delivery of noble and wise sentiments with the utmost ingenuity. Butthere his genius stops. He is deficient in imagination. He makes hisanimals the vehicles of his wisdom; but he does not throw himself intothem, or identify himself with them. The true poet is lost in hischaracters: carried away by the enthusiasm of an inspired imagination,his spirit is transfused into his heroes;—you forget his existence. Thecharacters of Phædrus look and act like animals, but talk like humanbeings: the moralist and the philosopher can always be detected speakingunder their mask and in their disguise.

In this consists the great superiority of Æsop to his Roman imitator.His brutes are a superior race, but they are still brutes. The readercould almost fancy that the fabulist had lived amongst them as one ofthemselves—had adopted their modes of life, and had conversed with themin their own language. In Phædrus we have human sentiments translatedinto the language of beasts—in Æsop we have beasts giving utterance tosuch sentiments as would be naturally theirs, if they were placed in theposition of men. Skilful adaptation and happy delineation are thetriumphs of ingenuity and observation: the creative power is that of theimagination.

The style of Phædrus, notwithstanding a few provincialisms,[1032] ispure and classical. He does not often indulge in the use of metaphors,but the few which are met with are striking and appropriate. He is notentirely free from some of that far-fetched affectation whichcharacterizes the decline of Roman literature. But his fault isexaggerated conciseness, and the concentration of many ideas within abrief space, rather than the rhetorical ornament which now began to beadmired and popular. His endeavour after brevity led him to use abstractsubstantives far more profusely than is consistent with the practice ofthe best classical writers. These faults, however, do not interfere withthat clearness and simplicity, which, quite as much as the subjects,have rendered the fables of Phædrus a popular book for the youngstudent, and please even those who have the opportunity of comparing hisiambics with the liveliness of Gay, the politeness of Florian, thephilosophy of Lessing, the sweetness of Cowper, and the unequalledversatility of La Fontaine.

 CHAPTER II.DRAMATIC LITERATURE IN THE AUGUSTAN AGE—REVIVAL UNDER NERO—DEFECTS OF THE TRAGEDIES ATTRIBUTED TO SENECA—INTERNAL EVIDENCE OF THEIR

AUTHORSHIP—SENECA THE PHILOSOPHER A STOIC—INCONSISTENT AND UNSTABLE—THE

SENTIMENTS OF HIS PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS FOUND IN HIS TRAGEDIES—PARALLEL PASSAGES COMPARED—FRENCH SCHOOL OF TRAGIC POETS.

Of Roman tragedy in its earliest period, so far as the fragments of itwhich remain allow a judgment to be formed, an account has already beengiven; and if circumstances forbade it to flourish then, still less canit be expected that the boldness and independence of Greek tragedy wouldbe found under the empire.

Nevertheless, there were not wanting some imitators of Greece in thisnoblest branch of Greek poetry, however unsuitable it was to the geniusof the Roman people, and unlikely to be appreciated by them.

But their productions were rather literary than dramatic; they wereintended to be read, not acted. They were poems composed in a dramaticform, because Athens had set the example of that form to her devotedimitators. Although, therefore, they contain noble philosophicalsentiments, lively descriptions, vigorous conceptions and delineationsof character, and passages full of tenderness and pathos, they aredeficient in dramatic effect, and positively offend against those lawsof good taste, which, not arbitrarily assumed, but founded on theprinciples of the human mind, regulated the Athenian stage.

We have seen that, in the Augustan age, a few writers attained someexcellence in tragedy, at least in the opinion of ancient critics.Besides Ovid and Varius, whose tragedies have been already mentioned,Asinius Pollio acquired a high reputation as a tragic poet, andVirgil[1033] declares that he is the only one worthy of being comparedwith Sophocles:—

 Sola Sophocleo tua carmina digna cothurno.

On the revival of letters under that professor of a love ofpoetry,[1034] the tyrant Nero, dramatic literature reappeared, andperfect specimens are extant in the ten tragedies attributed to Seneca.Various and opposite opinions have been entertained respecting theirmerits; but there can be no doubt that the genius of the author nevercan grasp in their wholeness the characters which he attempts to copy;they are distorted images of the Greek originals; the awful and shadowygrandeur of the god-like heroes of Æschylus stand forth in corporealvastness, and appear childish and unnatural, like the giants of astory-book. The marvels of Greek tragedy and Greek mythology, thoughmerely the unreal conceptions of the imagination, do not appearexaggerated, because the connexion between the theory and the result,the causes and the effects, is so skilfully maintained; but in theseRoman tragedies the legends of Greece appear extravagant and absurd:they are as unreal, and therefore seem as affected, as the classicalgarb in which English poetry was arrayed in the age of Anne. The Greeksbelieved in the gods and heroes whose agency and exploits constitutedthe machinery of tragedy—the Romans did not; and thus we cannotsympathize with them, because we see that they are insincere. The style,moreover, of the tragedies, which bear the name of Seneca, is spoiled bythat inflated language and redundancy of ornament, the constant effectof which is, as Aristotle observes, frigidity. They bear the visiblemarks of an age in which genius had given place to an artificial andscholastic rhetoric; and the author seems to have been striving not fortragic pathos so much as brilliant declamation. In the femalecharacters, especially, the Roman tragic poet fails; for, although hecan understand heroism, he is unable to accomplish that most difficultof all tasks, the combining it with feminine delicacy. Perhaps the bestand noblest of his country-women did not furnish him with such ideals.The Roman matron was the counterpart of her warlike lord. The Lucretias,Porcias, Cornelias, Arrias, though devoted and affectionate, were ofsterner mould than Antigone and Deianira.

The tragedies which bear the name of Seneca have been attributed to L.Annæus Seneca, the philosopher, as early as the time ofQuintilian,[1035] who quotes as Seneca’s a verse from the Medea. Theimprobability of this being the case is also diminished by the fact thatboth Tacitus[1036] and Pliny the younger[1037] speak of him as a poet.Nevertheless, their authorship has been considered a very doubtfulquestion. A passage in an epigram of Martial, in which he speaks ofCordova as the birthplace of two Senecas and one Lucan—

 Duosque Senecas unicumque Lucanum Facunda loquitur Corduba[1038]—

has been interpreted as implying that Seneca the philosopher was adifferent person from Seneca the tragedian. There can, however, bescarcely any doubt that he was speaking of M. Annæus Seneca therhetorician, and his son Lucius the philosopher. SidoniusApollinaris,[1039] the son-in-law of the Emperor Flavius Avitus, andBishop of Clermont,[1040] in the last years of the Roman empire,unhesitatingly draws a distinction between them. He enumerates threemembers of the Cordovan family:—

 Quorum unus colit hispidum Platonem, Incassumque suum monet Neronem, Orchestram quatit alter Euripidis Pictum fæcibus Æschylum sequutus, Aut plaustris solitum sonare Thespim Pugnam tertius ille Gallicanam Dixit Cæsaris. _Carm._ ix. 231.

But, notwithstanding the celebrity which Sidonius enjoyed as a poet atthe imperial court, his opinion is of no authority when weighed againstthe internal evidence derived from the tragedies themselves. Thisrenders it almost morally certain, that they are the work of no otherwriter than Seneca the philosopher.

Although the Romans, as being imitators of the Greeks, and not originalthinkers, were eclectics in philosophy, their favourite doctrines werethose of the Stoics. They suited the rigid sternness of their character:they imbodied that spirit of self-devotion and self-denial with whichthe Roman patriot, in the old times of simple republican virtue, threwhimself into his public duties; and Seneca, with all his faults, was areal Roman: with all his finesse and artful policy, he retained, in themidst of a debased age and a profligate court, a large portion of theold Roman character. In life and in death his was a true specimen of theStoic creed.

Still he was by no means a consistent man: his theory was perfect, buthis practice often fell short of it. The lessons of morality containedin his philosophical works are excellent, and persuasively enforced, andwear an appearance of honesty and sincerity; but, nevertheless, in hisphilosophy, as well as in his life, we can discover that his moralprinciples were unstable and wavering. These two features can be tracedin his tragedies: they abound in philosophical dogmas and moralsentiments, and they display the same Stoicism mingled with occasionalhabits of inconsistency. Suicide is painted in the most attractivecolours: death is met not only with courage, but with the sameindifference with which Seneca himself, together with other victims ofimperial tyranny, met it in his own day. It is not welcomed, as in theGreek tragedians, as a relief from the burden of earthly sorrows; butthere is a manifest departure from the Greek model: the natural beautyof that model is violated, and the features of the original charactersacrificed to Stoical coldness and want of feeling.

But not only are these tragedies filled with philosophical reflections;even the sentiments enunciated in the acknowledged works of Seneca, inhis Essays and Epistles, are transferred to them, and the peculiar turnsof expression used by the philosopher are repeated by the poet. Abrilliant French author[1041] has ingeniously brought together andcompared parallel passages, which illustrate this similarity ofsentiment and style. A few of these are sufficient as examples. Two inthe “Phœnissæ,” in which Œdipus insists on “the liberty of dying,”imbody the same doctrine as two others, one in the epistles to Lucilius,the other in the treatise on Providence.

 He (says Œdipus) who compels one who is unwilling to die does the same as he who hinders one who is eager for death; nay, I consider the latter treats me the worse of the two. I had rather that death were forced upon me than that the privilege of dying should be torn from me.

 Qui cogit mori Nolentem, in æquo est, quique properantem impedit. Nec tamen in æquo est; alterum gravius reor, Malo imperari quam eripi mortem mihi. _Phœnis._ 98.

And again the same favourite sentiment appears:—

 I cannot be prevented from dying; of what availeth all that care of thine? Death is everywhere. Most wisely has God provided for this. There is no one who cannot rob a man of life, but no one can rob him of death; to this a thousand roads are open.

 Morte prohiberi haud queo. Quid ista tandem cura proficit tua? Ubique mors est. Optime hoc _cavit_ Deus. Eripere vitam nemo non homini potest; _At nemo mortem_; mille ad hanc aditus _patent_. _Phœnis._ 146.

With these are compared the following sentences of the philosopher, inwhich not only the doctrines, but also the language in which they areexpressed, are so strikingly parallel as scarcely to admit of a doubtthat the authors are identical:—

 To live under compulsion is an evil; but there is no compulsion to live under compulsion. Many roads to liberty lie open on all sides, short and easy. Let us thank God that no one can be retained in life.

And, again, Divine Providence is represented as declaring to mankind:—

 Before all things I have provided that no one should detain you against your will—an exit is open to you.

 Malum est in necessitate vivere, sed in necessitate vivere necessitas nulla est. _Patent_ undique ad libertatem _viæ multæ_, breves, faciles. Agamus Deo gratias, quod nemo in vitâ teneri potest.—Ep. xii.

 Ante omnia _cavi_, ne quis vos teneret invitos, patet exitus. _De Provident._ vi.

How exactly in accordance with these sentiments, whether expressed inpoetry or prose, is the closing scene of Seneca’s life; the almostbusiness-like way in which he entered upon the road which was appointedto lead him from the dominion of necessity to the enjoyment ofliberty—the imperturbable coolness with which he could contemplate thedeath of his wife, whom he loved with the greatest affection![1042] Howcalculated, moreover, were they to engage the sympathies of hiscontemporaries! It was an age in which, amidst its various corruptions,the only virtue which survived was the knowing how to meet death with acourageous spirit, in which many of the best and the noblest willinglydied by their own hands at the imperial mandate, in order to save theirname from infamy, and the inheritance of their children fromconfiscation.

Again, an awful belief in destiny, and the hopeless, yet patient,struggle of a great and good man against this all-ruling power, is themainspring of Greek tragedy. This is not transferred into the imitationsof the Romans. Its place is supplied by the stern fatalism of theStoics. The principle of destiny entertained by the Greek poets is amythological, even a religious one: it is the irresistible will of God.God is at the commencement of the chain of causes and effects by whichthe event is brought about which God has ordained; his inspired prophetshave power to foretell, and mortals cannot resist or avoid. It is ratherpredestination than destiny. The doctrine implies an intelligent agent,not a mere abstract principle.

The fatalism of the Stoics, on the other hand, is the doctrine ofpractical necessity. It ignores the almighty power of the Supreme Being,although it does not deny his existence. It strips him of his attributesas the moral Governor of the universe. These doctrines are found both inthe philosopher and tragic poet. Translate the subjoined prose passageinto the conventional language of poetry, adopt as a mere matter ofembellishment the fables of Greek mythology, personify the Stoicalprinciple of necessity by the Greek Fates, and it becomes the Chorus inthe Latin tragedy Œdipus. Both these passages are quoted by Nisard:—

 _Nihil cogor nihil patior invitus_; nec servio Deo, sed assentior; eo quidem magis, quod scio _omnia certa_ et in æternum dicta lege decurrere. _Fata nos ducunt_, et quantum cuique restat, _prima nascentium hora disposuit. Causa pendet ex causa_; privata ac publica _longus ordo_ rerum trahit. Ideo fortiter omne ferendum est; quia non, ut putamus, incidunt cuncta, sed veniunt. Olim constitutum est quid gaudeas, quid fleas; et quamvis magna videatur varietate singulorum vita distingui, summa in unum venit; accepimus peritura perituri.

 _De Provid._ v.

 I am neither compelled to do or to suffer anything against my will. I am not a slave to God, but I bow to his will. The more so because I know that all things are fixed and proceed according to an everlasting law. Destiny is our guide, and the hour of our birth has disposed all the remainder of our lives. Each cause depends upon a preceding one; a long chain of circumstances links together all things, both public and private. Therefore we must bear all things with fortitude, since all things _come to pass_, and do not, as we suppose, _happen_. Our joys or sorrows have been determined long ago; and although a great variety of items distinguishes the lives of individuals, the sum total is the same. Perishable creatures ourselves, that which we have received is perishable likewise.

A comparison of the above with the following passage exhibits asimilarity which could only have proceeded from the same mind and thesame pen; for it is to be remembered, that though the Romans wereimitators of the Greeks, they did not copy one another; and throughoutthe whole field of Roman literature no example could be found of a poettransferring to his works the exact sentiments, tone of thought, andturn of expression of another Latin author:—

 _Fatis agimur, cedite fatis_: Non sollicitæ possunt curæ Mutare rati stamina fusi. _Quicquid patimur_, mortale genus, _Quicquid facimus_, venit ex alto; Servatque suæ decreta colus Lachesis, dura revoluta manu. _Omnia certo tramite_ vadunt _Primusque dies dedit extremum_. Non illa Deo vertisse licet _Quæ nexa suis currunt causis_. It cuique ratus, prece non ulla Mobilis, _ordo_. _Œdip._ 980.

 We are led by destiny—yield then to its power. Anxious care cannot change the thread spun by the distaff of the Fates. Whatever we mortals do or suffer comes from on high; and Lachesis observes the decrees of the wheel which revolves beneath her pitiless hand. All things proceed in a fixed path, and the first day of life has determined the last. God has not power to change the chain of causes and effects. Each has its fixed order, which no prayers can alter.

Even the philosophical inconsistencies[1043] traceable in the prosetreatises are repeated in the tragedies. In one letter[1044] he affirmshis belief that the soul of Scipio Africanus has ascended into heaven asa reward of his virtue and piety; in another[1045] he asserts the gloomydoctrine that death is annihilation: “Mors est non esse.” In like mannerin the “Troades” the Chorus declares that the happy Priam wandersamongst pious souls in the “safe Elysian shades;”[1046] and yet, with aninconsistency which the Letters of the philosopher alone account for,another passage in the same tragedy declares that the spirit vanisheslike smoke, that after death is nothingness, and death itself isnothing.[1047]

On such internal evidence as this rests the probability, almostamounting to certainty, that Seneca the philosopher, and the author ofthe ten tragedies, are one and the same.[1048]

Notwithstanding their false rhetorical taste, and the absence of allideal and creative genius, the tragedies of Seneca found many admirersand imitators in modern times. The French school of tragic poets tookthem for their model: Corneille evidently considered them the ideal oftragedy, and Racine servilely imitated them. Their philosophy captivatedan age which thought that nothing was so sublime as heathen philosophy;and yet that same age derived its notions of ancient philosophy from theRomans instead of from the original Greek sources; and its poeticaltaste, as far as it was classical, was formed on a study of Romandramatic literature, before the excellence of the Attic drama wassufficiently known to be appreciated.

 CHAPTER III. BIOGRAPHY OF PERSIUS—HIS SCHOOLBOY DAYS—HIS FRIENDS—HIS PURITY ANDMODESTY—HIS DEFECTS AS A SATIRIST—SUBJECTS OF HIS SATIRES—OBSCURITY OF

HIS STYLE—COMPARED WITH HORACE—BIOGRAPHY OF JUVENAL—CORRUPTION OF ROMANMORALS—CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS OF THE SATIRES—THEIR HISTORICAL VALUE—STYLE

 OF JUVENAL—HE WAS THE LAST OF ROMAN SATIRISTS.

 AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS (BORN A. D. 34.)

Roman satire subsequently to Horace is represented by Aulus PersiusFlaccus and Decimus Junius Juvenalis. Persius was a member of anequestrian family, and was born, according to the Eusebian Chronicle,A. D. 34, at Volaterræ in Etruria. He was related to the best familiesin Italy, and numbered amongst his kindred Arria, the noble-minded wifeof Pætus. His father died when he was six years old, and his mother,Fulvia Sisenna, married a second time a Roman knight named Fusius. In afew years she was again a widow. Persius received his elementaryeducation at his native town; but at twelve years of age he was broughtto Rome, and went through the usual course of grammar and rhetoric,under Remmius Palæmon[1049] and Virginius Flavus.[1050] The former ofthese was, like so many men of letters, a freedman, and the son of aslave. He was, according to Suetonius,[1051] a man of profligate morals,but gifted with great fluency of speech, and a prodigious memory. He wasrather a versifier than a poet, and, like so many modern Italians,possessed the talent of improvising. He was prosperous as aschoolmaster, considering the very small pittance which the members ofthat profession usually earned, for his school brought him in fortysestertia per annum (about 325_l._[1052]) Virginius Flavus is only knownas the author of a treatise on Rhetoric.

Persius himself gives[1053] an amusing picture of his schoolboyidleness, his love of play, and his tricks to escape the hateddeclamation which, in Roman schools, formed a weekly exercise:[1054]—

 Sæpe oculos, memini, tangebam parvus olivo, Grandia si nollem morituri verba Catonis Discere non sano multum laudanda magistro, Quæ pater adductis sudans audiret amicis. Jure; etenim id summum, quid dexter senio ferret, Scire erat in voto; damnosa canicula quantum Raderet; angustæ collo non fallier orcæ; Neu quis callidior buxum torquere flagello.

 Oft, I remember yet, my sight to spoil, Oft, when a boy, I bleared my eyes with oil: What time I wished my studies to decline, Nor make great Cato’s dying speeches mine; Speeches my master to the skies had raised, Poor pedagogue! unknowing what he praised; And which my sire, suspense ’twixt hope and fear, With venial pride, had brought his friends to hear.

 For then, alas! ’twas my supreme delight To study chances, and compute aright What sum the lucky dice would yield in play, And what the fatal aces sweep away; Anxious no rival candidate for fame Should hit the long-necked jar with nicer aim; Nor, while the whirling top beguiled the eye, With happier skill the sounding scourge apply. _Gifford._

At sixteen, Persius attached himself to the Stoic philosopher AnnæusCornutus, by whom he was imbued with the stern philosophical principleswhich occupy so prominent a place in his Satires. The friendship whichhe formed thus early in life continued until the day of his death. Theyoung Lucan was also one of his intimate associates, whose philosophicaland poetical tastes were similar to his own, and who had a profoundadmiration for his writings. He was acquainted with Seneca, but had novery great regard either for him or his works. Cæsius Bassus, to whom headdressed his sixth Satire, was also one of his intimates.[1055] Itredounds greatly to his honour that he enjoyed the friendship of PætusThrasea, one of the noblest examples of Roman virtue.[1056] Persius diedprematurely of a disease in the stomach, at the age of twenty-eight. Heleft a large fortune to his mother and sister; and his library,consisting of seven hundred volumes, together with a considerablepecuniary legacy, to his beloved tutor, Cornutus. The philosopher,however, disinterestedly gave up the money to the sister of his deceasedfriend.

Pure in mind and chaste in life, Persius was free from the corrupt taintof an immoral age. He exhibited all the self-denial, the control of thepassions, and the stern uncompromising principles of the philosophywhich he admired, but not its hypocrisy. Stoicism was not, in his case,as in that of so many others, a cloak for vice and profligacy.

Although Lucretius was, to a certain extent, his model, he does notattack vice with the biting severity of the old satirist. He ratheradopts the caustic irony of the old Greek comedy, as more in accordancewith that style of attack which he himself terms—

 petulanti splene cachinno.[1057]

Nor do we find in his writings the fiery ardour, the enthusiasticindignation, which burn in the verses of Juvenal; but this resulted fromthe tenderness of his heart and the gentleness of his disposition, andnot from any disqualification for the duties of a moral instructor, suchas weak moral principle, or irresolute timidity.

Although he must have been conscious that the dangerous times duringwhich his short life was passed rendered caution necessary, still it isfar more probable that his purity of mind and kindliness of heartdisinclined him to portray vice in its hideous and loathsome forms, andto indulge in bitterness of invective which prevalent enormities of histimes deserved. It may be questioned whether obscenities like those ofJuvenal, notwithstanding purity of intention, best promote the interestsof virtue. It is to be feared that often the passions are excited andthe human heart rendered more corrupt by descriptions of vice, whilstthe moral lesson is disregarded.

Persius evidently believed that reserve and silence, or thoseabominations which make the pure-minded shudder with horror, and call upa blush upon the cheek of innocence, would more safely maintain thedignity and purity of virtue, than the divesting himself of that virginmodesty (_virgineus ille pudor_) which constituted the great charm ofhis character. His uprightness and love of virtue are shown by theuncompromising severity with which he rebukes sins of not so deep a die;and the heart which was capable of being moulded by his example, andinfluenced by his purity, would have shrunk from the fearful crimeswhich defile the pages of Juvenal.

The greatest defect in Persius, as a satirist, is, that the philosophyin which he was educated rendered him too indifferent to the affairswhich were going on in the world around him. Politics had littleinterest for him: he lived within himself a meditative life; wealth andsplendour he despised. His contemplative habits led him to criticise, ashis favourite subjects, false taste in poetry and empty pretensions tophilosophy. His modest and retiring nature found little sympathy withthe passions, the tumults, the business, or the pleasures which agitatedRome. He was more a student of the closet than a man of the world.Horace mingled in the society of the profligate; he considered them asfools; and laughed their folly to scorn. Juvenal looked down upon thecorruption of the age from an eminence, where, involved in his virtue,he was safe from moral pollution, and punished it like an avengingdeity. Persius, pure in heart and passionless by education, whilst helashes wickedness in the abstract, almost ignores its existence, andmodestly shrinks from laying bare the secret pollutions of the humanheart, and from probing its vileness to the bottom. The amiability, andabove all the disinterestedness, which characterize his Satires, fullyaccount for the popularity which they attained immediately on theirpublication by Cornutus, and the panegyrics of which he was the subjectin later times. “Persius,” writes Quintilian,[1058] “multum et verægloriæ, quamvis uno libro meruit.” Many of the early Christian writersthought that his merits fully compensated for the obscurity of hisstyle; and Gifford[1059] observes, “The virtue he recommends hepractised in the fullest extent; and, at an age when few have acquired adeterminate character, he left behind him an established reputation forgenius, learning, and worth.”

The works of Persius are comprised within the compass of six Satires,containing, in all, about 650 lines. And from the expression ofQuintilian, already cited, and supported by a passage of Martial, thereis reason to suppose that all he wrote is now extant. To his Satires isprefixed a short but spirited introduction in choliambics, _i. e._ lameiambics, in which, for the iambus in the sixth place, there issubstituted a spondee.

This proëmium bears but little relation to his work; but he wasaccustomed to similar irrelevancy in the parabases of the old Atticcomedy, which he had studied. In his first Satire he exposes andaccounts for the false and immoral taste which affected poetry andforensic eloquence, attacks the coxcombry of public recitation, andparodies the style of contemporary writers, in language which ourignorance of them prevents us from appreciating. In the second, which isa congratulatory address to his dear friend Macrinus on his birthday, heimbodies the subject-matter of the second Alcibiades of Plato;[1060] adialogue which Juvenal also had in view in the composition of his tenthSatire. In this poem, the degrading ideas which men have formedrespecting the Deity, the consequent selfishness and even impiety oftheir prayers, are followed by sentiments on the true nature of prayer,which even a Christian can read with admiration:—

 Quin damus id superis, de magna quod dare lance Non possit magni Messalæ lippa propago; Compositum jus fasque animo sanctosque recessus Mentis et incoctum generoso pectus honesto: Hæc cedo, ut admoveam templis, et farre litabo.[1061]

 No, let me bring the immortals what the race Of great Messala, now depraved and base, On their huge charger cannot,—bring a mind Where legal and where moral sense are joined With the pure essence; holy thoughts that dwell In the soul’s most retired and sacred cell; A bosom dyed in honour’s noblest grain— Deep-dyed;—with these let me approach the fane, And Heaven will hear the humble prayer I make, Though all my offering be a barley-cake.

In the third, he endeavours to shame the ingenuous youth out of an idleaversion to the pursuit of wisdom, and contrasts the enjoyments of awell-regulated mind with ignorance and sensuality: the picture which hedraws of the fate of the sensualist is very powerful:—

 Turgidus hic epulis atque albo ventre lavatur, Gutture sulfureas lente exhalante mephites; Sed tremor inter vina subit, calidumque trientem Excutit e manibus; dentes crepuere retecti; Uncta cadunt laxis tunc pulmentaria labris. Hinc tuba, candelæ; tandemque beatulus, alto Compositus lecto, crassisque lutatus amomis, In portam rigidos calces extendit; at illum Hesterni capite induto subiere Quirites.[1062]

 Now to the bath, full gorged with luscious fare, See the pale wretch his bloated carcass bear; While from his lungs, that faintly play by fits, His gasping throat sulphureous steam emits! Cold shiverings seize him, as for wine he calls, His grasp betrays him, and the goblet falls! From his loose teeth the lip, convulsed, withdraws, And the rich cates drop through his listless jaws. Then trumpets, torches come, in solemn state; And my fine youth, so confident of late, Stretched on a splendid bier and essenced o’er, Lies, a stiff corpse, heels foremost at the door; Romans of yesterday, with covered head, Shoulder him to the pyre, and—all is said. _Gifford._

One more quotation must be made from this noble Satire, which is alludedto by St. Augustine,[1063] and in which Persius enunciates the sublimetruth, that the most fearful punishment which can befall the profligateis the consciousness of what they have lost in rejecting virtue:—

 Magne pater divûm, sævos punire tyrannos Haud alia ratione velis, quum dira libido Moverit ingenium ferventi tincta veneno; Virtutem videant intabescantque relicta![1064]

 Dread sire of gods! when lust’s envenomed stings Stir the fierce natures of tyrannic kings— When storms of rage within their bosoms roll, And call in thunder for thy just control— O, then relax the bolt, suspend the blow, And thus, and thus alone, thy vengeance show. In all her charms, set Virtue in their eye, And let them see their loss, despair, and—die. _Gifford._

In the fourth Satire, Nero is represented in the character ofAlcibiades; and Plato’s first Dialogue, which bears the name of theAthenian Libertine, furnished the foundation and many of the sentiments.

The fifth is the most elaborate of all the poet’s works. It is addressedto Cornutus, and is in the form of a dialogue between the philosopherand his pupil. The style is more finished than usual, and more adornedwith the graces of poetry; his amiable nature beams forth in all thewarmth of a grateful heart; and although he does not display anyoriginal philosophical research, he exhibits great learning, and anaccurate acquaintance with the Stoic philosophy.

If the fifth Satire is the most elaborate, the sixth is, without doubt,the most delightful of the works of Persius. It is addressed to his dearfriend Cæsius Bassus, and overflows with kindness of heart. The poetspeaks of the duties of contentment, and of ministering to thedistresses of others; the hatefulness of envy; the meanness of avarice,beneath whatever disguise it may be veiled; his own determination to useand not abuse his fortune; whilst there may be traced through the wholea foreboding, yet a cheerful one, that his weary course will soon berun, and that his heir will soon succeed to his possessions.[1065]

Such was the character of Persius as mirrored in his little volume. Thegloomy sullenness of Stoicism was not able to destroy the naturalamiability and placid cheerfulness of his temper. Its darkness affectedhis style, but not his disposition. The fault which has been universallyfound with the style of Persius, is difficulty and obscurity. This wouldbe the natural consequence of his Stoical education. The Stoics wereproverbially obscure and dark in their teaching; and Persius, who hadnot imbibed all the profoundness of their philosophy, had still caughttheir language and their manner of expression, and whilst he wasinfected by their faults he acquired also their picturesqueness andliveliness of illustration. Nor does it appear that his style wasconsidered obscure enough by his contemporaries to interfere with itspopularity. It is probable that his obscurity is not absolute, but onlyrelative to the knowledge of the language possessed in modern times. Hiswas the conversational Latin of the days in which he lived; and as agreat change had taken place from the Latin of Cicero and Livy to thatof Tacitus and Seneca, doubtless the conversational Latin of Horace, andeven of Juvenal, would differ from that of Persius. If this be the case,the Satires of Persius constitute the only example of this Latin, and wehave no other by a comparison of which we can explain and illustrate hismodes of expression. Whatever, therefore, is unusual becomes at once asource of difficulty and obscurity.[1066] The short description whichPersius represents his preceptor as giving of his style, supports thisassertion:—

 Verba togæ sequeris junctura callidus acri Ac teres modico, pallentes radere mores Doctus et ingenuo culpam defigere ludo.[1067]

 Confined to common life, thy numbers flow, And neither soar too high, nor sink too low; There strength and ease in graceful union meet, Though polished, subtle, and though poignant, sweet; Yet powerful to abash the front of crime, And crimson error’s cheek with sportive rhyme. _Gifford._

As the _toga_ had, since the time of Augustus, been only worn by thehigher orders, whilst the common people were content with the _tunica_,it is clear that the words _verba togæ_ signify the language of polishedsociety. One cause, therefore, of the difficulty of the style of Persiusmay be our want of familiarity with the conversational Latin used in histime by the superior classes. Excessive subtlety may have been mistakenfor refinement; and an affectation of philosophy, and an enigmaticalstyle, may cause obscurity to us which was quite intelligible to hiscontemporaries.

It is evident that Persius had carefully studied, and was quite wellacquainted with, the Satires of Horace; but the influence which Horaceproduced upon his mind went no further than to impress upon his memorycertain phrases which he reproduced in a more perplexed form, more inunison with the fashionable Latin of his day. The expression of Horace—

 —— naso suspendis _adunco_ Ignotos,[1068]

becomes, in the Satires of Persius—

 _Excusso_ populum suspendere naso.[1069]

 Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipse tibi ——,[1070]

becomes, when paraphrased by his imitator—

 Plorabit qui me volet incurvasse querela.[1071]

The simplicity of Horace in the words—

 Totus teres atque rotundus Externi ne quid valeat per læve morari,[1072]

is exchanged for the more involved phrase—

 Ut per læve severos Effundat junctura ungues.[1073]

He adopts Horace’s wish,[1074] preserving every idea in the passage—

 —— O si Sub rastro crepet argenti mihi seria dextro Herculæ.[1075]

Horace’s acquirements in geometry—

 Scilicet ut possem curvo dignoscere rectum,[1076]

are thus awkwardly rendered—

 —— rectum discernis, ubi inter Curva subit.[1077]

And, not to multiply examples which, whilst they show that Persius wasan admirer of Horace, prove that what was pure, natural inspiration inthe latter, required effort in the former. The idea of Horace—

 Clamant periisse _pudorem_ Cuncti pene patres,[1078]

is exchanged by Persius for the forced metaphor——

 Exclamet Melicerta perisse _Frontem_ de rebus.[1079]

Rhetorical affectation infected all the literature of this age; we canscarcely, therefore, be surprised to find that it is one of thecharacteristics of the Satires of Persius. The age of public recitationhad already begun, of which Juvenal speaks some years later. When in oneplace he describes the ardour and enthusiasm which pervaded Rome, on theannouncement of a new work by a popular author[1080]—

 Curritur ad vocem jucundam et carmen amicæ Thebaidos lætam fecit cum Statius urbem Promisitque diem!

 When Statius fixed a morning to recite His Thebaid to the town with what delight They flocked to him!

In another,[1081] like Horace, he complains of the annoyance of theserecitations; and in a third,[1082] he considers it one of the causeswhich rendered the most desolate and solitary country-place preferableto Rome.

The style of writing, therefore, suitable to this practice, was adeclamatory one, as the practice itself was in accordance with theoratorical tastes of the Roman people.

 JUVENAL.

Decimus Junius Juvenalis, according to the few lines of biographygenerally attributed to Suetonius, was the son, or the adopted son, of awealthy freedman. He amused himself with rhetoric and declamation untilmiddle life; but having, on one occasion, written a short satire uponParis, the pantomime, he was tempted to apply himself to this species ofwriting. After some time he recited his piece with such success to alarge audience, that he inserted it in one of his latercompositions.[1083] He thus exposed himself to the enmity of the court,because his lines were supposed figuratively to apply to an actor whowas a court favourite, and he was exiled to Egypt, under pretence ofbeing appointed to the command of a cohort. There in a short time hedied of grief at the age of eighty.

The time of his birth is unknown, but he must have flourished in thereign of Domitian, towards the close of the first century after Christ;and it is generally assumed that he was either born, or resided, at theVolscian town which subsequently gave birth to the eminent schoolman,Thomas Aquinas.[1084] Thus the greater portion of the life of Juvenalwas passed during a period of political horror and misery. The shortreign of Vespasian was doubtless a blessing to Rome, but it was only abrief temporary respite: the dark period of the last ten Cæsars saw theutter moral degradation of the people, and the bloodiest tyranny andoppression on the part of their rulers. If, which is most probable, helived to see the reigns of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian, the spirits ofthe noble-minded satirist must have revived at seeing again a promise ofnational glory and prosperity. In the period gone by, rich as it was inmaterial for his pen, it was fatally perilous to give utterance to hisburning indignation; but an opportunity, not to be lost, was thenoffered when emperors ruled, who were distinguished for ability andvirtue, when justice and the laws were constitutionally administered,and the empire, wisely governed, enjoyed security and tranquillity.

The picture of Roman manners, as painted by the glowing pencil ofJuvenal, is truly appalling. The fabric of society was in ruins. Thepopular religion was rejected with scorn, and its place was not occupiedeven by the creed of natural religion. Nothing remained but the emptypomp, pageant and ceremonial. The administration of the state was a massof corruption: freedmen and foreigners, full of artful cunning, butdestitute of principle, had the ear of the sovereign, and filled theircoffers with bribes and confiscation. The grave and decent reserve whichwas characteristic of every Roman, in olden times, was thrown off evenby the higher classes; and emperors took a public part in scenes offolly and profligacy, and exposed themselves as charioteers, as dancers,and as actors. Nothing was respected but wealth—nothing provokedcontempt but poverty.[1085] A vote was only valued for its worth inmoney; that people, whose power was once absolute, would now sell theirsouls for bread and the Circensian games.

Players and dancers had all honours and offices at their disposal. Thecity swarmed with informers who made the rich their prey: every manfeared even his most intimate friend. To be noble, virtuous, innocent,was no protection: the only bond of friendship was to be an accomplicein crime. Philosophy was a cheat, and moral teaching an hypocrisy. Themoralists “preached like Curii, but lived like bacchanals.”[1086] Thevery teacher would do his best to corrupt his pupil: the guardian woulddefraud his ward. Luxury and extravagance brought men to ruin, whichthey sought to repair by flattering the childless, legacy-hunting, andgambling; and even patricians would cringe for a morsel of bread. Thehigher classes were selfish and cruel, grinding and insolent to theirinferiors and dependants.[1087] Gluttony was so disgusting that sixthousand sesterces (50_l._) would be given for a mullet; and the gluttonwould artificially relieve his stomach of its load, in order to preparefor another meal.[1088] Crimes which cannot be named were common: men,for the worst of purposes, endeavoured to make themselves look likewomen; and even an emperor personated a female, and was given inmarriage to one of his Greek favourites.[1089] The streets of Rome wereas dangerous as the Pomptine marshes or the Italian forests, fromconstant robbery, assault, and assassination.

The morals of the female sex were as depraved as those of men: ladies ofnoble and royal blood would have lovers in their pay, and when they hadlost the attraction of personal charms, would supply their place by thetemptation of gold. One empress publicly celebrated her nuptials with anadulterer in the absence of her lord; another gratified her wantonnessby prostitution. Even those who were not so profligate aped the mannersand habits of men, and would even meet in mock combat; and there was nopublic amusement so immoral or so cruel as not to be disgraced by thepresence of the female sex. Licentiousness led to murder; and poisoningby women was as common as it was in France and Italy in the sixteenthcentury.[1090]

Times like these would even have shocked the urbane and gentle Horace.Had he then lived, he would probably have thought such vice beyondridicule, and his tone might have approached more nearly to thethundering indignation of Juvenal. “Society in the age of Horace wasbecoming corrupt; in that of Juvenal it was in a state ofputrefaction.”[1091]

In this period of moral dearth the fountains of genius and literaturewere dried up. The orator dared not impeach the corrupt politician, ordefend the victim of tyranny, when every one thought the best way tosecure his own safety was by trampling on the fallen favourite, nowCæsar’s enemy.[1092] The historian dared not utter his real sentiments.Poetry grew cold without the genial, fostering encouragement of nobleand affectionate hearts. There was criticism, grammar, declamation,panegyric and verse-writing, but not oratory, history, or poetry.Juvenal, though himself not free from the declamatory affectation of theday, attacked the false literary taste of his contemporaries asunsparingly as he did their depraved morality. From Sejanus to Cluvienushe allowed no one to escape.

But noble as Juvenal’s hatred of vice must be allowed to be, andfearless as are his denunciations, we look in vain throughout his poetryfor indications of an amiable and kind-hearted disposition. He was notone to recall the lost and erring to a love of virtue, or to inspire apure and enthusiastic taste for literature. His prejudices were violent;he could see nothing good in a Greek or a freedman: he hated the newaristocracy with as bitter a hatred as Sallust. As a critic he isill-natured; as a moralist he is stern and misanthrophic. Mark, forexample, the gloomy bitterness with which he speaks of old age,[1093]and contrast it with the bright side of the picture, as drawn by thegentle Cicero in his incomparable treatise.

Deficient, however, as he was in the softer affections, his sixteenSatires exhibit an enlightened, truthful, and comprehensive view ofRoman manners, and of the inevitable result of such corruption. Thosewhose moral taste was utterly destroyed would read and listen withoutprofit, but they could not but tremble: his words are truth. Theconclusion of the thirteenth Satire is almost Christian. It isunnecessary to quote from an author who is in every scholar’s memory: itwould even occupy too much space to make a fair selection from so manyfine passages. The eleventh Satire is the most pleasing, and mostpartaking of the playfulness of Horace. The seventh displays thegreatest versatility and the richest fund of anecdote. The twelfth isthe most amiable. The description of the origin of civil society in theconclusion of the fifteenth is full of sound sense and just sentiments;whilst the way in which he speaks of the insane bigotry of theEgyptians, exhibits his power of combining pleasantry with dignity. Butthe two finest Satires are those[1094] which our own Johnson has thoughtworthy of imitation: one of which (the tenth) Bishop Burnet, in hisPastoral Charge, recommended to his clergy; and the noblest passage inthem is that which describes the fall of the infamous Sejanus.[1095] Fewmen could be so well adapted to transfer the spirit of Juvenal intoEnglish as Dr. Johnson. He had the same rude, plain-spoken,uncompromising hatred of vice; and, though not unamiable, did his bestto conceal what amiability he possessed under a forbidding exterior. Hewas not without gayety and sprightliness; but he concealed it under thatstateliness and declamatory grandeur which he attributes to Juvenal.

The historical value of Juvenal’s Satires must not be forgotten. Tacituslived in the same perilous times as he did; and when they had come to anend, and it was not unsafe to speak, he wrote their public history.Juvenal illustrates that history by displaying the social inner life ofthe Romans.[1096] Their works are parallel, and each forms a commentaryupon the other. When such were the lives of individuals, one cannotwonder at the fate of the nation.

The style of Juvenal is, generally speaking, the reflex of his mind: hisviews were strong and clear: his style is vigorous and lucid also. Hismorals were pure in the midst of a debased age: his language shinesforth in classic elegance in the midst of specimens of declining anddegenerate taste. His style is declamatory, but it is not artificiallyrhetorical. He could not restrain himself from following the example ofLucilius: he could not dam up the torrent of his vehement and naturaleloquence. Whether his subject is noble or disgusting, his word-paintingis perfect: we feel his sublimity—we shudder at his fidelity. The natureof the subject causes his language to be frequently gross and offensive;but his object always is to lay bare the deformity of vice, and torender it loathsome. He never indulges in indecency, in order to panderto a corrupt taste or to gratify a prurient imagination. For this reasonhis pages are less dangerous than those of more elegant and lessindecent writers, who throw a veil over indelicacy, whilst they leavethose qualities which blind the moral vision and inflame the passions.It must be remembered, also, that neither the dress, manners, norconversation of ancient Rome were so decent and modest as those ofmodern times; and, therefore, Roman taste would not be so shocked byplain speaking as would be the case in an age of greater socialrefinement. Juvenal closes the list of Roman satirists, properlyspeaking: the satirical spirit animates the piquant epigrams of hisfriend Martial; but their purpose is not moral or didactic: they stingthe individual, and render him an object of scorn and disgust, but theydo not hold up vice itself to ridicule and detestation.

 CHAPTER IV.

BIOGRAPHY OF LUCAN—INSCRIPTION TO HIS MEMORY—SENTIMENTS EXPRESSED IN THE

 PHARSALIA—LUCAN AN UNEQUAL POET—FAULTS AND MERITS OF THE PHARSALIA—CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS AGE—DIFFICULTIES OF HISTORICAL POETRY—LUCAN A DESCRIPTIVE POET—SPECIMENS OF HIS POETRY—BIOGRAPHY OF SILIUS ITALICUS—HIS CHARACTER BY PLINY—HIS POEM DULL AND TEDIOUS—HIS DESCRIPTION OF THE ALPS.

 M. ANNÆUS LUCANUS (BORN A. D. 39.)

At the head of the epic poets who flourished during the silver agestands Lucan. He was a member of the same family as the Senecas, for thesame rhetorician of that name was his grandfather, and the Stoicphilosopher his uncle. Another of his uncles, also, L. Junius Gallio, ismentioned in the Eusebian Chronicle as a celebrated rhetorician. ThisGallio derived his surname from being the adopted son of Jun. Gallio,who, by some, is supposed to have been the proconsul of Achaia,mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles.[1097]

The father of Lucan, M. Annæus Mela, was a Roman knight, who made alarge fortune as a collector of the imperial revenue. He is supposed bysome to have been identical with the geographer Pomponius Mela, who wasthe author of a brief description, in three books, of the coasts ofEurope, Asia, and Africa. The style of this writer is concise, as issuitable to a mere sketch or abridgment; and his matter, althoughderived from other sources, and not from personal observation, isaccurate and interesting. The poet was born at Corduba (Cordova,) on thebeautiful banks of the Bætis (Guadalquiver.) His birthplace is thuselegantly alluded to by Statius, in a poem addressed to his widow, onthe anniversary of his birth:—

 Vatis Apollinei magno memorabilis ortu Lux redit, Aonidum turba favete sacris. Hæc meruit, cum te terris Lucane dedisset Mixtus Castaliæ Bætis ut esset aquæ. _Stat. Genethl._

Pliny tells us that on his infant lips, as on those of Hesiod, a swarmof bees settled, and thus gave presage of his poetical career; a talewhich owes its origin entirely to the Greek tradition. Much which restsupon no foundation has been mixed up with the extant lives of Lucan; forexample, the favour shown to him, whilst a child, by Nero; hisconsequent elevation in his boyhood to the rank of a senator; and hisdefeat of the emperor in a poetical contest at the quinquennial games,instituted by the latter, in which no one entered with any other viewthan that their royal antagonist might have the credit of a mockvictory.[1098] The enmity of the jealous emperor can be accounted forwithout having recourse to so insane a competition.

It is probable that Lucan was very young when he came to Rome; that hisliterary reputation was soon established; and that Nero, who could notbear the idea of a rival, forbade him to recite his poems, which was nowthe common mode of publication. Nor was he content with silencing him asa poet, but also would not allow him to plead as an advocate.[1099]Smarting under this provocation he hastily joined a conspiracy againstthe emperor’s life, and signalized himself by the bitterness of hishatred against his powerful enemy. The ringleader of this plot wasPiso,[1100] a tragic poet of some talent, a skilful orator, and amunificent man. But he was deficient in decision and infirm of purpose:the plot therefore failed. When Lucan’s passion cooled he as quicklyrepented, and was pardoned on condition of pointing out hisconfederates. In the vain hope of saving himself from the monster’svengeance, he actually impeached his mother. The upright historiancontrasts this stain on the poet’s character with the courage whichEpicharis displayed. This noble woman was incapable of treason. Tacitusdescribes the resolution with which she scorned the question.[1101] “Thescourge, the flames, the rage of the executioners, who tortured her themore savagely, lest they should be scorned by a woman, were powerless toextort a false confession.” Lucan never received the reward which hepurchased by treachery. The warrant for his death was issued, and hecaused his veins to be cut asunder. As the stream of his life’s bloodflowed away, he repeated from his own poem the description of a soldierexpiring from his wounds.[1102] He died in the twenty-seventh year ofhis age; and the following inscription to his memory has been attributedto Nero:—

 M. Annæo Lucano Cordubensi Poetæ Beneficio Neronis. Fama servata.

The sentiments contained in the Pharsalia, so far as he dared expressthem, breathe a love of freedom, and an attachment to the old Romanrepublicanism. Although the imperial patronage which he at firstenjoyed, and, perhaps, the better promise of the commencement of Nero’sreign, tempted him to indulge in courtly flattery; still, even at thattime, his praises of liberty evidently came from the heart. As the poemproceeds his sentiments become more exalted; his virtuous indignationgradually rises, until it pours forth a torrent of burning satire on theinhuman tyrant. This poem, the only one of his works which survives, isan epic in ten books; its subject, the civil war between Cæsar andPompey. It bears evident marks of having been left unfinished, and ofnot having received the last touches from the hand of the author. It waspreceded by four other shorter poems—the first on the Death of Hector;the second on the Visit of Orpheus to the Infernal Regions; the third,on the Burning of Rome; the fourth addressed to his wife PollaArgentaria. He also wrote some prose works; and Martial attributes tohim some poems on lighter subjects.[1103]

Lucan is an unequal poet: his Pharsalia is defaced with great faults andblemishes; but at the same time it possesses peculiar beauties. Itssubject is a noble one and full of historic interest, and is treatedwith spirit, brilliance, and animation. Its arrangement is that ofannals, and therefore it wants the unity of an epic poem: it has not theconnectedness of history, because the poet naturally selected only themost striking and romantic incidents; and yet, notwithstanding thesedefects in the plan, the historical pictures themselves are beautifullydrawn. The characters of Cæsar and Pompey, for example, aremaster-pieces. Again, some passages have neither the dignity of prosenor the melody of poetry; whilst others are scarcely inferior to anywritten by the best Latin poets. This inequality has caused the greatdiversity of opinions which have been held by critics respecting themerits of Lucan. Some have unjustly depreciated him; others, asgroundlessly, have lauded him to the skies. Quintilian commended hisardent enthusiasm and lucidity of expression,[1104] but qualified hispraise by adding, that he would be admired by orators rather than bypoets. Corneille preferred him to Virgil, of whom he was obviously awarm admirer. His poem furnishes materials and reason for this diversityof judgment; but it may safely be asserted that his faults are due tothe age in which he lived, whilst his beauties were the fruits anddevelopments of his own native genius. His principal merit isoriginality: although he was not great enough to lead the taste of theage, and to rise superior to its false principles, he did not condescendto be a servile imitator even of those poets whose reputation was firmlyestablished. There are many parallelisms between his poetry and that ofVirgil, but they are the parallelisms of a student, not of a plagiarist.

Without adopting the unauthorized assumptions, found in some of hisbiographies, that he was educated under the immediate superintendence ofhis uncle Seneca, that Remmius Palæmon taught him grammar, VirginiusFlaccus rhetoric, and Cornutus philosophy, it is clear that his tastewas formed and his talents drawn out in an age, the characteristics ofwhich were pedantic erudition, inflated rhetoric, and dogmaticphilosophy. It is clear, also, that even though Seneca was not histutor, still the conceit and affectation which dimmed the transcendentabilities of the philosopher, exercised a baneful influence over theliterary taste of his contemporaries. In the midst of these influencesLucan was educated, and for that reason his poem is disfigured bycommonplace maxims, pompous diction, an affectation of learning, arhetorical exuberance which outstripped its subjects, and thereforeproduces the effect of frigidity. In a poem, the characters and eventsof which are historical, the real is in too strong contrast to theideal, hence the effect of both is marred. The fidelity expected of thehistorian circumscribes the creative power of the poet. To the poet whoconstructs his work out of the materials of epochs which are beyond thereach of history, the whole field of the past is open. The only limitswithin which he must restrain his genius are those of the probable:within these bounds he may conjure up the most magnificent ideal forms;he may use the most gorgeous imagery, the most supernatural machinery:the whole wears an air of historic truth; as there are no realities withwhich his ideal can be compared and tested, truth never appears to beviolated.

But in history, almost contemporaneous with the age of the poet, everycircumstance is recorded, every character well known and estimated. Ifan act of bravery is exaggerated into one of superhuman heroism, or onewho is known to have been a man, although a great man, recast in theheroic mould, we are struck at once with the falsehood: and thereforethe poet cannot venture on such efforts of genius. In a train of events,which the page of history enables us to trace from the beginning to theend, no difficulties can occur deserving of supernatural machinery, no_dignus vindice nodus_; and thus, in the place of the Olympian Pantheonof Homer and Virgil, Lucan can only deify the popular but unpoeticalprinciple of chance, and personify Fortune.

This position may appear inconsistent with the charm which confessedlybelongs to the modern historical romance; but then it is to beremembered, that the interest we take in the historical portions ispurely historical, enlivened by the events grouping themselves round thehero: in fact, the interest of biography is united with that of history.The strictest accuracy, therefore, in matters which fall within therange of history is perfectly compatible. The romantic interest dependson the inner or social life of the characters—which forms no part ofhistory—in which, as there is no standard of comparison, the imaginationof the poet is quite free and unfettered. But this is totally differentfrom the plan on which such a poem as the Pharsalia is constructed. Thevision of the genius of Rome which appeared to Cæsar at the fatalRubicon, those which haunt the slumbers of the Cæsareans in theplundered camp of Pompey, and the dream of Pompey, in which the secretsof the infernal regions are laid open by the shade of his departed wifeJulia, are the nearest approaches to that invisible world which theimagination of Homer disclosed, and which Virgil reproduced;[1105] butthese are only isolated passages.

It is impossible to be at once an historian and a poet: in the onecharacter the author must restrain the flights of his imagination; inthe other, he must sacrifice truth. Nor is there any doubt of whichcharacter we demand the conservation, when matters of history areconcerned. We desiderate truth: we wish moot points to be settled anddoubts solved. All imaginative pictures we look upon as interruptions,and cast them aside as warping the judgment and giving prejudiced views.Hence, our admiration of Lucan is called forth, not by considering hispoem as an epic, but for the sake of isolated scenes, such as the navalvictory off Marseilles; splendid descriptions, such as that of thecruelties of Marius and Sulla; felicitous comparisons, that, forexample, of Pompey to an aged oak; and the epigrammatic terseness whichgives force, as well as beauty, to his sayings. In a single line, forinstance—

 Pauperiorque fuit tunc primum Cæsare Roma—

he describes the wealth and avarice of the conqueror, and in thewell-known verse—

 Victrix causa Diis placuit sed victa Catoni—

he depicts the disinterestedness of Cato. To this may be added, that thesubject of the Pharsalia is, although a period of the deepest historicalinterest, ill adapted to poetry. Events so nearly contemporary werefitter for history and panegyric than for poetry; and although they givescope for descriptive power and bold imagery, they are deficient in thatmysterious and romantic character which is required for an epic poem.His imagination was rich—his enthusiasm refused to be curbed. They weresuch as we might suppose would be nurtured by the warm and sunny climateof Spain. His sentiments often exhibit that chivalrous tone whichdistinguishes the Spanish poets of modern times. We may discern thenobleness, the liberality, the courage, which once marked the high-bornSpanish gentleman; and the grave and thoughtful wisdom which makesSpanish literature so rich in proverbs, and which peeps out even fromunder the unreal conventionalisms of the contemporary Roman philosophy.

Description forms the principal feature in the poetry of Lucan; itoccupies more than one half of the Pharsalia; so that it might almost asappropriately be termed a descriptive as an epic poem. Description, infact, constitutes one of the characteristic features of Roman literaturein its decline, because poetry had more than ever become an art, and theepoch one of erudition; and thus a treasure of imagery was stored upsuitable for descriptive embellishment. The finest parts of Persius aredescriptive: even Martial, brief though his pieces are, delights in it;and facility in this department is the strong point of Silius Italicus,and the sole merit of Valerius Flaccus. Owing to the enthusiasm withwhich Lucan throws himself into this kind of writing, he abounds inminute detail. He reminds one of the descriptive talent possessed in soeminent a degree by our own Thomson. Not a feature escapes his notice,whether it suggest ideas of the beautiful, the sublime, or the terrible.He is not content, as Virgil is, with a sketch—with broad lights andshadows; he delights in a finished picture; he possesses the power ofplacing his subject strongly before the eyes, leaving little or nothingfor the imagination to supply. He omits no means of attainingdescriptive truth;[1106] the inward state of feeling, the character ofeach passion, is presented, not so much in its moral and psychical as inits physical developments; that which is internal is exhibited in itsexternal symptoms, with the hand of a painter and the skill of thephysiognomist. Virgil sketches, Lucan paints; the latter describesphysically—the former philosophically. The following passages, whichdescribe the passage of the Rubicon and the death of Pompey, are noblespecimens of Lucan’s style:—

 Jam gelidas Cæsar cursu superaverat Alpes, Ingentesque animo motus, bellumque futurum Ceperat. Ut ventum est parvi Rubiconis ad undas, Ingens visa duci patriæ trepidantis imago, Clara per obscuram vultu mœstissima noctem Turrigero canos effundens vertice crines, Cæsarie lacera, nudisque adstare lacertis, Et gemitu permixta loqui! Quo tenditis ultra? Quo fertis mea signa, viri? Si jure venitis, Si cives, huc usque licet. Tunc perculit horror Membra ducis, riguere comæ, gressumque coercens Languor in extrema tenuit vestigia ripa.

 * * * * *

 Cæsar ut adversam superato gurgite ripam Attigit, Hesperiæ vetitis et constitit arvis, Hic, ait, hic, pacem, temerataque jura relinquo; Te, Fortuna, sequor; procul hinc jam fœdera sunto. Credidimus fatis, utendum est judice bello.

 Now Cæsar, marching swift with winged haste, The summits of the frozen Alps had past; With vast events and enterprises fraught, And future wars revolving in his thought. Now near the banks of Rubicon he stood; When lo! as he surveyed the narrow flood, Amidst the dusky horrors of the night, A wondrous vision stood confessed to sight. Her awful head Rome’s reverend image reared, Trembling and sad the matron form appeared; A towering crown her hoary temples bound, And her torn tresses rudely hung around; Her naked arms uplifted ere she spoke, Then, groaning, thus the mournful silence broke: Presumptuous men! oh, whither do you run? Oh, whither bear you these my ensigns on? If friends to right, if citizens of Rome, Here to your utmost barrier are you come. She said; and sunk within the closing shade. Astonishment and dread the chief invade; Stiff rose his starting hair; he stood dismayed, And on the bank his slackening steps were stayed.

 * * * * *

 The leader now had passed the torrent o’er, And reached fair Italy’s forbidden shore; Then rearing on the hostile bank his head, Here farewell peace and injured laws! he said: Since faith is broke, and leagues are set aside, Henceforth thou, goddess Fortune, art my bride! Let fate and war the great event decide. _Rowe._

 Jam venerat horæ Terminus extremæ, Phariamque ablatus in alnum Perdiderat jam jura sui. Tum stringere ferrum Regia monstra parant. Ut vidit cominus enses Involvit vultus; atque indignatus apertum Fortunæ præbere caput, tunc lumina pressit, Continuitque animam, ne quas effundere voces Posset et æternam fletu corrumpere famam. At postquam mucrone latus funestus Achillas Perfodit, nullo gemitu consensit ad ictum.

 Now in the boat defenceless Pompey sat, Surrounded and abandoned to his fate. Nor long they hold him in their power aboard, E’en every villain drew his ruthless sword: The chief perceived their purpose soon, and spread His Roman gown, with patience, o’er his head; And when the cursed Achillas pierced his breast, His rising indignation close repressed. No signs, no groans, his dignity profaned, No tear his still unsullied glory stained. Unmoved and firm he fixed him on his seat, And died, as when he lived and conquered, great.

 C. SILIUS ITALICUS.

C. Silius Italicus was born in the reign of Tiberius, A. D. 25. Theplace of his birth is unknown. His surname, Italicus, has led some tosuppose that he was a native of Italica, in Spain. But it is notprobable that, if this were the case, his friend and fellow-courtierMartial, when he compared his eloquence to that of Cicero, and hispoetry to that of Virgil,[1107] called him the glory of the Castaliansisters,[1108] and felicitated him on his political honours, would haveforgotten to claim him as a countryman. Others, with somewhat more showof reason, have imagined that his birthplace was the city of Corfinium,in Pelignia, which was called Italica,[1109] because it was thehead-quarters of the confederates in the social war; whilst Stephensmentions a little town in Sicily, of the same name, which might havebeen his native place.[1110]

Silius was celebrated as an advocate; but in that age of affected andrhetorical display, a high reputation does not prove that his eloquence,although it might have displayed a similar elegance of language, wasmore lively and stirring than his poetry. He was consul A. D. 68; anoffice which was also filled by his son,[1111] and by another member ofhis family.[1112] He was afterwards proconsul of Asia; the duties ofwhich lucrative office he appears to have performed with credit tohimself. He was very wealthy; and, as he grew old, retired from theperils of public life to enjoy his affluence, and the retirement ofliterary ease in his numerous villas. One cannot be surprised that anorator and a poet especially delighted in the house of Virgil, nearNaples, and the Academy of Cicero, of both which he was the fortunatepossessor. He lived to the age of seventy-five, and then starved himselfto death, because he could not bear the pain of disease. “I have justbeen informed,” writes Pliny the Younger, to his friend Caninius,[1113]“that Silius Italicus has put an end to his existence by starvation, athis Neapolitan villa. He had an incurable carbuncle, from the annoyanceof which he took refuge in death, with a firm and irrevocable constancy.He enjoyed happiness and prosperity to his dying day, if we except theloss of the younger of his two sons; but the elder and superior onesurvived him in the enjoyment of prosperity, and even of consular rank.The belief that he had voluntarily come forward as a public accuserinjured his reputation in the reign of Nero; but, as a friend ofVitellius, his conduct was wise and his behaviour courteous. His careerin the proconsulate of Asia was an honourable one, for he washed out thestain of his former activity by a praiseworthy abstinence from publicaffairs. He had no influence with the great; but then he was safe fromenvy. All courted him, and were assiduous in paying their respects tohim; and as ill health confined him to his bed, his chamber was throngedwith visitors, beyond what might have been expected from his rank andstation. Whenever he could spare time for writing, he passed it inlearned conversation. His poems display elaborate care rather thangenius: sometimes he invited criticism by recitations. Yielding to thesuggestion of advancing years, he at length retired from Rome, andresided in Campania; nor had the accession of a new emperor (Trajan)power to entice him from his retirement. High praise to the monarchunder whose rule he was free to act so!—high praise to him who hadcourage to use that freedom! His love of virtù caused in him areprehensible passion for buying: he was the possessor of more than onevilla in the same localities; and he so delighted in the newest purchaseas to neglect that which he inhabited before. He had a vast collectionof books, besides statues and busts, which he not only possessed, butalmost worshipped. He kept Virgil’s birthday more religiously than hisown, and had more busts of him than any one else, especially at Naples,where he was in the habit of visiting his tomb, as if it were a temple.In this tranquil retirement he exceeded his seventy-fifth year, hisconstitution being delicate rather than weakly. As he was the lastconsul made by Nero, so he died the last of those whom he had made. Itis also worthy of remark that the consul, in whose year of office Nerodied, died the last of Nero’s consuls. When I call this to mind, I feelcompassion for human frailty: for what is so brief as the longest spanof human life!”

Little interest attaches to the biography of one who owed a life ofuninterrupted prosperity to his being the favourite and intimate of twoemperors; the one, a blood-thirsty tyrant—the other, a grosssensualist.[1114] His ponderous work survives—the dullest and mosttedious poem in the Latin language. Its title is “_Punica_:” it consistsof seventeen books, and contains a history in heroic verse of the secondPunic war. The Æneid of Virgil was his model, and the narrative of Livyfurnished his materials. Niebuhr states that he read through the wholeof his works with great care, and that he was quite convinced that hehad taken every thing from Livy, of whose work his is only aparaphrase.[1115] The criticism of Pliny the Younger is, upon the whole,just: “_Scribebat carmina majori cura quam ingenio_;” for, although itis impossible to read his poem with pleasure as a whole, hisversification is harmonious, and will often, in point of smoothness,bear comparison with that of Virgil. The following passage is quoted byC. Barthius as one of the most favourable specimens of his sentimentsand style; and Cellarius, whose praise is extravagantly fulsome, givesit the epithet of “Aurea:”—

 Ipsa quidem virtus sibimet pulcherrima merces; Dulce tamen venit ad manes quem gloria vitæ Durat apud superos, nec edunt oblivia laudem.

Some of his episodes, if considered as separate pieces, will repay thetrouble of perusal; and the following passage, which Addison thoughtworthy of translation, may be taken as a fair specimen of hisdescriptive powers:—

 THE ALPS.

 Cuncta gelu canâque æternum grandine tecta, Atque ævi glaciem cohibent: riget ardua montis Ætherii facies, surgentique obvia Phœbo Duratas nescit flammis mollire pruinas. Quantum Tartareus regni pallentis hiatus Ad manes imos atque atræ stagna paludis A supera tellure patet; tam longa per auras Erigitur tellus et cœlum intercipit umbrà. Nullum ver usquam, nullique æstatis honores; Sola jugis habitat diris sedesque tuetur Perpetuas deformis hyems: illa undique nubes Huc atras agit et mixtos cum grandine nimbos. Nam cuncti flatus ventique furentia regna Alpinâ posuere domo caligat in altis Obtutus saxis, abeuntque in nubila montes.

 Stiff with eternal ice, and hid in snow, That fell a thousand centuries ago, The mountain stands; nor can the rising sun Unfix her frosts and teach them how to run: Deep as the dark infernal waters lie From the bright regions of the cheerful sky, So far the proud ascending rocks invade Heaven’s upper realms, and cast a dreadful shade. No spring, no summer, on the mountain seen, Smiles with gay fruits or with delightful green, But hoary winter, unadorned and bare, Dwells in the dire retreat and freezes there, There she assembles all her blackest storms, And the rude hail or rattling tempests forms; Thither the loud tumultuous winds resort, And on the mountain keep their boisterous court, That in thick showers her rocky summit shrouds, And darkens all the broken view with clouds. _Addison._

 CHAPTER V.

C. VALERIUS FLACCUS—FAULTS OF THE ARGONAUTICA—PAPINIUS STATIUS—BEAUTY OF

HIS MINOR POEMS—INCAPABLE OF EPIC POETRY—DOMITIAN—EPIGRAM—MARTIAL—HIS BIOGRAPHY—PROFLIGACY OF THE AGE IN WHICH HE LIVED—IMPURITY OF HIS WRITINGS—FAVOURABLE SPECIMENS OF HIS POETRY.

 C. VALERIUS FLACCUS.

C. Valerius Flaccus flourished in the reign of Vespasian; and, accordingto an epigram of Martial, in which the poet advises his friend to leavethe Muses for the drier but more profitable profession of a pleader, hewas born at Patavium[1116] (Padua.) The frequent addition of thesurnames Setinus Balbus have caused it to be supposed that he was anative of Setia, in Campania (Sezzo;) but it is impossible to form anysatisfactory conjecture as to their signification, and the statement ofMartial is too definite to admit of a doubt. Quintilian[1117] assertsthat, when he wrote, V. Flaccus had _lately_ died: he was, therefore,probably cut off prematurely about A. D. 88.

His only poem which is extant is entitled “_Argonautica_,” and is animitation, and, in some parts, a translation, of the Greek poem ofApollonius Rhodius on the same subject. It is addressed to the Emperor,and in the proëmium he pays a compliment to Domitian on his poetry, andto Titus on his victories over the Jews.

He evidently did not live to complete his original design: even theeighth book is unfinished; and, from the events still remaining to berelated, he probably planned an epic poem of the same length as that ofVirgil, whose style and versification he endeavoured to imitate. AnItalian poet, John Baptista Pius, continued the subject, by an additionto the eighth book, and by subjoining two more, the incidents of whichwere partly borrowed from Apollonius.

Of his merits Quintilian speaks favourably in the passage alreadyalluded to, and says, that in him literature had sustained a severeloss. The severer criticism of Scaliger is more precise and morejudicious:—“Immaturâ morte præreptus acerbum item poëma suum nobisreliquit. Est autem omnino duriusculus, penitus vero nudus Gratiarumcomitate.” The defects of the Argonautica are, in fact, rather of anegative than a positive character. There are no glaring faults orblemishes; none of the affectation or rhetorical artifices which belongto the period of the decline. There may be a little occasional hardness,and a few awkward expressions and paraphrases, but there is no bombastto outrage good taste, and no unmetrical cadences to offend the ear. Butthere is no genius, no inspiration, no thrilling fervour, no thoughtsthat breathe or words that burn. He never rises above a dead level.Every thing is in accordance with decent and direct propriety. He hassome talent as a descriptive poet: his versification is harmonious, andhe attains to those superficial excellencies which are found in theprize poem of a pains-taking, ingenious, and well-educated scholar.Virgil was an imitator: that is, his taste, like Roman taste,universally was formed and trained by imitation; but his spiritdisdained these trammels, and soared to originality. V. Flaccus isscarcely ever original except when he is commonplace: he imitates Virgilsuccessfully, as far as the outward graces of style are concerned; butin the charm of natural simplicity, he always falls short of his greatoriginal.

 P. PAPINIUS STATIUS (BORN A. D. 61.)

Towards the middle of the first century of the Christian era,[1118]there arrived at Rome, from Naples, a grammarian, named P. PapiniusStatius. He opened a school, and soon became so celebrated as a publicinstructor, that he became tutor to the young Domitian, whose favour andaffection continued after he became emperor. Some of his fame was alsofounded on gaining, in his boyhood, the prize in many public contests ofpoetry. Every year between the age of thirteen and nineteen, he is saidto have been crowned. These contests were partly of an improvisatorialcharacter; and in an age when public readings and recitations were invogue, and were the means which poets had of gaining fame and patronage,success of this kind was highly valued. The subject of one of his poemsis said to have been the conflagration of the Capitol, during thestruggle between the Vitellians and the supporters of Vespasian.[1119]Statius, however, seems to have possessed no higher degree of poeticalpower than a happy facility in versification, for he died[1120] and leftno works which have stood the test of time.

A son, however, inherited poetical talents of the same kind, but of afar higher order than those of his father, and although, for a longtime, he was entirely dependent upon his works for the means of living,and, notwithstanding thunders of applause, must starve, unless he cansell his play to the manager Paris,[1121] the sunshine of imperialfavour, which his father had enjoyed, shone upon him.[1122] He purchasedpatronage, however, at the expense of grossly flattering the tyrant.This son, who bore the same name as his father, was the author of theSilvæ, Thebaid, and Achilleid. He was born A. D. 61, and died in theprime of life, A. D. 95, at Naples, his native city. As no interestingparticulars are recorded respecting his life, and as he is nevermentioned by any classical author except Juvenal,[1123] it is impossibleto say how the opinion arose which was entertained by his admirer Dante,and others, that he was in secret a defender of the Christians, and alsohimself a believer.[1124]

He was a true Italian in the character of his genius. He had a thoroughperception of the beauties of nature. His Silvæ are full of truthfulpictures. He possessed ready facility in versification, which wassurpassed by no poet of classic antiquity except Ovid, and thatimprovisatorial power for which his countrymen in the present day are sooften celebrated. As long as he was content to be a poet on a smallscale he was eminently successful. His Sylvæ contain many poeticalincidents which might stand by themselves as perfect fugitivepieces,—brief effusions, suggested by statues[1125] and buildings,[1126]verses of compliment[1127] and delicate flattery,[1128] orcondolence[1129] or congratulation. It matters not how light or triflingthe subject, he can raise it and adorn it. He writes with equal beautyon the tree of his friend Atedius;[1130] the death of a parrot; of theemperor’s lion;[1131] the locks of Flavius Earinus;[1132] the rudefreedom of the Saturnalia.[1133] It is in these unpretending poems thatwe see his natural and unaffected elegance, his harmonious ear, and histruthfulness of perception. But the case is totally different when thesubject is above him.[1134] He had neither grasp of mind, nor vigour ofimagination, to fit him for the task of an epic poet; and, hence, hisgreat work, the Thebaid, and his other unfinished epic, the Achilleid,are complete failures.

In his minor poems he seems to trust to the natural powers of hisgenius; he never strains at producing effect, nor is he too solicitousabout exact finish and laborious polish. Although not improvisatorial,they partake of that character, and have all its freshness combined withthe advantage of written and corrected performances. His thoughts areinspired by his subject; and its reality, which he was capable ofappreciating, gives a life to his compositions. But the principal faultin his Silvæ is too great a display of Greek learning. Every page isfull of mythological allusions, which sometimes render his gracefulverses dry and wearisome, and must have rendered them acceptable tothose only who were well versed in Greek literature: they never couldhave been universally popular. The qualities which recommended his Silvædo not adorn his epic poetry. His imaginary heroes do not inspire andwarm his imagination: he is not affected by their personality in thesame way in which he is by the lawns and groves, and sun, and forests,and skies of Italy.

For this deficiency he attempts to compensate by extravagant bombast,totally out of keeping with the action of the poem, and by an attentionto the theoretical principles of art, and an elaborate finish which musthave cost him many hours of toil. Yet this perseverance is thrown away,and the effect produced by the contrast between the action and essenceof the poem, and the language in which it is externally clothed,produces an effect contrary to that which was intended.

He was a skilful draughtsman, a gorgeous colourist, a pleasinglandscape-painter, and a diligent student of the rules of art; but hisgenius could not rise to the highest departments of art—he could notgive the mind or the _morale_ to those characters whose externalfeatures he was so apt in delineating. He owes the estimation in whichhe is held as an epic poet not to his absolute but his relative merit.He was the best of the heroic poets of his day. Statius, notwithstandinghis defects, was evidently a profound student as well as an admirer ofthe Homeric poems; and there are two points in which he has provedhimself a successful imitator. These are his battles and his similes.His descriptions of the former are stirring and dramatic, and some ofhis similes will bear comparison with the best Latin specimens of thiskind of illustration. When it is remembered that no epic poet hasapproached more nearly to Homer in the use of the simile than Dante, andthat he equals the Greek bard in sublime and picturesque description, itmay easily be imagined that these were the qualities in the poems ofStatius which especially called forth his admiration.

A few words only are necessary to describe the nature and subject-matterof the poems of Statius. The Silvæ consist of thirty-two separatepieces. They are all hexametrical, with the exception of four inhendecasyllabics,[1135] one in Alcaic,[1136] and one in Sapphicmetre.[1137] Each of the five books in which these poems are arrangedhas a prose dedication to some friend prefixed; the first beingaddressed to the poet Stella, the common friend of himself andMartial.[1138] The title Silvæ was given to these poems, on account ofthe very quality which constitutes their especial charm. They are therude materials of thought, springing up spontaneously in all their wildluxuriance from the rich natural soil of the poet’s imagination,unpruned, untrimmed, ignorant of that cultivated art which an affectedand artificial age thought necessary to constitute a finished poem.“Such extemporaneous performances as these,” says Quintilian, “arecalled Silvæ: the author subsequently re-examines and corrects hiseffusions.”[1139] The Thebaid is comprised in twelve books, and itssubject is the ancient Greek legends respecting the war of the Sevenagainst Thebes. The composition of this work preceded the publication ofthe Silvæ. Achilleid was intended, doubtless, to embrace all theexploits of Achilles, but only two books were completed.

 DOMITIAN.

A paraphrase of the Phænomena of Aratus belongs to this age. It has beenascribed to Germanicus, but its real author was Domitian, who, as wellas Nero, wrote verses.[1140] As far as language and versification areconcerned, it is not without merit; but the subject is unsuitable topoetry.[1141] Domitian had taste, although his talents did not deservethe adulatory commendations of Quintilian;[1142] but he encouragedlearned men: and to his encouragement we owe those distinguishedcontemporary writers who, for one generation, arrested the downwardprogress of Roman literature.

 EPIGRAM.

The Greek Epigram was originally, as the word implies, simply aninscription. It was therefore short and concise; its metre elegiac, asespecially suited to the periodic structure of the sentiment, and itscharacteristic qualities, terseness and neatness. So long as it retainedthis character it was free from bitterness; and the principal element ofsuccess in this species of composition was tact rather than genius, anda cultivated taste rather than poetical inspiration. Not only wereCatullus, Virgil, and Ovid epigrammatists, but some Roman _literati_,arrived at mediocrity, or even excellence, in epigram, who were notcapable of becoming great poets. Julius Cæsar wrote one on Terence, andperhaps the following neatly-turned lines; although they have beenascribed to Augustus and Germanicus:—

 Thrax puer astricto glacie dum ludit in Hebro Pondere concretas frigore rupit aquas; Dumque imæ partes rapido traherentur ab amne, Abscidit tenerum lubrica testa caput. Orba quod inventum mater dum conderet urna, Hoc peperi flammis, cetera, dixit, aquis.

Lutatius Catulus was the author of a quatrain on Roscius the comedian;and the Anthology, amongst numerous others, contains one byAugustus,[1143] and four of no merit by Mæcenas,[1144] together withthose beautiful lines addressed by Hadrian to his soul, which Pope hasimitated in his “Dying Christian:”—

 Animula vagula blandula, Hospes comesque corporis, Quæ nunc abibis in loca? Pallidula rigida nudula Nec ut soles dabis jocos.

To the original characteristics of epigram the Romans added that whichconstitutes an epigram in the modern sense of the term, pointednesseither in jest or earnest, and the bitterness of personal satire. Commonsense, shrewdness, and an acute observation of human nature were thussuperadded to Greek gracefulness and elegance; and the same nation whichreduced the wild and unpremeditated sarcasms of the Greek stage into thesymmetrical form of satire, produced also the epigram as written by thepen of Martial. The same characteristics of the Roman mind which marksatire are visible also in epigram. Epigram is the concentration ofsatire. The desultory vagueness which is allowable in the latter, thevariety of subjects, which are touched upon with irregular andunrestrained freedom, are, in the former, limited and defined. One ideais selected, and to this all the powers of the writer’s acute mind aredirected, and made to converge as to a point. It is not often that theharmless elements of Greek wit, such as the pun, or the pleasantry bysurprise or unexpected turn (although these sometimes occur,[1145]) arefound in the Roman epigram. Smartness is generally connected withseverity. The same bitter spirit which dictated the Archilochian epodesof Horace, which breathes throughout the indignant lines of Juvenal,points the shafts of Martial. The blows, however, which he aimed at vicecould not be deadly, because he had no faith in virtue, and because hedelighted to grovel in the impurity which he described.

 M. VALERIUS MARTIALIS (BORN A. D. 43.)

All that is known of the life of Martial is derived from his own works;and this is but little, for he says nothing of his early years, and didnot begin to write until the reign of Domitian. Of his parents heundutifully tells us that they were fools for teaching him toread.[1146] He was born at Bilbilis, a Spanish town in the province ofTarragon,[1147] of the position of which nothing is known for certain,except that its site was an elevated one,[1148] overlooking the riverSalo, which flowed round its walls. It appears to have prided itself onits manufactures in gold and iron;[1149] to have been particularlyfamous for its arms;[1150] and to have been one of the Roman coloniesdignified with the title of Augusta.[1151] As Vespasian had conferred onthe poet’s native town, in common with the rest of Spain, the _jusLatii_,[1152] Martial was by birth a Roman citizen; and in the days ofhis popularity obtained this privilege for many of his friends.[1153]His birthday was March 1,[1154] A. D. 43, the third year of the reign ofClaudius.

In the twenty-second year of his age, the twelfth year of the reign ofNero,[1155] he migrated to Rome. He was a great favourite of Titus andDomitian, by whom the “_jus trium liberorum_” was conferred uponhim,[1156] together with the rank of a Roman knight,[1157] and thehonorary title of tribune.[1158] In the reign of the latter he wasappointed to the office of court poet, and received a pension from theimperial treasury.[1159] Hence during the latter part of his residencein Rome it is almost certain that, although not rich, he enjoyed acompetency. He had a house in the city, and a little villa at Nomentumgiven him by Domitian.[1160] Nevertheless, he is constantly complainingof his poverty, and thinks that every one grows rich but himself. Helaments that poets receive nothing but compliments for their verses,whilst lawyers, and even common criers, gain an ample maintenance:—that“Minerva was a better patron than Apollo; a fuller stream of wealthflowed through the Forum than from the fountain of Helicon, or thechannel of Permessus.”[1161] He complains that he spends all he has, andeither borrows money from his friends, or takes to another the presentshe has given him, and querulously asks him to purchase them backagain.[1162] The roof of his villa lets in the rain; and when his friendStella sends him some tiles to mend it he reproaches him for not sendingalso a toga to protect the poor inmate.[1163]

All this may have proceeded from the discontented feelings which poetsand literary men so often indulge at seeing genius unrewarded, andaffluence attending talents which, although if not so high an order, areof more general utility. Perhaps, too, though not absolutely poor, hewas straitened in his circumstances, considering his social position andthe demands which this entailed upon him. During thirty-five years helived at Rome the life of a flatterer, and a dependant,[1164] and thenreturned to his native town.[1165] As Horace, when in his quiet countryretirement, sometimes regrets the enjoyments of the capital, althoughwhen at Rome he sighs for the pleasures of rural life, so Martial, whenat Rome, longed for Bilbilis, and when he returned to Bilbilis regrettedRome. At this late period of his life he married a Spanish lady, namedMarcella, whose property was amply sufficient to maintain him inaffluence. Her estate he considers a little kingdom; her gardens hewould not exchange for those of Alcinous; he praises her bowers, groves,fountains, streamlets, fish-ponds, and meadows; and tells us the climateis so genial that the olive-grounds are green in January, and the rosesblow twice in the year, like those of Pæstum.[1166] His wife he praisesfor her rare genius and sweet manners; he tells her that no one coulddiscover her provincial origin; that her equal could not be foundamongst the most elegant ladies in the capital; and when inclined toforget Rome she alone is all that Rome ever was to him:—

 Tu desiderium dominæ mihi mitius urbis Esse jubes; Romam tu mihi sola facis.[1167]

But, notwithstanding the delicate compliment which he pays to his richwife—a compliment dictated probably more by his habit of courtlyflattery than by sincerity of affection—he evidently pined for Rome. Hewas fitted for crowds and not for solitude: his spirit was not pureenough to commune with itself. His delight had been so long to study thehuman heart in its worst developments, to drag forth to public view itsblackest plague-spots, that he would miss the foul models which he hadso long studied. Provincial life was therefore utter dulness to him; hisonly enjoyment was to reproduce the results of his observations on thelife of the capital. Combining in himself the apparently inconsistentcharacters of the flatterer and the satirist, he needed great men towhom he might look up for patronage and approbation, as well as moralwounds to probe and subjects to anatomize. Rome alone supplied these;and when he lost them he lost the intellectual food necessary for hisexistence. The absence of his accustomed pursuits, and the irremediablevoid thus created, is evident in many of his epigrams.

The time of his death is uncertain, as the date of Pliny’s elegantepistle to Priscus, in which it is mentioned, cannot bedetermined.[1168] But as it is probable that the eleventh book of hisEpigrams was published in the year in which he left Rome for Bilbilis,and as he apologizes in the dedication of his twelfth book to Priscusfor his obstinate indolence during a period of three years, his deathcannot have taken place before A. D. 104. It is, however, generallysupposed that his life was not prolonged much beyond this date. Hisdeath may have been hastened by his distaste for a provincial life, andby the malice and envy of his new neighbours.[1169]

According to his own account, in an epigram,[1170] in which he contrastshimself with an effeminate fop, his appearance was rough and unpolished,his shaggy hair refused to curl, his cheeks were well-whiskered, and hisvoice was louder than the roar of a lioness.[1171] It is impossible tobelieve the assertion which he makes respecting his own moral character,namely, that although his verses are licentious his life was virtuous,

 Lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba est.[1172]

—although, measured by the corrupt standard of morals which disgracedthe age in which he lived, he was probably not worse than most of hiscontemporaries. The fearful profligacy which his powerful pen describesin such hideous terms spread through Rome its loathsome infection. As nolanguage is strong enough to denounce the impurities of hisage—impurities, in the description of which, the poet evidently revelswith a cynical delight—so they were not merely creatures of a prurientimagination, but had a real existence.

It may be said in extenuation of his crime, that the prevalence of viceproduced the obscenity of the poet; but no more can be said in defenceof works in which the characters of vice are emblazoned in suchshameless and unnatural deformity. Had he lived in better times, histalents, of which no doubt can be entertained, might have been devotedto a purer object; as it was, his moral taste must have been thoroughlydepraved not to have turned with loathing and disgust from thecontemplation of such subjects, instead of voluntarily seeking them; for“out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” In Martial weobserve that paradoxical but still not unusual combination of variedwit, poetical imagination, and a happy power of graceful expression, notonly with strong sensual passions, but with a delight in vice in itsmost hateful forms and attributes.

Although the new feature which Martial added to the Greek epigram issuch as has been described, and although his pages are polluted anddefiled, not all his poems are spiteful or obscene. Amidst someobscurity of style and want of finish, many are redolent of Greeksweetness and elegance. Here and there are pleasing descriptions of thebeauties of nature;[1173] and, setting aside those which are evidentlydictated by the spirit of flattery, many are kind-hearted, as well ascomplimentary. The few lines which were intended to accompany suchtrifling offerings of friendship as the poet could afford to give, andwhich, doubtless, rendered a flower or a toy doubly acceptable, areequal in neatness to many of the Greek Anthology. When he sends a roseto Apollinaris, it is accompanied by the following elegant lines:—

 I felix rosa, mollibusque sertis Nostri cinge comas Apollinaris; Quas tu nectere candidas sed olim, Sic te semper amet Venus, memento.[1174]

 Go, happy rose, and with thy delicate garlands wreathe the locks of my Apollinaris; and remember, so may Venus ever love thee! to entwine them when gray: but may it be long ere that time comes.

The fourteenth book contains numerous ingenious couplets, sent, togetherwith pencases, dice, tablets, toothpicks, and other little presents, atthe Saturnalian festival.

In so vast a collection of pieces it is natural to expect that therewould be great inequality, and that some of his wit would be commonplaceand puerile. That such was the case, he himself confesses more thanonce;[1175] and in one place he states that this inequality constitutesone of the merits of his work.[1176]

He knew that his works were appreciated, not only at Rome, but alsothroughout the empire:—

 Toto notus in orbe Martialis Argutis epigrammaton libellis;[1177]

and this consciousness is some excuse for the vanity which occasionallyshows itself,[1178] and which does not hesitate to account blemishes asbeauties.

The following are favourable specimens of his poetry:—

 Indignas premeret pestis cum tabida fauces, Inque ipsos vultus serperet atra lues; Siccis ipse genis flentes hortatus amicos Decrevit Stygios Festus adire lacus. Nec tamen obscuro pia polluit ora veneno, Aut torsit lenta tristia fata fame; Sanctam Romana vitam sed morte peregit, Dimisitque animam nobiliore via. Hanc mortem fatis magni præferre Catonis Fama potest; hujus Cæsar amicus erat.

 When the dire quinsey choked his noble breath, And o’er his face the blackening venom stole, Festus disdained to wait a lingering death, Cheered his sad friends, and freed his dauntless soul. Nor meager famine’s slowly-wasting force, Nor hemlock’s gradual chillness he endured; But closed his life a truly Roman course, And with one blow his liberty secured. The Fates gave Cato a less glorious end, For Cæsar was his foe, Festus was Cæsar’s friend.[1179] _Hodgson._

 Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Pæto Quem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis, Si qua fides, vulnus, quod feci, non dolet, inquit; Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Pæte, dolet.

 When Arria to her Pætus gave the steel, Which from her bleeding side did newly part; “From my own stroke,” she said, “no pain I feel, But, ah! thy wound will stab me to the heart.”

 Dum nos blanda tenent jucundi stagna Lucrini Et quæ pumiceis fontibus antra calent, Tu colis Argivi regnum Faustine coloni Quo te bis decimus ducit ab urbe lapis. Horrida sed fervent Nemeæi pectora monstri Nec satis est Baias igne calere suo. Ergo sacri fontes et littora sacra valete Nympharum pariter Nereidumque domus! Herculeos colles gelida vos vincite bruma, Nunc Tiburtinis cedite frigoribus.

 While near the Lucrine lake, consumed to death, I draw the sultry air and gasp for breath, Where streams of sulphur raise a stifling heat, And thro’ the pores of the warm pumice sweat; You taste the cooling breeze where, nearer home, The twentieth pillar marks the mile from Rome. And now the Sun to the bright Lion turns, And Baia with redoubled fury burns; Then briny seas and tasteful springs, farewell, Where fountain Nymphs confused with Naiads dwell. In winter you may all the world despise, But now ’tis Tivoli that bears the prize. _Addison._

 CHAPTER VI.AUFIDIUS BASSUS AND CREMUTIUS CORDUS—VELLEIUS PATERCULUS—CHARACTER OF

HIS WORKS—VALERIUS MAXIMUS—CORNELIUS TACITUS—AGE OF TRAJAN—BIOGRAPHY OF

 TACITUS—HIS EXTANT WORKS ENUMERATED—AGRICOLA—GERMANY—HISTORIES—TRADITIONS RESPECTING THE JEWS—ANNALS—OBJECT OF TACITUS—HIS CHARACTER—HIS STYLE.

The earliest prose writers belonging to this epoch were Aufidius Bassusand Cremutius Cordus. The former wrote a history of the German and civilwars, which was continued by the elder Pliny; of the latter only a fewfragments have been preserved by Seneca.[1180] They were published inthe reign of Tiberius; and it is evident that they contained a historyof the civil wars, for his praise of Brutus and Cassius was made thepretext for his impeachment. It is also clear that he treated ofcontemporary events; for the real cause of the emperor’s hostility wasan attack which he made upon the favourite Sejanus. In vain he tenderedan apology; and seeing there was no hope of escape he starved himself todeath.[1181] His histories were publicly burned, but his daughter, towhom Seneca addressed his “_Consolatio_,” concealed some copies, andafterwards published them, with the approbation of Caligula.[1182]

 M. VELLEIUS PATERCULUS.

Together with these flourished M. Velleius Paterculus. He was a soldierof equestrian family, served his first campaign in Asia, andsubsequently, after passing through the various steps of promotion,acted as _legatus_ to Tiberius in Germany. His services recommended himto the favour of the prince, on whose accession he was made prætor, andproved himself a stanch supporter of him and his favourite ministerSejanus. In the fall of that unworthy man,[1183] Paterculus wasinvolved, and was most probably put to death.

The short historical work by which he is known as an author is a historyof Rome, and of the nations connected with the foundation of theimperial city, in two books. It is dedicated to M. Vinucius, consul; andas it carries on the history to the death of Livia, the mother ofTiberius, in the year of his consulate,[1184] it must have beenfinished, perhaps almost entirely written within that year. Assumingthat it was wise to undertake the task of comprising within such narrowlimits events extending over so large a field, it is not unskilfullyperformed. The most striking events are selected and told in a livelyand interesting manner; but he had one fault fatal to his character asan historian, who professed to treat of his own times. He is partial,prejudiced, and adulatory. He had not courage to be a Thucydides or aSallust. The perilous nature of the times, and the personal obligationsunder which he was to the emperor, made him a courtier, and from thisone-sided point of view he viewed contemporary history.

He was, however, a man of lively talents though of superficialeducation: his taste was formed after the model of the Augustan writers,especially Sallust, of whose style, so far as the outward form, he wasan imitator. But although he was one of the earliest writers of the socalled silver age, his language shows signs of degeneracy. It is, attimes, overstrained and unnatural; there is the usual affectation ofrhetorical effect, and an unnecessary use of uncommon words andconstructions; still, whenever he keeps his model in view, he isscarcely inferior to him in conciseness and perspicuity. The first bookof his history is in a very imperfect state; in fact, the commencementis entirely lost. Only one manuscript of it has been discovered, andeven this is now nowhere to be found.

 VALERIUS MAXIMUS.

Valerius Maximus can scarcely be termed an historian, although thesubject of which he treated is historical. His work is neither one oforiginal research, nor is it a connected abridgment of the investigationof his predecessors. It is a collection of anecdotes, entitled _DictorumFactorumque Memorabilium_, Libri IX. His object is a moral one; namely,to illustrate, by examples, the beauty of virtue and the deformity ofvice; but he is influenced in the selection less by historical truththan by the striking and interesting character of the narrative. Thearrangement of the anecdotes resembles that of a commonplace book,rather than of history, the only principle observed being, thatanecdotes of Romans and foreigners are kept distinct from one another.

Nothing is known, for certain, respecting his personal history. Hehimself states[1185] that he accompanied Sextus Pompeius into Asia; and,from a comparison of different passages, it is probable that, likeVelleius Paterculus, he flourished and wrote during the reign ofTiberius. His style is prolix and declamatory, and characterized byawkward affectation and involved obscurity.

 C. CORNELIUS TACITUS.

For the reasons already stated, Rome, for a long period, could boast ofno historian; but, under the genial and fostering influence of theEmperor Trajan,[1186] not only the fine arts, especially architecture,flourished, but also literature revived. The choice of Nerva could nothave fallen on a better successor to his short reign. He was a Spaniard,but his native town was a flourishing Roman colony: the whole countryround about it had experienced the effects of Roman civilization, andthe language of all the towns in the south of Spain was Latin. Theglories of war and the duties of peace divided his attention. By theformer, he gave employment to his vast armies; by the latter he refinedthe tastes and improved the character of his people. No better testimonycan be desired than the correspondence between him and Pliny to themildness and wisdom of his domestic and foreign administration. Theinfluence, also, of his empress, Plotina, and his sister, Marciana,exercised a beneficial influence upon Roman society; for they were thefirst ladies of the imperial court who by their example checked theshameless licentiousness which had long prevailed amongst women of thehigher classes. The same taste and execution which are visible in thebas-reliefs on the column of Trajan adorn the literature of his age, asillustrated by its two great lights, Tacitus and the younger Pliny.There is not the rich, graceful ornament which invests with such a charmthe writers of the golden age; but the absence of these qualities isamply compensated by dignity, gravity, honesty and truthfulness. Thereis a solidity in the style of Tacitus which makes amends for itsdifficulty, and justifies the intense admiration with which he wasregarded by Pliny. Truthfulness beams throughout the writings of thesetwo great contemporaries; and incorruptible virtue is as visible in thepages of Tacitus as benevolence is in the letters of Pliny. Theymutually influenced each other’s character and principles: their tastesand pursuits were similar: they loved each other dearly; correspondedregularly, corrected each other’s works, and accepted patiently andgratefully each other’s criticisms. If, however, on all occasions, theirobservations were such as appear in the letters of Pliny, it is probablethat their mutual regard, and the unbounded admiration which Plinyentertained for the superior genius of his friend caused them to berather laudatory than severe.

The exact date of the birth of Tacitus is not known; but from one of themany letters extant, addressed to him by Pliny,[1187] it may be inferredthat the former was not more than one or two years senior to his friend.In it he reminds him that in years they are almost equals, and adds thathe himself was a young man when Tacitus had already obtained a brilliantreputation. There is a tradition which assigns the birth of Tacitus tothe year of Nero’s accession; but as Pliny the Younger was born A. D.61, and Nero assumed the imperial purple A. D. 54, this date would makethe difference in age between him and Pliny too great to be consistentwith the expressions of the latter. Tacitus was of equestrian rank, andwas procurator of Belgic Gaul in the reigns of Vespasian and Titus, fromwhom, as well as from Domitian, he received many marks of esteem. InA. D. 78, he married the daughter of C. Julius Agricola. He was one ofthe fifteen commissioners appointed for the celebration of the LudiSeculares, A. D. 88, and was also prætor the same year. In A. D. 97, heserved the office of consul. To this magistracy he was elected in orderto supply the place of Virginius Rufus, who had died during his year ofoffice, and over him Tacitus pronounced the funeral oration. In A. D.99, he was associated by the Senate with Pliny[1188] in the impeachmentof Marius Priscus, proconsul of Africa, for maladministration of hisprovince; and his friend Pliny praises his reply to the acute subtletiesof Salvius Liberalis, the advocate of Marius, as distinguished, not onlyfor oratorical power, but for that which he considers the mostremarkable quality of his style, _gravity_. His words are, “ResponditCorn. Tacitus eloquentissime et quod eximie orationi ejus inest,σεμνως.”[1189] It is not known when Tacitus died, nor whether he leftany descendants; but there can be no doubt that he survived theaccession of Hadrian.[1190]

The works of Tacitus which are extant, are:—(1.) A Life of hisfather-in-law, Agricola. (2.) A tract on the Manners and Nations ofGermany. (3.) A small portion of a voluminous work, entitled Histories.(4.) About two-thirds of another historical work, entitled Annals. (5.)A dialogue on the Decline of Eloquence is also ascribed to him; andalthough doubts have been entertained of its genuineness, they do notrest upon any strong foundation. It is impossible to do more thanapproximate to the dates at which each work of Tacitus was composed. Theimminent peril of writing or speaking plainly on events or individualsrenders it almost certain that none of them could have been publishedbefore the accession of Trajan. Niebuhr[1191] entertains no doubt thatthe first edition of the Life of Agricola was published towards the endof Domitian’s reign, and that, subsequently, it was revised and anintroduction prefixed. But is it not more probable that, although thework was then written, it was not published until after revision?

Great as were the moral worth and the amiable gentleness of Agricola,his courage as a soldier, his skill and decision as a general, hisprudence and caution as a politician, and, therefore, however deservinghe may be of the pleasing light in which his character is portrayed,still the life of Tacitus is a panegyric rather than a biography. Thenear relation in which Tacitus stood to him, the affectionate admirationwhich Agricola must necessarily have commanded from one who knew him sowell, unfitted him for the work of an impartial biographer. The finepoints of Agricola’s character outshine all its other features; but wecannot suppose that he had no defects, no weaknesses. These, however, donot appear in the little work of Tacitus. His son-in-law either couldnot or would not see them. Still the brief sketch is a beautifulspecimen of the vigour and force of expression with which this greatestpainter of antiquity could throw off any portrait which he attempted.Even if the likeness be somewhat flattered, the qualities which thewriter possessed, his insight into character, his pathetic power, andhis affectionate heart, render this short piece one of the mostattractive biographies extant.[1192]

With what simple pathos does he tell us of the obligation whichAgricola, like so many other great men, owed to the educating care ofhis pure-minded, prudent, and indulgent mother, and the gratitude withwhich he was wont constantly to speak of that obligation! With whataffection does he speak of one bound to him, not only by the ties ofaffinity, but by the stronger ties of a congenial temper anddisposition! In his reflections on his death, there is no affectedattempt at dramatic display. The few words devoted to so mournful asubject simply breathe the overwhelming sense of bereavement, unassuagedby the consolation of being present at his last moments. “Happy wertthou, Agricola, not only because thy life was glorious, but because thydeath was well-timed! All who heard thy last words bear witness to theconstancy with which thou didst welcome death as though thou wertdetermined manfully to acquit the emperor of being the cause. But thebitterness of thy daughter’s sorrow and mine for the loss of a parent isenhanced by the reflection, that it did not fall to our lot to watchover thy declining health, to solace thy failing strength, to enjoy thylast looks, thy last embraces. Faithfully would we have listened to thyparting words and wishes, and imprinted them deeply on our memories.This was our chief sorrow, our most painful wound. Owing to our longabsence from Rome, thou hadst been lost to us four years before.Doubtless, O best of parents! enough, and more than enough, of honourwas paid to thee by the assiduous attention of thy affectionate wife;still the last offices were paid thee amidst too few tears, and thineeyes were conscious that some loved object was absent just as theirlight was dimmed for ever.” To this tribute of dutiful affection,succeed sentiments of noble resignation, joined with an humbleconviction of the transitory nature of human talents, and an earnestlooking-for of immortality. To us, the biography of Agricola isespecially interesting, because Britain was the scene of his glory as amilitary commander, and of his success in civil administration. His armyfirst penetrated beyond the Friths of Forth and Clyde into the Highlandsof Scotland, and his fleet first circumnavigated the northernextremities of the British island.

The treatise on the geography, manners and nations of Germany (_De SituMoribus et Populus Germaniæ_) is but little longer than the Life ofAgricola. The information contained in it is exactly of that characterwhich might be expected, considering the sources from which it wasderived. Tacitus was never in Germany, and therefore his knowledge wascollected from those who had visited it for the purposes either of waror commerce. Hence his geographical descriptions are often vague andinaccurate; a mixture of the marvellous shows that some of hisnarratives consist in mere travellers’ tales, whilst the salient pointsand characteristic features of the national manners bear the impress oftruth, and are supported by the well-known habits and institutions ofTeutonic nations.

He tells of their bards, and explains the etymology of the term by theword Barditum, which signified the recitation of their songs.[1193] Hehints at wild legends and dark superstitions with which the Germanimagination still loves to people the dark recesses of theirforests.[1194] He describes their pure and unmixed race, and,consequently, the universal prevalence of the national features—blueeyes, red or sandy hair, and stalwart and gigantic frames.[1195]According to his account, their political constitutions were electivemonarchies, but the monarch was always of noble birth and his powerlimited;[1196] and all matters of importance were debated by the estateof the people.[1197] In the solemn permission accorded to a German youthto bear arms, and his investiture with lance and shield, is seen theorigin of knighthood;[1198] and in the sanctity of the marriage-tie, thechastity of the female sex, their social influence, and the respect paidto them—the rarity of adultery and its severe punishment, and the totalabsence of polygamy—we recognise the germ of the distinguishingcharacteristics of chivalry.[1199] They were hospitable and constant totheir hereditary friendships, but stern in perpetuating familyfeuds;[1200] passionately fond of gambling, and strict in their regardfor debts of honour;[1201] inveterate drinkers, and their favouritepotation was beer;[1202] they could not consult on important matterswithout a convivial meeting;[1203] if they quarrelled over their cups,they had recourse rarely to words, usually to blows.[1204] Their slaveswere in the condition of serfs or villains, and paid to the lord a fixedrent in corn, or cattle, or manufactures.[1205] They reckoned their timeby nights instead of days,[1206] just as we are accustomed to use theexpressions se’nnight and fortnight.

After having sketched the manners and customs of the nation as a wholehe proceeds to treat of each tribe separately.[1207] In speaking of ourforefathers, the _Angli_, who inhabited part of the modern territory ofSleswick Holstein, and whose name is still retained in the district ofAngeln, one word which he uses is an English one. The Angli, he says,together with the conterminous tribes, worship Herthus, _i. e._Terra.[1208] Even in these early times he mentions the naval superiorityof the Suiones, who were the ancestors of the Normans and Sea-kings.With these he affirms that the continent of Europe terminates, and allbeyond is a motionless and frozen ocean.[1209] Truth in these distantclimes mingles with fable. Daylight continues after the sun has set, buta hissing noise is heard as his blazing orb plunges into the sea, andthe forms of the gods, and the radiant glories which surround theirheads, are visible.[1210] The list of marvels ends with fabulous beings,whose bodies and limbs are those of wild beasts, whilst their heads andfaces are human.

The earliest historical work of Tacitus is his “_Historiæ_,” of whichonly four books and a portion of the fifth are extant. Their contentsextend from the second consulship of Galba[1211] to the commencement ofthe siege of Jerusalem. The original work concluded with the death ofDomitian.[1212] He purposed also, if his life had been spared, to addthe reigns of Nerva and Trajan, as the employment of his old age. “Thematerials for which,” he says, “are more plentiful and trustworthy,because of the unusual felicity of an age in which men were allowed tothink as they pleased, and to give utterance to what theythought.”[1213] It is plain from the word Divus (the deified) beingprefixed to the name of Nerva, and not to that of Trajan, in the passageabove quoted, that this work was written after Trajan had put on theimperial purple.[1214]

According to St. Jerome it originally consisted of thirty books; and theminuteness with which each event is recorded in the portion extantrenders it highly probable that the original work was as extensive asthis assertion would imply. The object which he proposed to himself wasworthy of his penetrating mind, from the searching gaze of which eventhe hypocrisy and dissimulation of a Tiberius were powerless to veil thefoul darkness of his crafty nature. He intended “to investigate thepolitical state of the commonwealth, the feelings of its armies, thesentiments of the provinces, the elements of its strength and weakness,the causes and reasons for each phænomenon.”[1215] The principal faultwhich diminishes the value of his history as a record of events, is histoo great readiness to accept evidence unhesitatingly, and to recordpopular rumours without taking sufficient pains to examine into theirtruth. Still these blots are but few, scattered over a vast field offaithful history. Perhaps the most lamentable instance is presented inhis incorrect account of the history, constitution, and manners of theJewish people. Wanting either the opportunity or the inclination toconsult the sacred books of the nation, he mixes up vague traditions oftheir early history with the fables of Pagan mythology; and, like theGreeks and Romans, gives names to imaginary patriarchs, taken fromlocalities connected with their history.

According to his account the Jews originally inhabited Crete,[1216] andfrom Mount Ida, in that Island, received the name of Idæi, whichafterwards became corrupted into Judæi. From Crete, when Saturn wasexpelled by Jove, they took refuge in Egypt; and thence under twoleaders, Juda and Hierosolymus, again migrated to the neighbouringcountry of Palestine. A second tradition attributes to them an Assyrianorigin; a third an Æthiopian; a fourth asserts that they were descendedfrom the Solymi which Homer celebrated in his poems.[1217]

The next tradition which he mentions approaches nearer to the true one.Egypt being afflicted with a plague, the king Bocchoris, by the adviceof the oracle of Ammon, purged his kingdom of them, and under theguidance of Moses they began their wanderings. When they were dying ontheir way for want of water, their leader followed a herd of wild asses,by which he was led to a copious well of water. Thus was their droughtrelieved; and, after journeying six days, they obtained possession ofthe land in which they built their capital and temple. Moses introducednew religious rites contrary to those of other nations. He set up theimage of an ass in the Holy of Holies—a statement which afterwardsTacitus virtually contradicts by saying that they allow no images intheir temples,[1218] that they preferred taking up arms to admitting thestatue of Caligula into the temple;[1219] and that when Pompey tookJerusalem,[1220] he found no image of any deity, and the sanctuaryempty. He adds, that they sacrifice rams in order to show contempt toJupiter Ammon, and oxen, because, under that form, Apis was worshippedby the Egyptians; that they abstain from pork in remembrance of theirhaving been afflicted with leprosy, to which that animal is subject, andeat unleavened bread as a memorial of their once having stolen food. Onthe seventh day, which terminated their wanderings, they do no work, andin like manner the seventh year they devote to idleness. This Sabbath,some assert that they keep holy in honour of Saturn. They believe in theimmortality of the soul, and in future rewards and punishments, andembalm their dead like the Egyptians. Such are the various traditionsrespecting the Jews which Tacitus incorporates in his Histories.

The Annals, which were written subsequently to the Histories, were socalled, because each historical event is recorded in historical orderunder the year to which it belongs.[1221] They consist of sixteen books;commence with the death of Augustus,[1222] and conclude with that ofNero.[1223] The only portions extant are—the first four books, part ofthe fifth, the sixth, part of the eleventh, the twelfth, thirteenth,fourteenth, fifteenth, and the commencement of the sixteenth book. TheAnnals are rather histories of each successive emperor than of the Romanpeople; but this is the necessary condition of narrating the fortunes ofa nation which now possessed only the bare name, and not the reality ofconstitutional government. The state was now the emperor; the end andobject of the social system his security; and every political event musttherefore be treated in relation to him.

But a history of this kind in the hands of one who had such skill indiving into the recesses of man’s heart, who could read so shrewdly anddelineate so vigorously human character, who possessed as a writer suchpicturesque and dramatic power, becomes the more interesting from itsbiographical nature, and its philosophical importance as a moral ratherthan a political study. It is not, owing to circumstances over which theauthor had no control, the history of a great nation, for the Romans, asa whole, were no longer great. Neither does it paint the rise, progressand development of constitutional freedom, for it had reached itszenith, had declined, become paralyzed, and finally extinct. But stillthere existed bright examples of heroism, and courage, andself-devotion, truly Roman, and instances not less prominent ofcorruption and degradation. Individuals stand out in bold relief,eminent for the noblest virtues or blackened by the basest crimes. Theseappear either singly or in groups upon the stage: the emperor forms theprincipal figure; and the moral sense of the reader is awakened toadmire instances of patient suffering and determined bravery, or abjectslavery and remorseless despotism.

The object of Tacitus, therefore, was not, like that of the greatphilosophical historian of Greece, to describe the growth of politicalinstitutions, or the implacable animosities which raged between oppositepolitical principles—the struggles for supremacy between a class and awhole people—but the influence which the establishment of tyranny on theruins of liberty exercised for good or for evil in bringing out thecharacter of the individual. Rome, the imperial city, was theall-engrossing subject of his predecessors; Romans were but subordinateand accessary. Tacitus delineated the lives and deaths of individuals,and showed the relation which they bore to the fortunes of theircountry.

It would have been impossible to have satisfied a people whose taste hadbecome more than ever rhetorical, without the introduction of orations.Those of Tacitus are perfect specimens of art; and probably, with theexception of Galgacus,[1224] far more true than those of other Romanhistorians. Still he made use of them, not only to imbody traditionalaccounts of what had really been said on each occasion, but toillustrate his own views of the character of the speaker, and to conveyhis own political opinions.

Full of sagacious observation and descriptive power, Tacitus engages themost serious attention of the reader by the gravity of his condensed andcomprehensive style, as he does by the wisdom and dignity of hisreflections. The purity and gravity of his sentiments remind the readereven of Christian authors.

Living amidst the influences of a corrupt age he was uncontaminated; andby his virtue and integrity, his chastened political liberality,commands our admiration as a man, whilst his love of truth is reflectedin his character as an historian. Although he imitated, as well asapproved, the cautious policy of his father-in-law, he was not destituteof moral firmness.

It derogates nothing from his courage that he was silent during theperilous times in which great part of his life was passed, and spokewith boldness only when the happy reign of Nerva had commenced, and thebroken spirit of the nation had revived. Like the rest of hisfellow-countrymen he exhibited a remarkable example of patientendurance, when the imperial jealousy made even the praise of those whowere obnoxious to the tyrant treason; when it was considered a capitalcrime for Arulenus Rusticus to praise Pætus Thrasea, and HerenniusSenecio to eulogize Priscus Helvidius.

In those fearful times he himself says, that “as old Rome had witnessedthe greatest glories of liberty, so her descendants had been cast downto the lowest depths of slavery; and would have been deprived of the useof memory, as well as of language, if it were equally in man’s power toforget as to be silent.”[1225] In such times prudence was a duty, anddaring courage would have been unavailing rashness. In his praise ofAgricola, and his blame of Pætus, he enunciates the principles whichregulate his own conduct—that to endanger yourself without the slightestprospect of benefiting your country is mere ostentatious ambition.“Sciant,” he writes, “quibus moris illicita mirari, posse etiam submalis principibus magnos viros esse; obsequiumque ac modestiam, siindustria ac vigor adsint, eo laudis excedere quo plerique per abrupta,sed in nullum reipublicæ usum ambitiosa morte inclaruerunt.”[1226]Again, “Thrasea Pætus sibi causam periculi fecit, cæteris libertatisinitium non præbuit.”[1227]

In the style of Tacitus the form is always subordinate to the matter;the ideas maintain their due supremacy over the language in which theyare conveyed. There is none of that striving after epigrammaticterseness which savours of affectation. His brevity, like that whichcharacterizes the style of Thucydides, is the necessary condensation ofa writer whose thoughts flow more quickly than his pen can express them.Hence his sentences are suggestive of far more than they express: theyare enigmatical hints of deep and hidden meaning, which keep the mindactive and the attention alive, and delight the reader with thepleasures of discovery and the consciousness of difficulties overcome.Nor is this natural and unintentional brevity unsuitable to the cautiousreserve with which all were tutored to speak and think of politicalsubjects in perilous times. It is extraordinary how often a similaritybetween his mind and that of Thucydides inadvertently discoversitself—not only in his mode of thinking, but also in his language, evenin his grammatical constructions, especially in his frequentsubstitution of attraction for government, in instances of condensedconstruction, and in the connexion of clauses grammatically different,although they are metaphysically the same.

Nor is his brevity dry or harsh—it is enlivened by copiousness, variety,and poetry. He scarcely ever repeats the same idea in the same form. Noauthor is richer in synonymous words, or arranges with more varied skillthe position of words in a sentence. As for poetic genius, his languageis highly figurative; no prose writer deals more largely in prosopopœia:his descriptions of scenery and incidents are eminently picturesque; hischaracters dramatic; the expression of his own sentiments and feelingsas subjective as lyric poetry.

 CHAPTER VII.

C. SUETONIUS TRANQUILLUS—HIS BIOGRAPHY—SOURCES OF HIS HISTORY—HIS GREATFAULT—Q. CURTIUS RUFUS—TIME WHEN HE FLOURISHED DOUBTFUL—HIS BIOGRAPHY OF

ALEXANDER—EPITOMES OF L. ANNÆUS FLORUS—SOURCES WHENCE HE DERIVED THEM.

 C. SUETONIUS TRANQUILLUS.

C. Suetonius Tranquillus[1228] was the son of Suetonius Lenis, whoserved as tribunus angusticlavus of the thirteenth legion at the battleof Bedriacum, in which the Emperor Otho was defeated by Vitellius. Thetime of his birth is uncertain; but from a passage at the end of hisLife of Nero[1229] it may be inferred that he was born very soon afterthe death of that emperor, which took place A. D. 68; for in it hementions that, when twenty years subsequent to Nero’s death, a falseNero appeared, he was just arriving at manhood (_adolescens_.) Theknowledge of language and rhetorical taste displayed in the remains ofhis works on these subjects prove that he was well instructed in thesebranches of a Roman liberal education: and a letter of the youngerPliny,[1230] whose intimate friend he was, speaks of him as an advocateby profession. This letter represents him as unwilling to plead a cause,which he had undertaken, because he was frightened by a dream. It isprobable that this anecdote is an authentic one, because so manyexamples occur in his memoirs of his superstitious belief in dreams,omens, ghosts, and prodigies.[1231]

The affectionate regard which Pliny entertained for his friend was verygreat, and led him to form too high an estimate of his talents as awriter and an historian. On one occasion he used his influence at courtto get him a tribuneship; which, however, he did not accept.[1232] Onanother he obtained for him, from Trajan,[1233] the “_jus triumliberorum_,” although he had no children. But this privilege, as in thecase of Martial, was sometimes granted under similar circumstances. Inthis letter, which he wrote to the Emperor, he speaks of Suetonius as aman of the greatest probity, integrity, and learning; and adds that,after the experience of a long acquaintance, the more he knows of himthe more he loves him.

Subsequently Suetonius became private secretary (_Magister Epistolarum_)to Hadrian,[1234] but was deprived of the situation. Owing to the onlysources of information respecting Suetonius being his own works, and thefew scattered notices in the letters of Plinius Secundus, nothing moreis known respecting his life.

A catalogue of his numerous writings is given by Suidas:[1235] but, withthe exception of the Lives of the Twelve Cæsars, it does not contain hischief extant works. These are notices of illustrious grammarians andrhetoricians, and the lives of the poets Terence, Horace, Persius,Lucan, and Juvenal.

Niebuhr[1236] believed that the history, or rather the biography of theCæsars was written when Suetonius was still young, before he wassecretary to Hadrian, and previous to the publication of the Historiesof Tacitus. If so, he neither enjoyed the opportunities of consultingthe imperial records which his situation at court would have given him,nor of profiting by the accurate guidance and profound reflection ofTacitus. Krause,[1237] on the other hand, adduces many parallelismsbetween the language of Tacitus and Suetonius; and as Tacitus did notpublish his earliest historical work before A. D. 117,[1238] assumesthat Suetonius did not write his biographies until after the accessionof Hadrian.

It is very difficult to determine which of these theories is the correctone; but there can be no doubt that the sources from which he derivedhis information are quite independent of the authority of Tacitus; andthat the Lives of the Twelve Cæsars would have contained all that wefind in them, even if the Annals and Histories had never been written.He does not only trust to the works of the Roman historians, but hisexact quotations from acts of the senate and people, edicts, fasti, andorations, and the use which he makes of annals and inscriptions, provethat he was a man of diligent research, and that he examined originaldocuments for himself.

Again, as a writer of biographical memoirs rather than of regularhistory, and fond of anecdote and scandal, he availed himself largely ofsuch private letters of Emperors and their dependants as fell in hisway, of testamentary documents, and of the information he could collectin conversation. Many of the lives which he wrote were those of hiscontemporaries. Some of the events recorded were passing under the eyesof the public, and were matters of notoriety. He himself asserts inthree several places[1239] that he received some of the accounts whichhe gives from the testimony of eye-witnesses. The more secret habits ofthe Emperors, either truly told or exaggerated by an appetite forscandal, would ooze out. Anecdotes of the reigning Emperor’s privatelife would be eagerly sought for, and be the favourite topic of gossipin all circles of Roman society. Nor would he have any difficulty inprocuring copious stores of information respecting those Emperors whoreigned before he was born from those of his contemporaries who were ageneration older than himself, and who were spectators of, or actors in,many of the scenes which he describes. As a biographer, there is noreason to doubt his honesty and veracity; he is industrious and careful;he indulges neither in ornament of style nor in romantic exaggeration;the picture which he draws is a terrible one, but it is fully supportedby the contemporary authority of Juvenal and Tacitus. Nevertheless, hismind was not of that comprehensive and philosophical character whichwould qualify him for taking an enlarged view of political affairs, orfor the work of an historian. He has no definite plan formed in hismind, without which an historian can never hope to make his work acomplete whole; he wanders at will from one subject to another, just asthe idea seizes him, and is by no means careful of committing offencesagainst chronological order.

Niebuhr accuses him of inconsistency in the character which he draws andthe praise which he bestows on Vespasian:[1240] but adds what may, insome sort, be considered a defence, namely, that Vespasian was,negatively speaking, a good, upright, and just man, and that the darkside of his character must be considered in reference to the fearfultimes in which he reigned. He also mentions, as an example of hisdeficiencies as an historian, the bad accounts which he has left of hisown times, especially of the anarchy which followed Nero’s death, andthe commencement of the reign of Vespasian. But in his praise it may besaid that Suetonius has formed a just estimate of his own powers inundertaking to be a biographer and not an historian; and it is scarcelyfair to criticise severely his unfitness for a task to which he made nopretensions.

One great fault pollutes his pages. The dark pictures which he draws ofthe most profligate Emperors, the disgusting annals of their unheard-ofcrimes, are dwelt upon as though he took pleasure in the description,and loved to wallow in the mire of the foulest debauchery. Truth,perhaps, required that they should not have been passed over in silence,but they might have been lightly touched, and not painted in detail withrevolting faithfulness. He is often brief, sometimes obscure: in suchpassages of his narrative we would have gladly welcomed both brevity andobscurity.

 Q. CURTIUS RUFUS.

The doubts which have always been entertained respecting the time whenthe biographer of Alexander the Great flourished, and which noinvestigations have been sufficient to dissipate, render it impossibleto pass him by unnoticed, although he may, perhaps, belong to an agebeyond the chronological limits of this work. The purity of his stylehas, in the opinion of some critics, entitled him to a place among thewriters of the silver age; whilst Niebuhr, judging by the internalevidence, thinks that he must have lived as late as the reign ofCaracalla or Septimius Severus.

No valid argument, however, can be based upon his style, because it isevidently artificial: it is, indeed, infected with a love of declamatoryornament; it is sometimes more like poetry than prose; it abounds inmetaphors, and therefore proves that he lived in a rhetorical age; butit is upon the whole an imitation of the Latinity of Livy. Thisrhetorical character of his style gives some value to the opinion of F.A. Wolf, that he was the Q. Curtius Rufus mentioned by Suetonius in histreatise on Illustrious Orators. If so, he was probably a contemporary.

With respect to internal evidence, reference has been made to twopassages as containing allusions to his times. (1.) Multis ergo casibusdefuncta (sc. Tyrus,) nunc tamen longa pace cuncta refovente, sub tutelaRomanæ mansuetudinis acquiescit.[1241] (2.) Proinde jure meritoque P. R.salutem se principi suo debere profitetur, qui noctis, quam pænesupremam habuimus, novum sidus illuxit, hujus hercule, non solis ortus,lucem caliganti reddidit mundo, cum sine suo capite discordia membratrepidarent.[1242] The former has been considered descriptive of manyperiods in Roman history: although Niebuhr[1243] makes the unqualifiedassertion, that it has no meaning, unless it alludes to the times ofSeptimius Severus and Caracalla. The latter is equally vague: Niebuhrthinks it might refer to Aurelian: Gibbon considers that it alluded toGordian. But to how many Emperors might a spirit of eulogistic flatterymake it applicable! Upon the whole, it is most probable that he livedtowards the close of the first century.

The biography of Alexander is deeply interesting; for, although Curtiusevidently disdains historic reality, his hero always seems to have aliving existence: it is a romance rather than a history. He never losesan opportunity by the colouring which he gives to historical facts ofelevating the Macedonian conqueror to a superhuman standard. He has noinclination to weigh the merits of conflicting historical testimonies:he selects that which supports his partial predilections; nor are histalents for story-telling checked by a profound knowledge of eithertactics or geography, or other objective historical materials, forcorrect details in which he is too frequently negligent.[1244] Hisflorid and ornamented style is suitable to the imaginary orations whichare introduced in the narrative, and which constitute the most strikingportions of the work. The sources from which he derived his informationare various, the principal one being the account of Alexander’s exploitsby the Greek historian Clitarchus, who accompanied the Macedonianconqueror in his Asiatic expedition. He is, however, by no means aservile follower; for in one instance he does not hesitate to accuse himof inaccuracy. They were, however, kindred spirits: both would sacrificetruth to romantic interest; both indulged in the same tale-tellingtendency. His work originally consisted of ten books. Two of these arelost, and their places have been supplied, in a very inferior manner, byCellarius and Freinsheim. Even in the eight books which are extant, anhiatus of more or less extent occasionally occurs.

 L. ANNÆUS FLORUS.

Brief as the epitomes are which bear the name of L. Annæus Florus, thestyle is characterized by the rhetorical spirit of the age to which theybelong. They are diffuse and declamatory, and their author is rather thepanegyrist of his countrymen than the grave and sober narrator of themost important events contained in their history. This short summary,entitled “_Rerum Romanarum_, Libri IV.,” or “_Epitome de GestisRomanorum_,” is a well-arranged compilation from the authorities extant;but it is probable that, like all other Roman historians except VelleiusPaterculus, he derived his materials principally from Livy. Such a dryskeleton of history, however, must be uninteresting. Who the author wasis by no means certain. Some have supposed him to be the same withAnnæus Florus, who wrote three trochaic verses to Hadrian. Titze[1245]imagines that it is the work of two authors, one a contemporary ofHorace,[1246] the other belonging to a later literary period.

It is generally assumed that the author[1247] of the Epitomes was eithera Spaniard or a Gaul; and, if we may consider the introduction to thework as genuine, he lived in the reign of Trajan.

 CHAPTER VIII.

M. ANNÆUS SENECA—HIS CONTROVERSY AND SUASORIÆ—L. ANNÆUS SENECA—TUTOR TONERO—HIS ENORMOUS FORTUNE—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER—INCONSISTENCIES IN HISPHILOSOPHY—A FAVOURITE WITH EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS—HIS EPISTLES—WORK ON

 NATURAL PHENOMENA—APOCOLOCYNTOSIS—HIS STYLE.

 M. ANNÆUS SENECA.

The family of the Senecas exercised a remarkable influence overliterature; they may, in fact, be said to have given the tone to thetaste of their age.

M. Annæus Seneca was born at Corduba (Cordova.) The precise date of hisbirth is unknown; but Clinton places it about B. C. 61. This is notimprobable, for he asserts[1248] that he had heard all the eminentorators except Cicero, and that he might have enjoyed that privilegealso if the civil wars had not compelled him to remain in his nativecountry. After this hinderance was removed by the accession of Augustushe came to Rome, and, as a professional rhetorician, amassed aconsiderable fortune. Subsequently he returned to Cordova, and marriedHelvia, by whom he had three sons, of whom L. Annæus Seneca, thephilosopher, was the eldest.

He left behind him two works, the composition of which was theemployment of his old age. They are the results of his long andsuccessful experience as a teacher of rhetoric, the gleanings of hiscommonplace book, the stores accumulated by his astonishing memory,which enabled him to repeat two thousand unconnected words after oncehearing them, and to report literally any orations which he had hearddelivered. They are valuable as showing how a hollow and artificialsystem, based upon the recollection of stock-passages and commonplaces,had supplanted the natural promptings of true eloquence. They explainthe principles and practice of instruction in the popular schools ofrhetoric, the means by which the absence of natural endowments could becompensated. They exhibit wit, learning, ingenuity, and taste to selectand admire the best literary specimens of earlier periods; but it isplain that matter was now subordinate to form—that the orator wascontent to borrow the phraseology of his predecessors in which to clothesentiments which he could neither feel nor understand. The ear stillyearned for the language of sincerity, although the heart no longerthrobbed with the ardour of patriotism. It is this want of conformity ofideas to words which causes the coldness of a declamatory and floridstyle. It is a mere representation of warmth: it disappoints like a merepainted fire.

The first work of M. Seneca was entitled _Controversiæ_: it was dividedinto ten books, of which, with the exception of fragments, only thefirst, second, seventh, eighth, and tenth are extant. It contains aseries of exercises or declamations in judicial oratory on fictitiouscases. The imaginary causes were probably sketched out by the professor.The students composed their speeches according to the rules of rhetoric:they were then corrected, committed to memory, and recited, partly witha view to practice, partly in order to amuse an admiring audience. Thecases are frequently as puerile as a schoolboy’s theme, sometimesextravagant and absurd.

His other work, the _Suasoriæ_, contains exercises in deliberativeoratory. The subjects of them are taken from the historians and poets:they are as harmless as tyranny could desire: there is no danger thatlanguid patriotism should revive, or the empire be menaced, by suchuninteresting discussions. Nor were they confined to mere students.Public recitations had, since the days of Juvenal, been one of thecrying nuisances of the times. The poets began it, the rhetoriciansfollowed, and the most absurd trash was listened to with patience, beingushered into popular notice by partial flatterers or hired claqueurs.

 L. ANNÆUS SENECA.

L. Seneca was born at his father’s native town about the commencement ofthe Christian era. He was brought to Rome when very young, and therestudied rhetoric and philosophy. He soon displayed great talents as apleader; and by his success is said to have provoked the jealousy ofCaligula. In the reign of Claudius he was accused by the infamousMessalina of improper intimacy with Julia, the emperor’s niece, and wasaccordingly banished to Corsica.[1249] He solaced his exile with thestudy of the Stoic philosophy; and although its severe preceptsexercised no moral influence over his conduct, he not only professedhimself a Stoic, but sincerely imagined that he was one. Eight yearsafterwards Agrippina caused his recall,[1250] in order to make him tutorto her son Nero.

His pupil was naturally vicious; and Seneca, though wise and prudent,was too unscrupulous a man of the world to attempt the correction of hispropensities, or to instil into him high principles. After the accessionof Nero,[1251] Seneca endeavoured to arrest his depraved career; but itwas too late: all he could do was to put into his mouth specious wordsof clemency and mercy. He saw how dangerous was the unprincipledambition of Agrippina; and dreadful though it was to sanction parricide,there was scarcely any other course to be pursued, except the consentingto her death. When the deed was done, he had the pitiful meanness toscreen the murderer by a falsehood. He wrote a letter, which Nero sentto the senate, accusing his mother of treason, and asserting that shehad committed suicide.[1252]

Seneca had by usury and legacy-hunting, amassed one of those enormousfortunes, of which so many instances are met with in Roman history. Thishad already exposed him to envy,[1253] and caused his temporarybanishment to the Balearic isles.[1254] But after that Burrus was dead,who shared his influence over the Emperor, he felt the dangers ofwealth, and offered his property to Nero.[1255] The Emperor refused; butSeneca retired from public life. Being now under the influence of newfavourites, Nero wished to rid himself of Seneca; and although there wasno evidence of his being privy to the conspiracy of Piso, it furnished apretext for his destruction.[1256] In adversity his character shone withbrighter lustre. Though he had lived ill, he could die well. Hisfirmness was the result, not of Stoical indifference, but of Romancourage. He met the messengers of death without trembling. His noblewife Paullina determined to die with him. The veins of both were openedat the same time. The little blood which remained in his emaciated andenfeebled frame refused to flow: he suffered excruciating agony: a warmbath was applied, but in vain; and a draught of poison was equallyineffectual. At last he was suffocated by the vapour of a stove, andexpired.[1257]

Seneca lived in a perilous atmosphere. The philosophy in which hebelieved was hollow, and, being unsuited to his court life,[1258] hethought it expedient to allow himself some relaxation from its severity.His rhetorical taste led him to overstate even his own real convictions;and hence the incongruity of his life appeared more glaring. He was notinsincere; but he had not firmness to act up to the high moral standardwhich he proposed to himself. In his letters, and his treatise “_DeConsolatione_,” addressed to Polybius, he even convicts himself of thisdefect. He had difficult questions to decide, and had not sufficientmoral principle to lead him in the right course. He was avaricious; butit was the great sin of his times. Tacitus is not blind to hisweaknesses;[1259] but he estimates his character with more candour andfairness than Dio.[1260] He is neither a panegyrist nor an accuser. Theeducation of one who was a brute rather than a man was a task to thedischarge of which no one would have been equal. He, therefore, retainedthe influence which he had not uprightness to command by miserable andsinful expedients. He had great abilities, and some of the noblequalities of the old Romans. Had he lived in the days of the Republic hewould have been a great man.

Seneca was the author of twelve ethical treatises, the best of which areentitled “_De Providentiâ_,” “_De Constantiâ Sapientis_,” and “_DeConsolatione_.” The latter was addressed to his mother Helvia, andwritten during his exile in Corsica. In the treatise on Providence hediscusses the question why, since there is a Divine Providence, good menare liable to misfortunes. Although the difficulty is explained by thedoctrine that the remedy, “_suicide_,” is always in man’s power, itasserts the omnipresence of the Deity, and the existence of a moralGovernor of the universe.

Great as are the inconsistencies in his ethical philosophy (nor could itbe otherwise, as his life was always doing despite to his moral sense ofright and wrong,) his views are generally clear and practical. In thishe was a true Roman; he cared little for abstract speculation; he didnot value, except as subordinate aids, either mental or naturalphilosophy. He delighted to inculcate precepts rather than investigateprinciples. It is for this reason that his works are not satisfactory asa whole, whilst they furnish a rich mine for quotations. The fault whichpervades all Roman philosophy exists in an exaggerated form in hisworks: they are ethical digests of didactic precepts; but there is nosystem, no developement of new truths. His studies taught him thatgeneral principles are the foundations of morals, and that casuistry isthe application of those principles;[1261] but the Romans were naturallyinclined to be casuists rather than moralists; and in this preferenceSeneca went beyond all his countrymen. He writes like a teacher of youthrather than as a philosopher; he inculcates, without proof, maxims andinstructions, and impresses them by repetition, as though theyrecommended themselves by their intrinsic truthfulness to theconsciences of his hearers.

Seneca was always a favourite with Christian writers; he is in fact abetter guide to others than he was to himself. Some of his sentimentsare truly Christian; there is even a tradition that he was acquaintedwith St. Paul, and fourteen letters to that apostle have been, thoughwithout grounds, attributed to him. He may, however, unconsciously haveimbibed some of the principles of Christianity. The gospel had alreadymade great and rapid strides over the civilized world, and thoughtfulminds may have been enlightened by some of the rays of divine truthdispersed through the moral atmosphere, just as we are benefited by thelight of the sun, even when its disc is obscured by clouds.

His Epistles, of which there are one hundred and twenty-four, are moralessays in an epistolary form, and are the most delightful of his works.Although addressed to a disciple named Lucilius, they are evidentlywritten for the public eye: they are rich in varied thought, and thereflections flow naturally and without effort. Letters were perhaps themost appropriate vehicle for his preceptive philosophy, because such adesultory style is best adapted to convey isolated and unconnectedmaxims. They contain a free and unconstrained picture of his mind. Wesee in them how he despised verbal subtleties,[1262] the external badgesof a sect or creed, and insisted that the great end of science is tolearn how to live and how to die.

In his old age he wrote seven books on questions connected with naturalphenomena (_Quæstionum Naturalium_, Libri vii.) Why he did so it isimpossible to say, since he had so often argued against the utility ofphysical studies.[1263] The declamatory praise which he bestows uponthem in this work would lead us to suppose that it was a mere exercisefor amusement and relaxation. But in this case he is not so inconsistentas might be supposed—he treats the subject like a moralist, and makes itthe occasion of ethical reflections.[1264]

Once he indulged in the playfulness of satire. He had written a fulsomefuneral oration on Claudius, which Nero delivered in the midst oflaughter and derision; but for this abject flattery he afterwards madecompensation by composing, as a parody on the apotheosis of the stupidEmperor, the _Apocolocyntosis_, or his metamorphosis into a pumpkin. Thepun was good enough, but the execution miserable.

In the style of Seneca we see the result of that false declamatory tasteof which the works of his father furnish specimens. Thought wassubordinate to expression. The masters of rhetoric were all in all. Hisstyle is too elaborate to please; it is generally affected, often floridand bombastic: he seems always striving to produce striking effects,either by antithesis or ornament; of course he defeats his object, forthere is no light and shade. There is too much sparkle and glitter, toolittle repose and simplicity.

 CHAPTER IX. PLINY THE ELDER—HIS HABITS DESCRIBED BY HIS NEPHEW—HIS INDUSTRY AND

APPLICATION—HIS DEATH IN THE ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS—THE ERUPTION DESCRIBED

 IN TWO LETTERS OF PLINY THE YOUNGER—THE NATURAL HISTORY OF PLINY—ITS

SUBJECTS DESCRIBED—PLINY THE YOUNGER—HIS AFFECTION FOR HIS GUARDIAN—HIS

PANEGYRIC, LETTERS, AND DESPATCHES—THAT CONCERNING THE CHRISTIANS—THE ANSWER.

 C. PLINIUS SECUNDUS.

Pliny the Elder was born A. D. 23, either at Verona[1265] orNovo-Comum[1266] (Como.) As he possessed estates at the latter town, andhis nephew, the younger Pliny, whom he adopted, was undoubtedly bornthere, it was most probably the family residence and the place of theelder Pliny’s nativity. He was educated at Rome; and serving Claudius inGermany, employed the opportunities which this campaign afforded him intravelling. Afterwards he returned to Rome and practised at the bar;filled different civil offices, amongst them that of augur, and wassubsequently appointed procurator in Spain.[1267]

Some interesting particulars respecting his life and habits arecontained in a letter of the younger Pliny to his friend Macer,[1268]illustrative of his studies, his temper, his thirst for knowledge, andhis strict economy of time. The letter is also valuable for anotherreason—namely, as giving a catalogue of all the writings of his uncle.“It is a great satisfaction to me,” he writes, “that you so constantlyand diligently read my uncle’s works, that you wish to possess them all,and ask me for a list of them. I will therefore perform the duty of anindex; and will also tell you the order in which they were written.” Hethen subjoins the following titles:—(1.) The Art of using the Javelin onHorseback; composed when he was commander of cavalry in Germany. (2.)The Life of his friend Pomponius Secundus. (3.) A History of all theWars, twenty in number, which the Romans had carried on with theGermans. This was commenced during his German campaign, in obedience tothe suggestions of a dream:—“There appeared to him whilst sleeping theshade of Drusus; commended his memory to his care, and besought him torescue it from undeserved oblivion.” In accordance with hissuperstitious and credulous temper, he obeyed the call of hissupernatural visitant. (4.) A treatise on Eloquence, entitled“Studiosus,” in three books, but subdivided, on account of its length,into six volumes. In it he traces the education of an orator from thevery cradle. (5.) Eight books on Grammatical Ambiguity, which he wroteduring the reign of Nero, a period when imperial tyranny renderedstudies of a freer kind too perilous. (6.) Thirty books in continuationof the History of Aufidius Bassus, dedicated to the Emperor Titus.[1269](7.) Thirty-seven books on Natural History—a work, not only, as Plinythe Younger describes it, as full of variety as Nature herself, but, aswill be shown hereafter, a treasure-house of the arts, as well as ofnatural objects.

“You will wonder,” he continues, “how a man occupied with officialbusiness could have completed so many volumes filled with such minuteinformation. You will be still more surprised to learn that he practisedsometimes as a pleader; that he died in his fifty-sixth year; and thatthe intermediate time was distracted and interrupted by the friendshipof princes and most important public affairs. But he was a man ofvigorous intellect, incredible application, and unwearied activity.Immediately after the festival of the Vulcanalia (August 23d,) he usedto begin to study in the dead of the night; in the winter at one o’clockin the morning, at the latest at two, often at midnight. No one everslept so little—sometimes he would snatch a brief interval of sleep inthe midst of his studies. Before dawn he would wait upon the Emperor,for he also used the night for transacting business. Thence he proceededto the discharge of his official duties; and whatever time remained hedevoted to study.

“After a light and frugal meal, which, according to the old fashion, hepartook of by day, he would in summer, if he had any leisure time,recline in the sun whilst a book was read to him, from which he tooknotes and made extracts. In fact, he never read any book without makingextracts; for he used to say that no book was so bad but that someprofit could be derived from it. After sunset he generally took a coldbath, then a slight repast, and afterwards slept for a very short time.When he awoke, as if it were a new day, he studied till supper; duringwhich a book was read, on which he made annotations as the readingproceeded. I remember that one of his friends interrupted the reader,because he had mispronounced a word, and compelled him to repeat it;upon which my uncle asked, ‘Did you understand him?’ and when heanswered in the affirmative, he continued—‘Why did you interrupt him? wehave lost more than ten lines;’—so frugal was he of his time. In summerhe rose from the supper-table by daylight, in winter at nightfall; andthis custom was a law to him.

“These were his habits amidst the toils and bustle of a town-life. Inthe retirement of the country the bath was the only interruption to hisstudies. But only the bath itself, for whilst he was rubbed and wipeddry, he either dictated to an amanuensis or had a book read to him. Onjourneys, as he was then relieved from all other cares, study was theonly employment of his leisure. He had a precis-writer at his side, withbooks and tablets, who in the winter wore gloves, so that his master’sstudies might not be interrupted by the severity of the cold. For thesame reason, when at Rome, he always used a sedan. I remember oncehaving been chid by him for walking: ‘You might,’ said he, ‘avoidwasting all this time.’ For he thought all time was lost which was notdevoted to study. By this intense application he completed so manyvolumes, and bequeathed to me, besides, one hundred and sixty rolls ofcommentaries, written in the smallest possible hand and on both sides.He used to say that when he was procurator in Spain, he was offered fora portion of them 400,000 sesterces (about 3,200_l._) by LartiusLicinius.... I cannot help laughing when people call me studious, for,compared with him, I am the idlest fellow in the world.”

Pliny perished a martyr to the cause of science, in the terribleeruption of Vesuvius, which took place in the first year of the reign ofTitus.[1270] Had he been as ardent an original observer in all otherrespects, instead of a mere plodding student, and collector, andtranscriber of other men’s observations, his works would have been lessvoluminous, but more valuable. The eruption in which he perished was thefirst of which there is any record in history. It is probable that noneof any consequence had occurred before; and that the lava had neverbefore devastated the smiling slopes and green vineyards which Martialhas described.[1271] The circumstances of his death are thus describedby his nephew[1272] in two letters to Tacitus:—“He was at Misenum, incommand of the fleet. On the 24th of August, about one o’clock P. M., mymother pointed out to him a cloud of unusual size and appearance. He hadlain in the sunshine, bathed, and taken refreshment, and was nowstudying. He forthwith asked for his shoes; and ascended an eminencefrom which he could best see the phenomenon. The distance was too greatto know for certain from what mountain the cloud arose, but it wasafterwards ascertained to be Vesuvius. Its form resembled that of a pinetree more than anything else. It rose into the air in the form of a talltrunk, and then diffused itself like spreading branches. The reason ofthis I take to be that it was at first carried upwards by a freshcurrent of air, which as it grew older and weaker was unable to supportit, or perhaps its own gravity caused it to vanish in a horizontaldirection. Sometimes it was white, sometimes solid and spotted,according to the quantity of earth and ashes which it threw up.

“The phenomenon appeared to him, as a learned man, deserving of closerinvestigation. He ordered a light galley to be fitted out, and gave mepermission to accompany him. I replied that I preferred studying, and asit chanced he himself had given me something to write. Just as he wasleaving the house with his note-book in his hand, the troops stationedat Retina, a village at the foot of the mountain, from which there wasno escape except by sea, alarmed by the imminent peril they were in,sent to entreat him to rescue them. Notwithstanding this circumstancehis determination was unaltered; but the task which he had commencedwith earnestness he went through with the greatest resolution.

“He launched some quadriremes, and embarked for the purpose ofassisting, not Retina only, but others; for the beauty of the coast hadattracted a large population. He hastened to the spot whence others wereflying, and steered a direct course to the point of danger, sofearlessly that he observed all the phases and forms of that sadcalamity, and dictated his remarks on them to his secretary. Soon ashesfell on the decks, and the nearer he approached the hotter and thickerthey became. With them were mingled scorched and blackenedpumice-stones, and stones split by fire. Now the sudden reflux of thesea, and the fragments of the volcano which covered the coast, presentedan obstacle to his progress, and he hesitated for awhile whether heshould not return. At length, when his sailing-master recommended him todo so, he exclaimed, ‘Fortune favours the brave—steer for the villa ofPomponianus.’

“This was situated at Stabiæ, and was divided from the coast nearVesuvius by an inlet or gulf formed by the sea. His friend, althoughdanger was not yet imminent, yet, as it was within sight, and would bevery near if it increased, had put his baggage on board of a ship, andhad determined on flight if the wind, which was then contrary, shouldlull. A fair wind carried my uncle thither. He embraced his tremblingfriend, consoled and encouraged him. In order to assuage his fears byshowing his own unconcern, he caused himself to be carried to a bath:after bathing, he sat down to supper with cheerfulness, or, what isalmost the same thing, with the appearance of it. Meanwhile from manyparts of the volcano broad flames burst forth: the blaze was reflectedfrom the sky, and the glare and brightness were enhanced by the darknessof the night. He, to soothe the alarm of Pomponianus, endeavoured topersuade him that what he saw was only the burning villages which thecountry people had deserted in their consternation. He then retired torest and slept soundly; for his snoring, which on account of his broadchest was deep and resonant, was heard by those who were watching at thedoor.

“Soon the court through which there was access to his apartment was sochoked with cinders and pumice that longer delay would have renderedescape impossible. He was awakened; and went to Pomponianus and therest, who had sat up all night. They then held a consultation whetherthey should remain in the house or go into the open fields. For repeatedshocks of an earthquake made the houses rock to and fro, and seemed tomove them from their foundations; whilst in the air the fall ofhalf-burnt pumice, though light, menaced danger. After balancing the twodangers, he chose the latter course: with him, however, it was acomparison of reasons, with others of fears. They tied cushions overtheir heads with towels, to protect them from the falling stones.Although it was now day elsewhere, the darkness here was denser than thedarkest night, broken only by torches and lights of different kinds.They next walked out to the coast to see whether the sea was calm enoughto venture upon it, but it was still a waste of stormy waters. Then hespread a linen cloth and lay down upon it, asked for two or threedraughts of cold water; and, afterwards, flames, and that sulphureoussmell which is the forerunner of them, put his companions to flight andaroused him.

“He arose by the assistance of two slaves, and immediately fell downdead, suffocated as I imagine by the dense vapour, and the functions ofhis stomach being disordered, which were naturally weak, and liable toobstructions and difficulty of digestion. On the morning of the thirdday after his body was found entire, uninjured, and in the clothes inwhich he died: its appearance was rather that of sleep than death.”

Pliny the Younger was left with his mother at Misenum; and in anotherletter he gives an account of the appearance of the eruption at thatplace:[1273]—

“After my uncle’s departure, I spent some time in study (for that was myobject in remaining behind:) I then bathed and supped, and had somebroken and restless sleep. For many days previously shocks of anearthquake had been felt; but they caused less alarm because they areusual in Campania; but on that night they were so violent that it wasthought they would not only shake but overturn everything. My motherburst into my bed-chamber—I was just rising in order to arouse her, incase she should be asleep. We sat down in the court which divided thehouse from the sea. I know not whether to call this courage orimprudence, for I was only in my eighteenth year. I asked for a volumeof Livy, and began to read it leisurely and to make extracts.

“Well! a friend of my uncle came in who had lately arrived from Spain,and when he saw us sitting together, and me reading, he rebuked hispatience and my ‘insouciance.’ Still I was not the less for thatabsorbed in my book. It was now seven o’clock, and the dawn brokefaintly and languidly. The surrounding buildings were tottering; and thespace in which we were, being limited in extent, there was great reasonto fear their fall. We then resolved to leave town. The populacefollowed in alarm.

“When at a sufficient distance from the buildings we halted, andwitnessed many a wonderful and alarming phenomenon. The carriages whichwe had ordered to be brought out, although the ground was very level,rolled in different directions, and even stones placed under the wheelscould not stop them. The sea ebbed and seemed to be repelled by theearthquake. The coast certainly had advanced, and detained many marineanimals on dry land. On the other side of the heavens hung a dark andawful cloud, riven by wreathed and quivering lines of fiery vapour, inlong flashes resembling lightning, but larger. Then our friend fromSpain exclaimed, with eagerness and vehemence, ‘If your relative lives,he doubtless wishes your safety; if he has perished, he wished you tosurvive him. Why then do you delay to escape?’ Our answer was, ‘We willnot think of our own safety so long as we are uncertain of his.’ Withoutany more delay he hurried off, and was soon beyond the reach of danger.Soon the cloud descended to the earth, and brooded over the sea; itshrouded Capreæ, and hid from our eyes the promontory of Misenum. Mymother besought, entreated, nay, commanded me to fly by all means; shefelt that, weighed down by years and infirmity, she should die contentedif she had not been the cause of my death. I, on the other hand,persisted that I would not seek safety except with her. I took her bythe hand and forced her to go forward. She obeyed reluctantly, andblamed herself for delaying me. Ashes now began to fall, though as yetin small quantities. I looked back; behind us was thick darkness, whichpoured over the earth like a torrent. ‘Let us turn aside from the road,’said I, ‘whilst we can see, for fear we should be thrown down andtrampled under foot by the crowd in the darkness.’ We had scarce time to[think about it] [sit down] when we were enveloped in darkness, not likethat of a moonless night, or clouds, but like that of a room shut upwhen the lights are extinguished. Then were heard the shrieks of women,the wailings of infants, the shouts of men; some were calling for theirparents, others for their children, others for their wives, whom theycould only recognise by their voices. Some bewailed their ownmisfortune, others that of their family; some even from the fear ofdeath prayed for death. Many lifted up their hands to the gods; stillmore believed that there were no gods, and that the last eternal nighthad overwhelmed the world. There were not wanting some to increase thereal danger by fictitious and imaginary terrors; and some brought wordthat the conflagration was at Misenum: the false intelligence met withcredence. By degrees the light returned; but it seemed to us not thereturn of day, but the indication that the fire was approaching. Itsprogress, however, was arrested at some distance: again darknesssucceeded with showers of ashes. Every now and then we got up and shookthem off from us, otherwise we should have been overwhelmed and bruisedby their weight. I might boast that not a groan or unmanly expressionescaped me in the midst of my dangers, were it not that my firmness wasfounded on the consolatory belief that all mankind was involved,together with myself, in one common ruin. At length the darkness clearedup, and dispersed like smoke or mist. Real daylight succeeded; even thesun shone forth, but with a lurid light as when eclipsed. The aspect ofeverything which met our astonished eyes was changed: ashes covered theground like a deep snow. We returned to Misenum, and refreshedourselves, and passed an anxious night in alternate hopes and fears: thelatter, however, predominated. The earthquake still continued; and many,in a state of frenzy, made a mockery of their own and their neighbours’misfortunes by terrific prophecies.” The above letters, though long,have been quoted because they detail, in the most interesting manner,the circumstances of the elder Pliny’s death, and at the same timeillustrate the simple and graphic power of the nephew’s pen.

The Natural Philosophy of Pliny is, to say the least, an unequalledmonument of studious diligence and persevering industry. It consists ofthirty-seven books, and contains, according to his own account,[1274]20,000 facts (as he believed them to be) connected with nature and art:the result, not of original research, but, as he honestly confessed,culled from the labours of other men. It must, however, be allowed thatthe confused arrangement is owing partly to the indefinite state ofscience, and the consequent mingling together of branches which areseparate and distinct.[1275]

Owing to the extent and variety of his reading, his credulous love ofthe marvellous, and his want of judgment in comparing and selecting, hedoes not present us with a correct view of the degree of truth to whichscience had attained in his own age. He does not show how one age hadcorrected the errors of a preceding one; but reproduces errors,evidently obsolete and inconsistent with facts and theories which hadgrown up afterwards and replaced them.

With him mythological traditions appear to have almost the sameauthority as modern discoveries. The earth teems with monsters, notmiracles, or exceptions to the regular order of nature, but specimens ofher ingenuity. In his theory of the universe he assumes such causes andprinciples as lead him to admit, without question, the existence ofprodigies, however impossible they may be. They are wonderful becauseunusual; but they are effects which might result from the natural causeswhich he believed to be in operation. His theory, that Nature acted notonly by regular laws but often by actual interferences, (for this wasthe character of his pantheism, ii. 5, 7,)—his belief that the variousgerms of created things were scattered in profusion throughout theuniverse, and accidentally mingling in confusion produced monstrousforms, (3)—prepared him to consider nothing incredible (xi. 3;) and histemper inclined him to go further, and to admit almost every thing whichwas credible as true.[1276]

Deficient as the work is in scientific value and philosophicalarrangement, the author evidently wished to stamp it with a character ofpractical utility. It is an encyclopædia of the knowledge which could bebrought together from different sources; and for such a work there aretwo important requisites—facility of reference, and the citation ofauthorities. With this view the whole is preceded by a summary, and toeach book is added a table of contents, together with the names ofauthors to whom he is indebted.

The work commences with the theory of the universe;[1277] the historyand science of astronomy; meteorological phenomena; and the geologicalchanges which have taken place on the earth by volcanic and aqueousaction. Geography, both physical and political, occupy the four nextbooks.[1278] Here truth and error are mingled in dire confusion.Accounts which are based solely on the traditions of remote antiquityare given side by side with the results of modern investigation, and yetno distinction is drawn as to authenticity; and, owing to his confusingtogether such different accounts, measurements and distances aregenerally wrong.

But in the zoological division of the work, which next follows,[1279] hegives unrestrained scope to his credulity and love of the marvellous. Hetells of men whose feet were turned backwards; of others whose feet wereso large as to shade them when they lay in the sun. He describes beingsin whom both sexes were united; others in whom a change of sex had takenplace; others without mouths, who fed on the fragrance of fruits andflowers.[1280] Such are some of the marvels of the human race recordedby him. Amongst the lower animals he enumerates horned horses furnishedwith wings;[1281] the Mantichora, with the face of a man, three rows ofteeth, a lion’s body, and a scorpion’s tail;[1282] the unicorn with astag’s head, a horse’s body, the feet of an elephant, and the tail of aboar;[1283] the basilisk, whose very glance is fatal. The seas arepeopled not only with sea-goats and sea-elephants, but with real Nereidsand Tritons.[1284] Mice, according to his account, produce their youngby licking each other; and fire produces an insect (pyralis) whichcannot live except in the midst of the flames.

Sixteen books[1285] are devoted to botany, both general and medical; andthe medicinal properties of the human frame, and of other animalsubstances, as well as of different waters, are next discussed.[1286] Anaccount of minerals and metals concludes the work; and this portionembraces an account of their various uses in the fine arts, intermingledwith interesting anecdotes and histories of art and artists. This is themost valuable as well as the most pleasing section of the work.

He was pre-eminently a collector of stories and anecdotes and supposedfacts, and he was only accidentally a naturalist, because naturalhistory furnished the most extensive variety of marvellous and curiousmaterials. The naturalist, Cuvier,[1287] observed his want of judgment,his credulity, his defective arrangement, and the inappropriate natureof his observations. Notwithstanding all these faults this elaboratework contains many valuable truths, much entertaining information, andthe style in which it is written is, when not too florid, full of vigourand expression. The philosophical belief can scarcely be considered thatof any particular school, although tinctured by the prevalent Stoicismof the day; but its pervading character is querulous and melancholy.Believing that nature is an all-powerful principle, and the world oruniverse itself, instinct with Deity, he saw more of evil than of goodin the Divine dispensations; and the result was a gloomy anddiscontented pantheism.

 PLINY THE YOUNGER (BORN A. D. 61.)

C. Plinius Cæcilius Secundus was sister’s son to the elder Pliny. Mostof the information which we possess respecting his life and character isderived from his letters. He was born at Novo-Comum, on the Lake Larius(Como;) and as he was in his eighteenth year[1288] at the time of theeruption of Vesuvius, which took place A. D. 79, the date of his birthmust have been A. D. 61.

On the death of his father, C. Cæcilius, he was adopted by his uncle,and therefore took the name of Plinius. He was educated under theguardianship of Virginius Rufus, who felt for him the affection of aparent. The regard was evidently mutual. “I loved him,” writes Pliny toVoconius,[1289] with that tenderness which so frequently adorns hisletters, especially those to his wife Calphurnia, “as much as I admiredhim;” and he thus concludes his letter: “I had wished to write to you onmany other subjects, but my thoughts are fully occupied on this onesubject of contemplation. I see, I think of no one but Virginius. Infancy I seem to hear his voice, to address him, to hold him in my arms.We may perhaps have, and shall continue to have, men equal to him invirtue, but no one equal to him in glory.” In belles-lettres andeloquence[1290] he attended constantly the lectures of Quintilian andNicetes Sacerdos, of whom favourable mention is made by Seneca.[1291]

Under the care of such tutors and such an uncle, his literary tasteswere cultivated early, and before he had completed his fifteenth year hegave proof of his love of poetry, by writing what he modestly says _wascalled_ a Greek tragedy. This taste for poetry remained to him in afterlife: once when weather-bound at the island of Icaria, he celebrated theevent in an elegiac poem. He wrote hexameters, of which he gives a shortspecimen, and also a birth-day ode in hendecasyllables, and he tells ushe wrote with quickness and facility.[1292]

He was called to the bar in his nineteenth year, and attained greatcelebrity as a pleader.[1293] He stood high in favour with Trajan; andfilled with distinction high offices, both military and civil. He wasmilitary tribune in Syria; and besides being prætor and consul at home,he served as procurator of the province of Bithynia abroad. He wasgentle, liberal, refined, and benevolent; and his zeal for the interestsof literature, and his wish that the youths of Como might not be forcedto resort to Milan for education, but might owe that blessing to theirnative place,[1294] led him to offer help in founding a school, informing a public library, and in establishing exhibitions for ingenuousstudents.[1295] He thought with justice, such acts of munificence noblerthan gaudy spectacles and barbarous shows of gladiators.

His works consist of a Panegyric on Trajan and a collection of Lettersin ten books. The Panegyric is a piece of courtly flattery, for thefulsomeness of which the only defence which can be made, is the cringingand fawning manners of his times. It was written and delivered in theyear in which he was consul.[1296] The Letters are very valuable, notonly for the insight which they give into his own character, but alsointo the manners and modes of thought of his illustrious contemporaries,as well as the politics of the day. Many of them bear evident marks ofhaving been expressly intended for publication. This of course detractsfrom their value as fresh and truthful exponents of the writer’sthoughts, which all letters ought to be; but they are most delightful toread, and for liveliness, descriptive power, elegance and simplicity ofstyle, are scarcely inferior to those of Cicero, whom he evidently tookfor his model.

The tenth book, which consists of his despatches to Trajan, togetherwith the Emperor’s rescripts, will be read with the greatest interest;and the notices of public affairs contained in them are most valuable tothe historian. The despatch respecting the Christians, written fromBithynia, A. D. 104, and the Emperor’s answer,[1297] are well worthy oftranscription; both because reference is so often made to them, andbecause they throw light upon the marvellous and rapid propagation ofthe gospel; the manners of the early Christians; the treatment to whichtheir constancy exposed them, even under favourable circumstances, andthe severe jealousy with which even a governor of mild and gentle temperthought it his duty to regard them. “It is my constant practice, sire,to refer to you all subjects on which I entertain doubt. For who isbetter able to direct my hesitation or to instruct my ignorance? I havenever been present at the trials of Christians, and therefore I do notknow in what way, or to what extent, it is usual to question or topunish them. I have also felt no small difficulty in deciding whetherage should make any difference, or whether those of the tenderest andthose of mature years should be treated alike; whether pardon should beaccorded to repentance, or whether, where a man has once been aChristian, recantation should profit him; whether, if the name ofChristian does not imply criminality, still the crimes peculiarlybelonging to the name should be punished. Meanwhile, in the case ofthose against whom informations have been laid before me, I have pursuedthe following line of conduct. I have put to them, personally, thequestion whether they were Christians. If they confessed, I interrogatedthem a second and third time, and threatened them with punishment. Ifthey still persevered, I ordered their commitment; for I had no doubtwhatever that, whatever they confessed, at any rate dogged andinflexible obstinacy deserved to be punished. There were others whodisplayed similar madness; but, as they were Roman citizens, I orderedthem to be sent back to the city. Soon persecution itself, as isgenerally the case, caused the crime to spread, and it appeared in newforms. An anonymous information was laid against a large number ofpersons, but they deny that they are, or ever have been, Christians. Asthey invoked the gods, repeating the form after me, and offered prayers,together with incense and wine, to your image, which I had ordered to bebrought, together with those of the deities, and besides cursed Christ,whilst those who are true Christians, it is said, cannot be compelled todo any one of these things, I thought it right to set them at liberty.Others, when accused by an informer, confessed that they wereChristians, and soon after denied the fact; they said they had been, buthad ceased to be, some three, some more, not a few even twenty yearspreviously. All these worshipped your image and those of the gods, andcursed Christ. But they affirmed that the sum total of their fault ortheir error was, that they were accustomed to assemble on a fixed daybefore dawn, and sing an antiphonal hymn to Christ as God: that theybound themselves by an oath, not to the commission of any wickedness,but to abstain from theft, robbery, and adultery; never to break apromise, or to deny a deposit when it was demanded back. When theseceremonies were concluded, it was their custom to depart, and againassemble together to take food harmlessly and in common. That after myproclamation, in which, in obedience to your command, I had forbiddenassociations, they had desisted from this practice. For these reasons Ithe more thought it necessary to investigate the real truth, by puttingto the torture two maidens, who were called deaconesses; but Idiscovered nothing but a perverse and excessive superstition. I havetherefore deferred taking cognizance of the matter until I had consultedyou. For it seemed to me a case requiring advice, especially on accountof the number of those in peril. For many of every age, sex, and rank,are and will continue to be called in question. The infection, in fact,has spread not only through the cities, but also through the villagesand open country; but it seems that its progress can be arrested. At anyrate, it is clear that the temples which were almost deserted begin tobe frequented; and solemn sacrifices, which had been long intermitted,are again performed, and victims are being sold everywhere, for which upto this time a purchaser could rarely be found. It is therefore easy toconceive that crowds might be reclaimed if an opportunity for repentancewere given.”

 _Trajan to Pliny._

“In sifting the cases of those who have been indicted on the charge ofChristianity, you have adopted, my dear Secundus, the right course ofproceeding; for no certain rule can be laid down which will meet allcases. They must not be sought after, but if they are informed againstand convicted, they must be punished; with this proviso, however, thatif any one denies that he is a Christian, and proves the point byoffering prayers to our deities, notwithstanding the suspicions underwhich he has laboured, he shall be pardoned on his repentance. On noaccount should any anonymous charge be attended to, for it would be theworst possible precedent, and is inconsistent with the habits of ourtimes.”

Pliny’s accurate and judicious mind, his political and administrativeprudence, his taste for the beautiful, his power of description, hisunrivalled neatness, his skill in investing with a peculiar interestevery subject he takes in hand, may be amply proved by a perusal of hisLetters. His touches are neither too many nor too few. A mere note ofthanks for a present of thrushes[1298] shows as much skill, in its way,as his numerous elaborate despatches to the Emperor.[1299] His briefbiographical notice of Silius Italicus contains, in a few shortsentences, all that can be said favourably of the life and character ofhis correspondent. The sympathy which he felt for his friends, as wellas the delicacy of his panegyric, are exhibited in the few lines whichhe penned to Germinius on the death of the wife of Macrinus;[1300] hishonesty in the case of the inheritance of Pomponia;[1301] his legalskill in passages too numerous to specify; his descriptive power in thenarrative of the eruption of Vesuvius,[1302] in which his uncleperished; and in the full and minute description of his villa, itsrooms, furniture, works of art, garden, and surrounding scenery.

 CHAPTER X. M. FABIUS QUINTILIANUS—HIS BIOGRAPHY—HIS INSTITUTIONES ORATORIÆ—HISVIEWS ON EDUCATION—DIVISION OF HIS SUBJECTS INTO FIVE PARTS—REVIEW OF GREEK AND ROMAN LITERATURE—COMPLETENESS OF HIS GREAT WORK—HIS OTHER WORKS—HIS DISPOSITION—GRIEF FOR THE LOSS OF HIS SON.

 M. FABIUS QUINTILIANUS.

In this peculiarly rhetorical age, the most distinguished teacher ofrhetoric was M. Fabius Quintilianus. He attempted to restore a purer andmore classical taste; and although to a certain extent he wassuccessful, the effect which he produced was only temporary. He was,like Martial, a Spaniard, born[1303] at Calagurris, the modernCalahorra.[1304] At an early age he came to Rome, and had the advantageof hearing the celebrated orators Domitius Afer and Julius Africanus,whose eloquence he considered superior to that of theircontemporaries.[1305] How long he remained at Rome is uncertain; but heappears to have gone back to his native country, and then returned tothe capital together with the Emperor Galba.

Although he practised as a pleader, he was far more eminent as aninstructor. Domitian intrusted to him the education of his twogreat-nephews;[1306] and the younger Pliny was also one of hispupils.[1307] The Emperor’s favour conferred on him that reward to whichJuvenal alludes in the following lines:—

 Si Fortuna volet fies de rhetore consul;[1308]

and besides this he held one of the professorships which were endowed byVespasian with 100,000 sestertia per annum (800_l._[1309]) He thusformed an exception to the larger number of instructors and grammarianswho swarmed in Rome, who, depending on the fees of their pupils, earneda precarious subsistence,[1310] and was even able to purchase estatesand accumulate property.

But though more fortunate than many deserving members of his profession,he was not esteemed a wealthy man by the rich and luxurious Romans ofhis day; for his grateful pupil, Pliny, when he presented him with400_l._ towards his daughter’s portion, spoke of him as a man ofmoderate means.[1311] His expressions are:—“Te porro, animo beatissimum,modicum facultatibus scio.” The probability is that he was twicemarried. His first wife died at the early age of nineteen, leaving twosons, of whom death bereaved him in a few years.[1312] For theinstruction of the elder of these, who survived his younger brother forbut a short time, he wrote his great work. His second wife was thedaughter of one Tutilius, and the fruit of this marriage was an onlydaughter who married Nonius Celer, and to whom the liberal present ofPliny was made. For twenty years he discharged the duties of hisprofessorship, and then retired from active life; and died, as isgenerally supposed, about A. D. 118. His countryman, Martial,[1313]speaks of him as the glory of the Roman bar, and the head of hisprofession as an instructor:—

 Quintiliane, vagæ moderator summe juventæ, Gloria Romanæ, Quintiliane, togæ.[1314]

Quintilian’s great work is entitled _Institutiones Oratoriæ_, or acomplete instruction in the art of oratory: and in it he shows himselffar superior to Cicero as a teacher, although he was inferior to him asan orator. The rhetorical works of the great orator will not, in pointof fulness and completeness, bear a comparison with the elaboratetreatise of Quintilian. When engaged in its composition he had retiredfrom the duties of a public professor, and was only occupied, as hehimself states,[1315] with his duties as tutor to the great-nephew ofDomitian. He professes to have undertaken the task reluctantly, and atthe earnest solicitations of his friends. He thought that the ground wasalready pre-occupied, both by Greek and Latin writers of eminence. Butseeing how wide the field was, and that such a work must treat of allthose qualifications without which no one can be an orator, he compliedwith their entreaties, and dedicated his book to his friend MarcellusVictorius, as a token of his regard, and a useful contribution towardsthe education of his son. Two rhetorical treatises had already appearedunder his name, but not published by himself. One consisted of a lecturewhich occupied two days in delivery; the other a longer course: and bothhad been taken down in notes, and given to the public, as he says, byhis excellent but too partial pupils: (boni juvenes, sed nimium amantesmei.[1316])

On the Institutiones he professes to have expended the greatest painsand labour. He traces the progress of the orator from the very cradleuntil he arrives at perfection.[1317] He speaks of the importance ofearliest impressions, of the parental, especially the maternal care, andillustrates this by the example of Cornelia, to whom the Gracchi owedtheir eminence; and brings forward, as instances of female eloquence,the daughters of Lælius and Hortensius. He believes that education mustcommence, and the tastes be formed, and the moral character beimpressed, even in infancy. The choice, therefore, of a nurse is, in hisopinion, as important, as of early companions, pedagogues, andinstructors.

Both on account of the positive good to be acquired, and the evilresulting from the corrupt state of Roman society which the boy wouldthus avoid, he prefers a school to a home education.[1318] As weconsider the classical languages the best preparation for the study ofthe vernacular tongue,[1319] so he lays down as an axiom that educationin Greek literature should precede Latin. Grammar[1320] is to be thefoundation of education, together with its subdivisions, declension,construction,[1321] orthography,[1322] the use of words,[1323] rhythm,metre, the beauties and faults of style,[1324] reading,[1325] delivery,action;[1326] and to these are to be added music and geometry.[1327]

Primary education being completed, the young student is to betransferred to the care of the rhetorician.[1328] The choice of a properinstructor,[1329] as well as his duties and character,[1330] aredescribed; the necessary exercises, the reading and study of orationsand histories are recommended,[1331] and the nature, principles,objects, and utility of oratory are accurately investigated. In thethird book, after a short notice of the principal writers onrhetoric,[1332] he divides his subject into five parts,[1333] namely,invention, arrangement, style, memory, both natural and artificial, anddelivery or action. Closely following Aristotle, he then discusses thethree kinds of oratory, the demonstrative, deliberative, andjudicial.[1334] In the fourth, he treats of the physical divisions ofall orations, namely, the exordium,[1335] the narration,[1336]excursions or digressions,[1337] the question proposed,[1338] thedivision of topics.[1339] In that part of his treatise which discussesthe next division, namely, proofs, Aristotle is his chief guide, asmeeting, in his opinion, the universal assent of all mankind. The sixthbook analyzes the peroration, and also discusses the passions,[1340]moral habits,[1341] ridicule,[1342] and other topics, which complete thesubject of invention. The seventh treats of arrangement and its kindredtopics; the eighth and ninth of style and its essential qualities, suchas perspicuity,[1343] ornament[1344] tropes,[1345] amplification,[1346]figures of speech.[1347]

Facility, or as we, in common with the Romans, frequently term it,“_copia verborum_,”[1348] is the next division of the subject; and asoriginal invention has already occupied so large a portion of his work,he now endeavours to guide the student in imitating the excellencies ofthe best Greek and Latin writers; and tells him that the next duty, inpoint of importance, is to profit by the inventions of others.[1349] Awide field is thus opened before him, affording an opportunity for thedisplay of his extensive learning, his critical taste, his penetratingdiscrimination, and his great power of illustration.[1350]

He passes over in rapid review the whole history of Greek and Romanliterature. His remarks, though brief, are clear and decided, and aremarked with an attractive beauty and sound judgment, which have stoodthe test of ages, and recommend themselves to all who have beendistinguished for pure classical taste. So adroit is he in catching theleading features, that the portraits of great authors of antiquity,though only sketches and outlines, stand forth in bold and tangibleshape, each exhibiting marked and distinct characteristics. There arefew specimens of criticism so attractive, so suggestive, and which laysuch hold on the memory, as this portion of the Institutions ofQuintilian. Other subjects are also briefly handled in the tenth book,such as the necessity of pains and elaborate corrections, in order toform a polished style.[1351] The choice of materials,[1352] originalthought,[1353] the means of acquiring and perfecting a habit ofextemporaneous speaking.[1354]

The eleventh book is devoted to the subjects of appropriateness,memory,[1355] and delivery.[1356]

The twelfth opens with what the author designates[1357] as the mostgrave and important portion of the whole work, well worthy of thedignified character of true Roman virtue. Its subject is the high moralqualifications necessary for a perfect orator.[1358] Talent, wisdom,learning, eloquence are nothing, if the mind is distracted and tornasunder by vicious thoughts and depraved passions.[1359] The orator,therefore, must learn studies by what his moral character can alone beformed;[1360] he must possess that firmness of principle which willcause him fearlessly to practise what he knows. “Neque erit perfectusorator nisi qui honeste dicere et sciet et audebit.”

A knowledge of history[1361] and the principles of jurisprudence,[1362]he also considers indispensably necessary, notwithstanding the slightingway in which Cicero speaks of the antiquarian learning of thejurisconsults. Some practical rules[1363] are also added as to the timeof commencing practice in the courts, the rules to be observed inundertaking causes,[1364] and the cautions to be attended to inpreparing and pleading them.[1365] He deprecates the undertaking suchimportant duties early, although the call to the bar at Rome took placeas soon as the manly gown was assumed: tradition spoke of boys clothedwith the prætexta pleading. Cæsar Augustus, at twelve years old,publicly pronounced a eulogy on his grandmother, as did Tiberius at theearly age of nine over the body of his deceased father.[1366]

Enough has been said to show the fulness and completeness with whichQuintilian has exhausted his subject, and left, as a monument of histaste and genius, a text-book of the science and art of nations, as wellas a masterly sketch of the eloquence of antiquity.

There have been attributed to Quintilian, besides his great work,nineteen declamations or judicial speeches relating to imaginary suits;also one hundred and forty-five sketches of orations, the remains of alarger collection, consisting of three hundred and eighty-eight. Butthere is no evidence in favour of their being his, and their style seemsto show that they were the work of different authors and different ages.Neither is there any good reason for considering that the treatise onthe Causes of Corrupt Eloquence is the same as that to which he alludesin the proëmium to the sixth and the conclusion of the eighth book[1367]of the Institutions. Indeed, the almost unanimous opinion of scholarsassigns it to Tacitus. His works were discovered by Poggius, togetherwith those of Silius Italicus and L. Valerius Flaccus, in the monasteryof St. Gall, twenty miles from Constance, during the sitting of thecelebrated ecclesiastical council.

The disposition of Quintilian was as affectionate and tender as hisgenius was brilliant, and his taste pure. Few passages throughout thewhole range of Latin literature can be compared to that in which hemourns the loss of his wife and children. It is the touching eloquenceof one who could not write otherwise than gracefully; and if he murmursat the divine decrees, it must be remembered that his dearest hopes wereblighted, and that he had not the hopes, the consolation, or theteaching of a Christian. “I had a son,” he says, “whose eminent geniusdeserved a father’s anxious diligence. I thought that if—which I mightfairly have expected and wished for—death had removed me from him, Icould have left him, as the best inheritance, a father’s instructions.But by a second blow, a second bereavement, I have lost the object of myhighest hopes, the only comfort of my declining years. What shall I donow? Of what use can I suppose myself to be, as the gods have cast meoff? It happened that when I commenced my book on the Causes of CorruptEloquence, I was stricken by a similar blow. It would surely have beenbest then to have flung upon the funeral pile—which was destinedprematurely to consume all that bound me to life—my unlucky work, andthe ill-starred fruits of all my toils, and not to have wearied with newcares a life to which I so unnaturally clung. For what tender parentwould pardon me if I were able to study any longer, and not hate myfirmness of mind, if I, who survived all my dear ones, could find anyemployment for my tongue except to accuse the gods, and to protest thatno Providence looks down upon the affairs of men? If I cannot say thisin reference to my own case, to which no objection can be made exceptthat I survive, at least I can with reference to theirs—condemned to anunmerited and untimely grave.

“Their mother had before been torn from me, who had given birth to twosons before she had completed her nineteenth year; and though her deathwas a cruel blow to me, to her it was a happy one. To me the afflictionwas so crushing, that fortune could no longer restore me to happiness.For not only did the exercise of every feminine virtue render herhusband’s grief incurable, but, compared with my own age, she was but agirl, and therefore her loss may be accounted as that of a child. Still,my children survived, and were my joy and comfort, and she since Isurvived (a thing unnatural, although she wished it,) escaped by aprecipitate flight the agonies of grief. In my younger son, who died atfive years old, I lost one light of my eyes. I have no ambition to makemuch of my misfortunes, or to exaggerate the reasons which I have forsorrow; would that I had means of assuaging it! But how can I concealhis lovely countenance, his endearing talk, his sparkling wit, and (whatI feel can scarcely be believed) his calm and deep solidity of mind? Hadhe been another’s child he would have won my love. But insidiousfortune, in order to inflict on me severer anguish, made him moreaffectionate to me than to his nurses, his grandmother, who brought himup, and all who usually gain the attachment of children of that age.

“Thankful therefore do I feel for that sorrow in which but a few monthsbefore I was plunged by the loss of his matchless, his inestimablemother; for my lot was less a subject for tears than hers was forrejoicing. One only hope, support, and consolation, had remained in myQuintilian. He had not, like my younger son, just put forth his earlyblossoms, but entering on his tenth year had shown mature and well-setfruit. I swear by my misfortunes, by the consciousness of myunhappiness, by those departed spirits, the deities who preside over mygrief, that in him I discerned such vigour of intellect, not only in theacquisition of learning (and yet in all my extensive experience I neversaw it surpassed,) such a zeal for study, which, as his tutors cantestify, never required pressing, but also such uprightness, filialaffection, refinement, and generosity, as furnished grounds forapprehending the thunder-stroke which has fallen. For it is generallyobserved that a precocious maturity too quickly perishes; and there is Iknow not what envious power which deflowers our brightest hopes, lest wesoar higher than human beings are permitted to soar. He possessed alsothose gifts which are accidental—a clear and melodious voice, a sweetpronunciation, a correct enunciation of every letter both in Greek andLatin. Such promise did he give of future excellence; but he possessedalso the far higher qualities of constancy, earnestness, and firmness tobear sorrow and to resist fear. With what admiration did his physicianscontemplate the patience with which he endured a malady of eight months’duration! What consolation did he administer to me in his last moments!When life and intellect began to fail, his wandering mind dwelt onliterature alone. O! dearest object of my disappointed hopes! could Ibehold thy glazing eyes, thy fleeting breath? Could I embrace thy coldand lifeless form, and live to drink again the common air? Well do Ideserve these agonizing thoughts, these tortures which I endure!”

 CHAPTER XI. A. CORNELIUS CELSUS—HIS MERITS—CICERO MEDICORUM—SCRIBONIUS LARGUS DESIGNATIANUS—POMPONIUS MELA—L. JUNIUS MODERATUS COLUMELLA—S. JULIUS

FRONTINUS—DECLINE OF TASTE IN THE SILVER AGE—FOREIGN INFLUENCE ON ROMAN

 LITERATURE—CONCLUSION.

Such were the principal writers who adorned and illustrated theliterature of the silver age: it remains only to speak briefly of thosewhose works, although of minor interest, must not be passed over withoutnotice.

 AURELIUS CORNELIUS CELSUS.

Celsus was the author of many works on various subjects, of which one,in eight books, on Medicine, is now extant. The place of his birth andthe age at which he flourished are unknown, but he probably lived in thereign of Tiberius. He was a man of comprehensive, almost encyclopædicknowledge, and wrote on philosophy, rhetoric, agriculture, and evenstrategy. It has been doubted whether he ever practised medicine, or wasonly theoretically acquainted with the subject; but the independence ofhis views, the practical as well as the scientific nature of hisinstructions, are inconsistent with any hypothesis except that he hadhimself patiently watched the phenomena of morbid action andexperimented upon its treatment. Above all, his knowledge of surgery,and his clear exposition of surgical operations, necessarily imply thatpractical experience and reality of knowledge which never could havebeen acquired from books.

If we compare the masterly handling of the subject by Celsus with thehistory of medicine by Pliny,[1368] it is easy to distinguish the man ofpractical and experimental science from the collector and transcriber ofothers’ views. His manual of medicine embraces the following subjects:Diet,[1369] Pathology,[1370] Therapeutics,[1371] Surgery;[1372] andwithout entering into its peculiar merits, a task which could only beperformed satisfactorily by a professional writer, the highest testimonyis borne to its merits by the fact of its being used as a text-book evenin the present advanced state of medical science.

The study of medicine has a tendency to predispose the mind for generalscientific investigations in other departments not immediately connectedwith it. Hence the medical profession has numbered amongst its membersmany men of general scientific attainments; and Celsus was an example ofthis versatility. The taste of the age in which he lived turned hisattention also to polite literature; and to this may be ascribed theAugustan purity of his style, which gained for him the appellation of“Cicero Medicorum.”

 SCRIBONIUS LARGUS DESIGNATIANUS.

The “Cicero of physicians” was followed by Scribonius, an obsequiouscourt physician, in the reign of Claudius. He was the author of severalworks, one of which, a large collection of prescriptions, is extant. Inthe language of impious flattery, he calls the imbecile emperor a god.He is said to have accompanied him in his expedition to Britain.

 POMPONIUS MELA.

Pomponius Mela may be considered as the representative of the Romangeographers. He was a native of Tingentera, a town in Spain, and livedin the reign of Claudius. His treatise is entitled, “De Situ Orbis,Libri iii.” It is systematic and learned. The stores of informationderived from the Greek geographers are interspersed with entertainingmyths and lively descriptions. The knowledge, however, contained in itis all taken from books: it is an epitome of former treatises, and isnot enriched by the discoveries of more recent travellers. Thesimplicity of the style, and the almost Augustan purity of the Latinity,prevent even so bare a skeleton and list of facts from being dry anduninteresting.

 L. JUNIUS MODERATUS COLUMELLA.

The didactic work of Columella gives, in smooth and fluent, thoughsomewhat too diffuse, a style, the fullest and completest information onpractical agriculture amongst the Romans, in the first century of theChristian era. Pliny is the only classical author who mentions him; buthe refers to him as a competent authority. Columella himself informs usthat he was born at Gades (Cadiz,[1373]) and resided at Rome,[1374] buthad travelled in Syria and Cilicia.[1375] It is generally supposed thathe died and was buried at Tarentum.

His work, “_De Re Rusticâ_,” is divided into twelve books. It treats ofall subjects connected with the choice and management of a farm,[1376]the arrangement of farm buildings,[1377] the propagation and rearing ofstock,[1378] the cultivation of fruit trees,[1379] and householdeconomy.[1380] A calendar is attached to the eleventh book, pointing outthe cosmical risings and settings of the constellations, which markedthe successive seasons for various labours and other practical points ofrustic astronomy. The tenth book, the subject of which is horticulture,is in hexameters. It never rises quite to the height of poetry: it israther metrical prose, characterized, like the rest of his work, byfluency, and also expressed in correct versification. The reason whichhe gives for this variation from his plan is, that it is intended assupplementary to the Georgics of Virgil, and that in so doing he isfollowing the great poet’s own recommendations. In his preface to hisfriend Silvinus he thus expresses his intention:—“Postulatio tuapervicit ut poeticis numeris explerem Georgici carminis omissas partes,quas tamen et ipse Virgilius significaverat posteris se memorandasrelinquere.”

 SEXTUS JULIUS FRONTINUS.

Sex. Jul. Frontinus deserves a place amongst Roman classical writers asthe author of two works, both of which are still extant. The first,entitled, “Stratagematicon, Libri iv.,” was a treatise on militarytactics. The form in which he has enunciated his doctrines is that ofprecepts and anecdotes of celebrated military commanders. In this waythe necessary preparations for a battle, the stratagems resorted to infighting, the rules for conducting sieges, and the means of maintainingdiscipline in an army, are explained and illustrated in astraight-forward and soldier-like style.

As the object which he had in view in adducing his anecdotes isscientific illustration rather than historic truth, he is not veryparticular as to the sources from which his examples are derived. It isinteresting, however, to the antiquarian, if not of practical utility tothe tactician, as displaying the theory and practice of ancient warfare.This subject had in early times been treated of by Cato and Cincius, andafterwards by Hyginus in a treatise on Field Fortification (_deCastrametatione_,) and also in the epitome of Vegetius.

His other work, which has descended to modern times in a perfect state,is a descriptive architectural treatise, in two books, on thosewonderful monuments of Roman art, the aqueducts. But besides these,fragments remain of other works, which assign Frontinus an importantplace in the estimation of the student of Roman history. These aretreatises on surveying, and the laws and customs relating to landedproperty. They were partly of a scientific, partly of a jurisprudentialcharacter, and are to be found amongst the works of the _Agri-mensores_,or _Rei Agrariæ Scriptores_. The difficulty and obscurity of everythingconnected with Roman agrarian institutions is well known; and everyfragment relating to them is valuable, because of the probability of itsthrowing light upon so important a subject. Niebuhr[1381] saw theirvalue, and pronounced that “the fragments of Frontinus were the onlywork amongst the _Agri-mensores_ which can be counted a part ofclassical literature, or which was composed with any legal knowledge.”These fragments, therefore, may be taken as a favourable specimen ofthis class of writers, amongst whom were Siculus Flaccus, ArgeniusUrbicus, and Hyginus (Grammaticus.)

Of the life of Frontinus himself very few facts are known. He was cityprætor in the reign of Vespasian,[1382] and succeeded Cerealis asgovernor of Britain. He made a successful campaign against theSilures[1383] (S. Wales,) and was succeeded by Agricola, A. D. 78. Hewas subsequently _curator aquarum_,[1384] an office which probablysuggested the composition of his practical manual on aqueducts. He alsohad a seat in the college of augurs, in which, after his death,[1385] hewas succeeded by the younger Pliny.

With this third epoch a history of Roman classical literature comes to aclose. In the silver age taste had gradually but surely declined; andalthough the Roman language and literature shone forth for a time withclassic radiance in the writings of Persius, Juvenal, Quintilian,Tacitus, and the Plinies, nothing could arrest its fall. In vainemperors endeavoured to encourage learning by pecuniary rewards andsalaried professorships: it languished together with the death ofconstitutional freedom, the extinction of patriotism, and the decay ofthe national spirit. Poetry had become declamation. History haddegenerated either into fulsome panegyric, or the fleshless skeletons ofepitomes; and at length Romans seemed to disdain the use of their nativetongue—that tongue which laborious pains had brought to such a height ofpolish and perfection, and wrote in Greek, as they had in the infancy ofthe national literature, when Latin was too rude and imperfect to imbodythe ideas which they had derived from their Greek instructors.

The Emperor Hadrian resided long at Athens, and became imbued with ataste and admiration for Greek; and thus the literature of Rome becameHellenized. From this epoch the term Classical can no longer be appliedto it, for it did not retain its purity. To Greek influence succeededthe still more corrupting one of foreign nations. Even with the death ofNerva the uninterrupted succession of emperors of Roman or Italian birthceased. Trajan himself was a Spaniard; and after him not only barbariansof every European race, but even Orientals and Africans were investedwith the imperial purple. The empire also over which they ruled was anunwieldy mass of heterogeneous materials. The literary influence of thecapital was not felt in the distant portions of the Roman dominions.Schools were established in the very heart of nations just emerging frombarbarism—at Burdegala (Bourdeaux,) Lugdunum (Lyons,) and AugustaTrevirorum (Treves;) and, although the blessings of civilization andintellectual culture were thus distributed far and wide, still literarytaste, as it filtered through the minds of foreigners, became corrupted,and the language of the imperial city, exposed to the infectious contactof barbarous idioms, lost its purity.[1386]

The Latin authors of this period were numerous, and many of them wereChristians; but few had taste to appreciate and imitate the literatureof the Augustan age. The brightest stars which illuminated the darknesswere A. Gellius, L. Apuleius, T. Petronius Arbiter, the learned authorof the Saturnalia; the Christian ethical philosopher, L. CœliusLactantius; and that poet, in whom the graceful imagination of classicalantiquity seems to have revived, the flattering and courtly Claudian.

 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.

────────┬────────┬──────────────────────────┬────────────────────────── B. C. │A. U. C.│ LITERARY CHRONOLOGY. │ CIVIL CHRONOLOGY.────────┼────────┼──────────────────────────┼────────────────────────── │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ FIRST ERA. │ │ │ │ 753–510│ 1–244│Chant of the Arvalian │Regal period. │ │ Brotherhood; Saturnian │ │ │ measure; Salian hymn; │ │ │ Pontifical annals; Libri│ │ │ Lintei. │ 449│ 305│Laws of the Twelve Tables;│The Decemvirs deposed. │ │ the so-called Leges │ │ │ Regiæ. │ 390│ 364│ - - - │Rome taken by Gauls. 364│ 390│Stage-players sent for │The year following the │ │ from Etruria. │ death of Camillus. 326–304│ 428–450│The Tiburtine inscription │Second Samnite War. │ │ - │ 280│ 474│Appius Claudius Cæcus; Ti.│The year following the │ │ Coruncanius. │ arrival of Pyrrhus. 264│ 490│ - - - │Commencement of first │ │ │ Punic war. 260│ 494│The Columna Rostrata; │Fifth year of the first │ │ epitaphs on the Scipios.│ Punic war. 241│ 513│ - - - │CONCLUSION OF THE FIRST │ │ │ PUNIC WAR. 240│ 514│Livius Andronicus. │ 239│ 515│Birth of Ennius. │ 235│ 519│Cnæus Nævius flourished. │The Temple of Janus closed │ │ │ for the second time. 227│ 527│Birth of Plautus; funeral │ │ │ oration of Q. Metellus. │ 219│ 535│Q. Fabius Pictor; L. │ │ │ Cincius Alimentus; birth│ │ │ of Pacuvius │ 204│ 550│Ennius brought to Rome; │ │ │ Corn. Cethegus; P. │ │ │ Licinius Crassus. │ 201│ 553│Speech of Fabius │Conclusion of second Punic │ │ Cunctator; Sextus Ælius │ war. │ │ Catus. │ 195│ 559│M. Porcius Cato consul; │ │ │ Licinius Tegula. │ 186│ 568│Senatus-consultum │The year following the │ │ respecting the │ condemnation of L. │ │ Bacchanals. │ Scipio. 184│ 570│Cæcilius Statius │Censorship of M. Porcius │ │ flourished; he died │ Cato. │ │ A. U. C. 586; death of │ │ │ Plautus. │ 183│ 571│ - - - │Deaths of Hannibal and │ │ │ Scipio Africanus. 181│ 573│The (so-called) books of │ │ │ Numa found. │ 179│ 575│ - - - │Accession of Perseus. 170│ 584│Attius born. │ 168│ 586│ - - - │Defeat of Perseus at │ │ │ Pydna. 166│ 588│Terence exhibits the │ │ │ Andrian; Sp. Carvilius; │ │ │ C. Sulpicius Gallus; │ │ │ Lavinius Luscius; T. │ │ │ Manlius Torquatus. │ 155│ 599│The three Attic │ │ │ philosophers visit Rome;│ │ │ C. Acilius Glabrio; │ │ │ Crates Mallotes. │ 154│ 600│M. Pacuvius; Scipio │ │ │ Æmilianus; Lælius. │ 150│ 604│L. Afranius; S. Sulpicius │ │ │ Galba. │ 148│ 606│Birth of C. Lucilius; │Second year of the third │ │ Cassius Hemina; A. │ Punic war. │ │ Postumius Albinus │ 146│ 608│ - - - │End of third Punic war; │ │ │ Carthage and Corinth │ │ │ taken. 138│ 616│L. Attius flourished; Q. │Dec. Jun. Brutus consul. │ │ F. M. Servilianus; C. │ │ │ Fannius; Vennonius; C. │ │ │ Sempronius │ 133│ 621│M. Junius Brutus; P. │Murder of Tib. Gracchus; │ │ Mucius Scævola; L. │ Numantia taken. │ │ Cælius Antipater; Cn. S.│ │ │ and A. Gellii; L. │ │ │ Calpurnius Piso Frugi; │ │ │ Papirius Carbo; Lepidus │ │ │ Porcina; Ælius Tubero. │ 129│ 625│ - - - │Death of Scipio Æmilianus; │ │ │ æt. 56. 123│ 631│C. Sempronius Gracchus; │ │ │ Sextus Turpilius; C. │ │ │ Lucilius flourished; │ │ │ Lævius; (?) C. Junius │ │ │ Gracchanus; M. Julius │ │ │ Pennus. │ 119│ 635│L. Licinius Crassus │ │ │ accuses Carbo; M. │ │ │ Antonius (born B. C. │ │ │ 144.) │ 113│ 641│ - - - │War begun with the Cimbri. 111│ 643│ - - - │First year of Jugurthine │ │ │ war. 109│ 645│Publius Sempronius │ │ │ Asellio; M. Æmilius │ │ │ Scaurus; P. Rutilius │ │ │ Rufus; Q. Lutatius │ │ │ Catulus. │ 106│ 648│Birth of Cicero │Birth of Cn. Pompeius. 100│ 654│L. Ælius Stilo │Birth of Julius Cæsar. 95│ 659│Cotta; the Sulpicii; │ │ │ Hortensius; Q. Mucius │ │ │ Scævola; Lucretius born.│ 91│ 663│Death of the orator │ │ │ Crassus. │ 90│ 664│C. Licinius Macer; Q. │Commencement of the Social │ │ Claudius Quadrigarius; │ war. │ │ Q. Valerius Antias; L. │ │ │ Lucullus; Sulla; Plotius│ │ │ Gallus. │ 87│ 667│M. Antonius killed; │Massacres by Cinna and │ │ Catullus born. │ Marius. 86│ 668│Birth of Sallust │Death of Marius. 84│ 670│Attius probably died about│ │ │ this time, and Latin │ │ │ acting tragedy │ │ │ disappeared; L. │ │ │ Cornelius Sisenna. │ 82│ 672│Births of Varro Atacinus │Sulla’s proscription. │ │ and Licinius Calvus │ │ │ Valerius Cato. │ 78│ 676│Commencement of Sallust’s │Death of Sulla. │ │ history. │ 76│ 678│Birth of Asinius Pollio. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ SECOND ERA. │ │ │ │ 74│ 680│Roman prose literature │Third Mithridatic war │ │ arrived at its greatest │ began. │ │ perfection; Cicero │ │ │ twenty-two years of age.│ 72│ 682│ - - - │Murder of Sertorius. 71│ 683│ - - - │Defeat of Spartacus. 70│ 684│Cicero accuses Verres; │ │ │ Virgil born. │ 67│ 687│C. Aquilius Gallus; C. │Pompey, entrusted with the │ │ Juventius; Sext. │ war against the Pirates. │ │ Papirius; L. Lucilius │ │ │ Balbus. │ 65│ 689│Birth of Horace │First Catilinarian │ │ │ conspiracy. 63│ 691│Pomponius Atticus; M. │Consulship of Cicero; │ │ Terentius Varro │ birth of Augustus; │ │ Reatinus; L. Lueceius; │ Jerusalem taken by │ │ Nigidius Figulus; │ Pompey. │ │ Orbilius came to Rome in│ │ │ the fiftieth year of his│ │ │ age (Suet. de Ill. Gram.│ │ │ 9;) Q. Cornificius. │ 61│ 693│Oration for Archias │Acquittal of Clodius. 60│ 694│ - - - │First triumvirate. 59│ 695│Birth of T. Livius. │ 55│ 699│ - - - │Cæsar’s first invasion of │ │ │ Britain. 54│ 700│Julius Cæsar; Lucretius │Cæsar’s second invasion of │ │ Carus; C. Val. Catullus;│ Britain. │ │ Æsopus; Q. Roscius; │ │ │ Licinius Calvus; Helvius│ │ │ Cinna; Ticida; │ │ │ Bibaculus; Varro │ │ │ Atacinus; Cornelius │ │ │ Nepos; A. Hirtius; C. │ │ │ Oppius; S. Sulpicius │ │ │ Rufus. │ 52│ 702│Death of Lucretius. │ 49│ 705│D. Laberius; C. Matius; P.│J. Cæsar appointed │ │ Syrus. │ Dictator. 48│ 706│ - - - │Battle of Pharsalia; │ │ │ murder of Pompey. 46│ 708│ - - - │Cæsar reforms the │ │ │ calendar. 44│ 710│C. Sallustius Crispus; │Murder of Julius Cæsar. │ │ Atteius Philologus; │ │ │ Asinius Pollio. │ 43│ 711│Death of Cicero; Valgius │Second triumvirate formed. │ │ Rufus; birth of Ovid; │ │ │ death of Laberius. │ 42│ 712│Horace at Philippi. │ 40│ 714│ - - - │Treaty of Brundisium. 34│ 720│Death of Sallust. │ 32│ 722│Death of Atticus. │War declared against │ │ │ Antony. 31│ 723│Virgilius Maro (born B. C.│Battle of Actium. │ │ 70;) Mæcenas; Horatius │ │ │ Flaccus; L. Varius; │ │ │ Albius Tibullus; │ │ │ Cornelius Gallus; │ │ │ Plotius Tucca; │ │ │ Bathyllus; Pylades; │ │ │ Trogus Pompeius. │ 29│ 725│ - - - │The three triumphs of │ │ │ Octavius; temple of │ │ │ Janus closed. 28│ 726│Palatine library founded; │ │ │ death of Varro. │ 27│ 727│ - - - │Octavius receives the │ │ │ title of Augustus. 25│ 729│J. Hyginus; S. Aurelius │ │ │ Propertius; Æmilius │ │ │ Macer; Ovidius Naso; │ │ │ Gratius Faliscus; Pedo │ │ │ Albinovanus; A. Sabinus;│ │ │ T. Livius; Ateius │ │ │ Capito; Vitruvius; Q. │ │ │ Cæcilius Epirota. │ 19│ 735│Death of Virgil. │ 18│ 734│Death of Tibullus. │ 17│ 737│Carmen seculare of │Ludi sæculares. Porcius │ │ Horatius; │ Latro. 15│ 739│ - - - │Tiberius and Drusus │ │ │ conquer the Vindelici. 9│ 745│History of Livy │ │ │ terminates. │ 8│ 746│Death of Horace │The month Sextilis named │ │ │ Augustus. 4│ 750│ - - - │BIRTH OF OUR LORD JESUS │ │ │ CHRIST. │ │ │ A. D.│ │ │ 4│ 758│Death of Asinius Pollio. │ 9│ 763│Exile of Ovid │Defeat of Quintilius │ │ │ Varus. 14│ 767│ - - - │Death of Augustus. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │THIRD ERA. │ │ │ │ 16│ 769│T. Phædrus │Sejanus the imperial │ │ │ favourite. 18│ 771│C. Asinius Gallus; deaths │ │ │ of Ovid and Livy; │ │ │ Valerius Maximus. │ 23│ 776│Birth of C. Plinius │Murder of Drusus. │ │ Secundus. │ 25│ 778│Birth of Silius Italicus; │ │ │ death of Cremutius │ │ │ Cordus; M. Annæus │ │ │ Seneca; A. Cornelius │ │ │ Celsus; Arellius Fuscus;│ │ │ Valerius Maximus. │ 30│ 783│Velleius Paterculus writes│ │ │ his history. │ 31│ 784│ - - - │Fall of Sejanus. 34│ 787│A. Persius Flaccus born. │ 37│ 790│ - - - │Death of Tiberius. 40│ 793│Lucan brought to Rome. │ 41│ 794│Exile of Seneca │Caligula assassinated; │ │ │ Claudius emperor. 43│ 796│Birth of Martial; │Expedition of Claudius to │ │ Pomponius Mela; L. │ Britain. │ │ Junius Columella; │ │ │ Remmius Fannius Palæmon.│ 49│ 802│Recall of Seneca. │ 54│ 807│L. Annæus Seneca; M. │Accession of Nero. │ │ Annæus Lucanus; │ │ │ Cornutus; Persius; │ │ │ Cæsius Bassus; C. Silius│ │ │ Italicus; Q. Curtius │ │ │ Rufus. │ 59│ 812│ - - - │Murder of Agrippina. 61│ 814│Pliny the Younger born │Boadicea conquered by │ │ │ Suetonius Paullinus. 62│ 815│Death of Persius. │ 65│ 818│Deaths of Seneca and │ │ │ Lucan. │ 66│ 819│Martial came to Rome. │ 69│ 822│ - - - │Accession of Vespasian. 70│ 823│Saleius Bassus; C. │Jerusalem taken by Titus. │ │ Valerius Flaccus. │ 74│ 827│The dialogue _De │ │ │ Oratoribus_ supposed to │ │ │ have been written. │ 77│ 830│C. Plinius Secundus Major │ │ │ flourished. │ 78│ 831│ - - - │Agricola Governor of │ │ │ Britain. 79│ 832│Death of Pliny the Elder │Destruction of Herculaneum │ │ │ and Pompeii. 80│ 833│ - - - │The Coliseum built. 81│ 834│ - - - │Accession of Domitian. 90│ 843│M. F. Quintilianus; the │ │ │ Philosophers expelled by│ │ │ Domitian; Papinius │ │ │ Statius; Martialis. │ 93│ 846│ - - - │Death of Agricola. 96│ 849│ - - - │Assassination of Domitian. 98│ 851│C. Cornelius Tacitus; C. │Accession of Trajan. │ │ Plinius Minor; Julius │ │ │ Frontinus; Suetonius │ │ │ Tranquillus; Annæus │ │ │ Florus; Julius │ │ │ Obsequens; D. Junius │ │ │ Juvenalis. │ 104│ 857│Pliny’s letter respecting │ │ │ the Christians. │ 117│ 870│ - - - │Accession of Hadrian. 138│ 891│S. Pomponius; Gaius │Accession of Antoninus │ │ │ Pius. 161│ 914│L. Appuleius; Minucius │Accession of M. Aurelius. │ │ Felix; Tertullian. │────────┴────────┴──────────────────────────┴──────────────────────────

 THE END.

Footnote 1:

 B. C. 210; A. U. C. 514.

Footnote 2:

 A. D. 138; A. U. C. 891.

Footnote 3:

 See Forster’s Essay on Greek Quantity, c. vi.

Footnote 4:

 Pol. Hist. iii. 22; see Donaldson’s Varron.

Footnote 5:

 Plin. N. H. iii. 14.

Footnote 6:

 See Thucyd. ii. 6.

Footnote 7:

 Lib. v. 33.

Footnote 8:

 Müller, Etrusk. iv. 7, 8.

Footnote 9:

 See authorities quoted by Dennis, Cities of Etruria, i. xxiv.

Footnote 10:

 Lib. i. 94.

Footnote 11:

 Tac. Ann. iv. 55.

Footnote 12:

 Lib. i. p. 22, 24.

Footnote 13:

 Lib. i. 93.

Footnote 14:

 Cistell. II. iii. 20.

Footnote 15:

 A Cyclopean or Pelasgian wall, built of polygonal stones, without mortar, exists so far north as Düsternbrook, near Kiel, in Schleswig-Holstein.

Footnote 16:

 Ueber die Tyr. Pel. in Etr. Leips. 1842.

Footnote 17:

 Varronianus, i. sec. 10.

Footnote 18:

 Heyne, Exc. Virg. Æn. iii.

Footnote 19:

 The religion of Rome furnishes many other traces of Etruscan influence:—_ex. gr._, the ceremonies of the augurs and haruspices were Etruscan, and the lituus, or augur’s staff, may be seen on old Etruscan monuments. The Tuscan Fortune, Nortia, the etymology of whose name (ne-verto) coincides with that of the Greek Ἀτροπος (the unchangeable,) had the nails, the emblem of necessity, as her device; and hence the consul marked the commencement of the year by driving a nail.

 The Roman Hymen, the god of marriage, was Talassius; a fact which illustrates one of the incidents in the tradition which Livy (book i. c. ix.) adopts respecting the rape of the Sabine virgins.

 The name Talassius was evidently derived from the Tuscan name Thalna, or Talana, by which was designated the Juno Pronuba of the Romans, and the Ἡρη τελειά of the Greeks.

Footnote 20:

 Owing to the existence of the Pelasgian element in Latin, as well as in Greek, an affinity can be traced between these languages and the Sanscrit in no fewer than 339 Greek and 319 Latin words.

Footnote 21:

 See Donaldson’s Varron., c. iii.

Footnote 22:

 Leps. de Tab. Eug., p. 86.

Footnote 23:

 B. C. 354.

Footnote 24:

 Varronianus, c. iii.

Footnote 25:

 See Grotefend, Rud. Ling. Umbr. Hanov. 1835; and Lassen. Beitrage zur Eug. Tafeln. Rhein. Mus. 1833.

Footnote 26:

 Liv. vii. 11.

Footnote 27:

 A. U. C. 361; B. C. 393.

Footnote 28:

 Liv. x. 20.

Footnote 29:

 Lect. on Rom. Hist. l. xxxiii.

Footnote 30:

 A. U. C. 664; B. C. 90.

Footnote 31:

 Pp. 86–89.

Footnote 32:

 Micali, Tav. cxx.

Footnote 33:

 Orellii Inscr. 1384.

Footnote 34:

 Cities of Etruria, i. p. 225.

Footnote 35:

 See Etrusc. Alphabet. Lanzi, Saggio di L. E. i. 208.

Footnote 36:

 Herod. i. 167.

Footnote 37:

 Virg. Æn. viii. 597.

Footnote 38:

 Dennis, ii. 44.

Footnote 39:

 Ibid. ii. 53.

Footnote 40:

 Ibid. ii. 55.

Footnote 41:

 Varron., p. 127.

Footnote 42:

 Etrusk. i. p. 451.

Footnote 43:

 Schoell. Hist. de Lit. Rom. i. p. 42; Orell. Insc. 2270.

Footnote 44:

 Circ. A. D. 218.

Footnote 45:

 De L. L. vii. 26, 27, or vi. 1–3.

Footnote 46:

 Varronianus, vi. 4.

Footnote 47:

 See _ex. gr._ Liv. i. 26.

Footnote 48:

 S. V. V. Plorare, Occisum, Pellices, Parricidi, Quæstores, &c.

Footnote 49:

 Lib. i. 26

Footnote 50:

 H. N. xxxii. 2.

Footnote 51:

 Ch. vi.

Footnote 52:

 Dionys. x. 57.

Footnote 53:

 Liv. iii. 54, A. D.

Footnote 54:

 Nieb. R. H. iii. 264.

Footnote 55:

 A. U. C. 428–50, Arnold; 423–44, Niebuhr.

Footnote 56:

 Page 499.

Footnote 57:

 Rom. Hist.

Footnote 58:

 Varron. vi. 20.

Footnote 59:

 Orell. No. 550.

Footnote 60:

 Ibid. No. 552. Meyer’s Anth. Nos. 1, 2; where see also No. 5.

Footnote 61:

 B. C. 259.

Footnote 62:

 Orellius, No. 549.

Footnote 63:

 Liv. xlii. 20.

Footnote 64:

 Tac. Ann. ii. 49.

Footnote 65:

 A. U. C. 568; B. C. 186.

Footnote 66:

 Livy, xxxix. 18.

Footnote 67:

 Schoell, i. 52.

Footnote 68:

 Ver. 276.

Footnote 69:

 Lib. vi. 3, 47.

Footnote 70:

 See Bythner’s Lyra Prophet.

Footnote 71:

 See epitaph on L. C. Scipio.

Footnote 72:

 See Bant. Table.

Footnote 73:

 Elem. Doc. Met. iii. 9.

Footnote 74:

 P. 212.

Footnote 75:

 Ep. Phal. xi.

Footnote 76:

 The term _axamenta_ is derived from the old Latin word _axo_, to name.

Footnote 77:

 Lib. i. 26.

Footnote 78:

 Pro Rab. 4, 13.

Footnote 79:

 Brutus, xix.

Footnote 80:

 Liv. xxv. 12.

Footnote 81:

 Liv. v. 16.

Footnote 82:

 Elem. Doc. Metr. iii. 9.

Footnote 83:

 Lays of Rome, Preface, p. 19.

Footnote 84:

 Alterno terram quatiunt pede.—_Hor. Od._

Footnote 85:

 See Meyer, Anthol. Lat. 207, 212.

Footnote 86:

 Gray’s Works, ii. 30–54.

Footnote 87:

 A. U. C. 513; B. C. 241.

Footnote 88:

 B. C. 240; A. U. C. 514.

Footnote 89:

 B. C. 81; A. U. C. 673.

Footnote 90:

 A. D. 14.

Footnote 91:

 A. D. 138.

Footnote 92:

 Brut. 19; Tusc. Dis. i. 2; iv. 2.

Footnote 93:

 Lib. ix. 36.

Footnote 94:

 De Rep. i. 20.

Footnote 95:

 Lib. iv. 7, 13, 20.

Footnote 96:

 In Virg. Æn. i. 372. See also Cic. Or. ii. 12; and Quinct, Ins. Or. x. 2, 7.

Footnote 97:

 Cic. Brut. 16.

Footnote 98:

 Hor. Ep. II. i. 139, &c.

Footnote 99:

 Sermon. i. 4, 6.

Footnote 100:

 Virg. Georg. II. 385; Tibull. II. i. 55; Catull. 61, 27.

Footnote 101:

 Sub voc.

Footnote 102:

 Bernhardy’s Grundriss, 379; Diomedes, Gr. iii. 487; Val. Max. ii. 4; Festus v. person. fab.

Footnote 103:

 Now St. Arpino.

Footnote 104:

 Cic. Ep. ad Pap.

Footnote 105:

 Juv. Sat. iii. 172.

Footnote 106:

 V. Schlegel, lect. viii.

Footnote 107:

 B. C. 364; A. U. C. 390.

Footnote 108:

 Livy, vii. 2.

Footnote 109:

 Lect. R. H. lxx.

Footnote 110:

 Lib. xxvii. 34: xxiv. 20.

Footnote 111:

 Liv. i. 9, 35.

Footnote 112:

 Ibid. i. 35.

Footnote 113:

 Elem. Doctr. Metr. iii. 9.

Footnote 114:

 71.

Footnote 115:

 Ep. II. i. 69.

Footnote 116:

 Liv. vii. 2.

Footnote 117:

 Brut. 72.

Footnote 118:

 B. C. 240.

Footnote 119:

 Noct. Att. See also Quinct. I. O. x. 2, 7.

Footnote 120:

 See Bothe, Poetæ Scen. Roman. Trag.

Footnote 121:

 For the slight differences between a Greek and Roman theatre, the reader is referred to Smith’s Dictionary of Antiquities, _sub voce_.

Footnote 122:

 Ep. ad Fam. vii. 1.

Footnote 123:

 Roman critics divide comedy into _Comœdia Palliata_, in which the characters, and therefore the costume, were Greek; and _Togata_, in which they were Roman. Comœdia Togata was again subdivided into Trabeata, or genteel comedy, and Tabernaria, or low comedy. The Fabulæ Prætextatæ were historical plays, like those of Shakspeare.

Footnote 124:

 Klussman, Frag. Næv.

Footnote 125:

 Cic. Cat. 14.

Footnote 126:

 Noct. Att. i. 24; xvii. 21.

Footnote 127:

 A. U. C. 519.

Footnote 128:

 A. U. C. 550; B. C. 204.

Footnote 129:

 B. C. 367.

Footnote 130:

 B. C. 300.

Footnote 131:

 B. C. 312.

Footnote 132:

 Cic. Verres, i. 10.

Footnote 133:

 See Arnold’s Rome, l. 289.

Footnote 134:

 Miles Glorios. II., ii. 56.

Footnote 135:

 A. Gell. iii. 3.

Footnote 136:

 B. C. 204. See Cic. Brut. 15.

Footnote 137:

 Ep. ii. 153; Brutus, 19.

Footnote 138:

 Pierron, Hist. de la R. 42.

Footnote 139:

 Lib. i. 198.

Footnote 140:

 Cic. Brut. 19; Macr. vi. 2.

Footnote 141:

 Brutus, 76.

Footnote 142:

 Meyer’s Anthol. Lat.

Footnote 143:

 Meyer’s Anthol. Lat.

Footnote 144:

 II. Epist. i. 49.

Footnote 145:

 Horace, 1 Serm. iv. 10.

Footnote 146:

 A. U. C. 515.

Footnote 147:

 Claudian, xxiii. 7.

Footnote 148:

 Silius It.

Footnote 149:

 B. C. 204.

Footnote 150:

 B. C. 198.

Footnote 151:

 B. C. 189.

Footnote 152:

 Meyer, Anthol. Vet. Rom. No. 19.

Footnote 153:

 Meyer, No. 16.

Footnote 154:

 Smith’s Dict. of Biograph. s. v. Ennius.

Footnote 155:

 Ep. ii. 50.

Footnote 156:

 Meyer, Anthol. 515–585.

Footnote 157:

 Cic. Brut. 76.

Footnote 158:

 Andromache.

Footnote 159:

 A. Gellius.

Footnote 160:

 Pierron, Rom. Lit. p. 74.

Footnote 161:

 B. C. 280.

Footnote 162:

 B. C. 214.

Footnote 163:

 De Nat. Deor. i. 42.

Footnote 164:

 See Lecture vii. of A. W. V. Schlegel.

Footnote 165:

 Ep. ad Pison. 202.

Footnote 166:

 From Tzur, ‏צוֹר‎.

Footnote 167:

 Colman illustrates the preface to his translation of Terence with an engraving from a bas-relief in the Farnese Palace, in which these flutes are introduced. The original represents a scene in the Andria, and contains Simo, Davus, Chremes, and Dromo, with a knotted cord.

Footnote 168:

 I. O. ii. 10.

Footnote 169:

 Donatus says, “Diverbia (_the dialogues_) histriones pronuntiabant; cantica (_the soliloquies_) vero temperabantur modis non a poetâ sed a perito artis musicæ factis.”

Footnote 170:

 Cic. de Orat. iii. 45.

Footnote 171:

 Ibid. 41.

Footnote 172:

 Phorm. Prol. 18; Ecl. iii. 96.

Footnote 173:

 A. U. C. 527; B. C. 227.

Footnote 174:

 A. U. C. 570; B. C. 184. See Cic. Brut. 15.

Footnote 175:

 Lect. lxx.

Footnote 176:

 A. Gell. iii. 3.

Footnote 177:

 See Smith’s Biog. Dict. s. v.

Footnote 178:

 Lect. on Rom. Hist. lxx.

Footnote 179:

 Quint. x. 1, 99.

Footnote 180:

 De Off. i. 29.

Footnote 181:

 Lib. i. 24.

Footnote 182:

 Quint. x. 1, 90.

Footnote 183:

 Hor. Ep. ii. 1, 58.

Footnote 184:

 Bacch. ii. 2.

Footnote 185:

 The plot of the Phasma of Menander is as follows:—A woman who has married a second husband has a daughter concealed in the next house, with whom she has secret interviews by means of a communication through the party-wall. In order the better to carry on her clandestine plan, she pretends that she has intercourse with a supernatural being, who visits her in answer to her invocations. Her step-son by accident sees the maiden, and is at first awe-struck, thinking that he had beheld a goddess; but, discovering the truth, he is captivated with her beauty. A happy marriage, with the consent of all parties, concludes the play.

Footnote 186:

 De Sen. 50.

Footnote 187:

 Act v. scene i.

Footnote 188:

 See Plaut. Ed. Var. pp. 1320 and 2095.

Footnote 189:

 See Prol. 18.

Footnote 190:

 See act iv. scene ii.

Footnote 191:

 De Opt. Gen. Dic. i.

Footnote 192:

 Noct. Att. ii. 33.

Footnote 193:

 Varro.

Footnote 194:

 Horace.

Footnote 195:

 Varro.

Footnote 196:

 De Opt. Gen. Orat. i.

Footnote 197:

 Brut. 258.

Footnote 198:

 Lib. vii. 3.

Footnote 199:

 Ep. ii. 1.

Footnote 200:

 B. C. 193.

Footnote 201:

 See Life of Ter. in Ed. Varior.

Footnote 202:

 See Smith’s Dict. of Ant. s. v.

Footnote 203:

 B. C. 166; A. U. C. 588.

Footnote 204:

 Valerius Paterc.

Footnote 205:

 Phorm. v. viii.

Footnote 206:

 Andr. v. ii.

Footnote 207:

 Eunuchus, v. iv.

Footnote 208:

 Fr. Incert. 6.

Footnote 209:

 Satis pol, &c., iv. 4, 1.

Footnote 210:

 Hier. Chron. Ol. clv. 3.

Footnote 211:

 B. C. 166.

Footnote 212:

 De Orat. ii. 81.

Footnote 213:

 Act i. scene i.

Footnote 214:

 Act v. scene iii. 25.

Footnote 215:

 A. U. C. 592; B. C. 167.

Footnote 216:

 In Vita Ter.

Footnote 217:

 Act v. scene ix.

Footnote 218:

 Act ii. scene iii.

Footnote 219:

 A. U. C. 590; B. C. 163.

Footnote 220:

 Spect. No. 502.

Footnote 221:

 Prol. 46.

Footnote 222:

 Prol. 27.

Footnote 223:

 A. U. C. 592; B. C. 161.

Footnote 224:

 See Prol. i.

Footnote 225:

 B. C. 165; A. U. C. 588.

Footnote 226:

 See Prol. ii.

Footnote 227:

 A. U. C. 593; B. C. 161.

Footnote 228:

 Warton, in the Adventurer.

Footnote 229:

 Cic. Brut. 167.

Footnote 230:

 Quint. x. i. 100

Footnote 231:

 Lib. xiv. 20.

Footnote 232:

 Lib. i. 2.

Footnote 233:

 Lib. iv. ii.

Footnote 234:

 De Fin. ii. 4; Tusc. Dis. iv. 31.

Footnote 235:

 Dict. Univ. s. v.

Footnote 236:

 See Smith’s Dict. of Antiq. s. v.

Footnote 237:

 See on this subject Lange, Vind. Trag. Rom. Leips. 1823.

Footnote 238:

 Hor. Serm. i. 9, 23; Ep. Pis. 55; Mart. Ep. viii. 18.

Footnote 239:

 Juv. Sat. x. 80.

Footnote 240:

 Liv. xxii. 49.

Footnote 241:

 Cic. Att. xvi. 2, 5.

Footnote 242:

 Cic. Fam. x. 32.

Footnote 243:

 See Cic. de Off. ii. 16; Plin. H. N. 36, 3, &c.

Footnote 244:

 Arist. Poet.

Footnote 245:

 Epist. II. i. 182.

Footnote 246:

 Asinius Pollio is said by Seneca (Controv. iv. Præf.) to have introduced the practice of poets reading their works to a circle of friends.

Footnote 247:

 Ecl. iii. 86.

Footnote 248:

 Math. Hist. of Class. Lit.; Bernhardy, Grund. 366.

Footnote 249:

 Hier. in Eus. Chron. Ol. 156, 3.

Footnote 250:

 Cic. Brut. 64.

Footnote 251:

 Plin. N. H. xxxv. 1, 4.

Footnote 252:

 N. A. i. 24; Meyer, Anth. xxiv.

Footnote 253:

 Cic. de Am. 7.

Footnote 254:

 Pers. Sat. i. 77.

Footnote 255:

 Hor. Ep. II. i. 55.

Footnote 256:

 Ad Heren. iv. 4 and 11, 23.

Footnote 257:

 Varro ap. Gel. vii. 14.

Footnote 258:

 Cic. de Div. i. 14; Orat. iii. 39.

Footnote 259:

 See Smith’s Dict.

Footnote 260:

 De Pac. Dul. A. Steigl. Leips. 1826.

Footnote 261:

 Pierron, p. 162.

Footnote 262:

 Cic. de Am. vii.

Footnote 263:

 Diom. iii.

Footnote 264:

 Cic. Brut. 64.

Footnote 265:

 Lib. iii. 7, 11.

Footnote 266:

 Cic. Brut. 64; Gell. xiii. 2; Brut. 28.

Footnote 267:

 Cic. de Leg. ii. 21; Pro Arch. ii.

Footnote 268:

 Bernhardy, 367; Hor. Ep. II. i. 56; Quint, x. i. 97.

Footnote 269:

 De Divin. i. 22; Bothe, Poet. Scen. fr. p. 191.

Footnote 270:

 Bothe, p. 246.

Footnote 271:

 Tusc. Disp. ii. 10; Bothe, p. 239.

Footnote 272:

 Bothe, p. 238.

Footnote 273:

 Ibid. p. 231.

Footnote 274:

 Hor. Ep. II. i. 55.

Footnote 275:

 See Nieb. Lect. 88.

Footnote 276:

 B. C. 279.

Footnote 277:

 The etymology of σίλλοι is unknown. Casaubon derived the word from σιλλαίνειν, to scoff. The probability, however, is that the substantive is the root of the verb. The invention of the _Silli_ has been ascribed by some to Xenophanes, the philosopher of Colophon. He was the author of a didactic poem, and his invectives were directed against the absurd and erroneous doctrines of his predecessors. Timon, a skeptical philosopher, who lived in the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, was undoubtedly the author of Silli. Some of these are dialogues, in which one of the persons is Xenophanes, whence perhaps he was erroneously considered the inventor of this kind of poetry. All the Silli of Timon are epic parodies, and their subject a ludicrous and skeptical attack on philosophy of every kind. Fragments of Silli are preserved by Diogenes, Lucilius, and Chrysostom.—Ad. Alex. Orat. See also Brunck’s Analecta, and Suidas _s. vv._ σιλλαίνειν, Τίμων.

Footnote 278:

 Hor. Sat. i. 4, 10.

Footnote 279:

 Cic. Tusc. i. 2.

Footnote 280:

 Aurelius Victor states (De Vit. Illust. xlvii.) that Cato took lessons in Greek from Ennius.

Footnote 281:

 Juv. Sat. i. 20.

Footnote 282:

 Hieron. Chron. Euseb.

Footnote 283:

 In defence of the chronology of Lucilius’ life, see Smith’s Dictionary of Biography, _s. v._ Lucilius.

Footnote 284:

 Vell. Paterc. ii. 9.

Footnote 285:

 See Sat. I. iv.; I. x.; I. i. 29, &c.

Footnote 286:

 De Orat. ii. 6; De Fin. i. 3.

Footnote 287:

 Inst. Or. x. i.

Footnote 288:

 Inst. Div. vi. 5.

Footnote 289:

 Hor. Sat. I. x. 46.

Footnote 290:

 Nieb. Lect. lxxxviii.

Footnote 291:

 Lib. ii. 24; xix. 9.

Footnote 292:

 See Nieb. Lect. lxxix. and Schol. in Cic. Orell. ii. p. 283.

Footnote 293:

 Suet. de Clar. Rhet. iii.

Footnote 294:

 The fragments of the ancient Roman historians have been collected by Augustus Krause, and published at Berlin in 1833.

Footnote 295:

 De Orat. ii. 12.

Footnote 296:

 Pro Arch. x.

Footnote 297:

 Dion. xvi. 6; Nieb. H. R. iii. 356.

Footnote 298:

 Lib. i. 44, 45; ii. 40; viii. 30, &c.

Footnote 299:

 Lib. xxii. 7.

Footnote 300:

 Pol. i. 14.

Footnote 301:

 Lect. R. H. iii. xxvi.

Footnote 302:

 Lib. ii. 12.

Footnote 303:

 Liv. xxii. 7.

Footnote 304:

 Lib. xxiii. ii.; B. C. 216; A. U. C. 538.

Footnote 305:

 A. U. C. 544; B. C. 210.

Footnote 306:

 Liv. xxvi. 23.

Footnote 307:

 Ibid. 28.

Footnote 308:

 Ibid. xxvii. 29.

Footnote 309:

 Ibid. xxi. 31.

Footnote 310:

 Dionys. i. 6.

Footnote 311:

 Liv. vii. 3.

Footnote 312:

 See, on this subject, Lachmann de Font. Hist. Ti. Liv.

Footnote 313:

 See Dr. Smith’s Dict. of Antiq. _s. v._

Footnote 314:

 N. A. vii. 14.

Footnote 315:

 Lib. xxv. 39; xxxv. 14.

Footnote 316:

 A. U. C. 586; B. C. 168.

Footnote 317:

 A. U. C. 599; B. C. 155.

Footnote 318:

 Cic. de Orat. ii. 37; Quint. xii. 1.

Footnote 319:

 Suet. de Gram. Ill. 2.

Footnote 320:

 De Senec. 4.

Footnote 321:

 Liv. xxxiv.

Footnote 322:

 B. C. 171.

Footnote 323:

 Plin. H. N. vii. 31.

Footnote 324:

 A. U. C. 605.

Footnote 325:

 Livy (xxxix. 40) and Niebuhr (Lect. lxix.) state that Cato died at the age of ninety; Cicero (Brut. 15, 20, 23) and Pliny, at the age of eighty-five.

Footnote 326:

 Valerius Maximus relates the following anecdote of the respect in which this virtuous Roman was held by his countrymen:—At the Floralia, the people were accustomed to call for the exhibition of dances, accompanied with acts of great indecency. Cato on one of these occasions happened to be present, and the spectators were ashamed to make their usual demand until he had left the theatre. Martial also alludes to this anecdote in one of his epigrams.

Footnote 327:

 Hor. Od. ii. i.

Footnote 328:

 Plut. Life of Cato.

Footnote 329:

 Cicero tells us (De Orat. ii. 64) that, when censor, he degraded L. Nasica for an unseasonable jest.

Footnote 330:

 Lib. xxxix. 40.

Footnote 331:

 About A. U. C. 600.

Footnote 332:

 Cato, iii.

Footnote 333:

 See frag. of book iv. Krause.

Footnote 334:

 C. Nepos in Vita.

Footnote 335:

 Lib. v. Krause, p. 114.

Footnote 336:

 Lib. i. 12.

Footnote 337:

 The hocus-pocus of Cato resembles Latin about as nearly as did the gibberish of the Spanish witches in the days of witch-finding. “In nomine Patricâ Aragueaco Petrica agora agora valentia jouando goure gaito goustra.”

Footnote 338:

 Meyer, Frag. Rom. Orat.

Footnote 339:

 See, _ex. gr._ Liv. xxxix. 40.

Footnote 340:

 Brutus.

Footnote 341:

 Lect. R. H. lxix.

Footnote 342:

 Brut.

Footnote 343:

 Gell. xi. 8.

Footnote 344:

 Serv. Æn. ix. 70.

Footnote 345:

 Macrob. ii. 16.

Footnote 346:

 A. U. C. 608.

Footnote 347:

 A. U. C. 608.

Footnote 348:

 Cic. de Leg. ii. 2; Brut. 26.

Footnote 349:

 Cic. Brut. 25.

Footnote 350:

 Ibid. 26.

Footnote 351:

 Gell. ii. 13.

Footnote 352:

 See Nieb. Lect. V. on Rom. Lit.

Footnote 353:

 Brut. 21.

Footnote 354:

 B. C. 133.

Footnote 355:

 Liv. i. 55.

Footnote 356:

 Lib. xi. 14.

Footnote 357:

 Athenæus, iv. 168.

Footnote 358:

 Brut. 35.

Footnote 359:

 See Cic. de Leg. i. 2; Brut. 67.

Footnote 360:

 Lect. iii. xliv.

Footnote 361:

 Numa, c. i. See Niebuhr, Lect. III. xli.

Footnote 362:

 A. U. C. 678.

Footnote 363:

 A. U. C. 691.

Footnote 364:

 Lib. xxx. 19.

Footnote 365:

 There is one instance to the contrary, (Liv. xxxviii. 23,) in which Quadrigarius makes the number of the slain 40,000, Antias only 10,000.

Footnote 366:

 Plut. Romulus, 14.

Footnote 367:

 Liv. xxvi. 49.

Footnote 368:

 Lib. xxxii. 6.

Footnote 369:

 Lib. xxxiii. 10.

Footnote 370:

 Lib. xxxiii. 30.

Footnote 371:

 De Clar. Rhet. 3.

Footnote 372:

 Brut. 64 and 88.

Footnote 373:

 Jug. 95.

Footnote 374:

 Gell. vi. 3, 4.

Footnote 375:

 Appius Claudius Cæcus was also author of a moral poem on Pythagorean principles, which was extant in the time of Cicero, (Brutus, 16.)

Footnote 376:

 B. C. 280.

Footnote 377:

 About B. C. 221.

Footnote 378:

 Lib. xxxv. 8; xl. 46.

Footnote 379:

 H. N. vii. 43, 44.

Footnote 380:

 Brut. 14, 19, de Sen.

Footnote 381:

 Cic. Cat. 4, 12; de Sen. 4; Brut. 14, 18.

Footnote 382:

 Noct. Attic. iv. 18.

Footnote 383:

 Brut. 21.

Footnote 384:

 Meyer, Orat. Rom. Fragm.

Footnote 385:

 B. C. 149; A. U. C. 605.

Footnote 386:

 A. U. C. 580.

Footnote 387:

 A. U. C. 622.

Footnote 388:

 De Orat. 153.

Footnote 389:

 Sallust. Cat. 25.

Footnote 390:

 Orat. iii. 56.

Footnote 391:

 Brut. 33.

Footnote 392:

 Ibid. 36.

Footnote 393:

 Pro Rosc. 25; pro Arch. 60; in. Verr. iv. 59.

Footnote 394:

 Orat. II. i.

Footnote 395:

 Pro Cluent. 50.

Footnote 396:

 De Orat. ii. 48.

Footnote 397:

 B. C. 122.

Footnote 398:

 De Orat. i. 52; Brut. 43.

Footnote 399:

 B. C. 95.

Footnote 400:

 B. C. 92.

Footnote 401:

 B. C. 161; A. U. C. 593.

Footnote 402:

 A. Gell. xv. ii.

Footnote 403:

 De Cl. Or. 143, 145.

Footnote 404:

 Pro Cluent. 51.

Footnote 405:

 De Orat. ii. 54.

Footnote 406:

 Cic. de Or. ii. 65; Plin. H. N. xxxv. 4.

Footnote 407:

 Macrobius, Sat.

Footnote 408:

 See Brutus, _passim_.

Footnote 409:

 Brutus, 158.

Footnote 410:

 De Fam. iv. 5.

Footnote 411:

 Cic. Philip. ix. 5.

Footnote 412:

 Brut. xcii.

Footnote 413:

 Ad Att. vi. 6.

Footnote 414:

 Ad Fam. viii. 2.

Footnote 415:

 Smith’s Dict. of Antiq. _s. v._

Footnote 416:

 Brut. 95.

Footnote 417:

 Quint. xii.; ch. x.; Brut. Orat. ad Br. in many places.

Footnote 418:

 A. Gell. i. 5.

Footnote 419:

 A. Gell. i. 5.

Footnote 420:

 Cic. Muræn. 8, 19; Off. ii. 19, 65.

Footnote 421:

 Hor. Od. II. i. 13.

Footnote 422:

 Cic. pro Muræn.

Footnote 423:

 Inst. Or. xii. 7.

Footnote 424:

 De Orat. 44.

Footnote 425:

 De Leg. ii. 23.

Footnote 426:

 A. U. C. 552.

Footnote 427:

 Lib. xxx. 1.

Footnote 428:

 De Or. i. 45.

Footnote 429:

 Dig. I. ii. 39.

Footnote 430:

 De Or. ii. 55.

Footnote 431:

 Lib. xvi. 5; Dig. L. 16, 157.

Footnote 432:

 B. C. 24, 25.

Footnote 433:

 De Lat. Lin. iv. 2; iv. 10; v. 7.

Footnote 434:

 H. N. vii. 1.

Footnote 435:

 De Orat. iii. 21.

Footnote 436:

 Cornelius Nepos ait litteratos quidem vulgo appellari eos qui aliquid diligenter et acute scienterque possint aut dicere aut scribere.

Footnote 437:

 Sueton. de Illust. Gram.

Footnote 438:

 Lect. R. H. cvi.

Footnote 439:

 Plin. H. N. v. 72.

Footnote 440:

 Cic. pro Sen.

Footnote 441:

 Schlegel Lect. viii.; Müller’s Dor. iv. 7, 5.

Footnote 442:

 Diog. Laert. iii. 18.

Footnote 443:

 Xen. Hell. i. 23.

Footnote 444:

 Müller’s Dorians, Trans. ii. 374.

Footnote 445:

 Or. Tr. ii. 515.

Footnote 446:

 Cic. pro Rab. 12; de Orat. ii. 59. See also fragm. of Syrus’ Mimes.

Footnote 447:

 Bothe, Po. Sc. Lat. fragm. vol. v.

Footnote 448:

 Sat. i. x. 6. See also Sen. Controv., and Nieb. H. R. ii. p. 169.

Footnote 449:

 Hieron. Eus. Chron.

Footnote 450:

 Pl. Ep. vi. 21.

Footnote 451:

 A. Gell. xv. 25.

Footnote 452:

 Suet. Cæs. 52.

Footnote 453:

 Cic. ad Fam. x. 28.

Footnote 454:

 Pl. H. N. xii. 2, 6.

Footnote 455:

 Tac. An. xii. 60.

Footnote 456:

 Ad Fam. vii. 15.

Footnote 457:

 Ibid. xi. 28.

Footnote 458:

 Ad Fam. xii. 18.

Footnote 459:

 Sen. Controv. vii. 3; Ep. 8, 94, 108.

Footnote 460:

 Pl. H. N. viii. 51.

Footnote 461:

 _S. v._ Ὀρχησίς.

Footnote 462:

 Hist. Rom. i.

Footnote 463:

 Pl. Ep. vii. 24.

Footnote 464:

 Juv. vi. 65.

Footnote 465:

 Tac. Ann. i. 77.

Footnote 466:

 Suet. Ner. 16, 26.

Footnote 467:

 Juv. i. 35; vi. 44.

Footnote 468:

 Lib. ix. 29; xi. 13.

Footnote 469:

 Suet. Ner. 54.

Footnote 470:

 Lib. i. 925; iv. 1.

Footnote 471:

 Lib. i. 831; iii. 261.

Footnote 472:

 Clint. F. H.

Footnote 473:

 Hier. Chron.

Footnote 474:

 The criticism of Cicero is unjust:—“Lucretii poemata ita sunt non multis luminibus ingenii multæ tamen artis.”—Ep. ad Qu. fratr. ii. 11.

Footnote 475:

 See A. Gell. Noct. Att. i. 21.

Footnote 476:

 Lib. ii. 352.

Footnote 477:

 Lib. v. 166.

Footnote 478:

 Lib. vi. 378.

Footnote 479:

 Lib. v. 1197.

Footnote 480:

 Lib. vi. 75.

Footnote 481:

 Lib. v. 83, 1163.

Footnote 482:

 Lib. v. 1202.

Footnote 483:

 Lib. i. 81.

Footnote 484:

 Lib. i. 71, 147.

Footnote 485:

 See Ritter, iv. p. 89.

Footnote 486:

 Lib. v. 525.

Footnote 487:

 Lib. iii. 265, 413.

Footnote 488:

 Lib. iii. 302.

Footnote 489:

 Lib. iv. 1072.

Footnote 490:

 Lib. v. 1012.

Footnote 491:

 De Fin. ii. 22.

Footnote 492:

 Lib. v. 1152.

Footnote 493:

 Lib. iii. 988.

Footnote 494:

 Lib. ii. 7.

Footnote 495:

 Diog. La. x. 3.

Footnote 496:

 Sen. de Benef. iv. 19.

Footnote 497:

 Diog. La. x.

Footnote 498:

 Georg. ii. 490.

Footnote 499:

 Georg. iii. 478.

Footnote 500:

 Plin. xxxvii. 6.

Footnote 501:

 Suet. v. Jul. 73.

Footnote 502:

 See Carm. cxvi.

Footnote 503:

 Anthol. 208.

Footnote 504:

 Apuleius.

Footnote 505:

 Carm. li.

Footnote 506:

 Od. IV. iii. 23.

Footnote 507:

 Od. III. xx. 13.

Footnote 508:

 Lect. cvi.

Footnote 509:

 Lib. v. 132, 166.

Footnote 510:

 Cic. Brut. 82; ad Fam. xv. 21; Dial. de Or. 18; Quint. xi. 115.

Footnote 511:

 Cat. liv.

Footnote 512:

 Sat. I. x. 16.

Footnote 513:

 Cat. Carm. X. xcv.

Footnote 514:

 Ecl. 9.

Footnote 515:

 Suet. de Ill. Gram. 2–9.

Footnote 516:

 Wernsdorf, Po. Lat. Mi.

Footnote 517:

 H. N. xxv. 2.

Footnote 518:

 Od. ii. 9; Sat. I. x.

Footnote 519:

 Wernsdorf.

Footnote 520:

 Sat. II. v. 41.

Footnote 521:

 Hieron. in Euseb. Chron.

Footnote 522:

 See Meyer’s Anthol. Lat.

Footnote 523:

 Ibid. 77, 78.

Footnote 524:

 Lib. x. i. 87.

Footnote 525:

 Hor. Sat. I. x. 46.

Footnote 526:

 Anthol. 77, 78.

Footnote 527:

 See, on this subject, Niebuhr’s Lectures on Roman History, cvi.

Footnote 528:

 Mart. Ep. xii. 68.

Footnote 529:

 See Quint. de Inst. Or.

Footnote 530:

 Servius.

Footnote 531:

 Scalig. in Euseb. Chron.

Footnote 532:

 B. C. 55.

Footnote 533:

 See v. 7.

Footnote 534:

 Ecl. ix. 18.

Footnote 535:

 B. C. 40.

Footnote 536:

 B. C. 38.

Footnote 537:

 Alexander, an Italian abbot, states, on the evidence of two spurious verses, that he was governor of Naples and Calabria.

Footnote 538:

 Ep. viii. 56.

Footnote 539:

 Carm. xv. 12.

Footnote 540:

 Hor. Sat. I. v. 49.

Footnote 541:

 Carm. i. 3.

Footnote 542:

 There has been much discussion respecting the precise place of his burial. (See Cramer’s Anc. It. ii. 174.) Addison, in opposition to the popular belief, thought it almost certain that it stood on that side of the town which looks towards Vesuvius. (Remarks on Italy, p. 164; sec. ed.)

Footnote 543:

 Meyer, Anthol. 95.

Footnote 544:

 Dial. de Caus. Corrup. El. 13.

Footnote 545:

 Hor. Sat. I. v. 41.

Footnote 546:

 Macrob. Saturn. I. _sub fine_.

Footnote 547:

 Plin. N. H. vii. 30.

Footnote 548:

 See Meyer’s Anthol. 85–111.

Footnote 549:

 A litle noursling of the humid ayre, A gnat unto the sleepie shepheard went; And, marking where his ey-lids twinckling rare Shewd the two pearles, which sight unto him lent, Through their thin coverings appearing fayre, His litle needle there infixing deep, Warnd him awake, from death himselfe to keep. _Spenser._

Footnote 550:

 Faery Queene, book iii. c. ii. 3. See Dunlop, iii.

Footnote 551:

 Spenser, adopting the incorrect orthography and etymology of Petrarch, writes the word Æglogue, and derives it from αἴγων λόγοι—tales of goats or goatherds.

Footnote 552:

 Sat. I. x. 44.

Footnote 553:

 Id. x. and xxi.

Footnote 554:

 In Euseb. Chron.

Footnote 555:

 B. C. 39.

Footnote 556:

 Præl. de Sacr. Po. He. xxi. p. 289.

Footnote 557:

 Orat. ad Sanctos, 19, 20; apud Euseb.

Footnote 558:

 In 1 Cor. ii.

Footnote 559:

 Adv. Jor. lib. i.

Footnote 560:

 Contra Faust, i. 13, 2.

Footnote 561:

 Orat. Paræn.

Footnote 562:

 See notes to Pope’s Messiah.

Footnote 563:

 Decl. and Fall. c. xx. vol. iii. p. 269.

Footnote 564:

 A. Gell. N. A. xvii. 10.

Footnote 565:

 Misc. Works, vol. i.

Footnote 566:

 G. iv. 560–564.

Footnote 567:

 G. ii. 171.

Footnote 568:

 See Dunlop, H. of R. L. iii. _s. v._ Virg.

Footnote 569:

 B. C. 27.

Footnote 570:

 Æn. ii. 567–589.

Footnote 571:

 Ibid. vi. 511.

Footnote 572:

 Æn. viii. 626.

Footnote 573:

 Ibid. i.

Footnote 574:

 Book v.

Footnote 575:

 Macrob. Saturn. v. 13.

Footnote 576:

 Saturn. vi. 1, 2, 3.

Footnote 577:

 Compare De Nat. Rer. ii. 24; vi. 136, 1143–1224; with Georg. ii. 461, 467, &c.; iii. 478, 505, 509, &c.

Footnote 578:

 Iliad, Ζ. 506; Æn. xi. 492.

Footnote 579:

 Spence’s Anecdotes.

Footnote 580:

 See, on this subject, Dunlop’s Hist. iii. 151.

Footnote 581:

 See Clarke’s Homer, Il. iii. 363, note.

Footnote 582:

 H. N. xxxv. 10.

Footnote 583:

 Lect. cvi. on R. H.

Footnote 584:

 Introd. Lect. iv.

Footnote 585:

 Serv. ad Æn. i. 98; ii. 797; iii. 10.

Footnote 586:

 Meyer, Anthol. 85, 93, &c.

Footnote 587:

 Od. IV. iii. 23.

Footnote 588:

 De Off. i. 42.

Footnote 589:

 Sat. I. vi. 86.

Footnote 590:

 Ibid. I. vi. 71.

Footnote 591:

 Od. III. xxx. 10.

Footnote 592:

 Ibid. IV. ix. 2.

Footnote 593:

 Od. III. iv. 9.

Footnote 594:

 Sat. I. vi. 71.

Footnote 595:

 See _ex. gr._ Ep. II. 41; Od. III. vi. 37; Sat. II. ii. 112.

Footnote 596:

 Ep. II. i. 70.

Footnote 597:

 Ibid. ii. 41.

Footnote 598:

 Sat. I. vi. 76.

Footnote 599:

 Sat. I. vi.

Footnote 600:

 Ibid. vi.

Footnote 601:

 Ibid. iv. 103.

Footnote 602:

 Ep. II. ii. 43.

Footnote 603:

 Sat. I. vi.

Footnote 604:

 Od. II. vii.

Footnote 605:

 Ep. II. ii. 49.

Footnote 606:

 Suet. in Vita.

Footnote 607:

 Ep. II. xiv. 17.

Footnote 608:

 Sat. I. vi. 114.

Footnote 609:

 Ep. II. ii. 51.

Footnote 610:

 Sat. I. vi.

Footnote 611:

 B. C. 41.

Footnote 612:

 Sat. I. v. 39.

Footnote 613:

 Ibid. vi. 55.

Footnote 614:

 Sat. I. v.

Footnote 615:

 According to Bentley, he composed them in the twenty-sixth, twenty-seventh, and twenty-eighth years of his age; according to Clinton, in the twenty-fifth, twenty-sixth, and twenty-seventh.

Footnote 616:

 _Ex. gr._ viii. xi. xii.

Footnote 617:

 See Od. I. 16, 22.

Footnote 618:

 Sat. II. vi. 1.

Footnote 619:

 Ibid. 8.

Footnote 620:

 Ibid. 10.

Footnote 621:

 Ibid. vi. 33.

Footnote 622:

 Ibid. 38.

Footnote 623:

 Ibid. 47.

Footnote 624:

 Ep. I. 18.

Footnote 625:

 Sat. II. vi. 62.

Footnote 626:

 Ibid. vi. 61.

Footnote 627:

 Ibid. iii. 11.

Footnote 628:

 Ep. I. iv. 15; xx. 24; Suet. V. H.

Footnote 629:

 Ep. I. xiv.; Od. I. xvii.

Footnote 630:

 Sat. II. vi. 65.

Footnote 631:

 Od. III. 4.

Footnote 632:

 Sat. II. i. 45.

Footnote 633:

 Clinton, Fasti: B. C. 35, 34, 33.

Footnote 634:

 Sat. II. vi.

Footnote 635:

 B. C. 31.

Footnote 636:

 _Ex. gr._ ix. xvi.

Footnote 637:

 See Ep. VII. ix.

Footnote 638:

 B. C. 29.

Footnote 639:

 Clinton, F. H.

Footnote 640:

 Lib. iii. 30.

Footnote 641:

 Lib. iii. 29.

Footnote 642:

 Ep. I. i. 1–10.

Footnote 643:

 See Vit. Hor. Suet.

Footnote 644:

 Ep. I. xx.

Footnote 645:

 Suet. Ep. Aug. in Vita.

Footnote 646:

 Ep. I. vii. 26; 3.

Footnote 647:

 Ep. I. xx.

Footnote 648:

 Od. II. iv. 22.

Footnote 649:

 This feud continued until the time of Persius. (See Sat I. 141, and Gifford’s note.)

Footnote 650:

 See De Chaupy, Eustace, Milman, &c.

Footnote 651:

 Od. III. 13.

Footnote 652:

 Découverte de la Maison d’Horace, tom. iii. p. 364.

Footnote 653:

 Illust. to Childe Harold, p. 42.

Footnote 654:

 Hist. of Rom. Lit. iii. 213.

Footnote 655:

 Od. I. vii. 29.

Footnote 656:

 See Milman’s Hor. p. 97.

Footnote 657:

 Ep. I. xvi. 5. See also Eustace’s Class. Tour.

Footnote 658:

 Ep. I. xviii. 105.

Footnote 659:

 Ep. I. xiv. 2.

Footnote 660:

 Ep. I. xiv. 23.

Footnote 661:

 See also Pope’s imitation of this passage, Essay on Satire, part iii.

Footnote 662:

 See Persius, Sat. I. 114.

Footnote 663:

 Sat. I. 8.

Footnote 664:

 Ibid. 9.

Footnote 665:

 Ibid. v.

Footnote 666:

 Sat. II. vi.

Footnote 667:

 Sat. I. vi.

Footnote 668:

 Ibid. vii.

Footnote 669:

 Sat. II. iv.

Footnote 670:

 Sat. I. 1.

Footnote 671:

 Ibid. 2.

Footnote 672:

 Ibid. 3.

Footnote 673:

 See Prof. Anthon’s Horace, Donaldson’s Pindar, &c.

Footnote 674:

 Meyer, Anthol. Rom. 114, 115.

Footnote 675:

 Hom. Od. I. i.

Footnote 676:

 Od. IV. ii.

Footnote 677:

 Lib. lii. 14, &c.

Footnote 678:

 B. C. 40

Footnote 679:

 Tac. Ann. vi. ii.

Footnote 680:

 B. C. 31.

Footnote 681:

 Annal. iii. 30.

Footnote 682:

 Hor. Sat. i. 8, 7.

Footnote 683:

 Mart. viii. 56.

Footnote 684:

 Plin. vii. 51; Hor. C. ii. 17.

Footnote 685:

 Sen. de Prov. iii. 9.

Footnote 686:

 Suet. 26.

Footnote 687:

 Lib. ix. 4, 28.

Footnote 688:

 The three passages quoted by Quintilian show a wanton awkwardness in arrangement almost inconceivable:—

 Sole et Aurora rubent plurima Inter sacra movit aqua fraxinos: Ne exequias quidem unus inter miserrimos Viderem meas.

 The last of these he considers especially offensive, because he seems to be trifling with a melancholy subject.

Footnote 689:

 Sen. Ep. 114.

Footnote 690:

 Tac. Ann. i. 54.

Footnote 691:

 Epp. iv. 14; vii. 4.

Footnote 692:

 Sat. I. x.; Od. ii. 9.

Footnote 693:

 Weichert, Poet. Lat. Rell.

Footnote 694:

 Lib. iii. i. 18.

Footnote 695:

 Ep. xli. i.

Footnote 696:

 H. N. xxv. 2.

Footnote 697:

 Tib. Op. iv. i. 180.

Footnote 698:

 Sat. I. x. 44.

Footnote 699:

 Ep. i. 16. See Schol.

Footnote 700:

 Meyer’s Anthol.

Footnote 701:

 Ecl. vi. 64.

Footnote 702:

 Cic. ad Fam. x. 32.

Footnote 703:

 Dion Cass. liii. 23.

Footnote 704:

 Trist. iv. 10, 5.

Footnote 705:

 Lib. x. i. 93; i. 5, 8.

Footnote 706:

 See Hor. Od. i. 33; Ep. i. 4.

Footnote 707:

 El. i.

Footnote 708:

 El. i. and iv.

Footnote 709:

 El. i.

Footnote 710:

 Nieb. Lect. cvii.

Footnote 711:

 Amorum iii. 9.

Footnote 712:

 Od. iv. 1, 3, 4, 13; Ep. i. 7, 27, 14, 33.

Footnote 713:

 Sat. I. ii.

Footnote 714:

 Sat. II. viii.

Footnote 715:

 Apol. p. 279.

Footnote 716:

 Lect. on R. H. 107.

Footnote 717:

 Meyer’s Anthol. Vet. Lat. Ep. No. 122.

Footnote 718:

 B. C. 45; A. U. C. 709.

Footnote 719:

 Schol. in Propert.

Footnote 720:

 Clinton.

Footnote 721:

 Niebuhr.

Footnote 722:

 Trist. iv. 10, 45.

Footnote 723:

 Prop. IV. i. 128, and ii. 25.

Footnote 724:

 Ibid. IV. i.

Footnote 725:

 Ibid. II. xiv. 15–18.

Footnote 726:

 Ibid. I. 1, 2; x. ii. 16.

Footnote 727:

 Ibid. I. ii. 27.

Footnote 728:

 Ibid. II. iii. 17.

Footnote 729:

 Prop. IV. i. 63.

Footnote 730:

 Inst. Orat. x. 1.

Footnote 731:

 Trist. IV. x. 33.

Footnote 732:

 Trist. iv. 10.

Footnote 733:

 See Cic. Brut. 446.

Footnote 734:

 Metam. xiii.

Footnote 735:

 Controv. ii. 10.

Footnote 736:

 See distinction between these in ch. viii.

Footnote 737:

 Amor. II. xi. 10.

Footnote 738:

 Ep. ex Ponto, ii. 10.

Footnote 739:

 Trist. IV. x. 100.

Footnote 740:

 Ibid. IV. x. 90, and III. i. 52.

Footnote 741:

 Ibid. I. ii. 107.

Footnote 742:

 Ibid. iv. 10, 101; Ep. ex Pont. p. ii. vii.

Footnote 743:

 See Class. Museum, iv. 13.

Footnote 744:

 Hist. Abreg. de la Lit. Rom.

Footnote 745:

 Trist. III. i. 65.

Footnote 746:

 Ex Ponto, IV. ix. 82.

Footnote 747:

 Trist. I. iii.

Footnote 748:

 Ibid. V. ii.

Footnote 749:

 Ex Pont. IV. ix. 97.

Footnote 750:

 See II. xviii. 19.

Footnote 751:

 Rem. Am. 43.

Footnote 752:

 Trist. i. vi. 30.

Footnote 753:

 Metam. ii. i.

Footnote 754:

 Ibid. i. 89.

Footnote 755:

 Ibid. iv. 55.

Footnote 756:

 Ibid. viii. 628.

Footnote 757:

 Ibid. iii. 407.

Footnote 758:

 Ibid. xi. 592.

Footnote 759:

 Ibid. viii. 152.

Footnote 760:

 Ibid. vii. 661.

Footnote 761:

 Ibid. vii. 11.

Footnote 762:

 Trist. ii. v. 549.

Footnote 763:

 Hor. Od. I. 33.

Footnote 764:

 Lib. iii. 7.

Footnote 765:

 Ar. Am. iii. 205.

Footnote 766:

 Plin. H. N. xxxii. 54.

Footnote 767:

 In. Or. x. 98.

Footnote 768:

 Ep. ex Pont. iv. 16, 33.

Footnote 769:

 See Bernhardy, Gr. 440.

Footnote 770:

 Bern. 409.

Footnote 771:

 Quint. x. 1.

Footnote 772:

 Ibid. iv. 16, 6.

Footnote 773:

 Ep. ii. 77.

Footnote 774:

 Ann. ii. 23; Suasor. I.

Footnote 775:

 Ex Pont. iv. 16, 13.

Footnote 776:

 Amor. ii. 18, 27.

Footnote 777:

 Bernhardy, 451.

Footnote 778:

 Ep. ex Pont. iv. 16, 13.

Footnote 779:

 Smith’s Dict. Glaser im Rhein. Mus. N. F. i. 437.

Footnote 780:

 Lib. i. 798–897; iv. 763.

Footnote 781:

 Hor. Od. I. xxxi.

Footnote 782:

 Cicero, notwithstanding his opposite politics, admired Marius, to whom he was distantly related, and thought it an honour to have been born near Arpinum. He quotes a saying of Pompey’s (Cic. de Leg. ii. 3,) that Arpinum had produced two citizens who had preserved Italy. Valerius Maximus thinks that Arpinum, in this respect, enjoyed a singular privilege:—Conspicuæ felicitatis Arpinum unicum, sive litterarum gloriosissimum contemptorem, sive abundantissimum fontem intueri velis.

Footnote 783:

 De Orat. ii. 1.

Footnote 784:

 Brut. 56.

Footnote 785:

 Meyer, Anthol. Rom. 66.

Footnote 786:

 B. C. 89.

Footnote 787:

 Pro Quint. B. C. 81.

Footnote 788:

 B. C. 79.

Footnote 789:

 De Fin. 5, 1.

Footnote 790:

 B. C. 77.

Footnote 791:

 B. C. 76; æt. 31.

Footnote 792:

 T. Q. v. 3.

Footnote 793:

 B. C. 74.

Footnote 794:

 B. C. 69.

Footnote 795:

 In Pis. iii.; ad Fam. v. 2.

Footnote 796:

 B. C. 61.

Footnote 797:

 B. C. 58.

Footnote 798:

 Ad Att. x. 4.

Footnote 799:

 Ad Fam. x. iv. 4; ad Att. iii. 13.

Footnote 800:

 Pro Planco, 26.

Footnote 801:

 In Pis. xxii.; Post red. xv.

Footnote 802:

 B. C. 53.

Footnote 803:

 Att. ii. 5.

Footnote 804:

 Niebuhr.

Footnote 805:

 See Letters to Att. _passim_.

Footnote 806:

 B. C. 46.

Footnote 807:

 B. C. 43.

Footnote 808:

 He wrote during that year the _De Officiis_, _De Divinatione_, _De Fato_, _Topica_, and the lost treatise _De Gloria_, besides a vast number of Letters.

Footnote 809:

 Pro Muræna, 3.

Footnote 810:

 _De Leg._, introduction.

Footnote 811:

 Poverty and barrenness were most probably instrumental in producing the diffuseness and exuberance of the Asiatic and Rhodian schools. Their literature and philosophy were deficient in matter, and they sought to hide this defect by the external ornaments of language. For a long time Athens, strong in her pure classic taste, successfully resisted this influence; and in the time of Cicero the tastes of the two schools were in direct opposition. But the flowers of rhetoric are captivating: another generation saw the supremacy of rhetoric at Rome; and the days of Petronius Arbiter (Satyr. book ii.) witnessed the migration of Asiatic taste to Athens.

Footnote 812:

 Cicero tells us (de Orat. i. 57, 58) that Galba, Antony, and Sulpicius were ignorant of jurisprudence; that the chief requisites were elegance, wit, pathos, &c. For legal knowledge they trusted to jurisconsults. In the oration _pro Muræna_, even he himself sneers at a technical knowledge of law.

Footnote 813:

 Delivered B. C. 81.

Footnote 814:

 B. C. 80.

Footnote 815:

 De Orat.

Footnote 816:

 B. C. 70.

Footnote 817:

 B. C. 69.

Footnote 818:

 B. C. 66.

Footnote 819:

 Belles Lettres, Lect. xxviii.

Footnote 820:

 B. C. 61.

Footnote 821:

 Schröter. Leips. 1818.

Footnote 822:

 B. C. 56.

Footnote 823:

 B. C. 55.

Footnote 824:

 Born about B. C. 2.

Footnote 825:

 B. C. 56.

Footnote 826:

 Phil. ii.

Footnote 827:

 Phil. i.; B. C. 44.

Footnote 828:

 De Orat. i. 2.

Footnote 829:

 For the arguments on this point see Smith’s Dict. i. 726.