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A    HISTORY 


OF 


ROMAN   LITERATURE 


A  COMPANION  VOLUME. 


A  History  of  Greek  Literature  from  the  Earl- 
iest Period  to  the  Death   of  Demosthenes. 
By  Frank  Byron  Jevons,  M.A. 
One  volume  >  crown  octavo,  .         .        •         .         $2.50 


A -HISTORY 


OP 


ROMAN    LITERATURE 

FTIOM 

THE   EAKLIEST    PERIOD 

TO 

THE  DEATH  OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS 


BY 


CHARLES   THOMAS    CRUTTWELL,    MA. 

FELLOW  AND  TUTOR  OF  MERTON  COLLEGE,  OXFORD 


WITH   CHRONOLOGICAL   TABLES,   ETC.,   FOR   THE 
USE   OF  STUDENTS 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1897 


Z/3O0I 


/M  &003 

C7 


TO 


THE  VENERABLE  J.  A.  HESSEY,  D.C.L. 

ARCHDEACON   OP  MIDDLESEX 

THIS  WORK 

IS    AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED 

BY  HIS  FORMER   PUPIL 

THE  AUTHOR 


O  1   O  f\  f\  « 


PREFACE. 


The  present  work  is  designed  mainly  for  Students  at  otu 
Universities  and  Public  Schools,  and  for  such  as  are  preparing 
for  the  Indian  Civil  Service  or  other  advanced  Examinations. 
The  author  hopes,  however,  that  it  may  also  be  acceptable  to 
some  of  those  who,  without  being  professed  scholars,  are  yet 
interested  in  the  grand  literature  of  Rome,  or  who  wish  to  refresh 
their  memory  on  a  subject  that  perhaps  engrossed  their  early 
attention,  but  which  the  many  calls  of  advancing  life  have  made 
it  difficult  to  pursue. 

All  who  intend  to  undertake  a  thorough  study  of  the  subject 
will  turn  to  Teuffel's  admirable  History,  without  which  many 
chapters  in  th*  present  work  could  not  have  attained  complete- 
ness ;  but  the  rig;d  severity  of  that  exhaustive  treatise  makes  it 
fitter  for  a  book  oi  reference  for  scholars  than  for  general  read- 
ing even  among  strdents.  The  author,  therefore,  trusts  he  may 
be  pardoned  for  approaching  the  History  of  Roman  Literature 
from  a  more  purely  litcaiy  point  of  view,  though  at  the  same 
time  without  sacrificing  those  minute  and  accurate  details 
without  which  criticism  lt^es  half  its  value.  The  continual 
references  to  Teuffel's  work,  excellently  translated  by  Dr.  W. 
Wagner,  will  bear  sufficient  testimony  to  the  estimation  in  which 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

the  author  holds  it,  and  the  obligations  which  he  here  desires  to 
acknowledge. 

He  also  begs  to  express  his  thanks  to  Mr.  John  Wordsworth, 
of  B.  N.  C.,  Oxford,  for  many  kind  suggestions,  as  well  as  for 
courteous  permission  to  make  use  of  his  Fragments  and  Speci- 
mens of  Early  Latin  ;  to  Mr.  H.  A.  Eedpath,  of  Queen's  College, 
Oxford,  for  much  valuable  assistance  in  correction  of  the  proofs, 
preparation  of  the  index,  and  collation  of  references,  and  to  his 
brother,  Mr  W.  H.  G.  Cruttwell,  for  verifying  citations  from  tha 
post-Augustan  poets. 

To  enumerate  all  the  sources  to  which  the  present  Manual  is 
indebted  would  occupy  too  much  space  here,  but  a  few  of  the 
more  important  may  be  mentioned.  Among  German  writers, 
Bernhardy  and  Eitter — among  French,  Boissier,  Champagny, 
Diderot,  and  Nisard — have  been  chiefly  used.  Among  English 
scholars,  the  works  of  Dunlop,  Conington,  Ellis,  and  Munro, 
have  been  consulted,  and  also  the  History  of  Roman  Literature, 
reprinted  from  \h.Q^Encyclopasdia  Metropolitana,  a  work  to  which 
frequent  reference  is  made,  and  which,  in  fact,  suggested  the 
preparation  of  the  present  volume. 

It  is  hoped  that  the  Chronological  Tables,  as  well  as  the  list  of 
Editions  recommended  for  use,  and  the  Series  of  Test  Question! 
appended,  will  materially  assist  the  Student 

Oxford, 

November,  1877* 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Ml 
Koman  and  Greek  Literature  have  their  periods  of  itudy — Influence  of 
each — Exactness  of  Latin  language — Greek  origin  of  Latin  litera- 
ture— Its   three    great  periods:    (1)  The  Ante-Classical  Period; 
(2)  The  Golden  Age  ;  (3)  The  Decline,         ...  .1 


BOOK  I. 

FROM  LIVIUS  ANDRONICTTS  TO  SULLA  '240-80  B.O.\. 

Chapter  I. 

On  the  Earliest  Remains  of  the  Latin  Language. 

Early  inhabitants  of  Italy — Italic  dialects — Latin — Latin  alphabet- 
Later  innovations — Pronunciation — Spelling — Early  Monuments — 
Song  of  Fratres  Arvales — Salian  Hymn — Law  of  Romulus — Laws 
of  Twelve  Tables — Treaty  between  Pome  and  Carthage — Columna 
Rostrata — Epitaphs  of  the  Scipios — Senatus  Consultum  de  Bac- 
ehanalibus — Break-up  of  the  language,        .  .  .  f 

Ari'ENDix. — Examples  of  late  corrupted  dial  ^cts,  •  •  «     21 

Chaptei   II. 

On  the  Beginnings  of  Roman  Literature. 

The  Latin  character — Romans  a  practical  people — Their  religion  nn- 
romantic — Primitive  culture  of  Latium — Germs  of  drama  and  epos 
— No  early  historians — Early  speeches — Ballad  literature — No  early 
Roman  epos — Poets  despised — Fcscenninae — Saturae — Mime  or 
Planipes — Atellanae — Saturnian  metre — Early  interest  in  politics 
and  law  a?  giving  the  germs  of  oratory  and  jurisprudence,  .     21 


X  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  II L  paoi 

The  Introduction  of  Greek  Literature — Livius  and  Nacvius  (240-204  B.C.). 

Introduction  of  Greek  literature  to  Rome — Its  first  translators — Livius 
Andronicus — His  translation  of  the  Odyssey,  Tragedies,  &c. — Cn. 
Naevius — Inventor  of  Praetextae — Style — A  politician— Writer  of 
the  first  national  epic  poem — His  exile  and  death — Cicero's  opinion 
of  him — His  epitaph,         .  .  ,  .  .  .      M 

Chapter  IV. 

Roman  Comedy — Plautus  to  Turpilius  (254-103  B.C.). 

The  Roman  theatre  —  Plan  of  construction  —  Comedy — Related  to 
Athenian  Middle  and  New  Comedy — Plautus — His  plays — Their 
plots  and  style — Palliatae  and  Togatae — His  metres — Caecilius — 
Admires  Terence — Terence — His  intimate  friends — His  style — Use 
of  contamination — Lesser  comedians,  .  •  .  •     41 

Chapter  V. 

Roman  Tragedy :  Ennius — Accius  (233-94  B.C.). 

Contrast  between  Greek  and  Roman  tragedy — Oratorical  form  of  Latin 
tragedy — Ennius — The  father  of  Roman  poetry — His  humanitas — 
Relations  with  Scipio — A  follower  of  Pythagoras — His  tragedies 
— Pacuvius — Painter  and  tragedian — Cicero's  criticism  of  his Xiptra 
— His  epitaph — L.  Accius — The  last  tragic  writer — A  reformer  of 
spelling,      ........      56 

Appendix. — On  some  fragments  of  Sueius  or  Suevius,  .  •      67 

Chapter  VI. 

Epic  Poetry:  Ennius— Furius  (200-100  B.C.). 

Naevius  and  Ennius — Olympic  deities  and  heroes  of  Roman  story- 
Hexameter  of  Ennius — Its  treatment — Matius — Hostius — Furius,       68 

Chapter  VII. 

The  Early  History  of  Satire :  Ennius  to  Lucilins  (200-103  B.C.). 

Roman  satire  a  native  growth — Origin  of  word  "  Saturae" — It  is 
didactic — Not  necessarily  poetical  in  form — Ennius — Pacuvius — 
Lucilius — The  objects  of  his  attack  -His  popularity — His  humility 
—-His  style  and  language,    •  ..  •  •  •  •     75 

Chapter  VIII. 

The  Minor  Departments  of  Poetry — The  Atellanae  (Pomponius  and 
Novius,  circ.  90  B.C.)  and  the  Epigram  {Ennius — 
Catulus,  100  B.C.). 

Atellanae — Oscan  in  origin — Novius — Pomponius — Mnmmius — Epi- 
grammatists —  Catulus — Porcius  Licinius —  Pompilius — Valerius 
Aed  tuus,     •  9  •  .m        *•  *  •     cA 


CONTENTS.  x! 

Chapter  IX.  pagi 

Prose  Literature — History.     Fabius  Victor — Macer  (210-80  B.C.). 

Early  records — Annates,  Libri  Lintei,  Commentarii,  &c. — Narrow  view 
of  history — Fabius — -Cinchis  Alimentus — Cato — Creator  of  Latin 
prose — His  orations— His  Origines — His  treatise  on  agriculture — 
His  miscellaneous  writings — Catonis  dicta — Calpurnius  Piso— Sera- 
pronius  Asellio — Claudius  Quadrigarius  Valerius  Antias — Licinius 
Macer,  .  .  .  .  •  •  •  .87 

Appendix. — On  the  Annates  Pontificum,  •  •  ...  103 

Chapter  X. 
The  History  of  Oratory  before  Cicero, 

Comparison  of  English,  Greek,  and  Roman  oratory — Appius — Cor- 
nelius Cethegus — Cato — Laelius — The  younger  Scipio — Galba — 
Carbo  —  The  Gracchi — Self-praise  of  ancient  orators — Aemilius 
Scaurus — Rutilius — Catulus — A  violent  death  often  the  fate  of  a 
Roman  orator — M.  Antonius — Crassus — The  Roman  law-courts 
— Bribery  and  corruption  prevalent  in  them — Feelings  and  pre- 
judices appealed  to — Cotta  and  Sulpicius — Carbo  the  younger — 
Hortensius — his  friendship  for  Cicero — Asiatic  and  Attic  styles,        105 

Chapter  XT. 

Other  kinds  of  Prose  Literature  :  Grammar,  Rhetoric,  and  Philosophy 

(147-63  b.c). 
Legal   writers — P.  Macius  Scaevela — Q.  Mucius  Scaevola — Rhetoric — 
Plotius  Gallus — Cornificius — Grammatical  science — Aelius  Stilo — 
Philosophy — Amafinius  —  Rabirius — Relation    of  philosophy    to 
religion,       .  .  .  ,  .  .  .  ,fc129 


Jr- 


BOOK    II. 

THE    GOLDEN    AGE. 
From  the  Consulship  of  Cicero  to  the  Death  of  Aucuxstot 

(63  B.C.-14  A.D.). 


PART  I. 
THE  REPUBLICAN  PERIOD. 


Jhapter  I.  a/ 

Varro. 
The  two  Division* of  this  culminating  period — Classical  authors — Yarro 
— His  life,  his  character,  his  encyclopaedic  mind — His  Menippcan 
Satires — Logistorici — Antiquities  Divine  and  Human — Imagines — 
De  Lingua  Latina — Be  lie  Rustica,  •  .  .  •  1 41 


•  • 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I.  (Continued).  PAG! 

Appendix.— Note  I.  The  Menippean  Satires  of  Varro,             .  .156 

„    II.  The  Logistorici,                .            •            ,.  .  156 

„  III.  Fragments  of  Atacinus,                .            ,  .  157 

„  IV.  The  Jurists,   Critics,  and  Grammarians  of  less 


note,  •  •  •  •  •  .  157 


Chapter  II. 

Oratory  and  Philosophy — Cicero  (106-43  B.O.). 

Cicero— His  life — Pro  Roscio — In  Verrem — Pro  Cluentio — Pro  lege 
Manilia — ProJiabirio — Cicero  and  Clodius — His  exile — ProMilone 
— His  Philippics — Criticism  of  his  oratory — Analysis  of  Pro  Milone 
— His  Philosophy,  moral  and  political — On  the  existence  of  God 
and  the  human  soul — List  of  his  philosophical  works — His  rhetori- 
cal works — His  letters — His  contemporaries  and  successors,  .  159 

Appendix.— Poetry  of  M.  and  Q.  Cicero,  ....  186 

Chapter  III. 

Historical  and  Biographical  Composition — Caesar — Nepos — Sallust. 

Roman  view  of  history — Caesar's  Commentaries — Trustworthiness  of  his 
statements — His  style — A.  Hirtius — Other  writers  of  commentaries 
— Caesar's  oratorical  and  scientific  position — Cornelius  Nepos — 
C.  Sallustius  Crispus — Tubero,         .  .  •  •  .187 

'Appendix — On  the  Acta  Diurna  and  Acta  Senatus,      .  •  .  206 

Chapter  IV. 

The  History  of  Poetry  to  the  Close  of  the  Republic — Rise  of  Alexandrinism 

— Lucretius —  Catullus. 

The  Drama — J.  Caesar  Strabo — The  Mimae — D.  Laberius — Publilius 
Syrus — Matius — Pantomiini — Actors — The  poetry  of  Cicero  and 
Caesar — Alexandria  and  its  writers — Aratus — Callimachus — Apol- 
lonius  Rhodius — Euphorion — Lucretius — His  philosophical  opinions 
and  style — Bibaculus — Varro  Atacinus — Calvus — Catullus — Lesbia,  208 

Appendix. — Note  I.  On  the  Use  of  Alliteration  in  Latin  Poetry,       .  238 
II.  Some  additional  details  on  the  History  of  the 

Mimust    ......  239 

III.  Fragments  of  Valerius  Soranua,  .  .  240 

PART   II. 
THE  AUGUSTAN  EPOCH  (42  B. 0.-14  A.D.). 

Chapter  I. 

General  Characteristics. 

Common  features  of  the  Augustan  authors — Augustus's  relation  to  them 
— Maecenas — The  Apotheosis  of  the  emperor — Rhetoricians  not 
orators  —  Historians — Jurists —  Poets — Messala  — Vai  ius  — Anser 
— Macer,       •  •  •  •  ...  241 


CONTENTS.  Xlfl 

Chapter  II. 
Virgil  (70-19  b.  o.  ).  PAGl 

Fwgil — His  earliest  verses — His  life  and  character — The  minor  poems 
— The  Eclogiies — The  Gcorgics — Virgil's  love  of  Nature — His 
aptitude  for  epic  poetry — The  scope  of  the  Aeneid — The  Aeneid 
a  religious  poem — Its  relation  to  preceding  poetry,  .  .  252 

Appem/ix. — Note   I.  Imitations  of  Virgil  in  Propertius,    Ovid,   and 

Manilius,  .....  ?75 

II.  On  the  shortening  of  f  nal  o  in  Latin  poetry,       .  277 

III.  On  parallelism  in  Virgil's  poetry,  .  .277 

IV.  On  the  Legends  connected  with  Virgil,  .  271 

Chapter  III. 
Horace  (65-8  B.C.). 

Horace — His  life — The  dates  of  his  works — Two  aspects :  a  lyric  poet 
and  a  man  of  the  world — His  Odes  and  Epodes — His  patriotic 
odes — Excellences  of  the  odes — The  Satires  and  Epistles — Horace 
as  a  moralist — The  Ars  Poetica — Horace's  literary  criticism — 
Lesser  poets  •  .  .  •  •  •  280 


Chapter  IV. 
The  Elegiac  Poets — Gratius— Manilius 

Roman  elegy — Cornelius  Gallus — Domitius  Marsus — Tibullus — Pro- 
pertius— Ovid — His  life — The  Art  of  Love — His  exile — Doubtful 
and  spurious  poems — Lesser  erotic  and  epic  poets — Gratius — 
Manilius      •  *  •  .  •  •  •  297 


Chapter  V. 

Prose  Writers  of  the  Augustan  Age. 

Oratory  Neglected — Declamation  takes  its  place — Porcius  Latro — 
Annaeus  Seneca — History — Livy — Opportune  appearance  of  his 
work— Criticism  of  his  method — Pompeius  Trogus — Vitruvius — 
Grammarians — Fenestella — Verrius  Flaccus — Hyginus — Law  and 
philosophy,  .  ,  .  .  .  .  .319 

Appendix. — Note  I.  A  Suasoria  translated  from  Seneca,  .  .   331 

„  II  Some  Observations  on  ths  Theory  of  ltfieioric,  from 

Quintilian,  Book  III.  .  .  .33*      ^ 


<r 


-k 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

BOOK  IIL 
THE    DECLINE. 

FROM  THE  ACCESSION  OF  TIBERIUS  TO  THE  DEATH  OF  M.  ATJRELnJg, 

A.D.  14-180, 

Chapter  L 
The  Age  of  Tiberius  (14-37  A.D.).  PAOB 

Sadden  collapse  of  letters — Cause  of  this — Tiberius — Changed  position 
of  literature — Vellius  Paterculus — Valerius  Maximus — Celsus — 
Remmius  Palaemon  —  Gernianieus  —  Phaedrus  —  Pomponius 
Secuudus  the  tragedian,      •  •....  840 

Chapter  II. 

The  Reigns  of  Caligula,  Claudius,  and  Nero  (37-68  A.D.). 

1.  Poets. 

The  Neronian  period  an  epoch — Peculiar  characteristics  of  its  writers 
— Literary  pretensions  of  Caligula — of  Claudius  -of  Nero — Poem 
on  Calpurnius  Piso — Relation  of  philosophy  to  life — Cornutus — 
Persius — Lucan — Criticism  of  the  PJiarsalia — Eclogues  of  Calpur- 
nius— The  poem  on  Etna — Tragedies  of  Seueca  -The  o.itoko\o- 
KVVTUHTIS,       •>••••••   352 

Chapter  III. 

The  Reigns  of  Caligula,  Claudius,  and  Nero, 
2.  Prose  Writers — Seneca. 

Ilirt  importance — Life  and  writings — Influence  of  his  exile — Relations 
with  Nero — His  death — Is  he  a  Stoic  ? — Gradual  convergence  of 
the  different  schools  of  thought — Seneca  a  teacher  more  than  any- 
thing else — His  conception  of  philosophy — Supposed  connection 
wilh  Christianity — Estimate  of  his  character  and  style,      •  .878 

Chapter  IV. 

The  Reigns  of  Caligula,  Claudius,  and  Nero. 
3.  Oilier  Prose  Writers. 

Domitius  Corbulo — Quintus  Curtius— Columella—  Pomponius  Mela — 
Valerius  Probus — Petronius  Arbiter — Account  cf  las  extant  frag- 
ments,        .  .......   392 

ArPENDix  —Note  I.  The  Testamentum  Porcelli,  •  •  397 

„    II    On  the  MS   of  Petronius,  .  .  301 


/ 


CONTENTS,  XV 

Chapter  V. 

The  Reigns  of  the  Flavian  Emperors  (69-96  A.D.). 

1.  Prose  Writers.  PAG2 

A.  new  literary  epoch — Marked  by  common  characteristics — Decay  of 
national  genius — Pliny  the  elder — Account  of  his  death  translated 
from  the  younger  Pliny — His  studious  habits — The  Natural  History 
— Its  character  and  value — Quintilian — Account  of  his  book 
de  Institutione  Oratoria — Frontinus— A  valuable  and  accurate 
writer — Grammatical  studies,  •  .  .  •  •  400 

Appendix. — Quintilian's  Criticism  on  the  Roman  Authors,       .  .  413 

Chapter  VI. 

The  Reigns  of  Vespasian,  Titus,  and  Domitian  (69-96  a.d.). 

2.  Poets. 

Reduced  scope  of  poetry — Poetry  the  most  dependent  on  external  condi- 
tions of  any  form  of  written  literature — Valerius  Flaccus — Silins 
— His  death  as  described  by  Pliny — His  poem — The  elder  Statius 
— Statins — An  extempore  poet — His  public  recitations — The  Silvae 
— The  Thcbaid  and  Achilhid — His  similes — Arruntius  Stella 
— Martial  —  His  death  as  recounted  by  Pliny — The  epigram — 
Other  poets,  .......  41S 

Appendix. — On  the  Similes  of  Virgil,  Lucan,  and  Statius,        •  •  43fr 


Chapter  VII. 
The  Reigns  of  Nerva  and  Trajan  (96-117  A.D. % 

Pliny  the  younger — His  oratory — His  correspondence — Letter  to  Trajan 
— Velius  Longus — Hyginus — Balbus — Flaccus — Juvenal — His  life 
A  linished  declaimer — His  character — His  political  views — Style — 
Taci  tus  — Dialogue  on  eloquence — Agricola — Ger  mania — Histories 
— Annals — intended  work  on  Augustus's  reign — Style,      .  ,  437 


Chapter  VIII. 
The  Reigns  of  Hadrian  and  the  Antonines  (117-180  a.d.). 

Era  of  African  Latinity — Differs  from  the  Silver  Age — Hadrian's  poetry 
— Suetonius — His  life — List  of  writings — Lives  of  the  Caesars — His 
account  ol  Nero's  death — Floras — Salvias  Julianus  and  Sextus 
Pomponius — Fronto — His  relations  with  Aurelius — List  of  his  works 
— Gellius — Gaius — Poems  of  the  period — Pervigilium  Veneris — 
Apuleius — De  Magi  a — Metamorphoses  or  Golden  Ass — Cupid  and 
Purnhe — his  philosophical  works,    .  ...   45? 


Xvi  CONTENTH. 


Chapter  IX. 

State  of  Philosophical  and  Religious  Thought  during  the  Period  of  ths 

Antonines — Conclusion, 

PAGl 

Greek  eloquence  revives  in  the  Sophists — Itinerant  rhetors — Cynic 
preachers  of  virtue — The  better  class  of  popular  philosophers —  Dio 
Chrysostom — Union  of  philosophy  and  rhetoric — Greek  now  the 
language  of  general  literature — Reconciliation  of  philosophy  with 
religion — The  Platonist  school — Apuleius — Doctrine  of  daemons 
— Decline  of  thought — General  review  of  the  main  features  of 
Roman  literature— Conclusion,       •  •  •  /  •  172 


Chronological  Table,  ■  • 

List  of  Editions  Recommended,       . 
Questions  or  Subjects  for  Essays,  Jfcc, 
Index,    ♦  .  . 


• 

• 

• 

,  4*3 

• 

• 

• 

.  4*7 

• 

I 

• 

.  490 

• 

> 

k 

.  405 

HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


INTRODUCTION'. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  during  neaily 
the  whole  of  the  eighteenth,  the  literature  of  Eome  exercised  an 
imperial  sway  over  European  taste.  Pope  thought  fit  to  assume  an 
apologetic  tone  when  he  cJuthcd  Homer  in  an  English  dress,  and 
reminded  tne  world  that,  as  compared  with  Virgil,  the  Greek  poet 
bad  at  least  the  merit  of  coming  first.  His  own  mind  was  of  an 
emphatically  Latin  order.  The  great  poets  of  his  day  mostly  based 
their  art  on  the  canons  recognised  by  Horace.  And  when  poetry 
was  thus  affected,  it  was  natural  that  philosophy,  history,  and  criti- 
cism should  yield  to  the  same  influence.  A  rhetorical  form,  a  satirical 
Bpirit,  and  an  appeal  to  common  sense  as  supreme  judge,  stamp  most 
of  the  writers  of  western  Europe  as  so  far  pupils  of  Horace,  Cicero, 
and  Tacitus.  At  present  the  tide  has  turned.  We  are  living  in  a 
period  of  strong  reaction.  The  nineteenth  century  not  only  differs 
from  the  eighteenth,  but  in  all  fundamental  questions  is  opposed 
to  it.  Its  products  have  been  strikingly  original.  In  art,  poetry, 
science,  the  spread  of  culture,  and  the  investigation  of  the  basis  of 
truth,  it  yields  to  no  other  epoch  of  equal  length  in  the  history  of 
modern  times.  If  we  go  to  either  of  the  nations  of  antiquity  to 
seek  for  an  animating  impulse,  it  will  not  be  Rome  but  Greece 
that  will  immediately  suggest  itself  to  us.  Greek  ideas  of  aesthetic 
beauty,  and  Greek  freedom  of  abstract  thought,  are  being  dissemi- 
nated in  the  world  with  unexampled  rapidity.  Rome,  and  her 
soberer,  less  original,  and  less  stimulating  literature,  find  no  place  for 
influence.  The  readiness  w  ith  which  the  leading  nations  drink  from 
the  well  of  Greek  genius  points  to  a  special  adaptation  between 
the  two.  Epochs  of  upheaval,  when  thought  is  rife,  progress  rapid, 
and  tradition,  political  or  religious,  boldly  examined,  turn,  as  if 


2  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

by  necessity,  to  ancient  Greece  for  inspiration.  The  Church  of  the 
second  and  third  centuries,  when  Christian  thought  claimed  and 
won  its  place  among  the  intellectual  revolutions  of  the  world,  did 
not  disdain  the  analogies  of  Greek  philosophy.  The  Eenaissance 
owed  its  rise,  and  the  Keformation  much  of  its  fertility,  to  the  study 
jf  Greek.  And  the  sea  of  intellectual  activity  which  now  surges 
round  us  moves  ceaselessly  about  questions  which  society  has  not 
asked  itself  since  Greece  started  them  more  than  twenty  centuries 
age.  On  the  other  hand,  periods  of  order,  when  government  is 
strong  and  progress  restrained,  recognise  their  prototypes  in  the 
civilisation  of  Rome,  and  their  exponents  in  her  literature.  Such 
was  the  time  of  the  Church's  greatest  power  :  such  was  also  that 
Df  the  fully  developed  monarchy  in  France,  and  of  aristocratic 
ascendancy  in  England.  Thus  the  two  literatures  wield  alter- 
nate influence ;  the  one  on  the  side  of  liberty,  the  other  on 
the  side  of  government;  the  one  as  urging  restless  movement 
towards  the  ideal,  the  other  as  counselling  steady  acceptance  of  the 
real. 

From  a  more  restricted  point  of  view,  the  utility  of  Latin  litera- 
ture may  be  sought  in  the  practical  standard  of  its  thought,  and 
in  the  almost  faultless  correctness  of  its  composition.  On  the  for- 
mer there  is  no  need  to  enlarge,  for  it  has  always  been  amply  r^coo'- 
nised.  The  latter  excellence  fits  it  above  all  for  an  educational 
use.  There  is  probably  no  language  which  in  this  respect  comes 
near  to  it.  The  Romans  have  been  called  with  justice  a  nation 
of  grammarians.  The  greatest  commanders  and  statesmen  did 
not  disdain  to  analyse  the  syntax  and  fix  the  spelling  of  their 
language.  From  the  outset  of  Eoman  literature  a  knowledge  of 
scientific  grammar  prevailed.  Hence  the  act  of  composition  and 
the  knowledge  of  its  theory  went  hand  in  hand.  The  result  is  that 
among  Roman  classical  authors  scarce  a  sentence  can  be  detected 
which  offends  against  logical  accuracy,  or  defies  critical  analysis. 
In  this  Latin  stands  alone.  The  powerful  intellect  of  an  Aeschylus 
or  Thucydides  did  not  prevent  them  from  transgressing  laws  which 
in  their  day  were  undiscovered,  and  which  their  own  writing 
helped  to  form.  Nor  in  modern  times  could  we  find  a  single 
language  in  \i  hich  the  idioms  of  the  best  writers  could  be  reduced 
to  conformity  with  strict  rule.  French,  which  at  first  sight  appears 
to  offer  such  an  instance,  is  seen  on  a  closer  view  to  be  fuller  of 
illogical  idioms  than  any  other  language ;  its  symmetrical  exactness 
arises  from  clear  combination  and  restriction  of  single  forms  to 
a  single  use.  English,  at  least  in  its  older  form,  abounds  in 
special  idioms,  and  German  is  still  less  likely  to  be  adduced.  As 
long,  therefore,  as  a  penetrating  insight  into  syntactical  structure  is 


INTRODUCTION.  3 

considered  desirable,  so  long  will  Latin  offer  the  best  field  for  ob- 
taining it.  In  gaining  accuracy,  however,  classical  Latin  suffered 
a  grievous  loss.  It  became  a  cultivated  as  distinct  from  a  natural 
language.  It  was  at  first  separated  from  the  dialect  of  the  people, 
and  afterwards  carefully  preserved  from  all  contamination  by  it. 
Only  a  restricted  number  of  words  were  admitted  into  its  select 
vocabulary.  We  learn  from  Servius  that  Virgil  was  censured  for 
admitting  avunculus  into  epic  verse  ;  and  Quintilian  says  that 
the  prestige  of  ancient  use  alone  permits  the  appearance  in  litera- 
ture of  words  like  balare,  hinnire,  and  all  imitative  sounds.1 
Spontaneity,  therefore,  became  impossible,  and  soon  invention  also 
ceased  ;  and  the  imperial  writers  limit  their  choice  to  such  words 
as  had  the  authority  of  classical  usage.  In  a  certain  sense,  there- 
fore, Latin  was  studied  as  a  dead  language,  while  it  was  still  a 
living  one.  Classical  composition,  even  in  the  time  of  Juvenal, 
must  have  been  a  labour  analagous  to,  though,  of  course,  much 
less  than,  that  of  the  Italian  scholars  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It 
was  inevitable  that  when  fie  repositaries  of  the  literary  idiom  were 
dispersed,  it  should  at  once  fall  into  irrecoverable  disuse ;  and 
though  never  properly  a  dead  language,  should  have  remained  as 
it  began,  an  artificially  cultivated  one.2  An  important  claim  on 
our  attention  put  forward  by  Eoman  literature  is  founded  upon 
its  actual  historical  position.  Imitative  it  certainly  is.3  But  it  is 
not  the  only  one  that  is  imitative.  All  modern  literature  is  so  too, 
in  so  far  as  it  makes  a  conscious  effort  after  an  external  standard. 
Koine  may  seem  to  be  more  of  a  copyist  than  any  of  her  successors ; 
but  then  they  have  among  other  models  Rome  herself  to  follow. 
The  way  in  which  Koman  taste,  thought,  and  expression  have 
found  their  way  into  the  modern  world,  makes  them  peculiarly 
worthy  of  study ;  and  the  deliberate  method  of  undertaking  liter- 
ary composition  practised  by  the  great  writers  and  clearly  trace- 
able in  their  productions,  affords  the  best  possible  study  of  the 
laws  and  conditions  under  which  literary  excellence  is  attainable. 
Kules  for  composition  would  be  hard  to  draw  from  Greek  examples, 
and  would  need  a  Greek  critic  to  formulate  them.  But  the  con- 
scious workmanship  of  the  Romans  shows  us  technical  method  as 
separable  from  the  complex  ajsthetic  result,  and  therefore  is  an  ex- 
cellent guide  in  the  art. 

1  Quint.  I.  5,  72.     The  whole  chapter  is  most  interesting. 

2  How  different  has  been  the  lot  of  Greek  !  An  educated  Greek  at  ths 
present  day  would  find  little  difficulty  in  understanding  Xenophon  or 
Menander.  The  language,  though  shaken  by  rude  convulsions,  has  changed 
according  to  its  own  laws,  and  shown  that  natural  vitality  that  belong*  to 
a  genuinely  popular  speech. 

•  See  Conington  on  the  Academical  Study  of  Latin.     Post.  Works,  i.  20(X. 


NJ 


*  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

The  traditional  account  of  the  origin  of  literature  at  Rome^ 
accepted  by  the  Romans  themselves,  is  that  it  was  entirely  due  to 
contact  with  Greece.  Many  scholars,  however,  have  advanced 
the  opinion  that,  at  an  earlier  epoch,  Etruria  exercised  an  impor- 
tant influence,  and  that  much  of  that  artistic,  philosophical,  and 
literary  impulse,  which  we  commonly  ascribe  to  Greece,  was  in  its 
elements,  at  least,  really  due  to  her.  Mommsen's  researches  hava 
re-established  on  a  firmer  basis  the  superior  claims  of  Greece.  He 
shows  that  Etruscan  civilisation  was  itself  modelled  in  its  best 
features  on  the  Hellenic,  that  it  was  essentially  weak  and  unpro- 
gressive  and,  except  in  religion  (where  it  held  great  sway)  and  in 
the  sphere  of  public  amusements,  unable  permanently  to  impress 
itself  upon  Rome.1  Thus  the  literary  epoch  dates  from  the  con- 
quest of  Magna  Graecia.  After  the  fall  of  Tarentum  the  Romans 
were  suddenly  familiarised  with  the  chief  products  of  the  Hellenic 
mind ;  and  the  first  Punic  war  which  followed,  unlike  all  previous 
wars,  was  favourable  to  the  effects  of  this  introduction.  Eor  it 
was  waged  far  from  Roman  soil,  and  so  relieved  the  people  from 
those  daily  alarms  which  are  fatal  to  the  calm  demanded  by 
study.  Moreover  it  opened  Sicily  to  their  arms,  where,  more 
than  in  any  part  of  Europe  except  Greece  itself,  the  treasures  of 
Greek  genius  were  enshrined.  A  systematic  treatment  of  Latin 
literature  cannot  therefore  begin  before  Livius  Andronicus.  The 
preceding  ages,  barren  as  they  were  of  literary  effort,  afford 
little  to  notice  except  the  progress  of  the  language.  To  this  subject 
a  short  essay  has  been  devoted,  as  well  as  to  the  elements  of 
literary  development  which  existed  in  Rome  before  the  regular 
literature.  There  are  many  signs  in  tradition  and  early  history  of 
relations  between  Greece  and  Rome;  as  the  decemviral  legisla- 
tion, the  various  consultations  of  the  Delphic  Oracle,  the  legends 
of  Pythagoras  and  Numa,  of  Lake  Regillus,  and,  indeed,  the 
whole  story  of  the  Tarquins ;  the  importation  of  a  Greek  alphabet, 
and  of  several  names  familiar  to  Greek  legend — Ulysses,  Poenus, 
Catamitus,  &c. — all  antecedent  to  the  Pyrrhic  war.  But  these  are 
neither  numerous  enough  nor  certain  enough  to  afford  a  sound 
basis  for  generalisation.  They  have  therefore  been  merely 
touched  on  in  the  introductory  essays,  which  simply  aim  at  a 
compendious  registration  of  the  main  points ;  all  fuller  informa- 
tion belonging  rather  to  the  antiquarian  department  of  history 
and  to  philology  than  to  a  sketch  of  the  written  literature. 
The  divisions  of  tlv  subject  will  be  those  naturally  suggested 
by  the  history  of  the  language,  and  recently  adopted  bj 
leuffel,  i.e. — 

1  See  esp.  R.  H.  Bk.  1,  ch.  ix.  and  xv. 


INTRODUCTION.  5 

1.  The  sixth  and  seventh  centuries  of  the  city  (240-80  B.C.), 
from  Livius  to  Sulla. 

2.  The  Golden  Age,  from  Cicero  to  Ovid  (80  b.o.-a.d.  14). 

3.  The  period  of  the  Decline,  from  the  accession  of  Tiberius  tc 
the  death  of  Marcus  Aurelius  (14-180  a.d.). 

These  Periods  are  distinguished  by  certain  strongly  marked 
characteristics.  The  First,  which  comprises  the  history  of  the 
legitimate  drama,  of  the  early  epos  and  satire,  and  the  beginning  , 
of  prose  composition,  is  marked  by  immaturity  of  art  and 
language,  by  a  vigorous  but  ill-disciplined  imitation  of  Greek 
poetical  models,  and  in  prose  by  a  dry  sententiousness  of  style, 
gradually  giving  way  to  a  clear  and  fluent  strength,  which  was 
characteristic  of  the  speeches  of  Gracchus  and  Antonius.  This 
was  the  epoch  when  literature  was  popular;  or  at  least  more 
nearly  so  than  at  any  subsequent  period.  It  saw  the  rise  and  fall 
of  dramatic  art :  in  other  respects  it  merely  introduced  the  forms 
which  were  carried  to  perfection  in  the  Ciceronian  and  Augustan 
ages.  The  language  did  not  greatly  improve  in  smoothness,  oi 
adaptation  to  express  finished  thought.  The  ancients,  indeed, 
saw  a  difference  between  Ennius,  Pacuvius,  and  Accius,  but  it  may 
be  questioned  whether  the  advance  would  be  perceptible  by  us. 
Still  the  labor  limae  unsparingly  employed  by  Terence,  the  rules 
of  good  writing  laid  down  by  Lucilius,  and  the  labours  of  the 
great  grammarians  and  orators  at  the  close  of  the  period,  pre- 
pared the  language  for  that  rapid  development  which  it  at  once 
assumed  in  the  masterly  hands  of  Cicero. 

The  Second  Period  represents  the  highest  excellence  in  prose 
and  poetry.  The  prose  era  came  first,  and  is  signalised  by  the 
names  of  Cicero,  Sallust,  and  Caesar.  The  celebrated  writers 
were  now  mostly  men  of  action  and  high  position  in  the  state. 
The  principles  of  the  language  had  become  fixed ;  its  grammatical 
construction  was  thoroughly  understood,  and  its  peculiar  genius 
wisely  adapted  to  those  forms  of  composition  in  which  it  was 
naturally  capable  of  excelling.  The  perfection  of  poetry  was  not 
attained  until  the  time  of  Augustus.  Two  poets  of  the  highest 
renown  had  indeed  flourished  in  the  republican  period;  but 
though  endowed  with  lofty  genius  they  are  greatly  inferior  to 
their  successors  in  sustained  art,  e.g.  the  constructions  of  prose  still 
dominate  unduly  in  the  domain  of  verse,  and  the  intricacies  of 
rhythm  are  not  fully  mastered.  On  the  other  hand,  prose  has,  in 
the  Augustan  age,  lost  somewhat  of  its  breadth  and  vigour. 
Even  the  beautiful  style  of  Iivy  shows  traces  of  that  intrusion 
of  the  poetic  element  which  made  such  destructive  inroads  into 
the  manner  of  the  later  prose  writers.     In  this  period  the  writer* 


6  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

as  a  rule  are  not  public  men,  but  belong  to  what  we  should  call 
the  literary  class.  They  wrote  not  for  the  public  but  for  tha 
select  circle  of  educated  men  whose  ranks  were  gradually  narrow- 
ing their  limits  to  the  great  injury  of  literature.  If  we  ask 
which  of  the  two  sections  of  this  period  marks  the  most  strictly 
national  development,  the  answer  must  be — the  Ciceronian ;  foi 
while  the  advancement  of  any  literature  is  more  accurately  tested 
by  its  prose  writers  than  by  its  poets,  this  is  specially  the  case 
with  the  Romans,  whose  genius  was  essentially  prosaic.  Attention 
now  began  to  bo  bestowed  on  physical  science,  and  the  applied 
sciences  also  received  systematic  treatment.  The  rhetorical 
element,  which  had  hitherto  been  overpowered  by  the  oratorical, 
comes  prominently  forward ;  but  it  does  not  as  yet  predominate  to 
a  prejudicial  extent. 

The  Third  Period,  though  of  long  duration,  has  its  chief  char- 
acteristics clearly  defined  from  the  beginning.  The  foremost  of 
these  is  unreality,  arising  from  the  extinction  of  freedom  and 
consequent  loss  of  interest  in  public  life.  At  the  same  time,  the 
"Romans,  being  made  for  political  activity,  did  not  readily  content 
themselves  with  the  less  exciting  successes  of  literary  life.  The 
applause  of  the  lecture-room  was  a  poor  substitute  for  the  thunders 
of  the  assembly.  Hence  arose  a  declamatory  tone,  which  strove 
by  frigid  and  almost  hysterical  exaggeration  to  make  up  for  the 
healthy  stimulus  afforded  by  daily  contact  with  affairs.  The  vein 
of  artificial  rhetc  ric,  antithesis,  and  epigram,  which  prevails  from 
Lucan  to  Pronto,  owes  its  origin  to  this  forced  contentment  with 
an  uncongenial  sphere.  With  the  decay  of  freedom,  taste  sank, 
and  that  so  rapidly  that  Seneca  and  Lucan  transgress  nearly  as 
much  against  its  canons  as  writers  two  generations  later.  The 
flowers  which  had  bloomed  so  delicately  in  the  wreath  of  the 
Augustan  poets,  short-lived  as  fragrant,  scatter  their  sweetness  no 
more  in  the  rank  weed-grown  garden  of  their  successors. 

The  character  of  this  and  of  each  epoch  will  be  dwelt  on  more 
at  length  as  it  comes  before  us  for  special  consideration,  as  well  as 
the  social  or  religious  phenomena  which  influenced  the  modes  of 
thought  or  expression.  The  great  mingling  of  nationalities  in 
Rome  during  the  Empire  necessarily  produced  a  corresponding 
divergence  in  style,  if  not  in  ideas.  Nevertheless,  although  we 
can  trace  the  national  traits  of  a  Lucan  or  a  Martial  underneath 
their  Eoman  culture,  the  fusion  of  separate  elements  in  the  vast 
capital  was  so  complete,  or  her  influence  so  overpowering,  that  the 
general  resemblance  far  outweighs  the  differences,  and  it  is  easy 
to  discern  the  common  features  which  signalise  unmistakeably  thfl 
writers  of  the  Silver  Age, 


BOOK   I. 


\ 


BOOK  I. 


CHAPTER  L 

On  the  Earliest  Remains  op  the  Latin  Language 

The  question,  Who  were  the  earliest  inhabitants  of  Italy  1  is  ono 
that  cannot  certainly  be  answered.  That  some  lower  race,  analo- 
gous to  those  displaced  in  other  parts  of  Europe1  by  the 
Celts  and  Teutons,  existed  in  Italy  at  a  remote  period  is  indeed 
highly  probable ;  but  it  has  not  been  clearly  demonstrated.  At 
the  dawn  of  the  historic  period,  we  find  the  Messapian  and  Iapy- 
gian  races  inhabiting  the  extreme  south  and  south-west  of  Italy  ; 
and  assuming,  as  we  must,  that  their  migrations  had  proceeded 
by  land  across  the  Apennines,  we  shall  draw  the  inference  that 
they  had  been  gradually  pushed  by  stronger  immigrants  into 
the  furthest  corner  of  the  Peninsula.  Thus  we  conclude  with 
Mommsen  that  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  the  historical  aborigines 
of  Italy.  They  form  no  part,  however,  of  the  Italian  race.  Weak 
and  easily  acted  upon,  they  soon  ceased  to  have  any  influence  on 
the  immigrant  tribes,  and  within  a  few  centuries  they  had  all  but 
disappeared  as  a  separate  nation.  \  xhe  Italian  races,  properly 
so  called,  who  possessed  the  country  at  the  time  of  the  origin  of 
Rome,  are  referable  to  two  main  groups,  the  Latin  and  the 
Umbrian.  Of  these,  the  Latin  was  numerically  by  far  the 
smaller,  and  was  at  first  confined  within  a  narrow  and  somewhat 
isolated  range  of  territory.  The  Umbrian  stock,  including  the 
Samnite  or  Oscan,  the  Volscian  and  the  Marsian,  had  a  m«re 
extended  area.  At  one  time  it  possessed  the  district  afterwards 
known  as  Etruria,  as  well  as  the  Sabellian  and  Umbrian  territories. 
Of  the  numerous  dialects  spoken  by  this  race,  two  only  are  in 
«oine  degree  known  to  us  (chiefly  from  inscriptions)  the  Umbrian 
1  E.g.  Finns,  Lapps,  or  other  Turanian  tiibes. 


10  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  the  Oscan.  These  show  a  close  affinity  with  one  another,  and 
a  decided,  though  more  distant,  relationship  with  the  Latin.  All 
three  belong  to  a  well-marked  division  of  the  Indo-European 
speech,  to  which  the  name  of  Italic  is  given.  Its  nearest  congener 
is  the  Hellenic,  the  next  most  distant  being  the  Celtic.  The  Hel- 
lenic and  Italic  may  thus  be  called  sister  languages,  the  Celtic 
standing  in  the  position  of  cousin  to  both,  though,  on  the  whole, 
more  akin  to  the  Italic1 

The  Etruscan  language  is  still  a  riddle  to  philolc  gists,  and  until 
it  is  satisfactorily  investigated  the  ethnological  position  of  the 
people  that  spoke  it  must  be  a  matter  of  dispute.  The  few  words 
and  forms  which  have  been  deciphered  lend  support  to  the  other- 
wise more  probable  theory  that  they  were  an  Indo-Germanic  race 
only  remotely  allied  to  the  Italians,  in  respect  of  whom  they 
maintained  to  quite  a  late  period  many  distinctive  traits.2  But 
though  the  Romans  were  long  familiar  with  the  literature  and 
customs  of  Etruria,  and  adopted  many  Etruscan  words  into  their 
language,  neither  of  these  causes  influenced  the  literary  develop- 
ment of  the  Romans  in  any  appreciable  degree.  Italian  philology 
and  ethnology  have  been  much  complicated  by  reference  to  the 
Etruscan  element.  It  is  best  to  regard  it,  like  the  Iapygian,  as 
altogether  outside  the  pale  of  genuine  Italic  ethnography. 

The  main  points  of  correspondence  between  the  Italic  dialects  as 
a  whole,  by  which  they  are  distinguished  from  the  Greek,  are  as 
follow  : — Firstly,  they  all  retain  the  spirants  S,  J  (pronounced  Y), 
and  V,  e.g.  sub,  vespera,  janitrices,  beside  vtto,  io-Trtpa,  cim-repcs. 
Again,  the  Italian  u  is  nearer  the  original  sound  than  the  Greek. 
The  Greeks  sounded  v  like  ii,  and  expressed  the  Latin  u  for  the 
most  part  by  ov.  On  the  other  hand  the  Italians  lost  the  aspirated 
letters  th,  ph,  ch,  which  re?aain  in  Greek,  and  frequently  omitted 
the  simple  aspirate.  They  lost  also  the  dual  both  in  nouns  and 
verbs,  and  all  but  a  few  fragmentary  forms  of  the  middle  verb. 
In  inflexion  they  retain  the  sign  of  the  ablative  (d),  and,  at  least 
in  Latin,  the  dac.  plur.  in  bus.  They  express  the  passive  by  the 
letter  r,  a  weakened  form  of  the  reflexive,  the  principle  of  whicr* 
is  reproduced  in  more  than  one  of  the  Romance  languages. 

On  the  other  hand,  Latin  differs  from  the  other  Italian  dialect* 
in  numerous  points.  In  pronouns  and  elsewhere  Latin  q  becomes 
p  in  Umbrian  and  Oscan  (pis  =  quis).     Again,  Oscan  had  two 

1  The  Latin  agrees  with  the  Celtic  in  the  retention  of  the  dat.  plur.  in 
bus  (Celt,  ib),  Rigaib  =  regibus  ;    and  the  pass,  in  r,  Berthar=/ertur. 

2  Cf.  Plaut.  Core.  150,  Lydi  (v.  1,  ludii)  barbari.  So  Vos>  Tusci  or,  barbaric 
Tib.  Gracch.  apud  Oic.  de  Div.  ii.  4.  Cwnpare  Virgil's  Phiguu 
Tyrrlienus. 


THE  EARLIEST  REMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.         U 

vowels  more  than  Latin  and  was  much  more  conservative  o! 
diphthongal  sounds ;  it  also  used  double  consonants,  which  old 
Latin  did  not.  The  Oscan  and  Umbrian  alphabets  were  taken  from 
the  Etruscan,  the  Latin  from  the  Greek ;  hence  the  former  lacked 
O  Q  X,  and  used  I  or  zfc  (san  or  soft  z)  for  z  (zeta  =  ds).  They 
possessed  the  spirant  F  which  they  expressed  by  8,  and  used  the 
symbol  fc  to  denote  V  or  W.  They  preserved  the  old  genitive  in 
as  or  ar  (Lat.  ai,  ae)  and  the  locative,  both  which  were  rarely 
found  in  Latin;  also  the  Indo-European  future  in  so  (didest, 
her  est)  and  the  infin.  in  um  (e.g.  ezum  =  esse). 

The  old  Latin  alphabet  was  taken  from  the  Dorian  alphabet  of 
Cumae,  a  colony  from  Chalcis,  and  consisted  of  twenty-one 
letters,  ABCDEFZHIKLMNOPQRSTVX,  to 
which  the  original  added  three  more,  O  or  0  (th),  ©  (ph),  and  ty 
(ch).  These  were  retained  in  Latin  as  numerals  though  not  as  letters, 
6  in  the  form  of  C=  100,  Q  or  M  as  1000,  and  $  or  L  as  50. 

Of  these  letters  Z  fell  out  of  use  at  an  early  period,  its  power 
being  expressed  by  S  (Sagwitum  =  ZaKvv6os)  or  SS  (inassa  = 
yu,cit£a).  Its  rejection  was  followed  by  the  introduction  of  G. 
Plutarch  ascribes  this  change  to  Sp.  Carvilius  about  231  B.C.,  but 
it  is  found  on  inscriptions  nearly  fifty  years  earlier.1  In  many 
words  C  was  written  for  G  down  to  a  late  period,  e.g.  GN.  was 
the  recognised  abbreviation  for  Gnaeus. 

In  Cicero's  time  Z  was  taken  into  use  again  as  well  as  the 
Greek  Y,  and  the  Greek  combinations  TH,  PH,  CH,  chiefly  for 
purposes  of  transliteration.  The  Emperor  Claudius  introduced 
three  fresh  symbols,  two  of  which  appear  more  or  less  frequently 
on  monuments  of  his  time.  They  are  d  or  i,  the  inverted 
digamma,  intended  to  represent  the  consonantal  V :  q,  or  anti- 
sigma,  to  represent  the  Greek  M>,  and  h  to  represent  the  Greek 
v  with  the  sound  of  the  French  u  or  German  u.  The  second  is 
not  found  in  inscriptions. 

Other  innovations  were  the  doubling  of  vowels  to  denote  length, 
a  device  employed  by  the  Oscans  and  introduced  at  Rome  by  the 
poet  Accius,  though  Quintilian  2  implies  that  it  was  known  before* 
his  time,  and  the  doubling  of  consonants  which  was  adopted  from 
the  Greek  by  Ennius.  In  Greek,  however,  such  doubling  gener- 
ally, though  not  always,  has  a  philological  justification.3 

1  Tt  is  probable  that  Sp.  Carvilius  merely  popularised  the  use  of  this 
letter,  and  perhaps  gave  it  its  place  iu  the  alphabet  as  seventh  letter. 

2  Inst.  Or.  1,  7,  14. 

8  In  Cicerorfl  time  the  semi-vowel  j  in  the  middle  of  words  was  oftea 
denoted  by  ii  ;  and  the  long  vowel  i  represented  by  the  prolongation  of  thf 
letter  above  and  sometimes  below  the  line. 


12  IIISTOKY  OF  ROMAN  L1TERATUKE. 

The  pronunciation  of  Latin  has  recently  been  the  subject  of 
much  discussion.  It  seems  clear  that  the  vowels  did  not  dii'er 
greatly,  if  at  all,  from  the  same  as  pronounced  by  the  modern 
Italians.  The  distinction  between  E  and  I,  however,  was  less 
clearly  marked,  at  least  in  the  popular  speech.  Inscriptions  and 
manuscripts  afford  abundant  instances  of  their  confusion.  Memrm 
ieber  magester  are  mentioned  by  Quintilian,1  and  the  employment 
of  ei  for  the  i  of  the  dat.  pi.  of  nouns  of  the  second  declension 
and  of  nobis  voids,  and  of  e  and  i  indifferently  for  the  ace.  pi. 
of  nouns  of  the  third  declension,  attest  the  similarity  of  sound 
That  the  spirant  J  was  in  all  cases  pronounced  as  Y  there  is 
scarcely  room  for  doubt.  The  pronunciation  of  V  is  still  unde- 
termined, though  there  is  a  great  preponderance  of  evidence  in 
favour  of  the  W  sound  having  been  the  original  one.  After  the 
first  century  a.d.  this  semi-vowel  began  to  develop  into  the  labio- 
dental consonant  v,  the  intermediate  stage  being  a  labial  v,  such 
as  one  may  often  hear  in  South  Germany  at  the  present  day,  and 
which  to  ordinary  ears  would  seem  undistinguishable  from  w. 

There  is  little  to  remark  about  the  other  letters,  except  th;st 
S,  N,  and  M  became  very  weak  when  final  and  were  often  entirely 
lost.  S  was  rehabilitated  in  the  literary  dialect  in  the  time  of 
Cicero,  who  speaks  of  the  omission  to  reckon  it  as  subrusticum; 
but  final  M  is  always  elided  before  a  vowel.  An  illustration  of 
the  way  in  which  final  M  and  1ST  were  weakened  may  be  found 
in  the  nasalised  pronunciation  of  them  in  modern  French  (main,, 
/aim).  The  gutturals  C  and  G  have  by  some  been  supposed  to 
have  had  from  the  first  a  soft  sibilant  sound  before  E  and  I ;  but 
from  the  silence  of  all  the  grammarians  on  the  subject,  from  the 
transcriptions  of  C  in  Greek  by  k,  not  o-  or  r,  and  from  the 
inscriptions  and  MSS.  of  the  best  ages  not  confusing  CI  with  TT, 
we  conclude  that  at  any  rate  until  200  a.d.  C  and  G  were 
sounded  hard  before  all  vowels.  The  change  operated  quickly 
enough  afterwards,  and  to  a  great  extent  through  the  influence  of 
the  Umbrian  which  had  used  d  or  q  before  E  and  I  for  some  time. 

In  spelling  much  irregularity  prevailed,  as  must  always  be  the 
case  where  there  is  no  sound  etymological  theory  on  which  to 
base  it.  In  the  earliest  inscriptions  we  find  many  inconsistencies. 
The  case-signs  ra,  d,  are  sometimes  retained,  sometimes  lost.  In 
t  second  Scipionic  epitaph  we  have  olno  (unum)  side  by  sida 
with  Luciom.  In  the  Cohtmna  Rorfraia  (260  B.C.)  we  have  c  foi 
g,  single  instead  of  double  consonants,  et  for  it  in  ornaoet,  and  o 
for  u  in  terminations,  all  marks  of  ancient  spelling,  contrasted 

1  h  *>  * 


THE  EaKLIES'i  REMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.         13 

with  maxhnosy  maxumos ;  navebos,  navebous ;  praeda>  and  othei 
inconsistent  or  modern  forms.  Perhaps  a  later  restoration  may 
account  for  these.  In  the  decree  of  Aemilius,  posedUeut  and 
possidere  are  found.  In  the  Lex  Agraria  we  have  pnqunia  and 
peernua,  in  S.  C.  de  Bacchanalibus,  senatuos  and  twminus  (gen. 
sing.),  coiisolu<runt  and  coaoleretur,  &c,  showing  that  even  in 
legal  documents  orthography  was  not  fixed.  It  is  the  same  in  the 
MSS.  of  ancient  authors.  The  oldest  MSS.  of  Plautus,  Lucretius, 
and  Virgil,  are  consistent  hi  a  considerable  number  of  forms  with 
themselves  and  with  each  other,  but  vary  in  a  still  larger  number. 
In  antiquity,  as  at  present,  there  was  a  conflict  between  sound 
and  etymology.  A  word  was  pronounced  in  one  way;  science 
suggested  that  it  ought  to  be  written  in  another.  This  accounts 
for  such  variations  as  inperiu m,  impevium  ;  afque,  adqne  ;  exspecto, 
expect o  ;  and  the  like  (cases  like  haud.,  haut ;  saxum,  saxsurn; 
are  different).  The  best  writers  could  not  decide  between  these 
conflicting  forms.  A  still  greater  fluctuation  existed  in  English 
spelling  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,1  but  it  has 
since  been  overcome.  Great  writers  sometimes  introduced  spellings 
of  their  own.  Caesar  wrote  Pompeiii  (gen.  sing.)  for  Pompeii,  after 
the  Oscan  manner.  He  also  brought  the  superlative  simus  into  use. 
Augustus,  following  in  his  steps,  paid  great  attention  to  ortho- 
graphy. His  inscriptions  are  a  valuable  source  of  evidence  for 
ascertaining  the  correctest  spelling  of  the  time.  During  and  after 
the  time  of  Claudius  affected  archaisms  (  crept  in,  and  the  value 
both  of  inscriptions  and  MSS.  is  impaired,  on  the  one  hand,  by 
the  pedantic  endeavour  to  bring  spelling  into  accord  with  archaic 
use  or  etymology,  and,  on  the  other,  by  the  increasing  frequency 
of  debased  and  provincial  forms,  which  find  place  even  in 
authoritative  documents.  In  spite  of  the  obscurity  of  the  subject 
several  principles  of  orthography  have  been  definitely  established, 
especially  with  regard  to  the  older  Latin,  which  will  guide  future 
editors.  And  the  labours  of  Eitschl,  Corssen,  and  many  others, 
cannot  fail  to  bring  to  light  the  most  important  laws  of  variability 
which  have  affected  the  spelling  of  Latin  words,  so  far  as  the 
variation  has  not  depended  on  mere  caprice.2 

With  these  preliminary  remarks  we  may  turn  to  the  cbief 
monuments  of  the  old  language,  the  difficulties  and  uncertainties 
of  which  have  been  greatly  diminished  by  recent  research.  They 
are  partly  inscriptions  (for  the  oldest  period  exclusively  so),  and 

1  This  subject  is  well  illustrated  in  the  introduction  to  Masson's  ed.  oi 
Todd's  Milton. 

8  The  reader  should  consult  the  introduction  to  Notes  I.  in  Mum^'i 
Lucretius 


14  HISTORY  OF  ROM  AX  LITERATURE. 

partly  public  documents,  preserved  in  the  pages  of  antiquarian* 

Much  may  be  learnt  from  the  study  of  coins,  which,  though  less 

aucient  than  some  of  the  written  literature,  are  often  more  archaio 

in  their  forms.     The  earliest  of  the  existing  remains  is  the  song  of 

the  Arval  Brothers,  an  old  rustic  priesthood  {qui  sacra  puhlica 

faciunt  propterea  id  frw/es  ferant  arva),1  dating  from  the  times 

of  the  kings.     This  fragment  was  discovered  at  Borne  in  1778,  on 

a  tablet   containing  the   acts   of  the   sacred   college,    and   was 

supposed  to  be  as  ancient  as  Romulus.     The  priesthood  was  a 

highly  honourable  office,  its  members  were  chosen  for  life,  and 

emperors  are  mentioned  among  them.     The  yearly  festival  took 

place  in  May,  when  the  fruits  were  ripe,  and  consisted  in  a  kind 

of  blessing  of  the  first-fruits.     The  minute  and  primitive  ritual 

was  evidently  preserved  from  very  ancient  times,  and  the  hymn, 

though  it  has  suffered  in  transliteration,  is  a  good  specimen  of 

early   Roman  worship,   the  rubrical  directions  to  the   brethren 

being  inseparably  united  with  the  invocation  to  the  Lares  and  Mar* 

According  to  Moinmsen's  division  of  the  lines,  the  words  are — 

Enos,  Lases,  iuvate,  \ter 

Neve  ltje  rue,  Marmar,  sins  (v.  sers)  incurrere  in  pleores.  {ter) 

Satur  fu,  fere  Mars.     Limen  sali.     Sta.    Berber,  {ter) 

Semunis  alternei  advocapit  conctos.  {ter) 

Enos,  Marmor,  iuvato  .  {ter) 

Triumpe  .  {Quinquies) 

The  great  difference  between  this  rude  dialect  and  classical  Latin 
is  easily  seen,  and  we  can  well  imagine  that  this  and  the  Salian 
hymn  of  Numa  were  all  but  unintelligible  to  those  who  recited 
them.2  The  most  probable  rendering  is  as  follows  : — "  Help  us, 
O  Lares  !  and  thou,  Marmar,  suffer  not  plague  and  ruin  to  attack 
our  folk.  Be  satiate,  0  fierce  Mars  !  Leap  over  the  threshold. 
Halt !  Now  beat  the  ground.  Call  in  alternate  strain  upon  all 
the  heroes.  Help  us,  Maimer.  Bound  high  in  solemn  measure. " 
Each  line  was  repeated  thrice,  the  last  word  five  times. 

As  regards  the  separate  words,  enos,  which  should  perhaps  be 
written  e  nos,  contains  the  interjectional  e,  which  elsewhere 
coalesces  with  vocatives.3  Lases  is  the  older  form  of  Larex.  Lue 
rue  =  Juem  rucm,  the  last  an  old  word  for  ruinam,  with  the  case- 
ending  lost,  as  frequently,  and  the  copula  omitted,  as  in  Patres 
Coitscripti,  &c.  Maiinar,  Marmor,  or  Mamor,  is  the  reduplicated 
form  of  Mars,  seen  in  the  Sabine  Mame.rs.  Sins  is  for  sines,  as 
advocapit  for  advocabitis.*  Pleores  is  an  ancient  form  of  plures, 
answering  to  the  Greek  7rAetovas  in  form,  and  to  tovs  7roAAov5, 
M  the  mass  of  the  people "  in  meaning.     Fu  is  a  shortened  im« 

1  Var.  L.  L.  v.  85.  *  Hor.  Ep.  ii.  1,  86.  •  E.g.  edepol,  ecastor 

4  Prob.  an  old  optative,  afterwards  uied  as  a  fut. 


THE  EARLIEST  EEMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.         1 5 

perative.1  Berber  is  for  verb  ere,  imper.  of  the  old  verbero,  is,  aa 
triumpe  from  triunpere  — triumphal  e.  Semunes  from  semo  (se- 
homo  "  apart  from  man ")  an  inferior  deity,  as  we  see  from  the 
Sabine  Semo  Sancus  ( =  Dius  Fidius).  Much  of  this  interpretation 
is  conjectural,  and  other  views  have  been  advanced  with  regard 
to  nearly  every  word,  but  the  above  given  is  the  most  probable. 

The  next  fragment  is  from  the  Salian  hymn,  quoted  by  Varro.2 
It  appears  to  be  incomplete.     The  words  are  : 

"  Cozeul^doizeso.  Omnia  vero  adpatula  coemisse  iamcnsianes  duo  mis* 
ceruses  dun  ianusve  vet  pos  melios  eum  recura  .  .  . ,"  and  a  little  farther  on. 
"  divum  jmpta  cante,  divuin  deo  supplicante.* 

The  most  probable  transcription  is : 

"  Cliorauloe Jus  ero  ;  Omnia  vero  adpatula  concepere  Iani  curiones. 
Bonus  creator  es.  Bonus  Janus  vivit,  quo  meliorem  regum  [terra  Saturnia 
vidit  nullum] ;  and  of  the  second, "  Deorum  impetu  canite,  deorum  deum  sup- 
pliciter  canite." 

Here  we  observe  the  ancient  letter  z  standing  for  s  and  that  for 
»,  also  the  word  cents  masc.  of  ceres,  connected  with  the  root 
creare.  Adpatula  seems  =  clara.  Other  quotations  from  the 
Salian  hymns  occur  in  Festus  and  other  late  writers,  but  they  are 
not  considerable  enough  to  justify  our  dwelling  upon  them.  All  of 
them  will  be  found  in  Wordsworth's  Fragments  and  Specimens 
of  early  Latin. 

There  are  several  fragments  of  laws  said  to  belong  to  the  regal 
period,  but  they  have  been  so  modernised  as  to  be  of  but  slight 
value  for  the  purpose  of  philological  illustration.  One  or  two 
primitive  forms,  however,  remain.  In  a  law  of  Eomulus,  we  read 
Si  nurus  . .  .  plorassit .  .  .  sacra  divis  parentum  estod,  where  the 
full  form  of  the  imperative  occurs,  the  only  instance  in  the  whole 
range  of  the  language.3  A  somewhat  similar  law,  attributed  to 
Numa,  contains  some  interesting  forms  : 

u  Si  parentem  puer  verberit  ast  ole  plorasit,  puer  divis  parentum 

verberat  ?     ille  ploraverit        diis 
sacer  esto." 

Much  more  interesting  are  the  scanty  remains  of  the  Laws  of 
the  Twelve  Tables  (451,  450  B.C.).  It  is  true  we  do  not  possess 
the  text  in  its  original  form.  The  great  destruction  of  monuments 
by  the  Gauls  probably  extended  to  these  important  witnesses  of 
national  progress.  Livy,  indeed,  tells  us  that  they  were  recovered, 
but  it  was  probably  a  copy  that  was  found,  and  not  the  original 

»  Cf.  die.  fer.  *  L.  L.  vii.  26,  27. 

8  Oscan  estud.  This  is  one  of  several  points  in  which  the  oldest  Latin 
approximates  to  the  other  Italian  dialects,  from  which  it  gradually  became 
more  divergent.    Cf.  paricidas  (Law  ot  Numa)  nom.  sing,  with  Osc.  Marat 


16  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

brass  tables,  since  we  never  hear  of  these  latter  being  suba^qaentlj 
exhibited  in  the  sight  of  the  people.  Their  style  is  bold  and  often 
obscure,  owing  to  the  omission  of  distinctive  pronouns,  though 
doubtless  this  obscurity  would  be  greatly  lessened  if  we  had  the 
entire  text.  Connecting  particles  are  also  frequently  omitted, 
and  the  interdependence  of  the  moods  is  less  developed  than  in 
any  extant  literary  Latin.  For  instance,  the  imperative  mood  ia 
used  in  all  cases,  permissive  as  well  as  jussive,  Si  nolet  arceram 
ne  sternito,  "  If  he  does  not  choose,  he  need  not  procure  a  covered 
car."  The  subjunctive  is  never  used  even  in  conditionals,  but 
only  in  final  clauses.  Those  which  seem  to  be  subjunctives  are 
either  present  indicatives  (e.g.  escit.  vindicit)  or  second  futures  (e.g, 
faxit.  rupsit.).  The  ablative  absolute,  so  strongly  characteristic  of 
classical  Latin,  is  never  found,  or  only  in  one  doubtful  instance. 
The  word  igitur  occurs  frequently  in  the  sense  of  "  after  that," 
"in  that  case,"  a  meaning  which  it  has  almost  lost  in  the  literary 
dialect.  Some  portion  of  each  Table  is  extant  We  subjoin  an 
extract  from  the  first 

•*1.  Si  inius  vocat,  ito.    Niit,  antestamino  :  igitur  em  capito.    Si  calvitur 

antestetur        postea  euni  frustratur 

pederave  strait,  manum  endo  iacito 

iniicito 

2.  Rem  ubi  pacunt  orato.     Ni  pacunt,  in  comitio  aut  in  foro  ante 

pagunt  (cf.  pacisci) 

meridiem  caussam  coiciunto.     Com  peroranto  ambo  praesentes. 

Una 

Post  meridiem  praesenti  litem  addicito.     Si  ambo  praesentes,  Sol  occasus 
suprema  tempestas  esto." 

The  difference  between  these  fragments  and  the  Latin  of  Plautus 
is  really  inconsiderable.  But  we  have  the  testimony  of  Polybius1 
with  regard  to  a  treaty  between  Eome  and  Carthage  formed  soon 
after  the  Regifugium  (509  b.c),  and  therefore  not  much 
anterior  to  the  Pecemvirs,  that  the  most  learned  Romans  could 
scarcely  understand  it.  We  should  infer  from  this  that  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Twelve  Tables,  from  being  continually  quoted  to 
meet  the  exigencies  of  public  life,  was  unconsciously  moulded 
into  a  form  intelligible  to  educated  men ;  and  that  this  process 
continued  until  the  time  when  literary  activity  commenced.  After 
that  it  remained  untouched ;  and,  in  fact,  the  main  portion  of  the 
laws  as  now  preserved  shows  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  Latin  of 
the  age  of  Livius,  who  introduced  the  written  literature. 

1  Pol.  iii.  22.     Polybius  lived  in  the  time  of  the  younger  Scipio ;  but 
the  antiquity  of  this  treaty  ha*  recently  been  impugned. 


iHE  EARLIEST  REMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.         17 

The  next  specimen  will  be  the  Columna  Rostmta*  or  Column 

of  Duillius.     The  original  monument  was  erected  to  commemorate 

his  naval  victory  over  the  Carthaginians,  260  B.C.,  but  that  which 

at  present  exists  is  a  restoration  of  the  time  of  Claudius.     It  has, 

however,  been  somewhat  carelessly  done,  for  several  modernisms 

have  crept  into  the  language.     But  these  are  not  sufficient  to 

disprove  its  claim  to  be  a  true  restoration  of  an  ancient  monument. 

To  consider  it  a  forgery  is  to  disregard  entirely  the  judgment  of 

Quintilian,1  who  takes  its  genuineness  for  granted.     It  is  in  place? 

imperfect— 

"  Secestanosque  .  .  .  opsidioned  exemet,  lecionesque  Cartaciniensis  omnia 
maxiuiosque  macishatos  luci   palam  post  dies  novem  castreis  exfoeiunt, 
magistrates  eilugiunt 

Macelamque  opidom  vi  pucnandod  cepet.  En  que  eodem  macistratud  bene 
rem  navebos  niarid  eonsol  primos  ceset,  copiasque  clasesque  navales  primos 

gessit 

ornavet  paravetque.  Cumque  eis  navebous  claseis  Poenicas  omnis,  item 
maxumas  copias  Cartaciniensis,  praesented   Hanibaled  dictatored  olorom, 

illo-tum 
inaltod  marid  pucnandod  yicet.  Vique  navis  cepet  cum  socieis  septeresmom 
in  alto  septiremem 

unam,  quinqueresmosque  tiiresmosque  naveis  xxx :  merset  xiii.     Aurom 

mersit 

captom  numei  (DO(D  DCC.  arcentom  captom  praeda  :  numei  CCCIqoq 
CCCIqoo.  Omne  captom,  aes  CCCIqqq  (plus  vicies  semel).  Primos 
quoque  navaled  praedad  poplom  donavet  primosque  Cartaciniensis  incenuoa 

ingenuos 
duxit  in  trinmpod." 

We  notice  here  C  for  G,  ET  for  IT,  0  for  V  on  the  one  hand : 
on  the  other,  praeda  where  we  should  expect  praida,  besides  the 
inconsistencies  alluded  to  on  p.  13. 

The  Mausoleum  of  the  Scipios  containing  the  epitaphs  was  dis- 
covered in  1780.  The  first  of  these  inscriptions  dates  from  280 
b.c.  or  twenty  years  earlier  than  the  Columna  Rostrata,  and  is 
the  earliest  original  Roman  philological  antiquity  of  assignable 
date  whioh  we  possess.  But  the  other  epitaphs  on  the  Scipios 
advance  to  a  later  period,  and  it  is  convenient  to  arrange  them 
all  together.     The  earliest  runs  thus  : — 

"  Cornelius  Lucius,  |  Scipio  Barbatus, 
Gnaivod  patre  prognatus  |  fortis  vir  sapiensque, 
quoius  forma  virtu  j  tei  pari'suma  fuit,2 
eonsol  censor  aidilis  |  quei  fuit  apiid  vos, 
Taurasia  Cisauna  |  Samni6  cepit 
subigit  omne  Loucanam  |  opsidesque  atdoucit.,• 

1  Inst.  Or.  i.  7,  12. 

8  Or,  accentuating  differently,  "quoius  forma  virtutei  |  parisnmi  ftlit. 
We  notice  the  st'ange  quantity  Lucius,  which  recalls  the  Homeric  virepoTr\tn 

B 


13  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

The  next,  the  title  of  which  is  painted  and  the  epitaph  graveiij 

refers  to  the  son  of  Barbatus.     Like  the  preceding,  it  is  written  in 

Satuxnian  verse : 

"  Hone  oino  plofrume  co  |  sentiont  Romii 
duonoro  optumo  fu  |  ise  viro  viroro 
Luciom  Scipioue.  |  Filios  Barbati 
consol  censor  aidilis  |  hie  fuet  apdd  vos 
hec  cepit  Corsica  'Aleri  |  aque  urbe  pugnandod, 
dedet  Tempestatebus  |  aide  meretod  votam." 

The  more  archaic  character  of  this  inscription  suggests  the 

explanation  that  the  first  was  originally  painted,  and  not  engraven 

till  a  later  period,  when,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Columna  Eostrata, 

some  of  its  archaisms  (probably   the   more   unintelligible)  were 

suppressed.     In  ordinary  Latin  it  would  be  : 

"  Hunc  unum  plurimi  consentiunt  Romani  (or  Romae)  bonorum  optimum 
fuisse  virum  virorum,  Lucium  Scipionem.  Films  (erat)  Barbati,  Consul, 
Censor.  Aedilis  hie  fuit  apud  vos.  Hie  cepit  Corsicam  Aleriamque  urbem 
pugnando  ;  dedit  tempestatibus  aedem  merito  votam." 

The  third  epitaph  is  on  P.  Corn.  Scipio,  probably  son  of  the  great 

Africanus,  and  adopted  father  of  Scipio  Aemilianus  :— 

•'  Quei  apice  insigne  dialis  |  flaminfs  gesistei 
mors  pei  fecit  tua  ut  essent  |  omnia  br^via 
honos  fama  virtiisque  |  gl6ria  atque  ingenium: 
quibus  sei  in  lon^a  licui  |  set  tibi  litier  vita 
facile  faetis  supeiasses  |  gloriam  maiorum. 
quare  lubens  te  in  gremiu  |  Scipio  recijtit 
terra,  Publi,  prognatum  I  Publio  Cornell." 

The  last  which  will  be  quoted  here  is  that  of  L.  Corn.  Scipio^ 

of  uncertain  date : 

"  Magna  sapientia  mul  |  tasque  virtutes 
jietate  quoin  parva  |  possidet  hoc  saxsum, 
quoiei  vita  defecit  !  non  honos  hon6re. 
Is  hie  situs,  qui  nunquam  |  victu3  est  virtiiteL 
Annos  gnatus  viginti  |  is  Diteist  mandatus, 
ne  quairatis  honore  |  quei  minus  sit  mandatus." 

These  last  two  are  written  in  clear,  intelligible  Latin,  the  former 
showing  in  addition  a  genuine  literary  inspiration.  Nevertheless, 
the  student  will  perceive  many  signs  of  antiquity  in  the  omission 
of  the  cas3-ending  m,  in  the  spellings  gesistei,  quom  (  =  cum.  prep.) 
in  the  old  long  quantities  omnia  fama  facile  and  the  unique 
quairatis.  There  are  no  less  than  five  other  inscriptions  in  the 
Mausoleum,  one  of  which  concludes  with  four  elegiac  lines,  but 
they  can  hardly  be  cited  with  justice  among  the  memorials  of  the 
old  language, 

The  Senatus  Consultum  de  Bacclianalibus,  or,  as  some  scholar! 
prefer  to  call  it,  Epistola  Consulum  ad  Teuranos  (186  b.c),  found 
%%  Terra  di  Teriolo,  in  Calabria,  in  1640,  ia  quite  in  its  origina 


THE  EARLIEST  REMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.         1& 

state.  It  is  easily  intelligible,  and  except  in  ori  hography,  scarcely 
differs  from  classical  Latin.  We  subjoin  it  entire,  as  it  is  a  very 
complete  and  important  specimen  of  the  language,  and  with  it  we 
6hall  close  our  list : — 

"1.  Q.  Marcius  L.  f.  S(p)  Postumius  L.  f.  cos  senatum  consoluerunt  n.  Oct 
2.  ob.  apud  aedem  |  Duelonai.  Sc.  arf.  M.  Claud  i(us)  M.  f. 

Bellonae    Scribendo  adfuerunt 

L.  Valeri(us)  P.  f.  Q.  Minuci(us)  C.  f. — 
8.  De  Bacanalibus  quei  foideratei  |  esent  ita  exdeicendum  censuere. 

4.  Neiquis  eorum  Bacanal  habuise  velet.    Sei  ques  |  esent  quei 

vellet  Si     qui 

sibei  deicerent  necesus  ese  Bacanal  habere,  eeis  utei 

5.  ad  pr(aetorem)  urbanum  |  Romam  venirent  deque  eeis  rebus, 

6.  ubei  eorum  verba  audita  esent,  utei  senatus  J  noster  deeerneret,  dum  ha 

minus  Senatorbus  C  adesent,     quom  ea 

adessent 

7.  res  cosoleretur  |  Bacas  vir  nequis  adiese  velet  ceivis  Roma- 

8.  nus  neve  nominus  Latini  neve  socium  |  quisquam,  nisei 
pr\aetorem)  urbanum  adiesenr,  isque  de  senatuos  sententiad, 

adiissent 

0.  dum  ne  |  minus  Senatoribus  C  adesent,  quom  ea  res  cosoleretur,  iousiset. 
Censuere.  | 

*0.  Sacerdos  nequis  vir  eset.     Magister  neque  vir  neque  mnlier 

11.  quisquam  eset.  |  Neve  pecuniam  quisquam  eorum  comoinem     ha- 

communem 

12.  buise  velet,  neve  magistratum  |  neve  pro  magistratud,  neque 

13.  virum  neque  mulierem  quiquam  fecise  velet.  J  Neve  posthac  inter  setf 

coniourase 

14.  neve  comvovise  neve  conspondise  |  neve  compromesise  velet,  neve  quis- 

15.  quam  fidem  inter  sed  dedise  velet  J  Sacra  in  oquoltod  ne  quisquam 

occulto 

16.  fecise  velet,  neve  in  poplicod  neve  in  |  preivatod  neve  exstrad  urbem 

17.  sacra  quisquam  fecise  velet, — nisei  |  pr(aetorem)  urbanum  adieset  isque 

18.  de  senatuos  sententiad,  dum  ne  minus  |  senatoribus  C  adesent,    uom  ea 

res  cosoleretur,  iousiset.     Censuere. 

19.  Homines  pious  V  oinvorsei  virei  atque  mulieres  sacra  ne  quisquam  | 

universi 

20.  fecise  velet,  neve  inter  ibei  virei  pious  duobus  mulieribus  pious  tri- 

21.  bus  |  arfuise  velent,  nisei  de  pr(aetoris)  urbani  senatuosque  sententiad, 

22.  utei  suprad  |  scriptum  est. 

23.  Haice  utei  in  coventionid  exdeicatis  ne  minus  trinum  |  noundinum 

contione 

24.  senatuosque  sententiam  utei  scientes  esetis—  eorum  |  sententia  ita  fait : 

25.  Sei  ques  esent,  quei  arvorsum  ead  fecisent,  quam  suprad  |  scriptum 

adversum  ea 

26.  est,  eeis  rem  caputalem  faciendam  censuere — atque  utei  |  hoce  in 

37.  tabolam  ahenara  inceideretis,  ita  senatus  aiquom  censuit ;  j  uteique  eaia 

sequum 


20  HISTOKY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

28  figier  ioubeatis  ubei  facilumod  gnoscier  potisit; — atque  |  ntei  ea  Ba- 

29  can 'Ha,  sei  qua  sunt,   exstmd  quani  sei  quid  ibei  sacri  est  |  ita  utd 

suprad  scrip  turn  est,  in  diebus  x  .  quibus  vobis  tabelai  datai 
80    erunt,  |  faciatis  utei  dismota  sieut — iu  agro  Teurano." 

Tauriano 

We  notice  that  there  are  in  this  decree  no  doubled  consonants, 
no  ablatives  without  the  final  d  (except  the  two  last  words,  which 
are  probably  by  a  later  hand),  and  few  instances  of  ae  or  i  for  the 
older  ai,  ei ;  ol  and  ou  stand  as  a  rule  for  oe,  v  ;  ques,  eeisy  for 
gut\  ii.  On  the  other  hand  us  has  taken  the  place  of  os  as  the 
termination  of  Romanus,  Postumius,  &c,  and  generally  u  is  put 
instead  of  the  older  o.  The  peculiarities  of  Latin  syntax  are  here 
fully  developed,  and  the  language  has  become  what  we  call 
classical.  At  this  point  literature  commences,  and  a  long  succes- 
sion of  authors  from  Plautus  onwards  carry  the  history  of  the 
language  to  its  completion ;  but  it  should  be  remembered  that 
lew  of  these  authors  wrote  in  what  was  really  the  speech  of  the 
people.  In  most  cases  a  literature  would  be  the  best  criterion  of 
a  language.  In  Latin  it  is  otherwise.  The  popular  speech  could 
never  have  risen  to  the  complexity  of  the  language  of  Cicero  and 
Sallust.  This  was  an  artificial  tongue,  based  indeed  on  the 
colloquial  idiom,  but  admitting  many  elements  borrowed  from  the 
Greek.  If  we  compare  the  language  and  syntax  of  Plautus,  who 
was  a  genuine  popular  writer,  with  that  of  Cicero  in  his  more 
difficult  orations,  the  difference  will  at  once  be  felt.  And  after 
the  natural  development  of  classical  Latin  was  arrested  (as  it 
already  was  in  the  time  of  Augustus),  the  interval  between  the 
colloquial  and  literary  dialects  became  more  and  more  wide.  The 
speeches  of  Cicero  could  never  have  been  unintelligible  even  to 
the  lowest  section  of  the  city  crowd,  but  in  the  third  and  fourth 
centuries  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  common  people  understood 
at  all  the  artificially  preserved  dialect  to  which  literature  still 
adhered.  Unfortunately  our  materials  for  tracing  the  gradual 
decline  of  the  spoken  language  are  scanty.  The  researches  of 
Mommsen,  Eitschl,  and  others,  have  added  considerably  to  their 
number.  And  from  these  we  see  that  the  old  language  of  the 
early  inscriptions  was  subjected  to  a  twofold  process  of  growth. 
On  the  one  hand,  it  expanded  into  the  literary  dialect  under  the 
hands  of  the  Graecising  aristocracy;  on  the  other,  it  ran  its  course 
as  a  popular  idiom,  little  affected  by  the  higher  culture  for  several 
centuries  until,  after  the  decay  of  classical  Latin,  it  reappears  in 
the  fifth  century,  strikingly  reminding  us  in  many  points  of  the 
earliest  infancy  of  the  language.  The  lingua  plebeia,  vulgaris,  oi 
*ustica}  corrupted  !>y  the  Gothic  invasions,  and  by  the  native 


THE  EARLIEST  REMAINS  OF  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.        21 

languages  of  the  other  parts  of  the  empire  which  it  only  partially 
supplanted,  became  eventually  distinguished  from  the  Lingua 
Latino,  (which  was  at  length  cultivated,  even  by  the  learned, 
only  in  writing,)  by  the  name  of  Lingua  Romana.  It  accord- 
ingly differed  in  different  countries.  The  purest  specimens  of  the 
old  Lingua  Romana  are  supposed  to  exist  in  the  mountains  of 
Sardinia  and  in  the  country  of  the  Grisons  In  these  dialects 
many  of  the  most  ancient  formations  were  preserved,  which, 
repudiated  by  the  classical  Latin,  have  reappeared  in  the  Romance 
languages,  bearing  testimony  to  the  inherent  vitality  of  native 
idiom,  even  when  left  to  work  out  its  own  development  unaided 
by  literature. 


APPENDIX. 

Examples  of  the  corrupted  dialect  of  the  fifth  and  following 

centuries.1 


1.  An  epitaph  of  the  fifth  century. 

omine        stip.     me  posuerit  .  An»- 
hominem  super 

tema  'abeas    da    trecenti    decern   et 

habeas  de    treuentis 
octo      patriarche       qui       chanones 
patriarchis  canones 

esposuerunt    et  da     s  ca       *Xpi 
exposuerunt  saactis   Cliristi 

quatuor  Eugvangelia'* 
Evaneeliis 


"Hie  requiescit  in  pace  domna 

domina 

Bonusa  qnix  ami.  xxxxxx  et  Domo 
quae  vixit  Domino 


Menna    quixitannos     . 
qui  vixit  annos 


Eabeat 
Habeat 


anatema     s  Juda   si  quis   alteram 
anathema 


2.  An  instrument  written  in  Spain  under  the  government  of 
the  Moors  in  the  year  742,  a  fragment  of  which  is  taken  from 
Lanzi.  The  whole  is  given  by  P.  Du  Mesnil  in  his  work  on  the 
doctrine  of  the  Church. 


"  Non    faciant    suas    missas   nisi 
portis  cerratis  :  sin  peiter 

seratis  (minus)  pendant 

decern  pesantes  argenti.    Monasterie 
nummos  Monasteriae 


quae  sunt  in  eo  mando  . 


faciunt 
faciant 


Saracenis  bona  acolhcnsa  sine  vexa* 
vectigalia  ? 

tione    neque    forcia:    vendant    sine 
vi 

peclio    tali  pacto  quod  non  vadant 

tribute 

foras  de  nostras  terras.** 
nostris  terris 


1  From  Thompson's  Essay  on  the  Sources  and  Formation  of  the  Lattik 
language;  Hist,  of  Reman  Literature  ;  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana. 


22 


HISTOliY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 


3,  Tlte  following  is  the  oath  of 
Germany,  in  842  a.d 


fealty  taken  by  Lewis,  King  of 


'*  Pro  Deo  aranr  et  pro  Christian 
Dei  amore  Christiano 

poble    fit  nostro  comun      salvament 
populo       nostra  communi  salute 

dist         di     enavant       in  quant 
tie  isto  die  in  posterum    quantum 

Dis    saver  etpodir  me  dunat:  si 
Deus  scire      posse      donet :  sic  (me) 

salverat  eo  cist  meon  fradre  Karlo 
servet      ei  isti  meo     fratri    Carolo 

et  in     adjudha     et  in  cadhuna 

adjumcnto  qualicunque 

©osa        si       cum  om        per 

cau&sa     oie     quomodo     homo    per 


dreit  son  fradra  salvar 

rectum    (=jnre)  suo   fratri    sal  vara 

distino:  quidil    mi        altre 
destino :  quod  il  le  mihi  ex  altera  (parted 

si     fazet ;    et  abludher         nul 
sic   faciet ;        ab  Lothario   nullum 

plaid  nunquam  prendrai,    qui 

consilium  unquam    accipiam,   quod 

meon    vol  cist    meon    fradrt 

mea      voluntate    isti    meo     fratri 

Karlo    in  damno     siL" 
Carolo        iflTi^nm 


CHAPTER  TL 

On  the  Beginnings  op  Roman  LrTERATtmR 

Mommsbn  has  truly  remarked  that  the  culminating  point  of 
.Roman  development  was  the  period  which  had  no  literature. 
Had  the  Roman  people  continued  to  move  in  the  same  lines  as 
they  did  before  coming  in  contact  with  the  works  of  Greek 
genius,  it  is  possible  that  they  might  have  long  remained  without 
ct  literature.  Or  if  they  had  wrought  one  out  for  themselves,  it 
would  no  doubt  have  been  very  different  from  that  which  has 
come  down  to  us.  As  it  is,  Roman  literature  forms  a  feature  in 
human  history  quite  without  a  parallel  We  see  a  nation  rich  in 
patriotic  feeling,  in  heroe3  legendary  and  historical,  advancing 
step  by  step  to  the  fullest  solution  then  known  to  the  world  of 
the  great  problems  of  law  and  government,  and  finally  rising  by 
its  virtues  to  the  proud  position  of  mistress  of  the  nations,  which  . 
yet  had  never  found  nor,  apparently,  even  wanted,  any  intellectual 
expression  of  its  life  and  growth,  whether  in  the  poet's  inspired 
gong  or  in  the  sober  narrative  of  the  historian. 

The  cause  of  this  striking  deficiency  is  to  be  sought  in  the 
original  characteristics  of  the  Latin  race.  The  Latin  character,  as 
distinguished  from  the  Greek,  was  eminently  practical  and 
unimaginative.  It  was  marked  by  good  sense,  not  by  luxuriant 
fancy  :  it  was  "  natum  rebus  agendis."  The  acute  intellect  of  the 
Romans,  directing  itself  from  the  first  to  questions  of  wai  and 
politics,  obtained  such  a  clear  and  comprehensive  grasp  of  legal 
and  political  rights  as,  united  with  an  unwavering  tenacity  of 
purpose,  made  them  able  to  administer  with  profound  intelligence 
their  vast  and  heterogeneous  empire.  But  in  the  meantime 
reflective  thought  had  received  no  impulse. 

The  stern  and  somevhat  narrow  training  which  was  the  inheri- 
tance of  the  governing  class  necessarily  confined  their  minds  to 
the  hard  realities  of  life.  Whatever  poetical  capacity  the  Romans 
may  once  have  had  was  thus  effectually  checked.  Those  aspira- 
tions after  an  ideal  beauty  which  most  nations  that  have  becomt 


24  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

great  have  embodied  in  "  immortal  verse  " — if  they  ever  existed 
in  Rome — faded  away  before  her  greatness  reached  its  meridian, 
only  to  be  rekindled  into  a  shadowy  and  reflected  brightness 
when  Rome  herself  had  begun  to  decay. 

There  is  nothing  that  so  powerfully  influences  literature  as  the 
national  religion.  Poetry,  with  which  in  all  ages  literature  begins, 
awes  its  impulse  to  the  creations  of  the  religious  imagination 
Such  at  least  has  been  the  case  with  those  Aryan  races  who  have 
been  most  largely  endowed  with  the  poetical  gift.  The  religion 
of  the  Roman  diifered  from  that  of  the  Greek  in  having  no  back 
ground  of  mythological  fiction  For  him  there  was  no  Olympus 
with  its  half-human  denizens,  no  nymph-haunted  fountain,  no 
deified  heroes,  no  lore  of  sacred  bard  to  raise  his  thoughts  into  the 
realm  of  the  ideal.  His  religion  was  cold  and  formal.  Consisting 
partly  of  minute  and  tedious  ceremonies,  partly  of  transparent 
allegories  whereby  the  abstractions  of  daily  life  were  clothed  with 
the  names  of  gods,  it  possessed  no  power  over  his  inner  being. 
Conceptions  such  as  Sowing  (Saturnus),  War  (Bellona),  Boundary 
(Terminus),  Faithfulness  (Fides),  much  as  they  might  influence 
the  moral  and  social  feelings,  could  not  be  expanded  into  material 
for  poetical  inventions.  And  these  and  similar  deities  were  tho 
objects  of  his  deepest  reverence.  The  few  traces  that  remained  of 
the  ancient  nature-worship,  unrelated  to  one  another,  lost  their 
power  of  producing  mythology.  The  Capitoline  Jupiter  never 
stood  to  the  Romans  in  a  true  personal  relation  Neither  Mars 
nor  Hercules  (who  were  genuine  Italian  gods)  was  to  Rome  what 
Apollo  was  to  Greece.  Whatever  poetic  sentiment  was  felt 
centred  rather  in  the  city  herself  than  in  the  deities  who  guarded 
her.  Rome  was  the  one  name  that  roused  enthusiasm ;  from  first 
to  last  she  was  the  true  Supreme  Deity,  and  her  material  aggran- . 
disement  was  the  never-exhausted  theme  of  literary,  as  it  had 
been  the  consistent  goal  of  practical,  effort. 

The  primitive  culture  of  Latium,  in  spite  of  all  that  has  been 
written  about  it,  is  still  so  little  known,  that  it  is  hard  to  say 
whether  there  existed  elements  out  of  which  a  native  art  and 
literature  might  have  been  matured.  But  it  is  the  opinion  of  the 
highest  authorities  that  such  elements  did  exist,  though  they 
never  bore  fruit.  The  yearly  Roman  festival  with  its  solemn 
dance,1  the  masquerades  in  the  popular  carnival,2  and  the  primi- 
tive lif.mies,  afforded  a  basis  for  poetical  growth  almost  identical 
with  that  which  bore  such  rich  fruit  in  Greece.  It  has  been 
remarked  that  dancing  formed  a  more  important  part  of  thesi 

1  The  Ludi  Romani,  as  they  were  afterwards  called.  *  Satura. 


TiiE  BEGINNINGS  OF  KOxMAN  LITERATURE.  25 

ceremonies  than  song.  This  must  originally  have  been  the  case  in 
Greece  also,  as  it  is  still  in  all  primitive  stages  of  culture.  But 
whereas  in  Greece  the  artistic  cultivation  of  the  bcdy  preceded  I 
and  led  up  to  the  higher  conceptions  of  pure  art,  in  Rome  the 
neglect  of  the  former  may  have  had  some  influence  in  repressing 
the  existence  of  the  latter. 

If  the  Romans  had  the  germ  of  dramatic  art  in  their  yearly 
festivals,  they  had  the  germ  of  the  epos  in  their  lays  upon  distin- 
guished warriors.  But  the  heroic  ballad  never  assumed  the  lofty 
proportions  of  its  sister  in  Greece.  Given  up  to  women  and  boys 
it  abdicated  its  claim  to  widespread  influence,  and  remained  as  it 
had  begun,  strictly  "gentile."  The  theory  that  in  a  complete 
state  place  should  be  found  for  the  thinker  and  the  poet  as  well 
as  for  the  warrior  and  legislator,  was  unknown  to  ancient  Rome. 
Her  whole  development  was  based  on  the  negation  of  this  theory. 
It  was  only  when  she  could  no  longer  enforce  her  own  ideal  that 
she  admitted  under  the  strongest  protest  the  dignity  of  the  intel- 
lectual calling.  This  will  partly  account  for  her  singular  indiffer- 
ence to  historical  study.  With  many  qualifications  for  founding 
a  great  and  original  historical  school,  with  continuous  written 
records  from  an  early  date,  with  that  personal  experience  of  affairs 
without  which  the  highest  form  of  history  cannot  be  written,  the 
Romans  yet  allowed  the  golden  opportunity  to  pass  unused,  and 
at  last  accepted  a  false  conception  of  history  from  the  contem- 
porary Greeks,  which  irreparably  injured  the  value  of  their  greatest 
historical  monuments.  Had  it  been  customary  for  the  sober- 
minded  men  who  contributed  to  make  Roman  history  for  more 
than  three  centuries,  to  leave  simple  commentaries  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  after  generations,  the  result  would  have  been  of  incalcul- 
able value.  For  that  such  men  were  well  qualified  to  give  an 
exact  account  of  facts  is  beyond  doubt.  But  the  exclusive 
importance  attached  to  active  life  made  them  indifferent  to  such 
'  memorials,  and  they  were  content  with  the  barren  and  meagre 
notices  of  the  pontifical  annals  and  the  yearly  registers  of  magis- 
trates in  the  temple  of  Capitoline  Jupiter. 

These  chronicles  and  registers  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  hymns, 
laws,1  and  formulas  of  various  kinds  on  the  other,  formed  the  only  \ 
written  literature  existing  in  the  times  before  the  Punic  wars. 
Besides  these,   there  were  a  few  speeches,  such  as  that  of  Ap. 
Claudius  Caecus  (280  B.c.)  against  Pyrrhus,  published,  and  it  is 

*  The  early  laws  were  called  "carmina,"  a  term  applied  to  any  set  form 
of  words,  Liv.  i.  25,  Lex  horrendi  carminis.  The  theory  that  all  laws  were 
in  the  Sntuvnian  rhythm  is  not  by  any  means  probable. 


1/ 


26  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

probable  tliat  the  funeral  orations  of  the  great  families  were  tran* 
mitted  either  orally  or  in  writing  from  one  generation  to  another, 
so  as  to  serve  both  as  materials  for  history  and  models  of  style. 

Much  importance  has  been  assigned  by  Mebuhr  and  others  to 
the  ballad  literature  that  clustered  round  the  great  names  of 
Roman  history.  It  is  supposed  to  have  formed  a  body  of  national 
y  poetry,  the  complete  loss  of  which  is  explained  by  the  success  of 
the  anti- national  school  of  Ennius  which  superseded  it.  The  sub- 
jects of  this  poetry  were  the  patriots  and  heroes  of  old  Rome, 
and  the  traditions  of  the  republic  and  the  struggles  between  the 
orders  were  faithfully  reflected  in  it.  Macaulay's  Lays  of  Ancient 
Rome  are  a  brilliant  reconstruction  of  what  he  conceived  to  be 
the  spirit  of  this  early  literature.  It  was  written,  its  supporters 
contend,  in  the  native  Saturnian,  and,  while  strongly  leavened  with 
Greek  ideas,  was  in  no  way  copied  from  Greek  models.  It  was 
not  committed  to  writing,  but  lived  in  the  memory  of  the  people, 
and  may  still  be  found  embedded  in  the  beautiful  legends  which 
adorn  the  earlier  books  of  Livy.  Some  idea  of  its  scope  may  be 
formed  from  the  fragments  that  remain  of  Naevius,  who  was  the 
last  of  the  old  bards,  and  bewailed  at  his  own  death  the  extinction 
of  Roman  poetry.  Select  lays  were  sung  at  banquets  either  by 
youths  of  noble  blood,  or  by  the  family  bard ;  and  if  we  possessed 
these  lays,  we  should  probably  find  in  them  a  fresher  and  more 
genuine  inspiration  than  in  all  the  literature  which  followed. 

This  hypothesis  of  an  early  Roman  epos  analogous  to  the  Homeric 
poems,  but  preserved  in  a  less  coherent  shape,  has  met  with  a  close 
investigation  at  the  hands  of  scholars,  but  is  almost  universally 
regarded  as  "  not  proven."  The  scanty  and  obscure  notices  of  the 
early  poetry  by  no  means  warrant  our  drawing  so  wide  an  infer- 
ence as  the  Niebuhrian  theory  demands.1  All  they  prove  is  that 
the  Roman  aristocracy,  like  that  of  all  other  warlike  peoples, 
listened  to  the  praises  of  their  class  recited  by  minstrels  during 
their  banquets  or  festive  assemblies.  But  so  far  from  the  minstrel 
being  held  in  honour  as  in  Greece  and  among  the  Scandinavian 
tribes,  we  are  expressly  told  that  he  was  in  bad  repute,  being  re- 
garded as  little  better  than  a  vagabond.2     Furthermore,  if  these 

1  The  passages  on  which  this  theory  was  founded  are  chiefly  the  following:— 
M  Cic.  Brut.  xix.  utinain  extareut  ilia  carmina,  quae  multis  saeculis  ante  suam 
aetatem  in  epulis  esse  cantitata  a  singulis  convivis  de  elarorum  virorum  lau- 
dibusin  OrigiTiibus  scriptum  reliquit  Cato."  Cf.  Tusc.  i.  2,  3,  and  'iv.  2,  s.f. 
Varro,  as  quoted  by  Non,  says:  "In  conviviis  pueri  modesti  ut  cantarent 
carmina  antiqua,  in  quibus  laudes  erant  maiorum,  et  assa  voce  et  cum  tibi 
cine."     Horace  alludes  to  the  custom,  Od.  iv.  15,  27,  sqq. 

2  Poeticae  arti  honos  non  erat :  si  qui  in  ea  re  studebat,  aut  sese  ad  cox* 
▼ivia  adplicabat,  grassator  vocabatur  — Cato  ap.  Aul  Oell.  N.A.  xi.  2,  5. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OE  KOMAN  LITERATTJKE.  27 

lays  had  possessed  any  merit,  they  would  hardly  have  sunk  into 
such  complete  oblivion  among  a  people  so  conservative  of  all  that 
was  ancient.  In  the  time  of  Horace  iSTaevius  was  as  well  known  as 
if  he  had  been  a  modern  ;  if,  therefore,  he  was  merely  one,  though 
the  most  illustrious,  of  a  long  series  of  bards,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  his  predecessors  should  have  been  absolutely  unknown.  Cicero, 
indeed,  regrets  the  loss  of  these  rude  lays ;  but  it  is  in  the  charac- 
ter of  an  antiquarian  and  a  patriot  that  he  speaks,  and  not  of  an 
appraiser  of  literary  merit.  The  really  imaginative  and  poetical 
halo  which  invests  the  early  legends  of  Rome  must  not  be  attributed 
to  individual  genius,  but  partly  to  patriotic  impulse  working  among 
a  people  for  whom  their  city  and  her  faithful  defenders  supplied 
the  one  material  for  thought,  and  partly,  no  doubt,  though  we  know 
not  in  what  degree,  to  early  contact  with  the  legends  and  culture 
of  Greece.  The  epitaphs  of  the  first  two  Scipios  are  a  good  cri- 
terion of  the  state  of  literary  acquirement  at  the  time.  They  are 
apparently  uninfluenced  by  Greek  models,  and  certainly  do  not 
present  a  high  standard  either  of  poetical  thought  or  expression. 

The  fact,  also,  that  the  Romans  possessed  no  native  term  for  a 
poet  is  highly  significant.  Poeta,  which  we  find  as  early  as  Nae» 
vius,1  is  Greek  j  and  vates,  which  Zeuss 2  traces  to  a  Celtic  root, 
meant  originally  "  soothsayer,"  not  "  poet."3  Only  in  the  Augustan 
period  docs  it  come  into  prominence  as  the  nobler  term,  denoting 
that  inspiration  which  is  the  gift  of  heaven  and  forms  the  peculiar 
privilege  of  genius.4  The  names  current  among  the  ancient  Romans, 
librariMs,  seriba,  were  of  a  far  less  complimentary  nature,  and 
referred  merely  to  the  mechanical  side  of  the  art.5  These  con- 
siderations all  tend  to  the  conclusion  that  the  true  point  from 
which  to  date  the  beginning  of  Roman  literature  is  that  assigned  by 
Horace,6  viz.  the  interval  between  the  first  and  second  Punic 
wars.  It  was  then  that  the  Romans  first  had  leisure  to  contem- 
plate the  marvellous  results  of  Greek  culture,  revealed  to  them  by 
the  capture  of  Tarentum  (272  b.c),  and  still  more  conspicuously 
by  the  annexation  of  Sicily  in  the  war  with  Carthage.  In  Sicily, 
even  more  than  in  Magna  Graecia,  poetry  and  the  arts  had  a  splen- 
did and  enduring  life.  The  long  line  of  philosophers,  dramatists, 
and  historians  was  hardly  yet  extinct.  Theocritus  was  still  teach- 
ing his  countrymen  the  new  poetry  of  rustic  life,  and  many  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  conquered  provinces  came  to  reside  at  Rome, 

1  In  his  epitaph.  2  See  Mommsen  Hist.  i.  p.  240 

8  It  is  a  term  of  contempt  in  Ennius,  "  quos  olim  Fauni  vatesque  cant 
bant." 
4  Virg.  Eel.  ix.  34.  •  Fest.  p.  333a,  M. 

•  Ep.  a  1,  162. 


28  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  imported  their  arts  and  cultivation  ;  and  from  this  period  the 
history  of  Eoman  poetry  assumes  a  regular  and  connected  form.1 

Besides  the  scantv  traces  of  written  memorials,  there  were 
various  elements  in  Roman  civilisation  which  received  a  speedy 
development  in  the  direction  of  literature  and  science  as  soon  as 
Greek  influence  was  brought  to  hear  on  them.  These  may  be 
divided  into  three  classes,  viz.  rudimentary  dramatic  perfor- 
mances, public  speaking  in  the  senate  and  forum,  and  the  studf 
«  of  jurisprudence. 

The  capacity  of  the  Italian  nations  for  the  drama  is  attested  by 
the  fact  that  three  kinds  of  dramatic  composition  were  cultivated 
in  Rome,  aud  if  we  add  to  these  the  semi-dramatic  Fescenninae,  we 
shall  complete  the  list  of  that  department  of  literature.  This  very 
primitive  type  of  song  took  its  rise  in  Etruria ;  it  derives  its  name 
from  Fescennium,  an  Etrurian  town,  though  others  connect  it  with 
fascinum,  as  if  originally  it  were  an  attempt  to  avert  the  evil 
eye.2  Horace  traces  the  history  of  this  rude  banter  from  its  source 
in  the  harvest  field  to  its  city  developments  of  slander  and  abuse,3 
which  needed  the  restraint  of  the  law.  Livy,  in  his  sketch  of  the 
rise  of  Roman  drama,4  alludes  to  these  verses  as  altogether  un- 
polished, and  for  the  most  part  extemporaneous.  He  agrees  with 
Horace  in  describing  them  as  taking  the  form  of  dialogue  (alternis), 
but  his  account  is  meagre  in  the  extreme.  In  process  of  time  the 
Fescennines  seem  to  have  modified  both  their  form  and  character. 
From  being  in  alternate  strains,  they  admitted  a  treatment  as  if 
uttered  by  a  single  speaker, — so  at  least  we  should  infer  from  Ma- 
crobius's  notice  of  the  Fescennines  sent  by  Augustus  toPollio,5  which 
were  either  lines  of  extempore  raillery,  or  short  biting  epigrams, 
like  that  of  Catullus  on  Vatinius,6  owing  their  title  to  the  name 
solely  to  the  pungency  of  their  contents.  In  a  general  way  they 
were  restricted  to  weddings,  and  we  have  in  the  first  Epithalamium 
of  Catullus,7  and  some  poems  by  Claudian,  highly-refined  specimens 

1  Tt  has  been  argued  from  a  passage  in  Livy  (ix.  36),  "  Habeo  auciora 
mil  go  turn  Romanos  jmeros,  sicut  nunc  Graecis,  ita  Etruscis  Uteris  erudiri 
solitos,"  that  literature  at  Home  must  be  dated  from  the  final  conquest  of 
Etruria  (294  B.C.)  ;  but  the  Romans  had  long  before  this  date  been  familial 
with  Etruscan  literature,  such  as  it  was.  We  have  no  ground  for  supposing 
that  they  borrowed  anything  except  the  art  of  divination,  and  similar  studies. 
Neither  history  nor  dramatic  poetry  was  cultivated  by  the  Etruscans. 

2  Others,  again,  explain  fascinum  a,s  —  <pa\\6s,  and  regard  the  songs  as  con- 
nected with  the  worship  of  the  reproductive  power  in  nature.  This  seems 
alien  from  the  Italian  system  of  worship,  though  likely  enough  to  hava 
sxisted  in  Etruria  If  it  ever  had  this  character,  it  must  have  lost  it  befor* 
its  introduction  into  Rome. 

»  Ep.  ii.  1,  139,  aqq.  4  vii.  2.  •  Kacr.  S.  ii.  4,  21 

•  C.  lit  7  C  Ixi. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  KOMAN  L1TERATUJKE.  29 

of  this  class  of  composition.  The  Fescennines  owed  their  popular- 
ity to  the  light-hearted  temper  of  the  old  Italians,  and  to  a  readi- 
ness at  repartee  which  is  still  conspicuous  at  the  present  day  in 
many  parts  of  Italy. 

With  more  of  the  dramatic  element  than  the  Fescennines,  the 
Saturae  appear  to  have  early  found  a  footing  in  Rome,  though 
their  history  is  difficult  to  trace.  We  gather  from  Livy1  that  they 
were  acted  on  the  stage  as  early  as  359  b.c.  Before  this  the 
boards  had  been  occupied  by  Etruscan  dancers,  and  possibly,  though 
not  certainly,  by  improvisers  of  Fescennine  buffooneries  j  but  soon 
after  this  date  Saturae  were  performed  by  one  or  more  actors  to  the 
lccompaniment  of  the  flute.  The  actors,  it  appears,  sang  as  well 
as  gesticulated,  until  the  time  of  Livius,  who  set  apart  a  singer  for 
the  interludes,  while  he  himself  only  used  his  voice  in  the  dialogue. 
The  unrestrained  and  merry  character  of  the  Saturae  fitted  them  for 
the  after-pieces,  which  broke  up  the  day's  proceedings  (exodium)  ; 
but  in  later  times,  when  tragedies  were  performed,  this  position 
was  generally  taken  by  the  A  tellana  or  the  Mime.  The  name  Satura 
(or  Satira)  is  from  lanx  satura,  the  medley  or  hodge-podge,  "  quae 
referta  variis  multisque  prim 'ul  is  in  sacro  apud  priscos  diis  infere- 
batur."  Mommsen  supposes  it  to  have  been  the  "  masque  of  the 
full  men  "  (saturi),  enacted  at  a  popular  festival,  while  others  have 
connected  it  with  the  Greek  Satyric  Drama.  In  its  dramatic  form 
it  disappears  early  from  history,  and  assumes  with  Ennius  a  dif- 
ferent character,  which  has  clung  to  it  ever  since. 

Besides  these  we  have  to  notice  the  Mime  and  the  Ateilanae. 
The  former  corresponds  roughly  with  our  farce,  though  the  panto- 
mimic clement  is  also  present,  and  in  the  most  recent  period 
gained  the  ascendancy.  Its  true  Latin  name  is  Planipes  (so 
Juvenal  Plauipedcs  audit  Fablos2)  in  allusion  to  the  actor's 
entering  the  stage  barefoot,  no  doubt  for  the  better  exhibition  of 
his  agility.  Mimes  must  have  existed  from  very  remote  times  in 
Italy,  but  they  did  not  come  into  prominence  until  the  later  days 
of  the  Republic,  when  Laberius  and  Syrus  cultivated  them  with 
marked  success.  We  therefore  defer  noticing  them  until  our 
account  of  that  period. 

There  still  remain  the  fabulae  Ateilanae,  so  called  from  Atella, 
an  Oscan  town  of  Campania,  and  often  mentioned  as  Osci  Ludi, 
These  were  more  honourable  than  the  other  kinds,  inasmuch  as 
they  were  performed  by  the  young  nobles,  wearing  masks,  and 
giving  the  reins  to  their  power  of  improvisation.  Teuffe] 
(L.  L.  §  9)  considers  the  subjects  to  havs  been  "comic  descrip- 

1  Lot.  cit.  a  Juv.  viii.  10L 


SO  HISTORY  Or  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tion3  of  life  in  small  towns,  in  which  the  chief  personage! 
gradually  assumed  a  fixed  character."  In  the  period  of  which 
we  are  now  treating,  i.e.  before  the  time  of  a  written  literature, 
they  were  exclusively  in  the  hands  of  free-horn  citizens,  and,  to 
use  Livy's  expression,  were  not  allowed  to  be  polluted  by  pro- 
fessional actors.  But  this  hindered  their  progress,  and  it  was 
not  until  several  centuries  after  their  introduction,  viz.,  in  the 
time  of  Sulla,  that  they  received  literary  treatment.  They 
adopted  the  dialect  of  the  common  people,  and  were  more  or  less 
popular  in  their  character.  More  details  will  be  given  when  we 
examine  them  in  their  completer  form.  All  such  parts  of  these 
early  scenic  entertainments  as  were  not  mere  conversation  or 
ribaldry,  were  probably  composed  in  the  Saturnian  metre. 

This  ancient  rhythm,  the  only  one  indigenous  to  Italy,  presents 
some  points  worthy  of  discussion.  The  original  application  of 
the  name  is  not  agreed  upon.  Thompson  says,  "The  term 
Saturnius  seems  to  have  possessed  two  distinct  applications.  In 
both  of  these,  however,  it  simply  meant/  '  as  old  as  the  days  of 
Saturn,'  and,  like  the  Greek  'Oyvyios,  was  a  kind  of  proverbial 
expression  for  something  antiquated.  Hence  (1)  the  rude 
rhythmical  effusions,  which  contained  the  early  Roman  story, 
might  be  called  Saturnian,  not  with  reference  to  their  metrical 
law,  but  to  their  antiquity  ;  and  (2)  the  term  Saturnius  was  also 
applied  to  a  definite  measure  on  the  principles  of  Greek  prosody, 
though  rudely  and  loosely  moulded — the  measure  employed  by 
Naevius,  which  soon  hec&mdriutiquated,  when  Ennius  introduced 
the  hexameter — and  which  is  the  metrum  Saturnium  recognised 
by  the  grammarians."1  Whether  this  measure  was  of  Italian 
origin,  as  Niebuhr  and  Macaulay  think,  or  was  introduced  from 
Greece  at  an  early  period,  it  never  attained  to  anything  like  Greek 
strictness  of  metrical  rules.  To  scan  a  line  of  Livius  or  Naevius, 
in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  is  by  no  means  an  easy  task,  since 
there  was  not  the  same  constancy  of  usage  with  regard  to  quantity 
as  prevailed  after  Ennius,  and  the  relative  prominence  of  syllables 
was  determined  by  accent,  either  natural  or  metrical.  By  natural 
accent  is  meant  the  higher  or  lower  pitch  of  the  voice,  which  rests 
on  a  particular  syllable  of  each  word  e.g.  Lucius,  by  metrical 
accent  the  ictus  or  beat  of  the  verse,  which  in  the  Greek  rhvthms 
implies  a  long  quantity ,  but  in  the  Saturnian  measure  has  nothing 
to  do  with  quantity.  The  principle  underlying  the  structure  of  the 
measure  is  as  follows.     It  is  a  succession  of  trochaic  beats,  six  in 

1  Some  have  imagined  that,  as  Saturnia  tellies  is  used  for  Italy,  sc 
Saturnius  numerus  may  simply  mean  the  native  or  Italian  rhythm 
Bentley  (Ep.  Phal.  xi.)  shows  that  it  is  known-  to  the  Greeks. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE.  31 

•H,  prrceded  by  a  single  syllable,  as  in  the  instance  quoted  by 
Macaulay  : 

"  T^ie  j  queen  was  fa  her  chamber  eating  bread  and  honey.* 

So  in  the  Scipionic  epitaph, 

u  Qui  \  bus  si  in  longa  licuiset  tibi  litier  vita.** 

These  are,  doubtless,  the  purest  form  of  the  measure.  In  these 
there  is  no  break,  but  an  even  continuous  flow  of  trochaic  rhythm. 
But  even  in  the  earliest  examples  of  Saturnians  there  is  a  very 
strong  tendency  to  form  a  break  by  making  the  third  trochaic 
beat  close  a  word,  e.g. 

"  Cor  |  neliiis  Lucius  |  Scipio  Barbatus," 

and  this  structure  prevailed,  so  that  in  the  fragments  of  Livius 
and  Naevius  by  far  the  greater  number  exhibit  it. 

When  Greek  patterns  of  versification  were  introduced,  the 
Saturnian  rhythm  seems  to  have  received  a  different  explanation. 
It  was  considered  as  a  compound  of  the  iambic  and  trochaic 
systems.  It  might  be  described  as  an  iambic  hepthemimer 
followed  by  a  trochaic  dimeter  brachycatalectic.  The  lattei 
portion  was  preserved  with  something  like  regularity,  but  the 
former  admitted  many  variations.  The  best  example  of  this 
Graecised  metre  is  the  celebrated  line — 

"Dabunt  malum  Metelli  J  Naevio  poetae." 

If,  however,  we  look  into  the  existing  fragments  of  Naevius 
and  Livius,  and  compare  them  with  the  Scipionic  epitaphs,  we 
shall  find  that  there  is  no  appreciable  difference  in  the  rhythm ; 
that  whatever  theory  grammarians  might  adopt  to  explain  it,  the 
measure  of  these  poets  is  the  genuine  trochaic  beat,  so  natural  tc 
a  primitive  people,1  and  only  so  far  elaborated  as  to  have  in  most 
cases  a  pause  after  the  first  half  of  the  line.  The  idea  that  the 
metre  had  prosodiacal  laws,  which,  nevertheless,  its  greatest 
masters  habitually  violated,2  is  one  that  would  never  have  been 
maintained  had  not  the  desire  to  systematise  all  Latin  prosody  on 

1  The  name  rpoxcuos,  "the  running  metre,"  sufficiently  indicates  its 
applicability  to  early  recitations,  in  which  the  rapidity  of  the  singer's 
movements  was  essential  to  the  desired  effect. 

2  Attilius  Fortunatianus,  De  Doctr.  Mctr.  xxvi.  Spengel  (quoted  Teuft. 
Rom.  Lit.  §  53,  3)  assumes  the  following  laws  of  Saturnian  metre: — "  (1)  Tin- 
Saturn ian  line  is  asynartetic ;  (2)  in  no  line  is  it  possible  to  omit  more  than 
one  thesis,  and  then  only  the  last  but  one,  generally  in  the  second  half  of  the 
line ;  (3)  the  caesura  must  never  be  neglected,  and  falls  after  the  fourth 
thesis  or  the  third  arsis  (this  rule,  however,  is  by  no  means  universally 
observed);  (4)  hiatus  is  often  permitted  ;  (5)  the  arsis  may  be  solved,  and 
the  thesis  replaced  bv  pyrrhics  or  leng  syllables." 


32  HISIOKY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

a  Greek  basis  prevailed  almost  universally.  The  true  theory  ol 
early  Latin  scansion  is  established  beyond  a  doubt  by  the  labour! 
of  Ritschl  in  regard  to  Plautus.  This  great  scholar  shows  that, 
■whereas  after  Ennius  classic  poetry  was  based  on  quantity  alone, 
l  fore  him  accent  had  at  least  as  important  a  place  ;  and,  indeed, 
1  At  in  the  determination  of  quantity,  the  main  results  in  many 
a  ises  were  produced  by  the  influence  of  accent. 

Accent  (Gr.  7rpocra>oYa)  implied  that  the  pronunciation  of  the 
accented  syllable  was  on  a  higher  or  lower  note  than  the  rest  of 
the  word.  It  was  therefore  a  musical,  not  a  quantitative  symbol. 
The  rules  for  its  position  are  briefly  as  follows.  No  words  but 
monosyllables  or  contracted  forms  have  the  accent  on  the  last ; 
dissyllables  are  therefore  always  accented  on  the  first,  and  poly- 
syllables on  the  first  or  second,  according  as  the  penultimate  is 
short  or  long,  Lucius,  cecidi.  At  the  same  time,  old  Latin  was 
burdened  with  a  vast  number  of  suffixes  with  a  long  final  vowel. 
The  result  of  the  non-accentuation  of  the  last  syllable  was  a  con- 
tinual tendency  to  slur  over  and  so  shorten  these  suffixes.  And 
this  tendency  was  carried  in  later  times  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
make  the  quantity  of  all  final  vowels  after  a  short  syllable  bearing 
the  accent  indifferent.  There  were  therefore  two  opposing  con- 
siderations which  met  the  poet  in  his  capacity  of  versifier.  There 
was  the  desire  to  retain  the  accent  of  every-day  life,  and  so  make 
his  language  easy  and  natural,  and  the  desire  to  conform  to  the 
true  quantity,  and  so  make  it  strictly  correct.  In  the  early  poets 
this  struggle  of  opposing  principles  is  clearly  seen.  Many 
apparent  anomalies  in  versification  are  due  to  the  influence  of 
accent  over-riding  quantity,  and  many  again  to  the  preservation  of 
the  original  quantity  in  spite  of  the  accent.  Ennius  harmonised 
with  great  skill  the  claims  of  both,  doing  little  more  violence  to 
the  natural  accent  in  his  elaborate  system  of  quantity  than  was  done 
by  the  Saturnian  and  comic  poets  with  their  fluctuating  usage.1 

To  apply  these  results  to  the  Saturnian  verses  extant,  let  us 
select  a  few  examples : 

"  Gnaivdd  patre"  prognatus  |  f6rtis  vir  sapiensque." 

patre  or  pat  red  retains  its  length  by  position,  i.e.  its  metrical 
accent,  against  the  natural  accent  pdtre.  In  the  case  of  syllables 
on  which  the  ictus  does  not  fall  the  quantity  and  accent  are 
indifferent.  They  are  always  counted  as  short,  two  syllables  may 
s;   nd  instead  of  one — 

per  liquidum  mare  sudantes  |  ditem  vexarant. 


*  The  reader  will  find  this  question  discussed  in  "Wagner's  Aulularia 
where  references  are  given  to  the  original  German  authorities. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  ROMAN  LiiERATURE.  33 

or  the  unaccented  syllable  may  be  altogetu  **  omitted,  as  in  the 
second  half  of  the  line — 

"  ditem  vexarant." 
In  a  line  of  Naevius — 


»» 


u  Runciis  atque  Purpureus  |  filii  terras.' 

we  have  in  Purpureus  an  instance  of  accent  dominating  ovei 
quantity.  But  the  first  two  words,  in  which  the  ictus  is  at 
variance  with  both  accent  and  quantity,  show  the  loose  character 
«f  the  metre.  An  interesting  table  is  given  by  Corssen  proving 
that  the  variant  between  natural  and  metrical  accent  is  greater 
in  the  Saturnian  verses  than  in  any  others,  and  in  Plautus  than 
in  subsequent  poets,  and  in  iambics  than  in  trochaics.1  We 
should  infer  from  these  facts  (1)  that  the  trochaic  metre  was  the 
one  most  naturally  suited  to  the  Latin  language;  (2)  that  the 
progress  in  uniting  quantity  and  accent,  which  went  on  in  spite  of 
the  great  inferiority  of  the  poets,  proves  that  the  early  poets  did 
nut  understand  the  conditions  of  the  problem  which  they  had  set 
before  them.  To  follow  out  this  subject  into  detail  would  be  out 
of  place  here.  The  main  point  that  concerns  our  present  purpose 
is,  that  the  great  want  of  skill  displayed  in  the  construction  of  the 
Saturnian  verse  2  shows  the  Eomans  to  have  been  mere  novices  in 
the  art  of  poetical  composition. 

The  Eomans,  as  a  people,  possessed  a  peculiar  talent  for  public 
speaking.     Their  active  interest  in  political  life,  their  youthful 

1  Dactylic  poetry  is  not  here  included,  as  its  progress  is  somewhat  dif- 
ferent. In  this  metre  we  observe:  (1)  That  when  a  dactyl  or  spondee  ends 
a  word,  the  natural  and  metrical  accents  coincide  ;  e.g. — dmnia,  stint  mihi, 
prorumpunt.  Hence  the  fondness  for  such  easy  and  natural  endings  as 
clauduntur  luminandcte,  common  in  all  writers  down  to  Manilius.  (2)  That 
the  caesura  is  opposed  to  the  accent,  e.g. — drma  virHmque  cdno  \  Troiae  \ 
qui.  These  anti-accentual  rhythms  are  continually  found  in  Virgil,  Ovid, 
&e.  from  a  fondness  for  caesura,  where  the  older  writers  have  qui  Troiae,  and 
the  like.  (3)  That  it  would  be  possible  to  avoid  any  collision  between  ictus 
and  accent,  e.g. — scilicet  dmnibus  est  labor  impendendus  et  dmnes :  inveterdscit 
et  aegro  in  corde  sencscit,  &e.  But  the  rarity  of  such  lines  after  Lucretius 
shows  that  they  do  not  conform  to  the  genius  of  the  language.  The  corres- 
pondence thus  lost  by  improved  csesura  is  partially  re-established  by  more 
careful  elision.  Elision  is  used  by  Virgil  to  make  the  verse  run  smoothly 
without  violating  the  natural  pronunciation  of  the  words  ;  e.g. — mdnstriwn 
horrendum  inf&rme  ;  but  this  is  only  in  the  Aeneid.  Such  simple  means  of 
gaining  this  end  as  the  Lucretian  sive  coluptas  ist,  immorldli  stint,  are  alto- 
getlur  avoided  by  him.  On  the  whole,  however,  among  the  Dactylic  poets, 
from  Junius  to  Juvenal,  the  balance  between  natural  and  metrical  accent 
remained  unchanged. 

2  Most  of  the  verses  extant  in  this  metre  will  be  found  in  Wordsworth'i 
Fragments  and  Specimens  of  Early  Latin. 

O 


34  HISTORY  OF  ROMAK  LITERATURE. 

training  and  the  necessity  of  managing  their  own  affairs  at  ail 
age  which  in  most  countries  would  be  wholly  engrossed  with 
boyish  sports,  all  combined  to  make  readiness  of  speech  an  almost 
universal  acquirement.  The  weighty  earnestness  (r/ravitas)  peculiar 
to  bhe  national  character  was  nowhere  more  conspicuously  dis- 
played than  in  the  impassioned  and  yet  strictly  practical  discussions 
of  the  senate.  Taught  as  boys  to  follow  at  their  father's  side, 
whether  in  the  forum,  at  the  law  courts,  in  the  senate  at  a  great 
debate,  or  at  home  among  his  agricultural  duties,  they  gained  at 
an  early  age  an  insight  into  public  business  and  a  patient  aptitude 
for  work,  combined  with  a  power  of  manly  and  natural  eloquence, 
which  nothing  but  such  daily  familiarity  could  have  bestowed 
In  the  earlier  centuries  of  Rome  the  power  of  speaking  was 
acquired  solely  by  practice.  Eloquence  was  not  reduced  to  the 
rules  of  an  art,  far  less  studied  through  manuals  of  rhetoric. 
The  celebrated  speech  of  Appius  Claudius  when,  blind,  aged,  and 
infirm,  he  was  borne  in  a  litter  to  the  senate-house,  and  by  his 
burning  words  shamed  the  wavering  fathers  into  an  attitude 
worthy  of  their  country,  was  the  greatest  memorial  of  this  un- 
studied native  eloquence.  "When  Greek  letters  were  introduced, 
oratory,  like  everything  else,  was  profoundly  influenced  by  them  j 
and  although  it  never,  during  the  republican  period,  lost  its 
national  character,  yet  too  much  of  mere  display  was  undoubtedly 
mixed  up  with  it,  and  the  severe  self-restraint  of  the  native 
school  disappeared,  or  was  caricatured  by  antiquarian  imitators. 
The  great  nurse  of  Eoman  eloquence  was  Freedom ;  when  that 
was  lost,  eloquence  sank,  and  while  that  existed,  the  mere  lack 
of  technical  dexterity  cannot  have  greatly  abated  from  the  real 
power  of  the  speakers. 

The  subject  which  the  Romans  wrought  out  for  themselves 
with  the  least  assistance  from  Greek  thought,  w,as  Jurisprudence. 
In  this  they  surpassed  not  only  the  Greeks,  but  all  nations 
ancient  and  modern.  From  the  early  formulae,  mostly  of  a  religious 
character,  which  existed  in  the  regal  period,  until  the  publication 
of  the  Decemviral  code,  conservatism  and  progress  went  hand  in 
hand.1  After  that  epoch  elementary  legal  knowledge  began  to 
be  diffused,  though  the  interpretation  of  the  Twelve  Tables  was 
exclusively  in  the  hands  of  the  Patricians.  But  the  limitation  of 
the  judicial  power  by  the  establishment  of  a  fixed  code,  and  the 
obligation  of  the  magistrate  to  decide  according  to  the  written 
letter,  naturally  encouraged  a  keen  study  of  the  sources  which 

*  A  good  essay  ou  tins  subject  is  to  De  found  iu  Woruswortn's  FragrtumH 
p.  580    vqq- 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE.  35 

fn  later  times  expanded  into  the  splendid  developments  ol 
Eoman  legal  science.  The  first  institution  of  the  table  of 
legis  actiones,  attributed  to  Appius  Claudius  (304  b.c),  must  be 
considered  as  the  commencement  of  judicial  knowledge  proper. 
The  responsa  prudentium,  at  the  giving  of  which  younger  men 
were  present  as  listeners,  must  have  contributed  to  form  a  legal 
habit  of  thought  among  the  citizens,  and  prepared  a  vast  mass 
of  material  for  the  labours  of  the  philosophic  jurists  of  a  later 
age. 

But  inasmuch  as  neither  speeches  nor  legal  decisions  were  gene- 
rally committed  to  writing,  except  in  the  bare  form  of  registers, 
we  do  not  find  that  there  was  any  growth  of  regular  prose  com- 
position. The  rule  that  prose  is  posterior  to  poetry  holds  good  in 
Rome,  in  spite  of  the  essentially  prosaic  character  of  the  people. 
It  has  been  already  said  that  religious,  legal,  and  other  formulae  were 
arranged  in  rhythmical  fashion,  so  as  be  known  by  the  name  of 
carmina.  And  conformably  to  this  we  see  that  the  earliest  com- 
posers of  history,  who  are  in  point  of  time  the  first  prose  writers 
of  Rome,  did  not  write  in  Latin  at  all,  but  in  Greek.  The  history 
of  Latin  prose  begins  with  Cato.  He  gave  it  that  peculiar 
colouring  which  it  never  afterwards  entirely  lost.  Having  now 
completed  our  preliminary  remarks,  we  shall  proceed  to  a  more 
detailed  account  of  the  earliest  writers  whote  names  or  waikfi 
have  joue  down  to  u& 


CHAPTER  HI 

The  Introduction  of  Greek  Literature — Lmus  ah© 

ISTaevius  (240-204  b.c). 

It  is  not  easy  for  us  to  realise  the  effect  produced  on  the  Romans 
by  their  first  acquaintance  with  Greek  civilisation.  The  debt 
incurred  by  English  theology,  philosophy,  and  music,  to  Germany, 
offers  but  a  faint  parallel.  If  we  add  to  this  our  obligations 
to  Italy  for  painting  and  sculpture,  to  France  for  mathe- 
matical science,  popular  comedy,  and  the  culture  of  the  salon, 
to  the  Jews  for  finance,  and  to  other  nations  for  those  town 
amusements  which  we  are  so  slow  to  invent  for  ourselves,  we 
shall  still  not  have  exhausted  or  even  adequately  illustrated  the 
multifarious  influences  shed  on  every  department  of  Roman 
life  by  the  newly  transplanted  genius  of  Hellas.  It  was  not  that 
she  merely  lent  an  impulse  or  gave  a  direction  to  elements  already 
existing.  She  did  this;  but  she  did  far  more.  She  kindled 
into  life  by  her  fruitful  contact  a  literature  in  prose  and  -verse 
which  flourished  for  centuries.  She  completely  undermined 
the  general  belief  in  the  state  religion,  substituting  for  it  the 
fair  creations  of  her  finer  fancy,  or  when  she  did  not  substitute, 
blending  the  two  faiths  together  with  sympathetic  skill;  she 
entwined  herself  round  the  earliest  legends  of  Italy,  and  so 
moulded  the  historical  aspirations  of  Rome  that  the  great  patrician 
came  to  pride  himself  on  his  own  ancestral  connection  with  Greece, 
and  the  descent  of  his  founder  from  the  race  whom  Greece  had 
conquered.  Her  philosophers  ruled  the  speculations,  as  her  artists 
determined  the  aesthetics,  of  all  Roman  amateurs.  Her  physicians 
held  for  centuries  the  exclusive  practice  of  scientific  medicine ; 
while  in  music,  singing,  dancing,  to  say  nothing  of  the  lighter  or 
less  reputable  arts  of  ingratiation,  her  professors  had  no  rivals. 
The  great  field  of  education,  after  the  break  up  of  the  ancient 
system,  was  mainly  in  Greek  hands;  while  her  literature  and 
language  were  so  familiar  to  the  educated   Roman  that  in  hii 


livius.  37 

moments  of  intensest  feeling  it  was  gene j  ally  in  seme  Greek 
apophthegm  that  he  expressed  the  passion  which  moved  him.1 

It  would,  therefore,  be  scarcely  too  much  to  assert  that  in 
every  field  of  thought  (except  that  of  law,  where  Kome  remained 
strictly  national)  the  Eoman  intellect  was  entirely  under  the 
ascendancy  of  the  Greek.  There  are,  of  course,  individual  excep- 
tions. Men  like  Cato,  Varro,  and  in  a  later  age  perhaps  Juvenal, 
could  understand  and  digest  Greek  culture  without  thereby  losing 
their  peculiarly  Eoman  ways  of  thought;  but  these  patriots  in 
literature,  while  rewarded  with  the  highest  praise,  did  not  exert  a 
proportionate  influence  on  the  development  of  the  national  mind. 
They  remained  like  comets  moving  in  eccentric  orbs  outside  the 
regular  and  observed  motion  of  the  celestial  system. 

The  strongly  felt  desire  to  know  something  about  Greek  litera- 
ture must  have  produced  within  a  few  years  a  pioneer  boJd  enough 
to  make  the  attempt,  if  the  accident  of  a  schoolmaster  needing 
text-books  in  the  vernacular  for  his  scholars  had  not  brought  it 
about.  The  man  who  thus  first  clothed  Greek  poetry  in  a  Latin 
dress,  and  who  was  always  gratefully  remembered  by  the  Romans 
in  spite  of  his  sorry  performance  of  the  task,  was  Livius  An- 
Dronicus  (285-204?  b.c),  a  Greek  from  Tarentum,  brought  to  Eome 
275  B.O.,  and  made  the  slave  probably  of  M.  Livius  Salinator. 
Having  received  his  freedom,  he  set  up  a  school,  and  for  the  benefit 
of  his  pupils  translated  the  Odyssey  into  Saturnian  verse.  A  few 
fragments  of  this  version  survive,  but  they  are  of  no  merit  either 
from  a  poetical  or  a  scholastic  point  of  view,  being  at  once  bald 
and  incorrect.2  Cicero3  speaks  slightingly  of  his  poems,  as  also 
does  Horace,4  from  boyish  experience  of  their  contents.  It  is 
curious  that  productions  so  immature  should  have  kept  their 
position  as  text-books  for  near  two  centuries ;  the  fact  shows  how 
conservative  the  Eomans  were  in  such  matters. 

Livius  also  translated  tragedies  from  the  Greek.  We  have  the 
names  of  the  Achilles,  Aegisthus,  Ajax,  Andromeda,  Danae,  Equus 
TrojanuSy  Terens,  Hermione,  Ino.  In  this  sphere  also  he  seems 
to  have  written  from  a  commendable  motive,  to  supply  the  popular 
want  of  a  legitimate  drama.  His  first  play  was  represented  in 
240  b.c.  He  himself  followed  the  custom,  universal  in  the  early 
period,5  of  acting  in  his  own  dramas.     In  them  he  reproduced 

1  Scipio  quoted  Homer  when  he  saw  the  flames  of  Carthage  rising.  He  is 
described  as  having  been  profoundly  moved.  And  according  to  one  report 
Caesar's  last  words,  when  he  saw  Brutus  among  his  assassins,  were  kou  ok 

TtKVO* 

2  Tne  reader  wLl  find  them  all  in  Wordsworth. 

*  Brut,  xviii.  71,  non  diyna  sunt  quae  iteniw  legantur. 
4  Ep.  ii.  1,  69.  5  Uv.  vii.  2. 


38  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

some  of  the  simpler  Greek  metres,  especially  tlie  trochaic ;  and 
Terentianus  Maurus1  gives  from  the  Ino  specimens  of  a  curious, ex- 
periment in  metre,  viz.  the  substitution  of  an  iambus  for  a  spondee 
in  the  last  foot  of  a  hexameter.  As  memorials  of  the  old  language 
these  fragments  present  some  interest;  words  like  perbitere 
(=perire)f  anculabant  (=  hauriebant),  nefrendem  (  =  infantem), 
dusmus  ( =  dumosus),  disappeared  long  before  the  classical  period. 

His  plodding  industry  and  laudable  aims  obtained  him  the 
respect  of  the  people.  He  was  not  only  selected  by  the  Pontifices 
to  write  the  poem  on  the  victory  of  Sena  (207  b.c.),2  but  was  the 
means  of  acquiring  for  the  class  of  poets  a  recognised  position  in 
the  body  corporate  of  the  state.  His  name  was  handed  down  to 
later  times  as  the  first  awakener  of  literary  effort  at  Rome,  but  he 
hardly  deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the  body  of  Eoman  authors. 
The  impulse  which  he  had  communicated  rapidly  bore  fruit 
Dramatic  literature  was  proved  to  be  popular,  and  a  poet  soon 
arose  who  was  fully  capable  of  fixing  its  character  in  the  lines 
which  its  after  successful  cultivation  mainly  pursued.  Cn.  Naevius, 
(269 ^-204  b.c.)  a  Campanian  of  Latin  extraction  and  probably  not  a 
Roman  citizen,  had  in  his  early  manhood  fought  in  the  first  Punic 
war.3  At  its  conclusion  he  came  to  Rome  and  applied  himself  to 
literary  work.  He  seems  to  have  brought  out  his  first  play  as 
early  as  235  b.o.  His  work  mainly  consisted  of  translations  from 
the  Greek ;  he  essayed  both  tragedy  and  comedy,  but  his  genius 
inclined  him  to  prefer  the  latter.  Many  of  his  comedies  have 
Latin  names,  DoUls,  Figidus,  Nautae,  &c.  These,  however,  were 
not  togafae  but  palliatae*  treated  after  the  same  manner  as 
those  of  Plautus,  with  Greek  costumes  and  surroundings.  His 
original  contribution  to  the  stage  was  the  Praetexta,  or  national 
historical  drama,  which  thenceforth  established  itself  as  a  legiti- 
mate, though  rarely  practised,  branch  of  dramatic  art.  We  have 
the  names  of  two  Pradextae  by  him,  Cladidium  and  Bomulus 
or  Alimonium  Rnmidi  et  Remi. 

The  style  of  his  plays  can  only  be  roughly  inferred  from  the 
few  passage*  which  time  has  spared  us.  That  it  was  masculine 
and  vigorous  is  clear ;  we  should  expect  also  to  find  from  the 
remarks  of  Horace  as  well  as  from  his  great  antiquity,  considerable 

l  19,  35.     The  lines  are— 

"  Et  iam  purpureo  suras  include  cothurno, 
Altius  et  revocet  volucres  in  pectoie  sinus : 
Pressaque  iam  gravida  crepitent  tibi  terga  pharetra; 
Derige  odorisequos  ad  certa  cubilia  canes." 

In  their  present  form  these  verses  are  obviously  a  century  and  a  half  at  leas) 
later  than  Livius. 
8  Livy,  xxvii.  37.  8  Gell.  xvii.  21,  45.  «  See  page  46. 


NAEV1US.  3$ 

rourrhriess.     But  on  referring  to  the  fragments  we  do  not  observe 

o  o  o 

this.  On  the  contrary,  the  sty]  3  both  in  tragedy  and  comedy  is 
simple,  natural,  and  in  good  taste.  It  is  certainly  less  laboured 
than  that  of  Ennius,  and  though  it  lacks  the  racy  flavour  of 
Plautus,  shows  no  inferiority  to  his  in  command  of  the  resources  of 
the  language.1  On  the  whole,  we  are  inclined  to  justify  the  people 
in  their  admiration  for  him  as  a  genuine  exponent  of  the  strong 
native  humour  of  his  day,  which  the  refined  poets  of  a  later  age 
could  not  appreciate. 

Naevius  did  not  only  occupy  himself  with  writing  plays.  He 
took  a  keen  interest  in  politics,  and  brought  himself  into  trouble 
by  the  freedom  with  which  he  lampooned  some  of  the  leading 
families.  The  Metelli,  especially,  were  assailed  by  him,  and  it 
was  probably  through  their  resentment  that  he  was  sent  to  prison, 
where  he  solaced  himself  by  composing  two  comedies.2  Plautus, 
who  was  more  cautious,  and  is  by  some  thought  to  have  had  for 
Naevius  some  of  the  jealousy  of  a  rival  craftsman,  alludes  to  thia 
imprisonment : — s 

"  Nam  os  columnatum  poetae  esse  indaudivi  barbaro, 
Quoi  bini  custodes  semper  totis  horis  accubant." 

The  poet,  however,  did  not  learn  wisdom  from  experience.  He 
lampooned  the  great  Scipio  in  some  spirited  verses  still  extant,  and 
doubtless  made  many  others  feel  the  shafts  of  his  ridicule.  But 
the  censorship  of  literary  opinion  was  very  strict  in  Eome,  and 
when  he  again  fell  under  it,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  city.  He 
is  said  to  have  retired  to  Utica,  where  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life 
and  died  (circ.  204  b.c).  It  was  probably  there  that  he  wrote 
the  poem  which  gives  him  the  chief  interest  for  us,  and  the  loss 
of  which  by  the  hand  of  time  is  deeply  to  be  regretted.  Debarred 
from  the  stage,  he  turned  to  his  own  military  experience  for  a 
subject,  and  chose  the  first  Punic  war.  He  thus  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  class  of  poetry  known  as  the  "  National  Epic,"  which 
received  its  final  development  in  the  hands  of  Virgil.     The  poem 

1  The  reader  may  like  to  see  one  or  two  specimens.     We  give  one  from 

tragedy  (the  Lycurgus) : 

44  Vos  qui  regalis  corporis  custodias 
Agitatls,  ite  actutum  in  frundiferos  locos, 
Ingenio  arbusta  ubi  nata  sunt,  non  obsita;" 

and  one  from  comedy  (the  Tarentilla),  the  description  of  a  coquette— 

14  Quasi  pila 
In  choro  ludens  datatim  dat  se  et  communem  facit; 
Alii  admit  at,  alii  adnictat,  alium  aniat,  alium  tenet. 
Alibi  manus  e=st  occupata,  alii  pevcellit  pedem, 
Anulum  alii  dat  spectandum,  a  labris  alium  invocat, 
Alii  cantat,  attamen  alii  suo  dat  digito  literas." 

*  The  Hariolut  and  Leo,  3  Mil.  Glor.  21  J, 


40  HISTORY  3F  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

was  written  in  Saturnian  verse,  perhaps  from  a  patriotic  motive  j 
and  was  not  divided  into  books  until  a  century  after  the  poet'a 
death,  when  the  grammarian  Lampadio  arranged  it  in  seven  books, 
assigning  two  to  the  mythical  relations  of  Eome  and  Carthage,  and 
the  remainder  to  the  history  of  the  war.  The  narrative  seems  to 
have  been  vivid,  truthful,  and  free  from  exaggerations  of  language. 
The  legendary  portion  contained  the  story  of  Aeneas's  visit  to  Car 
thage,  which  Virgil  adopted,  besides  borrowing  other  single  inci 
dents.  What  fragments  remain  are  not  very  interesting  and  dc 
not  enable  us  to  pronounce  any  judgment.  But  Cicero's  epithet 
"  Incident e  scripsit"1  is  sufficient  to  show  that  he  highly  appre- 
ciated the  poet's  powers ;  and  the  popularity  which  he  obtained 
in  his  nfe-time  and  for  centuries  after  his  death,  attests  his  capacity 
of  seizing  the  national  modes  of  thought.  He  had  a  high  opinion 
of  himself ;  he  held  himself  to  be  the  champion  of  the  old  Italian 
school  as  opposed  to  the  Graecising  innovators.  His  epitaph  is 
very  characteristic  :2 

M  Mortales  immortal es  si  foret  fas  flere, 
Flerent  Divae  Camenae  Naeviura  poetam. 
Itaque  postquamst  Orcino  traditus  thesauro 
Obliti  sunt  liomae  loquier  Latina  lingua." 

1  Brut  19,  75. 

2  If  immortals  might  weep  for  mortals,  the  divine  Camenae  would  weep 
for  Naevius  the  poet ;  thus  it  is  that  now  he  has  been  delivered  into  the 
treasure-house  of  Orcus,  men  have  forgotten  at  Rome  hev  to  speak  ths 
Latin  JPMWb 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BOMAN  OCMEDT — FLAUTUS  TO  TURPILIUS  (254-103  B.O.). 

Before  entering  upon  any  criticism  of  the  comic  authors,  it  will 
be  well  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  the  general  characteristics  of  the 
Roman  theatre.  Theatrical  structures  at  Rome  resembled  on  the 
whole  those  of  Greece,  from  which  they  were  derived  at  first 
through  the  medium  of  Etruria,1  but  afterwards  directly  from  the 
great  theatres  which  Magna  Graecia  possessed  in  abundance.  Un- 
like the  Greek  theatres,  however,  those  at  Rome  were  of  wood 
not  of  stone,  and  were  mere  temporary  erections,  taken  down  im- 
mediately after  being  used.  On  scaffoldings  of  this  kind  the  plays 
of  Plautus  and  Terence  were  performed.  Even  during  the  last 
period  of  the  Republic,  wooden  theatres  were  set  up,  sometimes 
on  a  scale  of  profuse  expenditure  little  consistent  with  their 
duration.2  An  attempt  was  made  to  build  a  permanent  stone 
theatre,  135  b.c,  but  it  was  defeated  by  the  Consul  Scipio  Nasica.3 

The  credit  of  building  the  first  such  edifice  is  due  to  Pompey 
(55  b.c),  who  caused  it  to  have  accommodation  for  40,000  spec- 
tators. Vitruvius  in  his  fifth  book  explains  the  ground-plan  of 
such  buildings.  They  were  almost  always  on  the  same  model, 
differing  in  material  and  size.  On  one  occasion  two  whole  theatres 
of  wood,  placed  back  to  back,  were  made  to  turn  on  a  pivot,  and 
so  being  united,  to  form  a  single  amphitheatre.4  In  construction, 
the  Roman  theatre  differed  from  the  Greek  in  reserving  an  arc  not 
exceeding  a  semicircle  for  the  spectators.  The  stage  itself  was 
large  and  raised  not  more  than  five  feet.  But  the  orchestra,  instead 
of  containing  the  chorus,  was  filled  by  senators,  magistrates,  and 

1  See  Livy,  vii.  2. 

2  The  most  celebral  ed  was  that  erected  by  Scaurus  in  his  aedileship  58 
B.C.,  an  almost  incredible  description  of  which  is  given  by  Pliny,  N.  H.  xxxvi. 
12.     See  Diet.  Ant.  Theatrum,  whence  this  is  taken. 

5  A  temporary  stone  theatre  was  probably  erected  for  the  Apollinarian 
Games,  179  B.C.  If  so,  it  was  soon  pulled  down  ;  a  remarkable  instance 
of  the  determination  of  the  Senate  not  to  encourage  dramatic  perfomancea, 

4  Done  by  Curio,  50  B  0. 


42  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

distinguished  guests.1  This  made  it  easier  foi  the  Romans  to  di» 
pense  with  a  chorus  altogether,  which  we  find,  as  a  rule,  they  did. 
The  rest  of  the'  people  sat  or  stood  in  the  great  semicircle  behind 
that  which  formed  the  orchestra.  The  order  in  which  they  placed 
themselves  was  not  fixed  by  law  until  the  later  years  of  the 
Republic,  and  again,  with  additional  safeguards,  in  the  reign  of 
Augustus.2  But  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  rules  of  pre- 
cedence were  for  the  most  part  voluntarily  observed. 

It  would  appear  that  in  ihe  earliest  theatres  there  were  no  tiers 
of  seats  (cunei),  but  merely  a  semicircle  of  sloping  soil,  banked  up 
for  the  occasion  (cavea)  on  which  those  who  had  brought  seats  sat 
down,  while  the  rest  stood  or  reclined.  The  stage  itself  is  called 
pidpitnm  or  proscaenium,  and  the  decorated  background  scama. 
Women  and  children  were  allowed  to  be  present  from  the  earliest 
period  ;  slaves  were  not,3  though  it  is  probable  that  many  came 
by  the  permission  of  their  masters.  The  position  of  poets  and 
actors  was  anything  but  reputable.  The  manager  of  the  company 
was  generally  at  best  a  freed  man ;  and  the  remuneration  given  by 
the  Aediles,  if  the  piece  was  successful,  was  very  small ;  if  it 
failed,  even  that  was  withheld.  The  behaviour  of  the  audience  was 
certainly  none  of  the  best.  Accustomed  at  all  times  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  eye  rather  than  the  ear,  the  Romans  were  always  impa- 
tient of  mere  dialogue.  Thus  Terence  tells  us  that  contemporary 
poets  resorted  to  various  devices  to  produce  some  novel  spectacle, 
and  he  feels  it  necessary  to  explain  why  he  himself  furnishes  nothing 
of  the  kind.  Fair  criticism  could  hardly  be  expected  from  so  motley 
an  assembly  ;  hence  Terence  begs  the  people  in  each  case  to  listen 
carefully  to  his  play  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  if  they  disapprove, 
to  hiss  it  off  the  stage.4  In  the  times  of  Plautus  and  Ennius  the 
spectators  were  probably  more  discriminating ;  but  the  steady 
depravation  of  the  spectacles  furnished  for  their  amusement  con- 
tributed afterwards  to  brutalise  them  with  fearful  rapidity,  until 
at  the  close  of  the  Republican  period  dramatic  exhibitions  were 
thought  nothing  of  in  comparison  with  a  wild-beast  fight  or  9 
gladiatorial  show. 

At  first,  however,  comedy  was  decidedly  a  favourite  with  the 
people,  and  for  one  tragic  poet  whose  name  has  reached  us  there 
are  at  least  five  comedians.  Of  the  three  kinds  of  poetry  culti- 
vated in  this  early  period,  comedy,  which,  according  to  Quintiliaii5 
was  the  least  successful,  has  been  much  the  most  fortunate.  Foi 
whereas  we  have  to  form  our  opinion  of  Roman  tragedy  chiefly 

1  Primus  subsclliorum  ordo.  *  Otho's  Law,  68  B.C., 

8  See  Mommsen,  Bk.  iii.  ch.  xv.  4  See  prol.  to  Andria. 

*  Quint,  x.  1,  Gomoedia  maxim  claudicamua. 


ROMAN  COMEDY — PLAUTUS.  43 

from  the  testimony  of  ancient  authors,  we  can  estimate  the  value  of 
Eoman  comedy  from  the  ample  remains  of  its  two  greatest  masters. 
The  plays  of  Plautus  are  the  most  important  for  this  purpose. 
Independently  of  their  greater  talent,  they  give  a  truer  picture  ol 
Eoman  manners,  and  reflect  more  accurately  the  popular  taste  and 
level  of  culture.  It  is  from  them,  therefore,  that  any  general  re- 
marks on  Eoman  comedy  would  naturally  be  illustrated. 

Comedy,  being  based  on  the  fluctuating  circumstances  of  real 
life,  lends  itself  more  easily  than  tragedy  to  a  change  of  form. 
Hence,  while  tragic  art  after  once  passing  its  prime  slowly  bul 
steadily  declines,  comedy  seems  endued  with  greater  vitality,  and 
when  politics  and  religion  are  closed  to  it,  readily  contents  itself 
with  the  less  ambitious  sphere  of  manners.  Thus,  at  Athens, 
Menander  raised  the  new  comedy  to  a  celebrity  little  if  at  all  inferior 
to  the  old ;  while  the  form  of  art  which  he  created  has  retained 
its  place  in  modern  literature  as  perhaps  the  most  enduring  which 
the  drama  has  assumed.  In  Eome  there  was  far  too  little  liberty 
of  speech  for  the  Aristophanic  comedy  to  be  possible.  Outspoken 
attacks  in  public  on  the  leading  statesmen  did  not  accord  with 
the  senatorial  idea  of  government.  Hence  such  poets  as  possessed 
a  comic  vein  were  driven  to  the  only  style  which  could  be  culti- 
vated with  impunity,  viz.  that  of  Philemon  and  Menander.  But 
a  difficulty  met  them  at  the  outset.  The  broad  allusions  and 
rough  fun  of  Aristophanes  Avere  much  more  intelligible  to  a  Eoman 
public  than  the  refined  ciiticism  and  quiet  satire  of  Menander, 
even  supposing  the  poet  able  to  reproduce  these.  The  author  who 
aspired  to  please  the  public  had  this  problem  before  him, — while 
taking  the  Middle  and  New  Comedy  of  Athens  for  his  model,  to 
adapt  them  to  the  coarser  requirements  of  Eoman  taste  and  the 
national  rather  than  cosmopolitan  feeling  of  a  Eoman  audience, 
without  drawing  down  the  wrath  of  the  government  by  im- 
prudent political  allusions. 

It  was  the  success  with  which  Plautus  fulfilled  theso  conditions 
that  makes  him  pre-eminently  the  comic  poet  of  Eome ;  and  which, 
though  purists  affected  to  depreciate  him,1  excited  the  admiration 
of  such  men  as  Cicero,2  Varro,  and  Sisenna,  and  secured  the  unin- 
terrupted representation  of  his  plays  until  the  fourth  century  oi 
the  Empire. 

The  life  of  Plautus,  which  extended  from  254  to  "!S4  &.CL 
presents   little  of   interest.     His  name  used  to   be   writttr.    \1 

4  Ilor.  Ep   ii.  1, 170. 

**  At  vestri  proavi  Plautinos  et  numeros  et 

Laudarere  sales:  nimium  jacienter  utrumqao 

Ne  tiiiMin  stulte  iniiatL" 
1  De  0^.  i.  19,  104 


44  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Aocius,  but  is  now,  on  the  authority  of  the  Anibrosian  MS, 
changed  to  T.  Maccius  Plautus.  He  was  by  birth  an  Umbrian 
from  Sassina,  of  free  parents,  but  poor.  We  are  told  by  Gellius7 
that  he  made  a  small  fortune  by  stage  decorating,  but  lost  it 
by  rash  investment ;  he  was  then  reduced  to  labouring  for  some 
year3  in  a  corn  mill,  but  having  employed  his  spare  time  in  writing, 
he  established  a  sufficient  reputation  to  be  able  to  devote  the  rest 
of  his  life  to  the  pursuit  of  his  art.  He  did  not,  however,  form  a 
high  conception  of  his  responsibility.  The  drudgery  of  manual 
labour  and  the  hardships  under  which  he  had  begun  his  literary 
career  were  unfavourable  to  the  finer  susceptibilities  of  an  enthusi- 
astic nature.  So  long  as  the  spectators  applauded  he  was  satisfied. 
He  was  a  prolific  writer  ;  130  plays  are  attributed  to  him,  but  their 
genuineness  was  the  subject  of  discussion  from  a  very  early  period. 
Varro  finally  decided  in  favour  of  only  21,  to  which  he  added  19 
more  as  probably  genuine,  the  rest  he  pronounced  uncertain.  We 
may  join  him  in  regarding  it  as  very  probable  that  the  plays  falsely 
attributed  to  Plautus  were  productions  of  his  own  and  the  next 
generation,  which  for  business  reasons  the  managers  allowed  to  pass 
under  the  title  of  "  Plautine."  Or,  perhaps,  Plautus  may  have  given 
a  few  touches  and  the  benefit  of  his  great  name  to  the  plays  of  hia 
less  celebrated  contemporaries,  much  as  the  great  Italian  painters 
used  the  services  of  their  pupils  to  multiply  their  own  works. 

Of  the  20  plays  that  we  possess  (the  entire  Yarronian  list,  ex- 
cept the  Vidularia,  which  was  lost  in  the  Middle  Ages)  all  have  the 
same  general  character,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  Amphitruo. 
This  is  more  of  a  burlesque  than  a  comedy,  and  is  full  of  humour. 
It  is  founded  on  the  well-worn  fable  of  Jupiter  and  Alcmena,  and 
has  been  imitated  by  Moliere  and  Dryden.  Its  source  is  uncertain; 
but  it  is  probably  from  Archippus,  a  writer  of  the  old  comedy  (415 
a  a).    Its  form  suggests  rather  a  development  of  the  Satyric  drama. 

The  remaining  plays  are  based  on  real  life ;  the  real  life  that 
is  pourtrayed  by  Menander,  and  by  no  means  yet  established  in 
Kome,  though  soon  to  take  root  there  with  far  more  disastrous  con- 
sequences— the  life  of  imbecile  fathers  made  only  to  be  duped, 
and  spendthrift  sons ;  of  jealous  husbands,  and  dull  wives ;  of 
witty,  cunning,  and  wholly  unscrupulous  slaves  ;  of  parasites,  lost 
to  all  self-respect ;  of  traffickers  in  vice  of  both  sexes,  sometimes 
cringing,  sometimes  threatening,  but  almost  always  outwitted  by  a 
duplicity  superior  to  their  own ;  of  members  of  the  demi-momfo, 
whose  beauty  is  only  equalled  by  their  shameless  venality,  though 
some  of  them  enlist  our  sympathies  by  constancy  in  love,  others  by 
unmerited  sufferings  (which,  however,  always  end  happily)  ;  and 

1  iii.  3,  14. 


PIAUTUS.  45 

finally,  of  an  array  cf  cooks,  go-betweens,  confidants,  and  nonde- 
scripts, who  will  do  any  thing  for  a  dinner — a  life,  in  short,  that 
suggests  a  gloomy  idea  of  the  state  into  which  the  once  manly  and 
high-minded  Athenians  had  sunk. 

It  may,  however,  be  questioned  whether  Plautus  did  not  exceed 
his  models  in  licentiousness,  as  he  certainly  fell  below  them  in 
elegance.  The  drama  has  always  been  found  to  exercise  a  decided 
influence  on  public  morals ;  and  at  Rome,  where  there  was  no 
authoritative  teaching  on  the  subject,  and  no  independent  investi- 
gation of  the  foundations  of  moral  truth,  a  series  of  brilliant  plays, 
in  which  life  was  regarded  as  at  best  a  dull  affair,  rendered  tolerable 
by  coarse  pleasures,  practical  jokes,  and  gossip,  and  then  only  as 
long  as  the  power  of  enjoyment  lasts,  can  have  had  no  good  effect 
on  the  susceptible  minds  of  the  audience.  The  want  of  respect  for 
age,  again,  so  alien  to  old  Eoman  feeling,  was  an  element  imported 
from  the  Greeks,  to  whom  at  all  times  the  contemplation  of  old  age 
presented  the  gloomiest  associations.  But  it  must  have  struck  at 
the  rout  of  all  Roman  traditions  to  represent  the  aged  father  in  any 
but  a  venerable  light ;  and  inimitable  as  Plautus  is  as  a  humourist, 
we  cannot  regard  him  as  one  who  either  elevates  his  own  art,  or  in 
any  way  represents  the  nobler  aspect  of  the  Roman  mind. 

The  conventional  refinement  with  which  Menander  invested  hia 
characters,  and  which  was  so  happily  reproduced  by  Terence,  wag 
not  attempted  by  Plautus.  His  excellence  lies  rather  in  the  bold 
and  natural  flow  of  his  dialogue,  fuller,  perhaps,  of  spicy  humour 
and  broad  fun  than  of  wit,  but  of  humour  and  fun  so  lighthearted 
and  spontaneous  that  the  soberest  reader  is  carried  away  by  it.  In 
the  construction  of  his  plots  he  shows  no  great  originality,  though 
often  much  ingenuity.  Sometimes  they  are  adopted  without 
change,  as  that  of  the  Trinummus  from  the  ®rja-avp6s  of  Philemon  ; 
sometimes  they  are  patched  together1  from  two  or  more  Greek 
plays,  as  is  probably  the  case  with  the  Epidicus  and  Captivi ; 
sometimes  they  are  so  slight  as  to  amount  to  little  more  than  a  peg 
on  which  to  hang  the  witty  speeches  of  the  dialogue,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, those  of  the  Persa  and  Curculio. 

The  Menaechmi  and  Trinummus  are  the  best  known  of  his 
plays  ;  the  former  would  be  hard  to  parallel  for  effective  humour  : 
the  point  on  which  the  plot  turns,  viz.  the  resemblance  between  two 
pairs  of  brothers,  which  causes  one  to  be  mistaken  for  the  other, 
and  so  leads  to  many  ludicrous  scenes,  is  familiar  to  all  readers  of 
Shakespeare  from  the  Comedy  of  Errors.     Of  those  plays  which 

1  This  process  is  called  contamination.  It  was  necessitated  by  the  fond- 
ness of  a  Roman  audieDee  for  plenty  of  action,  and  their  indifl  trence  to  in^w 
dialogue. 


46  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

border  on  the  sentimental  the  best  is  the  Captivi,  "which  the  poet 
nimself  recommends  to  the  audience  on  the  score  of  its  gcod  moral 
lesson,  adding  with  truth — 

'*  Huiusmodi  paucas  poetae  reperiunt  comoedias 
Ubi  boni  meliores  fiaut." 

"We  are  told1  that  Plautus  took  the  greatest  pleasure  in  his  Psei* 
dolus,  which  was  also  the  work  of  his  old  age.  The  Epidicus  also 
must  have  been  a  favourite  with  him.  There  is  an  allusion  to  it 
in  the  Bacchides,2  which  shows  that  authors  then  were  as  much 
distressed  by  the  incapacity  of  the  actors  as  they  are  now. 

"  Non  hems  sed  actor  mihi  cor  odio  sauciat. 

Etiam  Epidicum  quam  ego  fabulum  aeque  ac  me  ipsum  amo 
Nullam  aeque  invitus  specto,  si  agit  Pellio." 

The  prologues  prefixed  to  nearly  all  the  plays  are  interesting  from 
th«ir  fidelity  to  the  Greek  custom,  whereas  those  of  Terence  are 
moie  personal,  and  so  resemble  the  modern  prologue.  In  the  former 
we  see  the  arch  insinuating  pleasantry  of  Plautus  employed  for  the 
purpose  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  spectators,  a  result  which, 
we  may  be  sure,  he  finds  little  difficulty  in  achieving.  Among 
the  other  plays,  the  Poeitulus  possesses  for  the  philologist  this 
special  attraction,  that  it  contains  a  Phoenician  passage,  which, 
though  rather  carelessly  transliterated,  is  the  longest  fragment 
we  possess  of  that  important  Semitic  language.3  All  the  Plautine 
plays  belong  to  the  Palliatae,  i.e.  those  of  which  the  entire 
surroundings  are  Greek,  the  name  being  taken  from  the  Pallium  or 
Greek  cloak  worn  by  the  actors.  There  was,  however,  in  the  Italian 
towns  a  species  of  comedy  founded  on  Greek  models  but  national 
in  dress,  manners,  and  tone,  known  as  Comoedia  Togata,  of  which 
Titinius  was  the  greatest  master.  The  Amphitruo  is  somewhat 
difficult  to  class  ;  if,  as  has  been  suggested  above,  it  be  assigned  to 
the  old  comedy,  it  will  be  a  Pall  lata.  If,  as  others  think,  it  be 
rather  a  specimen  of  the  tAapo-rpaywSta,4  or  Rldnthov.ica  (so  called 
from  Khinthon  of  Tarentum),  it  would  form  the  only  existing 
specimen  of  another  class,  called  by  the  Greeks  'JtoAikt)  Ku>fxu)$ia. 
Horace  speaks  of  Plautus  as  a  follower  of  Epicharmus,  and  his 
plots  were  frequently  taken  from  mythological  subjects.  With 
regard,  however,  to  the  other  plays  of  Plautus,  as  well  as  those  of 
Caecilius,  Trabea,  Licinius  Imbrex,  Luscius  Lavinius,  Terence  and 
Turpilius,  there  is  no  ground  for  supposing  that  they  departed 
from  the  regular  treatment  of  palliatae.5 

*  Cic.  de,  Sen.  50.  ■  ii.  2,  35.  »  Poen.  v.  1. 

4  Plautus  himself  calls  it  Tragico-comoedia. 

8  We  find  in  Donatus  the  term  crepidata,   which  seems  equivalent  tf 
palliata,    though   it  probably  was  extended    to   tragedy,   which  palliaU 


PLAUTUS.  47 

IMautus  is  a  complete  master  of  tlie  Latin  language  in  it.  mote 
colloquial  forms.  "Whatever  he  wishes  to  say  he  finds  nc 
difficulty  in  expressing  without  the  least  shadow  of  obscurity. 
Hi  .3  full,  flowing  style,  his  inexhaustible  wealth  of  words,  the 
pliancy  which  in  his  skilful  hands  is  given  to  the  comparatively 
rude  instrument  with  which  he  works,  are  remarkable  in  the 
highest  degree.  In  the  invention  of  new  words,  and  the  fertility 
of  his  combinations,1  he  reminds  us  of  Shakespeare,  and  far 
exceeds  any  other  Latin  author.  But  perhaps  this  faculty  is  not 
so  much  absent  from  subsequent  writers  as  kept  in  check  by  them. 
They  felt  that  Latin  gained  more  by  terse  arrangement  and  exact 
fitness  in  the  choice  of  existing  terms,  than  by  coining  new  ones 
after  the  Greek  manner.  Plautus  represents  a  tendency,  which, 
after  him,  steadily  declines ;  Lucretius  is  more  sparing  of  new 
compounds  than  Ennius,  Virgil  thin  Lucretius,  and  after  Virgil 
the  age  of  creating  them  had  ceased. 

It  must  strike  every  reader  of  Plautus,  as  worthy  of  note,  that 
he  assumes  a  certain  knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue  on  the  part 
of  his  audience.  Not  only  are  many  (chiefly  commercial)  terms 
directly  imported  from  the  Greek,  as  dica,  turpessita,  log?\ 
sycophantic),  agoranomus,  but  a  large  number  of  Greek  adjectives 
and  adverbs  are  used,  which  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  formed 
part  of  the  general  speech  —  e.g.  thalassic-us,  euscheme,  dulice, 
dapsilis :  Greek  puns  are  introduced,  as,  "  opus  est  Chrysc 
Chrysalo"  in  the  Bacchides ;  and  in  the  Persa  we  have  the 
following  hybrid  title  of  a  supposed  Persian  grandee,  "  Vaniloqui- 
doras  Virgin isvendonides  Nutjipolyloquides  Argenticxterebronidei 
Tedigniloqidd.es  Nummorumexpalponides  Quodsemelarrijndes  Nun* 
qaamjjosteareddides  /  n 

Nevertheless,  Plautus  never  uses  Greek  words  in  the  way  so 
justly  condemned  by  Horace,  viz.  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  thinking 
out  the  proper  Latin  equivalent.  He  is  as  free  from  this  bad 
habit  as  Cato  himself :  all  his  Graecisms,  when  not  technical 
terms,  have  some  humourous  point ;  and,  as  far  as  we  can  judge, 
the  good  example  set  by  him  was  followed  by  all  his  successors 
in  the  comic  drama.  Their  superiority  in  this  respect  may  be 
appreciated  by  comparing  them  with  the  extant  fragments  oi 
Lucilius. 

apparently  was  not.  Trabeata,  a  term  mentioned  by  Suet,  in  his  Treatise 
de  Gram  mat.  seems  =  praetextata,  at  all  events  it  refers  to  a  play  with  national 
characters  of  an  exalted  rank. 

1  E.g  trahax,  perenniservus,  contortiplicati,  parcipromus,  pn/gnariter,  and 
3,  hundied  others.  In  Pseud,  i.  5  ;  ii.  4,  22,  we  have  x°-Plv  TovTtp  -noiot,  va* 
'vho.  kpI  tovto  5h,  an  I  other  Greek  modes  of  transition.     Cf.Pers.  ii   1,  79. 


48  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

In  his  metres  he  follows  the  Greek  systems,  but  somewhat 
loosely.  His  iambics  admit  spondees,  &c.  into  all  places  but  the 
last ;  but  some  of  his  plays  show  much  more  care  than  others : 
the  Persa  and  Stichus  being  the  least  accurate,  the  Menaechmi 
peculiarly  smooth  and  harmonious.  The  Trochaic  tetrameter  and 
tliG  Cretic  are  also  favourite  rhythms ;  the  former  is  well  suited 
to  the  Latin  language,  its  beat  being  much  more  easily  dis- 
tinguishable in  a  rapid  dialogue  than  that  of  the  Iambic  His 
metre  is  regulated  partly  by  quantity,  partly  by  accent ;  but  his 
quantities  do  not  vary  as  much  as  has  been  supposed.  The 
irregularities  consist  chiefly  of  neglect  of  the  laws  of  position,  of 
final  long  vowels,  of  inflexional  endings,  and  of  double  letters, 
which  last,  according  to  some  grammarians,  were  not  used  until 
the  time  of  Ennius.  His  Lyric  metres  are  few,  and  very  im- 
perfectly elaborated.  Those  which  he  prefers  are  the  Cretic  and 
Bacchiac,  though  Dactylic  and  Choriambic  systems  are  not  wholly 
unknown.  His  works  form  a  most  valuable  storehouse  of  old 
Latin  words,  idioms,  and  inflexions;  and  now  that  the  most 
ancient  MSS.  have  been  scientifically  studied,  the  true  spelling 
of  these  forms  has  been  re-established,  and  throws  the  greatest 
light  on  many  important  questions  of  philology.1 

After  Plautus  the  most  distinguished  writer  of  comedy  was 
Statius  Caecilius  (219-1661  b.c),  a  native  of  Insubria,  brought 
as  a  prisoner  to  Eome,  and  subsequently  (we  know  not  exactly 
when)  manumitted.  He  began  writing  about  200  a  c,  when  Plautus 
was  at  the  height  of  his  fame.  He  was,  doubtless,  influenced  (as 
indeed  could  not  but  be  the  case)  by  the  prestige  of  so  great  a  master; 
but,  as  soon  as  he  had  formed  his  own  style,  he  seems  to  have  carried 
out  a  treatment  of  the  originals  much  more  nearly  resembling  that 
of  Terence.  For  while  in  Plautus  some  of  the  oddest  incongruities 
arise  from  the  continual  intrusion  of  Eoman  law-terms  and  othei 
everyday  home  associations  into  the  Athenian  agora  or  dicasterieSy 
in  Terence  this  effective  but  very  inartistic  source  of  humour  is 
altogether  discarded,  and  the  comic  result  gained  solely  by  the 
legitimate  methods  of  incident,  character,  and  dialogue.  That 
this  stricter  practice  was  inaugurated  by  Caecilius  is  probable, 
both  from  the  praise  bestowed  on  him  in  spite  of  his  deficiency  in 
purity   of  Latin  style  by  Cicero,2  and   also   from  the   evident 

1  One  needs  but  to  mention  forms  like  danunt,  ministrtis,  hibus,  sacres, 
postidea  dehibcre,  &c.  and  constructions  ^ke  quicquam  uti,  istanc  taetio, 
quid  tute  tecum  1  Nihil  enim,  and  counciess  others,  to  understand  thi 
primary  importance  of  Plautus's  works  for  a  historical  study  of  the  develop 
went  of  the  Latin  language. 

»  De  Opt.  Gen.  Or.  1  ;  cf.  Att.  vii.  3,  10. 


ROMAN  COMEDY — CAEC1LIUS.  49 

admiration  felt  for  him  by  Terence.  The  prologue  to  the  Hccyra 
proves  (what  we  might  have  well  supposed)  that  the  earlier  playa 
of  such  a  poet  had  a  severe  struggle  to  achieve  success.1  The 
actor,  Ambivius  Turpio,  a  tried  servant  of  the  public,  maintaina 
that  his  own  perseverance  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  final 
victory  of  Caecilius ;  and  he  apologises  for  bringing  forward  a 
play  which  had  once  been  rejected,  by  his  former  success  in 
similar  circumstances.  Horace  implies  that  he  maintained  during 
the  Augustan  age  the  reputation  of  a  dignified  writer.2  Of  the 
thirty -nine  titles  of  his  plays,  by  far  the  larger  number  are  Greek, 
though  a  few  are  Latin,  or  exist  in  both  languages.  Those  of 
Plautus  and  Naevius,  it  will  be  observed,  are  almost  entirely 
Latin.  This  practice  of  retaining  the  Greek  title,  indicating,  as 
it  probably  does,  a  closer  adherence  to  the  Greek  style,  seems 
afterwards  to  have  become  the  regular  custom.  In  his  later  years 
Caecilius  enjoyed  great  reputation,  and  seems  to  have  been  almost 
dictator  of  the  Roman  stage,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  story 
given  by  Suetonius  in  his  life  of  Terence.  One  evening,  he  tells 
us,  as  Caecilius  was  at  dinner,  the  young  poet  called  on  him,  and 
begged  for  his  opinion  on  the  Andria,  which  he  had  just  composed. 
Unknown  to  fame  and  meanly  dressed,  he  was  bidden  to  seat 
himself  on  a  bench  and  read  his  work.  Scarcely  had  he  read  a 
few  verses,  when  Caecilius,  struck  by  the  excellence  of  the  style, 
invited  his  visitor  to  join  him  at  table ;  and  having  listened  to 
the  rest  of  the  play  with  admiration,  at  once  pronounced  a  verdict 
in  his  favour.  This  anecdote,  whatever  be  its  pretensions  to 
historical  accuracy,  represents,  at  all  events,  the  conception  enter- 
tained of  Caecilius's  position  and  influence  as  introducer  of 
dramatic  poets  to  the  Eoman  public.  The  date  of  his  death  is 
uncertain  :  he  seems  not  to  have  attained  any  great  age. 

The  judgment  of  Caecilius  on  Terence  was  ratified  by  the 
people.  When  the  Andria  was  first  presented  at  the  Megalesian 
games  (166  b.c.)  it  was  evident  that  a  new  epoch  had  arisen  in 
Roman  art.  The  contempt  displayed  in  it  for  all  popular  methods 
of  acquiring  applause  is  scarcely  less  wonderful  than  the  formed 
style  and  mature  view  of  life  apparent  in  the  poet  of  twenty-one 
years. 

It  was  received  with  favour,  and  though  occasional  failurei 
afterwards  occurred,  chiefly  through  tie  jealousy  of  a  rival  poet 

I  -in  eis  ^as  primum  Caecili  didici  novas 
Partim  sum  earum  exactus,  part'm  vix  stetL 

.... 
Perf eci  ut  spectarentur :  ubi  sunt  cognltae 
Placitae  sunt "  —jfyoj.  j^  14, 

5  Hor.  Ep.  ii.  1,  59       Vinccre  Caecilius  gravitate. 


50  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  dramatic  career  of  Terence  may,  nevertheless,  be  pronounced  at 
brilliantly  successful  as  it  was  shortlived.    His  fame  increased  with 
each  succeeding  play,  till  at  the  time  of  his  early  death,  he  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  and,  in  spite  of  petty  rival- 
ries, enjoying  a  reputation  almost  equal  to  that  of  Plaulus  himself. 
The  elegance  and  purity  of  his  diction  is  the  more  remarkable 
as  he  was  a  Carthaginian  by  birth,  and  therefore  spoke  an  idiom 
as  diverse  as  can  be  conceived  from  the  Latin  in  syntax,  arrange- 
ment, and  expression.     He  came  ah.  a  boy  to  Rome,  where  he  lived 
as  the  slave  of  the  senator  Terentius  Lucanus,  by  whom  he  was 
•veil  educated  and  soon  given  his  freedom.     The  best  known  fact 
about  him  is  his  intimate  friendship  with  Scipio  African  us  the 
younger,  Laeiius,  and  Furius,  who  were  reported  to  have  helped 
him  in  the  composition  of  his  plays.     This   rumour   the   poet 
touches  on  with  great  skill,  neither  admitting  nor  denying  its 
truth,  but  handling  it  in  such  a  way  as  reflected  no  discredit  on 
himself  and  could  not  fail  to  be  acceptable  to  the  great  men  who 
were  his  patrons.1     We  learn  from   Suetonius   that   the  belief 
strengthened  with  time.     To  us  it  appears  most  improbable  that 
anything  important  was  contributed  by  these  eminent  men.    They 
might  have  given  hints,  and  perhaps  suggested  occasional  expres- 
sions, but  the  temptation  to  bring  their  names  forward  seems 
sufficiently  to  account  for  the  lines  in  question,  since  the  poet 
gained  rather  than  lost  by  so   doing.      It   has,  however,  been 
supposed   that  Scipio  and  his  friends,   desiring  to  elevate  the 
popular  taste,  really  employed  Terence  to  effect  this  for  them, 
their  own  position  as  statesmen  preventing  their  coming  forward 
in  person  as  labourers  in  literature ;  and  it  is  clear  that  Terence 
has  a  very  different  object  before  him  from  that  of  Plautus.     The 
latter  cares  only  to  please ;  the  former  is  not  satisfied  unless  he 
instructs.     And  he  is  conscious  that  this  endeavour  gains  him 
undeserved  obloquy.     All  his  prologues  speak  of  bitter  opposi- 
tion, misrepresentation,  and  dislike ;  but  he  refuses  to  lower  his 
high  conception  of  his  art.     The  people  must  hear  his  plays  with 
attention,  throw  away  their  prejudices,  and  pronounce  impartially 
on  his  merits.2     He  has  such  confidence  in  his  own  view  that  he 
does  not  doubt  of  the  issue.     It  is  only  a  question  of  time,  and 

1  Adelpb.  prol. : 

**  Nam  quod  isti  dictnit  malevoli,  homines  nobiles 
Hunc  adiatare.  assidueque  una  scribere; 
Quod  illi  maledictum  vehemens  existimant, 
Earn  1-iudem  hie  duclt  maximam:  cim  illis  placoS^ 
Qui  vo''is  univeisis  et  populo  placent: 
Quorum  op^ra  in  bello,  in  otio,  in  negotio 
Suo  quisque  tempore  usus  est  sine  superbta." 

*  8ee  x>rol.  to  Andria 


ROMAN  COMEDY — TERENCE.  51 

if  hi&  contemporaries  refuse  to  appreciate  him,  posterity  will  not 
fail  to  do  so.  This  confidence  was  fully  justified.  Not  only  his 
friends  but  the  public  amply  recognised  his  genius ;  and  if  men 
like  Cicero,  Horace,,  and  Caesar,  do  not  grant  him  the  highest 
creative  power,  they  at  least  speak  with  admiration  of  his  culti- 
vated taste.  The  criticism  of  Cicero  is  as  discriminating  aa  it  is 
friendly : l 

"  Tu  quoque,  qui  solus  lecto  sermone  Terenti, 

Conversum  expressumque  Latina  voce  Menandrum 

In  medio  populi  sedatis  vocibus  effers  ; 

Quidquid  come  loquens  atque  omnia  dulcia  dicens." 

Caesar,  in^  a  better  known  epigram,2  is  somewhat  less  compli- 
mentary, but  calls  him  puri  sermorris  amator  ("  a  well  of  English 
undefiled  ").  Varro  praises  his  commencement  of  the  Andria 
above  its  original  in  Menander;  and  if  this  indicates  national 
partisanship,  it  is  at  least  a  testimony  to  the  poet's  posthumous 
fame. 

The  modern  character  of  Terence,  as  contrasted  with  Plautus,  is 
less  apparent  in  his  language  than  in  his  sentiments.  His  Latin 
is  substantially  the  same  as  that  of  Plautus,  though  he  makes 
immeasurably  fewer  experiments  with  language.  He  never  re- 
sorts to  strange  words,  uncouth  compounds,  puns,  or  Graecisms  for 
producing  effect ; 3  his  diction  is  smooth  and  chaste,  and  even  in 
delicate  subjects  are  alluded  to  without  any  violation  of  the  pro- 
prieties ;  indeed  it  is  at  first  surprising  that  with  so  few  appeals 
to  the  humourous  instinct  and  so  little  witty  dialogue,  Terence's 
comic  style  should  have  received  from  the  first  such  high  commenda- 
tion. The  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  circumstances  of  the  time. 
The  higher  spirits  at  Eome  were  beginning  to  comprehend  the  drift 
of  Greek  culture,  its  subtle  mastery  over  the  passions,  its  humani- 
tarian character,  its  subversive  influence.  The  protest  against 
traditional  exclusiveness  begun  by  the  great  Scipio,  and  power- 
fully enforced  by  Ennius,  was  continued  in  a  less  heroic  but  not 
less  effective  manner  by  the  younger  Scipio  and  his  friends 
Lucilius  and  Terence.  All  the  plays  of  Terence  are  written  with 
a  purpose ;  and  the  purpose  is  the  same  which  animated  tiit 
political  leaders  of  free  thought.  To  base  conduce  upon  reason 
rather  than  tradition,  and  paternal  authority  upon  kindness  rather 
than  fear ; 4  to  give  up  the  vain  attempt  to  coerce  youth  into  the 
narrow  path  of  age ;  to  grapple  with  life  as  a  whole  by  making 

1  Suet.  Vit.  Ter. 

*  Tu  quoque  tu  in  summis,  o  dimniiate  Menander,  poneris,  &c. — lb. 
s  Possibly  the  following  may  be  exceptions  : — Andr.  218 ;  Haut.  ^.18  356 i 
Hec.  543.     See  Teuffel. 
4  Se.e  the  first  scene  of  the  Adelphoe 


52  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  best  of  each  difficulty  when  it  arises ;  to  live  in  comfort  by 
means  of  mutual  concession  and  not  to  plague  ourselves  with 
unnecessary  troubles  :  such  are  some  of  the  principles  indicated  in 
those  plays  of  Menander  which  Terence  so  skilfully  adapted,  and 
whose  lessons  he  set  before  a  younger  and  more  vigorous  people. 
The  elucidation  of  these  principles  in  the  action  of  the  play,  and 
the  corresponding  interchange  of  thought  naturally  awakened  in 
the  dialogue  and  expressed  with  studied  moderation,1  form  the 
charm  of  the  Torentian  drama.  In  the  bolder  elements  of 
dramatic  excellence  it  must  be  pronouned  deficient.  There  is  not 
Menander's  many-sided  knowledge  of  the  world,  nor  the  racy 
v..  roll  cry  of  Plautus,  nor  the  rich  humour  of  Moliere,  nor  the 
sparkling  wit  of  Sheridan, — all  is  toned  down  with  a  severe  self- 
restraint,  creditable  to  the  poet's  sense  of  propriety,  but  injurious 
to  comic  effect.  His  characters  also  lack  variety,  though  power- 
fully conceived.  They  are  easily  classified ;  indeed,  Terence  him- 
self summarises  them  in  his  prologue  to  the  Eunuchus?  and  as  a 
rule  is  true  to  the  distinctions  there  laid  down.  Another  defect 
is  the  great  similarity  of  names.  There  is  a  Chromes  in  four 
plays  who  stands  for  an  old  man  in  three,  for  a  youth  in  one ; 
while  the  names  Sostrata,  Sophrona,  Bacchis,  Antipho,  Hegio, 
Phaedria,  Davits,  and  Dromo,  all  occur  in  more  than  one  piece. 
Thus  we  lose  that  close  association  of  a  name  with  a  character, 
which  is  a  most  important  aid  towards  lively  and  definite  recol- 
lection. The  characters  become  not  so  much  individuals  as 
impersonations  of  social  or  domestic  relationships,  though  drawn, 
it  is  true,  with  a  life-like  touch.  This  defect,  which  is  shared  to  a 
great  extent  by  Plautus,  is  doubtless  due  to  the  imitative  nature 
of  Latin  comedy.  Menander's  characters  were  analysed  and 
classified  by  the  critics,  and  the  translator  felt  bound  to  keep  to 
the  main  outlines  of  his  model.  It  is  said  that  Terence  was  not 
satisfied  with  his  delineation  of  Greek  life,  but  that  shortly  before 
his  death  he  started  on  a  voyage  to  Greece,  to  acquaint  himself  at 
first  hand  with  the  manners  he  depicted.3  This  we  can  well 
believe,  for  even  among  Roman  poets  Terence  is  conspicuous  for 
his  striking  realism.  His  scenes  are  fictitious,  it  is  true,  and  his 
conversation  is  classical  and  refined,  but  both  breathe  the  very 
spirit  of  real  life.  There  is,  at  least,  nothing  either  ideal  oi 
imaginative  about  them.  The  remark  of  Horace4  that  "  Pom- 
ponio  would  have  to  listen  to  rebukes  like  those  of  Demea  if  hij 

1  M€Tpt<^Tijs,  the  quality  so  much  admired  hy  the  Greek  critics,  in  which 
Horace  may  be  compared  with  Terence.     Cf.  Aul.  Gell.  vi.  (or  vii  )  14,  6. 
M.  37,  sqq.  3  Suet.  Vit.  Ter. 

4  Sat.  1,  4,  53,  referring  to  the  scene  in  the  Adrlphoe. 


KOMAJN  COMEDY — TERENCE.  53 

father  were  living ;  that  if  you  broke  up  the  elegant  rhythmical 
language  you  would  find  only  what  every  angry  parent  would 
8ay  under  the  same  circumstances,"  is  perfectly  just,  and  constitutes 
one  of  the  chief  excellences  of  Terence, — one  which  has  made 
him,  like  Horace,  a  favourite  with  experienced  men  of  the  world. 

Terence  as  a  rule  does  not  base  his  play  upon  a  single  Greek 
original,  but  levies  contributions  from  two  or  more,  and  exercises 
his  talent  vi  harmonising  the  different  elements.  This  process  is 
known  as  contamination  /  a  word  that  first  occurs  in  the  prologue 
to  the  Andria,  and  indicates  an  important  and  useful  principle  in 
imitative  dramatic  literature.  The  ground  for  this  innovation  is 
given  by  W.  Wagner  as  the  need  felt  by  a  Eoman  audience  for 
a  quick  succession  of  action,  and  their  impatience  of  those  subtle 
dialogues  which  the  Greeks  had  so  much  admired,  and  which  in 
most  Greek  plays  occupy  a  somewhat  disproportionate  length.  The 
dramas  in  which  "  contamination  "  is  most  successfully  used  are, 
the  Eunuchus,  Andria,  and  Adelphoe;  the  last-mentioned  being  the 
only  instance  in  which  the  two  models  are  by  different  authors,  vi  i 
the  'ASeA^ot  of  Menander  and  the  ^wairoOvqa-Kovr^  of  Dij  hiku. 
So  far  as  the  metre  and  language  went,  Terence  seems  to  have 
followed  the  Greek  much  more  closely  than  Plautus,  as  was  to 
be  expected  from  his  smaller  inventive  power.  Quintilian,  in 
commending*  him,  expresses  a  wish  that  he  had  confined  himself 
to  the  trimeter  iambic  rhythm.  To  us  this  criticism  is  somewhat 
obscure.  Did  the  Romans  require  a  more  forcible  style  when  the 
long  iambic  or  the  trochaic  was  employed  1  or  is  it  the  weakness 
of  his  metrical  treatment  that  Quintilian  complains  of  1  Certainly 
the  trochaics  of  Terence  are  less  clearly  marked  in  their  rhythm 
than  those  of  Ennius  or  Plautus. 

Terence  makes  no  allusion  by  name  to  any  of  his  contemporaries  ;x 
but  a  line  in  the  Andria2  is  generally  supposed  to  refer  to 
Caecilius,  and  to  indicate  his  friendiy  feeling,  somewhat  as  Virgil 
indicates  his  admiration  for  Ennius  in  the  opening  of  the  third 
Georgic.3  And  the  "vetus  poeta,"  (Luscius  Lavinius)  or  "  quidum 
malevoli,"  are  alluded  to  in  all  the  prologues  as  trying  to  injure  his 
fame.     His  first  play  was  produced  in  the  year  that  Caecilius  died, 

1  Except  in  the  prologues  to  the  Eun.  and  Hecyra. 

9  805,  "ut  quimus  "  aiunt,  "  quando  ut  volumus  non  licet.**    The  line  oi 

Caecilius  is  "  Vivas  ut  possis  quando  non  quis  ut  velis." 

9  Georg.  iii.  9. 

"  Tentanda  via  est  qua  me  quoqte  possim 
Toll  ere  humo  victorque  virum  volitare  per  ora." 

He  expresses  his  aspiration  after  immortality  in  the  same  terms  that  Enniot 
had  employed. 


54  HISTORY  OF  KOM  LN  LITERATURE. 

166  B.O. ;  the  Ilecyra  next  year ;  the  Hauton  Timorumenos  in  163  \ 
the  Eunuchus  and  Phormio  in  161 ;  the  Adelplwe  in  160 ;  and  in 
the  following  year  the  poet  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  while 
sailing  round  the  coast  of  Greece.  The  maturity  of  mind  shown 
by  so  young  a  man  is  very  remarkable.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  he  belonged  to  a  race  whose  faculties  developed  earlier  than 
among  the  Romans,  that  he  had  been  a  slave,  and  was  therefore 
familial  with  more  than  one  aspect  of  life,  and  that  he  had  enjoyed 
the  society  of  the  greatest  in  Rome,  who  reflected  profoundly  on 
social  and  political  questions.  His  influence,  though  imperfectly 
exercised  in  his  lifetime,  increased  after  his  death,  not  so  much 
through  the  representation  as  the  reading  of  his  plays.  His 
language  became  one  of  the  chief  standards  of  classical  Latin,  and 
is  regarded  by  Mr  Munro  as  standing  on  the  very  highest  level 
— the  same  as  that  of  Cicero,  Caesar,  and  Lucretius.  His  moral 
character  was  assailed  soon  after  his  death  by  Porcius  Licinius, 
but  probably  without  good  grounds.  More  might  be  said  against 
the  morality  of  his  plays — the  morality  of  accommodation,  as  it  is 
called  by  Mommsen.  There  is  no  strong  grasp  of  the  moral  prin- 
ciple, but  decency  and  propriety  should  be  respected ;  if  an  error 
has  been  committed,  the  best  way  is,  if  possible,  to  find  out  that 
it  was  no  error  after  all,  or  at  least  to  treat  it  as  such.  In  no  point 
does  ancient  comedy  stand  further  apart  from  modern  ideas  than 
in  its  view  of  married  life ;  the  wile  is  invariably  the  dull  legal 
partner,  love  for  whom  is  hardly  thought  of,  while  the  sentiment 
of  love  (if  indeed  it  be  worthy  of  the  name)  is  reserved  for  the 
Bacchis  and  Thais,  who,  in  the  most  popular  plays  turn  out  io  be 
Attic  citizens,  and  so  are  finally  united  to  the  fortunate  lover. 

But  defective  and  erroneous  as  these  views  are,  we  must  not 
suppose  that  Tereace  tries  to  make  vice  attractive.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  distinctly  says  that  it  is  useful  to  know  things  as  they 
really  are  for  the  purpose  of  learning  to  choose  the  good  and 
reject  the  evil.1  Moreover,  his  lover  is  never  a  mere  profligate, 
but  proves  the  reality  of  his  affection  for  the  victim  of  his  wrong- 
doing by  his  readiness  and  anxiety  in  all  cases  to  become  her 
husband. 

Terence  has  suggested  many  modern  subjects.  The  Eunuchus 
is  reflected  in  the  Bellamira  of  Sir  Charles  Sedley  and  Le  Muet 
of  Brueys ;  the  Adelphi  in  Moliere's  Ecole  des  Maris  and  Baron's 
VEcole  des  Peres  ;  and  the  Phormio  in  Moliere's  Les  Fourberies 
de  Scapin. 

We  need  do  no  more  thau  just  notice  the  names  of  Luaoius 

'  Eun.  v.  iv. 


ROMAN  COMEDY — TOGATAE.  55 

Lavinius,1  th3  older  rival  and  detractor  of  Terence ;  Atilius,  whose 
style  is  characterised  by  Cicero2  as  extremely  harsh  ;  Trabea,  whc, 
like  Atilius,  was  a  contemporary  of  Caecilius,  and  Licinius  Imbrex, 
who  belonged  to  the  older  generation  ;  Turpilius,  Juventius,  and 
Valerius,3  who  lived  to  a  considerably  later  period.  The  formei 
died  as  late  as  103  b.c,  having  thus  quite  outlived  the  productive- 
ness of  the  legitimate  dramatic  art.  He  seems  to  have  been 
livelier  and  more  popular  in  his  diction  than  Terence;  it  is  to  te 
regretted  that  so  little  of  him  remains. 

The  earliest  cultivation  of  the  national  comedy  (togata)*  seems 
to  date  from  after  the  death  of  Terence.  Its  first  representative 
is  Titinius,  about  whom  we  know  little  or  nothing,  except  that  he 
based  his  plays  on  the  Attic  comedy,  changing,  however,  the  scene 
and  the  costumes.  The  pieces,  according  to  Mommsen,  were  laid 
in  Southern  Latium,  e.g.  Sstia,  Ferentinum,  or  Velitrae,  and  de- 
lineated with  peculiar  freshness  the  life  of  these  busy  little  towns. 
The  titles  of  his  comedies  are — Caecus,  Fullones,  Hortensiiis, 
Quintus,  Varus,  G&tnina,  Iurisperita,  Prilia,  Privigna,  Psaltria, 
Setiiia,  Tibicina,  Vditerna,  Ulubrana.  From  these  we  should 
infer  that  his  peculiar  excellence  lay  in  satirizing  the  weak- 
nesses of  the  other  sex.  As  we  have  before  implied,  this  type  of 
comedy  originally  arose  in  the  country  towns  and  maintained  a 
certain  antagonism  with  the  Graecized  comedy  of  Rome.  In  a  few 
years,  however,  we  find  it  established  in  the  city,  under  T. 
Quintius  Atta  and  L.  Afranius.  Of  the  former  little  is  known ;  of 
the  latter  we  know  that  he  was  esteemed  the  chief  poet  of  togatae, 
and  long  retained  his  hold  on  the  public.  Quintilian5  recognises 
his  talent,  but  condemns  the  morality  of  his  plays.  Horace  speaks 
of  him  as  wearing  a  gown  which  would  have  fitted  Menander,  but 
this  is  popular  estimation,  not  his  own  judgment.  Nevertheless, 
we  may  safely  assert  that  the  comedies  of  Afranius  and  Titinius, 
though  often  grossly  indecent,  had  a  thoroughly  rich  vein  of  native 
humour,  which  would  have  made  them  very  valuable  indication* 
of  the  average  popular  culture  of  their  day. 

1  Or  "  Lanuvinus."  Those  who  wish  to  know  the  inartistic  expedients  to 
which  he  resorted  to  gain  applause  should  read  the  prologues  of  Terence, 
which  are  most  valuable  materials  for  literary  criticism. 

1  Att.  xiv.  20,  3. 

8  Teuffel  103. 

4  Sometimes  cabled  Tabernaria,  Diomed  iii.  p.  488,  though  strictlj  speak- 
iug,  this  denoted  i  lower  and  more  provincial  type. 

■  x.  1,  100. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

"Somas  Tragedy  (Ennius — Accius,  239-94  B.a). 

As  the  Italian  talent  for  impromptu  buffoonery  might  perhaj* 
have  in  time  created  a  genuine  native  comedy,  so  the  power- 
ful and  earnest  rhetoric  in  which  the  deeper  feelings  of  the 
Roman  always  found  expression,  might  have  assumed  the  tragic 
garb  and  woven  itself  into  happy  and  original  alliance  with  the 
dramatic  instinct.  But  what  actually  happened  was  different. 
Tragedy,  as  well  as  comedy,  took  its  subjects  from  the  Greek ;  but 
though  comedy  had  the  advantage  of  a  far  greater  popularity,  and 
also  of  a  partially  native  origin,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
tragedy  came  the  nearer  of  the  two  to  a  really  national  form  of 
art.  In  the  fullest  and  noblest  sense  of  the  word  Rome  had 
indeed  no  national  drama ;  for  a  drama,  to  be  truly  representative, 
must  be  based  on  the  deepest  chords  of  patriotic  and  even  religious 
feeling.  And  that  golden  age  of  a  people's  history  when  Patriotism 
and  Religion  are  still  wedded  together,  seeming  but  varying  reflec- 
tions from  the  mirror  of  national  life,  is  the  most  favourable  of 
all  to  the  birth  of  dramatic  art.  In  Greece  this  was  pre-eminently 
the  case.  The  spirit  of  patriotism  is  ever  present — rarely,  indeed, 
suggesting,  as  in  the  Persae  of  Aeschylus,  the  subject  of  the  play, 
but  always  supplying  a  rich  background  of  common  sympathy 
where  poet  and  people  can  feel  and  rejoice  together.  Still  more, 
if  possible,  is  the  religious  spirit  present,  as  the  animating  influ- 
ence which  gives  the  drama  its  interest  and  its  vitality.  The 
great  moral  and  spiritual  questions  which  occupy  the  soul  of  man, 
in  each  play  or  series  of  plays,  try  to  work  out  their  own  solu- 
tion by  the  natural  human  action  of  the  characters,  and  by 
those  reflections  on  the  part  of  the  chorus  to  which  the  action 
naturally  gives  rise.  But  with  the  transplanted  tragedy  of 
the  Romans  this  could  no  longer  be  the  case.  The  religious 
ideas  which  spoke  straight  to  the  Athenian's  heart,  spoke  only 
to  the  acquired  learning  of  the  Roman.  The  idea  of  man,  himself 
free,  struggling  with  a  destiny  which  he  could  not  comprehend 


ROMAN  TRAGEDY.  57 

or  avert,  is  foreign  to  the  Eoman  conception  of  life.  A  a 
Schlegel  has  observed,  a  truly  Roman  tragic  drama  would  have 
found  an  altogether  different  basis.    The  binding  force  of  "  Religio," 

constraining  the  individual  to  surrender  himself  for  the  good  of 
the  Supreme  State,  and  realising  itself  in  acts  of  patriotic  self- 
devotion  ;  such  would  have  been  the  shape  we  bhould  have 
expected  Eoman  tragedy  to  take,  and  if  it  failed  to  do  this, 
we  should  not  expect  it  in  other  respects  to  be  a  great  success. 

The  strong  appreciation  which,  notwithstanding  its  initial 
defects,  tragedy  did  meet  with  and  retain  for  many  generations, 
is  a  striking  testimony  to  the  worth  and  talent  of  the  men  wdio 
introduced  it.  Their  position  as  elevators  of  the  popular  taste 
was  not  the  less  real  because  they  themselves  were  men  of 
provincial  birth,  and  only  partially  polished  minds.  Both  in 
the  selection  of  their  models  and  in  the  freedom  of  treating  them 
they  showed  that  good  sense  which  was  characteristic  of  the 
nation.  As  a  rule,  instead  of  trying  to  familiarise  the  people 
with  Aeschylus  and  Sophocles,  poets  who  are  essentially  Athenian, 
they  generally  chose  the  freethinking  and  cosmopolitan  Euripides, 
who  was  easily  intelligible,  and  whose  beauties  did  not  seem  so 
entirely  to  defy  imitation.  What  Euripides  was  to  Greek  tragedy 
Menander  was  to  comedy.  Both  denationalised  their  respective 
fields  ol  poetry;  both  thereby  acquired  a  vast  ascendancy  over 
the  Eoman  mind,  ready  as  it  was  to  be  taught,  and  only  awaiting 
a  teacher  whose  views  it  could  understand.  Now  although  Livius 
actually  introduced,  and  Naevius  continued,  the  translation  of 
tragedies  from  the  Greek,  it  was  Ennius  who  first  rendered  them 
with  a  definitely  conceived  purpose.  This  purpose  was — to  raise 
the  aesthetic  sense  of  his  countrymen,  to  set  before  them  examples 
of  heroic  virtue,  and,  above  all,  to  enlighten  their  minds  with 
what  he  considered  rational  views  on  subjects  of  morals  and 
and  religion ;  though,  after  all,  the  fatal  facility  with  which  the 
sceptical  theories  of  Euripides  were  disseminated  and  embraced 
was  hardly  atoned  for  by  the  gain  to  culture  which  undoubtedly 
resulted  from  the  tragedian's  laboars.  Mommsen  says  with 
truth  that  the  stage  is  in  its  essence  anti-Eoman,  just  as  culture 
itself  is  anti-Eoman ;  the  one  because  it  consumes  time  and 
interest  on  things  that  interfere  with  the  serious  business  of  life, 
the  other  because  it  creates  degrees  of  intellectual  position  where 
the  constitution  intended  that  all  should  be  alike.  But  amid  the 
vast  change  that  came  over  the  Eoman  habits  of  thought,  which 
men  like  Cato  saw,  resisted,  and  bewailed,  it  mattered  little 
whether  old  traditions  were  violated.  The  stage  at  once  became 
a  powerful  engine  of  popular  education  ;  and  it  rested  with  tli€ 


d8  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

poet  to  decide  whether  it  should  elevate  or  degrade.  Political 
interests,  it  is  true,  were  carefully  guarded.  The  police  system, 
with  which  senatorial  narrowness  environed  the  stage  as  it  did 
all  corporations  or  voluntary  societies,  rigidly  repressed  and  made 
penal  anything  like  liberty  of  speech.  But  it  was  none  the  less 
possible  to  inculcate  the  stern  Roman  virtues  beneath  the  mask  of 
an  Ajax  or  Ulysses ;  and  Sellar  has  brought  out  with  singular 
clearness  in  his  work  on  the  poets  of  the  Republic  the  national 
features  which  are  stamped  on  this  early  tragedy,  making  it  in 
spite  of  its  imperfections  worthy  of  the  great  Republic. 

The  oratorical  mould  in  which  all  Latin  poetry  except  satire 
and  comedy  is  to  a  great  extent  cast,  is  visible  from  the  beginning 
in  tragedy.  Weighty  sentences  follow  one  another  until  the  moral 
effect  is  reached,  or  the  description  fully  turned.  The  rhythm 
seems  to  have  been  much  more  often  trochaic1  than  iambic,  at 
least  than  trimeter  iambic,  for  the  tetrameter  is  more  frequently 
employed.  This  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  since  even  in  comedy, 
where  such  high-flown  cadences  are  out  of  place,  the  people  liked 
to  hear  them,  measuring  excellence  by  stateliness  of  march  rather 
than  propriety  of  diction. 

The  popular  demand  for  grandiloquence  Ennius  (209-169  b.c.) 
was  well  able  to  satisfy,  for  he  had  a  decided  leaning  to  it  himself, 
and  great  skill  in  attaining  it.  Moreover  he  had  a  vivid  power  of 
reproducing  the  original  emotion  of  another.  That  reflected  fer- 
vour which  draws  passion,  not  direct  from  nature,  but  from  nature 
as  mirrored  in  a  great  work  of  art,  stamps  Ennius  as  a  genuine 
Roman  in  talent,  while  it  removes  him  from  the  list  of  creative 
poets.  The  chief  sphere  of  his  influence  was  epic  poetry,  but  in 
tragedy  he  founded  a  school  wliich  only  closed  when  the  drama 
itself  was  silenced  by  the  bloody  massacres  of  the  civil  wars. 
Born  at  Rudiae  in  Calabria,  and  so  half  Greek,  half  Oscan,  be 
served  while  a  young  man  in  Sardinia,  where  he  rose  to  the  rank 
of  centurion,  and  was  soon  after  brought  to  Rome  by  Cato. 
There  is  something  striking  in  the  stern  reactionist  thus  intro- 
ducing to  Rome  the  man  who  was  more  instrumental  than  any 
other  in  overthrowing  his  hopes  and  fixing  the  new  culture 
beyond  possibility  of  recal.  When  settled  at  Rome,  Ennius 
gained  a  living  by  teaching  Greek,  and  translating  plays  for  the 
stage.  He  also  wrote  miscellaneous  poems,  and  among  them  a  pane-  , 
gyric  on  Scipio  which  brought  him  into  favourable  notice.  His 
lame  mist  have  been  established  before  b.c.  189,  for  in  that 
year  Fulvius  Nobilior  took  him  into  Aetolia  to  celebrate  his  deode 

1  Quadrati  versus.    Gell,  ii.  29. 


ROMAN  TRAGEDY — ENNIUS.  59 

a  proceeding  which  Cato  strongly  hut  ineffectually  impugned.  In 
184  b.c,  the  Roman  citizenship  was  conferred  on  him.  He  alludes 
to  this  with  pride  in  his  annals — 

u  Nos  sumus  Boimni  qui  fuvimus  ante  Rudini." 

During  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life  his  friendship  with 
Scipio  and  Fulvius  must  have  ensured  him  respect  and  sympathy 
as  well  as  freedom  from  distasteful  labour.  But  he  was  never  in 
affluent  circumstances ; l  partly  through  his  own  fault,  for  he  was 
a  free  liver,  as  Horace  tells  us2 — 

"  Ennius  ipse  pater  minquam  nisi  potus  ad  arma 
Prosiluit  dicenda  ;" 

and  he  himself  alludes  to  his  lazy  habits,  saying  that  he  never 
wrote  poetry  unless  confined  to  the  house  by  gout.3  He  died  in 
the  seventieth  year  of  his  age  and  was  buried  in  the  tomb  of  the 
Scipios,  where  a  marble  statue  of  him  stood  between  those  of  P. 
and  L.  Scipio. 

Ennius  is  not  merely  "  the  Father  of  Eoman  Poetry ; "  he  held 
also  as  a  man  a  peculiar  and  influential  position,  which  we  cannot 
appreciate  without  connecting  him  with  his  patron  and  friend, 
the  great  Scipio  Africanus,  Nearly  of  an  age,  united  by  common 
tastes  and  a  common  spiritual  enthusiasm,  these  two  distinguished 
men  wrought  together  for  a  common  object.  Their  familiarity 
with  Greek  culture  and  knowledge  of  Greek  religious  ideas 
seem  to  have  filled  both  with  a  high  sense  of  their  position  as 
teachers  of  their  countrymen.  Scipio  drew  around  him  a  circle 
of  aristocratic  liberals.  Ennius  appealed  rather  to  the  people  at 
large.  The  policy  of  the  elder  Scipio  was  continued  by  his 
adopted  son  with  far  less  breadth  of  view,  but  with  more 
refined  taste,  and  more  concentrated  effort.  Where  Africanus 
would  have  sought  his  inspiration  from  the  poetry,  Aemilianus 
went  rather  to  the  philosophy,  of  Greece ;  he  was  altogether  of  a 
colder  temperament,  just  as  his  literary  friends  Terence  and 
Lucilius  wore  by  nature  less  ardent  than  Ennius.  Between  them 
they  laid  the  foundation  of  that  broader  conception  of  civilisation 
which  is  expressed  by  the  significant  word  luimanitas.  and  which 
had  borne  its  intellectual  fruit  when  the  whole  people  raificd  a 
ahout  of  applause  at  the  line  in  the  Hautontimorumenos — 

"  Homo  sum:  humani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto." 

This  conception,  trite  as  it  seems  to  us,  was  by  no  means  so  when 
it  was  thus  proclaimed :  if  philosophers  had  understood  it  (a7ras 
avOpojTTGs  avOp<x)TTw  olk€lov  Kcu  <pl\ov. — Ar.  Eth,  N,  lib.  9),  they 

1  Cic.  de  Sen.  5,  14.         8  Ep.  I.  xix.  7.        8  Nunquam  poetDr  nisi  podager 


00  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

had  never  made  it  a  principle  of  action ;  and  the  teachers  wh« 
had  caused  even  the  uneducated  Eoman  populace  to  recognise  its 
speculative  truth  must  be  allowed  to  have  achieved  something 
great.  Some  historians  of  Rome  have  seen  in  this  attitude  a 
decline  from  old  Roman  exclusiveness,  almost  a  treasonable  con- 
spiracy against  the  Roman  idea  of  the  State.  Hence  they 
have  regarded  Ennius  with  something  of  that  disfavour  which 
Cato  in  his  patriotic  zeal  evinced  for  him.  The  justification  of 
the  poet's  course,  if  it  is  to  be  sustained  at  all,  must  be  sought  in 
the  necessity  for  an  expansion  of  national  views  to  meet  the  exi- 
"v  gences  of  an  increasing  foreign  empire.  External  coercion  might 
for  a  time  suffice  to  keep  divergent  nationalities  together ;  but  the 
only  durable  power  would  be  one  founded  on  sympathy  with  the 
subject  peoples  on  the  broad  ground  of  a  common  humanity. 
And  for  this  the  poet  and  his  patron  bore  witness  with  a  consis- 
tent and  solemn,  though  often  irreverent,  earnestness.  Ennius 
had  early  in  life  shown  a  tendency  towards  the  mystic  specula- 
tions of  Pythagoreanism :  traces  of  it  are  seen  in  his  assertion 
that  the  soul  of  Homer  had  migrated  into  him  through  a 
peacock, 1  and  that  he  had  three  souls  because  he  knew  three 
languages ; 2  while  the  satirical  notice  of  Horace  seems  to 
imply  that  he,  like  Scipio,  regarded  himself  as  specially  favoured 
of  heaven — 

"  Leviter  curare  videtur 
Quo  promissa  cadant  et  somnia  Pythagorea."' 

At  the  same  time  he  studied  the  Epicurean  system,  and  in  par- 
ticular, the  doctrines  of  Euhemerus,  whose  work  on  the  origin  of 
the  gods  he  translated.  His  denial  of  Divine  Providence  is  well 
known — 4 

"  Ego  deum  genus  esse  dixi  et  dicam  semper  caelitum: 
Sed  eos  non  curare  opinor  quid  agat  humanum  genus. 
Nam  si  curent,  bene  bonis  sit,  male  malis,  quod  nunc  abest.' 

Of  these  two  inconsistent  points  of  view,  the  second,  as  we  should 
expect  in  a  nature  so  little  mystical,  finally  prevailed,  so  that 
Ennius  may  well  be  considered  the  preacher  of  scepticism  or  the 
bold  impugner  of  popular  superstition  according  to  the  point  of 
view  which  we  assume.  In  addition  to  these  philosophic  aspira- 
tions he  had  a  strong  desire  to  reach  artistic  perfection,  and  to  be 
the  herald  of  a  new  literary  epoch.  Conscious  of  his  success  and 
proud  of  the  powei  he  wielded  over  the  minds  of  the  people,  h€ 

1  Quintus  Maeor.ides  pavone  sx  Pythagoreo  (Persius). 

1  Greek,  Oscan,  and  Latin.  *  Ep.  II.  i  52. 

*  Fragment  of  the  Telamo. 


KOMAN  TRAGEDY — ENNIUS.  SI 

alludes  more  than  once  to  his  performances  in  a   self-congratu- 
latory strain — 

"  Enni  poeta  salve,  qui  mortal ibus 
Versus  propinas  flammeos  medullitus.* 

"  Hail  I  poet  Ennius,  who  pledgest  mankind  in  verses  fiery  to  the 

heart's  core."     And  with  even  higher  confidence  in  his  epitaph— 

"  Aspicite,  o  eives,  senis  Enni  imagini'  formam: 
Hie  vostrum  panxit  maxima  facta  patrum. 
Nemo  me  lacrimis  decoret  nee  ftmera  fletu 
Faxit.     Cur  ?     volito  vivu'  per  ora  virum." 

We  shall  illustrate  the  ahove  remarks  by  quoting  one  or  two 
passages  from  the  fragments  of  his  tragedies,  which,  it  is  true,  are 
now  easily  accessible  to  the  general  reader,  but  nevertheless  will 
not  be  out  of  place  in  a  manual  like  the  present,  which  is  intended 
to  lead  the  student  to  study  historically  for  himself  the  progress 
of  the  literature.  The  first  is  a  dialogue  between  Hecuba  and 
Cassandra,  from  the  Alexander.  Cassandra  feels  the  prophetic 
impulse  coming  over  her,  the  symptoms  of  which  her  mother 
notices  with  alarm : 

"Hec. 
"Sed  quid  oculis  rabere  visa  es  derepente  ar  dentibusf 
Ubi  tua  ilia  paulo  ante  sapiens  virginali'  modestia  ? 

Cas. 
Mater  optumarum  multo  mulier  melior  mulierum, 
Missa  sum  superstitiosis  ariolationibus. 
Namque  Apollo  fatis  fandis  dementem  invitam  ciret : 
Virgines  aequales  vereor,  patris  mei  meum  factum  pudet^ 
Optimi  viri.     Mea  mater,  tui  me  miseret,  me  piget: 
Optumam  progeniem  Priamo  peperisti  extra  me:  hoc  dolet; 
Men  obesse,  illos  prodesse,  me  obstare,  illos  obsequi  1 " 

She  then  sees  the  vision — 

•  •••••• 

14  Adest  adest  fax  obvoluta  sanguine  atque  incendio! 
Multos  annos  latuit:  cives  ferte  opem  et  restinguite! 
Iamque  man  magno  classis  cita 
Texitur:  exitium  examen  rapit: 
Advenit,  et  fera  velivolantibus 
Navibus  complebit  manus  litora.'* 

This  is  noble  poetry,     Another  passage  from  the  Telamo  is  as 

follows : — 

"  Sed  superstitiosi  vates  impudentesque  arioli, 
Aut  inertes  aut  insani  aut  quibus  egestas  imperat, 
Qui  sibi  semitam  non  sapiunt,  alteri  monstrant  viam, 
Quibus  divitias  pollicentur,  ab  eis  drachumam  ipsi  petunt. 
De  his  divitiis  sibi  deducant  drachumam,  reddant  cetera."  - 

Here  he  shows,  like  so  many  of  his  countrymen,  a  strong  vein 
of  satire.  The  metre  is  trochaic,  scanned,  like  these  of  Plautus 
and  Terence,  by  accent  as  much  as  by  quantity,  and  noticeable  foi 


62  HISTORY  OF  HOxMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  careiess  way  in  which  whole  syllables  are  slurred  over.  In  the 
former  fragment  the  fourth  line  must  be  scanned — 

"  Vfrgi  |  nes  ae  |  qiiales  |  vereor  |  patris  niei  |  meiim  fac  |  turn  pudet." 

Horace  mentions  the  ponderous  weight  of  his  iambic  lines,  which 
were  loaded  with  spondees.  The  anapaestic  measure,  of  which  he 
was  a  master,  has  an  impetuous  swing  that  carries  the  reader  away, 
and,  while  producing  a  different  effect  from  its  Greek  equivalent, 
in  capacity  is  not  much  inferior  to  it.  Many  of  his  phrases  and 
me  trical  terms  are  imitated  in  Virgil,  though  such  imitation  is  much 
more  frequently  drawn  from  his  hexameter  poems.  He  wrote  one 
Praetexta  and  several  comedies,  but  these  latter  were  uncongenial 
to  his  temperament,  and  by  no  means  successful.  He  had  little  or 
no  humour.  His  poetical  genius  was  earnest  rather  than  power- 
ful ;  probably  he  had  less  than  either  Naevius  or  Plautus ;  but 
his  higher  cultivation,  his  serious  view  of  his  art,  and  the  con- 
sistent pursuit  of  a  well-conceived  aim,  placed  him  on  a  dra- 
matic level  nearly  as  high  as  Plautus  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Ciceronian  critics.  His  literary  influence  will  be  more  fully  dis- 
cussed under  his  epic  poems. 

His  sister's  son  Pacuvius  (220-132  b.c),  next  claims  our  atten 
tion.  This  celebrated  tragedian,  on  whom  the  complimentary  epithet 
ductus1  was  by  general  consent  bestowed,  was  brought  up  at  Brun- 
disium,  where  amid  congenial  influences  he  practised  with  success 
the  art  of  a  painter.  At  what  time  he  came  to  Rome  is  not  known, 
but  he  gained  great  renown  there  by  his  paintings  before 
attaining  the  position  of  chief  tragic  poet.  Pliny  tells  us  of  a 
picture  in  the  Temple  of  Hercules  in  the  Forum  Boarium,  which 
was  considered  as  only  second  to  that  of  Fabius  Pictor.  With 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  poet  he  united  that  genial  breadth  of 
temper  which  among  artists  seems  peculiarly  the  painter's  gift. 
Happy  in  his  twofold  career  (for  he  continued  to  paint  as  well 
as  to  write),2  free  from  jealousy  as  from  want,  successful  as  a 
poet  and  as  a  man,  he  lived  at  Rome  until  his  eightieth  year, 
the  friend  of  Laelius  and  of  his  younger  rival  Accius,  and 
retired  soon  after  to  his  native  city  where  he  received  the 
visits  of  younger  writers,  and  died  at  the  great  age  of  eighty- 
eight  (132  b.c).  His  long  career  was  not  productive  of  a  large 
number  of  works.  We  know  of  but  twelve  tragedies  and  one 
praetexta  by  him.  The  latter  was  called  Patdlu.%  and  had  for 
its  hero  the  conqueror  of  Perseus,  King  of  Macedonia,  but;  n« 
fragments  of   it  survive.     The  great  authority  which  the  namt 

1  Aufert  Pacuvius  docti  famam  senis. — Hor.  Ep.  ii.  1,  58. 
1  Wo  learn  from  Pliny  that  he  decorated  his  own  scenes 


KOMAN  TRAGEDY — rACUVIUS  63 

of   Pacuvius  possessed  was  due  to  the  care  with  which  he  ela- 
borated  his  writings.     Thirteen    plays   and  a  few  saturae  in  a 
period  of  at  least  thirty  years1  seems  but  a  small  result;    but 
the   admirable  way  in   which    he   sustained  the  dramatic  situa- 
tions made  every  one  of  them  popular  with  the  nation.     There 
were   two,  however,  that    stood    decidedly  above   the  rest — the 
Antiopa   and   the   Dulorestes.       Of   the   latter  Cicero  tells  the 
anecdote  that  the  people  rose  as  one  man  to  aiplaud  the  noble 
passage  in  which  Pylades  and  Orestes  contend  for  the  honour  of 
dying  for  one  another.2     Of  the  former  he  speaks  in  the  highest 
terms,  though  it  is  possible  that  in  his  admiration  for  the  severe 
and   truly  Eoman   sentiments   it  inculcated,  he  may  have  been 
indulgent  to  its  artistic  defects.     The  few  lines  that  have  come 
down  to  us  resemble  that  ridiculed  by   Persius3  for  its  turgid 
mannerisms.     A  good  instance  of  the  excellences  which  a  Eoman 
critic  looked  for  in  tragedy  is  afforded  by  the  praise  Cicero  bestows 
on  the  Nipt r a,  a  play  imitated  from  Sophocles.     The  passage  is  so 
interesting  that  it  may  well  be  added  here.4     Cicero's  words  are — 
"  The  wise  Greek  (Ulysses)  when  severely  wounded  does  not 
lament  overmuch ;   he  curbs  the  expression  of  his  pain.     '  For- 
ward gently,'  he  says,  '  and  with  quiet  effort,  lest  by  jolting  me 
you  increase  the  pangs  of  my  wound.'     Now,  in  this  Pacuvius 
excels  Sophocles,  who  makes  Ulysses  give  way  to  cries  and  tears. 
And  yet  those  who  are  carrying  him,  out  of  consideration  for  the 
majesty  of  him  they  bear,  do  not  hesitate  to  rebuke  even  this 
moderate  lamentation.     *  We  see  indeed,  Ulysses,  that  you  have 
Buffered  grievous  hurt,  but  methinks  for  one  who  has  passed  his 
life  in  arms,  you  show  too  soft  a  spirit.'     The  skilful  poet  knows 
that  habit  is  a  good  teacher  how  to  bear  pain.     And  so  Ulysses, 
though  in  extreme  agony,  still  keeps  command  over  his  words. 
*  Stop  !  hold,  I  say  !  the  ulcer  has  got  the  better  of  me.     Strip  off 
my  clothes.     0,  woe  is  me  !  I  am  in  torture.'     Here  he  begins  to 
give  way ;  but  in  a  moment  he  stops  — '  Cover  me  ;  depart,  now 
leave  me  in  peace ;  for  by  handling  me  and  jolting  me  you  increase 
the  cruel  pain/  Do  you  observe  how  it  is  not  the  cessation  of  bodily 
anguish,  but  the  necessity  of  chastening  the  expression  of  it  that 
keeps  him  silent  ?    And  so,  at  the  close  of  the  play,  while  himself 
dying,  he  has  so  far  conquered  himself  that  he  can  reprove  others  in 
words  like  these, — 'It  is  meet  to  complain  of  adverse  fortune,  but  not 
to  bewail  it.     That  is  the  part  of  a  man ;  but  weeping  is  granted 

1  We  infer  that  he  came  to  Rome  not  later  than  169,  as  in  that  year  h$ 
buried  Ennius  ;  but  it  is  likely  that  he  arrived  much  earlier. 

2  De  Am.  vii. 

•  1,  77.     "Antiopa  aerumnia  cor  luctificabile  fulta."        4Tusc.  IL  x.  4? 


64  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITKJUTUKK. 

to  the  nature  of  woman.'     The  softer  feelings  here  obey  the  othca 
part  ot  the  mind,  as  a  dutiful  soldier  obeys  a  stern  commander." 

We  can  go  with  Cicero  in  admiring  the  manly  spirit  that  breathes 
through  these  lines,  and  feel  that  the  poet  was  justified  in  so  far 
leaving  the  original  as  without  prejudice  to  the  dramatic  effect  to 
faa silicate  a  higher  moral  lesson. 

As  to  the  treatment  of  his  models  we  may  say,  generally,  that 
Pacuvius  used  more  freedom  than  Ennius.  He  was  more  of  an 
adapter  and  less  of  a  translates  .Nevertheless  this  dependence  on 
his  own  resources  for  description  appears  to  have  cramped  rather 
than  freed  his  style.  The  early  Latin  writers  seem  to  move  more 
easily  when  rendering  the  familiar  Greek  originals  than  when 
essaying  to  steer  their  own  path.  He  also  committed  the  mistake  of 
generally  imitating  Sophocles,  the  nntransplantable  child  of  Athens, 
instead  of  Euripides,  to  whom  he  could  do  better  justice,  as  the  suc- 
cess of  his  Euripidean  plays  prove.1  His  style,  though  emphatic,  was 
wanting  in  naturalness.  The  author  of  the  treatise  to  Herennius 
contrasts  the  sen  tent iae  of  Ennius  with  the  period  i  of  Pacuvius;  and 
Lucilius  speaks  of  a  word  "  contorto  aliquo  ex  Pacuviano  exordio." 

Quintilian2  notices  the  inelegance  of  his  compounds,  and  makes 
the  just  remark  that  the  old  writers  attempted  to  reproduce  Greek 
analogies  without  sufficient  regard  for  the  capacities  of  their  Ian  , 
guage  ;  thus  while  the  word  Kvpravxqv  is  elegant  and  natural,  its 
Latin  equivalent  incur  » ice  rvicus,  borders  on  the  ludicrous.3  Soma 
of  his  fragments  show  the  same  sceptical  tendencies  that  are  pro- 
minent in  Ennius.  One  of  them  contains  a  comprehensive  survey 
of  the  different  philosophic  systems,  and  decides  in  favour  of  blind 
chance  (temeritas)  as  the  ruling  power,  on  the  ground  of  sudden 
changes  in  fortune  like  that  of  Orestes,  who  in  one  day  was  meta- 
morphosed from  a  king  into  a  beggar.  Paucuvius  either  improved 
his  later  style,  or  else  confined  its  worst  points  to  his  tragedies,  for 
nothing  can  be  more  classical  and  elegant  than  his  epitaph,  which 
is  couched  in  diction  .j  refined  as  that  of  Terence — 

Adulesccns,  tametsi  properas,  ti  hoc  saxum  vocat 
Ut  sese  aspieias,  deinde  quod  scriptumst  legas. 
Hie  sunt  poetae  Pacuvi  Marci  sita 
Ossa.     Hoc  volebaro  nescius  ne  esses      Vale. 


1  The  Antiopa  and  Dulorw»tes.  *  Quint.  I.  V.  67-70. 

*  We  give  the  reader  an  example  of  thiu  feature  of  Pacuvius's  style.  In  the 
Antiopa,  Amphion  gives  a  description  of  the  tortoise  :  "  Quadrupts  tardi- 
grada  agrcstis  humilis  aspera  Capite  brevi  ccrvice  anguina  aspedu  truci 
Eviscerata  mamma  cum  animali  sono."  To  which  his  hearers  reply  — "  Ita 
wptuosa  dictione  abs  te  datur,  Quod  coniectura  sajriens  acgre  amtulit.  Non 
inkiligimvjS  nisi  si  aperte  dixeris. " 


accius.  65 

When  Pacuvius  retired  to  Brundisium  he  left  a  worthy  succes- 
sor in  L.  Attius  or  Accius  (170-94  b.c),  whom,  as  before  observed, 
he  had  assisted  with  his  advice,  showing  kindly  interest  as  a  fellow- 
workman  rather  than  jealousy  as  a  rival.  Accius's  parents  belonged 
to  the  class  of  libertini ;  they  settled  at  Pisaurum.  The  poet 
began  his  dramatic  career  at  the  age  of  thirty  with  the  At  reus,  and 
continued  to  exhibit  until  his  death.  He  forms  the  link  between  the 
ante-classical  and  Ciceronian  epochs  ;  for  Cicero  when  a  boy1  con- 
versed with  him,  and  retained  always  a  strong  admiration  for  his 
works.2  He  had  a  high  notion  of  the  dignity  of  his  calling. 
There  is  a  story  told  of  his  refusing  to  rise  to  Caesar  when  he 
entered  the  Collegium  Poetarum ;  but  if  by  this  Julius  be  meant,  the 
chronology  makes  the  occurrence  impossible.  Besides  thirty-seven 
tragedies,  he  wrote  Ami  ales  (apparently  mythological  histories  in 
hexameters,  something  of  the  character  of  Ovid's  Fasti),  Didasca- 
lia,  or  a  history  of  Greek  and  Eoman  poetry,  and  other  kindred 
works,  as  well  as  two  Praetextce. 

The  fragments  that  have  reached  us  are  tolerably  numerous, 
and  enable  us  to  select  certain  prominent  characteristics  of  his 
style.  The  loftiness  for  which  he  is  celebrated  seems  to  be  of 
expression  rather  than  of  thought,  e.g. 

"  Quid?  quod  videbis  laetnm  in  Parnasi  iugo 
Bicipi  inter  pinos  tripudiantem  in  circulis 
Concutere  thyrsos  ludo,  taedis  fulgere  ; " 

but  sometimes  a  noble  sentiment  is  simply  and  emphatically 
expressed— 

"  Non  genus  virum  ornat,  generi  vir  fortis  loco."* 

He  was  a  careful  chooser  of  words,  e.g. 

**  Tu  pertinaciam  esse,  Antiloche,  hanc  praedicas, 
Ego  pervicaciam  aio  et  ea  me  uti  volo : 
Haec  fortis  sequitur,  illani  indocti  possident  .  .  •  • 
Nam  pervicacem  dici  me  esse  et  vincere 
Perfacile  patior,  pertinaciam  nil  moror."4 

These  distinctions,  obvious  as  they  are  to  us,  were  by  no  means 
so  to  the  early  Romans.  Close  resemblance  in  sound  seemed 
irresistibly  to  imply  some  connexion  more  than  that  of  mere 
accident ;  and  that  turning  over  the  properties  of  words,  which 

1  Prob.  94  B.C.  when  Cic.  was  twelve  years  old.     In  Plane.  24,  59,  he 
calls  him  "  gravis  et  ingeniosus  poeta." 

2  Of.  Hor.  Ep.  ii.  1,  56  ;  Gv.  Am.  i.  15, 19.  On  the  other  hand,  Hor.  S.  I, 
X.  53. 

3Loco  =  decori,  Non.  338,  22. 

4  Compare  a  similar  subtle  distino   on  in  the  Dulorestes,  M  Piget  paternuui 
noinen,  maternum  pudet  piofari." 


66  HISTOEY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

in  philosophy  as  "well  as  poetry  seems  to  us  to  have  something 
childish  in  it,  had  its  legitimate  place  in  the  development  of  each 
language.  Accius  paints  action  with  vigour.  We  have  the  fol^ 
lowing  spirited  fragment — 

m  Constituit,  cognovit,  sensit,  conlocat  sese  in  locum 
Celsum :  nine  manibus  rapere  raudus  saxeum  et  grava.* 
and  again — 

"  Heus  vigiles  properate,  expergite, 
Pectora  tarda,  sopore  exsurgite!" 

He  was  conspicuous  among  tragedians  for  a  power  of  reasoned 
eloquence  of  the  forensic  type ;  and  delighted  in  making  two  rival 
pleaders  state  their  case,  some  of  his  most  successful  scenes  being 
of  this  kind.  His  opinions  resembled  those  of  Ennius,  but  were 
less  irreverent.  He  acknowledges  the  interest  of  the  gods  in 
human  things — 

M  Nam  non  facile  sine  deum  opera  humana  propria1  sunt  bona," 

and  in  a  fragment  of  the  Brutvs  he  enforces  the  doctrine  that 
dreams  are  often  heaven-sent  warnings,  full  of  meaning  to  those 
that  will  understand  them.  Nevertheless  his  contempt  for  augury 
was  equal  to  that  of  his  master — 

"  Nil  credo  auguribus  qni  auris  verbis  divitant 
Alienas,  suas  ut  auro  locupletent  domos." 

The  often-quoted  maxim  of  the  tyrant  oderint  dum  metuant  is 
first  found  in  him.  Altogether,  he  was  a  powerful  writer,  with 
less  strength  perhaps,  but  more  polish  than  Ennius ;  and  while 
manipulating  words  with  greater  dexterity,  losing  but  little  of 
that  stern  grandeur  which  comes  from  the  plain  utterance  of 
conviction.  His  general  characteristics  place  him  altogether 
within  the  archaic  age.  In  point  of  time  little  anterior  to  Cicero, 
in  style  he  is  almost  a  contemporary  of  Ennius.  The  very  slight 
increase  of  linguistic  polish  during  the  century  and  a  quarter 
which  comprises  the  tragic  art  of  Borne,  is  somewhat  remarkable. 
The  old-fashioned  ornaments  of  assonance,  alliteration,  and  plays 
upon  words  are  as  frequent  in  Accius  as  in  Livius,  or  rather  more 
so ;  and  the  number  of  archaic  forms  is  scarcely  smaller.  We  see 
words  like  noxitndo,  honest/tudo,  sanctescat,  topper,  domuitio,  red* 
host  ire,  and  w  jrider  that  they  could  have  only  preceded  by  a  few 
years  the  Latin  of  Cicero,  and  were  contemporary  with  that  of 
Gracchus.  Accius,  like  so  many  Romans,  was  a  grammarian  ;  he 
introduced  certain  changes  into  the  received  spelling,  e.g.  he 
wrote  oa,  ec%  etc.  when  the  vowel  was  long,  reserving  the  singlt 

1  Propria  =  perpef\ a,  Non.  362,  2. 


accius.  67 

a,  e,  etc.  for  the  short  quantity.  It  was  in  acknowledgment  of  tha 
interest  taken  by  him  in  these  studies  that  Varro  dedicated  to 
Inm  one  of  his  many  philological  treatises.  The  date  of  his  death 
is  not  quite  certain ;  but  it  may  be  safely  assigned  to  about  90 
B.o.  With  him  died  tragic  writing  at  Rome  :  scarcely  a  generation 
after  we  find  tragedy  has  donned  the  form  of  the  closet  drama, 
written  only  for  recitation.  Cicero  and  his  brother  assiduously 
cultivated  this  rhetorical  art.  When  writing  failed,  however, 
acting  rose,  and  the  admirable  performances  of  Aesopus  and. 
Eoscius  did  much  to  keep  alive  an  interest  in  the  old  works. 
Varius  and  Pollio  seem  for  a  moment  to  have  revived  the  tragic 
muse  under  Augustus,  but  their  works  had  probably  nothing  in 
common  with  this  early  but  interesting  drama ;  and  in  Imperial 
times  tragedy  became  more  and  more  confused  with  rhetoric,  until 
delineation  of  character  ceased  to  be  an  object,  and  declamatory 
force  or  line  point  was  the  chief  end  pursued* 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Epio  Poetry.    Ennius — Fumus  (200-100  B.a) 

We  must  now  retrace  our  steps,  and  consider  Ennius  in  the 
capacity  of  epic  poet.  It  was  in  this  light  that  he  acquired  his 
chief  contemporary  renown,  that  he  accredits  himself  to  posterity 
in  his  epitaph,  and  that  he  obtained  that  commanding  influence 
over  subsequent  poetic  literature,  which,  stereotyped  in  Virgil, 
was  never  afterwards  lost.  The  merit  of  discerning  the  most 
favourable  subject  for  a  Roman  epic  belongs  to  Naevius;  in  this 
department  Ennius  did  but  borrow  of  him ;  it  was  in  the  form  in 
which  he  cast  his  poem  that  his  originality  was  shown.  The 
legendary  history  of  Rome,  her  supposed  connection  with  the 
issues  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  her  subsequent  military  achieve- 
ments in  the  sphere  of  history,  such  was  the  groundwork  both  of 
Naevius's  and  Ennius's  conception.  And,  however  unsuitable  such 
a  consecutive  narrative  might  be  for  a  heroic  poem,  there  was 
something  in  it  that  corresponded  with  the  national  sentiment, 
and  in  a  changed  form  it  re-appears  in  the  Aeneid.  Naevius  had 
been  contented  with  a  single  episode  in  Rome's  career  of  conquest. 
Ennius,  with  more  ambition  but  less  judgment,  aspired  to  grasp 
in  an  epic  unity  the  entire  history  of  the  nation ;  and  to  achieve 
this,  no  better  method  occurred  to  him  than  the  time-honoured 
and  prosaic  system  of  annals.  The  difficulty  of  recasting  these  in 
a  poetic  mould  might  well  have  staggered  a  more  accomplished 
master  of  song ;  but  to  the  enthusiastic  and  laborious  bard  the 
task  did  not  seem  too  great.  He  lived  to  complete  his  work  in 
accordance  with  the  plan  he  had  proposed,  and  though,  perhaps, 
the  m <nms  ultima  may  have  been  wanting,  there  is  nothing  to 
show  that  he  was  dissatisfied  with  his  results.  We  may  perhaps 
smile  at  the  vanity  which  aspired  to  the  title  of  Roman  Homer 
and  still  more  at  the  partiality  which  so  willingly  granted  it; 
nevertheless,  with  all  deductions  on  the  score  of  rude  conception 
and  ruder  execution,  the  fragments  that  remain  incline  us  to 
concur  with  Scaliger  in  wishing   that  fate   had   spared  us  th« 


EPIC  POETRY — EJSNIUS  6S 

whole,  and  denied  us  Silius,  Statius,  Lucan,  u  et  tons  ces  gargon3 
la."  The  whole  was  divided  into  eighteen  books,  of  which  the 
first  contained  the  introduction,  the  earliest  traditions,  the  foun- 
dation of  E,ome,  and  the  deification  of  Eomulus ;  the  second  and 
third  contained  the  regal  period ;  the  fourth  began  the  history  of 
the  Republic  and  carried  it  down  to  the  burning  of  the  city  by 
the  Gauls ;  the  fifth  comprised  the  Samnite  wars ;  the  sixth,  that 
with  Pyrrhus  :  the  seventh,  the  first  Punic  war ;  the  eighth  and 
ninth,  the  war  with  Hannibal ;  the  tenth  and  eleventh,  that  with 
Macedonia;  the  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth,  that  with 
Syria ;  the  fifteenth,  the  campaign  of  Fulvius  Nobilior  in  Aetolia, 
and  ended  apparently  with  the  death  of  the  great  Scipio.  The 
work  then  received  a  new  preface,  and  continued  the  history  down 
to  the  poet's  last  years,  containing  many  personal  notices,  until  it 
was  finally  brought  to  a  close  in  172  b.c.  after  having  occupied 
its  author  eighteen  years.1  "The  interest  of  this  last  book,"  says 
Conington,2  "  must  have  centred,  at  least  to  us,  in  the  discourse 
about  himself,  in  which  the  old  bard  seems  to  have  indulged  in 
closing  this  his  greatest  poem.  Even  now  we  may  read  with 
sympathy  his  boastful  allusion  to  his  late  enrolment  among  the 
citizens  of  the  conquering  city;  we  may  be  touched  by  the 
mention  he  appears  to  have  made  of  the  year  of  his  age  in  which 
he  wrote,  bordering  closely  on  the  appointed  term  of  man's  life  \ 
and  we  may  applaud  as  the  curtain  falls  on  his  grand  comparison 
of  himself  to  a  victorious  racer  laden  with  Olympian  honours,  and 
now  at  last  consigned  to  repose  : — 

*  Si  cut  fortis  equus,  spatio  qui  saepe  supremo 
Vicit  Olimpia,  nunc  senio  confectus  quiescit.'  M 

He  was  thus  nearly  fifty  when  he  began  to  write,  a  fact  which 
strikes  us  as  remarkable.  We  are  accustomed  to  associate  the 
poetic  gift  with  a  highly-strung  nervous  system,  and  unusual 
bodily  conditions  not  favourable  to  long  life,  as  well  as  with  a 
precocious  special  development  which  proclaims  unmistakably  in 
the  boy  the  future  greatness  of  the  man.  None  of  these  condi- 
tions seem  to  have  been  present  in  the  early  Roman  schooL 
Livius  was  a  quiet  schoolmaster,  Naevius  a  vigorous  soldier, 
Ennius  a  self-indulgent  but  hard-working  litterateur,  Plautus  an 
active  man,  whose  animal  spirits  not  even  the  flour-mill  could 
quench,  Pacuvius  a  steady  but  genial  student,  Accius  and  Terence 
finished  men  of  the  world;  and  all,  except  Terence  (and  he 
probably  met  his  early  death  through  an  accident),  enjoyed  the 

1  Vahlen,  quoted  by  Teuffel,  $  90,  3  ;  see  Gell.  xvii.  21,  43 

2  Post.  Works,  i.  p.  344. 


70  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

full  term  of  man's  existence.  Moreover,  few  of  them  began  life 
by  being  poets,  and  some,  as  Ennius  and  Plautus,  did  not  apply 
themselves  to  poetry  until  they  had  reached  mature  years.  With 
these  facts  the  character  of  their  genius  as  a  rule  agrees.  We 
should  not  expect  in  such  men  the  fine  inspiration  of  a  Sophocles, 
a  Goethe,  or  a  Shelley,  and  we  do  not  find  it.  The  poetic  frenzy, 
bo  magnificently  described  in  the  Phaedrus  of  Plato,  which  caused 
the  Greeks  to  regard  the  poet  in  his  moments  of  creation  as 
actually  possessed  by  the  god,  is  nowhere  manifest  among  the 
early  Romans ;  and  if  it  claims  to  appear  in  their  later  literature, 
we  find  it  after  all  a  spurious  substitute,  differing  widely  from  the 
emotion  of  creative  genius.  It  is  not  mere  accident  that  Rome  is 
as  little  productive  in  the  sphere  of  speculative  philosophy  as  she 
is  in  that  of  the  highest  poetry,  for  the  two  endowments  are 
closely  allied.  The  problem  each  sets  before  itself  is  the  same  ; 
to  arrest  and  embody  in  an  intelligible  shape  the  idea  that  shall 
give  light  to  the  dark  questionings  of  the  intellect,  or  the  vague 
yearnings  of  the  heart.  To  Rome  it  has  not  been  given  to  open 
a  new  sphere  of  truth,  or  to  add  one  more  to  the  mystic  voices  of 
passion ;  her  epic  mission  is  the  humbler  but  still  not  ignoble  one 
of  bracing  the  mind  by  her  masculine  good  sense,  and  linking 
together  golden  chains  of  memory  by  the  majestic  music  of  hei 
verse. 

There  were  two  important  elements  introduced  into  the 
mechanism  of  the  story  by  Ennius ;  the  Olympic  Pantheon,  and 
the  presentation  of  the  Roman  worthies  as  heroes  analogous  to 
those  of  Greece.  The  latter  innovation  was  only  possible  within 
narrow  limits,  for  the  idea  formed  by  the  Romans  even  of  their 
greatest  heroes,  as  Romulus,  Numa,  or  Camillus  was  different  in 
kind  from  that  of  the  Greek  hero-worshipper.  Thus  we  see  that 
Virgil  abstains  from  applying  the  name  to  any  of  his  Italian 
characters,  confining  it  to  such  as  are  mentioned  in  Homer,  or  are 
connected  with  the  Homeric  legends.  Still  we  find  at  a  later 
period  Julius  Caesar  publicly  professing  his  descent  on  both  sides 
from  a  superhuman  ancestor,  for  such  he  practically  admits 
Ancus  Martius  to  be.1  And  in  the  epic  of  Silius  Italicus  the 
Roman  generals  occupy  quite  the  conventional  position  of  the 
hero-leader. 

The  admission  of  the  Olympic  deities  as  a  kind  of  divine 
machinery  for  diversifying  and  explaining  the  narrative  was  much 
more  pregnant  with  consequences.  Outwardly,  it  is  simply  adopted 
from  Homer,  but  the  spirit  which  animates  it  is  altogether  diflerent 

1  Inest  in  genere  et  sanctitas  regum,  qui  nlurimum  inter  homines  pollent^ 
«t  caerimonia  deorum,  quorum  ipsi  in  potestate  sunt  reges. — Suit.  Jul.  6 


EPIC  POETRY— ENNIUS.  71 

The  Greek,  in  spite  of  Ms  intellectual  scepticism,  retained  an 
aesthetic  and  emotional  belief  in  his  national  gods,  and  at  any  rate 
it  was  natural  that  he  should  celebrate  them  in  his  verse ;  but 
the  Eoman  poet  claimed  to  utilize  the  Greek  Pantheon  for  artistic 
purposes  alone.  He  professed  no  belief  in  the  beings  he  depicted. 
They  were  merely  an  ornamental,  supernatural  element,  either 
introduced  at  will,  as  in  Horace,  or  regulated  according  to  tradi- 
tional conceptions,  as  in  Ennius  and  Virgil.  Apollo,  Minerva, 
and  Bacchus,  were  probably  no  more  to  him  than  they  are  to  us. 
They  were  names,  consecrated  by  genius  and  convenient  for  art 
under  which  could  be  combined  the  maximum  of  beautiful  associa- 
tions with  the  minimum  of  trouble  to  the  poet.  The  custom, 
which  perpetuated  itself  in  Latin  poetry,  revived  again  with  the 
rise  of  Italian  art ;  and  under  a  modified  form  its  influence  may 
be  seen  in  the  grand  conceptions  of  Milton.  The  true  nature  of 
romantic  poetry  is,  however,  alien  to  any  such  mechanical  employ- 
ment of  the  supernatural,  and  its  comparative  infrequency  in  the 
highest  English  and  German  poetry,  stamps  these  as  products  of 
the  modern  spirit.  Had  the  Komans  left  Olympus  to  itself,  and 
occupied  themselves  only  with  the  rhetorical  delineation  of  human 
action  and  feeling,  they  would  have  chosen  a  less  ambitious  but 
certainly  more  original  path.  Lucretius  struggles  against  the  pre- 
vailing tendency  ;  but  so  unable  were  the  Eomans  to  invest  their 
finer  fancies  with  any  other  shape,  that  even  while  he  is  blaming 
the  custom  he  unawares  falls  into  it. 

It  was  in  the  metrical  treatment  that  Ennius's  greatest  achieve- 
ment lay.  For  the  first  time  in  any  consecutive  way  he  introduced 
the  hexameter  into  Latin  poetry.  It  is  true  that  Plautus  had  com- 
posed his  epitaph  in  that  measure,  if  we  may  trust  Yarro's  judg- 
ment on  its  genuineness.1  And  the  Marcian  oracles,  though  their 
rhythm  has  been  disputed,  were  in  all  probability  written  in  the 
same.2  But  these  last  were  translations,  and  were  in  no  sense  an 
epoch  in  literature.  Ennius  compelled  the  intractable  forms  of 
Latin  speech  to  accommodate  themselves  to  the  dactylic  rhythm. 
Difficulties  of  two  kinds  met  him,  those  of  accent  and  those  of 
quantity.  The  former  had  been  partially  surmounted  by  the  comic 
writers,  and  it  only  required  a  careful  extension  of  their  method 

*  "Postquamst  morte  datus  Plautus  Comoedia  luget: 
Scaenast  deserta  ;  dein  Risus,  Ludus,  Jocusque 
Et  numeri  innumeri  siniul  omnes  collacrumarunt." — Gell.  i.  24,  8. 
1  "Amnem,  Troiugena,  Cannani  Roniane  fuge  hospes,"  is  the  best  known 
of  these  lines.     Many  others  have  been  collected,  and  have  been  arranged 
with  less  probability,  in  Saturnian  verse  by  Hermann.     The  substance  ii 
given,  Livy,  xxv.  12.     See  Browne,  Hist.  Rom.  Lit.  p.  34,  35.     Another  if 
preserved  b,y  Ennius,  Aio  te,  A^acida,  Romanos  vincere  posse 


72  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

to  render  the  deviations  from  the  familial  emphasis  of  daily  life 
harmonious  and  acceptable.  In  respect  of  quantity  the  problem 
was  more  complex.  Plautus  had  disregarded  it  in  numerous 
instances  (e.g.  dart),  and  in  others  had  been  content  to  recognize 
the  natural  length  or  shortness  of  a  vowel  (e.g.  senex  ipse),  neglect- 
ing the  subordinate  laws  of  position,  &c.  This  custom  had,  as  fai 
as  we  know,  guided  Ennius  himself  in  his  dramatic  poems  ;  but 
for  the  epos  he  adopted  a  different  principle.  Taking  advantage 
of  the  tendency  to  shorten  final  vowels,  he  fixed  almost  eveiy 
doubtful  case  as  short,  e.g.  musd,  patre,  dare,  omnibus,  amaverts, 
■pater,  only  leaving  the  long  syllable  where  the  metre  required  it, 
aa  eondi derV.  By  this  means  he  gave  a  dactylic  direction  to  Latin 
prosody  which  it  afterwards,  though  only  slightly,  extended.  At 
the  same  time  he  observed  carefully  the  Greek  laws  of  position 
and  the  doubled  letters.  He  admitted  hiatus,  but  not  to  any  great 
extent,  and  chiefly  in  the  caesura.  The  lengthening  of  a  short 
vowel  by  the  ictus  occurs  occasionally  in  his  verses,  but  almost 
always  in  words  where  it  was  originally  by  nature  long.  In  such 
words  the  lengthening  may  take  place  even  in  the  thesis  of  the 
foot,  as  in — 

"non  enira  rumores  ponebat  ante  salutem." 

Elision  played  a  prominent  part  in  his  system.  This  was  natural, 
since  with  all  his  changes  many  long  or  intractable  terminations 
remained,  e.g.  enlm,  quidem,  omnium,  &c.  These  were  generally 
elided,  sometimes  shortened  as  in  the  line  quoted,  sometimes 
lengthened  as  in  the  comedians, — 

"  inimicitiam  agitanteN." 

"Very  rarely  does  he  improperly  shorten  a  naturally  long  vowel, 
e.g.  contra  (twice) ;  terminations  in  5  he  invariably  retains,  except 
ego  and  modo.  The  final  s  is  generally  elided  before  a  consonant 
when  in  the  thesis  of  the  foot,  but  often  remains  in  the  arsis  (e.g. 
plenu?  Jidei,  Isqne  dies).  The  two  chief  blots  on  his  versification 
are  his  barbarous  examples  of  tmesis, — saxo  cere  comminuit  town  : 
Massili  port  ant  invenes  ad  litora  tanas  (  =  cerebrum,  Massili- 
tanas),  and  his  quaint  apocope,  cael,  gau,  do  (caelum,  gaudiam, 
domum),  probably  reflected  from  the  Homeric  Sw,  /cpt,  in  which 
Lucilius  imitates  him,  e.g.  nol.  (for  nobieris).  The  caesura,  which 
forms  the  chief  feature  in  each  verse,  was  not  understood  by  Ennius. 
Several  of  his  lines  have  no  caesura  at  all ;  and  that  delicate 
alternation  of  its  many  varieties  which  charms  us  in  Homer  and 
Virgil,  is  foreign  to  the  conception,  as  it  would  have  been  unattain- 
able by  the  efforts,  of  the  rugged  epic  bard.  Nevertheless  hia 
labour  achieved  a  great  result.     He  stamped  for  centuries  the 


EPIC  POETKY— ENNIUS.  73 

character  and  almost  the  details  of  subsequent  versification.1  II 
we  study  the  effect  of  his  passages,  we  shall  observe  far  greater 
power  in  single  lines  or  sentences  than  in  a  continuous  description. 
The  solemn  grandeur  of  some  of  his  verses  is  unsurpassable,  and, 
enshrined  in  the  Aeneid,  their  dignity  seems  enhanced  by  their 
surroundings.     Such  are — 

"  Tuque  pater  Tiberine  tuo  cum  .lumine  sancto." 

"  Unus  homo  nobis  cunctando  restituit  rem." 

"  Quae  neque  Dardaniis  cam  pis  potuere  perire 

Nee  quc-m  capta  capi,  nee  quc-m  combusta  cremari, 
Augusto  augurio  postquam  incluta  condita  Roma  est." 

On  the  other  hand  he  sometimes  falls  into  pure  prose ; 

"  Cives  Romani  turn  facti  sunt  Campani," 

and  the  hke,  are  scarcely  metre,  certainly  not  poetry.  Later 
epicists  in  their  desire  to  avoid  this  fault  over  elaborate  their 
commonplace  passages.  Ennius  tries,  however  clumsily,  to  copy 
Homer  in  dismissing  them  without  ornament.  The  one  or  two 
similes  that  are  preserved  are  among  his  least  happy  efforts.2 
Among  battle  scenes  he  is  more  at  home,  and  these  he  paints  with 
reality  and  strength.  There  are  three  passages  of  considerable 
length,  which  the  reader  who  desires  to  judge  of  his  narrative 
power  should  study.  They  are  the  dream  of  Ilia  and  the  auspices 
of  Romulus  in  the  first  book,  and  the  description  of  the  friend  of 
Servilius  in  the  seventh.  This  last  is  generally  thought  to  be  a 
picture  of  the  poet  himself,  and  to  intimate  in  the  most  pleasing 
language  his  relations  to  his  great  patron.  For  a  singularly 
appreciative  criticism  of  these  fragments  the  student  is  referred  to 
Sellar's  Poets  of  the  Republic.  The  massive  Roman  vigour  of  treat- 
ment which  shone  forth  in  the  Annals  and  made  them  as  it  were  a 
rock-hewn  monument  of  Rome's  glory,  secured  to  Ennius  afar  greater 
posthumous  renown  than  that  of  any  of  the  other  early  poets.  Cicero 
extols  him,  and  has  no  words  too  contemptuous  for  those  who  despise 
him.     Lucretius  praises  him  in  the  well  known  words — 

"  Ennius  ut  noster  cecinit,  qui  primus  amoeno 
Detnlit  ex  Helicon e  perenni  fronde  coronam, 
Per  gentis  Italas  hominum  quae  clara  clueret."3 


1  The  shortening  of  final  o,  ergti,  ponS,  vigilandtf,  through  the  influence  of 
accent,  is  almost  the  only  change  made  after  Ennius  except  in  a  few  proper 
names. 

2  Compare  triat  of  the  horse  (II.  vi.  506),  "Et  turn  sicut  equus  qui  de  prae- 
sepibu'  fartus  Vincla  suis  magma  animis  abrupit,  et  inde  Fert  sese  campj 
per  caerula  laetaque  prata  Celso  pectore,  saepe  iubam  quassat  simul  altam 
Spiritus  ex  anima  calida  spumas  agit  albas,"  with  Virg.   <Ven.  xi.  492. 

8  Lucr.  i.  111. 


74  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Viigil,  it  is  true,  never  mentions  him,  but  he  imitates  him  con*  \ 
tinually.  Ovid,  with  generous  appreciation,  allows  the  greatnesi 
of  his  talent,  though  he  denies  him  art  j1  and  the  later  imperial 
writers  are  even  affected  in  their  admiration  of  him.  He  continued 
to  be  read  through  the  Middle  Ages,  and  was  only  lost  as  late  as 
the  thirteenth  century. 

Ermiiis  produced  a  few  scattered  imitators,  but  not  until  upwards 
of  two  generations  after  his  death,  if  we  except  the  doubtful  case 
of  Accius.  The  first  is  Matius,  who  translated  the  Iliad  into  hexa- 
meters. This  may  be  more  properly  considered  as  the  sequel  to 
Livius,  but  the  few  fragments  remaining  show  that  his  versifica- 
tion was  based  on  that  of  Ennius.  Gellius,  with  his  partiality  for 
all  that  was  archaic,  warmly  praises  this  work. 

Hostius  wrote  the  Bellum  Islricum  in  three  books.     This  was 

no  doubt  a  continuation  of  the  great  master's  Annates,     What  the 

war  was  is  not  quite  certain.     Some  fix  it  at  178  b.c.  ;  others  as 

late  as  129  b.c.     The  earlier  date  is  the  more  probable.    We  then 

have  to  ask  when  Hostius  himself  lived.     Teuffel  inclines  to  place 

him  before  Accius ;  but  most  commentators  assign  him  a  later 

date.     A  few  lines  are  preserved  in  Macrobius,2  which  seem  to 

point  to  an  early  period,  e.g. 

"non  si  mihi  linguae 
Centum  atque  ora  sient  totidein  vocesque  liquatae," 

and  again, 

"  Dia  Minerva,  semol  autem  tu  invictus  Apollo 
Arquitenens  Latonius." 

His  object  in  quoting  these  is  to  show  that  they  were  copied  by 
VirgiL  A  passage  in  Propertius  has  been  supposed  to  refer  <o 
him,3 

"  Splendidaque  a  docto  fama  refulget  avo," 

where  he  would  presumably  be  the  grandfather  of  that  Hostia 
whom  under  the  name  of  Cynthia  so  many  of  Propertius's  poems 
celebrate.  Another  poet  of  whom  a  few  lines  are  preserved  in 
Gellius  and  Macrobius  is  A.  Furius  of  Antium,  which  little  town 
produced  more  than  one  well-known  writer.  His  work  was  entitled 
Annals,     Specimens  of  his  versification  are — 

"  Intersa  Oceani  linquens  Aurora  cubile." 

•'  Quod  genus  hoc  hominum  Saturno  sancte  create?" 

"  Pressatur  pede  pes,  mucro  mucrone,  viro  vir."4 


*  Tr.  ii.  424.  a  Sat.  vi.  1.  3  III.  20.  8. 

*  Imitated  respectively,  Virg.  A.  iv.  585  ;  A.  i.  539  j  A.  x.  161. 


& 


CHAPTER  TOi 


The  Earlt  History  of  Satire  (Ennius  to  Lrcitnre), 

200-103  b.c. 

Satire,  as  every  one  knows,  is  the  one  branch  of  literature 
claimed  by  the  Romans  as  their  own.1  It  is,  at  any  rate,  the 
branch  in  which  their  excellence  is  most  characteristically  dis- 
played. Nor  is  the  excellence  confined  to  the  professed  satirists ; 
it  was  rather  inherent  in  the  genius  of  the  nation.  All  their 
serious  writings  tended  to  assume  at  times  a  satirical  spirit. 
Tragedy,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  rose  to  her  clearest  tones  in 
branding  with  contempt  the  superstitions  of  the  day.  The  epic 
verses  of  Ennius  are  not  without  traces  of  the  same  power.  The 
prose  of  Cato  abounds  with  sarcastic  reflections,  pointedly 
expressed.  The  arguments  of  Cicero's  theological  and  moral 
treatises  are  largely  sprinkled  with  satire.  The  whole  poem  of 
Lucretius  is  deeply  imbued  with  it :  few  writers  of  any  age 
have  launched  more  fiery  sarcasm  upon  the  fear  of  death,  or  the 
blind  passion  of  love  than  he  has  done  in  his  third  and  fourth 
books.  Even  the  gentle  Virgil  breaks  forth  at  times  into  earnest 
invective,  tipped  with  the  flame  of  satire  : 2  Dido's  bitter  irony, 
Turnus'  fierce  taunts,  show  that  he  could  wield  with  stern  effect 
this  specially  Roman  weapon.  Lucan  and  Seneca  affect  a  style 
which,  though  grotesque,  is  meant  to  be  satirical ;  while  at  the 
close  of  the  classical  period,  Tacitus  transforms  the  calm  domain 
of  history  into  satire,  more  burning  because  more  suppressed  than 
that  of  any  of  his  predecessors.3 

The  claim  to  an  independent  origin  advanced  by  Quintilian 
has  been  more  than  once  disputed.  The  name  Satire  hr\s  been 
alleged  as  indicative  of  a  Greek  original  (^arvpLKov).4     It  \a  true 

1  Satira  ;ota  nostra  est, — Quint,  x.  i. 

*  Aep.  vi.  847,  sqq.  G.  ii.  190  ;  ib.  4G1,  sqq. 

6  On  this  subject  the  reader  may  be  referred  to  Merivale's  excellent 
remarks  in  the  last  chapter  of  his  History  of  the  Komans  under  the  Empire. 

4  It  is  probable  that  there  were  two  kinds  of  Greek  8pa/j.a  crarvpiK6v  ;  the 
tragic,  of  which  we  have  an  example  in  the  Cyclops  of  Euripides,  whicls 
represented  the  gods  in  a  ludicrous  light,  and  was  abundantly  fu  nishetf 


76  HISTORY  OP  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

this  can  no  longer  be  maintained.  Still  some  have  thought  thai 
the  poems  of  Archilochus  or  the  Silli  may  have  suggested  the 
Roman  form  of  composition.  But  the  former,  though  full  of 
invective,  were  iambic  or  personal,  not  properly  satirical.  And 
the  Silli,  of  which  examples  are  found  in  Diogenes  Laertius  and 
Dio  Chrysostom,  were  rather  patched  together  from  the  verses  of 
sericus  writers,  forming  a  kind  of  Get, to  like  the  Carmen  NuptiaU 
of  Ausonius,  than  original  productions.  The  Eoman  Satire 
differed  from  these  in  being  essentially  didactic.  Besides 
ridiculing  the  vices  and  absurdities  of  individuals  or  of  society, 
it  had  a  serious  practical  purpose,  viz.  the  improvement  of  public 
culture  or  morals.  Thus  it  followed  the  old  Comedy  of  Athens 
in  its  plain  speaking,  and  the  method  of  Archilochus  in  its  bitter 
hostility  to  those  who  provoked  attack.  But  it  differed  from  the 
former  in  its  non-political  bias,  as  well  as  its  non-dramatic  form : 
and  from  the  latter  in  its  motive,  which  is  not  personal  enmity, 
but  public  spirit.  Thus  the  assertion  of  Horace,  that  Lucilius  is 
indebted  to  the  old  comedians,1  must  be  taken  in  a  general  sense 
only,  and  not  be  held  to  invalidate  the  generally  received  opinion 
that,  in  its  final  and  perfected  form,  Satire  was  a  genuine  product 
of  Rome. 

The  metres  adopted  by  Satire  was  originally  indifferent.  The 
Saturae  of  Ennius  were  composed  in  trochaics,  hexameters,  and 
iambics;  those  of  "Varro  (called  M>uippedn,  from  Menippus  of 
Gadara),  mingled  together  prose  and  verse.2  But  from  Lucilius 
onwards,  Satire,  accurately  so  called,  was  always  treated  in 
hexameter  verse.3 

Nevertheless,  Horace  is  unquestionably  right  in  saying  that  it 
had  more  real  affinity  for  prose  than  for  poetry  of  any  kind — 

"  Primnm  ego  me  illorum,  dederim  quibus  esse  poetis, 
Kxcerpani  numero:  neque  enim  concludere  versum 
Dixeris  esse  satis  ;  neque  si  quis  sen  bat,  uti  nos, 
Sermoni  propiora,  pates  hune  esse  poetam."  4 

The  essence  of  satiric  tabnt  is  that  it  should  be  able  to  under- 
stand  the  complexities   of   real   life,   that   it   should   penetrate 

with  Sileni,  Satyrs,  &e.  ;  and  the  comic,  which  was  cultivated  at  Alexandria, 
and  certainly  represented  the  follies  and  vices  of  contemporary  life  under  the 
dramatic  guise  of  heroic  incident.  But  it  is  the  non-dramatic  character  of 
Roman  Satire  that  at  once  distinguishes  it  from  these  forms. 

1  See  Hor.  S.  i.  iv.  1-6. 

2  These  were  of  a  somewhat  different  type,  and  will  not  be  further  dis- 
cussed here.     See  p.  144.     Cf.  Quint,  x.  1,  95. 

s  Not  invariably,  however,   by   Lucilius  himself.      He  now  and   then 
employed  the  trochaic  or  iambic  metres. 
4  Sat.  i.  iv.  39,  and  more  to  the  same  effect  in  the  later  part  of  the  satire. 


SATIRE.  77 

beneath  the  surface  to  the  true  motives  of  action,  and  if  these  are 
bad,  should  indicate  by  life-like  touches  their  ridiculous  or  con- 
temptible nature.  There  is  room  here  for  great  variety  of  treat- 
ment and  difference  of  personnel.  One  may  have  a  broad  and 
masculine  giasp  of  the  main  outlines  of  social  intercourse ;  another 
with  subtler  analysis  may  thread  his  way  through  the  intricacies 
of  dissimulation,  and  lav  hare  to  the  hvpocrite  secrets  which  he 
had  concealed  even  from  Himself;  a  tmrd  may  select*  certain 
provinces  of  conduct  or  thought,  and  by  a  good-humoured  but 
discriminating  portraiture,  throw  them  into  so  new  and  clear  a 
light,  as  to  enable  mankind  to  look  at  them,  free  from  the 
prejudices  with  which  convention  so  often  blinds  our  view. 

The  qualifications  for  excelling  in  this  kind  of  writing  are 
clearly  such  as  have  no  special  connection  with  poetry.  Had  the 
modern  prose  essay  existed  at  Rome,  it  is  probable  the  satirists 
would  have  availed  themselves  of  it.  From  the  fragments  of 
Lucilius  we  should  judge  that  he  found  the  trammels  of  verse 
somewhat  embarrassing.  Practice  had  indeed  enabled  him  to 
write  with  unexampled  fluency ; l  but  except  in  this  mechanical 
facility  he  shows  none  of  the  characteristics  of  a  poet.  The 
accumulated  experience  of  modern  life  has  pronounced  in  favour 
of  abandoning  the  poetic  form,  and  including  Satire  in  the 
domain  of  prose.  No  doubt  many  celebrated  poets  in  France 
and  England  have  cultivated  verse  satire ;  but  in  most  cases  they 
have  merely  imitated,  whereas  the  prose  essay  is  a  true  formation 
of  modern  literary  art.  Conington,  in  an  interesting  article,2 
regards  the  progressive  enlargement  of  the  sphere  of  prose  com- 
position as  a  test  of  a  nation's  intellectual  advance.  Thus  con- 
sidered, poetry  is  the  imperfect  attempt  to  embody  in  vivid 
language  ideas  which  have  themselves  hardly  assumed  definite 
form,  and  necessarily  gives  way  to  prose  when  clearness  of 
thought  and  sequence  of  reasoning  have  established  for  themselves 
a  more  perfect  vehicle.  However  inadequate  such  a  view  may  be 
to  explain  the  full  nature  of  poetry,  it  is  certainly  true  so  far  as 
concerns  the  case  at  present  before  us.  The  assignment  of  each 
special  exercise  of  mind  to  its  proper  department  of  literature  is 
undoubtedly  a  late  growth  of  human  culture,  and  such  nations  as 
have  not  attained  to  it,  whatever  may  be  the  splendour  of  their 
literary  creations,  cannot  be  said  to  have  reached  the  full  maturity 
of  intellectual  development. 

The  conception  of  Satire  by  the  ancients  is  illusttated  by  a 

1  "  In  hora  siepe  ducentos  ut  multum  versus  dictabat  stans  pede  in  uoo.* 
Sat.  1,  iv.  9. 
3  Posthumous  Works,  vol.  ii.  on  the  Study  of  Latin. 


78  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

passage  in  Diomedes : x  "  Satira  dicitur  carmen  apud  Romano* 
nunc  quidem  maledicum  et  ad  carpenda  hominum  vitia  archaeae 
comoediae  charactere  compositum,  quale  scripserunt  Luciiius  el 
Horatius  et  Persius ;  at  olim  carmen  quod  ex  varus  poematibus 
constabat  satira  oocabatur,  quale  scripserunt  Pacuvius  et  Ennuis." 
This  old-fashioned  satura  of  Ennius  may  be  considered  as  half- 
way between  the  early  semi-dramatic  farce  and  the  classical  Satire. 
It  was  a  genuine  medley,  containing  all  kinds  of  subjects,  often 
couched  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  but  intended  for  recitation,  not 
ibr  action.  The  poem  on  Scipio  was  classed  with  it,  but  what 
this  poem  was  is  not  by  any  means  clear ;  from  the  fragment  that 
remains,  describing  a  calm  after  storm  in  sonorous  language,  we 
should  gather  that  Scipio's  return  voyage  from  Africa  may  have 
formed  its  theme.2  Other  subjects,  included  in  the  Saturae  of 
Ennius,  were  the  Hedypluujetica,  a  humorous  didactic  poem 
on  the  mysterie3  of  gastronomy,  which  may  have  suggested 
similar  effusions  by  Luciiius  and  Horace;3  the  Epich armies  and 
Euhemerus,  both  in  trochaics,  the  latter  a  free  translation  of  the 
Upb.  avaypacj>rj,  or  explanation  of  the  gods  as  deified  mortals ;  and 
the  Epigrams,  among  which  two  on  the  great  Scipio  are  still  pre- 
served, the  first  breathing  the  spirit  of  the  Eepublic,  the  second 
asserting  with  some  airogance  the  exploits  of  the  hero,  and  his 
claims  to  a  place  among  the  denizens  of  heaven.4 

Of  the  Saturae  of  Pacuvius  nothing  is  known.  C.  Lucilius 
(148-103  b.c),  the  founder  of  classical  Satire,  was  born  in  the 
Latin  town  of  Suessa  Auiunca  in  Campania.  He  belonged  to 
an  equestrian  family,  and  was  in  easy  circumstances.5  He  is 
supposed  to  have  fought  under  Scipio  in  the  Numantine  war  (133 
b.c.)  when  he  was  still  quite  a  youth;  and  it  is  certain  from 
Horace  that  he  lived  on  terms  of  the  greatest  intimacy,  both  with 
him,  Laelius,  and  Albinus.  He  is  said  to  have  possessed  the 
house  which  had  been  built  at  the  public  expense  for  the  son  of 
King  Antiochus,  and  to  have  died  at  Naples,  where  he  was 
honoured  with  a  public  funeral,  in  the  forty-si  vth  year  of  his 
age.  His  position,  at  once  independent  and  unambitious  (for  he 
could  not  hold  office  in  Rome),  gave  him  the  best  possible  chance 

1  iii.  p.  481,  P.  (Teuflel).  2  201,  B.C. 

8  As,  e.g.  the  Precepts  of  0  fell  a,  S.  ii.  2,  and  the  Unde  et  quo  Catiusl 
S.    ii.  4. 

4  The   words  are,  (1)   "Hie  est  ille  situs,  cni  nemo  civis  neque  hostii 
Quivit  pro  factis  reddere  operae  pretium,"    where  "operae"  must  be  pro 
nounced  "op'rae;"   (2)  "  A  sole  exoriente  supra  Maeotis  paludes  Nemo  est 
qui  factis  me  acquiparare  queat.     Si  fas  endo  plagas  taelestum  ascenders 
cuiquam  est,  Mi  soli  caeli  maxima  porta  patet.' 

8  Intra  Lucili  censura,  Sat.  ii.  1,  75. 


LUCILIUS.  79 

of  observing  social  and  political  life,  and  of  this  chance  he  made 
the  fullest  use.  He  lived  behind  the  scenes  :  he  saw  the  corrup- 
tion prevalent  in  high  circles ;  he  saw  also  the  true  greatness  oi 
those  who,  like  Scipio,  stood  aloof  from  it,  and  he  handed  down 
to  imperishable  infamy  each  most  signal  instance  of  vice,  whether 
in  a  statesman,  as  Lupus,1  Metellus,  or  Albucius,  or  in  a  private 
person,  as  the  glutton  Gallonius. 

It  is  possible  that  he  now  and  then  misapplied  his  pen  to  abuse 
his  own  enemies  or  those  of  his  friends,  for  we  know  that  the 
honourable  Mucius  Scaevola  was  violently  attacked  by  him ; 2  and 
there  is  a  story  that  being  once  lampooned  in  the  theatre  in  a 
libellous  manner,  the  poet  sued  his  detractor,  but  failed  in  obtaining 
damages,  on  the  ground  that  he  himself  had  done  the  same  to 
others.  Nevertheless,  there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  on 
the  whole  he  nobly  used  the  power  he  possessed,  that  his  tren- 
chant pen  was  mainly  enlisted  on  the  side  of  patriotism,  virtue, 
and  enlightenment,  and  that  he  lashed  without  mercy  corruption, 
hypocrisy,  and  ignorance.  The  testimony  of  Horace  to  his  worth, 
coming  from  one  who  himself  was  not  easily  deceived,  is  entitled 
to  the  highest  consideration;3  that  of  Juvenal,  though  more 
emphatic,  is  not  more  weighty,4  and  the  opinion,  blamed  by 
Quintilian,5  that  he  should  be  placed  above  all  other  poets,  shows 
that  his  plain  language  did  not  hinder  the  recognition  of  his  moral 
excellence. 

Although  a  companion  of  the  great,  he  was  strictly  popular  in 
his  tone.  He  appealed  to  the  great  public,  removed  on  the  one 
hand  from  accurate  learning,  on  the  other  from  indifference  to 
knowledge.  "  Nee  doctissimis"  he  says,6  "  Manium  Persium  haec 
legere  nolo,  Junium  Con  gum  volo"  And  in  another  passsage 
quoted  by  Cicero,7  he  professes  to  desire  that  his  readers  may  be 
the  Tarentines,  Consentines,  and  Sicilians, — those,  that  is,  whose 
Latin  grammar  and  spelling  most  needed  improvement.  But  we 
cannot  extend  this  humility 8  to  his  more  famous  political  allu- 
sions. Those  at  any  rate  would  be  nothing  if  not  known  to  the 
parties  concerned ;  neither  the  poet's  genius  nor  the  culprit's  guilt 
could  otherwise  be  brought  home  to  the  individual. 

In  one  sense  Lucilius  might  be  called  a  moderniser,  lor  he 
strove  hard  to  enlarge  the  people's  knowledge  and  views ;  but  in 

1  L.  Corn.  Lentulus  Lupus.  2  Pers.  i.  115. 

•  "  Primores  populi  arripuit  populumque  tributini, 

Scilicet  uni  aequus  virtuti  atque  eius  amicis." — Hor.  Sat.  ii.  1,  69. 
4  Ense  velut  stricto  quoties  Lucilius  ardens  Infremuit,  rubet  auditor  cui 
frigida  mens  est  Criminibus,  tacita  sudant  praecordia  culpa. — Juv.  i.  165. 
«  X.  i.  93.  6  Plin.  N.  H.  Praef. 

7  J)e  Fin.  i.  3,  7.  8  "Lucilianae  humilitatis." — letronius. 


80  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

another  and  higher  sense  he  was  strictly  national :  luxury,  bribery, 
and  sloth,  were  to  him  the  very  poison  of  all  true  life,  and  cut  at 
the  root  of  those  virtues  by  which  alone  Rome  could  remain 
great.  This  national  spirit  caused  him  to  be  preferred  to  Horace 
by  conservative  minds  in  the  time  of  Tacitus,  but  it  probably 
made  his  critics  somewhat  over-indulgent.  Horace,  with  all  his 
admiration  for  him,  cannot  shut  his  eyes  to  his  evident  faults,1 
the  rudeness  of  his  language,  the  carelessness  of  his  composition, 
the  habit  of  mixing  Greek  and  Latin  words,  which  his  zealous 
admirers  construed  into  a  virtue,  and,  last  but  not  least,  the 
diffuseness  inseparable  from  a  hasty  draft  which  he  took  no 
trouble  to  revise.  Still  his  elegance  of  language  must  have  been 
considerable.  Pliny  speaks  of  him  as  the  first  to  establish  a 
severe  criticism  of  style,2  and  the  fragments  reveal  beneath  the 
obscuring  garb  of  his  uncouth  hexameters,  a  terse  and  pure  idiom 
not  unlike  that  of  Terence.  His  faults  are  numerous,3  but  do  not 
seriously  detract  from  his  value.  The  loss  of  his  works  must  be 
considered  a  serious  one.  Had  they  been  extant  we  should  have 
found  useful  information  in  his  pictures  of  life  and  manneis  in 
a  state  of  moral  transition,  amusement  in  such  pieces  as  his 
journal  of  a  progress  from  Kome  to  Capua,4  and  material  foT 
philological  knowledge  in  his  careful  distinctions  of  orthography 
and  grammar. 

As  a  favourable  specimen  of  his  stvle,  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
quote  his  definition  of  virtue  : 

*'  Virtus,  Albine,  est  pretium  persolvere  vemm 
Quis  in  versamur,  quis  vivinius  rebus  potesse. 
Virtus  est  homini  scire  id  quod  quaeque  habeat  res. 
Virtus  scire  homini  rectum,  utile,  quid  sit  honestum, 
Quae  bona,  quae  mala  item,  quid  inutile,  turpe,  inhonestuin. 
Virtus,  qur.erendae  fin  em  rei  scire  modumque  ; 
Virtus  divitiis  pretium  persolvere  posse. 
Virtus,  id  dare  quod  reip.su  debetur  honori, 
Hostem  esse  atque  inimicum  hominum  morumque  malortnn  » 
Contra,  defensorem  hominum  morumque  bonorum ; 
MagniHcare  hos,  his  bene  vvllc,  his  vivere  ainicum  ; 
Commoda  praeterea  pntriai  prima  putare, 
Deinde  parentum,  tenia  iam  postremaque  nostra." 

We  see  in  these  lines  a  practical   and  unselfish  standard — that 

1  Sat.  i.  x.  2  Primus  condidit  stili  nasutn,  N.  H.  Praef*. 

8  As  instances  we  may  take  "Has  res  ad  te  sciiptas  Luci  misimus  Aeli  :* 
again,   "Si  minus  delectat,   quod   arexvov   e^   Eisocratiumst,   A7jpco5esqut 
gimul  totum  ac  sunijueipa/aciDSes  .     ."  or  worse   still,    "Villa    Lucani  moj 
potieris  aca"  for  "  Lucaniaca,"  quoted  by  Ausonius,  who  adds  "  Lucili  vati 
sic  imitator  eris." 

4  From  which  Hor.  borro'vcd  his  Iter  ad  Brand isium. 


LUCILIUS.  81 

of  the  cultivated  but  still  truly  patriotic  Koman,  admitting  the 
necessity  of  knowledge  in  a  way  his  ancestors  might  have  ques- 
tioned, but  keeping  steadily  to  the  main  points  of  setting  a  true 
price  upon  all  human  things,  and  preferring  the  good  of  one's 
country  to  personal  advantage.  This  is  a  morality  intelligible  to 
all,  and  if  it  falls  below  the  higher  enlightenment  of  modern 
knowledge,  it  at  least  soars  above  the  average  practice.  "We  are 
informed 1  that  Lucilius  did  not  spare  his  immediate  predecessors 
and  contemporaries  in  literature  any  more  than  in  politics.  He 
attacked  Accius  for  his  unauthorised  innovations  in  spelling, 
Pacuvius  and  Ennius  for  want  of  a  sustained  level  of  dignity. 
His  satire  seems  to  have  ranged  over  the  whole  field  of  life,  so  far 
as  it  was  known  to  him;  and  though  his  learning  was  in  no 
department  deep,2  it  was  sound  so  far  as  it  went,  and  was  guided 
by  natural  good  taste.  He  will  always  retain  an  interest  for  us 
from  the  charming  picture  given  by  Horace  of  his  daily  life ;  how 
he  kept  his  books  beside  him  like  the  best  of  friends,  as  indeed 
they  were,  and  whatever  he  felt,  thought,  or  saw,  intrusted  to 
their  faithful  keeping,  whence  it  comes  that  the  man's  life  stands  as 
vividly  before  one's  eyes  as  if  it  had  been  painted  on  a  votive  tablet. 
Then  the  way  in  which  Laelius  and  Scipio  unbent  in  his  com- 
pany, mere  youth  as  he  was  compared  to  them,  gives  us  a  pleasing 
notion  of  his  social  gifts ;  he  who  could  make  the  two  grave 
statesmen  so  far  forget  their  decorum  as  to  romp  in  the  manner 
Horace  describes,  must  at  least  have  been  gifted  with  contagious 
light-heartedness.  This  genial  humour  Horace  tried  with  success 
to  reproduce,  but  he  is  conscious  of  inferiority  to  the  master.  In 
English  literature  Dryden  is  the  writer  who  most  recalls  him, 
though  rather  in  his  higher  than  in  his  more  sportive  moods. 

^or.S.  i.  x.  i(Hc  de  Fin.  L  %  7. 


CHAPTER  yin. 

The  Minor  Departments  op  Poetry — The  Atellanae  (Pom. 
poniu3  and  !n~ovius,  circ.  90  b.c.)  and  the  epigram 
(Ennius — Catulus,  100  b.c). 

The  last  class  of  dramatic  poets  whom  we  shall  mention  in  the 
first  period  are  the  writers  of  Atellanae.  These  entertainments 
originated  at  the  little  town  of  Atella,  now  St  Arpino,  between 
Capua  and  Naples  in  the  Oscan  territory,  and  were  at  first  com- 
posed in  the  Oscan  dialect.  Their  earliest  cultivation  at  Rome 
seems  to  date  not  long  after  360  b.c,  in  which  year  the  Etruscan 
histriones  were  first  imported  into  Rome.  The  novelty  of  this 
amusement  attracted  the  Roman  youths,  and  they  began  to 
imitate  both  the  Etruscan  dancers  and  the  Oscan  performers,  who 
had  introduced  the  Atellane  fables  into  Rome.  After  the  libellous 
freedom  of  speech  in  which  they  at  first  indulged  had  bee'n  re- 
strained by  law,  the  Atellanae  seem  to  have  established  them- 
selves as  a  privileged  form  of  pleasantry,  in  which  the  young 
nobles  could,  without  incurring  the  disgrace  of  removal  from  their 
tribe  or  incapacity  for  military  service,  indulge  their  readiness  of 
speech  and  impromptu  dramatic  talent.1  During  rather  more 
than  two  centuries  this  custom  continued,  the  performance  con- 
sisting of  detached  scenes  without  any  particular  connection,  but 
full  of  jocularity,  and  employing  a  fixed  set  of  characters.  The 
language  used  may  have  been  the  Oscan,  but,  considering  the 
fact  that  a  knowledge  of  that  dialect  was  not  universal  at  Rome,2 
it  was  more  probably  the  popular  or  plebeian  Latin  interspersed 
with  Oscan  elements.  No  progress  towards  a  literary  form  is 
observable  until  the  time  of  Sulla,  but  they  continued  to  receive  a 
countenance  from  the  authorities  that  was  not  accorded  to  other 
forms  of  the  drama.  We  find,  for  example,  that  when  theatrical 
representations  were  interdicted,  an  exception  was  made  in  their 
favour.3     Though  coarse  and  often  obscene,  they  were  considered 

1  Liv.  vii.  2.     The  account,  however,  is  extremely  confused, 
*  Liv.  x.  208,  gnaros  Oscae  linguae  exploratum  iuittit. 
8  See  Teuff.  R.  Lit.  9,  §  4. 


THE  ATELLANAE.  83 

as  consistent  with  gentlemanly  behaviour ;  thus  Cicero,  in  a  well- 
known  passage  in  one  of  his  letters,1  contrasts  them  with  the 
Mimes,  secundum  Oenomaum  Accii  non,  ut  olim  solebat,  AieU 
lanam,  sed,  ut  nunc  fit,  mi  mum  infroduxisti ;  and  Valerius  Maxi- 
mus  implies  that  they  did  not  carry  their  humour  to  extravagant 
lengths,2  but  tempered  it  with  Italian  severity.  From  the  few 
fragments  that  remain  to  us  we  should  be  inclined  to  form  a 
different  opinion,  and  to  suspect  that  national  partiality  in  con- 
trasting them  with  the  Graecized  form  of  the  Mimi  kept  itself 
blind  to  their  more  glaring  faults.  The  characters  that  of tene&t 
reappear  in  them  are  Maccus,  Bucco,  and  Pappus;  the  first  of 
these  is  prefixed  to  the  special  title,  e.g.  Maccus  miles,  Maccus 
virgo.  He  seems  to  have  been  a  personage  with  an  immense 
head,  who,  corresponding  to  our  clown  or  harlequin,  came  in  for 
many  hard  knocks,  but  was  a  general  favourite.  Pappus  took 
the  place  of  pantaloon,  and  was  the  general  butt. 

Novius  (circ.  100  B.C.),  whom  Macrobius3  calls  probatissimus 
Atcllanarum  script  or,  was  the  first  to  reduce  this  species  to  the 
rules  of  art,  giving  it  a  plot  and  a  written  dialogue.  Several 
fragments  remain,  but  for  many  centuries  they  were  taken  for 
those  of  ISTaevius,  whence  great  confusion  ensued.  A  better  known 
writer  is  L.  Pomponius  (90  b.c.)  of  Bononia,  who  nourished  in 
the  time  of  Sulla,  and  is  said  to  have  persuaded  that  cultured 
sensualist  to  compose  Atellanae  himself.  Upwards  of  thirty  of  his 
plays  are  cited;4  but  although  a  good  many  lines  are  preserved, 
no  fragments  are  long  enough  to  give  a  good  notion  of  his  style. 
The  commendations,  however,  with  which  Cicero,  Seneca,  Gellius, 
and  Priscian  load  him,  prove  that  he  was  classed  with  good 
writers.  Prom  the  list  given  below,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  sub- 
jects were  mostly,  though  not  always,  from  low  life ;  some  remind 
us  of  the  regular  comedies,  as  the  Si/ri  and  Dotata.  The  old- 
fashioned  ornaments  of  puns  and  alliteration  abound  in  him,  as 
well  as  extreme  coarseness.  The  fables,  which  were  generally 
represented  after  the  regular  play  as  an  interlude  or  farce,  are 
mentioned  by  Juvenal  in  two  of  his  satires  : 5 

"  Urbicus  exodio  risum  movet  Atellanae  Gestibus  Autonoes;* 

1  Ad  Fam.  ix.  16,  7.  2  Yal.  Max.  ii.  1.  ■  Sat.  i.  10,  3. 

4  The  names  are  Aleones,  Prostibulum,  Pannuceatae,  Nuptiae,  Privigrus, 
Piscatores,  Ergastulum,  Patruus,  Asinaria,  Rusticus,  Dotata,  Decuma 
Fullonis,  Praeco,  Bucco,  Macci  gemini, Verres  aegrotus,  Pistor,  Syri,  Medicus, 
Maialis,  Sarcularius,  Augur,  Petitor,  Anulus,  Praefectus,  Arista,  Hernia, 
Poraria,  Marsupium,  Aeditumus,  Auctoratus,  Satyra,  Galli,  Transalpine 
Maccus  miles,  Maccus  sequester,  Pappus  Agricola,  Leno,  Lar  familiaris,  Aro- 

»  iii.  X74   vi.  71. 


84  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  in  his  pretty  description  of  a  rustic  fete— 

°  Ipsa  dierum 
FeStorum  herboso  colitur  si  quando  theatro 
Maiestas,  tand<  mque  redit  ad  pnlpita  notiim 
Exodium,  cum  personae  pallet  tis  hiatum 
In  greniio  matris  formitlat  rusticus  infans; 
Aequalos  habitus  illic,  sirnilemque  videbis 
Orchestram  et  populum.  ..." 

They  endured  a  while  under  the  empire,  when  we  hear  of  a  com 
poser  named  Mummius,  of  some  note,  but  in  the  general  decline 
they  became  merged  in  the  pantomime,  into  which  all  kinds  of 
dramatic  art  gradually  converged. 

If  the  Atellanae  were  the  most  indigenous  form  of  literature  in 
which  the  young  nobles  indulged,  the  different  kinds  of  love-poem 
were  certainly  the  least  in  accordance  with  the  Roman  traditions 
of  art.  Nevertheless,  unattainable  as  was  the  spontaneous  grace  of 
the  Greek  erotic  muse,  there  were  some  who  aspired  to  cultivate  her. 

Few  kinds  of  verse  more  attracted  the  Roman  amateurs  than  the 
Epigram.  There  was  something  congenial  to  the  Eoman  spirit  in 
the  pithy  distich  or  tetrastich  winch  formed  so  considerable  an 
element  in  the  "elegant  extracts"  of  Alexandria.  The  term 
epir/ram  has  altered  its  meaning  with  the  lapse  of  ages.  In  Greek 
it  signified  merely  an  inscription  commemorative  of  some  work  of 
art,  person,  or  event ;  its  virtue  was  to  be  short,  and  to  be  appro- 
priate. The  most  perfect  writer  of  epigrams  in  the  Greek  sense 
was  Simonides, — nothing  can  exceed  the  exquisite  simplicity  that 
lends  an  undying  charm  to  his  effusions.  The  epigrams  on 
Leonides  and  on  Marathon  are  well  known.  The  metre  selected 
was  the  elegiac,  on  account  of  its  natural  pause  at  the  close  of  the 
second  line.  The  nearest  approach  to  such  simple  epigrams  are 
the  epitaphs  of  Naevius,  Ennius,  and  especially  Pacuvius,  already 
quoted.  This  natural  grace,  however,  was,  even  in  Greek  poetry, 
superseded  by  a  more  artificial  style.  The  sparkling  epigram  of 
Plato  addressed  to  a  fair  boy  has  been  often  imitated,  and  most 
writers  after  him  are  not  satisfied  without  playing  on  some  fine 
thought,  or  turning  some  graceful  point ;  so  that  the  epigram  by 
little  and  little  approached  the  form  which  in  its  purest  age  the 
Italian  sonnet  possessed.  In  this  guise  it  was  cultivated  with 
taste  and  brilliancy  at  Alexandria,  Callimachus  especially  being  t 
finished  master  of  it.  The  first  Roman  epigrammatists  imitate  the 
Alexandrine  models,  and,  making  allowance  for  the  uncouth  hard- 
ness of  their  rhythm,  achieve  a  fair  success.  Of  the  epigrams  of 
Ennius,  only  the  three  already  quoted  remain.1     Tliree  authon 

1  Viz.  his  own  epitaph,  and  those  on  Scipio,  p.  78,  n.  4. 


THE  EPIGRAM.  8c 

aru  mentioned  by  Aulus  Gellius1  as  Laving  raised  the  Latin 
Epigram  to  a  level  with  Anacreon  in  sweetness,  point,  and  neat- 
ness. This  is  certainly  far  too  high  praise.  Nor,  even  if  it  were 
so,  can  we  forget  that  the  poems  he  quotes  (presumably  the  best 
he  could  find)  are  obvious  imitations,  if  not  translations,  from  the 
Greek.  The  first  is  by  Q.  Lutatius  Catulus,  and  dates  about 
100  B. a     It  is  entitled  Ad  Theotimum : 

u  Aufugit  mi  animus  ;  credo,  ut  solet,  ad  Theotimum 

Devenit  :  sic  est :  perfugium  illud  liabet. 
Quid  si  non  interdixem  ne  illuc  fugitivum 

Mitteret  ad  se  intro,  sed  magis  eiiceret  ? 
Ibinius  quaesitum  :  verum  ne  ipsi  tenearaur 

Formido  :  quid  ago  ?    Da,  Venus,  consilium." 

A  more  pleasing  example  of  his  style,  and  this  time  perhaps 
original,  is  given  by  Cicero.2  It  is  on  the  actor  Koscius,  who, 
when  a  boy,  was  renowned  for  his  beauty,  and  is  favourably  com- 
pared with  the  rising  orb  of  day  : 

"  Constiteram  exorientem  Auroram  forte  salutans, 
Cum  subito  e  laeva  Roscius  exoritur. 
Pace  mihi  liceat,  caelestes,  dicere  vestra  : 
Mortalis  visust  pulerior  esse  deo." 

This  piece,  as  may  be  supposed,  has  met  with  imitators  both  in 
French  and  Italian  literature.  A  very  similar  jeu  d'esprit  of 
Poroius  Licinus  is  quoted : 

"  Custodes  ovium,  teneraeque  propaginis  agnum, 

Quaeritis  ignem  ?  ite  hue  :  Quaeritis  ?  ignis  homo  est. 
Si  digito  attigero,  incendam  silvam  simul  omnem, 
Omne  pecus  :  fiamma  est  omnia  quae  video." 

This  Porcius  wrote  also  on  the  history  of  literature.  Some 
rather  ill-natured  lines  on  Terence  are  preserved  in  Suetonius.3 
He  there  implies  that  the  young  poet,  with  all  his  talent,  could 
not  keep  out  of  poverty,  a  taunt  which  we  have  good  reason  for 
disbelieving  as  well  as  disapproving.  Two  lines  on  the  rise  of 
poetry  at  Rome  deserve  quotation — 

•'  Poenico  bello  secundo  Musa  pinnato  gradu 
Intulit  se  bellicosam  Romuli  iu  gentem  feram.'-' 

A  certain  Pompilius  is  mentioned  by  Varro  as  having  epigram 
matic  tastes;   one   distich  that  is  preserved   gives  us  no  high 
notion  of  his  powers — 

"  Pacvi4  discipulus  dicor :  porro  is  fuit  Enni : 
Ennius  Musaium:  Pompilius  clueor." 

Lastly,  Valerius  Aedituus,  who  is  only  known  by  the  short 
1  idx.  9,  14.       ■  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  28,  79.       3  Vit.  Ter.       4  =  Pacuvi. 


86  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

notices  in  Varro  and  Gellius,  -wrote  similar  short  pices,  two  of 
which  are  preserved. 

AD  PAMPHILAM. 

"  Dicere  cum  conor  curam  tibi,  Pamphila,  cordis, 
Quid  mi  abs  te  quaeram  ?  verba  labrifl  abeunt 
Per  pectus  misernm  man  at  subito  mihi  sudor. 
Si  tacitus,  subidus:  duplo  ideo  pereo." 

AD  PCERUM  PHILEROTA. 

u  Quid  faculam  praefers,  Phileros,  qua  nil  opus  noMs? 

Ibimus,  hoc  lucet  pectore  flamma  satis. 
Illam  non  potis  est  vis  saeva  exstinguere  venti, 

Aut  imber  caelo  candMus  praecipitans. 
At  contra,  hunc  ignem  Veneris,  si  non  Venus  ipsa, 

Nulla  est  quae  possit  vis  alia  opprimc.e." 

We  have  quoted  these  pieces,  not  from  their  intrinsic  merit,  fof 
they  have  little  or  none,  but  to  show  the  painful  process  by 
which  Latin  versification  was  elaborated.  All  these  must  be 
referred  to  a  date  at  least  sixty  years  after  Ennius,  and  yet  the 
rhythm  is  scarcely  at  all  improved.  The  great  number  of  second- 
rate  poets  who  wrought  in  the  same  laboratory  did  good  work,  in 
so  far  that  they  made  the  technical  part  less  wearisome  for  poets 
like  Lucretius  and  Catullus.  With  mechanical  dexterity  taste 
also  slowly  improved  by  the  competing  effort  of  many  ordinary 
minds ;  but  it  did  not  make  those  giant  strides  which  nothing 
but  genius  can  achieve.  The  later  developments  of  the  Epigram 
will  bo  considered  in  a  subsequent  book. 


CHAPTEE  £C 

Prose  Literature — History.     Fabius  Piotor — Maokh 

(210-80  b.c). 

There  are  nations  among  whom  the  imagination  is  so  predomi- 
nant that  they  seem  incapable  of  regarding  tilings  as  they  are. 
The  literature  of  such  nations  will  always  be  cast  in  a  poetical 
mould,  even  when  it  takes  the  outward  form  of  prose.  Of  this 
class  India  is  a  conspicuous  example.  In  the  opposite  category 
stand  those  nations  which,  lacking  imaginative  power,  supply  its 
place  by  the  rich  colouring  of  rhetoric,  but  whose  poetry,  judged 
by  the  highest  standard,  does  not  rise  above  the  sphere  of  prose. 
Modern  France  is  perhaps  the  best  example  of  this.  The  same  is 
so  far  true  of  ancient  Eome  that  she  was  unquestionably  more 
productive  of  great  prose  writers  than  of  poets.  Her  utilitarian 
and  matter-of-fact  genius  inclined  her  to  approach  the  problems  of 
thought  and  life  from  a  prosaic  point  of  view.  Her  perceptions 
of  beauty  were  defective ;  her  sense  of  sympathy  between  man 
and  nature  (the  deepest  root  of  poetry)  slumbered  until  roused 
by  a  voice  from  without  to  momentary  life.  The  aspirations  and 
destiny  of  the  individual  soul  which  had  kindled  the  brightest 
light  of  Greek  song,  were  in  Eome  replaced  by  the  sovereign 
claims  of  the  Stase.  The  visible  City,  throned  on  Seven  Hills, 
the  source  and  emblem  of  imperial  power,  and  that  not  ideal  but 
actual,  was  a  theme  fitted  to  inspire  the  patriot  orator  or  historian, 
but  not  to  create  the  finer  susceptibilities  of  the  poet.  We  find 
in  accordance  with  this  fact,  that  Prose  Literature  was  approached, 
not  by  strangers  or  freedmen,  but  by  members  of  the  noblest 
houses  in  Eome.  The  subjects  were  given  by  the  features  of 
national  life.  The  wars  that  had  gained  dominion  abroad,  the 
eloquence  that  had  secured  power  at  home,  the  laws  that  had 
knit  society  together  and  made  the  people  great ;  these  were  the 
elements  on  which  Prose  Literature  was  based.  Its  developments, 
though  influenced  by  Greece,  are  truly  national,  and  on  them  the 
Eomar  character  is  indelibly  impressed.     The  first  to  establish 


88  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

itself  was  history.  The  struggles  of  the  first  Punic  war  had  bee* 
chronicled  in  the  rude  verse  of  N^evius ;  those  of  the  second  pro* 
duced  the  annals  of  Fabius  and  Cincius  Alimentus. 

From  the  earliest  period  the  Romans  had  a  clear  sense  of  the 
value  of  contemporary  records.  The  Annates  Maxlmi  or  Comment 
tarii  Pontificum  contained  the  names  of  magistrates  for  each  year, 
and  a  daily  record1  of  all  memorable  events  from  the  regal  times 
until  the  Pontificate  of  P.  Mucius  Scaevola  (133  b.c).  The 
occurrences  noted  wer*»#  ^owfvcr,  mostly  of  a  trivial  character, 
as  Cato  tells  us  in  a  fragment  of  his  Origines,  and  as  we  can  gather 
from  the  extracts  found  in  Livy.  The  Libri  Lintci,  mentioned 
several  times  by  Livy,2  were  written  on  rolls  of  linen  cloth,  and, 
besides  lists  of  magistrates,  contained  many  national  monuments, 
such  as  the  treaty  between  Rome  and  Carthage,  and  the  truce 
made  with  Ardea  and  Gabii.  Similar  notes  were  kept  by  the 
civil  magistrates  (Commentarii  Consulares,  Libri  Praetoruniy 
Tabulae  Censoriae)  and  stored  up  in  the  various  temples.  The 
greater  number  of  these  records  perished  in  the  capture  of  Rome 
by  the  Gauls,  and  when  Livy  speaks  of  them  as  existing  later, 
he  refers  not  to  the  originals,  but  to  copies  made  after  that 
event.  Such  yearly  registers  were  continued  to  a  late  period. 
One  of  the  most  important  was  discovered  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
embracing  a  list  of  the  great  magistracies  from  509  b.o.  till  the 
death  of  Augustus,  and  executed  in  the  reign  of  Tiberius.  Another 
source  of  history  was  the  family  register  kept  by  each  of  the 
great  houses,  and  treasured  with  peculiar  care.  It  was  probably 
more  than  a  mere  catalogue  of  actions  performed  or  honours 
gained,  since  many  of  the  more  distinguished  families  preserved 
their  records  as  witnesses  of  glories  that  in  reality  had  never 
existed,  but  were  the  invention  of  flattering  chroniclers  or  clients. 

The  radical  defect  in  the  Roman  conception  of  history  was  its 
narrowness.  The  idea  of  preserving  and  handing  down  truth  for 
its  own  sake  was  foreign  to  them.  The  very  accuracy  of  theii 
early  registers  was  based  on  no  such  high  principle  as  this.  It 
arose  simply  from  a  sense  of  the  continuity  of  the  Roman  common- 
wealth, from  national  pride,  and  from  considerations  of  utility. 
The  catalogue  of  prodigies,  pestilences,  divine  visitations,  expia- 
tions and  successful  propitiatory  ceremonies,  of  which  it  was  chiefly 
made  up,  was  intended  to  show  the  value  of  the  state  religion,  and 
to  secure  the  administration  of  it  in  patrician  hands.  It  was  indeed 
praiseworthy  that  considerations  so  patriotic  should  at  that  rude 
period   have   so   firmly  rooted  themselves  in  the  mind  of  the 

1  So  says  Servius,  but  this  can  hardly  be  correct.     See  the  note  at  th* 
end  of  the  chapter.  2  E.g.  iv.  7,  13,  %Sl 


HISTORY — FABIUS  PICTOK.  89 

governing  class ;  but  that  their  object  was  rather  to  consolidate 
+heir  own  power  and  advance  that  of  the  city  than  to  instiuct 
mankind,  is  clear  from  the  totally  untrustworthy  character  of  the 
special  gentile  records ;  and  when  history  began  to  be  cultivated 
in  a  literary  way,  we  do  not  observe  any  higher  motive  at  work. 
Eabius  and  Cincius  wrote  in  Greek,  partly,  no  doubt,  because  in 
the  unformed  state  of  their  own  language  it  was  easier  to  do  so  \ 
but  that  this  was  not  in  itself  a  sufficient  reason  is  shown  by  the 
enthusiasm  with  which  not  only  their  contemporary  Ennius,  but 
their  predecessors  Livius  and  Naevius,  studied  and  developed  the 
Latin  tongue.  Livius  and  Ennius  worked  at  Latin  in  order  to 
construct  a  literary  dialect  that  should  also  be  the  speech  of  the 
people.  Eabius  and  Cincius,  we  cannot  help  suspecting,  wrote 
in  Greek,  because  that  was  a  language  which  the  people  did  not 
understand. 

Belonging  to  an  ancient  house  whose  traditions  were  exclu 
sive  and  aristocratic,  Eabius  (210  b.c.)  addressed  himself  to 
the  limited  circle  of  readers  who  were  conversant  with  the 
Greek  tongue ;  to  the  people  at  large  he  was  at  no  pains  to  be 
intelligible,  and  he  probably  was  as  indifferent  to  their  literary,  as 
his  ancestors  had  been  to  their  political,  claims  or  advantages. 
The  branch  to  which  he  belonged  derived  its  distinguishing  name 
from  Eabius  Pictor  the  grandfather  of  the  historian,  who,  in  312 
B.o.  painted  the  temple  of  Salus,  which  was  the  oldest  known 
specimen  of  Roman  art,  and  existed,  applauded  by  the  criticism 
of  posterity,  until  the  era  of  Claudius.  This  single  incident 
proves  that  in  a  period  when  Roman  feeling  as  a  rule  recoiled 
from  practising  the  arts  of  peace,  members  of  this  intellectual 
gens  were  already  proficients  in  one  of  the  proscribed  Greek 
accomplishments,  and  taken  into  connection  with  the  polished 
cultivation  of  the  Claudii,  and  perhaps  of  other  gentes,  shows  that 
in  their  private  life  the  aristocratic  party  were  not  so  bigoted  as 
for  political  purposes  they  chose  to  represent  themselves.1  As  to 
the  value  of  Eabius's  work  we  have  no  good  means  of  forming  an 
opinion.  Livy  invariably  speaks  of  him  with  respect,  as  scrip- 
tovum  longe  antiquissimus  ;  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  he 
had  access  to  the  best  existing  authorities  on  his  subject.  Besides 
the  public  chronicles  and  the  archives  of  his  own  house,  he  is  said 
to  have  drawn  on  Greek  sources.  Niebuhr,  also,  takes  a  high 
view  of  his  merits ;  and  the  unpretending  form  in  which  he 
clothed  his  work,  merely  a  bare  statement  of  events  without  any 

1  The  Roman  mind  was  much  more  impressible  to  rich  colour,  decoration 
&c.  than  the  Greek.     Possibly  painting  may  on  this  account  have  met  with 
earlier  countenance. 


90  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

attempt  at  literary  decoration,  inclines  us  to  "believe  that  so  far  as 
national  prejudices  allowed,  lie  endeavoured  to  represent  faithfully 
the  facts  of  history. 

Of  L.  Cincius  Alimentus  (flor.  209  b.c.)  we  should  be  inclined 
to  form  a  somewhat  higher  estimate,  from  the  fact  that,  when  taken 
prisoner  by  Hannibal,  he  received  greater  consideration  from  him 
than  almost  any  other  Roman  captive.  He  conversed  freely  with 
him,  and  informed  him  of  the  route  by  which  he  had  crossed  the 
Alps,  and  of  the  exact  number  of  his  invading  force.  Cincius 
was  praetor  in  Sicily  209  b.c.  He  thus  had  good  opportunities 
for  learning  the  main  events  of  the  campaign.  Niebuhr1  says 
of  him,  "  He  was  a  critical  investigator  of  antiquity,  who  threw 
light  on  the  history  of  his  country  by  researches  among  its  ancient 
monuments.  He  proceeded  in  this  work  with  no  less  honesty 
than  diligence ; 2  for  it  is  only  in  his  fragments  that  we  find  a  dis- 
tinct statement  of  the  early  relations  between  Rome  and  Latium, 
which  in  all  the  Annals  were  misrepresented  from  national  pride. 
That  Cincius  wrote  a  book  on  the  old  Roman  calendar,  Ave  are 
told  by  Macrobius ; 3  that  he  examined  into  ancient  Etruscan  and 
Roman  chronology,  is  clear  from  Livy."4  The  point  in  which  he 
differed  from  the  other  authorities  most  strikingly  is  the  date  he 
assigns  for  the  origin  of  the  city ;  but  Niebuhr  thinks  that  his 
method  of  ascertaining  it  shows  independent  investigation.5 
Cincius,  like  Fabius,  began  his  work  by  a  rapid  summary  of  the 
early  history  of  Rome,  and  detailed  at  full  length  only  those 
events  which  had  happened  during  his  own  experience. 

A  third  writer  who  flourished  about  the  same  time  was  C.  Acinus 
(circ.  184  b.c),  who,  like  the  others,  began  with  the  foundation  of 
the  city,  and  apparently  carried  his  work  down  to  the  war  with 
Antiochus.  He,  too,  wrote  in  Greek,6  and  was  afterwards  trans- 
lated into  Latin  by  Claudius  Quadrigarius,7  in  which  form  he  was 
employed  by  Livy.  Aulus  Postumius  Albinus,  a  younger  con- 
temporary of  Cato,  is  also  mentioned  as  the  author  of  a  Greek 
history.  It  is  very  possible  that  the  selection  of  the  Greek 
language  by  all  these  writers  was  partly  due  to  their  desire  to 
prove  to  the  Greeks  that  Roman  history  was  worth  studying ;  for 
the  Latin  language  was  at  this  time  confined  to  the  peninsula,  and 
was  certainly  not  studied  by  learned  Greeks,  except  such  as  were 

1  R.  H.  vol.  i.  p.  272.  2  Li  v.  xxi.  38.  calls  him  "  inaximus  auctor." 

8  Sat.  i.  12.  *  vii.  3. 

*  The  question  does  not  concern  us  here.  The  reader  is  referred  to  STiebuhr'i 
chapter  on  the  Era  from  thj  foundation  t>i  the  city. 

Cic  de  OfT.  iii.  32,  115. 

This  is  an  inference,  but  a  probable  one,  from  a  statement  of  Plutarch 


CATO.  91 

compelled  to  acquire  it  by  relations  with  the!r  Roman  conquerors. 
Besides  these  authors,  we  learn  from  Polybius  that  the  great  Scipio 
furnished  contributions  to  history :  among  other  writings,  a  long 
Greek  letter  to  king  Philip  is  mentioned  which  contained  a  succinct 
account  of  his  Spanish  and  African  campaigns.  His  son,  and  also 
Scipio  Nasica,  appear  to  have  followed  his  example  in  writing 
Greek  memoirs. 

The  creator  of  Latin  prose  writing  was  Cato  (234-149  bc.). 
In  almost  every  department  he  set  the  example,  and  his  works, 
voluminous  and  varied,  retained  their  reputation  until  the  close  of 
the  classical  period.     He  was  the  first  thoroughly  national  author. 

The  character  of  the  rigid  censor  is  generally  associated  in  our 
jainds  with  the  contempt  of  letters.  In  his  stern  but  narrow 
patriotism,  he  looked  with  jealous  eyes  on  all  that  might  turn  the 
citizens  from  a  single-minded  devotion  to  the  State.  Culture  was 
connected  in  his  mind  with  Greece,  and  her  deleterious  influence. 
The  embassy  of  Diogenes,  Critolaus,  and  Carneades,  155  B.C.  had 
shown  him  to  what  uses  culture  might  be  turned.  The  eloquent 
harangue  pronounced  in  favour  of  justice,  and  the  equally  eloquent 
harangue  pronounced  next  day  against  it  by  the  same  speaker 
without  a  blush  of  shame,  had  set  Cato's  face  like  a  flint  in 
opposition  to  Gieek  learning.  "I  will  tell  you  about  those 
Greeks,"  he  wrote  in  his  old  age  to  his  son  Marcus,  "what  I  dis- 
covered by  careful  observation  at  Athens,  and  how  far  I  deem  it 
good  to  skim  through  their  writings,  for  in  no  case  should  they  bo 
deeply  studied.  I  will  prove  to  you  that  they  are  one  and  all,  a 
worthless  and  intractable  set.  Mark  my  words,  for  they  are  those 
of  a  prophet :  whenever  that  nation  shall  give  us  its  literature, 
it  will  corrupt  everything." * 

"With  this  settled  conviction,  thus  emphatically  expressed  at  a 
time  when  experience  had  shown  the  realization  of  his  fears  to  be 
inevitable,  and  when  he  himself  had  so  far  bent  as  to  study  the 
literature  he  despised,  the  long  and  active  public  life  of  Cato  is  in 
complete  harmony.  He  is  the  perfect  type  of  an  old  Roman. 
Hard,  shrewd,  niggardly,  and  narrow  minded,  he  was  honest  to 
the  core,  unsparing  of  himself  as  of  others,  scorning  every  kind  of 
luxury,  and  of  inflexible  moral  rectitude.  He  had  no  respect  for 
birth,  rank,  fortune,  or  talent ;  his  praise  was  bestowed  sulsly  on 
personal  merit.  He  himself  belonged  to  an  ancient  and  honour- 
able house,2  and  from  it  he  inherited  those  narsh  virtues  which, 
while  they  enforced  the  reverence,  put  him  in  conflict  with  the 
spirit,  of  the  age.     Kb  man  could  have  aei  before  himself  a  more 

1  Vide  M.  Catonis  Reliquise,  H  Jordan,  Lips.  1860. 

*  So  he  himself  asseited;  but  they  did  not  hold  any  Roman  magistracy. 


Si'l  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

uphill  task  than  that  which  Cato  struggled  all  his  life  vainly  to 
achieve.  To  reconstruct  the  past  is  but  one  step  more  impossible 
than  to  stem  the  tide  of  the  present.  If  Cato  failed,  a  greatei 
than  Cato  would  not  have  succeeded.  Influences  were  at  work  in 
Rome  which  individual  genius  was  powerless  to  resist.  The 
ascendancy  of  reason  ov^r  force,  though  it  were  the  noblest  form 
thai  force  has  ever  assumed,  was  step  by  step  establishing  itself; 
and  no  stronger  proof  of  its  victory  could  be  found  than  that  Cato, 
despite  of  himself,  in  his  old  age  studied  Greek.  We  may  smile 
at  the  deep-rooted  prejudice  which  confounded  the  pure  glories  of 
the  old  Greek  intellect  with  the  degraded  puerilities  of  its  un- 
worthy heirs ;  but  though  Cato  could  not  fathom  the  mind  of 
Greece,  he  thoroughly  understood  the  mind  of  Rome,  and  unavail- 
ing as  his  efforts  were,  they  were  based  on  an  unerring  compre- 
hension of  the  true  issues  at  stake.  He  saw  that  Greece  was 
unmaking  Rome ;  but  he  did  not  see  that  mankind  required  that 
Rome  should  be  unmade.  It  is  the  glory  of  men  like  Scipio  and 
Ennius,  that  their  large-heavLedness  opened  their  eyes,  and  earned 
their  vision  beyond  the  horizon  of  the  Roman  world  into  that 
dimly-seen  but  ever  expanding  country  in  which  all  men  are 
brethren.  But  if  from  the  loftiest  point  of  vif.w  their  wide 
humanity  obtains  the  palm,  no  less  does  Cato's  pure  patriotism 
shed  undying  radiance  over  his  rugged  form,  throwing  into  relief  its 
massive  grandeur,  and  ennobling  rather  than  hiding  its  deformities. 
We  have  said  that  Cato's  name  is  associated  with  the  contempt 
of  letters.  This  is  no  doubt  the  fact.  Nevertheless,  Cato  was  by 
far  the  most  original  writer  that  Rome  ever  produced.  He  is  the 
one  man  on  whose  vigorous  mind  no  outside  influence  had  ever 
told.  Brought  up  at  his  father's  farm  at  Tusculuni,  he  spent  his 
boyhood  amid  the  labours  of  the  plough.  Hard  work  and  scant  fare 
toughened  his  sinews,  and  service  under  Fabius  in  the  Hannibalic 
war  knit  his  frame  into  that  iron  strength  of  endurance,  which, 
until  his  death,  never  betrayed  one  sign  of  weakness  or  fatigue. 
A  saying  of  his  is  preserved — l  "  Man's  life  is  like  iron ;  if  you  use 
it,  it  wears  away,  if  not,  the  rust  eats  it.  So,  too,  men  are  worn 
away  by  hard  work;  but  if  they  do  no  work,  rest  and  sloth  d<> 
more  injury  than  exercise."  On  this  maxim  his  own  life  was 
formed.  In  the  intervals  of  warfare,  he  did  not  relax  himself  in 
the  pleasures  of  the  city,  but  went  liome  to  his  plough,  and  im- 
proved his  small  estate.  Being  soon  well  known  for  his  shrewd 
wit  and  ready  speech,  he  rose  into  eminence  at  the  bar;  and  iu 
due  time  obtained  all  the  offices  of  state.     In  every  position  hi 

1  Gell.  xi.  2. 


CATO.  93 

made  many  enemies,  but  most  notably  in  his  capacity  of  censor. 
No  man  was  oftener  brought  to  trial.  Forty-four  times  he  spoke 
in  his  own  defence,  and  every  time  he  was  acquitted.1  As  Li  vy 
says,  he  wore  his  enemies  out,  partly  by  accusing  them,  but  still 
more  by  the  pertinacity  with  which  he  defended  himself.2  Be- 
sides private  causes,  he  spoke  in  many  important  public  trials  and 
on  many  great  questions  of  state :  Cicero  3  had  seen  or  heard  of 
150  orations  by  him;  in  one  passage  he  implies  that  he  had 
delivered  as  many  as  Lysias,  i.e.  230.4  Even  now  we  have  traces, 
certainly  of  80,  and  perhaps  of  13  more.5  His  military  life,  which 
had  been  a  series  of  successes,  was  brought  to  a  close  190  b.c,  and 
from  this  time  until  his  death,  he  appears  as  an  able  civil  adminis- 
trator, and  a  vehement  opponent  of  lax  manners.  In  the  year  of 
his  censorship  (184  b.c.)  Plautus  died.  The  tremendous  vigour 
with  which  he  wielded  the  powers  of  this  post  stirred  up  a  swarm 
of  enemies.  His  tongue  became  more  bitter  than  ever.  Plutarch 
gives  his  portrait  in  an  epigram. 

Ylvpphu,  irovSa/ceTrj*',  yKavKOfifjLarov,  ov5l  QuvovTa 
Tlopmov  eis  ai8rjv  Uep<re<p6vTj  Several. 

Here,  at  85  years  of  age,6  the  man  stands  before  us.  We  see  the 
crisp,  erect  figure,  bristling  with  aggressive  vigour,  the  coarse,  red 
hair,  the  keen,  grey  eyes,  piercingly  fixed  on  his  opponent  s  face, 
and  reading  at  a  glance  the  knavery  he  sought  to  hide ;  we  hear 
the  rasping  voice,  launching  its  dry,  cutting  sarcasms  one  after 
another,  each  pointed  with  its  sting  of  truth  j  and  we  can  well 
believe  that  the  dislike  was  intense,  which  could  make  an  enemy 
provoke  the  terrible  armoury  of  the  old  censor's  eloquence. 

As  has  been  said,  he  so  far  relaxed  the  severity  of  his  principles 
as  to  learn  the  Greek  language  and  study  the  great  writers.  Nor 
could  he  help  feeling  attracted  to  minds  like  those  of  Thucydides 
and  Demosthenes,  in  sagacity  and  earnestness  so  congenial  to  his 
own.  Nevertheless,  his  originality  is  in  nothing  more  conspicu- 
ously shown  than  in  his  method  of  treating  history.  He  struck  a 
line  of  inquiry  in  which  he  found  no  successor.  The  Origines,  if  it 
had  remained,  would  undoubtedly  have  been  a  priceless  storehouse 
of  facts  about  the  antiquities  of  Italy.  Cato  had  an  enlarged  view 
of  history.  It  was  not  his  object  to  magnify  Eome  at  the  expense 
of  the  other  Italian  nationalities,  but  rather  to  show  how  she  had 
become  their  greatest,  because  their  truest,  representative.  The 
divisions  of  the  work  itself  will  show  the  importance  he  attached 

1  Plin.  N.  H.  vii.  27.  *  Liv.  xxxix.  40.  s  De  Sen.  xvii.  65, 

4  Brut.  xvi.  63.  •  See  H.  Jordan's  treatise. 

*  This  was  his  age  when  he  accused  the  perjured  Galba  after  hia  return 
from  Numantia  (149  e.c  ) — one  of  the  finest  of  his  speeches. 


94.  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

to  an  investigation  of  their  early  ai  nals.  "We  lean*  from  Nepoa 
that  the  first  book  comprised  the  regal  period  ;  the  second  and 
third  were  devoted  to  the  origin  and  primitive  history  of  each 
Italian  state  ;x  the  fourth  and  fifth  embraced  the  Punic  wars ;  the 
last  two  carried  the  history  as  far  as  the  Praetorship  of  Servius 
Galba,  Cato's  bold  accusation  of  whom  he  inserted  in  the  body  of 
the  work.  Nepos,  echoing  the  superficial  canons  of  his  age, 
characterises  the  whole  as  showing  industry  and  diligence,  but  no 
learning  whatever.  The  early  myths  were  somewhat  indistinctly 
treated.2  His  account  of  the  Trojan  immigration  seems  to  have 
been  the  basis  of  that  of  Virgil,  though  the  latter  refashioned  it  in 
several  points.3  His  computation  of  dates,  though  apparently  exact, 
betrays  a  mind  indifferent  to  the  importance  of  chronology.  The 
fragments  of  the  next  two  books  are  more  copious.  He  tells  us  that 
Gaul,  then  as  now,  pursued  with  the  greatest  zeal  military  glory 
and  eloquence  in  debate.4  His  notice  of  the  Ligurians  is  far  from 
complimentary.  "  They  are  all  deceitful,  having  lost  every  record 
of  their  real  origin,  and  being  illiterate,  they  invent  false  stories 
and  have  no  recollection  of  the  truth."5  He  hazards  a  few  ety- 
mologies, which,  as  usual  among  Roman  writers,  are  quite  unscien- 
tific. Graviscoe  is  so  called  from  its  unhealthy  climate  (gravis  aer), 
Praeneste  from  its  conspicuous  position  on  the  mountains  (quia 
montibus  praestet).  A  few  scattered  remarks  on  the  food  in  use 
among  different  tribes  are  all  that  remain  of  an  interesting  depart- 
ment which  might  have  thrown  much  light  on  ethnological  ques- 
tions. In  the  fourth  book,  Cato  expresses  his  disinclination  to 
repeat  the  trivial  details  of  the  Pontifical  tables,  the  fluctuations 
of  the  market,  the  eclipses  of  the  sun  and  moon,  &c.6  He  narrates 
with  enthusiasm  the  self-devotion  of  the  tribune  Caedicius,  who  in 
the  first  Punic  war  offered  his  life  with  that  of  400  soldiers  to 
engage  the  enemy's  attention  while  the  general  was  executing  a 
necessary  manoeuvre.7  "  The  Laconian  Leonides,  who  did  the  same 
thing  at  Thermopylae,  has  been  rewarded  by  all  Greece  for  hia 
virtue  and  patriotism  with  all  the  emblems  of  the  highest  possible 
distinction — monuments,  statues,  epigrams,  histories  ;  his  deM  met 
with  their  warmest  gratitude.  But  little  praise  has  been  given  to 
our  tribune  in  comparison  with  his  merits,  though  he  acted  just  as  the 
Spartan  did,  and  saved  the  fortunes  of  the  State."  As  to  the  title 
Oy'gines,  it  is  possible,  as  N epos  suggests,  that  it  arose  from  the  first 
three  books  having  been  published  separately.     It  certainly  is  not 

1  Cato,  3,  2-4.  «  See  "Wordsworth,  Fr.  of  early  Latin,  p.  611,  §  & 

8  Serv.  ad  Virg.  Aen.  i.  267.  4  Charis.  ii.  p.  181  (Jord). 

«  Serv.  ad  Virg.  Aen.  xi.  700.  •  Goll.  ii.  28,  6. 

'  Cell.  iii.  7,  1. 


CATO.  95 

applicable  to  the  entire  treatise,  which  was  a  genuine  history  on  the 
same  scale  as  that  of  Thucydid.es,  and  no  mere  piece  of  antiquarian 
research.  He  adhered  to  truth  in  so  far  as  he  did  not  insert  ficti- 
tious speeches  ;  he  conformed  to  Greek  taste  so  far  as  to  insert  his 
own.  One  striking  feature  in  the  later  hooks  was  his  omission 
oi  names.  No  Eoman  worthy  is  named  in  them.  The  reason  of 
this  it  is  impossible  to  discover.  Fear  of  giving  offence  would  be 
the  last  motive  to  weigh  with  him.  Dislike  of  the  great  aristo- 
cratic houses  into  whose  hands  the  supreme  power  was  steadily 
being  concentrated,  is  a  more  probable  cause ;  but  it  is  hardly 
sufficient  of  itself.  Perhaps  the  omission  was  a  mere  whim  of  the 
historian  '  Though  this  work  obtained  great  and  deserved  renown, 
yet,  like  its  author,  it  was  praised  rather  than  imitated.  Livy 
scarcely  ever  uses  it ;  and  it  is  likely  that,  before  the  end  of  the 
first  century  a.d.  the  speeches  were  published  separately,  and  were 
the  only  part  at  all  generally  read.  Pliny,  Gellius,  and  Servius, 
are  the  authors  who  seem  most  to  have  studied  it ;  of  these  Pliny 
was  most  influenced  by  it.  The  Natural  History,  especially  in  its 
general  discussions,  strongly  reminds  us  of  Cato. 

Of  the  talents  of  Cato  as  an  orator  something  will  be  said  in  the 
next  section.  His  miscellaneous  writings,  though  none  of  then 
are  historical,  may  be  noticed  here.  Quintilian1  attests  the  many 
sidedness  of  his  genius  :  "  M.  Cato  was  at  once  a  first-rate  general, 
a  philosopher,  an  orator,  the  founder  of  history,  the  most  thorough 
master  of  law  and  agriculture."  The  work  on  agriculture  we  have 
the  good  fortune  to  possess ;  or  rather  a  redaction  of  it,  slightly 
modernized  and  incomplete,  but  nevertheless  containing  a  large 
amount  of  really  genuine  matter.  Nothing  can  be  more  character- 
istic th;m  the  opening  sentences.  "We  give  a  translation,  following 
as  closely  as  possible  the  form  of  the  original :  "  It  is  at  timea 
worth  while  to  gain  wealth  by  commerce,  were  it  not  so  perilous ; 
or  by  usury,  were  it  equally  honourable.  Our  ancestors,  however, 
held,  and  fixed  by  law,  that  a  thief  should  be  condemned  to  restore 
double,  a  usurer  quadruple.  We  thus  see  how  much  worse  they 
thought  it  for  a  citizen  to  be  a  money-lender  than  a  thief.  Again, 
when  they  praised  a  good  man,  they  praised  him  as  a  good  farmer, 
or  a  good  husbandman.  Men  so  praised  were  held  to  have  received 
the  highest  praise.  For  myself,  I  think  well  of  a  merchant  as  a  map 
of  energy  and  studious  of  gain  ;  but  it  is  a  career,  as  I  have  said, 
that  leads  to  danger  and  ruin.  But  farming  makes  the  bravesi 
men,  and  the  sturdiest  soldiers,  and  of  all  sources  of  gain  is  the 
surest,  the  most  natural,  and  the  least  invidious,  and  those  who 

1  xii .  11,  23. 


06  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

are  busy  with  it  have  vAe  fewest  bad  thoughts."  The  sententious 
and  dogmatic  style  of  this  preamble  cannot  fail  to  strike  the  reader; 
but  it  is  surpassed  by  many  of  the  precepts  which  follow.  Some 
of  these  contain  pithy  maxims  of  shrewd  sense,  e  g.  "  Patrem 
familias  vendacem  non  emacem  esse  oportet."  "  Ita  aedifices  ne 
villa  fundum  quaerat,  neve  fundus  villam."  The  Virgilian  pre- 
scription, "  Laudato  ingentia  rura  :  exiguam  colito,"  is  said  to  be 
drawn  from  Cato,  though  it  does  not  exist  in  our  copies.  The 
treatment  throughout  is  1  methodical.  If  left  by  the  author  in 
its  present  form  it  represents  the  daily  jotting  down  of  thoughts 
on  the  subject  as  they  occurred  to  him. 

In  two  points  the  writer  appears  in  an  unfavourable  light — in 
his  love  of  gain,  and  in  his  brutal  treatment  of  his  slaves.  With 
him  farming  is  no  mere  amusement,  nor  again  is  it  mere  labour. 
It  is  primarily  and  throughout  a  means  of  making  money,  and 
indeed  the  only  strictly  honourable  one.  However,  Cato  so  far 
relaxed  the  strictness  of  this  theory  that  he  became  "an  ardent 
speculator  in  slaves,  buildings,  ai  tificial  lakes,  and  pleasure-grounds, 
the  mercantile  spirit  being  too  strong  within  him  to  rest  satisfied 
with  the  modest  returns  of  his  estate."  As  regarded  slaves,  the 
law  considered  them  as  chattels,  and  he  followed  the  law  to  the 
letter.  If  a  slave  grew  old  or  sick  he  was  to  be  sold.  If  the 
weather  hindered  work  he  was  to  take  his  sleep  then,  and  work 
doubJj  time  afterwards.  "In  order  to  prevent  combinations 
anion »  his  slaves,  their  master  assiduously  sowed  enmities  and 
jealousies  between  them.  He  bought  young  slaves  in  their  name, 
whom  they  were  forced  to  train  and  sell  for  his  benefit.  When 
supping  with  his  guests,  if  any  dish  was  carelessly  dressed,  he  rose 
from  table,  and  with  a  leathern  thong  administered  the  requisite 
number  of  lashes  with  his  own  hand."  So  pitilessly  severe  was 
he,  that  a  slave  who  had  concluded  a  purchase  without  his  leave, 
hung  himself  to  avoid  his  master's  wrath.  These  incidents, 
some  told  by  Plutarch,  others  by  Cato  himself,  show  the  in- 
human side  of  Roman  life,  and  make  it  less  hard  to  understand 
their  treatment  of  vanquished  kings  and  generals.  For  the  other 
sex  Cato  had  little  respecu.  Women,  he  says,  should  be  kept  at 
home,  and  no  Chaldaean  or  soothsayer  be  allowed  to  see  them. 
Women  are  always  running  after  superstition.  His  direction? 
about  the  steward's  wife  are  as  follows.  They  are  addressed  to 
the  steward : — "  Let  her  fear  you.  Take  care  that  she  is  not 
luxurious.  Let  her  see  as  little  as  possible  of  her  neighbours  or 
any  other  female  friends  ;  let  her  never  invite  them  to  your  house-, 
let  her  never  go  out  to  supper,  nor  be  fond  of  taking  walks.  Lei 
her  never  offer  sacrifice ;  let  her  know  that  the  master  sacrifices 


CATO.  97 

toi  the  whole  family;  let  her  be  neat  herself,  and  keep  the 
country-house  neat."  Several  sacrificial  details  are  given  in  the 
treatise.  We  observe  that  they  are  all  of  the  rustic  order ;  th« 
master  alone  is  to  attend  the  city  ceremonial.  Among  the  different 
industries  recommended,  we  are  struck  by  the  absence  of  wheat 
cultivation.  The  vineyard  and  the  pasture  chiefly  engage  atten- 
tion, though  herbs  and  green  produce  are  carefully  treated.  The 
reason  is  to  be  sought  in  the  special  nature  of  the  treatise.  It  ia 
not  a  general  survey  of  agriculture,  but  merely  a  handbook  of 
cultivation  for  a  particular  farm,  that  of  Manlius  or  Mall  ins,  and 
so  probably  unfit  for  wheat  crops.  Other  subjects,  as  medicine, 
are  touched  on.  But  his  prescriptions  are  confined  to  the  rudest 
simples,  to  wholesome  and  restorative  diet,  and  to  incantations. 
These  last  have  equal  value  assigned  them  with  rational  remedies. 
Whether  Cato  trusted  them  may  well  be  doubted.  He  probably 
gave  in  such  cases  the  popular  charm-cure,  simply  from  not  having 
a  better  method  of  his  own  to  propose. 

Another  series  of  treatises  were  those  addressed  L  his  son,  in 
one  of  which,  that  on  medicine,  he  charitably  accuses  the  Greeks 
of  an  attempt  to  kill  all  barbarians  by  their  treatment,  and 
specially  the  Romans,  whom  they  stigmatise  by  the  insulting 
name  of  Opici.1  "I  forbid  you,  once  for  all,  to  have  any  deal- 
ings with  physicians."  Owing  to  their  temperate  and  active  life, 
the  Eomans  had  for  more  than  five  hundred  years  existed  without 
a  physician  within  their  walls.  Cato's  hostility  to  the  profession, 
therefore,  if  not  justifiable,  was  at  least  natural.  He  subjoins  a 
list  of  simples  by  which  he  kept  himself  and  his  wife  alive  and  in 
health  to  a  green  old  age.2  And  observing  that  there  are  count- 
less signs  of  death,  and  none  of  health,  he  gives  the  chief  marks 
by  which  a  man  apparently  in  health  may  be  noted  as  unsound. 
In  another  treatise,  on  farming,  also  dedicated  to  his  son,  foi 
whom  he  entertained  a  warm  affection,  and  over  whose  education 
he  sedulously  watched,  he  says, — "  Buy  not  what  you  want,  but 
what  you  must  have ;  what  you  don't  want  is  dear  at  a  farthing,  and 
what  you  lack  borrow  from  yourself."  Such  is  the  homely  wisdom 
which  gained  for  Cato  the  proud  title  of  Sapiens,  by  which,  says 
Cicero,3  he  was  familiarly  known.  Other  original  works,  the  pro- 
duct of  his  vast  experience,  were  the  treatise  on  eloquence,  cf 

1  "Oirtices.  Cato's  superficial  knowledge  of  Greek  prevented  rrin  fioin 
knowing  that  this  word  to  Greek  ears  conveys  no  insult,  but  is  a  men 
ethnographic  appellation. 

3  Plin.  N.  H.  xxix.  8,  15. 

8  De  Sen.  He  gives  the  ground  of  it  "quia,  wultaruno  wrum  tu>aiu 
habebaL" 

a 


08  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

winch  the  pith  is  the  following :  "  Eem  tene  :  verba  sequentur ;  * 
•'  Take  care  of  the  sense  :  the  sounds  will  take  care  of  themselves." 
We  can  well  believe  that  this  excellent  maxim  ruled  his  own  con- 
duct. The  art  of  war  formed  the  subject  of  another  volume ;  in 
this,  too,  he  had  abundant  and  faithful  experience.  An  attempt 
to  investigate  the  principles  of  jurisprudence,  which  was  carried 
out  more  fully  by  his  son,1  and  a  short  carmen  de  moribus  01 
essay  on  conduct,  completed  the  list  of  his  paternal  instructions. 
Why  this  was  styled  carmm  is  not  known.  Some  think  it  was 
written  in  Saturnian  verse,  others  that  its  concise  and  oracular 
formulas  suggested  the  name,  since  carmen  in  old  Latin  is  by  no 
means  confined  to  verse.  It  is  from  this  that  the  account  of  the 
low  estimation  of  poets  in  the  early  Republic  is  taken.  Besides 
these  regular  treatises  we  hear  of  letters,2  and  airo<f>B 'ey/xara,  or 
pithy  sayings,  put  together  like  those  of  Bacon  from  divers 
sources.  In  after  times  Cato's  own  apophthegms  were  collected 
for  publication,  and  under  the  name  of  Catonis  dicta,  were  much 
admired  in  the  Middle  Ages.  We  see  that  Cato's  literary  labours 
were  encyclopaedic.  In  this  wide  and  ambitious  sphere  he  was 
followed  by  Yarro,  and  still  later  by  Celsus.  Literary  effort  was 
now  becoming  general.  Fulvius  Nobilior,  the  patron  of  Ennius 
and  adversary  of  Cato,  published  annals  after  the  old  plan  of  a 
calendar  of  years.  Cassius  Hemina  and  Calpurnius  Piso,  who 
were  younger  contemporaries,  continued  in  the  same  track,  and 
we  hear  of  other  minor  historians.  Cassius  is  mentioned  more 
than  once  as  " antiquisdmns  auctor"  a  term  of  compliment  as 
well  as  chronological  refe  ence.3  Of  him  Niebuhr  says:  "He 
wrote  about  Alba  according  to  its  ancient  local  chronology,  and 
synchronised  the  earlier  periods  of  Rome  with  the  history  of 
Greece.  He  treated  of  the  age  before  the  foundation  of  Rome, 
whence  we  have  many  statements  of  his  about  Siculian  towns  in 
Latium.  The  archeology  of  the  towns  seems  to  have  been  his 
principal  object.  The  fourth  book  of  his  work  bore  the  title  of 
Punkum  helium  poster iu*,  from  which  we  infer  that  the  last  war 
with  Carthage  had  not  as  yet  broken  out." 

About  this  epoch  nourished  Q.  Fabius  Maximus  Servilianus, 
who  is  known  to  have  written  histories.  He  is  supposed  to  be 
miscalled  by  Cicero,4  Fabius  Pictor,  for  Cicero  mentions  a  work 
in  Lat'n.  by  the  latter  author,  whereas  it  is  certain  that  the  old 
Fabius  wrote  only  in  Greek.  The  best  authorities  now  assume 
that  Fabius  Maximus,  as  a  clansman  and  admirer  of  Pictor,  tran* 

i  Cic.  de  Or.  11,  33,  142.  *  Cic.  de  Off.  i  11,  10. 

•  Plin  xiii.  37,  84,  and  xxix.  6. 

*  De  Or.  ii.  12.     See  Nieb.  I  u trod.  Lect.  iv. 


CALPURNIUS   PISO.  99 

lated  his  book  into  Latin  to  make  it  more  widely  known.  The 
new  work  wronld  thus  be  indifferently  quoted  as  Fabius  Pictor  or 
Fabius  Maximus. 

L.  Calpurnius  Piso  Frugi  Censorius  (Cons.  133),  well  known 
as  the  adversary  of  the  Gracchi,  an  eloquent  and  active  man,  and 
staunch  adherent  of  the  high  aristocratic  party,  wTas  also  an  able 
writer  of  history.  -That  his  conception  of  historical  writing  did 
not  surpass  that  of  his  predecessors  the  annalists,  is  probable  from 
the  title  of  his  work ; 1  that  he  brought  to  bear  on  it  a  very  dif- 
ferent spirit  seems  certain  from  the  quotations  in  Livy  and 
Dionysius.  One  of  the  select  few,  in  breadth  of  views  as  in  posi- 
tion, he  espoused  the  rationalistic  opinions  advocated  by  the 
Scipionic  circle,  and  applied  them  with  more  warmth  than  judg- 
ment to  the  ancient  legends.  Grote,  Niebuhr,  and  others,  have 
shown  how  unsatisfactory  this  treatment  is ;  illusion  is  lost  with- 
out truth  being  found ;  nevertheless,  the  man  who  first  honestly 
applies  this  method,  though  he  may  have  ill  success,  makes  an 
epoch  in  historical  research.  Cicero  gives  him  no  credit  for  style ; 
his  annals  (he  says)  are  written  in  a  barren  way.2  The  reader 
who  wishes  to  read  Niebuhr's  interesting  judgment  on  his  work 
and  influence  is  referred  to  the  Introductory  Lectures  on  Roman 
History.  In  estimating  the  very  different  opinions  on  the  ancient 
authors  given  in  the  classic  times,  we  should  have  regard  to  the 
divers  standards  from  time  to  time  set  up.  Cicero,  for  instance, 
has  a  great  fondness  for  the  early  poets,  but  no  great  love  for  the 
prose  writers,  except  the  orators,  nearly  all  of  whom  he  loads 
with  praise.  Still,  making  allowance  for  this  slight  mental  bias, 
his  criticisms  are  of  the  utmost  possible  value.  In  the  Augustan 
and  early  imperial  times,  antiquity  was  treated  with  much  less 
reverence.  Style  was  everything,  and  its  deficiency  could  not  be 
excused.  And  lastly,  under  the  Antonines  (and  earlier  3),  disgust 
at  the  false  taste  of  the  day  produced  an  irrational  reaction  in 
favour  of  the  archaic  modes  of  thought  and  expression,  so  that 
Gellius,  for  instance,  extols  the  simplicity,  sweetness,  or  noble 
vigour  of  writings  in  which  we,  like  Cicero,  should  see  only  jejune 
and  rugged  immaturity.4  Pliny  speaks  of  Piso  as  a  weighty 
author  (gravis  auctor),  and  Pliny's  penetration  was  not  easily 
warped  by  style  or  want  of  style.  We  may  conclude,  on  the 
whole,  that  Piso,  though  often  misled  by  his  wrant  of  imagina- 
tion, and  occasionally  by  inaccuracy  in  regard  to  figures,5  brought 
into  Roman  history  a  rational  method,  not  by  any  means  sc 

1  Annates,  also  Commentarii.  2  Exiliter  scriptos,  Brut.  27,  106. 

*  See  Quint,  x.  1,  passim.         *  Gell.  vii.  9,  1;  speaks  in  this  way  of  PisQk 

•  &*e  Liv.  i.  55. 


100  HISTORY   OF  ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

original  or  excellent  as  that  of  Cato,  but  more  on  a  level  with  the 
capacities  of  his  countrymen,  and  infinitely  more  productive  ol 
imitation. 

The  study  of  Greek  rhetoric  had  by  this  time  been  cultivated  at 
Rome,  and  the  difficulty  of  composition  being  materially  lightened 1 
as  well  a3  its  results  made  more  pleasing,  we  are  not  surprised  to 
find  a  number  of  authors  of  a  somewhat  more  pretentious  type. 
Vennonius,  Clodius  Licixus,  C.  Fannius,  and  Gellius  are  little 
more  than  names;  all  that  is  known  of  them  will  be  found  in 
Teuffel's  repertory.  They  seem  to  have  clung  to  the  title  of 
annalist  though  they  had  outgrown  the  character.  There  are, 
however,  two  names  that  cannot  be  quite  passed  over,  those  of 
Sempronius  Asellio  and  Caelius  Antipater.  The  former  was 
military  tribune  at  Numantia  (133  rc),  and  treated  of  thai 
campaign  at  length  in  his  work.  He  was  killed  in  99  b.c.2  but 
no  event  later  than  the  death  of  Gracchus  (121  b.c.)  is  recorded 
as  from  him.  He  had  great  contempt  for  the  old  annalists,  and 
held  their  work  to  be  a  mere  diary  so  far  as  form  went ;  he  pro- 
fessed to  trace  the  motives  and  effects  of  actions,  rather,  however, 
with  the  object  of  stimulating  public  spirit  tha*n  satisfying  a 
legitimate  thirst  for  knowledge.  He  had  also  some  idea  of  the 
value  of  constitutional  history,  which  may  be  due  to  the  influence 
of  Polybius,  whose  trained  intelligence  and  philosophic  grasp  of 
events  must  have  produced  a  great  impression  among  those  who 
knew  or  read  him. 

We  have  now  mentioned  three  historians,  each  of  whom 
brought  his  original  contribution  to  the  task  of  narrating  events. 
Cato  rose  to  the  idea  of  Rome  as  the  centre  of  an  Italian  State  ; 
he  held  any  account  of  her  institutions  to  be  imperfect  which  did 
not  also  trace  from  their  origin  those  of  the  kindred  nations ; 
Piso  conceived  the  plan  of  reducing  the  myths  to  historical 
probability,  and  Asellio  that  of  tracing  the  moral  causes  that 
underlay  outward  movements.  Thus  we  see  a  great  advance  in 
theory  since  the  time,  just  a  century  earlier,  when  Fabius  wrote 
his  annals.  We  now  meet  with  a  new  element,  that  of  rhetorical 
arrangement.  No  one  man  is  answerable  for  introducing  this. 
It  was  in  the  air  of  Rome  during  the  seventh  century,  and  few 
were  unaffected  by  it.  Antipater  is  the  first  to  whom  rhetorical 
ornament  is  attributed  by  Cicero,  though  his  attainments  were  of 
a  humble  kind.3    He  was  conspicuous  for  word  painting.    Scipio's 

1  Co  to   doubtless  reflecting  on  the  difficulty  with  which  he  had  formed  bil 
own  style.   -<  s  *'  Litcrarum  radices  amarae,  fructus  incundiorrg." 
L  Lir.  Ixxiv   Epit. 
*  j  atUoinJ  iiU  vchementius  .   •   .  agrestis  ille  quidem  et  horridus. — Cio 


THE   LATER  ANNALISTS.  101 

voyage  to  Africa  was  treated  by  him  in  an  imaginative  theatrical 
fashion,  noticed  with  disapproval  by  Livy.1  In  other  respect* 
he  seen*  to  have  been  trustworthy  and  to  have  merited  the 
honour  he  obtained  of  being  abridged  by  J.  Erutus. 

In  the  time  of  Sulla  we  hear  of  several  historians  who  obtained 
celebrity.  The  first  is  Claudius  Quadrigarius  (fl.  100  b.c.) 
He  differs  from  all  his  predecessors  by  selecting  as  his  starting- 
point  the  taking  of  Borne  by  the  Gauls.  His  reason  for  so  doing 
does  him  credit,  viz.  that  there  existed  no  documents  for  the 
earlier  period.2  He  hurried  over  the  first  three  centuries,  and  as 
was  usual  among  Eoman  writers,  gave  a  minute  account  of  his 
own  times,  inserting  documents  and  speeches.  So  archaic  was 
his  style  that  his  fragments  might  belong  to  the  age  of  Cato.  For 
this  reason,  among  others,  Gellius3  (in  whom  they  are  found) 
greatly  admires  him.  Though  he  outlived  Sulla,  and  therefore 
chronologically  might  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  Ciceronian 
period,  yet  the  lack  of  finish  in  his  own  and  his  contemporaries' 
style,  makes  this  the  proper  place  to  mention  them.  The  period 'J4 
as  distinct  from  the  mere  stringing  together  of  clauses,  was  not 
understood  even  in  oratory  until  Gracchus,  and  in  history  it  was  to 
appear  still  later.  Cicero  never  mentions  Claudius,  nor  Valerius 
Antias  (91  b.c),  who  is  often  associated  with  him.  This  writer, 
who  has  gained  through  Livy's  page  the  unenviable  notoriety  of 
being  the  most  lying  of  all  annalists,  nevertheless  obtained  much 
celebrity.  The  chief  cause  of  his  deceptiveness  was  the  fabrica 
tion  of  circumstantial  narrative,  and  the  invention  of  exact 
numerical  accounts.  His  work  extended  from  the  first  mythical 
stories  to  his  own  day,  and  reached  to  at  least  seventy-five  books. 
In  his  first  decade  Livy  would  seem  to  have  followed  hiia 
implicitly.  Then  turning  in  his  later  books  to  better  authorities, 
such  as  Polybius,  and  perceiving  the  immense  discrepancies,  he 
realised  how  he  had  been  led  astray,  and  in  revenge  attacked 
Antias  throughout  the  rest  of  his  work.  Still  the  fact  that  he 
is  quoted  by  Livy  oftener  than  any  other  writer,  shows  that 
he  was  too  well-known  to  be  neglected,  and  perhaps  Livy  has 
exaggerated  his  defects. 

L.  Cornelius  Sisenna,  (119-67  b.c),  better  kn^wn  as  a  states- 
man and  grammarian,  treated  history  with  success.  His  daily  con 
verse  with  political  life,  and  his  thoughtful  and  studious  habits, 
combined  to  qualify  him  for  this  department.  He  was  a  conscientioua 

leg.  i.  2,  6.  So  " addidit  historian  ■maiwrem  sonum"  id.  de  Or.  ii 
12,  54.  i  xxix.  27. 

3  Plut  Numa.  i.  8  ix.  13.    So  Fronto  ap.  Gell.  xiii.  29,  8. 

*  \4£is  KaT€(rroau/i4vTit  as  distinct  from  Ae|.y  dpo/xcvri,  Ar.  Rhet. 


102         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

man,  and  tells  how  lie  pursued  his  work  continuously,  lest  if  h% 
wrote  by  starts  and  snatches,  he  might  pervert  the  reader's  mind. 
His  style,  however,  suffered  by  this,  he  became  prolix ;  thia 
apparently  is  what  Fronto  means  when  he  says  "  scripsit  longinque." 
To  later  writers  he  was  interesting  from  his  fondness  for  archaisms. 
Even  in  the  senate  he  could  not  drop  this  affected  habit.  Alone  of 
all  the  fathers  he  said  adsentio  for  adsentior,  and  such  phrases  as 
"vettieatim  aut  sultuatim  scrihendo"  show  an  absurd  straining 
after  quaintness. 

C.  Licinius  Macer  (died  73  b.c.)  the  father  of  the  poet  Calvus 
was  the  latest  annalist  of  Rome.  Cicero,  who  was  his  enemy,  and 
his  judge  in  the  trial  which  cost  him  his  life,  criticises  his  defects 
both  as  orator  and  historian,  with  severity.  Livy,  too,  implies 
that  ho  was  not  always  trustworthy  ("Quaesita  ea  propriao 
familiae  laus  leviorem  auctorem  facit," l)  when  the  fame  of  his  gens 
was  in  question,  but  on  many  points  he  quotes  him  with  approval, 
and  shows  that  he  sought  for  the  best  materials,  e.g.  he  drew  from 
the  lintei  libri,2  the  books  of  the  magistrates,3  the  treaty  with 
Ardea,4  and  where  he  differed  from  the  general  view,  he  gave  his 
reasons  for  it. 

The  extent  of  his  researches  is  not  known,  but  it  seems  likely 
that,  alone  of  Roman  historians,  he  did  not  touch  on  the  events 
of  his  day,  the  latest  speech  to  which  reference  is  made  being  the 
year  196  b.c.  As  he  was  an  orator,  and  by  no  means  a  great  one, 
being  stigmatised  as  "  loquacious  "  by  Cicero,  it  is  probable  that 
his  history  suffered  from  a  rhetorical  colouring. 

In  reviewing  the  list  of  historians  of  the  ante-classical  period. 
we  cannot  form  any  high  opinion  of  their  merits.  Fabius,  Cincius, 
and  Cato,  who  are  the  first,  are  also  the  greatest.  The  others 
seem  to  have  gone  aside  to  follow  out  their  own  special  viewSj 
without  possessing  either  accuracy  of  knowledge  or  grasp  of  mind 
sufficient  to  unite  them  with  a  general  comprehensive  treatment. 
The  simultaneous  appearance  of  so  many  writers  of  moderate  ability 
and  not  widely  divergent  views,  is  a  witness  to  the  literary  activity 
of  the  age,  but  does  not  say  much  for  the  force  of  its  intellectual 
creations. 

Note. — The  fragments  of  the  historians  have  been  carefully  collected  and 
tdited  with  explanations  and  lists  of  authorities  by  Peter.  (Vctcrum 
Ilistoricorum,  Itomanoram  Relliquiae.     Lipsiae,  1870.) 


*  vii  8.  ■  Liv  *xiii.  2.  •  Id.  xx.  &  4iv.  7, 


APPENDIX. 


103 


APPENDIX. 

On  the  Annates  Pontificum. 
(Chiefly  from  Les  Annates  des  Pon'fes,  Le  Clerc) 


The  Annales,  though  not  literature 
in  the  proper  sense,  were  so  impor- 
tant, as  forming  materials  for  it,  that 
it  may  be  well  to  give  a  short  account 
of  them.      They  were  called  Ponti- 
ficum, Maximi,  and  sometimes  Pub- 
lici,   to  distinguish  them   from  the 
Annales  of  other  towns,  of  families, 
or  of  historical  writers.     The  term 
Annales,   we  may  note  en  jmssant, 
was  ordinarily  applied  to  a  narrative 
of  facts  preceding  one's  own  time, 
Ilistoriae  being  reserved  for  a  con- 
temporary    account    (Gell.     v.     8). 
But  this  of  course  was  after  its  first 
sense  was  lost.     In  the  oldest  times, 
the  Pontifices,  as  they  were  the  law- 
yers, were  in  like  manner  the  his- 
torians of  Rome  (Cic.  de  Or.  ii.  12). 
Cicero  and  Yarro  repeatedly  consulted 
their    records,    which   Cicero    dates 
from  the  origin  of  the  city,  but  Livy 
only  from  Ancus   Martius   (i.   32). 
Servius,      apparently     confounding 
them  with  the  Fasti,  declares  that 
they  put  down  the  events  of  every 
day  (ad  Ae.  i.  37o) ;  and  that  they 
were    divided    into    eighty    books. 
Sempronius  Asellio  (Gell.  v.  18)  says 
they   mention    helium    quo    initum 
consule,   et  quo  modo  covfectum,    et 
quis     trhcmphans    introcerit,      and 
Oato    ridicules    the    meagreness    of 
their  information.     Nevertheless  it 
was    considered    authentic.      Cicero 
found  the  eclipse  of  the  year   350 
duly  registered ;    Virgil    and   Ovid 
drew   much   of  their   archaeological 
lore   (annalibus  eruta  priscis,    Ov. 
Fast  i.    7.)    and   Livy   his   lists   of 
prodigies  from  them.     Besides  these 
marvellous  facts,  others  were  doubt- 
less noticed,  as  new  laws,  dedication 
of  temples  or  monuments,  establish- 
ment  of  colonies,    deaths   of  great 
men,  erection  of  statues,   &c. ;    but 
all  with  the  utmost  brevity.     Unam 
dicendi  laudem  putant  esse  brevitatem 


(De  Or.  ii.  12).  Sentencps  c.MflJJT  it 
Livy  which  seem  excerpts  from  them, 
e.g.  (ii.  1). — His  consulibus  Fid* 
enae  obssesae,  Crvsiumina  capla,  Prae* 
neste  ab  Latinis  ad  Romanos  descivit. 
Varro,  in  enumerating  the  gods  whose 
altars  were  consecrated  by  Tatius, 
says  (L.  L.  v.  101),  ul  Annales  veteres 
nostri  dicunt,  and  then  names  them. 
Pliny  also  quotes  them  expressly, 
but  the  word  vetuslissimi  though 
they  make  it  probable  that  the 
Pontifical  Annals  are  meant,  do  not 
establish  it  beyond  dispute  (Plin. 
xxxiii.  6,  xxxiv.  11). 

It  is  probable,  as  has  been  said  in 
this  work,  that  the  Annales  Ponti- 
ficum were  to  a  great  extent,  though 
not  altogether,  destroyed  in  the  Gallic 
invasion.     But  Home  was   not  the 
only  city  that  had  Annales.     Pro- 
bably  all    the   chief    towns   of   the 
Oscan,  Sabine,  and  Umbrian  territory 
had  them.     Cato  speaks  of  Antemna 
as  older  than  Home,  no  doubt  from 
its  records.     Varro   drew  from   the 
archives  of  Tusculum  (L.  L.  vi.  16), 
Praeneste  had  its  Pontifical  Annal.i 
(Cic  de  Div.  ii.  41),  and  Anagnia  its 
libri  lintei{Yroi\Xo.  Ep.  ad  Ant.  iv.  4). 
Etrui  ia  beyond  question  possessed  an 
extensive  religious   literature,   with 
which  much  history  must  have  beet, 
mingled.     And   it  is  reasonable   to 
suppose,  as  Livy  implies,  that   the 
educated  Romans  were  familiar  with 
it.     From  this  many  valuable  facts 
would    be    preserved.      When    the 
Romans  captured  a  city,  they  brought 
over  its  gods  with  them,   and  it  ia 
possible,  its  sacred  records  also,  since 
their  respect  for  what  was  religious 
or  ancient,  was  not  limited  to  their 
own    nationality,    but   extended  to 
most   of  those   peoples  with  whom 
they  were  brought  in  contact.    From 
all  these  considerations  it  is  probable 
that  a  considerable  portion  of  historic 


104 


HISTORY    OF   ROMAN    LITERATURE. 


record  was  preserved  after  the  burn- 
ing of  the  city,  whether  from  the 
Annals  themselves,  or  from  portions 
of  them  inscribed  on  bronze  crstone, 
or  from  those  of  other  states,  which 
was  accessible  to,  and  used  by  Cato, 
Polybius,  Varro,  Cicero,  and  Verrius 
Flaccus.  It  is  also  probable  that 
these  records  were  collected  into  a 
work,  and  that  this  work,  while 
modernized  by  its  frequent  revisions, 
nevertheless  preserved  a  great  deal 
of  original  and  genuine  annalistic 
chronicle. 

The  Annates  must  be  distinguished 
from  the  Libri  Pontijicum,  which 
seem  to  have  been  a  manual  of  the 
Jus  Pontificate.  Cicero  places  them 
between  the  Jus  Civile  and  the 
Twelve  Tables  (De  Or  i.  43.)  The 
Libri  Pordificii  may  have  been  the 
same,  but  probably  the  term,  when 
correctly  used,  meant  the  ceremonial 
ritual  for  the  Sacerdotes,  Jlamines, 
&c.  This  general  term  included  the 
more  special  ones  of  Libri  sacrorum, 
sarerdotum,  haruspicini,  &c.  Some 
have  confounded  with  the  Annates  a 
different  sort  of  record  altogether, 
the  Indigila^nenta,  or  ancient  for- 
mulae of  prayer  or  incantation,  and 
the  AxanwUa,  to  which  class  the 


song 


of  the   Arval   P3i  others  in  *» 
ferred. 

As  to  the  amount  of  historical 
matter  contained  in  the  Annals,  it  Jfl 
impossible  to  pronounce  with  con- 
fidence. Their  falsification  through 
family  and  patrician  pride  is  well 
known.  But  the  earliest  historians 
must  have  possessed  sufficient  insight 
to  distinguish  the  obviously  fabulous. 
"We  cannot  suspect  Cato  of  placing 
implicit  faith  in  mythical  accounts. 
He  was  no  friend  to  the  aristocratic 
families  or  their  records,  and  took 
care  to  check  them  by  the  rival 
records  of  other  Italian  tribes.  Sem- 
pronius  Asellio,  in  a  passage  already 
alluded  to  (ap.  Gell.  v.  18),  dis- 
tinguishes the  annalistic  style  as 
puerile  (fabutas  pueris  narrare) ;  the 
historian,  he  insists,  should  go 
beneath  the  surface,  and  understand 
what  he  relates.  On  comparing  the 
early  chronicles  of  Rome  with  those 
of  St  Bertin  and  St  Denys  of  France, 
there  appears  no  advantage  in  a  his- 
torical point  of  view  to  be  claimed 
by  the  latter ;  both  contain  many 
real  events,  though  both  seek  to 
glorify  the  origin  of  the  nation  and 
its  rulers  by  constant  instances  o4 
divine  ov  sauitly  ieterveation. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  History  of  Oratory  before  Cicero. 

As  the  spiritual  life  of  a  people  is  reflected  in  their  poetry,  so 
their  living  voice  is  heard  in  their  oratory.  Oratory  is  the  child 
of  freedom.  Under  the  despotisms  of  the  East  it  could  have  no 
existence  ;  under  every  despotism  it  withers.  The  more  truly  free 
a  nation  is,  the  greater  will  its  oratory  Le.  In  no  country  was 
there  a  grander  field  for  the  growth  of  oratorical  genius  than  in 
Borne.  The  two  countries  that  approach  nearest  to  it  in  this 
respect  are  beyond  doubt  Athens  and  England.  In  both  eloquence 
has  attained  its  loftiest  height,  in  the  one  of  popular,  in  the  other 
of  patrician  excellence.  The  eloquence  of  Demosthenes  is  popular 
in  the  noblest  sense.  It  is  addressed  to  a  sovereign  people  who 
knew  that  they  were  sovereign.  Neither  to  deliberative  nor  to 
executive  did  they  for  a  moment  delegate  that  supreme  power 
which  it  delighted  them  to  exercise.  He  that  had  a  measure  or 
a  bill  to  propose  had  only  to  persuade  them  that  it  was  good,  and 
the  measure  passed,  the  bill  became  law.  But  the  audience  he 
addressed,  though  a  popular,  was  by  no  means  an  ordinary  one. 
It  was  fickle  and  capricious  to  a  degree  exceeding  that  of  all  other 
popular  assemblies ;  it  was  critical,  exacting,  intellectual,  in  a  still 
higher  degree.  No  audience  has  been  more  swayed  by  passion ; 
none  has  been  less  swayed  by  the  pretence  of  it.  Always  acces- 
sible to  flattery,  Athens  counts  as  her  two  greatest  orators  the  two 
men  who  never  stooped  to  flatter  her.  The  regal  tones  of  Pericles, 
the  prophetic  earnestness  of  Demosthenes,  in  the  response  which 
each  met,  bear  witness  to  the  greatness  of  those  who  heard  them. 
Even  Cleon  owed  his  greatest  triumphs  to  the  plainness  witli 
which  he  inveighed  against  the  people's  faults.  Intolerant  of 
inelegance  and  bombast,  the  Athenians  required  not  only  graceful 
speech,  but  speech  to  the  point.  Hence  Demosthenes  is  of  all 
ancient  orators  the  most  business-like.  Of  all  ancient  orators, 
it  has  been  truly  said  he  would  have  met  with  the  best  hearing 
from  the  House  of  Commons.     Nevertheless  there  is  a  great  differ- 


106         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

ence  "between  Athenian  and  English  eloquence.  The  former  was 
exclusively  popular;  the  latter,  in  the  strictest  sense,  is  hardly 
popular  at  all.  The  dignified  representatives  of  our  lower  house 
need  no  such  appeals  to  popular  passion  as  the  Athenian  assembly 
required ;  only  on  questions  of  patriotism  or  principle  would  they 
be  tolerated.  Still  less  does  emotion  govern  the  sedate  and 
masculine  eloquence  of  our  upper  house,  or  the  strict  and  closely- 
reasoned  pleadings  of  our  courts  of  law.  Its  proper  field  is  in  the 
addresses  of  a  popular  member  to  one  of  the  great  city  constitu- 
encies. The  best  speeches  addressed  to  hereditary  legislators  of 
to  elected  representatives  necessarily  involve  dilferent  features 
from  those  which  characterised  orations  addressed  directly  to  the 
entire  nation  assembled  in  one  place.  If  oratory  has  lost  in  fire, 
it  has  gained  in  argument.  In  its  political  sphere,  it  shows  a 
clearer  grasp  of  the  public  interest,  a  more  tenacious  restriction  to 
practical  issues ;  in  its  judicial  sphere,  a  more  complete  abandon- 
ment of  prejudice  and  passion,  and  a  subordination,  immeasurably 
greater  than  at  Athens,  to  the  authority  of  written  law. 

Let  us  now  compare  the  general  features  of  Greek  and  English 
eloquence  with  those  of  Rome.  Roman  eloquence  had  this  in 
common  with  Greek,  that  it  was  genuinely  popular.  In  their 
comitia  the  people  were  supreme.  The  orator  who  addressed 
them  must  be  one  who  by  passion  could  enkindle  passion,  and 
guide  for  his  own  ends  the  impulses  of  a  vast  multitude.  But 
how  different  was  the  multitude  !  Eickle,  impressionable,  vain ; 
patriotic  too  in  its  way,  and  not  without  a  rough  idea  of  justice. 
So  far  like  that  of  Greece  ;  but  here  the  resemblance  ends.  The 
mob  of  Rome,  for  in  the  times  of  real  popular  eloquence  it  had 
come  to  that,  was  rude,  fierce,  bloodthirsty :  where  Athens  called 
for  grace  of  speech,  Rome  demanded  vehemence ;  where  Athens 
looked  for  glory  or  freedom,  Rome  looked  for  increase  of  dominion, 
and  the  wealth  of  conquered  kingdoms  for  her  spoil.  That  in 
spite  of  their  fierce  and  turbulent  audience  the  great  Roman 
orators  attained  to  such  impressive  grandeur,  is  a  testimony  to  the 
greatness  of  the  senatorial  system  which  reared  them.  In  some 
respects  the  eloquence  of  Rome  bears  greater  resemblance  to  that 
of  England.  For  several  centuries  it  was  chiefly  senatorial.  The 
people  intrusted  their  powers  to  the  Senate,  satisfied  that  it  acted 
for  the  best ;  and  during  this  period  eloquence  was  matured  That 
special  quality,  so  well  named  by  the  Romans  gravitas,  which 
at  Athens  was  never  reached,  but  which  has  again  appeared  in 
England,  owed  its  de\elopment  to  the  august  discipline  of  the 
Senate.  Well  might  Cineas  call  this  body  an  assembly  of  kings. 
Never  have    patriotism,   tradition,   order,   expediency,   been   so 


EOMAN   ORATORY.  107 

powerfully  represented  as  there ;  never  have  change,  passion,  or 
fear  had  so  little  place.  We  can  well  believe  that  every  effective 
speech  began  with  the  words,  so  familiar  to  us,  maiores  nostri 
voluerunt,  and  that  it  ended  as  it  had  begun.  The  aristocratic 
stamp  necessarily  impressed  on  the  debates  of  such  an  assembly 
naturally  recalls  our  own  House  of  Lords.  But  the  freedom  of 
personal  invective  was  far  wider  than  modern  courtesy  would 
tolerate.  And,  moreover,  the  competency  of  the  Senate  to  decide 
questions  of  peace  or  war  threw  into  its  discussions  that  strong 
party  spirit  which  is  characteristic  of  our  Lower  House.  Thus 
the  senatorial  oratory  of  Eome  united  the  characteristics  of  that 
of  both  our  chambers.  It  was  at  once  majestic  and  vehement, 
patriotic  and  personal,  proud  of  traditionary  prestige,  but  animated 
with  the  consciousness  of  real  power. 

In  judicial  oratory  the  Romans,  like  the  Greeks,  compare 
unfavourably  with  us.  With  more  eloquence  they  had  less 
justice.  Nothing  sets  antiquity  in  a  less  prepossessing  light  than 
a  study  of  its  criminal  trials ;  nothing  seems  to  have  been  less 
attainable  in  these  than  an  impartial  sifting  of  evidence.  The 
point  of  law  is  obscured  among  overwhelming  considerations  from 
outside.  If  a  man  is  clearly  innocent,  as  in  the  case  of  Eoscius, 
the  enmity  of  the  great  makes  it  a  severe  labour  to  obtain  an 
acquittal ;  if  he  is  as  clearly  guilty  (as  Cliientius  would  seem  to 
have  been),  a  skilful  use  of  party  weapons  can  prevent  a  convic- 
tion.1 The  judices  in  the  public  trials  (which  must  be  distin- 
guished from  civil  causes  tried  in  the  praetor's  court)  were  at 
first  taken  exclusively  from  the  senators.  Gracchus  (122  B.o.) 
transferred  this  privilege  to  the  Equites ;  and  until  the  time  of 
Sulla,  who  once  more  reinstated  the  senatorial  class  (81  b.c), 
fierce  contests  raged  between  the  two  orders.  Pompey  (55  B.C.), 
following  an  enactment  of  Cotta  (70  b.c),  threw  the  office  open 
to  the  three  orders  of  Senators,  Knights,  and  Tribuni  Aerarii,  but 
fixed  a  high  property  qualification.  Augustus  added  a  fourth 
decuria  from  the  lower  classes,  and  Caligula  a  fifth,  so  that  Quin- 
tilian  could  speak  of  a  juryman  as  ordinarily  a  man  of  little 
intelligence  and  no  legal  or  general  knowledge.2 

This  would  be  of  comparatively  small  importance  if  a  presiding 


1  The  evil  results  of  a  judicial  system  like  that  of  Rome  are  shown  by  the 
lax  views  of  so  good  a  man  as  Quintilinn,  who  compares  deceiving  the  judges 
to  a  painter  producing  illusions  by  perspective  (ii.  17,  21).  "  Nee  Chero, 
cum  se  tenebras  ofludisse  iudicibus  in  causa  Cluentii  gloriutus  est,  nihil  ipse 
vidit.  Et  pictor,  cum  vi  artis  suae  efficit,  ut  qufiedam  eminere  in  opere, 
quaedam  reeessisse  credamus,  ipse  ea  plana  esse  non  nescit." 

2  x.  1.  32. 


108         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

judge  of  lofty  qualifications  guided,  as  with  us,  the  minds  of  thf 
jury  through  the  mazes  of  argument  and  sophistry,  and  set  the 
real  issue  plainly  before  them.  But  in  Rome  no  such  prerogative 
rested  with  the  presiding  judge,1  who  merely  saw  that  the  pro- 
visions of  the  law  under  which  the  trial  took  place  were  complied 
with.  The  judges,  or  rather  jurors,  were,  in  Rome  as  in  Athens,* 
both  from  their  number  and  their  divergent  interests,  open  to  in- 
fluences of  prejudice  or  corruption,  only  too  often  unscrupulously 
employed,  from  which  our  system  is  altogether  exempt.  In  the 
later  republican  period  it  was  not,  of  course,  ignorance  (the  jurors 
being  senators  or  equites)  but  bribery  or  partisanship  that  dis- 
graced the  decisions  of  the  bench.  Senator  and  eques  unceasingly 
accused  each  other  of  venality,  and  each  was  beyond  doubt  right 
in  the  charge  he  made.3  In  circumstances  like  these  it  is  evident 
that  dexterous  manipulation  or  passionate  pleading  must  take  the 
place  of  legitimate  forensic  oratory.  Magnificent,  therefore,  as  are 
the  efforts  of  the  great  speakers  in  this  field,  and  nobly  as  they 
often  rise  above  the  corrupt  practice  of  the;r  time,  it  is  impossible 
to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  iniquities  of  the  procedure,  and  to  help 
regretting  that  talent  so  glorious  was  so  often  compelled  either  to 
fail  or  to  resort  to  unworthy  methods  of  success. 

At  Rome  public  speaking  prevailed  from  the  first.  In  every 
department  of  life  it  was  necessary  for  a  man  to  express  in  clear 
and  vigorous  language  the  views  he  recommended.  Not  only  the 
senator  or  magistrate,  but  the  general  on  the  field  of  battle  had  to 
be  a  speaker.  On  his  return  from  the  campaign  eloquence  became 
to  him  what  strategy  had  been  before.  It  was  the  great  path  to 
civil  honours,  and  success  was  not  to  be  won  without  it.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  the  Romans  struck  out  a  vein  of  strong  native 
eloquence  before  the  introduction  of  Greek  letters.  Readiness  of 
speech  is  innate  in  the  Italians  as  in  the  French,  and  the  other 
qualities  of  the  Romans  contributed  to  enhance  this  natural  gift. 
Few  remains  of  this  native  oratory  are  left,  too  few  to  judge  by. 
We  must  form  our  opinion  upon  that  of  Cicero,  who,  basing  his 
judgme:  t  on  its  acknowledged  political  effects,  pronounces  strongly 
in  i*e  favour.  The  measures  of  Brutus,  of  Valerius  Poplicola,  and 
others,  testify  to  their  skill  in  oratory;4  and  the  great  honour  in 
which  the  orator  was  always  held,5  contrasting  with  the  low  posi- 
tion accorded  to  the  poet,  must  have  produced  its  natural  result 

1  See  the  article  Judicia  Publico,  in  Ramsay's  Manual  of  Roman  Antiquities, 

*  The  reader  is  referred  to  the  admirable  account  of  the  Athenian  dica» 
Uries  in  Grote's  History  of  Greece. 

8  See  Forsyth's  Life  of  Cicero,  ch.  8 

*  Brat  xiv.  53.  •  Quint,  ii.  16,  8. 


THE  EARLY   OKATOKS.  109 

But  though  the  practice  of  oratory  was  cultivated  it  was  not  reduced 
to  an  art.  Technical  treatises  were  the  work  of  Greeks,  and  Romans 
under  Greek  influence.  In  the  early  perkd  the  "  spoken  word  " 
was  all-important  Even  the  writing  down  of  speeches  after 
delivery  was  rarely,  if  ever,  resorted  to.  The  first  known  instance 
occurs  so  late  as  the  war  with  Pyrrhus,  280  B.C.,  when  the  old 
censor  Appius  committed  his  speech  to  writing,  which  Cicero  says 
that  he  had  read.  The  only  exception  to  this  rule  seems  to  have 
been  the  funeral  orations,  which  may  have  been  written  from  the 
first,  but  were  rarely  published  owing  to  the  youth  of  those  who 
delivered  them.  The  aspirant  to  public  honours  generally  b*gan 
his  career  by  composing  such  an  oration,  though  in  later  times  a 
public  accusation  was  a  more  favourite  debut  Besides  Appius's 
speech,  we  hear  of  one  by  Fabitjs  Cunctator,  and  of  another  by 
Metellus,  and  we  learn  from  Ennius  that  in  the  second  Punic  war 
(204  b.c.)  M.  Cornelius  Cethegus  obtained  the  highest  renown  for 
his  persuasive  eloquence. 

"  Additur  orator  Cornelius  suaviloquenti 
Ore  Cetliegus  ...  is  dictus  popularibus  olim  •  •  • 
Flos  delibatus  populi  Suadaeque  medulla."1 

The  first  name  on  which  we  can  pronounce  with  confidence  is 
that  of  Cato.  This  great  man  was  the  first  oratoi  as  he  was  the 
greatest  statesman  of  his  time.  Cicero2  praises  him  as  dignified  in 
commendation,  pitiless  in  sarcasm,  pointed  in  phraseology,  subtle 
in  argument  Of  the  150  speeches  extant  in  Cicero's  time  there 
was  not  one  that  was  not  stocked  with  brilliant  and  pithy  sayings ; 
and  though  perhaps  they  read  better  in  the  shape  of  extracts,  still 
all  the  excellences  of  oratory  were  found  in  them  as  a  whole ;  and 
yet  no  one  could  be  found  to  study  them.  Perhaps  Cicero's  language 
betrays  the  warmth  of  personal  admiration,  especially  as  in  a  later 
passage  of  the  same  dialogue3  he  makes  Atticus  dissent  altogether 
from  his  own  view.  "  I  highly  approve  (he  says)  of  the  speeches 
of  Cato  as  compared  with  those  of  his  own  date,  for  though  quite 
unpolished  they  imply  some  original  talent  .  .  .  but  to  speak  of 
him  as  an  orator  equal  to  Lysias  would  indeed  be  pardonable  irony 
if  we  were  in  jest,  but  you  cannot  expect  to  approve  it  seriously 
to  me  and  Brutus."  No  doubt  Atticus's  judgment  is  based  on  too 
high  a  standard,  for  high  finish  was  impossible  in  the  then  state  of 
the  language.  Still  Cato  wrote  probably  in  a  designedly  rude  style 
through  his  horror  of  Greek  affectation.  He  is  reported  to  have 
said  in  his  old  age  (150  B.O.),  "  Caussarum  illusirium  quasaniqut 

1  Uei9&>  quam  ?ocant  Graeci,   cuius  effector  est  Orator,  hanc  Suadafi 
ippellavit  Enniu8.--C&.  Br.  58. 
*  Brut.  65  »  Brut.  293. 


110         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

defend'  nunc  cum  maxime  conjitio  orationes"1  and  these  written 
speeches  were  no  doubt  improvements  on  those  actually  delivered, 
especially  as  Valerius  Maximus  says  of  his  literary  labours,2  "  Cato 
Graccis  Uteris  erudiri  concupivit,  quam  sero  inde  cognoscimus  quod 
etiam  Latinos  paene  iam  senex  didicerit.  His  eloquence  exterr^d 
to  every  sort ;  he  was  a  successful  patronus  in  many  private  trials ; 
he  was  a  noted  and  most  formidable  accuser ;  in  public  trials  we 
find  him  continually  defending  himself,  and  always  with  success  ; 
as  the  advocate  or  opponent  of  great  political  measures  in  the 
senate  or  assembly  he  was  at  his  greatest.  Many  titles  of  delibera- 
tive speeches  remain,  e.g.  "  de  rege  Attalo  et  vectigalibus  Asiae," 
"ut  plura  aera  equestria  fierent"  "aediles  plebis  sacrosanctos 
esse"  "  de  dote  "  (an  attack  upon  the  luxury  of  women),  and  others. 
His  chief  characteristics  were  condensed  force,  pregnant  brevity, 
strong  common  sense,  galling  asperity.  His  orations  were  neglected 
for  near  a  century,  but  in  the  Claudian  era  began  to  be  studied, 
and  were  the  subjects  of  commentary  until  the  time  of  Servius, 
who  speaks  of  his  periods  as  ill-balanced  and  unrhythmical 
(confragosa).s  There  is  a  most  caustic  fragment  preserved  in 
Fronto4  taken  from  the  speech  de  sumptu  suo,  recapitulating  his 
benefits  to  the  state,  and  the  ingratitude  of  those  who  had  profited 
by  them  ;  and  another  from  his  speech  against  Minucius  Thermus, 
who  had  scourged  ten  men  for  some  trivial  offence,5  which  in  its 
sarcasm,  its  vivid  and  yet  redundant  language,  recalls  the  manner 
of  Cicero. 

In  Cato's  time  we  hear  of  Ser.  Fulvius  and  L.  Cotta,  Scipio 
Africanus  and  Sulpicius  Gallus,  all  of  whom  were  good  though 
not  first-rate  speakers.  A  little  later  Laelius  and  the  younger 
Scipio  (185-129  b.c),  whose  speeches  were  extant  in  the 
time  of  Cicero,6  and  their  contemporaries,  followed  Cato's  ex- 
ample and  wrote  down  what  they  had  delivered.  It  is  not  clear 
whether  their  motive  was  literary  or  political,  but  more  probably 
the  latter,  as  party  feeling  was  so  high  at  Eome  that  a  powerful 
speech  might  do  good  work  afterwards  as  a  pamphlet.7  From  the 
passages  of  Scipio  Aemilianus  which  we  possess,  we  gather  that  he 
strove  to  base  his  style  on  Greek  models.  In  one  we  find  an 
elaborate  dilemma,  with  a  taunting  question  repeated  after  each 
deduction ;  in  another  we  find  Greek  terms  contemptuously  intro- 

»  Cic.  Sen.  ii.  38.  a  viii.  7,  1. 

3  Diom.  ii.  p.  468.  *  Ep.  ad.  Anton,  i.  2,  p.  99. 

•  Jordan,  p.  41.  6  Brut.  82. 

7  Wordsworth  gives  extracts  from  Aemilius  Paulus  Macedonicus  (228-160 
B  c.i,  C.  Titius  (161  b.c),  Metellus  Macedonicus  (140  b.c  ),  the  latter  appa- 
rently modernised. 


LAELIUS.  Ill 

duced  much  as  they  are  centuries  after  in  Juvenal ;  in  another  ws 
have  a  truly  patrician  epigram.  Being  asked  his  opinion  about 
the  death  of  Gracchus,  and  replying  that  the  act  was  a  righteous 
one,  the  people  raised  a  shout  of  defiance, — I'aceant,  inquit,  quibue 
J t alia  waver ca  non  mater  est,  quos  ego  sub  corona  vendidi — "  Be 
tsilent,  you  to  whom  Italy  is  a  stepdame  not  a  mother,  whom  I 
myself  have  sold  at  the  hammer  of  the  auctioneer." 

Laelius,  surnamed  Sapiens,  or  the  philosopher  (cons.  140),  is 
well  known  to  readers  of  Cicero  as  the  chief  speaker  in  the  ex- 
quisite dialogue  on  friendship,  and  to  readers  of  Horace  as  the 
friend  of  Scipio  and  Lucilius.1     Of  his  relative  excellence  as  an 
orator,  Cicero  speaks  with  caution.2     He  mentions  the  popidar 
preference  for  Laelius,  but  apparently  his  own  judgment  inclines 
the  other  way.     "  It  is  the  manner  of  men  to  dislike  one  man 
excelling  in  many  things.     Now,  as  Africanus  has  no  rival  in 
martial  renown,  though  Laelius  gained  credit  by  his  conduct  of 
the  war  with  Yiriathus,  so  as  regards  genius,  learning,  eloquence, 
and  wisdom,  though  both  are  put  in  the  first  rank,  yet  all  men 
are  willing  to   place  Laelius  above  Scipio."     It  is  certain  that 
Laelius's  style  was  much  less  natural  than  that  of  Scipio.     He 
affected  an  archaic  vocabulary  and  an  absence  of  ornament,  which, 
however,  was  a  habit  too  congenial  at  all  times  to  the  Boman 
mind  to  call  down  any  severe  disapproval.     What  Laelius  lacked 
was  force.     On  one  occasion  a  murder  had  been  committed  in  the 
forest  of  Sila,  which  the  consuls  were  ordered  to  investigate.     A 
company  of  pitch  manufacturers  were  accused,  and  Laelius  under- 
took their  defence.     At  its  conclusion  the  consuls  decided  on  a 
second  hearing.     A  few  days  after  Laelius  again  pleaded,  and 
this  time  with  an  elegance  and  completeness  that  left  nothing  to 
be  desired.     Still  the  consuls  were  dissatisfied.     On  the  accused 
begging  Laelius  to  make  a  third  speech,  he  replied  :  "  Out  of  con- 
sideration for  you  I  have  done  my  best.     You  should  now  go  to 
Ser.  Galba,  who  can  defend  you  with  greater  warmth  and  vehemence 
than  I."     Galba,  from  respect  to  Laelius,  was  unwilling  to  under- 
take the  case ;   but,  having   finally  agreed,  he   spent   the  short 
time  that  was  left  in  getting  it  by  heart,  retiring  into  a  vaulted 
chamber  with  some  highly  educated  slaves,  and  remaining  at  work 
till  after  the  consuls  had  taken  their  seat.     Being  sent  for  he  at 
last   came   out,   and,  as  Butilius   the   narrator   and   eye-witness 
declared,  with  such,  a  heightened  colour  and  triumph  in  hi3  eyes 
that  he  looked  like  one  who  had  already  won  his  cause.     Laelius 

1  He  and  Scipio  are  thus  admirably  characterised  by  Horace  :— 

u  Vii  tus  Scipiaiae  et  mitis  sapientia  Lacli  " 
1  Brut.  xxi.  83. 


1 12         HISTORY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 

himself  was  present.  The  advocate  spoke  with  such  force  and 
weight  that  scarcely  an  arg  mient  passed  unapplauded.  Not  only 
were  the  accused  released,  but  they  met  on  all  hands  with  sym- 
pathy and  compassion.  Cicero  adds  that  the  slaves  who  had 
helped  in  the  consultation  came  out  of  it  covered  with  bruises, 
such  was  the  vigour  of  body  as  well  as  mind  that  a  Eoman  brought 
to  bear  on  his  case,  and  on  the  unfortunate  instruments  of  its  pre- 
paration.1 

Galba  (180-136  b.c.  1)  was  awn  of  violence  and  bad  faith, 
not  for  a  moment  to  be  comparer  to  Laelius.  Fif  infamous 
cruelty  to  the  Lusitanians,  one  of  the  darkest  acts  in  all  history, 
has  covered  his  name  with  an  ineffaceable  stain.  Cato  at  eighty- 
five  years  of  age  stood  forth  as  his  accuser,  but  owing  to  his 
specious  art,  and  to  the  disgrace  of  Eome,  he  was  acquitted.2 
Cicero  speaks  of  him  as  peringeniosus  sed  non  satis  doctus,  and 
says  that  he  lacked  perseverance  to  improve  his  speeches  from  a 
literary  point  of  view,  being  contented  with  forensic  success. 
Yet  he  was  the  first  to  apply  the  right  sort  of  treatment  to  oratori- 
cal art;  he  introduced  digressions  for  ornament,  for  pathos,  for 
information ;  but  as  he  never  re-wrote  his  speeches,  they  remained 
unfinished,  and  were  soon  forgotten — Hanc  igitur  ob  caussam 
videtur  Laelii  mens  spirare  etiam  in  scriptis,  Galbae  autem  vis 
occidisse. 

Laelius  had  embodied  in  his  speeches  many  of  the  precepts  of 
the  Stoic  philosophy.  He  had  been  a  friend  of  the  celebrated 
Panaetius  (186-126  b.c.)  of  Ehodes,  to  whose  lectures  he  sent  his 
own  son-in-law,  and  apparently  others  too.  Eloquence  now  began 
to  borrow  philosophic  conceptions ;  it  was  no  longer  merely 
practical,  but  admitted  of  illustration  from  various  theoretical 
sources.  It  became  the  ambition  of  cultivated  men  to  fuse 
enlightened  ideas  into  the  substance  of  their  oratory.  Instances 
of  this  are  found  in  Sp.  Mummius,  Aemilius  Lepidus,  C.  Fannius, 
and  the  Augur  Mucius  Scaevola,  and  perhaps,  though  it  is 
difficult  to  say,  in  Carbo  and  the  two  Gracchi  These  are  the 
next  names  that  claim  our  notice. 

Carbo  (164-119  b.c),  the  supporter  first  of  the  Gracchi,  and 
then  of  their  murderers,  was  a  man  of  the  most  worthless  char- 
acter, but  a  bold  speaker,  and  a  successful  patron.  In  his  time 
the  quaestiones  perpetuae 3  were  constituted,  and  thus  he  had  an 

1  Cic.  Brut,  xxiii.     The  narrator  from  whom  Cicero  heard  it  was  Rutilim 
Rufus. 

2  He  did  not  attempt  to  justify  himself,  but  by  parading  his  little  chil- 
dren he  appealed  with  success  to  the  compassion  of  his  judges  ! 

8  In  149  B.C.  Piso  established  a  permanent  commission  to  sit  throughout 
**>*  vear  for  healing  all  charges  under  the  law  de  Repetundis.     Before  thif 


THE  GKACCHI.  113 

immense  opportunity  of  enlarging  his  forensic  experience.  He 
gained  the  reputation  of  being  the  first  pleader  of  his  day ;  he 
was  fluent,  witty,  and  forcible,  and  was  noted  for  the  strength 
and  sweetness  of  his  voice.  Tacitus  also  mentions  him  with 
respect  in  his  dialogue  de  Oratoribus.1 

The  two  Gracchi  were  no  less  distinguised  as  orators  than  as 
champions  of  the  oppressed.  Tiberius  (169-133  b.c.)  served  hia 
first  campaign  with  Scipio  in  Africa,  and  was  present  at  the  fall 
of  Carthage.  His  personal  friendship  for  the  great  soldier  was 
cemented  by  Scipio's  union  with  his  only  sister.  The  father  of 
Gracchus  was  a  man  of  sterling  worth  and  considerable  oratorical 
gifts;  his  mother's  virtue,  dignity,  and  wisdom  are  proverbial. 
Her  literary  accomplishments  were  extremely  great ;  she  educated 
her  sons  in  her  own  studies,  and  watched  their  progress  with 
more  than  a  preceptor's  care.  The  short  and  unhappy  career  of 
this  virtuous  but  imprudent  man  is  too  well  known  to  need 
allusion  here;  his  eloquence  alone  will  be  shortly  noticed.  It 
was  formed  on  a  careful  study  of  Greek  authors.  Among  his 
masters  was  Diophanes  of  Mitylene,  who  dwelt  at  Kome,  and 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  life  for  his  friendship  for  his  pupil. 
Tiberius's  character  was  such  as  to  call  for  the  strongest  expres- 
sions of  reverence  even  from  those  who  disapproved  his  political 
conduct.  Cicero  speaks  of  him  as  homo  sanctissimus,  and  Velleius 
Paterculus  says  of  him,  "  vita  innocentissimus,  ingenio  florentissi- 
mus,  proposito  sanctissimus,  tantis  denique  ornaius  virtidibus, 
quantas  perfecta  et  natura  et  industria  mortalis  conditio  recipit." 
His  appearance  formed  an  epoch  in  eloquence.  "  The  Gracchi 
employed  a  far  freer  and  easier  mode  of  speech  than  any  of 
their  predecessors."2  This  may  be  accounted  for  partly  through 
the  superiority  of  their  inherited  talent  and  subsequent  education, 
but  is  due  far  more  to  the  deep  conviction  which  stirred  their 
heart  and  kindled  their  tongue.  Cato  alone  presents  the  spectacle 
of  a  man  deeply  impressed  with  a  political  mission  and  carrying  it 
into  the  arena  of  political  conflict,  but  the  inspiration  of  Gracchu? 
was  of  a  far  higher  order  than  that  of  the  harsh  censor.  It  was  in 
its  origin  moral,  depending  on  the  eternal  principles  of  right  and 
wrong,  not  on  the  accident  of  any  particular  state  or  party  in  it. 
Hence  the  loftiness  of  his  speech,  from  which  sarcasm  and  even 
passion  were  absent.  In  estimating  the  almost  ideal  character  of 
the  enthusiasm  which  fired  him  we  cannot  forget  that  his  mother 

every  case  was  tried  by  a  special  commission.     Under  Sulla  all  crimes  wert 
brought  under  the  jurisdiction  of  their  respective  commissions,  which  estab- 
lished the  complete  system  of  courts  of  law. 
*  Ch.  34.  »  Brut.  97,  333. 


114         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

was  the  daughter  of  Seipio,  of  him  -who  believed  himself  tht 
special  favourite  of  heaven,  and  the  communicator  of  divinely 
sent  ideas  to  the  world.  Unhappily  we  have  no  fragments  of  the 
orations  of  Gracchus ;  the  more  brilliant  fame  of  his  brother  has 
eclipsed  his  literary  renown,  but  we  may  judge  of  their  special 
features  by  those  of  their  author's  character,  and  be  sure  that 
while  lacking  in  genius  they  were  temperate,  earnest,  pure,  and 
classical  In  fact  the  Gracchi  may  be  called  the  founders  of 
classical  Latin.  That  subdued  power  whose  subtle  influence 
penetrates  the  mind  and  vanquishes  the  judgment  is  unknown 
in  literature  before  them.  Whenever  it  appears  it  marks  the  rise 
of  a  high  art,  it  answers  to  the  vis  temper  at  a  which  Horace  so 
warmly  commends.  The  younger  son  of  Cornelia,  C.  Gracchus 
(154-121  b.c),  was  of  a  different  temper  from  his  brother.  He 
was  less  of  the  moralist,  more  of  the  artist.  His  feeling  was  more 
intense  but  less  profound.  His  brother's  loyalty  had  been  to  the 
state  alone ;  his  was  given  partly  to  the  state,  partly  to  the  shade 
of  his  brother.  In  nearly  every  speech,  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  he  denounced  his  murder.  "  Pessimi  Tiberium  meum 
fratrem,  optimum  virum,  interfecerunt."  Such  is  the  burden  of 
his  eloquence.  If  in  Tiberius  we  see  the  impressive  calmness  of 
reasoned  conviction,  in  Caius  we  see  the  splendid  impetuosity  of 
chivalrous  devotion.  And  yet  Caius  was,  without  doubt,  the 
greater  statesman  of  the  two.  The  measures,  into  which  hio 
brother  was  as  it  were  forced,  were  by  him  well  understood  and 
deliberately  planned.  They  amounted  to  nothing  less  than  a  sub- 
version of  the  existing  state.  The  senate  destroyed  meant 
Gracchus  sovereign.  Under  the  guise  of  restoring  to  the  people 
their  supreme  power,  he  paved  the  way  for  the  long  succession  of 
tyrants  that  followed.  His  policy  mingled  patriotism  and  revenge. 
The  corruption  and  oppression  that  everywhere  marked  the 
oligarchical  rule  roused  his  just  indignation;  the  death  of  his 
brother,  the  death  he  foresaw  in  store  for  himself,  stirred  him  into 
unholy  vengeance.  Many  of  his  laws  were  well  directed.  The 
liberal  attitude  he  assumed  towards  the  provinces,  his  strong 
desire  to  satisfy  the  just  claims  of  the  Italians  to  citizenship,  his 
breaking  down  the  exclusive  administration  of  justice,  these  are 
monuments  of  his  far-seeing  statesmanship.  But  his  vindictive 
legislation  with  regard  to  Popillius  Laenas,  and  to  Octavius  (from 
which,  however,  his  mother's  counsel  finally  deterred  him)  and 
above  all  his  creation  of  the  curse  of  Eome,  a  hungry  and  brutal 
proletariate,  by  largesses  of  corn,  present  his  character  as  a  public 
man  in  darker  colours.  As  Mommsen  says,  "  Eight  and  wrong, 
fortune  and  misfortune,  were  so  inextricably  blended  in  him  thai 


THE   GRACCHI.  115 

it  may  well  beseem  history  in  this  case  to  reserve  ha  judgment."1 
The  discord  of  his  character  is  increased  by  the  story  that  an 
inward  impulse  dissuaded  him  at  first  from  public  life,  that  agree- 
ably to  its  monitions  he  served  as  Quaestor  abroad,  and  pursued  foi 
some  years  a  military  career ;  but  after  a  time  his  brother's  spirit 
haunted  him,  and  urged  him  to  return  to  Rome  and  offer  his  life 
upon  the  altar  of  the  great  cause.  This  was  the  turning-point  of 
his  career.  He  returned  suddenly,  and  from  that  day  became  the 
enemy  of  the  senate,  the  avenger  of  his  brother,  and  the  champion 
of  the  multitude.  His  oratory  is  described  as  vehement  beyond 
example ;  so  carried  away  did  he  become,  that  he  found  it  neces- 
sary to  have  a  slave  behind  him  on  the  rostra,  who,  by  playing  a 
flute,  should  recall  him  to  moderation.2  Cicero,  who  strongly 
condemned  the  man,  pays  the  highest  tribute  to  his  genius,  say- 
ing in  the  Brutus  :  "Of  the  loftiest  talent,  of  the  most  burning 
enthusiasm,  carefully  taught  from  boyhood,  he  yields  to  no  man 
in  richness  and  exuberance  of  diction."  To  which  Brutus  assents, 
adding,  "Of  all  our  predecessors  he  is  the  only  one  whose  works 
I  read."  Cicero  replies,  "You  do  right  in  reading  him;  Latin 
literature  has  lost  irreparably  by  his  early  death.  I  know  not 
whether  he  would  not  have  stood  above  every  other  name.  His 
language  is  noble,  Ms  sentiments  profound,  his  whole  style  grave. 
His  works  lack  the  finishing  touch ;  many  are  admirably  begun, 
few  are  thoroughly  complete.  He  of  all  speakers  is  the  one  that 
should  be  read  by  the  young,  for  not  only  is  he  fit  to  sharpen 
talent,  but  also  to  feed  and  nourish  a  natural  gift."3 

One  of  the  great  peculiarities  of  ancient  eloquence  was  the 
frequent  opportunity  afforded  for  self-recommendation  or  self- 
praise.  That  good  taste  or  modesty  which  shrinks  from  men- 
tioning its  own  merits  was  far  less  cultivated  in  antiquity  than 
now.  Men  accepted  the  principle  not  only  of  acting  but  of 
speaking  for  their  own  advantage.  This  gave  greater  zest  to  a 
debate  on  public  questions,  and  certainly  sharpened  the  orator's 
powers.  If  a  man  had  benefited  the  state  he  was  not  ashamed 
to  blazon  it  forth ;  if  another  in  injuring  the  state  had  injured 
him,  he  did  not  altogether  sacrifice  personal  invective  to  patriotic 
indignation.4  The  frequency  of  accusations  made  this  "  art  of  self- 
defence  "  a  necessity — and  there  can  be  no  doubt  the  Roman  people 
listened  with  admiration  to  one  who  was  at  once  bold  and  skilful 

1  Hist.  Kom.  bk.  iv.  ch.  iii.  s  Cic.  de  Or.  III.  lx.  225. 

8  Brut,  xxxiii.  125. 

4  The  same  will  be  observe*!  in  Greece.  "We  are  apt  to  think  t\at  the 
spa^e  devoted  to  personal  abr.se  in  the  l>e  Corona  is  too  loiifjj.  But  it  was 
th*»  universal  custom. 


A  1(5  HISTORY  OF   ROxMAN   LITERATURE. 

trnough  to  sound  his  own  praises  well.    Cicero's  excessive  vanity  led 

him  to  overdo  his  part,  and  to  nauseate  at  times  even  well-disposed 

hearers.     From  the  fragments  of  Gracchus'  speeches  that  remain 

{unhappily  very  few)  we  should  gather  that  in  asserting  himself 

ae   was   without   a   rival.     The   mixture  of  simplicity  and   art 

removes  him  at  once  from  Cato's  bald  literalism  and   Cicero's 

egotism.     It  was,  however,  in  impassioned  attack  that  Gracchus 

rose  to  his  highest  tones.     The  terms  Gracchi  impetum,1  tumul- 

tuator  Gr archils,2  among  the  Latin  critics,  and  similar  ones  from 

Plutarch  and  Dio  among  the  Greeks,  attest  the  main  character  of 

his  eloquence.     His  very  outward  form  paralleled  the  restlessness 

of  his  soul.     He  moved  up  and  down,  bared  his  arm,  stamped 

violently,  made  fierce  gestures  of  defiance,  and  acted  through  real 

emotion  as  the  trained  rhetoricians  of  a  later  age  strove  to  act  by 

rules  of  art.     His  accusation  of  Piso  is  said  to  have  contained 

more   maledictions   than   charges;    and   we  can  believe   that   a 

temperament  so  fervid,  when  once  it  gave  the  reins  to  passion, 

lost  all  self-command.     It  is  possible  we  might  think  less  highly 

of  Gracchus's  eloquence  than  did  the  ancients,  if  his  speeches 

remained.      Their   lack   of   finish   and   repose   may   have   been 

unnoticed  by  critics  who  could  hurl  themselves  in  thought  not 

merely  into  the  feeling  but  the  very  place  which  he  occupied ;  but 

to  moderns,  whose  sympathy  with  a  state  of  things  so  opposite 

must  needs  be  imperfect,  it  is  possible  that  their  power  might  not 

have  compensated  for  the  absence  of  relief.     Important  fragments 

from  the  speech  apud  Censor es  (124  B.C.),  from  that  de  legibus  a 

je promulgatis  (123  b.c),  and  from  that  de  Mithridate  (123  B.C.), 

are  given  and  commented  on  by  Wordsworth. 

Among  the  friends  and  opponents  of  the  Gracchi  were  many 
orators  whose  names  are  given  by  Cicero  with  the  minute  care 
of  a  sympathising  historian ;  but  as  few,  if  any,  remains  of  their 
speeches  exist,  it  can  serve  no  purpose  to  recount  the  list.  Three 
celebrated  names  may  be  mentioned  as  filling  up  the  interval 
between  C.  Gracchus  and  M.  Antonius.  The  first  of  these  is 
Aemilius  Scaurus  (163-90?  b.c),  the  haughty  chief  of  the  senate, 
the  unscrupulous  leader  of  the  oligarchical  party.  His  oratory  is 
described  by  Cicero3  as  conspicuous  for  dignity  and  a  natural  but 
irresistible  air  of  command ;  so  that  when  he  spoke  for  a  defen- 
dant, he  seemed  like  one  who  gave  his  testimony  rather  than  one 
who  pleaded.  This  want  of  flexibility  unfitted  him  for  success  at 
the  bar;  accordingly,  we  do  not  find  that  he  was  much  esteemed 
as  a  patron ;  but  for  summing  up  the  debates  at  the  Senate,  ox 
delivering  an  opinion  on  a  great  piblic  question,  none  could  b« 
1  Tac.  Or.  26.  *  Fronto,  Ep.  ad  Ant.  p.  U4  3  Cic.  Brut,  xxix 


RUTILIUS — CATULUS.  117 

more  impressive.  Speeches  of  his  -were  extant  in  Cicero's  time ) 
also  an  autobiography,  which,  like  Caesar's  Commentaries,  was 
intended  to  put  his  conduct  in  the  most  favourable  light ;  these, 
however,  were  little  read.  Scaurus  lived  to  posterity,  not  in  hia 
writings,  but  in  his  example  of  stern  constancy  to  a  cause.1 

A  man  in  many  ways  resembling  him  but  of  purer  conduct,  waa 
Rutilius  (158-78  B.C.),  who  is  said  by  Cicero  to  have  been  a  splendid 
example  of  many-sided  culture.  He  was  a  scholar,  a  philosopher, 
a  jurist  of  high  repute,  a  historian,  and  an  orator,  though  the 
severity  of  the  Stoic  sect,  to  which  he  adhered,  prevented  his 
striving  after  oratorical  excellence.  His  impeachment  for  mal- 
versation in  Asia,  and  unjust  condemnation  to  banishment,  reflect 
strongly  on  the  formation  of  the  Roman  law-courts.  His  pride, 
however,  was  in  part  the  cause  of  his  exile.  For  had  he  chosen 
to  employ  Antonius  or  Crassus  to  defend  him,  an  acquittal  would  at 
least  have  been  possible  ;  but  conscious  of  rectitude,  he  refused  any 
patron,  and  relied  on  his  own  dry  and  jejune  oratory,  and  such  assist- 
ance as  his  young  friend  Cotta  could  give.  Sulla  recalled  him  from 
Smyrna,  whither  he  had  repaired  after  his  condemnation  ;  but  Ruti- 
lius refused  to  return  to  the  city  which  had  unjustly  expelled  him. 

Among  the  other  aristocratic  leaders,  Catulus,  the  "noble 
coUeague"  of  Marius2  (cons.  102),  must  be  mentioned.  He  was 
not  a  Stoic,  and  therefore  was  free  to  chose  a  more  ornamental 
method  of  speaking  than  Rutilius.  Cicero,  with  the  partiality  of 
a  senatorial  advocate,  gives  him  very  high  praise.  "  He  was 
educated  not  in  the  old  rough  style,  but  in  that  of  our  own  day, 
or  something  more  finished  and  elegant  still.  He  had  a  wide 
acquaintance  with  literature,  the  highest  courtesy  of  life  and 
manners  as  well  as  of  discourse,  and  a  pure  stream  of  genuine 
Latin  eloquence.  This  is  conspicuous  in  all  his  works,  but  most 
of  all,  in  his  autobiography,  written  to  the  poet  A.  Faring,  in  a 
style  full  of  soft  grace  recalling  that  of  Xenophon,  but  now, 
unhappily,  little,  if  at  all,  read.  In  pleading  he  was  successful 
but  not  eminent.  When  heard  alone,  he  seemed  excellent,  but 
when  contrasted  with  a  greater  rival,  his  faults  at  once  appeared. " 
His  chief  virtue  seems  to  have  been  the  purity  of  his  Latin  idiom. 
He  neither  copied  Greek  constructions  nor  aiiected  archaisms,  as 
Rutilius  Scaurus,  Cotta,  and  so  many  others  in  his  own  time, 
and  Sallust,  Lucretius,  and  Varro  in  a  later  age.3  The  absence 
of  any  recognised  standard  of  classical  diction  made  it  more  difficult 
than  at  first  appears  for  an  orator  to  fix  on  the  right  medium 
between  affectation  and  colloquialism. 

1  Hor.  Od.  i.  12.  2  Nobilis  oniatur  lauro  collega  secimda.— Juv.  j 

*  See  Brut  xxxv.  132,  sq. 


US  HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

The  era  inaugurated  by  the  Gracchi  was  in  the  highest  degree 
favourable  to  eloquence.  The  disordered  state  of  the  Republic,  in 
which  party-spirit  had  banished  patriotism  and  was  itself  surrender- 
ing to  armed  violence,  called  for  a  style  of  sj  Raking  commensurate 
with  the  turbulence  of  public  life.  Never  in  the  world's  history 
ha3  fierce  passion  found  such  exponents  in  so  great  a  sphere. 
It  is  not  only  the  vehemence  of  their  language — that  may 
have  been  paralleled  elsewhere — it  is  the  reality  of  it  that  im. 
presses  us.  The  word3  that  denounced  an  enemy  were  not  idly 
11  ung  into  the  forum;  they  fell  among  those  who  had  the  power 
and  the  will  to  act  upon  them.  He  who  sent  them  forth  must 
expect  them  to  ruin  either  his  antagonist  or  himself.  Each  man 
chose  his  side,  with  the  daggers  of  the  other  party  before  his  face. 
His  eloquence,  like  his  sword,  was  a  weapon  for  life  and  death. 
Only  in  the  French  Revolution  have  oratory  and  assassination  thus 
gone  hand  in  hand.  Demosthenes  could  lash  the  Athenians  into 
enthusiasm  so  great  that  in  delight  at  his  eloquence  they  forgot 
his  advice.  "  I  want  you,"  he  said,  "  not  to  applaud  me,  but  to 
march  against  Philip."1  There  was  no  danger  of  the  Roman 
people  forgetting  action  in  applause.  They  rejoiced  to  hear  the 
orator,  but  it  was  that  he  might  impel  them  to  tumultuous 
acti  vity ;  he  was  caterer  not  for  the  satisfaction  of  their  ears,  but 
for  the  employment  of  their  hands.  Thus  he  paid  a  heavy  price 
for  eminence.  Few  of  Rome's  greatest  orators  died  in  their  beds. 
Carbo  put  an  end  to  his  own  life ;  the  two  Gracchi,  Antonius, 
Drusus,  Cicero  himself,  perished  by  the  assassin's  hand ;  Crassua 
was  delivered  by  sudden  illness  from  the  same  fate.  It  is  not 
wonderful  if  with  the  sword  hanging  over  their  heads,  Roman 
orators  attain  to  a  vehemence  beyond  example  in  other  nations. 
The  charm  that  danger  lends  to  daring  is  nowhere  better  shown 
than  in  the  case  of  Cicero.  Timid  by  nature,  he  not  only  in  his 
speeches  hazarded  his  life,  but  even  when  the  dagger  of  Antony 
was  waiting  for  him,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  flee.  With 
the  civil  war,  however,  eloquence  was  for  a  time  suppressed. 
Neither  argument  nor  menace  could  make  head  against  the 
furious  brutality  of  Marius,  or  the  colder  butcheries  of  Sulla. 
Bu\  the  intervening  period  produced  two  of  the  greatest  speakers 
Rome  ever  saw,  both  of  whom  Cicero  places  at  the  very  summit 
of  their  art,  between  whom  he  professes  himself  unable  to  decide^ 
and  about  whom  he  gives  the  most  authentic  and  copious  account 
These  were  the  advocates  M.  Antonius  (143-87  b.o.)  and 
M.  Licinius  Crassus  (140-91  b.c). 

Both  of  them  spoke  in  the  senate  and  assembly  as  well  as  in  th# 

1  See  Dunlop,  vol.  ii.  p.  274. 


THE   LAW-COURTS.  1 J  9 

courts;  and  Crassus  was  perhaps  a  tetter  political  than  forensic 
orator.  Nevertheless  the  criticism  of  Cicero,  from  which  we  gain 
our  chief  knowledge,  is  mainly  directed  to  their  forensic  qualifica- 
tions ;  and  it  is  probable  that  at  the  period  at  which  they  flourished, 
the  law-courts  offered  the  fullest  combination  of  advantages  for 
bringing  out  all  the  merits  of  a  speaker.  For  the  comitia  were 
moved  solely  by  passion  or  interest ;  the  senate  was  swayed  by 
party  considerations,  and  was  little  touched  by  argument ;  whereas 
the  courts  offered  just  enough  necessity  for  exact  reasoning  without 
at  all  resisting  appeals  to  popular  passion.  Of  the  two  kinds  of 
judicia  at  Kome,  the  civil  cases  were  little  sought  after ;  the  public 
criminal  trials  being  those  which  the  great  patroni  delighted  to 
undertake.  A  few  words  may  not  be  out  of  place  here  on  the 
general  division  of  cases,  and  the  jurisdiction  of  the  magistrates, 
senate,  and  people,  as  it  is  necessary  to  understand  these  in  order 
to  appreciate  the  special  kind  of  oratory  they  developed. 

There  had  been,  previously  to  this  period,  two  praetors  in  Rome, 
the  Praetor  Urbanus,  who  adjudged  cases  between  citizens  in 
accordance  with  civil  law,  and  the  Praetor  Peregrinus,  who  pre- 
sided whenever  a  foreigner  or  alien  was  concerned,  and  judged 
according  to  the  principles  of  natural  law.  Afterwards  six  prae- 
tors were  appointed;  and  in  the  time  of  Antonius  they  judged 
not  only  civil  but  criminal  cases,  except  those  concerning  the 
life  of  a  citizen  or  the  welfare  of  the  state,  which  the  people 
reserved  for  themselves.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  supreme 
judicial  power  was  vested  in  the  sovereign  people  in  their  comitia ; 
that  they  delegated  it  in  public  matters  to  the  senate,  and  in 
general  legal  cases  to  the  praetor's  court,  but  that  in  every  capital 
charge  a  final  appeal  to  them  remained.  The  praetors  at  an  early 
date  handed  over  their  authority  to  other  judges,  chosen  either 
from  the  citizens  at  large,  or  from  the  body  of  Judices  Selecti,  who 
were  renewed  every  year.  These  subsidiary  judges  might  consist  of 
a  single  arbiter,  of  small  boards  of  three,  seven,  or  ten,  &c,  or  of  a 
larger  body  called  the  Centum,  viri,  chosen  from  the  thirty-five  tribes, 
who  sat  all  the  year,  the  others  being  only  appointed  for  the  special 
case.  But  over  their  decisions  the  praetor  exercised  a  superior 
supervision,  and  he  could  annul  them  on  appeal.  The  authorities 
on  which  the  praetor  based  his  practice  were  those  of  the  Twelve 
Tables  and  the  custom-law ;  but  he  had  besides  this  a  kind  of  legis- 
lative prerogative  of  his  own.  For  on  coming  into  office  he  had  to 
issue  an  edict,  called  edictum  perjtetuum,1  specifying  the  principles 
he  intended  to  guide  him  in  any  new  cases  that  might  arise.  If 
these  were  merely  a  continuation  of  those  of  his  predecessor,  his 

1  /.  e.  *>he  continuous  edict,  as  being  issued  afrssh  with  every  fresh  praetar 


120  HI6T0KY    uF   KOMAN    LITERATURE. 

edict  was  called  tralaiiaum,  or  "handed  on."  But  more  often 
they  were  of  an  independent  character,  the  result  of  his  knowledge 
or  his  prejudices;  and  too  often  he  departed  widely  from  them  in 
the  course  of  his  year  of  office.  It  was  not  until  after  the  time  oi 
Crass  us  and  Antonius  that  a  law  was  passed  enforcing  consistency 
in  this  respect  (67  b.c).  Thus  it  was  inevitable  that  great  loose- 
ness should  prevail  in  the  application  of  legal  principles,  from  the 
great  variety  of  supplementary  codes  (edicta),  and  the  instability 
of  ease-law.  Moreover,  the  praetor  was  seldom  a  veteran  lawyer, 
but  generally  a  man  of  moderate  experience  and  ambitious  views, 
who  used  the  praetorship  merely  as  a  stepping-stone  to  the  higher 
offices  of  state.  Hence  it  was  by  no  means  certain  that  he 
would  be  able  to  appreciate  a  complicated  technical  argument,  and 
as  a  matter  of  fact  the  more  popular  advocates  rarely  troubled 
themselves  to  advance  one. 

Praetors  also  generally  presided  over  capital  trials,  of  which  the 
proper  jurisdiction  lay  with  the  comitia.  In  Sulla's  time  their 
number  was  increased  to  ten,  and  each  was  chairman  of  the  quaestio 
which  sat  on  one  of  the  ten  chief  crimes,  extortion,  peculation, 
bribery,  treason,  coining,  forgery,  assassination  or  poisoning,  and 
violence.1  As  assessors  he  had  the  quaesitor  or  chief  juror,  and  a 
certain  number  of  the  Judices  Sclecti  of  whom  some  account  has 
been  already  given.  The  prosecutor  and  defendant  had  the  righ 
of  objecting  to  any  member  of  the  list.  If  more  than  one  accuser 
offered,  it  was  decided  which  shoidd  act  at  a  preliminary  trial 
called  Divinatio.  Owing  to  the  desire  to  win  fame  by  accusations, 
'his  occurrence  was  not  unfrequent. 

When  the  day  of  the  trial  arrived  the  prosecutor  first  spoke, 
explaining  the  case  and  bringing  in  the  evidence.  This  consisted 
of  the  testimony  of  free  citizens  voluntarily  given ;  of  slaves,  wrung 
from  them  by  torture  ;  and  of  written  documents.  The  best  advo- 
cates, as  for  instance  Cicero  in  his  Milo,  were  not  disposed,  any 
more  than  we  should  be,  to  attach  much  weight  to  evidence  obtained 
by  the  rack  ;  but  in  estimating  the  other  two  sources  they  differed 
from  us.  We  should  give  the  preference  to  written  documents; 
the  Romans  esteemed  more  highly  the  declarations  of  ctiizens. 
These  offered  a  grander  field  for  the  display  of  ingenuity  and  mis- 
representation ;  it  is,  therefore,  in  handling  these  that  the  celebrated 
advocates  put  forth  all  their  skill.  The  examination  of  evidence 
over,  the  prosecutor  put  forth  his  case  in  a  long  and  elaborate 
speech;  and  the  accused  was  then  allowed  to  defend  himself. 
Both  were,  as  a  rule,  limited  in  point  of  time,  and  sometimes  to  a 

1  De  repetundia,  de  peculatu,  de  ambitu,  de  inaiestate,  de  nummis  aduJ 
terinis,  de  falsis  testamentis,  de  sicariis,  de  vi. 


THE  LAW-COURTS.  121 

period  which  to  us  -would  seem  quite  inconsistent  with  justice  to 
the  case.  Instead  of  the  strict  probity  and  perfect  independence 
which  we  associate  with  the  highest  ministers  of  the  law,  the 
Roman  judices  were  often  canvassed,  bribed,  or  intimidated.  So 
flagitious  had  the  practice  become,  that  C  iero  mentions  a  whole 
bench  having  been  induced  by  indulgences  uf  the  most  abominable 
kind  to  acquit  Clodius,  though  manifestly  guilty.  We  know  also 
that  Pompey  and  Antony  resorted  to  the  practice  of  packing  the 
forum  with  hired  troops  and  assassins ;  and  we  learn  from  Cicero 
that  it  was  the  usual  plan  for  provincial  governors  to  extort  enough 
not  only  to  satisfy  their  own  rapacity,  but  to  buy  their  impunity 
from  the  judges.1 

Under  circumstances  like  these  we  cannot  wonder  if  strict  law 
was  little  attended  to,  and  the  moral  principles  that  underlay  it 
still  less.  The  chief  object  was  to  inflame  the  prejudices  or  anger 
of  the  jurors ;  or,  still  more,  to  excite  their  compassion,  to  serve 
one's  party,  or  to  acquire  favour  with  the  leading  citizen.  For 
example,  it  was  a  rule  that  men  of  the  same  political  views  should 
appear  on  the  same  side.  Cicero  and  Hortensius,  though  often 
opposed,  still  retained  friendly  feelings  for  each  other ;  but  when 
Cicero  went  over  to  the  senatorial  party,  the  last  bar  to  free  inter- 
course with  his  rival  was  removed,  since  henceforward  they  were 
always  retained  together. 

With  regard  to  moving  the  pity  of  the  judges,  many  instances 
of  its  success  are  related  both  in  Greece  and  Rome.  The  best  are 
those  of  Galba  and  Piso,  both  notorious  culprits,  but  both  acquitted ; 
the  one  for  bringing  forward  his  young  children,  the  other  for 
prostrating  himself  in  a  shower  of  rain  to  kiss  the  judges'  feet  and 
rising  up  with  a  countenance  bedaubed  with  mud  !  Facts  like 
these,  and  they  are  innumerable,  compel  us  to  believe  that  the 
reverence  for  justice  as  a  sacred  thing,  so  inbred  in  Christian  civi- 
lization, was  foreign  to  the  people  of  Rome.  It  is  a  gloomy 
spectacle  to  see  a  mighty  nation  deliberately  giving  the  rein  to 
passion  and  excitement  heedless  of  the  miscarriage  of  justice.  The 
celebrated  law,  re-enacted  by  Gracchus,  "  That  no  citizen  should  be 
condemned  to  death  without  the  consent  of  the  people,"  banished 
justice  from  the  sphere  of  reason  to  that  of  emotion  or  caprice.  As 
progress  widens  emotion  necessarily  contracts  its  sphere ;  the  pure 
light  of  reason  raises  her  beacon  on  high.  When  Antonius,  the 
most  successful  of  advocates,  declared  that  his  success  was  due  not 
to  legal  knowledge,  of  which  he  was  destitute,  but  to  his  making 
the  judges  pleased,  first  with  themselves  and  then  with  himself,  wTe 
may  appreciate  his  honesty ;  but  we  gladly  acknowledge  a  stf*<e  of 

1  Verr.  i.  14. 


122  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

things  as  past  and  gone  in  which  he  could  wind  up  an  accusation1 
with  these  words,  "  If  it  ever  was  excusable  for  the  Eoman  people 
to  give  the  reiris  to  their  just  excitement,  as  without  doubt  it  often 
has  been,  there  has  no  case  existed  in  which  it  was  more  excusable 
than  now." 

Cicero  regards  the  advent  of  these  two  men,  M.  Antonius  and 
Crassus,  as  analogous  to  that  of  Demosthenes  and  Hyperides  at 
Athens.  They  first  raised  Latin  eloquence  to  a  height  that 
rivalled  that  of  Greece.  But  though  their  merits  were  so  evenlv 
balanced  that  it  was  impossible  to  decide  between  them,  their 
excellencies  were  by  no  means  the  same.  It  is  evident  that 
Cicero  preferred  Crassus,  for  he  assigns  him  the  chief  place  in  his 
dialogue  de  Oratore,  and  makes  him  the  vehicle  of  his  own  views. 
Moreover,  he  was  a  man  of  much  more  varied  knowledge  than 
Antonius.  An  opinion  prevailed  in  Cicero's  day  that  neither  of 
them  was  familiar  with  Greek  literature.  This,  however,  was  a 
mistake.  Both  were  well  read  in  it  But  Antonius  desired  to  be 
thought  ignorant  of  it ;  hence  he  never  brought  it  forward  in  his 
speeches.  Crassus  did  not  disdain  the  reputation  of  a  proficient, 
but  he  wished  to  be  regarded  as  despising  it.  These  relics  of  old 
Eoman  narrowness,  assumed  whether  from  conviction  or,  more 
probably,  to  please  the  people,  are  remarkable  at  an  epoch  so 
comparatively  cultured.  They  show,  if  proof  were  wanted,  how 
completely  the  appearance  of  Cicero  marks  a  new  period  in  litera- 
ture, for  he  is  as  anxious  to  popularise  his  knowledge  of  Greek 
letters  as  his  predecessors  had  been  to  hide  theirs.  The  advan- 
tages of  Antony  were  chiefly  native  and  personal ;  those  of 
Crassus  acquired  and  artificial.  Antony  had  a  ready  wit,  nn 
impetuous  flow  of  words,  not  always  the  best,  but  good  enough 
for  the  purpose,  a  presence  of  mind  and  fertility  of  invention  that 
nothing  could  quench,  a  noble  person,  a  wronderful  memory,  and 
a  sonorous  voice  the  very  defects  of  which  he  turned  to  his 
advantage ;  he  never  refused  a  case ;  he  seized  the  bearings  of 
each  with  facility,  and  espoused  it  with  zeal ;  he  knew  from  long 
practice  all  the  arts  of  persuasion,  and  was  an  adept  in  the  use  of 
them ;  in  a  word,  he  was  thoroughly  and  genuinely  popular. 

Crassus  was  grave  and  dignified,  excellent  in  interpretation, 
definition,  and  equitable  construction,  so  learned  in  law  as  to  be 
called  the  best  lawyer  among  the  orators  ; 2  and  yet  with  all  this 
grace  and  erudition,  he  joined  a  sparkling  humour  which  was 
always  lively,  never  commonplace,  and  whose  brilliant  sallies  no 

1  That  against  Caepio,  T)e  Or.  i..  48,  199. 

8  Eloqucntium  iurispcrilissimus:  Scaevola  was  iurisperitorum  eloquentissi 
mus. — Biut.  145. 


ANTONIUS  AND  CRASSUS.  123 

misfortune  could  check.  His  first  speech  was  an  Recusation  of 
the  renegade  democrat  Carbo ;  his  last,  which  was  also  his  best, 
was  an  assertion  of  the  privileges  of  his  order  against  the  over- 
bearing insolence  of  the  consul  Philippus.  The  consul,  stung  tc 
fury  by  the  sarcasm  of  the  speaker,  bade  his  lictor  seize  his  pledges 
as  a  senator.  This  insult  roused  Crassus  to  a  supreme  effoit. 
His  words  are  preserved  by  Cicero1 — "  an  tu,  quum  omnem  auctoii- 
tatem  universi  ordinis  pro  pignore  putaris,  eamque  in  conspectu 
populi  Romani  concideris,  me  his  existimas  pignoribus  posse 
terreri?  Non  tibi  ilia  sunt  caedenda,  si  Crassum  vis  coercere; 
haec  tibi  est  incidenda  lingua ;  qua  vel  evulsa,  spiritu  ipso  libidi- 
nem  tuam  libertas  mea  refutabit."  This  noble  retort,  spoken 
amid  bodily  pain  and  weakness,  brought  on  a  fever  which  within 
a  week  brought  him  to  the  grave  (91  b.c),  as  Cicero  says,  by  no 
means  prematurely,  for  he  was  thus  preserved  from  the  horrors 
that  followed.  Antonius  lived  for  some  years  longer.  It  was 
under  the  tyrannical  rule  of  Marius  and  Cinna  that  he  met  his 
end.  Having  found,  through  the  indiscretion  of  a  slave,  that  he 
was  in  hiding,  they  sent  hired  assassins  to  murder  him.  Tho 
men  entered  the  chamber  where  the  great  orator  lay,  and  prepared 
to  do  their  bloody  work,  but  he  addressed  them  in  terms  of  such 
pathetic  eloquence  that  they  turned  back,  melted  with  pity,  and 
declared  they  could  not  kill  Antonius.  Their  leader  then  came  in, 
and,  less  accessible  to  emotion  than  his  men,  cut  off  Antonius' 
head  and  carried  it  to  Marius.  It  was  nailed  to  the  rostra, 
"exposed,"  says  Cicero,  "to  the  gaze  of  those  citizens  whose 
interests  he  had  so  often  defended." 

After  the  death  of  these  two  great  leaders,  there  appear  two 
inferior  men  who  faintly  reflect  their  special  excellences.  These  are 
C.  Aurelius  Cotta  (consul  75  b.c.)  an  imitator  of  Antonius,  though 
without  any  of  his  fire,  and  P.  Sulpicius  Rufus  (fl.  121-88  b.c.) 
a  bold  and  vigorous  speaker,  who  tried,  without  success,  to  repro- 
duce the  high-bred  wit  of  Crassus.  He  was,  according  to  Cicero,2 
the  most  tragic  of  orators.  His  personal  gifts  were  remarkable, 
his  presence  commanding,  his  voice  rich  and  varied.  His  fault 
was  want  of  application.  The  ease  with  which  he  spoke  made 
him  dislike  the  labour  of  preparation,  and  shun  altogether  that  of 
written  composition.  Cotta  was  exactly  the  oposite  of  Sulpicius. 
His  weak  health,  a  rare  thing  among  the  Romans  of  his  day, 
compelled  him  to  practise  a  soft  sedate  method  of  speech,  per- 
suasive rather  than  commanding.  In  this  he  was  excellent,  but 
that  his  popularity  was  due  chiefly  to  want  of  competitors  is 
ahown  by  the  suddenness  of  his  eclipse  on  the  first  a  ppcarar  ce  of 
'  De  Or.  iiL  1,  4  »  Brut.  Hr. 


124  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Hortensius.  The  gentle  courteous  character  of  Cotta  is  well  brought 
out  in  Cicero's  dialogue  on  oratory,  where  his  remarks  are  con 
trasted  with  the  mature  but  distinct  views  of  Crassus  and 
Antonius,  with  the  conservative  grace  of  Catulus,  and  the  mascu- 
line but  less  dignified  elegance  of  Caesar. 

Another  speaker  of  this  epoch  is  Carbo,  son  of  the  Carbo  already 
mentioned,  an  adherent  of  the  senatorial  party,  and  opponent  of 
the  celebrated  Livius  Drusus.  On  the  death  of  Drusus  he  de- 
livered an  oration  in  the  assembly,  the  concluding  words  of  winch 
are  preserved  by  Cicero,  as  an  instance  of  the  effectiveness  of  the 
trochaic  rhythm.  They  were  received  with  a  storm  of  applause, 
as  indeed  their  elevation  justly  merits.1  "  0  Marce  Druse,  patron 
appello ;  tu  dicere  solehas  sacram  esse  rempublicam :  quicunque 
earn  violamssent,  ab  omnibus  esse  ei  poenas  persohdas.  Patris 
dictum  sapiens  temeritas  filii  comprobavit."  In  this  grand  sentence 
sounds  the  very  voice  of  Rome ;  the  stern  patriotism,  the  rever- 
ence for  the  words  of  a  father,  the  communion  of  the  living  with 
their  dead  ancestors.  We  cannot  wonder  at  the  fondness  with 
which  Cicero  lingers  over  these  ancient  orators;  while  fully 
acknowledging  his  own  supeiiority,  how  he  tlraws  out  their 
beauties,  each  from  its  crude  environment ;  how  he  shows  them 
to  be  deficient  indeed  in  cultivation  and  learning,  but  to  ring  true 
to  the  old  tradition  of  the  state,  and  for  that  very  reason  to  speak 
with  a  power,  a  persuasiveness,  and  a  charm,  which  all  the  rules 
of  polished  art  could  never  hope  to  attain. 

In  the  concluding  passage  of  the  De  Oratore  Catulus  says  he 
wishes  Hortensius  (114-50  b.c.)  could  have  taken  part  in 
the  debate,  as  he  gave  promise  of  excelling  in  all  the  quali- 
fications that  had  been  specified.  Crassus  replies — "He  not 
only  gives  promise  of  being,  but  is  already  one  of  the  first  of 
orators.  I  thought  so  when  I  heard  him  defend  the  cause  of  the 
Africans  during  the  year  of  my  consulship,  and  I  thought  so  still 
more  strongly  when,  but  a  short  while  ago,  he  spoke  on  behalf  of 
the  king  of  Bithynia."  This  is  supposed  to  have  been  said  in 
91  b.c,  the  year  of  Crassus's  death,  four  years  after  the  first 
appearance  of  Hortensius.  This  brilliant  orator,  who  at  the  age  of 
nineteen  spoke  before  Crassus  and  Scaevola  and  gained  their  unquali- 
fied approval,  and  who,  after  the  death  of  Antonius,  rose  at  once 
into  the  position  of  leader  of  the  Roman  bar,  was  as  remarkable 
for  his  natural  as  for  Ins  acquired  endowments.  Eight  years 
senior  to  Cicero,  "  prince  of  the  courts " 2  when  Cicero  began 
public  life,  for  some  time  his  rival  and  antagonist,  but  afterwards 
his  illustrious  though  admittedly  inferioi  coadjutor,  and  towards  the 
1  Orator,  lxiii.  213.  3  Judiciorum  rex.    Divin.  in  Ae.  Caecil.  7. 


HORTENSITJS.  12 


close  of  both  of  theii  lives,  his  intimate  and  valued  friend  ;  Hor- 
tensius  is  one  of  the  few  men  in  whom  success  did  not  banish 
enjoyment,  and  displacement  by  a  rival  did  not  turn  to  bitterness. 
Without  presenting  the  highest  virtue,  his  career  of  forty-four  year? 
is  nevertheless  a  pleasant  and  instructive  one.     It  showed  consist- 
ency, independence,   and   honour;   he  never  changed  sides,   he 
never  flattered  the  great,  he  never  acquired  wealth  unjustly.     In 
these  points  he  may  be  contrasted  with  Cicero.     But  on  the  other 
hand,  he  was  inactive,  luxurious,  and  effeminate ;  not  like  Cicero, 
fighting  to  the  last,  but  retiring  from  public  life  as  soon  as  he  saw 
the  domination  of  Pompey  or  Caesar  to  be  inevitable ;  not  even 
in  his  professional  labours  showing  a  strong  ambition,  but  yielding 
with  epicurean  indolence  the  palm  of  superiority  to  his  young 
rival ;  still  less  in  his  home  life  and  leisure  moments  pursuing 
like  Cicero  his  self-culture  to  develop  his  own  nature  and  enrich 
the  minds  and  literature  of  his  countrymen,  but  regaling  himself 
at  luxurious  banquets  in  sumptuous  villas,  decked  with  everything 
that  could  delight  the  eye  or  charm  the  fancy  j  preserving  herds 
of  deer,  wild  swine,  game  of  all  sorts  for  field  and  feast ;  stocking 
vast  lakes  with  rare  and  delicate  fish,  to  which  this  brilliant 
epicure  was  so  attached  that  on  the  death  of  a  favourite  lamprey 
he  shed  tears;    buying  the   costliest   of   pictures,   statues,   and 
embossed  works;  and  furnishing  a  cellar  which  yielded  to  his 
unworthy  heir  10,000  casks  of  choice  Chian  wine.     When  we 
read  the  pursuits  in  which  Hortensius  spent  his  time,  we  cannot 
wonder  that  he  was  soon  overshadowed ;  the  stuff  of  the  Roman 
was  lacking  in  him,  and  great  as  were  his  talents,  even  they,  as 
Cicero  justly  remarks,  were  not  calculated  to  insure  a  mature  or 
lasting  fame.     They  lay  in  the  lower  sphere  of  genius  rather  than 
the  higher ;  in  a  bright  expression,  a  deportment  graceful  to  such 
a  point  that  the  greatest  actors  studied  from  him  as  he  spoke ;  in 
a  voice  clear,  mellow,  and  persuasive ;  in  a  memory  so  prodigious 
that  once  after  being  present  at  an  auction  and  challenged   to 
repeat  the  list  of  sale,  he  recited  the  entire  catalogue  without 
hesitation,  like  the  sailor  the  points  of  his  compass,  backwards. 
As  a  consequence   he  was   never  at  a  loss.      Everything  sug- 
gested itselt  at  the  right  moment,  giving  him  no  anxiety  that 
might  spoil  the  ease  of  his  manner  and  his  matchless  confidence  ■ 
and  if  to  all  this  we  add  a  copiousness  of  expression  and  rich 
splendour  of  language  exceeding  all  that  had  ever  been  heard  in 
Rome,  the  encomiums  so  freely  lavished  on  him  by  Cicero  both  in 
speeches  and  treatises,  hardly  seem  exaggerated. 

There  are  few  things  pleasanter  in  the  history  of  literature  than 
the  friendship  of  these  two  great  men,  un tinctured,  at  least  ob 


126  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

I 

Hortensius's  part,  by  any  drop  of  jealousy;  and  on  Cicero's,  though 
now  and  then  overcast  by  unworthy  suspicions,  yet  asserted  after- 
wards with  a  warm  generosity  and  manly  confession  of  his  weak- 
ness which  left  nothing  to  be  desired.  Though  there  were  but 
eight  years  between  them,  Hortensius  must  be  held  to  belong  to 
the  older  period,  since  Cicero's  advent  constitutes  an  era. 

The  chief  events  in  the  life  of  Hortensius  are  as  follows.  He 
served  two  campaigns  in  the  Social  War  (91  B.C.),  but  soon  aftei 
gave  up  military  life,  and  took  no  part  in  the  civil  struggles  that 
followed.  His  ascendancy  in  the  courts  dates  from  83  b.c.  and 
continued  till  70  b.c.  when  Cicero  dethroned  him  by  the  prosecu- 
tion of  Verres.  Hortensius  was  consul  the  following  year,  and 
afterwards  we  find  him  appearing  as  advocate  on  the  senatorial 
side  against  the  self-styled  champions  of  the  people,  whose  cause 
at  that  time  Cicero  espoused  {e.g.  in  the  Gabinian  and  Mani- 
lian  laws).  When  Cicero,  after  his  consulship  (63  b.c),  went  over 
to  the  aristocratic  party,  he  and  Hortensius  appeared  regularly  on 
the  same  side,  Hortensius  conceding  to  him  the  privilege  of 
speaking  last,  thus  confessing  his  own  inferiority.  The  party 
character  of  great  criminal  trials  has  already  been  alluded  to,  and 
is  an  important  element  in  the  consideration  of  them.  A  master 
of  eloquence  speaking  for  a  senatorial  defendant  before  a  jury  of 
equites,  might  hope,  but  hardly  expect,  an  acquittal ;  and  a  sena- 
torial orator,  pleading  before  jurymen  of  his  own  order  needed  not 
to  exercise  the  highest  art  in  order  to  secure  a  favourable  hearing. 
It  has  been  suggested1  that  his  fame  is  in  part  due  to  the  circum- 
stance, fortunate  for  him,  that  he  had  to  address  the  courts  as 
reorganised  by  Sulla.  The  coalition  of  Pompey,  Caesar,  and 
Crassus  (60  b.c),  sometimes  called  the  first  Triumvirate,  showed 
plainly  that  the  state  was  near  collapse ;  and  Hortensius,  despairing 
of  its  restitution,  retired  from  public  life,  confining  himself  to  the 
duties  of  an  advocate,  and  more  and  more  addicting  himself  to 
refined  pleasures.  The  only  blot  on  Ins  character  is  his  unscrupu- 
lousness  in  dealing  with  the  judges.  Cicero  accuses  him2  of 
bribing  them  on  one  occasion,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  not 
contradicted,  though  his  rival  was  present,  makes  the  accusation 
more  than  probable.  The  fame  of  Hortensius  waned  not  only 
through  Cicero's  superior  lustre,  but  also  because  of  his  own  lack 
of  sustained  effort.  The  peculiar  style  of  his  oratory  is  from  this 
point  of  view  so  ably  criticised  by  Cicero  that,  having  no  remains 
of  Hortensius  to  judge  by,  we  translate  some  of  his  remarks.3 

1  Diet.  Biog.  s.  v.  Hortensius.     Forsyth's  Hortensius,  and  an  article  on  hiry 
bv  M.  Charpentier  in  hi*  "Writers  of  the  Empire,"  should  be  consulted 
"•  Div.  in  Q.  Caecil.  3  Brut.  xcv. 


HORTENSIUS.  127 

"  If  we  inquire  why  Hortensius  obtained  more  celebrity  in  hig 
youth  than  in  his  mature  age,  we  shall  find  there  are  two  good 
reasons.  First  because  his  style  of  oratory  was  the  Asiatic,  which 
is  more  becoming  to  youth  than  to  age.  Of  this  style  there  are  two 
divisions ;  the  one  sententious  and  witty,  the  sentiments  neatly 
turned  and  graceful  rather  than  grave  or  sedate :  an  example  of 
this  in  history  is  Timaeus ;  in  oratory  during  my  own  boyhood 
there  was  Hierocles  of  Alabanda,  and  still  more  his  brother 
Menecles,  both  wh^se  speeches  are,  considering  their  style, 
worthy  of  the  highest  praise.  The  other  division  does  not  aim  at 
a  frequent  use  of  pithy  sentiment,  but  at  rapidity  and  rush  of 
expression;  this  now  prevails  throughout  Asia,  and  is  charac- 
terised not  only  by  a  stream  of  eloquence  but  by  a  graceful  and 
ornate  vocabulary :  Aeschylus  of  Cnidos,  and  my  own  contem- 
porary Aeschines  the  Milesian,  are  examples  of  it.  They  possess  a 
fine  now  of  speech,  but  they  lack  precision  and  grace  of  senti- 
ment. Both  these  classes  of  oratory  suit  young  men  well,  but  in 
older  persons  they  show  a  want  of  dignity.  Hence  Hortensius, 
who  excelled  in  both,  obtained  as  a  young  man  the  most  tumul- 
tuous applause.  For  he  possessed  that  strong  leaning  for  polished 
and  condensed  maxims  which  Menecles  displayed ;  as  with  whom, 
so  with  Hortensius,  some  of  these  maxims  were  more  remarkable 
for  sweetness  and  grace  than  for  aptness  and  indispensable  use ; 
and  so  his  speech,  though  highly  strung  and  impassioned  without 
losing  finish  or  smoothness,  was  nevertheless  not  approved  by  the 
older  critics.  I  have  seen  Philippus  hide  a  smile,  or  at  other 
times  look  angry  or  annoyed  j  but  the  youths  were  lost  in  admira- 
tion, and  the  multitude  was  deeply  moved.  At  that  time  he  was 
in  popular  estimation  almost  perfect,  and  held  the  first  place 
without  dispute.  For  though  his  oratory  lacked  authority,  it  was 
thought  suitable  to  his  age ;  but  when  his  position  as  a  consular 
and  a  senator  demanded  a  weightier  style,  he  still  adhered  to  the 
same ;  and  having  given  up  his  former  unremitting  study  and 
practice,  retained  only  the  neat  concise  sentiments,  but  lost  the 
rich  adornment  with  which  in  old  times  he  had  been  wont  to  clothe 
his  thoughts." 

The  Asiatic  style  to  which  Cicero  here  alludes,  wag  affected,  as 
its  name  implies,  by  the  rhetoricians  of  Asia  Minor,  and  is  gene- 
rally distinguished  from  the  Attic  by  its  greater  profusion  of 
"verbal  ornament,  its  more  liberal  use  of  tropes,  antithesis,  figures, 
&c.  and,  generally,  by  its  inanity  of  thought.  Rhodes,  which  had 
been  so  well  able  to  appreciate  the  eloquence  of  Aeschines  aud 
Demosthenes,  first  opened  a  crusade  against  this  false  taste,  ind 
Cicero  (who  himself  studied  at  Rhodes  as  well  as  Athenf)  broughi 


128  HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

about  a  similar  return  to  purer  models  at  Eome.  The  Asiatic 
style  represents  a  permanent  type  of  oratorical  effort,  the  desire  to 
use  word-painting  instead  of  life-painting,  turgidity  instead  of 
vigour,  allusiveness  instead  of  directness,  point  instead  of  wit, 
frigid  inflation  instead  of  real  passion.  It  borrows  poetical  effects, 
and  heightens  the  colour  without  deepening  the  shade.  In 
Greece  Aeschines  shows  some  traces  of  an  Asiatic  tendency  as 
contrasted  with  the  soberer  self-restraint  of  Demosthenes.  In  Rome 
Hortensius,  as  contrasted  with  Cicero,  and  even  Cicero  himself, 
according  to  some  critics,  as  contrasted  with  Brutus  and  Calvus, — 
though  this  charge  is  hardly  well-founded, — in  France  Bossuet,  in 
England  Burke,  have  leaned  towards  the  same  fault. 

We  have  now  traced  the  history  of  Roman  Oratory  to  the  time 
of  Cicero,  and  we  have  seen  that  it  produces  names  of  real 
eminence,  not  merely  in  the  history  of  Rome,  but  in  that  of 
humanity.  The  loss  to  us  of  the  speeches  of  such  orators  as  Cato, 
Gracchus,  Antonius,  and  Crassus  is  incalculable;  did  we  possess 
them  we  should  be  able  form  a  truer  estimate  of  Roman  genius  than 
if  we  possessed  the  entire  works  of  Ennius,  Pacuvius,  or  Attius.  For 
the  great  men  who  wielded  this  tremendous  weapon  were  all 
burgesses  of  Rome,  they  had  all  the  good  and  all  the  bad  qualities 
which  that  name  suggests,  many  of  them  in  an  extraordinary 
degree.  They  are  all  the  precursors,  models,  or  rivals  of  Cicero, 
the  greatest  of  Roman  orators ;  and  in  them  the  true  structure  of 
the  language  as  well  as  the  mind  of  Rome  would  have  been  fully, 
though  unconsciously,  revealed.  If  the  literature  of  a  country  be 
taken  as  the  expression  in  the  field  of  thought  of  the  national 
character  as  pourtrayed  in  action,  this  group  of  orators  would 
be  considered  the  most  genuine  representative  of  Roman  literature. 
The  permanent  contributions  to  human  thought  would  indeed 
have  been  few  :  neither  in  eloquence  nor  in  any  other  domain  did 
Rome  prove  herself  creative,  but  in  eloquence  she  at  least  showed 
herself  beyond  expression  masculine  and  vigorous.  The  supreme 
interest  of  her  history,  the  massive  characters  of  the  men  that 
wrought  it,  would  here  have  shown  themselves  in  the  working ; 
men  whose  natures  are  a  riddle  to  us,  would  have  stood  out,  judged 
by  their  own  testimony,  clear  as  statues ;  and  we  should  not  have 
had  so  often  to  pin  our  faith  on  the  biassed  views  of  party,  or  the 
uncritical  panegyrics  of  school-bred  professors  or  courtly  rhetori- 
cians. The  next  period  shows  us  the  culmination,  the  short 
bloom,  and  the  sudden  fall  of  national  eloquence,  when  with  the 
death  of  Cicero  the  "  Latin  tongue  was  silent," l  and  as  he  himself 
says,  clamatores  not  oratores  were  left  to  succeed  him. 

*  "Deflendus  Cicero  est,  Latiaeque  siientia  linguae." — Sen  Sua*. 


CHAPTEK  XT. 

Other  kinds  of  Prose  Literature,  Grammar,  Rhetoric^ 
and  Philosophy  (147-63  b.c). 

Great  literary  activity  of  all  kinds  was,  after  the  third  Punic 
war,  liable  to  continual  interruption  from  political  struggles  01 
revolutions.  But  between  each  two  periods  of  disturbance  there 
was  generally  an  interval  in  which  philosophy,  law,  and  rhetoric 
were  carefully  studied.  As,  however,  no  work  of  this  period  has 
come  down  to  us  except  the  treatise  to  Herennius,  our  notice  of  it 
will  be  proportionately  general  and  brief.  We  shall  touch  on  the 
principal  studies  in  order.  First  in  time  as  in  importance  conies 
Law,  the  earliest  great  representative  of  which  is  P.  Mucius  Scae- 
vola,  consul  in  133  B.C.  but  better  known  as  Pontifex  Maximus. 
In  this  latter  office,  which  he  held  for  several  years,  Mucius  did 
good  service  to  literature.  He  united  a  high  technical  training 
with  a  liberal  mind,  and  superintended  the  publication  of  the 
Annates  Pontificum  from  the  earliest  period  to  his  own  date.  This 
was  a  great  boon  to  historians.  He  gave  another  to  jurists.  His 
responsa  were  celebrated  for  their  insight  into  the  principles  of 
Law,  and  for  the  minute  knowledge  they  dispUyed.  He  was 
conscientious  enough  to  study  the  law  of  every  case  before  he 
undertook  to  plead  it,  a  practice  which,  however  commendable, 
was  rare  even  with  advocates  of  the  highest  fame,  as,  for  example, 
M.  Antonius. 

The  jurisconsult  of  this  period  used  to  offer  his  services  without 
payment  to  any  who  chose  to  consult  him.  At  first  he  appeared 
in  the  forum,  but  as  his  fame  and  the  number  of  applicants 
increased,  he  remained  at  home  and  received  all  day.  His  replies 
were  always  oral,  but  when  written  down  were  considered  as 
authoritative,  and  often  quoted  by  the  orators.  In  return  for  this 
laborious  occupation,  he  expected  the  support  of  his  clients  in  his 
candidature  for  the  offices  of  state.  An  anecdote  is  preserved  of  C. 
Figulus,  a  jurisconsult,  who,  not  having  been  successful  for  the 
consulship,  addressed  his  consultores  thus,  "  You  know  how  to 

I 


130  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

consult  me,  but  not  (it  seems)  how  to  make  me  consul."1  In 
addition  to  the  parties  in  a  suit,  advocates  in  other  causes  often 
came  to  a  great  jurisconsult  to  be  coached  in  the  law  of  their  case. 
For  instance,  Antonius,  who,  though  a  ready  speaker,  had  no 
knowledge  of  jurisprudence,  often  went  to  Scaevola  for  this  pur- 
pose. Moreover  there  were  always  one  or  two  regular  pupils  who 
accompanied  the  jurisconsult,  attended  carefully  to  his  words,  and  ■ 
committed  them  assiduously  to  memory  or  writing.  Cicero  himself 
did  this  for  the  younger  Scaevola,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation  of 
that  clear  grasp  on  the  civil  law  which  was  so  great  a  help  to  him 
in  his  more  difficult  speeches.  It  was  not  necessary  that  the  pupil 
should  himself  intend  to  become  a  consultus;  it  was  enough  that  he 
desired  to  acquire  the  knowledge  for  public  purposes,  although,  of 
course,  it  required  great  interest  to  procure  for  a  young  man  so 
high  a  privilege.  Cicero  was  introduced  to  Scaevola  by  the  orator 
Crassus.  The  family  of  the  Mucii,  as  noticed  by  Cicero,  were 
traditionally  distinguished  by  their  legal  knowledge,  as  that  of  the 
Appii  Claudii  were  by  eloquence.  The  Augur  Q.  Mucius  Scaevola 
who  comes  midway  between  Publius  and  his  son  Quintus  was 
somewhat  less  celebrated  than  either,  but  he  was  nevertheless  a  man 
of  eminence.  He  died  probably  in  87  b.c.,  and  Cicero  mentions 
that  it  was  in  consequence  of  this  event  that  he  himself  became  a 
pupil  of  his  nephew.2 

The  great  importance  of  Eeligious  Law  must  not  be  forgotten  in 
estimating  the  acquirements  of  these  men.  Though  to  us  the  Jus 
Augur  ale  and  Jus  Pontificium  are  of  small  interest  compared  with 
the  Jus  Civile  ;  yet  to  the  Romans  of  120  b.c.,  and  especially  to 
an  old  and  strictly  aristocratic  family,  they  had  all  the  attraction 
of  exclusiveness  and  immemorial  authority.  In  all  countries 
religious  law  exercises  at  first  a  sway  far  in  excess  of  its  proper 
province,  and  Eome  was  no  exception  to  the  rule.  The  publication 
of  civil  law  is  an  era  in  civilization.  Just  as  the  chancellorship 
and  primacy  of  England  were  often  in  the  hands  of  one  person 
and  that  an  ecclesiastic,  so  in  Eome  the  pontifices  had  at  first  the 
making  of  almost  all  law.  What  a  canonist  wa»*  to  Mediaeval 
Europe,  a  pontifex  was  to  senatorial  Eome.  In  tne  time  of  which 
we  are  now  speaking  (133-63  b.c),  the  secular  law  had  fully 
asserted  its  supremacy  on  its  own  ground,  and  it  was  the  dignity 
and  influence,  not  the  power  of  the  post,  that  made  the  pontificate 
so  great  an  object  of  ambition,  and  so  inaccessible  to  upstart 
candidates.     Even  for  Cicero  to  obtain  a  seat  in  the  college  of 

1  An  tos  consulere  scitis,  consulem  facere  nescitis  T    See  Teuffel,  R.  L 
§  130,  6. 
*  Lael.  L     His  character  generally  is  given,  Brut.  xxvi.  102. 


Q.  MUCIUS  SCAEVOLA.  131 

augurs  was  no  easy  task,  although  lie  had  already  won  his  way  to 
the  consulship  and  been  hailed  as  the  savioir  of  his  country. 

The  younger  Scaevola  (Q.  Mucius  Scaevola),  who  had  been  his 
father's  pupil,1  and  was  the  most  eloquent  of  the  three,  was  born 
about  135  B.C.,  was  consul  95  with  Licinius  Crassus  for  his  colleague, 
and  afterwards  Pontifex  Maximus.  He  was  an  accomplished 
Greek  scholar,  a  man  of  commanding  eloquence,  deeply  versed  in 
the  Stoic  philosophy,  and  of  the  highest  nobility  of  character.  As 
Long  well  says,  "  He  is  one  of  those  illustrious  men  whose  fame  is 
not  preserved  by  his  writings,  but  in  the  more  enduring  monument 
of  the  memory  of  all  nations  to  whom  the  language  of  Eome  ig 
known."  His  chief  work,  which  was  long  extant,  and  is  highly 
praised  by  Cicero,  was  a  digest  of  the  civil  law.  Rudorff  says  of 
it,2  "  For  the  first  time  we  meet  here  with  a  comprehensive,  uniform, 
and  methodical  system,  in  the  place  of  the  old  interpretation  of 
laws  and  casuistry,  of  legal  opinions  and  prejudices."  Immediately 
on  its  publication  it  acquired  great  authority,  and  was  commented 
upon  within  a  few  years  of  the  death  of  its  author.  It  is  quoted  in 
the  Digest,  and  is  the  earliest  work  to  which  reference  is  there  made.3 
He  was  especially  clear  in  definitions  and  distinctions,4  and  the 
grace  with  which  he  invested  a  dry  subject  made  him  deservedly 
popular.  Though  so  profound  a  lawyer,  he  was  quite  free  from 
the  offensive  stamp  of  the  mere  professional  man.  His  urbanity, 
unstained  integrity,  and  high  position,  fitted  him  to  exercise  a 
widespread  influence.  He  had  among  his  hearers  Cicero,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  and  among  jurists  proper,  Aquillius  Gallus, 
Balbus  Lucilius,  and  others,  who  all  attained  to  eminence.  His 
virtue  was  such  that  his  name  became  proverbial  for  probity  as  for 
legal  eminence.  In  Horace  he  is  coupled  with  Gracchus  as  the 
ideal  of  a  lawyer,  as  the  other  of  an  orator. 

"  Gracchus  lit  hie  illi  foret,  huic  ut  Mucius  ille."5 

The  great  oratorical  activity  of  this  age  produced  a  corresponding 
interest  in  the  theory  of  eloquence.  We  have  seen  that  many  of 
the  orators  received  lessons  from  Greek  rhetoricians.  We  have 
seen  also  the  deep  attraction  which  hetoric  possessed  over  the 
Koman  mind.  It  was,  so  to  speak,  the  form  of  thought  in  which 
their  intellectual  creations  were  almost  all  cast.  Such  a  maxim  as 
that  attributed  to  Scaevola,  Fiat  iustitia  :  mat  caelum,  is  not  legal 
but  rhetorical.  The  plays  of  Attius  owed  much  of  their  success 
to  the  ability  with  which  statement  was  pitted  against  counter- 

1  Q.  Mucins  Scaevola,  Pontifex,  scr  of  Publius,  nephew  of  Q.  Muciui 
Scaevola,  Augur. 

8  Quoted  by  Teuffel,  §  141,  2.  8  Diet.  Biog. 

*  See  De  Or.  i.  53,  229  »  Ep.  ii.  2,  89. 


132  HISTORY  OF  EOMAN  LITERATUKu:. 

statement,  plea  against  plea.  The  philosophic  works  of  Cicero  an 
coloured  with  rhetoric.  Cases  are  advanced,  refuted,  or  summed 
up,  with  a  view  to  presentability  (veri  simile),  not  abstract  truth. 
The  history  of  Livy,  the  epic  of  Virgil,  are  eminently  rhetorical. 
A  Roman  when  not  lighting  was  pleading.  It  was,  then,  important 
that  he  should  be  well  grounded  in  the  art.  Greek  rhetoricians, 
in  spite  of  Cato's  opposition,  had  been  steadily  making  way,  and 
increasing  the  number  of  their  pupils;  but  it  was  not  until  about 
93  b.c.  that  Plotius  Gallus  taught  the  principles  of  Rhetoric  in 
Latin.  Quintilian  says,1  "  Latinos  dicendi  praeceptores  extremis 
L.  Crassi  temporibus  coepisse  Cicero  auctor  est:  quorum  insignis 
maxime  Plotius  fuit."  He  was  the  first  of  that  long  list  of  writers 
who  expended  wit,  learning,  and  industry,  in  giving  precepts  of  a 
mechanical  character  to  produce  what  is  unproduceable,  namely,  a 
successful  style  of  speaking.  Their  treatises  are  interesting,  for 
they  show  on  the  one  hand  the  severe  technical  application  which 
the  Romans  were  always  willing  to  bestow  in  order  to  imitate  the 
Greeks;  and  on  the  other,  the  complex  demands  of  Latin  rhetoric 
as  contrasted  with  the  simpler  and  more  natural  style  of  modern 
times. 

The  most  important  work  on  the  subject  is  the  treatise  dedicated 
to  Herennius  (80  b.c),  written  probably  in  the  time  of  Sulla,  and 
for  a  long  time  reckoned  among  Cicero's  works.  The  reason  for 
this  confusion  is  twofold.  First,  the  anonymous  character  of  the 
work;  and,  secondly,  the  frequent  imitations  of  it  by  Cicero  in  his 
De  Inventione,  an  incomplete  essay  written  when  he  was  a  young 
man.  Who  the  author  was  is  not  agreed;  the  balance  of  proba- 
bility is  in  favour  of  Cornificius.  Kayser2  points  out  several  coin- 
cidences between  Cornificius's  views,  as  quoted  by  Quintilian,  and 
the  rhetorical  treatise  to  Herennius.  The  author,  whoever  he  may 
be,  was  an  accomplished  man,  and,  while  a  warm  admirer  of  Greek 
eloquence,  by  no  means  disposed  to  concede  the  inferiority  of  his 
own  countrymen.  His  criticism  upon  the  inanitas?  of  the  Greek 
manuals  is  thoroughly  just.  They  were  simply  guides  to  an 
elegant  accomplishment,  and  had  no  bearing  on  real  life.  It  was 
quite  different  with  the  Roman  manuals.  These  were  intended 
to  fit  the  reader  for  forensic  contests,  and,  we  cannot  doubt,  did 
materially  help  towards  this  result.  It  was  only  in  the  imperial 
epoch  that  empty  ingenuity  took  the  place  of  activity,  and  rhetoric 
6unk  to  the  level  of  that  of  Greece.  There  is  nothing  calling  foi 
special  remark  in  the  contents  of  the  book,  though  all  is  good. 

1  ii.  4,  42.  *  See  Teuffel,  Rom.  L't.  149,  §  4. 

•  Compare  Lucr.  i   633.     Magis  inter  inanes  quamde  gravis  inter  Graiof 
qui  vera  requirunt. 


GRAMMATICAL  SCIENCE.  133 

The  chief  points  of  interest  in  this  subject  will  be  discussed  in  a 
later  chapter.  The  style  is  pure  and  copious,  the  Latin  that 
finished  idiom  which  is  the  finest  vehicle  for  Koman  thought,  that 
spoken  by  the  highest  circles  at  the  best  period  of  the  language. 

The  science  of  Grammar  was  now  exciting  much  attention.  The 
Stoic  writers  had  formulated  its  main  principles,  and  had  assigned 
it  a  place  in  their  system  of  general  philosophy.  It  remained  for 
the  Roman  students  to  apply  the  Greek  treatment  to  their  own 
language*  Apparently,  the  earliest  labours  were  of  a  desultory 
kind.  Tho  poet  Lucilius  treated  many  points  of  orthography, 
pronunciation,  and  the  like ;  and  he  criticised  inaccuracies  of 
syntax  or  metre  in  the  poets  who  had  gone  before  him.  A  little 
later  we  find  the  same  mine  further  worked.  Quintilian  observes 
that  grammar  began  at  Rome  by  the  exegesis  of  classical  autnors. 
Octavius  Lampadio  led  the  van  with  a  critical  commentary  on  the 
Punica  of  Naevius,  and  Q.  Vargunteius  soon  after  performed  the 
same  office  for  the  annals  of  Ennius.  The  first  scientific  gram 
marian  was  Aelius  Stilo,  a  Roman  knight  (144-70  B.C.).  His 
name  was  L.  Aelius  Praeconinus ;  he  received  the  additional 
cognomen  Stilo  from  the  facility  with  which  he  used  his  pen, 
especially  in  writing  speeches  for  others  to  deliver.  At  the  same 
time  he  was  no  orator,  and  Cicero  implies  that  better  men  often 
used  his  compositions  through  mere  laziness,  and  allowed  them  to 
pass  as  their  own.1  Cicero  mentions  in  more  than  one  place  that 
he  himself  had  been  an  admiring  pupil  of  Aelius.  And  Lucilius 
addressed  some  of  his  satires  to  him,  probably  those  on  grammar, 

"  Has  res  ad  te  scr'ptas  Luci  misimus  Aeli ;" 

so  that  he  is  a  bond  of  connection  between  the  two  epochs.  His 
learning  was  profound  and  varied.  He  dedicated  his  investigations 
to  Varro,  who  speaks  warmly  of  him,  but  mentions  that  his  ety- 
mologies are  often  incorrect.  He  appears  to  have  bestowed  special 
care  on  Plautus,  in  which  department  he  was  followed  by  Varro, 
some  of  the  results  of  whose  criticism  have  been  already  given. 

The  impulse  given  by  Stilo  was  rapidly  extended.  Grammar 
became  a  favourite  study  with  the  Romans,  as  indeed  it  was  one 
for  which  they  were  eminently  fitted.  The  perfection  to  which 
they  carried  the  analysis  of  sentences  and  the  practical  rules  for 
correct  speech  as  well  as  the  systematization  of  the  accidence,  has 
made  their  grammars  a  model  for  all  modern  school-works.  It  is 
only  recently  that  a  dee]  er  scientific  knowledge  has  reorganised 
the  entire  treatment,  and  substituted  for  superficial  analogy  the 
true  basis  of  a  common  structure,  not  only  between  Greek  and 

1  Brut.  lvi.  207. 


134  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Latin,  but  among  all  the  languages  of  the  Indo-European  class. 
Nevertheless,  the  Eoman  grammarians  deserve  great  praise  for  theii 
elaborate  results  in  the  sphere  of  correct  writing.  No  defects  of 
syntax  perplex  the  reader  of  the  classical  authors.  Imperfect  and 
unpliable  the  language  is,  but  never  inexact.  And  though  the 
meaning  is  often  hard  to  settle,  this  is  owing  rather  to  the 
inadequacy  of  the  material  than  the  carelessness  of  the  writer. 

Side  by  side  with  rhetoric  and  grammar,  Philosophy  made  its 
appearance  at  Eome.  There  was  no  importation  from  Greece  to 
which  a  more  determined  resistance  was  made  from  the  first  by  the 
national  party.  In  the  consulship  of  Strabo  and  Messala  (162  b.c.) 
a  decree  was  passed  banishing  philosophers  and  rhetoricians  from 
Eome.  Seven  years  later  took  place  the  embassy  of  the  three 
leaders  of  the  most  celebrated  schools  of  thought,  Diogenes  the  Stoic, 
Critolaus  the  Peripatetic,  and  Carneades  the  New  Academician. 
The  subtilty  and  eloquence  of  these  disputants  rekindled  the 
interest  in  philosophy  which  had  been  smothered,  not  quenched, 
by  the  vigorous  measures  of  the  senate.  There  were  two  reasons 
why  an  interest  in  these  studies  was  dreaded.  First,  they  tended 
to  spread  disbelief  in  the  state  religion,  by  which  the  ascendency 
of  the  oligarchy  was  in  great  measure  maintained ;  secondly,  they 
distracted  men's  minds,  and  diverted  them  from  that  exclusive 
devotion  to  public  life  which  the  old  regime  demanded.  Never- 
theless, some  of  the  greatest  nobles  ardently  espoused  the  cause 
of  free  thought.  After  the  war  with  Perseus,  and  the  detention 
of  the  Achaean  hostages  in  Eome,  many  learned  Greeks  well  versed 
in  philosophical  inquiries  were  brought  into  contact  with  their  con- 
querors in  a  manner  well  calculated  to  promote  mutual  confidence. 
The  most  eminent  of  these  was  Polybius,  who  lived  for  years  on 
terms  of  intimacy  with  Scipio  and  Laelius,  and  imparted  to  them 
his  own  wide  views  and  varied  knowledge.  Prom  them  may  be 
dated  the  real  study  of  Philosophy  at  Eome.  They  both  attained 
the  highest  renown  in  their  lifetime  and  after  their  death  for  their 
philosophical  eminence,1  but  apparently  they  left  no  philosophical 
writings.  The  spirit,  however,  in  which  they  approached  philos- 
ophy is  eminently  characteristic  of  their  nation,  and  determined 
the  lines  in  which  philosophic  activity  afterwards  moved. 

In  no  department  of  thought  is  the  difierence  between  the  Greek 
and  Eoman  mind  more  clearly  seen ;  in  none  was  the  form  more 
completely  borrowed,  and  the  spirit  more  completely  missed.  The 
object  of  Greek  philosophy  had  been  the  attainment  of  absolute 
fcruth.     The  long  line  of  thinkers  from  Thales  to  Aristotle  had 

i  De  Or.  il  37 


PHILOSOPHY.  135 

approached  philosophy  in  the  "belief  that  they  could  "by  it  bo 
enabled  to  understand  the  cause  of  all  that  is.  This  lofty  antici- 
pation pervades  all  their  theories,  and  by  its  fruitful  influence 
engenders  that  wondrous  grasp  and  fertility  of  thought l  which 
gives  their  speculations  an  undying  value.  It  is  true  that  in  the 
later  systems  this  consciousness  is  less  strongly  present.  It 
struggles  to  maintain  itself  in  stoicism  and  epicureanism  against 
the  rising  claims  of  human  happiness  to  be  considered  as  the  goal 
of  philosophy.  In  the  New  Academy  (which  in  the  third  century 
before  Christ  was  converted  to  scepticism)  and  in  the  sceptical 
school,  we  see  the  first  confession  of  incapacity  to  discover  truth. 
Instead  of  certainties  they  offer  probabilities  sufficient  to  guide  us 
through  life ;  the  only  axiom  which  they  assert  as  incontrovertible 
being  the  fact  that  we  know  nothing.  Thus  instead  of  proposing 
as  the  highest  activity  of  man  a  life  of  speculative  thought,  they 
came  to  consider  inactivity  and  impassibility  2  the  chief  attainable 
good.  Their  method  of  proof  was  a  dialectic  which  strove  to  show 
the  inconsistency  or  uncertainty  of  their  opponent's  positions,  but 
which  did  not  and  could  not  arrive  at  any  constructive  result. 
Philosophy  (to  use  an  ancient  phrase)  had  fallen  from  the  sphere 
of  knowledge  to  that  of  opinion.* 

Of  these  opinions  there  were  three  which  from  their  definiteness 
were  well  calculated  to  lay  hold  on  the  Eoman  mind.  The  first 
was  that  of  the  Stoics,  that  virtue  is  the  only  good ;  the  second 
that  of  the  Epicureans,  that  pleasure  is  the  end  of  man ;  the  third 
that  of  the  Academy,  that  nothing  can  be  known.4  These  were  by 
no  means  the  only,  far  less  the  exclusive  characteristics  of  each 
school ;  for  in  many  ways  they  all  strongly  resembled  each  other, 
particularly  stoicism  and  the  New  Academy ;  and  in  their  definition 
of  what  should  be  the  practical  result  of  their  principles  all  were 
substantially  agreed.5 

But  what  to  the  Greeks  was  a  speculative  principle  to  be  drawn 
out  by  argument  to  its  logical  conclusions,  to  the  Eomans  was  a 
practical  maxim  to  be  realized  in  life.  The  Eomans  did  not  under- 
stand the  love  of  abstract  truth,  or  the  charm  of  abstract  reasoning 
employed  for  its  own  sake  without  any  ulterior  end.  To  profess 
the  doctrines  of  stoicism,  and  live  a  life  cf  self-indulgence,  was  to 

1  "  iyepriKa  vo-fi<r€a>s." — Plat.  Rep.  Bk.  iv.     2  iurddeia,  arapafja. 
*  67rt(TT77/ii7  and  5<f|a,  s    often  opposed  in  Plato  and  Aristotle. 

4  Sext.  Emp.  Pyrrh.  Hyp.  i.  234.  ('ApxeatKaos)  Kara  fx\v  rb  ncpoxeipo* 
rvppwveios  i(palv€To  elvai  Kara  8e  r)]v  aKrjdciav  SoyfiariKbs  $*•  So  Bacon  1 
Academia  nova  Acatalepsiam  dogmatizavit. 

5  That  is,  aU  practically  considered  indifference  or  insensibility  to  be  thf 
thing  best  worth  striving  after. 


136  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

be  false  to  one's  convictions ;  to  embrace  Epicurus'i  system  with- 
out making  it  subservient  to  enjoyment,  was  equally  foreign  tc 
a  consistent  character.  In  Athens  the  daily  life  of  an  Epicurean 
and  a  Stoic  would  not  present  any  marked  difference ;  in  discussion 
they  would  be  widely  divergent,  but  the  contrast  ended  there.  In 
Home,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  the  mode  of  life  which  made  the  chief 
distinction.  Men  who  laboured  for  the  state  as  jurists  or  senators, 
wLo  were  grave  and  studious,  generally,  if  not  always,  adopted 
the  tenets  of  Zeno ;  if  they  were  orators,  they  naturally  turned 
rather  to  the  Academy,  which  offered  that  balancing  of  opinions 
so  congenial  to  the  tone  of  mind  of  an  advocate.  Among  public  men 
of  the  highest  character,  very  few  espoused  Epicurus's  doctrines. 

The  mere  assertion  that  pleasure  was  the  sumrnum  bonum  for 
man  was  so  repugnant  to  the  old  Roman  views  that  it  could 
hardly  have  been  made  the  basis  of  a  self-sacrificing  political 
activity.  Accordingly  we  find  in  the  period  before  Cicero  only 
men  of  the  second  rank  representing  epicurean  views.  Amafinius 
is  stated  to  have  been  the  first  who  popularised  them.1  He  wrote 
6ome  years  before  Cicero,  and  from  his  lucid  and  simple  treatment 
immediately  obtained  a  wide  circulation  for  his  books.  The  multi- 
tude (says  Cicero),  hurried  to  adopt  his  precepts,2  finding  them 
easy  to  understand,  and  in  harmony  with  their  own  inclinations. 
The  second  writer  of  mark  seems  to  have  been  Rabirius.  He  also 
wrote  on  the  physical  theory  of  Epicurus  in  a  superficial  way.  He 
neither  divided  his  subject  methodically,  nor  attempted  exact 
definitions,  and  all  his  arguments  were  drawn  from  the  world  of 
visible  things.  In  fact,  his  system  seems  to  have  been  a  crude 
and  ordinary  materialism,  such  as  the  vulgar  are  in  all  ages  prone 
to,  and  beyond  which  their  minds  cannot  go.  The  refined 
Catulus  was  also  an  adherent  of  epicureanism,  though  he  also 
attached  himself  to  the  Academy.  Among  Greeks  resident  at 
Rome  the  best  known  teachers  were  Phaedrus  and  Zeno  ;  a  book 
by  the  former  on  the  gods  was  largely  used  by  Citero  in  the  first 
book  of  his  De  Natura  Deorum.  A  little  later  Philodemus  of 
Gadara,  parts  of  whose  writings  are  still  extant,  seems  to  have 
risen  to  the  first  place.  In  the  time  of  Cicero  this  system  obtained 
more  disciples  among  the  foremost  men.  Both  statesmen  and 
poets  cultivated  it,  and  gained  it  a  legitimate  place  among  the 
genuine  philosophical  creeds.3 

1  Cic.  Tusc.  iv.  3. 

*  Contrast  the  indifference  of  the  vulgar  for  the  tougher  parts  of  the 
svstem.  Lucr.  "  Haec  ratio  Durior  esse  videtur . . .  retroque  volgus  abhorret 
»b  hac." 

*  See  a  fuller  account  of  this  system  under  Lucretius. 


RELATION  OF  PHILOSOPHY  TO  RELIGION.  137 

Stoicism  was  far  more  congenial  to  the  national  character,  and 
many  great  men  professed  it.     Besides  Laelius,  who  was  a  disciple 
of  Diodes  and  Panaetius,  we  have  the  names  of  Kutilius  Rufus, 
Aelius  Stilo,  Balbus,  and  Scaevola.     But  during  the  tumultuous 
activity  of  these  years  it  was  not  possible  for  men  to  cultivate 
philosophy  with  deep  appreciation.     Political  struggles  occupied 
their  minds,  and  it  was  in  their  moments  of  relaxation  only  that 
the  questions  agitated  by  stoicism  would  be  discussed.     We  must 
remember  that  as   yet  stoicism  was  one  of   several   competing 
systems.      Peripateticism  and  the  Academy,  as  has  been  said, 
attracted  the  more  sceptical  or  argumentative  minds,  for  their  dia- 
lectics were  far  superior  to  those  of  stoicism ;  it  was  in  its  moral 
grandeur  that  stoicism  towered  not  only  above  these  but  above 
all  other  systems  that  have  been  invented,  and  the  time  for  the 
full  recognition  of  this  moral  grandeur  had  not  yet  come.     At 
present  men  were  occupied  in  discussing  its  logical  quibbles  and 
paradoxes,  and  in  balancing  its  claims  to  cogency  against  those 
of  its  rivals.      It  was  not  until  the  significance  of  its  central 
doctrine  was  tried  to  the  uttermost  by  the  dark  tyranny  of  the 
Empire,  that  stoicism  stood  erect  and  alone  as  the  sole  represen- 
tative of  all  that  was  good  and  great.     Still,  the  fact  that  its  chief 
professors  were  men   of   weight  in  the  state,  lent   it  a  certain 
authority,  and  Cicero,  among  the  few  definite  doctrines  that  he 
accepts,  numbers  that  of   stoicism   that  virtue  is   sufficient    for 
happiness. 

We  shall  close  this  chapter  with  one  or  two  remarks  on  the 
relation  of  philosophy  to  the  state  religion.  It  must  be  observed 
that  the  formal  and  unpliable  nature  of  the  Roman  cult  made  it 
quite  unable  to  meet  the  requirements  of  advancing  enlighten- 
ment. It  was  a  superstition,  not  a  religion ;  it  admitted  neither 
of  allegoric  interpretation  nor  of  poetical  idealisation.  Hence  there 
was  no  alternative  but  to  believe  or  disbelieve  it.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  all  educated  Romans  did  the  latter.  The  whole 
machinery  of  ritual  and  ceremonies  was  used  for  purely  political 
ends ;  it  was  no  great  step  to  regard  it  as  having  a  purely  political 
basis.  To  men  with  so  slight  a  hold  as  this  on  the  popular  creed, 
the  religion  and  philosophy  of  Greece  were  suddenly  revealed. 
It  was  a  spiritual  no  less  than  an  intellectual  revolution.  Their 
views  on  the  question  of  the  unseen  were  profoundly  change!. 
The  simple  but  manly  piety  of  the  family  religion,  the  regular 
ceremonial  of  the  state,  were  confronted  with  the  splendid  hier- 
archy of  the  Greek  Pantheon  and  the  subtle  questionings  of  Greek 
intellect.  It  is  no  wonder  that  Roman  conviction  was,  so  tc 
Bpeak,  taken  by  storm.     The  popular  faith  received  a  shock  froir 


138  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

which  it  never  rallied.  Augustus  and  others  restored  the  ancient 
ritual,  but  no  edict  could  restore  the  lost  belief.  So  deep  had 
the  poison  penetrated  that  no  sound  place  was  left.  "With  super- 
stition they  cast  off  all  religion.  For  poetical  or  imaginative 
purposes  the  Greek  deities  under  their  Latin  dress  might  suffice, 
but  for  a  guide  of  life  they  were  utterly  powerless.  The  nobler 
minds  therefore  naturally  turned  to  philosophy,  and  here  they 
found,  if  not  certainty,  a  least  a  reasonable  explanation  of  the 
problems  they  encountered.  Is  the  world  governed  by  law  1  If 
so,  is  that  law  a  moral  one  1  If  not,  is  the  ruler  chance  %  What 
is  the  origin  of  the  gods  1  of  man  1  of  the  soul  ]  Questions  like 
these  could  neither  be  resolved  by  the  Eoman  nor  by  the  Helleno- 
Eoman  systems  of  religion,  but  they  were  met  and  in  a  way 
answered  by  Greek  philosophy.  Hence  it  became  usual  for  every 
thinking  Eoman  to  attach  himself  to  the  tenets  of  some  sect, 
which  ever  best  suited  his  own  comprehension  or  prejudices.  But 
tins  adhesion  did  not  involve  a  rigid  or  exclusive  devotion.  Many 
were  Eclectics,  that  is,  adopted  from  various  systems  such  elements 
as  seemed  to  them  most  reasonable.  For  instance,  Cicero  was  a 
Stoic  more  than  anything  else  in  his  ethical  theory,  a  New  Acade- 
mician in  his  logic,  and  in  other  respects  a  Platonist.  But  even 
he  varied  greatly  at  different  times.  There  was,  however,  no 
combination  among  professors  of  the  same  sect  with  a  view  to 
practical  work  or  dissemination  of  doctrines.  Had  such  been 
attempted,  it  would  at  once  have  been  put  down  by  the  state. 
But  it  never  was.  Philosophical  beliefs  of  whatever  kind  did 
not  in  the  least  interfere  with  conformity  to  the  state  religion. 
One  Scaevola  was  Pontifex  Maximus,  another  was  Augur ;  Cicero 
himself  was  Augur,  so  was  Caesar.  The  two  things  were  kept 
quite  distinct.  Philosophy  did  not  influence  political  action  in 
any  way.  It  was  simply  a  refuge  for  the  mind,  such  as  all 
thinking  men  must  have,  and  which  if  not  supplied  by  a  true 
creed,  will  inevitably  be  sought  in  a  false  or  imperfect  one.  And 
the  noble  doctrines  professed  by  the  great  Greek  schools  were 
certainly  far  more  worthy  of  the  adhesion  of  such  men  as  Scaevola 
and  Laelius,  than  the  worn-out  cult  which  the  popular  ceremonial 
embodied. 


BOOK  IT. 

THE   GOLDEN  AGE. 

VBQM  THE  CONSULSHIP  OF  CICERO  TO  THE  DEATH  OS 

AUGUSTUS  (63  B.c-14  A.B.). 


BOOK   II. 


PART  L 

THE    REPUBLICAN    PERIOD. 

CHAPTEft  I 

Vakiio. 

Thb  period  embraced  by  the  present  book  contain?  the  culmina- 
tion of  all  kinds  of  literature,  the  drama  alone  excepted.  It  falls 
naturally  into  two  divisions,  each  marked  by  special  and  clearly- 
defined  characteristics.  The  first  begins  with  the  recognition  oi 
Cicero  as  the  chief  man  of  letters  at  Eome,  and  ends  with  the 
battle  of  Philippi,  a  year  after  his  death.  It  extends  over  a 
period  of  two  and  twenty  years  (about  63-42  B.C.),  though  many 
of  Cicero's  orations  are  anterior,  and  some  of  Varro's  works  pos- 
terior, to  the  extreme  dates.  In  this  period  Latin  prose  writing 
attained  its  perfection.  The  storms  which  shook  and  finally 
overthrew  the  Eepublic  turned  the  attention  of  all  minds  to 
political  questions.  Oratory  and  history  were  the  prevailing 
forms  of  intellectual  activity.  It  was  not  until  the  close  of  the 
period  that  philosophy  was  treated  by  Cicero  during  his  com- 
pulsory absence  from  public  life ;  and  poetry  rose  once  more  into 
prominence  in  the  works  of  Lucretius  and  Catullus.  The  chief 
characteristics  of  the  literature  of  this  period  are  freedom  and 
vigour.  In  every  author  the  bold  spirit  of  the  .Republic  breathes 
forth ;  and  in  the  greatest  is  happily  combined  with  an  extensive 
and  elegant  scholarship,  equally  removed  from  pedantry  and 
dullness. 

The  second  division  (42  B.0  -14  A.D.)  begins  shortly  after  the 
battle  of  Philippi,  with  the  earliest  poems  of  Varius  and  Virgil,  and 
closes  with  the  death  of  Augustus.     It  is  pre-eminently  an  era  of 


142  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

poets.  Livy  alone  being  a  prose  writer  of  the  first  rank,  and  is 
marked  by  all  the  characteristics  of  an  imperial  age.  The 
transition  from  the  last  poems  of  Catullus  to  the  first  of  Virgil  ir 
complete.  Nevertheless,  many  republican  authors  lived  on  into 
this  period,  as  Varro,  Pollio,  and  Bibaculus.  But  their  character 
and  genius  belong  to  the  Eepublic,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
Pollio,  they  will  be  noticed  under  the  republican  writers.  The 
entire  period  represents  the  full  maturity  and  perfection  of  the 
Latin  language,  and  the  epithet  classical  is  by  many  restricted  to 
the  authors  who  wrote  in  it.  It  is  best,  however,  not  to  narrow 
unnecessarily  the  sphere  of  classicality ;  to  exclude  Terence  on  the 
one  hand  or  Tacitus  and  Pliny  on  the  other,  would  savour  oi 
artificial  restriction  rather  than  that  of  a  natural  classification. 

The  first  writer  that  comes  before  us  is  M.  Terentius  Varro, 
116-28  B.o.  He  is  at  once  the  earliest  and  the  latest  of  the  series. 
His  birth  took  place  ten  years  before  that  of  Cicero,  and  his  death 
fifteen  years  after  Cicero's  murder,  in  the  third  year  of  the  reign 
of  Augustus.  His  long  life  was  devoted  almost  entirely  to  study, 
and  he  became  known  even  in  his  lifetime  as  the  most  learned  of 
the  Eomans.  This  did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from  offering 
his  services  to  the  state  when  the  state  required  them.  He 
3erved  more  than  once  under  Pompey,  acquitting  himself  with 
distinction,  so  that  in  the  civil  war  the  important  post  of  legatus 
was  intrusted  to  him  in  company  with  Petreius  and  Afranius  in 
ftpain.  But  Varro  felt  from  the  first  his  inability  to  cope  with 
his  adversary.  Caesar  speaks  of  him  as  acting  coolly  in  Pompey's 
interest  until  the  successes  of  Afranius  at  Herda  roused  him  to 
more  vigorous  measures ;  but  the  triumph  of  the  Pompeians  was 
shortlived ;  and  when  Caesar  convened  the  delegates  at  Corduba, 
Varro  found  himself  shut  out  from  all  the  fortified  towns,  and  in 
danger  of  being  deserted  by  his  army.1  He  therefore  surrendered 
at  discretion,  returned  to  Italy,  and  took  no  more  part  in  public 
affairs.  We  hear  of  him  occasionally  in  Cicero's  letters  as  studying  in 
his  country  seats  at  Tusculum,  Cumae,  or  Casinum,  indifferent  to 
politics,  and  preparing  those  great  works  of  antiquarian  research 
which  have  immortalised  his  name.  Caesar's  victorious  return 
brought  him  out  of  his  retreat.  He  was  placed  over  the  library 
which  Caesar  built  for  public  use,  an  appointment  equally  com- 
plimentary to  Varro  and  honourable  to  Caesar.  Antony,  how- 
ever, incapable  of  the  generosity  of  his  chief,  placed  Varro's  name 
on  the  list  of  the  proscribed,  at  a  time  when  the  old  man  was  over 

1  Caes.  B.  C.  ii.  1 6-20.  From  i.  36,  we  learn  that  all  further  Spain  had 
been  intrusted  to  him.  Varro  was  in  truth  no  partisan ;  so  long  as  he  be- 
lieved Pompey  to  represent  the  state,  he  was  willing  to  act  for  hun. 


VARKO'S  LIFE.  143 

seventy  years  of  age,  and  had  long  ceased  to  have  any  weight  in 
politics.  Nothing  more  clearly  shows  the  abominable  motives 
that  swayed  the  triumvirs  than  this  attempt  to  murder  an  aged 
and  peaceful  citizen  for  the  sake  of  possessing  his  wealth.  For 
Yarro  had  the  good  or  had  fortune  to  he  extremely  rich.  His 
.Casine  villa,  alluded  to  hy  Cicero,  and  partly  described  hy  him- 
fself,  was  sumptuously  decorated,  and  his  other  estates  were  large 
and  productive.  The  Casine  villa  was  made  the  scene  of  Antony's 
revelry ;  he  and  his  fellow-rioters  plundered  the  rooms,  emptied 
the  cellar,  "burned  the  library,  and  carried  on  every  kind  of 
debauchery  and  excess.  Few  passages  in  all  eloquence  are  more 
telling  than  that  in  which  Cicero  with  terrible  power  contrasts  the 
conduct  of  the  two  successive  occupants.1  Yarro,  through  the 
zeal  of  his  friends,  managed  to  escape  Antony's  fury,  and  for  a 
time  lay  concealed  in  the  villa  of  Calenus,  at  which  Antony  was  a 
frequent  visitor,  little  suspecting  that  his  enemy  was  within  his 
grasp.  An  edict  was  soon  issued,  however,  exempting  the  old 
man  from  the  effect  of  the  proscription,  so  that  he  was  enahled  to 
live  in  peace  at  Rome  until  his  death.  But  deprived  of  his  wealth 
(which  Augustus  afterwards  restored),  deprived  of  his  friends, 
and  above  all,  deprived  of  his  library,  he  must  have  felt  a  deep 
shadow  cast  over  his  declining  years.  Nevertheless,  he  remained 
cheerful,  and  to  all  appearance  contented,  and  charmed  those  who 
knew  him  by  the  vigour  of  his  conversation  and  his  varied  anti- 
quarian lore.  He  is  never  mentioned  hy  any  of  the  Augustan 
writers. 

Yarro  "belongs  to  the  genuine  type  of  old  Eoman,  improved  hut 
not  altered  hy  Greek  learning,  with  his  heart  fixed  in  the  past, 
deeply  conservative  of  everything  national,  and  even  in  his  style 
of  speech  protesting  against  the  innovations  of  the  day.  If  we 
reflect  that  when  Yarro  wrote  his  treatise  on  husbandry,  Yirgil 
was  at  work  on  the  Georgi.es,  and  then  compare  the  diction  of  the 
two,  it  seems  almost  incredible  that  they  should  have  been  con- 
temporaries. In  all  literature  there  is  probably  no  such  instance  of 
rock-like  impenetrability  to  fashion;  for  him  Alexandria  might 
never  have  existed.  He  recalls  the  age  of  Cato  rather  than  that 
of  Cicero.  His  versatility  was  as  great  as  his  industry.  There 
was  scarcely  any  department  of  prose  or  poetry,  provided  it  was 
national,  in  which  he  did  not  excel.  His  early  life  well  fitted 
him  for  severe  application.  Born  at  Beate,  in  the  Sabine  ter- 
ritory, which  was  the  nurse  of  all  manly  virtues,2  Yarro,  as  he 

1  Phil.  ii.  40,  41. 

s  Cf.  Hor.  Ep.  2,  43,   "Sabina  qualis  aut  perusta  solibus  Pernicis  uxoi 
Appuli." 


1  4:4  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

himself  tells  us,  had  to  rough  it  as  a  boy ;  he  went  barefoot,  ovei 
the  mountain  side,  rode  without  saddle  or  bridle,  and  wore  but  a 
single  tunic.1  Bold,  frank,  and  sarcastic,  he  had  all  the  qualities 
of  the  old-fashioned  country  gentleman.  At  Borne  he  became 
intimate  with  Aelius  Stilo,  whose  opinion  of  his  pupil  is  shown  by 
the  inscription  of  his  grammatical  treatise  to  him.  Stilo's  mantle 
descended  on  Varro,  but  with  sevenfold  virtue.  Not  only  gram- 
mar, by  winch  term  we  must  understand  philology  and  etymc  logy 
as  well  as  syntax,  but  antiquities  secular  and  religious,  and  almost  aii 
the  liberal  arts,  were  passed  under  review  by  his  encyclopaedic  n  md. 
At  the  same  time  lighter  themes  had  strong  attraction  for  Inm. 
He  possessed  in  a  high  degree  that  racy  and  caustic  wit  which  w^ 
a  special  Italian  product,  and  had  been  conspicuous  in  Cato  ana 
Lucilius.  But  while  Cato  studied  to  be  oracular,  and  Lucilius  to 
be  critical,  Varro  seems  to  have  indulged  his  vein  without  any 
special  object.  Though  by  no  means  a  born  poet,  he  had  the 
faculty  of  writing  terse  and  elegant  verse  when  he  chose,  and  in 
his  younger  days  composed  a  long  list  of  metrical  works.  There 
were  among  them  Pseudotragoediae,  which  Teuffel  thinks  were  the 
same  as  the  Hilarotragoediae,  or  Bhinthonicae,  so  called  from  their 
inventor  Rhinthon;  though  others  class  them  with  the  KwwwSo- 
TpaywSiai,  of  which  Plautus's  Amphitruo  is  the  best  known  instance 
However  this  may  be,  they  ^ere  mock-heroic  compositions  in 
which  the  subjects  consecrated  by  tragic  usage  were  travestied  or 
burlesqued.  It  is  probable  that  they  were  mere  literary  exercises 
designed  to  beguile  leisure  or  to  facilitate  the  labour  of  composition, 
like  the  closet  tragedies  composed  by  Cicero  and  his  brother 
Quintus;  and  Varro  certainly  owed  none  of  his  fame  to  them. 
Other  poems  of  his  are  referred  to  by  Cicero,  and  perhaps  by  Quin- 
tilian;2  but  in  the  absence  of  definite  allusions  we  can  hardly 
characterize  them.  There  was  one  class  of  semi-poetical  composi- 
tion which  Varro  made  peculiarly  his  own,  the  Satura  Menippea, 
a  medley  of  prose  and  verse,  treating  of  all  kinds  of  subjects  just 
as  they  came  to  hand  in  the  plebeian  style,  often  with  much  gross- 
ncss,  but  with  sparkling  point.  Of  these  Saturae  he  wrote  no  less 
than  150  books,  of  which  fragments  have  been  preserved  amount- 
ing to  near  600  lines.  Menippus  of  Gadara,  the  originator  of  this 
style  of  composition,  lived  about  280  b.c.  ;  he  interspersed  jocular 
and  commonplace  topics  with  moral  maxims  and  philosophical 
doctrines,  and  may  have  added  contemporary  pictures,  though  thi? 
is  uncertain. 

1  Fr.  of  Catus.     Cf.  Juvenal,   "  Usque  adeo  nihil  est  quod  nostra  infaDtif 
caelum  Hausit  Aventinum,  baca  nutrita  Sabina  ?' 

2  i.  4.  4. 


MENIPPKAN  SATIRES  L4S 

Varro  followed  him;  we  find  him  in  the  Academicae  Quaestione* 
of  Cicero,1  saying  that  he  adopted  this  method  in  the  hope  oi 
enticing  the  unlearned  to  read  something  that  might  profit  them. 
In  these  saturae  topics  were  handled  with  the  greatest  freedom. 
They  were  not  satires  in  the  modern  sense.  They  are  rather  lo  be 
considered  as  lineal  descendants  of  the  old  saturae  which  existed 
before  any  regular  literature.  They  nevertheless  embodied  with 
unmistakable  clearness  Varro's  sentiments  with  regard  to  the  pre- 
vailing luxury,  and  combined  his  thorough  knowledge  of  all  that 
best  befitted  a  Eoman  to  know  with  a  racv  freshness  which  we 
miss  in  his  later  works.  The  titles  of  many  are  preserved,  and 
give  some  index  to  the  character  of  the  contents.  We  have  s  )me 
in  Greek,  e.g.  Marco7roAis  or  Trepl  ap^s,  a  sort  of  Varro'e  Republic, 
after  the  manner  of  Plato;  "iTnroKiW,  KwopprJTop,  and  others, 
satirizing  the  cynic  philosophy.  Some  both  in  Greek  and  Latin, 
as  Columnae  Hcrculis,  irepl  Sd^s;  est  modus  mat/dae,  7repi  pePty?; 
others  in  Latin  only,  as  Mardpor  the  slave  of  Marcus  (i.t.  Varro 
himself).  Many  are  in  the  shape  of  proverbs,  e.g.  Longe  fugit  qui 
suos  fugit,  yvloOi  <t€olvt6v,  nescis  quid  vesper  serus  vehat.  Only  two 
fragments  are  of  any  length;  one  from  the  Mardpor,  in  graceful 
iambic  verse,2  the  other  in  prose  from  the  nescis  quid  vesper.3  It 
consists  of  directions  for  a  convivial  meeting  :  "  Nam  multos  con- 
vivas  esse  non  convenit,  quod  turba  plerumque  est  turbidenta  ;  et 
Romae  quidem  constat :  sed  et  Athenis;  nusquam  enim  plures 
cubabant.4  Ipsum  deinde  convivium  constat  ex  rebus  quatuor,  et 
turn  denique  omnibus  suis  numeris  absolutum  est;  si  belli  homun- 
culi  collecti  sunt,  si  lectus  locus,  si  tempus  lectum,  si  apparatus 
non  neglectus.  Nee  loquaces  autem  convivas  nee  mutos  legere 
oportet;  quia  eloquentia  in  foro  et  apud  subsellia;  silentium  vero 
non  in  convivio  sed  in  cubiculo  esse  debet.  Quod  profecto  eveniet. 
si  de  id  genus  rebus  ad  communem  vitae  usum  pertinentibus  con- 
fabulemur,  de  quibus  in  foro  atque  in  negotiis  agendis  loqui  non  est 
otium.  Dominum  autem  convivii  esse  oportet  non  tarn  lautum 
quam  sine  sordibus.  Et  in  convivio  legi  non  omnia  rlr,bent,  sed  ea 
potissimum  quae  simul  sunt  /Siw^eA?},5  et  delectent  potius,  ut  id 
quoque  videatur  non  superfuisse.  Bellaria  ea  maxime  sunt  mellita, 
quae  mellita  non  sunt,  Tre/jtfiaaiv  enim  et  ncif/ei  societas  infida." 
In  this  piece  we  see  the  fondness  for  pimning,  which  even  hi  his 
eightieth  year  had  not  left  him.     The  last  pun  is  not  at  first 

A  Ac.  Post.  i.  2,  8.     He  there  speaks  of  them  as  vetera  nostra. 

*  Given  in  Appendix,  note  i.  3  Given  in  Aulas  Gellius,  xiii.  xi.  1. 

4  v.  i.,  et  Romae  quidem  stat,  sedet  Athenis,  nusquam  autem  cuhat. 

6  We  take  occasion  to  observe  the  frequent  insertion  of  Greek  words,  as  in 
Lncilius  and  in  Cicero's  letters.  These  all  recall  the  tone  of  high-tred  con 
rersation,  in  which  Greek  terms  were  continually  employed. 

K 


146  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

obvious;  the  meaning  is  that  the  nicest  sweetmeats  are  thost 
which  are  not  too  sweet,  for  made  dishes  are  hostile  to  digestion; 
or,  as  we  may  say,  paraphrasing  his  diction,  "  Delicacies  are  con- 
ducive to  delicacy."  It  was  from  this  satura  the  celebrated  rule 
was  taken  that  guests  should  be  neither  fewer  than  the  graces,  nor 
more  than  the  muses.  The  whole  subject  of  the  Menippean 
satires  is  brilliantly  treated  in  Mommsen's  History  of  Rome,  and 
Eiese's  edition  of  the  satires,  to  both  which,  if  he  desire  further 
information,  we  refer  the  reader.1 

The  genius  of  Varro,  however,  more  and  more  inclined  him  to 
prose.  The  next  series  of  works  that  issued  from  his  pen  were 
probably  those  known  as  Logistorici  (about  56-50  b.c).  The 
model  for  these  was  furnished  by  Heraclides  Ponticus,  a  friend 
and  pupil  of  Plato,  and  after  his  death,  of  Aristotle.  He  was  a 
voluminous  and  encyclopaedic  writer,  but  too  indolent  to  apply  the 
vigorous  method  of  his  master.  Hence  his  works,  being  discursive 
and  easily  understood,  were  well  fitted  for  the  comprehension  of  the 
Eomans.  Varro's  histories  were  short,  mostly  taken  from  his  own 
or  his  friends'  experience,  and  centred  round  some  principle  of 
ethics  or  economics.  Gatus  de  liberis  educandis,  Marlus  de  For- 
tuna,  &c.  are  titles  which  remind  us  of  Cicero's  Laelius  de  Ami- 
c'dia  and  Cato  Major  de  Senectute,  of  which  it  is  extremely 
probable  they  were  the  suggesting  causes. 

Yarro  in  his  saturae  is  very  severe  upon  philosophers.  He  had 
almost  as  great  a  contempt  for  them  as  his  archetype  Cato.  And 
yet  Varro  was  deeply  read  in  the  philosophy  of  Greece.  He  did 
not  yield  to  Cicero  in  admiration  of  her  illustrious  thinkers.  It 
is  probable  that  with  his  keen  appreciation  of  the  Eoman  character 
he  saw  that  it  was  unfitted  for  speculative  thought;  that  in  most 
cases  its  cultivation  would  only  bring  forth  pedants  or  hypocrites. 
When  asked  by  Cicero  why  he  had  not  written  a  great  philosophical 
work,  ho  replied  that  those  who  had  a  real  interest  in  the  study 
would  go  direct  to  the  fountain  head,  those  who  had  not  would  be 
none  the  better  for  reading  a  Latin  compendium.  Hence  he  pre- 
ferred to  turn  his  labours  into  a  more  productive  channel,  and  to 
instruct  the  people  in  their  own  antiquities,  which  had  never  been 
adequately  studied,  and,  now  that  Stilo  was  dead,  seemed  likely  to 
pass  into  oblivion.2  His  researches  occupied  three  main  fields, 
that  of  law  and  religion,  that  of  civil  history  and  biography,  and 
that  of  philology. 

Of  these  the  first  was  the  one  for  which  he  was  most  highly 
qualified,  and  in  which  he   gained   his  highest  renown.      Hi* 

1  Mommsen,  vol.  iv.  pt.  2,  p.  594 ;  Riese,  Men.  Satur.  Reliquiae,  Lips.  186& 
*  See  the  interesting  discussion  in  Cicero,  Acad.  Post.  I. 


TREATISE  ON  DIVINE  AND  HUMAN  ANTIQUITIES.  1-47 

crowning  work  in  this  department  was  the  Antiquities  Divine  and 
Human,  in  41  books.1  This  was  the  greatest  monument  of  Roman 
learning,  the  reference  book  for  all  subsequent  writers.  It  ia 
quoted  continually  by  Pliny,  Gellius,  and  Priscian ;  and,  what  is 
more  interesting  to  us,  by  St  Augustine  in  the  fifth  and  seventh 
books  of  his  Civitas  Dei,  as  the  one  authoritative  work  on  the  subject 
of  the  national  religion.2  He  thus  describes  the  plan  of  the  work. 
It  consisted  of  41  books;  25  of  human  antiquities,  16  of  divine. 
In  the  human  part,  6  books  were  given  to  each  of  the  four  divi- 
sions ;  viz.  of  Agents,  of  Places,  of  Times,  of  Things.3  To  these 
24  one  prefatory  chapter  was  prefixed  of  a  general  character,  thus 
completing  the  number.  In  the  divine  part  a  similar  method  was 
followed.  Three  books  were  allotted  to  each  of  the  five  divisions 
of  the  subject,  viz.  the  Men  who  sacrifice,  the  Places;  and  Times 
of  worship,4  the  Rites  performed,  and  finally  the  Lnvine  Beings 
themselves.  To  these  was  prefixed  a  book  treating  the  subject 
comprehensively,  and  of  a  prefatory  nature.  The  nve  triads  were 
thus  subdivided  :  the  first  into  a  book  on  Pontijices,  one  on 
Augurs,  one  on  Quindenmviri  Sacro7'um ;  the  second  into  books 
on  shrines,  temples,  and  sacred  spots,  respectively  ;  the  third  into 
those  on  festivals  and  holidays,  the  games  of  the  circus,  and 
theatrical  spectacles  j  the  fourth  treats  of  consecrations,  private 
rites,  and  public  sacrifices,  while  the  fifth  has  one  treatise  on  gods 
that  certainly  exist,  one  on  gods  that  are  doubtful,  and  one  on  the 
chief  and  select  deities. 

We  have  given  the  particulars  of  this  division  to  show  the 
almost  pedantic  love  of  system  that  Varro  indulged.  Nearly  all 
his  books  were  parcelled  out  on  a  similar  methodical  plan.  Ho 
had  no  idea  of  following  the  natural  divisions  of  a  subject,  but 
always  imposed  on  his  subject  artificial  categories  drawn  from  his 
own  prepossessions.5  The  remark  has  been  made  that  of  all 
Romans  Varro  was  the  most  unphilosophical.  Certainly  if  a  true 
classification  be  the  basis  of  a  truly  scientific  treatment,  Varro 
can  lay  no  claim  to  it.  His  erudition,  though  profound,  is 
cumbrous.     He  never  seems  to  move  easily  in  it     His  illustra- 

1  Antiquitates  rcrum  humanarum  et  divinarum. 

2  He  also  quotes  the  Aeneid  as  a  source  of  religious  ideas.  Civ.  D.  y, 
18,  19,  et  al. 

3  C.  D.  vi.  3,  qui  agant,  ubi  agant,  quail  do  agant,  quid  agant. 

4  Qui  exhibeant  (sacra),  ubi  exhibeant,  quando  exliibeant,  quid  exliibeant 
quibus  exhibeant. 

5  Plato  says,  'ZwoirriKhs  6  SmXe/cTi/cbs ;  the  true  philosopher  can  embrace  the 
whole  of  his  subject ;  at  the  same  time,  Tefivei  icar  &pdpa  ;  he  carves  it  accord, 
ing  to  the  joints,  not  according  to  his  notions  where  the  joints  should  be 
(Phaedr.)     But  the  llomans  only  understood  Plato's  popular  sids. 


148  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tions  are  far-fetched,  often  inopportune.  What,  for  instance,  can 
be  more  out  of  place  than  to  bring  to  a  close  a  discussion  on 
farming  by  the*  sudden  announcement  of  a  hideous  murder  % 1  His 
style  is  as  uncouth  as  his  arrangement  is  .mnatural.  It  abounds 
in  constructions  which  cannot  be  justified  by  strict  rules  of  syntax, 
e.g.  "hi  qui  pueros  in  ludum  mittunt,  idem  barbatos  .  .  .  non 
docebimus  V2  "  When  we  send  our  children  to  school  to  learn 
to  speak  correctly,  shall  we  not  also  correct  bearded  men,  when 
they  make  mistakes?"  Slipshod  constructions  like  this  occur 
throughout  the  treatise  on  the  Latin  tongue,  though,  it  is  true, 
they  are  almost  entirely  absent  from  that  on  husbandry,  which  is 
a  much  more  finished  work.  Obscurity  in  explaining  what  the 
author  means,  or  in  describing  what  he  has  seen,  is  so  frequent  an 
accompaniment  of  vast  erudition  that  it  need  excite  little  surprise. 
And  yet  how  different  it  is  from  the  matchless  clearness  of  Cicero 
or  Caesar  !  In  the  treatise  on  husbandry,  Yarro  is  at  great  pains 
to  describe  a  magnificent  aviary  in  his  villa  at  Casinum,  but  his 
auditors  must  have  been  clear-headed  indeed  if  they  could  follow 
his  description.3  And  in  the  De  Lingua  Latina,  wishing  to  show 
how  the  elephant  was  called  Luca  bos  from  having  been  first  seen 
in  Lucania  with  the  armies  of  Pyrrhus,  and  from  the  ox  being 
the  largest  quadruped  with  which  the  Italians  were  then  acquainted, 
he  gives  us  the  following  involved  note — In  Virgilii  commentario 
erat :  Ab  Lucanis  Lucas  ;  ab  eo  quod  nostri,  quom  m.aximam  qua- 
drupcdem,  quam  ipsi  haberent,  vocarent  bovem,  et  in  Lucanis  Pyrrhi 
bello  primum  vi dissent  apud  hostes  elephantos,  Lucanum  bovem 
quod  putabant  iAicam  bovem  appellassent. 

In  fact  Varro  was  no  stylist.  He  was  a  master  of  facts,  as 
Cicero  of  words.  Studiosum  rerum,  says  Augustine,  tantum  docet, 
quantum  studiosum  verborum  Cicero  delectat.  Hence  Cicero,  with 
all  his  proneness  to  exaggerate  the  excellences  of  his  friends, 
never  speaks  of  him  as  eloquent.  He  calls  him  omnium  facile 
acidissimus,  et  sine  ulla  dubitatione  doctissimus.^  The  qualities 
that  shone  out  conspicuously  in  his  works  were,  besides  learning, 
a  genial  though  somewhat  caustic  humour,  and  a  thorough  contempt 
for  effeminacy  of  all  kinds.  The  fop,  the  epicure,  the  warbling 
pool;  who  gargled  Ms  throat  before  murmuring  his  recondite  ditty, 
the  purist,  and  above  all  the  mock-philosopher  with  his  nostrum 
for  purifying  the  wrorld,  these  are  all  caricatured  by  Varro  in  his 
pithy,  good-humoured  way ;  the  spirit  of  the  Menippean  satires 
remained,  though  the  form  was  changed  to  one  more  befitting  the 

1  See  the  end  of  the  Res  Rust.  Bk.  i. 

■  L.  L.  ix.  15  ;  cf.  vi.  82,  x.  16,  v.  88.  *  R.  R.  iii  5. 

*  Acad,  Tost.  i.  3. 


TREATISE  ON  DIVINE  AND  HUMAN  ANTIQUITIES.         149 

grave  old  teacher  of  wisdom.  The  fragments  of  his  works  as  well 
as  the  notices  of  his  friends  present  him  to  us  the  ybtj  picture  ol 
a  healthy-minded  and  healthy-bodied  man. 

To  return  to  the  consideration  of  his  treatise  on  Antiquities, 
trom  which  we  have  digressed.  The  great  interest  of  the  subject 
will  be  our  excuse  for  dwelling  longer  upon  it.  There  is  no  Latin 
book  the  recovery  of  which  the  present  century  would  hail  with 
so  much  pleasure  as  this.  When  antiquarianism  is  leading  to 
such  fruitful  results,  and  the  study  of  ancient  religion  is  so 
earnestly  pursued,  the  aid  of  Yarro's  research  would  be  invaluable. 
And  it  is  the  more  disappointing  to  lose  it,  since  we  have  reason 
for  believing  that  it  was  in  existence  during  the  lifetime  of 
Petrarch.  He  declares  that  he  saw  it  when  a  boy,  and  afterwards, 
when  he  knew  its  value,  tried  all  means,  but  without  success,  to 
obtain  it.  This  story  has  been  doubted,  chiefly  on  the  ground 
that  direct  quotations  from  the  work  are  not  made  after  the  sixth 
century.  But  this  by  itself  is  scarcely  a  sufficient  reason,  since 
the  Church  gathered  all  the  knowledge  of  it  she  required  from  the 
writings  of  St  Augustine.  From  him  we  learn  that  Varro  feared 
the  entire  collapse  of  the  old  faith ;  that  he  attributed  its  decline 
in  some  measure  to  the  outward  representations  of  divine  objects ; 
and,  observing  that  Borne  had  existed  170  years  without  any 
image  in  her  temples,  instanced  Judea  to  prove  "  eos  qui  primi 
simulacra  deorum  populis  posuerunt,  eos  civitatibus  suis  et  metum 
dempsisse,  et  errorem  addidisse.1  Other  fragments  of  deep  interest 
are  preserved  by  Augustine.  One,  showing  the  conception  of  the 
state  religion  as  a  purely  human  institution,  explains  why  human 
antiquities  are  placed  before  divine,  "  Si  cut  prior  est  pictor  quam 
tabula  picta,  prim*  faber  quam  aedificium  ;  ita  priores  sunt  civi- 
tates,  quam  ea  quae  a  civitatibus  instituta  sunt."  Another  de- 
scribes the  different  classes  of  theology,  according  to  a  division 
first  made  by  the  Pontifex  Scaevola,2  as  poetical,  philosophical, 
and  political,  or  as  mythical,  physical,  and  civil.3  Against  the  first 
of  these  Varro  fulminated  forth  all  the  shafts  of  his  satire  :  In  eo 
mult  a  sitnt  contra  dignitatem  et  naturam  immortalium.  flcta  .  .  . 
quae  non  modo  in  hominem,  sed  etiam  quae  in  contemptisdmum 
hominem  cadere  possunt.  About  the  second  he  did  not  say  much, 
except  guardedly  to  imply  that  it  was  not  fitted  for  a  populat 
ceremonial.  The  third,  which  it  was  his  strong  desire  to  keep 
alive,  as  it  was  afterwards  that  of  Virgil,  seemed  to  him  the  chief 
glory  of  Eome.  He  did  not  scruple  to  say  (and  Polybius  had 
said  it  before  him)  that  the  grandeur  of  the  Eepublic  was  duo  tc 

1  Civ.  Dei  iv.  31.  *  Cic.  De  Or.  i.  39  ;  N.  D.  ii.  2^ 

*  Civ.  Dei  vi.  5, 


150  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  piety  of  the  Republic.  It  was  reserved  for  the  philosopher  ol 
a  later  age1  to  asperse  with  bitter  ridicule  ceremonies  to  which  all 
before  him  had  conformed  while  they  disbelieved,  and  had  respected 
while  seeing  through  their  object. 

Varro  dedicated  his  work  to  Caesar,  who  was  then  Pontifex 
Maximus,  and  well  able  to  appreciate  ihe  chain  of  reasoning  it 
contained.  The  acute  mind  of  Varro  had  doubtless  seen  in  Caesar 
a  disposition  to  rehabilitate  the  fallen  ceremonial,  and  foreseeing 
his  supremacy  in  the  state,  had  laid  before  him  this  great  manual 
for  his  guidance.  Caesar  evinced  the  deepest  respect  for  Varro, 
and  must  have  carefully  studied  his  views.  At  least  it  can  be  no 
mere  coincidence  that  Augustus,  in  carrying  out  his  predecessor's 
plans  for  the  restoration  of  public  worship,  should  have  followed 
so  closely  on  the  lines  which  we  see  from  Augustine  Varro  struck 
out.  To  consider  Varro's  labours  as  undirected  to  any  practical 
object  would  be  to  misinterpret  them  altogether.  No  man  was 
less  of  the  mere  savant  or  the  mere  litterateur  than  he. 

Besides  this  larger  work  Varro  seems  to  have  written  smaller 
ones,  as  introductions  or  pendants  to  it.  Among  these  were  the 
Atrta,  or  rati  male  of  Roman  manners  and  customs,  and  a  work  de 
gente  populi  Romani,  the  most  noticeable  feature  of  which  was  its 
chronological  calculation,  which  fixed  the  building  of  Rome  to 
the  date  now  generally  received,  and  called  the  Varronian  Era 
(753  b.c).  It  contained  also  computations  and  theories  with 
regard  to  the  early  history  of  many  other  states  with  which  Rome 
came  in  contact,  e.g.  Athens,  Argos,  etc.,  and  is  referred  to  more 
than  once  by  St  Augustine.2  The  names  of  many  other  treatises 
on  this  subject  are  preserved  ;  and  this  is  not  surprising,  when  we 
learn  that  no  less  than  620  books  belonging  to  74  different  works 
can  be  traced  to  his  indefatigable  pen,  so  that,  as  an  ancient  critic 
says,  "  so  much  has  he  written  that  it  seems  impossible  he  could 
have  read  anything,  so  much  has  he  read  that  it  seems  incredible 
he  could  have  written  anything." 

In  the  domain  of  history  and  biography  he  was  somewhat  less 
active.  He  wrote,  however,  memoirs  of  his  campaigns,  and  a 
short  biography  of  Pompey.  A  work  of  his,  first  mentioned  by 
Cicero,  to  which  peculiar  interest  attaches,  is  the  Imagines  or 
Hebdomades,  called  by  Cicero  "  Yi^rrXoypa^ta  Varronis."8  It  was  a 
series  of  portraits — 700  in  all — of  Greek  and  Roman  celebrities,4 

1  Seneca.  *  Civ.  Dei  xviii.  9,  10,  17. 

3  Ad  Att.  xvi.  11.  The  Greek  terra  simply  means  "  a  gallery  of  distin. 
guished  persons,"  analogously  named  after  the  UewXos  of  Athene,  on  which 
the  exploits  of  great  heroes  were  embroidered. 

4  That  on  Demetrius  Poliorcetes  is  preserved  :  "  Hie  Demetrius  aencis  trj 
aptust  Quot  luces  habet  annus  exsolutus"  {aeneis  =  bronze  statues). 


TREATISE  ON  THE  LATIN  LANGUAGE.  151 

with  a  short  biography  attached  to  each,  and  a  metrical  epigram 
as  well.  This  was  intended  to  be,  and  soon  became,  a  popular 
work.  An  abridged  edition  was  issued  shortly  after  the  first,  39 
B.c.  no  doubt  to  meet  the  increased  demand.  This  work  is  men- 
tioned by  Pliny  as  embodying  a  new  and  most  acceptable  process,1 
whereby  the  impressions  of  the  portraits  were  multiplied,  and  the 
reading  public  could  acquaint  themselves  with  the  physiognomy 
and  features  of  great  men.2  What  this  process  was  has  been  the 
subject  of  much  doubt.  Some  think  it  wras  merely  an  improved 
method  of  miniature  drawing,  others,  dwelling  on  the  general 
acceptableness  of  the  invention,  strongly  contend  that  it  was  some 
method  of  multiplying  the  portraits  like  that  of  copper  or  wood 
engraving,  and  this  seems  by  far  the  most  probable  view ;  but  what 
the  method  was  the  notices  are  much  too  vague  for  us  to  determine. 
The  next  works  to  be  noticed  are  those  on  practical  science. 
As  far  as  we  can  judge  he  seems  to  have  imitated  Cato  in  bringing 
out  a  kind  of  encyclopaedia,  adapted  for  general  readers.  Augus- 
tine speaks  of  him  as  having  exhaustively  treated  the  whole 
circle  of  the  liberal,  or  as  he  prefers  to  call  it,  the  secular  arts.3 
Those  to  which  most  weight  were  attached  would  seem  to  have 
been  grammar,  rhetoric,  arithmetic,  medicine,  and  geometry. 
From  one  or  two  passages  that  are  preserved,  we  should  be 
inclined  to  fancy  that  Yarro  attached  a  superstitious  (almost  a 
Pythagorean)  importance  to  numbers.4  He  himself  was  not  an 
adherent  of  any  system,  but  as  Mommsen  quaintly  expresses  it, 
he  led  a  blind  dance  between  them  all,  veering  now  to  one  now 
to  another,  as  he  wished  to  avoid  any  unpleasant  conclusion  or 
to  catch  at  some  attractive  idea.  Not  strictly  connected  with  the 
Encyclopaedia,  but  going  to  some  extent  over  the  same  ground 
though  in  a  far  more  thorough  and  systematic  way,  was  the 
great  treatise  De  Lingua  Latina,  in  twenty-five  books,  of  which  the 
first  four  were  dedicated  to  Septimius,  the  last  twenty-one  (to  the 
orator's  infinite  delight)  to  Cicero.  Pew  things  gave  Cicero 
greater  pleasure  than  this  testimony  of  Varro's  regard.  With  his 
insatiable  appetite  for  praise,  he  could  not  but  observe  with 
regret  that  Varro,  trusted  by  Pompey,  courted  by  Caesar,  and 
reverenced  by  all  alike,  had  never  made  any  confidential  advances 
to  him.  Probably  the  deeply-read  student  and  simple-natured 
man  failed  to  appreciate  the  more  brilliant,  if  less  profound, 
scholarship  of  the  orator,  and  the  vacillation  and  complexity  of 

1  Plin.  xxxv.  2  ;  benignissimum  inventum. 

9  See  Bekker's  Gallus,  p.  30,  where  the  whole  subject  is  discussed. 

»  Civ.  Dei,  vi.  2. 

*  Aul.  Gell.  iii.  10,  quotes  also  from  the  Hehdomades  in  support  of  this. 


1  52  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

his  character,  While  Cicero  loaded  him  with  praises  and  pro 
testations  of  friendship,  Varro  appears  to  have  maintained  a  some 
what  cool  or  distant  attitude.  At  last,  however,  this  reserve  wai 
broken  through.  In  47  b.c.  he  seems  to  have  promised  Cicero  to 
dedicate  a  work  to  him,  which  by  its  magnitude  and  interest 
required  careful  labour.  In  the  letter  prefixed  to  the  posterioi 
Academic  a,  45  b.c.,  Cicero  evinces  much  impatience  at  having 
been  kept  two  years  waiting  for  his  promised  boon,  and  inscribes 
his  own  treatise  with  Varro's  name  as  a  polite  reminder  which 
he  hopes  his  friend  will  not  think  immodest.  In  the  opening 
chapters  Cicero  extols  Varro's  learning  with  that  warmth  of  heart 
and  total  absence  of  jealousy  which  form  so  pleasing  a  trait  in 
his  character.  Their  diffuseness  amusingly  contrasts  with  Varro's 
brevity  in  his  dedication.  When  it  appeared,  there  occurred  not 
a  word  of  compliment,  nothing  beyond  the  bare  announcement  In 
his  ad  te  scribam.1  Truly  Varro  was  no  "mutual  admirationist." 
C.  0.  Miiller,  who  has  edited  this  treatise  with  great  care,  is  of 
opinion  that  it  was  never  completely  finished.  He  argues  partly 
from  the  words  politius  a  me  limantur,  put  into  Varro's  mouth  by 
Cicero,  partly  from  the  civil  troubles  and  the  perils  into  which 
Varro's  life  was  placed,  partly  from  the  loose  unpolished  character 
of  the  work,  that  it  represents  a  first  draught  intended,  but  not 
ready  for,  publication.  For  example,  the  same  thing  is  treated 
more  than  once ;  Jubar  is  tAvice  illustrated  by  the  same  quota- 
tion,2 Canis  is  twice  derived  from  canere  ;  3  merces  is  differently 
explained  in  two  places ; 4  Lympha  is  derived  both  from  lapsus 
aquae,  and  from  Nympha  ;  5  vaticinari  from  vesanus  and  versibus 
viendisf  Again  marginal  additions  or  corrections,  which  have 
been  the  means  of  destroying  the  syntactical  connection,  seemed 
to  have  been  placed  in  the  text  by  the  author.7  Other  insertions 
of  a  more  important  character  though  they  illustrate  the  point, 
yet  break  the  thread  of  thought ;  and  in  one  book,  the  seventh, 
the  want  of  order  is  so  apparent  that  its  finished  character  could 
hardly  be  maintained.  These  facts  lead  him  to  conclude  that  the 
book  was  published  without  his  knowledge,  and  perhaps  against  his 

1  Miiller  notices  with  justice  the  mistake  of  Cicero  in  putting  down  Varro 
as  a  ilis'-iple  of  Antiochus,  whereas  the  frequent  philosophical  remarks 
scattered  throughout  the  De  Lingua  Latina  poirt  to  the  conclusion  that  at 
this  time,  Varro  had  hecome  attached  to  the  doctrines  of  stoicism.  It  h 
evident  that  there  was  an  real  intimacy  between  him  and  Cicero.  See  ad 
Att.  xiii.  12,  19  ;  Fam.  ix.  8. 

*  vi.  6,  vii.  76.        ■  v.  92,  vii.  32.        4  v.  44,  178.       5  v.  71,  vii.  87. 

•  vi.  52,  vii.  36 

7  vii.  60  ;  where,  afttr  a  quotation  from  Plautus,  we  have — "  hoc  itidem  il 
Corollaria  Naevius  :  idem  in  Curculione  ait," — where  the  words  from  h*» 
to  tfaevius  are  sn  after  addition.     Cf.  vii.  54. 


TREATISE  ON  Til B  LATIN  LANGUAGE.  163 

will,  by  those  who  pillaged  his  library.  It  is  obvious  that  this  is  a 
theory  which  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved.  It  is  an  ingeni- 
ous excuse  for  Varro's  negligence  in  not  putting  his  excellent  mate- 
rials together  with  more  care.  The  plan  of  the  work  is  as  follows : — 
Book  I. — On  the  origin  of  the  Latin  language. 
Books  II. -VII.  First  P^rt. — On  the  imposition  of  namea 
Thus  subdivided — 

a  ii.-iv.     On  etymology.       ii.  What  can  be  said  against  it 

iii.  What  can  be  said  for  it. 
iv.  About  its  form  and  character. 
b  v.-vii.     Origin  of  words,  v.  Names  of  places  and  all  that  is  in 

them. 
vi.  Names  of  time,  things  that  happen 

in  time,  &c. 
vii.  Poetical  words. 
Books  VIII. -XIII.     Second  Part. — On  declension  and  inflec- 
tion.    Again  subdivided — 
a  viii.-x.     The  general  method  (disciplina)  of  declension. 

viii.  Against  a  universal   analogy   ob- 
taining. 
ix.  In  favour  of  it. 
x.  On  the  theory  of  declension. 
b  xi.-xiii.     On  the  special  declensions. 

Books  XIV.-XXV.  Third  Part. — On  syntax  (Quemadmodum 
verba  inter  se  cot  dung  antur). 

Of  this  elaborate  treatise  only  books  V.-X.  remain,  and  those 
in  a  mutilated  and  unsatisfactory  condition,  so  that  we  are  unable 
to  form  a  clear  idea  of  the  value  of  the  whole.  Moreover,  much 
of  what  we  have  is  rendered  useless,  except  for  antiquarian  pur- 
poses, by  the  extremely  crude  notions  of  etymology  displayed. 
Caelum  is  from  cavus,  or  from  chaos;  terra  from  teri,  quia  ttritur; 
Sol  from  solus;  lepus  from  levij)es,  &c.  The  seventh  book  must 
always  be  a  repertory  of  interesting  quotations,  many  of  which  are 
not  found  elsewhere;  and  the  essay  on  Analogia  in  books  IX.  and 
X.  is  well  worthy  of  study,  as  showing  on  what  sort  of  premises 
the  ancients  formed  their  grammatical  reasonings.  The  work  on 
grammar  was  followed  or  preceded  by  another  on  philosophy  on 
a  precisely  similar  plan.  This  was  studied,  like  so  many  of  his 
other  works,  by  Tertullian,  Jerome,  and  Augustine.  Its  store  of 
facts  was  no  doubt  remarkable,  but  as  a  popular  exposition  of 
philosophical  ideas,  it  must  have  been  very  inferior  to  the 
treafises  of  Cicero. 

The  last  or  nearly  the  last  book  he  wrote  was  the  treatise  on 
agriculture,  De  Re  Radica,  which  has  fortunately  come  down  to  us 


154  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

entire  ;  and  with  the  kindred  works  of  Cato  and  Columella,  forma 
one  of  the  most  deeply  interesting  products  of  the  Eoman  mind, 
It  is  in  three  books  :  the  first  dedicated  to  his  wife  Fundania,  the 
second  to  Turanius  Niger,  the  third  to  Pinnius.  Varro  was  in  his 
81st  year  when  he  drew  upon  his  memory  and  experience  for  this 
congenial  work,  36  B.C.  The  destruction  of  his  library  had  thrown 
him  on  ris  own  resources  to  a  great  extent;  nevertheless,  the 
amount  of  book-lore  which  he  displays  in  this  dialogue  is  enor- 
mous. The  design  is  mapped  out,  as  in  his  other  treatises,  with 
stately  precision.  He  meets  some  friends  at  the  temple  of  Tellua 
by  appointment  with  the  sacristan,  "ab  aeditimo,w£  dicer e  didicimus 
a  pat ri 'bus  nostris  ;  ut  corrvjimur  ab  recentibiis  urbanis,  ab  aedituo. 
These  friends'  names,  Fundanius,  Agrius,  and  Agrasius,  suggest  the 
nature  of  the  conversation,  which  turns  mainly  on  the  purchase 
and  cultivation  of  land  and  stock.  They  are  soon  joined  by 
Licinius  Stolo  and  Tremellius  Scrofa,  the  last-mentioned  being  the 
highest  living  authority  on  agricultural  matters.  The  conversation, 
is  carried  on  with  zest,  and  somewhat  more  naturally  than  in 
Cicero's  dialogues.  A  warm  eulogy  is  passed  on  the  soil,  climate, 
and  cultivation  of  Italy,  the  whole  party  agreeing  that  it  exceeds 
in  natural  blessings  all  other  lands.  The  first  book  contains 
directions  for  raising  crops  of  all  kinds  as  well  as  vegetables  and 
flowers,  and  is  brought  to  an  abrupt  termination  by  the  arrival  of 
the  priest's  freedman  who  narrates  the  murder  of  his  master.  The 
party  promise  to  attend  the  funeral,  and  with  the  sarcastic  reflection 
de  cam  humano  magis  querentes  quam  admir antes  id  Romae  factum, 
the  book  ends.  The  next  treats  of  stock  {de  re  pecuaria),  and  one 
or  two  new  personages  are  introduced,  as  Mennas,  Murius,  and 
Vaccius  (the  last,  of  course,  taking  on  himself  to  speak  of  kine), 
and  ends  with  an  account  of  the  dairy  and  sheep-shearing.  The  third 
is  devoted  to  an  account  of  the  preserves  (de  villicis  pastionibus) 
which  includes  aviaries,  whether  for  pleasure  or  profit,  fish-tanks, 
deer-forests,  rabbit-warrens,  and  all  such  luxuries  of  a  country 
house  as  are  independent  of  tillage  or  pasturage — and  a  most 
brilliant  catalogue  it  is.  As  Yarro  and  his  friends,  most  of  whom 
are  called  by  the  names  of  birds  (Merula,  Pavo,  Pica,  and  Passer), 
discourse  to  one  another  of  their  various  country  seats,  and  as  they 
mention  those  of  other  senators,  more  or  less  splendid  than  their 
own,  we  recognise  the  pride  and  grandeur  of  those  few  Roman 
families  who  at  this  time  parcelled  out  between  them  the  riches  of 
the  world.  Varro,  whose  life  had  been  peaceful  and  unambitious, 
had  realized  enough  to  possess  three  princely  villas,  in  one  of  which 
there  was  a  marble  aviary,  with  a  dack-pond,  bosquet,  rosary,  and 
two  spacious  colonnades  attached,  in  which  were  kept,  solely  foi 


DIALOGUE  DE  RE  RUSTICA.  155 

the  master's  pleasure,  3000  of  the  choicest  songsters  of  the  wood 
That  grosser  taste  which  fattened  these  beautiful  beings  for  the 
table  or  the  market  was  foreign  to  him ;  as  also  was  the  affectation 
which  had  made  Hortensius  sacrifice  his  career  to  the  enjoyment 
of  his  pets.  There  is  something  almost  terrible  in  the  thought 
that  the  costly  luxuries  of  which  these  haughty  nobles  talk  with 
so  much  urbanity,  were  wrung  from  the  wretched  provincials  by 
every  kind  of  extortion  and  excess ;  that  bribes  of  untold  value 
passed  from  the  hands  of  cringing  monarchs  into  those  of  violent 
proconsuls,  to  minister  to  the  lust  and  greed,  or  at  best  to  the 
wanton  luxury,  of  a  small  governing  class.  In  Yarro's  pleasant 
dialogue  we  see  the  bright  side  of  the  picture ;  in  the  speeches  of 
Cicero  the  dark  side.  Doubtless  there  is  a  charm  about  the  lofty 
pride  that  brooks  no  superior  on  earth,  and  almost  without  know- 
ing it,  treats  other  nations  as  mere  ministers  to  its  comfort :  but 
the  nemesis  was  close  at  hand ;  those  who  could  not  stoop  to  assist 
as  seconds  in  the  work  of  government  must  lie  as  victims  beneath 
the  assassin's  knife  or  the  heel  of  the  upstart  freedman. 

The  style  of  this  work  is  much  more  pleasing  than  that  of  the 
Latin  Language.  It  is  brisk  and  pointed,  and  shows  none  of  the 
signs  of  old  age.  It  abounds  with  proverbs,1  patriotic  reflections, 
and  ancient  lore,2  but  is  nevertheless  disfigured  with  occasional 
faults,  especially  the  uncritical  acceptance  of  marvels,  such  as  the 
impregnation  of  mares  by  the  wind3  ("an  incredible  thing  but  never- 
theless true") ;  the  production  of  bees  from  dead  meat  (both  of  which 
puerilities  are  repeated  unquestioningly  by  Virgil),  the  custom  of 
wolves  plunging  swine  into  cold  water  to  cool  their  flesh  which  is  so 
hot  as  to  be  otherwise  quite  uneatable,  and  of  shrew  mice  occasionally 
gnawing  a  nest  for  themselves  and  rearing  their  young  in  the  hide 
of  a  fat  sow,  &c.4  He  also  attempts  one  or  two  etymologies ;  the 
best  is  via,  which  he  tells  us  is  for  veha,  and  villa  for  vehula ; 
capra  from  caper -e  is  less  plausible.  Altogether  this  must  be 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  Roman  treatises  on  husbandry  as  being 
at  once  the  work  of  a  man  of  practical  experience,  which  Cato  was, 
and  Columella  was  not,  and  of  elegant  and  varied  learning,  to 
which  Columella  might,  but  Cato  could  not,  pretend.  There  is, 
indeed,  rathe*  too  great  a  parade  of  erudition,  so  much  so  as 
occasionally  to  encumber  the  work ;  but  the  general  effect  is  very 


1  E.g.  humo  bulla-    Di  facientes  adiuvant — Romani  sedentes  vincnnt. 

*  Varro  refuses  to  invoke  the  Greek  gods,  but  turns  to  the  old  rustic  di 
Consentes,  Jupiter,  Tellus  ;  Sol,  Luna ;  Robigus,  Flora  ;  Minerva,  Veuus 
Liber,  Ceres  ;  Lympha  and  Bonus  Eventus.     A  motley  catalogue ! 

»  ii  4.  «  ii.  4. 


156 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


pleasing,  and  more  particularly  the  third  book,  which  shows  us  the 
calm  and  innocent  life  of  one,  who,  during  the  turbulent  and 
bloody  climax  of  political  strife,  sought  in  the  great  recollection€ 
of  the  past  a  solace  for  evils  which  he  was  powerless  to  cure,  and 
whose  end  he  could  not  foresee. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  I. — The  Menippean  Satires  of  Varro. 


The  reader  will  find  all  the  informa- 
tion on  this  subject  in  Riese's  edition 
of  the  Menippean  Satires,  Leipsic, 
1865.  We  append  a  few  fragments 
showing  their  style,  language,  and 
metrical  treatment. 

(1)  From  the  A/xfior  per  pels. 

*Qu6ni  secdntur  ciim  rutundis  velitfs  leva's 
paYmis 
Ante  signaiifquadrtftis miiltisignibiis  tecti." 

We  observe  here  the  rare  rhythm, 
analogous  to  the  iambic  scazon,  of  a 
trochaic  tetrameter  with  a  long  pen- 
ultimate syllable. 

(2)  From  the  *Av6puir6iro\is. 

*  Non  tit  thesauris  non  auro  pectu'  solutum; 
Non  demunt  animis  curas  et  religiones 
Persarum  montes,  non  atria  diviti'  Crassi." 

The  style  here  reminds  us  strongly  of 
Horace. 

(3)  From  the  Bimarcus. 

"Tone   repe*nte  eaelitum  tfltum   tonitribiis 

templiim  tone*scat, 
Et  pater  divdm  trisiilcum  f lilmen  igm  fer- 

vido  Return 
Mftt  at  (a  thollim  macclli. 

(4)  From  the  Dolium  aid  Seria,  in 
anapaestics. 

44  Mundus  domus  est  maxima  homulli 
Quam  quinque  altitonae  fiammigerae 
Zonae  cingunt  per  quam  limbus 


Bix  sex  signis  stellumicantibnt 
Aptus  in  obliquo  aethere  Lunae 
Bigas  acceptat." 

The  sentiment  reminds  us  of  Plat  j. 

(5)  From  the  Est  modus  matulae,  on 

wine. 

••  Vino  nihil  iucundius  quisquam  Dibit 
Hoc  aegritudinem  ad  medendam  inren»- 

runt, 
Hoc  hilaritatis  dulce  seminarium, 
Hoc  com  met  coagulum  conrivia, 

(6)  From  the  Eumenides,  \n  galli- 
ambics,  from  which  those  of  Catul- 
lus  may  be  a  study. 

"Tibi    typana  non    inrfnes    sonitus    Matrf 

Dedin 
TonimvT,  canimu'  tibi"  nos  tibi  mine  semi- 

fill  j 
Terete"m    comam    volantem     iactant   tibi 

Gallf 

(7)  From    the  fifarcipor,   a  fine 
description. 

"  Repente  noctis  circiter  meridie 
Cum  pictus  aer  fervidis  late  ignibus 
Caeli  chorean  astricen  ostenderet 
Nubes  aquali  frigido  velo  leves 
Cae  i  cavernas  aureas  subduxerant 
Aguam  vomentes  inferam  mortalibus 
V  entique  frigido  se  ab  axe  ei  uperant, 
Phrenetici  septentrionum  filii 
Secum  ferentes  tegulas  ramus  gyrus. 
At  nos  caduci  naufragi  ut  ciconiae, 
Quaruni  bipinnis  fulminis  plumas  v.tpor 
l'ercussit,  alte  maesti  in  terrain  cecidimus.* 


Note  II. — The  Logistorici. 


The  Logistorici,  which,  as  we  have 
said,  were  imitated  from  Heraclides 
Ponticus,  are  alluded  to  under  the 
name  'HpaKteiSeioir  by  Cicero.  He 
says  (Att.  xv.  27,  2),  Excudan  ali- 
quid  'Hpaic\(iht7cy,  quod  lateat  in 
thesauri*  tuir;  (xvi.  2,  5)  'HpajtAtc 


$€?ov,  si  Brundisium  saivi,  aonrumur. 
In  xvi.  3,  1,  he  alludes  to  the  work  as 
his  Cato  Major  de  Senectute.  Varrc 
had  promised  him  a  'Hpa/cActSctor. 
Varro  ...  a  quo  adhue  'Up.  Mud 
non  abstuli  (xvi.  11,  3),  he  received 
it  (xvi.  12). 


NOTES. 


157 


Note  III. — Some  Fragments  of  Varro  Atacinus* 


This  poet,  who  is  by  later  writers 
often  confounded  with  Varro  Reatinus, 
was  much  more  finished  in  his  style, 
and  therefore  more  read  by  the  Au- 
gustan writers.  Frequently  when 
they  speak  of  Varro  it  is  to  him  that 
they  refer.  We  append  some  passages 
from  his  Chorographia. 


1  Vidit  et  aetherio  mundum  torqnerier  axe 
Et  septem  aeternis  sonitum  dare  vocibus 

orbcs, 
Nitentes  aliis  alios  quae  maxima  divis 
Laetitia  est.     At  tunc  longe  gratissima 

Phoebi 
Dextera    consimiles    meditator    reddere 


voces. 


ii. 


1  Ergo  inter  solis  stationem  ad  sidera  septem 
Exporrecta  iacet  tellus:  huic  extimafluctu 
Oceani,  interior  Neptuno  cingitur  ora." 


in. 


k  At  quinque  aetheriis  zonis  accingltur  orbis 
Ac  vastant  imas  hiemes  mediamquc  calores: 


Scd  terrae  extremas  inter  medlamque  cd 

untur 
Quas  solis  valido  numquam  via    atteraJ 

igneV 

From  the  Ephemeris,  two  passages 
which  Virgil  has  copied. 


u  Turn  liceat  pelagi  volucres  tardaeqne  paha- 
dis 
Cernere  inexpleto  studio  gestlre  lavandi 
Et  velut  insolirum  pennis  infundere  rorem, 
Aut  ai  guta  lacus  circumvolitavit  hirundo." 

n. 

41  Et  vos  susplciens  caelum  (mfrabile  visu) 
Naribus  aerium  patulis  decerpsit  odoi  em, 
Nee  tenuis  formica  cavis  non  evehit  ova." 

An  epigram  attributed  to  him,  but 
probably  of  somewhat  later  date,  ia 
as  follows  : 

"  Mar m  or co  Licinus  tumulo  iacet,  at  Cato 
parvo ; 
Pompeius  nullo.     Ci  edimus  esse  deos  ?" 


Note  IV. — On  the  Jurists,  Critics,  and  Grammarians  of  less  note. 


The  study  of  law  had  received  a 
great  impulse  from  the  labours  of 
Scaevola.  But  among  his  successors 
none  can  be  named  beside  him, 
though  many  attained  to  a  respectable 
eminence.  The  business  of  public 
life  had  now  become  so  engrossing 
that  statesmen  had  no  leisure  to 
study  law  deeply,  nor  jurists  to  de- 
vote themselves  to  politics.  Hence 
there  was  a  gradual  divergence  be- 
tween the  two  careers,  and  universal 
principles  began  to  make  themselves 
felt  in  jurisprudence.  The  chief  name 
of  this  period  is  Sulpicius  Unfits  (born 
105  B.C.),  who  is  mentioned  with 
great  respect  in  Cicero's  Brutus  as  a 
high-minded  man  and  a  cultivated 
student.  His  contribution  lay  rather 
in  methodical  treatment  than  in 
amassing  new  material.  Speeches 
are  also  attributed  to  him  (Quint,  iv. 
2,  106),  though  sometimes  there  is 
an  uncertainty  whether  the  older 
orator  is  not  meant.  Letters  of  his 
are  preserved  among  those  of  Cicero, 
and  show  the  extreme  purity  of  lan- 


guage attained  by  the  highly  edu- 
cated (Ad  Fam.  iv  5).  Other  jurists 
are  P.  Orbius,  a  pupil  of  Juventius, 
of  whom  Cicero  thought  highly ; 
Ateius,  probably  the  father  of  that 
Ateius  Capito  who  obtained  great 
celebrity  in  the  next  period,  and 
Pacuvius  Labeo,  whose  fame  was  also 
eclipsed  by  that  of  his  son.  Some- 
what later  we  find  C.  Trebatius,  the 
friend  of  Cicero  and  recipient  of 
some  of  his  most  interesting  letters. 
He  was  a  brilliant  but  not  profound 
lawyer,  and  devoted  himself  more 
particularly  to  the  pontifical  law. 
His  dexterous  conduct  through  the 
civil  wars  enabled  him  to  preserve 
his  influence  under  the  reign  of  Au- 
gustus. Horace  professes  to  ask  hif 
advice  (Sat.  ii.  14): 

44  Docte  TrebatI 
Quid  faciam,  praescribo.** 

Trebatius  replies:  "Cease  to  write, 
or  if  you  cannot  do  that,  celebrate 
the  exploits  of  Caesar."  This  cour- 
tier-like counsel  is  characteristic  of 
the  man,   and  helps  to  explain  thfl 


158 


HISTORY  OF  KOMA.N  LITERATURE. 


high  position  he  was  enabled  to  take 
under  the  empire.  Two  other  jurists 
Are  worthy  of  mention,  A.  Cascellius, 
a  contemporary  of  Trebatius,  and 
noted  for  his  sarcastic  wit ;  and  Q. 
Adius  Tubero,  who  wrote  also  on 
history  and  rhetoric,  but  finally  gave 
himself  exclusively  to  legal  studies. 

Among  grammatical  critics,  the 
most  important  is  P.  Nigidiics  fijulus 
(98-46  B.C.).  He  was,  like  Varro, 
conservative  in  his  views,  and  is  con- 
sidered by  Gellius  to  come  next  to 
him  in  erudition.  They  appear  to 
have  been  generally  coupled  together 
by  later  writers,  but  probably  from 
the  similarity  of  their  studies  rather 
than  from  any  equality  of  talent. 
Nigidius  was  a  mystic,  and  devoted 
much  of  his  time  to  Pythagorean 
speculations,  and  the  celebration  of 
various  religious  mysteries.  His 
Commentarii  treated  of  grammar, 
orthography,  etymology,  &c.  In  the 
latter  he  appears  to  have  copied  Varro 
in  ileriving  all  Latin  words  from  native 
roots.  Besides  grammar,  he  wrote 
on  sacrificial  rites,  on  theology  {de 
dis),  and  natural  science.  One  or 
two  references  are  made  to  him  in 
the  curious  Apology  of  Apuleius.  In 
the  investigation  of  the  supernatural 
he  was  followed  by  Caecina,  who 
wrote  on  the  Etruscan  ceremonial, 
and  drew  up  a  theory  of  portents  and 
prodigies. 

The  younger  generation  produced 
few  grammarians  of  merit.  We  hear 
of    AUwi    I'raetexialuc,    who    was 


equally  well  known  as  a  rhetorican 
He  was  born  at  Athens,  set  free  foi 
his  attainments,  and  called  himself 
Philologus  (Suet.  De  Gram.  10).  He 
seems  to  have  had  some  influence 
with  the  young  nobles,  with  whom 
a  teacher  of  grammar,  who  was  also 
a  fluent  and  persuasive  speaker,  was 
always  welcome.  Another  instance 
is  found  in  Valerius  Cato,  who  lost 
his  patrimony  when  quite  a  youth 
by  the  rapacity  of  Sulla,  and  was 
compelled  to  teach  in  order  to  obtain 
a  living.  He  speedily  became  popu- 
lar, and  was  considered  an  excellent 
trainer  of  poets.     He  is  called — 

44  Cato  Grammaticus,  Latina  Siren, 
Qui  solus  legit  ct  facit  poetas." 

Having  acquired  a  moderate  fortune 
and  bought  a  villa  at  Tusculum,  he 
sank  through  mismanagement  again 
into  poverty,  from  which  he  never 
emerged,  but  died  inagarret,  destitute 
of  the  necessaries  of  life.  His  fate 
was  the  subject  of  several  epigrams, 
of  whirh  one  by  Bibaculus  is  pre- 
served in  Suetonius  (De  Gr.  ii). 

The  only  other  name  worth  notice 
is  that  of  Santra,  who  is  called  by 
Martial  Salebrosus.  He  seems  to 
have  written  chiefly  on  the  history 
of  Roman  literature,  and,  in  par- 
ticular, to  have  commented  on  the 
p*»ems  of  Naevius.  Many  obscurer 
writers  are  mentioned  in  Suetonius's 
treatise,  to  which,  with  that  on 
rhetoric  by  the  same  author,  the 
reader  in  here  referred. 


CHAPTER  IL 

Oratory  and  Philosophy — Cicero  (106-43  aa). 

Marcus  Tullius  Cicero,1  the  greatest  name  in  Koman  literature, 
was  born  on  his  father's  estate  near  Arpinum,  3d  Jan.  106  B.a 
Arpinum  had  received  the  citizenship  some  time  before,  but  hia 
family  though  old  and  of  equestrian  position  had  never  held  any 
office  in  Eome.  Cicero  was  therefore  a  novus  homo,  a  parvenu, 
as  we  should  say,  and  this  made  the  struggle  for  honours  which 
occupied  the  greater  part  of  his  career,  both  unusual  and  arduous. 
For  this  struggle,  in  which  his  extraordinary  talent  seemed  to 
predict  success,  his  father  determined  to  prepare  the  boy  by  an 
education  under  his  own  eye  in  Rome.  Marcus  lived  there  for 
some  years  with  his  brother  Quintus,  studying  under  the  best 
masters  (among  whom  was  the  poet  Archias),  learning  the  prin- 
ciples of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  and  storing  his  mind  with  the 
great  works  of  Greek  literature.  He  now  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  three  celebrated  men  to  whom  he  so  often  refers  in  his  writings, 
the  Augur  Mucius  Scaevola,  and  the  orators  Crassus  and  Antonius, 
with  whom  he  often  conversed,  and  asked  them  such  questions  as 
his  boyish  modesty  permitted.  At  this  time  too  he  made  his  first 
essays  in  verse,  the  poem  called  Pontius  Glaucus,  and  perhaps  the 
Phaenomena  and  Prognostics2  of  Aratus.  On  assuming  the  manly 
gown  he  at  once  attached  himself  to  Scaevola  for  the  purpose  of 
learning  law,  attending  him  not  only  in  his  private  consultations, 
but  also  to  the  courts  when  he  pleaded,  and  to  the  assembly  when 
he  harangued  the  people.  His  industry  was  untiring.  As  he*- 
tells  us  himself,  he  renounced  dissipation,  pleasure,  exercise,  even 
society ;  his  whole  spare  time  was  spent  in  reading,  writing,  and 
declaiming,  besides  daily  attendance  at  the  forum,  where  he 
drank  in  with  eager  zeal  the  fervid  eloquence  of  the  great  speakers. 
Naturally  keen  to  observe,  he  quickened  his  faculties  by  assiduous 
attention ;  not  a  tone,  not  a  gesture,  not  a  turn  of  speech  ever 

1  The  biographical  details  are  to  a  great  extent  drawn  from  Forsyth's  Lift 
of  Cicero.  2  Or  dioo-r)jj.e7a. 


160  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

escaped  him ;  all  were  noted  down  in  his  ready  memory  to  b< 
turned  to  good  account  when  his  own  day  should  come.  Mean* 
while  he  prepared  himself  by  deeper  studies  for  rising  to  oratorical 
eminence.  He  attended  the  subtle  lectures  of  Philo  the  Academic, 
and  practised  the  minute  dialectic  of  the  Stoics  under  Diodotus, 
and  tested  his  command  over  both  philosophy  and  disputation  by 
declaiming  in  Greek  before  the  rhetorician  Molo. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-five  he  thought  himself  qualified  to  appear 
before  the  world.  The  speech  for  Quintius,1  delivered  81  b.o.  is 
not  his  first,  but  it  is  one  of  his  earliest.  In  it  he  appears  as  the 
opponent  of  Hortensius.  At  this  time  Sulla  was  all-powerful  at 
"Rome.  He  had  crushed  with  pitiless  ferocity  the  remnants  of  the 
Marian  party ;  he  had  reinstated  the  senate  in  its  privileges, 
abased  the  tribunate,  checked  the  power  of  the  knights,  and  still 
swayed  public  opinion  by  a  rule  of  terror.  In  his  twenty-seventh 
year,  Cicero,  by  defending  S.  Eoscius  Amerinus,2  exposed  himself 
to  the  dictator's  wrath.  Eoscius,  whose  accuser  was  Sulla's 
powerful  freedman  Chrysogonus,  was,  though  innocent,  in  immi- 
nent danger  of  conviction,  but  Cicero's  staunch  courage  and 
irrisistible  eloquence  procured  his  acquittal.  The  efiect  of  this 
speech  was  instantaneous ;  the  young  aspirant  was  at  once  ranked 
among  the  great  orators  of  the  day. 

In  this  speech  we  see  Cicero  espousing  the  popular  side.  The 
change  which  afterwards  took  place  in  his  political  conduct  may 
perhaps  be  explained  by  his  strong  hatred  on  the  one  hand  for 
personal  domination,  and  by  his  enthusiasm  on  the  other  for  the 
great  traditions  of  the  past.  Averse  by  na£ure  to  all  extremes, 
and  ever  disposed  towards  the  weaker  cause,  he  became  a  vacillat- 
ing statesman,  because  his  genius  was  literary  not  political,  and 
because  (being  a  scrupulously  conscientious  man,  and  without 
the  inheritance  of  a  family  political  creed  to  guide  him)  he  found 
it  hard  to  judge  on  which  side  right  lay.  The  three  crises  of  his 
life,  his  defence  of  Eoscius,  his  contest  with  Catiline,  and  his 
resistance  to  Antony,  were  precisely  the  three  occasions  when  no 
such  doubts  were  possible,  and  on  all  these  the  conduct  of  Cicero, 
as  well  as  his  genius,  shines  with  its  brightest  lustre.  To  the 
speech  for  Eoscius,  his  first  and  therefore  his  boldest  effort,  he 
always  looked  back  with  justifiable  pride,  and  drew  from  it 
perhaps  in  after  life  a  spur  to  meet  greater  dangers,  greater  because 
experience  enabled  him  to  foresee  them.3 

About  this  time  Cicero's  health  began  to  fail  from  too  constant 
■tudy  and  over  severe  exertions  in  pleading.     The  tremendoui 

1  Pro  Quintio.  9  Pro  S.  fioscio  Amerino.  3  See  J)e  Of.  ii.  14 


THE  IMPEACHMENT  OF  VERRES.  161 

calls  on  a  Roman  orator's  physique  must  have  prevented  any  but 
robust  men  from  attaining  eminence.  The  place  where  he  spoke, 
girt  as  it  was  with  the  proudest  monuments  of  imperial  dominion, 
the  assembled  multitudes,  the  magnitude  of  the  political  issues  on 
which  in  reality  nearly  every  criminal  trial  turned,  all  these  roused 
the  spirit  of  the  speaker  to  its  utmost  tension,  and  awoke  a  corres- 
ponding vehemence  of  action  and  voice. 

Cicero  therefore  retired  to  Athens,  where  he  spent  six  months 
studying  philosophy  with  Antiochus  the  Academic,  and  with  Zeno 
and  Phaedrus  who  were  both  Epicureans.  His  brother  Quintus 
and  his  friend  Atticus  were  fellow-students  with  him.  He  next 
travelled  in  Asia  Minor,  seeking  the  help  and  advice  of  all  the 
celebrated  rhetoricians  he  met,  as  Menippus  of  Stratonice,  Diony- 
sius  of  Magnesia,  Aeschylus  of  Cnidos,  Xenocles  of  Adramyttium. 
At  Rhodes  he  again  placed  himself  under  Molo,  whose  wise 
counsel  checked  the  Asiatic  exuberance  which  to  his  latest  years 
Cicero  could  never  quite  discard ;  and  after  an  absence  of  over 
two  years  he  returned  home  thoroughly  restored  in  health,  and 
steadily  determined  to  win  his  place  as  the  greatest  orator  of  Rome 
(76  b.c).  Meanwhile  Sulla  had  died,  and  Cicero  no  longer 
incurred  danger  by  expressing  his  views.  He  soon  after  defended 
the  great  comedian  Roscius1  on  a  charge  of  fraud  in  a  civil  speech 
still  extant,  and  apparently  towards  the  end  of  the  same  year  was 
married  to  Terentia,  a  lady  of  high  birth,  with  whom  he  lived  for 
upwards  of  thirty  years. 

In  75  b.c.  Cicero  was  elected  quaestor,  and  obtained  the  pro- 
vince of  Sicily  under  the  Prastor  Sextus  Peducaeus.  "While  there 
he  conciliated  good  will  by  his  integrity  and  kindness,  and  on  his 
departure  was  loaded  with  honours  by  the  grateful  provincials. 
But  he  saw  the  necessity  of  remaining  in  Rome  for  the  future,  if 
he  wished  to  become  known  ;  consequently  he  took  a  house  near 
the  forum,  and  applied  himself  unremittingly  to  the  calls  of  his 
profession.  He  was  now  placed  on  the  list  of  senators,  and  in  the 
year  70  appeared  as  a  candidate  for  the  aedileship.  The  only 
oration  we  know  of  during  the  intervening  years  is  that  for  Tullius  2 
(71  b.c.)  ;  but  many  cases  of  importance  must  have  been  pleaded 
by  him,  since  in  the  preliminary  speech  by  which  he  secured  the 
conduct  of  the  case  against  Verres,3  he  triumphantly  brings  himself 
forward  as  the  only  man  whose  tried  capacity  and  unfailing  success 
makes  him  a  match  for  Hortensius,  who  is  retained  on  the  other 
side.  This  year  is  memorable  for  the  impeachment  of  Verres,  the 
only  instance  almost  where  Cicero  acted  as  public  prosecutor,  hif 

1  Pro  Roscio  Comocdo.         *  Pro  M.  Tullio.        •  Dtvinatio  in  Caeoilium, 

L 


162  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

kindly  nature  being  apter  to  defend  th^n  to  accuse;  but  on  thil 
occasion  he  burned  with  righteous  indignation,  and  spared  no 
labour  or  expense  to  ransack  Sicily  for  evidence  of  the  infamom 
praetor's  guilt. 

Cicero  was  tied  to  the  Sicilians,  whon  he  called  his  clients,  by 
acts  of  mutual  kindness,  and  he  now  sto.od  forth  to  avenge  them 
■with  a  good  will.  The  friends  of  Yerres  tried  to  procure  a 
Praevaricatio,  or  sham  accusation,  conducted  by  a  friend  of  the 
defendant,  but  Cicero  stopped  this  by  his  brilliant  and  withering 
invective  on  Caecilius,  the  unlucky  candidate  for  this  dishonourable 
office.  The  judges,  who  were  all  senators,  could  not  but  award 
the  prosecution  to  Cicero,  who,  dete* mined  to  obtain  a  conviction, 
conducted  it  with  the  utmost  dei  patch.  Waiving  his  right  to 
speak,  and  bringing  on  the  witnt^ses  contrary  to  custom  at  the 
outset  of  the  trial,  he  produced  t  odence  so  crushing  that  Verres 
absconded,  and  the  splendid  aations  which  remain1  had  no 
occasion  to  be,  and  never  were,  delivered.  It  was  Cicero's  justifi- 
able boast  that  he  obtained  all  tLe  offices  of  state  in  the  first  year 
in  which  he  could  by  law  hold  them.  In  69  b.c.  he  was  elected  at 
the  head  of  the  poll  as  Curule  A  jdile,  a  post  of  no  special  dignity, 
something  between  that  of  a  mayor  and  a  commissioner  of  works, 
but  admitting  a  liberal  expenditure  on  the  public  shows,  and  so 
useful  towards  acquiring  the  popularity  necessary  for  one  who 
aspired  to  the  consulship.  To  this  year  are  to  be  referred  the 
extant  speeches  for  Fonteius  2  «*nd  Caecina,3  and  perhaps  the  lost 
ones  for  Matridius  4  and  Oppius.6  Cicero  contrived  without  any 
great  expenditure  to  make  hik  aedileship  a  success.  The  people 
were  well  disposed  to  him,  and  regarded  him  as  their  most  brilliant 
representative. 

The  next  year  (68  B.C.)  is  important  for  the  historian  as  that  in 
which  begins  Cicero's  Correspondence — a  mine  of  information 
more  trustworthy  than  anything  else  in  the  whole  range  of  an- 
tiquity, and  of  exquisite  Latinity,  and  in  style  unsurpassed  and 
unsurpassable.  The  wealth  that  had  flowed  in  from  various 
sources,  such  as  bequests,  presents  from  foreign  potentates  or 
grateful  clients  at  home,  loans  probably  from  the  same  source,  to 
which  we  must  add  his  wife's  considerable  dowry,  he  proceeded  to 
expend  in  erecting  a  villa  at  Tusculum.  Such  villas  were  the  fairest 
omanents  of  Italy,  "ocelli  Italiae"  a«  Cicero  calls  them,  and  their 
splendour  may  be  inferred  from  the  descriptions  of  Varro  and 
Pliny.     Cicero's,  however,  though  it  contained  choice  works  of 

1  In  Verrem.     The  titles  of  the  separate  speeches  are  De  Praetura  Urbant\ 
De  Jurisdiction*  Sicilievsi,  De  Frumento%  De  Signis,  De  Suppliciis. 
■  Pro  Fordtio.   8  Pro  Caecina.    4  Pro  Matridio  (lost).    •  Pro  Oppio  (lost). 


THE  MANILIAN  LAW.  163 

art  and  many  rare  books,  could  not  challenge  comparison  with 
those  of  great  nobles  such  as  Catulus,  Lucullus,  or  Crassus,  but  it 
was  tastefully  laid  out  so  as  to  resemble  in  miniature  the  Aeademy 
of  Athens,  where  several  of  his  happiest  hours  had  been  spent, 
and  to  which  in  thought  he  often  returned.  Later  in  life  he 
purchased  other  country-seats  at  Antium,  Astum,  Sinuessa, 
Arpinum,  Formiae,  Cumae,  Puteoli,  and  Pcmpeii;  but  the  Tus- 
culan  was  always  his  favourite. 

In  the  year  67  Cicero  stood  for  the  praetorship,  the  election  to 
which  was  twice  put  off,  owing  to  the  disturbances  connected  with 
Gabinius'  motion  for  giving  the  command  of  the  Mediterranean  to 
Pompey,  and  that  of  Otho  for  assigning  separate  seats  in  the 
theatre  to  the  knights.  But  the  third  election  ratified  the  results 
of  the  two  previous  ones,  and  brought  in  Cicero  with  a  large 
majority  as  Praetor  TJrbanus  over  the  heads  of  seven,  some  of 
them  very  distinguished,  competitors.  He  entered  on  his  office 
66  b.c.  and  signalised  himself  by  his  high  conduct  as  a  judge; 
but  this  did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from  exercising  his  pro- 
fession as  an  advocate,  for  in  this  year  he  defended  Fundanius l 
in  a  speech  now  lost,  and  Cluentius  2  (who  was  accused  of  poison- 
ing) in  an  extremely  long  and  complicated  argument,  one  of  the 
most  difficult,  but  from  the  light  it  throws  on  the  depraved  morals 
of  the  time  one  of  the  most  important  of  all  his  speeches. 
Another  oration  belonging  to  this  year,  and  the  first  political 
harangue  which  Cicero  delivered,  was  that  in  favour  of  the  Mani- 
lian  law,3  which  conferred  on  Pompey  the  conduct  of  the  war 
against  Mithridates.  The  bill  was  highly  popular ;  Caesar  openly 
favoured  it,  and  Cicero  had  no  difficulty  in  carrying  the  entire 
assembly  with  him.  It  is  a  singularly  happy  effort  of  his  eloquence, 
and  contains  a  noble  panegyric  on  Pompey,  the  more  admirable 
because  there  was  no  personal  motive  behind  it.  At  the  expiration 
of  his  praetorian  year  he  had  the  option  of  a  province,  which  was 
a  means  of  acquiring  wealth  eagerly  coveted  by  the  ambitious ;  but 
Cicero  felt  the  necessity  of  remaining  at  Borne  too  strongly  to  be 
tempted  by  such  a  bribe.  "  Out  of  sight,  out  of  mind,"  was  no- 
wrhere  so  true  as  at  Rome.  If  he  remained  away  a  year,  who 
could  tell  whether  his  chance  for  the  Consulship  might  not  be 
irretrievably  compromised  1 

In  the  following  year  (65  b.c.)  he  announced  himself  as  a  can 
dictate  for  this,  the  great  object  of  his  ambition,  and  received  from 
his  brother  some  most  valuable  suggestions  in  the  essay  or  letter 
known  as  De  PctUione  Corsulah  *.     This  manned  (for  so  it  might 

1  Pro  Fundanio  (lost).  *  Pro  A.  Clucnlio  Uahiia 

t  Pro  lege  Manilla. 


164  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

be  called)  of  electioneering  tactics,  gives  a  curious  insight  into  tin 
customs  of  the  time,  and  in  union  with  many-  shrewd  and  per- 
tinent remarks,  contains  independent  testimony  to  the  evil  char- 
acters of  Antony  and  Catiline.  But  Cicero  relied  more  on  hia 
eloquence  than  on  the  arts  of  canvassing.  It  was  at  this  juncture 
that  he  defended  the  ex-tribune  Cornelius,1  who  had  been  accused 
of  maiestas,  with  such  surpassing  skill  as  to  draw  forth  from  Quin- 
tilian  a  special  tribute  of  praise.  This  speech  is  unfortunately 
lost.  His  speech  in  the  white  gmon^  of  which  a  few  fragments 
are  preserved  by  Asconius,  was  delivered  the  following  year,  only 
a  few  days  before  the  election,  to  support  the  senatorial  measure 
for  checking  corrupt  canvassing.  When  the  comitia  were  held, 
Cicero  was  elected  by  a  unanimous  vote,  a  fact  which  reflects 
credit  upon  those  who  gave  it.  For  the  candidate  to  whom  they 
did  honour  had  no  claims  of  birth,  or  wealth,  or  military  glory  ; 
he  had  never  flattered  them,  never  bribed  them ;  his  sole  title  to 
their  favour  was  his  splendid  genius,  his  unsullied  character,  and 
his  defence  of  their  rights  whenever  right  was  on  their  side. 
The  only  trial  at  which  Cicero  pleaded  during  this  year  was  that 
of  Q.  Gellius,3  in  which  he  was  successful. 

The  beginning  of  his  consulship  (63  b.o.)  was  signalised  by 
three  great  oratorical  displays,  viz.  the  speeches  against  the  agra- 
rian law  of  Rullus4  and  the  extempore  speech  delivered  on  behalf 
of  Roscius  Otho.  The  populace  on  seeing  Otho  enter  the  theatre, 
rose  in  a  body  and  greeted  him  with  hisses  :  a  tumult  ensued  ; 
Cicero  was  sent  for  ;  he  summoned  the  people  into  an  adjoining 
temple,  and  rebuked  them  with  such  sparkling  wit  as  to  restore 
completely  their  good  humour.  It  is  to  tins  triumph  of  eloquence 
that  Virgil  is  thought  to  refer  in  the  magnificent  simile  (Ae»,  i  148) : 

u  Ac  veluti  magno  in  populo  cum  saepe  coorta  est 
Seditio,  saevitque  animis  ignobile  volgus  ; 
Iamque  faces  et  saxa  volant,  furor  arma  ministrat} 
Turn  pietate  gravem  ac  meritis  si  forte  virum  quem 
Aspexere  silent  arrectisque  auribus  adstant ; 
Ule  regit  dictis  amnios  et  pectoia  mulcet." 

The  next  speech,  which  still  remains  to  us,  is  a  defence  of  the 
senator  Rabirius;5  that  on  behalf  of  Calpurnius  Piso  is  lost.6 
But  the  efforts  which  make  this  year  forever  memorable  are  the 
four  orations  against  Catiline.7  These  were  almost  extemporaneous, 
and  in  their  trenchant  vigour  and  terrible  mastery  of  invective  are 
unsurpassed  except  by  the  second  Philippic.     In  the  very  heat  of 

1  Pro  C.  Cornelio.  *  In  toga  Candida.       8  Pro.  Q.  Gellio  (lost). 

4  De  lege  Agraria.        8  Pro  C.  Habirio.       •  Pro  Calpurnio  Pisone  (lost) 

f  In  L.  Catilinam* 


CICERO  AND  CLODIUS.  165 

the  crisis,  however,  Cicero  found  time  to  defer  d  his  friend 
Mnraena1  in  a  brilliant  and  jocose  speech,  which  shows  the  mar- 
vellous versatility  of  the  man.  That  warm  Italian  nature,  open 
to  every  gust  of  feeling,  over  which  impressions  came  and  went 
like  summer  clouds,  could  turn  at  a  moment's  notice  from  the 
hand-to-hand  grapple  of  a  deadly  duel  to  the  lightest  and  most 
delicate  rapier  practice  of  the  fencing  schooL 

As  soon  as  Cicero  retired  from  office  (62  b.c.)  he  found  enemies 
ready  to  accuse  him.  Metellus  the  Tribune  declared  that  he  had 
violated  the  Constitution.  Cicero  replied  to  him  in  a  spirited 
speech,  which  he  alludes  to  under  the  name  Oratio  Metellina,  but 
he  felt  himself  on  insecure  ground.  Catiline  was  indeed  crushed, 
but  the  ramifications  of  the  conspiracy  extended  far  and  wide. 
Autronius  and  Sulla  were  implicated  in  it;  the  former  Cicero 
refused  to  aid,  the  latter  he  defended  in  a  speech  which  is  lost 
to  us.2  The  only  other  speech  of  this  year  is  that  on  behalf  of 
the  poet  Archias,3  who  had  been  accused  of  usurping  the  rights 
of  a  Eoman  citizen.  In  the  following  year  (61  b.c.)  occurred  the 
scandal  about  Clodius.  This  profligate  demagogue  would  have 
been  acquitted  on  an  alibi,  had  it  not  been  for  Cicero's  damaging 
evidence  ;  he  nevertheless  contrived  to  procure  a  final  acquittal  by 
the  most  abominable  means,  but  determined  to  wreak  his  ven- 
geance by  working  Cicero's  ruin.  To  this  resolution  the  personal 
taunts  of  the  great  orator  no  doubt  contributed.  We  have  an 
account  from  Cicero's  pen  of  the  scenes  that  took  place  in  the 
senate  during  the  trial — the  invectives  poured  forth  by  Clodius 
and  the  no  less  fiery  retorts  of  his  opponent.  We  must  not  imagine 
our  orator's  talent  as  always  finding  vent  in  the  lofty  strain  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  him.  On  the  contrarv,  his 
attacks  at  times  were  pitched  in  another  key,  and  he  would  fre- 
quently exchange  sarcastic  jests  in  a  way  that  we  should  regard  as 
incompatible  with  decency,  and  almost  with  self-respect.  On  one 
occasion,  for  instance,  he  had  a  skirmish  of  wit,  which  was  vocifer- 
ously applauded  by  an  admiring  senate  :  "  You  have  bought  a 
house,"  says  Clodius.  (We  quote  from  Forsyth.)  "One  would 
think,"  rejoins  Cicero,  "that  ycu  said  I  had  bought  a  jury."  "They 
did  not  believe  you  on  your  oath  ! "  exclaims  Clodius.  "  Yes," 
retorted  Cicero,  "twenty-five  of  the  jury  did  believe  me,  but 
thirty-one  did  not  believe  you,  for  they  took  care  to  get  their 
money  beforehand  ! "  These  and  similar  pleasantries,  however 
they  may  have  tickled  the  ears  of  the  senate,  awoke  in  Clodius 
an  implacable  hatred,  which  could  only  be  satisfied  with  Cicero'i 

Pro  Muraena.  »  Pro  Coriulio  Sulla  (lost).  •  Pro  Arch  ia  poeLt, 


166  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

fall ;  and  the  better  to  strike  at  him  he  made  an  attempt  (u» 
successful  at  first,  but  carried  out  somewhat  later)  to  be  made  a 
plebeian  find  elected  tribune  of  the  people  (60  b.c). 

Meanwhile  Cicero  had  returned  to  his  profession,  and  defended 
Scipio  Nasica ; 1  he  had  also  composed  a  history  of  his  consulship 
in  Greek,  on  which  (to  use  his  own  expression)  he  had  emptied  all 
the  scent-boxes  of  Isocrates,  and  touched  it  lightly  with  the  brush 
of  Aristotle ;  moreover,  he  collected  into  one  volume  the  speeches 
he  had  delivered  as  consul  under  the  title  of  Consular  OraHoiu.^ 
At  this  time  the  coalition  known  as  the  First  Triumvirate  was 
formed,  and  Cicero,  disgusted  at  its  unscrupulous  conduct,  left 
Rome  for  his  Tusculan  villa,  where  he  meditated  writing  a  work 
on  universal  geography.  Soon,  however,  impatient  of  retirement,  he 
returned  to  Borne,  defended  A.  Themius 3  twice,  and  both  times 
successfully,  and  afterwards,  aided  by  Hortensius  (with  whose 
party  he  had  now  allied  himself),  L.  Valerius  Flaccus  (59  b.c.).4 

But  Clodius's  vengeance  was  by  this  time  imminent,  and 
Pompey's  assurances  did  not  quiet  Cicero's  mind.  He  retired  for 
some  months  to  his  Antian  villa,  and  announced  his  intention  of 
publishing  a  collection  of  anecdotes  of  contemporary  statesmen,  in 
the  style  of  Theopompus,  which  would  be,  if  we  possessed  it,  an 
extremely  valuable  work.  On  his  return  to  Eome  (58  B.c.)  he 
found  the  feeling  strongly  against  him,  and  a  bill  of  Clodius's  was 
passed,  interdicting  him  from  fire  and  water,  confiscating  his  pro- 
perty, and  outlawing  his  person.  The  pusillanimity  he  shows 
in  his  exile  exceeds  even  the  measure  of  what  we  could  have 
believed.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  love  of  country  was  a 
passion  with  the  ancients  to  a  degree  now  difficult  to  realise ;  and 
exile  from  it,  even  for  a  time,  was  felt  to  be  an  intolerable  eviL 
But  Cicero's  exile  did  not  last  long;  in  August  of  the  following 
year  (57  b.c.)  he  was  recalled  with  no  dissentient  voice  but  that 
of  Clodius,  and  at  once  hastened  to  Borne,  where  he  addressed 
the  senate  and  people  in  terms  of  extravagant  compliment. 
These  are  the  fine  speeches  "on  his  return,"5  in  the  first  of  which 
lie  thanks  the  senate,  and  in  the  second  the  people ;  in  the  third  he 
addresses  the  pontiffs,  trying  to  persuade  them  that  he  has  a  right 
to  reclaim  the  site  of  his  house,6  in  the  fourth7  which  was  delivered 
early  the  next  year,  he  rings  the  changes  on  the  same  subject. 

The  next  year  (56  b.o.)  is  signalised  by  several  important 
fpeeches.     Whatever  we  may  think  of  his  political  condurt  during 

1  Pro  Scip.  Nasica.  *  Orationes  Consular**, 

•  Pro  A.  Themio  (lost).  4  Pro  Flacco. 

•  Orationes  post  reditum.  They  are  ad  Scnatumy  and  ad  Populum, 

•  De  dorm  sua.  7  De  haruspicum  respond. 


THE  SPEECH  FOR  MILO.  167 

tlds  trying  period,  his  professional  activity  was  most  remarkable. 
He  defended  L.  Bestia1  (who  was  accused  of  electoral  corruption 
when  candidate  for  the  praetorship)  but  unsuccessfully ;  and  also  P. 
Sextius,2  on  a  charge  of  bribery  and  illegal  violence,  in  which  he  was 
supported  by  Hortensius.  Soon  after  we  find  him  in  the  country 
in  correspondence  with  Lucceius,  on  the  subject  of  the  history  of  his 
consulship ;  but  he  soon  returned  to  Eome  and  before  the  year 
ended  delivered  his  fine  speech  on  the  consular  provinces,8  in 
which  he  opposed  the  curtailment  of  Caesar's  command  in  Gaul ; 
and  also  that  on  behalf  of  Coelius,4  a  lively  and  elegant  oration 
which  has  been  quoted  to  prove  that  Cicero  was  indifferent  to 
purity  of  morals,  because  he  palliates  as  an  advocate  and  a  friend 
the  youthful  indiscretions  of  his  client. 

In  55  B.C.  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  Caninius  Gallus,6  in  a  suc- 
cessful speech  now  lost,  and  attacked  the  ex-consul  Piso6  (who 
had  long  roused  his  resentment)  in  terms  of  the  most  unmeasured 
and  unworthy  invective.  Towards  the  close  of  the  year  he  com- 
pleted his  great  treatise,  De  Oratore,  the  most  finished  and  fault- 
less of  all  his  compositions;  and  so  active  was  his  mind  at 
this  epoch,  that  he  offered  to  write  a  treatise  on  Britain,  if 
Quintus,  who  had  been  there  with  Caesar,  would  furnish  him 
with  the  materials.  His  own  poems,  de  Consulatu  and  de  Tern- 
-paribus  suis  had  been  completed  before  this,  and,  as  we  learn  from 
the  letters,  were  highly  approved  by  Caesar.  Next  year  (54  B.o.) 
he  defended  Plancius7  and  Scaurus,8  the  former  of  which  orations 
is  still  extant;  and  later  on,  Rabirius  Postumus,9  who  was 
accused,  probably  with  justice,  of  extortion.  This  year  had  wit- 
nessed another  change  in  Cicero's  policy ;  he  had  transferred  his 
allegiance  from  Pompey  to  Caesar.  In  52  b.c.  occurred  the  cele- 
brated trial  of  Milo  for  the  murder  of  Clodius,  in  which  Cicero, 
who  appeared  for  the  defendant,  was  hampered  by  the  presence  of 
Pompey's  armed  retainers,  and  made  but  a  poor  speech;  the 
magnificent  and  exhaustive  oratorical  display  that  we  possess10 
having  been  written  after  Milo's  condemnation  and  sent  to  him  in 
his  exile  at  Marseilles,  where  he  received  it  with  sarcastic  praise. 
At  the  close  of  this  year  Cicero  was  appointed  to  the  government 
of  the  province  of  Cilicia,  where  he  conducted  himself  with  an 
integrity  and  moderation  little  known  to  Roman  pro-consuls,  and 
returned  in  50  b.c.  scarcelv  richer  than  he  had  set  out. 

During  the  following  years  Cicero  played  a  subordinate  part 

1  Pro  L.  Bestia.    *  Pro  Sextio.  *  De  Provinciis  Consularifois. 

*  Pro  Codio.  5  Pro  Can.  Gallo  (lost).  •  In  Pisonen. 

1  Pro  Plancio.       8  Pro  Scauro  (lost).  •  Pro  C.  BabirU  Postutno  (love) 
M  Pro  T.  Ann™  Miim*. 


168  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

In  the  great  convulsions  that  were  shaking  the  state  men  of  t 
different  sort  were  required ;  men  who  possessed  the  first  requisite 
for  the  statesman,  the  one  thing  that  Cicero  lacked,  firmness. 
Had  Cicero  heen  as  firm  as  he  was  clear-sighted,  he  might  have 
headed  the  statesmanship  of  Rome.  But  wh^e  he  saw  the  drift 
of  affairs  he  had  not  courage  to  act  upon  his  insight ;  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  made  the  tool,  now  of  Pompey,  now  of  Caesar,  till 
both  were  tired  of  him.  "  I  wish,"  said  Pompey,  when  Cicero 
joined  him  in  Epirus,  "  that  Cicero  would  go  over  to  the  other 
side ;  perhaps  he  would  then  be  afraid  of  us."  The  only  speeches  we 
possess  of  this  period  were  delivered  subsequently  to  the  victorious 
entry  of  Caesar,  and  exhibit  a  prudent  but  most  unworthy  adulation. 
That  for  Marcellus1  (46  b.c.)  was  uttered  in  the  senate,  and  from  its 
gross  flattery  of  the  dictator  was  long  supposed  to  be  spurious ;  the 
others  on  behalf  of  Ligarius2  and  King  Deiotarus3  are  in  a  scarcely 
more  elevated  strain.  Cicero  was  neither  satisfied  with  himself  nor 
with  the  world;  he  remained  for  the  most  time  in  retirement,  and 
devoted  his  energies  to  other  literary  labours.  But  his  absence  had 
proved  his  value.  No  sooner  is  Caesar  dead  than  he  appears  once 
more  at  the  head  of  the  state,  and  surpasses  all  his  former  efforts 
in  the  final  contest  waged  with  the  brutal  and  unscrupulous 
Antony.  On  the  history  of  this  eventful  period  we  shall  not 
touch,  but  merely  notice  the  fourteen  glorious  orations  called 
Philippicae*  (after  those  of  Demosthenes),  with  which  as  by  a 
bright  halo  he  encircled  the  closing  period  of  his  life. 

The  first  was  delivered  in  the  senate  (2d  September,  44  B.c.) 
and  in  it  Cicero,  who  had  been  persuaded  by  Brutus,  most  fortu- 
nately for  his  glory,  to  return  to  Rome,  excuses  his  long  absence 
from  affairs,  and  complains  with  great  boldness  of  Antony's 
threatening  attitude.  This  roused  the  anger  of  his  opponent,  who 
delivered  a  fierce  invective  upon  Cicero,  to  which  the  latter  replied 
by  that  tremendous  outburst  of  mingled  imprecation,  abuse,  self- 
justification,  and  exalted  patriotism,  which  is  known  as  the 
Second  Philippic.  This  was  not  published  until  Antony  had  left 
Rome  ;  but  it  is  composed  as  if  it  had  been  delivered  immediately 
after  the  speech  which  provoked  it.  Never  in  all  the  history  of 
eloquence  has  a  traitor  been  so  terribly  denounced,  an  enemy  so 
mercilesslj7"  scourged.  It  has  always  been  considered  by  critics  as 
Cicero's  crowning  masterpiece.  The  other  Philippics,  some  of 
which  were  uttered  in  the  senate,  while  others  were  extempore 
harangues  before  the  people,  were  delivered  in  quick  succession 
between  December  44  B.C.   and  April  43  B.O.     They  cost  the 

1  Pro  Marcello.  •  Pro  Q.  Ligario. 

•  Pro  Rege  Dciotaro.  4  Orationes  Philippicae  in  M.  Antonvum  xtw, 


CRITICISM  OF  HIS  ORATORY.  169 

orator  Ms  life.  When  Antony  and  Octavius  entered  Homo 
together,  and  each  sacrificed  his  friends  to  the  other's  bloodthirsty 
vengeance,  Cicero  was  surrendered  hy  Octavius  to  Antony's 
minions.  He  was  apprised  of  the  danger,  and  for  a  while  thought 
of  escaping,  but  nobler  thoughts  prevailed,  and  he  detent  ined  to 
meet  his  fate,  and  seal  by  death  a  life  devoted  to  his  country. 
The  end  is  well-known ;  on  the  7th  of  December  he  was  mur- 
dered by  Popillius  Laenas,  a  man  whom  he  had  often  befriended, 
and  his  head  and  hands  sent  to  Antony,  who  nailed  them  to  the 
rostra,  in  mockery  of  the  immortal  eloquence  of  which  that  spot 
had  so  often  been  the  scene,  and  which  was  now  for  ever  hushed, 
leaving  to  posterity  the  bitter  reflection  that  Freedom  had  perished, 
and  with  her  Eloquence,  her  legitimate  and  noblest  child. 

The  works  of  this  many-sided  genius  may  be  classed  under 
three  chief  divisions,  on  each  of  which  we  shall  offer  a  few  critical 
remarks ;  his  Orations,  his  Philosophical  and  Ehetorical  Treatises, 
and  his  Correspondence. 

Cicero  was  above  all  things  an  Orator.  To  be  the  greatest 
orator  of  Eome,  the  equal  of  Demosthenes,  was  his  supreme 
desire,  and  to  it  all  other  studies  were  made  subservient.  Poetry, 
history,  law,  philosophy,  were  regarded  by  him  only  as  so  many 
qualifications  without  which  an  orator  could  not  be  perfect.  He 
could  not  conceive  a  great  orator  except  as  a  great  man,  nor  a  good 
orator  except  as  a  good  man.  The  integrity  of  his  public  conduct, 
the  purity  of  his  private  life,  wonderful  if  contrasted  with  the 
standard  of  those  around  him,  arose  in  no  small  degree  from  the 
proud  consciousness  that  he  who  was  at  the  head  of  Eoman 
eloquence  must  lead  in  all  respects  a  higher  life  than  other  men. 
The  cherished  theory  of  Quintilian,  that  a  perfect  orator  would  be 
the  best  man  that  earth  could  produce,  is  really  but  a  restatement 
of  Cicero's  firm  belief.  His  highest  faculties,  his  entire  nature, 
conspired  to  develop  the  powers  of  eloquence  that  glowed  within 
him ;  and  though  to  us  his  philosophical  treatises  or  his  letters  may 
be  more  refreshing  or  full  of  richer  interest  than  his  speeches,  yet 
it  is  by  these  that  his  great  fame  has  been  mainly  acquired,  and  it 
is  these  which  beyond  comparison  best  display  his  genius. 

Of  the  eighty  or  thereabouts  which  he  is  known  to  have  com- 
posed, fifty-nine  are  in  whole  or  in  part  preserved.  They  enable 
us  to  form  a  complete  estimate  of  his  excellences  and  defects,  for 
they  belong  to  almost  every  department  of  eloquence.  Some,  as 
we  have  seen,  are  deliberative,  others  judicial,  others  descriptive, 
others  personal ;  and  while  in  the  two  latter  classes  his  talents 
are  nobly  conspicuous,  the  first  is  as  ill-adapted  as  the  second  is 
preeminently  suitable  to  his  special   gifts.     As  pleader  for  ar 


170  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  IJTERATURE. 

accused  person,  Cicero  cannot,  we  may  say  could  not,  be  surpassed 
It.  was  this  exercise  of  his  talent  that  gave  him  the  deepest  plea- 
sure, and  sometimes,  as  he  says  with  nohle  pride,  seemed  to  lift 
him  almost  above  the  privileges  of  humanity ;  for  to  help  the 
weak,  to  save  the  accused  from  death,  is  a  work  worthy  of  the 
gods.  In  invective,  no th withstanding  his  splendid  anger  against 
Catiline,  Antony,  and  Piso,  he  does  not  appear  at  his  happiest ; 
and  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  It  has  often  been  laid  to  his 
reproach  that  he  corresponded  and  even  held  friendly  intercourse 
with  men  whom  he  holds  up  at  another  time  to  the  execration  of 
mankind.  Catiline,  Antony,  Clodius,  not  to  mention  other  less 
notorious  criminals,  had  all  had  friendly  relations  with  him. 
And  even  at  the  very  time  of  his  most  indignant  speeches,  we 
know  from  his  confidential  correspondence  that  he  often  meditated 
advances  towards  the  men  concerned,  which  showed  at  least  an 
indulgent  attitude.  The  truth  is,  that  his  character  was  all  sym- 
pathy. He  had  so  many  points  of  contact  with  every  human 
being,  he  was  so  full  of  human  feeling,  that  he  could  in  a  moment 
put  himself  into  each  man's  position  and  draw  out  whatever  plea 
or  excuse  his  conduct  admitted.  It  was  not  his  nature  to  feel 
inger  long ;  it  evaporates  almost  in  the  speaking ;  he  soon  returns 
to  the  kind  and  charitable  construction  which,  except  for  reasons 
of  argument,  he  was  always  the  foremost  to  assume.  No  man 
who  lived  was  ever  more  forgiving.  And  it  is  this,  and  not  moral 
blindness  or  indifference,  which  explains  the  glaring  inconsistencies 
of  his  relations  to  others.  It  will  follow  from  this  that  he  was 
pre-eminently  fitted  for  the  oratory  of  panegyric.  And  beyond 
doubt  he  has  succeeded  in  this  difficult  department  better  than 
any  other  orator,  ancient  or  modern.  "Whether  he  praises  his 
country,  its  religion,  its  laws,  its  citizens,  its  senate,  or  its  in- 
dividual magistrates,  he  does  it  with  enthusiasm,  a  splendour,  a 
geniality,  and  an  inconceivable  richness  of  felicitous  expression 
which  make  us  love  the  man  as  much  as  we  admire  his  genius.1 

And  here  we  do  not  find  that  apparent  want  of  conviction  that 
so  painfully  jars  on  the  impression  of  reality  which  is  the  first 
testimony  to  an  orator's  worth.  When  he  praises,  he  praises  with 
all  his  heart.  When  he  raises  the  strain  of  moral  indignation  we 
can  almost  always  beneath  the  orator's  enthusiasm  detect  the 
rhetorician's  art.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  notice  in  a  future  page 
the  distressing  loss  of  power  which  at  a  later  period  this  affecta* 
tion  of  moral  sentiment  involved.  In  Cicero  it  does  not  intrude 
upon  the  surface,  it  is  only  remotely  present  in  the  background, 

1  Such  are  the  speeches  for  the  Manilian  law,  for  Marcellus,  Arclihs,  and 
•ottip  of  the  later  Philippics  in  praise  of  Octavius  an  4.  Servius  Sulpicius. 


CRITICISM  OF  HIS  ORATORY.  171 

tnd  to  the  Romans  themselves  no  doubt  appeared  an  excellence 
rather  than  a  defect.     Nevertheless,  if  we  compare  Cicero  with 
Demosthenes  in  this  respect,  we  shall  at  once  acknowledge  the 
decisive  superiority  of  the  latter,  not  only  in  his  never  pretending 
to  take  a  lofty  tone  when  he  is  simply  abusing  an  enemy,  but  in 
his  immeasurably  deeper  earnestness  when  a  question  of  patriotism 
or  moral  right  calls  out  his  highest  powers.     Cicero  has  always 
an  array  of  common-places   ready  for  any    subject;   every  case 
which  he  argues  can  be  shown  to  involve  such  issues  as  the  belief 
in  a  divine  providence,  the   loyalty  to    patriotic   tradition,    the 
maintenance  of  the  constitution,  or  the  sanctity  of  family  life; 
and  on  these  well-worn  themes  he  dilates  with  a  magniiicent  pro- 
digality of  pathetic  ornament  which,  while  it  lends  splendour  tc 
his  style,  contrasts  most  unfavourably  with  the  curt,  business-like, 
and  strictly  relevant  arguments  of  Demosthenes. 

For  deliberative  eloquence  it  has  been  already  said  that  Cicero 
was  not  well  fitted,  since  on  great  questions  of  state  it  is  not  so 
much  the  orator's  fire  or  even  his  arguments  that  move  as  the 
authority  which  attaches  to  his  person.  And  in  this  lofty  source 
of  influence  Cicero  was  deficient.  It  was  not  by  his  fiery  in- 
vective, or  his  impressive  pictures  of  the  peril  of  the  state,  that 
the  senate  was  persuaded  to  condemn  the  Catilinarian  conspirators 
to  death  without  a  trial ;  it  was  the  stern  authoritative  accents  of 
Cato  that  settled  their  wavering  resolution.  Cicero  was  always 
applauded ;  men  like  Crassus,  Pompey,  or  Caesar,  were  followed. 

Even  in  his  own  special  department  of  judicial  eloquence 
Cicero's  mind  was  not  able  to  cope  with  the  great  principles  of 
law.  Such  fundamental  questions  as  "  Whether  law  may  be  set 
aside  for  the  purpose  of  saving  the  state  V  "  How  far  an  illegal 
action  which  has  had  good  results  is  justifiable  1 "  questi  s  which 
concern  the  statesman  and  philosopher  as  much  as  the  jurist,  he 
meets  with  a  superficial  and  merely  popular  treatment.  Without 
any  firm  basis  of  opinion,  either  philosophical  like  Cato's,  personal 
like  Caesar's,  or  traditional  like  that  of  the  senate,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  judge  questions  by  the  results  which  he  could  fores'  e  at 
the  moment,  and  by  the  floating  popular  standard  to  which,  as  an 
advocate,  he  had  naturally  turned. 

But  while  denying  to  Cicero  the  highest  legal  attributes,  we 
must  not  forget  that  the  jury  before  whom  ho  pleaded  demanded 
tloquence  rather  than  profound  knowledge.  Tho  orations  to 
which  they  were  accustomed  wrere  laid  out  according  to  a  fixed 
rhetorical  plan,  the  plan  proposed  in  the  treatise  to  Herennius  and 
in  Cicero's  own  youthful  work,  the  De  Inventionc.  There  is  the 
introduction,  containing  the  preliminarv  statement  \>i  the  case,  and 


172  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  ethical  proof ;  the  body  of  the  speech,  the  argument,  and  the 
peroration  addressing  itself  to  the  passions  of  the  judge  Nc 
better  instance  is  found  of  this  systematic  treatment  than  the 
speech  for  Milo,1  declared  by  native  critics  to  be  faultless,  and  of 
which,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  we  give  a  succinct  analysis.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  he  has  a  bad  case.  He  commences 
with  a  few  introductory  remarks  intended  to  recommend  him- 
self and  conciliate  his  judges,  dilating  on  the  special  causes 
which  make  his  address  less  confident  than  usual,  and  claiming 
their  indulgence  for  it.  He  then  answers  certain  d  priori  ob- 
jections likely  to  be  offered,  as  that  no  homicide  deserves 
to  live,  which  is  refuted  by  the  legal  permission  to  kill  in  self- 
defence;  that  Milo's  act  had  already  been  condemned  by  the 
senate,  which  is  refuted  by  the  fact  that  a  majority  of  senators 
praised  it ;  that  Pompey  had  decided  the  question  of  law,  which 
is  refuted  by  his  permitting  a  trial  at  all,  which  he  would  not 
have  done  unless  a  legal  defence  could  be  entertained.  The 
objections  answered,  and  a  special  compliment  having  been  judi- 
ciously paid  to  the  presiding  judge,  he  proceeds  to  the  Expositio, 
or  statement  of  facts.  In  this  particular  case  they  were  by  no 
means  advantageous ;  consequently,  Cicero  shows  his  art  by  cloak- 
ing them  in  an  involved  narration  which,  while  apparently 
plausible,  is  in  reality  based  on  a  suppression  of  truth.  Having 
rapidly  disposed  of  these,  he  proceeds  to  sketch  the  line  of  defence 
with  its  several  successive  arguments.  He  declares  himself  about 
to  prove  that  so  far  from  being  the  aggressor,  Milo  did  but  defend 
himself  against  a  plot  laid  by  Clodius.  As  this  was  quite  a  new 
light  to  the  jury,  their  minds  must  be  prepared  for  it  by  persuasive 
grounds  of  probability.  He  first  shows  that  Clodius  had  strong 
reasons  for  wishing  to  be  rid  of  Milo,  Milo  on  the  contrary  had 
still  stronger  ones  for  not  wishing  to  be  rid  of  Clodius ;  he  next 
shows  that  Ciodius's  life  and  character  had  been  such  as  to  make 
assassination  a  natural  act  for  him  to  commit,  while  Milo  on  the 
contrary  had  always  refused  to  commit  violence,  though  he  had 
many  times  had  the  power  to  do  so ;  next,  that  time  and  place 
and  circumstances  favoured  Clodius,  but  were  altogether  against 
Milo,  some  plausible  objections  notwithstanding,  which  he  states 
with  consummate  art,  and  then  proceeds  to  demolish;  next,  that 
the  indifference  of  the  accused  to  the  crimes  laid  to  his  charge  is 

1  It  will  be  remembered  that  Milo  and  Clodius  had  encountered  eacli 
other  on  the  Appian  Road,  and  in  the  scuffle  that  ensued,  the  latter  had 
been  killed.  Cicero  tries  to  prove  that  Milo  was  not  the  aggressor,  but  that^ 
even  if  he  had  been,  he  would  have  been  justified  since  Clodius  was  a  pen 
nicious  citizen  dangerous  to  the  state. 


CRITICISM  OF  HIS  ORATORY.  173 

surely  incompatible  with  guilt;  and  lastly,  that  eten  if  his 
innocence  could  not  be  proved,  as  it  most  certainly  can,  still  he 
might  take  credit  to  himself  for  having  done  the  state  a  service  by 
destroying  one  of  its  worst  enemies.  And  then,  in  the  peroration 
that  follows,  he  rouses  the  passions  of  the  judges  by  a  glowing 
picture  of  Clodius's  guilt,  balanced  by  an  equally  glowing  one  of 
Milo's  virtues ;  he  shows  that  Providence  itself  had  intervened  to 
bring  the  sinful  career  of  Clodius  to  an  end,  and  sanctified  Milo 
by  making  him  its  instrument,  and  he  concludes  with  a  brilliant 
avowal  of  love  and  admiration  for  his  client,  for  whose  loss,  if  he 
is  to  be  condemned,  nothing  can  ever  console  him.  But  the  judges 
will  not  condemn  him ;  they  will  follow  in  the  path  pointed  out 
by  heaven,  and  restore  a  faithful  citizen  to  that  country  which  longs 
for  his  service. — Had  Cicero  but  had  the  courage  to  deliver  this 
speech,  there  can  be  scarcely  any  doubt  what  the  result  would  have 
been.  Neither  senate,  nor  judges,  nor  people,  ever  could  resist,  or 
ever  tried  to  resist,  the  impassioned  eloquence  of  their  great  orator. 
In  the  above  speech  the  argumentative  and  ethical  portions  are 
highly  elaborated,  but  the  descriptive  and  personal  are,  compara- 
tively speaking,  absent.  Yet  in  nothing  is  Cicero  more  conspicu- 
ous than  in  his  clear  and  lifelike  descriptions.  His  portraits  are 
photographic.  Whether  he  describes  the  money-loving  Chaerea 
with  his  shaven  eye-brows  and  head  reeking  with  cunning 
and  malice  j1  or  the  insolent  Verres,  lolling  on  a  litter  with  eight 
bearers,  like  an  Asiatic  despot,  stretched  on  a  bed  of  rose-leaves;2 
or  Vatinius,  darting  forward  to  speak,  his  eyes  starting  from  his 
head,  his  neck  swollen,  and  his  muscles  rigid  ;3  or  the  Gaulish  and 
Greek  witnesses,  of  whom  the  former  swagger  erect  across  the 
forum,4  the  latter  chatter  and  gesticulate  without  ever  looking  up  ;5 
we  see  in  each  case  the  master's  powerful  hand.  Other  descriptions 
are  longer  and  more  ambitious ;  the  confusion  of  the  Catilinarian 
conspirators  after  detection ; 6  the  character  of  Catiline ; 7  the 
debauchery  of  Antony  in  Varro's  villa;8  the  scourging  and  cruci- 
fixion of  Gavius;9  the  grim  old  Censor  Appius  frowning  on 
Clodia  his  degenerate  descendent;10  the  tissue  of  monstrous  crime 
which  fills  pago  after  page  of  the  Oluentius.11  These  are  p'ctures 
for  all  time ;  they  combine  the  poet's  eye  with  the  stern  spirit  of 
the  moralist.  His  power  of  description  is  equalled  by  the  readi- 
ness of  his  wit.  Raillery,  banter,  sarcasm,  jest,  irony  light  and 
grave,  the  whole  artillery  of  wit,  is  always  at  his  command ;  and 
though  to  our  taste  many  of  his  jokes  are  coarse,  others  dull,  and 

1  Rose.  Com.  7.      ■  In  Verr.  ii.  v.  11.     8  In  Vatin.  2.     *  Pro  Font.  11. 
■  Pro  Rabir.  Post.  13.      •  Cat.  iii.  3.      7  Pro  Coel.  3.      8  Phil,  v    41. 
•  iu  V<  rr.  v.  C5.  10  Pro  Coel.  6.    u  Pro  Cluent.  pass. 


174  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

others  unfair  or  in  bad  taste,  yet  the  Romans  were  never  tired  oi 
extolling  them.  These  are  varied  with  digressions  of  a  gi  aver  cast : 
philosophical  sentiments,  patriotic  allusions,  gentle  moralisings,  and 
rare  gems  of  ancient  legend,  succeed  each  other  in  the  kaleidoscope 
of  his  shifting  fancy,  whose  combinations  may  appear  irregular,  but 
are  generally  bound  together  by  chains  of  the  most  delicate  art 

His  chief  faults  are  exaggeration,  vanity,  and  an  inordinate  love 
of  words.  The  former  is  at  once  a  conscious  rhetorical  artifice, 
and  an  unconscious  effect  of  his  vehement  and  excitable  tempera- 
ment It  probably  did  not  deceive  his  hearers  any  more  than  it 
deceives  us.  His  vanity  is  more  deplorable ;  and  the  only  pallia- 
tion it  admits  is  the  fact  that  it  is  a  defect  which  rarely  goes  with 
a  bad  heart.  Had  Cicero  been  less  vain,  he  might  have  been 
more  ambitious  ;  as  it  was,  his  ridiculous  self-conceit  injured  no  one 
but  himself.  His  wordiness  is  of  all  his  faults  the  most  seductive 
and  the  most  conspicuous,  and  procured  for  him  even  in  his  life- 
time the  epithet  of  Asiatic.  He  himself  was  sensible  that  his 
periods  were  overloaded.  As  has  been  well  said,  he  leaves  nothing 
to  the  imagination.1  Later  critics  strongly  censured  him,  and 
both  Tacitus  and  Quintilian  think  it  necessary  to  assert  his  pre- 
eminence. His  wealth  of  illustration  chokes  the  idea,  as  creepers 
choke  the  forest  tree ;  both  are  beautiful  and  bright  with  flowers, 
but  both  injure  what  they  adorn. 

Nevertheless,  if  we  are  to  judge  his  oratory  by  its  effect  on  those 
for  whom  it  was  intended,  and  to  whom  it  was  addressed ;  as  the 
vehement,  gorgeous,  impassioned  utterance  of  an  Italian  speaking 
to  Italians  his  countrymen,  whom  he  knew,  whom  he  charmed, 
whom  he  mastered ;  we  shall  not  be  able  to  refuse  him  a  place  as 
equal  to  the  greatest  of  those  whose  eloquence  has  swayed  the 
destinies  of  the  world. 

We  now  turn  to  consider  Cicero  as  a  Philosopher,  in  which 
character  he  was  allowed  to  be  the  greatest  teacher  that  Rome  ever 
had,  and  has  descended  through  the  Middle  Ages  to  our  own  time 
with  his  authority,  indeed,  shaken,  but  his  popularity  scarcely 
diminished.  We  must  first  observe  that  philosophy  formed  no 
part  of  his  inner  and  real  life.  It  was  only  when  inactivity  in 
public  affairs  was  forced  upon  him  that  he  devoted  himself  to  its 
pursuit.  During  the  agitation  of  the  first  triumvirate,  he  composed 
the  De  Republica  and  De  T^egibus,  and  during  Caesar's  dictatorship 
and  the  consulship  of  Antony,  he  matured  the  great  works  of  his 
old  age.  But  the  moment  he  was  able  to  return  with  honour  to 
his  post,  he  threw  aside  philosophy,  and  devoted  himself  to  politics, 
thus  clearly  proving  that  he  regarded  it  as  a  solace  for  leisure  or  a 

1  Forsyth  ;  p.  544. 


his  piiu.GS0PHr.  17c 

refuge  from  misfortune,  rather  than  as  the  serious  business  c  f  life. 
The  system  that  would  alone  be  suitable  to  such  a  character  would 
be  a  sober  scepticism,  for  scepticism  in  thought  corresponds  exactly 
to  vacillation  in  conduct.  But  though  his  mind  inclined  to  scep- 
ticism, he  had  aspirations  far  higher  than  his  intellect  or"  his 
conduct  could  attain ;  in  his  noblest  moments  he  half  rises  to  the 
grand  Stoic  ideal  of  a  self-sufficient  and  all-wise  virtue.  But  he 
cannot  maintain  himself  at  that  height,  and  in  general  he  takes 
the  view  of  the  Academy  that  all  truth  is  but  a  question  of  more 
or  less  probability. 

To   understand  the   philosophy  of   Cicero,  it  is  necessary  to 
remember  both  his  own  mental  training,  and  the  condition  of 
those  for  whom  he  wrote.     He  himself  regarded  philosophy  as 
food  for  eloquence,  as  one  of  the  chief  ingredients  of  a  perfect 
orator.     And  his  own  mind,  which  by  nature  and  practice  had 
been  cast  in  the  oratorical  mould,  naturally  leaned  to  that  system 
which  best  admitted  of  presenting  truth  under  the  form  of  two 
competing  rhetorical  demonstrations.     His  readers,  too,  would  be 
most  attracted  by  this  form  of  truth.     He  did  not  write  for  the 
original  thinkers,  the  Catos,  the  Varros,  and  the  Scaevolas  ;x  he 
wrote  for  the  great  mass  of  intelligent  men,  men  of  the  world, 
whom  he  wished  to  interest  in  the  lofty  problems  of  which  philo- 
sophy treats.     He  therefore  above  all  things  strove  to  make  philo- 
sophy eloquent.     He  read  for  this  purpose  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
almost  all  the  great  masters  who  ruled  the  schools  in  his  day ;  but 
being  on  a  level  with  his  age  and  not  above  it,  he  naturally  turned 
rather  to  the  thinkers  nearest  his  own  time,  whose  clearer  treat- 
ment also  made  them  most  easily  understood.     These  were  chiefly 
Epicureans,  Stoics,  and  Academicians;   and   from  the  different 
placita  of  these  schools  he  selected  such  views  as  harmonised 
with  his  own  prepossessions,  but  neither  chained  himself  down  to 
any  special  doctrine,  nor  endeavoured  to  force  any  doctrine  of  his 
own  upon  others.     In  some  of  his  more  popular  works,  as  those 
on  political  science  and  on  moral  duties,2  he  does  not  employ  any 
strictness  of  method ;  but  in  his  more  systematic  treatises  he  both 
recognises  and  strives  to  attain  a  regular  process  of  investigation. 
We  see  this  in  the  Topica,  the  De  Finibus,  and  the  Tusculanae 
Disjwtationes,  in  all  of  which   he  was  greatly  assisted  by  the 
Academic  point  of  view  which  strove  to  reconcile  philosophy  with 
the  dictates  of  common  sense.     A  purely  speculative  ideal  such  as 

1  He  himself  quotes  with  approval  the  sentiment  of  Lucilius : 

nee  doctissimis; 
Manium  Persium  haec  legere  nolo;  Junium  Cong  am  vol*. 

•  De  Republica,  De  Lzgibus  and  De  Officii*. 


176  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

that  of  Aristotle  or  Plato  had  already  ceased  to  be  propounded 
even  by  the  Greek  systems ;  and  Roman  philosophy  carried  to  a 
much  more  thorough  development  the  practical  tendency  of  the 
later  Greek  schools.  In  the  Hortensius,  a  work  unfortunately 
lost,  which  he  intended  to  be  the  introduction  to  his  great  philo- 
Bophical  course,  he  removed  the  current  objections  to  the  study, 
and  showed  philosophy  to  be  the  only  comforter  in  affliction  and 
the  true  guide  of  life.  The  pursuit  of  virtue,  therefore,  being  the 
proper  end  of  wisdom,  such  speculations  only  should  be  pursued  as 
are  within  the  sphere  of  human  knowledge.  Nevertheless  he  is 
inconsistent  with  his  own  programme,  for  he  extends  his  investiga- 
tions far  beyond  the  limits  of  ethics  into  the  loftiest  problems 
which  can  exercise  the  human  mind.  Carried  away  by  the 
enthusiasm  which  he  has  caught  from  the  great  Greek  sages,  he 
asserts  in  one  place1  that  the  search  for  divine  truth  is  preferable 
even  to  the  duties  of  practical  life ;  but  that  is  an  isolated  state- 
ment. His  strong  Roman  instinct  calls  him  back  to  recognise  the 
paramount  claims  of  daily  life ;  and  he  is  nowhere  more  himself 
than  when  he  declares  that  every  one  would  leave  philosophy  to 
take  care  of  herself  at  the  first  summons  of  duty.2  This  subordi- 
nation of  the  theoretical  to  the  practical  led  him  to  confuse  in  a 
rhetorical  presentation  the  several  parts  of  philosophy,  and  it  seeks 
and  finds  its  justification  to  a  great  extent  in  the  endless  disputes 
in  which  in  every  department  of  thought  the  three  chief  schools 
were  involved.  Physics  (as  the  term  was  understood  in  his  day) 
seemed  to  him  the  most  mysterious  and  doubtful  portion  of  the 
whole.  A  knowledge  of  the  body  and  its  properties  is  difficult 
enough;  how  much  more  unattainable  is  a  knowledge  of  such 
entities  as  the  Deity  and  the  soul !  Those  who  pronounce  abso- 
lutely on  points  like  these  involve  themselves  in  the  most  inex- 
tricable contradictions.  While  they  declare  as  certainties  things 
that  obviously  differ  in  the  general  credence  they  meet  with,  they 
forget  that  certainty  does  not  admit  of  degrees,  whereas  probability 
does.  How  much  more  reasonable  therefore  to  regard  such  questions 
as  coming  within  the  sphere  of  the  probable,  and  varying  between 
the  highest  and  the  lowest  degrees  of  probability.3 

In  his  moral  theory  Cicero  shows  greater  decision.  He  is 
un wavering  in  his  repudiation  of  the  Epicurean  view  that  virtue 
and  pleasure  are  one,4  and  generally  adheres  to  that  of  the  other 
schools,  who  here  agree  in  declaring  that  virtue  consists  in 
following  nature.  But  here  occurs  the  difficulty  as  to  what 
place  is  to  be  assigned  to  external  goods.     At  one  time  he  inclines 

*  N.  D.  ii.  1,  fin.  •  De  Off.  i.  43.  »  See  Acad.  Post.  ii.  41 

♦DeOff.  i.  2.  •Defin.  ii.  12. 


HIS  PHILOSOPHY.  177 

to  the  lofty  view  of  the  Stoic  that  virtue  is  in  itself  sufficient  for 
happiness ;  at  another,  struck  by  its  inapplicability  to  practical 
life,  he  thinks  this  less  true  than  the  Peripatetic  theory,  which 
takes  account  of  external  circumstances,  and  though  considering 
them  as  inappreciable  when  weighed  in  the  balance  against  virtue, 
nevertheless  admits  that  within  certain  limits  they  are  necessary 
to  a  complete  life.  Thus  it  appears  that  both  in  physics  and 
morals  he  doubted  the  reality  of  the  great  abstract  conceptions  of 
reason,  and  came  back  to  the  presentations  of  sense  as  at  all 
events  the  most  indisputably  probable.  This  would  lead  us  to 
infer  that  he  rested  upon  the  senses  as  the  ultimate  criterion  of 
truth.  But  if  he  adopts  them  as  a  criterion  at  all,  he  does  so  with 
great  reservations.  He  allows  the  senses  indeed  the  power  of 
judging  betwen  sweet  and  bitter,  near  and  distant,  and  the  like, 
but  he  never  allows  them  to  determine  what  is  good  and  what  is 
evil.1  And  similarly  he  allows  the  intellect  the  power  of  judg- 
ment on  genera  and  species,  but  he  does  not  deny  that  it  some- 
times spins  out  problems  which  it  is  wholly  unable  to  solve.2 
Since  therefore  neither  the  senses  nor  the  intellect  are  capable  of 
supplying  an  infallible  criterion,  we  must  reject  the  Stoic  doctrine 
that  there  are  certain  sensations  so  forcible  as  to  produce  an  irre- 
sistible conviction  of  their  truth.  For  these  philosophers  ascribe 
the  full  possession  of  this  conviction  to  the  sage  alone,  and  he  is 
not,  nor  can  he  be,  one  of  the  generality  of  mank  !n<L  Hence 
Cicero,  who  writes  for  these,  gives  his  opinion  that  there  are 
certain  sensuous  impressions  in  which  from  their  permanence  and 
force  a  man  may  safely  trust,  though  he  cannot  assert  them  to  be 
absolutely  true.3  This  liberal  and  popular  doctrine  he  is  aware 
will  be  undermined  by  the  absolute  sceptism  of  the  New  Academy;4 
but  he  is  willing  to  risk  this,  and  to  put  his  view  forward  as  the 
best  possible  approximation  to  truth. 

With  these  ultimate  principles  Cicero,  in  his  De  Natura  Deorum, 
approaches  the  questions  of  the  existence  of  God  and  of  the  human 
soul.  The  bias  of  his  own  nobler  nature  led  him  to  hold  fast 
these  two  vital  truths,  but  he  is  fully  aware  that  in  attempting  to 
prove  them  the  Stoics  have  used  arguments  which  are  not  convinc- 
ing.    In  the  Tusculan  disputations5  he  acknowledges  the  necessity 

1  De  Fin.  ii.  12. 

8  E.g.  the  sophisms  of  the  Liar,  the  Sorites,  and  those  on  Motion. 

8  Ac.  Post.  20. 

4  De  Leg.  i.  13  fin.  Ferturbatricem  autem  harum  omnium  reruni  Aca- 
demian  hanc  ab  Arcesila  et  Carneade  recentem  exoremus  ut  sileat.  Nam  si 
invascrit  in  haec,  quae  satis  scite  nobis  instructa  et  composita  videntur, 
mmias  edet  rninas.     Quam  quidem  ego  placare  cupio,  submovere  non  audeo. 

*  i.  28. 


178  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

of  assuming  one  supreme  Creator  or  Ruler  of  all  things,  endued 
with  eternal  motion  in  himself ;  and  he  connects  this  view  with 
the  affinity  which  he  everywhere  assumes  to  subsist  between  the 
human  and  divine  spirit.  With  regard  to  the  essence  of  the 
human  soul  he  has  no  clear  views;  but  he  strenuously  asserts  its 
existence  and  phenomenal  manifestation  analogous  to  those  of  the 
Deity,  and  is  disposed  to  ascribe  to  it  immortality  also.1  Free 
Will  he  considers  to  be  a  truth  of  peculiar  importance,  probably 
from  the  practical  consideration  that  on  it  responsibility  and, 
therefore,  morality  itself  ultimately  rest. 

From  this  brief  abstract  it  will  be  seen  that  Cicero's  speculative 
beliefs  were  to  a  great  extent  determined  by  his  moral  convictions, 
and  by  his  strong  persuasion  of  the  dignity  of  human  nature. 
This  leads  him  to  combat  with  vigour,  and  satirise  with  merciless 
wit,  the  Epicurean  theory  of  life ;  and  while  his  strong  common 
sense  forbids  him  to  accept  the  Stoic  doctrine  in  all  its  defiant 
harshness,  he  strengthens  the  Peripatetic  view,  to  which  he  on  the 
whole  leans,  by  introducing  elements  drawn  from  it  The  peculiar 
combination  which  he  thus  strives  to  form  takes  its  colour  from 
his  own  character  and  from  the  terms  of  his  native  language.  Tho 
Greeks  declare  that  the  beautiful  (to  koXov)  is  good ;  Cicero  declarer 
that  the  honourable  (honestum)  alone  is  good.  Where,  therefore, 
the  Greeks  had  spoken  of  to  koAov,  and  we  should  speak  of  moral 
good,  Cicero  speaks  of  honestum,  and  founds  precisely  similar  argu- 
ments upon  it.  This  conception  implies,  besides  self-regarding 
rectitude,  the  praise  of  others  and  the  rewards  of  glory,  and  hence 
is  eminently  suited  to  the  public-spirited  men  for  whom  he  wrote. 
To  it  is  opposed  the  base  (twpe),  that  disgraceful  evil  which  all 
good  men  would  avoid.  But  as  his  whole  moral  theory  is  built 
on  observation  as  much  as  on  reading  or  reflection,  he  never 
stretches  a  rale  too  tight ;  he  makes  allowance  for  overpowering 
circumstances,  for  the  temper  and  bent  of  the  individual.  Applic 
able  to  all  who  are  engaged  in  an  honourable  career  with  the 
stimulus  of  success  before  them,  his  ethics  were  especially  suited 
to  the  noble  families  of  Rome  to  whom  the  approval  of  their  con- 
science was  indeed  a  necessity  of  happiness,  but  the  approval  of 
those  whom  they  respected  was  at  least  equally  so.  ■ 

The  list  of  his  philosophical  works  is  interesting  and  may  well 
be  given  here.     The  Paradoxa  (written  46  B.C.),2  explains  certain 

1  Tusc.  i.  12,  a  very  celebrated  and  beautiful  passage. 

■  The  Paradoxes  are — (1)  on  \x6vov  rb  kolKov  b.ya.Qo'p,  (2)  tin  avrdpK-nsrjapeT^ 
wpbs  tuZatfxoviuv,  (3)  fin  t<ra  to.  afiapri)ixara  Kal  rot  traropSu/jLara,  (4)  $n  xas 
6.<ppuv  fiaiveiat.  We  remember  the  treatment  of  this  in  Horace  (S.  ii.  3).  (5) 
bn  ftSvos  A  ao(pbs  4\tiQtpbs  «oi  vis  &<ppmr  Sot/Aor,  (6)  tri  fioyos  6  ffo<f>bi 

*\QV<TlOt 


LIST  OF  HIS  PHILOSOPHICAL  WORKS.  179 

paradoxes  of  the  Stoics.  The  Gonsolatio  (45  B.C.)  was  written 
soon  after  the  death  of  liis  daughter  Tullia,  whom  he  tenderly 
loved.  It  is  lost  with  the  exception  of  a  few  fragments.  The 
same  fate  has  befallen  the  Hortensius,  which  would  have  been  an 
extremely  interesting  treatise.  The  Definibus  bonorum  et  malorum^ 
in  five  books,  was  composed  in  45  b.c.  In  the  first  part  M.  Manlius 
Torquatus  expounds  the  Epicurean  views,  which  Cicero  confutes 
(books  i.  ii.) ;  in  the  second,  Cato  acts  as  champion  of  the  Stoics, 
who  are  shown  by  Cicero  to  be  by  no  means  so  exclusive  as  they 
profess  (books  iii.  iv.) ;  in  the  third  and  last  Piso  explains  the 
theories  of  the  Academy  and  the  Lyceum.  The  Academica  is 
divided  into  two  editions ;  the  first,  called  Lucullus,  is  still  extant ; 
the  second,  dedicated  to  Yarro,  exists  in  a  considerable  portion. 
The  Tusculan  Disputations,  Timaeus  (now  lost),  and  the  Dt 
Natura  Deor?im,  were  all  composed  in  the  same  year  (45  b.c). 
The  latter  is  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue  between  Yelleius  the  Epicu- 
rean, Balbus  the  Stoic,  and  Cotta  the  Academic,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  held  in  77  b.c.  The  following  year  were  produced 
Laelius  or  De  Amicitia,  De  Divinatione,  an  important  essay,  De 
Fato,  Cato  Major  or  De  Senectute,  De  Gloria  (now  lost),  De 
Officiis,  an  excellent  moral  treatise  addressed  to  his  son,  and  De 
Virtutibus,  which  with  the  Oeconomics  and  Protagoras  (transla- 
tions from  the  Greek),  and  the  De  Auguriis  (51  b.c.  1)  complete 
the  list  of  his  strictly  philosophical  works.  Political  science  is 
treated  by  him  in  the  De  Republica,  of  which  the  first  two  books 
remain  in  a  tolerably  complete  state,  the  other  four  only  in  frag- 
ments,1 and  in  the  De  Legibus,  of  which  three  books  only  remain. 
The  former  was  commenced  in  the  year  54  b.c.  but  not  published 
until  two  years  later,  at  which  time  probably  the  latter  treatise  was 
written,  but  apparently  never  published.  While  in  these  works 
the  form  of  dialogue  is  borrowed  from  the  Greek,  the  argument 
is  strongly  coloured  by  his  patriotic  sympathies.  He  proves  that 
the  Roman  polity,  which  fuses  in  a  happy  combination  the  three 
elements  of  monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democracy,  is  the  best 
suited  for  organic  development  and  external  dominion;  and  he 
treats  many  constitutional  and  legal  questions  with  eloquence  and 
insight  Our  loss  of  the  complete  text  of  these  books  is  to  bo 
deplored  rather  on  account  of  the  interesting  information  and 
numerous  allusions  they  contained,  than  from  their  value  as  an 
exposition  of  the  principles  of  law  or  government.  The  style  ia 
highly  elaborated,  and  its  even  flow  is  broken  by  beautiful  quota- 
tions from  the  old  poets,  especially  the  Annals  of  Ennius. 

1  A  well-known  fragment  of  the  sixth  book,  the  Somnium  JScipionis,  is  pi» 
gerred  in  Macrobius. 


180  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

The  rhetorical  works  of  Cicero  are  both  numerous  and  impor 
tant.  A  practical  science,  of  which  the  principles  were  of  a  nature 
intelligible  to  all,  and  needed  only  a  clear  exposition  and  the 
authority  of  personal  experience,  was,  of  all  literary  subjects,  the 
best  suited  to  bring  out  the  rich  qualities  of  Cicero's  mind.  Ac- 
cordingly we  find  that  even  in  his  early  manhood  he  attempted  to 
propound  a  theory  of  oratory  in  the  unfinished  work  De  Inventions:, 
or  Rlietorica,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  This  was  compiled  partly 
from  the  Greek  authorities,  partly  from  the  treatise  Ad  Herennium, 
which  we  have  noticed  under  the  last  period.  But  he  himself  was 
quite  conscious  of  its  deficiencies,  and  alludes  to  it  more  than  once 
as  an  unripe  and  youthful  work.  The  fruits  of  his  mature  judg- 
ment were  preserved  in  the  De  Oratore,  a  dialogue  between  some 
of  the  great  orators  of  former  days,  in  three  books,  written  55  b.  a 
The  chief  speakers  are  Crassus  and  Antonius,  and  we  infer  from 
Cicero's  identifying  himself  with  the  former's  views  that  he 
regarded  him  on  the  whole  as  the  higher  orator.  The  next  work 
in  the  series  is  the  invaluable  Brutus  sive  de  clans  Oratoribus,  a 
vast  mine  of  information  on  the  history  of  the  Eoman  bar,  and  the 
progress  of  oratorical  excellence.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  Tusculan 
villa,  where  Cicero  meets  some  of  his  younger  friends  shortly  after 
the  death  of  Hortensius.  In  his  criticism  of  orators,  past  and 
present,  he  pays  a  touching  tribute  to  the  character  and  splendid 
talents  of  his  late  rival  and  at  the  same  time  intimate  friend,  and 
laments,  what  he  foresaw  too  well,  the  speedy  downfall  of  Eoman 
eloquence.1  All  these  works  of  his  later  years  are  tinged  with  a 
deep  sadness  which  lends  a  special  charm  to  their  graceful  periods  ; 
his  political  despondency  drove  him  to  seek  solace  in  literary 
thought,  but  he  could  not  so  far  lose  himself  even  among  his 
beloved  worthies  of  the  past  as  to  throw  off  the  cloud  of  glo^m 
that  softened  but  did  not  obscure  his  genius.  The  Orator  ad  M. 
Brutum  is  intended  to  give  us  his  ideal  of  what  a  perfect  orator 
should  be ;  its  treatment  is  brilliant  but  imperfect.  The  Partiti- 
i*i:es  Oratoriae,  or  Catechism  of  the  Art  of  Oratory,  in  questions 
and  answers,  belongs  to  the  educational  sphere;  and,  after  the 
example  of  Cato's  books,  is  addressed  to  his  son.  The  Topica, 
written  in  44  b.c,  contains  an  account  of  the  invention  of  argu- 
ments, and  belongs  partly  to  logic,  partly  to  rhetoric.  The  last 
work  of  this  class  is  the  De  Optimo  Genere  Oratorum,  which 
stands  as  a  preface  to  the  crown  speeches  of  Demosthenes  and 
Aeachines,  which  Cicero  had  translated.     The  chief  interest  con- 

1  Latranb  homines,  rum  loquuntur  is  his  strong  expression,  and  in  anothei 
place  he  calls  the  modern  speakers  clamatores  rum  oratores. 


HIS  LLTTERS.  18i 

tfists  in  the  discussion  it  raises  on  the  comparative  merits  of  the 
Attic  and  .Asiatic  styles. 

In  all  these  works  there  reigns  throughout  a  magnificence  of 
language  and  a  calm  grandeur  of  tone  well  befitting  the  literary 
representative  of  the  "  assembly  of  kings."  Nowhere  perhaps 
in  all  literature  can  be  found  compositions  in  which  so  many 
sources  of  permanent  attraction  meet;  dignity,  sweetness,  an 
inexpressible  and  majestic  eloquence,  drawing  the  reader  along 
until  he  seems  lost  in  a  sea  of  grand  language  and  lofty  thoughts, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  sympathetic  human  feeling,  a  genial  desire 
to  persuade,  a  patient  perseverance  in  illustration,  an  inimitable 
clearness  of  expression ;  admirable  qualities,  whose  rich  harmonious 
combination  is  perhaps  incompatible  with  the  profoundest  philo- 
sophic wisdom,  but  which  have  raised  Cicero  to  take  the  lead 
among  those  great  popular  teachers  who  have  expressed,  and  by 
expressing  furthered,  the  growing  enlightenment  of  mankind. 

The  letters  of  Cicero  are  among  the  most  interesting  remains  of 
antiquity.  The  ancients  paid  more  attention  to  letter- writing  than 
we  do;  they  thought  their  friends  as  worthy  as  the  public  of 
well-weighed  expressions  and  a  careful  style.  But  no  other 
writer  who  has  come  down  to  us  can  be  compared  with  Cicero,  for 
the  grace,  the  naturalness,  and  the  unreserve  of  his  communications. 
Seneca  and  Pliny,  Walpole  and  Pope,  wrote  for  the  world,  not  for 
their  correspondents.  Among  the  moderns  Mme.  de  Sevigne 
approaches  most  nearly  to  th3  excellences  of  Cicero. 

In  the  days  when  newspapers  were  unknown  a  Roman  provin- 
cial governor  depended  for  information  solely  upon  private  letters. 
It  was  of  the  utmost  importance  that  he  should  hear  from  the 
capital  and  be  able  to  convey  his  own  messages  to  it.  Yet,  unless 
he  was  able  to  maintain  couriers  of  his  own,  it  was  almost  impos- 
sible to  send  or  receive  news.  In  such  cases  he  had  to  depend  on 
the  fidelity  of  chance  messengers,  a  precarious  ground  of  confi- 
dence. We  find  that  all  the  great  nobles  retained  in  their  service 
one  or  more  of  these  tabellarii.  Cicero  was  often  disquieted  by 
the  thought  that  his  letters  might  have  miscarried;  at  times  he 
dared  not  write  at  all,  so  great  was  the  risk  of  accident  or  foul 
play. 

Letters  were  sometimes  written  on  parchment  with  a  reed1  dipped 
in  ink,2  but  far  more  frequently  on  waxen  tablets  with  the  stilus. 
Wax  was  preferred  to  other  material,  as  admitting  a  swifter  hand 
and  an  easier  erasure.  When  Cicero  wrote,  his  ideas  came  so  fast 
that  his  handwriting  became  illegible.    His  brother  more  than  once 

1  Calamus  *  Atramentum. 


182  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

complainsof  thisdefect.  Wehearof  his  writing  three  letters  to  Atticui 
in  one  day.  Familiar  missives  like  these  were  penned  at  any  spare 
moment  during  the  day's  "business,  at  the  senate  during  a  dull  speech, 
at  the  forum  when  witnesses  were  being  examined,  at  the  bath,  or 
oftener  still  between  the  courses  at  dinner.  Thrown  off  in  a 
moment  while  the  impression  that  dictated  them  was  still  fresh, 
they  bear  witness  to  every  changing  mood,  and  lay  bare  the  inmost 
soul  of  the  writer.  But,  as  a  rule,  few  Romans  were  at  the  pains 
to  write  their  letters  with  their  own  hand.  They  delegated  this 
mechanical  process  to  slaves.1  It  seems  strange  that  nothing 
->.milar  to  our  running  hand  should  have  been  invented  among 
them.  Perhaps  it  was  owing  to  the  abundance  of  these  humble 
aids  to  labour.  From  the  constant  use  of  amanuenses  it  often 
resulted  that  no  direct  evidence  of  authorship  existed  beyond  the 
appended  seal.  When  Antony  read  before  the  senate  a  private 
letter  from  Cicero,  the  orator  replied,  "  What  madness  it  is  to 
bring  forward  as  a  witness  against  me  a  letter  of  which  I  might 
with  perfect  impunity  deny  the  genuineness."  The  seal,  stamped 
with  the  signet-ring,  was  of  wax,  and  laid  over  the  fastening  of 
the  thread  which  bound  the  tablets  together.  Hence  the  many 
ingenious  devices  for  obliterating,  softening,  or  imitating  the 
impression,  which  are  so  aften  alluded  to  by  orators  and  satirists. 
Many  of  the  more  important  letters,  such  as  Cicero's  to 
Lentulus,  that  of  Quintus  to  Cicero,  &c.  were  political  pamphlets, 
which,  after  they  had  done  their  work,  were  often  published,  and 
met  with  a  ready  sale.  It  is  impossible  to  ascertain  approximately 
the  amount  of  copying  that  went  on  in  Rome,  but  it  was  probably 
far  less  than  is  generally  supposed.  There  is  nothing  so  cramping 
to  the  inventive  faculty  as  the  existence  of  slave  labour.  How  else 
can  we  account  for  the  absence  of  any  machinery  for  multiplying 
copies  of  documents,  an  inconvenience  which,  in  the  case  of  the 
acta  diurna,  as  well  as  of  important  letters,  must  have  been  keenly 
felt?  Even  shorthand  and  cipher,  though  known,  were  rarely 
practised.  Caesar,2  however,  used  them ;  but  in  many  points  he 
was  beyond  his  age.  In  America,  where  labour  is  refractory, 
mechanical  substitutes  for  it  are  daily  being  invented.  A  calcula- 
tiig  machine,  and  a  writing  machine,  which  not  only  multiplies 
but  forms  the  original  copy,  are  inventions  so  simple  as  to  indicate 
that  it  was  want  of  enterprise  rather  than  of  ingenuity  which  made 
the  Romans  content  with  such  an  imperfect  apparatus. 

1  Called  Librarii  or  A  manu. 

*  Caesar  generally  used  as  his  cipher  the  substitution  of  d  for  a,  and  so  ot 
throughout  the  alphabet.  It  seems  strange  that  so  extremely  simple  • 
device  should  have  served  his  purpose, 


HIS  LETTERS.  183 

To  write  a  letter  well  one  must  have  the  desire  to  please.  Thi» 
Cn*iTo  possessed  to  an  almost  feminine  extent.  He  thirsted  foi 
the  approbation  of  the  good,  and  when  he  could  not  get  that  h« 
put  up  with  the  applause  of  the  many.  And  thus  his  letters  are  full 
of  that  heartiness  and  vigour  which  comes  from  the  determination 
to  do  everything  he  tries  to  do  well.  They  have  besides  the  most 
perfect  and  unmistakable  reality.  Every  foible  is  confessed;  every 
passing  thought,  even  such  as  one  would  rather  not  confess  even 
to  oneself,  is  revealed  and  recorded  to  his  friend.  It  is  from  these 
letters  to  a  great  extent  that  Cicero  has  been  so  severely  judged. 
He  stands,  say  his  critics,  self-condemned.  This  is  true;  but  it  is 
equally  true  that  the  ingenuity  which  pieces  together  a  mosaic  out 
of  these  scattered  fragments  of  evidence,  and  labels  it  the  character 
of  Cicero,  is  altogether  misapplied.  One  man  may  reveal  every- 
thing ;  another  may  reveal  nothing ;  our  opinion  in  either  case 
must  be  based  on  the  inferences  of  common  sense  and  experience 
of  the  world,  for  neither  of  such  persons  is  a  witness  to  be  trusted. 
Weakness  and  inconsistency  are  visible  indeed  in  all  Cicero's  letters ; 
but  who  can  imagine  Caesar  or  Crassus  writing  such  letters  at  all  \ 
The  perfect  unreserve  which  gives  them  their  charm  and  their 
value  for  us  is  also  the  highest  possible  testimony  to  the  upright- 
ness of  their  author. 

The  collection  comprises  a  great  variety  of  subjects  and  a  con- 
siderable number  of  correspondents.  The  most  important  are 
those  to  Atticus,  which  were  already  published  in  the  time  of 
Nepos.  Other  larqe  volumes  existed,  of  which  only  one,  that 
entitled  ad  Familiares  has  come  down  entire  to  us.  Like  the 
volume  to  Atticus,  it  consists  of  sixteen  books,  extending  from  the 
year  after  his  consulship  until  that  of  his  death.  The  collection 
tvas  made  by  Tiro,  Cicero's  freedman,  after  his  death,  and  was 
perhaps  the  earliest  of  the  series.  A  small  collection  of  letters  to 
his  brother  (ad  Quintum  Fratrem),  in  six  books,  still  remains,  and 
a  correspondence  between  Cicero  and  Brutus  in  two  books.  The 
former  were  written  between  the  years  60  and  54  b.c.  the  latter 
in  the  period  subsequent  to  the  death  of  Caesar.  The  letters  to 
Atticus  give  us  information  on  all  sorts  of  topics,  political,  pecuni- 
ary, personal,  literary.  Everything  that  occupied  Cicero's  mind  is 
spoken  of  with  freedom,  for  Atticus,  though  cold  and  prudent,  had 
the  rare  gift  of  drawing  others  out.  This  quality,  as  well  as  hia 
prudence,  is  attested  by  Cornelius  Nepos;  and  we  observe  that  when 
he  advised  Cicero  his  counsel  was  almost  always  wise  and  right. 
He  sustained  him  in  his  adversity,  when  heart-broken  and  helpless 
he  contemplated,  but  lacked  courage  to  commit  suicide ;  and  he 
sympathised  with  his  success,  as  well  as  aided  him  in  a  more  taw 


184  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

gible  sense  with  the  resources  of  his  vast  fortune.  Among  th* 
many  things  discussed  in  the  letters  we  are  struck  by  the  total 
absence  of  the  philosophical  and  religious  questions  which  in  other 
places  he  describes  as  his  greatest  delight.  Religion,  as  we  under- 
stand it,  had  no  place  in  his  heart.  If  we  did  not  possess  the 
Jetters,  if  we  judged  only  by  his  dialogues  and  his  orations,  we 
should  have  imagined  him  deeply  interested  in  all  that  concerned 
the  national  faith ;  but  we  see  that  in  his  genuine  moments  he 
never  gave  it  a  thought.  Politics,  letters,  art,  his  own  fame,  and 
the  success  of  his  party,  such  are  the  points  on  which  he  loves  to 
dwell.  But  he  is  also  most  communicative  on  domestic  matters, 
and  shows  the  tenderest  family  feeling.  To  his  wife,  until  the 
unhappy  period  of  his  divorce,  to  his  brother,  to  his  unworthy  son, 
but  above  all  to  his  daughter,  his  beloved  Tulliola,  he  pours  forth 
all  the  warmth  of  a  deep  affection  ;  and  even  his  freedman  Tiro 
comes  in  for  a  share  of  kindly  banter  which  shows  the  friendly 
footing  on  which  the  great  man  and  his  dependant  stood.  Cicero 
was  of  all  men  the  most  humane.  While  accepting  slavery  as  an 
institution  of  his  ancestors,  he  did  all  he  could  to  make  its  burden 
lighter ;  he  conversed  with  his  slaves,  assisted  them,  mourned  their 
death,  and,  in  a  word,  treated  them  as  human  beings.  We  learn 
from  the  letters  that  in  this  matter,  and  in  another  of  equal  import- 
ance, the  gladiatorial  shows,  Cicero  was  far  ahead  of  the  feeling  of 
his  time.  When  he  listened  to  his  heart,  it  always  led  him  right. 
And  if  it  led  him  above  all  things  to  repose  complete  confidence 
on  his  one  intimate  friend,  that  only  draws  us  to  him  the  more ; 
he  felt  like  Bacon  that  a  crowd  is  not  company,  and  faces  are  but 
a  gallery  of  pictures,  and  talk  is  but  a  tinkling  cymbal,  where 
there  is  no  love. 

It  only  remains  very  shortly  to  mention  his  poetry.  He  him- 
self knew  that  he  had  not  the  poetic  afflatus,  but  his  immense 
facility  of  style  which  made  it  as  easy  for  him  to  vyite  in  verse  as 
in  prose,  and  his  desire  to  rival  the  Greeks  in  every  department  of 
composition,  tempted  him  to  essay  his  wings  in  various  flights  of 
song.  We  have  mentioned  his  poem  on  Marius  and  those  on  his 
consulship  and  times,  which  pleased  himself  best  and  drew  forth 
from  others  the  greatest  ridicule.  He  wrote  also  versions  from  the 
Iliad,  of  which  he  quotes  several  in  various  works ;  heroic  poems 
called  Halcyone  and  Cimon,  an  elegy  called  Tamelasi is,1  a  Libelltis 
(ocularis,  about  which  we  have  no  certain  information,  and  various 

1  This  is  Servius's  spelling.  Others  read  Temelastis,  or  Talemgais.  Orelli 
thinks  perhaps  the  title  may  been  rk  iv  4\d<rci  (Taenclasi,  corrupted  to 
Tamdastis)  i.e.  de  profectione  sua,  about  which  he  tells  us  in  the  first 

Philippic. 


HIS  SUCCESSORS.  185 

epigrams  to  Tiro,  Caninius,  and  others.  It  will  be  necessary  to 
refer  to  some  of  these  works  on  a  future  page.  We  shall  there- 
fore pass  them  by  here,  and  conclude  the  chapter  with  a  short 
notice  of  the  principal  orators  who  were  younger  contemporaries 
of  Cicero. 

Coelius,  with  whom  Cicero  was  often  brought  into  relations,  was 
a  quick,  polished,  and  sometimes  lofty  speaker;1  Calidius  a 
delicate  and  harmonious  one.  On  one  occasion  when  Calidius 
was  accusing  a  man  of  conspiring  against  his  life,  he  pleaded 
with  such  smoothness  and  languor,  that  Cicero,  who  was  for  the 
defence,  at  once  gained  his  cause  by  the  argumentum  ad 
hominem.  Tu  istuc  M.  Calidi  nisi  finger es  sic  ageres  ?  prae- 
sertim  cum  ista  eloquentia  alienorum  hominum  pericula 
defendere  acerrime  soleas,  tuum  negligeres?  Ubi  dolor  f  ubi 
ardor  animi,  qui  etiam  ex  infantium  ingeniis  elicere  voces  ei 
querelas  solet  ?  Nulla  perturbatio  animi,  nulla  corporis :  from 
nan  percussa,  non  femur ;  pedis,  quod  minimum  est,  nulla  sup- 
plosio.  Itaque  tantum  abfuit  ut  imflammares  animos  nostros, 
somnum  isto  loco  vix  tenebamus.2  Curio  he  describes  as  bold  and 
flowing ;  Calvus  from  affectation  of  Attic  purity,  as  cold,  cautious, 
and  jejune.  His  dry,  sententious  style,  to  which  Brutus  also 
inclined,  was  a  reaction  from  the  splendour  of  Cicero,  a  splendour 
which  men  like  these  could  never  hope  to  reach ;  and  perhaps  it 
was  better  that  they  should  reject  all  ornament  rather  than  mis- 
apply it.  It  seems  that  after  Cicero  oratory  had  lost  the  fountain 
of  its  life ;  he  responded  so  perfectly  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
popular  taste  and  the  possibilities  of  the  time,  that  after  him  no 
new  theory  of  eloquence  could  be  produced,  while  to  improve 
upon  his  practice  was  evidently  hopeless.  Thus  the  reaction  that 
comes  after  literary  perfection  conspired  with  the  dawn  of  free- 
dom to  make  Cicero  the  last  as  well  as  the  greatest  of  those  who 
deserved  the  name  of  orator ;  and  we  acknowledge  the  justice  of 
the  poet's  epigram,3  questioned  as  it  was  at  the  time. 


1  Brut.  75.  2  Brut.  80. 

*  Sextilius  Eaa,  a  poet  of  Corduba,    The  story  is  told  in  Seneca,  Suae,  ri 


186 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


APPENDIX. 


Pxtry  of  Cicero. 

The  poeins  of  Cicero  are  of  con- 
siderable importance  to  the  student 
of  Latin  versification.  His  great 
facility  and  formal  polish  made  him 
successful  in  producing  a  much  more 
finished  and  harmonious  cadence 
than  had  before  been  attained. 
Coming  between  Ennius  and  Lucre- 
tius, and  evidently  studied  by 
the  latter,  he  is  an  important 
link  in  metrical  development.  We 
propose  in  this  note  merely  to  give 
some  examples  of  his  versification 
that  the  student  may  judge  for  him- 
self, and  compare  them  with  those 
of  Lucretius,  Catullus,  and  Virgil. 
They  are  quoted  from  the  edition  of 
Orelli(vol.  iv.  p.  0112  sqq.). 

From  the  Marius  (Cic.  de  Less.  I. 
i.  §2): 

••  Hie  lovis  altisoni  subito  pinnata  satelles 
Arboris  e  trunco  serpentis  saucia  moron 
Subrigit,  ipsa  feris  transfigens  unguibus, 

anguem 
Semianimum    et   varia   graviter   cervice 

micantem, 
Quern  sp  intorquentem  lanians  rostroque 

cruentans, 
lam  sat jata  animos,  iam  duros  ulta  dolores, 
Abiecit  ecflantem  et  lacera<  urn  adfligit  in 

unda, 
Beque  obitu  a  solia  nitidos  convertit  ad 

ortus. 
Hano    ubi   praepetibus   pen n  is   lapstique 

vo'antem 
Conspexit  Mavius,  divini  numinis  augur, 
Faustaque  signa  suae  laudis    reditusque 

notavir, 
Partibus  intonuit  caeli  pater  ipse  sinistris. 
Sic  aquilae  clarum  firmavit  Iuppiteromen." 

Praises  of  himself,  from  the  poem  on 
his  consulship  (Div.  I.  ii.  §  17  sqq.) : 

*  Haec    tardata    diu    species    mulrumque 

morata 
Consulete  tandem  celsa  est  in  sede  locata, 
Atque  una  fixi  ac  signati  tcmporii  hora, 
Iuppiter  excelsa cl.nabat  seeptra  columna; 
Et  clades  ]ia  nue  flamma  ferroque  parata 
Vocibus  Ailobrogum  patribus  populoque 

patebat. 
Rite  igitur  veterca  quorum  monumenta 

tenet  is, 
Qui   populoa   urbuque   modo  ac  virtute 

regebant, 
Bite  et  iam  veatri  quorum  pietasque  fldesque 
Piaestitit  ac  longe  vicit  sapientia  cunctos 
Praecipue  coluere  vigenti  numine  divos. 
Haec  adeo  penitus  cura  videri  sagaci 
Otia  qui  studiis  laeti  tenuere  decoris, 
Inque    Academia     urobrifera    nitidoque 

Lyceo 


Fuderunt  claras  fecundi  pectorw  arrii» 
E  quibus  ereptum  primo  iam  a  flore  ia 

ventae, 
Te  patria  in  media  virtutum  mole  locavit. 
Tu  tamen  anxiferas  curas  requiete  relaxant 
Quod  patriae    vacat  id  studiis  nobisque 

dedisti." 

We  append  some  verses  by  Quintus 
Cicero,  who  the  orator  declared  would 
make  a  better  poet  than  himself. 
They  are  on  the  twelve  constellations, 
a  well-worn  but  apparently  attactive 
subject : 

44  Flumtna  verna  cient  obscuro  lumine  Piscea, 
Curriculumque   Aries    aequat    noctisquo 

dieque, 
Cornua  quem  comunt  florum  praenuntia 

Tauri, 
Aridaque     aestatis     Gemini     primordia 

pandunt, 
Longaque  iam  minuit  praeclarus  lumina 

Cancer, 
Languitic;sque    Leo    proflat    ferus    ore 

calores. 
Post  modicum  qnatiens  Virgo  fugat  orta 

vapor em. 
Autumni  reserat  portas  aequatque  dinrna 
Tempora  nocturnis  disperso  sidere  Libia, 
Et  fetos  ramos  denudat  flamma  Nepal. 
Pigra  sagittipotens  iaculatur  frigora  terris. 
Bruma  gelu  glacians  iubare  spirat  Capri- 

comi: 
Quam  sequitur  nebulas  rorana  liquor  altua 

Aquari: 
Tanta  supra  circaque  vigent  ubi  flumina. 

Mundi 
At  dextra  laevaque  cict  rota  fulgida  Solis 
Mobile  curriculum,  et  Lunae   simulacra 

feruntur. 
Squama    sub    aeterno    conspectu    torta 

Draconis 
Eminct:    banc   inter    fulgentem   sidera 

sepiem 
Magna  quatit  stellans,  quam  aerrans  aerus 

in  alia 
Conditur  Oceani  ripa  cum  luce  Bootea." 

This  is  poor  stuff;  two  epigrams 
are  more  interesting : 

L 

"  Crede  ratem   ventis,  animum   ne  credt 
puellis: 
Namque  est  f  eminea  tutior  unda  fide." 


"  Femina  nulla  bona  eat,  et,  ai  bona  con 
tigit  ulla, 
Nescio  quo  fato  re8  mala  facta  bona.** 

We  observe    the    entire    lack    of 
inspiration,  combined  with  consider 
able    smoothness,    but    both    in    a 
feebler  degree,  which  are  character 
istic  of  his  brother's  poems. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Historical  and  Biographical  Composition — Caesar — Nejos— • 

Sallust. 

[t  is  well  known  that  Cicero  felt  strongly  tempted  to  write  a 
history  of  Kome.  Considering  the  stirring  events  among  which  ho 
lived,  the  grandeur  of  Rome's  past,  and  the  exhaustless  literary 
resources  which  he  himself  possessed,  we  are  not  surprised  either 
at  his  conceiving  the  idea  or  at  his  friends  encouraging  it.  Never- 
theless it  is  fortunate  for  his  literary  fame  that  he  abandoned  the 
proposal,1  for  he  would  have  failed  in  history  almost  more  signally 
than  he  did  in  poetry.  His  mind  was  not  adapted  for  the  kino, 
of  research  required,  nor  his  judgment  for  weighing  historic  evi- 
dence. When  Lucceius  announced  his  intention  of  writing  a 
history  which  should  include  the  Catilinarian  conspiracy,  Cicero 
did  not  scruple  to  beg  him  to  enlarge  a  little  on  the  truth.  "  You 
must  grant  something  to  our  friendship;  let  me  pray  you  to  delineate 
my  exploits  in  a  way  that  shall  reflect  the  greatest  possible  glory 
on  myself."2  A  lax  conception  of  historical  responsibility,  which 
is  not  peculiar  to  Cicero.  He  is  but  an  exaggerated  type  of  his 
nation  in  this  respect  No  Roman  author,  unless  it  be  Tacitus,  has 
been  able  fully  to  grasp  the  extreme  complexity  as  well  as  difficulty 
of  the  historian's  task.  Even  the  sage  Quintilian  maintains  the 
popidar  misconception  when  he  says,  "  History  is  closely  akin 
to  poetry,  and  is  written  for  purposes  of  narration  not  of  proof ; 
being  composed  with  the  motive  of  transmitting  oui  fame  to 
posterity,  it  avoids  the  d illness  of  continuous  narrative  by  the  use 
of  rarer  words  and  freer  periphrases."3    We  may  conclude  that  this 

1  Cicero  went  so  far  as  to  write  some  short  commentarii  on  his  consulship 
in  Greek,  and  perhaps  in  Latin  also  ;  but  they  were  not  edited  mfru  a*'ter 
his  death,  and  do  not  deserve  the  name  of  histories 

*  Cf.  ad.  Fam. ;  v.  12,  1,  and  vi.  2,  3. 

*  X.  i.  31.     He  calls  it  Carmen  Sol-utum. 


188  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

criticism  is  based  on  a  careful  study  of  the  greatest  recognised 
models.  This  false  opinion  arose  no  doubt  from  the  narrowness  of 
view  which  persisted  in  regarding  all  kinds  of  literature  as  merely 
exercises  in  style.  For  instance  accuracy  of  statements  was  not 
regarded  as  the  goal  and  object  of  the  writer's  labours,  but  rather 
as  a  useful  means  of  obtaining  clearness  of  arrangement;  abundant 
information  helped  towards  condensation.;  original  observation 
towards  vivacity;  personal  experience  of  the  events  towards  patha 
or  eloquence. 

So  unfortunately  prevalent  was  this  view  that  a  writer  was  not 
called  a  historian  unless  he  had  considerable  pretensions  to  style. 
Tbii3,  men  who  could  write,  and  had  written,  in  an  informal  way, 
excellent  hist  3rical  accounts,  were  not  studied  by  their  countrymen 
as  historians.  Their  writings  were  relegated  to  the  limbo  of  anti- 
quarian remains.  The  habit  of  writing  notes  of  their  campaigns, 
memoranda  of  their  public  conduct,  copies  of  their  speeches,  &c. 
had  for  somo  time  been  usual  among  the  abler  or  more  ambitious 
nobles.  Often  these  were  kept  by  them,  laid  by  for  future  elabora- 
tion :  oftencr  still  they  were  published,  or  sent  in  the  form  of  letters 
to  the  author's  friends.  The  letters  of  Cicero  and  his  numerous 
correspondents  present  such  a  series  of  raw  material  for  history;  and 
in  reading  any  of  the  antiquarian  writers  of  Rome  we  are  struck  by 
the  large  number  of  monographs,  essays,  pamphlets,  rough  notes, 
commentaries,  and  the  like,  attributed  to  public  men,  to  which 
they  had  access. 

It  is  quite  clear  that  for  many  years  these  documents  had  existed, 
and  equally  clear  that,  unless  their  author  was  celebrated  or  their 
style  elegant,  the  majority  of  readers  entirely  neglected  them. 
Nevertheless  they  formed  a  rich  material  for  the  diligent  and 
capable  historian.  In  using  them,  however,  we  could  not  expect 
hi  in  to  show  the  same  critical  acumen,  the  same  impartiality,  as  a 
modern  writer  trained  in  scientific  criticism  and  the  broad  culture 
of  international  ideas ;  to  expect  this  would  be  to  expect  an 
impossibility.  To  look  at  events  from  a  national  instead  of  a 
party  point  of  view  was  hard ;  to  look  at  them  from  a  human  point 
of  view,  as  Polybius  had  done,  was  still  harder.  Thus  we  cannot 
expect  from  Republican  Rome  any  historical  work  of  the  same 
scope  and  depth  as  those  of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides;  neither 
the  dramatic  genius  of  the  one  nor  the  philosophic  insight  of  the 
other  was  to  be  gained  there.  All  we  can  look  for  is  a  clear  com- 
prehensive narrative,  without  flagrant  misrepresentation,  of  some 
of  the  leading  episodes,  and  such  we  fortunately  possess  in  the 
memoirs  of  Caesar  and  the  biogpaphii  al  essays  of  Sallust 

Tin  immediate  object  of  the  Commentaries  of  Juj""*  Caesaf 


caesar's  commentaries.  189 

(100-44  B.C.),  was  no  doubt  to  furnish  the  senate  'with  an 
authentic  military  report  on  the  Gallic  and  Chil  Wars.  But  they 
had  also  an  ulterior  purpose.  They  aspired  to  justify  their  author 
in  the  eyes  of  Eome  and  of  posterity  in  his  attitude  of  hostility  to 
the  constitution. 

Pompey  was  perhaps  quite  as  desirous  of  supreme  power  as  -_. 
Caesar,  and  was   equally  ready  to   make   all   patriotic   moti\es 
subordinate  to  self-interest.     Nevertheless  he  gained,  by  his  con- 
nexion with  the  senate,  the  reputation  of  defender  of  the  consti- 
stution,  and  thought  fit  to  appropriate  the  language  of  patriotism. 
Caesar,  in  his  Commentaries — which,  though  both  unfinished  and, 
historically  speaking,  unconnected  with  one  another,  reveal  the 
deeper  connexion  of   successive   products  of  the  same  creative 
policv — labours  throughout  to  show  that  he  acted  in.  accordance 
with  the  forms  of  the  constitution  and  for  the  general  good  of 
Rome.     This  he  does  not  as  a  rule  attempt  to  prove  by  argument. 
Occasionally  he   does  so,   as  when  any  serious  accusation  was 
brought  against  the  legitimacy  of  his  acts ;  and  these  are  among 
the  most  important  and  interesting  chapters  in  his  work.1     But 
his  habitual  method  of  exculpating  himself  is  by  his  persuasive 
moderation  of  statement,  and  his  masterly  collocation  of  events. 
In  reading  the  narrative  of  the  Civil  War  it  is  hard  to  resist  the 
conviction  that  he  was  unfairly  treated.     Without  any  terms  of 
reprobation,  with  scarcely  any  harsh  language,  with  merely  that 
wondrous  skill  in  manipulating  the  series  of  facts  which  genius 
possesses,  he  has  made  his  readers,  even  against  their  prepossession, 
disapprove  of  Pompey's  attitude  and  condemn  the  bitter  hostility 
of  the  senate.     So,  too,  in  the  report  of  the  Gallic  War,  where 
diplomatic  caution  was  less  required,  the  same  apparent  candour, 
the  same  perfect  statement  of  his  case,  appears.     In  every  instance 
of  aggressive  and  ambitious  war,  there  is  some  equitable  proposal 
refused,  some  act  of   injustice  not  acknowledged,  some  infringe- 
ment of  the  dignity  of  the  Roman  people  committed,  which  makes 
it  seem  only  natural  that  Caesar  should  exact  reprisals  by  the 
sword.     On  two  or  three  occasions  he  betrays  how  little  regard  he 
had  for  good  faith  when  barbarians  were  in  consideration,  and 
how  completely  absent  was  that  generous  chmency  in  the  case  of 
a  vanquished  foreign  prince,  which  when  exercised  towards  his 
own   countrymen    procured   him    such   enviable  renown.2     His 
treacherous  conduct  towards  the  Usipetes  and  Tenchteri,  which  he 
relates  with  perfect  sangfroid,5  is  such  as  "to  shock  lis  beyond 

1  See  Bell.  Civ.  i.  4,  6,  8,  30  ;  iii.  1. 

1  "  Clementia  iua  "  was  the  way  in  wt  ich  he  caused  himself  to  be  odd*  *8sed 
en  <¥»casions  of  ceremony.  •  B.  G.  ir  12 


1(J0  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

description  ;  his  brutal  vengeance  upon  the  Atuatici  and  Veneti,* 
all  whose  leading  men  he  murdered,  and  sold  the  rest,  to  tht 
number  of  53,000,  by  auction ;  his  cruel  detention  of  the  noble 
Vei  cingetorix,  who,  af tei  acting  like  an  honourable  foe  in  the  field, 
voluntarily  gave  himself  up  to  appease  the  conqueror's  wrath  ;2 
these  are  blots  in  Caesars  scutcheon,  which,  if  they  do  not  place 
him  below  the  recognised  standard  of  action  of  the  time,  prevent 
him  from  being  placed  in  any  way  above  it.  The  theory  that 
good  faith  is  unnecessary  with  an  uncivilised  foe,  is  but  the  other 
side  of  ths  doctrine  that  it  is  merely  a  thing  of  expediency  in  the 
case  of  a  civilised  one.  And  neither  Rome  herself,  nor  many  of 
her  greatest  generals,  can  free  themselves  from  the  grievous  stain 
of  perfidious  dealing  with  those  whom  they  found  themselves 
powerful  enough  so  to  treat. 

But  if  we  can  neither  approve  the  want  of  principle,  nor  accept 
the  ex  parte  statements  which  are  embodied  in  Caesar's  Commen- 
taries, we  can  admire  to  the  utmost  the  incredible  and  almost 
superhuman  activity  which,  more  than  any  other  quality,  enabled 
him  to  overcome  his  enemies.  This  is  evidently  the  means  on 
which  he  himself  most  relied.  The  prominence  he  has  given  to 
it  in  his  writings  makes  it  almost  equivalent  to  a  precept.  The 
burden  of  his  achievements  is  the  continual  repetition  of  quam 
celerrime  contendendum  ratus, — maximis  citissimisque  itineribus 
profectus, — and  other  phrases  describing  the  rapidity  of  his  move- 
ments. By  this  he  so  terrified  the  Pompeians  that,  hearing  he 
was  en  route  for  Rome,  they  tied  in  such  dismay  as  not  even  to 
take  the  money  they  had  amassed  for  the  war,  but  to  leave  it  a 
prey  to  Caesar.  And  by  the  want  of  this,  as  he  sarcastically 
observes,  the  Pompeians  lost  their  only  chance  of  crushing  him, 
when,  driven  from  Dyrrhachium,  with  his  army  seriously  crippled 
and  provisions  almost  exhausted,  he  must  have  succumbed  to  the 
numerous  and  well-fed  forces  opposed  to  him.3  He  himself  would 
never  have  committed  such  a  mistake.  The  after- work  of  his 
victories  was  frequently  more  decisive  than  the  victories  them- 
selves. He  always  pursued  his  enemies  into  their  camp,  by 
storming  which  he  not  only  broke  their  spirit,  but  made  it  difficult 
for  them  to  retain  their  unity  of  action.  No  man  ever  knew  so 
well  the  trith  of  the  adage  "nothing  succeeds  like  success;"  and 
his  Commentaries  from  first  to  last  are  instinct  with  a  triumphant 
consciousness  of  his  knowledge  and  of  his  having  invariably  acted 
upon  it. 

«  B.  G.  ii.  34;  and  i'i.  16.  *  lb.  see  vii.  82. 

*  It  was  then  that,  is  Suetonius  tell*  xu,  Caesar  declared  that  Pon»)W< 
kn«w  not  how  to  use  a  victory 


CAESAR'S  COMMENTARIES.  191 

A  feature  which  strikes  every  reader  of  Caesar  is  tne  admiration 
and  respect  h^  has  for  his  soldiers.  Though  unsparing  of  cheif 
lives  when  occasion  demanded,  he  never  speaks  of  them  as  *  food 
for  powder."  Once,  when  his  men  clamoured  for  "battle,  but  he 
thought  he  could  gain  his  point  without  shedding  blood,  he  refused 
to  fight,  though  the  discontent  became  alarming :  "  Cur,  etiam 
secundo  praelio,  aliquas  ex  suis  amitteref?  Cur  vulnerari  pateretur 
optime  meritos  de  se  milites1?  cur  denique  fortunam  periclitaretur, 
praesertim  cum  non  minus  esset  imperatoris  consilio  superare 
quam  gladioT'  This  consideration  for  the  lives  of  his  soldiers, 
when  the  storm  was  over,  won  him  gratitude ;  and  it  was  no  single 
instance.  Everywhere  they  are  mentioned  with  high  praise,  and 
no  small  portion  of  the  victory  is  ascribed  to  them.  Stories  of 
individual  valour  are  inserted,  and  several  centurions  singled  out 
for  special  commendation.  Caesar  lingers  with  delight  over  the 
exploits  of  his  tenth  legion.  Officers  and  men  are  all  fondly 
remembered.  The  heroic  conduct  of  Pulfio  and  Yarenus,  who 
challenge  each  other  to  a  display  of  valour,  and  by  each  saving 
the  other's  life  are  reconciled  to  a  friendly  instead  of  a  hostile 
rivalry  :x  the  intrepidity  of  the  veterans  at  Lissus,  whose  self- 
reliant  bravery  calls  forth  one  of  the  finest  descriptions  in  the 
whole  book  f  and  the  loyal  devotion  of  all  when  he  announces 
His  critical  position,  and  asks  if  they  will  stand  by  him,3  are 
related  with  glowing  pride.  Numerous  other  merely  incidental 
notices,  scattered  through  both  works,  confirm  the  pleasing  impres- 
sion that  commander  and  commanded  had  full  confidence  in  each 
other;  and  he  relates4  with  pardonable  exultation  the  speak- 
ing fact  that  among  all  the  hardships  they  endured  (hardships  so 
terrible  that  Pompey,  seeing  the  roots  on  which  they  subsisted, 
declared  he  had  beasts  to  fight  with  and  not  men)  not  a  soldier 
except  Labienus  and  two  Gaulish  officers  ever  deserted  his  cause, 
though  thousands  came  over  to  him  from  the  opposite  side.  It  is 
the  greatest  proof  of  his  power  over  men,  and  thereby,  of  his 
military  capacity,  that  perhaps  it  is  possible  to  show. 

Besides  their  clear  description  of  military  manoeuvres,  of  engin- 
eering, bridge-making,  and  all  kinds  of  operations,  in  which  they 
may  be  compared  with  the  despatches  of  the  great  generals  of 
modern  times,  Caesar's  Commentaries  contain  much  useful  infor- 
mation regarding  the  countries  he  visited.  There  is  a  wonderful 
freshness  and  versatility  about  his  mind.  "While  primarily  con- 
sidering a  country,  as  he  was  forced  to  do,  from  its  strategical 
features,  or  its  capacity  for  furnishing  contingents  or  tribute,  Va 

i  B.  G.  v.  36  *  lb.  iii  2&  »  lb.  i.  6,  7  4  lb.  iii  5tr. 


192  BISTOBY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

was  ne certheless  keenly  alive  to  all  objects  of  interest,  whether  in 
nature  or  in  human  customs.     The  inquiring  curiosity  with  which 
Lucan  upbraids  him  during  his  visit  to  Egypt,  if  it  were  not  on 
that  occasion  assumed,  as  some  think,  to  hide  his  real  projects,  was 
one  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  his  mind.    As  soon  as  he  thought 
Gaul  was  quiet  he  hurried  to  Illyria,1  animated  by  the  desire  to 
see  those  nations,  and  to  observe  their  customs  for  himself.     His 
journey  into  Britain,  though  by  Suetonius  attributed  to  avarice, 
which  had  been  kindled  by  the  report  of  enormous  pearls  of  fine 
quality  to  be  found  on  our  coasts,  is  by  himself  attributed  to  his 
desire  to  see  so  strange  a  country,  and  to  be  the  first  to  conquer  it.2 
His  account  of  our  island,  though  imperfect,  is  extremely  interest- 
ing.    He  mentions  many  of  our  products.     The  existence  of  lead 
and  iron  ore  was  known  to  him;  he  does  not  allude  to  tin,  but  its 
occurrence  can  hardly  have  been  unknown  to  him.     He  remarks 
that  the  beech  and  pine  do  not  grow  in  the  south  of  England, 
which  is  probably  an  inaccuracy;3  and  he  falls  into  the  mistake  of 
supposing  that  the  north  of  Scotland  enjoys  in  winter  a  period  of 
thirty  days  total  darkness.     His  account  of  Gaul,  and,  to  a  certain 
extent,  of  Germany,  is  more  explicit.     He  gives  a  fine  description 
of  the  Druids  and  their  mysterious  religion,  noticing  in  particular 
the  firm  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  which  begot  indiffe- 
rence to  death,  and  was  a  great  incentive  to  bravery.4     The  effects 
of  this  belief  are  dwelt  on  by  Lucan  in  one  of  his  most  effective 
passages,5  which  is  greatly  borrowed  from  Caesar.    Their  knowledge 
of  letters,   and  their  jealous  restriction  of  it  to  themselves  and 
express  prohibition  of  any  written  literature,  he  attributes  partly 
to  their  desire  to  keep  the  people  ignorant,  the  common  feeling  of 
a  powerful  priesthood,  and  partly  to  a  conviction  that  writing 
injures  the  memory,  which  among  men  of  action  should  be  kept 
in  constant  exercise.     His  acquaintance  with  German  civilization 
is  more  superficial,  and  shows  that  incapacity  for  scientific  criticism 

1  B.  G.  iii.  7. 

8  Suetonius  thus  speaks  (Vit.  Cues.  24)  of  his  wanton  aggression,  "  N«6 
deivde  nlla  belli  occasion*  ne  iniusti  qttidem  ac  periculosi  abstinuit  tarn  fede- 
ratis  tarn,  infestis  ac  feris  gentibus  ultro  lacessitis."  An  excellent  comment  on 
Roman  lust  of  dominion. 

3  I  am  told  by  Professor  Rolleston  that  Caesar  is  here  mistaken.  The 
pine,  by  which  he  presumably  meant  the  Scotch  fir,  certainly  existed  in  the 
first  century  B.C.;  and  as  to  the  beech,  Burnham  beeches  were  then  fine 
young  trees.  Doubtless  changes  have  come  over  our  vegetation.  The  linden 
or  lime  is  a  Roman  importation,  the  small-leaved  species  alone  being  indige- 
nous ;  so  is  the  English  elm,  which  has  now  developed  specific  differences, 
which  have  caused  botanists  to  rank  it  apart.  There  is,  perhaps,  som# 
uncertainty  as  to  the  exact  import  of  the  word  fagus. 

4  R  O.  vi.  11,  sg7.  8  Phars.  i.  445-457. 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  CAESAR'S  STATEMENTS.  193 

winch  was  common  to  all  antiquity. l  His  testimony  to  the  chastity 
of  the  German  race,  confirmed  afterwards  by  Tacitus,  is  interest- 
ing as  showing  one  of  the  causes  which  have  contributed  to  its 
greatn  >ss.  He  relates,  with  apparent  belief,  the  existence  of  several 
extraordinary  quadrupeds  in  the  vast  Hercynian  forest,  such  as  the 
unicorn  of  heraldry,  which  here  first  appears ;  the  elk,  which  has 
no  joints  to  its  legs,  and  cannot  lie  down,  whose  bulk  he  depreci- 
ates as  much  as  he  exaggerates  that  of  the  urus  or  wild  bull,  which 
he  describes  as  hardly  inferior  to  the  elephant  in  size.  To  have 
slain  one  of  these  gigantic  animals,  and  carried  off  its  horns  as  a 
trophy,  was  almost  as  great  a  glory  as  the  possession  of  the  grizzly 
bear's  claws  among  the  Indians  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Some 
of  his  remarks  on  the  temper  of  the  Gauls  might  be  applied  almost 
without  change  to  their  modern  representatives.  The  French  elan 
is  done  ample  justice  to,  as  well  as  the  instability  and  self-esteem 
of  that  great  people.  "  Ut  ad  bella  suscipienda  Gallorum  alacer 
et  promptus  est  animus,  sic  mollis  ac  minime  resistens  ad  calami- 
tates  perferendas  mens  eorum  est.2  And  again,  "  quod  sunt  in 
capessendis  consiliis  mobiles  et  novis  plerumque  rebus  student."3 
He  notices  the  tall  stature  of  both  Gauls  and  Germans,  which  was 
at  first  the  cause  of  some  terror  to  his  soldiers,  and  some  contemp- 
tuousness  on  their  part.4  "  Plerisque  liominibus  Gallis  prae  mag- 
nitude ne  corporum  suorum  brevitas  nostra  contemptui  est" 

Caesar  himself  was  of  commanding  presence,  great  bodily  endu- 
rance, and  heroic  personal  daring.  These  were  qualities  which  his 
enemies  knew  how  to  respect.  On  one  occasion,  when  his  legions 
were  blockaded  in  Germany,  he  penetrated  at  night  to  his  camp 
disguised  as  a  Gaul ;  and  in  more  than  one  battle  he  turned  the 
fortune  of  the  day  by  his  extraordinary  personal  courage,  fighting 
on  foot  before  his  wavering  troops,  or  snatching  the  standard  from 
the  centurion's  timid  grasp.  He  took  the  greatest  pains  to  collect 
accurate  information,  and  frequently  he  tells  us  who  his  informants 
were.5  Where  there  was  no  reason  for  the  suppression  or  mis- 
representation of  truth,  Caesar's  statements  may  be  implicitly  relied 
on.  No  man  knew  human  nature  better,  or  how  to  decide  between 
conflicting  assertions.  He  rarely  indulges  in  conjecture,  but  in 
investigating  the  motives  of  his  adversaries  he  is  penetrating  and 
unmerciful.  At  the  commencement  of  the  treatise  on  the  civil 
war  he  gives  his  opinion  as  to  the  considerations  that  weighed  witb 
Lentulus,  Cato,  Scipio,  and  Pompey;  and  it  is  characteristic  of  the 
man  that  of  all  he  deals  most  hardly  with  Cato,  whose  pretension? 
8nnoyed  him,  and  in  whose  virtue  he  did  not  believe.     To  the 

1  B.  G.  y*.  19.         ■  lb.  iii.  20.         3  lb.  iv.  5.  4  lb  see  i.  80;  it  3(1 

*  lb.  ii.  1  *;  v.  5.     lb.  iii.  16,  49  and  many  other  passages. 

N 


194  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

bravest  of  his  Gallic  enemies  he  is  not  unjust.  The  Nervii  in  par- 
ticular,  by  their  courage  and  self-devotion,  excite  his  warm  admi- 
ration,1 and  while  he  felt  it  necessary  to  exterminate  them,  they 
seem  to  have  been  among  the  very  few  that  moved  his  pity. 

As  to  the  style  of  these  two  great  works,  no  better  criticism  can 
be  given  than  that  of  Cicero  in  the  Brutus  ;2  "  They  are  worthy  of 
all  praise  :  they  are  unadorned,  straightforward,  and  elegant,  every 
ornament  being  stripped  off  as  it  were  a  garment.  While  he  desired 
to  give  others  the  material  out  of  which  to  create  a  history ;  he 
may  perhaps  have  done  a  kindness  to  conceited  writers  who  wish  to 
trick  them  out  with  meretricious  graces ; 3  but  he  has  deterred  all 
men  of  sound  taste  from  touching  them.  For  in  history  a  pure 
and  brilliant  conciseness  of  style  is  the  highest  attainable  beauty." 
Condensed  as  they  are,  and  often  almost  bald,  they  have  that  match- 
less clearness  which  marks  the  mind  that  is  master  of  its  entire 
subject.  We  have  only  to  compare  them  with  the  excellent  but 
immeasurably  inferior  commentaries  of  Hirtius  to  estimate  their 
value  in  this  respect.  Precision,  arrangement,  method,  are  qualities 
that  never  leave  them  from  beginning  to  end.  It  is  much  to  be  re- 
gretted that  they  are  so  imperfect  and  that  the  text  is  not  in  a  better 
state.  In  the  Civil  I  Var  particularly,  gaps  frequently  occur,  and  both 
the  beginning  and  the  end  are  lost.  They  were  written  during  the 
campaign,  though  no  doubt  cast  into  their  present  form  in  the  in- 
tervals of  winter  leisure.  Hirtius,  who,  at  Caesar's  request,  appended 
an  eighth  book  to  the  Gallic  War,  tells  us  in  a  letter  to  Balbus,  how 
rapidly  he  wrote.  "  I  wish  that  those  who  will  read  my  book 
could  know  how  unwillingly  I  took  it  in  hand,  that  I  might 
acquit  myself  of  folly  and  arrogance  in  completing  what  Caesar  had 
begun.  For  all  agree  that  the  elegance  of  these  commentaries  sur- 
passes the  most  laborious  efforts  of  other  writers.  They  were 
edited  to  prevent  historians  being  ignorant  of  matters  of  such  high 
importance.  But  so  highly  are  they  approved  by  the  universal 
verdict  that  the  power  of  amplifying  them  has  been  rather  taken 
away  than  bestowed  by  their  publication.4  And  yet  I  have  a  right 
to  mam  1  at  this  even  more  than  others.  For  while  others  know 
how  faultlessly  they  are  written,  I  know  with  what  ease  and 
rapidity  he  dashed  them  off.  For  Caesar,  besides  the  highest  con- 
ceivable literary  gift,  possessed  the  most  perfect  skill  in  explain- 
ing his  designs."     This  testimony  of  his  most  intimate  friend  is 

1  B.  G.  ii.  16,  207.  •  Brut.  lxxv.  262. 

1  u  Calamistris  inurere,"  a  metaphor  from  curling  the  hair  with  hot  irona 
The  entire  description  is  in  the  language  of  sculpture,  by  which  Ciceif 
Implies  that  Caesar's  style  is  statuesque. 

4  **  Praerepta  non praebita  facidlas.' 


OTHER  WRITERS  OF  COMMENTARIES.  ]  KjZ 

( onfirnied  by  a  careful  perusal  of  the  works,  the  elaboration  of  which, 
though  rery  great,  consists,  not  in  the  execution  of  details,  but  in 
the  carefully  meditated  design.  The  Commentaries  have  always 
been  a  favourite  book  with  soldiers  as  with  scholars.  Their  La- 
tinity  is  not  more  pure  than  their  tactics  are  instructive.  Nor  are 
the  loftier  graces  of  composition  wanting.  The  speeches  of  Curio 
rise  into  eloquence.1  Petreius's  despair  at  the  impending  desertion 
of  his  army2  is  powerfully  drawn,  and  the  contrast,  brief  but 
effective,  between  the  Pompeians'  luxury  and  his  own  army's 
want  of  common  necessaries,  assumes  all  the  grandeur  of  a  moral 
warning.3 

The  example  of  their  general  and  their  own  devotion  induced 
other  distinguished  men  to  complete  his  work.  A.  Hirtius  (consul 
43  b.c),  who  served  with  him  in  the  Gallic  and  Civil  Wars,  as  we 
have  seen,  added  at  his  request  an  eighth  book  to  the  history  of 
the  former ;  and  in  the  judgment  of  the  best  critics  the  Alexandrine 
War  is  also  by  his  hand.  Prom  these  two  treatises,  which  are 
written  in  careful  imitation  of  Caesar's  manner,  we  form  a  high 
conception  of  the  literary  standard  among  men  of  education.  Por 
Hirtius,  though  a  good  soldier  and  an  efficient  consul,  was  a  literary 
man  only  by  accident.  It  was  Caesar  who  ordered  him  to  write, 
first  a  reply  to  Cicero's  panegyric  on  Cato,  and  then  the  Gallic 
Commentary.  Nevertheless,  his  two  books  show  no  inferiority  in 
taste  or  diction  to  those  of  his  illustrious  chief.  They  of  course 
lack  his  genius ;  but  there  is  the  same  purity  of  style,  the  same 
perfect  moderation  of  language. 

Nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  admirable  taste  of  the  highest 
conversational  language  at  Rome  in  the  seventh  century  of  the 
Eepublic.  Not  only  Hirtius,  but  Matius,  Balbus,  Sulpicius, 
Brutus,  Cassius  and  other  correspondents  of  Cicero,  write  to  him 
in  a  dialect  as  pure  as  his  own.  It  is  true  they  have  not  his 
grace,  his  inimitable  freedom  and  copiousness.  Most  of  them  are 
somewhat  laboured,  and  give  us  the  impression  of  having  acquired 
with  difficulty  the  control  of  their  inflexible  material.  But  the 
intimate  study  of  the  noble  language  in  which  they  wrote  compels 
us  to  admit  that  it  was  fully  equal  to  the  clear  exposition  of  the 
severest  thought  and  the  most  subtle  diplomatic  reasoning.  But 
its  prime  was  already  passing.  Even  men  of  the  noblest  family 
could  not  without  long  discipline  attain  the  lofty  standard  of  the 
best  conversational  requirements.  Sextos  Pompeius  is  said  to  have 
been  sermone  barbarw.*     On  this  Niebuhr  well  remarks :  "  It  i* 

»BC  ii.  27,  28.  2Ib.  i.  67. 

*  lb.  iii  78.    Compare  also  the  brilliant  description  of  the  siege  cf  Salor  *e 
Hi.  7  *  Veil.  Pat.  ii.  73 


196  HISTORY  OF  HOMAN  LITERATURE. 

remarkable  to  see  how  at  that  time  men  who  did  not  receive  8 
thorough  education  neglected  their  mother-tongue,  and  spoke  a 
corrupt  form  of  it.  The  urba?iitas,  or  perfection  of  the  language, 
easily  degenerated  unless  it  were  kept  up  by  careful  study.  Cicero  * 
speaks  of  the  sermo  urbanus  in  the  time  of  Laelius,  and  observes 
that  the  ladies  of  that  age  spoke  exquisitely.  But  in  Caesar's 
time  it  had  begun  to  decay."  Caesar,  in  one  of  his  writings,  tells 
his  reader  to  shun  like  a  rock  every  unusual  form  of  speech.2 
And  this  admirable  counsel  he  has  himself  generally  followed — 
but  few  provincialisms  or  archaisms  can  be  detected  in  his  pages.8 
In  respect  of  style  he  stands  far  at  the  head  of  all  the  Latin  his 
torians.  The  authorship  of  the  African  War  is  doubtful ;  it  seems 
best,  with  Niebuhr,  to  assign  it  to  Oppius.  The  Spanish  War  is 
obviously  written  by  a  person  of  a  different  sort.  It  may  either 
be,  as  Niebuhr  thinks,  the  work  of  a  centurion  or  military  tribune 
in  the  common  rank  of  life,  or,  as  we  incline  to  think,  of  a  pro- 
vincial, perhaps  a  Spaniard,  who  was  well  read  in  the  older  literature 
of  Rome,  but  could  not  seize  the  complex  and  delicate  idiom  of  the 
beau  monde  of  his  day.  "With  vulgarisms  like  bene  magni,  in  ojpere 
distenti,*  and  inaccuracies  like  ad  ignoscendum  for  ad  se  excusan- 
dam,b  quam  opimam  for  quam  optimamf  he  combines  quotations 
from  Ennius,  e.g.  hie  pes  jpede  premitur,  armis  teruntur  arma?  and 
rhetorical  constructions,  e.g.  alteri  aliens  non  solum  mortem  morti 
exaggerabant,  sed  tumulos  tumults  exacquabant.8  He  quotes  the 
words  of  Caesar  in  a  form  of  which  we  can  hardly  believe  the 
dictator  to  have  been  guilty  :  "  Caesar  gives  conditions :  he  never 
receives  them:"9  and  again,  "J  am  Caesar:  I  keep  my  faith."10 
Points  like  these,  to  which  we  may  add  his  fondness  for  dwelling 
on  horrid  details11  (always  omitted  by  Caesar),  and  for  showy 
descriptions,  as  that  of  the  single  combat  between  Turpio  and 
Niger,12  seem  to  mark  him  out  as  in  mind  if  not  in  race  a  Spaniard. 
These  are  the  very  features  we  find  recurring  in  Lucan  and  Seneca, 
which,  joined  to  undoubted  talent,  brought  a  most  pernicious 
element  into  the  Latin  style. 

To  us  Caesar's  literary  power  is  shown  in  the  sphere  of  history. 
But  to  his  contemporaries  he  was  even  more  distinguished  in  other 
fields.  As  an  orator  he  was  second,  and  only  second,  to  Cicero.18 
His  vigorous  sense,  close  argument,  brilliant  wit,  and  perfect  com 

i  De  Or.  iii.  12.  ■  See  Aul.  Geil.  i.  10. 

8  The  word  ambactus  ( =  cHens) ;  and  the  forms  malaria,  detrimentosus. 
lihcrtati  (abl.),  Scnatu  (dat.).    But  these  last  can  be  paralleled  from  Cicero. 

4  B.  H.  5.  6  Id.  5.  6  Id.  33.  7  Id.  31.  8  Id.  6. 

•Id.  15.  10ld.  19.  *E.g.20.  "IK 

13  Tac.  De  Or.  21.  **  Non  alius  contra  Ciceronem  nominaretur."  Quint 
K.  i.  11 4. 


CAESAR'S  ORATORICAL  AND  SCIENTIFIC  POSITION.        197 

mand  of  language,  made  him,  from  his  first  appearance  as  accusei 
of  Dolabella  at  the  age  of  22,  one  of  the  foremost  orators  of  Borne. 
And  he  possessed  also,  though  he  kept  in  check,  that  greatest 
weapon  of  eloquence,  the  power  to  stir  the  passions.  But  with  him 
eloquence  was  a  means,  not  an  end.  He  spoke  to  gain  his  point, 
not  to  acquire  fame ;  and  thus  thought  less  of  enriching  than  of 
enforcing  his  arguments.  One  ornament  of  speech,  however,  he 
pursued  with  the  greatest  zeal,  namely,  good  taste  and  refinement;1 
and  in  this,  according  to  Cicero,  he  stood  above  all  his  rivals. 
Unhappily,  not  a  single  speech  remains ;  only  a  few  characteristic 
fragments,  from  which  we  can  but  feel  the  more  how  much  we 
have  lost.2 

Besides  speeches,  which  were  part  of  his  public  life,  he  showed 
a  deep  interest  in  science.  He  wrote  a  treatise  on  grammar, 
de  Analogia,  for  which  he  found  time  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his 
busiest  campaigns3  and  dedicated  to  Cicero,4  much  to  the  orator's 
delight.  In  the  dedication  occur  these  generous  words,  "  If  many 
by  study  and  practice  have  laboured  to  express  their  thoughts  in 
noble  language,  of  which  art  I  consider  you  to  be  almost  the 
author  and  originator,  it  is  our  duty  to  regard  you  as  one  who 
has  well  deserved  of  the  name  and  dignity  of  the  Roman  people." 
The  treatise  was  intended  as  an  introduction  to  philosophy  and 
eloquence,  and  was  itself  founded  on  philosophical  principles;5 
and  beyond  doubt  it  brought  to  bear  on  the  subject  that  luminous 
arrangement  which  was  inseparable  from  Caesar's  mind.  Some  of 
his  conclusions  are  curious ;  he  lays  down  that  the  genitive  of 
dies  is  die  ;  6  the  genitive  plural  of  pants,  pars  ;  panum,  partum  ;7 
the  accusative  of  turbo,  turbonem  ;8  the  perfect  of  mordeo  and  the 
like,  memordi  not  momordi  ;9  the  genitive  of  Pompeius,  Pompeiii.16 
The  forms  maximus,  optimus,  municipium,11  &c.  which  he  intro- 
duced, seem  to  have  been  accepted  on  his  authority,  and  to  have 
established  themselves  finally  in  the  language. 

As  chief  pontifex  he  interested  himself  with  a  digest  of  the 
Auspices,  which  he  carried  as  far  as  sixteen  books.12  The  Augur- 
alia,  which  are  mentioned  by  Priscian,  are  perhaps  a  second  part 
of  the  same  treatise.     He  also  wrote  an  essay  on  Divination, 

1  Elcgantia,  "Brut.  72,  252. 

2  The  best  will  be  found  in  Suet.  Jul.  Caes.  vi.  Aul.  Gel.  v.  13,  xiii.  3. 
Val.  Max.  v.  3.  Besides  we  can  form  some  idea  of  them  from  the  analysi* 
of  them  in  his  own  Commentaries. 

3  De  Analogia,  in  two  books,  Suet.  56.  4  Brut,  lxxii. 
8  See  the  long  quotation  in  Gell.  xix.  8.  6  Cell.  ix.  14. 
7  Charis.  i.  114.  8  Ibid. 

»  Gell.  vii.  9.  i0  Prise,  i.  545. 

11  Caasiod.  ex  Annaeo  Cornuto.  —  De  Orthog.  col.  2228.      12  Macrob   i.  Id. 


198  HISTORY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 

like  that  of  Cicero.  In  this  he  probably  disclosed  his  real 
opinions,  which  we  know  from  other  sources  were  those  of  the 
extremest  scepticism.  There  seemed  no  incongruity  in  a  man 
who  disbelieved  the  popular  religion  holding  i  he  sacred  office  of 
pontifex.  The  persuasion  that  religion  was  merely  a  department 
of  the  civil  order  was  considered,  even  by  Cicero,  to  absolve  men 
from  any  conscientious  allegiance  to  it  After  his  elevation  to 
the  perpetual  dictatorship  he  turned  his  mind  to  astronomy,  owing 
to  the  necessities  of  the  calendar ;  and  composed,  or  at  least  pub- 
lished, several  books  which  were  thought  by  no  means  unscientific, 
and  are  frequently  quoted.1  Of  his  poems  we  shall  speak  in 
another  place.  The  only  remaining  works  are  his  two  pamphleta 
against  Cato,  to  which  Juvenal  rsfers  :2 

"  Maiorem  quam  sunt  duo  Caesaris  Anticatones." 

These  were  intended  as  a  reply  to  Cicero's  laudatory  essay,  but 
though  written  with  the  greatest  ability,  were  deeply  prejudiced 
and  did  not  carry  the  people  with  them.3  The  witty  or  proverbial 
sayings  of  Caesar  were  collected  either  during  his  life,  or  after  his 
death,  and  formed  an  interesting  collection.  Some  of  them  attest 
his  pride,  as  "My  word  is  law;"*  "  I  am  not  king,  but  Caesar  ;"6 
others  his  clemency,  as,  "Spare  the  citizens ;"6  others  his  greatness 
of  soul,  as,  "  Caesar's  wife  must  be  above  suspicion"1 

Several  of  his  letters  are  preserved;  they  are  in  admirable 
taste,  but  do  not  present  any  special  points  for  criticism.  With 
Caesar  ends  the  collection  of  genuine  letter-writers,  who  wrote  in 
conversational  style,  without  reference  to  publicity.  In  after 
times  we  have  indeed  numerous  so-called  letters,  but  they  are  no 
longer  the  same  class  of  composition  as  these,  nor  have  any  recent 
letters  the  vigour,  grace,  and  freedom  of  those  of  Cicero  and  Caesar. 

A  friend  of  many  great  men,  and  especially  of  Atticus, 
Cornelius  Nepos  (74?-24  b.c.)  owes  his  fame  to  the  kindness  of 
fortune  more  than  to  his  own  achievements.  Had  we  possessed 
only  the  account  of  him  given  by  his  friends,  we  should  have  be- 
wailed the  loss  of  a  learned  and  eloquent  author.8  Fortunately  we 
have  the  means  of  judging  of  his  talent  by  a  short  fragment  of  his 
work  On  Illustrious  Men,  which,  though  it  relegates  him  to  the 
second  rank  in  intellect,  does  credit  to  his  character  and  heart.9   It 

1  E.g.  Macrob.  Sat.  i.  16.     Plin.  xviii.  26.  »  Sat.  vi.  334. 

8  Cicero  calls  them  Vitupcralioiuis,  ad  Att.  xii.  41.  4  Suet.  Caes.  77. 
•Suet.  79.                               «  lb.  75.     Flor.  iv.  11,  50. 

7  lb.  74.  8  Doctis  Iupitcr !  ct  labor iosis,  Cat.  i.  7. 

9  More  particularly  the  life  of  his  friend  Atticus,  which  breathes  a  really 
beautiful  spirit,  though  it  suppresses  some  traits  in  his  character  which  a 
perfectly  truthful  account  would  not  have  suppressed. 


CORNELIUS  NEPOS.  199 

consists  of  the  lives  of  several  Greek  generals  and  statesmen,  written 
in  a  compendious  and  popular  style,  adapted  especially  for  school 
reading,  where  it  has  always  been  in  great  request.  Besides  these 
there  are  short  accounts  of  Hamilcar  and  Hannibal,  and  of  the 
Romans,  Cato  and  Atticus.  The  last-mentioned  biography  is  an 
extract  from  a  lost  work,  De  Historicis  Latinis,  among  whom 
friendship  prompts  him  to  class  the  good-natured  and  cultivated 
banker.  The  series  of  illustrious  men  extended  over  sixteen 
books,  and  was  divided  under  the  headings  of  kings,  generals, 
lawyers,  orators,  poets,  historians,  philosophers,  and  grammarians. 
To  each  of  these  two  books  were  devoted,  one  of  Greek,  and  one 
of  Latin  examples.1  Of  those  we  possess  the  life  of  Atticus  is  the 
only  one  of  any  historical  value,  the  rest  being  mere  super- 
ficial compilations,  and  not  always  from  the  best  authorities. 
Besides  the  older  generation,  he  had  friends  also  among  the 
younger.  Catullus,  who  like  him  came  from  Gallia  Cisalpina, 
pays  in  his  first  poem  the  tribute  of  gratitude,  due  probably  to 
his  timely  patronage.  The  work  mentioned  there  as  that  on  which 
the  fame  of  Nepos  rested  was  called  Chronica.  It  seems  to  have 
been  a  laborious  attempt  to  form  a  comparative  chronology  of  Greek 
and  Roman  History,  and  to  have  contained  three  books.  Subse- 
quently, he  preferred  biographical  studies,  in  which  field,  besides 
his  chief  work,  he  edited  a  series  of  Exempla,  or  patterns  for 
imitation,  of  the  character  of  our  modern  Self  Help,  and  intended 
to  wean  youthful  minds  from  the  corrupt  fashions  of  their  time.  A 
Life  of  Cicero  would  probably  be  of  great  use  to  us,  had  fortune 
spared  it ;  for  Nepos  knew  Cicero  well,  and  had  access  through 
Atticus  to  all  his  correspondence.  At  Atticus's  request  he  wrote 
also  a  biography  of  Cato  at  greater  length  than  the  short  one  which 
we  possess.  It  has  been  observed  by  Men  vale2  that  the  Romans 
were  specially  fitted  for  biographical  writing.  The  rhetorical  cast 
of  their  minds  and  the  disposition  to  reverence  commanding 
meiit  made  them  admirable  panygerists ;  and  few  would  celebrate 
wl  era  they  did  not  mean  to  praise.  Of  his  general  character  as 
a  historian  Mr  Oscar  Browning  in  his  useful  edition  says  :  "  He  is 
most  untrustworthy.  It  is  often  difficult  to  disentangle  the 
wilful  complications  of  his  chronology ;  and  he  tries  to  enhance 
the  value  of  what  he  is  relating  by  a  foolish  exaggeration  which 
is  only  too  transparent  to  deceive."  His  style  is  clear,  a  merit 
attributable  to  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and,  as  a  rule,  elegant, 
though  verging  here  and  there  to  prettiness.  Though  of  the  same 
age  as  Caesar  he  adopts  a  more  modern  Latinity.     We  miss  the 

1  This  is  Nipperdey's  arrangement.  2  Hist.  Rom.  vol.  viii. 


200  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

quarried  marble  which  polish  hardens  but  does  not  wear  away 
"Nepos's  language  is  a  softer  substance,  and  becomes  thin  beneath 
the  fde.  He  is  occasionally  inaccurate.  In  the  Phocion1  we  have 
a  sentence  incomplete ;  in  the  Chabrias2  we  have  an  accusative 
(Agesilaum)  with  nothing  to  govern  it ;  we  have  ante  se  for  ante 
eum,  a  fault,  by  the  way,  into  which  almost  every  Latin  writer  is 
apt  to  fall,  since  the  rules  on  which  the  true  practice  is  built  are 
among  the  subtlest  in  any  language.3  We  have  poetical  construc- 
tions, as  tollere  consiHa  iniit ;  popular  ones,  as  infitias  it,  dum 
with  the  perfect  tense,  and  colloquialisms  like  impraesentiarum ; 
we  have  Graecizing  words  like  deuteretur,  automatias,  and  curioua 
inflexions  such  as  Thuynbs,  Coti,  Datami,  genitives  of  Thuys, 
Cotys*  and  Datames,  respectively.  We  see  in  Nepos,  as  in  Xeno- 
phon,  the  first  signs  of  a  coming  change.  He  forms  a  link 
between  the  exclusively  prosaic  style  of  Cicero  and  Caesar,  and 
prose  softened  and  coloured  with,  poetic  beauties,  which  was 
brought  to  such  perfection  by  Livy. 

After  the  life  of  Hannibal,  in  the  MS.,  occurred  an  epigram  by 
the  grammarian  Aemilius  Probus  inscribing  the  work  to  Theo- 
dosius.  By  this  scholars  were  long  misled.  It  was  Lambinus 
who  first  proved  that  the  pure  Latinity  of  the  lives  could  not* 
except  by  magic,  be  the  product  of  the  Theodosian  age ;  and  as 
ancient  testimony  amply  justified  the  assignment  of  the  life  of 
Atticus  to  Nepos,  and  he  was  known  also  to  have  been  the  author 
of  just  such  a  book  as  came  out  under  Probus's  name,  the  great 
scholar  boldly  drew  the  conclusion  that  the  series  of  biographies 
we  possess  were  the  veritable  work  of  Nepos.  For  a  time  con- 
troversy raged.  A  via  media  was  discovered  which  regarded 
them  as  an  abridgment  in  Theodosius's  time  of  the  fuller  original 
work.  But  even  this,  which  was  but  a  concession  to  prejudice, 
is  now  generally  abandoned,  and  few  would  care  to  dispute  the 
accuracy  of  Lambinus's  penetrating  criticism.5 

The  first  artistic  historian  of  Pome  is  C.  Sallustius  Crispus 
(86-34  b.c).  This  great  writer  was  born  at  Amiternum  in  the 
year  in  which  Marius  died,  and,  as  we  know  from  himself,  he 
came  to  Pome  burning  with  ambition  to  ennoble  his  name,  and 
studied  with  that  purpose  the  various  arts  of  popularity.  He  rose 
Bteadily  through  the  quaestorship  to  the  tribuneship  of  the  plebs 
(52  B.C.),  and  so  became  a  member  of  the  senate.    Prom  this  position 

1  ii.  2.  2  i.  2. 

8  They  are    fully   expounded  in   the   second  volume  of  Roby's   Latin 
Grammar. 
4  Unless  Cotus  be  thought  a  more  accurate  representative  of  the  Greek. 
8  Nipperdey,  xxxvi.-xxxviii.  quoted  by  Teufiel. 


SALLUST.  201 

be  was  degraded  (50  b.c.)  on  the  plea  of  adultery,  committed 
some  years  before  with  the  wife  of  Annius  Milo,  a  disgrace  he 
seems  to  have  deeply  felt,  although  it  was  probably  instigated  by 
political  and  not  moral  disapprobation.     For  Sallust  was  a  warm 
admirer  and  partisan  of  Caesar,  who  in  time  (47  b.o.)  made  him 
praetor,  thus  restoring  his  rank ;  and  assigned  him  (46  b.c.)  the 
province  of  Numidia,  from  which  he  carried  an  enormous  fortune, 
for  the  most  part,  we  fear,  unrighteously  obtained.    On  his  return 
(45  b.c),  content  with  his  success,  he  sank  into  private  life ;  and 
to  the  leisure  and  study  of  his  later  years  we  owe  the  works  that 
have  made  him  famous.     He  employed  his  wealth  in  ministering 
to  his  comfort.     His  favourite  retreats  were  a  villa  at  Tibur  which 
had  once  been  Caesar's,  and  a  magnificent  palace  which  he  built 
in  the  suburbs  of  Eome,  surrounded  by  pleasure-grounds,  after- 
wards well-known  as  the  "  Gardens  of  Sallust/'  and  as  the  residence 
of  successive  emperors.     The  preacher  of  ancient  virtue  was  an 
adept  in  modern  luxury.     Augustus  chose  the  historian's  dwelling 
as  the  scene  of  his  most  sumptuous  entertainments  ;  Vespasian  pre- 
ferred it  to  the  palace  of  the  Caesars ;  ISTerva  and  Aurelian,  stern 
as  they  were,  made  it  their  constant  abode.1    And  yet  Sallust  was 
not  a  happy  man.     The  inconsistency  of  conduct  and  the  whirl- 
wind of  political  passion  in  which  most  men  then  lived  seems  to  have 
sapped  the  springs  of  life  and  worn  out  body  and  mind  before  their 
time.     Caesar's  activity  had  at  his  death  begun  to  make  him  old  ;2 
Sallust  lived  only  to  the  age  of  52  ;  Lucretius  and  Catullus  were 
even  younger  when  they  died.     And  the  views  of  life  presented 
in  their  works  are  far  from  hopeful.     Sallust,  indeed,  praises 
virtue ;  but  it  is  an  ideal  of  the  past,  colossal  but  extinct,  on  which 
his  gloomy  eloquence  is  exhausted.     Among  his  contemporaries 
he  finds  no  vestige  of  ancient  goodness;  honour  has  become  a 
traffic,  ambition  has  turned  to  avarice,  and  envy  has  taken  the 
place  of  public  spirit.     From  this  scene  of  turpitude  he  selects  two 
men  who  in  diverse  ways  recall  the  strong  features  of  antiquity. 
These  are  Caesar  and  Cato ;  the  one  the  idol  of  the  people,  whom 
with  real  persuasion  they  adored  as  a  god  ;3  the  other  the  idol  of 
the  senate,  whom  the  Pompeian  poet  exalts  even  above  the  gods.4 
The  contrast  and  balancing  of  the  virtues  of  these  two  great  men 
is  one  of  the  most  effective  passages  in  Sallust.5 

From  his  position  in  public  life  and  from  his  intimacy  with 
Caesar,  he  had  gained  excellent  opportunities  of  acquiring  correct 
information.  The  desire  to  write  history  seems  to  have  come  on 
him  in  latei  life.     Success  had  no  more  illusions  for  him.     The 

1  Dunlop,  ii.  p.  146.  2  Suet.  Caes.  45.  •  lb.  56. 

4  Victrix  causa  dels  placuit,  se>l  vicia  Catoni — Phars.  i.  128.      6  Catil.  58. 


202  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

bitterness  with  which  he  touches  on  his  early  misfortunes s  show* 
that  their  memory  still  rankled  within  him.  And  the  pains  with 
which  he  justifies  his  historial  pursuits  indicate  a  stifled  anxiety 
to  enter  once  more  the  race  for  honours,  which  yet  experience  tells 
him  is  hut  vanity.  The  profligacy  of  his  youth,  grossly  overdrawn 
by  malice,2  was  yet  no  doubt  a  ground  of  remorse ;  and  though 
the  severity  of  his  opening  chapters  is  somewhat  ostentatious,  there 
is  no  intrinsic  mark  of  insincerity  about  them.  They  are,  it  is 
true,  quite  superfluous.  Iugurtha's  trickery  can  be  understood 
without  a  preliminary  discourse  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul ; 
and  Catiline's  character  is  not  such  as  to  suggest  a  preface  on  the 
dignity  of  writing  history.  But  with  all  their  inappropriateness, 
these  introductions  are  valuable  specimens  of  the  writer's  best 
thoughts  and  concentrated  vigour  of  language.  In  the  Catiline, 
his  earliest  work,  he  announces  his  attention  of  subjecting  certain 
episodes  of  Roman  history3  to  a  thorough  treatment,  omitting 
those  parts  which  had  been  done  justice  to  by  former  writers. 
Thus  it  is  improbable  that  Sallust  touched  the  period  of  Sulla,4 
both  from  the  high  opinion  he  formed  of  Sisenna's  account,  and 
from  the  words  neque  alio  loco  de  Sullae  rebus  dicturi  sumus ; 5 
nevertheless,  some  of  the  events  he  selected  doubtless  fell  within 
Sulla's  lifetime,  and  this  may  have  given  rise  to  the  opinion  that 
he  wrote  a  history  of  the  dictator.  Though  Sallust's  Historiae 
are  generally  described  as  a  consecutive  work  from  the  premature 
movements  of  Lepidus  on  Sulla's  death6  (78  b.c.)  to  the  end  of  the 
Mithridatic  war  (63  b.c.)  ;  this  cannot  be  proved.  It  is  equally 
possible  that  his  series  of  independent  historical  cameos  may  have 
been  published  together,  arranged  in  chronological  order,  and  under 
the  common  title  of  Historiae.  The  Iugurtha  and  Catilina,  how- 
ever, are  separate  works;  they  are  always  quoted  as  such,  and 
formed  a  kind  of  commencement  and  finish  to  the  intermediate 
studies. 

Of  the  histories  (in  five  books  dedicated  to  the  younger  Lucul- 
lus),  we  have  but  a  few  fragments,  mostly  speeches,  of  which  the 

1  Cat.  3.     The  chapter  is  very  characteristic ;  Jug.  3,  scarcely  less  so. 

2  Suet.  Gram.  15,  tells  us  that  a  freedman  of  Pompey  named  Lenaeus 
vilified  Sallust ;  he  quotes  one  sentence  :  Nebuloncm  vita  scripiisque  monstro- 
sum;  practerea priscorum  Catonisque  ineruditissivium  furerru  Cf.  Pseudc~ 
Cic.  Decl.  in  Sail.  8  ;  Dio  Hist,  Rom.  43,  9. 

*  Res  gestas  oxrplim  ut  quaeque  memoria  digna  videbantur,  perscriber* 
Cat.  4. 

4  Anson,  id.  iv.  ad  Nepotem  implies  that  he  began  his  history  90  b.u 
Cf.  Plutarch,  Compar.  of  Sulla  and  Lysander.  And  see  on  this  controversy 
Hct.  Biog.  a.  v.  Sallust.  5  Jug.  95.  «  Suet.  J.C.  3. 


SAL  LUST.  203 

s?  le  seems  a  little  fuller  than  usual :  our  judgment  of  the  writes 

must  be  based  upon  the  two  essays  that  have  reached  us  entire, 
that  on  the  war  with  Iugurtha,  and  that  on  the  Catilinarian  con 
spiracy.  Sallust  takes  credit  to  himself,  in  words  that  Tacitus 
has  almost  adopted,1  for  a  strict  impartiality.  Compared  with  his 
predecessors  he  probably  was  impartial,  and  considering  the  close- 
ness of  the  events  to  his  own  time  it  is  doubtful  whether  anv  one 

m 

could  have  been  more  so.  For  he  wisely  confined  himself  to 
periods  neither  too  remote  for  the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses,  nor 
too  recent  for  the  disentanglement  of  truth.  When  Catiline  fell 
(63  B.o.)  the  historian  was  twenty-two  years  old,  and  this  is  the 
latest  point  to  which  his  studies  reach.  As  a  friend  of  Caesar  he 
was  an  enemy  of  Cicero,  and  two  declamations  are  extant,  the 
productions  of  the  reign  of  Claudius,2  in  which  these  two  great 
men  vituperate  one  another.  But  no  vituperation  is  found  in 
Sallust's  works.  There  is,  indeed,  a  coldness  and  reserve,  a  dis- 
inclination to  praise  the  conduct  and  even  the  oratory  of  the 
consul  which  bespeaks  a  mind  less  noble  than  Cicero's.3  But 
facts  are  not  perverted,  nor  is  the  odium  of  an  unconstitutional 
act  thrown  on  Cicero  alone,  as  we  know  it  was  thrown  by 
Caesar's  more  unscrupulous  partisans,  and  connived  at  by  Caesar 
himself.  The  veneration  of  Sallust  for  his  great  chief  is  con- 
spicuous. Caesar  is  brought  into  steady  prominence ;  his  influence 
is  everywhere  implied.  But  Sallust,  however  clearly  he  betrays 
the  ascendancy  of  Caesar  over  himself,4  does  not  on  all  points 
follow  his  lead.  While,  with  Caesar,  he  believes  fortune,  or 
more  properly  chance,  to  rule  human  affairs,  he  retains  his  belief 
in  virtue  and  immortality,5  both  of  which  Caesar  rejected.  lie 
can  not  only  admit,  but  glorify  the  virtues  of  Cato,  which  Caesar 
ridiculed  and  denied.  But  he  is  anxious  to  set  the  democratic 
policy  in  the  most  favourable  light.  Hence  he  depicts  Cato 
rather  thar  Cicero  as  the  senatorial  champion,  because  his  imprac- 
ticable views  seemed  to  justify  Caesar's  opposition;6  he  throws  into 
fierce  relief  the  vices  of  Scaurus  who  was  princeps  Senatus  ;  7  and 
misrepresents  the  conduct  of  Turpilius  through  a  desire  to  screen 
Marius.8  As  to  his  authorities,  we  find  that  he  gave  way  to  the 
prevailing  tendency  bo  manipulate  them.     The  speeches  of  Cap.sa» 

1  A  spe,  mstu,  partibits,  liber. — Cat.  4 ;  cf.  Tac.  Hist.  i.  1.     So  in  tn« 
Annals,  sine  ira  et  studio. 

3  This  is  not  certain,  but  the  consensus  of  scholars  is  in  favour  of  it. 

*  Ot.  31,  Cicero's  speech  is  called  luculenta  atque  utilis  Beijmblicae,  oC 
iK  48. 

4  lb.  8,  41,  compared  with  Caes.  B.  C.  ii.  8  ;  iii.  58,  60. 

*  lb.  1,  compared  with  52  (Caesar's  speech). 

*  See  esp.  Cat.  54.  7  Jug.  15.  •  lb.  67. 


204  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  Cato  in  ths  senate,  whice  he  surely  might  have  transcribe^ 
he  prefers  to  remodel  according  to  his  own  ideas,  eloquently  no 
doubt,  bat  the  originals  would  have  been  in  better  place,  ana 
entitled  him  to  our  gratitude.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
speech  of  Marius.  That  of  Memmius1  he  professes  to  give  intact ; 
but  its  genuineness  is  doubtful.  The  letter  of  Catiline  to  Catulus, 
that  of  Lentulus  and  his  message  to  Catiline,  may  be  accepted  as 
original  documents.2  In  the  sifting  of  less  accessible  authorities 
he  is  culpably  careless.  His  account  of  the  early  history  of  Africa 
is  almost  worthless,  though  he  speaks  of  having  drawn  it  from  the 
books  of  Kin£  Hiempsal,  and  taken  pains  to  insert  what  was 
generally  thought  worthy  of  credit.  It  is  in  the  delineation  of 
character  that  Sallust's  penetration  is  unmistakably  shown. 
Besides  the  instances  already  given,  we  may  mention  the  admir- 
able sketch  of  Sulla,3  and  the  no  less  admirable  ones  of  Catiline4 
and  Iugurtha.5  His  power  of  depicting  the  terrors  of  conscience 
is  tremendous.  No  language  can  surpass  in  condensed  but  lifelike 
intensity  the  terms  in  which  he  paints  the  guilty  noble  carrying 
remorse  on  his  countenance  and  driven  by  inward  agony  to  acts 
of  desperation.6 

His  style  is  peculiar.  He  himself  evidently  imitated,  and  was 
thought  by  Quintilian  to  rival,  Thucydides.7  But  the  resem- 
blance is  in  language  only.  The  deep  insight  of  the  Athenian 
into  the  connexion  of  events  is  far  removed  from  the  popular 
rhetoric  in  which  the  Roman  deplores  the  decline  of  virtue.  And 
the  brevity,  by  which  both  are  characterised,  while  in  the  one  it 
is  nothing  but  the  incapacity  of  the  hand  to  keep  pace  with  the 
rush  of  thought,  in  the  other  forms  the  artistic  result  of  a  careful 
process  of  excision  and  compression.  While  the  one  kindles 
reflection,  the  other  baulks  it.  Nevertheless  the  style  of  Sallust 
has  a  special  charm  and  will  always  find  admirers  to  give  it 
the  palm  among  Latin  histories.  The  archaisms  which  adorn  or 
deface  it,  the  poetical  constructions  which  tinge  its  classicality,  the 
rough  periods  without  particles  of  connexion  which  impart  to 
it  a  masculine  hardness,  are  so  fused  together  into  a  harmonious 
fabric  that  after  the  first  reading  most  students  recur  to  it  with 
penuine  pleasure.8     On  the  whole  it  is  more  modern  than  that  of 

1  Jug.  31.  •  Cat.  35,  43  ;  cf.  also  ch.  49.  5  Jug.  95. 

4  Cat.  5.  *  Jug.  6,  sqq.  c  Cat.  15,  and  very  similarly  Jug.  72. 

7  Quint,  x.  1,  K»,c  opponere  Thucydidi  Sallustium  verear.  The  most 
obvious  iaitatiDns  are,  Cat.  12,  13,  where  the  general  decline  of  virtue  seems 
based  ou  Thuo.  iii.  S2,  83  ;  and  the  speeches  which  obviously  take  his  for  a 
model. 

8  As  instances  we  give — multo  maxime  miserabile  (Cat.  3G),  incultus,  Hi 
(54),  neglegiuei  (Jug.  40),  discordicsus  (6(5),  &c.     Poetical  constructions  an 


SALLUST.  205 

Nepos,  and  resembles  more  than  any  other  that  of  Tacitus.  IU 
brevity  rarely  falls  into  obscurity,  thoigh  it  sometimes  borders  on 
affectation.  There  is  an  appearance  as  if  he  was  never  satisfied, 
but  always  straining  after  an  excellence  beyond  his  powers.  It 
is  emphatically  a  cultured  style,  and,  as  such  often  recalls  oldei 
authors.  Now  it  is  a  reminiscence  of  Homer :  aliud  clausum  in 
pecfore,  aliud  in  lingua  promptum  habere;1  now  of  a  Latin 
tragedian  :  secundae  res  sapientium  animos  fatigant.  Much  allow- 
ance must  be  made  for  Sallust's  defects,  when  we  remember  that 
no  model  of  historical  writing  yet  existed  at  Rome.  Some  of  the 
aphorisms  which  are  scattered  in  his  book  are  wonderfully  con- 
densed, and  have  passed  into  proverbs.  Concordia  parvae  res 
crescunt  from  the  Iugurtha  ;  and  idem  velle,  idem  nolle,  ea  demum 
firma  amicitia  est,  from  the  Catiline,  are  instances  familiar  to  alL 
The  prose  of  Sallust  differs  from  that  of  Cicero  in  being  less 
rhythmical;  the  hexametrical  ending  which  the  orator  rightly 
rejects,  is  in  him  not  infrequent.  It  is  probably  a  concession  to 
Greek  habit.2  Sallust  did  good  service  in  pointing  out  what  his- 
torical writing  should  be,  and  his  example  was  of  such  service  to 
Livy  that,  had  it  not  been  for  him,  it  is  possible  the  great  master- 
history  would  never  have  been  designed. 

It  does  not  appear  that  this  period  was  fruitful  in  historians. 
Tubero  (49-47  b.c.)  is  the  only  other  whose  works  are  men 
tioned;  the  convulsions  of  the  state,  the  short  but  sullen  repose, 
broken  by  Caesar's  death  (44  b.c),  the  bloodthirsty  sway  of  the 
triumvirs,  and  the  contests  which  ended  in  the  final  overthrow  at 
Actium  (31  b.c),  were  not  favourable  to  historical  enterprise.  But 
private  notes  were  carefully  kept,  and  men's  memories  were 
strengthened  by  silence,  so  that  circumstances  naturally  inculcated 
waiting  in  patience  until  the  time  for  speaking  out  should  have 
arrived.3 

— Inf.  for  gerund,  often  ;  pleraque  nobilitas  for  maxima  pars  nobilium  (CaU 
17).     For  asyndeton  cf.  Cat.  5,  et  saepiss. 

1  Cat.  10.    The  well-knownjine  '6s  x  erepov  pev  nevdoi  4v\  4>pca)v,  &\\o  54 
0d(oi,  is  the  original. 

*  lb.  i.  1.  virtvs  rjara  aeternaque  habetur ;  obedientia  fnxit. 

•  It  should  perhaps  be  noticed  that  many  MSS.  spell  the  name  Salustim, 


206 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAS"  LITERATURE. 


APPENDIX. 

On  the  Acta  Diurna  and  Acta  Senatus, 


It  is  well  known  that  there  was  a 
fort  of  journal  at  Rome  analogous, 
perhaps,  to  our  Gazette,  but  its  nature 
and  origin  are  somewhat  uncertain. 
Suetonius  (Caes.  20)  has  this  account: 
*"  Inito  honore,  primus  omnium  insti- 
toiit,  ut  tarn  Senatus  quam  populi  di- 
urna acta  conficcrentur  et  publicaren- 
tur,"  which  seems  naturally  to  imply 
that  the  people's  acta  had  been  pub- 
lished every  day  before  Caesar's  consul- 
ship, and  that  he  did  the  same  thing 
for  the  acta  of  the  senate.  Before 
investigating  these  we  must  distin- 
guish them  from  certain  other  acta: — 
(I)  Civilia,  containing  a  register  of 
births,  deaths,  marriages,  and  divor- 
ces, called  atroypa<pal  by  Polybius,  and 
alluded  to  by  Cicero  (ad  Fam.  viii.  7) 
and  others.  These  were  at  first  in- 
trusted to  the  care  of  the  censors, 
afterwards  to  the  praefectiaerarii.  (2) 
Forensia,  comprising  lists  of  laws, 
plebiscites,  elections  of  aediles,  tri- 
bunes, &c.  like  the  drmoaia  ypd/xfiaTa 
at  Athens,  placed  among  the  archives 
annexed  to  various  temples,  especially 
that  of  Saturn.  (3)  ludiciaria,  the 
legal  reports,  often  called  gesta,  kept 
in  a  special  tabularium,  under  the 
charge  of  military  men  discharged 
from  active  service.  (4)  Militaria, 
which  contained  reports  of  all  the  men 
employed  in  war,  their  height,  age, 
conduct,  accomplishments,  &c.  These 
were  entrusted  to  an  officer  called  lib- 
larius  legionis  (Veg.  ii.  19),  or  some- 
times tabular Lus  castrensis,  but  so  only 
in  the  later  Latin.  Other  less  strictly 
foTmal  documents,  as  lists  of  cases, 
precedentr,  &c.  seem  to  have  been  also 
failed  acta,  but  the  above  are  the 
regular  kinds. 

The  Acta  Senatus  or  deliberations  of 
the  senate  were  not  published  until 
Caesar.  They  wrere  kept  jealously 
bee  ret,  as  is  proved  by  a  quaint  story 
by  Cato,  quoted  in  Aulus  Gellius  (i. 
23).  At  all  important  deliberations 
a  senator,  usually  the  praetor  as  being 


one  of  the  junior  members,  acted  et 
secretary.  In  the  imperial  times  this 
functionary  was  always  a  confidant  of 
the  emperor.  The  acta  were  fore- 
times inscribed  on  tabulae  publico* 
(Cic.  pro  Sull.  14,  15),  but  only  on 
occasions  when  it  was  held  expedient 
to  make  them  known.  As  a  rule  the 
publication  of  the  resolution  (Senatu* 
Consultum)  was  the  first  intimation 
the  people  had  of  the  decisions  of  their 
rulers.  In  the  times  of  the  emperors 
there  were  also  acta  of  each  emperor, 
apparently  the  memoranda  of  state 
councils  held  by  him,  and  communi- 
cated to  the  senate  for  them  to  act 
upon.  There  appears  also  to  have 
been  acta  of  private  families  when  the 
estates  were  large  enough  to  make  it 
worth  while  to  keep  them.  These  are 
alluded  to  in  Petronius  Arbiter  (ch. 
53).  We  are  now  come  to  the  Acta 
Diurna,  Populi,  Urbana  or  Publicat 
by  all  which  names  the  same  thing  is 
meant.  The  earliest  allusion  to  them 
is  in  a  passage  of  Sempronius  Asellio, 
who  distinguishes  the  annals  from  the 
diaria,  which  the  Greeks  call  e<pnft€pis 
(ap.  A.  Gell.  V.  18).  When  about 
the  year  131  B  c.  the  Annalcs  were 
redacted  into  a  complete  form,  the 
acta  probably  begun.  When  Servras 
(ad.  Aen.  i.  373)  says  that  the  Annates 
registered  each  day  all  noteworthy 
events  that  had  occurred,  he  is  ap- 
parently confounding  them  with  l««* 
acta,  which  seem  to  have  qiueuy 
taken  their  place.  During  the  time 
that  Cicero  was  absent  in  Cilicia  (62 
B.C.)  he  received  the  newTs  of  town 
from  his  friend  Coelius  (Cic.  Fam. 
viii.  1,  8,  12,  &c).  These  news  com- 
prised all  the  topics  which  we  should 
find  now-a-days  in  a  da  ily  paper.  As- 
conius  Pedianus,  a  commentator  on 
Cicero  of  the  time  of  Claudius,  in  hi« 
notes  on  the  Milo  (p.  47,  ed.  OrelL 
1833),  quotes  several  passages  from 
the  acta,  on  the  authority  of  whi;:h 
he   bases    some    of   his    arguments. 


ACTA  DIURNA. 


201 


imong  them  are  analyses  of  forensic 
orations,  political  *nd  judicial;  and 
it  is  therefore  prooable  that  these 
formed  a  regular  portion  of  the  daily 
journal  in  the  latest  age  of  the  Re- 
public. When  Antony  offered  Caesar 
a  crown  on  the  feast  of  the  Lupercalia, 
Caesar  ordered  it  to  be  noted  in  the 
acta  (Dio  xliv.  11);  Antony,  as  we 
know  from  Cicero,  even  entered  the 
fact  in  the  Fasti,  or  religious  calendar. 
Augustus  continued  the  publication  of 
the  Acta  Populi,  under  certain  limita- 
tions, analogous  to  the  control  exer- 
cised over  journalism  bv  the  govaro- 


ments  of  modern  Europe;  but  he  in- 
terdicted that  of  the  Acta  Senatw 
(Suet.  Aug.  36).  Later  emperors 
abridged  even  this  liberty.  A  portico 
in  Rome  having  been  in  danger  of  fall- 
ing and  shored  up  by  a  skilful  archi- 
tect, Tiberius  forbade  the  publication 
of  his  name  (Dio  Ivii.  21).  Nero  re- 
laxed the  supervision  of  the  press,  but 
it  was  afterwards  re-established.  For 
the  genuine  fragments  of  the  Acta,  see 
the  treatise  by  Vet.  Le  Clerc,  sur  les 
joumaux  chez  les  Uomaint^  from 
which  this  notice  is  takes* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Ihk  Hmonr  op  Poetry   to   the  Close  dp  the  Kepubiio— * 
Risb  op  Alexandrinism — Lucretius — Catullus. 

As  long  as  the  drama  was  cultivated  poetry  had  not  ceased  to  be 
popular  in  its  tone.  But  we  have  already  mentioned  that  coinci- 
dentally  with  the  rise  of  Sulla  dramatic  productiveness  ceased. 
We  hear,  indeed,  that  J.  Caesar  Strabo  (about  90  b.c.)  wrote 
tragedies,  but  they  were  probably  never  performed.  Comedy,  as 
iitherto  practised,  was  almost  equally  mute.  The  oidy  forms 
that  lingered  on  were  the  Atellanae,  and  those  few  plebeian  types 
of  comedy  known  as  Togata  and  Tabernaria.  But  even  these 
had  now  withered.  The  present  epoch  brings  before  us  a  fresh 
type  of  composition  in  the  Mime,  which  now  first  took  a  literary 
shape.  Mimes  had  indeed  existed  in  some  sort  from  a  very  early 
period,  but  no  art  had  been  applied  to  their  cultivation,  and 
they  had  held  a  position  much  inferior  to  that  of  the  national 
farce.  But  several  circumstances  now  conspired  to  bring  them 
into  greater  prominence.  First,  the  great  increase  of  luxury  and 
show,  and  with  it  the  appetite  for  the  gaudy  trappings  of  the 
spectacle;  secondly,  the  failure  of  legitimate  drama,  and  the  fact 
that  the  Atellanae,  with  their  patrician  surroundings,  were  only 
half  popular;  and  lastly,  the  familiarity  with  the  different  offshoots 
of  Greek  comedy,  thrown  out  in  rank  profusion  at  Alexandria, 
and  capable  of  assimilation  with  the  plastic  materials  of  the  Mimus. 
These  worthless  products,  issued  under  the  names  of  Ehinthon, 
Sopater,  Sciras,  and  Timon,  were  conspicuous  for  the  entire 
absence  of  restraint  with  which  they  treated  serious  subjects,  as 
well  as  for  a  merry-andrew  style  of  humour  easily  naturalised,  if 
it  were  not  already  present,  among  the  huge  concourse  of  idlers 
who  came  to  sate  their  appetite  for  indecency  without  altogether 
sacrificing  the  pretence  of  a  dramatic  spectacle.  Two  things 
marked  off  the  Mimus  from  the  Atellana  or  national  farce';  the 
players  appeared  without  masks,1  and  women  were  allowed  to  act 
1  The  actors  in  the  Atellanae  not  only  wore  masks  but  had  the  privilf g» 


THE  MIMES.  20? 

This  opened  the  gates  to  licentiousness.  We  find  from  Cicero 
that  Mimae  bore  a  disreputable  character,1  but  from  their  personal 
charms  and  accomplishments  often  became  the  chosen  companions 
of  the  profligate  nobles  of  the  day.  Under  the  Empire  this  was 
still  more  the  case.  Kingsley,  in  his  Hypatia,  has  given  a  lifelike 
sketch  of  one  of  these  elegant  but  dissolute  females.  To  these 
seductive  innovations  the  Mime  added  some  conservative  features, 
ft  absorbed  many  characteristics  of  legitimate  comedy.  The  actors 
were  not  necessarily  planiped.es  in  fact,  though  they  remained  so 
in  name;2  they  might  wear  the  soccus3  and  the  Greek  dress4  of  the 
higher  comedy.  The  Mimes  seem  to  have  formed  at  this  time 
interludes  between  the  acts  of  a  regular  drama.  Hence  they  were 
at  once  simple  and  short,  seasoned  with  as  many  coarse  jests  as 
could  be  crowded  into  a  limited  compass,  with  plenty  of  music, 
dancing,  and  expressive  gesture-language.  Their  plot  was  always 
the  same,  and  never  failed  to  please;  it  struck  the  key-note  of  all 
decaying  societies,  the  discomiiturp  of  the  husband  by  the  wife.5 
Nevertheless,  popular  as  was  the  Mime,  it  was,  even  in  Caesar's 
time,  obliged  to  share  the  palm  of  attractiveness  with  bear-fights, 
boxing  matches,  processions  of  strange  beasts,  foreign  treasures, 
captives  of  uncouth  aspect,  and  other  curiosities,  which  passed 
sometimes  for  hours  across  the  stage,  feeding  the  gaze  of  an 
unlettered  crowd,  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  drama  and  interlude 
alike.  Thirty  years  later,  Horace6  declares  that  against  such  com- 
petitors no  play  could  get  a  silent  hearing. 

of  refusing  to  take  them  off  if  they  acted  "badly,  which  was  the  penalty 
exacted  from  those  actors  in  the  legitimate  drama  who  failed  to  satisfy  their 
audience.  Masks  do  not  appear  to  have  been  used  even  in  the  drama  until 
about  100  B.C. 

1  Second  Philippic.  *  Planipedes  audit  Fabios.     Juv.  viii.  190. 

3  "  Or  Jonsoris  learned  sock  be  on.1"  Milton  here  adopts  the  Latin  synonyme 
for  comedy.  4  The  Pallium.     This,  of  course,  was  not  always  worn. 

5  Ovid's  account  of  the  Mimus  is  drawn  to  the  life,  and  is  instructive  as 
showing  the  moral  food  provided  for  the  people  under  the  paternal  govern- 
ment of  the  emperors  (Tr.  ii.  497).  As  an  excuse  for  his  own  free  language 
he  says,  Quid  si  scripsissim  Mimos  obscaena  iocantes  Qui  semper  vetiti  criyncn 
amoris  habent;  In  qi/ibus  assidue  cultus  procedit  adulter,  Verbaque  dot  stulto 
calluia  nupta  viro?  Nubilis  haec  virgo,  matronaque,  virque,  puerque  Spectatt 
ei  ex  magna  parte  Senatus  adest.  Nee  satis  inccstis  temerari  vocibus  aurcs, 
Avmescunt  oculi  multa  pudenda  pati  .  .  .  Quo  mimis  prodest,  scaena  est 
lucrosa  poetae,  &c.  The  laxity  of  the  modern  ballet  is  a  faint  shadow  of  the 
indecency  of  the  Mime. 

8  The  passage  is  as  follows  (Ep.  ii.  1,  185):  Media  inter  carmina  poscunt 
Aid  ursum  aut  pugiles :  his  nam  plebecula  plaudit.  Verum  equitis  quoqut 
iam  miravit  ab  aure  voluptas  Omnia  ad  incertos  oculos  .  .  .  Captivum  por 
tator  ebur,  captiva  Corinthus :  Esseds,  festinant,  pilenta,  petorrita,  naves  .  .  . 
Ridtrct  Democritus,  ft  .  .   .  spectaret  populvm  Indis  aitentius  ipsis  Ut  sib* 

4) 


210  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

This  bt;ing  the  lamentable  state  of  things,  we  are  surprised  te 
find  that  Mime  writing  was  practised  by  two  men  of  vigorous 
talent  and  philosophic  culture,  whose  fragments,  so  far  from 
betraying  any  concession  to  the  prevailing  depravity,  are  above  the 
ordinary  tone  of  ancient  comic  morality.  They  are  the  knight 
D.  Labkkius  (106-43  b.c.)  and  Publilfjs  Syrus  (fl.  44  B.a),  ar 
enfranchised  Syrian  slave.  It  is  probable  that  Caesar  lbLt  hia 
countenance  to  these  writers  in  the  hope  of  raising  their  art.  His 
patronage  was  valuable;  but  he  put  a  great  indignity  (45  b.c.)  on 
Labor i  us.  The  old  man,  for  he  wis  then  sixty  years  of  age,  had 
written  Mimes  for  a  generation,  but  had  never  acted  in  them  him- 
self. Caesar,  whom  he  may  have  offended  by  indiscreet  allusions,1 
recommended  him  to  appear  in  person  against  his  rival  Syrus. 
This  recommendation,  as  he  well  knew,  was  equivalent  to  a 
command.  In  the  prologue  he  expresses  his  sense  of  the 
affront  with  great  manliness  and  force  of  language.  "We  quote 
lome  lines  from  it,  as  a  specimen  of  the  best  plebeian  Latin; 

•'  Necessitas,  ruins  cursus,  transversi  impetum 
Voluenint  multi  effugere,  pauci  potuerunt, 
Quo  me  detru.sit  paene  extremis  sensibus? 
Quern  nulla  ambitio,  nulla  unquam  largitio, 
Null  us  timor,  vis  nulla,  nulla  auctoritas 
Movere  potuit  in  iuventa  de  statu, 
Ecce  in  senecta  ut  facile  labefecit  loco 
Viri  excellentis  meitte  clemente  edita 
Summissa  placide  blandiloquens  oratio! 
Et  enim  ipsi  di  negare  cui  nil  potuerunt, 
Hominem  me  denegare  quis  posset  pati? 
Ego  bis  tricenis  actis  annis  sine  nota, 
Eques  Romanus  e  lare  egressus  meo, 
Domnra  revertormimus — ni  minim  hoc  die 
Uno  plus  vixi  mihi  quam  vivendum  fuit. 

•  •••••* 

Porro,  Quirites,  libertatem  perdimus."  * 

In  these  noble  lines  we  see  the  native  eloquence  of  a  free  spirit 
But  the  poet's  wrathful  muse  roused  itself  in  vain.  Caesar 
awarded  the  prize  to  Syrus,  saying  to  Laberius  in  an  impromptu 
verse  of  polite  condescension, 

li  Fa  veil  te  tibi  me  victus,  Laberi,  es  a  Syro."8 

From  this  time  the  old  knight  surrendered  the  stage  to  hia 
younger  and  more  polished  rival. 

praebentcm  mimo  spectacula  vlura,  etc.  From  certain  remarks  in  Cicero  w« 
gather  that  things  were  not  much  better  even  in  his  day. 

1  This  i*  *hat  Gellius  (xvii.  14,  2)  says 

*  The  whole  is  preserved,  Macrob.  S.  ii.  7,  and  is  well  worth  reading; 

■  Cic  ad  Att.  xii.  18. 


THE  MIMES.  211 

iSyrus  was  a  native  of  Antioch,  and  remarkable  from  his  child« 
hood  for  the  beauty  of  his  person  and  his  sparkling  wit,  to  which  he 
owed  his  freedom.  His  talent  soon  raised  him  to  eminence  as  an 
improvisatore  and  dramatic  declaimer.  He  trusted  mostly  to 
extempore  inspiration  when  acting  his  Mimes,  but  wrote  certain 
episodes  where  it  was  necessary  to  do  so.  His  works  abounded 
with  moral  apophthegms,  tersely  expressed.  Wo  possess  857 
verses,  arranged  in  alphabetical  order,  ascribed  to  him,  of  which 
perhaps  half  are  genuine.  This  collection  was  made  early  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  when  it  was  much  used  for  purposes  of  education. 
We  append  a  few  examples  of  these  sayings : x 

"  Beneficium  dando  accipit,  qui  digno  dedit." 

"  Furor  fit  laesa  saepius  patientia." 

"  Comes  facundus  in  via  pro  vehiculo  est" 

'*  Minium  altercando  Veritas  amittitur." 

"  Iniuriarum  remedium  est  oblivio." 

"  Malum  est  consilium  quod  mutari  non  potest. * 

"  Nunquam  periclum  sine  periclo  vincitur." 

Horace  mentions  Laberius  not  uncomplimentarily,  though  he  pro- 
fesses no  interest  in  the  sort  of  composition  he  represented.8 
Perhaps  he  judged  him  by  his  audience.  Besides  these  two  men, 
On.  Matius  (about  44  b.c.)  also  wrote  Mvmiambi  about  the  same 
date.  They  are  described  as  Mimicae  fabulae,  versibus  plerunque 
iambicis  conscrijptae,3  and  appear  to  have  differed  in  some  way 
from  the  actual  mimes,  probably  in  not  being  represented  on  the 
stage.  They  reappear  in  the  time  of  Pliny,  whose  friend 
Verginius  Romanus  (he  tells  us  in  one  of  his  letters4)  wrote 
Mimiambi  tenuiterf  argute,  venuste,  et  in  hoc  genere  eloquentissime. 
This  shows  that  for  a  long  time  a  certain  refinement  and  elabora- 
tion was  compatible  with  the  style  of  Mime  writing.5 

The  Pantomimi  have  been  confused  with  the  Mimi ;  but  they 
differed  in  being  dancers,  not  actors ;  they  represent  the  inevitable 
development  of  the  mimic  art,  which,  as  Ovid  says  in  his 
Tristia,6  even  in  its  earlier  manifestations,  enlisted  the  eye  a- 
much  as  the  ear.  In  Imperial  times  they  almost  engrossed  the 
stage.  Pylades  and  Bathyllus  are  monuments  of  a  depraved 
taste,  which  could  raise  these  men  to  offices  of  state,  and  seek 

1  See  A  pp.  note  2,  for  more  about  Syrus. 

2  Hor.  Sat.  i.  x.  6,  where  he  compares  him  to  Lucilius. 

9  Examples  quoted  by  Gellius,  x.  24  ;  xv.  25.  *  vi.  21. 

6  We  should  infer  this  also  from  allusions  to  Pythagorean  tenets,  and 
other  philosophical  questions,  which  occur  in  the  extant  fragments  of 
Mimes.  «Tr.  ii.  503,  4. 


212  HISTORY  OF  KOMAN  LITER  AT  UKE. 

tlieir  society  with  such  zeal  that  the  emperors  were  compelled 
to  issue  stringent  enactments  to  forbid  it.  Tigellius  seems  to 
have  been  the  first  of  these  effeminati;  he  is  satirised  by  Horace,1 
but  his  influence  was  inappreciable  compared  with  that  of  hia 
successors.  The  pantomimus  aspired  to  render  the  emotions  of 
terror  or  love  more  speakingly  by  gesture  than  it  was  possible 
to  do  by  speech;  and  ancient  critics,  while  deploring,  seem  to 
have  admitted  this  claim.  The  moral  effect  of  such  exhibitiona 
may  be  imagined.2 

It  is  pleasing  to  find  that  in  Cicero's  time  the  interpretation  of 
the  great  dramatists'  conceptions  exercised  the  talents  of  several 
illustrious  actors,  the  two  best-known  of  whom  are  Aesopus,  the 
tragedian  (12 2-54 b.c),  and  Roscius,the  comic  actor  (1 20-6 1  ?  B.C.),3 
After  the  exhaustion  of  dramatic  creativeness  a  period  of  splendid 
representation  naturally  follows.  It  was  so  in  Germany  and  Eng- 
land, it  was  so  at  Rome.  Of  the  two  men,  Roscius  was  the 
greater  master ;  he  was  so  perfect  in  his  art  that  his  name  became 
a  synonym  for  excellence  in  any  branch.4  Neither  of  them,  how- 
ever, embraced,  as  Garrick  did,  both  departments  of  the  art ;  their 
provinces  were  and  always  remained  distinct.  Both  had  the  privi- 
lege of  Cicero's  friendship ;  both  no  doubt  lent  him  the  benefit  of 
their  professional  advice.  The  interchange  of  hints  between  an 
orator  and  an  actor  was  not  unexampled.  When  Hortensius 
spoke,  Roscius  always  attended  to  study  his  suggestive  gestures, 
and  it  is  told  of  Cicero  himself  that  he  and  Roscius  strove  which 
could  express  the  higher  emotions  more  perfectly  by  his  art. 
Roscius  was  a  native  of  Solonium,  a  Latin  town,  his  praenomen 
was  Quintus ;  Aesopus  appears  to  have  been  a  freedman  of  the 
Claudia  gens.  Of  other  actors  few  were  well-known  enough  to 
merit  notice.  Some  imagine  Dossennus,  mentioned  by  Horace,5 
to  have  been  an  actor;  but  he  is  much  more  likely  to  be  the 
Fabius  Dossennus  quoted  as  an  author  of  Atdlanae  by  Pliny  in 
his  Natural  Histo7't/.6  The  freedom  with  which  popular  actors 
were  allowed  to  treat  their  original  is  shown  by  Aesopus  on  one 

1  S.  1--3,  et  al. 

8  Veil.  Pat.  ii.  83,  where  Plancus  dancing  the  character  of  Glaucus  i*> 
described,  cf.  Juv.  vi.  63. 

3  Quae  gravis  Aesopus,  quae  doctus  Roscius  egit  (Ep.  ii.  1,  82).  Quintilian 
(List.  Or.  xi.  3)  says,  Roscius  citatior,  Aesopus  gravior  fuit,  quod  Me  comoe* 
dias,  hie  tragoedias  cgit. 

4  Cic.  de  Or.  i.  28,  130.  As  Cicero  in  his  oration  for  Sextins  mentions  thi 
expression  of  Aesopus's  eyes  and  face  while  acting,  it  is  supposed  that  he  did 
not  always  wear  a  mask. 

8Ep.  ii.  1,  173. 

•  xiv.  15.  Others  again  think  the  name  expresses  one  of  the  staudimj 
characters  of  the  Atellanac,  like  the  Maccus,  etc. 


POETRY  OF  CICERO  AND  CAESAR.  2  IS 

occasion  (62  B.C.  T)  changing  the  words  Brutus  qui  patriam  st&bili- 
verat  to  Tullius,  a  change  which,  falling  in  with  the  people's 
humour  at  the  moment,  was  vociferously  applauded,  and  gratified 
Cicero's  vanity  not  a  little.1  Aesopus  died  soon  after  (54  3.0.) ; 
Roscius  did  not  live  so  long.  His  marvellous  beauty  when  a  youth 
is  the  subject  of  a  fine  epigram  by  Lutatius  Catulus,  already 
referred  to.2  Both  amassed  large  fortunes,  and  lived  in  princely 
st  vie. 

While  the  stage  was  given  up  to  Mimes,  cultured  men  wrote 
tragedies  for  their  improvement  in  command  of  language.  Both 
Cicero  and  his  brother  wrought  assiduously  at  these  frigid  imita- 
tions. Caesar  followed  in  their  steps ;  and  no  doubt  the  practice 
was  conducive  to  copiousness  and  to  an  effective  simulation  of 
passion.  Their  appearance  as  orators  before  the  people  must  have 
called  out  such  different  mental  qualities  from  their  cold  and  cal- 
culating intercourse  with  one  another,  that  tragedy  writing  as  well 
as  declaiming  may  have  been  needful  to  keep  themselves  ready 
for  an  emergency.  Cicero,  as  is  well  known,  tried  hard  to  gair» 
fame  as  a  poet.  The  ridicule  which  all  ages  have  lavished  on  his 
unhappy  efforts  has  been  a  severe  punishment  for  his  want  of 
self-knowledge.  Still,  judging  from  the  verses  that  remain,  we 
cannot  deny  him  the  praise  of  a  correct  and  elegant  versateur. 
Besides  several  translations  from  Homer  and  Euripides  scattered 
through  his  works,  and  a  few  quotations  by  hostile  critics  from 
his  epic  attempts,3  we  possess  a  large  part  of  his  translation  of 
Aratus's  Phaenom&na,  written,  indeed,  in  his  early  days,  but  a 
graceful  specimen  of  Latin  verse,  and,  as  Munro4  has  shown, 
carefully  studied  and  often  imitated  by  Lucretius.  The  most 
noticeable  point  of  metre  is  his  disregard  of  the  final  s,  no  less 
than  thrice  in  the  first  ninety  lines,  a  practice  which  in  later  life 
he  stigmatised  as  subrusticum.  In  other  respects  his  hexameters 
are  a  decided  advance  on  those  of  Ennius  in  point  of  smoothness 
though  not  of  strength.  He  still  affects  Greek  caesuras  which  are 
not  suited  to  the  Latin  cadence,5  and  his  rhythm  generally  lacks 
variety. 

1  Pro  Sext.  58.  *  See  Book  i.  chapter  viii. 

8  These  were  doubtless  much  the  worst  of  his  poetical  effusions.  It  was 
in  them  that  the  much-abused  lines  Ofortunam  natam  me  Conside  Romam, 
and  Ccdant  arma  togae,  concedat  laurea  laudi,  occurred.  See  Forsyth,  Vit. 
Cic.  p.  10,  11.  His  gesta  Marii  was  the  tribute  of  an  admiring  fellow- 
townsman.  4  In  the  preface  to  his  Lucretius. 

5  E.g.  Inferior  paulo  est  Aries  et  fluinen  ad  Austri  Inclinatior.  Atque 
ttiam,  etc.  v.  77  ;  and  he  gives  countless  examples  of  that  break  after  the 
fourth  foot  which  Lucretius  also  affects,  e.g.  Arcturiis  nomine  claro.  Two  or 
three  lines  are  imitated  by  Virgil,  i  g.  v.  1,  ab  Jove  Musarwm  primordia;  s* 


214  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Caesar's  pen  was  nearly  as  prolific.  He  wrote  besides  an  Oedipm 
a  poem  called  Laudes  Herculis,  and  a  metrical  account  of  a  journey 
into  Spain  called  Iter.1  Sportive  effusions  on  various  plants  are 
attributed  to  him  by  Pliny.2  All  these  Augustus  wisely  refused 
to  publish ;  but  there  remain  two  excellent  epigrams,  one  on 
Terence,  already  alluded  to,  which  is  undoubtedly  genuine,3  the 
other  probably  so,  though  others  ascribe  it  to  Germanicus  or  Domi- 
tian.4  But  the  rhythm,  purity  of  language,  and  continuous 
structure  of  the  couplets  seem  to  point,  indisputably  to  an  earlier 
age.     It  is  as  follows — 


(«  r 


Thrax  puer,  astricto  glacie  dum  ludit  in  Hebro, 
Frigore  coaeretas  ponderc  rupit  aquas. 

Quumque  imae  partes  rapido  traherentur  ab  amne, 
Abscidit,  heu  !  teneruin  lubrica  testa  caput. 

Orba  quod  inventum  mater  dura  conderet  urna, 
'Hoc  peperi  flanimis,  cetera,'  dixit,  'aquis. 


» >» 


This  is  evidently  a  study  from  the  Greek,  probably  from  an 
Alexandrine  writer. 

We  have  already  had  occasion  more  than  once  to  mention  the 
influence  of  Alexandria  on  Eoman  literature.  Since  the  fall  of 
Carthage  Eome  had  had  much  intercourse  with  the  capital  of  the 
Greek  world.  Hur  thought,  erudition,  and  style,  had  acted 
strongly  upon  the  rude  imitators  of  Greek  refinement.  Hut 
hitherto  the  Eonians  had  not  been  ripe  for  receiving  their  influ- 
ence in  full  In  Cicero's  time,  however,  and  in  a  great  measure 
owing  to  his  labours,  Latin  composition  of  all  kinds  had  advanced 
so  far  that  writers,  and  especially  poets,  began  to  feel  capable  of 
rivalling  their  Alexandrian  models.  This  type  of  Hellenism  was 
so  eminently  suited  to  Eoman  comprehension  that,  once  introduced, 
it  could  not  fail  to  produce  striking  results.  The  results  it 
actually  produced  were  so  vast,  and  in  a  way  so  successful,  that 
we  must  pause  a  moment  to  contemplate  the  rise  of  the  city  which 
was  connected  with  them. 

Alexander  did  not  err  in  selecting  the  mouth  of  the  Nile  foi 
the  capital  that  should  perpetuate  his  name.  Its  site,  its  asso- 
ciations, religious,  artistic,  and  scientific,  and  the  tide  of  commerce 
that  was  certain  to  flow  through  it,  all  suggested  the  coast  of 
."Egypt  as  the  fittest  point  of  attraction  for  the  industry  of  the 
Eastern  world,  while  the  rapid  fall  of  the  other  kingdoms  tnat 

V.  21,  obstipum  caput  et  tereti  cervice  reflexum.     The  rhythm  of  v.  '6,  cum 

eaeloque  simul  noc'csque  dicsque  feruntur,  suggests  a  well-knowu  line  iu  tlie 

eighth  Aeneid,  olli  remigio  noctcmque  diemque  fatigant. 

1  Suet.  J.  C.  56.  2  N.  H.  xix.  7.  3  Suet.  vit.  Ter.  see  page  51, 

4  See  Bernhardy  Grundr.  der  K.  L.    Amu,  200,  also  Caes.  Op.  ed.  S 

Clarke,  1778. 


ALEXANDRIA.  215 

rose  from  the  ruins  of  his  Empire  contributed  to  make  the  new 
Merchant  City  the  natural  inheritor  of  his  great  ideas.  The 
Ptolemies  well  fulfilled  the  task  which  Alexander's  foresight  ha<2 
set  before  them.  They  aspired  to  make  their  capital  the  centre 
not  only  of  commercial  but  of  intellectual  production,  and  the 
^.poeitory  of  all  that  was  most  venerable  in  religion,  literature, 
and  art.  To  achieve  this  end,  they  acted  with  the  magnificence 
as  well  as  the  unscrupulousness  of  great  monarchs.  At  their  com 
mand,  a  princely  city  rose  from  the  sandhills  and  rushes  of  ths 
Canopic  mouth ;  stately  temples  uniting  Greek  proportion  with 
Egyptian  grandeur,  long  quays  with  sheltered  docks,  ingenious 
contrivances  for  purifying  the  Nile  water  and  conducting  a  supply 
to  every  considerable  house  ;a  in  short,  every  product  of  a  luxu- 
rious civilisation  was  found  there,  except  the  refreshing  shade  of 
green  trees,  which,  beyond  a  few  of  the  commoner  kinds,  could 
not  be  forced  to  grow  on  the  shifting  sandy  soiL  The  great 
glory  of  Alexandria,  however,  was  its  public  library.  Founded 
by  Soter  (306-285  b.c),  greatly  extended  by  Philadelphus 
(285-247  B.C.),  under  whom  grammatical  studies  attained  their 
highest  development,  enriched  by  Euergetes  (247-212  B.c.)  with 
genuine  MSS.  of  authors  fraudulently  obtained  from  their  owners 
to  whom  he  sent  back  copies  made  by  his  own  librarians,2  this 
collection  reached  under  the  last-named  sovereign  the  enormous 
total  of  532,800  volumes,  of  which  the  great  majority  were  kept 
in  the  museum  which  formed  part  of  the  royal  palace,  and  about 
50,000  of  the  most  precious  in  the  temple  of  Serapis,  the  patron 
deity  of  the  city.3  Connected  with  the  museum  were  various 
endowments  analogous  to  our  professorships  and  fellowships  of 
colleges  ;  under  the  Ptolemies  the  head  librarian,  in  after  times 
the  professor  of  rhetoric,  held  the  highest  post  within  this  ancient 
university.  The  librarian  was  usually  chief  priest  of  one  of  the 
greatest  gods,  Isis,  Osiris,  or  Serapis.4  His  appointment  was  for 
Hfe,  and  lay  at  the  disposal  of  the  monarch.  Thus  the  museum 
was  essentially  a  court  institution,  and  its  savants  and  littera- 
teurs were  accomplished  courtiers  and  men  of  the  world.  Learn- 
ing being  thus  nursed  as  in  a  hot-bed,  its  products  were  rank, 

1  De  Bell.  Alex.  4. 

*  Whenever  a  ship  touched  at  Alexandria,  Euergetes  sent  for  any  MSS. 
the  captain  might  have  on  board.  These  were  detained  in  the  museum  and 
labelled  rb  in  r&v  ir\olu>v. 

8  The  museum  was  situated  in  the  quarter  of  the  city  called  Bruchcium 
(Spartian.  in  Hadr.  20).  See  Don.  and  Muller,  Hist.  Gk.  Lit.  vol.  II. 
chap.  45. 

4  The  school  of  Alexandria  did  not  become  a  religious  centre  until  a  latel 
date.     The  priestly  functions  of  the  librarians  are  historically  urdmpovtant 


216  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

but  neither  hardy  nor  natural.  They  took  the  form  of  recond**.* 
mythological  erudition,  grammar  and  exegesis,  and  laborious 
imitation  of  the  ancients.  In  science  only  was  there  a  healthy 
spirit  of  research.  Mathematics  were  splendidly  represented  by 
Euclid  and  Archimedes,  Geography  by  Eratosthenes,  Astronomy 
by  Hipparchus  ;  for  these  men,  though  not  all  residents  in  Alex- 
andria, all  gained  their  principles  and  method  from  study  within 
her  walls.  To  Aristarchus  (fl.  180  b.c.)  and  his  contempo- 
raries we  owe  the  final  revision  of  the  Greek  classic  texts  ;  and 
the  service  thus  done  to  scholarship  and  literature  was  incalculable. 
But  the  earlier  Alexandrines  seem  to  have  been  overwhelmed  by 
the  vastness  of  material  at  their  command.  Except  in  pastoral 
poetry,  which  in  reality  was  not  Alexandrine,1  there  was  no  crea- 
tive talent  shown  for  centuries.  The  true  importance  of  Alexan- 
dria in  the  history  of  thought  dates  from  Plotinus  (about  200  ad.), 
who  first  clearly  taught  that  mystic  philosophy  which  under  the 
name  of  Neoplatonism,  has  had  so  enduring  a  fascination  for  the 
human  spirit.  It  was  not,  however,  for  philosophy,  science, 
or  theology  that  the  Romans  went  to  Alexandria.  It  was  for 
literary  models  which  should  less  hopelessly  defy  imitation  than 
those  of  old  Greece,  and  for  general  views  of  life  which  should 
approve  themselves  to  their  growing  enlightenment.  These  they 
found  in  the  half-Greek,  half-cosmopolitan  culture  which  had 
there  taken  root  and  spread  widely  in  the  East.  Even  before 
Alexander's  death  there  had  been  signs  of  the  internal  break-up 
of  Hellenism,  now  that  it  had  attained  its  perfect  development. 
Out  of  Athens  pure  Hellenism  had  at  no  time  been  able  to 
express  itself  successfully  in  literature.  And  even  in  Athens  the 
burden  of  Atticism,  if  we  may  say  so,  seems  to  have  become  too 
great  to  bear.  We  see  a  desire  to  emancipate  both  thought  and 
expression  from  the  exquisite  but  confining  proportions  within 
which  they  had  as  yet  moved.  The  student  of  Euripides  observes 
a  struggle,  ineffectual  it  is  true,  but  pregnant  with  meaning, 
against  all  that  is  most  specially  recognised  as  conservative  arid 
national.2  He  strives  to  pour  new  wine  into  old  bottles  ;  but  in 
this  case  the  bottles  are  too  strong  for  him  to  burst.  The  Atticism 
which  had  guided  and  comprehended,  now  began  to  cramp  deve- 
lopment.   To  make  a  world-wide  out  of  a  Hellenic  form  of  thought 

1  It  is  true  Theocritus  stayed  long  in  Alexandria.  But  his  inspiration  is 
altogether  Sicilian,  and  as  such  was  hailed  by  delight  by  the  Alexandrines, 
who  were  tired  of  pedantry  and  compliment,  and  longed  for  naturalness 
though  in  a  rustic  garb. 

2  This  is  the  true  ground  of  Aristophane's  rooted  antipathy  to  Euripidea 
The  two  minds  were  of  an  incompatible  order.  Aristophanes  represent! 
Athens;  Euripides  the  human  spirit. 


ALEXANDKIA.  217 

**  is  necessary  to  go  outside  the  charmed  soil  of  Greece.  Only  on 
the  banks  of  the  Nile  will  the  new  culture  find  a  shrine,  whose  re- 
mote and  mysterious  authority  frees  it  from  the  spell  of  Hellenism, 
now  no  longer  the  exponent  of  the  world's  thought,  while  it  is  near 
enough  to  the  arena  where  human  progress  is  fighting  its  way 
onward,  to  inspire  and  be  inspired  by  the  mighty  nation  that  is 
j  succeeding  Greece  as  the  representative  of  mankind. 

The  contribution  of  Alexandria  to  human  progress  consists,  then, 
in  its  recoil  from  Greek  exclusiveness,  in  its  sifting  of  what  was 
universal  in  Greek  thought  from  what  was  national,  and  present 
ing  the  former  in  a  systematised  form  for  the  enlightenment  of 
those  who  received  it.  This  is  its  nobler  side ;  the  side  which 
men  like  Ennius  and  Scipio  seized,  and  welded  into  a  harmonious 
union  with  the  higher  national  tradition  of  Eome,  out  of  which 
union  arose  that  complex  product  to  which  the  name  humanitas 
was  so  happily  oiven,  But  Alexandrian  culture  was  more  than 
cosmopolitan.  It  was  in  a  sense  anti-national.  Egyptian  super- 
stition, theurgy,  magic,  and  charlatanism  of  every  sort,  tried  to 
amalgamate  with  the  imported  Greek  culture.  In  Greece  itself 
they  had  never  done  this.  The  clear  light  of  Greek  intellect  had 
120  fellowship  with  the  obscure  or  the  mysterious.  It  drove  them 
into  corners  and  let  them  mutter  in  secret.  But  the  moment  the 
lamp  of  culture  was  given  into  other  hands,  they  started  up  again 
unabashed  and  undismayed.  The  Alexandrine  thinkers  struggled 
to  make  Greek  influences  supreme,  to  exclude  altogether  those  of 
th*,  East ;  and  their  efforts  were  for  three  centuries  successful  : 
neither  mysticism  nor  magic  reigned  in  the  museum  of  the 
Ptolemies.  But  this  victory  was  purchased  at  a  severe  cost.  The 
enthusiasm  of  the  Alexandrian  scholars  had  made  them  pedants. 
They  gradually  ceased  to  care  for  the  thought  of  literature,  and 
busied  themselves  only  with  questions  of  learning  and  of  form. 
Their  multifarious  reading  made  them  think  that  they  too  had  a 
literary  gift.  Philetas  was  not  only  a  profound  logician,  but  he 
affected  to  be  an  amatory  poet.1  Callimachus,  the  brilliant  and 
courtly  librarian  of  Philadelphus,  wrote  nearly  every  kind  of 
poetry  that  existed.  Aratus  treated  the  abstruse  investigations  of 
Eudoxus  in  neat  verses  that  at  once  became  popular.  While  in 
the  great  periods  of  Greek  art  each  writer  had  been  content  to 
excel  in  a  single  branch,  it  now  became  the  fashion  for  the  same 
poet  to  be  Epicist,  Lyrist,  and  Elegy-writer  at  once. 

1  He  must  have  had  some  real  beauties,  else  Theocritus  (vii.  40)  would 
hardly  praise  him  so  highly:  "  ov  yap  irco  /car'  lfibv  v6ov  ou5e  ihw  i<r\h* 
SiieeAidav  ytKTjfii  rbv  iic  2d/*w  ovdh  QiAriTav  AetrW,  fidrpaxos  Se  »ot'  tfrptSaf 
6s  ""45  epiV5«. 


218  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Besides  the  new  treatment  of  old  forms,  there  were  three  kind* 
of  poetry,  first  developed  or  perfected  at  Alexandria,  which  have 
special  interest  for  us  from  the  great  celebrity  they  gained  when 
imported  into  Rome.  They  are  the  didactic  poem,  the  erotic  elegy, 
and  the  epigram.  The  maxim  of  Callimachus  (characteristic  as  it 
is  of  his  narrow  mind)  fieya  /3l/3\lov  fiiya  /caKoV,  "a  great  book  is  a 
great  evil,"1  was  the  rule  on  which  these  poetasters  generally  acted 
The  didactic  poem  is  an  illegitimate  cross  between  science  and 
poetry.  In  the  creative  days  of  Greece  it  had  no  place.  Hesiod, 
Parmenides,  and  Empedocles  were,  indeed,  cited  as  examples.  But 
\s  in  their  days  poetry  was  the  only  vehicle  of  literary  effort,  and  he 
who  wished  to  issue  accurate  information  was  driven  to  embody 
it  in  verse.  In  the  time  of  the  Ptolemies  things  were  altogether 
different.  It  was  consistent  neither  with  the  exactness  of  science 
nor  with  the  grace  of  the  Muses  to  treat  astronomy  or  geography 
as  subjects  for  poetry.  Still,  the  best  masters  of  this  style 
undoubtedly  attained  great  renown,  and  have  found  brilliant 
imitators,  not  only  in  Roman,  but  in  modern  times. 

Aratus  (280  b.c),  known  as  the  model  of  Cicero's,  and  in  a 
later  age  of  Domitian's2  youthful  essays  in  verse,  was  born  at  Soli 
in  Cilicia  about  three  hundred  years  before  Christ.  He  was  not 
a  scientific  man,3  but  popularised  in  hexameter  verse  the  astrono- 
mical works  of  Eudoxus,  of  which  he  formed  two  poems,  the 
Phaenomena  and  the  Diosemia,  or  Prognostics.  These  were 
extravagantly  praised,  and  so  far  took  the  place  of  their  original 
that  commentaries  were  written  on  them  by  learned  men,4  while 
the  works  of  Eudoxus  were  in  danger  of  being  forgotten.  Nican- 
der  (230  B.c.  T),  still  less  ambitious,  wrote  a  poem  on  remedies  for 
vegetable  and  mineral  poisons  (a\e£i<fidpi.iaKa),  and  for  the  bites 
of  beasts  (OrjpiaKa),  and  another  on  the  habits  of  birds  (opviOoyovia). 
These  attracted  the  imitation  of  Macer  in  the  Augustan  age.  But 
the  most  celebrated  poets  were  Callimachus  (260  b.c.)  and  Phile- 
tas6  (280  b.c),  who  formed  the  models  of  Propertius.  To  them 
we  owe  the  Erotic  Elegy,  whether  personal  or  mythological,  and 

1  Even  an  epic  poem  was,  if  it  extended  to  any  length,  now  considered 
tedious ;  'EirvWia,  or  miniature  epics,  in  one,  two,  or  three  books,  became  the 
fashion. 

2  Others  assign  the  poem  which  has  come  down  to  us  to  Germanicus  the 
father  of  Caligula,  perhaps  with  better  reason. 

3  Cic.  De  Or.  xvi.  69. 

4  Ovid  (Amor,  i,  15,  16)  expresses  the  high  estimate  of  Aratus  common 
iii  his  day :  Nulla  Sophocleo  veniet  iactura  cothumo .  Cum  sole  et  luna 
semper  Aratus  erit.  He  was  not,  strictly  speaking,  an  Alexandrine,  as  h« 
lived  at  the  court  of  Antigonus  in  Macedonia ;  but  he  represents  the  sam» 
ic^ool  of  thought 

°  They  are  generally  mentioned  together.     Prop  IV.  i.  1,  &c. 


ALEXANDRIA.  219 

*11  the  pedantic  ornament  of  fictitious  passion  which  such  -writings 
generally  display.  More  will  be  said  about  them  when  we  come 
to  the  elegiac  poets.  Callimachus,  however,  seems  to  have  carried 
his  art,  such  as  it  was,  to  perfection.  He  is  generally  considered 
the  prince  of  elegists,  and  his  extant  fragments  show  great  nicety 
and  finish  of  expression.  The  sacriligious  theft  of  the  locks  cf 
Berenice's  hair  from  the  temple  where  she  had  offered  them,  was  a 
subject  too  well  suited  to  a  courtier's  muse  to  escape  treatment, 
Its  celebrity  is  due  to  the  translation  made  by  Catullus,  and  tho 
appropriation  of  the  idea  by  Pope  in  his  Rape  of  the  Lock.  The 
short  epigram  was  also  much  in  vogue  at  Alexandria,  and  neat 
examples  abound  in  the  Anthology.  But  in  all  these  departments 
ftie  Bomans  imitated  with  such  zest  and  vigour  that  they  left 
their  masters  far  behind.  Ovid  and  Martial  are  as  superior  in 
their  way  to  Philetas  and  Callimachus  as  Lucretius  and  Virgil  to 
Aratus  and  Apollonius  Bhodius.  This  last-mentioned  poet,  Apoir 
lonius  Bhodius  (fl.  240  B.C.),  demands  a  short  notice.  He  was 
the  pupil  of  Callimachus,  and  the  most  genuinely-gifted  of  all  the 
Alexandrine  school ;  he  incurred  the  envy  and  afterwards  the 
rancorous  hatred  of  his  preceptor,  through  whose  influence  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  Alexandria  and  seek  fame  at  Bhodes.  Here  he 
remained  all  his  life  and  wrote  his  most  celebrated  poem,  the  Epic 
of  the  Argonauts,  a  combination  of  sentiment,  learning,  and  grace- 
ful expression,  which  is  less  known  than  it  ought  to  be.  Its  chief 
interest  to  us  is  the  use  made  of  it  by  Virgil,  who  studied  it  deeply 
and  drew  much  from  it.  We  observe  the  passion  of  love  as  a 
new  element  in  heroic  poetry,  scarcely  treated  in  Greece,  but 
henceforth  to  become  second  to  none  in  prominence,  and  through 
Dido,  to  secure  a  place  among  the  very  highest  flights  of  song.1 
Jason  and  Medea,  the  nero  and  heroine,  who  love  one  another, 
create  a  poetical  era.  An  epicist  of  even  greater  popularity  was 
Euphorion  of  Chalcis  (274-203  b.c),  whose  affected  prettiness 
and  rounded  cadences  charmed  the  ears  of  the  young  nobles.  He 
had  admirers  who  knew  him  by  heart,  who  declaimed  him  at  the 
baths,2  and  quoted  his  pathetic  passages  ad  nauseum.  He  was 
the  inventor  of  the  historical  romance  in  verse,  of  which  Borne 
was  so  fruitful.  A  Lucan,  a  Silius,  owe  their  inspiration  in  part 
to  him.     Lastly,  we  may  mention  that  the  drama  could  find  no 

1  Nothing  can  show  this  more  strikingly  than  the  fact  that  the  Puritan 
Milton  introduces  the  loves  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  central  part  of  hia 
poem. 

2  The  Cantores  Euphorionis  and  despisers  of  Ennius,  with  whom  Cicerfl 
was  greatly  wroth.  Alluding  to  them  he  says  : — Ita  belle  nobis  "  Flavit 
ab  Epiro  lenissimus  Onchesmites."  Hunc  <nrov§€id.£ovTa  si  cui  *  s  rut 
p*mr*p<iv  pro  tuo  vendita.     Ad .  Att.  vii.  2,  1. 


220  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

place  at  Alexandria.  Only  learned  compilations  of  recondite 
legend  and  frigid  declamation,  almost  unintelligible  from  the  rare 
and  obsolete  words  with  which  they  were  crowded,  were  sent 
forth  under  the  name  of  plays.  The  Cassandra  or  Alexandra  of 
Lycophron  is  the  only  specimen  that  has  come  to  us.  Its  thorny 
difficulties  deter  the  reader,  but  Fox  speaks  of  it  as  breathing  a 
rich  vein  of  melancholy.  The  Tliyestes  of  Varius  and  the  Medea 
of  Ovid  were  no  doubt  greatly  improved  copies  of  dramas  of  this 
sorl. 

1 1  will  be  seen  from  this  survey  of  Alexandrine  /  tters  that  the 
better  side  of  their  influence  was  soon  exhausted.  Any  breadth 
of  view  they  possessed  was  seized  and  far  exceeded  by  the  nobler 
minds  that  imitated  it ;  and  all  their  other  qualities  were  such  as 
to  enervate  rather  than  inspire.  The  masculine  rudeness  of  the 
old  poets  now  gave  way  to  pretty  finish ;  verbal  conceits  took  the 
place  of  condensed  thoughts ;  the  rich  exuberance  of  the  native 
style  tried  to  cramp  itself  into  the  arid  allusiveness  which,  instead 
of  painting  straight  from  nature,  was  content  to  awaken  a  long 
line  of  literary  associations.  Nevertheless  there  was  much  in  their 
manipulation  of  language  from  which  the  Romans  could  learn  a 
useful  ieseon.  It  was  impossible  for  them  to  catch  the  original 
impulse  of  the  divine  seer — 1 

avTodiBa.KT6s  8'ci/xi,  dtbs  8e  /not  4v  <ppe<r\v  oifxas  itavrolas  ivf<f>v<T€P. 

From  poverty  of  genius  they  were  forced  to  draw  less  flowing 
draughts  from  the  Castalian  spring.  The  bards  of  old  Greece 
were  hopelessly  above  them.  The  Alexandrines,  by  not  over- 
powering their  efforts,  but  offering  them  models  which  they  felt 
they  could  not  only  equal  but  immeasurably  excel,  did  real  service 
in  encouraging  and  stimulating  the  Roman  muse.  Great  critics 
like  Niebuhr  and,  within  certain  limits,  Munro,  regret  the  mingling 
of  the  Alexandrine  channel  with  the  stream  of  Latin  poetry,  but 
without  it  we  should  perhaps  not  have  had  Catullus  and  certainly 
neither  Ovid  nor  YirgiL 

It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  the  national  party,  whether  in 
politics  or  letters,  would  set  themselves  with  all  their  might  to 
oppose  the  rising  current.  The  great  majority  surrendered  them- 
selves to  it  with  a  good  will.  Among  the  stern  reactionists  in 
prose,  we  have  mentioned  Yarro ;  in  poetry,  by  far  the  greatest 
name  is  Lucretiu3.  But  little  is  known  of  Lucretius's  life ;  even 
the  date  of  his  birth  is  uncertain.  St.  Jerome,  in  the  Eusebian 
chronicle,2  gives  95  ac.     Others   have  with   more  probability 

1  The  reader  is  referred  to  the  introductory  chapter  of  Sellar's  Roman  poett 
of  the  Republic,  where  this  passage  is  quoted. 

a  The  reader  is  again  referred  to  the  preface  to  Munro's  Lucretius 


LUCRETIUS.  221 

assigned  an  earlier  date.     It  is  from  Jerome  that  we  learn  those 

facts  which  have  cast  a  strong  interest  round  the  poet,  viz.  that 

he  was  driven  mad  by  a  love  potion,  that  he  composed  in  the 

intervals  of  insanity  his  poem,  which  Cicero  afterwards  corrected, 

and  that  he  perished  by  his  own  hand  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of 

his  age.     Jerome  does  not  quote  any  contemporary  authority ;  his 

statements,  coming  500  years  after  the  event,  must  go  for  what 

they  are  worth,  but  may  perhaps  meet  with  a  qualified  acceptance. 

The  intense  earnestness  of  the  poem  indicates  a  mind  that  we  can 

well  conceive  giving  way  under  the  overwhelming  thought  which 

stirred  it ;  and  the  example  of  a  philosopher  anticipating  the  stroke 

of  nature  is  too  often  repeated  in  Roman  history  to  make  it 

incredible  in  this  case.     Tennyson  with  a  poet's  sympathy  has 

surrounded  this  story  with  the  deepest  pathos,  and  it  will  probably 

remain  the  accepted,  if  not  the  established,  version  of  his  death. 

Though  born  in  a  high  position,  he  seems  to  have  stood  aloof 

from  society.     From  first  to  last  his  book  betrays  the  close  and 

eager   student.     He   was   an   intimate   friend   of   the   worthless 

C.  Memmius,  whom  he  extols  in  a  manner  creditable  to  his  heart 

but  not  to  his  judgment.1     But  he  was  no  flatterer,  nor  was 

Memmius  a  patron.     Poet  and  statesman  lived  on  terms  of  perfect 

equality.     Of  the  date  of  his  work  we  can  so  far  conjecture  that 

it  was  certainly  unfinished  at  his  death  (55  B.C.),  and  from  its  scope 

and  information  must  have   extended  over  some   years.      The 

allusion—8 

*l  Nam  neque  nos  agere  hoc  patriai  tempore  iniquo 
Possunms  aequo  anirno,  nee  Memmi  clara  propago 
Talibus  in  rebus  conimuni  desse  saluti," 

is  considered  by  Prof.  Sellar  to  point  to  the  praetorship  of  Mem- 
mius (58  b.c).  The  work  was  long  thought  to  have  been  edited 
by  Cicero  after  the  poet's  death ;  but  though  he  had  read  the 
poem,3  and  admitted  its  talent,  he  would  doubtless  have  mentioned, 
at  least  to  Atticus,  the  fact  of  the  editing,  had  it  occurred.  Some 
critics,  arguing  from  Cicero's  silence  and  known  opposition  to  the 
Epicurean  tenets,  have  thought  that  Jerome  referred  to  Q.  Cicero 
the  orator's  brother,  but  for  this  there  is  no  authority.  The  poem 
is  entitled  De  Rerum  Natura,  an  equivalent  for  the  Greek  mp) 
^>vo-€(o§,  the  usual  title  of  the  pre-Socratic  philosophers'  works. 
The  form,  viz.  a  poem  in  heroic  hexameters,  containing  a  carefully 

1  Quern  tu,  dea,  tempore  in  omni  Omnibus  ornatum  voluisti  exeellve  rebut 

»  i,  41. 

*  Ep.  ad  Q.  Fr.  ii.  11.  It  seems  best  to  read  multis  ingenii  luminib-as, 
mm  multae  tamen  artis  than  to  put  the  non  before  multis.  The  or'tjinal 
text  has  no  non  ;  if  we  keep  to  that,  tamen  will  mean  and  even. 


222  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

reasoned  exposition,  in  which  regard  was  had  above  all  to  tin 
claims  of  the  subject-matter,  was  borrowed  from  the  Sicilian 
thinker  Empedocles1  (460  b.c).  But  while  Aristotle  deniei 
Empedocles  the  title  of  poet2  on  account  of  his  scientific  subject, 
ro  one  could  think  of  applying  the  same  criticism  to  Lucretius 
A  general  view  of  nature,  as  the  Power  most  near  to  man,  and 
most  capable  of  deeply  moving  his  heart,  a  Power  whose  beauty, 
variety,  and  mystery,  were  the  source  of  his  most  perplexing 
struggles  as  well  as  of  his  purest  joys ;  a  desire  to  hold  communion 
with  her,  and  to  learn  from  her  lips,  opened  only  to  the  ear  of  faith, 
those  secrets  which  are  hid  from  the  vain  world;  this  was  the  grand 
thought  that  stirred  the  depths  of  Lucretius's  mind,  and  made  him 
the  herald  of  a  new  and  end  iring  form  of  verse.  It  has  been 
well  said  that  didactic  poetry  was  that  in  which  the  Roman  was 
best  fitted  to  succeed.  It  was  in  harmony  with  his  utilitarian 
character.3  To  give  a  practically  useful  direction  to  its  labour  was 
almost  demanded  from  the  highest  poetry.  To  say  nothing  of 
Horace  and  Lucilius,  Virgil's  Aeneid,  no  less  than  his  Georgics, 
has  a  practical  aim,  and  to  an  ardent  spirit  like  Lucretius,  poetry 
would  be  the  natural  vehicle  for  the  truths  to  which  he  longed 
to  convert  mankind. 

In  the  selection  of  his  models,  his  choice  fell  upon  the  oldei 
Greek  writers,  such  as  Empedocles,  Aeschylus,  Thucydides,  men 
renowned  for  deep  thought  rather  than  elegant  expression ;  and 
among  the  Romans,  upon  Ennius  and  Pacuvius,  the  giants  of  a 
ruder  past.  Among  contemporaries,  Cicero  alone  seems  to  have 
awakened  his  admiration.  Thus  he  stands  altogether  aloof  from 
the  fashionable  standard  of  his  day,  a  solitary  beacon  pointing  to 
landmarks  once  well  known,  but  now  crumbling  into  decay.4 

Lucretius  is  the  only  Roman  in  whom  the  love  of  speculative 
truth5  prevails  over  every  other  feeling.  In  his  day  philosophy 
had  sunk  to  an  endless  series  of  disputes  about  words.6     Erivo- 

1  Lucr.  had  a  great  veneration  for  his  genius,  see  ii.  723  :  Quae  (Sicilia) 
nil  hoc  habuisse  viro  praeclarius  in  se  Nee  sanctum  magis  ei  mirum  car- 
umque  videtur.  Carmina  quinetiam  divini  pectoris  eius  Vociferantur,  et 
exponunt  praeclara  reperta,  Ut  vix  humana  videatur  stirpe  creatus. 

2  In  his  treatise  de  Poetica  he  calls  him  <pvcrioKoyov  fiaWov  y)  iroi^rnv. 

*  A  French  writer  justly  says — "  Vutilite  c'est  le  principe  createur  de  la 
litter ature  romaine'" 

4  Some  one  has  observed  that  the  martial  imagery  of  Lucretius  is  taken 
from  the  old  warfare  of  the  Punic  wars,  not  from  that  of  his  own  time.  He 
speaks  of  elephants,  of  Scipio  and  Hannibal,  as  if  they  were  the  heroes  most 
pn  sent  to  his  mind. 

6  The  ipus  <pi\6(ro<po$,  so  beautifully  described  by  Plato  in  the  Symposium. 

*  A  Scotch  acquaintance  of  the  writer's  when  asked  to  define  a  certain 
trpe  of  theology,  replied,  u  An  interminable  argument." 


LUCRETIUS.  223 

lous  quibbles  and  captious  logical  proofs,  comprised  the  highest 
exercises  of  the  speculative  faculty.1  The  mind  of  Lucretius 
harks,  back  to  the  glorious  period  of  creative  enthusiasm,  when 
Democritus,  Empedocles,  Anaxagoras,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Zeno,  and 
Epicurus,  successively  believed  that  they  had  solved  the  great 
questions  of  being  and  knowing.  Amid  the  zeal  and  confidence 
of  that  mighty  time  his  soul  is  at  home.  To  Epicurus  as  the 
inventor  of  the  true  guide  of  life  he  pays  a  tribute  of  reverential 
praise,  calling  him  the  pride  of  Greece,2  and  exalting  him  to  the 
position  of  a  god.3  It  is  clear  to  one  who  studies  this  deeply 
interesting  poet  that  his  mind  was  in  the  highest  degree  reveren- 
tial. No  error  could  have  been  more  fatal  to  his  enjoyment  oi 
that  equanimity,  whose  absence  he  deplores,  than  to  select  a 
creed,  at  once  so  joyless  and  barren  in  itself,  and  so  unsuited  to 
his  ardent  temperament. 

When  Lucretius  wrote,  belief  in  the  national  religion  haa 
among  the  upper  classes  become  almost  extinct.  Those  who 
needed  conviction  as  a  support  for  their  life  had  no  resource  but 
Greek  philosophy.  The  speculations  of  Plato,  except  in  his  more 
popular  works,  were  not  attractive  to  the  Komans;  those  of 
Aristotle,  brought  to  light  in  Cicero's  time  by  the  transference  of 
Apellicon's  library  to  Pome,4  were  a  sealed  book  to  the  majority, 
though  certain  works,  probably  dialogues  after  the  Platonic  manner, 
gained  the  admiration  of  Cicero  and  Quintilian.  The  pre-Socratic 
thinkers,  occupied  as  they  were  with  physical  questions  which 
had  little  interest  for  Eomans,  were  still  less  likely  to  be  resorted 
to.  The  demand  for  a  supreme  moral  end  made  it  inevitable  that 
their  choice  should  fall  on  one  of  the  two  schools  which  offered 
such  an  end,  those  of  the  Porch  and  the  Garden.  Which  of  the 
two  would  a  man  like  Lucretius  prefer?  The  answer  is  not  so 
obvious  as  it  appears.  For  Lucretius  has  in  him  nothing  of  the 
Epicurean  in  our  sense.  His  austerity  is  nearer  to  that  of  the 
Stoic.  It  was  the  speculative  basis  underlying  the  ethical 
system,  and  not  the  ethical  system  itself,  that  determined  his 
(hoice.  Epicurus  had  allied  his  theory  of  pleasure5  with  the 
atomic  theory  of  Democritus.  Stoicism  had  espoused  the  doe- 
U  ;ne  of  Heraclitus,  that  fire  is  the  primordial  element.     Epicurus 

:  Philetas  wore  himself  to  a  shadow  by  striving  to  solve  the  sophiftcio 
riddle  of  the    "Liar."     His  epitaph  alludes  to  this:  Ee^e,  $  \-fjras  elui 
Kir\mv  8'  6  ty€v$6/j.€v6s  jue  ^Aecre  ko\  vvkt&v  <pp6vTt8es  tGntpioi. 

2  iii.  3.      "Te  sequor,  o  Graiae  gentis  decus  !" 

8  v.  8,  where,  though  the  words  are  general,  the  reference  is  to  Epicurus. 

*  By  Sulla,  84  B.C. 

5  He  defined  it  as  a  Aeto  xiirqo-ts,  or  smooth  srentle  motion  of  the  atonw 
which  compose  the  sout. 


224  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

had  denied  the  indestructibility  of  the  soul  and  the  divine  govern 
ment  of  the  world ;  his  gods  were  unconnected  with  mankind, 
and  lived  at  ease  in  the  vacant  spaces  between  the  worlds. 
Stoicism  on  the  contrary,  had  incorporated  the  popular  theology, 
bringing  it  into  conformity  with  the  philosophic  doctrine  of  a 
single  Deity  by  means  of  allegorical  interpretation.  Its  views  of 
Divine  Providence  were  reconcilable  with,  while  they  elevated, 
the  popular  superstition. 

Lucretius  had  a  strong  hatred  for  the  abuses  into  which  state- 
craft and  luxury  had  allowed  the  popular  creed  to  fall ;  he  was 
also  firmly  convinced  of  the  sufficiency  of  Democritus's  two  postu- 
lates (Atoms  and  the  Void)  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena  of 
the  universe.  Hence  he  gave  his  unreserved  assent  to  the 
Epicurean  system,  which  he  expounds,  mainly  in  its  physical  out- 
lines, in  his  work ;  the  ethical  tenets  being  interwoven  with  the 
bursts  of  enthusiastic  poetry  which  break,  or  the  countless  touches 
which  adorn,  the  sustained  course  of  his  argument. 

The  defects  of  the  ancient  scientific  method  are  not  wanting  in 
him.  Generalising  from  a  few  superficial  instances,  reasoning  d 
priori,  instead  of  winning  his  way  by  observation  and  comparison 
up  to  the  Universal  truth,  fancying  that  it  was  possible  for  a 
single  mind  to  grasp,  and  for  a  system  by  a  few  bold  hypotheses 
to  explain,  the  problem  of  external  nature,  of  the  soul,  of  the 
existence  of  the  gods :  such  are  the  obvious  defects  which 
Lucretius  shares  with  his  masters,  and  of  which  the  experience  of 
ages  has  taught  us  the  danger  as  well  as  the  charm.  But  the 
atomic  system  has  features  which  render  it  specially  interesting 
at  the  present  day.  Its  materialism,  its  attribution  to  nature  of 
power  sufficient  to  carry  out  all  her  ends,  its  analysis  of  matter 
into  ultimate  physical  individua  incognisable  by  sense,  while  yet 
it  insists  that  the  senses  are  the  fountains  of  all  knowledge,1  are 
points  which  bring  it  into  correspondence  with  hypotheses  at 
present  predominant.  Its  theory  of  the  development  of  society 
from  the  lower  to  the  higher  without  break  and  without 
divine  intervention,  and  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  in 
the  struggle  for  existence,  its  denial  of  design  and  claim  to 
explain  everything  by  natural  law,  are  also  points  of  resemblance. 
Finally,  the  lesson  he  draws  from  this  comfortless  creed,  not  to 
sit  with  folded  hands  in  silent  despair,  nor  to  "  eat  and  drink  for 
to-morrow  we  die,"  but  to  labour  steadily  for  our  greater  good  and 

1  The  doctrine  of  inherited  aptitudes  is  a  great  advance  on  the  ancient 
itatement  of  this  theory,  inasmuch  as  it  partly  gets  rid  of  the  inconsistency 
of  regarding  the  senses  as  the  fountains  of  knowledge  while  admitting  th« 
focon  -"en-ability  of  their  cognising  the  ultimate  constituents  of  matter. 


LUCRETIUS.  225 

to  cultivate  virtue  in  accordance  with  reason,  equally  free  from 
ambition  and  sloth,  is  strikingly  like  the  teaching  of  that  scientific 
school1  which  claims  for  its  system  a  motive  as  potent  to  inspire 
self-denial  as  any  that  a  more  spiritual  philosophy  can  give. 

Lucretius,  therefore,  gains  moral  elevation  by  deserting  the 
conclusion  of  Epicurus.  While  he  does  full  justice  to  the  poetical 
side  of  pleasure  as  an  end  in  itself,2  he  never  insists  on  it  as  a 
motive  to  action.  Thus  he  retains  the  conception  as  a  noble  orna- 
ment of  his  verse,  but  reserves  to  himself,  as  every  poet  must,  the 
liberty  to  adopt  another  tone  if  he  feels  it  higher  or  more  appro- 
priate. Indeed,  logical  consistency  of  view  would  be  out  of  place 
in  a  poem ;  and  Lucretius  is  nowhere  a  truer  poet  that  when  he 
sins  against  his  own  canons.3  His  instinct  told  him  how  difficult 
it  was  to  combine  clear  reasoning  with  a  poetical  garb,  especially 
as  the  Latin  language  was  not  yet  broken  to  the  purposes  of  philo- 
sophy.4 Nevertheless  so  complete  is  his  mastery  of  the  subject 
that  there  is  scarcely  a  difficulty  arising  from  want  of  clearness  of 
expression  from  beginning  to  end  of  the  poem.  There  are  occa- 
sional lacunae,  and  several  passages  out  of  place,  which  were  either 
stop-gaps  intended  to  be  replaced  by  lines  more  appropriate,  or 
additions  made  after  the  first  draft  of  the  work,  which,  had  the 
author  lived,  would  have  been  wrought  into  the  context.  The 
first  three  books  are  quite  or  nearly  quite  finished,  and  from  them 
we  can  judge  his  power  of  presenting  an  argument. 

His  chief  object  he  states  to  be  not  the  discovery,  but  the  ex 
position  of  truth,  for  the  purpose  of  freeing  men's  minds  from  re- 
ligious terrors.  This  he  announces  immediately  after  the  invoca- 
tion to  Venus,  "Mother  of  theAeneadae,"  with  which  the  poem  opens. 
He  then  addresses  himself  to  Memmius,  whom  he  intreats  not  to 
be  deterred  from  reading  him  by  the  reproach  of  "rationalism."5 
He  next  states  his  first  principle,  which  is  the  denial  of  creation: 

"Nullam  rem  e  nilo  gigni  divinitus  unquam,  ' 

and  asks,  What  then  is  the  original  substance  out  of  which  existing 
things  have  arisen  1  The  answer  is,  "  Atoms  and  the  Yoid,  and 
beside  them  nothing  else  :"  these  two  principles  are  solid,  self- 
existent,  indestructible,  and  invisible.     He  next  investigates  and 

1  Prof.  Maudesley's  books  are  a  good  example. 

2  Dux  vitae,  clia  voluptas  (ii.  171).  So  the  invocation  to  Venus  with 
which  the  poem  opens. 

3  As  where  he  invokes  Venus,  describes  the  mother  of  the  gods,  or  deifies 
the  founder  of  true  wisdom. 

4  Nee  sum  animi  dubius  Graiorum  obscura  reperta  Difficile  inlustrart 
Latinis  vcrsibus  esse  ;  Multa  novis  verbis  praesertim  cum  sit  agendum  Propter 
egatatem  linguae  et  rerum  novitatem  (i.  130).  8  i.  75. 

P 


226        .  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

refutes  the  first  principles  of  other  philosophers,  notably  Hera. 
clitus,  Empedocles,  and  Anaxagoras ;  and  the  book  ends  with  • 
short  proof  that  the  atoms  are  infinite  in  number  and  space  in- 
finite in  extent  The  Second  Book  opens  with  a  digression  on  the 
folly  of  ambition ;  but,  returning  to  the  atoms,  treats  of  the  com- 
bination which  enables  them  to  form  and  perpetuate  the  present 
variety  of  things.  All  change  is  ultimately  due  to  the  primordial 
motion  of  the  atoms.  This  motion,  naturally  in  a  straight  line, 
is  occasionally  deflected ;  and  this  deflection  accounts  for  the  many 
variations  from  exact  law.  Moreover,  atoms  differ  in  form,  some 
being  rough,  others  smooth,  some  round,  others  square,  &c  They 
are  combined  in  infinite  ways,  which  combinations  give  rise  to  the 
so-called  secondary  properties  of  matter,  colour,  heat,  smell,  &c 
Innumerable  other  worlds  besides  our  own  exist ;  this  one  will 
probably  soon  pass  away ;  atoms  and  the  void  alone  are  eternal. 
In  the  Third  Book  the  poet  attacks  what  he  considers  the  strong- 
hold of  superstition.  The  soul,  mind,  or  vital  principle  is  care- 
fully discussed,  and  declared  to  be  material,  being  composed,  in- 
deed, of  the  finest  atoms,  as  is  shown  by  its  rapid  movement,  and 
the  fact  that  it  does  not  add  to  the  weight  of  the  body,  but  in  no 
wise  sui  generis,  or  differing  in  kind  from  other  matter.  It  is 
united  with  the  body  as  the  perfume  with  the  incense,  nor  can  they 
be  severed  without  destruction  to  both.  They  are  born  together, 
grow  together,  and  perish  together.  Death  therefore  is  the  end  of 
being,  and  life  beyond  the  grave  is  not  only  impossible  but  incon- 
ceivable. Book  IV.  treats  of  the  images  or  idols  cast  off  from  the 
surface  of  bodies,  borne  continually  through  space,  and  sometimes 
seen  by  sleepers  in  dreams,  or  by  sick  people  or  others  in  waking 
visions.  They  are  not  illusions  of  the  senses ;  the  illusion  arises 
from  the  wrong  interpretation  we  put  upon  them.  To  these  images 
the  passion  of  love  is  traced ;  and  with  a  brilliant  satire  on  the 
effects  of  yielding  to  it  the  book  closes.  The  Fifth  Book  examine* 
the  origin  and  formation  of  the  solar  system,  which  it  treats  not  as 
eternal  after  the  manner  of  the  Stoics,  but  as  having  had  a  definite 
beginning,  and  as  being  destined  to  a  natural  and  inevitable  decay. 
He  applies  his  principle  of  "Fortuitous  Concurrence"  to  this 
part  of  his  subject  with  signal  power,  but  the  faultiness  of  his 
method  interferes  with  the  effect  of  his  argument  The  finest 
part  of  fhe  book,  and  perhaps  of  the  whole  poem,  is  his  account  of 
th«  •'  origin  of  species,"  and  the  progress  of  human  society.  Hie 
views  read  like  a  hazy  forecast  of  the  evolution  doctrine.  He 
applies  his  principle  with  great  strictness;  no  break  occurs; 
experience  alone  has  been  the  guide  of  life.  If  we  ask,  however, 
whether  he  had  any  idea  of  progress  as  we  understand  it,  we  must 


LUCRETIUS.  227 

answer  no.  He  did  not  believe  in  the  perfectibility  of  man,  or  in 
the  ultimate  prevalence  of  virtue  in  the  world.  The  last  Book 
tries  to  show  the  natural  origin  of  the  rarer  and  more  gigantic 
physical  phenomena,  thunderstorms,  volcanoes,  earthquakes,  pesti- 
lence, &c.  and  terminates  with  a  long  description  of  the  plague 
of  Athens,  in  which  we  trace  many  imitations  of  Thucydides. 
This  book  is  obviously  unfinished ;  but  the  aim  of  the  work  may 
be  said  to  be  so  far  complete  that  nowhere  is  the  central  object 
lost  sight  of,  viz.,  to  expel  the  belief  in  divine  interventions,  and 
to  sive  mankind  from  all  fear  of  the  supernatural. 

The  value  of  the  poem  to  us  consists  not  in  its  contributions  to 
science  but  in  its  intensity  of  poetic  feeling.  None  but  a  student 
will  read  through  the  disquisitions  on  atoms  and  void.  All  who 
love  poetry  will  feel  the  charm  of  the  digressions  and  introductions. 
These,  which  are  sufficiently  numerous,  are  either  resting-places 
in  the  process  of  proof,  when  the  writer  pauses  to  reflect,  or  bursts 
of  eloquent  appeal  which  his  earnestness  cannot  repress.  Of  the 
first  kind  are  the  account  of  spring  in  Book  I.  and  the  enumeration 
of  female  attractions  in  Book  IV. ;  of  the  second,  are  the  sacrifice 
of  Iphigenia,1  the  tribute  to  Empedocles  and  Epicurus,2  the  de- 
scription of  himself  as  a  solitary  wanderer  among  trackless  haunts 
of  the  Muses,  *  the  attack  on  ambition  and  luxury,4  the  pathetic 
description  of  the  cow  bereft  of  her  calf,5  the  indignant  remon- 
strance with  the  man  who  fears  to  die.6  In  these,  as  in  innumer- 
able single  touches,  the  poet  of  original  genius  is  revealed.  Virgil 
often  works  by  allusion :  Lucretius  never  does.  All  his  effects 
are  gained  by  the  direct  presentation  of  a  distinct  image.  He  has 
in  a  high  degree  the  "seeing  eye,"  which  needs  only  a  steady 
hand  to  body  forth  its  visions.  Take  the  picture  of  Mars  in  love, 
yielding  to  Venus's  prayer  for  peace.7  What  can  be  more  truly 
statuesque  ? 

"  Belli  fera  moenera  Mavors 
.Armipotens  regit,  in  gremium  qui  saepe  tuunt  se 
Reiicit  aeterno  devictus  volnere  amoris  • 
Atque  ita  suspiciens  tereti  cervice  repost* 
Pascit  aniore  avidos  inhians  in  te,  dca,  vfsus, 
Eque  tuo  pendet  resupini  spiritus  ore. 
Hune  tu  diva  tuo  recubantem  corpore  sancto 
Circumfusa  super  suavis  ex  ore  loquellas 
Funde  petens  placidam  Romanis,  incluta,  pacem." 

Or,  again,  of  nature's  freedom : 

u  Libera  continuo  dominis  privata  superbis." 


*Lu.i.  56-95.     »Ib.  i  710-735;  iii.1-30.     •  lb.  i.  912-941.    Mb.  ii.  1-00 
6  lb.  ii.  354-366.  *  lb.  iii.  1036  sqq.  ?  lb.  i.  32-40 


228  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Who  can  fail  in  this  to  catch  the  tones  of  the  Bepublicl     Again, 
take  his  description  of  the  transmission  of  existence, 

M  Et  quasi  cursores  vitai ;  lampada  tradunt  ;n 

ot  of  the  helplessness  of  medicine  in  time  of  plague, 

"  Mussabat  tacito  medicina  timore." 

These  are  a  few  examples  of  a  power  present  throughout,  filling 
ids  reasonings  with  a  vivid  reality  far  removed  from  the  conven- 
tional rhetoric  of  most  philosopher  poets.1  His  language  is  Thucy- 
didean  in  its  chiselled  outline,  its  quarried  strength,  its  living 
expressiveness.  Nor  is  his  moral  earnestness  inferior.  The  end 
of  life  is  indeed  nominally  pleasure,2  "  dux  vitae  dia  voluptas;"  but 
really  it  is  a  pure  heart,  "  A  t  bene  non  poterat  sine  puro  pectore 
vivi."3  He  who  first  showed  the  way  to  this  was  the  true  deity.4  The 
contemplation  of  eternal  law  will  produce,  not  as  the  strict  Epicu- 
reans say,  indifference?  but  resignation.6  This  happiness  is  in  our 
own  power,  and  neither  gods  nor  men  can  take  it  away.  The  ties 
of  family  life  are  depicted  with  enthusiasm,  and  though  the  activo 
duties  of  a  citizen  are  not  recommended,  they  are  certainly  not 
discouraged.  But  the  knowledge  of  nature  alone  can  satisfy 
man's  spirit,  or  enable  him  to  lead  a  life  worthy  of  the  immortals, 
and  see  with  his  mind's  eye  their  mansions  of  eternal  rest.7 
Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  light  treatment  of  deep  problems 
current  among  Epicureans  than  the  solemn  earnestness  of  Lucre- 
tius. He  cannot  leave  the  world  to  its  vanity  and  enjoy  himself. 
He  seeks  to  bring  men  to  his  views,  but  at  the  same  time  he  sees 
how  hopeless  is  the  task.  He  becomes  a  pessimist:  in  Roman 
language,  he  despairs  of  the  Republic.  He  is  a  lonely  spirit, 
religious  even  in  his  anti-religionism,  full  of  reverence,  but  ignorant 
what  to  worship ;  a  splendid  poet,  feeding  his  spirit  on  the  husks 
of  mechanical  causation. 

With  regard  to  his  language,  there  can  be  but  one  opinion.  It 
is  at  times  harsh,  at  times  redundant,  at  times  prosaic  ;  but  at  a 
time  when  "  Greek,  and  often  debased  Greek,  had  made  fatal  in- 
roads into  the  national  idiom,"  his  Latin  has  the  purity  of  that  of 
Cicero  01  Terence.  Like  Lucilius,  he  introduces  single  Greek 
words,s  a  practice  which  Horace  wisely  rejects,9  but  which  is 

1  Contrast  him  with   Manilius,  or  with  Ovid  in   the  last  book  of  the 
Metamorphoses,  or  with  the  author  of  Etna.    The  difference  is  immense. 
«  Lu.  ii.  371.  3  I*,  v.  18.  ^  Ih>  Ib.  v.  3. 

•  lb.  airddeia,  *  lb.  v.  1201,  sqq. 

1  The  passage  in  which  they  are  described  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful 
In  Latin  poetry,  iii.  18,  sqq.     Cf.  ii.  644. 
8  E.g.  6fjLoio}jL6peia,  and  various  terms  of  endearment,  iv.  1154-63. 

•  S.  i.  10. 


LUCKETIUS.  229 

revived  in  the  poetry  of  the  Empire.1  His  poetical  ornaments 
are  those  of  the  older  writers.  Archaism,2  alliteration,3  and  as- 
sonance ahound  in  his  pages.  These  would  not  have  been  regarded 
as  defects  by  critics  like  Cicero  or  Varro ;  they  are  instances  of  his 
determination  to  give  way  in  nothing  to  the  fashion  of  the  day. 

His  style4  is  fresh,  strong,  and  impetuous,  but  frequently  and 
intentionally  rugged.  Repetitions  occasionally  wearisome,  and 
prosaic  constructions,  occur.  Poetry  is  sacrificed  to  logic  in  the 
innumerable  particles  of  transition,5  and  in  the  painful  precision 
which  at  times  leaves  nothing  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader. 
But  his  vocabulary  is  not  prosaic ;  it  is  poetical  to  a  degree  ex- 
ceeding that  of  all  other  Latin  writers.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that 
he  did  not  oftener  allow  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  the  stroke  of 
the  thyrsus,  which  impelled  him  to  strive  for  the  meed  of  praise.6 

He  is  not  often  mentioned  in  later  literature.  Quintilian  charac- 
terises him  as  elegant  but  difficult;7  Ovid  and  Statius  warmly  praise 
him;8  Horace  alludes  to  him  as  his  own  teacher  in  philosophy;9 
Virgil,  though  he  never  mentions  his  name,  refers  to  him  in  a 
celebrated  passage,  and  shows  in  all  his  works  traces  of  a  profound 
Btudy  of,  and  admiration  for,  his  poetry.10  Ovid  draws  largely  from 
him  in  the  Metamorphoses,  and  Manilius  had  evidently  adopted 
him  as  a  model.  The  writer  of  Etna  echoes  his  language  and 
sentiments,  and  Tacitus,  in  a  later  generation,  speaks  of  critics 
who  even  preferred  him  to  Virgil.  The  irreligious  tendency  of 
his  work  seems  to  have  brought  his  name  under  a  cloud;  and 
those  who  copied  him  may  have  thought  it  wiser  not  to  acknow- 
ledge their  debt.  The  later  Empire  and  the  Middle  Ages  remained 
indifferent  to  a  poem  which  sought  to  disturb  belief;  it  was  when 
the  scepticism  of  the  eighteenth  century  broke  forth  that  Lucretius's 
power  was  first  fully  felt.  Since  the  time  of  Boyle  he  has  com- 
manded from  some  minds  an  almost  enthusiastic  admiration.  His 
spirit  lives  in  Shelley,  though  he  has  not  yet  found  a  poet  of 

1  E.g.  frequently  in  Juvenal. 

*  E.  g.  terrai  frugiferai :  lumina  sis  oculis :  indugredi,  volta,  vacefit,  facii 
are  on  the  analogy  of  Fnnius's  cere  comminuit  brum,  salsae  lacrimae,  &c. 

3  See  Appendix. 

4  Besides  the  passages  quoted  or  referred  to,  the  following  throw  \\«\i\ 
upon  his  opinions  or  genius.  The  introduction  (i.  1-55),  the  attack  on 
mythology  (ii,  161-181,  591-650) ;  that  on  the  fear  of  death  (iii.  943-983), 
the  account  of  the  progress  of  the  arts  (v.  1358-1408),  and  the  reeommeir 
datiin  of  a  calm  3iind  (v.  56-77). 

6  E.g.  quocirca.  quandoquiderri;  id  ita  esse,  quod  supercst,  Hue  accedit  ut,  &c 
6  Lu.  i.  914.      7  Qu.  x.  1,  87.      8Ov.  Am.  i.  15,  23;  Stat.  Silv.  ii.  7,  76. 
9  Hor.  Deos  didici  securum  agere  aevom,  S.  i.  v.  101. 
10  Georg.  ii.  490.     Omnington  in  his  edition  of  Virgil,  points  out  hundred 
of  imitations  of  his  diction. 


Is. 


230  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

kindred  genius  to  translate  him.     But  his  great  name  and  tho 
force  with  which  he  strikes  chords  to  which  every  soul  at  times 
,    vibrates  must,  now  that  he  is  once  known,  secure  for  him  a  high 
r    place  among  the  masters  of  thoughtful  song. 

Transpadane  Gaul  was  at  this  time  fertile  in  poets.  Besides 
two  of  the  first  order  it  produced  several  of  the  second  rank. 
Among  these  M.  Furius  Bibaculus  (1 03-29?  b.c.)  must  be  noticed. 
His  exact  date  is  uncertain,  but  he  is  known  to  have  lampooned 
both  Julius  and  Augustus  Caesar,1  and  perhaps  lived  to  find  himself 
the  sole  representative  of  the  earlier  race  of  poets.2  He  is  one  of 
the  fsw  men  of  the  period  who  attained  to  old  age.  Some  have 
supposed  that  the  line  of  Horace — 3 

"Turgidus  Alpinus  jugulat  dum  Memnona," 
refers  to  him,  the  nickname  of  Alpinus  having  been  given  him  on 
account  of  his  ludicrous  description  of  Jove  "  spitting  snow  upon 
the  Alps."  Others  have  assigned  the  eight  spurious  lines  on 
Lucilius  in  the  tenth  satire  of  Horace  to  him.  Macrobius  pre- 
serves several  verses  from  his  Bellum  Gallicum,  which  Virgil  has 
not  disdained  to  imitate,  e.g. 

"  Interea  Oceani  linquens  Aurora  cubile." 

M  Rumoresque  serunt  varios  et  multa  requirunt.,, 

"Confimat  dictis  simul  atque  exsuscitat  acres 
Ad  bellanduni  animos  reficitque  ad  praelia  mentes.*4 

Many  of  the  critics  of  this  period  also  wrote  poems.  Among 
these  was  Valerius  Cato,  sometimes  called  Cato  Grammaticus, 
whose  love  elegies  were  known  to  Ovid.  He  also  amused  himself 
with  short  mythological  pieces,  none  of  which  have  come  down  to 
us.  Two  short  poems  called  Dirae  and  Lydia,  which  used  to  be 
printed  among  Virgil's  Catalecta,  bear  his  name,  but  are  now 
generally  regarded  as  spurious.  They  contain  the  bitter  complaints 
of  one  who  was  turned  out  of  his  estate  by  an  intruding  soldier, 
and  his  resolution  to  find  solace  for  all  ills  in  the  love  of  his 
faithful  mistress. 

The  absorbing  interest  of  the  war  between  Caesar  and  Pompey 
compelled  all  classes  to  share  its  troubles;  even  the  poets  did  not 
escape.  They  were  now  very  numerous.  Already  the  vain  desire 
to  write  had  become  universal  among  the  jeunesse  of  the  capital. 
The  seductive  methods  by  which  Alexandrinism  had  made  it 
equally  easy  to  enshrine  in  verse  his  morning  reading  or  his  eve- 

1  Tac.  Ann.  lv.  34. 

1  We  cannot  certainly  gather  that  Furius  was  alive  when  Horace  wroti 

Bat.  ii.  5,  40, 

M  Furius  hibernas  cana  nive  eonspuit  Alpes.* 

»  S.  i.  x.  36.  *  See  Virg.  Aen.  iv.  585;  xii  228;  xL  731 


VARRO  OF  ATAX.  231 

ning's  amour,  proved  too  great  an  attraction  foi  the  young  Roman 
votary  of  the  muses.  Rome  already  teemed  with  the  class  so 
pitilessly  satirized  by  Horace  and  Juvei  al,  the 

"Saecli  incommoda,  pessimi  poetae." 

The  first  name  of  any  celebrity  is  that  of  Varro  Atacinus,  a 
native  of  Gallia  Narbonensis.  He  was  a  varied  and  prolific 
writer,  who  cultivated  with  some  success  at  least  three  domains  of 
poetry.  In  his  younger  days  he  wrote  satires,  but  without  any 
aptitude  for  the  work.1  These  he  deserted  for  the  epos,  in  which 
he  gained  some  credit  by  his  poem  on  the  Sequanian  War.  This 
was  a  national  epic  after  the  manner  of  Ennius,  but  from  the 
silence  of  later  poets  we  may  conjecture  that  it  did  not  retain  its 
popularity.  At  the  age  of  thirty-five  he  began  to  study  with 
diligence  the  Alexandrine  models,  and  gained  much  credit  by  his 
translation  of  the  Argonautica  of  Apollonius.  Ovid  often  men- 
tions this  poem  with  admiration ;  he  calls  Varro  the  poet  of  the 
sail-tossing  sea,  says  no  age  will  be  ignorant  of  his  fame,  and  even 
thinks  the  ocean  gods  may  have  helped  him  to  compose  his  song.2 
Quintilian  with  better  judgment3  notes  his  deficiency  both  in 
originality  and  copiousness,  but  allows  him  the  merit  of  a  careful 
translator.  We  gather  from  a  passage  of  Ovid4  that  he  wrote 
love  poems,  and  from  other  sources  that  he  translated  Greek  works 
on  topography  and  meteorology,  both  strictly  copied  from  the 
Alexandrines. 

Besides  Varro,  we  hear  of  Ticidas,  of  Mbmmius  the  friend  of 
Lucretius,  of  C.  Helvlus  Cinna,  and  C.  Licinius  Calvus,  as 
writers  of  erotic  poetry.  The  last  two  were  also  eminent  in  other 
branches.  Cinna  (50  b.c.),  who  is  mentioned  by  Virgil  as  a  poet 
superior  to  himself,5  gained  renown  by  his  Smyrna,  an  epic 
based  on  the  unnatural  love  of  Myrrha  for  her  father  Cinyras,6 
on  which  revolting  subject  he  bestowed  nine  years 7  of  elabora- 
tion, tricking  it  out  with  every  arid  device  that  pedantry's  long 
list  could  supply.  Its  learning,  however,  prevented  it  from  being 
neglected.  Until  the  Aeneid  appeared,  it  was  considered  the 
fullest  repository  of  choice  mythological  lore.  It  was  perhaps 
the  nearest  approach  ever  made  ill  Rome  to  an  original  Alex- 
andrine poem.  Calvus  (82-47  b.c),  who  is  geneiJly  coupled 
with  Catullus,  was  a  distinguished  orator  as  well  as  poet.  Cicero 
pays  him  the  compliment  of  honourable  mention  in  the  Brututf 

1  Hor.  S.  i.  x.  46,  expcrto  frustra  Varrone  Atacino. 

•  Ov.  Am.  i.  xv.  21;  Ep.  ex.  Pont  iv.  xvi.  21.  6  Qu.  x.  1,  87. 

4  Trist.  ii.  439.    For  some  specimens  of  his  manner  see  App.to  chap.  i.  note  & 

•  Eel.  ix.  35.  •  Told  by  Ovid  (Mctam.  bk  x.). 
7  Cat.  *c*.  1.                                      •  Cic.  {Brut.)  lxxxii.  283. 


232  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

praising  his  parts  and  lamenting  his  early  death.  He  thinks  his 
success  would  have  been  greater  had  he  forgotten  himself  more. 
This  egotism  was  probably  not  wanting  to  his  poetry,  but  much 
may  be  excused  him  on  account  of  his  youth.  It  is  difficult  to 
form  an  opinion  of  his  style ;  the  epithets,  gravis,  vehemens,  exilis 
(which  apply  rather  to  his  oratory  than  to  his  poetry),  seem  con- 
tradictory ;  the  last  strikes  us  as  the  most  discriminating.  Besides 
short  elegies  like  those  of  Catullus,  he  wrote  an  epic  called  Io, 
as  well  as  lampoons  against  Pompey  and  other  leading  men.  We 
possess  none  of  his  fragments. 

From  Calvus  we  pass  to  Catullus.  This  great  poet  was  born  at 
Verona  (87  b.c),  and  died,  according  to  Jerome,  in  his  thirty-first 
year ;  but  this  is  generally  held  to  be  an  error,  and  Prof.  Ellis 
fixes  his  death  in  54  b.c.  In  either  case  he  was  a  young  man 
when  he  died,  and  this  is  an  important  consideration  in  criticising 
his  poems.  He  came  as  a  youth  to  Rome,  where  he  mixed  freely 
in  the  best  society,  and  where  he  continued  to  reside,  except  when 
his  health  or  fortunes  made  a  change  desirable.1  At  such  times 
he  resorted  either  to  Sirmio,  a  picturesque  spot  on  the  Lago  di 
Garda,2  where  he  had  a  villa,  or  else  to  his  Tiburtine  estate,  which, 
he  tells  us,  he  mortgaged  to  meet  certain  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments.3 Among  his  friends  were  Nepos,  who  first  acknowledged 
his  genius,4  to  whom  the  grateful  poet  dedicated  his  book: 
Cicero,  whose  eloquence  he  warmly  admired;6  Pollio,  Cornificius, 
Cinna,  and  Calvus,  besides  many  others  less  known  to  fame. 
Like  all  warm  natures,  he  was  a  good  hater.  Caesar  and  his 
friend  Mamurra  felt  his  satire ; 6  and  though  he  was  afterwards 
reconciled  to  Caesar,  the  reconciliation  did  not  go  beyond  a  cold 
indifference.7  To  Mamurra  he  was  implacably  hostile,  but  satir- 
ised him  under  the  fictitious  name  of  Mentula  to  avoid  offending 
Caesar.  His  life  was  that  of  a  thorough  man  of  pleasure,  who 
was  also  a  man  of  letters.  Indifferent  to  politics,  he  formed 
f .  iendships  and  enmities  for  personal  reasons  alone.  Two  events 
in  his  life  are  important  for  us,  since  they  affected  his  genius — 
his  love  for  Lesbia,  and  his  brother's  death.  The  former  was  the 
master-passion  of  his  life.  It  began  in  the  fresh  devotion  of  a 
nrst  love ;  it  survived  the  cruel  shocks  of  infidelity  and  indiffer- 
ence; and,  though  no  longer  as  before  united  with  respect,  it 

1  Romae  vivimus :  ilia  domus,  lxviii.  34.        s  See.  C.  xxxi.  *  C.  xxv, 

4  C.  i.  5  C.  xlix.  6  C.  xciii.  lvii.  xxix. 

7  What  a  different  character  does  this  reveal  from  that  of  the  Augustae 

poets  I     Ommnrp  the  sentiment  in  C.  ?:cii. : 

M  FU  nimium  studeo  Catsar  tibi  velle  placere 
Wee  scire  ttrum  tit  iJbvs  an  ater  homo.'1 


CATULLUS.  233 

endured  unextinguished  to  the  end,  burning  with  the  passion  ol 
despair. 

Who  Lesbia  was,  has  been  the  subject  of  much  discussion. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Apuleius's  information  is  correct, 
and  that  her  real  name  was  Olodia.  If  so,  it  is  most  natural  to 
supposs  her  the  same  with  that  abandoned  woman,  the  sister  of 
P.  Clodius  Pulcher,  whom  Cicero  brands  with  infamy  in  his 
speech  for  Caelius.  Unwillingness  to  associate  the  graceful  verse 
of  Catullus  with  a  theme  so  unworthy  has  perhaps  led  the  critica 
to  question  without  reason  the  identity.  But  the  portrait 
drawn  by  the  poet  when  at  length  his  eyes  were  opened, 
answers  but  too  truly  to  that  of  the  orator.  Few  things  in  all 
literature  are  sadder  than  the  spectacle  of  this  trusting  and  gene- 
rous spirit  withered  by  the  unkindness,  as  it  had  been  soiled  by 
the  favours,  of  this  evil  beauty.1  The  life  which  began  in  raptu- 
rous devotion  ends  in  hopeless  gloom.  The  poet  whose  every 
nerve  was  strung  to  the  delights  of  an  unselfish  though  guilty 
passion,  now  that  the  spell  is  broken,  finds  life  a  burden,  and 
confronts  with  relief  the  thought  of  death  which,  as  he  antici- 
\/  pated,  soon  came  to  end  his  sorrows. 

The  affection  of  Catullus  for  his  only  brother,  lost  to  him  by 
an  early  death,  forms  the  counterpoise  to  his  love  for  Lesbia. 
Where  this  brings  remorse,  the  other  brings  a  soothing  melan- 
choly; the  memory  of  this  sacred  sorrow  struggles  to  cast  out  the 
harassing  regrets  that  torment  his  soul.2  Nothing  can  surpass  the 
simple  pathos  with  which  he  alludes  to  this  event.  It  is  the  subject 
of  one  short  elegy,3  and  enters  largely  into  another.  When 
travelling  with  the  pro-praetor  Memmius  into  Bithynia,  he  visited 
his  brother's  tomb  at  Ehoeteum  in  the  Troad.  It  was  on  his 
return  from  this  journey,  undertaken,  but  without  success,  in  the 
hope  of  bettering  his  fortune,  that  he  wrote  the  little  poem  to 
Sirmio,4  which  dwells  on  the  associations  of  home  witb  a  sweet- 
ness perhaps  unequalled  in  ancient  poetry.5 

In  this,  and  indeed  in  all  his  shorter  pieces,  his  character  is 
unmistakably  revealed.  No  writer,  ancient  or  modern,  is  more 
frank  than  he.  He  neither  hides  his  own  faults,  nor  desires  his 
friends  to  hide  theirs  from  him;6  his  verses  are  the  honest  spon- 

1  For  the  character  of  Clodia,  see  Cic.  pro  Cael.  passim ;  and  for  her 
criminal  passion  for  her  brother,  compare  Cat.  lxxix.,  which  is  only  intelli- 
gible if  so  understood.     Cf.  also  lviii.  xci.  lxxvi. 

2  The  beautiful  and  pathetic  poem  (C.  lxxvi.)  in  which  he  expresses  hi* 
longing  for  peace  of  mind  suggests  this  remark. 

a  C.  lxv.  and  lxviii.  4  C.  xxii. 

*  Compare,  however,  Lncr.  iii.  606-8. 

*  0.  vl  15,  qaicquid  habes  boni  malique  Die  nobis. 


234  HISTOliY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

taneous  expression  of  his  every-day  lif e.  In  them  we  see  a  youth 
ardent,  unaffected,  impulsive,  generous,  courteous,  and  outspoken, 
but  indifferent  to  the  serious  interests  of  life;  recklessly  self-indulg- 
ent, plunging  into  the  grossest  sensuality,  and  that  with  so  little 
sense  of  guilt  as  to  appeal  to  Heaven  as  witness  of  the  purity  of 
his  life  :l  we  see  a  poet,  full  of  delicate  feeling  and  of  love  for 
the  beautiful,  with  a  strong  lyrical  impulse  fresh  as  that  of 
Greece,  f.nd  an  appreciation  of  Greek  feeling  that  makes  him 
revive  the  very  inspiration  of  Greek  genius;2  with  a  chaste  simpli- 
city of  style  that  faithfully  reflects  every  mood,  and  with  an 
amount  of  learning  which,  if  inconsiderable  as  compared  with 
that  of  the  Augustan  poets,  much  exceeded  that  of  his  chief  prede- 
cessors, and  secured  for  him  the  honourable  epithet  of  the  learned 
(docius).3 

The  poems  of  Catullus  fall  naturally  into  three  divisions, 
doubtless  made  by  the  poet  himself.  These  are  the  short  lyrical 
pieces  in  various  metres,  containing  the  best  known  of  those  to 
Lesbia,  besides  others  to  his  most  intimate  friends;  then  come 
the  longer  poems,  mostly  in  heroic  or  elegiac  metre,  representing 
the  higher  flights  of  his  genius ;  and  lastly,  the  epigrams  on 
divers  subjects,  all  in  the  elegiac  metre,  of  which  both  the  list 
and  the  text  are  imperfect  In  all  we  meet  with  the  same  care- 
less grace  and  simplicity  both  of  thought  and  diction,  but  all  do  not 
show  the  same  artistic  skilL  The  judgment  that  led  Catullus  to 
place  his  lyric  poems  in  the  foreground  was  right.  They  are  the 
best  known,  the  best  finished,  and  the  most  popular  of  all  his 
compositions ;  the  four  to  Lesbia,  the  one  to  Sirmio,  and  that  on 
Acme  and  Septimus,  are  perhaps  the  most  perfect  lyrics  in  the 
Latin  language ;  and  others  are  scarcely  inferior  to  them  in 
elegance.  The  hendecasyllabic  rhythm,  in  which  the  greater 
part  are  written,  is  the  one  best  suited  to  display  the  poet's  special 
gifts.  Of  this  metre  he  is  the  first  and  only  master.  Horace 
does  not  employ  it ;  and  neither  Martial  nor  Statius  avoids  mono- 
tony in  the  use  of  it.  The  freedom  of  cadence,  the  varied  caesura, 
and  the  licences  in  the  first  foot,4  give  the  charm  of  irregular 
beauty,  so  sweet  in  itself  and  ?o  rare  in  Latin  poetry ;  and  th6 
rhythm  lends  itself  with  squal  ease  to  playful  humour,  fierce 

1  See  xix.  5-9,  and  Ixxvi.  2  Especially  in  the  Attis. 

3  Ov.  Amor.  lii.  9,  62,  docte  Catullc.  So  Mart.  viii.  73,  8.  Perhaps  sati- 
rically alluded  to  by  Horace,  simhts  istc  Nil  practer  Calvum  et  doctur 
cantor c  Catullum.     S.  I.  x. 

4  The  first  foot  may  be  a  spondee,  a  tro  hee,  or  an  iambus.  The  licence  ii 
regarded  as  duriusculum  by  Pliny  the  Elder.  But  in  this  case  freedom 
suited  the  Roman  treatment  of  the  n.etre  better  than  strictness. 


CATULLUS.  235 

satire,  and  tender  affection.     Other  measures,  used  with  more  or 
less  success,  are  the  iambic  scazon,1  the  choriambic,  the  gly conic, 
and  the  sapphic,  all  probably  introduced  from  the   Greek  by 
Catullus.      Of  these  the  sapphic  is  the  least  perfected.     If  the 
eleventh  and  fifty-first  odes  be  compared  with  the  sapphic  odes  of 
Horace,  the  great  metrical  superiority  of  the  latter  will  at  once 
appear.     Catullus  copies  the  Greek  rhythm  in  its  details  without 
asking  whether  these  are  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of  the 
Latin  language.     Horace,  by  adopting  stricter  rules,  produces  a 
much  more  harmonious  effect.     The  same  is  true  of  Catullus's 
treatment  of  the  elegiac,  as  compared  with  that  of  Propertius  or 
Ovid.     The  Greek  elegiac  does  not  require  any  stop  at  the  end  of 
the  couplet,  nor  does  it  affect  any  special  ending ;  words  of  seven 
syllables  or  less  are  used  by  it  indifferently.      The  trisyllabic 
ending,  which  i.  all  but  unknown  to  Ovid,  occurs  continually  in 
Catullus ;  even  the  monosyllabic,  which  is  altogether  avoided  by 
succeeding  poets,  occurs  once.2    Another  licence,  still  more  alien 
from  Roman   usage,   is   the   retention   of  a   short   or  unelided 
syllable  at  the  end  of  the  first  penthemimer.3    Catullus's  elegiac 
belongs  to  the  class  of   half-adapted  importations,  beautiful  in 
its  way,  but  rather  because  it  recalls  the  exquisite  cadences  of  the 
Greek  than  as  being  in  itself  a  finished  artistic  product. 

The  six  long  poems  are  of  unequal  merit.  The  modern  reader 
will  not  find  much  to  interest  him  in  the  Coma  Berenices, 
abounding  as  it  does  in  mythological  allusions.*  The  poem  to 
Mallius  or  Allius,6  written  at  Verona,  is  partly  mythological, 
partly  personal,  and  though  somewhat  desultory,  contains  many 
fine  passages.  Catullus  pleads  his  want  of  books  as  an  excuse  for 
a  poor  poem,  implying  that  a  full  library  was  his  usual  resort  for 
composition.     This  poem  was  written  shortly  after  his  brother's 

1  A  trimeter  iambic  line  with  a  spondee  in  the  last  place,  which  must 
always  be  preceded  by  an  iambus,  e.g.  Miser  Catulle  desinas  Ineptire. 

2  E.g.  in  C.  lxxxiv.  (12  lines)  there  is  not  a  single  dissyllabic  ending. 
In  one  place  we  have  dictaque  factaque  sunt.  I  think  Martial  also  has 
hoc  scio,  non  amo  te.  The  best  instance  of  continuous  narration  in  this 
metre  is  lxvi.  105-30,  Quo  tibi  turn — canc'liata  viro,  a  veiy  sonorous  passage. 

3  Kg.  Perfccta  exigitur  \  una  amicitiu  (see  Ellis.  Catull.  Proleg.),  and 
Iupiter  ut  Chalybtim  \  omne  genus  pereat,  which  is  in  accord  with  old 
Koman  usage,  and  is  modelled  on  Callimachus's  Zed  varep,  &s  xa*v&u*  *«* 
kir6\oiro  yevos. 

4  This  has  been  alluded  to  under  Aratus.  As  a  specimen  of  Catullus's  style 
of  translation,  we  append  two  lines,  *H  /*€  YLovwv  tflXetyev  4r  ycpi  rbr 
hepfvixrjs  &6aTpvxov  t>p  Kelvrj  waaiv  edt\Ke  OeoTs,  which  are  thus  rendered, 
Idem  me  ille  Conon  caelesti  munere  vidit  E  Bereniceo  vertice  caesariem  Ful- 
gent ero  clare,  quam  multis  ilia  deorum  Leria  protendens  brachia  pollicita 
e*>.    The  additions  are  characteristic.  6  clxviii. 


236  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

death,  which  throws  a  vein  of  melancholy  into  the  thought.  In 
it,  and  still  more  happily  in  his  two  JSpithalamia,1  he  paints  with 
deep  feeling  the  joys  of  wedded  love.  The  former  of  these,  which 
celebrates  the  marriage  of  Manlius  Torquatus,  is  the  loveliest 
product  of  his  genius.  It  is  marred  by  a  few  gross  allusions,  bjt 
they  are  not  enough  to  interfere  with  its  general  effect.  It  rings 
throughout  with  joyous  exultation,  and  on  the  whole  is  innocent 
as  well  as  full  of  warm  feeling.  It  is  all  movement ;  the  scene 
opens  before  us ;  the  marriage  god  wreathed  with  flowers  and 
holding  the  flammeum,  or  nuptial  vtd,  leads  the  dance;  then  tht 
doors  open,  and  amid  waving  torches  the  bride,  blushing  like  the 
purple  hyacinth,  enters  with  downcast  mien,  her  friends  comfort- 
ing her;  the  bridegroom  stands  by  and  throws  nuts  to  the 
assembled  guests  ;  light  railleries  are  banded  to  and  fro ;  meanwhile 
the  bride  is  lifted  over  the  threshold,  and  sinks  on  the  nuptial 
couch,  alba  parthenice  velnt,  luteumve  papaver.  The  different 
sketches  of  Aurunculeia  as  the  loving  bride,  the  chaste  matron, 
and  the  aged  grandame  nodding  kindly  to  everybody,  please  from 
their  unadorned  simplicity  as  well  as  from  their  innate  beauty. 

The  second  of  these  Epithalamia  is,  if  not  translated,  certainly 
modelled  from  the  Greek,  and  in  its  imagery  reminds  us  of  Sappho. 
It  is  less  ardent  and  more  studied  than  the  first,  and  though  its 
tone  is  far  less  elevated,  it  gains  a  special  charm  from  its  calm, 
almost  statuesque  language.2  The  Nuptials  of  Peleus  and  Thetis 
is  a  miniature  epic,3  such  as  were  often  written  by  the  Alexan- 
drian poets.  Short  as  it  is,  it  contains  two  plots,  one  within  the 
other.  The  story  of  Peleus's  marriage  is  made  the  occasion  for 
describing  the  scene  embroidered  on  the  coverlet  or  cushion  of  the 
marriage  bed.  This  contains  the  loves  of  Theseus  and  Ariadne, 
the  Minotaur,  the  Labyrinth,  the  return  of  Theseus,  his  desertion 
of  Ariadne,  and  her  reception  into  the  stars  by  Iacchus.  The 
poem  is  unequal  in  execution ;  the  finest  passages  are  the  lament 
of  Ariadne,  which  Virgil  has  imitated  in  that  of  Dido,  and  the 
song  of  the  Fates,  which  gives  the  first  instances  of  those  refrains 
taken  from  the  Greek  pastoral,  which  please  so  much  in  the 
Eclogues,  and  in  Tennyson's  May  Queen.  The  Atys  or  Attis 
stands  alone  among  the  poet's  works.  Its  subject  is  the  self 
mutilation  of  a  noble  youth  out  of  zeal  for  Cybele's  worship,  and 
is  probably  a  study  from  the  Greek,  though  of  what  period  it 
would  be  hard  to  ^ay.  A  theme  so  unnatural  would  have  found 
little  favour  with  the  Attic  poets ;  the  subject  is  more  likely  to 
have  been  approached  by  the  Alexandrian  writers,  whom  Catullm 

1  Oa.  clxi:  lxii. 

•Thy  conceit  in  v.  63,  Q-i,  must  suivly  be  Gm;k.  8  'EyrtWi**. 


CATTOLUS.  23? 

often  copies.  But  these  tame  and  pedantic  versifiers  could  hava 
given  no  precedent  for  the  wild  inspiration  of  this  strange  poem, 
which  clothes  in  the  music  of  finished  art  bursts  of  savage  emotion. 
The  metre  is  galliambic,  a  rhythm  proper  to  the  hymns  of  Cybele, 
but  of  which  no  primitive  Greek  example  remains.  The  poem 
cannot  be  perused  with  pleasure,  but  must  excite  astonishment  at 
the  power  it  displays.  The  language  is  tinged  with  archaisms, 
especially  compounds  like  hederigera,  silvicultrix.  In  general 
Catullus  writes  in  the  plain  unaffected  language  of  daily  life.  His 
effects  are  produced  by  the  freshness  rather  than  the  choiceness  of 
his  terms,  and  by  his  truth  to  nature  and  good  taste.  His  con- 
struction of  sentences,  like  that  of  Lucretius,  becomes  at  times 
prosaic,  from  the  effort  to  avoid  all  ambiguity.  If  the  first  forty 
lines  of  his  Epistle  to  Mallius1  be  studied  and  compared  with  any 
of  Ovid's  Epistles  from  Pontns,  the  great  difference  in  this  respect 
will  at  once  be  seen.  Later  writers  leave  most  of  the  particles  of 
transition  to  be  supplied  by  the  reader's  intelligence :  Catullus,  like 
Sophocles,  indicates  the  sequence  of  thought.  Nevertheless  poetry 
lost  more  than  it  gained  by  the  want  of  grammatical  connection 
between  successive  passages,  which,  while  it  adds  point,  detracts 
from  clearness,  and  makes  the  interpretation,  for  example,  of 
Persius  and  Juvenal  very  much  less  satisfactory  than  that  of 
Lucretius  or  Horace. 

The  genius  of  Catullus  met  with  early  recognition.  Cornelius 
Nepos,  in  his  life  of  Atticus  (ch.  xii.),  couples  him  with  Lucretius 
as  the  first  poet  of  the  age  (nostra  aetas),  and  his  popularity, 
though  obscured  during  the  Augustan  period,  soon  revived,  and 
remained  undiminished  until  the  close  of  Latin  literature.  During 
the  Middle  Ages  Catullus  was  nearly  being  lost  to  us  ;  he  is 
preserved  in  but  one  manuscript  discovered  in  the  fourteenth 
century.2 

Catullus  is  the  last  of  the  Eepublican  poets.  Separated  by  but 
a  few  years  from  the  Eclogues  of  Virgil,  a  totally  different  spirit 
pervades  the  works  of  the  two  writers ;  while  Catullus  is  free, 
unblushing,  and  fearless,  owing  allegiance  to  no  man,  Virgil  is 
already  guarded,  restrained,  and  diffident  of  himself,  trusting  to 
Pollio  or  Augustus  to  perfect  his  muse,  and  guide  it  to  its  proper 
sphere.  In  point  of  language  the  two  periods  show  no  break  :  in 
point  of  feeling  they  are  altogether  different.  A  few  survived 
from  the  one  into  the  other,  but  as  a  rule  they  relapsed  into 
silence,  or  indulged  merely  in  declamation.  We  feel  that  Catullus 
was  fortunate  in  dying  before  the  battle  of  A  ctium ;  had  he  lived 

1  C   68.  *  See  Ellis.  Cat  Prolegomena. 


238 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


into  the  Augustan  age,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  he  could  have 
found  a  place  there  He  is  a  fitting  close  to  this  passionate  and 
stormy  period,  a  youth  in  whom  all  ite  qualities  for  good  and  evil 
have  their  fullest  embodiment. 


APPENDIX. 

Note  I.— On  the  Use  of  Alliteration  in  Latin  Poetry* 


It  la  impossible  to  read  the  earlier 
Latin  poets,  or  even  Virgil,  without 
seeing  that  they  abound  in  repetitions 
of  the  same  letter  or  sound,  either  in- 
tentionally introduced  or  unconsci- 
ously presenting  themselves  owing  to 
constant  habit.  Alliteration  and  as- 
sonance are  the  natural  ornaments  of 
poetry  in  a  rude  age.  In  Anglo-Saxon 
literature  alliteration  is  one  of  the 
chief  ways  of  distinguishing  poetry 
from  prose.  But  when  a  strict  pro- 
sody is  formed,  it  is  no  longer  needed. 
Thus  in  almost  all  civilised  poetry  it 
has  been  discarded,  except  r.s  an  oc- 
casional and  appropriate  ornament  for 
a  special  purpose.  Greek  poetry  gives 
few  instances.  The  art  of  Homer  has 
long  passed  the  stage  at  which  such 
an  aid  to  effect  is  sought  for.  The 
cadence  of  the  Greek  hexameter  would 
be  marred  by  so  inartistic  a  device. 
The  dramatists  resort  to  it  now  and 
then,  e.g.  Oedipus,  in  his  blind  rage, 
thus  taunts  Tiresias  : 

rv<f>\bs  ri  t'  S>ra  rov  t«  povp  rd  T 

i/xfiar'  el. 

But  here  the  alliteration  is  as  true  to 
nature  as  it  is  artistically  effective. 
For  it  is  known  that  violent  emotion 
irresistibly  compels  us  to  heap  to- 
gether si  nrilar  sounds.  Several  subtle 
and  probably  unconscious  instances  of 
it  are  given  by  Peile  from  the  Idyllic 
poets ;  but  as  a  rule  it  is  true  of  Greek 
M  it  is  of  English,  French,  and  Italian 
poetry,  that  when  metre,  caesura,  or 
rhyme,  hold  sway,  alliteration  plays 


an  altogether  subordinate  part  It  if 
otherwise  in  Latin  poetry.  Here, 
owing  to  the  fondness  for  all  that  is 
old,  alliteration  is  retained  in  what  is 
correspondingly  a  much  later  period 
of  growth.  After  Virgil,  indeed,  it 
almost  disappears,  but  as  used  by  him 
it  is  such  an  instrument  for  effect, 
that  perhaps  the  discontinuance  of  it 
was  a  loss  rather  than  a  gain.  It  is 
employed  in  Latin  poetry  for  various 
purposes.  Plautus  makes  it  subser- 
vient to  comic  effect  (Capt.  903, 
quoted  by  Munro.). 

"  Qudnta  pSrnit  pestit  vtniet,  qudnta  Idbt* 

Idrido, 
Qudnta  siiminidbsumedo,  qudnta  cdllo  tdUk- 

mitas 
Qudnta  laniis  tdssitudo." 

Compare  our  verse : 

"  Ritfbt  round  the  nigged  rock  the  ragged 
rascal  ran." 

Ennius  and  the  tragedians  make  it 
express  the  stronger  emotions,  as 
violence : 

■  Priamo  vi  vitam  evitari." 

So  Virgil,  imitating  him  :  fit  via  vi; 
Luer.  vivida  vis  animi  pcrvicit;  or 
again  pity,  which  is  expressed  by  the 
same  letter  (pronounced  as  w),  e  g. 
neu  patriae  validas  in  viscera  vert  its 
vires;  viva  videns  vivo  sepeliri  viscera 
busto,  from  Virgil  and  Lucr.  respec- 
tively. A  hard  letter  expresses  diffi- 
culty or  effort,  e.g.  manibus  magnot 
divellere  mont.is.  So  Pope :  Up  thi 
high  hill  he  heaves  a  hvge  round  stone 
Or  emphasis,  par  are  non  potuit  pcd4 


APPENDIX. 


239 


bus  qui  pontum  per  vada  possent,  from 
Lucretius;  multaque  praefcra*  vatum 
yra.edi.ta  \>r\orwm,  from  Virgil.  Rarely 
it  has  no  special  appropriateness,  or 
is  a  mere  display  of  ingenuity,  as  :  0 
Tite  tute  Tati  tibi  tanta  tyranne 
tulisti  (Ennius).  Assonance  is  al- 
most equally  common,  and  is  even 
more  strange  to  our  taste.  In 
Greek,  Hebrew,  and  many  languages, 
it  occurs  in  the  form  of  Paronoma- 
sia, or  play  on  words;  but  this  pre- 
supposes a  rapport  between  the 
name  and  what  is  implied  by  it. 
Assonance  in  Latin  poetry  has  no  such, 
relevance.  It  simply  emphasizes  or 
adorns,  e.g.  August  augu Ho  postquam 
incluta  condita  Roma  est  (Enn. )  ; 
pulcram  pulcritudinem  (Plaut).  It 
takes  divers  forms,  e.g.  the  dfioiore- 
\evrov,  akin  to  our  rhyme.  Vincla 
recus&ntnmetsera sub  node  rw^entum ; 
cornua  velataxxam  obvertimus  antenn- 
arum.  The  beginnings  of  rhyme  are 
here  seen,  and  perhaps  still  more  in 
the  elegiac,  debuerant  fusos  evoluisse 


meos'y  or  Sapphic,  Pone  me  pigri*  vH 
nulla  tampis  Arbor  aestiva,  recrcatuf 
aura.  Other  varieties  of  assonance 
are  the  frequent  employment  of  the 
same  preposition  in  the  same  part  of  the 
foot,  e.g.  insontem,  infando  indicio — 
disjectis  disque  supatis;  the  mere  repe- 
tition of  the  same  word,  lacerum  cru* 
deliter  ora,  ora  manusque;  or  of  a 
different  inflexion  of  it,  omnis  feret 
omnia  tellus,  non  omnia  possumu* 
omncs'y  most  often  of  all,  by  employing 
several  words  of  a  somewhat  similar 
sound,  what  is  in  fact  a  jingle,  e.g. 
the  well-known  line,  Cedant  arma 
togae  concedat  laurat  \ax\di;  or  again, 
mente  cfomente  edita  (Laberius). 
Instances  of  this  are  endless ;  and  in 
estimating  the  mechanical  structure  of 
Latin  poetry,  which  is  the  chief  side 
of  it,  we  observe  the  care  with  which 
the  greatest  artists  retain  every  method 
of  producing  effect,  even  if  somewhat 
old  fashioned.  (See  on  this  subject 
Munro's  Lucr.  preface  to  Notes  II. 
which  has  often  been  referred  to.) 


Note  II. — Some  additiona.1  details  on  the  History  of  the  Mimus  (from 
Woelfflin.     Publ.  Syri  Sententiae,  Lips.  1869). 


The  mime   at   first  differed  from 
other  kinds  of  comedy — (1)  in  having 
no  proper  plot  ;  (2)  in  not  being  re- 
presented primarily  on  the  stage  ;  (3) 
in  Inning  but  one  actor.    Eudicos  imi- 
tated /.he  gestures  of  boxing  ;  Theo- 
dorv.'  the  creaking  of  a  windlass;  Par- 
meuo  did  the  grunting  of  a  pig  to  per- 
fection.    Any  one  who  raised  a  laugh 
by  such  kinds  of  imitation  was  pro- 
perly said  mimwn  agere.     Mimes  are 
thus  defined  by  Diomedes  (p.  491,  13 
k),  sermoms  cuiuslibet  et  molds  sine 
reverentia  vel  factorum  et  dictorum 
turpium  cum  lascivia  imitatio.    Such 
mimes  as   these  were  often  held  at 
banquets  for  the  amusement  of  great 
men.     Sulla  was  passionately  fond  of 
tnem.     Admitted  to  the  stage,  they 
naturally  took  the  place  of  interludes 
or  afterpieces.     When  a  map.  imitated 
e.g.  a  muleteer  (Petr.  Sat.  68),  he  had 
his  mule  with  him  ;  or  if  he  imitated 
a  causidicus,   or  a  drunken  ruffian 


(Ath.  14,  621,  c),  some  other  person 
was  by  to  play  the  foil  to  his  violence. 
Thus  arose  the  distinction  of  parts  and 
dialogue  ;  the  chief  actor  was  called 
Archimimus,  and  the  mime  was  then 
developed  after  the  example  of  the 
Atellanae.  When  several  actors 
took  part  in  a  piece,  each  was  said 
mimum  agere,  though  this  phrase 
originally  applied  only  to  the  single 
actor. 

When  the  mime  first  came  on  the 
stage,  it  was  acted  in  front  of  the 
curtain  (Fest.  p.  326,  ed  Mull),  after 
wards,  as  its  proportions  increased,  a 
new  kind  of  curtain  called  siparium 
was  introduced,  so  that  while  the 
mime  was  being  performed  on  this 
new  and  enlarged  proscaenium  the 
preparations  for  the  next  act  of  the 
regular  drama  were  going  on  behind 
the  siparium.  Pliny  (xxxv.  199} 
calls  Syrus  mimicae  scaenae  condi, 
tor  em;  and  as  he  certainly  did  not 


240 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


build  a  theatre,  it  is  most  probable 
that  Pliny  refers  to  bis  invention  of 
the  siparium.  He  evidently  had  a 
natural  genius  for  this  kind  of  repre- 
sentation, in  which  Macrobins  (ii. 
7.  6)  and  Quintilian  allow  him  the 
highest  place.  Laberius  appears  to 
have  been  a  more  careful  writer. 
Syrus  was  not  a  literary  man,  but  an 
improvisator  and  moralist.  His  sen- 
tentiae  were  held  in  great  honour  in 
the  rhetorical  schools  in  the  time  of 
Augustus,  and  are  quoted  by  the  elder 
Seneca  (Contr.  206,  4).  The  younger 
Seneca  also  frequently  quotes  them  in 
his  letters  (Ep.  108,  8,  &c),  and  often 
imitates  their  style.  There  are  some 
interesting  lines  in  Petronius  (Satir. 
55),  which  are  almost  certainly  from 
Syrus.     Being  little  known,  they  are 


worth   quoting  as  a  popular  denui 

ciation  of  luxury — 

*'  Luxuriaerictn  Martis  marcent  moenia, 
Tuo  palato  clausus  pavo  pascitur 
Plumato  amictus  aureo  Banylonico; 
Gallina  tibi  Numidiea,  tit>i  gallus  spado: 
Ciconia  etiam  grara  peregi  ina  hospita 
Pietaticultrix  gracilipes  crofalistiia 
Avis,  exul  hiemis,  titulus  tepidi  teraporia 
Nequitiae  nidum  in  cacabo  fecit  modo. 
Quo  margaiira  cara  tribaca  Indica? 
An  ut  matrona  ornata  phaleiis  pelagiia 
Toll  at  pedes  indomitain  strato  extraneo? 
Zmaragdum  ad  quain  rem  viridem,  pre* 

tiosum  vitram. 
Quo  Carchcdonios  optas  ignes  lapideos 
Nisi  ut  BcintiUealprobitasestcarbunculus.'" 

There  is  a  rude  but  unmistakable 
vigour  in  these  lines  which,  when 
compared  with  the  quotation  from 
Laberius  given  in  the  text  of  the  work, 
cause  us  to  think  very  highly  of  the 
mime  as  patronized  by  Caesar. 


Note  III. — Fragments  of  Valerius  Soranus. 


Tins  writer,  who  was  somewhat  . 
earlier  than  the  present  epoch,  having  ' 
been  a  contemporary  of  Sulla  but 
having  outlived  him,  was  noted  for 
his  great  learning.  He  is  mentioned 
by  Pliny  as  the  first  to  prefix  a  table  of 
contents  to  his  book.  His  native  town, 
Sora,  was  well  known  for  its  activity 
in  liberal  studies.  He  is  said  by  Plu- 
tarch to  have  announced  publicly  the 
secret  name  of  Rome  or  of  her  tutelary 
deity,  for  which  the  gods  punished 
him  by  death.  St.  Augustine  (C.  D. 
vii.  9)  quotes  two  interesting  hexa- 
meters as  from  him ; 


"  Iuplter  omniporens.  rernm  rex  ipse  deusqne 
Progenitor  genet!  ixque,  deum  deua,  unus  et 
onnies." 

Servius  (Aen.  iv.  638)  cites  twc 
verses  of  a  similar  character,  which 
are  most  probably  from  Soranus. 
Iupiter,  addressing  the  gods:  says, 

w  Caelicolae,  mea  membra,  dei,   quos  nostra 
potestas 
Officiis,  di versa  facit." 

These  fragments  show  an  extra, 
ordinary  power  of  condensed  expres- 
sion, as  well  as  a  clear  grasp  on  the 
unity  of  the  Supreme  Being,  for  which 
reason  they  are  quoted. 


PAET  11. 

THE  AUGUSTAN  EPOCH  (42  B.a-14  A.H*. 


CHAPTEE  L 

General  Characteristics. 

The  Augustan  Age  in  its  strictest  sense  does  not  begin  until 
after  the  battle  of  Actium,  when  Augustus,  having  overthrown 
his  competitor,  found  himself  in  undisputed  possession  of  the 
Eoman  world  (31  b.c).  But  as  the  Eclogues,  and  many  of  Horace's 
poems,  were  written  at  an  earlier  date,  and  none  of  these  can  be 
ranked  with  the  Eepublican  literature,  it  is  best  to  assign  the 
commencement  of  the  Augustan  period  to  the  year  of  the  battle  of 
Philippi,  when  the  defeat  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  left  the  old 
constitution  without  a  champion  and  made  monarchy  in  the  per- 
son either  of  Antonius  or  Octavius  inevitable.  This  period  of 
fifty-seven  years,  extending  to  the  death  of  Augustus,  comprises 
a  long  list  of  splendid  writers,  inferior  to  those  of  the  Ciceronian 
age  in  vigour  and  boldness,  but  superior  to  all  but  Cicero  himself 
in  finish  and  artistic  skill  as  well  as  in  breadth  of  human  sym- 
pathy and  suggestive  beauty  of  expression.  It  marks  the  culmi- 
nation of  Latin  poetry,  as  the  last  epoch  marks  the  perfection  of 
Latin  prose.  But  the  bloom  which  had  been  so  long  expanding 
was  short-lived  in  proportion  to  its  sweetness  ;  and  perfect  as 
is  the  art  of  Virgil,  Horace,  and  Tibullus,  within  a  few  years  of 
Horace's  death  both  style  and  thought  had  entered  on  the  path  of 
irretrievable  decline.  The  muse  of  Ovid,  captivating  and  brilliant, 
has  already  lost  the  severe  grace  that  stamps  the  highest  classic 
verse  ;  and  the  false  tendencies  forgiven  in  him  from  admiration  for 
his  talent,  become  painfully  conspicuous  in  his  younger  contem- 
poraries. Livy,  too,  in  the  domain  of  history,  shows  traces  of  that 
poetical  colouring  which  began  more  and  more  to  encroach  on  the 
style  of  prose;  while  in  uhe  work  of  Vitruvius,  on  the  one  band 

Q 


242  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  in  that  of  the  elder  Seneca  on  the  other,  we  observe  two  ten 
dencies  which  helped  to  accelerate  decay ;  the  one  towards  an 
entire  absence  of  literary  finish,  the  other  towards  the  substitution 
of  rich  decoration  for  chaste  ornament. 

There  are  certain  common  features  shared  by  the  chief  Augustan 
authors  which  distinguish  them  from  those  of  the  closing  Repub- 
lic. While  the  latter  were  men  of  birth  and  eminence  in  tie 
state,  the  former  were  mostly  Italians  or  provincials,1  often  of 
humble  origin,  neither  warriors  nor  statesmen,  but  peaceful,  quiet 
natures,  devoid  of  ambition,  and  desiring  only  a  modest  independ- 
ence and  success  in  prosecuting  their  art.  Horace  had  indeed 
fought  for  Brutus ;  but  he  was  no  soldier,  and  alludes  with 
humorous  irony  to  his  flight  from  the  field  of  battle.2  Virgil 
prays  that  he  may  live  without  glory  among  the  forests  and 
streams  he  loves.3  Tibullus4  and  Propertius5  assert  in  the 
strongest  terms  their  incapacity  for  an  active  career,  praying  for 
nothing  more  than  enjoyment  of  the  pleasures  of  love  and  song. 
Spirits  like  these  would  have  had  no  chance  of  rising  to  eminence 
amid  the  fierce  contests  of  the  Republic.  Gentle  and  diffident, 
they  needed  a  patron  to  call  out  their  powers  or  protect  their 
interests  ;  and  when,  under  the  sway  of  Augustus,  such  a  patron 
was  found,  the  rich  harvest  of  talent  that  arose  showed  how  much 
letters  had  hitherto  suffered  from  the  unsettled  state  of  the  times.6 
It  is  true  that  several  writers  of  the  preceding  period  survived  into 
this.  Men  like  Varro,  who  kept  aloof  from  the  city,  nursing  in 
retirement  a  hopeless  loyalty  to  the  past ;  men  like  Pollio  and 
Messala,  who  accepted  the  monarchy  without  compromising  their 
principles,  and  who  still  appeared  in  public  as  orators  or  jurists  ; 
these,  together  with  a  few  poets  of  the  older  school,  such  as  Furius 
Bibaculus,  continued  to  write  during  the  first  few  years  of  the 
Augustan  epoch,  but  cannot  properly  be  regarded  as  belonging  to 
it.7  They  pursued  their  own  lines  of  thought,  uninfluenced  by 
the  Empire,  except  in  so  far  as  it  forced  them  to  select  more 
trivial   themes,  or  to   use  greater   caution  in   expressing   their 

1  Tibnllus  was,  however,  a  Roman  knight. 

*  0.  ii.  7,  10.      Tecum  Philippos  et  celerem  fugam  Sensi  relicta  non  ben* 
parmula. 

*  G.  ii.  486.     Flumina  amem  silvasque  inglorius. 

4  i.  57.     Non  ego  laudari  euro  mea  Delia  :  tecum  Dummodo  rim,  quaes^ 
tegnis  inersque  vocer. 

•  Pr.  i.  6,  29.     Non  ego  sum  laudi,  non  natus  idoneus  armis. 

•  Tho  lack  of  patrons  becomes  a  standing  apology  in  later  times  for  thi 
poverty  of  literary  production. 

7  Pollio,  however,  stands  on  a  somewhat  different  footing.     In  his  cnltivmr 
tion  of  rhetoric  he  must  be  classed  with  the  imperial  writers. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  AUGUSTAN  AGE.   243 

thoughts.  But  the  great  authors  who  are  the  true  representative! 
of  Augustus';*  reign,  Virgil,  Livy,  and  Horace,  were  brought  into 
direct  contact  with  the  emperor,  and  much  of  their  inspiration 
centres  round  his  office  and  person. 

The  conqueror  of  Actium  was  welcomed  by  all  classes  with  real 
or  feigned  enthusiasm.  To  the  remnant  of  the  republican  fami* 
lies,  indeed,  he  was  an  object  partly  of  flattery,  partly  of  hatred, 
in  no  case,  probably,  of  hearty  approval  or  admiration ;  but  by 
the  literary  class,  as  by  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  he  was  hailed 
as  the  restorer  of  peace  and  good  government,  of  order  and  reli- 
gion, the  patron  of  all  that  was  best  in  literature  and  art,  the 
adopted  son  of  that  great  man  whose  name  was  already  a  mighty 
power,  and  whose  spirit  was  believed  to  watch  over  Rome  as  one 
of  her  presiding  deities.  It  is  no  wonder  if  his  opening  reign 
stamped  literature  with  new  and  imposing  features,  or  if  literature 
expressed  her  sense  of  his  protection  by  a  constant  appeal  to  his 
name. 

Augustus  has  been  the  most  fortunate  of  despots,  for  he  has 
met  with  nothing  but  praise.  A  few  harsh  spirits,  it  seems, 
"blamed  him  in  no  measured  terms  ;  but  he  repaid  them  by  a  wise 
neglect,  at  least  as  long  as  Maecenas  lived,  who  well  knew,  from 
temperament  as  well  as  experience,  the  value  of  seasonable  in- 
activity. As  it  is,  all  the  authors  that  have  come  to  us  are  pane- 
gyrists. None  seem  to  remember  his  early  days ;  all  centre  their 
thoughts  on  the  success  of  the  present  and  the  promise  of  tho 
future.  Yet  Augustus  himself  could  not  forget  those  times.  As 
chief  of  the  proscription,  as  the  betrayer  of  Cicero,  as  the  suspected 
murderer  of  the  consul  Hirtius,  as  the  pitiless  destroyer  of  Cleo- 
patra's children,  he  must  have  found  it  no  easy  task  to  act  the 
mild  ruler ;  as  a  man  of  profligate  conduct  he  must  have  found  it 
still  less  easy  to  come  forward  as  the  champion  of  decency  and 
morals.  He  was  assisted  by  the  confidence  which  all,  weary  of 
war  and  bloodshed,  were  willing  to  repose  in  him,  even  to  an  un- 
limited extent.  He  was  assisted  also  by  able  administrators, 
Maecenas  in  civil,  and  Agrippa  in  military  affairs.  But  there 
were  other  forces  making  themselves  felt  in  the  great  city.  Ona 
of  these  was  literature,  as  represented  by  the  literary  class,  con- 
sisting of  men  to  whom  letters  were  a  profession  not  a  relaxation, 
and  who  now  first  appear  prominently  in  Rome.  Augustus  saw 
the  immense  advantage  of  enlisting  these  on  his  side.  He 
could  pass  laws  through  the  senate ;  he  could  check  vice  by 
punishment ;  but  neither  his  character  nor  his  history  could  make 
him  influence  the  heart  of  the  people.  To  effect  real  reforms  persua* 
sive  voice   must  be  found  to  preach  them.     And  who  so  efucaciom 


244  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

as  the  band  of  cultured  poets  whom  he  saw  collecting  round  him  t 
These  he  deliberately  set  himself  to  win  ;  and  that  he  did  win  them, 
some  to  a  half-hearted,  others  to  an  absolute  allegiance,  is  one  of  the 
best  testimonies  to  his  enlightened  policy.  Yet  be  could  hardly 
have  effected  his  object  had  it  not  been  for  the  able  co-operation  of 
Maecenas,  whose  conciliatory  manners  well  fitted  him  to  be  the 
mend  of  literary  men.  This  astute  minister  formed  a  select  circle 
of  gifted  authors,  chiefly  poets,  whom  he  endeavoured  to  animate 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  succouring  the  state.  He  is  said  to  have 
suggested  to  Augustus  the  necessity  of  restoring  the  decayed 
grandeur  of  the  national  religion.  The  open  disregard  of  morality 
and  religion  evinced  by  the  ambitious  party-leaders  during  the 
Civil  Wars  had  brought  the  public  worship  into  contempt  and  the 
temples  into  ruin.  Augustus  determined  that  civil  order  should  once 
more  repose  upon  that  reverence  for  the  gods  which  had  made  Rome 
great.1  Accordingly,  he  repaired  or  rebuilt  many  temples,  and 
both  by  precept  and  example  strove  to  restore  the  traditional  re- 
spect for  divine  things.  But  he  must  have  experienced  a  grave 
difficulty  in  the  utter  absence  of  religious  conviction  which  had 
become  general  in  Rome.  The  authors  of  the  De  Dlvinatione  and  the 
De  Rerum  Natura  could  not  have  written  as  they  did,  without 
influencing  many  minds.  And  if  men  so  admirable  as  Cicero  and 
Lucretius  denied,  the  one  the  possibility  of  the  science  he  pro- 
fessed,2 the  other  the  doctrine  of  Providence  on  which  all  religion 
rests,  it  was  little  likely  that  ordinary  minds  should  retain  much 
belief  in  such  things.  Augustus  was  relieved  from  this  strait  by 
the  appearance  of  a  new  literary  class  in  Rome,  young  authors 
from  the  country  districts,  with  simpler  views  of  life  and  more 
enthusiasm,  of  whom  some  at  least  might  be  willing  to  conse- 
crate their  talents  to  furthering  the  sacred  interests  on  which  social 
order  depends.  The  author  who  fully  responded  to  his  appeal,  and 
probably  exceeded  his  highest  hopes,  was  Virgil;  but  Horace, 
Livy,  and  Propertius,  showed  themselves  not  unwilling  to  espouse 
ifoe  same  cause.  Never  was  power  more  ably  seconded  by  per- 
suasion ;  the  laws  of  Augustus  and  the  writings  of  Virgil,  Horace, 
and  Livy,  in  order  to  be  fully  appreciated,  must  be  considered  in 
their  connection,  political  and  religious,  with  each  other. 

The  emperor,  his  minister,  and  his  advocates,  thus  working  for 
the  same  end,  beyond  doubt  produced  some  effect.  The  Odes  of 
Horace  in  the  first  three  books,  which  are  devoted  to  politics, 
show  an  attitude  of   antagonism  and  severe  expostulation;  he 

1  Dis  te  minorem  quod  geris  imperas,  0.  iii.  6,  5. 

3  Cicero  was  Augur.     Admission  to  this  office  was  one  of  the  great  objecti 
of  his  ambition. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  CF  THE  AUGUSTAN  AGE.      245 

boldly  rebukes  vice,  and  calls  upon  the  strong  hand  to  purish 
it: 

"  Quid  tristes  querimoniae, 

Si  non  sv.pplicio  culpa  reciditurt 

Quid  leges  sine  moribus 
Vanae  proficiunt  ?  " 1 

"But  when,  some  years  later,  he  wrote  the  Carmen  Saeculare,  ind 
the  fourth  book  of  the  Odes,  his  voice  is  raised  in  a  paean  of 
unmixed  triumph.  "The  pure  home  is  polluted  by  no  un- 
chastity;  law  and  morality  have  destroyed  crime;  matrons  are 
blessed  with  children  resembling  their  fathers ;  already  faith  and 
peace,  honour  and  maiden  modesty,  have  returned  to  us,"  &c.2 
This  can  hardly  be  mere  exaggeration,  though  no  doubt  the 
picture  is  coloured,  since  the  popularity  of  Ovid's  Art  of  Love, 
even  during  Horace's  lifetime,  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  profligacy 
did  not  lack  its  votaries. 

To  the  student  of  human  development  the  most  interesting 
feature  in  this  attempted  reform  of  manners  is  the  universal  ten- 
dency to  connect  it  with  the  deification  of  the  emperor.  It  was 
in  vain  that  Augustus  claimed  to  return  to  the  old  paths ;  every- 
where he  met  this  new  apotheosis  of  himself  crowning  the  re- 
stored edifice  of  belief ;  so  impossible  was  it  for  him,  as  for  others, 
to  reconstruct  the  past.  As  the  guardian  of  the  people's  material 
welfare,  he  became,  despite  of  himself,  the  people's  chief  divinity. 
Prom  the  time  that  Virgil's  gratitude  expressed  itself  in  the  first 
Eclogue — 

"  Namque  erit  ille  milii  semper  dens  :  illius  aram 
Saepe  tener  nostris  ab  ovilibus  imbuet  agnus,"3 

the  emperor  was  marked  out  for  this  new  form  of  adulation,  and 
succeeding  poets  only  added  to  what  Virgil  had  begun.  Even  in 
his  Epistles,  where  the  conventionalities  of  mythology  are  never 
employed,  Horace  compares  him  with  the  greatest  deities,  and 
declares  that  altars  are  raised  to  his  name,  while  all  confess  him 
to  be  the  greatest  person  that  has  been  or  will  be  among  man- 
kind.4 Propertius  and  Ovid5  accept  this  language  as  proper  and 
natural,  and  the  striking  rapidity  with  which  it  established  itself 
in  universal  use  is  one  of  the  most  speaking  signs  of  the  growing 
degeneracy.  Augustus  himself  was  not  cajoled,  Tiberius  stiii 
less,  but  Caius  and  his  successors  were ;  even  Vespasian,  when 
dying,  in  jest  01  earnest  used  the  words  "  ut  puto  deus  fio."     Al 

1  Od.  iii.  24,  33.  *  0.  S.  57;  0.  ir.  5,  21, 

»  Eel.  i.  7.  4  Ep.  ii.  1,  16. 

•  Prop.  iii.  4,  1 ;  Ovid  Tr.  iii.  1,  78. 


246  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  satirist  says,  "  Power  will  believe  anything  that  Flattery  sag 
gests."1 

Side  by  side  with  this  religious  cultus  of  the  emperor  was  t 
willingness  to  surren  ler  all  political  power  into  his  hands.  Littlf. 
I  ?  little  he  engrossed  all  the  offices  of  state,  and  so  completely 
i  1  proscription  and  indulgence  in  turn  done  their  work  thfifc 
i  ,ne  were  found  bold  enough  to  resist  these  insidious  encroach- 
ments.2 The  privileges  of  the  senate  and  the  rights  of  the  people 
were  gradually  abridged ;  and  that  pernicious  policy  so  congenial 
to  a  despotism,  of  satisfying  the  appetite  for  food  and  amusement 
and  so  keeping  the  people  quiet,  was  inaugurated  early  in  his 
reign,  and  set  moving  in  the  lines  which  it  long  afterwards 
followed.  Freedom  of  debate,  which  had  been  universal  in  the 
senate,  was  curtailed  by  the  knowledge  that,  as  often  as  not,  the 
business  was  being  decided  by  a  secret  council  held  within  the 
palace.  Eloquence  could  not  waste  itself  in  abstract  discussions ; 
and  even  if  it  attempted  to  speak,  the  growing  servility  made  it 
perilous  to  utter  plain  truths.  Thus  the  sphere  of  public  speak- 
ing was  greatly  restricted.  Those  who  had  poured  forth  before 
the  assembled  people  the  torrents  of  their  oratory  were  now  by 
what  Tacitus  so  graphically  calls  the  jxwification  of  eloquence3 
confined  to  the  tamer  arena  of  the  civil  law  courts.  All  those 
who  felt  that  without  a  practical  object  eloquence  cannot  exist, 
had  to  resign  themselves  to  silence.  Others  less  serious-minded 
found  a  sphere  for  their  natural  gift  of  speech  in  the  halls  of 
the  rhetoricians.  It  is  pitiable  to  see  men  like  Pollio  content  to 
give  up  all  higher  aims,  and  for  want  of  healthier  exercise  waste 
their  powers  in  noisy  declamation. 

History,  if  treated  with  dignity  and  candour,  was  almost  as 
dangerous  a  field  as  eloquence.  Hence  we  find  that  few  were 
bold  enough  to  cultivate  it.-  Livy,  indeed,  succeeded  in  produc- 
ing a  great  masterwork,  which,  while  it  did  not  conceal  his 
Pompeian  sympathies,  entered  so  heartily  into  the  emperor's 
gsneral  point  of  view  as  to  receive  high  praise  at  his  hands.  But 
]  .ivy  was  not  a  politician.     Those  who  had  been  politicians  found 

1  This  subject  is  discussed  in  an  essay  by  Gaston  Boissier  in  the  first 
volume  of  La  Religion  romaine  d"Atiguste  aux  Antonins. 

2  Tax.  Ann.  i.  2,  Ubi  militem  d«.nis,  populum  annona,  cunctos  duicedine 
otii  pellexit,  insurgere  paulatim,  munia  senatus  magistratuum  legura  in  so 
tiahere,  nullo  adversante,  cum  ferocissimi  per  acies  aut  proscription  cecidig- 
sent,  ceteri  nobilium,  quantc  quis  servitio  promptior,  opibus  et  honoribm 
extol  lorentur,  ac  no  vis  ex  rebus  aucti  tuta  et  praesentia  quam  Vetera  et  peri- 
culosa  mallent. 

3  Cum  divus  Augustus  sicut  caetera  eloquentiam  p?  zaverat. — De  Camm 
Uorr.  Eloq. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  AUGUSTAN  AGE.     247 

it  unwise  to  provoke  the  jealc  usy  of  Augustus  by  expressing  ti  eii 
sentiments.  Hence  neither  Messala  nor  Pollio  continued  theii 
works  on  contemporary  history;  a  deprivation  which  we  cannot 
but  strongly  feel,  as  we  have  few  trustworthy  accounts  of  those 
times. 

In  law  Augustus  trenched  less  on  the  independent  thought  of 
the  jurists,  but  at  the  same  time  was  better  able  to  put  forth  his 
prerogative  when  occasion  was  really  needed.  His  method  of 
accrediting  the  Responsa  Prudentum,  by  permitting  only  those 
who  had  his  authorisation  to  exercise  that  profession,  was  an  able 
stroke  of  policy.1  It  gave  the  profession  as  it  were  the  safeguard 
of  a  diploma,  and  veiled  an  act  of  despotic  power  under  the  form 
of  a  greater  respect  for  law.  The  science  of  jurisprudence  was 
ably  represented  by  various  professors,  but  it  became  more  and 
more  involved  and  difficult,  and  frequently  draws  forth  from  the 
satirists  abuse  of  its  quibbling  intricacies. 

Poetry  was  the  form  of  literature  to  which  most  favour  was 
shown,  and  which  nourished  more  vigorously  than  any  other. 
The  pastoral,  and  the  metrical  epistle,  were  now  first  introduced. 
The  former  was  based  on  the  Theocritean  idvll,  but  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  well  adapted  to  Eoman  treatment ;  the  latter  wan  of 
two  kinds ;  it  was  either  a  real  communication  on  some  subject  of 
mutual  interest,  as  that  of  Horace,  or  else  an  imaginary  expression 
of  feeling  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  mythical  hero  or  heroine,  of 
which  the  most  brilliant  examples  are  those  of  Ovid.  Philosophy 
and  science  flourished  to  a  considerable  extent.  The  desire  to 
find  some  compensation  for  the  loss  of  all  outward  activity  led 
many  to  strive  after  the  ideal  of  conduct  presented  by  stoicism  : 
and  nearly  all  earnest  minds  were  more  or  less  affected  by  this 
great  system.  Livy  is  reported  to  have  been  an  eloquent  ex- 
pounder of  philosophical  doctrines,  and  most  of  the  poets  show  a 
strong  leaning  to  its  study.  Augustus  wrote  adhortat tones,  and 
beyond  doubt  his  example  was  often  followed.  The  speculative 
and  therefore  inoffensive  topics  of  natural  science  were  neither 
encouraged  nor  neglected  by  Augustus ;  Vitruvius,  the  architect, 
having  showed  some  capacity  for  engineering,  was  kindly  leeeived 
by  him,  but  his  treatise,  admirable  as  it  is,  does  not  seem  to  have 
secured  him  any  special  favour.  It  was  such  writers  as  he  thought 
might  be  made  instruments  of  his  policy  that  Augustus  set  him- 
self specially  to  encourage  by  every  means  in  his  power.  Tht 
result  of  this  patronage  was  an  increasing  di verger  ce  from  the 

1  Pompon  Dig.  I.  2.  2.47  (quoted  by  Tfcunvl).  Primus  Divus  Augustus,  ai 
rriior  iuris  aucl'/ritas  Jtaberetur,  constituit  ut  ex  auctcritate  eius  w»)nm- 
dexent. 


248  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

popular  taste  on  the  part  of  the  poets,  who  now  aspired  OTily  to 
please  the  great  and  learned.1  It  is  pleasing,  however,  to  observe 
the  entire  absence  of  ill-feeling  that  reigned  in  this  society  of  beaux 
esprits  with  regard  to  one  another.  Each  held  his  own  special 
position,  but  all  were  equally  welcome  at  the  great  man's  reunions, 
equally  acceptable  to  one  another;  and  each  criticised  the  other's 
works  with  the  freedom  of  a  literary  freemasonry.2  This  select 
cultivation  of  poetry  reacted  unfavourably  on  the  thought  and 
imagination,  though  it  greatly  elevated  the  style  of  those  that 
employed  it.  The  extreme  delicacy  of  the  artistic  product  shows 
it  to  have  been  due  to  some  extent  to  careful  nursing,  and  its 
almost  immediate  collapse  confirms  this  conclusion. 

While  Augustus,  through  Maecenas,  united  men  eminent  for 
taste  and  culture  in  a  literary  coterie,  Messala,  who  had  never 
joined  the  successful  side,  had  a  similar  but  smaller  following, 
among  whom  was  numbered  the  poet  Tibullus.  At  the  tables  of 
these  great  men  met  on  terms  of  equal  companionship  their  own 
friends  and  the  authors  whom  they  favoured  or  assisted.  For 
though  the  provincial  poet  could  not,  like  those  of  the  last  age, 
assume  the  air  of  one  who  owned  no  superior,  but  was  bound  by 
ties  of  obligation  as  well  as  gratitude  to  his  patron,  still  the  works 
of  Horace  and  Virgil  abundantly  prove  that  servile  compliment 
was  neither  expected  by  him  nor  would  have  been  given  by  them, 
as  it  was  too  frequently  in  the  later  period  to  the  lasting  injury 
of  literature  as  well  as  of  character.  The  great  patrons  were 
themselves  men  of  letters.  Augustus  was  a  severe  critic  of  style, 
and,  when  he  wrote  or  spoke,  did  not  fall  below  the  high  standard 
he  exacted  from  others.  Suetonius  and  Tacitus  bear  witness  to 
the  clearness  and  dignity  of  his  public  speaking.3 

Maecenas,  as  we  shall  notice  immediately,  was,  or  affected  to 
be,  a  writer  of  some  pretension ;  and  Messala's  eloquence  was  of 
so  high  an  order,  that  had  he  been  allowed  the  opportunity  of 
freely  using  it,  he  would  beyond  doubt  have  been  numbered 
among  the  great  orators  of  Rome. 

Such  was  the  state  of  thought  and  politics  which  surrounded 
and  brought  out  the  celebrated  writers  whom  we  shall  now 
proceed  to  criticise,  a  task  the  more  delightful,  as  these  writers 
are  household  words,  and  their  best  works  familiar  from  child- 

1  Odi  pi'ofanum  vulgus  et  arceo  (Hor.  Od.  iii.  1,1),  Parca  dedit  malig/ium 
vperncra  valgus  (id.  ii.  16,  39),  satis  est  equitem  mihi  plaudere  {&&li  1.  x.  77), 
nul  often.     So  Ovid,  Fast.  I.  exordium. 

2  See  the  pleasing  description  in  the  ninth  Satire  of  Horace's  firfl 
book. 

8  Suet.  Aug.  84.     Tac.  An.  xiii.  3. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  AUGUSTAN  AGE.   249 

hood  to  all  who  have  been  educated  to  love  the  beautiful  in 
literature. 

The  excellent  literary  judgment  shown  by  Augustus  contributed 
to  encourage  a  high  standard  of  taste  among  the  rival  authors. 
How  weighty  the  sovereign's  influence  was  may  be  gathered  from 
the  extravagancies  into  which  the  JSTeronian  and  Flavian  authors 
fell  through  anxiety  to  please  monarchs  of  corrupt  taste.  The 
advantages  of  patronage  to  literature  are  immense ;  but  it  is  indis- 
pensable that  the  patron  should  himself  be  great.  The  people  were 
now  so  totally  without  literary  culture  that  a  popular  poet  would 
necessarily  have  been  a  bad  poet ;  careful  writers  turned  from 
them  to  the  few  who  could  appreciate  what  was  excellent.  Yet 
Maecenas,  so  judicious  as  a  patron,  fell  as  an  author  into  the 
very  faults  he  blamed.  During  the  years  he  held  office  (30-8 
b.c.)  he  devoted  some  fragments  of  his  busy  days  to  composing 
in  prose  and  verse  writings  which  Augustus  spoke  of  as  "  fxvpo- 
/Spe^et?  cincinnL"  "curled  locks  reeking  with  ointment."  We 
hear  of  a  treatise  called  Prometheus,  certain  dialogues,  among  them 
a  Symposium,  in  which  Messala,  Virgil,  and  Horace  were  intro- 
duced ;  and  Horace  implies  that  he  had  planned  a  prose  history 
of  Augustus's  wars.1  He  did  not  shrink  from  attempting,  and 
what  was  worse,  publishing,  poetry,  which  bore  imprinted  on  it 
}he  characteristics  of  his  effeminate  mind.  Seneca  quotes  one 
passage2  from  which  we  may  form  an  estimate  of  his  level  as  a 
versifier.  But,  however  feeble  in  execution,  he  was  a  skilful 
adviser  of  others.  The  wisdom  of  his  counsels  to  Augustus  is 
known ;  those  he  offered  to  "Virgil  were  equally  sound.  It  was 
he  who  suggested  the  plan  of  the  Gcorgics,  and  the  poet  acknow- 
ledges his  debt  for  a  great  idea  in  the  words  "  Nil  altum  sine  te 
meas  inchoat"  He  was  at  once  cautious  and  liberal  in  bestowing 
his  friendship.  The  length  of  time  that  elapsed  between  his 
first  reception  of  Horace  and  his  final  enrolment  of  the  poet 
among  his  intimates,  shows  that  he  was  not  hasty  in  awarding 
patronage.  And  the  difficulty  which  Propertius  encountered  in 
gaining  a  footing  among  his  circle  proves  that  even  great  talent 
was  not  by  itself  a  sufficient  claim  on  his  regard.  As  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  mention  him  again,  we  shall  pass  him  over  here, 
and  conclude  the  chapter  with  a  short  account  of  the  earliest 

1  Tuque  peclrstribus  Dices  Mstoriis  praclia  Cacsaris  Maecenas  melius 
dudaqae  per  vias  Begum  coUa  minacium  (Oil.  ii.  12,  9). 

2  Ep.  101,  11.  1  quote  it  to  show  what  his  sentiments  were  on  a  point 
that  touched  a  Roman  nearly,  the  fear  of  death  :  Dcbilcm  facUo  manu 
dcbilcm  pede  coxa :  Tuber  asirue  gibberum,  lubricos  quate  denies :  Vita  dum 
supcrcst,  icne  est :  heme  mild  vol  acuta  Si  sedcam  cruce  sustine. 


250  HXSTOKY  OF  KOMAN  LiTEKATURE. 

Augustan  poet  whose  name  has  come  to  us,  L.  Variub  Kufus 
(64  b.c-9  A.D.),  the  friend  of  Virgil,  who  introduced  both  him 
and  Horace  to  Maecenas's  notice,  and  who  was  for  some  years 
accounted  the  chief  epic  poet  of  Rome.1 

Horn  in  Cisalpine  Gaul,  Varius  was,  like  all  his  countrymen, 
warmly  attached  to  Caesar's  cause,  and  seems  to  have  made  his 
reputation  by  an  epic  on  Caesar's  death.2  Of  this  poem  we  have 
scattered  notices  implying  that  it  was  held  in  high  esteem,  and  a 
fragment  is  preserved  by  Macrobius,3  which  it  is  worth  while  to 
quote: 

"  Ceu  canis  umbrosam  lustrans  Gortynia  vallem, 
Si  veteris  potuit  cervae  coinprendere  lustra, 
Saevit  in  absenteni,  et  circum  vestigia  lustrans 
Aethera  per  nitidum  tenues  sectatur  odores; 
Non  armies  ilium  medii  non  ardua  tentant, 
Perdita  nee  serae  meininii  decedere  noctL" 

The  rhythm  here  is  midway  between  Lucretius  and  Virgil ;  the 
inartistic  repetition  of  lustrans  together  with  the  use  immediately 
before  of  the  cognate  word  lustra  point  to  a  certain  carelessness 
in  composition ;  the  employment  of  epithets  is  less  delicate  than 
in  Horace  and  Virgil;  the  last  line  is  familiar  from  its  introduc- 
tion unaltered,  except  by  an  improved  punctuation,  into  the 
Ecluyues*  Two  fine  verses,  slightly  modified  in  expression  but 
not  in  rhythm,  have  found  their  way  into  the  Aeneid.5 

"  Vendidit  hie  Latiurn  populis,  agrosque  Quiritum 
Eripuit:  fixit  leges  pretio  atque  relixit." 

Besides  this  poem  he  wrote  another  on  the  praises  of  Augustus, 
for  which  Horace  testifies  his  fitness  while  excusing  himself  from 
approaching  the  same  subject.6  From  this  were  taken  two  lines7 
appropriated  by  Horace,  and  instanced  as  models  of  graceful 
flattery : 

"  Tene  magis  salvum  populus  velit,  an  populum  tu, 

Servet  in  ambiguum  qui  consulit  et  tibi  et  Urbi, 

Iupiter." 

After  the  pre-eminence  of  Virgil  began  to  be  recognised,  Variui 
seems  to  have  deserted  epic  poetry  and  turned  his  attention  to 
tragedy,  and  that  with  so  much  success,  that  his  great  work,  the 
Thyestesy  was  that  on  which  his  fame  with  posterity  chiefly  rested 
This  drama,  considered  by  Quintilian8  equal  to  any  of  the  Greek 

1  He  was  so  when  Horace  wrote  his  first  book  of  Satires  (x.  51).  Forte 
epos  accr  ut  nemo  Varius  ducit. 

1  Often  quoted  as  the  poem  de  Morte.  8  Sat.  vi.  2. 

4  Eel.  viii.  5,  $8,  procumbit  in  tUva  Perdita,  nee  serae,  &c.  Observe  how 
Virgil  improves  while  he  borrows. 

*  Aen.  vi.  621,  2.  •  Od.  i.  61. 

9  So  says  the  Schol.  on  Hor.  Ep.  I.  xvi.  25.  8  Y.  i.  98. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  AUGUSTAN  AGE.      251 

masterpieces,  was  performed  at  the  games  after  the  battle  ol 
Actium ;  but  it  was  probably  better  adapted  for  declaiming  than 
acting.  Its  high  reputation  makes  its  loss  a  serious  one — not  for 
its  intrinsic  value,  but  for  its  position  in  the  history  of  literature 
as  the  first  of  those  rhetorical  dramas  of  which  we  possess  examples 
in  those  of  Seneca,  and  which,  with  certain  modifications,  have  been 
cultivated  in  our  own  century  with  so  much  spirit  by  Byron, 
Shelley,  and  Swinburne.  The  main  interest  which  Yarius  has  for 
us  arises  from  his  having,  in  company  with  Plotius  Tucca,  edited 
the  Aeneid  after  Virgil's  death.  The  intimate  friendship  that 
existed  between  the  two  poets  enabled  Varius  to  give  to  the  world 
many  particulars  as  to  Virgil's  character  and  habits  of  life ;  this 
biographical  sketch,  which  formed  probably  an  introduction  to  the 
volume,  is  referred  to  by  Quintilian1  and  others. 

A  poet  of  inferior  note,  but  perhaps  handed  down  to  unenviable 
immortality  in  the  line  of  Virgil — ■ 

"  Argutos  inter  strepere  Anser  olores,"3 

was  Anser.  He  was  a  partisan  of  Antony,  and  from  this  fact,  to- 
gether with  the  possible  allusion  in  the  Eclogues,  later  grammarians 
discovered  that  he  was,  like  Bavius  and  Maevius,  unhappy  bards 
only  known  from  the  contemptuous  allusions  of  their  betters,3  an 
obtrectator  Virgilii.  As  such  he  of  course  called  down  the  vials 
of  their  wrath.  But  there  is  no  real  evidence  for  the  charge.  He 
seems  to  have  been  an  unambitious  poet,  who  indulged  light  and 
wanton  themes.4  Aemilius  Macer,  of  Verona,  who  died  16  B.C., 
was  certainly  a  friend  of  Virgil,  and  has  been  supposed  to  be  the 
Mopsus  of  the  Eclogues.  He  devoted  his  very  moderate  talents 
to  minute  and  technical  didactic  poems.  The  Omithogonias  of 
.N~icander  was  imitated  or  translated  by  him,  as  well  as  the  GfypiaKa 
of  the  same  writer.  Ovid  mentions  having  been  frequently  present 
at  the  poet's  recitations,  but  as  he  does  not  praise  them,5  we  way 
infer  that  Macer  had  no  great  name  among  his  contemporaries,  but 
owed  his  consideration  and  perhaps  his  literary  impulse  to  his 
friendship  for  Virgil. 

1  X.  3.  8.  2  Ec.  ta  **.  *  Viig.  Ec.  iii.  90  ;  Hor.  Epod.  x. 

4  **  China  procacior,"  Ov.  Trist.  ii.  435. 

*  Saepe  suas  volucrcs  Icq'.t  mihi  grandior  aevo,  Quacque  nccet  serpens,  qual 
iuvet  herba  Macer.    Trirt,  ir.  10,  43.     Quint,  (x.  1,  87)  calls  him  hwnxis. 


CHAPTER  H 

Virgil  (70-19  B.a). 

Publius  Virgilitjs,  or  more  correctly,  Vergilius1  Maro,  was  Twin 
in  the  village  or  district2  of  Andes,  near  Mantua,  sixteen  years 
after  the  birth  of  Catullus,  of  whom  he  was  a  compatriot  as  well 
as  an  admirer.3  As  the  citizenship  was  not  conferred  on  Gallia 
Transpadana,  of  which  Mantua  was  a  chief  town,  until  49  B.C., 
when  Virgil  was  nearly  twenty-ene  years  old,  he  had  no  claim  by 
birth  to  the  name  of  Roman.  And  yet  so  intense  is  the  patriot- 
ism which  animates  his  poems,  that  no  other  Roman  writer, 
patrician  or  plebeian,  surpasses  or  even  equals  it  in  depth  of  feel- 
ing. It  is  one  proof  out  of  many  how  completely  the  power  of 
Rome  satisfied  the  desire  of  the  Italians  for  a  great  common  head 
whom  they  might  reverence  as  the  heaven-appointed  representa- 
tive of  their  race.  And  it  leads  us  to  reflect  on  the  narrow  pride 
of  the  great  city  in  not  earlier  extending  her  full  franchise  to  all 
those  gallant  tribes  who  fought  so  well  for  her,  and  who  at  last 
extorted  their  demand  with  grievous  loss  to  themselves  as  to  her, 
by  the  harsh  argument  of  the  sword.  To  return  to  VirgiL  We 
learn  nothing  from  his  own  works  as  to  his  early  life  and  parentage. 
Our  chief  authority  is  Donatus.  His  father,  Maro,  was  in  humble 
circumstances ;  according  to  some  he  followed  the  trade  of  a  potter. 
But  as  he  farmed  his  own  little  estate,  he  must  have  been  far 
removed  from  indigence,  and  we  know  that  he  was  able  to  give 
his  illustrious  son  the  best  education  the  time  afforded.  Trained 
in  the  simple  virtues  of  the  country,  Virgil,  like  Horace,  never 
lost  his  admiration  for  the  stern  and  almost  Spartan  ideal  of  life 
which  he  had  there  witnessed,  and  which  the  levity  of  the  capital 
only  placed  in  stronger  relief.  After  attending  school  for  some 
years  at  Cremona,  he  assumed  at  sixteen  the  manly  gown,  on  the 
very  day  to  which  tradition  assigns  the  death  of  the  poet  Lucretius. 

1  See  Sellar's  Virgil,  p.  107. 

*  Pagus  does  not  mean  merely  the  village,  but  rather  tho  village  with  5ti 
surroundings  as  defined  by  the  government  survey,  something  like  our  parish, 

*  Mantua  vae  miserae  nimium  vidua  Cremonae,  Eel.  9.  27. 


LIFE  0*  VIRGIL.  253 

Some  time  latoi'  (53  rc),  we  find  him  at  Eome  studying  rhetoric 
under  Epidius,  and  soon  afterwards  philosophy  nnder  Siro  the 
Epicurean.  The  recent  publication  of  Lucretius's  poem  must  have 
invested  Siro's  teaching  with  new  attractiveness  in  the  eyes  of  a 
young  author,  conscious  of  genius,  but  as  yet  self-distrustful,  and 
willing  to  humble  his  mind  before  the  "temple  of  speculative 
truth."  The  short  piece,  written  at  this  date,  and  showing  hit 
state  of  feeling,  deserves  to  be  quoted  : — 

t:  Ite  hinc  inanes  ite  rhetorum  ampullae  •  •  . 
Scliolasticorum  natio  madens  pmgui  :  .  •  • 
Tuque  o  mearum  cura,  Sexte,  cm-arum 
Vale  Sabine  :  iam  valete  formosi. 
Nos  ad  beatos  vela  mittimus  portus 
Magni  petentes  docta  dicta  Sironis, 
Vitamque  ab  omni  vindicabimus  cura. 
Ite  hinc  Camenae  .  .  . 
Dulces  Camenae,  nam  (fatebimur  verum) 
Dulces  fuistis  :  et  tamen  meas  chartas 
Revisitote,  sed  pudenter  et  varo." 

These  few  lines  are  very  interesting,  first,  as  enabling  us  to  trace 
the  poetic  influence  of  Catullus,  whose  style  they  greatly  resemble, 
though  their  moral  tone  is  far  more  serious ;  secondly,  as  showing 
us  that  Virgil  was  in  aristocratic  company,  the  names  mentioned, 
and  the  epithet  formosi,  by  which  the  young  nobles  designated 
themselves,  after  the  Greek  /caXot,  KakoKoyadoi,  indicating  as  much ; 
and  thirdly,  as  evincing  a  serious  desire  to  embrace  philosophy  for 
his  guide  in  life,  after  a  conflict  with  himself  as  to  whether  he 
should  give  up  writing  poetry,  and  a  final  resolution  to  indulge  his 
natural  taste  "seldom  and  without  licentiousness."  We  can  hardly 
err  in  tracing  this  awakened  earnestness  and  its  direction  upon  the 
Epicurean  system  to  his  first  acquaintance  with  the  poem  of  Lucre- 
tius. The  enthusiasm  for  philosophy  expressed  in  these  lines 
remained  with  Virgil  all  his  life.  Poet  as  he  was,  he  would  at 
once  be  drawn  to  the  theory  of  the  universe  so  eloquently  pro- 
pounded by  a  brother-poet.  And  in  all  his  works  a  deep  study  of 
Lucretius  is  evidenced  not  only  by  imitations  of  his  language,  but 
by  frequent  adoption  of  his  views  and  a  recognition  of  his  position 
as  the  loftiest  attainable  by  man.1  The  young  Eomans  at  this 
time  took  an  eager  interest  in  the  problems  which  philosophy 
presents,  and  most  literary  men  began  their  career  as  disciples  of 
the  Lucretian  theory.2  Experience  of  life,  however,  generally  drew 
them  away  from  it.     Horace  professed  to  have  been  converted  by 

1  In  the  celebrated  passage  Felix  qui  potuit,  &c. 

*  Horace  certainly  did,  and  that  in  a  more  thorough  manner  than  Virgil. 
See  his  remark  at  the  end  of  the  Iter  ad  Brundisium,  and  other  well-known 
passages. 


254  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITlJRATURfc. 

a  thunder-clap  in  a  clear  sky ;  this  was  no  doubt  irony,  but  it  it 
clear  that  in  his  epistles  he  has  ceased  to  be  an  Epicurean.  Virgil, 
who  in  the  Eclogues  and  Georgics  seems  to  sigh  with  regret  aftei 
the  doctrines  he  fears  to  accept,  comes  forward  in  the  Aeneid  aa 
the  staunch  adherent  of  the  national  creed,  and  where  he  acts  the 
philosopher  at  all,  assumes  the  garb  of  a  Stoic,  not  an  Epicurean. 
But  he  still  desired  to  spend  his  later  days  in  the  pursuit  of  truth; 
it  seemed  as  if  he  accepted  almost  with  resignation  the  labours  of 
a  poet,  and  looked  forward  to  philosophy  as  his  recompense  and 
the  goal  of  his  constant  desire.1  We  can  thus  trace  a  continuity 
of  interest  in  the  deepest  problems,  lasting  throughout  his  life, 
and,  by  the  sacrifice  of  one  side  of  his  affections,  tinging  his  mind 
with  that  subtle  melancholy  so  difficult  to  analyse,  but  so  irresis- 
tible in  its  charm.  The  craving  to  rest  the  mind  upon  a  solid 
ground  of  truth,  which  was  kept  in  abeyance  under  the  Republic 
by  the  incessant  calls  of  active  life,  now  asserted  itself  in  all 
earnest  characters,  and  would  not  be  content  without  satisfaction. 
Virgil  was  cut  off  before  his  philosophical  development  was  com- 
pleted, and  therefore  it  is  useless  to  speculate  what  views  he  would 
have  finally  espoused.  But  it  is  clear  that  his  tone  of  mind  was 
in  reality  artistic  and  not  philosophical.  Systems  of  thought 
could  never  have  had  real  power  over  him  except  in  so  far  as  they 
modified  his  conceptions  of  ideal  beauty  :  he  possessed  neither  the 
grasp  nor  the  boldness  requisite  for  speculative  thought ;  all  ideas 
as  they  were  presented  to  his  mind  were  unconsciously  transfused 
into  materials  for  effects  of  art.  And  the  little  poem  which  has 
led  to  these  remarks  seems  to  enshrine  in  the  outpourings  of  an 
early  enthusiasm  the  secret  of  that  divided  allegiance  between  his 
real  and  his  fancied  aptitudes,  which  impels  the  poet's  spirit,  while 
it  hears  the  discord,  to  win  its  way  into  the  inner  and  more  perfect 
harmony. 

After  the  battle  of  Philippi  (42  b.c.)  he  appears  settled  in  his 
native  district  cultivating  pastoral  poetry,  but  threatened  with 
ejection  by  the  agrarian  assignations  of  the  Triumvirs.  Pollio, 
who  was  then  Prefect  of  Gallia  Transpadana,  interceded  with 
Octavian,  and  Virgil  was  allowed  to  retain  his  property.  But  on 
a  second  division  among  the  veterans,  Varus  having  now  succeeded 
to  Pollio,  he  was  not  so  fortunate,  but  with  his  father  was  obliged 
to  fly  for  his  life,  an  event  which  he  has  alluded  to  in  the  first  and 
ninth  Eclogues.     The  fugitives  took  refuge  in  a  villa  that  had 

1  Contrast  the  way  in  which  he  speaks  of  poetical  studies,  G.  iv.  564, 
me  dulcis  alehat  Parthenope  studiis  fiorentem  ignobilis  oti,  with  the  language 
of  his  letter  to  Augustus  (Macrob.  i  24,  11),  cum  alia  guoque  studia  ad  id 
•pus  muUoque potiora  {i.e.  philosophy)  impcrtiar. 


LIFE  OF  VIRGIL.  255 

belonged  to  Siro,1  and  from  this  retieat,  by  tlie  advice  of  his  friend 
Cornelius  G alius,  he  removed  to  Rome,  where,  37  B.C.,  he  published 
bis  Eclogues.  These  at  once  raised  him  to  eminence  as  the  equal 
of  Varius,  though  in  a  different  department;  but  even  beforo  their 
publication  he  had  established  himself  as  an  honoured  member  of 
Maecenas's  circle.2  The  liberality  of  Augustus  and  his  own  thrift 
enabled  him  to  live  in  opulence,  and  leave  at  his  death  a  very 
considerable  fortune.  Among  other  estates  he  possessed  one  in 
Campania,  at  or  near  Naples,  which  from  its  healthfulness  and 
beauty  continued  till  his  death  to  be  his  favourite  dwelling-place. 
It  was  there  that  he  wrote  the  Georgics,  and  there  that  his  bones 
were  laid,  and  his  tomb  made  the  object  of  affectionate  and  even 
religious  veneration.  He  is  not  known  to  have  undertaken  more 
than  one  voyage  out  of  Italy;  but  that  contemplated  in  the  third 
Ode  of  Horace  may  have  been  carried  out,  as  Prof.  Sellar  suggests, 
for  the  sake  of  informing  himself  by  personal  observation  about 
the  localities  of  the  AeneM;  for  it  seems  unlikely  that  the  accurate 
descriptions  of  Book  ILL  could  have  been  written  without  some 
such  direct  knowledge.  The  rest  of  his  life  presents  no  event 
worthy  of  record.  It  was  given  wholly  to  the  cultivation  of  his 
art,  except  in  so  far  as  he  was  taken  up  with  scientific  and  anti- 
quarian studies,  which  he  felt  to  be  effectual  in  elevating  his 
thought  and  deepening  his  grasp  of  a  great  subject.3  The  Georgics 
were  composed  at  the  instance  of  Maecenas  during  the  seven  years 
37-30  B.C.,  and  read  before  Augustus  the  following  year.  The 
Aeneid  was  written  during  the  remaining  years  of  his  life,  but  was 
left  unfinished,  the  poet  having  designed  to  give  three  more  years 
to  its  elaboration.  As  is  well  known,  it  was  saved  from  destruction 
and  given  to  the  world  by  the  emperor's  command,  contrary  to  the 
poet's  dying  wish  and  the  express  injunctions  of  his  will.  He 
died  at  Brundisium  (19  b.c.)  at  the  comparatively  early  age  of  51, 
of  an  illness  contracted  at  Megara,  and  aggravated  by  a  too  hurried 
return.  The  tour  on  which  he  had  started  was  undertaken  from 
a  desire  to  see  for  himself  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  which  he  had 
made  Aeneas  visit.  Such  was  the  life  and  such  the  premature 
death  of  the  greatest  of  Roman  bards. 

Even  those  who  have  judged  the  poems  of  Virgil  most  unfavour- 
ably speak  of  his  character  in  terms  of  warmest  praise.     He  was 

1  This  is  alluded  to  in  a  little  poem  (Catal.  10):  "Villula  quae,  Sironiserat 
et  pauper  agelle,  Verum  illi  domino  tu  quoque  divitiae :  Me  tibi,  et  has  una 
mecum  et  quos  semper  amavi.  .  .  .  Commendo,  in  primisque  patrem;  tu  nunc 
eris  illi  Mantua  quod  fuerat,  quodque  Cremona  prius."  We  observe  tn« 
growing  peculiarities  of  Virgil's  style. 

•  See  Hor.  S.  L5  and  10.  *  Alacrob.  i.  24.     St*  urte,  p.  i, 


256  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

gentle,  innocent,  modest,  and  of  a  singular  sweetness  of  disposition, 
which  inspired  affection  even  where  it  was  not  returned,  and  in 
men  who  rarely  showed  it.1  At  the  same  time  he  is  described  aa 
silent  and  even  awkward  in  society,  a  trait  which  Dante  may  have 
remembered  when  himself  taunted  with  the  same  deficiency.  Ilia 
nature  was  pre-eminently  a  religious  one.  Dissatisfied  with  his 
own  excellence,  filled  with  a  deep  sense  of  the  unapproachable 
ideal,  he  reverenced  the  ancient  faith  and  the  opinions  of  those 
who  had  expounded  it.  This  habit  of  mind  led  him  to  underrate 
his  own  poetical  genius  and  to  attach  too  great  weight  to  the 
precedents  and  judgment  of  others.  He  seems  to  have  thought 
no  writer  so  common-place  as  not  to  yield  some  thought  that  ho 
might  make  his  own;  and,  like  Milton,  he  loves  to  pay  the  tribute 
of  a  passing  allusion  to  some  brother  poet,  whose  character  he 
valued,  or  whose  talent  his  ready  sympathy  understood.  In  an  age 
when  licentious  writing,  at  least  in  youth,  was  the  rule  and 
required  no  apology,  Virgil's  early  poems  are  conspicuous  by  its 
almost  total  absence;  while  the  Georgics  and  Aeneid  maintain  a 
standard  of  lofty  purity  to  which  nothing  in  Latin,  and  few  work3 
in  any  literature,  approach.  His  flattery  of  Augustus  has  been 
censured  aa  a  fault;  but  up  to  a  certain  point  it  was  probably 
quite  sincere.  His  early  intimacy  with  Varius,  the  Ca3sarian  poet, 
and  possibly  the  general  feeling  among  his  fellow  provincials,  may 
have  attracted  him  from  the  first  to  Caesar's  name;  his  disposition, 
deeply  affected  by  power  or  greatness,  naturally  inclined  him  to 
show  loyalty  to  a  person;  and  the  spell  of  success  when  won  on 
such  a  scale  as  that  of  Augustus  doubtless  wrought  upon  his 
poetical  genius.  Still,  no  considerations  can  make  us  justify 
the  terms  of  divine  homage  which  he  applies  in  all  his  poems,  and 
with  every  variety  of  ornament,  to  the  emperor.  Indeed,  it  would 
be  inconceivable,  were  it  not  certain,  that  the  truest  representative 
of  his  generation  could,  with  the  approbation  of  all  the  world,  use 
language  which,  but  a  single  generation  before,  would  have  called 
forth  nothing  but  scorn. 

Virgil  was  tall,  dark,  and  interesting-looking,  rather  than  hand- 
some; his  health  was  delicate,  and  besides  a  weak  digestion,2  he  suf- 
fered like  other  students  from  headache.  His  industry  must,  in  spite 
of  this,  have  been  extraordinary ;  for  he  shows  an  intimate  acquain- 
tance not  only  with  all  that  is  eminent  in  Greek  and  Latin  litera- 
ture, but  with  many  recondite  departments  of  ritual,  antiquities, 
and  philosophy,3  besides  being  a  true  interpreter  of  nature,  an 

1  As  Horace.  Od.    I.  iii.  4  :    "  Animae  dimidium  meae."    Cf.  S.  i.  5,  4(5, 

•  "  Namqice  pila  lippis  inimicum  et  ludere  cxudis"     Hor.  S.  i.  v.  49. 

*  "  A  pcnilissima  Graecorum  doctrinal     Macr.  v.  22,  15. 


THE  MINOR  POEMS.  257 

excellence  that  does  not  come  without  the  habit  as  well  as  the 
love  of  converse  with  her.  Of  his  personal  feelings  we  know  hut 
little,  for  he  never  shows  that  unreserve  which  characterises  so 
many  of  the  Eoman  writers;  but  he  entertained  a  strong  and  lasting 
friendship  for  Gallus,1  and  the  force  and  truth  of  his  delineations 
of  the  passion  of  love  seem  to  point  to  personal  experience.  Like 
Horace,  he  never  married,  and  his  last  days  are  said  to  have  been 
clouded  with  regret  for  the  unfinished  condition  of  his  great  work. 

The  early  efforts  of  Virgil  were  chiefly  lyric  and  elegiac  pieces 
after  the  manner  of  Catullus,  whom  he  studied  with  the  greatest 
care,  and  two  short  poems  in  hexameters,  both  taken  from  the 
Alexandrines,  called  Gulex  and  Moretum,  of  which  the  latter  alone 
is  certainly,  the  formerly  possibly,  genuine.2  Among  the  short 
pieces  called  Catalecta  we  have  some  of  exquisite  beauty,  as  the 
dedicatory  prayer  to  Venus  and  the  address  to  Siro's  villa  ;3  others 
show  a  vein  of  invective  which  we  find  it  hard  to  associate  with 
the  gentle  poet  ;4  others,  again,  are  parodies  or  close  imitations  of 
Catullus  ;b  while  one  or  two6  are  proved  by  internal  evidence  to  be 
by  another  hand  than  Virgil's.  The  Copa,  "Mine  Hostess," 
which  closes  the  series,  reminds  us  of  Virgil  in  its  expression, 
rhythm,  and  purity  of  style,  but  is  far  more  lively  than  anything 
we  possess  of  his.  It  is  an  invitation  to  a  rustic  friend  to  put  up 
his  beast  and  spend  the  hot  hours  in  a  leafy  arbour  where  wine, 
fruits,  and  goodly  company  wait  for  him.  We  could  wish  the 
first  four  lines  away,  and  then  the  poem  would  be  a  perfect  gem. 
Its  clear  joyous  ring  marks  the  gay  time  of  youth ;  its  varied 
music  sounds  the  prelude  to  the  metrical  triumphs  that  were  to 
come,  and  if  it  is  not  Virgil's,  we  have  lost  in  its  author  a  genre 
poet  of  the  rarest  power. 

The  Moretum  is  a  pleasing  idyll,  describing  the  daily  life  of  the 
peasant  Simplus,  translated  probably  from  the  Greek  of  Parthenius. 
On  it  Teuftel  says,  "  Suevius  had  written  a  Moretum,  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that  the  desire  to  surpass  Suevius  influenced 
Virgil  in  attempting  the  same  task  again."7  Trifling  as  this 
circumstance  is,  nothing  that  throws  any  light  on  the  growth  of 
Virgil's  muse  can  be  wanting  in  interest.  Virgil  was  not  one  of 
those  who  startle  the  world  by  their  youthful  genius.  His  soul 
was  indeed  a  poet's  from  the  first,  but  the  rich  perfection  of  his 
verse  was  not  developed  until  after  years  of  severe  labour,  self - 

1  "  Oallo  cuius  amor  tantum  mihi  crcscit  in  horas 

Quantutr  vere  novo  viridis  se  subiicit  alnus." — Eel.  x.  78 
•  The  Ciris  and  Aetna  formerly  attributed  to  him  are  obviouOy  spurioas. 
■  vi.  and  x.  4  iii.  iv.  5  viii.  ix.  6  v.  vii, 

T  Macrob.  Sat.  iii.  98,  19,  calls  Suevius  vir  doclissimus. 


258  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

correction,  and  even  failure.  He  began  by  essaying  various  styles ; 
he  gradually  confined  himself  to  one  ;  and  in  that  one  he  wrought 
unceasingly,  always  bringing  method  to  aid  talent,  until,  through 
various  grades  of  immaturity,  he  passed  to  a  perfection  peculiarly 
his  own,  in  which  thought  and  expression  are  fused  with  such 
exceeding  art  as  to  elude  all  attempts  to  disengage  them.  If  we 
can  accept  the  Culex  in  its  present  form  as  genuine,  the  develop- 
ment of  Virgil's  genius  is  shown  to  us  in  a  still  earlier  stage. 
Whether  he  wrote  it  at  sixteen  or  twenty-six  (and  to  us  the  latter 
age  seems  infinitely  the  more  probable),  it  bears  the  strongest 
impress  of  immaturity.  It  is  true  the  critics  torment  us  by  their 
doubts.  Some  insist  that  it  cannot  be  by  Virgil.  Their  chief 
arguments  are  derived  from  the  close  resemblances  (which  they 
regard  as  imitations)  to  many  passages  in  the  Aeneid ;  but  of 
these  another,  and  perhaps  a  moi  e  plausible,  explanation  may  be 
given.  The  hardest  argument  to  meet  is  that  drawn  from  the  extra- 
ordinary imperfection  of  the  plot,  which  mars  the  whole  consistency 
of  the  poem;1  but  even  this  is  not  incompatible  with  Virgil's 
authorship.  For  all  ancient  testimony  agrees  in  regarding  the 
Culex  of  Virgil  as  a  poem  of  little  merit.2  Amid  the  uncertainty 
which  surrounds  the  subject,  it  seems  best  not  to  disturb  the 
verdict  of  antiquity,  until  better  grounds  are  discovered  for  assign- 
ing our  present  poem  to  a  later  hand.  To  us  the  evidence  seems 
to  point  to  the  Virgilian  authorship.  The  defect  in  the  plot  marks 
a  fault  to  which  Virgil  certainly  was  prone,  and  which  he  never 
quite  cast  off.3  The  correspondences  with  the  mythology,  lan- 
guage, and  rhythm  of  Virgil  are  just  such  as  might  be  explained 
by  supposing  them  to  be  his  first  opening  conceptions  on  these 
points,  which  assumed  afterwards  a  more  developed  form.4    And 

1  "The  original  motive  of  the  poem  can  only  have  "been  the  idea  that  the 
gnat  could  not  rest  in  Hades,  and  therefore  asked  the  shepherd  whose  life  it 
had  saved,  for  a  decent  burial.  But  this  very  motive,  without  which  the 
whole  poem  loses  its  consistency,  is  wanting  in  the  extant  Culex.'1— 
Teuffel,  R.  L.  §  225,  1,  4. 

8  Its  being  edited  separately  from  Virgil's  works  is  thought  by  Teuffel  to 
indicate  spuriousness.  But  there  is  good  evidence  for  believing  that  the 
poem  accepted  as  Virgil's  by  Statius  and  Martial  was  our  present  Culex. 
Teuffel  thinks  they  were  mistaken,  but  that  is  a  bold  conjecture. 

3  The  missing  the  gist  of  the  story,  of  which  Teuffel  complains,  does  not 
seem  to  us  worse  than  the  glaring  inconsistency  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  book 
of  the  Aeneid,  where  Aeneas  is  dismissed  by  the  gate  of  the  false  visions 
That  incident,  whether  ironical  or  not,  is  unquestionably  an  artistic  blunder, 
since  it  destroys  the  impression  of  truth  on  which  the  justification  of  the 
book  depends. 

4  For  instance,  v.  291,  Scd  tu  crudelis,  erudelis  tu  magis  Orpheu  lookf 
lik«  an  imperfect  anticipation  than  an  imitation  of  Imprcbu*  Me 


THE  ECLOGUES.  25S 

this  is  the  moTe  probable  becausj  Virgil's  mind  created  Tiith 
labour,  and  cast  and  re-cast  in  the  crucible  of  refltcticn  ideas  of 
which  the  first  expression  suggested  itself  in  early  life.  Thus  we 
find  in  the  Aeneid  similes  which  had  occurred  in  a  less  finished 
form  in  the  Georgics ;  in  both  Georgia*  and  Aeneid  phrases  of 
cadences  which  seem  to  brood  over  and  strive  to  reproduce  half- 
forgotten  originals  wrought  out  long  before.  Nothing  is  more 
interesting  in  tracing  Virgil's  genius,  than  to  note  how  each  fullest 
development  of  his  talent  subsumes  and  embraces  those  that  had 
gone  before  it ;  how  his  mind  energises  in  a  continuous  mould, 
and  seems  to  harp  with  almost  jealous  constancy  on  strings  it  has 
once  touched.  The  deeper  we  study  him,  the  more  clearly  is  this 
feature  seen.  Unlike  other  poets  who  throw  off  their  stanzas  and 
rise  as  if  freed  from  a  load,  Virgil  seems  to  carry  the  accumulated 
burden  of  his  creations  about  with  him.  He  imitates  himself 
with  the  same  elaborate  assimilation  by  which  he  digests  and 
reproduces  the  thoughts  of  others. 

It  is  probable  that  Virgil  suppressed  all  his  youthful  poetry, 
and  intended  the  Eclogues  to  be  regarded  as  the  first-fruits  of  his 
genius.1  The  pastoral  had  never  yet  been  cultivated  at  Eome. 
Of  all  the  products  of  later  Greece  none  could  vie  with  it  in 
truth  to  nature.  Its  Sicilian  origin  bespoke  a  fresh  inspiration, 
for  it  arose  in  a  land  where  the  muse  of  Hellas  still  lingered. 
Theocritus's  vivid  delineation  of  country  scenes  must  have  been 
full  of  charm  to  the  Eomans,  and  Virgil  did  well  to  try  to  natura- 

erudelis  tu  quoque  mater.  Again,  v.  293,  parvus*  si  Tartara  possent  pee 
satum  ignovissc,  is  surely  a  feeble  effort  to  say  scirent  si  ignoscere  Manes,  not 
a  reproduction  of  it ;  v.  201,  Ercbo  tit  equos  Nox  could  hardly  have  been 
written  after  ruit  Oceano  nox.  From  an  examination  of  the  similarities  of 
diction,  I  should  incline  to  regard  them  as  in  nearly  every  case  admitting 
naturally  of  this  explanation.  The  portraits  of  Tisiphone,  the  Heliades, 
Orpheus,  and  the  tedious  list  of  heroes,  Greek,  Trojan,  and  Roman,  who 
dwell  in  the  shades,  are  difficult  to  pronounce  upon.  They  might  be  ex- 
tremely bad  copies,  but  it  is  simpler  to  regard  them  as  crude  studies,  unless 
indeed  we  suppose  the  versifier  to  have  introduced  them  with  the  expresa 
design  of  making  the  Culex  a  good  imitation  of  a  juvenile  poem.  Minute 
points  which  make  for  an  early  date  are  meritus(v.  209),  cf.  fultus  hyatinthc 
(Eel.  6) ;  the  rhythms  cognitus  utilitate  manet  (v.  65),  implacabilis  iranimis 
(▼.  237) ;  the  form  viderequZ  (v.  304) ;  the  use  of  the  pass.  part,  with  ace.  (v. 
iii.  175);  of  alliteration  (v.  122,  188) ;  asyndeton  (v.  178,  190) ;  juxtaposi- 
tions like  revolubile  volvens  (v.  168) ;  compounds  like  inevectus  (v.  100,  340) ; 
all  which  are  paralleled  in  Lucr.  and  Virg.  but  hardly  known  in  later  poets. 
The  chief  feature  which  makes  the  other  way  is  the  extreme  rarity  of  eUsions, 
which,  as  a  rule,  are  frequent  in  Virg.  Here  we  have  as  many  as  twenty- 
two  lines  without  elision.  But  w  i  know  that  Virgil  became  more  archaio 
iii  his  style  as  he  grew  older. 

1  Molle  at  que  factti  m  Virgilio  annuerunt  guadenies  rare  camtwu  —Sat 
It  46. 


280  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

liae  it  Not  even  Ms  matchless  grace,  however,  could  atone  foi 
the  want  of  reality  that  pervades  an  imported  type  of  art. 
Sicilian  shepherds,  Eoman  literati,  sometimes  under  a  rustic 
disguise,  sometimes  in  their  own  person  ;  a  landscape  drawn,  now 
from  the  vales  round  Syracuse,  now  from  the  poet's  own  district 
round  Mantua ;  playful  contests  between  rural  bards  interspersed 
with  panegyrics  on  Julius  Caesar  and  the  patrons  or  benefactors 
of  the  poet ;  a  continual  mingling  of  allegory  with  fiction,  of 
genuine  rusticity  with  assumed  courtliness ;  such  are  the  incon- 
gruities which  lie  on  the  very  surface  of  the  Eclogues.  Add  to  these 
the  continual  imitations,  sometimes  sinning  against  the  rules  of 
scholarship,1  which  make  them,  with  all  their  beauties,  by  far  the 
least  original  of  Virgil's  works,  the  artificial  character  of  the 
whole  composition,  and  the  absence  of  that  lofty  self-conscious- 
ness on  the  poet's  part2  which  lends  so  much  fire  to  his  after 
works  :  and  it  may  seem  surprising  that  the  Eclogues  have  been  so 
much  admired.  But  the  fact  is,  their  irresistible  charm  outweighs 
all  the  exceptions  of  criticism.  While  we  read  we  become  like 
Virgil's  own  shepherd ;  we  cannot  choose  but  surrender  ourselves 
to  the  magic  influence  : 

M  Tale  tuum  carmen  nobis,  divine  poeta, 
Quale  sopor  fessis  in  gramine,  quale  per  herbam 
Dulcis  aquae  saliente  sitim  vestingueie  rivo."8 

This  charm  is  due  partly  to  the  skill  with  which  the  poet  ha? 
blended  reality  with  allegory,  fancy  with  feeling,  partly  to  the 
exquisite  language  to  which  their  music  is  attuned.  The  Latin  lan- 
guage had  now  reached  its  critical  period  of  growth,  its  splendid 
but  transitory  epoch  of  ripe  perfection.  Literature  had  arrived 
at  that  second  stage  of  which  Conington  speaks,4  when  thought 
finds  language  no  longer  as  before  intractable  and  inadequate,  but 
able  to  keep  pace  with  and  even  assist  her  movements.  Trains 
of  reflection  are  easily  awakened ;  a  diction  matured  by  reason 
and  experience  rivals  the  flexibility  or  sustains  the  weight  of  con- 
secutive thought  It  is  now  that  an  author's  mind  exhibits  itself 
in  its  most  concrete  form,  and  that  the  power  of  style  is  first  fully 
felt.  But  language  still  occupies  its  proper  place  as  a  means  and  not 
an  end ;  the  artist  does  not  pay  it  homage  for  its  own  sake ;  this  is 
reserved  for  the  next  period  when  the  meridian  is  already  past 

1  E.g.  rvrObif  5'  Zoaov  tfurvOev  becomes  procul  tanhcm;  rivra  8'  evaAAs 
ytvono  becomes  omnia  vel  medium  fiant  mare,  &c. 

*  Virgil  as  yet  claims  but  a  moderate  degree  of  inspiration.  Me  quoqui 
dicunt  Vatcm  pastores :  sed  non  ego  credulus  illis.  Nam  ncque  adhnc  Varic 
videor  nee  dicere  Cinna  Digna}  sed  argutot  inter  strepere  anser  olorcs.  Ea 
tx.  33. 

*  Be.  v.  4&  4  Id  bis  preface  to  the  Eclogues. 


THE  GEORGICS.  26l 

Tt  hag  already  been  said  that  the  Georgics  were  t/ndeitaken  ?M 
the  request  of  Maecenas.1  From  more  than  one  passage  in  the 
Eclogues  we  should  infer  that  Virgil  was  not  altogether  content 
with  the  light  themes  he  was  pursuing ;  that  he  had  before  his 
mind's  eye  dim  visions  of  a  great  work  which  should  give  full  scope 
to  the  powers  he  felt  within  him.  But  Virgil  was  deficient  in 
self-reliance.  He  might  have  continued  to  trifle  with  bucolic 
poetry,  had  not  Maecenas  enlisted  his  muse  in  a  practical  object 
worthy  of  its  greatness.  This  was  the  endeavour  to  rekindle  the 
old  love  of  husbandry  which  had  been  the  nurse  of  Eome's  virtue, 
and  which  was  gradually  dying  out.  To  this  object  Virgil  lent 
himself  with  enthusiasm.  To  feel  that  his  art  might  be  turned  to 
some  real  good,  that  it  might  advance  the  welfare  of  the  state, 
this  idea  acted  on  him  like  an  inspiration.  He  was  by  early 
training  well  versed  in  the  details  of  country  life.  And  he  deter- 
mined that  nothing  which  ardour  or  study  could  effect  should  be 
wanting  to  make  his  knowledge  at  once  thorough  and  attractive. 
"For  seven  years  he  wrought  into  their  present  artistic  perfection 
vhe  technical  details  of  husbandry ;  a  labour  of  love  wrought  out 
3f  study  and  experience,  and  directed,  as  Merivale  well  says,  to  the 
glorification  of  labour  itself  as  the  true  end  of  man. 

Virgil's  treatment  is  partially  adapted  from  the  Alexandrines ; 
but,  as  he  himself  says,  his  real  model  is  Hesiod.2  The  combina- 
tion of  quaint  sententiousness  with  deep  enthusiasm,  which  he 
found  in  the  old  poet,  met  his  conception  of  what  a  practical 
poem  should  be.  And  so,  although  the  desultory  maxims  of  the 
Works  and  Days  give  but  a  faint  image  of  the  comprehensive 
width  and  studied  discursiveness  of  the  Georgics,  yet  they 
present  a  much  more  real  parallel  to  it  than  the  learned  trifling  of 
Aratus  or  Meander.  For  Virgil,  like  Lucretius,  is  no  trifler :  he 
uses  verse  as  a  serious  vehicle  for  impressing  his  conviction ;  he 
acknowledges,  so  to  say,  the  responsibility  of  his  calling,3  and 
writes  in  poetry  because  poetry  is  the  clothing  of  his  mind. 
Hence  the  Georgics  must  be  ranked  as  a  link  in  the  chain  of 
serious  treatises  on  agriculture,  of  which  Cato's  is  the  first  and 
Varro's  the  second,  designed  to  win  the  nation  back  to  the  study 
and  discipline  of  its  youth.  And  that  Columella  so  understood 
it  is  clear  both  from  his  defending  his  opinions  by  frequent  quota- 

1  Page  248.     Cf.  also  tua  Maecenas  hand  mollia  iussa,  G.  iii.  41. 

*  Ascracumque  cano  JRomanaper  oppida  carmen,  G.  ii.  176. 

*  The  words  llle  ludere  quae  vellem  calamo  permisit  agresti  (Eel.  L  10), 
Slight  seem  to  contradict  this,  but  the  Eclogues  were  of  a  lightei  cast.  Hf 
eever  speak 8  of  the  Georg.  or  Aen.  as  lusus.  So  Hor.  (Ep.  i.  1  10)u  wtmm 
ft  eeiera  ludicra  pom  ;  referring  to  his  odes. 


262  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tion  from  it  as  a  standard  authority,  and  from  his  writing  OM 
book  of  his  voluminous  manual  in  verses  imitated  from  Virgil. 
The  almost  religious  fervour  with  which  Yirgil  threw  himself  into 
the  task  of  arresting  the  decay  of  Italian  life,  which  is  the  domi- 
nant motive  of  the  Aeneid,  is  present  also  in  the  Georgics.  The 
pithy  condensation  of  useful  experience  characteristic  of  Cuto, 

*'  Utiliumque  sagax  rerum  et  divina  futuri 
Sortilegis  lion  discrepuit  sententia  Delphis,"* 

the  fond  antiquarianism  of  Varro,  "laudator  temporis  acti," 
unite,  with  the  newly-kindled  hope  of  future  glories  to  be  achieved 
under  Caesar's  rule,  to  make  the  Georgics  the  most  complete 
embodiment  of  lloman  industrial  views,  as  the  Aeneid  is  of 
Roman  theology  and  religion.2  Virgil  aims  at  combining 
the  stream  of  poetical  talent,  which  had  come  mostly  from 
outside,3  with  the  succession  of  prose  compositions  on  practical 
subjects  which  had  proceeded  from  the  burgesses  themselves. 
Cato  and  Varro  are  as  continually  before  his  mind  as  Ennius, 
Catullus,  and  Lucretius.  A  new  era  had  arrived :  the  systema- 
tising  of  the  results  of  the  past  he  felt  was  committed  to  him. 
Of  Virgil's  works  the  Georgics  is  unquestionably  the  most 
artistic.  Grasp  of  the  subject,  clearness  of  arrangement,  evenness 
of  style,  are  all  at  their  highest  excellence ;  the  incongruities  that 
criticism  detects  in  the  Eclogues,  and  the  unrealites  that  oiten 
mar  the  Aeneidf  are  almost  wholly  absent.  There  is,  however, 
one  great  artistic  blemish,  for  which  the  poet's  courage,  not  his 
taste,  is  to  blame.  We  have  already  spoken  of  his  affection  for 
Gallus,  celebrated  in  the  most  extravagant  but  yet  the  most 
ethereally  beautiful  of  the  Eclogues  ;4  and  this  affection,  unbroken 
by  the  disgrace  and  exile  of  its  object,  had  received  a  yet  more 
splendid  tribute  in  the  episode  which  closed  the  Georgics. 
Unhappily,  the  beauties  of  this  episode,  so  honourable  to  the 
poet's  constancy,  are  to  us  a  theme  for  conjecture  only;  the 
narrow  jealousy  of  Augustus  would  not  suffer  any  honourable 
mention  of  one  who  had  fallen  under  his  displeasure  ;  and,  to  his 
lasting  disgrace,  he  ordered  Virgil  to  erase  his  work.  The  poet 
weakly  consented,  and  filled  up  the  gap  by  the  story,  beautiful, 
it  is  true,  but  singularly  inappropriate,  of  Aristaeus  and  Orpheus 
and   Eurydice.      This  epic  sketch,  Alexandrine  in  form   hxx\ 

1  Hor.  A.  P.  218. 

•  See  G.  i.  500,  sqq.  where  Augustus  is  regarded  as  the  saviour  of  the  age, 

*  We  have  observed  that  except  Lucretius  all  the  great  poets  were  horn 
the  municipia  or  provinces. 

4  The  tenth  ;  imitated  in  Milton's  LycULa*. 


HIS  LOVE  or  KATUKE.  265 

abounding  in  touches  of  the  richest  native  genius,1  must  have 
revealed  to  Rome  something  of  the  loftiness  of  which  Virgil's 
muse  was  capable.  With  a  felicity  and  exuberance  scarcely  interior 
to  Ovid,  it  united  a  power  of  awakening  feeling,  a  dreamy  pathos 
and  a  sustained  eloquence,  which  marked  its  author  as  the  heir  of 
Homer's  lyre,  "  magnae  spes  altera  Romae."  2 

In  a  work  like  this  it  would  be  obviously  out  of  place  to  offer 
any  minute  criticism  either  upon  the  beauties  or  the  difficulties  of 
the  Georgics.  We  shall  conclude  this  short  notice  with  one  or  two 
remarks  on  that  love  of  nature  in  Latin  poetry  of  which  the 
Georgics  are  the  most  renowned  example.  Dunlop  has  called 
Virgil  a  landscape  painter.3  In  so  far  as  this  implies  a  faithful 
and  picturesque  delineation  of  natural  scenes,  whether  of  move- 
ment or  repose,4  the  criticism  is  a  happy  one  :  Virgil  lingers  over 
these  with  more  affection  than  any  previous  writer.  The  absence 
of  a  strong  feeling  for  the  peaceful  or  the  grand  in  nature  has 
often  been  remarked  as  a  shortcoming  of  the  Greek  mind,  and  it 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  innate  even  in  the  Italian.  Alpine 
scenery  suggested  no  associations  but  those  of  horror  and  desolation. 
Even  the  more  attractive  beauties  of  woods,  rills,  and  flowers,  were 
hailed  rather  as  a  grateful  exchange  from  the  turmoil  of  the  city 
than  from  a  sense  of  their  intrinsic  loveliness ;  it  is  the  repose, 
the  comfort,  ease,  in  a  word  the  body,  not  the  epirit  of  nature  that 
the  Roman  poets  celebrate.5  As  a  rule  their  own  retirement  was 
not  spent  amid  really  rustic  scenes.  The  villas  of  the  great  were 
furnished  with  every  means  of  making  study  or  contemplation 
attractive.  Rich  gardens,  cool  porticoes,  and  the  shade  of  planted 
trees  were  more  to  the  poet's  taste  than  the  rugged  stile  or  the 
village  green.  Their  aspirations  after  rural  simplicity  spring  from 
the  weariness  of  city  unrealities  rather  than  from  the  necessity  of 
being  alone  with  nature.  As  a  fact  the  poems  of  Virgil  were  not 
composed  in  a  secluded  country  retreat,  but  in  the  splendid  and 
fashionable  vicinity  of  Naples.6     The  Lake  of  Avernus,  the  Sibyl's 

1  In  its  form  it  reminds  us  of  those  Epyllla  which  were  such  favourite 
subjects  with  Calliniachus,  of  which  the  Peleus  and  Thetis  is  a  specimen. 

3  Said  to  have  been  uttered  by  Cicero  on  hearing  the  Eclogues  read ;  the 
rima  spes  Romae  being  of  course  the  orator  himself.  But  the  story,  however 
pretty,  cannot  be  true,  as  Cicero  died  before  the  Eclogues  were  composed. 

*  Hist.  Lat.  Lit.  vol.  iii. 

*  The  most  powerful  are  perhaps  the  description  of  a  storm  (G.  i.  316,  sqq.\ 
of  the  cold  winter  of  Scythia  (G.  iii.  339,  sqq.),  and  in  a  slightly  different 
way,  of  the  old  man  of  Ccrycia  (G.  iv.  125,  sqq.). 

*  The  latis  otiafundis  so  much  coveted  by  Romans.  These  remarks  are 
learcely  true  of  Horace. 

*  Naples,  Baiae,  Pozzuoli,  Pompeii,  were  the  Brightons  and  Scarborough! 
of  Rome.     Luxurious  ease  was  attainable  there,  but  the  country  was  only 


264  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATUEE. 

cave,  and  the  other  scenes  so  beautifully  painted  in  the  Aeneid  *t% 
all  near  the  spot.  From  his  luxurious  villa  the  poet  could  indulge 
his  reverie  on  the  simple  rusticity  of  his  ancestors  or  the  landscapes 
famous  in  the  scenery  of  Greek  song.  At  such  times  his  mind 
called  up  images  of  Greek  legend  that  blended  with  his  delinea- 
tions of  Italian  peasant  life:1 

"  0  ubi  cam  pi 
S  perch  eiosque,  et  virginibus  bacchata  Lacaenii 
Taygeta  ;  o  qui  me  gelidis  in  vallibus  Haemi 
Sistat,  et  ingenti  ram  or  urn  protegat  umbra  ! H 

The  very  name  Tempe,  given  &o  often  to  shady  vales,  shows  the 
mingled  literary  and  aesthetic  associations  that  entered  into  the 
love  of  rural  ease  and  quiet.  The  deeper  emotion  peculiar  to 
modern  times,  which  struggles  to  find  expression  in  the  verse  of 
Shelley  or  Wordsworth,  in  the  canvass  of  Turner,  in  the  life  of  rest- 
less travel,  often  a  riddle  so  perplexing  to  those  who  cannot  under- 
stand its  source ;  the  mysterious  questionings  which  ask  of  nature 
not  only  what  she  says  to  us,  but  what  she  utters  to  herself ;  why 
it  is  that  if  she  be  our  mother,  she  veils  her  face  from  her  children, 
and  will  not  use  a  language  they  can  understand — 

'•  Cur  natum  crudelis  tu  quoqne  falsis 
Liulis  imaginibus  ?  Cur  dextrae  iungere  dextram 
Non  datur,  et  veras  audire  et  reddere  voces  ?" 

feelings  like  these  which — though  often  bub  obscurely  present,  it 
would  indeed  be  a  superficial  glance  that  did  not  read  in  much  of 
modern  thought,  however  unsatisfactory,  in  much  of  modern  art, 
however  imperfect — we  can  hardly  trace,  or,  if  at  all,  only  as 
lighest  ripples  on  the  surface,  scarely  ruffling  the  serene  melan- 
choly, deep  indeed,  but  self-contained  because  unconscious  of  its 
depth,  in  which  Virgil's  poetry  flows. 

At  what  time  of  his  life  Virgil  turned  his  thoughts  to  epic 
poetry  is  not  known.  Probably  like  most  gifted  poets  he  felt  from 
his  earliest  years  the  ambition  to  write  a  heroic  poem.  He  ex- 
presses this  feeling  in  the  Eclogues2  more  than  once;  PolhVs 
exploits  seemed  to  him  worthy  of  such  a  celebration.3     In  the 

given  in  a  very  artificial  setting.  It  was  almost  like  an  artist  painting  land- 
scapes in  his  studio. 

1  G.  ii.  486.  The  literary  reminiscences  with  which  Virgil  associated  the 
most  common  realities  have  often  been  noted.  Cranes  are  for  him  Strymonian 
because  Homer  so  describes  them.  Dogs  are  Amyclcan,  because  the  Lad 
was  a  breed  celebrated  in  Greek  poetry.  Italian  warriors  bend  Cretan 
bows,  &c. 

2  Cumcaneremregesetpraelia  Cynthiits  aurem  Vellit,  et  admonuit  Pastorem 
Tttyre,  pinyues  Pascere  oportet  oves,  deductum  dice/re  carmen.  (E.  vi.  3). 

8  Jfe  erit  unquam  Hie  dies  tua  cum  liceat  mihi  dicere  facta  (EL  viii.  7.)  ? 


MIS  AniTUDE  FOE  EPIC  POETRY.  265 

Genrgics  he  declares  that  he  will  wed  Caesar's  glories  o  an  epic 
strain,1  hut  though  the  enperor  urged  him  to  undertake  the  sub- 
ject, which  was  besides  in  strict  accordance  with  epic  precedent, 
his  mature  judgment  led  him  to  reject  it.2  Like  Milton,  he  seems 
to  have  revolved  for  many  years  the  different  themes  that  came 
to  him,  and,  like  him,  to  have  at  last  chosen  one  which  by  mount- 
ing back  into  the  distant  past  enabled  him  to  indulge  historical 
retrospect,  and  gather  into  one  focus  the  entire  subsequent  develop- 
ment. As  to  his  aptitude  for  epic  poetry  opinions  differ. 
Niebuhr  expresses  the  view  of  many  great  critics  when  he  says, 
"  Virgil  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  a  man  mistaking  his  vocation  ; 
his  real  calling  was  lyric  poetry;  his  small  lyric  poems  show  that 
he  would  have  been  a  poet  like  Catullus  if  he  had  not  been  led 
away  by  his  desire  to  write  a  great  Graeco-Latin  poem."  And 
Mommsen,  by  speaking  of  "successes  like  that  of  the  Aeneid," 
evidently  inclines  towards  the  same  view.  It  must  be  conceded 
that  Virgil's  genius  lacked  heroic  fibre,  invention,  dramatic  power. 
He  had  not  an  idea  of  "that  stern  joy  that  warriors  feel,"  so 
necessary  to  one  who  would  raise  a  martial  strain.  The  passages 
we  remember  best  are  the  very  ones  that  are  least  heroic.  The 
funeral  games  in  honour  of  Anchises,  the  forlorn  queen,  the  death 
of  Nisus  and  Euryalus,  owe  all  their  charm  to  the  sacrifice  of  the 
heroic  to  the  sentimental.  Had  Virgil  been  able  to  keep  rigidly 
to  the  lofty  purpose  with  which  he  entered  on  his  work,  we  should 
perhaps  have  lost  the  episodes  which  bring  out  his  purest  inspira- 
tion. So  far  as  his  original  endowments  went,  his  mind  cer- 
tainly was  not  cast  in  a  heroic  mould.  But  the  counter-balancing 
qualifications  must  not  be  forgotten.  He  had  an  inextinguishable 
enthusiasm  for  his  art,  a  heart 

"  Smit  with  the  love  of  ancient  song," 

a  susceptibility  to  literary  excellence  never  equalled,3  and  a  spirit 
responsive  to  the  faintest  echo  of  the  music  of  the  ages.4     The 

1  Mox  tamcn  ardcntes  accingar  diccre  pugnas  Cacsaris,  &c.  (G.  iii.  46).  The 
Caesar  is  of  course  Augustus. 

2  This  eagerness  to  have  their  exploits  celebrated,  though  common  to  all 
men,  is,  in  its  extreme  development,  peculiarly  lioman.  Witness  the  impor- 
tunity of  Cicero  to  his  friends,  his  epic  on  himself ;  and  the  ill-concealed 
vanity  of  Augustus.  We  know  not  to  how  many  poets  he  applied  to  undertake 
a  task  which,  after  all,  was  never  performed  (except  partially  by  Varius). 

8  Except  perhaps  by  Plato,  who,  with  Sophocles,  is  the  Greek  writer  that 
most  resembles  Virgil. 

4  Virgil,  like  Milton,  possesses  the  power  of  calling  out  beautiful  associa- 
tions from  proper  names.  The  lists  of  sounding  names  in  the  seventh  and 
tenth  Aeneids  are  striking  instances  of  this  faculty. 


266  HISTORY  OF  BOMAN  LITERATURE 

very  faculties  that  bar  his  entrance  into  the  circle  of  creative  mind* 
enable  him  to  stand  first  among  th  3se  epic  poets  who  own  a  literary 
rather  than  an  original  inspiration.  For  in  truth  epic  poetry  is  a 
name  for  two  widely  different  classes  of  composition.  The  first 
comprehends  those  early  legends  and  ballads  which  arise  in  a 
nation's  vigorous  youth,  and  embody  the  most  cherished  traditions 
of  its  gods  and  heroes  and  the  long  series  of  their  wars  and  loves. 
Strictly  native  in  its  origin,  such  poetry  is  the  spontaneous  ex- 
pression of  a  people's  political  and  religious  life.  It  may  exist  in 
scattered  fragments  bound  together  only  by  unity  of  sentiment  and 
poetic  inspiration  :  or  it  may  be  welded  into  a  whole  by  the  genius 
ol  some  heroic  bard.  But  it  can  only  arise  in  that  early  period  of 
a  nation's  history  when  political  combination  is  as  yet  imperfect, 
and  scientific  knowledge  has,  not  begun  to  mark  off  the  domain  of 
historic  fact  from  the  cloudland  of  fancy  and  legend.  Of  this  class 
are  the  Homeric  poems,  the  Nibelunrjen  Lied,  the  Norse  ballads, 
the  Edda,  the  Kalcwdla,  the  legends  of  Arthur,  and  the  poem  of 
the  Cid  :  all  these,  whatever  their  differences,  have  this  in  common, 
that  they  sprang  at  a  remote  period  out  of  the  earliest  traditions 
of  the  several  peoples,  and  neither  did  nor  could  have  originated 
in  a  state  of  advanced  civilization.  It  is  far  otherwise  with  the  other 
sort  of  epics.  These  are  composed  amid  the  complex  influences  of  a 
highly  developed  political  life.  They  are  the  fruit  of  conscious 
thought  reflecting  on  the  story  before  it  and  seeking  to  unfold  its 
results  according  to  the  systematic  rules  of  art.  The  stage  has 
been  reached  which  discerns  fact  from  fable ;  the  myths  which  to 
an  earlier  age  seemed  the  highest  embodiment  of  truth,  are  now 
mere  graceful  ornaments,  or  at  most  faint  images  of  hidden  realities. 
The  state  has  asserted  its  dominion  over  man's  activity ;  science, 
sacred  and  profane,  has  given  its  stores  to  enrich  his  mind ;  philo- 
sophy has  led  him  to  meditate  on  his  place  in  the  system  of  things. 
To  write  an  enduring  epic  a  poet  must  not  merely  recount  heroic 
deeds,  but  must  weave  into  the  recital  all  the  tangled  threads  which 
bind  together  the  grave  and  varied  interests  of  civilized  man. 

It  is  the  glory  of  Virgil  that  alone  with  Dante  and  Milton  he 
has  achieved  this ;  that  he  stands  forth  as  the  expression  of  an 
epoch,  of  a  nation.  That  obedience  to  sovereign  law,1  which  i& 
the  chief  burden  of  the  Aeneid,  stands  out  among  the  diverse 
elements  of  Roman  life  as  specially  prominent,  just  as  faith  in  the 
Church's  doctrine  is  the  burden  of  Medievalism  as  expressed  in 
Dante,  and  as  justification  of  God's  dealings,  as  given  in  Scripture, 
forms  the  lesson  of  Paradise  Lost,  making  it  the  best  poetical 

1  It  is  true  this  law  is  represented  a*  divine,  not  human  ;  but  the  principle 
u  the  samn. 


HIS  APTITUDE  FOR  EPIC  POETRY.  26*/ 

representative  of  Protestant  thought  None  of  Virgil's  predeces- 
sors understood  the  conditions  under  which  epic  greatness  wa§ 
possible.  His  successors,  in  spite  of  his  example,  understood  them 
still  less.  It  has  been  said  that  no  events  are  of  themselves  un* 
suited  for  epic  treatment,  singly  because  they  are  modern  or  his- 
torical.1 This  may  be  true;  and  yet,  where  is  the  poet  that  has 
succeeded  in  them  ]  The  early  Roman  poets  were  patriotic  men ; 
they  chose  for  subjects  the  annals  of  Rome,  which  they  celebrated 
in  noble  though  unskilled  verse.  Naevius.  Ennius,  Accius,  Hos- 
tius,  Bibaculus,  and  Varius  before  Virgil,  Lucan  and  Silius  after 
him,  treated  national  subjects,  some  of  great  antiquity,  some 
almost  contemporaneous.  But  they  failed,  as  Voltaire  failed, 
because  historical  events  are  not  by  themselves  the  natural  sub 
jects  of  heroic  verse.  Tasso  chose  a  theme  where  history  and 
romance  were  so  blended  as  to  admit  of  successful  epic  treatment ; 
but  such  conditions  are  rare.  Few  would  hesitate  to  prefer  the 
histories  of  Herodotus  and  Livy  to  any  poetical  account  whatevei 
of  the  Persian  and  Punic  wars ;  and  in  such  preference  they  would 
be  guided  by  a  true  principle,  for  the  domain  of  history  borders 
on  and  overlaps,  but  does  not  coincide  with,  that  of  poetry. 

The  perception  of  this  truth  has  led  many  epic  poets  to  err  in 
the  opposite  extreme.  They  have  left  the  region  of  truth  alto- 
gether, and  confined  themselves  to  pure  fancy  or  legend.  This 
error  is  less  serious  than  the  first ;  for  not  only  are  legendary  sub- 
jects well  adapted  for  epic  treatment,  but  they  may  be  made  the 
natural  vehicle  of  deep  or  noble  thought.  The  Orlando  Furioso 
and  the  Faery  Queen  are  examples  of  this.  But  more  often  the 
poet  either  uses  his  subject  as  a  means  for  exhibiting  his  learning 
or  style,  as  Statius,  Cinna,  and  the  Alexandrines;  or  loses  sight  of  the 
deeper  meaning  altogether,  and  merely  reproduces  the  beauty  of 
the  ancient  myths  without  reference  to  their  ideal  truth,  as  was 
done  by  Ovid,  and  recently  by  Mr  Morris,  with  brilliant  success, 
in  his  Earthly  Paradise.  This  poem,  like  the  Metamorphoses, 
does  not  claim  to  be  a  national  epic,  but  both,  by  their  vivid 
realization  of  a  mythology  which  can  never  lose  its  charm,  hold  a 
legitimate  place  among  the  offshoots  of  epic  song. 

Virgil  has  overcome  the  difficulties  and  joined  the  besr  results 
of  both  these  imperf ect  forms.  By  adopting  the  legend  of  Aeneas, 
which,  since  the  Punic  wars,  had  established  itself  as  one  of  the 
firmest  national  beliefs,2  he  was  enabled  without  sacrificing  reality 
to  employ  the  resources  of  Homeric  art;  by  tracing  directly  to 

1  Niebuhr,  Lecture,  106. 

•  For  example,  Sal  lust  at  the  commencement  of  his  Catilin    regards  it 

M  authoritative. 


268  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

that  legend  the  glorious  development  of  Roman  life  and  Roman 
dominion,  he  has  become  the  poet  of  his  nation's  history,  and 
through  it,  of  the  whole  ancient  world. 

The  elements  which  enter  into  the  plan  of  the  Aeneid  are  so 
numerous  as  to  have  caused  very  different  conceptions  of  its  scope 
and  meaning.  Some  have  regarded  it  as  tlie  sequel  and  counter- 
part of  the  Iliad,  in  which  Troy  triumphs  over  her  ancient  foe, 
and  Greece  acknowledges  the  divine  Nemesis.  That  this  concep- 
tion was  present  to  the  poet  is  clear  from  many  passages  in  which 
he  reminds  Greece  that  she  is  under  Rome's  dominion,  and  con- 
trasts the  heroes  or  achievements  of  the  two  nations.1  But  it  ia 
by  no  means  sufficient  to  explain  the  whole  poem,  and  indeed  is 
in  contradiction  to  its  inner  spirit.  For  in  the  eleventh  Aeneid8 
Diomed  declares  that  after  Troy  was  taken  he  desires  to  have  no 
more  war  with  the  Trojan  race ;  and  in  harmony  with  this  thought 
Virgil  conceives  of  the  two  nations  under  Rome's  supremacy  as 
working  together  by  law,  art,  and  science,  to  advance  the  human 
race.3  Roman  talent  has  made  her  own  all  that  Greek  genius 
created,  and  fate  has  willed  that  neither  race  should  be  complete 
without  the  other.  The  germs  of  this  fine  thought  are  found  in 
the  historian  Polybius,  who  dwelt  on  the  grandeur  of  such  a  joint 
influence,  and  perhaps  through  his  intercourse  with  the  Scipionic 
circle,  gave  the  idea  currency.  It  is  therefore  rather  the  final 
reconciliation  than  the  continued  antagonism  that  the  A  eneid  cele- 
brates, though  of  course  national  pride  dwells  on  the  striking 
change  of  relations  that  time  had  brought. 

Another  view  of  the  Aeneid  makes  it  centre  in  Augustus. 
Aeneas  then  becomes  a  type  of  the  emperor,  whose  calm  calcu- 
lating courage  was  equalled  by  his  piety  to  the  gods,  and  care  for 
public  morals.  Turnus  represents  Antony,  whose  turbulent 
vehemence  (violentia)*  mixed  with  generosity  and  real  valour, 
makes  us  lament,  while  we  accept  his  fate.  Dido  is  the  Egyptian 
queen  whose  arts  fell  harmless  on  Augustus's  cold  reserve,  and 
whose  resolve  to  die  eluded  his  vigilance.  Drances,5  the  brilliant 
OTator  whose  hand  was  slow  to  wield  the  sword,  is  a  study  from 
Cicero  ;  and  so  the  other  less  important  characters  have  historical 
prototypes.  But  there  is  even  less  to  be  said  for  this  view  than 
for  the  other.     It  is  altogether  too  narrow,  and  cannot  be  made  to 

1  Cf.  Geor.  u.  140-176.  Aen.  L  233-5;  vi.  847-853;  also  ii.  291,  2; 
432-4  ;  vi.  837  ;  xi.  281-292.  2  Loc.  cit. 

5  Observe  the  care  with  which  he  has  recorded  the  history  and  origin  of 
the  Greek  colonies  in  Italy.     He  seems  to  claim  a  right  in  them. 

4  This  word,  as  Mr  Nettleship  has  shown  in  his  Introduction  to  the  Studf 
af  Virgil,  is  used  only  of  Turnus. 

5  xi.  336,  sqq.     but  the  rharaeter  bears  no  resemblance  to  Cicero's. 


SCOPE  OF  THE  AENEID.  269 

correspond  with  the  facts  of  history,  nor  do  the  characters  en  a 
close  inspection  resemble  their  supposed  originals.1  Reyond  doubt 
the  stirring  scenes  Virgil  had  as  a  young  man  witnessed,  suggested 
points  which  he  has  embodied  in  the  story,  but  the  Greek  maxrn 
that  "  poetry  deals  with  universal  truth,"2  must  have  been  rightly 
understood  by  him  to  exclude  all  such  dressing-up  of  historical 
facts. 

There  remains  the  view  to  which  many  critics  have  lent  their 
support,  that  the  Aeneid  celebrates  the  triumph  of  law  and  civiliza 
tion  over  the  savage  instincts  of  man ;  and  that  because  Rome 
had  proved  the  most  complete  civilizing  power,  therefore  it  is  to 
her  greatness  that  everything  in  the  poem  conspires.  This  view 
has  the  merit  of  being  in  every  way  worthy  of  "Virgil.  No  loftier 
conception  could  guide  his  verse  through  the  long  labyrinth  of 
legend,  history,  religious  and  antiquarian  lore,  in  which  for  ten 
years  of  patient  study  his  muse  sought  inspiration.  Still  it  seems 
somewhat  too  philosophical  to  have  been  by  itself  his  animating 
principle.  It  is  true,  patriotism  had  enlarged  its  basis  ;  the  city 
of  Rome  was  already  the  world,3  and  the  growth  of  Rome  was  the 
growth  of  human  progress.  Hence  the  muse,  while  celebrating 
the  imperial  state,  transcends  in  thought  the  limits  of  space  and 
time,  and  swells,  as  it  were,  the  great  hymn  of  humanity.  But 
this  represents  rather  the  utmost  reach  of  the  poet's  flight  after  he 
has  thrown  himself  into  the  empyrean  than  the  original  definitely 
conceived  goal  on  which  he  fixed  his  mind.  We  should  supple- 
ment this  view  by  another  held  by  Macrobius  and  many  Latin 
critics,  and  of  which  Mr  Nettleship,  in  a  recent  admirable  pam 
pliiet4  recognises  the  justice,  viz.  that  the  Aeneid  was  written 
with  a  religious  object,  and  must  be  regarded  mainly  as  a  religious 
poem.  Its  burning  patriotism  glows  with  a  religious  light.  Its 
hero  is  "religious "  (pius),  not  " beautiful "  or  " brave." 5  At  the 
sacrifice  even  of  poetical  effect  his  religious  dependence  on  th6 
gods  is  brought  into  prominence.  The  action  of  the  whole  poem 
hinges  on  the  Divine  will,  which  is  not  as  in  Homer,  a  mere 
counterpart  of  the  human,  far  less  is  represented  as  in  conflict 
with  resistless  destiny,  but,  cognizant  of  fate  and  in  perfect  union 

1  There  are  no  doubt  constant  rapports  between  Augustus  and  Aeneas, 
l>etween  the  unwillingness  of  Turnus  to  give  up  Lavinia,  and  that  of  Antony 
to  give  up  Cleopatra,  &c.  But  it  is  a  childish  criticism  which  founds  a 
theory  upon  these. 

2  rod  KaQoKov  ecrrlv,  Arist.  De  Poet.  8  "  Urbig  orbis." 
4  Suggestions  Introductory  to  the  Study  of  the  Aeneid. 

*  The  Greek  heroic  epithets  5ibs,  icaXbs,  aya66s,  &c.  primarily  significant 
of  personal  beauty,  were  transferred  to  the  moral  sphere.  The  epithet  pirn 
is  altogether  moral  and  religious,  and  has  no  physi  cal  basis. 


270  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERArURE. 

with  it,  as  overruling  all  lower  impulses,  divine  dt  human, 
towards  the  realization  of  the  appointed  end.  This  Divine  Powei 
is  Jupiter,  whom  in  the  Aeneid  he  calls  hy  this  name  as  a  con- 
cession to  conventional  beliefs,  but  in  the  Georgics  prefers  to 
leave  nameless,  symbolised  under  the  title  Father.1  Jupiter  is 
not  the  Author,  but  he  is  the  Interpreter  and  Champion  of 
Destiny  (Fata),  which  lies  buried  in  the  realm  of  the  unknown, 
except  so  far  as  the  father  of  the  gods  pleases  to  reveal  it2 
Deities  of  sufficient  power  or  resource  may  defer  but  cannot 
prevent  its  accomplishment.  Juno  is  represented  doing  this — 
the  idea  is  of  course  from  Homer.  But  Jupiter  does  not  desire 
to  change  destiny,  even  if  he  could,  though  he  feels  compassion 
at  its  decrees  (e.g.  at  the  death  of  Turnus).  The  power  of  the 
Divine  fiat  to  overrule  human  equity  is  shown  by  the  death  of 
Turnus  who  has  right,  and  of  Dido  who  has  the  lesser  wrong,  on 
her  side.  Thus  punishment  is  severed  from  desert,  and  loses  its 
higher  meaning;  the  instinct  of  justice  is  lost  in  the  assertion 
of  divine  power;  and  while  in  details  the  religion  of  the  Aeneid 
is  often  pure  and  noble,  its  ultimate  conceptions  of  the  relation  of 
the  human  and  divine  are  certainly  no  advance  on  those  of  Homer. 
The  verdict  of  one  who  reads  the  poem  from  this  point  of  view 
will  surely  be  that  of  Sellar,  who  denies  that  it  enlightens  the 
human  conscience.  Every  form  of  the  doctrine  that  might  is 
right,  however  skilfully  veiled,  as  it  is  in  the  Aeneid  by  a  thou- 
sand beautiful  intermediaries,  must  be  classed  among  the  crude 
and  uncreative  theories  which  mark  an  only  half-reflecting  people. 
But  when  we  pass  from  the  philosophy  of  religion  to  the  par- 
ticular manifestation  of  it  as  a  national  worship,  we  find  Virgil  at 
his  greatest,  and  worthy  to  hold  the  position  he  held  with  later 
ages  as  the  most  authoritative  expounder  of  the  Roman  ritual  and 
creed.3  He  shared  the  palm  of  learning  with  Varro,  and  sym- 
pathy inclined  towards  the  poet  rather  than  the  antiquarian.  The 
Aeneid  is  literally  filled  with  memorials  of  the  old  religion.  The 
glory  of  Aeneas  is  to  have  brought  with  him  the  Trojan  gods,  and 
through  perils  of  every  kind  to  have  guarded  his  faith  in  them, 
and  scrupulously  preserved  their  worship.  It  is  not  the  Trojan 
race  as  such  that  the  Romans  could  look  back  to  with  pride  as 

1  Pater  ipse  colendi  ;  haud  facilem  esse  viam  voluit,  and  often.  The  name  of 
Jupiter  is  in  that  poem  reserved  for  the  physical  manifestations  of  the  great 
Power. 

2  The  questions  suggested  by  Venus's  speech  to  Jupiter  (Aen.  1,  229, sqq.) 
as  compared  with  that  of  Jupii;er  himself  (Aen.  x.  104),  are  too  large  to  hi 
discussed  here.     But  tb<'  student  is  recommended  to  study  them  carefully. 

*  Like  Dante,  he  was  held  to  be  Theologies  nullius  dogmatu  ezpers.  Set 
Boissier,  Religion  des  Ilomains,  vol.  i.  eh.  iii.  p.  260. 


THE  AENEID  A  RELIGIOUS  POEM.  27 i 

ancestors ;  they  are  the  bis  capti  Phryges,  who  are  but  heaven-sent 
instruments  for  consecrating  the  Latin  race  to  the  mission  foi 
which  it  is  prepared.  u  Occidit"  says  Juno,  "  occiderltque  sinas 
cum  nomine  Troja  :"1  and  Aeneas  states  the  object  of  his  proposal 
in  these  words — 

"Sacra  deosque  dabo ;  socer  anna  Latinas  habeto.**1 

This  then  being  the  lofty  origin,  the  immemorial  antiquity  of  the 
national  faith,  the  moral  is  easily  drawn,  that  Rome  must  never 
cease  to  observe  it.  The  rites  to  import  which  into  the  favoured 
land  cost  heaven  itself  so  fierce  a  struggle,  which  have  raised  that 
land  to  be  the  head  of  all  the  earth,  must  not  be  neglected  now  that 
their  promise  has  been  fulfilled.  Each  ceremony  embodies  some 
glorious  reminiscence;  each  minute  technicality  enshrines  some 
special  national  blessing. 

Here,  as  in  the  Georgics,  Cato  and  Varro  live  in  Virgil,  but 
with  far  less  of  narrow  literalness,  with  far  more  of  rich  enthu- 
siasm. We  can  well  believe  that  the  Aeneid  was  a  poem  after 
Augustus's  heart,  that  he  welcomed  with  pride  as  well  as  glad- 
ness the  instalments  which,  before  its  publication,  he  was  per- 
mitted to  see,3  and  encouraged  by  unreserved  approbation  so 
thorough  an  exponent  of  his  cherished  views.4  To  him  the 
Aeneid  breathed  the  spirit  of  the  old  cult  Its  very  style,  like 
that  of  Milton  from  the  Bible,  was  borrowed  in  countless  in- 
stances from  the  Sacred  Manuals.  When  Aeneas  offers  to  the 
gods  four  prime  oxen  (eximios  tauros)  the  pious  Eoman  recognised 
the  words  of  the  ritual.4  When  the  nymph  Cymodoce  rouses 
Aeneas  to  be  on  his  guard  against  danger  with  the  words  "  Vigilas 
ne  deum  gens  ?  Aenea,  vigila  I  "5  she  recalls  the  imposing  ceremony 
by  which,  immediately  before  a  war  was  begun,  the  general 
struck  with  his  lance  the  sacred  shields,  calling  on  the  god 
"  Mars,  vigila  /  *     These  and  a  thousand  other  allusions  caused 

1  Aen.  xii.  882.  •  lb.  xii.  192. 

»  See  Macr.  Sat.  i.  24,  11. 

4  Boissier,  from  whom  this  is  taken,  adduces  other  instances.  I  quote  an 
interesting  note  of  his  (Rel.  Eom.  p.  261) :  Cepenclant,  quelqucs  difficiles  trou~ 
vaient  que  Virgile  sitait  quelquefois  trompe".  On  lui  reprochait  d 'avoir  fail 
immoler  par  Enee  un  taureau  a  Jupiter  quand  xl  sarrUe  dans  la  Thrace  et, 
yfonde  une  ville,  et  selon  Atexus  Capita  et  LaMon,  les  lumiercs  du  droit  pon- 
tifical, c'etait  presqu'un  sacrilege.  Voila  done,  dit-on,  votre  pontife  qui 
ignore  ce  que  savent  mime  les  sacristans  J  Mais  on  peut  repondre  que  yricisi' 
merit  le  sacrifice  en  question  rtest.  pas  acceptable  des  dieux,  et  qiCils  forceni 
bientdt  ]£nee  par  de  presages  redoubtables,  &  s Eloigner  de  ce  pays.  Ainsi  en 
tupposant  que  la  science  pontificale  d'Enee  wit  en  di/autt  la  riputaiim\  <k 
Virgile  reste  sans  tache.* 

•  Aen.  x.  288. 


272         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

many  of  the  later  commentators  to  regard  Aeneas  as  an  impersona 
toon  of  the  pontificate.  This  is  an  error  analagous  to,  but  wore* 
than,  that  which  makes  him  represent  Augustus ;  he  is  a  poetical 
creation,  imperfect  no  doubt,  but  still  not  to  be  tied  to  any 
single  definition. 

Passing  from  the  religious  to  the  moral  aspect  of  the  Aeneid, 
we  find  a  gentleness  beaming  through  it,  strangely  contradicted  by 
some  of  the  bloody  episodes,  which  out  of  deference  to  Homeric 
precedent  Virgil  interweaves.  Such  are  the  human  sacrifices,  the 
ferocious  taunts  at  fallen  enemies,  and  other  instances  of  boasting 
or  cruelty  which  will  occur  to  every  reader,  greatly  marring  the 
artistic  as  well  as  the  moral  effect  of  the  hero.  Tame  as  he  gene 
rally  is,  a  resigned  instrument  in  the  divine  hands,  there  are 
moments  when  Aeneas  is  truly  attractive.  As  Conington  says, 
his  kindly  interest  in  the  young  shown  in  Book  V.  is  a  beautiful 
trait  that  is  all  Virgil's  own.  His  happy  interview  with  Evander, 
where,  throwing  off  the  monarch,  he  chats  like  a  Roman  burgess 
in  his  country  house;  his  pity  for  young  Lausus  whom  he  slays, 
and  the  mournful  tribute  of  affection  he  pays  to  Pallas,  are  touch- 
ing scenes,  which  without  presenting  Aeneas  as  a  hero  \  .vhich  he 
never  is),  harmonise  far  better  with  the  ideal  Virgil  meant  to  leave 
us.  But  after  all  said,  that  ideal  is  a  poor  one  for  purposes  of 
poetry.  Aeneas  is  uninteresting,  and  this  is  the  great  fault  of  the 
poem.  Turnus  enlists  our  sympathy  far  more,  he  is  chivalrous 
and  valiant;  the  wrong  he  suffers  does  not  harden  him,  but  he 
lacks  strength  of  character.  The  only  personage  who  is  "  proudly 
conceived  ni  is  Mezentius,  the  despiser  of  the  gods.  The  absence 
of  restraint  seems  to  have  given  the  poet  a  more  masculine  touch ; 
the  address  of  the  old  king  to  his  horse,  his  only  friend,  is  full  of 
pathos.  Among  female  characters  Camilla  is  perhaps  original; 
she  is  graceful  without  being  pleasing.  Amata  and  Juturna  belong 
to  the  class  virago,  a  term  applied  to  the  latter  by  Virgil  himself.2 
Lavinia  is  the  modest  maiden,  a  sketch,  not  a  portrait.  Dido  is  a 
character  for  all  time,  the  chef  d'oeuvre  of  the  Aeneid.  Among 
the  stately  ladies  of  the  imperial  house — a  Livia,  a  Scribonia,  an 
Octavia,  perhaps  a  Julia — Virgil  must  have  found  the  elements 
which  he  has  fused  with  such  mighty  power,3  the  rich  beauty,  the 
fierce  passion,  the  fixed  resolve.  Dido  is  his  greatest  effort :  and 
yet  she  is  not  an  individual  living  woman  like  Helen  or  Ophelia 

1  "  FUrcment  dessind."    The  expression  is  Chateaubriand's. 

1  xii.  468. 

*  The  reader  is  referred  to  a  bock  by  M.  de  Bury,  "  Les  femmes  da 
temps  cT August*  "  where  there  are  vivid  sketches  of  Cleopatra,  Livia,  and 
Julia 


RELATION  OF  THE  AENEID  TO  PRECEDING  POETRY.   273 

Like  Eacine,  Virgil  has  developed  passions,  not  created  persons. 
The  divine  gift  of  tender,  almost  Christian,  feeling  that  is  his, 
cannot  see  into  those  depths  where  the  inner  personality  lies 
hidden.  Among  the  traditional  characters  few  call  for  remark. 
The  gods  maintain  on  the  whole  their  Homeric  attributes,  only 
hardened  by  time  and  by  a  Eoman  moulding.  Venus  is,  however, 
touched  with  magic  skill;  it  may  be  questioned  whether  words 
ever  carried  such  suggestions  of  surpassing  beauty  as  those  in 
which,  twice  in  the  poem,  her  mystic  form1  is  veiled  rather  than 
pourtrayed.  The  characters  of  Ulysses  and  Helen  bear  the 
debased,  unheroic  stamp  of  the  later  Greek  drama ;  the  last  spark 
of  goodness  has  left  them,  and  even  his  careful  study  of  Homer 
seems  to  have  had  no  effect  in  opening  the  poet's  eyes  to  the  gross 
falsification.  Where  Virgil  did  not  feel  obliged  to  create,  he  was 
to  the  last  degree  conventional. 

A  most  interesting  feature  in  the  Aeneid — and  with  it  we  con- 
clude our  sketch — is  its  incorporation  of  all  that  was  best  in  pre- 
ceding poetry.  All  Eoman  poets  had  imitated,  but  Virgil  carried 
imitation  to  an  extent  hitherto  unknown.  Not  only  Greek  but 
Latin  writers  are  laid  under  contribution  in  every  page.  Some 
idea  of  his  indebtedness  to  Homer  may  be  formed  from  Coning- 
ton's  commentary.  Sophocles  and  the  other  tragedians,  Apollonius 
Ehodius  and  the  Alexandrines  are  continually  imitated,  and  almost 
always  improved  upon.  And  still  more  is  this  the  case  with  his 
adaptations  from  Naevius,  Ennius,  Lucretius,  Hostius,  Furius, 
&c.  whose  works  he  had  thoroughly  mastered,  and  stored  in  his 
memory  their  most  striking  rhythms  or  expressions.2  Massive 
lines  from  Ennius,  which  as  a  rule  he  has  spared  to  touch,  leaving 
them  in  all  their  rugged  grandeur  planted  in  the  garden  of  his  verse, 
to  point  back  like  giant  trees  to  the  time  when  that  garden  was  a 
forest,  bear  witness  at  once  to  his  reverence  for  the  old  bard  and 
to  his  own  wondrous  art.  It  is  not  merely  for  literary  effect  that 
the  old  poets  are  transferred  into  his  pages.  A  nobler  motive 
swayed  him.  The  Aeneid  was  meant  to  be,  above  all  things,  a 
National  Poem,  carrying  on  the  lines  of  thought,  the  style  of 
speech,  which  National  Progress  had  chosen;  it  was  not  meant  to 
eclipse  so  much  us  to  do  honour  to  the  early  literature.  Thus 
those  bards  who  like  Naevius  and  Ennius  had  done  good  service  to 
Eome  by  singing,  however  rudely,  her  history,  find  their  Imagines 
ranged  in  the  gallery  of  the  Aeneid.  There  they  meet  with  the 
flamens  and  pontiffs  unknown  and  unnamed,  who  drew  up  the 

1  Aen.  i.  402 ;  ii.  589. 

2  A  list  of  passages  imitated  from  Latin  poets  is  given  in  Macrob.  Sat 
yL,  which  should  be  read. 

S 


274  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

ritual  formularies,  \»ith  the  antiquarians  and  pious  scholars  who 
had  sought  to  find  a  meaning  in  the  immemorial  names,1  whethei 
of  places  or  customs  or  persons;  with  the  magistrates,  moralists, 
and  philosophers,  who  had  striven  to  ennoble  or  enlighten  Roman 
virtue;  with  the  Greek  singers  and  sages,  for  they  too  had  helped 
to  rear  the  towering  fabric  of  Eoman  greatness.  All  these  meet 
together  in  the  Aeneid  as  if  in  solemn  conclave,  to  review  theii 
joint  work,  to  acknowledge  its  final  completion,  and  predict  its 
impending  fall  This  is  beyond  question  the  explanation  of  the 
wholesale  appropriation  of  others'  thought  and  language,  which 
otherwise  would  be  sheer  plagiarism.  With  that  tenacious  sense 
of  national  continuity  which  had  given  the  senate  a  policy  for  cen- 
turies, Virgil  regards  Roman  literature  as  a  gradually  expanded 
whole;  coming  at  the  close  of  its  first  epoch,  he  sums  up  its  results 
and  enters  into  its  labours.  So  far  from  hesitating  whether  to  imi- 
tate, he  rather  hesitated  whom  not  to  include,  if  only  by  a  single 
reference,  in  his  mosaic  of  all  that  had  entered  into  the  history  of 
Rome.  His  archaism  is  but  another  side  of  the  same  thing. 
Whether  it  takes  the  form  of  archaelogical  discussion,2  of  antiquarian 
allusion,3  of  a  mode  of  narration  which  recalls  the  anrient  source,4 
or  of  obsolete  expressions,  forms  of  inflection,  or  poetic<*d  ornament,5 
we  feel  that  it  is  a  sign  of  the  poet's  reverence  for  what  was  at 
once  national  and  old.  The  structure  of  his  verse,  while  full  of 
music,  often  reminds  us  of  the  earlier  writers.  It  certainly  has 
more  affinity  with  that  of  Lucretius  than  with  that  of  Lucan.  A 
learned  Roman  reading  the  Aeneid  would  feel  his  mind  stirred  by 
a  thousand  patriotic  associations.  The  quaint  old  laws,  the  maxims 
and  religious  formula}  he  had  learnt  in  childhood  would  mingle 
with  the  richest  poetry  of  Greece  and  Rome  in  a  stream  flowing 
evenly,  and  as  it  would  seem,  from  a  single  spring;  and  he  who 
by  his  art  had  effected  this  wondrous  union  would  seem  to  him 
the  prophet  as  well  as  the  poet  of  the  era.  That  art,  in  spite  of 
its  occasional  lapses,  for  we  must  not  forget  the  work  was  unfin- 
ished, is  the  most  perfect  the  world  has  yet  seen.  The  poet's 
exquisite  sense  of  beauty,  the  sonorous  language  he  wielded,  the 

1  Such  as  Latium  from  latere,  (Aen.  viii.  322),  and  others,  some  of  which 
may  be  from  Varro  or  other  philologians. 

2  A  few  instances  are,  the  origin  of  Ara  Maxima  (viii.  270),  the  custom 
of  veiled  sacrifices  (iii.  405),  the  Troia  sacra  (v.  600),  &c. 

•  The  pledging  of  Aeneas  by  Dido  (i.  729),  the  god  Portunus  (v.  241). 

4  E.g.  the  allusion  to  the  legandary  origin  of  his  narrative  by  the  prefaca 
Dicitur,  fertur  (iv.  205 ;  ix.  600). 

5  E.  g.olli,  limits,  porgite,  piccai,  &c.  mentem  aminumque,  teque  .  .  .tuocun 
fiumine  sancto;  again,  calido  sanguine,  geminas  acies,  and  a  thousand  other* 

Hia  alliteration  and  assonance  bare  been  noticed  in  a  former  appendix. 


IMITATIONS  OF  VIRGIL. 


275 


noble  rivalry  ul  kindred  spirits  great  enough  to  stimulate  but  no1 
to  daunt  him,  and  the  consciousness  of  living  in  a  new  time  big 
with  triumphs,  as  he  fondly  hoped,  for  the  useful  and  the  good, 
all  united  to  make  Virgil  not  only  the  fairest  flowei  of  Boinan 
literature,  but  as  the  master  of  Dante,  the  beloved  of  all  gentle 
hearts,  and  the  most  widely-read  poet  of  any  age,  to  render  him 
an  influential  contributor  to  some  of  the  deepest  convictions  of 
the  modern  world. 


APPENDIX. 
Note  I. — Imitations  of  Virgil  in  Propertius,  Ovid,  and  Manilius. 


The  prestige  of  Virgil  made  him  a 
subject  for  imitation  even  during  his 
lifetime.  Just  as  Carlyle,  Tennyson, 
and  other  vigorous  writers  soon  create 
a  school,  so  Virgil  stamped  the 
poetical  dialect  for  centuries.  But 
he  offered  two  elements  for  imitation, 
the  declamatory  or  rhetorical,  which 
is  most  prominent  in  his  speeches,  and 
in  the  second  and  sixth  books;  and 
detached  passages  showing  descriptive 
imagery,  touches  of  pathos,  similes, 
&c.  These  last  might  be  imitated 
without  at  all  unduly  influencing  the 
individuality  of  the  imitator's  style. 
In  this  way  Ovid  is  a  great  imitator 
of  Virgil;  so  to  a  less  extent  are  Pro- 
pertius,  Manilius,  and  Lucan.  Sta- 
tius  and  Silius  base  their  whole 
poetical  art  on  him,  and  therefore 
particular  instances  of  imitation 
throw  no  additional  light  on  their 
utyle.  We  shall  here  notice  a  few  of 
the  points  in  w'vich  the 
poets  copied  him : — 

i})^EJr Ftufi — Beside  the  great 
number  of  early  historical  points  on 
which  he  was  followed  implicitly,  we 
find  even  his  errors  imitated,  e.g.  the 
confusion  which  perhaps  in  Virgil  is 
only  apparent  between  Pharsalia  and 
Philippi,  has,  as  Merivale  remarks, 
been  adopted  by  Propertius  (iv.  10,40), 
Ovid  (M.  xv,  824),  Manilius  (i.  906), 
Lucan  (vii.  854),  and  Juvenal  (viii. 
242) ;  not  so  much  from  ignorance  of 
the  locality  as  out  of  deference  to 
Virgilian  precedent.     The  lines  may 


Augustan 


be  quoted— Virgil  (G.  i.  489),  Ergo 
inter  se  paribus  concurrere  telis  Ro- 
in  anas  acies  itcrum  rider  e  Philippi; 
Propertius,  Una  Philippeo  sanguine 
inusta  nota  *  Ovid,  Emathiaque  ite- 
rum  madefient  caede  Philippi;  Ma- 
nilius, Arraa  Philippeos  implerunt 
sanguine  campos.  Vixque  etiam  sicca 
miles  Romanus  arena  Ossa  virum 
lacerpsque  prius  superastitit  artus ; 
Lucan,  Scclcrique  secundo  Praestutis 
nondum  siccos  hoc  sanguine  campos; 
Juvenal,  Thessaliae  campis  Octavius 
oMtulit .  .  .  famam  .  .  .  This  is  analo- 
gous to  the  way  in  which  the  satirists 
use  the  names  consecrated  by  Lu- 
cilius  or  Hurace  as  types  of  a  vice, 
and  repeat  the  same  symptoms  ad 
nauseam,  e  g.  the  miser  who  anoints 
his  body  with  train  oil,  who  loi-ks  up 
his  leavings,  who  picks  up  a  farthing 
from  the  road,  &c.  The  veiled  allusion 
to  the  poet  Anser  (Eel.  ix.  36)  is 
perhaps  recalled  by  Prop.  iii.  32,  83, 
sqq.  So  the  portents  described  by 
Virgil  as  following  on  the  death  of 
Caesar  are  told  again  by  Manilius  at 
the  end  of  Bk.  I.  and  referred  to  by 
Lucan  {Pilars,  i.)  and  Ovid.  Again, 
the  confusion  between  Inarime  and 
€iV  'Apifiois,  into  which  Virgil  falls,  is 
borrowed  by  Lucan  (Phars.  v.  101). 
(2)  In  Metre. — As  regards  metre, 
Ovid  in  the  Mctammphose*  is  nearest 
to  him,  but  differs  in  several  points. 
He  imitates  him — (a)  in  not  admitting 
words  cf  four  or  more  syllables, except 
verv  rarely,  at  the  end  of  the  lire;;  (b) 


s7 


276 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATI  RE. 


in  rhythms  like  vulnificus  sus  (viii. 
^•^8),andthenot  unfrequeiit  <T7roi'5eia- 
Covres  ;  (c)  in  keeping  to  the  two  cae- 
suras as  finally  established  by  him, 
ind  avoiding  beginnings  like  scilicet 
omnibus  |  est,  &c.  In  all  these  points 
Manilius  is  a  little  less  strict  than 
Ovid,  e.g.  (i.  35)  ct  veneranda,  (iii. 
130)  sic  breviantur,  (ii.  716)  attribu- 
untur.  He  also  follows  Virgil  in 
alliteration,  which  Ovid  does  not. 
They  differ  from  Virgil  in — (a)  a  much 
more  sparing  employment  of  elision. 
The  reason  of  this  is  that  elision 
marks  the  period  of  living  growth  ; 
as  soon  as  the  language  had  become 
crystalliseil,  each  letter  had  its  fixed 
force,  the  caprices  of  common  pronun- 
ciation no  longer  influencing  it;  and 
although  no  correct  writer  places  the 
unelided  m  before  a  vowel,  yet  the 
great  rarity  of  elision  not  only  of  m 
but  of  long  and  even  short  vowels 
(except  que)  shows  that  the  main 
object  was  to  avoid  it,  if  possible. 
The  great  frequency  of  elision  in 
Virgil  must  be  regarded  as  an  archa- 
ism, (b)  In  a  much  leaser  variety  of 
rhythm.  This  is,  perhaps,  rather  an 
artistic  defect,  but  it  is  designed. 
Manilius,  however,  has  verses  which 
Virgil  avoids,  e.g.  Delcctique  sacer- 
dotcs  (i.  47),  probably  as  a  remini- 
scence of  Lucretius. 

Imitations  in  language  are  very 
frequent.  Propertius  gives  ahpc.rcat  / 
qui  (i.  17,  13),  from  the  Copa.  Again, 
Sit  licet  et  saxo  patientior  ilia  Sicano 
(i.  16,  29),  from  the  Cyclopia  saxa  of 
Aeneid,  i.  201  ;  cum  tamen  (i.  1,  8) 
with  the  in  lie.  as  twice  in  Virgil ; 


Umbria  me  genuit  (i.  23,  9),  perkapt 
from  the  Mantua  me  genuit  of  Virgil't 
epitaph.  These  might  easily  be 
added  to.  Ovid  in  the  Metamorplwse* 
has  a  vast  number  cf  imitations  of 
which  we  select  the  Host  striking  ; 
Plebs  habitat  diversa  locis  (i.  193), 
Navigat,  hie  summa,  &c.  (i.  296) ;  cf. 
Naviget.  haec  summa  est,  in  the  4th 
Aeneid;  similisqw.  roganti  (iii.  24<>), 
amarunt  me  quoque  Nymphae  (iii. 
454) ;  vale,  vale  inquit  et  Echo  (iiL 
499) ;  Arma  manusque  meae,  mea, 
nate,  potentia,  dixit  (v.  365) ;  Heu 
quantum  haec  Niobe  Niobe  distabat  ab 
ilia  (vi.  273) ;  leti  discrimine  parvo 
(vi.  426) ;  per  nostri  foecUra  lecti, 
perque  dcos  supplex  oro  super  osque 
mcosque,  Per  si  quid  merui  de  te  bene 
(vii.  852)  ;  maiorque  videri  (ix.  269). 
These  striking  resemblances,  which 
are  selected  from  hundreds  of  others, 
show  how  carefully  he  had  studied  him. 
Of  all  other  poets  I  have  noticed 
but  two  or  three  imitations  in  him, 
e.g.  nnulti  ilium  pueri,  multae  cupi- 
ere  puellae  (iii.  388),  from  Catullus; 
et  merito,  quid  enim  .  .  .  ?  (ix.  585) 
from  Propertius  (i.  17).  Manilius 
also  imitates  Virgil's  language,  e.g. 
acuit  mortalia  corda  (i.  79),  Acher- 
unta  movere  (i.  93),  molli  cervice 
rejlexus  (i.  334),  and  his  sentiments 
in  omnia  conando  docilis  solertia  vicit 
(i.  95),  compared  with  labor  omnia 
vicit  improbus :  invictamquc  sub  lire 
tore  Troiam  (i.  766),  with  decumum 
quos  distulit  Hector  in  annum  of  the 
Aeneid  ;  cf.  also  iv.  122,  and  liiora 
litoribus  rcgnis  contraria  regna  (iv. 
814) ;  cf.  also  iv.  28,  37. 


Note  II. — On  the  shortening  of  final  o  in  Latin  poetry 


The  fact  that  in  Latin  the  accent 
▼as  generally  thrown  back  caused 
a  strong  tendency  to  shorten  long 
final  vowels.  The  one  that  resisted 
this  tendency  best  was  o,  but  this 
gradually  became  shorten sd  as  poetry 
advanced,  and  is  one  of  the  very  few 
instances  of  a  departure  from  the 
standard  of  quantity  as  determined 
by  Ennius.     There  is  one  instance 


even  in  him :  Horrida  Romuicvm 
certamina  pango  duellum.  The 
words  ego  and  modo,  which  from  their 
frequent  use  are  often  shortened  in 
the  comedians,  are  generally  long  in 
Ennius ;  Lucretius  uses  thorn  aa 
common,  but  retains  homo,  which 
after  him  does  not  appear.  Catulluf 
has  one  short  o,  VirrQ  (69,  1),  bat 
this  is  a  proper  name.     VirgiJ   hai 


PARALLELISM  IN  HIS  POETRY. 


277 


tcit  (Asn.  iii.  602),  but  ego,  homo, 
when  in  the  arsis,  are  always  elided, 
e.#.  Pulsus  ego?  aut ;  Graius  homo, 
infecios.  Spondeo  which  used  to  be 
lead  (A en.  ix.  294),  fa  now  changed 
to  sponde.  Pollio  is  elided  by  Virgil, 
shortened  by  Horace  (0.  II.  i.  14). 
He  also  has  msntiS  and  dixero  in  the 
Satires  (1.  iv.  93,  104).  A  line  by 
Maecenas,  quoted  in  Suetonius,  has 
diligS.  Ovid  has  citd,  putO  (Am.  iii. 
vii.  2),  but  only  in  such  short  words  ; 
in  nouns,  Nasd  often,  origft,  virgo, 
once  each.  Tibullus  and  Propertius 
are  stricter  in  this  respect,  though 
Propertius  has  findo  (iii.  oriv.  8  or  9, 
85)  ;  Manilius  has  led,  VirgS  (i.  266), 
Lucan  Virgo*  (ii.  329),  pulmd  (iii. 
644),  and  a  few  others.     Gratius  first 


gives  the  imperative  reponiW  (Cyn. 
56);  Calpurnius,  in  the  the  time  of 
Nero,  the  false  quantities  quandi 
ambd,  the  latter  (ix.  17)  perhaps  in 
a  spurious  eclogue  ;  so  expects.  In 
Statins  no  new  licenses  appear 
Juvenal,  however,  gives  vigilandS  (iii. 
232),  an  improper  quantity  repeated 
by  Seneca  (Tro.  264)  vinccndS, 
Kemesianus  (viii.  53)  mulcendS,  (ix. 
80),  laudandti.  Juvenal  gives  also 
sumito,  octd,  erg6.  The  dat.  and 
abl.  sing,  are  the  only  terminations 
that  were  not  affected.  We  see  the 
gradual  deterioration  of  quantity, 
and  are  not  surprised  that  even 
before  the  time  of  Claudian  a  strict 
knowledge  of  it  was  confined  to  the 
most  learned  poets. 


Note  III. — On  parallelism  in  VirgiYs  poetry. 


There  is  a  very  frequent  feature  in  [ 
Yirgil's  poetry  which  we  may  com- 
pare to  the  parallelism  well  known 
as  the  chief  characteristic  of  Hebrew 
verse.  In  that  language  the  poet 
takes  a  thought  and  either  repeats  it, 
or  varies  it,  or  explains  it,  or  gives  its 
antithesis  in  a  corresponding  clause, 
as  evenly  as  may  be  balancing  the 
first.     As  examples  we  may  take — 

(1)  A  mere  iteration: 

**  Why  do  the  nations  so  furiously  rage  to- 
gether? 
And  "why  do  the  people  imagine  a  rain 
thing?" 

(2)  Contrast : 

44  A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  father: 
But  a  foolish  son  is  the  heaviness  of  his 
mother." 

This  somewhat  rude  idea  of  ornament 
is  drawn  no  doubt  from  the  simplest 
attempts  to  speak  with  passion  or 
emphasis,  which  naturally  turned  to 
iteration  or  repetition  as  the  ob/icJS 
means  of  gaining  the  effect.  Roman 
poetry,  as  we  have  already  said,  rests 
upon  a  primitive  and  rude  basis,  the 
Greek  methods  of  composition  being 
applied  to  an  art  arrested  before  its 
growth  was  complete.  The  fondness 
for  repetition  is  very  prominent. 
Phrases  like  scmnc  gravidi  vinoque 
tepulti;    indu    foro    lalo,    sanctoque 


senatu,  occur  commonly  in  Ennius  ; 
and  the  trick  of  composition  of  which 
they  are  the  simplest  instances,  is  per- 
petuated throughout  Roman  poetry. 
It  is  in  reality  rather  rhetorical  than 
poetical,  and  abounds  in  Cicero.  It 
scarcely  occurs  in  Greek  poetry,  but 
is  very  common  in  Virgil,  e.g. : 

44  Ambo  florentcs  aetatibus,  Arcades  ambo, 
Et  cantare  pares,  et  respondere  parati." 

Similar  to  this  is  the  introduction  ol 

corresponding  clauses  by  the  same 

initial  word,  e.g.  ille  (Eel.  i.  17): 

44  Nam  que  erit  ille  mini  semper  deus:  illitu 
aram 
Sacpe  tener  nostris  ab  ovilibus  imbuetagnus. 
Ille  meas  errare  boves  ..." 

Instances  of  this   construction   will 

occur  to  every   reader.     Frequently 

the  first  half  of  the  hexameter  ex 

presses  a  thought  obscurely  which  ig 

expressed  clearly  in  the  latter  half, ' 

or  vice  versa,  e.g.  (G.  iv.  103) : 

44  At  quum  incerta  volant,  caeluque  examinr 
ludunt." 

Again  (Aen.  iv.  368) : 

44 Nun  quid  dissimulo,  aut  quae  me  ad  maioro 
reservo  ?  " 

at    times    this    parallelism    is   very 

useful  as  helping  us  to  find  out  the 

poet's  meaning,  e.g.  (Aen.  ii.  121): 

"Cui  fata  parent,  quern  poscat  Apollo.'' 

Here    interpretations    vary  between 


273 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


fata,  n.  to  parent,  and  ace.  after  it. 

Hut  the  parallelism  decides  at  once 

in  favour  of  the  former  "  for  whom 

the  fates   are  making  preparations  ; 

whom   Apollo  demands."     To  take 

another  instance  (A en.  i.  395) : 

"  Nunc  terras  ordine  longo 
Ant    capere,   nut    captas,    lam    despectare 
Tidentur." 

This    passage    is    explained    by   its 

parallelism     with     another    a    little 

further  on  (v.  400): 

"  Puppesque  tuae  plebesque  tuorum 
Aut  portum  tenet  aut  pleno  subit  ostia  velo." 

Here  the  word  capere  is  fixed  to  mean 

" settling  on   the  ground"   by   the 

words  portum  tenet.     Ouce  more  in 

Aen.  xii.  725 : 

"  Quern  damnet  labor,  aut  quo  vergat  pondere 
letuin," 

the  difficult}''  is  solved  both  by  the 
iteration  in  the  line  itself,  by  which 
damnet  labor  —  vergat  letum;  and  also 


by  its  close  parallelism  with  another  (▼. 
717),  which  is  meant  to  illustrate  it'. 

"  Mussantque  iuvencae 
Quia  nemori  impevitet  quern  tota  Armenia 
sequantur." 

This  feature  in  Virgil's  verse,  which 
might  be  illustrated  at  far  greater 
length,  reappears  under  another  form 
in  the  Ovidian  elegiac.  There  the 
pentameter  answers  to  the  second 
half  of  Virgil's  hexameter  verse,  and 
rings  the  changes  on  the  line  that 
has  preceded  in  a  very  similar  way. 
A  literature  which  loves  the  balanced 
clauses  of  rhetoric  will  be  sure  to 
have  something  analogous.  Our  own 
heroic  couplet  is  a  case  in  point.  So 
perhaps  is  the  invention  of  rhyme 
which  tends  to  confine  the  thought 
within  the  oscillating  limits  of  a 
refrain,  and  that  of  the  stanza,  which 
shows  the  same  process  in  a  much 
higher  stage  of  complexity. 


Note  IV. — On  the  Legends  connected  with  Virgil. 


Side  by  side  with  the  historical 
account  of  this  poet  is  a  mythical 
one  which,  even  within  the  early  post- 
classical  period,  began  to  ^ain  credence. 
The  reasons  of  it  are  to  be  sought 
not  so  much  in  his  poetical  genius  as 
in  the  almost  ascetic  purity  of  his 
life,  which  surrounded  him  with  a  halo 
of  mysterious  sanctity.  Prodigies  are 
said,  in  the  lives  that  have  come 
down  to  us,  to  have  happened  at  his 
birth  ;  his  mother  dreamt  she  gave 
birth  to  a  laurel-branch,  which  grew 
apace  until  it  filled  the  country.  A 
poplar  planted  at  his  birth  suddenly 
grew  into  a  stately  tree.  The  infant 
never  cried,  and  was  noted  for  the 
preternatural  sweetness  of  its  temper. 
When  at  Naples  he  is  said  to  have 
studied  medicine,  and  cured  Augus- 
tus's horses  of  a  severe  ailment. 
Augustus  ordered  him  a  daily  allow- 
ables of  bread,  which  was  doubled  on 
a  second  instance  of  his  chirurgical 
knowledge,  and  trebled  on  his  detect- 
ing the  true  ancestry  of  a  rare  Spanish 
hound !  Credited  with  supernatural 
knowledge,  though  he  never  pre- 
tended to  it,  he  was  consulted  pri- 


vately by  Augustus  as  to  his  own 
legitimacy.  By  the  cautious  dexterity 
of  his  answer,  he  so  pleased  the 
emperor  that  he  at  once  recommended 
him  to  Pollio  as  a  person  to  be  well 
rewarded.  The  mixture  of  fable  and 
history  here  is  easily  observed.  The 
custom  of  making  pilgrimages  to  his 
tomb,  and  in  the  case  of  Silius  Ituli- 
cus  (and  doubtless  others  too),  of 
honouring  it  with  sacrifices,  seems 
to  have  produced  the  belief  that  he 
was  a  great  magician.  Even  as  early 
as  Hadrian  the  Sortes  Virgilianae 
were  consulted  from  an  idea  that 
there  was  a  sanctity  about  the  pages 
of  his  bock ;  and,  as  is  well  known, 
this  superstitious  custom  was  con- 
tinued until  comparatively  modern 
times. 

Meanwhile  plays  were  represented 
from  his  works,  and  amid  the  general 
decay  of  all  clear  knowledge  a  con- 
fused idea  sprung  up  that  these  stories 
were  inspired  by  supernatural  wis- 
dom. The  supposed  connection  of 
the  fourth  Eclogue  with  the  Sibyllins 
Books,  and  through  them,  with  tht 
sacred  wisdom  of  the  Hebrews,  of 


LEGENDS  CONNECTED  WITH  VIRGIL. 


279 


course  placed  "Virgil  on  a  different 
lpvel  from  other  heathens.  The  old 
hymn,  "Dies  irae  dies  ilia  Solvet 
saeelum  cum  favilla  Teste  David  cum 
Sibylla,"  shows  that  as  early  as  the 
eighth  century  the  Sibyl  was  well 
tstablished  as  one  of  the  prophetic 
witnesses  ;  and  the  poet,  from  the 
indulgence  of  an  obscure  style,  reaped 
the  great  reward  of  being  regarded 
almost  as  a  saint  for  several  centuries 
of  Christendom.  Dante  calls  him 
Virtu  summa,  just  as  ages  before 
Justinian  had  spoken  of  Homer  as 
pater  omnis  virtutis.  But  before 
Dante's  time  the  real  Virgil  had  been 
completely  lost  in  the  ideal  and 
mystic  poet  whose  works  were  re- 
garded as  wholly  allegorical. 

The  conception  of  Virgil  as  a  magi- 
cian as  distinct  from  an  inspired  sage 
is  no  doubt  a  popular  one  independent 
of  literature 
local 


oris 


i  and  had  originally  a 
&in  near  Naples  where  his 
tomb  was.  Foreign  visitors  dissemi- 
nated the  legend,  adding  striking 
features,  which  in  time  developed 
almost  an  entire  literature. 

In  the  Otia  Imperialia  of  Gervasius 
of  Tilbury,  we  see  this  belief  in  for- 
mation ;  the  main  point  in  that  work 
is  that  he  is  the  protector  of  Naples, 
defending  it  by  various  contrivances 
from  war  or  pestilence.  He  was 
familiarly  spoken  of  among  the  Nea- 
politans as  Parthenias,  in  allusion  to 
his  chastity.  It  was  probably  in  the 
thirteenth  century  that  the  connec- 
tion of  Virgil  with  the  Sibyl  was  first 
systematically  taught,  and  the  legends 
connected  w'th  him  collected  into 
one  focus.  They  will  be  found  treated 
fciUy  in  Professor  Comjxuretti's  work. 


"We  append  here  a  very  short  passage 
from  the  Gcsta  Romanorum  (p.  590), 
showing  the  necromantic  character 
which  surrounded  him  : — 

M  Refert  Alexander  Philosophus  de 
natura  rerum,  quod  Vergilius  in  civi- 
tate  Romana  nobile  construxit  pala- 
tium,  in  cuius  medio  palatii  stabat 
imago,  quae  Dea  Romana  vocabatnr. 
Tenebat  enim  pomum  aureum  in 
manu  sua.  Per  circulum  palatii 
erant  imagines  cniuslibet  regionis, 
quae  subiectae  erant  Romano  imperio, 
et  quaelibet  imago  campanam  lig- 
neam  in  manu  sua  habebat.  Cum 
vero  aliqua  regio  nitebatur  Romania 
insidias  aliquas  imponere,  statira 
imago  eiusdem  regionis  campanam 
suam  pulsavit,  et  miles  exivit  in  equo 
aeneo  in  summitate  predicti  palatii, 
hastam  vibravit,  et  predictam  re- 
gionem  inspexit.  Et  ab  instanti 
Romani  hoc  videntes  se  armaverunt 
et  predictam  regionem  expugna- 
verunt. 

' '  Ista  ci  vitas  est  Corpus  Humanum : 
quinque  portae  sunt  quinque  Sensus : 
Palatium  est  Anima  rationalis,  et 
aureum  pomum  Similitudo  cum  Deo. 
Tria  regna  inimica  sunt  Caro,  Mun- 
dus,  Diabolus,  et  eius  imago  Cupi- 
ditas,  Voluptas,  Superbia." 

The  above  is  a  good  instance  both 
of  the  supernatural  powers  attributed 
to  the  poet,  and  the  supernatural 
interpretation  put  upon  his  supposed 
exercise  of  them.  This  curious 
mythology  lasted  throughout  the 
fourteenth  century,  wras  vehemently 
opposed  in  the  fifteenth  by  the  par- 
tisans of  enlightened  learning,  and 
had  not  quite  died  out  by  the  middlt 
ot  the  sixteenth. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Horace  (65-8  b.c). 

If  Virgil  is  the  most  representative,  Horace  is  the  most  original 
poet  of  Home.  This  great  and  varied  genius,  whose  exquisite 
taste  and  deep  knowledge  of  the  world  have  made  him  the  chosen 
companion  of  many  a  great  soldier  and  statesman,  suggesting  as 
he  does  reflections  neither  too  ideal  nor  too  exclusively  literary 
for  men  of  affairs,  was  born  at  or  near  Venusia,  on  the  borders  of 
Lucania  and  Apulia,  December  8,  65  B.C.1  His  father  was  a 
freedman  of  the  Horatia  gens,2  but  set  free  before  the  poet's 
birth.3  "We  infer  that  he  was  a  tax-gatherer,  or  perhaps  a  collector 
of  payments  at  auctions ;  for  the  word  coactor*  which  Horace  uses, 
is  of  wide  application.  At  any  rate  his  means  sufficed  to  purchase 
a  small  farm,  where  the  poet  passed  his  childhood.  Horace  was 
able  to  look  back  to  this  time  with  fond  and  even  proud  remini- 
scences, for  he  relates  how  prodigies  marked  him  even  in  infancy 
as  a  special  favourite  of  the  gods.5  At  the  age  of  twelve  he  was 
brought  by  his  father  to  Ronie  and  placed  under  the  care  of  the 
celebrated  Orbilius  Pupillus.6  The  poet's  filial  feeling  has  left  us 
a  beautiful  testimony  to  his  father's  affectionate  interest  in  his 
studies.  The  good  man,  proud  of  his  son's  talent,  but  fearing  the 
corruptions  of  the  city,  accompanied  him  every  day  to  school,  and 
consigned  him  in  person  to  his  preceptor's  charge,7  a  duty  usually 
left  to  slaves  called  paedagogi,  who  appear  to  have  borne  no  high 
character  for  honesty,8  and  at  best  did  nothing  to  improve  those 
of  whom  they  had  the  care.  From  the  shrewd  counsels  of  hit 
father,  who  taught  by  instances  not  by  maxims,9  and  by  his  own 
strict  example,  Horace  imbibed  that  habit  of  keen  observation  and 

1  In  the  consulship  of  L.  Aurelius  Cotta  and  L.  Manlius  Torquatue.     "  6 
nate  mecum  consule  Manlio"  Oil.  III.  xxi.  1 ;  Epod  xiii.  6. 

2  Libertino  patre  natum,  Sat.  I.  vi.  46. 

*  Natus  dvm  ingenuus,  ib.  v.  8.  *  Sat.  I.  vi.  8<J 
■  Mefabulosae  Vulture  in  Apulo,  &e. ;  Od.  iii.  4,  9. 

•  Ep.  II.  i.  71.         7  S.  I.  vi.  8.         8  Juv.  vii.  218.        »  Sat.  I.  iv.  113 


LIFE  OF  HORACE.  281 

that  genial  view  of  life  which  distinguish  him  ahove  all  other 
Batirists.  He  also  learnt  the  caution  which  enabled  him  to  steer 
his  course  among  rocks  and  shoals  that  would  have  wrecked  a 
novice,  and  to  assert  his  independence  of  action  with  success  even 
against  the  emperor  himself. 

The  life  of  Horace  is  so  well  known  that  it  is  needless  to  retrace 
it  here.  We  shall  do  no  more  than  summarise  the  few  leading 
events  in  it,  alluding  more  particularly  to  those  only  which  affect 
his  literary  position.  After  completing  his  education  so  far  in  the 
capital,  he  went  for  a  time,  as  was  customary,  to  study  philosophy 
at  Athens.1  While  he  was  there  the  death  of  Caesar  and  the 
events  which  followed  roused  the  fierce  party  spirit  that  had 
uneasily  slumbered.  Horace,  then  twenty-two  years  of  age,  was 
offered  a  command  by  Erutus  on  his  way  to  Macedonia,  which  he 
accepted,2  and  apparently  must  have  seen  some  hard  service.3  He 
shared  the  defeat  of  the  Republicans  at  Philippi,4  and  as  the 
territory  of  Yenusium,  like  that  of  Cremona,  was  selected  to  bo 
parcelled  out  among  the  soldiery,  Horace  was  deprived  of  his 
paternal  estate,5  a  fact  from  which  we  learn  incidentally  that  his 
father  was  now  dead. 

Thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  he  sought  and  obtained  per- 
mission to  come  to  Rome,  where  he  obtained  some  small  post  as  a 
notary6  attached  to  the  quaestors.  Poverty  drove  him  to  verse- 
making,7  but  of  what  kind  we  do  not  certainly  know.  Probably 
epodes  and  satires  were  the  first  fruits  of  his  pen,  though  some 
scholars  ascribe  certain  of  the  Odes  (e.g.  i.  14)  to  this  period. 
About  this  time  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Virgil,  which  ripened 
at  least  on  Horace's  part  into  warm  affection.  Virgil  and  Variug 
introduced  him  to  Maecenas,8  who  received  the  bashfid  poet  with 
distant  hauteur,  and  did  not  again  send  for  him  until  nine  montha 
had  elapsed.  Slow  to  make  up  his  mind,  but  prompt  to  act  when 
his  decision  was  once  taken,  Maecenas  then  called  for  Horace, 
and  in  the  poet's  words  bade  him  be  reckoned  among  his  friends;' 

1  EP.  IT.  ii.  43. 

2  Quae  mihipareret  lejio  Romana  tribuno,  Sat.  I.  vi„  48. 

•  0  saepe  mecum  ton-pus  in  ultimum  deducte,  CM.  II.  vii.  1. 

•  lb.  5.  6  Ep.  II.  ii.  51. 

•  Sue  ton.  Vit.  Hor. ;  cf.  Sat.  II.  vi.  37,  De  re  communi  scribae  U  cra« 
bvnt  .  .   .  nvertii 

7  Ep.  ii.  2,  51.  8  S.  I.  vi.  55. 

9  lubcsqruc  esse  in  amicorum  numero. — lb.  This  expression  is  important, 
Bincc  many  scholars  have  found  a  difficulty  in  Horace's  accompanying  Mae- 
cenas so  soon  after  his  accession  to  his  circle,  and  have  supposed  that  Sat.  I.  v, 
refers  to  another  expedition  to  Brundisium,  undertaken  two  years  later, 
This  is  precluded,  however,  by  the  mention  of  Cocceius  Nerva. 


282  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE, 

and  very  shortly  afterwards  we  find  them  travelling  together  U 
Brundisium  on  a  footing  of  familiar  intimacy  (39  b.c).  This  eir. 
cumspection  of  Maecenas  was  only  natural,  for  Horace  was  of  a 
very  different  stamp  from  Varius  and  Virgil,  who  were  warm 
admirers  of  Octavius.  Horace,  though  at  first  a  Platonist,1 
then  an  Epicurean,2  then  an  Eclectic,  was  always  somewhat  of  a 
"free  lance/'3  His  mind  was  of  that  independent  mould  which 
can  nover  be  got  to  accept  on  anybody's  authority  the  solution  of 
problems  which  interest  it.  Even  when  reason  convinced  him 
that  imperialism,  if  not  good  in  itself,  was  the  least  of  all  possible 
evils,  ho  did  not  become  a  hearty  partisan;  he  maintained  from 
first  to  last  a  more  or  less  critical  attitude.  Thus  Maecenas  may 
have  heard  of  his  literary  promise,  of  his  high  character,  without 
much  concern.  It  was  the  paramount  importance  of  enlisting  so 
able  a  man  on  his  own  side  that  weighed  with  the  shrewd  states- 
man. For  Horace,  with  the  recklessness  that  poverty  inspires, 
had  shown  a  disposition  to  attack  those  in  power.  It  is  generally 
thought  that  Maecenas  himself  is  ridiculed  under  the  name 
Malthinus.4  It  is  nevertheless  clear  that  when  he  knew  Maecenas 
he  not  only  formed  a  high  opinion  of  his  character  and  talent,  but 
felt  a  deep  affection  for  him,  which  expresses  itself  in  the  generous 
language  of  an  equal  friend,  with  great  respect,  indeed,  but  totally 
without  unworthy  complaisance.  The  minister  of  monarchy 
might  without  inconsistency  gain  his  goodwill;  with  the  monarch 
it  was  a  different  matter.  For  many  years  Horace  held  aloof  from 
Augustus.  He  made  no  application  to  him  ;  he  addressed  to  him 
no  panegyric.  Until  the  year  29,  when  the  Temple  of  Janus  was 
closed,  he  showed  no  approval  of  his  measures.  All  his  laudatory 
odes  were  written  after  that  event.  He  indeed  permitted  the 
emperor  to  make  advances  to  him,  to  invite  him  to  his  table,  and 
maintain  a  friendly  correspondence.  But  he  refused  the  office  of 
eecretary  which  Augustus  pressed  upon  him.  He  scrupulously 
abstained  from  pressing  his  claims  of  intimacy,  as  the  emperor 
wished  him  to  do;  and  at  last  he  drew  forth  from  him  the 
remorseful  expostulation,  "  Why  is  it  that  you  avoid  addressing 
me  of  all  men  in  your  poems  1  Is  it  that  you  are  afraid  posterity 
Tiill  think  the  worse  of  you  for  having  been  a  friend  of  mine?* 

1  S.  ii.  3.  11.  «  Ep.  I.  vi.  16. 

*.  Nullius  a&dictus  iurare  in  verba  magistri,  Ep.  I.  i.  14. 

4  S.  I.  ii.  25. 

8  Suet.  Vit.  Hor.  Fragments  of  four  letters  are  preserved.  One  to  Mae- 
fenas,  "  Ante  ipse  su Jjiciebam  scribendis  epistolis  amicorum;  nunc  occupatis* 
timus  et  infirmus,  fforatiwi,  nostrum  te  cupio  adchicere.  Veniet  igiur  ah 
ista  parasitica  mcnsa  ad  hanc  rcgiam.  et  nos  in  epistolis  scribendis  adiuvabit.* 
Observe  the  future  tense,  the  confidence  that  his  wish  will  not  be  disputei 


LIFE  OF  HORACE.  283 

Ttifs  appeal  elicited  from  the  poet  that  excellent  epistle  which 
traces  the  history  and  criticises  the  merits  of  Latin  poetry.  From 
all  this  we  may  he  sure  that  when  Augustus's  measures  are  cele- 
brated, as  they  are  in  the  third  book  of  the  Odes  and  other  places, 
with  emphatic  commendation,  though  the  language  may  be  that  of 
poetical  exaggeration,  the  sentiment  is  in  the  main  sincere.  It  is 
a  greater  honour  to  the  prudent  ruler  to  have  won  the  tardy 
approval  of  Horace,  than  to  have  enlisted  from  the  outset  the 
enthusiastic  devotion  of  Virgil. 

We  left  Horace  installed  as  one  of  Maecenas's  circle.  This 
position  naturally  gained  him  many  enemies;  nor  was  his  char- 
acter one  to  conciliate  his  less  fortunate  rivals.  He  was  choleric 
and  sensitive,  prompt  to  resent  an  insult,  though  quite  free  from 
malice  or  vindictiveness.  He  had  not  yet  reached  that  high  sense 
of  his  position  when  he  could  afford  to  treat  the  envious  crowd 
with  contempt.1  He  records  in  the  satires  which  he  now  wrote, 
painting  with  inimitable  humour  each  incident  that  arose,  the 
attempts  of  the  outsiders  to  obtain  from  him  an  introduction  to 
Maecenas,2  or  some  of  that  political  information  of  which  he  was 
supposed  to  be  the  confidant.3  At  thi3  period  of  his  career  he 
lived  a  good  deal  with  his  patron  both  in  Borne  and  at  his  Tibur- 
tine  villa.  Within  a  few  years,  however  (probably  31  b.c),  he 
was  put  in  possession  of  what  he  had  always  desired,4  a  small 
competence  of  his  own.  This  was  the  Sabine  estate  in  the  valley 
of  Ustica,  not  far  from  Tivoli,  given  him  by  Maecenas,  the  subject 
of  many  beautiful  allusions,  and  the  cause  of  his  warmest  gratitude.5 
Here  he  resided  during  some  part  of  each  year6  in  the  enjoyment 
of  that  independence  which  was  to  him  the  greatest  good;  and 
during  the  seven  years  that  followed  he  wrote,  and  at  their  close 
published,  the  first  three  books  of  the  Odes.7    The  death  of  Yirgil, 

He  received  to  his  surprise  the  poet's  refusal,  but  to  his  credit  did  not  take 
it  amiss.  He  wrote  to  him,  "  Sume  tibi  aliquid  iuris  apud  me,  tanquam  si 
tonvictor  mihi  fueris;  quoniam  id  usus  mihi  tecum  esse  vohci,  si  per  valetadi- 
nem  tv am  fieri  potuisset."  And  somewhat  later,  "  Tui  qualem  habeam 
memoriam  poteris  ex  Septimio  quoque  nostro  audire;  nam  inciclil,  ut  illo  coram 
fieret  a  me  tui  mentio.  Neque  enim  si  tu  superbus  amicitiam  nostram  sprevisti, 
ideo  nos  quoque  av6uirep<ppovov/jiev.  The  fourth  fragment  is  the  one  translated 
in  the  text. 

1  Qucm  rodunt  omnes  .  .  .  quia  sum  tibi,  Maecenas,  convictor,  S.  I. 
vi.  46.     Contrast  his  tone,  Kp.  I.  xix.  19,  20;  Od.  iv.  3. 

3  Sat.  I.  ix.  »  Sat.  II.  vi.  30,  sqq. 

4  S.  II.  vi.  1.  •  0.  II.  xviii.  14  ;  III.  xvi.  28,  sqq. 

6  The  year  in  which  he  received  the  Sabine  farm  is  disputed.  Some  {e.g. 
Grotefend)  date  it  as  far  back  as  33  B.C. ;  others,  with  more  probability, 
about  31  B.C. 

7  They  were  probably  published  simultaneously  in  23  B.O,  If  we  take 


284  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  literature. 

which  happened  when  Horace  was  forty-six  years  of  agb,  jni  *oo* 
afterwords  that  of  Tibullus,  threw  his  affections  once  more  upon 
his  early  patrons.  He  now  resided  more  frequently  at  I  orae,  and 
was  often  to  be  seen  at  the  palace.  How  he  filled  the  arduout 
position  of  a  courtier  may  be  gathered  from  many  of  the  Epistles 
of  the  first  book.  The  one  which  introduces  Septimus  to  Tiberius 
is  a  masterpiece;1  ai_d  those  to  Scaeva  and  Lollius2  are  models  of 
high-bred  courtesy.  No  one  ever  mingled  compliment  and  advice 
with  such  consummate  skill.  Horace  had  made  his  position  at 
court  for  himself,  and  though  he  still  loved  the  country  best,3  he 
found  both  interest  and  profit  in  his  daily  intercourse  with  the 
great. 

In  the  year  17  b.o.  Augustus  found  an  opportunity  of  testifying 
his  regard  for  Horace.  The  secular  games,  which  were  celebrated 
in  that  year,  included  the  singing  of  a  hymn  to  Apollo  and  Diana 
by  a  chorus  of  27  boys  and  the  same  number  of  girls,  selected  from 
the  highest  families  in  the  state.  The  composition  of  this  hymn 
was  intrusted  to  Horace,  muoh  to  his  own  legitimate  pride,  and  to 
our  instruction  and  pleasure,  for  not  only  is  it  a  poem  of  high 
intrinsic  excellence,  but  it  is  the  only  considerable  extant  speci- 
men of  the  lyrical  part  of  Roman  worship.  Some  scholars  include 
under  it  besides  the  Carmen  Saeculare  proper,  various  other  odes, 
some  of  which  unquestionably  bear  on  the  same  subject,  though 
there  is  no  direct  evidence  of  their  having  been  sung  together.4 
Whether  Horace  had  any  Roman  models  in  this  style  before  him 
is  not  very  clear.  We  have  seen  that  Livius  Andronicus  was 
selected  to  celebrate  the  victory  of  Sena  ;5  and  there  is  an  ode  of 
Catullus6  which  seems  to  refer  to  some  similar  occasion.  Doubt- 
less the  main  lines  in  which  the  composition  moved  were  indicated 
by  custom ;  but  the  treatment  was  left  to  the  individual  genius  of 
the  poet.  In  this  case  we  observe  the  poet's  happy  choice  of  a 
metre.  Of  all  the  varied  lyric  rhythms  none,  at  least  to  our  ears, 
lends  itself  so  readily  to  a  musical  setting  as  the  Sapphic ;  and 
the  many  melodies  attached  to  odes  in  this  metre  by  the  monks  of 
the  Middle  Ages  attest  its  special  adaptability  to  choir-singing. 
Augustus  was  highly  pleased  with  the  poet's  performance,  and  two 
years'  afterwards  he  commanded  him  to  celebrate  the  victory  oi 

the  earlier  date  for  his  possession  of  the  Sabine  farm,  he  will  have  been  neirlj 
ten  years  preparing  them. 

1  Ep.  I.  ix.  2  Ep.  I.  xvii.  and  xviii.  .  *  Ep.  I.  xiv. 

4  The  first  seven  stanzas  of  IV.  6,  with  the  prelude  (TIL  i.  1-4),  are  su|V 
posed  to  have  been  sung  on  the  irst  day;  I.  21  on  the  second;  and.  on  th« 
third  the  C.S.  followed  by  IV.  vi.  28-44. 

•  See  p.  3&  •  C.  xxxii 


LIFE  OF  HORACE.  285 

his  step-sons  Drusus  and  Tiberius  over  tlie  Ehaeti  and  Vindelici.1 
Tin's  circumstance  turned  his  attention  once  more  to  lyric  poetry, 
which  for  six  years  he  had  quite  discontinued.2  It  is  not  conclu- 
sively proved  that  he  wrote  all  the  odes  which  compose  the  fourth 
book  at  this  period ;  two  or  three  bear  the  impress  of  an  earlier 
date,  and  were  doubtless  improved  by  re-writing  or  revision,  but 
the  majority  were  the  production  of  his  later  years,  and  present  to 
us  the  fruits  of  his  matured  judgment  and  taste.  They  show  no 
diminution  of  lyric  power,  but  the  reverse ;  nor  is  there  any  ode 
in  the  first  three  books  which  surpasses  or  even  equals  the  fourth 
poem  in  this  collection.  Horace's  attention  was,  during  the  last 
few  years  of  his  life,  given  chiefly  to  literary  subjects ;  the  treatise 
on  poetry  and  the  epistle  to  Julius  Floras  were  written  probably 
between  14  and  11  b.c.  That  to  Augustus  is  the  last  composition 
that  issued  from  his  pen;  we  may  refer  it  to  10  b.c.  two  years 
before  his  death. 

Horace's  health  had  long  been  the  reverse  of  strong.  Whether 
from  early  delicacy,  or  from  exposure  to  hardships  in  Asia,  his  con- 
stitution was  never  able  to  respond  to  the  demands  made  upon  it  by 
the  society  of  the  capital.  The  weariness  he  expresses  was  often 
the  result  of  physical  prostration.  The  sketch  he  has  left  of  him- 
self3 suggests  a  physique  neither  interesting  nor  vigorous.  He 
was  at  44  short,  fat,  and  good-natured  looking  (rallied,  we  learn, 
by  Augustus  on  his  obesity),  blear-eyed,  somewhat  dyspeptic,  and 
prematurely  grey ;  and  ten  years,  we  may  be  sure,  had  not  im- 
proved the  portrait.  In  the  autumn  of  8  B.C.  Maecenas,  who  had 
long  been  himself  a  sufferer,  succumbed  to  the  effects  of  his  devoted 
and  arduous  service.  His  last  message  confided  Horace  to  the 
Emperor's  care  :  "  Horatii  Flacci  ut  mei  esto  memor."  But  the 
legacy  was  not  long  a  burden.  The  prophetic  anticipations  of  affec- 
tion that  in  death  the  poet  would  not  be  parted  from  his  friend4 
were  only  too  faithfully  realised.  Within  a  month  of  Maecenas's 
death  Horace  was  borne  to  his  rest,  and  his  ashes  were  laid  beside 
those  of  his  patron  on  the  Esquiline  (November  29,  8  B.C.). 

As  regards  the  date  of  publication  of  his  several  books,  several 
theories  have  been  propounded,  for  which  the  student  is  referred 
to  the  many  excellent  editions  of  Horace  that  discuss  the  question. 
We  shall  content  ourselves  with  assigning  those  dates  which  seem 
to  us  the  most  probable.  All  agree  in  considering  the  first  book 
of  the  Satires  to  have  been  his  earliest  effort.  This  may  have  been 
published  in  34  b.c.  ;  and  in  29  b.c.  the  two  books  of  Satires 
together-  and  perhaps  the  Ejpodes.     In  24  s.c.  probably  appeared 

1  Od.  IV.  4,  »  Ep.  I.  i  10. 

»  Ep.  T.  xx.  4  Od.  II.  xvii.  5. 


286  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

♦he  first  two  books  of  Odes,  which  open  and  close  with  a  dedica 
tion  to  Maecenas,  and  in  23  b.c.  the  three  books  of  Odes  complete; 
though  some  suppose  that  all  appeared  at  once  and  for  the  first 
timf;  in  this  later  year.  In  21  b.c.  perhaps,  but  more  probably  in 
20,  the  first  book  of  the  Epistles  was  published ;  in  14  b.c.  the 
fourth  book  of  the  Odes,  though  it  is  possible  that  the  last  ode  of 
that  book  was  written  at  a  later  date.  The  second  book  of 
Epistles,  in  which  may  have  been  included  the  Ars  Poetica,  could 
not  have  appeared  before  10  b.c.  It  is  clear  that  the  latter  poem 
is  not  complete,  but  whether  Horace  intended  to  finish  it  more 
thoroughly  it  is  impossible  to  say. 

In  approaching  the  criticism  of  Horace,  the  first  thing  which 
strikes  us  is,  that  in  him  we  see  two  different  poets.  There  is  the 
lyricist  winning  renown  by  the  importation  of  a  new  kind  of 
Greek  song;  and  there  is  the  observant  critic  and  man  of  the 
world,  entrusting  to  the  tablets,  his  faithful  companions,  his  re- 
flections on  men  and  things.  The  former  poet  ran  his  course 
through  the  Epodes  to  the  graceful  pieces  which  form  the  great 
majority  of  his  odes,  and  culminated  in  the  loftier  vein  of  lyric 
inspiration  that  characterises  his  political  odes.  The  latter  began 
with  a  somewhat  acrimonious  type  of  satire,  which  he  speedily 
deserted  for  a  lighter  and  more  genial  vein,  aud  finally  rested  in 
the  sober,  practical,  and  healthy  moralist  and  literary  critic  of  the 
Epistles.  It  was  in  the  former  aspect  that  he  assumed  the  title  of 
poet ;  with  characteristic  modesty  he  relinquishes  all  claim  to  it 
with  regard  to  his  Epistles  and  Satires.  We  shall  consider  him 
briefiy  under  these  two  aspects. 

No  writer  believed  so  little  in  the  sufficiency  of  the  poetic  giit 
by  itself  to  produce  a  poet  Had  he  trusted  the  maxim  Porta 
nasa'tur,  non  fit,  he  would  never  have  written  his  Odes.  Looking 
back  at  his  early  attempts  at  verse  we  find  in  them  few  traces  of 
genuine  inspiration.  Of  the  Epodes  a  large  number  are  positively 
unpleasing  ;  others  interest  us  from  the  expression  of  true  feeling ; 
a  few  only  have  merits  of  a  high  order.  The  fresh  and  enthusiastic, 
though  somewhat  diffuse,  descriptions  of  country  enjoyments  in 
the  second  and  sixteenth  Epodes,  and  the  vigorous  word-painting  in 
the  fifth,  bespeak  the  future  master;  and  the  patriotic  emotion  in  tho 
seventh,  ninth,  and  sixteenth,  strikes  a  note  that  was  to  thrill  with 
loftier  vibrations  in  the  Odes  of  the  third  and  fourth  books.  But  as  a 
whole  the  Epodes  stand  far  below  his  other  works.  Their  bitter- 
ness is  quite  different  from  the  genial  irony  of  the  Satires,  and, 
though  occasionally  the  subjects  of  them  merited  the  severest  hand* 
li11©*1  ye^  we  do  not  like  to  see  Horaco  applying  the  lash.  It  wat 
1  E.g.  the  infamous  Sextua  Menas  who  is  attaeV  id  in  Ep.  i 


HORACE  AS  A  LYRIC  POET.  287 

not  his  proper  vocation,  and  he  does  not  do  it  well.  He  is  never 
so  unlike  himself  as  when  he  is  making  a  personal  atta  ;k.  Never- 
theless to  bring  himself  into  notice,  it  was  necessary  to  do  some- 
thing of  the  kind.  Personal  satire  is  always  popular,  and  Horace 
had  to  carve  his  own  way  to  fame.  It  is  evident  that  the  series 
of  sketches  of  which  Canidia  is  the  heroine,1  were  received  with 
unanimous  approval  by  the  beau  monde.  This  wretched  woman, 
singled  out  as  the  representative  of  a  class  which  was  gaining  daily 
influence  in  Borne,2  he  depicts  in  colours  detestable  and  ignominious, 
which  do  credit  to  his  talent  but  not  to  his  courteous  feeling. 
Horace  has  no  true  respect  for  woman.  Nothing  in  all  Latin 
poetry  is  so  unpleasant  as  his  brutal  attacks  on  those  hetaerae  (the 
only  ladies  of  whom  he  seems  to  have  had  any  knowledge)  whose 
caprice  or  neglect  had  offended  him.3  This  is  the  one  point  in  which 
he  did  not  improve.  In  all  other  respects  his  constant  self-culture 
opened  to  him  higher  and  ever  widening  paths  of  excellence. 

The  glimpses  of  real  feeling  which  the  Ejpodes  allow  us  to  gain 
are  as  a  rule  carefully  excluded  from  the  Odes.  This  is  at  first 
sight  a  matter  for  surprise.  Our  idea  of  a  lyric  poem  is  that  of  a 
warm  and  passionate  outpouring  of  the  heart.  Such  are  those  of 
Burns ;  such  are  those  of  nearly  all  the  writers  who  have  gained 
the  heart  of  modern  times.  In  the  grand  style  of  dithyrambic 
6ong,  indeed,  the  bard  is  rapt  into  an  ideal  world,  and  soars  far 
beyond  his  subjective  emotions  or  desires ;  but  to  this  Pindaric 
inspiration  Horace  made  no  pretension.  He  was  content  to  be  an 
imitator  of  Alcaeus  and  Sappho,  who  had  attuned  to  the  lyre  their 
own  hopes  and  fears,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  their  own  chequered 
life.  But  in  imitating  their  form  he  has  altogether  changed  their 
spirit.  Where  they  indulged  feeling,  he  has  controlled  it ;  what 
they  effect  by  intensity  of  colour,  he  attains  by  studied  propriety 
of  language.  He  desires  not  to  enlist  the  world  to  sympathy  with 
himself,  but  to  put  himself  in  sympathy  with  the  world.  Hence 
the  many-sidedness,  the  culture,  the  broad  human  stand-point  after 
which  he  ceaselessly  strives.  If  depth  must  be  sacrificed  to  attain 
this,  he  is  ready  to  sacrifice  it.  He  finds  a  field  wide  enough  in 
the  network  of  aims,  interest,  and  feelings,  which  give  society  h> 
hold  on  us,  and  us  our  union  with  society.  And  he  feels  that  the 
writer  who  shall  make  his  poem  speak  with  a  living  voice  to  the 
largest  number  of  these,  will  meet  with  most  earnest  heed,  and  be 

1  Epod.  5  and  17,  and  Sat.  I.  viii. 

*  Epod.  viii.  xii. ;  Od.  iv.  xiii. 

*  The  sorceresses  or  fortune-tellers.  Seme  have  without  any  authority 
iupp'sed  her  to  have  been  a  mistress  of  the  poet's,  whose  real  narte  wm 
Gratidia,  and  with  whom  he  quarrelled. 


288  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

doing  best  the  poet's  true  work.  At  the  same  time  we  must  not 
forget  that  Horace's  public  was  not  our  public.  The  Unwieldy 
mass  of  labouring  millions,  shaken  to  its  depths  by  questionings 
of  momentous  interest,  cannot  be  drawn  to  listen  except  by  an 
emotion  vast  as  its  own ;  but  the  society  for  whom  Horace  wrote 
was  homogeneous  in  tone,  limited  in  number,  cultivated  in  intel- 
lect, and  deeply  absorbed  in  a  race  of  ambition,  some  of  whose  prizes, 
at  least,  each  might  hope  to  win.  He  was,  has  been,  and  intended 
himself  to  be,  the  poet  of  men  of  the  world. 

Among  such  men  at  all  times,  and  to  an  immeasurably  greater 
extent  in  antiquity  than  now,  staunch  friendship  has  been  con- 
sidered one  of  the  chief  of  virtues.  Whatever  were  Horace's 
relations  to  the  other  sex,  no  man  whom  he  had  once  called  a  friend 
had  any  cause  to  complain.  Admirable  indeed  in  their  frankness, 
their  constancy,  their  sterling  independence,  are  the  friendships  it 
has  delighted  him  to  record.  From  the  devoted,  almost  passionate 
tribute  to  Maecenas — 

"  Ibimus  ibimus 

Utcunque  praecedes  su  pre  mum 

Carpere  iter  comites  parati," 

to  the  raillery  bo  gracefully  flung  at  an  Iccius  or  Xanthias,  for 
whom  yet  one  discerns  the  kindest  and  tenderest  feeling,  these 
memorials  of  Roman  intercourse  place  both  giver  and  receiver  in 
a  truly  amiable  light.  We  can  understand  Augustus's  regret  that 
he  had  not  been  honoured  with  a  regard  of  which  he  well  knew 
the  value.  For  the  poet  was  rich  who  could  dispense  gifts  like 
these. 

Interspersed  with  the  love-odes,  addresses  to  friends  and  'pieces 
de  circonstance,  we  observe,  even  in  the  earlier  books,  lyrics  of  a 
more  serious  cast.  Some  are  moral  and  contemplative,  as  the 
grand  ode  to  Fortune 1  and  that  beginning 

"ISTon  elmr  neque  aureum 
Mea  renidet  in  domo  lacunar."* 

Others  are  patriotic  or  political,  as  the  second,  twelfth,  and  thirty 
seventh  of  Book  I.  (the  last  celebrating  the  downfall  of  Cleopatra), 
and  the  fifteenth  of  Book  II.  which  bewails  the  increase  of  luxury. 
In  these  Horace  is  rising  to  the  truly  Roman  conception  that 
poetry,  like  oilier  forces,  should  be  consecrated  to  the  service  oJ 
the  state.  And  now  that  he  could  see  the  inevitable  tendency  of 
things,  could  gauge  the  emperor's  policy  and  find  it  really  advan- 
tageous, he  arose,  no  longer  as  a  half-unwilling  witness,  but  as  a 
zealous  co-operator  to  second  political  by  moral  power.     The  first 

1 1,  xxxv  *  II.  xvii. 


THE  PATRIOTIC  ODES.  289 

six  and  the  twenty-fourth  Odes  of  the  third  book  show  ns  Horace 
not  indeed  at  his  best  as  a  poet,  but  at  his  highest  as  a  writer. 
They  exhibit  a  more  sustained  manliness  of  tone  than  is  perhaps 
to  be  found  in  any  passages  of  equal  length  from  any  other  author. 
Heathen  ethics  have  no  nobler  portrait  than  that  of  the  just  man 
tenacious  of  his  purpose,  with  which  the  third  ode  begins ;  and 
Roman  patriotism  no  grander  witness  than  the  heart-stirring  nar- 
rative of  Eegulus  going  forth  to  Carthage  to  meet  his  doom. 
Whether  or  not  the  third  ode  was  written  to  dissuade  Augustus 
from  his  rumoured  project  of  transferring  the  seat  of  empire  from 
Rome  to  Troy,  it  expresses  most  strongly  the  firm  conviction  of 
those  best  worth  consulting,  and,  if  the  empsror  really  was  in 
doubt,  must,  in  conjunction  with  Tirgil's  emphatic  repetition  of 
the  same  sentiment,1  have  effectually  turned  him  from  his  purpose. 
For  these  odes  carried  great  authority.  In  them  the  poet  appears 
as  the  authorised  voice  of  the  state,  dispensing  verba  et  voces2  "  the 
charm  of  poesy  "  to  allay  the  moral  pestilence  that  is  devouring 
the  people. 

JNo  one  can  read  the  odes  without  being  struck  with  certain 
features  wherein  they  differ  from  his  other  works.  One  of  these 
is  his  constant  employment  of  the  Olympian  mythology.  What- 
ever view  we  may  hold  as  to  their  appearance  in  the  Aeneid,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  Odes  these  deities  have  a  purely 
fictitious  character.  With  the  single  exception  of  Jupiter,  tho 
eternal  Father,  without  second  or  equal  even  among  the  Olympian 
choir,3  whom  he  is  careful  not  to  name,  none  of  his  allusions  imply, 
but  on  the  contrary  implicitly  disown,  any  belief  in  their  existence. 
In  the  satires  and  epistles  he  never  employs  this  conventional 
ornament.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  his  language  to  Augustus. 
Assuming  the  poet's  license,  he  depicts  him  as  the  son  of  Maia,4 
the  scion  of  kindly  deities,5  and  a  living  denizen  of  the  ethereal 
mansions.6  But  in  the  epistles  he  throws  off'  this  adulatory  tone, 
and  accosts  the  Caesar  in  a  way  befitting  their  mutual  relations  ; 
for  in  declaring  that  altars  are  raised  to  him  and  men  swear  by  his 
name,7  he  is  not  using  flattery,  but  stating  a  fact.  Another  point 
of  difference  is  his  fondness  in  the  Odes  for  commonplaces,  e.g. i  ne 


1  Cf.  Troiae  renasccns  alite  lugubri  .  .  .  with  Occidit  occidcritquc  sinas  cum 
wmnnc  Iroia.  In  both  cases  Juno  is  supposed  to  utter  the  sentiment.  Thia 
can  hardh  be  mere  accident. 

3  Ep.  I  i.  33,  Fervct  avaritia  miseroque  cupidine  pectus;  Su:\i  vc-rla  el 
-ooccs  quibus  hunc  I  mire  dolorem  I'ossis. 

8  Od.  1.  xii.  17.  4  Od.  I.  ii.  43. 

6Od.  IV.  v.  1.  «Od.  III.  iii.  9. 

7  Ep.  II.  i.  15. 


290  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

degeneracy  of  the  age,1  the  necessity  of  enjoying  the  moment,* 
which  he  enforces  with  every  variety  of  illustration.  Neither  of 
these  was  the  result  of  genuine  vonviction.  On  the  former  he 
gives  us  his  real  view  (a  very  noble  and  rational  one)  in  the  third 
Satire  of  the  first  book,3  and  in  the  Ars  Poeticay  as  different  as 
possible  from  the  desponding  pessimism  of  ode  and  epode.  And 
the  Epicurean  maxims  which  in  them  he  offers  as  the  sum  of 
wisdom,  are  in  his  Epistle*  exchanged  for  their  direct  opposites  : 4 

"Omnem  crede  diem  tibi  diluxisse  supremuni, 
Spernc  voluptates  ;  nocet  empta  dolore  voluptas." 

It  is  clear  then  that  in  the  Odes,  for  the  most  part,  he  is  an  artist 
not  a  preacher.  We  must  not  look  to  them  for  his  deepest  senti- 
ments, but  for  such,  and  such  only,  as  admitted  an  effective  lyric 
treatment. 

As  regards  their  form,  we  observe  that  they  are  moulded  strictly 
upon  the  Greek,  some  of  those  on  lighter  themes  being  translations 
or  close  imitations.  But  in  naturalising  the  Greek  metres,  he  has 
accommodated  them  with  the  rarest  skill  to  the  harmonies  of  the 
Latin  tongue.  The  Virgilian  movement  differs  not  more  from  the 
Homeric,  than  does  the  Horatian  sapphic  or  alcaic  from  th6 
same  metres  as  treated  by  their  Greek  inventors.  The  success  of 
Horace  may  be  judged  by  comparing  his  stanzas  with  the  sapphics 
of  Catullus  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  alcaics  of  Statius  on  the 
other.  The  former  struggle  under  the  complicated  shackles  of 
Greek  prosody;  the  latter  move  on  the  stilts  of  school-boy  imita- 
tion. In  language  he  is  singularly  choice  without  being  a  purist ; 
agreeably  to  their  naturalised  character  he  has  interspersed  the 
odes  with  Greek  constructions,  some  highly  elegant,  others  a  little 
forced  and  bordering  upon  experiments  on  language.5  The  poetry 
of  his  language  consists  not  so  much  in  its  being  imaginative,  as  in 
its  employing  the  fittest  words  in  the  fittest  places.  Its  general 
level  is  that  of  the  best  epistolary  or  oratorical  compositions, 
according  to  the  elevation  of  the  subject.  He  loves  not  to  soar 
into  the  empyrean,  but  often  checks  Pegasus  by  a  strong  curb, 
or  by  a  touch  of  irony  or  an  incongruous  allusion  prevents 
himself  or   his  reader  being  carried  away.6      This  mingling  of 

1  The  best  instance  is  Od.  III.  vi.  45,  where  it  is  expressed  with  singular 
brevity. 
8  Od.  I.  xi.  among  many  others. 
3  A.  P.  391,  sqq. ;  S.  I.  iii.  99.  4  Ep.  I.  iv.  and  ii.  55. 

5  E.y.  labornm  decijrittir,  Od.  II.  xiii»  38.  The  reader  will  find  them  all  in 
Macleane's  Horace. 

6  The  most  extraordinary  instance  of  this  is  Od.  IV.  iv.  17,  where  in  th« 
very  midst  of  an  exalted  passage,  lie  drags  in  the  following  most  inappro* 


EXCELLENCES  OF  THE  ODES.  291 

irony  and  earnest  is  thoroughly  characteristic  of  his  ger/.us. 
To  men  of  realistic  minds  it  forms  one  of  the  greatest  of  its 
charms. 

Among  the  varied  excellences  of  these  gems  of  poetry,  we  shall 
select  three,  as  those  after  which  Horace  most  evidently  sought. 
They  are  brevity,  ease,  life.  In  the  first  he  La  perhaps  unequalled. 
It  is  not  only  that  what  he  says  is  terse ;  in  what  he  omits  wo 
recognise  the  master  hand.  He  knows  precisely  what  to  mvell 
on,  what  to  hint  at,  what  to  pass  by.  He  is  on  the  best  under- 
standing with  his  reader.  He  knows  the  reader  is  a  busy  man, 
and  he  says — "  Eead  me  !  and,  however  you  may  judge  my  work, 
you  shall  at  least  not  be  bored."  "We  recollect  no  instance  in 
which  Horace  is  prolix  ;  none  in  which  he  can  be  called  obscure ; 
though  there  are  many  passages  that  require  weighing,  and  many 
abrupt  transitions  that  somewhat  task  thought.  In  condensed 
simplicity  he  is  the  first  of  Latin  poets.  Who  that  has  once  heard 
can  forget  such  phrases  as  Nil  desperandum,  splendide  mendax, 
non  omnis  moriar,  dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  patrla  mori,  and  a 
hundred  others  %  His  brevity  is  equalled  by  his  ease.  By  this 
must  not  be  understood  either  spontaneity  of  invention  or  rapidity 
of  execution.  We  know  that  he  was  a  slow,  nay,  a  laborious 
workman.1  But  he  has  the  ars  celare  artem.  What  can  be  more 
natural  than  the  transition  from  the  praises  of  young  Nero  to 
Hannibal's  fine  lament  1 2  from  those  of  Augustus  to  the  speech 
of  Juno1?3  Yet  these  are  effected  with  the  most  subtle  skilL 
And  even  when  the  digression  appears  more  forced,  as  in  the 
well-known  instances  of  Europa4  and  the  Danaides,5  the  incon- 
gruity is  at  once  removed  by  supposing  that  the  legend  in  each 
case  forms  the  main  subject  of  the  poem,  and  that  the  occasional 
introductions  are  a  characteristic  form  of  preamble,  perhaps 
reflected  from  Pindar.  And  once  more  as  to  hi?  liveliness.  This 
is  the  highest  excellence  of  the  Odes.  It  never  flags.  If  the  poet 
does  not  rise  to  an  exalted  inspiration,  he  at  least  never  sinks  into 
heaviness,  never  loses  life.  To  cite  but  one  ode,  in  an  artistic 
point  of  view,  perhaps,  the  jewel  of  the  whole  collection — the 
dialogue  between  the  poet  and  Lydia ; 6  here  is  an  entire  comedy 
played  in  twenty-four  lines,  in  which  the  dialogue  never  becomes 

priate  digression — Quibus  Mos  unde  deductus  per  omne  Tempus  Amazonia 
tecum'  Dextras  obarmet  quacrere  distuli,  Nee  scire  fas  est  omnia.  Many  critics, 
intolerant  of  the  blot,  remove  it  altogether,  disregard ing  MS.  authority. 

1  Ego  apis  Malinae  more  modoque  .  .  .  opei  osa  parvus  carmina  Jingo,  0 1 
IV.  ii.  31. 

a  Od.  IV.  iv.  33.  »  Od.  III.  iii.  17.  4  Od    III.  xxviil 

«Od.  III.  xi.  «Od.  III.  ix. 


292  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  literature. 

insipid,  the  action  never  flags.  Like  all  his  love  odes  it  is  "barrel 
of  deep  feeling,  for  which  reason,  perhaps,  they  have  been  com- 
pared to  scentless  flowers.  But  the  comparison  is  most  unjust 
Aroma,  bouquet:  this  is  precisely  what  they  do  not  lack.  Some 
other  metaphor  must  be  sought  to  embody  the  deficiency  At  the 
same  time  the  want  is  a  real  one ;  and  exquisite  as  are  the  Odes, 
no  one  knew  better  than  their  author  himself  that  they  have  no 
power  to  pierce  the  heart,  or  to  waken,  those  troubled  mudngs 
which  in  their  blending  of  pain  and  pleasure  elevate  into  some- 
thing that  it  was  not  before,  the  whole  being  of  him  that  reads  them. 
The  Satires  and  Epistles  differ  somewhat  in  form,  in  elabora- 
tion, and  in  metrical  treatment,  but  on  the  whole  they  have 
sufficient  resemblance  to  be  considered  together.  The  Horatian 
satire  is  svi  generis.  In  the  familiar  modern  sense  it  is  not 
satire  at  all.  The  censorious  spirit  that  finds  nothing  to  praise, 
everything  to  ridicule,  is  quite  alien  to  Horace.  Neither  Persius 
nor  Juvenal,  Boileau  nor  Pope,  bears  any  real  resemblance  to  him. 
The  two  former  were  satirists  in  the  modern  sense ;  the  two  latter 
have  caught  what  we  may  call  the  town  side  of  Horace,  but  they 
are  accomplished  epigrammatists  and  rhetoricians,  which  he  is  not, 
and  they  entirely  lack  his  strong  love  for  the  simple  and  the 
rural.  Horace  is  decidedly  the  least  rhetorical  of  all  Roman  poets. 
His  taste  is  as  free  from  the  contamination  of  the  basilica1  as  it  is 
from  that  of  Alexandrinism.  As  in  lyric  poetry  he  went  straight 
to  the  fountain-head,  seeking  models  among  the  bards  of  old 
Greece,  so  in  his  prose-yoeiry,  as  he  calls  the  Satires,2  he  draws 
from  the  well  of  real  experience,  departing  from  it  neither  to  the 
right  hand  nor  to  the  left.  This  is  what  gives  his  works  their 
lasting  value.  They  are  all  gold  ;  in  other  words,  they  have  been 
dug  for.  Refined  gold  all  certainly  are  not,  many  of  them  are  strik- 
ingly the  reverse ;  for  all  sorts  of  subjects  are  treated  by  them, 
bad  as  well  as  good.  The  poet  professes  to  have  no  settled  plan, 
but  to  wander  from  subject  to  subject,  as  the  humour  or  the  train 
of  thought  leads  him  ;  as  Plato  savs — 

t>7T77  au  6  \6yos  &yoi,  ravTrj  \rlov. 

Without  the  slightest  pretence  of  authority  or  the  right  to  dictate, 
he  contrives  to  supply  us  with  an  infinite  number  of  sound  and 
healthy  moral  lessons,  to  reason  with  us  so  genially  and  with  so 
frank  an  admission  of  his  own  equal  frailty,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  be  angry  with  him,  impossible  not  to  love  the  gentle  instructor. 
He  has  been  accused  of  tol  trance  towards  vice.     That  is,  we  think, 

1  I.e.  the  hall  where  rhetorical  exhibitions  were  given. 

2  JVz'.v?  quod  vede  certo  chffert  scrwrnii,  sermo  v^erva,  S.  I.  iv.     So  the  titl» 


HORACE  AS  A  MORALIST  293 

a  great  error.  Horace  knew  men  too  well  to  "be  severe ;  his  is  no 
tiumpet-call,  but  a  still  small  voice,  which  pleads  but  does  not 
accuse.  He  was  no  doubt  in  his  youth  a  lax  liver  j l  he  hail 
adopted  the  Epicurean  creed  and  the  loose  conduct  that  follows  it, 
But  he  was  struggling  towards  a  purer  ideal.  Even  in  the  Sitires 
he  i3  only  half  an  Epicurean ;  in  the  Upist/es  he  is  not  one  at  all : 
and  in  proportion  as  he  has  outlived  the  hot  blood  of  youth, 
his  voice  becomes  clearer  and  his  faith  in  virtue  stronger.  Tho 
Epidles  are  to  a  great  extent  reflective  ;  he  has  examined  his  own 
heart,  and  depicts  his  musings  for  our  benefit.  Many  of  them  are 
moral  essays  filled  with  precepts  of  wisdom,  the  more  precious  as 
having  been  genuinely  thought  out  by  the  writer  for  himself. 
Less  dramatic,  less  vigorous,  perhaps,  than  the  Satires,  they  em- 
body in  choicest  language  the  maturest  results  of  his  reflection. 
Their  poetical  merits  are  higher,  their  diction  more  chaste,  their 
metre  more  melodious.  With  the  Georyics  they  are  ranked 
as  the  most  perfect  examples  of  the  modulation  of  hexameter 
verse.  Their  movement  is  rippling  rather  than  flowing,  and 
satisfies  the  mind  rather  than  the  ear,  but  it  is  a  delicious  move- 
ment, full  of  suggestive  grace.  The  diction,  though  classical, 
admits  occasional  colloquialisms.2 

Several  of  the  S'dires?  and  the  three  Epistles  which  form  the 
second  book,  are  devoted  to  literary  criticism,  and  these  have 
always  been  regarded  as  among  the  most  interesting  of  Horace's 
compositions.  His  opinions  on  previous  and  contemporary  poetry 
are  given  with  emphasis,  and  as  a  rule  ran  counter  to  the  opinion 
of  his  day.  The  technical  dexterity  in  versification  which  had 
resulted  from  the  feverish  activity  of  the  last  forty  years,  had 
produced  a  disastrous  consequence.  All  the  world  was  seized 
with  the  mania  for  writing  poetry : 

"Scribimus  indocti  doctique  poemata  passim." 

The  young  Pisos  were  among  the  number.     To  them  the  poet 

gave  this  friendly  counsel,  to  lock  up  their  creations  fw  nine 

years,  and  then  publish,  or  as  we  may  shrewdly  suspect  he  meant 

— destroy  them.     Poetry  is  the  one  thing  that,  if  it  is  to  be  douv 

at  all,  must  be  done  well : 

"  Mediocribns  esse  pootis 
Non  di,  non  homines,  non  eoncessere  columnae." 

In  Horace's  opinion  none  of  the  old  poetry  came  up  to  this 

1  We  learn  this  from  the  life  by  Suetq  nius. 

2  E.g.  iuvidcor,  imperor,  se  imped led  (S.  I.  x.  10)  =  impediat'ir  ;  0  nptora 
foepit  institui  for  coepta  est.     Others  might  easily  be  collected . 

8  S.  I.  iv.  10  ;  S.  II.  i.  in  great  part. 


294  HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

standard.  "WTien  he  quotes  two  lines  of  Ennius l  as  defying  all 
efforts  to  make  prose  of  them,  we  cannot  help  fancying  he  is 
indulging  his  ironical  vein.  He  never  speaks  seriously  of  Ennius. 
In  fact  he  thoroughly  disliked  the  array  of  "  old  masters  "  that  were 
at  once  confronted  with  him  whenever  he  expressed  a  predilection. 
It  was  not  only  the  populace  who  yawned  over  Accius's  tragedies, 
or  the  critics  who  lauded  the  style  of  the  Salian  hymn,  that 
moved  his  resentment.  These  he  could  afford  to  despise.  It  was 
rather  the  antiquarian  prr.pr/wes?ioi.fi  of  such  men  as  Virgil, 
Maecenas,  and  Augustus,  tnafc  caused  lorn  so  earnestly  to  combat 
the  love  of  all  that  was  old.  In  his  zeal  there  is  no  doubt  he  has 
outrun  justice.  He  had  no  sympathy  for  the  untamed  vigour  of 
those  rough  but  spirited  writers ;  his  fastidious  taste  could  make 
no  allowance  for  the  circumstances  against  which  they  had  to 
contend.  To  reply  that  the  excessive  admiration  lavished  by  the 
multitude  demanded  an  equally  sweeping  condemnation,  is  not  to 
excuse  Horace.  One  who  wrote  so  cautiously  would  never  have 
used  exaggeration  to  enforce  his  words.  The  disparaging  remarks 
must  be  regarded  as  expressing  his  real  opinion,  and  we  are  not 
concerned  to  defend  it. 

His  attitude  towards  the  age  immediately  preceding  his  own  is 
even  less  worthy  of  him.  He  never  mentions  Lucretius,  though 
one  or  two  allusions  2  show  that  he  knew  and  was  indebted  to  his 
writings ;  he  refers  to  Catullus  only  once,  and  then  in  evident  de- 
preciation,3 mentioning  him  and  Calvus  as  the  sole  literature  of  a 
second-rate  singer,  whom  he  calls  the  ape  of  Hermogenes  Tigellius. 
"Moreover  his  bocst  that  he  was  the  first  to  introduce  the  Archi- 
lochian  iambic  4  and  the  lyric  metres,5  though  perhaps  justifiable, 
is  the  reverse  of  generous,  seeing  that  Catullus  had  treated  before 
him  three  at  least  of  the  metres  to  which  he  alludes.  Mr  Munro's 
assertion  as  to  there  being  indications  that  the  school  of  Lucretius 
and  Catullus  would  have  necessarily  come  into  collision  with  that 


1  S.  I.  iv.  60,  Postquam  Discordia,  tetra  Belli  ferratos  postes  portasque 
ref regit.  These  are  also  imitated  by  Virgil ;  but  they  do  not  appear  to 
bIiow  any  particular  beauty. 

2  8.  I.  v.  101  ;  Ep.  1.  iv.  16. 

8  Neque  simius  iste  Nil  praeter  Calvum  ct  doctus  cantare  Catullum 
(S.  I.  x.  19).  I  cannot  agree  with  Mr  Martin  (Horact  for  English  Readers, 
p.  57),  who  thinks  the  allusion  not  meant  to  be  uncomplimentary. 

4  Parios  iamhos  has  been  ingeniously  explained  to  mean  the  epode,  i.e 
the  iambic  followed  by  a  shorter  line  in  the  same  or  a  different  rhythm,  e.g. 
vdrtp  AvKaix^a  toIov  i<Ppaao>  To5e  ;    rl  <ras  irapTjcipe  <pp4vas  ;  but  it  seema 
more  natural  to  give  Parios  the  ordinary  sense.     Cf.  Archilochum,  propru 
rabies  armavit  iambo,  A.  P.  79 

5  Ep.  I.  xix.  24. 


Horace's  literary  criticism.  295 

of  the  Augustan  poets,  had  the  former  survived  to  their  time,  is 
supported  by  Horace's  attitude.  Virgil  and  Tibullus  would  have 
found  many  points  of  union,  so  probably  would  Gallus;  but 
Horace,  Propertius,  and  Ovid,  would  certainly  have  been  antago- 
nistic. It  is  unfortunate  that  the  canons  laid  down  by  Horace 
found  no  followers.  While  Virgil  had  his  imitators  from  the 
first,  and  Tibullus  and  Propertius  served  as  models  to  young 
aspirants,  Horace,  strangely  enough,  found  no  disciples.  Persius 
in  a  later  age  studied  him  with  care,  and  tried  to  reproduce  his 
style,  but  with  such  a  signal  want  of  success  that  in  every  passage 
where  he  imitates,  he  caricatures  his  master.  He  has,  however, 
left  us  an  appreciative  and  beautiful  criticism  on  the  Horatian 
method.1 

It  has  often  been  supposed  that  the  Ars  Poetica  was  writen  in 
the  hope  of  regenerating  the  drama.  This  theory  is  based  partly  on 
the  length  at  which  dramatic  subjects  are  treated,  partly  on  the 
high  pre-eminence  which  the  critic  assigns  to  that  class  of  poetry. 
But  he  can  hardly  have  so  far  deceived  himself  as  to  believe  that 
any  efforts  of  his  could  restore  the  popular  interest  in  the  legitimate 
drama  which  had  now  sunk  to  the  lowest  ebb.  It  should  rather  be 
considered  as  a  deliberate  expression  of  his  views  upon  many  im- 
portant subjects  connected  with  literary  studies,  written  primarily 
for  the  young  Pisos,  but  meant  for  the  world  at  large,  and  not 
intended  for  an  exhortation  (adhortatio)  so  much  as  a  treatise. 
Its  admirable  precepts  have  been  approved  by  every  age :  and 
there  is  probably  no  composition  in  the  world  to  which  so  few 
exceptions  have  been  taken. 

Here  we  leave  Horace,  and  conclude  the  chapter  with  a  very 
short  account  of  some  of  his  friends  who  devoted  themselves  to 
poetry.  The  first  is  C.  Valgius  Eufus,  who  was  consul  in  the  year 
12  b.c.  and  to  whom  the  ninth  Ode  of  the  second  book  is  addressed. 
Whether  from  his  high  position  or  from  his  genuine  poetical 
promise,  we  find  great  expectations  held  regarding  him.  Tibullus 
(or  rather,  the  author  of  the  poem  ascribed  to  him)2  says  that  no 
other  poet  came  nearer  to  Homer's  genius,  and  Horace  by  asking 
him  to  celebrate  the  new  trophies  of  Augustus  implies  that  he 
cultivated  an  epic  strain.3  Besides  loftier  themes  he  treated  erotic 
subjects  in  elegiac  verse,  translated  the  rhetoric  of  Apollodorus,4  and 

1  S.  i.  118,  Omne  vafcr  vitium  ridenti  Flttccus  amieo  Tangit,  ct  admit  mcs 
eircum  praecordia  hcdit,  Callidus  excvsso  jwpidum  suspendere  naso. 

2  Tib.  IV.  i.  179,  Est  tibi  qui  vossit  magnis  se  accingere  rebus  Valgius: 
aeterno  propior  non  alter  Homero.  3  Od.  II.  ix.  19. 

4  Quint.  III.  i.  18.  linger,  q?ioted  by  Teuffel,  §  236,  conjectures  that  fof 
Nicandrum  frustra  secuti  Macer  at  que  Yirgilius,  we  should  read  Valgius,  in 
Quint.  X.  i.'  56. 


296  niSTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

wrote  letteis  on  grammar,  probably  in  the  form  aftei  wards  adopted 
by  Seneca's  moral  epistles.  Aristius  Fuscus  to  whom  the  twenty- 
eecond  Ode  of  the  first  book  and  the  tenth  Epistle  are  addressed, 
wa3  a  writer  of  some  pretensions.  It  is  not  certain  what  line  he 
followed,  but  in  all  probability  the  drama.  He  was  an  intimate 
acquaintance  of  Horace,  and,  it  will  be  remembered,  delivered  him 
from  the  intrusive  acquaintance  on  the  Via  Sacra,1  Fundanius, 
who  is  twice  mentioned  by  Horace,  and  once  in  very  complimen- 
tary terms  as  the  best  comic  poet  of  the  day,2  has  not  been  fortunate 
pnough  to  rind  any  biographer.  Titius,  one  of  the  younger  men 
to  whom  so  many  of  the  epistles  are  addressed,  was  a  very  ambi- 
tious poet.  He  attempted  Pindaric  nights  from  which  the  genius 
Df  Horace  shrank,  and  apparently  he  cultivated  tragedy,  but  in  a 
pompous  and  ranting  manner.3  Iccius,  who  is  referred  to  in  the 
ninth  Ode  of  Book  I.,  and  in  the  twelfth  Epistle,  as  a  philosopher, 
may  have  written  poems.  Julius  Florus,  to  whom  two  beautiful 
epistles  (I.  iii.  II.  ii.)  are  addressed,  is  rallied  by  Horace  on  hia 
tendency  to  write  love-poems,  but  apparently  his  efforts  ca?r»e  to 
nothing.  Celsus  Albinovanus  was,  like  Florus,  a  friend  of 
Tiberius,  to  whom  he  acted  as  private  secretary  for  some  time  ;4 
he  was  given  to  pilfering  ideas,  and  Horace  deals  him  a  salutary 
caution : — 

"  Monitus  multumque  monendus 
Privatas  ut  quaerat  opes,  et  tangere  vitet 
Scripta  Palatums  quaecunque  recepit  Apollo."* 

The  last  of  these  friends  we  shall  notice  is  Julus  Antoxius  6  a  son 
of  the  triumvir,  who,  according  to  Acron,7  wrote  twelve  excellent 
books  in  epic  metre  on  the  legends  of  Diomed,  a  work  obviously 
modelled  on  those  of  Euphorion,  whose  fourteen  books  of  Heracleia 
were  extremely  popular ;  in  a  later  age  Statius  attempted  a  similar 
task  in  essaying  the  history  of  Achilles.  The  ode  addressed  to  him 
by  Horace  seems  to  hint  at  a  foolish  ambition  to  imitate  Pindar. 
Besides  these  lesser  known  authors  Horace  knew,  though  he  does 
not  mention,  the  poets  Ovid  and  Domitius  Marsus ;  probably  also 
Propertius.  With  Tibullus  he  was  long  on  terms  of  friendship, 
and  one  epistle  and  one  ode  8  are  addressed  to  him.  His  gentle 
Datura  endeared  him  to  Horace,  as  his  graceful  poetry  drew  forth 
his  commendation. 

1  Std.  I,  ix.  61. 

2  Arguta  meretrice  potes  Davoque  Clircmeque  Eludcntc  senem  comis  garrin 
Uhcllos  Units  vivorum,  Fundani.     After  all,  this  praise  is  equivocal. 

3  Pindarici  fontii  qui  non  expalluit  haustus.  .  .  .  An  tragica  desaevU  et 
ampullafur  in  arte  ?    Ep.  I.  iii.  10. 

*  Ep.  I.  vir.  2.  6  Ep.  I.  iii.  15.  •  Od.  IV.  H.  2 

1  Od.  iv.  ii  2,  quoted  by  TeuffeL  8  Od.  I.  xxxiii. ;  Ep.  I.  ir. 


CHAPTER  IV, 

The  Elegiac  Poets — Gratius — Majouotl 

The  shoit  artificial  elegy  of  Callimaclius  and  Philetas  had,  as  we 
have  seen,  found  an  imitator  in  Catullus.  But  that  poet,  when  he 
addressed  to  Lesbia  the  language  of  true  passion,  wrote  for  the 
most  part  in  lyric  verse.  The  Augustan  age  furnishes  a  series  of 
brilliant  poets  who  united  the  artificial  elegiac  with  the  expression 
of  real  feeling  ;  and  one  of  them,  Ovid,  has  by  his  exquisite  formal 
polish  raised  the  Latin  elegiac  couplet  to  a  popularity  unparalleled 
in  imitative  literature.  The  metre  had  at  first  been  adapted  to 
short  epigrams  modelled  on  the  Greek,  e.g.,  triumphal  inscriptions, 
epitaphs,  jeux  d'esprit,  &c.  several  examples  of  which  have  been 
quoted  in  these  pages.  Catullus  and  his  contemporaries  first  treated 
it  at  greater  length,  and  paved  the  way  for  the  highly  specialised 
form  in  which  it  appears  in  Tibullus,  the  earliest  Augustan  author 
that  has  come  down  to  us. 

There  are  indications  that  Eoman  elegy,  like  heroic  verse,  had 
two  separate  tendencies.  There  was  the  comparatively  simple 
continuous  treatment  of  the  metre  seen  in  Catullus  and  Virgil, 
who  are  content  to  follow  the  Greek  rhythm,  and  there  was  the 
more  rhetorical  and  pointed  style  first  beginning  to  appear  in 
Tibullus,  carried  a  step  further  in  Propertius,  and  culminating  in 
the  epigrammatic  couplet  of  Ovid.  This  last  is  a  peculiarly  Latin 
development,  unsuited  to  the  Greek,  and  too  elaborately  artificial 
to  be  the  vehicle  for  the  highest  poetry,  but,  when  treated  by  one 
who  is  master  of  his  method,  admitting  of  a  facility,  fluency,  and 
incomparable  elegance,  which  perhaps  no  other  rhythm  combines 
in  an  equal  degree.  In  almost  all  its  features  it  may  be  illustrated 
by  the  heroic  couplet  of  Pope.  The  elegiac  line  is  in  the  strictest 
sense  a  pendant  to  the  hexameter ;  only  rarely  does  it  introduce 
a  ne\r  element  of  thought,  and  perhaps  never  a  new  commence- 
ment in  narration.  It  is  for  the  most  part  an  iteration,  variation, 
enlargement,  condensation  or  antithesis  of  the  idea  embodied  in 
its  predecessor.     In  the  most  highly  finished  of  Ovid's  compositioin 


203  HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

this  structure  is  carried  to  such  a  point  that  the  syntax  is  rarely 
altogether  continuous  throughout  the  couplet ;  there  is  generally  a 
break  either  natural  or  rhetorical  at  the  conclusion  of  the  hexameter 
or  within  the  first  few  syllables  of  the  pentameter.1  The  rhetorical 
as  distinct  from  the  natural  period,  which  appears,  though  veiled 
with  great  skill,  in  the  Virgilian  hexameter,  is  in  Ovid's  versa 
made  the  key  to  the  whole  rhythmical  structure,  and  by  its  re- 
striction within  the  minimum  space  of  two  lines  offers  a  tempting 
field  to  the  various  tricks  of  composition,  the  turn,  the  point,  the 
climax,  &c.  in  all  of  which  Ovid,  as  the  typical  elegist,  luxurv 
atea,  though  he  applies  such  elegant  manipulation  as  rarely  to 
over-stimulate  and  scarcely  ever  to  offend  the  reader's  attention. 
The  criticism  that  such  a  system  cannot  fail  to  awaken  is  that  of 
want  of  variety ;  and  in  spite  of  the  diverse  modes  of  producing 
effect  which  these  accomplished  writers,  and  above  all  Ovid,  well 
knew  how  to  use,  one  cannot  read  them  long  without  a  sense  of 
monotony,  which  never  attends  on  the  far  less  ambitious  elegies  of 
Catullus,  and  probably  would  have  been  equally  absent  from  those 
of  Cornelius  Gallus. 

This  ill-starred  poet,  whose  life  is  the  subject  of  Bekker's 
admirable  sketch,  was  born  at  Forum  Julii  (Frejus)  69  b.c,  and  is 
celebrated  as  the  friend  of  Virgil's  youth.  Full  of  ambition  and 
endowed  with  talent  to  command  or  conciliate,  he  speedily  rose  in 
Augustus's  service,  and  was  the  first  to  introduce  Virgil  to  his 
notice.  For  a  time  all  prospered ;  he  was  appointed  the  first  pre- 
fect of  Egypt,  then  recently  annexed  as  a  province,  but  his  haughti- 
ness and  success  had  made  him  many  enemies ;  he  was  accused  of 
treasonable  conversation,  and  interdicted  the  palace  of  the  emperor. 
To  avoid  further  disgrace  he  committed  suicide,  in  the  43d  year  of 

1  E.g.  In  the  first  100  lines  of  the  Remedium  Amoris,  a  long  continuous 
treatise,  there  is  only  one  couplet  where  the  syntax  is  carried  continuously 
through,  v.  57,  8,  Nee  moriens  Dido  summavidissct  ab  arce  Dardanias  vento 
vela  dedisse  rates,  and  even  here  the  pentameter  forms  a  clause  by  itself.  Con- 
trast the  treatment  of  Catullus  (lxvi.  104-115)  where  the  sense,  rhythm,  and 
syntax  are  connected  together  for  twelve  lines.  The  same  applies  to  the  open- 
ing verses  of  Virgil's  Copa.  Tate's  little  treatise  on  the  elegiac  couplet  correctly 
analyses  the  formal  side  of  Ovid's  versification.  As  instances  of  the  relation 
of  the  elegiac  to  the  hexameter — iteration  (Her.  xiii.  167),  Aucupor  in  lecto 
tmndaces  caclibe  sovmos ;  Dum  carco  veris  gaudia  falsa  iuvant :  variation 
(Her.  xi  v.  5),  Quod  rnunus  extimuit  iugulo  demittere  ferrum  Sum  rea:  laudaret 
ti  scelus  ausaforem :  expansion  (id.  1),  Mittit  Hypermnestra  de  tot  modofra* 
tribusunct:  Cetera  nuptarum  crimine  turba  iacet:  condensation  (Her.  xiii.  1), 
Mittit  et  optat  amans  quo  mittitur  ire  salutem,  Haemonis  Haemonio  Laodami* 
viro:  antithesis  (Am.  I.  ix.  3),  Quae  bello  est  habilti  veneri  quoque  convenU 
anas;  Turpe  senex  mites  turpe  senilis  amor.  These  illustrations  might  b% 
indefinitely  increased,  and  the  analysis  carried  much  further.  Bui  th* 
Rtndent  will  pursue  it  with  ea3e  for  himself.     Compare  ch.  ii.  app.  note  8. 


DOMITIUS  MARSUS.  209 

his  age  (27  b.c).  His  poetry  was  entirely  taken  from  Alexandria ; 
he  translated  Enphorion  and  wrote  four  books  of  love-elegies  to 
Cytheris.  Whether  she  is  the  same  as  the  Lycoris  mentioned  by 
Virgil,1  who3e  faithlessness  he  bewails,  we  cannot  telL  No  frag- 
ments of  his  remain,2  but  the  passionate  nature  of  the  man,  and 
the  epithet  durior  applied  to  his  verse  by  Quintilian,  makes  it 
probable  that  he  followed  the  older  and  more  vigorous  style  of 
elegiac  writing.3 

Somewhat  junior  to  him  was  Domitius  Marsus  who  followed 
in  the  same  track.  He  was  a  member  of  the  circle  of  Maecenas, 
though,  strangely  enough,  never  mentioned  by  Horace,  and  exer- 
cised his  varied  talents  in  epic  poetry,  in  which  he  met  with  no 
great  success,  for  Martial  says — * 


a 


Saepius  in  libro  memoratur  Persius  uno 
Quam  levis  in  to  to  Marsus  Amazonide." 


From  this  we  gather  that  Amazonis  was  the  name  of  his  poem. 
In  erotic  poetry  he  held  a  high  place,  though  not  of  the  first  rank. 
His  Fabellae  and  treatise  on  Urbanitas,  both  probably  poetical  pro- 
ductions, are  referred  to  by  Quintilian,  and  Martial  mentions  him 
as  his  own  precursor  in  treating  the  short  epigram.  From  another 
passage  of  Martial, 

'*  Et  Maecenati  Maro  cum  cantaret  Alexin 
Nota  tanien  Marsi  fusca  Melaenis  erat,*5 

we  infer  that  he  began  his  career  early;  for  he  was  certainly 
younger  than  Horace,  though  probably  only  by  a  few  years,  as  he 
also  receeived  instruction  from  Orbilius.  There  is  a  fine  epigram 
by  Marsus  lamenting  the  death  of  his  two  brother-poets  and 
friends: 

u  Te  quoque  Virgilio  comitem  non  aequa,  Tibulle, 
Mors  iuvenem  campos  misit  ad  Elysios. 
Ne  foret  aut  molles  elegis  qui  fleret  amores, 
Aut  caneret  forti  regia  bella  pede. M 

Albitjs  Tibullus,  to  whom  Quintilian  adjudges  the  palm  of 

Latin  elegy,  "v^as  born  probably  about  the  same  time  as  Horace 

(65  b.c),  though  others  place  the  date  of  his  birth  as  late  as 

that  of  Messala  (59  b.c).     In  the  fifth  Elegy  of  the  third  book6 

occur  the  words — 

"  Natalem  no3tri  primum  videre  parentes 
Cum  cecidit  fato  consul  uterque  pari." 

P—  ■■■■■■     ■!■■■■■■■       II.  ■!  -  -"     ■     ■     ■  —  ■  .—  II        I  ■    ■■— !■—   1        I  ■■■  ■  I  ■  ■  ■  — y 

1  Eel.  x.  i. 

*  Two  Greek  Epigrams  (Arfihol.   Gr.  ii.  p.  98)  are  assigned  to  him  by 
Jacobs  (Teutfel).  »  Quint,  x.  1,  93. 

*  Mart   iv.  29,  7.  •  Id.  vii.  29,  8.  6  v.  17,  18. 


I 


300  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

As  these  words  nearly  reappear  in  Ovid,  fixing  the  date  of  nis  own 
birth,1  some  critics  have  supposed  them  to  be  spurious  here.  But 
there  is  no  occasion  for  this.  The  elegy  in  which  they  occur  is 
certainly  not  by  Tibullus,  and  may  well  be  the  work  of  some 
contemporary  of  Ovid.-  They  point  to  the  battle  of  Mutina,  43 
rc.,  in  which  Hirtius  and  Pansalost  their  lives.  The  poet's  death 
ig  fixed  to  19  b.c.  by  the  epigram  of  Domitius  just  quoted. 

Tibullus  was  a  Eoman  knight,  and  inherited  a  large  fortune. 
This,  however,  he  lost  by  the  triumviral  proscriptions,2  excepting 
a  poor  remnant  of  his  estate  near  Pedum  which,  small  as  it  was, 
seems  to  have  sufficed  for  his  moderate  wants.  At  a  later  period 
Horace,  writing  to  him  in  retirement,  speaks  as  though  he  were 
possessed  of  considerable  wealth — 3 

"  Di  tibi  divitias  dederunt  artemque  fruendi." 

It  is  possible  that  Augustus,  at  the  intercession  of  Messala, 
restored  the  poet's  patrimony.  It  was  as  much  the  fashion  among 
the  Augustan  writers  to  affect  a  humble  but  contented  poverty,  as 
it  had  been  among  the  libertines  of  the  Cesarean  age  to  pretend 
to  sanctity  of  life — another  form  of  that  unreality  which,  after 
all,  is  ineradicable  from  Latin  poetry.  Ovid  is  far  more  unaffected. 
He  asserts  plainly  that  the  pleasures  and  refinements  of  his  time 
were  altogether  to  his  taste,  and  that  no  other  age  would  have 
suited  him  half  so  well.4  Tibullus  is  a  melancholy  effeminate 
spirit.  Horace  exactly  hits  him  when  he  bids  him  "  chant  no 
more  woeful  elegies,"6  because  a  young  and  perjured  rival  has 
been  preferred  to  him.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  ambition  and 
no  energy,  but  his  position  obliged  him  to  see  some  military 
service,  and  we  find  that  he  went  on  no  less  than  three  expedi- 
tions with  his  patron.  This  patron,  or  rather  friend,  for  he  was 
above  needing  a  patron,  was  the  great  Messala,  whom  the  poet 
loved  with  a  warmth  and  constancy  testified  by  some  beautiful 
elegies,  the  finest  perhaps  being  those  where  the  general's  victories 
are  celebrated.6  But  the  chief  theme  of  his  verse  is  the  love,  ill- 
requited  it  would  seem,  which  he  lavished  first  on  Delia  and 
afterwards  on  Nemesis.  Each  mistress  gives  the  subject  to  a 
book.  Delia's  real  name  as  we  learn  from  Apuleius  was  Plania,7 
and  we  gather  from  more  than  one  notice  in  the  poems  that 

1  Tr.  II.  x.  6.  *  EL  I.  i.  19.  8  Ep.  I.  iv.  7. 

4  Prisma  invent  alios :  ego  me  nunc  dcnique  natum  Gratulor :  haec  aetas 
moribus  apta  meis  (A.  A.  iii.  121).     Ovid  is  unquestionably  right 

•  Od.  I.  xxxiii.  2. 

•  El.  I.  7 ;  II.  1.    Tibullus  turns  from  battle  scenes  with  relief  to  the  quiet 
jojs  of  the  country. 

'  Others  read  Plautiaf  but  without  eavise. 


TIBULLUS.  301 

she  was  married1  when  Tibullus  paid  his  addresses  to  her.  U 
the  form  of  these  poems  is  borrowed  from  Alexandria,  th«3 
gentle  pathos  and  gushing  feeling  redeem  them  from  all  taint  o! 
artificiality.  In  no  poet,  not  even  in  Burns,  is  simple,  natural 
emotion  more  naturally  expressed.  If  we  cannot  praise  the  char- 
acter of  the  man,  we  must  admire  the  graceful  poet  Nothing  can 
give  a  truer  picture  of  affection  than  the  following  tender  And 
exquisitely  musical  lines : 

**  Non  ego  laudari  euro :  m*»  Delia,  tecum 

Bummodo  sim  quaeso  segnis  inersque  vocer. 
Te  spectem  suprema  mihi  cum  venerit  hora : 
Te  teneam  moriens  deficiente  manu.a 

Here  is  the  same  "linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out"  which  gives 
such  a  charm  to  Gray's  elegy.  In  other  elegies,  particularly  those 
which  take  the  form  of  idylls,  giving  images  of  rural  peace  and 
plenty,3  we  see  the  quiet  retiring  nature  that  will  not  be  drawn 
into  the  glare  of  Eome.  Tibullus  is  described  as  of  great  personal 
beauty,  and  of  a  candid4  and  affectionate  disposition.  Notwith- 
standing  his  devotion  Delia  was  faithless,  and  the  poet  sought  dis- 
traction in  surrendering  to  the  charms  of  another  mistress.  Horace 
speaks  of  a  lady  named  Glycera  in  this  connection ;  it  is  probable 
that  she  is  the  same  as  Nemesis  -5  the  custom  of  erotic  poetry 
being  to  substitute  a  Greek  name  of  similar  scansion  for  the 
original  Latin  one ;  if  the  original  name  were  Greek  the  change 
was  still  made,  hence  Glycera  might  well  stand  for  Nemesis.  The 
third  book  was  first  seen  by  Mebuhr  to  be  from  another  and 
much  inferior  poet.  It  is  devoted  to  the  praises  of  Neaera,  and 
imitates  the  manner  of  Tibullus  with  not  a  little  of  his  sweetness 
but  with  much  less  power.  Who  the  author  was  it  is  impossible 
to  say,  but  though  he  had  little  genius  he  was  a  man  of  feeling 
and  taste,  and  the  six  elegies  are  a  pleasing  relic  of  this  active 
and  yet  melancholy  time.  The  fourth  book  begins  with  a  short 
epic  on  Messala,  the  work  of  a  poetaster,  extending  over  200  lines. 
It  is  followed  by  thirteen  most  graceful  elegidia  ascribed  to  the 
lovers  Cerinthus  and  Sulpicia  of  which  one  only  is  by  Cerinthus. 
It  is  not  certain  whether  this  ascription  is  genuine,  or  whether, 
a*  the  ancient  life  of  Tibullus  in  the  Parisian  codex  asserts,  the 
poems  were  written  by  him  under  the  title  of*  Epistolae  amatoriae. 
Their  finished  elegance  and  purity  of  diction  are  easily  reconcilable 
with  the  view  that  they  are  the  work  of  Tibullus.     They  abound 

>  El.  ii.  21.  *  lb.  i.  57.  *  lb.  ii.  1. 

4  AIM,  nostroru.n  sermonvm  candide  index,  Hor.  Ep.  I.  iv. 
•  Ov.  An.  11  J.  ix.  32,  implins  that  Delia  and  Neiresis  were  the  two 
BBssive  mistresses  oi  the  poet. 


302  HIbTORY   OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

in  allusions  to  Virgil's  poetry.1  At  the  same  time  the  descriptioi 
of  Sulpicia  as  a  poetess2  seems  to  point  to  her  as  authoress  of  the 
pieces  that  bear  her  name,  and  from  one  or  two  allusions 
we  gather  that  Messala  was  paying  her  attentions  that  were  dis- 
tasteful but  hard  to  refuse.3  The  materials  for  coming  to  a 
decision  are  so  scanty,  that  it  seems  best  to  leave  the  authorship 
an  open  question. 

The  rhythm  of  Tibullus  is  smooth,  easy,  and  graceful,  but  tame. 
He  generally  concludes  his  period  at  the  end  of  the  couplet,  and 
closes  the  couplet  with  a  dissyllable ;  but  he  does  not  like  Ovid 
make  it  an  invariable  rule.  The  diction  is  severely  classical,  free 
from  Greek  constructions  and  antiquated  harshness.  In  elision 
he  stands  midway  between  Catullus  and  Ovid,  inclining,  however, 
more  nearly  to  the  latter. 

Sex.  Aurelius  Propertius,  an  Umbrian,  from  Mevania, 
Ameria,  Assisi,  or  Hispellum,  it  is  not  certain  which,  was  born 
58  B.C.  or  according  to  others  49  b.c.,  and  lost  his  father  and  his 
estate  in  the  same  year  (41  B.C.)  under  Octavius's  second  assigna- 
tion of  land  to  the  soldiers.  He  seems  to  have  begun  life  at  the 
bar,  which  he  soon  deserted  to  play  the  cavalier  to  Hostia  (whom 
he  celebrates  under  the  name  Cynthia),  a  lady  endowed  with 
learning  and  wit  as  well  as  beauty,  to  whom  our  poet  remained 
constant  for  five  years.  The  chronology  of  his  love-quarrels  and 
reconciliations  has  been  the  subject  of  warm  disputes  between 
Nobbe,  Jacob,  and  Lachmann;  but  even  if  it  were  of  any  impor- 
tance, it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  it  with  certainty. 

He  unquestionably  belonged  to  Maecenas's  following,  but  was 
not  admitted  into  the  inner  circle  of  his  intimates.  Some  have 
thought  that  the  troublesome  acquaintance  who  besought  Horace 
to  introduce  him  was  no  other  than  Propertius.  The  man,  it 
will  be  remembered,  expresses  himself  willing  to  take  a  humble 

place : 4 

"  Haberes 
Magnum  adiutorem  posset  qui  ferre  secundas 
Hunc  hominem  velles  si  tradere.     Dispeream  ni 
Submosses  omnes." 

And  as  Propertius  speaks  of  himself  as  living  on  the  Esquiliae,5 
some  have,  in  conformity  with  this  view,  imagined  him  to  have 
held  some  domestic  post  under  Maecenas's  roof.     A  careful  reader 

1  El.  IV.  ii.  11,  12,  writ.  .  .  .  urit.  Cf.  G.  L  77,  78.  Again,  dulcisri.n* 
furla  (v.  7),  cape  tura  libens  (id.  9) ;  Pone  metum  Cerinthe  (iv.  15),  will  at 
Mire  recall  familiar  Virgilian  cadences. 

2  lb.  IV.  vi.  2 ;  vii.  9.  •  lb.  IV.  viii.  5  ;  x.  4. 

*  S.  I.  ix.  45.  •  IK  iv.  23,  24  ;  r.  8,  1. 


PROPERTIUS.  30S 

can  detect  in  Propcrtius  a  far  less  well-bred  tone  than  is  apparent 
hi  Tibullus  or  Horace.  He  has  the  air  of  a  parvenu,1  parading 
his  intellectual  wares,  and  lacking  the  courteous  self-restraint 
which  dignifies  their  style.  But  he  is  a  genuine  poet,  and  a 
generous,  warm-hearted  man,  and  in  our  opinion  by  far  the 
greatest  master  of  the  pentameter  that  Rome  ever  produced.  Its 
rhythm  in  his  hands  rises  at  times  almost  into  grandeur.  There 
are  passages  in  the  elegy  on  Cornelia  (which  concludes  the  series) 
whose  noble  naturalness  and  stirring  emphasis  bespeak  a  great 
and  patriotic  inspiration ;  and  no  small  part  of  this  effect  is  due 
to  his  vigorous  handling  of  a  somewhat  feeble  metre.2  Mechani- 
cally speaking,  he  is  a  disciple  in  the  same  school  as  Ovid,  but  his 
success  in  the  Ovidian  distich  is  insignificant ;  for  he  has  nothing 
of  the  epigrammatist  in  him,  and  his  finest  lines  all  seem  to  have 
come  by  accident,  or  at  anyrate  without  effort.3  His  excessive 
reverence  for  the  Alexandrines  Callimachus  and  Philetas,  has 
cramped  his  muse.  With  infinitely  more  poetic  fervour  than 
either,  he  has  made  them  his  only  models,  and  to  attain  their 
reputation  is  the  summit  of  his  ambition.  It  is  from  respect  to 
their  practice  that  he  has  loaded  his  poems  with  pedantic  erudi- 
tion ;  in  the  very  midst  of  passionate  pleading  he  will  turn  abruptly 
into  the  mazes  of  some  obscure  myth,  often  unintelligible4  to  the 
modern  reader,  whose  patience  he  sorely  tries.  There  is  no  good 
poet  so  difficult  to  read  through ;  his  faults  are  not  such  as  "  plead 
sweetly  for  pardon;"  they  are  obtrusive  and  repelling,  and  have 
been  more  in  the  way  of  his  fame  than  those  of  any  extant 
writer  of  equal  genius.  He  was  a  devoted  admirer  of  Virgil, 
whose  poems  he  sketches  in  the  following  graceful  lines : — 5 

"  Actia  Virgilio  custodit  (dens)  litora  Phoebi, 
Caesaris  et  fortes  dicere  posse  rates  : 
Qui  nunc  Aeneae  Troianaque  suscitat  arnia, 

Iactaque  Lavinis  moenia  litoribus. 

Cedite  Romani  scriptores,  cedite  Graii, 

Nescio  quid  maius  nascitur  lliade ! 


1  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  his  identity  with  Horace's  bore,  and  it  doe* 
not  seem  very  probable,  the  passage,  Ep.  II.  ii.  101,  almost  certainly  refers 
to  him,  and  illustrates  his  love  of  vain  praise. 

2  Merivale  has  noticed  this  in  his  eighth  volume  of  the  History  of  tho 
Romans. 

■  As  instances  of  his  powerful  rhythm,  we  may  select  Cam  moribund* 
niger  clauderet  ora  liquor ;  Et  graviora  rependit  iniquis  pensa  quasiilis : 
Non  exorato  stant  adamante  viae /  and  many  such  pentameters  as  Mundui 
iemissis  institor  in  tunicis  ;  Candida  ptcrpureis  mixta  papaveribv,* 

4  See  El.  I.  ii.  15,  sqq.]  I.  iii.  1-8,  &c. 

•  lb.  ii.  34,  61. 


804         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE, 

Tu  cams  umbrosi  subter  pineta  Galesi 

Tkyrsin  et  attritis  Daphuin  arundinibus, 
Utque  decern  possint  corrampere  mala  puellM, 

Missus  et  impressis  haedus  ab  uberibus. 
Felix  qui  viles  pomis  mercaris  amores ! 

Huic  licet  ingratae  Tityrus  ipse  carat. 
Felix  intactum  Corydon  qui  tentat  Alexin 

Agricolae  domini  carpere  delicias. 
Quamvis  ille  sua  lassus  requiescat  avena, 

Laudatur  faciles  inter  Hamadryadas. 
Tu  canis  Ascraei  veteris  praecepta  poetae, 

Quo  seges  in  campo,  quo  viret  uva  iugo. 
Tale  facis  carmen,  docta  testudine  quale 

Cynthius  impositis  temperat  articulis." 

The  elegies  that  show  his  characteristics  best  are  the  second  of 
the  first  book,  where  he  prays  his  lady  to  dress  modestly ;  the 
seventeenth,  where  he  rebukes  himself  for  having  left  her  side ; 
the  twentieth,  where  he  tells  the  legend  of  Hylas  with  great 
pictorial  power  and  with  the  finest  triumphs  of  rhythm;  the 
beautiful  lament  for  the  death  of  Paetus ; *  the  dream  in  which 
Cynthia's  shade  comes  to  give  him  warning ; 2  and  the  patriotic 
elegy  which  begins  the  last  book.  Maecenas,3  it  appears,  had 
tried  to  persuade  him  to  attempt  heroic  poetry,  from  which  un- 
congenial task  he  excuses  himself,  much  as  Horace  had  done. 

In  reading  these  poets  we  are  greatly  struck  by  the  free  and 
easy  way  in  which  they  borrow  thoughts  from  one  another.  A 
good  idea  was  considered  common  property,  and  a  happy  phrase 
might  be  adopted  without  theft.  Virgil  now  and  then  appro- 
priates a  word  from  Horace,  Horace  somewhat  oftener  one  from 
Virgil,  Tibullus  from  both.  Propertius,  who  is  less  original,  has 
many  direct  imitations,  and  Ovid  makes  free  with  some  of  Virgil 
and  Tibullus's  finest  lines.  This  custom  was  not  thought  to 
detract  from  the  writer's  independence,  inasmuch  as  each  had 
his  own  domain,  and  borrowed  only  where  he  would  be  equally 
ready  to  give.  It  was  otherwise  with  those  thriftless  bards  so 
roughly  dealt  with  by  Horace  in  his  nineteenth  Epistle — 

u  0  imitatores,  servum  pecus !  ut  mihi  saepe 
Bilem,  saepe  iocum  movistis." 

the  Baviad  and  Maeviad  of  the  Eoman  poet-world.  These  lay 
outside  the  charmed  sphere,  and  the  hands  they  laid  on  the  works 
of  those  who  wrought  within  it  were  sacrilegious.  In  the  next 
ago  we  shall  see  how  imitation  of  these  great  masters  had  become 
a  regular  department  of  composition,  so   that   Quintilian  givei 

lEL  iii.  (iv.)6(7).  Mb.  v.  (iv.)  7. 

1  lb.  iv.  (iii.)  8  (9).     Two  or  three  other  elegies  are  addressed  to  him. 


LIFE  DF  OVID.  303 

elaborate  rules  for  making  a  proper  use  of  it  At  this  time 
originality  consisted  in  introducing  some  new  form  of  Greek  song. 
Virgil  made  Theocritus  and  Hesiod  speak  in  Latin.  Horace  had 
brought  over  the  old  Aeolian  bards ;  Propertius,  too,  must  make 
his  boast  of  having  enticed  Callimachus  to  the  Tiber's  banks — 

"  Primus  ego  ingredior  puro  de  fonte  sacerdos 
Itala  per  Graios  orgia  ferre  choros.1 

In  the  Middle  Ages  he  was  almost  lost ;  a  single  copy,  defaced 
with  mould  and  almost  illegible,  was  found  in  a  wine  cellar  in 
Italy,  1451  a.d.  Quintilian  tells  us  there  were  some  in  his  day 
who  preferred  him  to  Tibullus. 

The  same  critic's  remark  on  the  brilliant  poet  who  now  comes 
before  us,  P.  Ovidius  Naso,  is  as  follows  :  "  Ovidius  utroque  lasci- 
vior"  and  he  could  not  have  given  a  terser  or  more  comprehensive 
criticism.  Of  all  Latin  poets,  not  excepting  even  Plautus,  Ovid 
possesses  in  the  highest  degree  the  gift  of  facility.  His  words 
probably  express  the  literal  truth,  when  he  says — 


<« 


Sponte  sua  carmen  numeros  veniebat  ad  aptos, 
Et  quod  tentabam  seribere  versus  erat." 


This  incorrigibly  immoral  but  inexpressibly  graceful  poet  was  bom 
at  Sulmo  in  the  Pelignian  territory  43  B.C.  of  wealthy  parents, 
whose  want  of  liberality  during  his  youthful  career  he  deplores, 
but  by  which  he  profited  after  their  death.  Of  equestrian  rank, 
with  good  introductions  and  brilliant  talents,  he  was  expected  to 
devote  himself  to  the  duties  of  publio  life.  At  first  he  studied 
for  the  bar;  but  so  slight  was  his  ambition  and  so  unfitted  was  his 
genius  for  even  the  moderate  degree  of  severe  reasoning  required 
by  his  profession,  that  he  soon  abandoned  it  in  disgust,  and  turned 
to  the  study  of  rhetoric.  For  some  time  he  declaimed  under  the 
first  masters,  Arellius  Fuscus  and  Porcius  Latro,2  and  acquired  a 
power  of  brilliant  improvisation  that  caused  him  to  be  often 
quoted  in  the  schools,  and  is  evidenced  by  many  reminiscences  in 
the  writings  of  the  elder  Seneca.3  A  short  time  was  spent  by  him; 
according  to  custom,  at  Athens,4  and  while  in  Greece  he  took  the 
opportunity  of  visiting  the  renowned  cities  of  Asia  Minor.  He 
also  spent  some  time  in  Sicily,  and  returned  to  Rome  probably  at 
the  age  of  23  or  24,  where  he  allowed  himself  to  be  nominated 
triumvir  capitalist  decemvir  litibus  iudicondis,  and  centumvir,  in 
quick  succession.  But  in  spite  of  the  remonstances  of  his  friends 
he  finally  gave  up  all  active  work,  and  began  that  series  of  love- 
poems  which  was  at  once  the  cause  of  his  popularity  and  of  his  fall* 

1  ir.  (iii.)  1,  3.  *  On  these  see  next  chapter,  p.  320. 

»  See  Contr.  ii.  11.  *  Trist.  I.  ii.  77. 

V 


306  HISTORY  OF  ROM  IN  LITERATURE. 

His  first  mistress  was  a  lady  whom  lie  calls  Corinna ,  but  wliOf*  rail 
name  is  not  known.  That  she  was  a  member  of  the  demi-mondt 
is  probable  from  this  fact ;  as  also  from  the  poet's  strong  assertion 
that  ho  had  never  been  guilty  of  an  intrigue  with  a  married 
woman.  The  class  to  which  she  belonged  were  mostly  Greek* 
or  Easterns,  beautiful  and  accomplished,  often  poetesses,  and 
mingling  with  these  seductive  qualities  the  fickleness  and  greed 
natural  to  their  position,  of  which  Ovid  somewhat  unreasonably 
complains.  To  her  are  dedicated  the  great  majority  of  the  Amoves, 
his  earliest  extant  work.  These  elegant  but  lascivious  poems, 
some  of  which  perhaps  were  the  same  which  he  recited  to  largo 
audiences  as  early  as  his  twenty-second  year,  were  published  13 
B.c,  and  consisted  at  first  of  five  books,  which  he  afterwards 
reduced  to  three.1  JSTo  sooner  were  they  before  the  public  than 
they  became  universally  popular,  combining  as  they  do  the  per- 
sonal experiences  already  made  familiar  to  Roman  audiences 
through  Tibullus  and  Prop<  rtius,  with  a  levity,  a  dash,  a  gaiety, 
and  a  brilliant  polish,  far  surpassing  .anything  that  his  more  serious 
predecessors  had  attained.  During  their  composition  he  was 
smitten  with  the  desire  (perhaps  owing  to  his  Asiatic  tour)  to 
write  an  epic  poem  on  the  wars  of  the  gods  and  giants,  but 
Corinna,  determined  to  keep  his  muse  for  herself,  would  not  allow 
him  to  gratify  it.2 

The  Heroides  or  love-letters  from  mythological  heroines^  to  their 
(mostly)  faithless  spouses,  are  declared  by  Ovid  to  be  an  original 
importation  from  Greece.3  They  are  erotic  suasoriae,  based  on 
the  declamations  of  the  schools,  and  are  perhaps  the  best  appre- 
ciated of  all  his  compositions.  They  present  the  Greek  mythology 
under  an  entirely  new  phase  of  treatment.  Virgil  had  complained4 
that  its  resources  were  used  up,  and  in  Propertius  we  already  see 
that  allusive  way  of  dealing  with  it  which  savours  of  a  general 
satiety.  But  in  Ovid's  hands  the  old  myths  became  young  again, 
indeed,  younger  than  ever ;  and  people  wonder  they  could  ever 
have  lost  their  interest.  His  method  is  the  reverse  of  Virgil's  or 
Livy's.5  They  take  pains  to  make  themselves  ancient  \  he,  with 
wanton  effrontery,  makes  the  myths  modern.  Jupiter,  Juno,  the 
whole  circle  of  Olympus,  are  transformed  into  the  hommes  et 
femmes  galantes  of  Augustus's  court,  and  their  history  into  a 
thronique  scandaleuse.     The  immoral  incidents,  round  which  a 

1  So  sa)r8  the  introduction  ;  but  it  is  of  very  doubtful  authenticity. 
»  Am.  II.  i.  11. 

*  A  A  III.  34C,  ignotum  hoc  aliis  ille  novavit  opus.         4  G.  iii  4,  sqq. 

•  These  remark*  a^ply  equally  to  the  Metauiornho  jes,  and  indeed  to  eX 
Orid'i  works. 


THE  ART  OF  LOVE.  307 

▼eil  of  poetic  sanctity  had  been  cast  by  the  great  cmseerator  time, 
are  here  displayed  in  all  their  mundane  pruriency.  In  the  Meta- 
morphoses Jupiter  is  introduced  as  smitten  with  the  love  of  a 
nymph,  Dictynna;  some  compunctions  of  conscience  seize  him,  and 
the  image  of  Juno's  wrath  daunts  him,  but  he  finally  overcome! 
his  fear  with  these  words — 

"  Hoc  furtum  certe  coniux  mea  nesciet  (inquit) ; 
Aut  si  rescierit,  sunt  0  sunt  iurgia  tanti  ? " 

So,  in  the  Heroides,  the  idea  of  the  desolate  and  love-lorn  Ariadne 
writing  a  letter  from  the  barren  isle  of  Naxos  is  in  itself  ridiculous, 
nor  can  all  the  pathos  of  her  grief  redeem  the  irony.  Helen 
wishes  she  had  had  more  practice  in  correspondence,  so  that  she 
might  perhaps  touch  her  lover's  chilly  heart.  Ovid  using  the 
language  of  mythology,  reminds  us  of  those  heroes  of  Dickens 
who  preface  their  communications  by  a  wink  of  intelligence. 

His  next  venture  was  of  a  more  compromising  character.  In- 
toxicated with  popularity,  he  devoted  three  long  poems  to  a 
systematic  treatment  of  the  Art  of  Love,  on  which  he  lavished  all 
the  graces  of  his  wayward  talent,  and  a  combination  of  mytho- 
logical, literary,  and  social  allusion,  that  seemed  to  mark  him  out 
for  better  things.  He  is  careful  to  remark  at  the  outset  that  this 
poem  is  not  intended  for  the  virtuous.  The  frivolous  gallants, 
whose  sole  end  in  life  is  dissipation,  with  the  objects  of  their 
licentious  passion,  are  the  readers  for  whom  he  caters.  But  he 
had  overshot  his  mark.  The  Amoves  had  been  tolerated,  for  they 
had  followed  precedent.  But  even  they  had  raised  him  enemies. 
The  Art  of  Love  produced  a  storm  of  indignation,  and  without 
doubt  laid  the  foundations  of  that  severe  displeasure  on  the 
part  of  Augustus,  which  found  vent  ten  years  later  in  a  terrible 
punishment.  For  Ovid  was  doing  his  best  to  render  the  emperor  s 
reforms  a  dead  letter.  It  was  difficult  enough  to  get  the  laws 
enforced,  even  with  the  powerful  sanction  of  a  public  opinion 
guided  by  writers  like  Horace  and  Virgil.  But  here  was  a  brillian 
poet  setting  his  face  right  against  the  emperor's  wilL  The 
necessity  of  marriage  had  been  preached  with  enthusiasm  by  two 
unmarried  poets;  a  law  to  the  same  effect  had  been  passed  by  two 
unmarried  consuls  j1  a  moral  regime  had  been  inaugurated  by  a 
prince  whose  own  morals  were  or  had  been  more  than  dubious. 
All  this  was  difficult;  but  it  had  been  done.  And  now  the 
insidious  attractions  of  vice  were  flaunted  in  the  most  glowing 
colours  in  the  face  of  day.  The  young  of  both  sexes  yielded  ta 
the  charm.     And  wh\t  was  worse,  the  emperor's  own  daughter 

1  l*x  Papit.-Poppaea 


508  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

whom  he  had  forced  to  stay  at  home  carding  wool,  to  wear  onty 
such  garments  a?  were  spun  in  the  palace,  to  affect  an  almost 
prudish  delicacy,  the  proud  and  lovely  Julia,  had  been  detected  in 
such  profligacy  as  poured  bitter  satire  on  the  old  monarch's  moral 
discipline,  and  bore  speaking  witness  to  the  power  of  an  inherited 
tendency  to  vice.  The  emperor's  awful  severity  bespoke  not 
merely  the  aggrieved  father  but  the  disappointed  statesman.  Julia 
had  disgraced  his  home  and  ruined  his  policy,  and  the  fierce  resent- 
ment  which  rankled  in  his  heart  only  waited  its  time  to  hurst 
forth  upon  the  man  who  had  laboured  to  make  impurity  attrac- 
tive.1 Meanwhile  Ovid  attempted,  two  years  later,  a  sort  of  recan- 
tation in  the  Remedia  Anions,  the  frivolity  of  which,  however, 
renders  it  as  immoral  as  its  predecessor  though  less  gross;  and  he 
finished  his  treatment  of  the  subject  with  the  Medicamina  Faciei, 
a  sparkling  and  caustic  quasi-didactic  treatise,  of  which  only  a 
fragment  survives.2  During  this  period  (we  know  not  exactly 
when)  was  composed  the  tragedy  of  Medea,  which  ancient  critics 
seem  to  have  considered  his  greatest  work.3  Alone  of  his  writings 
it  showed  his  genius  in  restraint,  and  though  we  should  probably 
form  a  lower  estimate  of  its  excellence,  we  may  regret  that  time  has 
not  spared  it.  Among  other  works  written  at  this  time  was  an 
elegy  on  the  death  of  Mcssala  (3  A.D.),  as  we  learn  from  the 
letters  from  Pontus.4  Soon  after  he  seems,  like  Prince  Henry,  to 
have  determined  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  and  abandon  his  old 
acquaintances.  Virgil,  Horace,  and  Tibullus,  were  dead;  there 
was  no  poet  of  eminence  to  assist  the  emperor  by  his  pen.  Ovid 
was  beyond  doubt  the  best  qualified  by  his  talent,  but  Augustus 
had  not  noticed  him.  He  turned  to  patriotic  themes  in  order  to 
attract  favourable  notice,  and  began  his  great  work  on  the  national 
calendar.  Partly  after  the  example  of  Propertius,  partly  by  his 
own  predilection,  he  kept  to  the  elegiac  metre,  though  he  is 
conscious  of  its  betraying  him  into  occasional  frivolous  or  amatory 
passages  where  he  ought  to  be  grave.5  "  Who  would  have  thought 
(he  says)  that  from  a  poet  of  love  I  should  have  become  a  patriotic 
bard]"6  While  writing  the  Fasti  he  seems  to  have  worked  also 
at  the  Metamorphoses,  a  heroic  poem  in  fifteen  books,  entirely 
devoted  to  mythological  stories,  mostly  of  transformations  caused 
by  the  love  or  jealousy  of  divine  wooers,  or  the  vengeance  of 

1  It  is  probable  that  the  Art  o/Love^as  published  3  B.C.,  the  year  of  Julia's 
exile. 

2  Some  have,  quite  without  i  ue  grounds,  question*  d  the  authenticity  of 
this  fragment. 

»  Tac.  De  Or.  xiii ;  Quint  X.  i.  98.  «  i.  vii.  27. 

•  See  the  wittv  invocation  to  Venus,  Bk.  IV.  init.  •  F.  ii.  8. 


nis  exile.  309 

their  aggrieve  A  spouses.  There  are  passages  in  this  long  work  of 
exceeding  beauty,  and  a  prodigal  wealth  of  poetical  ornament, 
which  has  made  it  a  mine  for  modern  poets.  Tasso,  Ariosto, 
Guarini,  Spenser,  Milton,  have  all  drunk  deep  of  this  rich  foun- 
tain.1 The  skill  with  which  the  different  legends  are  woven  into 
the  fabric  of  the  composition  is  as  marvellous  as  the  frivolous 
dilettantism  which  could  treat  a  long  heroic  poem  in  such  a  way. 
The  Metamorphoses  were  finished  before  7  A.D. ;  the  Fasti  were 
only  advanced  to  the  end  of  the  sixth  book,  when  all  further  prose- 
cution of  them  was  stopped  by  the  terrible  news,  which  struck  the 
poet  like  a  thunderbolt,  that  he  was  ordered  to  leave  Eome  for- 
ever. The  cause  of  his  exile  has  been  much  debated.  The  osten- 
sible ground  was  the  immorality  of  his  writings,  and  especially  of 
the  Art  of  Love,  but  it  has  generally  been  taken  for  granted  that  a 
deeper  and  more  personal  reason  lay  behind.  Ovid's  own  hints 
imply  that  his  eyes  had  been  witness  to  something  that  they  should 
not,  which  he  calls  a  crimen  (i.e.  a  crime  against  the  emperor).2 
The  most  probable  theory  is  that  Augustus  took  advantage  of 
Ovid's  complicity  in  the  younger  Julia's  misconduct  to  wreak  the 
full  measure  of  his  long-standing  indignation  against  the  poet, 
whose  evil  counsels  had  helped  to  lead  astray  not  only  her  but  his 
daughter  also.  He  banished  him  to  Tomi,  an  inhospitable  spot 
not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  Danube,  and  remained  deaf  to  all 
the  piteous  protestations  and  abject  flatteries  which  for  ten  years 
the  miserable  poet  poured  forth. 

This  punishment  broke  Ovid's  spirit.  He  had  been  the  spoilt 
child  of  society,  and  he  had  no  heart  for  any  life  but  that  of 
Rome.  He  pined  away  amid  the  hideous  solitudes  and  the  bar- 
barous companionship  of  Goths  and  Sarmatians.  His  very  genius 
was  wrecked.  Not  a  single  poem  of  merit  to  be  compared  with 
those  of  former  times  now  proceeded  from  his  pen.  Nevertheless 
he  continued  to  write  as  fluently  as  before.  Now  that  he  was 
absent  from  his  wife — for  he  had  been  thrice  married — this  very 
undomestic  poet  discovered  that  he  had  a  deep  affection  for  her. 
He  wrote  her  endearing  letters,  and  reminded  her  of  their  happy 
hours.  As  she  was  a  lady  of  high  position  and  a  friend  of  the 
Empress  Livia,  he  no  doubt  hoped  for  her  good  offices.     But  her 

1  The  most  beautiful  portions  are  perhaps  the  following: — The  Story  of 
Phaethon  (ii-  1),  the  Golden  Age  (i.  89),  Py ramus  and  Thisbe  (iv.  55).  Baucii 
and  Philemon,  a  rustic  idyl  (viii.  628),  Narcissus  at  the  Fountain  (iii.  407), 
The  Cave  of  Sleep  (xi.  592),  Daedalus  and  Icarus  (viii.  152),  Cephalus  ami 
Procris  (vii.  661),  The  passion  of  Medea  (vii.  11),  from  which  we  may  glean 
some  idea  of  his  tragedy. 

2  The  chief  passages  1  earing  on  it  are,  Tr.  II.  103;  III.  ▼.  49;  VI.  27* 
IV.  x.  90.     Pont.  1.  vi.  25  j  II.  ix.  75  ;  III.  iii.  75. 


310  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

prudence  surpassed  her  conjugal  devotion.  Neither  she,  nor  thi 
noble  and  influential  friends1  whom  he  implored  in  piteous  accents 
to  intercede  for  him,  ever  ventured  to  approach  the  emperor  ou  a 
subject  on  which  he  was  known  to  be  inexorable.  And  when 
Augustus  died  and  Tiberius  succeeded,  the  vain  hopes  thi  t  had 
hitherto  buoyed  up  Ovid  seem  to  have  quite  faded  away.  From 
such  a  man  it  was  idle  to  expect  mercy.  So,  for  two  or  three 
years  the  wretched  poet  lingered  on,  itill  solacing  himself  with 
verse,  and  with  the  kindness  of  the  natives,  who  sought  by  every 
means  to  do  him  honour  and  soothe  his  misfortune,  and  then,  in 
the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  17  A.D.,  he  died,  and  was  buried  in 
the  place  of  his  dreary  exile. 

Much  as  we  may  blame  him,  the  severity  of  his  punishment 
seems  far  too  great  for  his  offence,  since  Ovid  is  but  the  child  of 
his  age.  In  praising  him,  society  praised  itself ;  as  he  says  with 
natural  pride,  "The  fame  that  others  gain  after  death,  I  have 
known  in  my  lifetime."  He  was  of  a  thoroughly  happy,  thought- 
less, genial  temper ;  before  his  reverse  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
known  a  care.  His  profligacy  cost  him  no  repentance ;  he  could 
not  see  that  he  had  done  wrong ;  indeed,  according  to  the  lax 
notious  of  the  time,  his  conduct  had  been  above  rather  than  below 
the  general  standard  of  dissipated  men.  The  palliations  he  alleges 
in  the  second  book  of  the  Trtstia,  which  is  the  best  authority  for 
his  life,  are  in  point  of  fact,  unanswerable.  To  regard  his  age  as 
wicked  or  degenerate  never  entered  into  his  head.  He  delighted 
in  it  as  the  most  refined  that  the  world  had  ever  known ;  "  It  is," 
he  says  jokingly,  "the  true  Golden  Age,  for  every  pleasure  that 
exists  may  be  got  for  gold."  So  wedded  was  he  to  literary  com- 
position that  he  learnt  the  Sarmatian  language  and  wrote  poems 
in  it  in  honour  of  Augustus,  the  loss  of  which,  from  a  philological 
point  of  view,  is  greatly  to  be  regretted.  His  muse  must  be  con- 
sidered as  at  home  in  the  salons  &nd  fashionable  coteries  of  the 
great.  Though  his  style  is  so  facile,  it  is  by  no  means  simple. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  one  of  the  most  artificial  ever  created,  and 
could  never  have  been  attained  at  all  but  by  a  natural  aptitude, 
backed  by  hard  study,  amid  highly-polished  surroundings  from 
childhood.  These  Ovid  had,  and  he  wielded  his  brilliant  instru 
ment  to  perfection.  What  euphuism  was  to  the  Elizabethan 
courtiers,  what  the  langue  galante  was  to  the  court  of  Louis  XIV., 
the  mythological  dialect  was  to  the  gay  circles  of  aristocratic  Rome.* 

1  Such  names  as  Messala,  Ghraecinus,  Fompeiiu,  Cotta,  Fabius  Maxtmus 
occur  in  hia  Epistles. 

2  This  continual  dwelling  on  mythological  allusions  is  sometimes  qnitf 
ludicrous,  e.g.,  when  he  sees  the  Hellespont  frozen  over,  his  first  thought  is, 


POEMS  ATTRIBUTED  TO  OMD.  3 LI 

It  was  select,  polished,  and  spiced  with  a  flavour  of  profanity, 
Hence,  Ovid  could  never  be  a  popular  poet,  for  a  poet  to  be  really 
popular  must  be  either  serious  or  genuinely  humorous ;  whereas 
Ovid  is  neither.  His  irony,  exquisitely  ludicrous  to  those  who 
can  appreciate  it,  falls  flat  upon  less  cultivated  minds,  and  the  lack 
of  strength  that  lies  beneath  his  smooth  exterior1  would  unfit  him, 
even  if  his  immorality  did  not  stand  in  the  way,  for  satisfying  or 
even  pleasing  the  mass  of  mankind. 

The  Ibis  and  HaUeuticon  were  composed  during  his  exile ;  the 
former  is  a  satiric  attack  upon  a  person  r  jw  unknown,  the  latter  a 
prosaic  account  of  the  fish  found  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Tomi. 

Appended  to  Ovid's  works  are  several  graceful  poems  which 
have  put  forward  a  claim  to  be  his  workmanship.  His  great 
popularity  among  the  schools  of  the  rhetoricians  both  in  Rome 
and  the  provinces,  caused  many  imitations  to  be  circulated  under 
his  name.  The  most  ancient  of  these  is  the  Nux  elegia,  which,  if 
not  Ovid's,  must  be  very  shortly  posterior  to  him ;  it  is  the  com- 
plaint of  a  walnut  tree  on  the  harsh  treatment  it  has  to  suffer, 
sometimes  in  very  difficult  verse,2  but  not  inelegant.  Some  of  the 
Priapeia  are  also  attributed  to  him,  perhaps  with  reason ;  the 
Consolatio  ad  Liviam,  on  the  death  of  Drusus,  is  a  clever  produc- 
tion of  the  Eenaissance  period,  full  of  reminiscences  of  Ovid's 
verse,  much  as  the  Ciris  is  filled  with  reminiscences  of  Virgil.3 

Ovid  was  the  most  brilliant  figure  in  a  gay  circle  of  erotic  and 
epic  poets,  many  of  whom  he  has  handed  down  in  his  Epistles, 
others  have  transmitted  a  few  fragments  by  which  we  can  estimate 
their  power.  The  eldest  was  Ponticus,  who  is  also  mentioned  by 
Prnpertius  as  an  epic  writer  of  some  pretensions.  Another  was 
Macer,  whose  ambition  led  him  to  group  together  the  epic  legends 
antecedent  and  subsequent  to  those  narrated  in  the  Iliad  and 

"  Winter  was  the  time  for  Leander  to  have  gone  to  Hero  :  there  would  have 
been  no  fear  of  drowning  ! " 

1  His  abject  flatten'  of  Augustus  hardly  needs  remark.  It  was  becoming 
the  regular  court  language  to  address  him  as  Jupiter  or  Tonans:  when  Virgil, 
at  the  very  time  that  Octavius's  hands  were  red  with  the  proscriptions,  eculd 
call  him  a  god  (semper  erit  Deus\  we  cannot  wonder  at  Ovid  fifty  years  liter 
doing  the  same. 

2  E.g.  69-90. 

*  We  may  notice  with  regard  to  the  Ciris  that  it  is  very  much  in  Ovid's 
manner,  though  far  inferior.  I  think  it  may  be  fixed  with  certainty  to  a 
period  succeeding  the  publication  of  the  Metamorphoses.  The  address  to 
Messala,  v.  54,  is  a  mere  blind.  The  goddess  Sophia  indicates  a  later  view 
than  Ovid,  but  not  necessarily  post-Augustan.  The  goddess  Crataeis  (from 
the  eleventh  Odyssey),  v.  67,  is  a  novelty.  The  frivolous  and  pedantic  object 
of  the  poem  (to  set  right  a  confusion  in  the  myths),  makes  it  possible  that" 
it  was  produced  under  the  hligh'mg  government  of  Tiberius,  Its  continual 
imitations  m^ke  it  almost  a  Virgiliau  Cento. 


312  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Odyssey*  There  was  a  Pompeius  Macer,  an  excellent  man,  who 
with  his  son  committed  suicide  under  Tiberius,1  his  daughtei 
having  been  accused  of  high  treason,  and  unable  to  clear  herseli 
The  son  is  probably  identical  with  this  friend  of  Ovid's.  Sabinus, 
another  of  his  intimates,  who  wrote  answers  to  the  Heroides,  wa* 
equally  conspicuous  in  heroic  poetry.  The  title  of  his  poem  is 
not  known.  Some  think  it  was  Troezen  ;2  but  the  text  is  corrupt* 
Ovid  implies3  that  his  rescripts  to  the  Heroides  were  complete ;  it 
is  a  misfortune  that  we  have  lost  them.  The  three  poems  that 
bear  the  title  of  A.  &ibini  Epistolae,  and  are  often  bound  with  Ovid's 
works,  are  the  production  of  an  Italian  scholar  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  Tuticanus,  who  was  born  in  the  same  year  with  Ovid, 
and  may  perhaps  have  been  the  author  of  Tibullus's  third  book,  is 
included  in  the  last  epistle  from  Pontus4  among  epic  bards. 
Cornelius  Severus,  a  better  versifier  than  poet,5  wrote  a  Sicilian 
War,6  of  which  the  first  book  was  extremely  good.  In  it  occurred 
the  verses  on  the  death  of  Cicero,  quoted  by  the  elder  Seneca7 
with  approbation : 

Oraque  magnanimum  spirantia  paene  virorum 
In  rostris  iacuere  suis :  sed  enim  abstulit  cniniSj 
Tanquam  sola  foret,  rapti  Ciceronis  imago. 
Tunc  redeunt  animis  ingentia  consul  is  acta 
Iurataeque  manns  deprensaque  foedera  noxae 
Patriciumque  nefas  extinctum  :  poena  Cethegi 
Deiectusque  redit  votis  Catilina  nefandis. 
Quid  favor  aut  coetus,  pleni  quid  honoribns  anni 
Profuerant  ?  sacris  exculta  quid  artibus  aetasl 
Abstulit  una  dies  aevi  decus,  ictaque  luctu 
Conticuit  Latiae  tristis  facundia  linguae. 
Unica  sollicitis  quondam  tutela  salusque, 
Egregium  semper  patriae  caput,  ille  senatui 
Vindex,  ille  fori,  legum  ritusque  togaeque, 
Publica  vox  saevis  aeternum  obmutuit  armil, 
Informes  voltus  sparsamque  cruore  nefando 
Canitiem  sacrasque  manus  operumque  miuistrai 
Tantorum  pedibus  civis  proiecta  superbis 
Prooulcavit  ovans  nee  lubrica  fata  deosque 
Respexit.     Nullo  luet  hoc  Antonius  aevo. 
Hoc  nee  in  Emathio  mitis  victoria  Perse, 
Nee  te,  dire  Syphax,  non  fecerat  hoste  Philippo ; 
Inque  triumphato  ludibria  cuncta  lugurtha 
Afuerant.  nostraeque  cadens  ferus  Hannibal  irae 
Membra  tamen  Stygias  tulit  inviolata  sub  umbras. 

From  these  it  will  be  seen  that  he  was  a  poet  of  considerable 
power.      Another  epicist  of  some  celebrity,  whom  Quintilian 

1  Tac.  Ann.  vi.  18.  ■  Pont  IV.  xvi.  »  Am.  II.  xviiL  27. 

4  IV.  xvi.  27.  *  Quint.  X.  i.  89. 

•  I.e.  that  waged  with  Sextus  Ponipey.  7  Suas.  vL  26. 


GRATIUS.  313 

thought  worth  reading,  was  Pedo  Albinovanus  ;  he  was  also  an 
epigrammatist,  and  in  conversation  remarkable  for  his  brilliant  wit. 
There  is  an  Albums  mentioned  by  Priscian  who  is  perhaps  in- 
tended for  him.  Other  poets  referred  to  in  the  long  list  which 
closes  the  letters  from  Pontus  are  Eufus,  Laegus,  probably  the 
perfidious  friend  of  Gallus  so  mercilessly  sketched  by  Bekker, 
Camerinus,  Lupus,  and  Montanus.  All  these  are  little  more  than 
names  for  us.  The  references  to  them  in  succeeding  writers  will  be 
found  in  Teuffel.  Eabirius  is  worth  remarking  for  the  extra- 
ordinary impression  he  made  on  his  contemporaries.  Ovid  speaks 
of  him  as  Magni  Rablrius  oris}  a  high  compliment ;  and  Velleius 
Paterculus  goes  so  far  as  to  couple  him  with  Virgil  as  the  best 
representative  of  Augustan  poetry  !  His  Alexandrian  War  was 
perhaps  drawn  from  his  own  experience,  though,  if  so,  he  must 
have  been  a  very  young  man  at  the  time. 

From  an  allusion  in  Ovid2  we  gather  that  Gratius3  was  a  poet 
of  the  later  Augustan  age.  His  work  on  the  chase  (Cynegetica)  has 
come  down  to  us  imperfect.  It  contains  little  to  interest,  notwith- 
standing the  attractiveness  of  its  subject :  but  in  truth  all  didactic 
poets  after  Virgil  are  without  freshness,  and  seem  depressed  rather 
than  inspired  by  his  success.  After  alluding  to  man's  early 
attempts  to  subdue  wild  beasts,  first  by  bodily  strength,  then  by 
rude  weapons,  he  shows  the  gradual  dominion  of  reason  in  this  as 
in  other  human  actions.  Diana  is  also  made  responsible  for  the 
huntsman's  craft,  and  a  short  mythological  digression  follows. 
Then  comes  a  description  of  the  chase  itself,  and  the  implements 
and  weapons  used  in  it.  The  list  of  trees  fitted  for  spearshafts 
(128-149),  one  of  the  best  passages,  will  show  his  debt  to  the 
Georgics — more  than  half  the  lines  show  traces  of  imitation. 
Next  we  have  the  different  breeds  of  dogs,  their  training,  their 
diseases,  and  general  supervision  discussed,  and  after  a  digression 
or  two — the  best  being  a  catalogue  of  the  evils  of  luxury — the 
poem  (as  we  possess  it)  ends  with  an  account  of  the  horses  best 
fitted  for  hunting.  The  technical  details  are  carefully  given,  and 
would  probably  have  had  some  value;  but  there  is  scarcely  a 
trace  of  poetic  enthusiasm,  and  only  a  moderate  elevation  of 
style. 

The  last  Augustan  poet  we  shall  notice  is  M.  Manilius,  whose 
dry  subject  has  caused  him  to  meet  with  very  general  neglect. 
His  date  was  considered  doubtful,  but  Jacob  has  shown  thi.t  he 
began  to  write  towards  the  close  of  Augustus's  reign.     The  first 

1  Pont.  VI.  xvi.  5.  ■  Pont.  VI.  xvi.  34. 

1  The  name  Faliscus  is  generally  attached  to  him,  but  apparently  without 
any  certain  authority. 


314  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

book  refers  to  the  defeat  of  Varus1  (7  a.d.),  to  wliich,  therefore,  it 
must  be  subsequent,  and  the  fourth  book  contemplates  Augustus 
as  still  alive,2  though  Tiberius  had  already  been  named  as  his  suc- 
cessor.3 The  fifth  book  must  have  appeared  after  the  interval  of 
Augustus's  death ;  and  from  one  passage  which  seems  to  allude 
to  the  destruction  of  Pompey's  theatre,4  Jacob  argues  that  it  was 
written  as  late  as  22  a.  d.  The  danger  of  treating  a  subject  on 
which  the  emperor  had  his  own  very  decided  views5  may  have 
deterred  Manilius  from  completing  his  work.  Literature  of  all 
kinds  was  silent  under  the  tyrant's  gloomy  frown,  and  the  weak 
style  of  this  last  book  seems  to  reflect  the  depressed  mind  of  its 
author. 

The  birth  and  parentage  of  Manilius  are  not  known.  That  he 
Jras  a  foreigner  is  probable,  both  from  the  uncoutlmess  of  his  style 
at  the  outset,  and  from  the  decided  improvement  in  it  that  can  be 
traced  through  succeeding  books.  Bentley  thought  him  an  Asiatic; 
if  so,  however,  his  lack  of  florid  ornament  would  be  strange.  It 
is  more  likely  that  he  was  an  African.  But  the  question  is  com- 
plicated by  the  corrupt  state  of  his  texf>  by  the  obscurity  of  his 
subject,  and  by  the  very  incomplete  knowledge  of  it  displayed  by 
the  author.  It  was  not  considered  necessary  to  have  mastered  a 
subject  to  treat  of  it  in  didactic  verse.  Cicero  expressly  instances 
Aratus6  as  a  man  who,  with  scarce  any  knowledge  of  astronomy, 
exercised  a  legitimate  poetical  ingenuity  by  versifying  such  know- 
ledge as  he  had.  These  various  causes  make  Manilius  one  of  the 
most  difficult  of  authors.  Few  can  wade  through  the  mingled 
solecisms  in  language  and  mistakes  in  science,  the  empty  verbiage 
that  dilates  on  a  platitude  in  one  place,  and  the  jejune  abstract 
that  hurries  over  a  knotty  argument  in  another,  without  regretting 
that  so  unreadable  a  poet  should  have  been  preserved.7 

*  I.  898.  f  IV.  935.  »  lb.  764.  *  V.  513. 

5  Manilius  hints  at  the  general  dislike  of  Tiberius  in  one  or  two  obscure 
passages,  e.g.  1.  455  ;  II.  290,  253 ;  where  the  epithets  tortus,  promts,  applied 
to  Capricorn,  which  was  Tiberius's  star,  hint  at  his  character  and  his  dis- 
grace.    Cf.  also,  I.  926.  6  De  Or.  I.  16. 

7  It  may  interest  the  reader  to  catalogue  some  of  his  peculiarities.  We 
find  admota  moenibus  arma(W.  37),  a  phrase  unknown  to  military  language; 
arrMguus terras  (II  23J),  agilcs  metae  Phocbi  (I.  199)  =  cireum  quas  agiliter 
se  vertit ;  kolertia  faeit  arles  (I.  73)  =  invenit.  Attempts  at  brevity  like 
fallentc  solo  (I.  240)  =  Soli  declivitas  nos  longitudine  fallens  ;  Moenia  ferena 
(I.  781 )  =- rnuralem  coronam  ;  iniequales  Cycladcs  (iv.  637),  i.e.  abinaequalibut 
procellis  vexatae,  a  reminiscence  from  Hor.  (Od.  II.  ix.  3).  Construction* 
verging  on  the  illegitimate,  as  sciet,  quae  poena  sequetur  (iv.  210);nota  aperire 
viavi,  sc.  sidera(I.  31);  Sibi  nullo  mojistrante  loquuntur  Neptuno  debere  genut 
(II.  223);  Suus  foreius(IV.  886);  nostrumque parentem  Pars  sua  perspicimuM 
The  number  might  be  indefinitely  increased.     See  Jacob's  full  index. 


MAJSILIUS.  315 

And  yet  his  book  is  not  altogether  without  interest.  The  sub- 
ject is  called  Astronomy,  but  should  rather  be  called  Astrology, 
for  more  than  half  the  space  is  taken  up  with  these  baseless 
theories  of  sidereal  influence  which  belong  to  the  imaginary  side 
of  the  science.  But  in  the  exordia  and  perorations  to  the  ssveral 
books,  as  well  as  in  sundry  digressions,  may  be  found  matter  of 
greater  value,  embodying  the  poet's  views  on  the  great  questions 
of  philosophy.1  On  the  whole  he  must  be  reckoned  as  a  Stoic, 
though  not  a  strictly  dogmatic  one.  He  begins  by  giving  the 
different  views  as  to  the  origin  of  the  world,  and  lays  it  down  that 
on  these  points  truth  cannot  be  attained.  The  universe,  he  goes 
on  to  say,  rests  on  no  material  basis,  much  less  need  we  suppose 
the  earth  to  need  one.  Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  whirl  about  with- 
out any  support ;  earth  therefore  may  well  be  supposed  to  do  the 
same.  The  earth  is  the  centre  of  the  universe,  whose  motions  are 
circular  and  imitate  those  of  the  gods.2  The  universe  is  not 
finite  as  some  Stoics  assert,  for  its  roundness  (which  is  proved  by 
Chrysippus)  implies  infinity.  Lucretius  is  wrong  in  denying 
antipodes;  they  follow  naturally  from  the  globular  shape,  from 
which  also  we  may  naturally  infer  that  seas  bind  together,  as  well 
as  separate,  nations.3  All  this  system  is  held  together  by  a 
spiritual  force,  which  he  calls  God,  governing  according  to  the 
law  of  reason.4  He  next  describes  the  Zodiac  and  enumerates  the 
chief  stars  with  their  influences.  Following  the  teaching  of 
Hegesianax,6  he  declares  that  those  which  bear  human  names  are 
superior  to  those  named  after  beasts  or  inanimate  things.  The 
study  of  the  stars  was  a  gift  direct  from  heaven.  Kings  first,  and 
after  them  priests,  were  guided  to  search  for  wisdom,  and  now 
Augustus,  who  is  both  supreme  ruler  and  supreme  pontiff,  follows 
his  divine  father  in  cultivating  this  great  science.  Mentioning 
some  of  the  legends  which  recount  the  transformations  of  mortals 
into  stars,  he  asserts  that  they  must  not  be  understood  in  too 
gross  a  sense.6  Nothing  is  more  wonderful  than  the  orderly 
movement  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  He  who  has  contemplated 
this  eternal  order  cannot  believe  the  Epicurean  doctrine.     Human 

1  These  are  worth  reading.  They  are— T.  1-250,  483-539  ;  II.  1-150, 
722-970;  III.  1-42  ;  IV.  1-118*  (the  most  elaborate  of  all),  866-935  ;  V. 
540-619,  the  account  of  Perseus  and  Andromeda. 

a  A  hint  borrowed  from  Plato's  Timaeus. 

8  I.  246.  An  instance  of  a  physical  conclusion  influencing  moral  or 
political  ones.  The  theory  that  seas  separate  countries  has  always  gone 
with  a  lack  of  progress,  and  vice  versa. 

4  Vis  animae  divina  regit,  mcroque  meatu  ConspinU  deus 
yiibernat  (I.  250). 

•  Hyg.  P. A.  ii.  14.  *L4 


316  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

generations  pass  away,  but  the  earth  and  the  stars  abide  for  ever, 
Surely  the  universe  is  divine.  Passing  on  to  the  milky  way,  he  givei 
two  fanciful  theories  of  its  origin,  one  that  it  is  the  rent  burnt  by 
Phaethon  through  the  firmament,  the  other  that  ?t  is  milk  from 
the  breast  of  Juno.  As  to  its  consistency,  he  wavers  between  the 
view  that  it  is  a  closely  packed  company  of  stars>  and  the  more 
poetical  one  that  it  is  formed  by  the  white-robed  souls  of  the  just. 
This  last  theory  leads  him  to  recount  in  a  dull  catalogue  the  well- 
worn  list  of  Greek  and  Roman  heroes.  Comets  are  mysterious 
bodies,  whose  origin  is  unknown.  The  universe  is  full  of  fiery 
particles  ever  tending  towards  conglomeration,  and  perhaps  theii 
impact  forms  comets.  "Whether  natural  or  supernatural,  one 
thing  is  certain — they  are  never  without  effect  on  mankind. 

In  the  second  book  he  begins  by  a  complaint  that  the  list  of 
attractive  subjects  is  exhausted.  This  incites  him  to  essay  an 
untried  path,  from  which  he  hopes  to  reap  no  stolen  laurels 1  as 
the  bard  of  the  universe ! 2  He  next  expounds  the  doctrine  of 
an  ever-present  spirit  moving  the  mass  of  matter,  in  language 
reflected  from  the  sixth  Aeneid.  Men  must  not  seek  for  mathe- 
matical demonstration.  Considerations  of  analogy  are  enough  to 
awaken  conviction.  The  fact  that,  e.g.,  shell-fish  are  affected  by 
the  moon,  and  that  all  land  creatures  depend  on  solar  influence, 
should  forbid  us  to  dissociate  earth  from  heaven,  or  man's  activity 
from  the  providence  of  the  gods.  How  could  man  have  any 
knowledge  of  deity  unless  he  partook  of  its  nature  1  The  rest  of 
the  book  gives  a  catalogue  of  the  different  kinds  of  stars,  their 
several  attributes,  and  their  astrological  classification,  ending  with 
the  Dodecatemorion  and  Odotopos. 

The  third  book,  after  a  short  and  offensively  allusive  descrip- 
tion of  the  labours  of  preceding  poets,  sketches  the  twelve  athla 
or  accidents  of  human  life,  to  each  of  which  is  assigned  its  special 
guardian  influence.  It  then  passes  to  the  horoscope,  which  it 
treats  at  length,  giving  minute  and  various  directions  how  to  draw 
it.  The  extreme  importance  attached  to  this  process  by  Tiberius, 
and  the  growing  frequency  with  which,  on  every  occasion,  Chal- 
deans and  Astrologers  were  now  consulted,  made  the  poet  specially 
careful  to  treat  this  subject  with  clearness  and  precision.  It  is 
accordingly  the  most  readable  of  all  the  purely  technical  parts  of 
the  work.  The  account  of  the  tropics,  with  which  the  book  closes, 
is  singularly  inaccurate,  but  contains  some  rather  elegant  descrip- 
tions : 3  at  the  tropic  of  Cancer  summer  always  reigns,  at  Capricorn 
there   is   perpetual   winter.      The   book   here   breaks   off  quits 

1 II.  68.  ■  Mundt  Votes,  II.  148. 

•  Kg.  that  of  spring,  V.  652-668. 


MANILIUS.  317 

abruptly;  apparently  he  intended  to  compose  the  crtlogue  at 
some  future  time,  but  had  no  opportunity  of  doing  it. 

The  exordium  to  the  fourth  book,  which  sometimes  rises  into 
eloquence,  glorifies  fate  as  the  ultimate  divine  power,  but  denies 
it  either  will  or  personality.  He  fortifies  his  argument,  according 
to  his  wont,  by  a  historical  catalogue,  which  exemplifies  the 
harshness  that,  except  in  philosophical  digressions,  rarely  leaves  his 
style.  Then  follow  the  horoscopic  properties  of  the  Zodiacal 
constellations,  the  various  reasons  for  desiring  to  be  born  under 
one  star  rather  than  another,  a  sort  of  horoscopico-zodiacal  account 
of  the  world,  its  physical  geography,  and  the  properties  of  the 
zones.  These  give  occasion  for  some  graphic  touches  of  history 
and  legend ;  the  diction  of  this  book  is  far  superior  to  that  of  the 
preceding  three,  but  the  wisdom  is  questionable  which  reserves 
the  "  good  wine  "  until  so  late.  Passing  on  to  the  ecliptic,  he  drags 
in  the  legends  of  Deucalion,  Phaethon,  and  others,  which  he  treats 
in  a  rhetorical  way,  and  concludes  the  book  with  an  appeal  to 
man's  reason,  and  to  the  necessity  of  allowing  the  mental  eye  free 
vision.  Somewhat  inconsistently  with  the  half-religious  attitude 
of  the  first  and  second  books,  he  here  preaches  once  more  the 
doctrine  of  irresistible  fate,  which  to  most  of  the  Eoman  poets 
occupies  the  place  of  God.  The  poem  practically  ends  here.  He 
himself  implies  at  the  opening  of  Book  V.,  that  most  poets  would 
not  have  pursued  the  theme  further ;  apparently  he  is  led  on  by  his 
interest  in  the  subject,  or  by  the  barrenness  of  his  invention 
which  could  suggest  no  other.  The  book,  which  is  unfinished, 
contains  a  description  of  various  stars,  with  legends  interspersed 
in  which  a  more  ambitious  style  appears,  and  a  taste  which, 
though  rhetorical  and  pedantic,  is  more  chastened  than  in  the 
earlier  books. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  resume  that  the  poem  discusses 
several  questions  of  great  interest.  Eising  above  the  technicali- 
ties of  the  science,  Manilius  tries  to  preach  a  theory  of  the 
universe  which  shall  displace  that  given  by  Lucretius.  He  is  a 
Stoic  combating  an  Epicurean.  A  close  study  of  Lucretius  is 
evidenced  by  numerous  passages,1  and  the  earnestness  of  his  moral 
conclusions  imitates,  though  it  does  not  approach  in  impressive- 
ness,  that  of  the  great  Epicurean.  Occasionally  he  imitates 
Horace,2  much  more  often  Virgil,  and,  in  the  legends,  Ovid.3 

1  E.g.  the  transitions  Nunc  age  (iii.  43),  Et  quoniam  dictum  est  (iii.  3S5)j 
Vercipe  (iv.  818),  &c. ;  the  frequent  use  of  alliteration  (L  7,  52,  57,  69,  63^ 
84,  110,  &c.) ;  of  asyndeton  (i.  34  ;  ii.  6) ;  polysyndeton  (i.  99,  *qq,). 

2  E.g.  pedibus  quid  iungere  certis  (iii.  35). 

3  E.g.  in  those  of  Phaethon,  and  Perseus  and  Andromeda. 


318  HISTOKY  OF  KOMAN  L1TKUATUKK. 

His  technical  manipulation  of  the  hexameter  is  good,  though 
tinged  with  monotony.  Occasionally  he  indulges  in  licenses  which 
mark  a  deficient  ear 1  or  an  imperfect  comprehension  of  the  theory 
of  quantity.2  He  has  few  archaisms,3  few  Greek  words,  consider- 
ing the  exigencies  of  his  subject,  and  his  vocabulary  is  greatly 
superior  to  his  syntax ;  the  rhetorical  colouring  which  pervades 
the  work  shows  that  he  was  educated  in  the  later  taste  of  the 
schools,  and  neither  could  understand  nor  desired  to  reproduce  the 
simplicity  of  Lucretius  or  Virgil4 

1  E.g.  alia  proseminat  usus  (i.  90) ;  inde  species  (ii.  155),  &c. 

2  Facis  ad  (i.  10) ;  caelum  et  (i.  795) ;  Conor  el  (in  thesi.  iii.  3) ;  pudent 
(iv.  403). 

8  E.g.  clepsisset  (i.  25);  itiner  (i.  88);  compagine  (i.  719);  sorti  abl. 
(i.  813);  audireque  (ii.  479). 

4  E.g.  the  plague  so  depopulated  Athens  that  (ii.  891)  de  tanto  quondam 
pepulo  vix  contigit  herea/  At  the  battle  of  Actinia  (ii  916);  fo  fonis 
quoesituf,  rcdor  Qlymgii 


CHAPTER  T. 

Pr.OSB-WRITERS  OF  THE  AUGUSTAN  PERIO*. 

Public  oratory,  which  had  held  the  first  rank  among  studiet 
tinder  the  Republic,  was  now,  as  we  have  said,  almost  extinct.  In 
the  earlier  part  of  Augustus's  reign,  Pollio  and  Messala  for  a  time 
preserved  some  of  the  traditions  of  freedom,  but  both  found  it 
impossible  to  maintain  their  position.  Messala  retired  into 
dignified  seclusion;  Pollio  devoted  himself  to  other  kinds  of 
composition.  Somewhat  later  we  find  Messalinus,  the  son  of 
Messala,  noted  for  his  eloquent  pleading;  but  as  he  inherited 
none  of  the  moral  qualities  which  had  made  his  father  dangerous, 
Augustus  permitted  him  to  exercise  his  talent.  He  was  an  in- 
timate friend  of  Ovid,  from  whom  we  learn  details  of  his  life ; 
but  he  frittered  away  his  powers  on  trifling  jests 1  and  extempore 
versifying.  The  only  other  name  worthy  of  mention  is  Q. 
Haterius,  who  from  an  orator  became  a  noted  declaimer.  The 
testimonies  to  his  excellence  vary ;  Seneca,  who  had  often  heard 
him,  speaks  of  the  wonderful  volubility,  more  Greek  than  Eoman, 
which  in  him  amounted  to  a  fault.  Tacitus  gives  him  higher 
praise,  but  admits  that  his  writings  do  not  answer  to  his  living 
fame,  a  persuasive  manner  and  sonorous  voice  having  been  indis- 
pensible  ingredients  in  his  oratory.2  The  activity  before  given  to 
the  state  was  now  transferred  to  the  basilica.  But  as  the  full  sway 
of  rhetoric  was  not  established  until  quite  the  close  of  Augustus's 
reign,  we  shall  reserve  our  account  of  it  for  the  next  book,  merely 
noticing  the  chief  rhetoricians  who  flourished  at  this  time.  The 
most  eminent  were  Porcius  Latro,  Fuscus  Arellius,  and 
Albucius  Silus,  who  are  frequently  quoted  by  Seneca;  Rutilius 
Lupus,3  who  was  somewhat  younger ;  and  Seneca,  the  father  of 

1  He  was  an  adept  in  the  res  culinaria.  Tac.  An.  vi.  7,  bitterly  notes  his 
degeneracy. 

■ Haterii  canorum  illud  et  profluens  cum  ipse  simnl  extinctum  est, 
Ann.  iv.  61. 

*  The  author  of  two  books  on  figures  of  speech,  an  abridged  translator  n  of 
the  work  of  Gorgias,  a  contemporary  Greek  rhetorician. 


320  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tlie  celebrated  philosopher.1  Fuscus  was  an  Asiatic,  and  seems  to 
have  been  one  of  the  first  who  declaimed  in  Latin.  Foreign  pro- 
fessors had  previously  exercised  their  own  and  their  pupils' 
ingenuity  in  Greek ;  Cicero  had  almost  invariably  declaimed  in 
that  language,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  was  a  much 
less  harmful  practice;  but  now  the  bombast  and  glitter  of  the 
Asiatic  style  flaunted  itself  in  the  Latin  tongue,  and  found  in  the 
increasing  number  of  provincials  from  Gaul  and  Spain  a  body  of 
admirers  who  cultivated  it  with  enthusiasm.  Cestius  Pius,  a 
native  of  Smyrna,  espoused  the  same  florid  style,  and  was  even 
preferred  by  his  audience  to  such  men  as  Pollio  and  Messala.  To 
us  the  extracts  from  these  authors,  preserved  in  Seneca,  present  the 
most  wearisome  monotony,  but  contemporary  criticism  found  in 
them  many  grades  of  excellence.  The  most  celebrated  of  all  waa 
Porcius  Latro,  who,  like  Seneca  himself,  came  from  Spain. 
There  is  a  special  character  about  the  Spanish  literary  genius 
which  will  be  more  prominent  in  the  next  generation.  At  pre- 
sent it  had  not  sufficiently  amalgamated  with  the  old  Latin  cul- 
ture to  shine  in  the  higher  branches.  But  in  the  rhetorical 
schools  it  gradually  leavened  taste  by  its  attractive  qualities,  and 
men  like  Latro  must  be  regarded  as  wielding  immense  influence 
on  Eoman  style,  though  somewhat  in  the  background,  much  as 
Antipho  influenced  the  oratory  of  Athens. 

Annaeus  Seneca  of  Corduba  (Cordova),2  the  father  of  Novatus, 
Seneca,  and  Mela  the  father  of  Lucan,  belonged  to  the  equestrian 
order,  was  born  probably  about  54  B.C.  and  lived  on  until  after 
the  death  of  Tibsrius.3  The  greater  part  of  this  long  life,  longer 
even  than  Varro's,  was  spent  in  the  profession  of  eloquence,  for 
which  in  youth  he  prepared  himself  by  studying  the  manner  of 
the  most  renowned  masters.  Cicero  alone  he  was  not  fortunate 
enough  to  hear,  the  civil  wars  having  necessitated  his  withdrawal 
to  Spain.4  He  does  not  appear  to  have  visited  Rome  more  than 
twice,  but  he  shows  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  rhetoricians  of 
the  capital,  whence  we  conclude  that  his  residence  extended  over 
some  time.5  The  stern  discipline  of  Caesar's  wars  had  taught  the 
Spaniards  something  of  Roman  severity,  and  Seneca  seems  to 
have  adopted  with  a  good  will  the  maxims  of  Roman  life.6  He 
possessed  that  elan  with  which  young  races  often  carry  all  before 

1  Seneca  and  Quintilian  quote  numerous  other  names,  as  Passienus,  Pom- 
peius,  Silo,  Papirius  Flavianus,  Alfius  Flavus,  &c.  The  reader  should  con- 
sult Teufl'el,  where  all  that  is  known  of  these  worthies  is  given. 

2  The  praenomen  M.  is  often  given  to  him,  but  without  authoritr. 

•  Probably  until  38  a.d.         *  Contr.  I.  praef.  ii.         *  See  Teuflel,  §  264 

•  His  son  speaks  of  his  home  as  antiqua  et  severa. 


ANNAEUS  SENECA.  321 

them  when  they  give  the  fresh  vigour  of  their  understanding  to 
master  an  existing  system ;  his  memory,  as  he  himself  tells  us, 
was  so  prodigious  that  he  could  recite  2000  names  correctly  after 
once  hearing  them;1  and,  with  the  taste  for  showy  ornament 
which  his  race  has  always  evinced,  he  must  have  launched  himself 
without  misgiving  into  the  competition  of  the  schools.  Neverthe- 
less, in  his  old  age,  when  he  came  to  look  back  on  his  life,  he 
felt  half  ashamed  of  its  results.  His  sons  had  asked  him  to  write 
a  critical  account  of  the  greatest  rhetoricians  he  had  known ;  he 
gladly  acceded  to  their  wish,  and  has  embodied  in  his  work  vast 
numbers  of  extracts,  drawn  either  from  memory  or  rough  notes, 
specifying  the  manner  in  which  each  professor  treated  his  theme ; 
he  then  adds  his  own  judgment  on  their  merits,  often  interspers- 
ing the  more  tedious  discussions  with  bon-mots  or  literary  anec- 
dotes. The  most  readable  portions  are  the  prefaces,  where  he 
writes  in  his  own  person  in  the  unaffected  epistolary  style.  "We 
learn  from  them  many  particulars  about  the  lives  of  the  great 
rhetor es  and  the  state  of  taste  and  literary  education.  But  in  the 
preface  to  the  tenth  book  (the  last  of  the  series)  he  expresses  an 
utter  weariness  of  a  subject  which  not  even  the  reminiscences  of 
happier  days  could  invest  with  serious  interest.  There  are  no 
indications  that  Seneca  rose  to  the  first  eminence.  His  extra- 
ordinary memory,  diligence,  and  virtuous  habits  gained  him 
respect  from  his  pupils  and  the  intimacy  of  the  great.  But  there 
is  nothing  in  his  writings  to  show  a  man  of  more  than  average 
capacity,  who,  having  been  thrown  all  his  life  in  an  artificial  and 
narrowing  profession,  has  lost  the  power  of  taking  a  vigorous 
interest  in  things,  and  acquired  the  habit  of  looking  at  questions 
from  what  we  might  call  the  examiner 's  point  of  view.  We 
have  remains  of  two  sets  of  compositions  by  him ;  Controversiac, 
or  legal  questions  discussed  by  way  of  practice  for  actual  cases, 
divided  into  ten  books,  of  which  about  half  are  preserved ;  and 
Suasoriae,  or  imaginary  themes,  such  as  those  ridiculed  by 
Juvenal: 

"  Consilium  dediinus  Sullae,  privatus  ut  altum 
Dormiret." 

These  last  are  printed  first  in  our  editions,  because,  being  abstract 
in  character  and  not  calling  for  any  special  knowledge,  they  were 
better  suited  for  beginners.  The  style  of  the  book  varies.  In 
the  prefaces  it  is  not  inelegant,  and  shows  few  traces  of  the 
decline,  but  in  the  excerpts  from  Latro  and  Fuscus  (which  are 

1  Caesar,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  greatly  struck  with  the  attention 
given  to  the  cultivation  of  the  memory  in  the  Druid ical  colleges  of  Gaul. 

X 


322  HISTORY   OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

perhaps  nearly  in  their  own  words)  we  observe  the  silver  JLatinitj 
already  predominant.  Much  is  written  in  a  very  compressed 
manner,  reading  like  notes  of  a  lecture  or  a  table  of  contents. 
There  is,  however,  a  geniality  about  the  old  man  which  renders 
him,  even  when  uninteresting,  not  altogether  unpleasing. 

We  pass  from  rhetoric  to  history,  and  here  we  meet  with  one  of 
the  great  names  of  Roman  letters,  the  most  eloquent  of  all 
historians,  Titus  Livius  Patavinus.  The  exact  date  of  his  birth 
is  disputed,  but  may  be  referred  to  59  or  57  B.c.  at  Patavium 
(Padua),  a  populous  and  important  town,  no  less  renowned  for  its 
strict  morals  than  for  its  opulence.1  Little  is  known  of  his  life, 
but  he  seems  to  have  been  of  noble  birth ;  his  relative,  C.  Cor- 
nelius, took  the  auspices  at  Pharsalia,  and  the  aristocratic  tinge 
which  pervades  his  work  would  lead  to  the  same  inference. 
Padua  was  a  bustling  place,  where  public-speaking  was  rife, 
and  aptitude  for  affairs  common;  thus  Livy  was  nursed  in 
eloquence  and  in  scenes  of  human  activity.  Nothing  tended 
to  turn  his  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  nature — at  least  we  see 
no  signs  of  it  in  his  work, — his  conceptions  of  national  develop- 
ment were  uncomplicated  by  reference  to  the  share  that  physical 
conditions  have  in  moulding  it;  man  alone,  and  man  as  in  all 
respects  self-determining,  has  interest  for  him.  His  gifts  are  pre- 
eminently those  of  an  orator ;  the  talent  for  developing  an  idea, 
for  explaining  events  as  an  orderly  sequence,  for  establishing 
conclusions,  for  moving  the  feelings,  for  throwing  himself  into  a 
cause,  for  clothing  his  arguments  in  noble  language,  shine  con- 
spicuous in  his  work,  while  he  has  the  good  faith,  sincerity,  and 
patriotism  which  mark  off  the  orator  from  the  mere  advocate.  For 
some  years  he  remained  at  Padua  studying  philosophy2  and  prac- 
tising as  a  teacher  of  rhetoric,  declaiming  after  the  maimer  of 
Seneca  and  his  contemporaries.  Reference  is  made  to  these 
declamations  by  Seneca  and  Quintilian,  and  no  doubt  they  were 
worth  preserving  as  a  grade  in  his  intellectual  progress  and  as 
having  helped  to  produce  the  artistic  elaborateness  of  his  speeches. 
In  31  b.c.  or  thereabouts,  he  came  to  Pome,  where  he  speedily 
rose  into  favour.  But  though  a  courtier,  he  was  no  flatterer.  He 
praised  Brutus  and  Cassius,3  he  debated  whether  Caesai  was 
useful  to  the  state,4  his   whole   history  is  a  praise  of  the  old 

1  Many  of  these  facts  are  taken  from  SeelejT's  Livy,  Bk.  I.  Oxford,  1871. 

2  L.  Seneca  (Epp.  xvi.  5,  9)  says:  "  Scrijjsit  enim  ct  dialogos quosnon  magis 
philosophiae  annumercs  qaam  historiae  et  exjprofesso  philosophiam  continentc* 
libros"  These  half  historical,  half  philosophical  dialogues  may  perhaps 
have  resembled  Cicero's  dialogue  De  Rcpublica:  Hertz  supposes  th^m  to 
have  been  of  the  same  character  as  the  KoynrTopiKa  of  Varro  (feeley,  v.  38)t 

"  Tac.  Ann.  iv.  34.  4  Sen.  N.  Q. 


OPPORTUNE  APPEARANCE  OF  LIVY'S  HISTORY.  323 

Republic,  his  preface  states  that  Eonie  can  neither  bear  her  evils, 
nor  the  remedy  that  has  been  apt  lied  to  them  (by  which  it  is  pro- 
bable he  means  the  Empire),  and  we  know  that  Augustus  called  him 
a  Pompeian,  though,  at  the  same  time,  he  cannot  have  been  an  im- 
prudent one,  otherwise  he  could  hardly  have  retained  the  emperor'3 
friendship.  As  regards  the  date  of  his  work,  Professor  Seeley 
decides  that  the  first  decade  was  written  between  27  and  20  b.c, 
the  very  time  during  which  the  Aeneid  was  in  process  of  composi- 
tion. The  later  decades  were  thrown  off  from  time  to  time  until 
his  death  at  Patavium  in  17  a.d.  Indications  exist  to  show  that 
they  were  not  revised  by  him  after  publication,  e.g.,  the  errors 
into  which  he  had  been  led  by  trusting  to  Valerius  Antias  were 
not  erased ;  but  he  was  careful  not  to  rely  on  his  authority  after- 
wards. That  he  enjoyed  a  high  reputation  is  clear  from  the  fact 
recorded  by  Pliny  the  younger,  that  a  man  journeyed  to  Rome 
from  Cadiz  for  the  express  purpose  of  seeing  him,  and,  having  suc- 
ceeded, returned  at  once.1  The  elder  Pliny2  draws  a  picture  of  him 
at  an  advanced  age  studying  with  undiminished  zeal  at  his  great 
work.  The  "  old  man  eloquent "  used  to  say  that  he  had  written 
enough  for  glory,  and  had  now  earned  rest ;  but  his  restless  mind 
fed  on  labour  and  would  not  lie  idle.  "When  completed,  his  book 
at  once  became  the  authoritative  history  of  Rome,  after  which 
nothing  was  left  but  to  abridge  or  comment  upon  it. 

The  state  of  letters  at  Rome,  while  unfavourable  to  strictly 
political  history,  was  ripe  for  the  production  of  a  work  like  Livy's. 
Augustus,  Agrippa,  and  Pollio,  had  founded  public  libraries  in 
which  the  older  works  were  accessible.  The  emperor  took  a 
keen  interest  in  all  studies ;  he  encouraged  not  merely  poets  but 
philologians  and  scientific  writers,  and  he  was  not  indisposed  to 
protect  historical  study,  if  only  it  were  treated  in  the  way  he 
approved.  Rabirius,  Pedo  Albinovanus,  and  Cornelius  Severus 
had  written  poems  on  the  late  wars,  Ovid  and  Propertius  on  the 
legends  embodied  in  the  calendar;  the  rival  jurists  Labeo  and 
Capito  had  wrought  the  Juris  liesponsa  into  a  body  of  legal 
doctrine  ;  Strabo  was  giving  the  world  the  result  of  his  travels  in  a 
universal  geography;  Pompeius  Trogus,  Labienus,  Poilio,  and 
the  Greeks  Dionysius,  Dion,  and  Timagenes,  had  all  treated 
Roman  history ;  Augustus  had  published  a  volume  of  his  own 
Gesta ;  all  things  seem  to  demand  a  comprehensive  dramatic 
account  of  the  growth  of  the  Roman  state,  which  should  trace  the 
process  by  which  the  world  became  Roman,  and  Rome  becami 
united  in  the  hands  of  Caesar. 

•  PHd.  Ej.  ii.  3.  •  Praef.  ad  Nat.  Hist. 


324  HISTORY   OP   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

Hitherto  Koman  history  had  been  imperfectly  treated.  It  ii 
tmfortunate  that  such  crude  conceptions  of  its  nature  prevailed. 
Even  Cicero  says,  opus  hoc  unum  maxime  oratorium.1  It  had 
been  either  a  register  of  events  kept  by  aristocratic  pontiffs 
from  pride  of  race,  or  a  series  of  pictures  for  the  display  of 
eloquence.  Neither  the  flexible  imagination,  nor  the  patient  saga- 
city, nor  the  disinterested  view  of  life  necessary  for  a  great  histo- 
rian, was  to  be  found  among  the  Romans.  There  was  no  true 
criticism.  For  instance,  while  Juvenal  depicts  the  first  inhabi- 
tants of  the  city,  according  to  tradition,  as  rude  marauders,2 
Cicero  commends  their  virtues  and  extols  the  wisdom  of  tho 
early  kings  as  the  Athenian  orators  do  that  of  Solon ;  and  in  his 
Cato  Maior  makes  of  the  harsh  censor  a  refined  country  gentle- 
man and  a  student  of  Plato  1  Varro  had  amassed  a  vast  collec- 
tion of  facts,  a  formidable  array  of  authorities ;  Dionysius  had 
spent  twenty  years  in  studying  the  monuments  of  Eome,  and  yet 
had  so  little  intelligence  of  her  past  that  he  made  Eomulus  a 
philosopher  of  the  Sophistic  type  !  Caesar  and  Sallust  gave  true 
narratives  of  that  which  they  had  themselves  known,  but  they  did 
little  more.  No  ancient  writer,  unless  perhaps  Thucydides,  has 
grasped  the  truth  that  history  is  an  indivisible  whole,  and  that 
humanity  marches  according  to  fixed  law  towards  a  determinate 
end.  The  world  is  .in  their  eyes  a  stage  on  which  is  played  for 
ever  the  same  drama  of  life  and  death,  whose  fate  moves  in  a 
circle  bounded  by  the  catastrophes  of  cities  mortal  as  their 
inhabitants,  without  man's  becoming  by  progress  of  time  either 
better  or  more  powerful.  In  estimating,  then,  the  value  of  Livy's 
work,  we  must  ask,  How  far  did  he  possess  the  qualifications 
necessary  for  success  %  We  turn  to  his  preface  and  find  there  the 
moralist,  the  patriot,  and  the  stylist ;  and  we  infer  that  his  fullest 
idea  of  history  is  of  a  book  in  which  he  who  runs  can  read  the 
lesson  of  virtue  ;  and,  if  he  be  a  lawgiver,  can  model  his  legislation 
upon  its  high  precedents,  and,  if  he  be  a  citizen,  can  follow  its  salu- 
tary precepts  of  conduct.  An  idea,  which,  however  noble,  is 
certainly  not  exhaustive.  It  may  entitle  its  possessor  to  be  called 
a  lofty  writer,  but  not  a  great  historian.  This  is  his  radical  defect. 
He  treats  history  too  little  as  a  record,  too  little  as  a  science,  too 
much  as  a  series  of  texts  for  edification. 

How  far  is  he  faithful  to  his  authorities'?  In  truth,  he  never 
deserts  them,  never  (or  almost  never)  advances  an  assertion  without 

1  Pe.  Leg.  i.  2.     See  also  Book  II.  ch.  UL  init. 

*  Maioruvi  quisquis  primus  fuit  Me  tuorum  Ant  pastor  fuit  aut  illud  auii 
dicere  nolo,  Sat.  viii.  ult. 


HIS  AUlilOllITIES.  32 1 

tLem.1  His  fidelity  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  when  ha 
follows  Polybius  alone,  he  adds  absolutely  nothing,  he  merely  throws 
life  into  his  predecessor's  dead  periods.  Moreover,  he  writes,  after 
the  method  of  the  old  annalists,  of  events  year  by  year;  he  rarely 
conjectures  their  causes  or  traces  their  connexion,  he  is  willing  to 
efface  himself  in  the  capacity  of  exponent  of  what  is  handed  down. 
"Whole  passages  we  cannot  doubt,  especially  in  the  early  books, 
are  inserted  from  Fabius  and  the  other  ancients,  only  just  enough 
changed  to  make  them  polished  instead  of  rude ;  and  it  is  aston- 
ishing how  slight  the  changes  need  be  when  the  hand  that  makes 
them  is  a  skilful  one.  So  far  as  we  can  judge  he  never  alters  th« 
testimony  of  a  witness,  or  colours  it  by  interested  presentation. 
His  chief  authorities  for  the  early  history  are  Licinius  Macer, 
Claudius  Quadrigarius,  Gn.  Gellius,2  Sempronius  Tuditanus,  Aelius 
Tubero,  Cassius  Hemina,  Calpurnius  Piso,  Valerius  Antias,  Acilius 
Glabrio,3  Porcius  Cato,  Cincius,  and  Pictor.4  These  writers,  or  at 
least  the  most  ancient  of  them,  Cato  and  Pictor,  founded  their 
investigations  on  such  records  as  treaties,  public  documents — e.g. 
the  annals,  censors'  and  pontiffs'  commentaries,  augural  books, 
books  relating  to  civil  procedure  kept  by  the  pontiffs,  &c.;5  laws, 
lists  of  magistrates,6  LibriLintei  kept  in  the  temple  of  Juno  Moneta; 
all  under  the  reservation  noticed  before,  that  the  majority  perished 
in  the  Gallic  conflagration.7  These  Professor  Seeley  classes  as 
pure  sources.  The  rest,  which  he  calls  corrupt,  are  the  funeral 
orations,  inscriptions  in  private  houses  placed  under  the  Ima- 
gines,8 poems  of  various  kinds,  both  gentile  and  popular,  in  all  of 
which  there  was  more  or  less  of  intentional  misrepresentation. 
For  the  history  after  the  first  decade  new  authorities  appear.  The 
chief  are  Polybius,  Silenus  the  Sicilian  a  friend  of  Hannibal, 
Caelius  Antipater,  Sisenna,  Caecilius,  Kutilius,  and  the  Fasti, 
which  are  now  almost  or  quite  continuous;  and  still  further  on  he 
followed  Posidonius,  and  perhaps  for  the  Civil  Wars  Asinius  Pollio, 
Theophanes,  and  others.  There  is  evidence  that  these  were  care- 
fully digested,  but  by  instalments.  For  instance,  he  did  not  read 
Polybius  until  he  came  to  write  the  Punic  wars.     Hence  he  missed 

1  E.g.  III.  26.  "When  Cincinnatus  was  called  to  the  dictatorship,  he  w&i 
either  digging  or  ploughing ;  authorities  differed.  All  agreed  in  this,  that 
he  was  at  some  rustic  work."  Cf.  iv.  12,  and  i.  24,  where  we  have  the  sets 
of  opposing  authorities,  utrumque  traditur,  auctores  utroque  trahunt  being 
appended. 

'  A  contemporary  of  the  Gracchi ;  very  little  is  known  of  him. 

*  Quaestor,  203  B.C.  He  wrote  in  Greek.  A  Latin  version  by  a  Claudius, 
whom  some  identify  with  Quadrigarius,  is  mentioned  by  Plutarch. 

4  For  these  see  back,  Bk.  I.  ch.  9.  6  See  App.  p.  103.  6  Fasti 

'  .See  p.  88.  e  Liv.  viii.  40,  Falsis  imaglnum  titulis. 


326         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

several  antiquarian  notices  (e.g.  the  treaty  with  Carthage)  whici 
would  have  helped  him  in  the  first  decade.  Still  he  uses  the  authors 
he  quotes  with  moderation  and  fidelity.  When  the  Fasti  omit  or 
confuse  the  names  of  the  consuls,  he  tells  us  so ; 1  when  authorities 
differ  as  to  whether  the  victory  lay  with  the  Eomans  or  Samnitos,2 
lie  notes  the  fact.  In  the  early  history  he  is  reticent,  where 
Dionysius  is  minute;  he  is  content  with  the  broad  legendary  out- 
line, where  Dionysius  constructs  a  whole  edifice  of  probable  but 
utterly  uncertified  particulars.  In  the  important  task  of  sifting 
authorities  Livy  follows  the  plan  of  selecting  the  most  ancient, 
and  those  who  from  their  position  had  best  access  to  facts.  In 
complicated  cases  of  divergence  he  trusts  the  majority,3  the  earliest,4 
or  the  most  accredited,6  particularly  Fabius  and  Piso.6  He  does 
not  analyse  for  us  his  method  of  arriving  at  a  conclusion. 
"  Erudition  is  for  him  a  mine  from  which  the  historian  should 
draw  forth  the  pure  gold,  leaving  the  mud  where  he  found  it." 
Many  of  his  conclusions  are  reached  by  a  sort  of  instinct,  which 
by  practice  divines  truth,  or  rather  verisimilitude,  which  is  but 
too  often  its  only  available  substitute. 

So  far  as  enthusiasm  serves  (and  without  it  criticism,  though  it 
may  succeed  in  destroying,  is  helpless  to  construct),  Livy  penetrates 
to  the  spirit  of  ancient  times.  He  says  himself,  in  a  very  cele- 
brated passage  where  he  bewails  the  prevailing  scepticism,7  " Non 
sum  nescius  ab  eadem  neglegentia  qua  nihil  portendere  deos  volgo 
nunc  credunt  neque  nuntiari  admodum  ulla  prodigia  in  publicum 
neque  in  annales  referri.  Ceterum  et  Tnihi  vetustas  res  scribenti 
nescio  quo  pacto  antiquus  fit  animus  et  quaedam  religio  tenet,  quae 
illi  prudentissimi  viri  pubHce  suscipienda  curarint,  ea  pro  indignis 
habere  quae  in  meos  annales  referam."  This  "  antiquity  of  soul  " 
is  not  criticism,  but  it  is  an  important  factor  in  it.  In  the  history 
of  the  kings  he  is  a  poet.  If  we  read  the  majestic  sentence  in 
which  the  end  of  Eomulus  is  described,8  we  must  admit  that  if  the 
event  is  told  at  all  this  is  the  way  in  which  it  should  be  told- 
We  meet,  however,  here  and  there,  with  genuine  insertions  from, 
antiquity  which  spoil  the  beauty  of  the  picture.  Take,  e.g.,  the  law 
of  treason,9  terrible  in  its  stern  accents,  "  Duumviri  perduellionem 
iudicent:  si  a  duumviris  provocarit,  provocatione  certato :  si  vincent, 
caput  obnubito  :  infelici  arbori  reste  suspendito  :  verberato  vel  intra 
pomoerium  vel  extra  pomoerium,"  where,  as  the  historian  remarks, 
the  law  scarcely  hints  at  the  possibility  of  an  acquittal.  In  the 
struggles  of  the  young  Eepubhc  one  traces  the  risings  01  political 

1  viii.  18,  1.  »  ix.  44,  6.  »  i.  7.  *  ii.  40,  10. 

»  xxx.  45.  •  i.  46  ;  x.  ».  *  xliii.  13.       •  L  16. 

•  L26 


flIS  IGNORANCE  OF  THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION.      327 

passion,  not  of  individuals  as  yet,  but  of  parties  in  the  state. 
After  the  Punic  wars  have  begun  individual  features  predominate, 
and  what  has  been  a  rich  canvass  becomes  a  speaking  portrait. 
Constitutional  questions,  in  which  Livy  is  singularly  ill  informed, 
are  hinted  at,1  but  generally  in  so  cursory  and  unintelligent  a  way, 
that  it  needs  a  Mebuhr  to  elicit  their  meaning.  And  Livy  is 
throughout  led  into  fallacious  views  by  his  confusion  of  the 
mob  (faex  Romuli,  as  Cicero  calls  it)  which  represented  the 
sovereign  people  in  his  day,  with  the  sturdy  and  virtuous  plebs, 
whose  obstinate  insistance  on  their  right  forms  the  leading  thread 
of  Eoman  constitutional  development.  Conformably  with  hia 
promise  at  the  outset  he  traces  with  much  more  effect  the  gradu- 
ally increasing  moral  decadence.  It  is  when  Eome  comes  into 
contact  with  Asia  that  her  virtue,  already  tried,  collapses  almost 
without  a  struggle.  The  army,  once  so  steady  in  its  discipline, 
riots  in  revelry,  and  marches  against  Antiochus  with  as  much 
recklessness  as  if  it  were  going  to  butcher  a  flock  of  sheep.2  The 
soldiers  even  disobey  orders  in  pillaging  Phocaea;  they  become 
cowards,  e.g.,  the  Ulyrian  garrison  surrenders  to  Perseus;  and 
before  long  the  abominable  and  detested  oriental  orgies  gain  a 
permanent  footing  in  Eome.  Meanwhile,  the  senate  falls  from  its 
old  standard,  it  ceases  to  keep  faith,  its  generals  boast  of  perfidy,3 
and  the  corrupted  fathers  have  not  the  face  to  check  them.4  The 
epic  of  decadence  proceeds  to  its  denouement,  and  if  we  possessed 
the  lost  books  the  decline  would  be  much  more  evident.  It  must 
be  admitted  that  in  this  department  of  his  subject  Livy  paints 
with  a  master's  hand.  But  nothing  can  atone  for  his  signal 
deficiency  in  antiquarian  and  constitutional  knowledge.  He  had 
(it  has  been  said)  a  taste  for  truth,  but  not  a  passion  for  it.  Had 
he  gone  into  the  Aedes  Nympharum,  he  might  have  read  on  brass 
the  so-called  royal  and  tribunician  laws;  he  might  have  read  the 
treaties  with  the  Sabines,  with  Gabii  and  Carthage;  the  Senatua 
Consulta  and  the  Plebi  Scita.  Augustus  found  in  the  ruined 
temple  of  Jupiter  Fucinus  5  the  spolia  opima  of  Cossus,  who  was 
there  declared  to  have  been  consul  when  he  won  them.  All  the 
authorities  represented  him  as  military  tribune.  Livy,  it  seems, 
never  took  the  trouble  to  examine  it  When  he  professes  to  cite 
an  ancient  document,  it  is  not  the  document  itself  he  cites  but  ita 
copy  in  Fabius.     He  seems  to  think  the  style  of  history  too  ornate 

1  E.g.,  the  consuls  being  both  plebeian,  the  auspices  are  unfavourable 
(xxiii.  31).  Again,  the  senate  is  described  as  degrading  those  who  feared  to 
return  to  Hannibal  (xxiv.  18).  Varro,  a  novusJwmo, is  chosen  consul  (xxii.  841 

*  xxxvii.  HO.  8  xlii.  74. 

4  Cf.  xlii  21 ;  xliii.  10  ;  xlv.  34.  •  iv.  20,  5. 


328         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

to  admit  such  rugged  interpositions,1  and  when  he  inserts  them  ha 
offers  a  half  apology  for  his  "boldness.  This  dilettante  way  of 
regarding  his  sources  deserves  all  the  censure  Niebuhr  has  cast  on 
it.  If  it  were  not  for  the  fidelity  with  which  he  has  incorporated 
without  altering  his  better-informed  predecessors,  the  investiga- 
tions of  Niebuhr  and  his  successors  would  have  been  hopelessly 
unverifiable.  The  student  who  wishes  to  learn  the  value  of  Livy 
for  the  history  of  the  constitution  should  read  the  celebrated 
Lectures  (VII.  and  VIII.)  of  Niebuhr's  history.  Their  publication 
dethroned  him,  nor  has  he  yet  been  reinstated.  But  it  must  be 
remembered  .hat  this  censure  does  not  attach  to  him  in  other 
aspects,  for  instanc-e  -.8  *  chronicler  of  Rome's  wars,  or  a  biographer 
of  her  worthies.  As  a  geographer,  however,  he  is  untrustworthy ; 
his  description  of  Hannibal's  march  is  obscure,  and  many  battles 
are  extremely  involved.  It  is  evident  he  was  a  clear  thinker  only 
on  certain  points;  his  preface,  e.g.,  is  intricate  both  in  matter  and 
manner. 

It  remains  to  consider  him  shortly  as  a  philosophic  and  as  an 
artistic  historian.  On  these  points  some  excellent  remarks  are 
made  by  M.  Taine.2  When  we  read  or  write  a  history  of  Rome  we 
ask,  Why  was  it  that  Rome  conquered  the  Samnites,  the  Carthagi- 
nians, the  Etruscans  1  How  was  it  that  the  plebeians  gained  equal 
rights  with  the  patricians  1  The  answer  to  such  questions  satis- 
fies the  intelligent  man  of  the  world  who  desires  only  a  clear  and 
consistent  view.  But  philosophy  asks  a  yet  further  why  ?  Why 
was  Rome  a  conquering  state]  why  these  never-ceasing  warsl 
why  was  her  cult  of  abstract  deities  a  worship  of  the  letter  which 
never  rose  to  a  spiritual  idea  1  In  the  resolution  of  problems  like 
these  lies  the  true  delight  of  science ;  the  former  is  but  infor- 
mation ;  this  is  knowledge.  Has  Livy  this  knowledge  1  It  does 
not  follow  that  the  philosophic  historian  should  deduce  with 
mathematical  precision ;  he  merely  narrates  the  events  in  their 
proper  order,  or  chooses  from  the  events  those  that  are  representa- 
tive ;  he  groups  facts  under  their  special  laws,  and  these  again 
under  universal  laws,  by  a  skilful  arrangement  or  selection,  or  else 
by  flashes  of  imaginative  insight  Livy  is  no  more  a  philosopher 
than  a  critic ;  he  discovers  laws,  as  he  verifies  facts,  imperfectly. 
The  treatment  of  history  known  to  the  ancients  did  not  admit  of 
separate  discussions  summing  up  the  results  of  previous  narrative ; 

1  viii.  11,  Hacc  etsi  omnis  divini  humanique  memoria  abolcvit  nova  pet «• 
grinaque  omnia  priscis  ac  patriis  praeferendo,  haud  ab  re  duxi  verbis  quoqui 
ivsis  id  tradita  nuncupataque  sunt  referre. 

2  Sur  Tite-Livc.  The  writer  has  been  frequently  indebled  to  this  cltm 
and  striking  essay  for  examples  of  Livy's  historical  qualities. 


HIS  LACK  OF  CLEARNESS  OF  VIEW.  32S 

for  philosophic  views  we  are  as  a  rule  driven  to  consult  the  inserted 
speeches.  Livy's  speeches  often  reveal  considerable  insight  \ 
Manlius's  account  of  the  Gauls  in  Asia,1  and  Camillus's  sarcastic 
description  of  their  behaviour  round  Borne,2  go  to  the  root  of  theii 
national  character  and  lay  bare  its  weakness.  The  Samnites  are 
ciiticised  by  Decius  in  terms  which  show  that  Livy  had  analysed 
the  causes  of  their  fall  before  Borne.3  Hannibal  arraigns  the 
narrow  policy  of  his  country  as  his  true  vanquisher.  These  and 
the  like  are  as  effectual  means  of  inculcating  a  general  truth  as  a 
set  discussion.  To  these  numerous  and  perhaps  more  striking 
passages  bearing  on  the  internal  history  might  be  added.4  But  a 
historian  should  have  his  whole  subject  under  command.  It  is 
not  enough  to  illuminate  it  by  flashes.  The  speeches,  besides 
being  in  the  highest  degree  unnatural  and  unhistoric,  are  far  too 
eloquent,  moving  the  feelings  instead  of  the  judgment.6  "For 
an  annalist,"  to  quote  Mebuhr,  "  a  clear  survey  is  not  necessary ; 
but  in  a  work  like  Livy's,  it  is  of  the  highest  importance,  and  no 
great  author  has  this  deficiency  to  such  an  extent  as  he.  He  neither 
knew  what  he  had  written  nor  what  he  was  going  to  write,  but 
wrote  at  hap-hazard."  To  put  all  facts  on  an  equal  footing  is  to 
be  like  a  child  threading  beads.  To  know  how  to  select  repre- 
sentative facts,  to  arrange  according  to  representative  principles  is 
an  indispensable  requisite,  as  its  absence  is  an  irremediable  defect 
in  a  writer  who  aspires  to  instruct  the  world. 

To  turn  to  his  artistic  side.  In  this  he  has  been  allowed  to 
stand  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of  excellence.  Whether  he  paints 
the  character  of  a  nation  or  an  individual ;  whether  he  paints  it 
by  pausing  to  reflect  on  its  elements,  as  in  the  beautiful  studies  of 

1  xxxviii.  17.  *  v.  44.  8  vii.  34. 

4  As  the  invective  of  the  old  centurion  who  had  been  scourged  for  debt 
(ii.  23)  ;  Canuleius's  speech  on  marriage  (iv.  3) ;  the  admirable  speech  of 
Ligustinus  showing  how  the  city  drained  her  best  blood  (xlii.  34). 

5  We  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  an  excellent  passage  from  Dr.  Arnold  on 
the  unreality  of  these  cultivated  harangues.  Speaking  of  the  sentiments 
Livy  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the  old  Romans,  he  says  "Doubtless  the  char- 
acter of  the  nobility  and  commons  of  Rome  underwent  as  great  changes  in 
the  course  of  years  as  those  which  have  taken  place  in  our  own  country. 
The  Saxon  thanes  and  franklins,  the  barons  and  knights*  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  the  cavaliers  and  puritans  of  the  seventeenth,  the  country  gentle- 
men and  monisd  men  of  a  still  later  period,  all  these  have  their  own  char- 
acteristic features,  which  ho  who  would  really  write  a  history  of  England 
must  labour  to  distinguish  and  to  represent  with  spirit  and  fidelity  ;  nor 
would  it  be  more  ridiculous  to  paint  the  members  of  a  Wittenagemot  in  the 
costume  of  our  present  House  of  Commons  than  to  ascribe  to  them  out 
habits  of  thinking,  or  the  views,  sentiments,  and  language  of  a  modern 
historian." 


660  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

Cato  and  Cicero,1  or  by  describing  it  in  action,  whiclL  is  the  poeti 
cul  and  dramatic  mode,  or  by  making  it  express  itself  in  speech, 
which  is  the  method  the  orator  favouis  most,  he  is  always  great, 
He  was  a  Venetian,  and  Niebuhr  finds  in  him  the  rich  colouring 
of  the  Venetian  school ;  he  has  also  the  darker  shadow  which  that 
colouring  necessitates,  and  the  bold  delineation  of  form  which 
renders  it  not  meretricious  but  noble.  When  he  makes  the  old 
senators  speak,  we  recognise  men  with  the  souls  of  kings.  Man- 
lius  regards  the  claim  of  the  Latins  for  equal  rights  as  an  outrage 
and  a  sacrilege  against  Capitoline  Jupiter,  with  a  truly  Roman 
arrogance  which  would  be  grotesque  were  it  not  so  grand.2  The 
familiar  conception  we  form  in  childhood  of  the  great  Roman 
worthies,  where  it  does  not  come  from  Plutarch,  is  generally  drawn 
from  Livy. 

The  power  of  his  style  is  seen  sometimes  in  stately  movement, 
sometimes  in  lightning-like  flashes.  "When  Hannibal  at  the  foot 
of  the  Alps  sees  his  men  dispirited,  he  cries  out,  "  You  arc  scaling 
the  walls  of  Rome  I "  When  the  patricians  shrink  in  fear  from 
the  dreaded  tribunate,  the  consuls  declare  that  their  emblems  of 
office  are  a  funeral  pageant?  All  readers  will  remember  pithy 
sentences  like  these  :  "Hannibal  has  grown  old  in  Campania  ;"* 
"  The  issue  of  war  will  show  who  is  in  the  right."6 

His  rhetorical  training  discovers  itself  in  the  elaborate  exactness 
with  which  he  disposes  of  all  the  points  in  a  speech.  The  most 
artificial  of  all,  perhaps,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  the  most  effective, 
is  the  pleading  of  old  Horatius  for  his  son.6  It  might  have  come 
from  the  hands  of  Porcius  Latro,  or  Arellius  Fuscus.  The  orator 
treats  truth  as  a  means ;  the  historian  should  treat  it  as  an  end. 
Livy  wishes  us  not  so  much  to  know  as  to  admire  his  heroes. 

His  language  was  censured  by  Pollio  as  exhibiting  a  Patavinitas, 
but  what  this  was  we  know  not.  To  us  he  appears  as  by  far  the 
purest  writer  subsequent  to  Cicero.  Of  the  great  orator  he  was  a 
warm  admirer.  He  imitated  his  style,  and  bade  his  son-in-law 
read  only  Cicero  and  Demosthenes,  or  other  writers  in  proportion 
as  they  approached  these  two.  He  models  his  rhythm  on  the 
Ciceronian  period  so  far  as  their  different  objects  permit.  But 
poetical  phrases  have  crept  in,7  marring  its  even  fabric ;  and  other 
indications  of  too  rich  a  colouring  betray  the  near  advent  of  the 
Silver  Age. 

1  The  latter  given  by  Seneca  the  elder,  the  former  xxxix.  40. 

2  viii.  5.  3  ii.  54,  5.  4  xxx.  20. 
8  xxi.  10.                                  •  i.  26,  10. 

7  E.g.  Haec  "hi  dicta  dedit:  ubi  Mars  est  cUrocissimus :  stupens  aninii 
laetapascua,  &c,  (Teuffel). 


PCMPEIUS   TROGUS.  331 

As  the  "book  progresses  the  style  becomes  more  fixed,  until  in 
the  third  decade  it  has  reached  its  highest  point;  in  the  latei 
books,  as  we  know  from  testimony  as  well  as  the  few  specimens 
that  are  extan  fc,  it  had  become  garrulous,  like  that  of  an  old  man. 
His  work  was  to  have  consisted  of  fifteen  decades,  but  as  we  have 
no  epitome  beyond  Book  CXLIL,  it  was  probably  never  finished. 
Perhaps  the  loss  of  the  last  part  is  not  so  serious  as  it  seems.  We 
have  thirty  books  complete  and  the  greater  part  of  five  others ; 
but  no  more,  except  a  fragment  of  the  ninety-first  book,  has  been 
discovered  for  several  centuries,  and  in  all  probability  the  remainder 
is  for  ever  lost.  Livy  was  so  much  abridged  and  epitomized  that  dur- 
ing the  Middle  Ages  he  was  scarcely  read  in  any  other  form.  Com- 
pilers like  Floras,  Orosius,  Eutropius,  &c.  entirely  supplied  his  place. 

A  word  should  perhaps  be  said  about  Pompeius  Trogus,  who 
about  Livy's  time  wrote  a  universal  history  in  forty-four  books. 
It  was  called  Historiae  Philippicae,  and  was  apparently  arranged 
according  to  nations ;  it  began  with  Ninus,  the  Nimrod  of  classical 
legend,  and  was  brought  down  to  about  9  A.D.  We  know  the 
work  from  the  epitomes  of  the  books  and  from  Justin's  abridgment, 
which  is  similar  to  that  of  Floras  on  Livy.  Who  Justin  was,  and 
where  he  lived,  are  not  clearly  ascertained.  He  is  thought  to  have 
been  a  philosopher,  but  if  so,  he  was  anything  but  a  talented 
one ;  most  scholars  place  his  floruit  under  the  Antonines.  He 
seems  to  have  been  a  faithful  abbreviator,  at  least  as  far  as  this, 
that  he  has  added  nothing  of  his  own.  Hence  we  may  form  a 
conception,  however  imperfect,  of  the  value  of  Trogus's  labours. 
Trogus  was  a  scientific  man,  and  seems  to  have  desired  the  fame 
of  a  polymath.  In  natural  science  he  was  a  good  authority,1  but 
though  his  history  must  have  embodied  immensely  extended  re- 
searches, it  never  succeeded  in  becoming  authoritative. 

Among  the  writers  on  applied  science,  one  of  considerable 
eminence  has  descended  to  us,  the  architect  Vitruvius  Pollio. 
He  is  very  rarely  mentioned,  and  has  been  confounded  with 
Vitruvius  Cerdo,  a  freedman  who  belongs  to  a  later  date,  and 
whose  precepts  contradict  in  many  particulars  those  of  the  first 
Vitruvius.  His  birth-place  was  Formiae;  he  served  in  the 
African  War  (46  b.o.)  under  Caesar,  so  fhat  he  was  born  at  least 
as  early  as  64  B.C.2  The  date  of  his  work  is  also  uncertain,  but 
it  can  be  approximately  fixed,  for  in  it  he  mentions  the  emperor's 
sister  as  his  patroness,  and  as  by  her  he  probably  means  Octavia, 
who  died  11  b.c,  the  book  must  have  been  written  before  that 
year.   As,  moreover,  he  speaks  of  one  stone  theatre  only  as  existing 

1  Audor  e  severissimis,  Plin.  xi.  52,  275. 

8  Tha  view  that  he  flourished  under  Titus  is  altogether  unworthy  of  credit 


332         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

in  Rome,  whereas  two  others  were  added  in  13  B.C.,  the  date  U 
further  thrown  back  to  at  least  14  b.c.  As  he  expressly  tella 
U3  it  was  written  in  his  old  age,  and  he  must  have  been  a  young 
man  in  46  B.C.,  when  he  served  his  first  campaign,  the  nearer  we 
bring  its  composition  to  the  latest  possible  date  (i.e.  14)  the  more 
correct  we  shall  probably  be.  He  was  of  good  birth  and  had  had 
a  liberal  education ;  but  it  is  clear  from  the  style  of  his  work  that 
he  had  either  forgotten  how  to  write  elegantly,  or  had  advanced  hia 
literary  studies  only  so  far  as  was  necessary  for  a  professional  mam1 
His  language  is  certainly  far  from  good. 

He  began  life  as  a  military  engineer,  but  soon  found  that  hia 
personal  defects  prevented  him  from  succeeding  in  his  career.3 
He  therefore  seems  to  have  solaced  himself  by  setting  forward  in 
a  systematic  form  the  principles  of  his  art,  and  by  finding  fault 
with  the  great  body  of  his  professional  brethren.3     The  dedication 
to  Augustus  implies  that  he  had  a  practical  object,  viz.  to  furnish 
him  with  sound  rules  to  be  applied  in  building  future  edifices  and, 
if  necessary,  for  correcting  those  already  built.     He  is  a  patient 
student  of  Greek  authors,  and  adopts  Greek  principles  unreservedly ; 
in  fact  his  work  is  little  more  than  a  compendium  of  Greek  author- 
ities.4    His  style  is  affectedly  terse,  and  so  much  so  as  to  be  fre- 
quently obscure.     The  contents  of  his  book  are  very  briefly  as 
follows : — 
Book      L  General  description  of  the  science — education  of  the 
architect — best  choice  of  site  for  a  city — disposi- 
tion of  its  plan,  fortifications,  public  buildings,  &c. 
n         EL  On  the  proper  materials  to  be  used  in  building,  pre- 
ceded, like  several  of  Pliny's  books,  by  a  quasi  - 
philosophical  digression  on  the  origin   and  early 
history  of   man — the   progress   of   art — Vitruvius 
gives  his  views  on  the  nature  of  matter 
„    IIL  IV.  On  temples — an  account  of  the  four  orders,  Doric, 

Ionic,  Corinthian,  and  Composite. 
„         V.  On  other  public  buildings. 

VI.  On  the  arrangement  and  plan  of  private  houses. 
VII.  On  the  internal  decoration  of  houses. 
VIIL  On  water  supply — the  different  properties  of  differenl 
waters — the  way  to  find  them,  test  them,  and  con- 
vey them  into  the  city. 
„        IX.  On  sun  dials  and  other  modes  of  measuring  time, 
w         X.  On  machines  of  all  kinds,  civil  and  military. 

1  See  pief.  to  Book  VI.  *  II.  pref  6 

•  Many  of  these  facts  are  borrowed  from  the  Did.  Biog.  &  «. 

*  Prefc  to  Book  VII. 


w 


>» 


FENESTELLA.  333 

As  will  be  seen  from  this  analysis,  the  work  is  both  comprehen- 
sive and  systematic;  it  was  of  great  service  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
when  it  was  used  in  an  abridged  form  (sufficiently  ancient,  how- 
ever,) which  we  still  possess. 

Antiquarian  research  was  carried  on  during  this  period  with 
much  zeal.  Many  illustrious  scholars  are  mentioned,  none  of 
whose  works  have  come  down  to  us,  except  in  extremely  imper- 
fect abridgments.  Fenestella  (52  b.c-22  a.d.)  wrote  on  various 
legal  and  religious  questions,  on  miscellaneous  topics,  as  literary 
history,  the  art  of  good  living,  various  points  in  natural  history, 
&c.  for  which  he  is  quoted  as  an  authority  by  Pliny.  His 
greatest  work  seems  to  have  been  Annates,  which  were  used  by 
Plutarch.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  in  these  he  showed  his  special 
aptitude  for  archaeological  research,  and  passed  over  the  history 
in  a  rapid  sketch.  Special  grammatical  studies  were  carried  on 
by  Verrius  Flaccus,  a  freedman,  whose  great  work,  De  Verborum 
Signijicatu,  the  first  Latin  lexicon  conducted  on  an  extensive 
scale,  we  possess  in  an  abridgment  by  Festus.  Its  size  may  be 
conjectured  from  the  fact  that  the  letter  A  occupied  four  books, 
P  five,  and  so  on ;  and  that  Festus's  abridgment  consisted  of  twenty 
large  volumes.1  It  was  a  rich  storehouse  of  knowledge,  the  loss  of 
which  is  much  to  be  lamented.  Another  freedman,  C.  Juliu9 
Hyginus  (64  B.a-16  A.D.?),  who  was  also  keeper  of  Augustus's 
library  on  the  Palatine,  manifested  an  activity  scarcely  less 
encyclopaedic  than  that  of  Varro.  Of  his  multifarious  works  we 
possess  two  short  treatises  which  pass  under  his  name,  the  first  on 
mythology,  called  Fabulae,  a  series  of  extracts  from  his  Genea- 
logiae,  which  we  have  in  an  abridgment;  the  second  on  astro- 
nomy, extending,  though  this  is  also  in  an  abridged  form,  to  four 
books.  A  few  details  of  his  life  are  given  by  Suetonius.  He 
was  a  Spaniard  by  birth,  though  some  believed  him  to  be  an 
Alexandrian,  since  Caesar  brought  him  to  Home  after  the  Alex- 
andrine War ;  he  attended  at  Rome  the  lectures  of  the  grammarian 
Cornelias  Alexander,  surnamed  Polyhistor.  He  was  an  intimate 
acquaintance  of  Ovid,2  and  is  said  to  have  died  in  great  poverty. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  the  works  we  possess  were  written  by  him 
in  his  youth,  or  are  the  production  of  an  imperfectly  educated 
abbreviator.  Bursian,  quoted  by  Teuffel,3  thinks  it  probable  that 
in  the  second  half  of  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era,  a 
grammarian  made  a  very  brief  abridgment  of  Hyginus's  work 
entitled  Genealogiae,  and  to  this  added  a  treatise  on  the  whole 

1  Epist.  ad  Car.  Magn.  Praef.  ad  Paul.  Diac. 
*  Tr.  iii.  1 4,  is  perhaps  addressed  to  him. 
1  §  257.  7. 


334         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

mythology  so  far  as  it  concerned  poetical  literature,  compiled  from 
good  sources.  This  mythology,  which  retained  the  name  of 
Hyginus  and  the  title  of  Genealogiaey  came  to  be  generally  used 
in  the  schools  of  the  grammarians. 

The  demand  for  school-books  was  now  rapidly  increasing ;  and 
as  the  great  classical  authors  published  their  works,  an  abundant 
supply  of  material  was  given  to  the  ingenious  and  learned.  The 
grammaticae  tribus,  whom  Horace  mentions  with  such  disdain,1 
were  already  asserting  their  right  to  dispense  literary  fame.  They 
were  not  as  yet  so  compact  or  popular  a  body  as  the  rhetoricians, 
but  they  had  begun  to  cramp,  as  the  others  had  begun  to  corrupt, 
literature.  Dependence  on  the  opinion  of  a  clique  is  the  most 
hurtful  state  possible,  even  though  the  clique  be  learned;  and 
Horace  showed  wisdom  as  well  as  spirit  in  resisting  it.  The 
endeavour  to  please  the  leading  men  of  the  world,  which  Horace 
professed  to  be  his  object,  is  far  less  narrowing;  such  men,  though 
unable  to  appraise  scientific  merit,  are  the  best  judges  of  general 
literature. 

The  careful  methods  of  exact  inquiry,  were,  as  we  have  said, 
directed  also  to  law,  in  which  Labeo  remained  the  highest  autho- 
rity. Capito  abated  principle  in  favour  of  the  imperial  preroga- 
tive. They  did  not,  however,  affect  philosophy,  which  retained  its 
original  colouring  as  an  ars  vivendi.  Many  of  Horace's  friends, 
as  we  learn  from  the  Odes,  gave  their  minds  to  speculative  inquiry, 
but,  like  the  poet  himself,  they  seem  to  have  soon  deserted  it. 
At  least  we  hear  of  no  original  investigations.  Neither  a  meta- 
physic  nor  a  psychology  arose ;  only  a  loose  rhetorical  treatment 
of  physical  questions,  and  a  careful  collection  of  ethical  maxims 
for  the  most  part  eclectically  obtained. 

Sextius  Pythagoreus — there  were  two  born  of  this  name, 
father  and  son — wrote  in  Greek,  reproducing  the  oracular  style 
of  Heraclitus.  The  yvw/xat,  which  were  translated  and  chris- 
tianised by  Pufinus,  were  stamped  with  a  strongly  thefstic 
character.  A  few  inferior  thinkers  are  mentioned  by  Quin- 
tilian  and  Seneca,  as  Papirius  Fabianus,  Sergius  Flavius, 
and  Plotius  Crispinus.  Of  these,  Papirius  treated  some  of  the 
classificatory  sciences,  which  now  first  began  to  attract  interest 
in  Pome.  Botany  and  zoology  were  the  favourites.  Minera- 
logy excited  more  interest  on  its  commercial  side  with  regard 
to  the  value  and  history  of  jewels;  it  was  also  treated  in  a 
mystic  or  imaginative  way. 

From  this  rapid  summary  it  will  be  seen  that  real  learning 

1  Ep.  i.  19,  40. 


SPECIMEN  OF  A 


aL  DECLAMATION. 


335 


still  flourished  in  Rome.  Despotism  had  not  crushed  intellectual 
eneigy,  nor  enforced  silence  on  all  but  flatterers.  The  emperot 
had  nevertheless  grown  suspicious  in  his  old  age,  and  given  indica- 
tions of  that  tyranny  which  was  scon  to  be  the  rule  of  govern- 
ment; he  had  interdicted  Timagenes  from  his  palace,  banished 
Ovid,  burnt  the  works  of  Labienus,  exiled  Severus,  and  shown  such 
severity  towards  Albucius  Silo  that  he  anticipated  further  disgrace 
by  a  voluntary  death.  His  reign  closed  in  14  a.  d.,  and  with  it 
ceases  for  near  a  century  the  appearance  of  the  highest  genius  in 
Borne, 


APPENDIX. 

K OTE  I.— A  fragment  translated  from  Seneca's  Suasoriaef  showing  the  style 

of  expression  cultivated  in  the  schools. 


The  subject  (Suas.  2)  debated  is 
whether  the  300  Spartans  at  Ther- 
mopylae, seeing  themselves  deserted 
by  the  army,  shall  remain  or  flee. 
The  different  rhetors  declaim  as  fol- 
lows, making  Leonidas  the  speaker: — 

Arellius  Fuscus. — What!  are  our 
picked  ranks  made  up  of  raw  recruits, 
or  spirits  likely  to  be  cowed,  or  hands 
likely  to  shrink  from  the  unaccus- 
tomed steel,  or  bodies  enfeebled  by 
wounds  or  decay  ?  How  shall  I  speak 
of  us  as  the  flower  of  Greece  ?  Shall 
I  bestow  that  name  on  Spartans  or 
Eleans  ?  or  shall  I  rehearse  the  count- 
less battles  of  our  ancestors,  the  cities 
they  sacked,  the  nations  they  spoiled  ? 
and  do  men  now  dare  to  boast  that 
our  temples  need  no  walls  to  guard 
them  ?  Ashamed  am  I  of  our  con- 
duct ;  ashamed  to  have  entertained 
even  the  idea  of  flight.  But  then, 
you  say,  Xerxes  comes  with  an  in- 
numerable host.  O  Spartans !  and 
Spartans  matched  against  barbarians, 
have  you  no  reverence  for  your  deeds, 
your  grandsires,  your  sires,  from 
whose  example  your  souls  from  in- 
fancy gather  lofty  thoughts  ?  I  scorn 
to  otFer  Spartans  such  exhortations 
as  these.  Look !  we  are  protected 
by  our  position.  Though  he  bring 
with  him  the  whole  East,  and  parade 


his  useless  numbers  before  our  craven 
eyes,  this  sea  which  spreads  its  vast 
expanse  before   us  is  pressed  into  a 
narrow  compass,  is  beset  by  treacher- 
ous straits  which   scarce   admit  the 
passage  of  a  single  row-boat,  and  then 
by  their  chopping  swell  make  rowing 
impossible;    it   is   beset    by  unseen 
shallows,    wedged    between     deeper 
bottoms,  rough  with  sharp  rocks,  and 
everything  that    mocks   the  sailor's 
prayer.     1  am  ashamed  (I  repeat  it) 
that  Spartans,  and  Spartans  armed, 
should  even  stop  to  ask  how  it  is  they 
are  safe.     Shall  I  not  carry  home  the 
spoil  of  the  Persians  ?     Then  at  least 
I   will   fall   naked   upon   it.      They 
shall  know  that  we  have  yet  three 
hundred  men  who  thus  scorn  to  flee, 
who  thus  mean  to   fall.     Think    of 
this:  we  can  perhaps  conquer ;  with 
all  our  effort  we  cannot  be  conquered. 
I  do  not  say  you  are  doomed  to  death 
— you  to  whom  J  address  these  words; 
but  if  you  are,  and  yet   think  that 
death  is  be  feared,  you  greatly  err. 
To  no  living  thing  has  nature  given 
unending  life  ;   on  the  day  of  birth 
the  day  of  death  is  fixed.     For  heaven 
has  wrought  us  out  of  a  weak  ma- 
terial; our  bodies  yield  to  the  slight- 
est   stroke,    we   are    snatched   away 
unwarned  by  fate.      Childhood  am* 


336 


HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE, 


yDuth  lie  beneath  the  same  inexor- 
able law.  Most  of  ns  even  long  for 
death,  so  perfect  a  rest  does  it  offer 
from  the  struggle  of  life.  But  glory 
has  no  limits,  and  they  who  fall  like 
us  rise  nearest  to  the  gods.  Even 
women  often  choose  the  path  of  death 
which  leads  to  glory.  What  need  to 
mention  Lycurgus,  those  heroes 
handed  down  by  history,  whom  no 
peril  could  appal  ?  to  awake  the  spirit 
of  Othryades  alone,  would  be  to  give 
example  enough,  and  more  than 
enough,  for  us  three  hundred  men  I 

Triarius. — Are  not  Spartans  a- 
shamed  to  be  conquered,  not  by  blows 
but  by  rumours  ?  "Pis  a  great  thing 
to  be  born  a  scion  of  valour  and  a 
Spartan.  For  certain  victory  all 
would  wait;  for  certain  death  none 
but  Spartans.  Sparta  is  girt  with  no 
walls,  her  walls  are  where  her  men 
are.  Better  to  call  back  the  army 
than  to  follow  them.  What  if  the 
Persian  bores  through  mountains, 
makes  the  sea  invisible  ?  Such  proud 
felicity  never  yet  stood  sure ;  the 
loftiest  exaltation  is  struck  to  earth 
through  its  forgetfulness  of  the  in- 
stability of  all  things  human.  You 
may  be  sure  that  power  which  has 
given  rise  to  envy  has  not  seen  its 
last  phase.  It  has  changed  seas, 
lands,  nature  itself;  let  us  three 
hundred  die,  if  only  that  it  may  here 
find  something  it  cannot  change.  If 
such  madmen's  counsel  was  to  be 
accepted,  why  did  we  not  flee  with 
the  crowd  ? 

Porcius  Latro. — This  then  is  what 
we  have  waited  for,  to  collect  a  band 
of  runaways.  You  flee  from  a  ru- 
mour ;  let  us  at  least  know  of  what 
sort  it  is.  Our  dishonour  can  hardly 
be  wiped  out  even  by  victory  ;  brave- 
ly as  ws  may  light,  successful  as  we 
may  be,  much  of  our  renown  is  al- 
ready lost ;  for  Spartans  have  debated 
whether  or  not  to  flee.  O  that  we 
may  die  !  For  myself,  after  this  dis- 
cussion, the  only  thing  I  fear  is  to  re- 
turn home.  Old  women's  tales  have 
shaken  the  arms  out  of  our  hands. 
Now,  now,   let  us  fight,  among  the 


thirty  thousand  our  valour  might 
have  lain  hid.  The  rest  have  fled. 
If  you  ask  my  opinion,  which  I  uttel 
for  the  honour  of  ourselves  and  Greece, 
I  say  they  have  not  deserted  us,  the* 
have  chosen  us  as  their  champions. 

MaHllus. —  This  was  our  reason  fur 
remaining,  that  we  might  not  be 
hidden  among  the  crowd  of  fugitives. 
The  army  has  a  good  excuse  to  offer 
for  its  conduct:  "We  knew  Ther- 
mopylae would  be  safe  since  we  left 
Spartans  to  guard  it." 

Ccstius  Pius. — You  have  shown, 
Spartans,  how  base  it  were  to  fly  by 
so  long  remaining  still.  All  have 
their  privilege.  The  glory  of  Athens 
is  speech,  of  Thebes  religion,  of  Sparta 
arms.  'Tis  for  this  Eurotas  flows 
round  our  state  that  its  stream  may 
inure  our  boys  to  the  hardships  of 
future  war  ;  'tis  for  this  we  have  our 
peaks  of  Taygetus  inaccessible  but  to 
Spartans  ;  'tis  for  this  we  boast  of  a 
Hercules  who  has  won  heaven  by 
merit ;  'tis  for  this  that  arms  are  our 
only  walls.  0  deep  disgrace  to  onr 
ancestral  valour  I  Spartans  are 
counting  their  numbers,  not  their 
manhood.  Let  us  see  how  long  the 
list  is,  that  Sparta  may  have,  if  not 
brave  soldiers,  at  le;ist  true  mes- 
sengers. Can  it  be  that  we  are  van- 
quished, not  by  war,  but  by  reports? 
that  man,  i'  faith,  has  a  right  to 
despise  everything  at  whose  very 
name  Spartans  are  afraid.  If  we 
may  not  conquer  Xerxes,  let  us  at 
least  be  allowed  to  see  him  ;  I  would 
know  what  it  is  I  flee  from.  As  yet 
I  am  in  no  way  like  an  Athenian, 
either  in  seeking  culture,  or  in  dwel- 
ling behind  a  wall  ;  the  last  Atheniau 
quality  that  I  shall  imitate  will  be 
cowardice. 

Pompeius  Silo.  — Xerxes  leads  many 
with  him,  Thermopylae  can  hold  but 
few.  We  shall  be  the  most  timid  of 
the  brave,  the  slowest  of  cowards. 
No  matter  how  great  nations  tin 
East  has  poured  into  our  hemisphere, 
how  many  peoples  Xerxes  brin.fj*  witt 
him  ;  as  many  as  this  place  wil  hold, 
with  those  is  our  concern. 


APPENDIX. 


337 


Cornelius  Eispanus. — We  have 
come  for  Sparta;  let  us  stay  for 
Greece  ;  let  us  vanquish  the  foe  as  we 
have  already  vanquished  our  friends  ; 
let  this  arrogant  barbarian  learn  that 
nothing  is  so  difficult  as  to  cut  an 
•rmed  Spartan  down.  For  my  part, 
I  am  glad  the  rest  have  gone ;  they 
have  left  Thermopylae  for  us  ;  there 
will  now  be  nothing  to  mingle  or  com- 
pare itself  with  our  valour;  no 
Spartan  will  be  hidden  in  the  crowd ; 
wherever  Xerxes  looks  he  will  see 
none  but  Spartans. 

Blandus. — Shall  I  remind  you  of 
your  mother's  command — **  Either 
with  your  shield  or  on  it?"  and  yet 
to  return  without  arms  is  far  less  base 
than  to  flee  under  arms.  Shall  I 
remind  you  of  the  words  of  the  cap- 
tive ? —  "Kill  me,  I  am  no  slave!" 
To  such  a  man  to  escape  would  not 
have  been  to  avoid  capture.  Describe 
the  Persian  terrors!  We  heard  all  that 
when  we  were  first  sent  out.  Let 
Xerxes  see  the  three  hundred,  and 
learn  at  what  rate  the  war  is  valued, 
what  number  of  men  the  place  is 
calculated  to  hold.  We  will  not 
return  even  as  messengers  except 
ifter  the  fi^ht  is  over.     Who  has  fled 


I  know  not ;  these  men  Sparta  has 
given  me  for  comrades.  I  am  thank- 
ful that  the  host  has  fled  ;  they  had 
made  the  pass  of  Thermopylae  too 
narrow  for  me  to  move  in. 

§  On  the  other  side. 

Cornelius  Hispanus. — I  hold  it  ■ 
great  disgrace  to  our  state  if  Xerxea 
see  no  Greeks  before  he  sees  the 
Spartans.  We  shall  not  even  have 
a  witness  of  our  valour  ;  the  enemy's 
account  of  us  will  be  believed.  You 
have  my  counsel,  it  is  the  same  as 
that  of  all  Greece.  If  any  one  advise 
differently,  he  wishes  you  to  be  not 
brave  men  but  ruined  men. 

Claudius  Marcellus. — They  will 
not  conquer  us  ;  they  will  overwhelm 
us.  We  have  been  true  to  our  re- 
nown, we  have  waited  till  the  last. 
Nature  herself  has  yielded  before  we. 

The  above  Suasoria  is  by  no  means 
one  of  the  most  brilliant ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  a  decidedly  a  tame  one, 
but  it  is  a  good  instance  of  an  ordi- 
nary declamation  of  the  better  sort, 
and  gives  passages  from  most  of  tha 
rhetoricians  to  whom  reference  is 
made  in  the  text. 


Note  II. — A  few  Observations  on  the   Treatment  of  Rhetorical  Questions, 
taken  from  the   Third  Book  of  Quintilian. 


"The  division  of  the  departments  of 
rhetoric,  or  to  use  a  more  correct  term, 
the  classification  of  causes,  is  three- 
fold :  They  are  either  laudatory,  de- 
liberative, or  judicial.     This  is  a  di- 
vision according  to  the  subject  matter, 
not  according  to  the   artistic   treat- 
ment.     Correspondingly,    there    are 
three  requisites  for  pleading   well, 
nature,  art,  and  practice;  and  three 
objects  which  the  orator  must  set  be- 
fore him,  to  teach,  to  move,  and  to 
delight.     Every  question  turns  either 
on  things  or  on  words;  or  as  it  may 
be  expressed   in  other  language,    is 
either  indefinite    or  definite.      The 
indefinite  is  in  the  form  of  a  universal 
proposition  (Oecris)  which  Cicero  calls 
prcpositum,  others  quaestio  universalis 
civ  His,  others  quaestio  philosopho  con- 


veniens, and  Athenaeus  pars  causae. 
This  again  is  divided  under  the  heads 
of  knowledge  and  action  respectively ; 
of  knowledge,  e.g.  Is  the  world  ruled 
by  Providence?  of  action,  e.g.,  Is  politi- 
cal activity  a  ditty?      The  definite 
question    regards     things,    persons, 
times,    circumstances :    it    is   called 
virudeois  in  Greek,  causa  in  Latin. 
It  always  depends  on  an  indefinite 
question,  e.g.,  Ought  Cato  to  marry  \ 
depends  on  the  wider  one,   Is  mar* 
riage  desirable  ?    Hence  it  may  be  a 
suasoria.     And  this  is  true  even  of 
cases  in  whien  no  person  is  specially 
mentioned,  e.g.,  th(  question,  Ought  a 
man  to  hold  office  under  a  tyranny  I 
depends  on  the  wider  one,   Ought  a 
j  man  to  hold  office  at  all?    And  this 
i  question  refers  of  necessity  to  som« 


338 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


special  tyrant,  though  it  may  not 
mention  him  by  name.  This  is  the 
same  division  as  that  into  general  and 
tpccial  questions.  Thus  every  special 
includes  a  general.  It  is  true  that 
generals  often  bear  only  remotely  on 
practice,  and  sometimes  are  altogether 
neutralised  by  peculiar  circumstances, 
e.g.,  the  question,  Is  political  activity 
a  duty?  becomes  inapplicable  to  a 
chronic  invalid.  Still,  all  are  not  of 
this  kind,  e.g.,  Is  virtue  the  end  of 
man  ?  is  equally  applicable  to  every 
human  being,  whatever  his  capacity. 
Cicero  in  his  earlier  treatises  disap- 
proved of  these  questions  being  dis- 
cussed by  the  orator:  he  wished  to 
leave  them  to  the  philosopher ;  but 
as  he  grew  in  experience  he  changed 
his  mind. 

"  A  cause  is  defined  by  Valgius, 
after  A pol lodorus,  as negotium omnibus 
suis  partilus  spectans  ad  quacstioncm, 
or  as  negotium  cuius  finis  est  controvcr- 
sia.  The  negotium  (or  business  in 
hand)  is  thus  defined,  congregatio per- 
sonarum  locorum  temporum  causa- 
rum  modorum  casuum  factorum  in- 
strumentorum  sermonum  scri2)torum 
et  non  scriptorum.  The  cause,  there- 
fore, corresponds  to  the  Greek  vwo- 
araffis  (subject),  the  negotium  to 
ireplffrao-is  (surroundings).  These  are 
of  course  closely  connected;  and  many 
have  defined  the  cause  as  though  it 
were  identical  with  its  surroundings  or 
conditions. 

"In  every  discussion  three  things  are 
the  objects  of  inquiry,  an  sit,  Is  it  so  ? 
quid  sit,  If  so,  what  is  it?  quale  sit, 
of  what  kind  is  it  ?  For  first,  there 
-oust  be  something,  about  which  the 
discussion  has  arisen.  Till  this  is 
made  clear  no  discussion  as  to  what 
it  is  can  arise  ;  far  less  can  we  deter- 
mine what  its  qualities  are,  until  this 
second  point  is  ascertained.  These 
three  objecto  of  inquiry  are  exhaus- 


tive; on  them  every  question,  whether 
definite  or  indefinite,  depends.  The 
accuser  will  try  to  establish,  first,  the 
occurrence  of  the  act  in  dispute,  then 
its  character  ;  and,  lastly,  its  crimin- 
ality. The  advocate  will,  if  possible, 
deny  the  fact;  if  he  cannot  do  that 
he  will  prove  that  it  is  not  what  the 
accuser  states  it  to  be  ;  or,  thirdly, 
he  may  contend — and  this  is  the  most 
honourable  kind  of  defence — that  it 
was  rightly  done.  As  a  fourth  alter- 
native, he  may  take  exception  to  the 
legali  ty  of  the  prosecution.  A 11  these, 
and  every  other  conceivable  division 
of  questions,  come  under  the  two 
general  heads  (status)  of  rational  and 
legal.  The  rational  is  simple  enough, 
depending  only  on  the  contemplation 
of  nature  ;  thus  it  is  content  with  ex- 
,  hibiting  conjecture,  definition,  and 
quality.  The  legal  is  extremely  com- 
plex, laws  being  infinite  in  number 
and  character.  Sometimes  the  letter 
is  to  be  observed,soinetimes  the  spirit. 
Sometimes  we  get  at  its  meaning  by 
comparison,  or  induction  ;  sometimes 
its  meaning  is  open  to  the  most  con- 
tradictory interpretations.  Hence 
there  is  room  for  a  far  greater  display 
of  diverse  kinds  of  excellence  in  the 
legal  than  in  the  rational  department. 
Thus  the  declamatory  exercises  called 
suasoriae,  which  are  confined  to  ra- 
tional considerations,  are  fittest  for 
young  students  whose  reasoning 
powers  are  acute,  but  who  have  not 
the  knowledge  of  law  necessary  for 
enabling  them  to  treat  controversial 
which  hinge  on  legal  questions. 
These  last  are  intended  as  a  prepara- 
tion for  the  pleading  of  actual  causes 
in  cf  ut,  and  should  be  regularly 
practised  even  by  the  most  accom- 
plished pleader  during  tbo  Jpare 
moments  that  bin  profession  allow* 
him." 


BOOK    III. 

THE    DECLINE. 

VBOU  THE  ACCESSION  OF  TIBERIUS  TO  THE  DEATB 
OF  M.  A  URELIUS  (14-180  aj>.) 


BOOK  III. 


CHAPTEE  L 

The  Aob  of  Tiberius  (14-37  A.D.). 

Augustus  was  not  more  unlike  his  gloomy  successor  than  wen 
the  writers  who  nourished  under  him  to  those  that  now  come 
before  us.  The  history  of  literature  presents  no  stronger  contrast 
than  between  the  rich  fertility  of  the  last  epoch  and  the  barrenness  of 
the  present  one.  The  age  of  Tiberius  forms  an  interval  of  silence 
during  which  the  dead  are  buried,  and  the  new  generation  prepares 
itself  to  appear.  Under  Nero  it  will  have  started  forth  in  all  iis 
panoply  of  tinsel  armour;  at  present  the  seeds  that  will  produce  it 
are  being  sown  by  the  hand  of  despotism.1 

The  sudden  collapse  of  letters  on  the  death  of  Augustus  is 
easily  accounted  for.  As  long  as  the  chief  of  the  state  encouraged 
them  labourers  in  every  field  were  numerous.  When  his  face  was 
withdrawn  the  stimulus  to  effort  was  removed.  Thus,  even  in 
Augustus's  time,  when  ill  health  and  disappointment  had  soured 
his  nature  and  disposed  him  to  arbitrary  actions,  literature  had 
felt  the  change.  The  exile  of  Ovid  was  a  blow  to  the  muses.  We 
have  seen  how  it  injured  his  own  genius,  a  decline  over  which  he 
mourns,  knowing  the  cause  but  impotent  to  overcome  it.2  We 
have  seen  also  how  it  was  followed  up  by  other  harsh  measures, 
stifling  the  free  voice  of  poets  and  historians.  And  when  we 
reflect  how  the  despotism  was  entwining  itself  round  the  entire 

1  The  Empire  is  here  regarded  solely  m  its  influence  on  literature  and  tht 
classes  that  monopolised  it.  If  the  poor  or  the  provincials  had  written  iti 
history  it  would  have  been  described  in  very  different  ter^s. 

2  Pont.  iv.  2,  Impetus  ille  sacer,  qui  vatum  pectora  nuirit  Qui  prius  ia 
nobis  esse  solebat  abest.  Vix  venit  ad  partes;  vix  aunitae  Musa  tabellaa 
Imponit  pigras  paene  coacta  manna* 


342  HISTORY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 

life  of  the  nation,  gathering  by  each  new  enactment  food  for 
future  aggression,  and  only  veiled  as  yet  by  the  mildness  or 
caution  of  a  prince  whose  one  object  was  to  found  a  dynasty,  out 
surprise  is  lessened  at  the  spectacle  of  literature  prostrate  and 
dumb,  threatened  by  the  hideous  form  of  tyranny  now  no  longer 
in  disguise,  offering  it  with  brutal  irony  the  choice  between  sub- 
mission, hypocrisy,  and  death.  Tiberius  (whose  portrait  drawn 
by  Tacitus  in  colours  almost  too  dark  for  belief,  is  nevertheless 
rendered  credible  by  the  deathlike  silence  in  which  his  reign  was 
passed)  had  in  his  youth  shown  both  taste  and  proficiency  in 
libera]  studies.  He  had  formed  his  style  on  that  of  Messala,  but 
the  gloomy  bent  of  his  mind  led  him  to  contract  and  obscure  his 
meaning  to  such  a  degree  that,  unlike  most  Romans,  he  spoke 
better  extempore1  than  after  preparation.  In  the  art  of  perplexing 
by  ambiguous  phrases,  of  indicating  intentions  without  committing 
himself  to  them,  he  was  without  a  rival.  In  point  of  language  he 
was  a  purist  like  Augustus;  but  unlike  him  he  mingled  archaisms 
with  his  diction.  While  at  Rhodes  he  attended  the  lectures  of 
Theodoras;  and  the  letters  or  speeches  of  his  referred  to  by  Tacitus 
indicate  a  nervous  and  concentrated  style.  Poetry  was  alien  from 
his  stern  character.  Nevertheless,  Suetonius  tells  us  he  wrote  a 
lyric  poem  and  Greek  imitations  of  Euphorion,  Rhianus,  and 
Parthenius;  but  it  was  the  minute  questions  of  mythology  that 
chiefly  attracted  him,  points  of  useless  erudition  like  those  derided 
by  Juvenal  :2 

"  Nutricem  Anchisae,  nomen  patriamque  novercae 
Anchomoli,  dicat  quot  Acestes  vixerit  annos, 
Quot  Siculus  Phrygibus  vini  donaverit  urnas." 

In  maturer  life  he  busied  himself  with  writing  memoirs,  which 
formed  the  chief,  almost  the  only  study  of  Domitian,  and  of  which 
we  may  regret  that  time  has  deprived  us.  The  portrait  of  this 
arch  dissembler  by  his  own  able  hand  would  be  a  good  set  off  to 
the  terrible  indictment  of  Tacitus.  Besides  the  above  he  was  the 
author  of  funeral  speeches,  and,  according  to  Suidas,  of  a  work  on 
the  art  of  rhetoric 

With  these  literary  pretensions  it  is  clear  that  his  discourage- 
ment of  letters  as  emperor  was  due  to  political  reasons.  He  saw 
in  the  free  expression  of  thought  or  fancy  a  danger  to  his  throne. 
And  as  the  abominable  system  of  delations  made  every  chance 
expression  penal,  and  found  treason  to  the  present  in  all  praise  of 
the  past,  the  only  resource  open  to  men  of  letters  was  to  suppress 
every  expression  of   feeling,  and,  by  silent  brooding,  to  kt^ep 

1  Su«t.  Tib.  70.  *  Sat  vii.  284 


GREAT  DEPRESSION  OF  LITERATURE.  343 

passion  at  white  heat,  so  that  when  it  speaks  at  last  it  speaks 
with  the  concentrated  intensity  of  a  Juvenal  or  a  Tacitus. 

We  might  ask  how  it  was  that  authors  did  not  choose  subjects 
outside  the  sphere  of  danger.  There  were  still  forms  of  art  and 
science  which  had  not  been  worked  out.  The  Natural  History  of 
Pliny  shows  how  much  remained  to  be  done  in  fields  of  great 
interest.  Neither  philosophy  nor  the  lighter  kinds  of  poetry  could 
afford  matter  for  provocation.  But  the  answer  is  easy.  The  Eoman 
imagination  was  so  narrow,  and  their  constructive  talent  so 
restricted,  that  they  felt  no  desire  to  travel  beyond  the  regular 
lines.  It  seemed  as  if  all  had  been  done  that  could  be  done  well. 
History,  national  and  universal,1  science2  and  philosophy,3  Greek 
poetry  in  all  its  varied  forms,  had  been  brought  to  perfection  by 
great  masters  whom  it  was  hopeless  to  rival  The  age  of  literary 
production  seemed  to  have  been  rounded  off,  and  the  self -conscious- 
ness that  could  reflect  on  the  new  era  had  not  yet  had  time  to 
arise.  Rhetoric,  as  applied  to  the  expression  of  political  feeling, 
was  the  only  form  which  literature  cared  to  take,  and  that  was 
precisely  the  form  most  obnoxious  to  the  government. 

Thus  it  is  possible  that  even  had  Tiberius  been  less  jealously 
repressive  letters  would  still  have  stagnated.  The  severe  strain  of 
the  Augustan  age  brought  its  inevitable  reaction.  The  simulta- 
neous appearance  of  so  many  writers  of  the  first  rank  rendered 
necessary  an  interval  during  which  their  works  were  being  digested 
and  their  spirit  settling  down  into  an  integral  constituent  of  the 
national  mind.  By  the  time  thought  reawakens,  Yirgil,  Horace, 
and  Livy,  are  already  household  words,  and  their  works  the  basis 
of  all  literary  culture. 

In  reading  the  lives  of  the  chief  post- Augustan  writers  we  are 
struck  by  the  fact  that  many,  if  not  most  of  them,  held  offices  of 
state.  The  desire  for  peaceful  retirement,  characteristic  of  the 
early  Augustans,  the  contentment  with  lettered  leisure  that  sig- 
nalises the  poetry  of  the  later  Augustans,  have  both  given  place  to 
a  restless  excitement,  and  to  a  determination  to  make  the  most  of 
literature  as  an  aid  to  a  successful  career.  Hitherto  we  have 
obseived  two  distinct  classes  of  writers,  and  a  corresponding  double 
relation  of  politics  and  literature.  The  early  poets,  and  again 
those  of  Augustus's  era,  were  not  men  of  affairs,  they  belonged  to 
the  exclusively  literary  class.  The  great  prose  writers  on  th» 
contrary  rose  to  political  eminence  by  political  conduct.  Litera- 
ture  was  with  them  a  relaxation,  and  served  no  purpose  of  worldly 
aggrandisement     Now,  however,  an  unhealthy  confusion  1  etween 

1  Livy  and  Trogus.  ■  Varro.  B  Cicero. 


344  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  two  provinces  takes  place.  A  man  rises  to  office  through  hit 
poems  or  rhetorical  essays.  The  acquirements  of  a  professoi 
become  a  passport  to  public  life.  Seneca  and  Quintilian  are 
striking  and  favourable  instances  of  the  school  door  opening  into 
the  senate : 

"  Si  fortuna  volet  fies  de  rhetore  consul."1 

But  nearly  all  the  chief  writers  carried  their  declamatory  prin- 
ciples into  the  serious  business  of  life.  This  double  aspect  of 
their  career  produced  two  different  types  of  talent,  under  one  or 
other  of  which  the  great  imperial  writers  may  be  ranged.  Ex- 
cluding men  of  the  second  rank,  we  have  on  the  one  side  Lucan, 
Juvenal,  and  Tacitus,  all  whose  minds  have  a  strong  political  bias, 
the  bias  of  old  Eome,  which  makes  them  the  most  powerful 
though  the  most  prejudiced  exponents  of  their  times.  Of  another 
kind  are  Persius,  Seneca,  and  Pliny  the  elder.  Their  genius  is 
contemplative  and  philosophical ;  and  though  two  of  them  were 
much  mixed  in  affairs,  their  spirit  is  cosmopolitan  rather  than 
national,  and  their  wisdom,  though  drawn  from  varied  sources, 
cannot  be  called  political.  These  six  are  the  representative  minds 
of  the  period  on  which  we  are  now  entering,  and  between  them 
reflect  nearly  all  the  best  and  worst  features  of  their  age.  Quin- 
tilian, Statius,  and  Pliny  the  younger,  represent  a  more  restricted 
development ;  the  first  of  them  is  the  typical  rhetorician,  but  of 
the  better  class ;  the  second  is  the  brilliant  improvisatore  and 
ingenious  word-painter ;  the  third  the  cultivated  and  amiable  but 
vain,  common-place,  and  dwarfed  type  of  genius  which  under  the 
Empire  took  the  place  of  the  "  fine  gentlemen "  of  the  free 
Kepublic. 

Writers  of  this  last  stamp  cannot  be  expected  to  show  any 
independent  spirit.  They  are  such  as  in  every  age  would  adopt 
the  prevaler  t  fashion,  and  theorise  within  the  limits  prescribed  by 
respectability.  While  a  bad  emperor  reigns  they  flatter  him; 
when  a  good  emperor  succeeds  they  flatter  him  still  more  by 
abusing  his  predecessor ;  at  the  same  time  they  are  genial,  sober, 
and  sensible,  adventuring  neither  the  safety  of  their  necks  nor  of 
their  intellectual  reputation. 

Such  an  author  comes  before  us  in  M.  Velleius  Patercuxus, 
the  court  historian  of  Tiberius.  This  well-intentioned  but  loqua- 
cious writer  gained  his  loyalty  from  an  experience  of  eight  years' 
warfare  under  Tiberius  in  various  parts  of  Europe,  and  the  flattery 
of  which  he  is  so  lavish  was  probably  sincere.  His  birth  may 
perhaps  be  referred  to  18  b.c,  since  his  first  campaign,  undei 

1  Juv.  vii.  W. 


VELLEIUS  PATERCULUS.  345 

M.  Yinicius,  to  whose  son  he  dedicated  his  work,  took  place  in 
the  year  1  B.C.  Tiberius's  sterling  qualities  as  a  soldier  gained  him 
the  friendship  of  many  of  his  legati,  and  Yelleius  was  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  that  of  Tiberius  in  return.  By  his  influence  he 
rose  through  the  minor  offices  to  the  praetorship  (14  a.d.),  and 
soon  after  set  himself  to  repair  the  deficiencies  of  a  purely  military 
education  by  systematic  study.  The  fruit  of  this  labour  is  the 
Abridgment  of  Roman  History,  in  two  books,  a  mere  rapid  survey 
of  the  early  period,  becoming  more  diffuse  as  it  nears  his  own 
time,  and  treating  the  life  of  Tiberius  and  the  events  of  which  he 
was  the  centre  with  considerable  fulness.  The  latter  part  is  pre- 
served entire ;  of  the  first  book,  which  closes  with  the  destruction 
of  Carthage,  a  considerable  portion  has  been  lost.  As,  however, 
he  is  not  likely  to  have  followed  in  it  any  authorities  inaccessible 
to  us,  the  loss  is  unimportant.  For  his  work  generally  the 
authorities  he  quotes  are  good — Cato's  Origines,  the  Annates  of 
Hortensius,  and  probably  Atticus's  abridgment ;  Cornelius  Nepos, 
and  Trogus  for  foreign,  Livy  and  Sallust  (of  whom  he  was  a  great 
admirer)  for  national,  history.  As  a  recipient  and  expectant  of 
court  favour,  he  naturally  echoed  the  language  of  the  day.  Brutus 
and  Cassius  are  for  him  parricides  ;  Caesar,  the  divine  founder  of 
an  era  which  culminates  in  the  divine  Tiberius.1  So  full  was  ho 
of  his  master's  praises  that  lie  intended  to  write  a  separate  book 
on  the  sub'  ct,  but  was  prevented  by  his  untimely  death.  This 
took  place  in  31  a.d.,  when  the  discovery  of  Sejanus's  conspiracy 
caused  many  suspected  to  be  put  to  death,  and  it  seems  that 
Yelleius  was  among  the  number. 

His  blind  partisanship  naturally  obscures  his  judgment ;  but, 
making  allowance  for  a  defect  which  he  does  not  attempt  to 
conceal,  the  reader  may  generally  trust  him  for  all  matters  of  fact. 
His  studies  were  not  as  a  rule  deep ;  but  an  exception  must  be 
made  in  the  case  of  his  account  of  the  Greek  colonies  in  Italy,  the 
dates  at  which  they  were  founded,  and  their  early  relations  with 
Rome.  These  had  nevor  been  so  clearly  treated  by  any  writer, 
at  least  among  those  with  whom  we  are  familiar.  His  mind  is 
not  of  a  high  order  ;  he  can  neither  sift  evidence  nor  penetrate  to 
causes ;  his  talents  lie  in  the  biographical  department,  and  he  has 
considerable  insight  into  character.  His  style  is  not  unclassical 
so  far  as  the  vocabulary  goes,  but  the  equable  moderation  of  the 
Golden  Age  is  replaced  by  exaggeration,  and  like  all  who  cultivate 
artificial  brilliancy,  he  cannot  maintain  his  ambitious  level  of 
poetical  and  pretentious  ornament.     The  last  year  referred  to  in 

1  See  ii.  94   which  contains  exaggerated  commendations  on  Tiberius* 


346  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  book  is  30  A.D.  The  dearth  of  other  material  gives  him 
additional  value.  As  a  historian  he  takes  a  low  rank;  as  an 
abridger  he  is  better,  but  best  of  all  as  a  rhetorical  anecdotist  and 
painter  of  character  in  action. 

A  better  known  writer  (especially  during  the  Middle  Ages)  ia 
Valerius  Maximus,  author  cf  the  Facta  et  Dicta  Memorabilia  y  in 
nine  books,  addressed  to  Tiberius  in  a  dedication  of  unexampled 
servility,1  and  compiled  from  few  though  good  sources.  Tho 
object  of  the  work  is  stated  in  the  preface.  It  was  to  save  labour 
for  those  who  desired  to  fortify  their  minds  with  examples  of 
excellence,  or  increase  their  knowledge  of  things  worth  knowing. 
The  methodical  arrangement  by  subjects,  e.g.,  religion,  which  is 
divided  into  religion  observed  and  religion  neglected,  and  instances 
of  both  given,  first  from  Roman,  then  from  foreign,  history,  and  so 
on  with  all  the  other  subjects,  makes  Teuffel's  suggestion  extremely 
probable,  namely,  that  it  was  intended  for  the  use  of  young 
declaimers,  who  were  thus  furnished  with  instances  for  all  sorts 
of  themes. ""  The  constant  tendency  in  the  imperial  literature  to 
exhaust  a  subject  by  a  catalogue  of  every  known  instance  may  be 
traced  to  these  pernicious  rhetorical  handbooks.  If  a  writer 
praises  temperance,  he  supplements  it  by  a  list  ol  temperate 
Koinans ;  if  he  describes  a  storm,  he  puts  doion  all  he  knows  about 
the  winds.  Uncritical  as  Valerius  is,  and  void  of  all  thought,  he 
is  nevertheless  pleasant  enough  reading  for  a  vacant  hour,  and  if 
we  were  not  obliged  to  rate  him  by  a  lofty  standard,  would  pass 
muster  very  welL  But  he  is  no  fit  company  for  men  of  genius ; 
our  only  wonder  is  he  should  have  so  long  survived.  His  work 
was  a  favourite  school-book  for  junior  classes,  and  was  epitomised 
or  abridged  by  Julius  Paris  in  the  fourcn  or  fifth  century.  At 
the  time  of  this  abridgment  the  so-called  tenth  book  must  have 
been  added.  Julius  Paris's  words  in  his  preface  to  it  are,  Liber 
decimus  de  praenominibus  et  similibus:  but  various  considerations 
make  it  certain  that  Valerius  was  not  the  author.2  Many  inter- 
esting details  were  given  in  it,  taken  chiefly  from  Varro;  and  it 
is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  entire  treatise  is  not  preserved. 
Besides  Paris  one  Titius  Probus  retouched  the  work  in  a  still  later 
age,  and  a  third  abstract  by  Januarius  Nepotianus  is  mentioned. 
This  last  writer  cut  out  all  the  padding  which  Valerius  had  so 

1  The  author's  humble  estimate  of  himself  appears,  Si  prisci  oratores  ab 
Jove  Opt.  Max.  bene  orsi  sunt  .  .  .  mea  parvitas  eo  iustius  ad  tuurn  favorem 
decurrerit,  quod  cetera  divinitas  opinione  colligitur,  tua  praesenti  fid« 
paterno  avitoque  sideri  par  videtur  .  .  .  Deos  reliquos  accepinius,  Caesarei 
dedimus. 

■  The  reader  is  referred  to  Teuffel,  Rom.  Lit.  §  274,  11. 


CELSUS.  347 

largely  osed  ("  dum  se  osteniat  sententiis,  locis  iactat,  fiindit  exce» 
sibus  "),  and  reduced  the  work  to  a  bare  skeleton  of  facts. 

A  much  more  important  writer,  one  of  whose  treatises  only  has 
reached  us,  was  A.  Cornelius  Celsus.  He  stood  in  the  first 
rank  of  Roman  scientists,  was  quite  encyclopaedic  in  his  learning, 
and  wrote,  like  Cato,  on  eloquence,  law,  farming,  medicine,  *nd 
tactics.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  work  on  medicine  (extending 
over  Books  VL-XIII.  of  his  Encyclopaedia)  which  we  possess, 
was  the  best  of  his  writings,  but  the  chapters  on  agriculture  also 
are  highly  praised  by  Columella. 

At  this  time,  as  Des  Etangs  remarks,  nearly  all  the  knowledge 
and  practice  of  medicine  was  in  the  hands  of  Greek  physicians, 
and  these  either  freedmen  or  slaves.  Roman  practitioners  seem 
to  have  inspired  less  confidence  even  when  they  were  willing  to 
study.  Habits  of  scientific  observation  are  hereditary;  and  for 
centuries  the  Greeks  had  studied  the  conditions  of  health  and  the 
theory  of  disease,  as  well  as  practised  the  empirical  side  of  the  art, 
and  most  Romans  were  well  content  to  leave  the  whole  in  their 
hands. 

Celsus  tried  to  attract  his  countrymen  to  the  pursuit  of  medicine 
by  pointing  out  its  value  and  dignity.  He  commences  his  work 
with  a  history  of  medical  science  since  its  first  importation  into 
Greece,  and  devotes  the  rest  of  Book  I.  to  a  consideration  of  die- 
tetics and  other  prophylactics  of  disease ;  the  second  book  treats  of 
general  pathology,  the  third  and  fourth  of  special  illnesses,  the  fifth 
gives  remedies  and  prescriptions,  the  sixth,  seventh,  and  eighth — 
the  most  valuable  part  of  the  book — apply  themselves  chiefly  to 
surgical  questions.  The  value  of  his  work  consists  in  the  clear, 
comprehensive  grasp  of  his  subject,  and  the  systematic  way  in  which 
he  expounds  its  principles.  The  main  points  of  his  theory  are 
still  valid ;  very  few  essentials  need  to  be  rejected ;  it  might  still 
be  taken  as  a  popular  handbook  on  the  subject.  He  writes  for 
Roman  citizens,  and  is  therefore  careful  to  avoid  abstruse  terms 
where  plain  ones  will  do,  and  Greek  words  where  Latin  are  to  be 
had.  The  style  is  bare,  but  pure  and  classical.  An  excellent 
critic  says1 — "  Quo  saepius  eum  perlegebam,  eo  magis  me  detinuit 
cum  dicendi  nitor  et  brevitas  turn  perspicacitas  iudicii  sensusque 
vcrax  et  ad  agendum  accommodatus,  quibus  omnibus  genuinam 
repiaesentat  nobis  civis  Romani  imaginem."  The  text  as  we 
have  it  depends  on  a  single  MS.  and  sadly  needs  a  careful 
revision ;  it  is  interpolated  with  numerous  glosses,  both  Greek  and 
Latin,  which  a  skilful  editor  would  detect  and  remove.     Among 

1  Daremberg. 


348  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  other  treatises  in  his  Encyclopaedia,  next  to  that  on  farming, 
those  on  rhetoric  and  tactics  were  most  popular.  The  former,  how- 
ever, was  superseded  by  Quintilian,  the  latter  by  Yegetius.  In 
philosophy  he  did  not  so  much  criticise  other  schools  as  detail  hia 
own  views  with  concise  eloquence.  These  views  were  almost 
certainly  Eclectic,  though  we  know  on  Quintilian's  authority  that 
he  followed  the  two  Sextii  in  many  important  points.1 

The  other  branches  of  prose  composition  were  almost  neglected 
in  this  reign.  Even  rhetoric  sank  to  a  low  level ;  the  splendid 
displays  of  men  like  Latro,  Arellius,  and  Ovid  gave  place  to  the 
flimsy  ostentation  of  Eemmius  Palaemon.  This  dissolute  man, 
who  combined  the  professions  of  grammarian  and  rhetorician, 
possessed  an  extraordinary  aptitude  for  fluent  harangue,  but 
soon  confined  his  attention  to  grammatical  studies,  in  which  he 
rose  to  the  position  of  an  authority.  Suetonius  says  he  was  born 
a  slave,  and  that  while  conducting  his  young  master  to  school  he 
learnt  something  of  literature,  was  liberated,  and  set  up  a  school 
in  Eome,  where  he  rose  to  the  top  of  his  profession.  Although 
infamous  for  his  abandoned  profligacy,  and  stigmatized  by  Tiberius 
and  Claudius  as  utterly  unfit  to  have  charge  of  the  young,  he 
managed  to  secure  a  very  large  number  of  pupils  by  his  persuasive 
manner,  and  the  excellence  of  his  tutorial  method.  His  memory 
was  prodigious,  Ins  eloquence  seductive,  and  a  power  of  extempore 
versification  in  the  most  difficult  metres  enhanced  the  charm  of 
his  conversation.  He  is  referred  to  by  Pliny,  Quintilian,  and 
Juvenal,  and  for  a  time  superintended  the  studies  of  the  young 
satirist  Persius. 

Oratory,  as  may  easily  be  supposed,  had  well  nigh  ceased. 
Votienus  Montanus,  Mamercus  Scaurus,  and  P.  Vitellius,  all 
held  high  positions  in  the  state.  Scaurus,  in  particular,  was  also 
of  noble  lineage,  being  the  great-grandson  of  the  celebrated  chief 
of  the  senate.  His  oratory  was  almost  confined  to  declamation, 
but  was  far  above  the  general  level  of  the  time.  Careless,  and 
often  full  of  faults,  it  yet  carried  his  hearers  away  by  its  native 
power  and  dignity.2  Asinius  Gallus,  the  son  of  Pollio,  so  far 
followed  his  father  as  to  take  a  strong  interest  in  poliiics,  and  with 
filial  enthusiasm  compared  him  favourably  with  Cicero.  Domitius 
Afer  also  is  mentioned  by  Tacitus  as  an  able  but  dissolute  man, 
who  under  a  better  system  might  have  been  a  good  speaker. 

1  Notices  of  Celsns  are — on  his  Husbandry,  Quint.  XII.  xi.  24,  Colrnn.  L 
i.  14  ;  on  his  Rhetoric,  Quint  IX.  i.  18,  et  saep  ;  on  his  Philosophy,  Quint 
X.  i.  124 ;  on  his  Tactics,  Veget.  i.  8.  Celsus  died  in  the  time  of  Nercfc 
under  whom  he  wrote  one  or  two  political  works. 

*  See  Sea    Contr.  Praef.  X.  2-4, 


PHAEDRUS.  31V 

A  writer  of  some  mark  was  Cremutii's  Cordus,  whose  eloquent 
account  of  the  rise  of  the  Empire  cott  him  his  life :  in  direct 
defiance  of  the  fasionable  cant  of  the  day  he  had  called  Cassius 
"  the  last  of  the  Romans."  The  higher  spirits  seemed  to  take  a 
gloomy  pleasure  in  speaking  out  before  the  tyrant,  even  if  it  were 
only  with  their  last  breath ;  more  than  one  striking  instance  of 
this  is  recorded  by  Tacitus ;  and  though  he  questions  the  wisdom 
of  relieving  personal  indignation  by  a  vain  invective,  which  must 
bring-  death  and  ruin  on  the  speaker  and  all  his  family,  and  in 
the  end  only  tighten  the  yoke  it  tries  to  shake,  yet  the  intract 
able  pride  of  these  representatives  of  the  old  families  has  some- 
thing about  it  to  which,  human  as  we  are,  we  cannot  refuse  our 
sympathy.  The  only  other  prose-writer  we  need  mention  is 
Aufidius  Bassus,  who  described  the  Civil  Wars  and  the  German 
expeditions,  and  is  mentioned  with  great  respect  by  Tacitus. 

Poetry  is  represented  by  the  fifth  book  of  Manilius,  by 
Phaedrus's  Fables,  and  perhaps  by  the  translation  of  Aratus 
ascribed  to  Germanicus,  the  nephew  and  adopted  son  of  Tiberius. 
This  translation,  which  is  both  elegant  and  faithful,  and  superior 
to  Cicero's  in  poetical  inspiration,  has  been  claimed,  but  with  less 
probability,  for  Domitian,  who,  as  is  well  known,  affected  the  title 
of  Germanicus.1  But  the  consent  of  the  most  ancient  critics  tends 
to  restore  Germanicus  Drusus  as  the  author,  the  title  genitor 
applied  to  Tiberius  not  being  proof  positive  the  other  way. 

The  only  writer  who  mentions  Phaedrus  is  Martial,2  and  he 
only  in  a  single  passage.  The  Aesopian  beast-fable  was  a  humble 
form  of  art  peculiarly  suited  to  a  period  of  political  and  literary 
depression.  Seneca  in  his  Consolatio  ad  Polybium  implies  that 
that  imperial  favourite  had  cidtivated  it  with  success.  Apparently 
he  did  not  know  of  Phaedrus ;  and  this  fact  agrees  with  the 
frequent  complaints  that  Phaedrus  makes  to  the  effect  that  he  is 
not  appreciated.  Of  his  life  we  know  only  what  we  can  gather 
from  his  own  book.  He  was  born  in  Pieria,  and  became  the  slave 
of  Augustus,  who  set  him  free,  and  seems  to  have  given  him  his 
patronage.  The  poet  was  proud  of  his  Greek  birth,  but  wa? 
brought  to  Rome  at  so  early  an  age  as  to  belong  almost  equally  to 
both  nationalities.  His  poverty3  did  not  secure  him  from  persecu- 
tion, Sejanus,  ever  suspicious  and  watchful,  detected  the 
political  allusions  veiled  beneath  the  disguise  of  fable,  and  made 
the  poet  feel  his  anger.  The  duration  of  Phaedrus's  career  ifl 
uncertain.  The  first  two  books  were  all  that  he  published  in 
Tiberius's  reign  ;  the  third,  dedicated  to  Eutychus,  and  the  fourth 

1  Quint  X.  i.  91.        a  Mart  III.  20,  Aemulatur  improbi  iocos  Pkcudri. 
»  Ph&?d.  III.  prol.  21. 


350  HISTORY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 

to  Particulo,  Claudius's  favourite,  clearly  show  that  he  continued  to 
write  over  a  considerable  time.  The  date  of  Book  V.  is  not 
mentioned,  but  it  can  hardly  be  earlier  than  the  close  of  Claudius's 
reign.  Thus  we  have  a  period  of  nearly  thirty  years  during 
which  these  five  short  books  were  produced. 

Like  all  who  con  over  their  own  compositions,  Phaedrus  had  an 
unreasonably  high  opinion  of  their  merit.  Literary  reputation 
was  his  chief  desire,  and  he  thought  himself  secure  of  it.  He 
echoes  the  boast  so  many  greater  men  have  made  before  him, 
that  he  is  the  first  to  import  a  form  of  Greek  art;  but  he 
limits  his  imitation  to  the  general  scope,  reserving  to  himself  the 
right  to  vary  the  particular  form  in  each  fable  as  he  thinks  fit.1 
The  careful  way  in  which  he  defines  at  what  point  his  obligations 
to  Aesop  cease  and  his  own  invention  begins,  showrs  him  to  have 
had  something  of  the  trifler  and  a  great  deal  of  the  egotist.  His 
love  of  condensation  is  natural,  for  a  fabulist  should  be  short, 
trenchant,  and  almost  proverbial  in  his  style ;  but  Phaedrus  carries 
these  to  the  point  of  obscurity  and  enigma.  It  seems  as  if  at 
times  he  did  not  see  his  drift  himself.  To  this  fault  is  akin  the 
constant  moralising  tone  which  reflects  rather  than  paints,  enforces 
rather  than  elicits  its  lesson.  He  is  himself  a  small  sage,  and  all  his 
animals  are  small  sages  too.  They  have  not  the  life-like  reality  of 
those  of  Aesop ;  they  are  mere  lay  figures.  His  technical  skill  is 
very  considerable ;  the  iambic  senarius  becomes  in  his  hands  an 
extremely  pleasing  rhythm,  though  the  occurrence  of  spondees  in 
the  second  and  fourth  place  savours  of  archaic  usage.  His  diction 
is  hardly  varied  enough  to  admit  of  clear  reference  to  a  standard, 
but  on  the  whole  it  may  be  pronounced  nearer  to  the  silver  than 
the  golden  Latin ity,  especially  in  the  frequent  use  of  abstract 
words.  His  confident  predictions  of  immortality  were  nearly 
being  falsified  by  the  burning,  by  certain  zealots,  cf  an  abbey  in 
France,  wrhere  alone  the  MS.  existed  (1561  a.d.)  ;  but  Phaedrus, 
in  common  with  many  others;  was  rescued  from  the  worthy 
Calvinists,  and  has  since  held  a  quiet  corner  to  himself  in  the 
temple  of  fame. 

A  poet  whose  misfortunes  were  of  service  to  his  talent,  was 
Pomponius  Secundus.  His  friendship  with  Aelius  Gallus,  son  to 
8ejanus,  caused  him  to  be  imprisoned  during  several  years.  While 
in  this  condition  he  devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  wrote  many 
tragedies  which  are  spoken  well  of  by  Quintilian  :  "  Eoruni 
(tragic  poets)  quos  viderim  longe  princeps  Pomponius  Secundus. "J 
He  was  an  acute  rhetorician,  and  a  purist  in  language.      Th« 

1  Phaed.  1 V.  proL.  11 ;  he  carefully  defines  his  fables  as  Aesopiae,  not  Afiiopi. 
■  Quint.  X.  i  95. 


roMPcmcis  SECUNDUS.  351 

extant  names  of  his  plays  are  Aeneas,  and  perhaps  Armorum 
Judicium  and  Atreus,  but  these  last  two  are  uncertain.  Tragedy 
was  much  cultivated  during  the  imperial  times ;  for  it  formed  an 
outlet  for  feeling  not  otherwise  safe  to  express,  and  it  admitted  all 
the  ornaments  of  rhetoric.  Those  who  regard  the  tragedies  of 
Seneca  as  the  work  of  the  father,  would  refer  them  to  this  reign, 
to  the  end  of  which  the  old  man's  activity  lasted,  though  his 
energies  were  more  taken  up  with  watching  and  guiding  the  careers 
of  his  children  than  with  original  composition.  When  Tiberius 
died  (37  a.d.)  literature  could  hardly  have  been  at  a  lower  ebb; 
but  even  then  there  were  young  men  forming  their  minds  and 
imbibing  new  canons  of  taste,  who  were  destined  before  long — 
for  almost  all  wrote  early — to  redeem  the  age  from  the  charge 
of  dulnesa,  perhaps  at  too  great  a  sacrifice. 


CHAPTER  IL 

The  Eeigns  of  Ca  jgula,  Claudius,  and  2Tero  (37-38  a.i>.). 

1.  Poets. 

We  have  grouped  these  three  emperors  under  a  single  heading 
because  the  shortness  of  the  reigns  of  the  two  former  prevented 
the  formation  of  any  special  school  of  literature.  It  is  otherwise 
with  the  reign  of  Nero.  To  this  belongs  a  constellation  of  some  of 
the  most  brilliant  authors  that  Eome  ever  produced.  And  they 
are  characterised  by  some  very  special  traits.  Instead  of  the 
depression  we  noticed  under  Tiberius  we  now  observe  a  forced 
vivacity  and  sprightliness,  even  in  dealing  with  the  most  awful 
or  serious  subjects,  which  is  unlike  anything  we  have  hitherto  met 
with  in  Roman  literature.  It  is  quite  different  from  the  natural 
gaiety  of  Catullus ;  equally  so  from  the  witty  frivolity  of  Ovid. 
It  is  not  in  the  least  meant  to  be  frivolous ;  on  the  contrary  il 
arises  from  an  overstrained  earnestness,  and  a  desire  to  say  every- 
thing in  the  most  pointed  and  emphatic  form  in  which  it  can  be 
said.  To  whatever  school  the  writers  belong,  this  characteristic  is 
always  present.  Persius  shows  it  as  much  as  Seneca ;  the  his- 
torians as  much  as  the  rhetors.  The  only  one  who  is  not  imbued 
with  it  is  the  professed  wit  Petronius.  Probably  he  had  exhausted 
it  in  conversation ;  perhaps  he  disapproved  of  it  as  a  corrupt  im- 
portation of  the  Senecas. 

The  emperors  themselves  were  all  literati.  Caligula,  it  is  true, 
did  not  publish,  but  he  gave  great  attention  to  eloquence,  and  was 
even  more  vigorous  as  an  extempore  speaker  than  as  a  writer. 
His  mental  derangement  affected  his  criticism.  He  thought  at  one 
time  of  burning  all  the  copies  of  Homer  that  could  bo  got  at ;  at 
another  of  removing  all  the  statues  of  Livy  and  Virgil,  the  cue  as 
unlearned  and  uncritical,  the  other  as  verbose  and  negligent.  0  Qa 
is  puzzled  to  know  to  which  respectively  these  criticisms  refer. 
We  do  not  venture  to  assign  them,  but  translate  literally  fiunj 
Suetonius.1 

Claudius  had  a  brain  as  sluggish  as  Caligula's  was  over-excitable, 

1  Cal.  34. 


NERO'S  POETRY.  353 

nevertheless  lie  prosecuted  literature  with  care,  and  published 
Beveral  worts.  Among  these  was  a  history,  beginning  with  the 
death  of  Julius  Caesar,  in  forty-three  volumes,1  an  autobiography 
in  eight,2  "magis  inepte  quam  ineleganter  scriptum;"  a  learned 
defence  of  Cicero  against  Asinius  Gallus's  invective,  besides  several 
Greek  writings.  His  philological  studies  and  the  innovations  he 
tried  to  introduce  have  been  referred  to  in  a  former  chapter.3 

Nero,  while  a  young  man  before  his  accession,  tried  his  powers 
in  nearly  every  department  of  letters.  He  approached  philosophy, 
but  his  prudent  mother  deterred  him  from  a  study  which  might 
lead  him  to  views  "above  his  station  as  a  prince."  He  next 
turned  to  the  old  orators,  but  here  his  preceptor  Seneca  intervened, 
Tacitus  insinuates,  with  the  motive  of  turning  him  from  the  best 
models  to  an  admiration  of  his  own  more  seductive  style.  Nero 
declaimed  frequently  in  public,  and  his  poetical  effusions  seem  to 
have  possessed  some  real  merit.  At  the  first  celebration  of  the 
festival  called  Neroniana  he  was  crowned  with  the  wreath  of 
victory.  His  most  celebrated  poem,  the  one  that  drew  down  on 
him  the  irony  of  Juvenal,  was  the  Troica,  in  which  perhaps 
occurred  the  Troiae  Halosis  which  this  madman  recited  in  state 
over  the  burning  ruins  of  Eonie,  and  which  is  parodied  with  subtle 
mockery  in  Petronius.  Other  poems  were  of  a  lighter  cast  and 
intended  to  be  sung  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  harp.  These 
were  the  crowning  scandal  of  his  imperial  vagaries  in  the  eyes  of 
patriotic  Romans.  "  With  our  prince  a  fiddler,"  cries  Juvenal, 
"what  further  disgrace  remains?"  King  Lewis  of  Bavaria  and 
some  other  great  personages  of  our  era  would  perhaps  object  to 
Juvenal's  conclusion.  With  all  these  accomplishments,  however, 
Nero  either  could  not  or  would  not  speak.  He  had  not  the  vigour 
of  mind  necessary  for  eloquence.  Hence  he  usually  employed 
Seneca  to  dress  up  speeches  for  him,  a  task  which  that  polite 
minister  was  not  sorry  to  undertake. 

The  earliest  poet  who  comes  before  us  is  the  unknown  author  of 
the  panegyric  on  Calpurnius  Piso.  It  is  an  elegant  piece  of  ver- 
sification with  no  particular  merit  or  demerit.  It  takes  pains  to 
justify  Piso  for  flute-playing  in  public,  and  as  Nero's  example  is 
not  alleged,  the  inference  is  natural  that  it  was  written  before  his 
time.  There  is  no  independence  of  style,  merely  a  graceful  re- 
flection from  that  of  the  Augustan  poets. 

We  must  now  examine  the  circumstances  which  surrounded  01 
produced  the  splendid  literature  of  Nero's  reign.  Such  persons  as 
t com  political  hostility  to  the  government,  or  from  disgust  at  tht 

1  Suet.  Claud   41.  •  Id.  ■  Be e  p.  11. 


354  HISTORY   OF   ROMAN   LITERATURE. 

flagitious  conduct  by  which  alone  success  was  to  be  purchased^ 
lived  apart  in  a  select  circle,  stern  and  defiant,  unsullied  by  the 
degradation  round  them,  though  helpless  to  influence  it  for  good. 
They  consisted  for  the  most  part  of  virtuous  noblemen  such  as 
Paetus  Thrasea,  Barea,  Kubellius  Plautus,  above  all,  Helvidius 
Priscus,  on  whose  uncompromising  independence  Tacitus  loves  to 
dwell ;  and  of  philosophers,  moral  teachers  and  literati,  who  sought 
after  real  excellence,  not  contemporary  applause.  The  members  of 
this  society  lived  in  intimate  companionship,  and  many  ladies  con- 
tributed their  share  to  its  culture  and  virtuous  aspirations.  Such 
were  Arria,  the  heroic  wife  of  Paetus,  Fannia,  the  wife  of  Helvidius, 
and  Fulvia  Sisenna,  the  mother  of  Persius.  These  held  reunions 
for  literary  or  philosophical  discussions  which  were  no  mere  con- 
versational displays,  but  a  serious  preparation  for  the  terrible  issues 
which  at  any  time  they  might  be  called  upon  to  meet.  It  had 
long  been  the  custom  for  wealthy  Eomans  of  liberal  tastes  to  main- 
tain a.  philosopher  as  part  of  their  establishment.  Laelius  had 
shown  hospitality  both  to  Panaetius  and  Polybius;  Cicero  had 
offered  a  home  to  Diodotus  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and 
Catulus  and  Lucullus  had  both  recognised  the  temporal  needs  of 
philosophy.  Under  the  Empire  the  practice  was  still  continued, 
and  though  liable  to  the  abuse  of  charlatanism  or  pedantry,  was 
certainly  instrumental  in  familiarising  patrician  families  (and 
especially  their  lady  members)  with  the  great  thoughts  and  pure 
morality  of  the  best  thinkers  of  Greece.  From  scattered  notices 
in  Seneca  and  Quintilian,  we  should  infer  that  the  philosopher 
was  employed  as  a  repository  of  spiritual  confidences — almost  a 
father-confessor — at  least  as  much  as  an  intellectual  teacher. 
When  Kanus  Julius  was  condemned  to  death,  his  philosopher 
went  with  him  to  the  scaffold  and  uttered  consoling  words  about 
the  destiny  of  the  soul;1  and  Seneca's  own  correspondence  shows 
that  he  regarded  this  relation  as  the  noblest  philosophy  could  hold. 
Of  such  moral  directors  the  most  influential  was  Annaeus  Cor- 
nutus,  both  from  his  varied  learning  and  his  consistent  rectitude 
of  life.  Like  all  the  higher  spirits  he  was  a  Stoic,  but  a  genial  and 
wise  one.  Ho  neither  affected  austerity  nor  encouraged  rash  attac  Its 
on  power.  His  advice  to  his  noble  friends  generally  inclined 
towards  the  side  of  prudence.  Nevertheless  he  could  not  so  far 
control  his  own  language  as  to  avoid  the  jealousy  of  Nero.2     He 

1  Sen.  de.  Tr.  14,  4. 

*  Nero  had  asked  Cornutus's  advice  on  a  projected  poem  on  Roman  history 
in  400  books.  Cornutus  replied,  "  No  one,  Sire,  would  read  so  long  a  work.** 
Nero  reminded  him  that  Chrysippus  had  written  as  many.  "True  !"  sail 
Cornutus,  "but  his  books  are  useful  to  mankind. " 


persius.  355 

was  "banished,  it  is  not  certain  in  what  year,  and  apparently  etidecl 
his  days  in  exile.  He  left  several  works,  mostly  written  in  Greek ; 
some  on  philosophy,  of  which  that  on  the  nature  of  the  gods  has 
come  down  to  us  in  an  abridged  form,  some  on  rhetoric  and  gram- 
mar ;  besides  theae  he  is  said  to  have  composed  satires,  tragedies,1 
and  a  commentary  on  Virgil.  But  his  most  important  work  was 
his  formation  of  the  character  of  one  of  the  three  Roman  satirists 
whose  works  have  come  down  to  us. 

Few  poets  have  been  so  differently  treated  by  different  critics  as 
A.  Persius  Flaccus,  for  while  some  have  pronounced  him  to  be  an 
excellent  satirist  and  true  poet,  others  have  declared  that  his  fame 
is  solely  owing  to  the  trouble  he  gives  us  to  read  him.  He  was 
born  at  Volaterrae,  34  a.d.,  of  noble  parentage,  brought  to  Eome 
as  a  child,  and  educated  with  the  greatest  care.  His  first  preceptor 
was  the  grammarian  Virginius  Flavus,  an  eloquent  man  endued 
with  strength  of  character,  whose  earnest  moral  lectures  drew 
down  the  displeasure  of  Caligula.  He  next  seems  to  have  attended 
a  course  under  Eemmius  Palaemon ;  but  as  soon  as  he  put  on  the 
manly  gown  he  attached  himself  to  Cornutus,  whose  intimate 
friend  he  became,  and  of  whose  ideas  he  was  the  faithful  ex- 
ponent. The  love  of  the  pupil  for  his  guide  in  philosophy  is 
beautiful  and  touching ;  the  verses  in  which  it  is  expressed  are 
the  best  in  Persius  :2 

94  Secreti  loquimur :  tibi  nunc  hortante  Camena 
Excutienda  damns  praecordia :  quuntaque  nostrae 
Pars  tua  sit  Cornnte  animae,  tibi,  dulcis  amice, 
Osteudisse  iuvat .  .  .  Teneros  tu  suscipis  anno* 
Socratieo  Cornute  sinu.     Tunc  fallere  sollera 
Apposita  intortos  extendit  regula  mores, 
Et  premitur  ratione  animus  vincique  laborat, 
Artincemque  tuo  ducit  sub  pollice  vultum." 

Moulded  by  the  counsels  of  this  good  "doctor,"  Persius  adopted 
philosophy  with  enthusiasm.  In  an  ago  of  licentiousness  he  pre- 
served a  maiden  purity.  Though  possessing  in  a  pre-eminent 
degree  that  gift  of  beauty  which  Juvenal  declares  to  be  fatal  to 
innocence,  Persius  retained  until  his  death  a  moral  character 
without  a  stain.  But  he  had  a  nobler  example  even  than  Cor- 
nutus by  his  side.  He  was  tenderly  loved  by  the  great  Thrasea,3 
whose  righteous  life  and  glorious  death  form  perhaps  the  richest 
lesson  that  the  whole  imperial  history  affords.  Thrasea  was  a 
Cato  in  justice,  but  more  than  a  Cato  in  goodness,  inasmuch  aa 
his  lot  was  harder,  and  his  spirit  gentler  and  more  human.  Men 
like  these  chnched  the  theories  a  f  philosophy  by  that  rare  consis- 

1  ▼.  Suetonius's  Vita  Persii.  *  Pers.  y.  21.  -  »  lb.  i.  12. 


356  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tency  which  puts  them  into  practice ;  and  Persius,  -with  all  hit 
literary  faults,  is  the  sole  instance  among  Eoman  writers  of  a 
philosopher  whose  life  was  in  accordance  with  the  doctrines  he 
professed. 

Yet  on  opening  his  short  book  of  satires,  one  is  strongly  tempted 
to  ask,  What  made  the  boy  write  them  ?  He  neither  knew  noi 
cared  to  know  anything  of  the  world,  and,  we  fear,  cannot  be 
credited  with  a  philanthropic  desire  to  reform  it.  The  answer  is 
given  partly  by  himself,  that  he  was  full  of  petulant  spleen,1 — an 
honest  confession, — partly  is  to  be  found  in  the  custom  then  be- 
coming general  for  those  who  wished  to  live  well  to  write  essays 
on  serious  subjects  for  private  circulation  among  their  friends, 
pointing  out  the  dangers  that  lay  around,  and  encouraging  them 
to  persevere  in  the  right  path.  Of  this  kind  are  several  of  Seneca's 
treatises,  and  we  have  notices  of  many  others  in  the  biographers 
and  historians.  And  though  Persius  may  have  intended  to  pub- 
lish his  book  to  the  world,  as  is  rendered  probable  by  the  prologue, 
this  is  not  absolutely  certain.  At  any  rate  it  did  not  appear  until 
after  his  death,  when  his  friend  Caesius  Bassus2  undertook  to 
bring  it  out ;  so  that  we  may  fairly  regard  it  as  a  collection  of 
youthful  reflections  as  to  the  advisability  of  publishing  which  the 
poet  had  not  yet  made  up  his  mind,  and  perhaps  had  he  lived 
would  have  suppressed. 

Crabbed  and  loaded  with  obscure  allusions  as  they  are  to  a 
degree  which  makes  most  of  them  extremely  unpleasant  reading, 
they  obtained  a  considerable  and  immediate  reputation.  Lucan 
is  reported  to  have  declared  that  his  own  works  were  bagatelles  in 
comparison.3  Quintilian  says  that  he  has  gained  much  true  glory 
in  his  single  book  -4  Martial,  that  he  is  oftener  quoted  than 
Domitius  Marsus  in  all  his  long  Amazonis.5  He  is  affirmed  by 
his  biographer  to  have  written  seldom  and  with  difficulty.  All 
his  earlier  attempts  were,  by  the  advice  of  Cornutus,  destroyed. 
They  consisted  of  a  Praetexta,  named  Vescia,  of  one  book  of 
travels,  and  a  few  lines  to  the  elder  Arria.  Among  his  prede- 
cessors his  chief  admiration  was  reserved  for  Horace,  whom  he 
imitates  with  exaggerated  fidelity,  recalling,  but  generally  distort- 
ing, nearly  a  hundred  well-known  lines.  The  six  poems  we 
possess  are  not  all,  strictly  speaking,  satires.     The  first,  with  the 

-  "  Sed  sumpetulanti  splene  cachimw^  Pers.  i.  10. 

*  Himself  a  lyric  poet  (Quint.  X.  i.  96)  of  some  rank.  He  also  wrote  a 
didactic  poem,  De  Metris,  of  a  similar  character  to  that  of  Terentianuf 
iraurus.     Persius  died  62  A.  D. 

*  Vit.  Pers. :  this  was  before  he  had  written  the  Pharsalia. 

*  Quint  X.  L  94.  •  Mart.  IV.  xxix.  7. 


persius.  357 

prologue,  rnpy  "be  so  considered.  It  is  demoted  to  an  attack  upoa 
the  literary  style  of  the  day.  Persius  sees  that  the  decay  of  taste 
is  ultimately  joined  with  the  decay  of  morals,  and  the  subtle  con- 
nections he  draws  between  the  two  constitute  the  chief  merit  of 
the  elfusion.  Like  Horace,  but  with  even  better  reason,  he  be- 
wails the  antiquarian  predilections  of  the  majority  of  readers. 
Accius  and  Pacuvius  still  hold  their  ground,  while  Virgil  and 
Horace  are  considered  rough  and  lacking  delicacy  ! 1  If  this  last 
be  a  true  statement,  it  testifies  to  the  depraved  criticism  of  a 
luxurious  age  which  alternates  between  meretricious  softness  and 
uncouth  disproportion,  just  as  in  life  the  idle  and  effeminate,  who 
shrink  from  manly  labour,  take  pleasure  in  wild  adventure  and 
useless  fatigue.  In  this  satire,  which  is  the  most  condensed  of  all, 
the  literary  defects  of  the  author  are  at  their  height.  His  moral  taste 
is  not  irreproachable;  in  his  desire  not  to  mince  matters  he  offends 
needlessly  against  propriety.2  The  picture  he  draws  of  the  fashion- 
able rhetorician  with  languishing  eyes  and  throat  mellowed  by  a 
luscious  gargle,  warbling  his  drivelling  ditties  to  an  excited 
audience,  is  powerful  and  lifelike.  From  assemblies  like  these 
he  did  well  to  keep  himself.  We  can  imagine  the  effect  upon 
their  used-up  emotions  of  a  fresh  and  fiery  spirit  like  that  of 
Lucan,  whose  splendid  presence  and  rich  enthusiasm  throw  to 
the  winds  these  tricks  of  the  reciter's  art. 

The  second,  third,  and  fourth  poems  are  declamatory  exercises 
on  the  dogmas  of  stoicism,  interspersed  with  dramatic  scenes. 
The  second  has  for  its  subject  the  proper  use  of  prayer.  The 
majority,  says  Persius,  utter  buying  petitions  (jprece  emaci),  and 
by  no  means  as  a  rule  innocent  ones.  Few  dare  to  acknowledge 
their  prayers  (aperto  vivere  voto).  After  sixty  lines  of  indignant 
remonstrance,  he  closes  with  a  noble  apostrophe,  in  which  some  of 
the  thoughts  rise  almost  to  a  Christian  height — "  0  souls  bent  to 
earth,  empty  of  divine  things  !  What  boots  it  to  import  these 
morals  of  ours  into  the  temples,  and  to  imagine  what  is  good  in 
God's  sight  from  the  analogies  of  this  sinful  flesh  1  .  .  .  Why  do 
we  not  offer  Him  something  which  Mcssala's  blear-eyed  progeny 
with  all  his  wealth  cannot  offer,  a  spirit  at  one  with  justice  and 
right,  holy  in  its  inmost  depths,  and  a  heart  steeped  in  nobleness 
and  virtue  %  Let  me  but  bring  these  to  the  altar,  and  a  sacrifice 
of  meal  will  be  accepted  !"  In  the  third  and  fourth  Satires  he 
complains  of  the  universal  ignorance  of  our  true  interests,  the 
ridicule  which  the  world  heaps  on  philosophy,  and  the  hap- hazard 
Way  in  which  men  prepare  for  arduous  duties.    The  contemptuous 

i  Para,  i  »6.  *  E.g.  L  87,  103.    Cf.  r.  72. 


358  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

disgu3t  of  the  brawny  centurion  at  the  (to  him)  unmeaning  pro* 
blems  which  philosophy  starts,  is  vigorously  delineated;1  but 
some  of  his  tableaux  border  on  the  ridiculous  from  their  stilted 
concision  and  over-drawn  sharpness  of  outline.  The  undeniable 
virtue  of  the  poet  irritates  as  much  as  it  attracts,  from  its  pert 
precocity  and  obtrusiveness.  What  he  means  for  pathos  mostly 
chills  instead  of  warming :  "  Ut  nemo  in  se  curat  descenders, 
nemo  !  "2  The  poet  who  penned  this  line  must  surely  have 
been  tiresome  company.  Persius  is  at  his  best  when  he  forgets 
for  a  moment  the  icy  peak  to  which  as  a  philosopher  he  has 
climbed,  and  suns  himself  in  the  valley  of  natural  human  affec- 
tions— a  reason  why  the  fifth  and  sixth  Satires,  which  are  more 
personal  than  the  rest,  have  always  been  considered  greatly 
superior  to  them.  The  last  in  particular  runs  for  more  than  half 
its  length  in  a  smooth  and  tolerably  graceful  stream  of  verse, 
which  shows  that  Persius  had  much  of  the  poetic  gift,  had  his 
warped  taste  allowed  him  to  give  it  play. 

We  conclude  with  one  or  two  instances  of  his  language  to  jus- 
tify our  strictures  upon  it.  Horace  had  used  the  expression  naso 
suspendis  adunco,  a  legitimate  and  intelligible  metaphor ;  Persius 
imitates  it,  excusso  populum  suspender e  naso,2  thereby  rendering  it 
frigid  and  weak.  Horace  had  said  clament  periisse  pudorem  Cuncti 
paene  patres  ;4  Persius  caricatures  him,  exdamet  Melicerta  perisse 
Frontem  de  rebus.6  Horace  had  said  si  vis  vie  flcrc,  dolendum  est 
Primum  ipsi  tibi;Q  Persius  distorts  this  into  plorabit  qui  me  volet 
incurvasse  querela?  Other  expressions  more  remotely  modelled  on 
him  are  iratum  Eupoliden  praegrandi  cum  sene  palles,8  and  per- 
haps the  very  harsh  use  of  the  accusative,  linguae  quantum  sitiat 
cams,9  "  as  long  a  tongue  as  a  thirsty  dog  hangs  out." 

Common  sense  is  not  to  be  looked  for  in  the  precepts  of  so 
immature  a  mind.  Accordingly,  we  find  the  foolish  maxim  that 
a  man  not  endowed  with  reason  (i.e.  stoicism)  cannot  do  anything 
aright ; 10  that  every  one  should  live  up  to  his  yearly  income  regard- 
less of  the  risk  arising  from  a  bad  season ; n  extravagant  paradoxes 
reminding  us  of  some  of  the  less  educated  religious  sects  of  the 
present  day  ;  with  this  difference,  that  in  Eome  it  was  the  most 
educated  who  indulged  in  them.  A  good  deal  of  the  obscurity  of 
these  Satires  was  forced  upon  the  poet  by  the  necessity  of  avoid- 

1  Pers.  iii.  77.  •  lb.  iv.  23. 

*  lb.  i.  116.    The  examples  are  from  Nisard.  4  Ep.  ii.  1,  80 

*  Pers.  v.  103.    Compare  Lucan's  use  of frins,  necfrons  erit  ullasenatu\ 
where  it  seems  to  mean  boldness.     In  Persius  it= shame.  8  A.  P.  102. 

7  Pers.  i.  91.    Compare  ii.  10;  L  65,  with  Hor.  S.  II.  vi  10;  II.  vii.  87, 

8  lb.  i.  124.  »  lb.  i.  6».  10  lb.  v.  119.  u  Ifc  vi.  26. 


mTjsonius  rtjfus.  359 

feg  everything  that  could  be  twisted  into  treason.  "We  read  Hi 
Suetonius  that  Nero  is  attacked  in  them  ;  but  so  well  is  the  batk  ry 
masked  that  it  is  impossible  to  find  it.  Some  have  detected  it  in 
the  prologue,  others  in  the  opening  lines  of  the  first  Satire,  others, 
relying  on  a  story  that  Cornutus  made  him  alter  the  line — 

"  Auriculas  asini  Mida  rex  habet," 

to  quis  non  habet  ?  have  supposed  that  the  satire  lies  there.  But 
satire  so  veiled  is  worthless.  The  poems  of  Persius  are  valuable 
chiefly  as  showing  a  good  naturel  amid  corrupt  surroundings,  and 
forming  a  striking  comment  on  the  change  which  had  come  over 
Latin  letters. 

Another  Stoic  philosopher,  probably  known  to  Persius,  was  C. 
Musonius  Rufus,  like  him  an  Etruscan  by  birth,  and  a  success- 
ful teacher  of  the  young.  Like  almost  all  independent  thinkers 
he  was  exiled,  but  recalled  by  Titus  in  his  old  age.  The  influence 
of  such  men  must  have  extended  far  beyond  their  personal 
acquaintance;  but  they  kept  aloof  from  the  court.  This  pro- 
bably explains  the  conspicuous  absence  of  any  allusion  to  Seneca 
in  Persius's  writings.  It  is  probable  that  his  stern  friends,  Thrasea 
and  Soranus  disapproved  of  a  courtier  like  Seneca  professing 
stoicism,  and  would  show  him  no  countenance.  He  was  not  yet 
great  enough  to  compel  their  notice,  and  at  this  time  confined  his 
influence  to  the  circle  of  Nero,  whose  tutor  he  was,  and  to  those 
young  men,  doubtless  numerous  enough,  whom  his  position  and 
seductive  eloquence  attracted  by  a  double  charm.  Of  these  by 
far  the  most  illustrious  was  his  nephew  Lucan. 

M.  Annaeus  Lucan  us,  the  son  of  Annaeus  Mela  and  A  cilia,  a 
Spanish  laefcy  of  high  birth,  was  born  at  Corduba,  39  a.d.  His 
grandfather,  therefore,  was  Seneca  the  elder,  whose  rhetorical  bent 
he  inherited.  Legend  tells  of  him,  as  of  Hesiod,  that  in  his 
infancy  a  swarm  of  bees  settled  upon  the  cradle  in  which  he  lay, 
giving  an  omen  of  his  future  poetic  glory.  Drought  to  Koine, 
and  placed  under  the  greatest  masters,  he  soon  surpassed  all  his 
young  competitors  in  powers  of  declamation.  He  is  said,  while  a 
boy,  to  have  attracted  large  audiences,  who  listened  with  admira- 
tion to  the  ingenious  eloquence  that  expressed  itself  with  equal 
ease  in  Greek  or  Latin.  His  uncle  soon  introduced  him  to  Nero  ; 
and  he  at  once  recognised  in  him  a  congenial  spirit.  They  became 
friendly  rivals.  Lucan  had  the  address  to  conceal  his  superior 
talent  behind  artful  flattery,  which  Nero  for  a  time  believed 
sincere.  But  men,  and  especially  young  men  of  genius,  cannot 
be  always  prudent.  And  if  Lucan  had  not  vaunted  his  success, 
Rome  at  least  was  sure  tc  be  less  reticent.     Nero  saw  that  public 


360  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

opinion  preferred  the  young  Spaniard  to  himself.  The  mutual 
ill-feeling  that  had  already  long  smouldered  was  kindled  into 
flame  by  the  result  of  a  poetical  contest,  at  which  Lucan  was 
declared  victorious.1  Nero,  who  was  present,  could  not  conceal 
his  mortification.  lie  left  the  hall  in  a  rage,  and  forbade  the 
poet  to  recite  in  public,  or  even  to  plead  in  his  profession.  Thus 
debarred  from  the  successes  which  had  so  long  flattered  his  self- 
love,  Lucan  gave  his  mind  to  worthier  subjects.  He  composed, 
or  at  least  finished,  the  Pharsaha  in  the  following  year  (65  B.C.); 
but  with  the  haste  and  want  of  secrecy  which  characterised  him, 
not  only  libelled  the  emperor,  but  joined  the  conspiracy  against  him, 
of  which  Piso  was  the  head.  This  gave  Nero  the  opportunity  he 
desired.  In  vain  the  unhappy  young  man  abased  himself  to 
humble  flattery,  to  piteous  entreaty,  even  to  the  incrimination  of 
his  own  mother,  a  base  proceeding  which  he  hoped  might  gain  him 
the  indulgence  of  a  matricide  prince.  All  was  useless.  Nero  was 
determined  that  he  should  die,  and  he  accordingly  had  his  veins 
opened,  and  expired  amid  applauding  friends,  while  reciting  those 
verses  of  his  epic  which  described  the  death  of  a  brave  cen- 
turion.2 

The  genius  and  sentiments  of  Lucan  were  formed  under  two 
different  influences.  Among  the  adherents  of  Coesarism,  none  were 
so  devoted  as  those  provincials  or  freedmen  who  owed  to  it  their 
wealth  and  position.  Lucan,  as  Seneca's  nephew,  naturally 
attached  himself  from  the  first  to  the  court  party.  He  knew  of 
the  Kepublic  only  as  a  name,  and,  like  Ovid,  had  no  reason  to  be 
dissatisfied  with  his  own  time.  Fame,  wealth,  honours,  all  were 
open  to  him.  We  can  imagine  the  feverish  delight  with  which  a 
youth  of  tliree  and  twenty  found  himself  recognised  Its  prince  of 
Eoman  poets.  But  Lucan  had  a  spirit  of  truthfulness  in  him  that 
pined  after  better  things.  At  the  lectures  of  Cornutus,  in  the 
company  of  Persius,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  this  higher  life.  And 
bo  behind  the  showy  splendours  of  his  rhetoric  thee  lurks  a  sad- 
ness which  tells  of  a  mind  not  altogether  content,  a  brooding  over 
man's  life  and  its  apparent  uselessness,  which  makes  us  believe 
that  had  he  lived  till  middle  life  he  would  have  struck  a  lofty 
vein  of  noble  and  earnest  song.  At  other  times,  at  the  banquet 
or  in  the  courts,  he  must  have  met  young  men  who  lived  in  an 
altogether  different  world  from  his,  a  world  not  of  intoxicating 

1  The  accuracy  of  this  story  has  "been  doubted,  perhaps  not  without  reason. 
Nero'i  contests  were  held  every  five  years.  Lucan  had  gained  the  prize  iu 
one  for  a  laudation  of  Nero,  59  A.D.  (?),  and  the  one  alluded  to  in  the  text 
may  have  been  64  a.d.  when  Nero  recited  his  Troica.     l)io.  lxii.  29. 

•  Perhaps  Phars.  iii.  635.    The  incident  is  mentioned  by  Tac,  Ann.  XT.  70 


LUCAir.  361 

pleasures  but  of  gloomy  indignation  and  sullen  regret ;  to  whom 
the  Empire,  grounded  on  usurpation  and  maintained  by  injustice, 
was  the  quintessence  of  all  that  was  odious :  to  whom  Nero  waa 
an  upstart  tyrant,  and  Brutus  and  Cassius  the  watchwords  of  jus- 
tice and  right.  Sentiments  like  these  could  not  but  be  remem- 
bered by  one  so  impressionable.  As  soon  as  the  sunshine  of 
favour  was  withdrawn,  Lucan's  ardent  mind  turned  with  enthu- 
siasm towards  them.  The  Pharsalia,  and  especially  the  closiug 
books  of  it,  show  us  Lucan  as  the  poet  of  liberty,  the  mourner 
for  the  lost  Republic.  The  expression  of  feeling  may  be  exagger- 
ated, and  little  consistent  with  the  flattery  with  which  the  poem 
opens;  yet  even  this  flattery,  when  carefully  read,  seems  fuller  of 
satire  than  of  praise  :  x 

M  Quod  si  non  aliam  venturo  fata  Neroni 
Inverters  viam,  rnagnoque  aeterna  parantnr 
Regna  deis,  caelumque  suo  servire  Tonanti 
!Non  nisi  saevorum  potuit  post  bella  Gigantura; 
lam  nihil  0  superi  querimur!  Scelera  ipsa  nef'asque 
Hac  mercede  plaeent !  " 

The  Pharsalia,  then,  is  the  outcome  of  a  prosperous  rhetorical 

career  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  a  bitter  disappointment  which 

finds  its  solace  in  patriotic  feeling  on  the  other.     It  is  difficult  to 

see  how  such  a  poem  could  have  failed  to  ruin  him,  even  if  he 

had  not  been  doomed  before.     The  loss  of  freedom  is  bewailed  in 

words,  which,  if  declamatory,  are  fatally  courageous,  and  reilect 

perilous  honour  on  him  that  used  them : 2 

"  Fugiens  civile  nefas  redituraque  nunquam 
Libertas  ultra  Tigrim  Rhenumque3  recessit, 
Ac  toties  nobis  iugulo  quaesita,  vagatur, 
Gerinanum  Scythicumque  bonum,  nee  respicit  ultra 
Ausoniam." 

It  is  true  that  his  love  for  freedom,  like  that  of  Virgil,  was  based 
on  an  idea,  not  a  reality.  But  it  none  the  less  required  a  great 
soul  to  utter  these  stirring  sentiments  before  the  very  face  of  Nero, 
the  "  vultus  instantis  tyranni  "  of  which  Horace  had  dreamed. 

On  the  fitness  or  unfitness  of  his  theme  for  epic  treatment  no 
more  need  be  added  here  than  was  said  in  the  chapter  on  Virgil. 
It  is,  however,  difficult  to  see  what  subject  was  open  to  the  epic- 
ist  after  Virgil  except  to  narrate  the  actual  account  of  what  Virgil 
had  painted  in  ideal  colours.  The  calm  march  of  government 
under  divine  guidance  from  Aeneas  to  Augustus  was  one  side  of 
the  picture.  The  fierce  struggles  and  remorseless  ambition  of  the 
CiviJ  Wars  is  the  other.     Which  is  the  more  true  1     It  would  b« 

1  Phars.  i.  33.  *  lb.  vii.  432. 

•  I.e.  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  Roman  empire. 


362  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

fairer  to  ask,  which  is  the  more  poetical  1  It  was  Lucan  3  mi* 
fortune  that  the  ideal  side  was  already  occupied ;  he  had  no 
power  to  choose.  Few  who  have  read  the  Pharsdlia  would  wish 
it  unwritten.  Some  critics  have  denied  that  it  is  poetry  at  alL1 
Poetty  of  the  first  order  it  certainly  is  not,  but  those  who  will 
forgive  artistic  defects  for  energy  of  thought  and  strength  of  feel- 
ing must  always  retain  a  strong  admiration  for  its  noble  imper- 
fections. 

We  shall  offer  a  few  critical  remarks  on  the  Pharsdlia,  refer- 
ring our  readers  for  an  exhaustive  catalogue  of  its  defects  to  M. 
Nisard's  second  volume  of  the  Poetes  de  la  Decadence,  and  con- 
fining ourselves  principally  to  such  points  as  he  has  not  dwelt 
upon.  In  the  first  place  we  observe  a  most  unfortunate  attitude 
towards  the  greatest  problem  that  can  exercise  man's  mind,  hia 
relation  to  the  Superior  Power.  Lucan  has  neither  the  reverence 
of  Virgil,  the  antagonism  of  Lucretius,  nor  the  awful  doubt  of 
Greek  tragedy.  His  attitude  is  one  of  pretentious  rebellion  and 
flippant  accusation,  except  when  Stoic  doctrines  raise  him  for  a 
time  above  himself.  He  goes  on  every  occasion  quite  out  of  his 
way  to  assail  the  popular  ideas  of  providence.  To  Lucretius  this 
is  a  necessity  entailed  upon  him  by  his  subject ;  to  Lucan  it  ia 
nothing  but  petulant  rhetorical  outburst.  For  instance,  he  calls 
Ptolemy  Fortunae  pudor  crimenque  deorum;2  he  arraigns  the 
gods  as  caring  more  for  vengeance  than  liberty ; 3  he  calls  Septi- 
mius  a  disgrace  to  the  gods,4  the  death  of  Pompey  a  tale  at 
which  heaven  ought  to  blush ; 6  he  speaks  of  the  expression  on 
Pompey's  venerable  face  as  one  of  anger  against  the  gods,6  of 
the  stone  that  marks  his  tomb  as  an  indictment  against  heaven,7 
and  hopes  that  it  may  soon  be  considered  as  false  a  witness  of  his 
death  as  Crete  is  to  that  of  Jove ; 8  he  makes  young  Pompey, 
speaking  of  his  father's  death,  say  :  "  Whatever  insult  of  fate  has 
scattered  his  limbs  to  the  winds,  I  forgive  the  gods  that  wrong, 
it  is  of  what  they  have  left  that  I  complain ; "  9  saddest  of  all,  he 
gives  us  that  tremendous  epigram  : 10 

"  Victrix  causa  deis  placuit,  sed  yicta  Catoni." 
We  recognise  here  a  noble  but  misguided  spirit,  fretting  at  the  dis- 

1  Martial  alludes  to  Quintilian's  judgment  when  he  makes  the  Pharsali* 
»ay,  me  crzticus  negat  esse  poema ;  Sed  qui  vie  vendit  bibliopola  putat. 

2  Phars.  v.  59. 

•  Si  libertatis  Superis  tarn  cura placeret  Quam  vindida  placet,  Phars.  i?.  80& 
4  Superum  pudvr,  Phars.  yiii.  597.  6  lb.  605. 

•  lb.  665.  7  lb.  800. 

•  lb.  869,  Tarn  mendax  Magni  tumulo  quam  Creta  Tonavtia, 

•  lb,  uf,  143.  10  lb.  i.  128. 


LUCAN.  363 

sensations  it  cannot  approve,  because  it  cannot  understand  them. 
Bitterly  disgusted  at  the  failure  of  the  Empire  to  fulfil  all  ita 
promise,  the  writers  of  this  period  waste  their  strength  in  unavail- 
ing upbraidings  of  the  gods.  There  is  a  retrograde  movement  of 
thought  since  the  Augustan  age.  Yirgil  and  Horace  take  sub- 
stantially the  same  view  of  the  Empire  as  that  which  the  philo- 
sophy of  history  has  taught  us  is  the  true  one;  they  call  it  a 
necessity,  and  express  that  belief  by  deifying  its  representative. 
Contrast  the  spirit  of  Horace  in  the  third  Ode  of  the  third  book : 

"  Hac  arte  Pollux  hac  vagus  Hercules 
Enisus  arces  attigit  igneas  ; 

Quos  inter  Augustus  recumbecs 
Purpureo  bibit  ore  nectar," 

with  the  fierce  irony  of  Lucan : 1 

"  Mortal ia  nulli 
Sunt  curata  deo ;  cladis  tumen  hums  habemus 
Vindictam,  quantam  terris  dare  numina  fas  est. 
Bella  pares  superis  faciuut  civilia  divos  ; 
Fulminibus  manes  radiisque  ornabit  et  a.stris, 
Inque  Deum  templis  iurabit  Roma  per  umbras.9' 

Here  is  the  satire  of  Cicero's  second  Philippic  reappearing,  but 
with  added  bitterness.2  Being  thus  without  belief  in  a  divine 
providence,  how  does  Lucan  govern  the  world  1  By  blind  fate, 
or  blinder  caprice  !  Fortuna,  whom  Juvenal  ridicules,3  is  the 
true  deity  of  Lucan.  As  such  she  is  directly  mentioned  ninety- 
one  times,  besides  countless  others  where  her  agency  is  implied. 
A  useful  belief  for  a  man  like  Caesar  who  fought  his  way  to 
empire ;  a  most  unfortunate  conception  for  an  epic  poet  to  build 
a  great  poem  on. 

Lucan's  scepticism  has  this  further  disadvantage  that  it  pre- 
cludes him  from  the  use  of  the  supernatural.  To  introduce  the 
council  of  Olympus  as  Virgil  does  would  in  him  be  sheer  mockery, 
and  he  is  far  too  honest  to  attempt  it.  But  as  no  great  poet  can 
dispense  with  some  reference  to  the  unseen,  Lucan  is  driven  to 
its  lower  and  less  poetic  spheres.  Ghosts,  witches,  dreams, 
visions,  and  portents,  fill  with  their  grisly  catalogue  a  dispro- 
portionate space  of  the  poem.  The  sibyl  is  introduced  as  in 
Virgil,  but  instead  of  giving  her  oracle  with  solemn  dignily,  she 
first  refuses  to  speak  at  all,  then  under  threats  of  cruel  punish- 
ment she  submits  to  the  influence  of  the  god,  but  in  the  roi  1st  of 
the   prophetic   impulse,    Apollo,   for   some   unexplained   reason! 

1  Phars.  vii.  454. 

1  Est  ergo  flamen  ut  Tovi  ,  ,  ,  9ic  Divo  Iulio  M.  Antonius.    Cic.  Phil,  ii 

*  Hos  te,  Nos  i'acimus  Fortuna  deam  caeloqae  locamus,  Juv.  I.  nJt. 


364  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

compels  her  to  stop  short  and  conceal  the  gist  of  her  message.' 
Even  more  unpleasant  is  the  description  of  Sextus  Pompeius'a 
consultation  of  the  witch  Erichtho ; 2  horror  upon  horror  is  piled 
up  until  the  blood  curdles  at  the  sickening  details,  which  even 
Southey's  Thalaba  does  not  approach — and,  after  all,  the  feeling 
produced  is  not  horror  but  disgust. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  his  irreligion  to  his  philosophy. 
Here  he  appears  as  an  uncertain  but  yet  ardent  disciple  of  the  Porch. 
His  uncertainty  is  shown  by  his  inability  to  answer  many  grave 
doubts,  as :  Why  is  the  future  revealed  by  presages  1 3  why  are 
the  oracles,  once  so  vocal,  now  silent?4  his  enthusiasm  by  his 
portraiture  of  Cato,  who  was  regarded  by  the  Stoics  as  coming 
nearest  of  all  men  to  their  ideal  Wise  Man.  Cato  is  to  him  a 
peg  on  which  to  hang  the  virtues  and  paradoxes  of  the  school. 
But  none  the  less  is  the  sketch  he  gives  a  truly  noble  one :  * 

u  Hi  mores,  liaec  duri  immnta  Catcnis 
Secta-fuit,  servare  moduni  fmemqne  t&nere, 
Natuiamque  sequi,  patriaeqne  impendere  vitam, 
Nee  sibi  sed  toti  geuitum  se  credere  mundo." 

Nothing  in  all  Latin  poetry  reaches  a  higher  pitch  of  ethical  sub- 
limity than  Cato's  reply  to  Lajbienus  when  entreated  to  consult 
the  oracle  of  Jupiter  Ammon  : 6  "  What  would  you  have  me  ask  ? 
whether  I  ought  to  die  rather  than  become  a  slave  1  whether  life 
begins  here  or  after  death  1  whether  evil  can  hurt  the  good  man  1 
whether  it  be  enough  to  will  what  is  good?  whether  virtue  is 
made  greater  by  success  1  All  this  I  know  already,  and  Hammon's 
voice  will  not  make  it  more  sure.  We  all  depend  on  Heaven,  and 
though  oracles  be  silent  we  cannot  act  without  the  will  of  God. 
Deity  needs  no  witness :  once  for  all  at  our  birth  he  has  given  us 
all  needful  knowledge,  nor  has  he  chosen  barren  sands  accessible 
to  few,  or  buried  truth  in  a  desert.  Where  earth,  sea,  sky,  and 
virtue  exist,  there  is  God.  Why  seek  we  Heaven  outside  1 " 
These,  and  similar  other  sentiments  scattered  throughout  the  poem, 

1  Phars.  r.  110,  nqq.  *  lb.  vi.  420-830.  » lb.  ii.  1-15. 

4  lb.  v.  199.  •  lb.  ii.  380. 

6  lb.  ix.  566-586.  This  speech  contains  several  difficult &>.  Ir  v.  567  the 
reading  is  uncertain.  The  MS.  reads  An  sit  vita  nihil,  icrt  longam  differai 
actas'f  which  has  been  changed  to  et  lotiga?  an  differ  at  attast  but  the 
original  reading  might  be  thus  translated,  "  Or  whether  life  itself  is  nothing, 
but  the  years  we  spend  here  do  but  put  off  a  long  {ijf.  an  eternal)  life?" 
This  would  refer  to  the  Druidical  theory,  which  seen3  to  have  taken  great 
hold  on  him,  that  life  in  reality  begins  after  death.  Ses  i.  457,  longac  vitaet 
Mors  media  est,  which  exactly  corresponds  with  the  sentiment  in  thil 
passage,  and  exemplifies  the  same  use  of  longus. 


LUCAN.  365 

redeem  it  from  the  charge  of  wanton  disbelief,  and  show  a  large- 
ness of  soul  that  only  needed  experience  to  make  it  truly  great. 

In  discussing  political  and  social  questions  Lucan  shows  con- 
siderable insight.  He  could  not,  any  more  than  his  contempora- 
ries, understand  that  the  old  oligarchy  was  an  anachronism ;  that 
the  stubborn  pride  of  its  votaries  needed  the  sword  to  break  it. 
But  the  influence  of  individual  genius  is  well  pourtrayed  by  him, 
and  he  seizes  character  with  a  vigorous  grasp.  As  a  partisan  of 
the  senate,  he  felt  bound  to  exalt  Pompey ;  but  if  we  judge  by 
his  own  actions  and  his  own  words,  not  by  the  encomiums  heaped 
on  him  by  the  poet,  Lucan's  Pompey  comes  very  near  the  genuine 
historical  man.  So  the  Caesar  sketched  by  Lucan,  though  meant 
to  be  a  villain  of  the  blackest  dye — if  we  except  some  blood- 
thirsty speeches — stands  out  as  a  true  giant  of  energy,  neithei 
meaner  nor  more  unscrupulous  than  the  Caesar  of  history. 
Domitius,  Curio,  and  Lentulus,  are  vigorous  though  somewhat 
defective  portraits.  Cornelia  is  the  only  female  character  that 
calls  for  notice.  She  is  drawn  with  breadth  and  sympathy,  and 
bears  all  the  traits  of  a  great  Eoman  matron.  The  degradation  of 
the  people  is  a  constant  theme  of  lamentation.  It  is  wealth, 
luxury,  and  the  effeminacy  that  comes  with  them  that  have 
softened  the  fibre  of  Borne,  and  made  her  willing  to  bear  a  master. 
This  is  indeed  a  common-place  of  the  schools,  but  it  is  none  the 
less  a  gloomy  truth,  and  Lucan  would  have  been  no  Eoman  had 
he  omitted  to  complain  of  it.  Equally  characteristic  is  his  con- 
tempt for  the  lower  orders 1  and  the  influx  of  foreigners,  of  whom 
Eome  had  become  the  common  sink.  Juvenal,  who  evidently 
studied  Lucan,  drew  from  him  the  picture  of  the  Tiber  soiled  by 
Orontes's  foul  stream,  and  of  the  Bithynian,  Galatian,  and  Cappa- 
docian  knights.2 

With  regard  to  the  artistic  side  of  the  poem  the  firet  and  most 
obvious  criticism  is  that  it  has  no  hero.  But  if  this  be  a  fault,  it 
is  one  which  it  shares  with  the  Divina  Commedia  and  Paradise 
Lost.  As  Satan  has  been  called  the  hero  of  the  latter  poem,  so 
Caesar,  if  not  the  hero,  is  the  protagonist  of  the  Pliarsalia.  But 
Cato,  Pompey,  and  the  senate  as  a  body,  have  all  competed  for 
this  honour.  The  fact  is  this :  that  while  the  primitive  epic  is 
altogether  personal,  the  poem  whose  interest  is  national  or  human 
cannot  always  find  a  single  hero.  It  is  after  all  a  narrow  criticism 
that  confines  the  poet's  art  within  such  strict  limits.    A  great  poet 

1  Capit  impia  plebes  Cespite  patricio  somnos,  Phars.  vii.  760. 

*  Vivant  Galataeque,  Syrique,  Cappadoces,  Gallique,  extremique  orbis  Iberl, 
Armenii,  Cilices,  nam  post  civilia  beila  Hip  populus  Ptomanus  erit,  lb.  vii.  33& 
Compare  Jnv.  iii.  60  ;  vii.  15. 


366  HISTORY  OF  KOxMAN  LITERATURE. 

can  hardly  avoid  changing  or  at  least  modifying  the  existing  canon  I 
of  art,  and  Lucan  should  at  least  be  judged  with  the  same  liberality 
as  the  old  annalists  who  celebrated  the  wars  of  the  Republic 

In  description  Lucan  is  excellent,  both  in  action  and  still  life, 
but  more  in  brilliancy  of  detail  than  in  broad  effects.  His  defect 
lies  in  the  tone  of  exaggeration  which  he  has  acquired  in  the 
schools,  and  thinks  it  right  to  employ  in  order  not  to  fall  below  hig 
subject.  He  has  a  true  opinion  of  the  importance  of  the  Civil  War, 
which  he  judges  to  be  the  final  crisis  of  liome's  history,  and  its 
issues  fraught  with  superhuman  grandeur.  The  innate  materialism 
of  his  mind,  however,  leads  him  to  attach  outward  magnitude  to  alJ 
that  is  connected  with  it.  Thus  Nero,  the  offspring  of  its  throes, 
is  entreated  by  the  poet  to  be  careful,  when  he  leaves  earth  to  take 
his  place  among  the  immortals,  not  to  seat  himself  in  a  quartei 
where  his  weight  may  disturb  the  just  equilibrium  of  the  globe  ! l 
And,  similarly,  all  the  incidents  of  the  Civil  War  exceed  the  parallel 
incidents  of  every  other  war  in  terror  and  vastness.  Do  portents 
presage  a  combat1?  they  are  such  as  defy  all  power  to  conceive. 
Pindus  mounts  upon  Olympus,2  and  others  of  a  more  ordinary  but 
still  amazing  character  follow.3  Does  a  naval  conflict  take  place  1 
the  horrors  of  all  the  elements  combine  to  make  it  the  most  hideous 
that  the  mind  can  imagine.  Fire  and  water  vie  with  each  other  in 
devising  new  modes  of  death,  and  where  these  are  inactive,  it  is  only 
because  a  land-battle  with  all  its  carnage  is  being  enacted  on  the 
closely-wedged  ships.4  Has  the  army  to  march  across  a  desert  1  the 
entire  race  of  venomous  serpents  conspires  to  torture  and  if  possible 
extirpate  the  host ! 5  This  is  a  very  inartistic  mode  of  heightening 
effect,  and,  indeed,  borders  closely  on  that  pursued  in  the  modern 
sensation  novel.  It  is  beyond  question  the  worst  defect  of  the 
Pharsalia,  and  the  extraordinary  ingenuity  with  which  it  is  done 
only  intensifies  the  misconduct  of  the  poet. 

Over  and  above  this  habitual  exaggeration,  Lucan  has  a  decided 
love  for  the  ghastly  and  revolting.  The  instances  to  which  allu- 
sion has  already  been  made,  viz.  the  Thessalian  sorceress  and  the 
dreadful  casualties  of  the  sea-fight,  show  it  very  strikingly,  but 
the  account  of  the  serpents  in  the  Libyan  desert,  if  possible,  still 
more.  The  episode  is  of  great  length,  over  three  hundred  lines, 
and  contains  much  mythological  knowledge,  as  well  as  an  appal- 
ling power  of  description.  It  begins  with  a  discussion  of  the 
question,  Why  is  Africa  so  full  of  these  plagues  1  After  giving 
various  hypotheses  he  adopts  the  one  which  assigns  their  origin 

»Phars.i.  56.  2  lb.  vii.  174. 

•  See  the  long  list,  ii.  525,  and  *he  admirable  criticism  of  M.  Nisard. 

4  Phars.  iii.  538,  sqq.  6  lb.  ix.  735. 


LUCAN.  367 

lo  Medusa's  hair3  which  fell  from  Perseus's  hand  as  he  eailed 
through  the  air.  In  order  not  to  lure  people  to  certain  death  by 
appearing  in  an  inhabited  country,  he  chose  the  trackless  wastes 
of  Africa  over  which  to  wing  his  flight.  The  mythological  dis- 
quisition ended,  one  on  natural  history  follows.  The  peculiai 
properties  of  the  venom  of  each  species  are  minutely  catalogued, 
fiist  in  abstract  terms,  then  in  the  concrete  by  a  description  of 
their  effects  on  some  of  Cato's  soldiers.  The  first  bitten  was  the 
standard-bearer  Aulus,  by  a  dipsas,  which  afflicted  him  with 
intolerable  thirst;  next  Sabellus  by  a  seps,  a  minute  creature 
whose  bite  was  followed  by  an  instantaneous  corruption  of  the 
whole  body ; l  then  Nasidius  by  a  prester  which  caused  his  form 
to  swell  to  an  unrecognisable  size,  and  so  on  through  the  list  of 
serpents,  each  episode  closing  with  a  brilliant  epigram  which 
clenches  the  effect.2  Trivialities  like  these  would  spoil  th6 
greatest  poem  ever  penned.  It  need  not  be  said  that  they  spoil 
the  Pharsalia. 

Another  subject  on  which  Lucan  rings  the  changes  is  death. 
The  word  mors  has  an  unwholesome  attraction  to  his  ear.  Death 
is  to  him  the  greatest  gift  of  heaven ;  the  only  one  it  cannot  take 
away.  It  is  sad  indeed  to  hear  the  young  poet  uttering  senti- 
ments like  this : 3 

"Scire  mori  sors  prima  viris,  sed  proxima  cogi," 

and  again — 4 

"  Victurosque  dei  celant,  ut  vivere  durent, 
Felix  esse  mori." 

So  in  cursing  Crastinus,  Caesar's  fierce  centurion,  he  wishes  him 
not  to  die,  but  to  retain  sensibility  after  death,  in  other  words  to 
be  immortal.  The  sentiment  occurs,  not  once  but  a  hundred 
times,  that  of  all  pleasures  death  is  the  greatest.  He  even  plays 
upon  the  word,  using  it  in  senses  which  it  will  hardly  bear. 
Libycae  mortes  are  serpents  ;  Accessit  morti  Libye,  M  Libya  added 
to  the  mortality  of  the  army ; "  nulla  cruentae  tantum  mortis 
habet;  "no  other  reptile  causes  a  death  so  bloody."  To  one  so 
unhealthily  familiar  with  the  idea,  the  reality,  when  it  came, 
seems  to  have  brought  unusual  terrors. 

The  learning  of  Lucan  has  been  much  extolled,  and  in  soms 
respects  not  without  reason.     It  is  complex,  varied,  and  allusive, 

1  Of  the  scps  Lu^an  says,  Cyniphias  inter  pestes  tibi  palma  nocendi  est ; 
Eripiunt  omnes  animam,  tu  sola  cadaver  (Phars.  ix.  788). 

2  In  allusion  to  the  swelling  caused  by  the  prester,  Non  ausi  tradere  busto, 
Nondum  stante  modo,  crescens  fugere  cadaver  I  Of  the  iaculus,  a  speciea 
which  launched  itself  like  an  arrow  at  its  victim,  Deprensum  est,  quae  funda 
rotat,  quam  lenta  volarent,  quaro  segnis  Scythicae  strideret  arundinis  aer. 

»  Phars.  ix.  211.  4  lb.  iv.  520. 


368  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

but  its  extreme  obscurity  makes  us  suspect  even  when  we  cannot 
prove,  inaccuracy.  He  is  proud  of  his  manifold  acquirements. 
Nothing  pleases  him  more  than  to  have  an  excuse  for  showing  his 
information  on  some  abstruse  subject.  The  causes  of  the  climate 
of  Africa,  the  meteorological  conditions  of  Spain,  the  theory  of 
the  globes,  the  geography  of  the  southern  part  of  our  hemisphere, 
the  wonders  of  Egypt  and  the  views  about  the  source  of  the  Nile, 
are  descanted  on  with  diffuse  erudition.  Eut  it  is  evidently 
Impossible  that  so  mere  a  youth  could  have  had  a  deep  knowledge 
of  so  many  subjects,  especially  as  his  literary  productiveness  had 
already  been  very  great.  He  had  written  an  Iliacon  according  to 
Statius,1  a  book  of  Saturnalia,  ten  books  of  Sihae,  a  Catach- 
thonion,  an  unfinished  tragedy  called  Medea,  fourteen  Salticae 
f alulae  (no  doubt  out  of  compliment  to  Nero),  a  prose  essay  against 
Octavius  Sagitta,  another  in  favour  of  him,  a  poem  De  Incendio 
JJrbis,  in  which  Nero  was  satirised,  a  KaraKav(Tfx6<s  (which  is 
perhaps  different  from  the  latter,  but  may  be  only  the  same  under 
another  title),  a  series  of  letters  from  Campania,  and  an  address 
to  his  wife,  Polla  Argentaria. 

A  peculiar,  and  to  us  offensive,  exhibition  of  learning  consists 
in  those  tirades  on  common-place  themes,  embodying  all  the  stock 
current  of  instances,  of  which  the  earliest  example  is  found  in  the 
catalogue  of  the  dead  in  Virgil's  Cidex.  Lucan,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, delights  in  dressing  up  these  well-worn  themes,  painting 
them  with  novel  splendour  if  they  are  descriptive,  thundering 
in  fiery  epigrams,  if  they  are  moral.  Of  the  former  class  are  two 
of  the  most  effective  scenes  in  the  poem.  The  first  is  Caesar's 
night  voyage  in  a  skiff  over  a  stormy  sea.  The  fisherman  to 
whom  he  applies  is  unwilling  to  set  sail  The  night,  he  says, 
shows  many  threatening  signs,  and,  by  way  of  deterring  Caesar, 
he  enumerates  the  entire  list  of  prognostics  to  be  found  in  Aratus, 
Hesiod,  and  Virgil,  with  great  piquancy  of  touch,  but  without  the 
least  reference  to  the  propriety  of  the  situation.2  Nothing  can  be 
more  amusing,  or  more  out  of  place,  than  the  old  man's  sudden 
erudition.  The  second  is  the  death  of  Scaeva,  who  for  a  time 
defended  Caesar's  camp  single-handed.  The  poet  first  remarks 
that  valour  in  a  bad  cause  is  a  crime,  and  then  depicts  that  of 
Scaeva  in  such  colossal  proportions  as  almost  pass  the  limits  of 
burlesque.  After  describing  him  as  pierced  with  so  many  speari 
that  they  served  him  as  armour,  he  adds  : 3 

"Nee  quicquam  nudis  vitalibus  obstat 
lam,  praeter  stantes  in  summis  ossibus  hastas." 

»  Silv.  U.  7,  64.  *  Phars.  v.  540.  »  lb.  vi  195. 


LUCAN.  369 

This  is  grotesque  enough ;  the  banquet  of  birds  and  1  easts  who 
feed  on  the  slain  of  Pharsalia  is  even  worse.1  The  details  are  too 
loathsome  to  quote.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  list  includes  every 
carrion-feeder  among  flesh  and  fowl  who  assemble  in  immense 
flocks: 

"Nunquam  tanto  se  vulture  caelum 

Induit,  aut  plures  presserunt  aethere  pennae.'* 

We  have,  however,  dwelt  too  long  on  points  like  these.  We 
must  now  notice  a  few  features  of  his  style  which  mark  him  as 
the  representative  of  an  epoch.  First,  his  extreme  cleverness.  In 
splendid  extravagance  of  expression  no  Latin  author  comes  near 
him.  The  miniature  painting  of  Statius,  the  point  of  Martial, 
are  both  feeble  in  comparison ;  for  Lucan's  language,  though  often 
tasteless,  is  always  strong.  Some  of  his  lines  embody  a  condensed 
trenchant  vigour  which  has  made  them  proverbs.  Phrases  like 
Trahimur .  sub  nomine  pans — Momentumque  fuit  mutatus  Curio 
re?*um,  recall  the  pen  of  Tacitus.  Others  are  finer  still  Caesar's 
energy  is  rivalled  by  the  line — 

"Nil  actum  credeus  dum  quid  superesset  agendum." 

The  duty  of  securing  liberty,  even  at  the  cost  of  blood,  was  never 
more  finely  expressed  than  by  the  noble  words  : 

"Ignoratque  datos  ne  quisquam  serviat  enses." 

Curio's  treachery  is  pilloried  in  the  epigram, 

"Eniere  omnes,  hie  vendidit  Urbem."* 

The  mingled  cowardice  and  folly  of  servile  obedience  is  nobly 
expressed  by  his  reproach  to  the  people : 

"  Usque  adeone  times,  quern  tu  facis  ipse  timendum  ?  "8 

An  author  who  could  write  like  this  had  studied  rhetoric  to  some 
purpose.  Unhappily  he  is  oftener  diffuse  than  brief,  and  some- 
times he  becomes  tedious  to  the  last  degree.  His  poetical  art  is 
totally  deficient  in  variety.  He  knows  of  but  one  method  of 
gaining  effect,  the  use  of  strong  language  and  plenty  of  it.  If 
Persius  was  inflated  with  the  vain  desire  to  surpass  Horace,  Lucan 
seems  to  have  been  equally  ambitious  of  excelling  Virgil.  He 
rarely  imitates,  but  he  frequently  competes  with  him.  Over  and 
over  again,  he  approaches  the  same  or  similar  subjects.  Virgii 
had  described  the  victory  of  Hercules  over  Cacus,  Lucan  must 
celebrate  his  conflict  with  Antaeus;  Virgil  had  mentioned  the 
portents  that  followed  Caesar's  death,  Lucan  must  repeat  them 
with  added  improbabilities  in  a  fresh  context ;  his  sibyl  is  but  a 

1  Pbars.  vii.  825.  »  lb.  iv.  823  *  lb.  iv.  185.» 

2  a 


370  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tasteless  counterpart  of  Virgil's;  his  catalogues  of  forces  hav% 
Virgil's  constantly  in  view ;  his  deification  of  Nero  is  an  exagger- 
ation of  that  of  Augustus,  and  even  the  celebrated  simile  in  which 
Virgil  admits  his  obligations  to  the  Greek  stage  has  its  parallel  in 
the  Pharsalia.1 

Nevertheless  Lucan  is  of  all  latin  poets  the  most  independent 
in  relation  to  his  predecessors.  It  needs  a  careful  criticism  to 
detect  his  knowledge  and  imitation  of  VirgiL  As  far  as  other 
poets  go  he  might  never  have  read  their  works.  The  impetuous 
course  of  the  Pharsalia  is  interrupted  by  no  literary  reminiscences, 
no  elaborate  setting  of  antique  gems.  He  was  a  stranger  to  that 
fond  pleasure  with  which  Virgil  entwined  his  poetry  round  the 
spreading  branches  of  the  past,  and  wove  himself  a  wreath  out  of 
lowers  new  and  old.  This  lack  of  delicate  feeling  is  no  less  evident 
in  his  rhythm.  Instead  of  the  inextricable  harmonies  of  Virgil's 
cadence,  we  have  a  succession  of  rich,  forcible,  and  polished 
monotonous  lines,  rushing  on  without  a  thought  of  change  until 
the  period  closes.  In  formal  skill  Lucan  was  a  proficient,  but  his 
ear  was  dull.  The  same  caesuras  recur  again  and  again,2  and  the 
only  merit  of  his  rhythm  is  its  undeniable  originality.3  The  com- 
position of  the  Pharsalia  must,  however,  have  been  extremely 
hurried,  judging  both  from  the  fact  that  three  books  only  were 
finished  the  year  before  the  poet's  death,  and  from  various  indica- 
tions of  haste  in  the  work  itself.  The  tenth  book  is  obviously  un- 
finished, and  in  style  is  far  more  careless  than  the  rest.  Lucan'fl 
diction  is  tolerably  classical,  but  he  is  lax  in  the  employment  of  cer- 
tain words,  e.g.  mors,  fatum,  pati  (in  the  sense  of  vivere),  and  affects 
forced  combinations  from  the  desire  to  be  terse,  e.g.,  degener toga* 
stimulis  negare,5  nutare  regna,  "  to  portend  the  advent  of  des- 
potism ;"6  meditari  Leucada,  "  to  intend  to  bring  about  the  cata- 

1  The  two  passages  are,  Eumenidum  veluti  demens  videtagmina  Pentheus 
Et  solem  geminum  et  duplices  se  osteudere  Thebas;  Aut  Agamemd- 
nonius  scaenis  agitatus  Orestes  Armatum  facibus  matrem  et  squalentibus 
hydris  cum  fugit,  ultricesque  sedent  in  limine  Dirae  (Aen.  iv.  469).  Lu- 
can's  (Pilars,  vii.  777),  runs,  Haud  alios  nondum  Scythica  purgatus  in  ara 
Eumenidum  vidit  vultus  Pelopeius  Orestes  :  Nee  niagis  attonitos  animi 
sensere  tnmultus,  Cum  fureret,  Pentheus,  aut  cum  desisset,  Agave. 

2  Particularly  that  after  the  third  foot,  which  is  a  feature  in  his  style 
(Phars.  vii.  464),  Facturi  qui  monstra  ferunt.  This  mode  of  closing  a  period 
occurs  ten  times  more  frequently  than  any  other. 

3  I  have  collected  a  few  instances  where  he  imitates  former  poets: — Lucre- 
tius (i.  72-80),  Ovid  (i.  67  and  288),  Horace  (v.  403),  by  a  characteristic 
epigram;  Virgil  in  several  places,  the  chief  being  i.  100,  though  the  phrase 
belli  mora  is  not  Virgil's,  ii.  82,  290,  408,  696;  iii.  234,  391,  440,  606; 
iv.  392;  v.  313,  610;  vi.  217,  454  j  vii.  467,  105,  512,  194;  viii.  864  { 
x.  87S.  4  Phars.  i.  363.  •  lb.  viii.  3.  6  lb.  i.  529. 


CALPURNIUS  SICULITS.  371 

strophe  of  Actium,"1  and  so  on.  "We  observe  also  several  innovation* 
in  syntax,  especially  the  freer  use  of  the  infinitive  (vivere  dureid) 
after  verbs,  or  as  a  substantive,  a  defect  he  shares  with  Persius 
(scire  ttium);  and  the  employment  of  the  future  participle  to 
state  a  possibility  or  a  condition  that  might  have  been  fulfilled, 
e.g.,  unumque  caput  tarn  magna  inventus  Privatum  factura  timet 
velut  ensibus  ipse  Imperet  invito  moturus  milite  helium.2  A  strong 
depreciation  of  Lucan's  genius  has  been  for  some  time  the  rule  of 
criticism.  And  in  an  age  when  little  time  is  allowed  for  reading 
any  but  the  best  authors,  it  is  perhaps  undesirable  that  he  should 
be  rehabilitated.  Yet  throughout  the  Middle  Ages  and  during 
more  than  one  great  epoch  in  French  history,  he  was  ranked 
among  the  highest  epic  poets.  Even  now  there  are  many  scholars 
who  greatly  admire  him.  The  false  metaphor  and  exaggerated 
tone  may  be  condoned  to  a  youth  of  twenty-six;  the  lofty  pride 
and  bold  devotion  to  liberty  could  not  have  been  acquired  by  an 
ignoble  spirit.  He  is  of  value  to  science  as  a  moderately  accurate 
historian  who  supplements  Caesar's  narrative,  and  gives  a  faithful 
picture  of  the  feeling  general  among  the  nobility  of  his  day.  He 
is  also  a  prominent  representative  of  that  gifted  Spanish  family 
who,  in  various  ways,  exercised  so  immense  an  influence  on  subse- 
quent Eoman  letters.  His  wife  is  said  to  have  assisted  in  the 
composition  of  the  poem,  but  in  what  part  of  it  her  talents  fitted 
her  to  succeed  we  cannot  even  conjecture. 

To  Nero's  reign  are  probably  to  be  referred  the  seven  eclogues 
of  T.  Calpurnius  Siculus,  and  the  poem  on  Aetna,  long  attributed 
to  VirgiL  These  may  bear  comparison  in  respect  of  their  want  of 
originality  with  the  Satires  of  Persius,  though  both  fall  far  short 
of  them  in  talent  and  interest.  The  MSS.  of  Calpurnius  contain, 
besides  the  seven  genuine  poems,  four  others  by  a  later  and  much 
inferior  writer,  probably  Nemesianus,  the  same  who  wrote  a  poem 
on  the  chase  in  the  reign  of  Numerian.  These  are  imitated  from 
Calpurnius  much  as  he  imitates  Virgil,  except  that  the  decline  in 
metrical  treatment  is  greater.  The  first  eclogue  of  Calpurnius  is 
devoted  to  the  praises  of  a  young  emperor  who  is  to  regenerate  the 
world,  and  exercise  a  wisdom,  a  clemency,  and  a  patronage  of  the 
arts  long  unknown.  He  is  cclebrafed  again  in  Eclogue  IV.,  the 
most  pretentious  of  the  series,  and,  in  general,  critics  are  agreed 
that  Nero  is  intended.  The  second  poem  is  the  most  successful  of 
all,  and  a  short  account  of  it  may  be  given  here.  Astacus  and 
Idas,  tvo  beauteous  youths,  enter  into  a  poetical  contest  at  which 
Thyrsis  acts  as  judge.     Faunus,  the  satyrs,  and  nymphs,  M  Sicoo 

1  Phars.  v.  i79  ■  lb.  r.  364. 


372  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Dryades  pede  Naides  udo,'  are  present  The  rivers  stay  theii 
course;  the  winds  aie  hushed;  the  oxen  forget  theii  pasture;  the 
bee  steadies  itself  on  poised  wing  to  listen.  An  amoebean  contest 
ensues,  in  which  the  rivals  closely  imitate  those  of  Virgil's 
seventh  eclogue,  singing  against  one  another  in  stanzas  of  foui 
lines.     Thyrsis  declines  to  pronounce  either  conqueror : 

"  Este  pares  :  et  ab  hoc  Concordes  vivite  :  nam  voa 
Et  decor  et  cantus  et  amor  sociavit  et  aetas." 

The  rhythm  is  pleasing;  the  style  simple  and  flowing;  and  if  we 
did  not  possess  the  model  we  might  admire  the  copy.  The  tone 
of  exaggeration  which  characterises  all  the  poetry  of  Nero's  time 
mars  the  reality  of  these  pastoral  scenes.  The  author  professes 
great  reverence  for  Virgil,  but  does  not  despair  of  being  coupled 
with  him  (vi.  64)  : 

"  Magna  petis  Corydon,  si  Tityrus  esse  laboras." 

And  he  begs  his  wealthy  friend  Meliboeus  (perhaps  Seneca)  to 
introduce  his  poems  to  the  emperor  (EcL  iv.  157),  and  so  fulfil 
foi  him  the  office  that  he  who  led  Tityrus  to  Rome  did  for  the 
Mantuan  bard.  If  his  vanity  is  somewhat  excessive  we  must  allow 
him  the  merits  of  a  correct  and  pretty  versifier. 

The  didactic  poem  on  Aetna  is  now  generally  attributed  to 
Lucilius  Junior,  the  friend  and  correspondent  of  Seneca.  Scaliger 
printed  it  with  Virgil's  works,  and  others  have  assigned  Cornelius 
Severus  as  the  author,  but  several  considerations  tend  to  fix  our 
choice  on  Lucilius.  First,  the  poem  is  beyond  doubt  much  later 
than  the  Augustan  age ;  the  constant  reproduction,  often  uncon- 
scious, of  Virgil's  form  of  expression,  implies  an  interval  of  at 
least  a  generation ;  allusions  to  Manilius1  may  be  detected,  and 
perhaps  to  Tetronius  Arbiter,2  but  at  the  same  time  it  seems  to  have 
been  written  before  the  great  eruption  of  Vesuvius  (69  a.d.),  in 
which  Pliny  lost  his  life,  since  no  mention  is  made  of  that  event. 
All  these  conditions  are  fulfilled  by  Lucilius.  Moreover,  he  is 
described  by  Seneca  as  a  man  who  by  severe  and  conscientious 
study  had  raised  his  position  in  life  (which  is  quite  what  we 
should  imagine  from  reading  the  poem),  and  whose  literary  attain- 
ments were  greatly  due  to  Seneca's  advice  and  care.  "  Assero  te 
mihi :  meum  opus  es,"  he  says  in  one  of  his  epistles,8  and  in 
another  he  asks  him  for  the  long  promised  account  of  a  voyage 
round  Sicily  which  Lucilius  had  made.     He  goes  on  to  say,  "  1 

1  Metuentia  astra,  51  ;  Sirius  iriex,  247.    Cf.  Man.  i.  3S9  agf. 

•  The  rare  form  LHtis-=Dis  occurs  in  these  two  writeis. 

*  Ep.  84,  2. 


THE  POEM  ON  AETNA.  373 

hope  you  will  describe  Aetna,  the  theme  of  so  many  poets*  song. 
Ovid  was  not  deterred  from  attempting  it  though  Virgil  had 
occupied  the  ground,  nor  did  the  success  of  both  of  these  deter 
Cornel.  Severus.  If  I  know  you  Aetna  excites  in  you  the  desire 
to  write ;  you  wish  to  try  some  great  work  which  shall  equal  the 
fame  of  your  predecessors."1  As  the  poem  further  shows  some 
resemblances  to  an  essay  on  Aetna,  published  by  Seneca  himself, 
the  conclusion  is  almost  irresistible  that  Lucilius  is  its  author. 

Though  by  no  means  equal  to  the  reputation  it  once  had,  the 
poem  is  not  without  merit.  The  diction  is  much  less  stilted  than 
Seneca's  or  Persius's ;  the  thoughts  mostly  correct,  though  rather 
tame ;  and  the  descriptions  accurate  even  to  tediousness.  The 
arrangement  of  his  subject  betrays  a  somewhat  weak  hand, 
though  in  this  he  is  superior  to  Gratius  Faliscus ;  but  he  has  an 
earnest  desire  to  make  truth  known,  and  a  warm  interest  in  his 
theme.  The  opening  invocation  is  addressed  to  Apollo  and 
the  Muses,  asking  their  aid  along  an  unwonted  road. 

He  denies  that  eruptions  are  the  work  of  gods  or  Cyclopes,  and 
laments  over  the  errors  that  the  genius  of  poetry  has  spread 
(74_92)— 

•'Plurima  pars  scaenae  fallacia." 

The  scenes  that  poets  paint  are  rarely  true,  and  often  very  hurtful, 
but  he  is  moved  only  with  the  desire  to  discover  and  communicate 
truth.  He  then  begins  to  discuss  the  power  of  confined  air 
when  striving  to  force  a  passage,  and  the  porous  nature  of  the 
interior  of  the  earth ;  and  (after  a  fine  digression  on  the  thirst  for 
knowledge),  he  examines  the  properties  of  fire,  and  specially  its 
effect  on  the  different  minerals  composing  the  soil  of  Aetna.  A 
disproportionate  amount  (nearly  150  lines)  is  given  to  describing 
lava,  after  which  his  theory  is  thus  concisely  summarised— 

u  Haec  operis  forma  est:  sic  nobilis  uritur  Aetna: 
Terra  foraminibus  vires  trahit,  urget  in  aitum, 
Spiritus  incendit:  vivit  per  maxima  saxa." 

The  poem  concludes  with  an  account  of  a  former  eruption,  signal- 
ised by  the  miraculous  preservation  of  two  pious  youths  who  ven- 
tured into  the  burning  shower  to  carry  their  parents  into  a  place 
of  safety.  The  poem  is  throughout  a  model  of  propriety,  but 
deficient  in  poetic  inspiration;  the  technical  parts,  elaborate  as 
they  are,  impress  the  reader  less  favourably  than  the  digressions, 
where  subjects  of  human  interest  are  treated,  and  the  Roman 
character  comes  out.  Lucilius  called  himself  an  Epicurean,  and 
is  so  far  consistent  as  to  condemn  the  "  fallacia  vatum  "  and  th# 

1  Ep.  79, 1,  5,  7. 


374  HISTOKY  OF  KOMAN  LITERATURE. 

superstition  that  -will  not  recognise  the  sufficiency  of  physical 
causes ;  but  he  (v.  537)  accepts  Heraclitus's  doctrine  about  the 
universality  of  fire,  and  in  other  places  shows  Stoic  leanings.  He 
imitates  Lucretius's  transitions,  and  his  appeals  to  the  reader,  e.g. 
160 :  Falleris  et  nondum  certo  tibi  lumine  res  est,  and  inserts 
many  archaisms  as  ulli  for  ullius,  opus  governing  an  accus. 
cremant  for  cremantur,  auras  (gen.  sing.)  iubar  (masc.)  aureus.^ 
His  rhythm  resembles  Virgil,  but  even  more  that  of  Manilius. 

We  cannot  conclude  this  chapter  without  some  notice  of 
the  tragedies  of  Seneca.  There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that 
they  are  the  work  of  the  philosopher,  nor  is  the  testimony  of 
antiquity  really  ambiguous  on  the  point.2  When  he  wrote  them 
is  uncertain ;  but  they  bear  every  mark  of  being  an  early  exercise 
of  his  pen.  Perhaps  they  were  begun  during  his  exile  in  Corsica, 
when  enforced  idleness  must  have  tasked  the  resources  of  his 
busy  mird,  and  continued  after  his  return  to  Rome,  when  he 
found  that  Nero  was  addicted  to  the  same  pursuit.  There  are 
eight  complete  tragedies  and  one  praetexta,  the  Octavia,  which  is 
gei  erally  supposed  to  be  by  a  later  hand,  as  well  as  considerable 
fr;  gments  from  the  Thebais  and  Phoenissae.  The  subjects  are  all 
fit  m  the  well-worn  repository  of  Greek  legend,  and  are  mostly 
drawn  from  Euripides.  The  titles  of  Medea,  Hercules  furens, 
Hippolytus,  and  Troades  at  once  proclaim  their  origin,  but  the 
Hercules  Oetaeus,  Oedipus  Thyestes,  and  Agamemnon,  are  pro- 
bably based  on  a  comparison  of  the  treatment  by  the  several  Attic 
masters.  The  tragedies  of  Seneca  have  as  a  rule  been  strongly 
censured  for  their  rhetorical  colouring,  their  false  passion,  and  their 
total  want  of  dramatic  interest.  They  are  to  the  Greek  plays  as 
gaslight  to  sunlight.  But  in  estimating  their  poetic  value  it  is 
fair  to  remember  that  the  Roman  ideas  of  art  were  neither  so 
accurate  nor  so  profound  as  ours.  The  deep  analysis  of  Aristotle, 
which  grouped  all  poets  who  wrote  on  a  theme  under  the  title 
rhetorical,  and  refused  to  Empedocles  the  name  of  poet  at  all, 
would  not  have  been  appreciated  by  the  Romans.  To  them  the 
form  was  what  constituted  a  work  poetical,  not  the  creative  idea 
that  underlay  it.  To  utilise  fictitious  situations  as  a  veliicle  for 
individual  conviction  or  lofty  declamation  on  ethical  commonplace, 

1  See  v.  208,  216,  304,  315,  334. 

2  Tac.  A.  xiv.  52,  carmina  crebrius  factitare  points  to  tragedy,  since  that 
was  Nero's  favourite  study.  Mart.  i.  61  7,  makes  no  distinction  between 
Seneca  the  philosopher  and  Seneca  the  tragedian,  nor  does  Quint,  ix.  2,  8, 
Medea  apud  Senecam,  seem  to  refer  to  any  but  the  well-known  name.  M. 
Nisard  hazards  the  conjecture  that  they  are  a  joint  production  of  the  family  ; 
the  rhetorician,  his  two  sons  Seneca  and  Mela,  and  his  grandson  Lucas 
having  each  worked  at  them  I 


THE  TRAGEDIES  OF  SENECA.  375 

was  considered  quite  legitimate  even  in  the  Augustan  ap?.  And 
Sensca  did  but  follow  the  example  of  Varius  and  Ovid  in  the 
tragedies  now  before  us.  It  is  to  the  genius  of  German  criticism, 
so  wonderf ully  similar  in  many  ways  to  that  of  Greece,  that  ve 
owe  the  re-establishment  of  the  profound  ideal  canons  of  art  over 
the  artificial  technical  maxims  which  from  Horace  to  Voltaire  had 
been  accepted  in  their  stead.  The  present  low  estimate  of  Seneca 
is  due  to  the  reaction  (a  most  healthy  one  it  is  true)  that  has 
replaced  the  extravagant  admiration  in  which  his  poems  were  for 
more  than  two  centuries  held. 

The  worst  technical  fault  in  these  tragedies  is  their  violation  cf 
the  decencies  of  the  stage.  Manto,  the  daughter  of  Tiresias  and  a 
great  prophetess,  investigates  the  entrails  in  public.  Medea  kills 
her  children  coram-  populo  in  defiance  of  Horace's  maxim.  These 
are  inexcusable  blemishes  in  a  composition  which  is  made  accord- 
ing to  a  prescribed  recipe.  His  "  tragic  mixture,"  as  it  may  be 
called,  is  compounded  of  equal  proportions  of  description,  declama- 
tion, and  philosophical  aphorisms.  Thus  taken  at  intervals  it 
formed  an  excellent  tonic  to  assist  towards  an  oratorical  training. 
It  was  not  an  end  in  itself,  but  was  a  means  for  producing  a 
finished  rhetor.  This  is  a  dt-^radation  of  the  loftiest  kind  of 
poetry  known  to  art,  no  doubt ;  but  Seneca  is  not  to  blame  for 
having  begun  it.  He  merely  used  the  material  which  lay  before 
him ;  nevertheless,  he  deserves  censure  for  not  having  brought 
into  it  some  of  the  purer  thoughts  which  philosophy  had,  or  ought 
to  have,  taught  him.*  Instead  of  this,  his  moral  conceptions  fall 
far  below  those  of  his  models.  In  the  Phaedra  of  Greek  tragedy 
we  have  that  chastened  and  pathetic  thought,  which  hangs  like  a 
burden  on  the  Greek  mind,  a  thought  laden  with  sadness,  but  a 
sadness  big  with  rich  fruit  of  reflection ;  the  thought  of  guilt 
unnatural,  involuntary,  imposed  on  the  sufferer  for  some  inscrutable 
reason  by  the  mysterious  dispensation  of  heaven.  Helen,  the 
queen  of  ancient  song,  is  the  offspring  of  this  thought ;  Phaedra 
in  another  way  is  its  offspring  too.  But  as  Virgil  had  degraded 
Helen,  so  Seneca  degrades  Phaedra.  Her  love  for  Hippolytus  is 
the  coarse  sensual  craving  of  a  common-place  adulteress.  The 
language  in  which  it  is  painted,  stripped  of  its  ornament,  is  revolt- 
ing. As  Dido  dwells  on  the  broad  chest  and  shoulders  of  Aeneas,1 
so  Phaedra  dwells  on  the  healthy  glow  of  Hippolytus's  cheek,  hid 
massive  neck,  his  sinewy  arms.  The  Roman  ladies  who  bestowed 
their  caresses  on  gladiators  and  slaves  are  here  speaking  through  their 
courtly  mouthpiece.     The  gross,  the  animal — it  is  scarcely  even 

1  Aen.  iv.  11,  Con. 


376  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

sensuoia — predominates  all  through  these  tragedies.  Truly  tho 
Greeks  in  teaching  Eome  to  desire  beauty  had  little  conception  of 
the  fierceness  of  that  robust  passion  for  self-indulgence  which  they 
had  taught  to  speak  the  language  of  aesthetic  love  1 

A  feature  worth  noticing  in  these  dramas  is  the  descriptive 
power  and  brilliant  philosophy  of  the  choruses.  They  are  quite 
unconnected  with  the  plot,  and  generally  either  celebrate  the  praises 
of  some  god,  e.g.,  Bacchus  in  the  Oedipus,  or  descant  on  some  moral 
theme,  as  the  advantage  of  an  obscure  lot,  in  the  same  play.  The 
eclat  of  their  style,  and  the  pungency  of  their  epigrams  is  startling. 
In  sentiment  and  language  they  are  the  very  counterpart  of  his 
other  works.  The  doctrine  of  fate,  preached  by  Lucan  as  well  as 
by  Seneca  in  other  places,  is  here  inculcated  with  every  variety  of 
point1     We  quote  a  few  lines  from  the  Oedipus: 

Fat  is  agimur  :  cedite  fatis. 
Non  sollicitae  possunt  curae 
llutai*  rati  stamina  fusi 
Quicquid  patimur,  mortale  genno, 
Quicquid  facimus  venit  ex  alto  ; 
Servatque  suae  decrcta  colus 
Lachesis,  dura  revoluta  manu. 
Omnia  certo  tramite  vadunt, 
Primusque  dies  dedit  extremum. 
Kon  ilia  deo  vertisse  licet 
Quae  nexa  stria  currunt  eausis. 
It  cuique  ratus,  preee  non  ullo 
Mobilis,  ordo. 

Here  we  have  in  all  its  naked  repulsiveness  the  Stoic  theory  of 
predestination.  Prayer  is  useless ;  God  is  unable  to  influence 
events ;  Lachesis  the  wrinkled  beldame,  or  fate,  her  blind  symbol, 
has  once  for  all  settled  the  inevitable  nexus  of  cause  and  effect 

The  rhythm  of  these  plays  is  extremely  monotonous.  The  greater 
part  of  each  is  in  the  iambic  trimeter ;  the  choruses  generally  in 
anapaests,  of  which,  however,  he  does  not  understand  the  structure. 
The  synaphea  peculiar  to  this  metre  is  neglected  by  him,  and  the 
rule  that  each  system  should  close  with  a  paroemiac  or  dimeter 
ctdalcctic  is  constantly  violated. 

With  regard  to  the  Odavia,  it  has  been  thought  to  be  a  product 
of  some  mediaeval  imitator ;  but  this  is  hardly  likely.  It  cannot 
be  Seneca's,  since  it  alludes  to  the  death  of  Nero.  Besides  its 
style  is  simpler  and  less  bombastic  and  shows  a  much  tenderer 
feeling ;  it  is  also  infinitely  less  clever.  Altogether  it  seems  best 
to  assign  it  to  the  conclusion  of  the  first  century. 

1  Hippol.  1124  and  Oed.  979,  are  the  finest  examples. 


THE   AiruKoKoKvvrttffis.  377 

The  only  other  work  of  Seneca's  which  shows  a  poetical  form  ia 
the  'AiroKokoKvvTuxTis  or  u  Pumpkinification  •  of  the  emperor 
Claudius,  a  bitter  satire  on  the  apotheosis  of  that  heavy  prince. 
Seneca  had  been  compelled,  much  against  the  grain,  to  offer  him 
the  incense  of  flattery  while  he  lived.  He  therefore  revenged  him- 
self after  Claudius's  death  by  this  sorry  would-be  satire.  The  only 
thing  witty  in  it  is  the  title ;  it  is  a  mixture  of  prose  and  verse, 
and  possesses  just  this  interest  for  us,  that  it  is  the  only  example 
we  possess  of  the  Menippean  satire,  unless  we  refer  the  work  of 
Petronius  to  fcui/j  hea4» 


CHAPTER  IH 

The  RmQi  s  of  Caligula,  Claudigs,  and  Nero. 
2.  Prose  Writers — Seneca. 

Op  all  the  imperial  writers  except  Tacitus,  Seneca  is  beyond  con* 
parison  the  most  important.  His  position,  talents,  and  influence 
make  him  a  perfect  representative  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 
His  career  was  long  and  chequered :  his  experience  brought  him 
into  contact  with  nearly  every  phase  of  life.  He  was  born  at 
Cordova  3  A.D.  and  brought  by  his  indulgent  father  as  a  boy  to 
Rome.  His  early  studies  were  devoted  to  rhetoric,  of  which  he 
tells  us  he  was  an  ardent  learner.  Every  day  he  was  the  first  at 
school,  and  generally  the  last  to  leave  it.  While  still  a  young 
man  he  made  so  brilliant  a  name  at  the  bar  as  to  awaken  Caligula's 
jealousy.  By  his  father's  advice  he  retired  for  a  time,  and,  having 
nothing  better  to  do,  spent  his  days  in  philosophy.  Seneca  was 
one  of  those  ardent  natures  the  virgin  soil  of  whose  talent  shows 
a  luxurious  richness  unknown  to  the  harassed  brains  of  an  old 
civilisation.  His  enthusiasm  for  philosophy  exceeded  all  bounds. 
He  first  became  a  Stoic.  But  stoicism  was  not  severe  enough  for 
his  taste.  He  therefore  turned  Pythagorean,  and  abstained  for 
several  years  from  everything  but  herbs.  His  father,  an  old  man 
of  the  world,  saw  that  self-denial  like  this  was  no  less  perilous 
than  his  former  triumphs.  "  Why  do  you  not,  my  son,"  he  said, 
"  why  do  you  not  live  as  others  live  1  There  is  a  provocation  in 
success,  but  there  is  a  worse  provocation  in  ostentatious  abstinence. 
You  might  be  taken  for  a  Jew  (he  meant  a  Christian).  Do  not 
draw  down  the  wrath  of  Jove."  The  young  enthusiast  was  wise 
enough  to  take  the  hint.  He  at  once  dressed  himself  en  mode, 
resumed  a  moderate  diet,  only  indulging  in  the  luxury  of  abstinence 
from  wine,  perfumes,  warm  baths,  and  made  dishes  !  Ho  was  now 
35  years  of  age ;  in  due  time  Caligula  died,  and  he  resumed  his 
pleadings  at  the  bar.  He  was  appointed  Quaestor  by  Claudius, 
and  soon  opened  a  school  for  youths  of  quality,  which  was  very 
numerously  attended.      His  social  successes  were  striking,   and 


LIFE  OF  SENECA.  379 

brought  him  into  trouble.  He  was  suspected  of  improper  intimacy 
with  Julia,  the  daughter  of  Germanicus,  and  in  41  a.d.  was  exiled 
to  Corsica.  This  was  the  second  blow  to  his  career.  But  it  was 
a  most  fortunate  one  for  his  genius.  In  the  lonely  solitudes  of  a 
barbarous  island  he  meditated  deeply  over  the  truth  of  that  philo- 
sophy to  which  his  first  devotion  had  been  given,  and  no  doubt 
struck  out  the  germs  of  that  mild  and  catholic  form  of  it  which  has 
made  his  teaching,  with  all  its  imperfections,  the  purest  and 
noblest  of  antiquity.  While  there  he  wrote  many  of  the  treatises 
that  have  come  down  to  us,  besides  others  that  are  lost.  The 
earliest  in  all  probability  is  the  Consolutio  ad  Marciam,  addressed 
to  the  daughter  of  Cremutius  Cordus,  which  seems  to  have  been 
written  even-'  before  his  exile.  Next  come  two  other  Consola- 
tiones.  The  first  is  addressed  to  Polybius,  the  powerful  freedman 
of  Claudius.  It  is  full  of  the  most  abject  flattery,  uttered  in  the 
hope  of  procuring  his  recall  from  banishment.  That  Seneca  did 
not  object  to  write  to  order  is  unhappily  manifest  from  his  pane- 
gyric on  Claudius,  delivered  by  Nero,  which  was  so  fulsome  that, 
even  while  the  emperor  recited  it,  those  who  heard  could  not  control 
their  laughter.  The  second  Consolation  is  to  his  mother  Helvia, 
whom  he  tenderly  loved ;  and  this  in  one  of  the  most  pleasing  of 
his  works.  Already  he  is  beginning  to  assume  the  tone  of  a  philo- 
sopher. His  work  De  Ira  must  be  referred  to  the  commencement 
of  this  period,  shortly  after  Caligula's  death.  It  bears  all  the 
marks  of  inexperience,  though  its  eloquence  and  brilliancy  are 
remarkable.  He  enforces  the  Stoic  thesis  that  anger  is  not  an 
emotion,  just  in  itself  and  often  righteously  indulged,  but  an  evil 
passion  which  must  be  eradicated.  This  view  which,  if  supported 
on  grounds  of  mere  expediency,  has  much  to  recommend  it,  is  here 
defended  on  a  priori  principles  without  much  real  reflection,  and 
was  quite  outgrown  by  him  when  taught  by  the  experience  of  riper 
years.  In  the  Constantio  Sapieniis  he  praises  and  holds  up  to 
imitation  the  absurd  apathy  recommended  by  Stilpo.  In  the 
De  Animi  Tranquillitate,  addressed  to  Annaeus  Serenus,  the  cap- 
tain of  Nero's  body-guard,1  he  adopts  the  same  line  of  thought,  but 
shows  signs  of  limiting  its  application  by  the  necessities  of  circum- 
stances. The  person  to  whom  this  dialogue  is  addressed,  though 
praised  by  Seneca,  seems  to  have  been  but  a  poor  philosopher. 
In  complaisance  to  the  emperor  he  went  so  far  as  to  attract  to 
himself  the  infamy  which  Nero  incurred  by  his  amours  with  a 
courtesan  named  Acte ;  and  his  end  was  that  of  a  glutton  rather 
than  a  sage.  At  a  large  banquet  he  and  many  of  his  guests  were 
poisoned  by  eating  toadstools  !2 

1  f  iaefectus  vigUum.  *  Ilia.  N.  II.  xxii.  23,  47. 


380  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

Ifc  was  Messalina  who  had  procured  Seneca's  exile.  "When 
Agrippina  succeeded  to  her  influence  he  was  recalled.  This  am- 
bitious woman,  aware  of  his  talents  and  pliant  disposition,  and 
perhaps,  as  Dio  insinuates,  captivated  by  his  engaging  person,  con- 
trived to  get  him  appointed  tutor  to  her  son,  the  young  Nero,  now 
heir-apparent  to  the  throne.  This  was  a  post  of  which  he  was  not 
slow  to  appropriate  the  advantages.  He  rose  to  the  praetorship 
(50  A.D.)  and  soon  after  to  the  consulship,  and  in  the  short  space 
1  of  four  years  amassed  an  enormous  fortune.1  This  damaging  cir- 
cumstance gave  occasion  to  his  numerous  enemies  to  accuse  him 
before  Nero ;  and  though  Seneca  in  his  defence2  attributed  all  his 
wealth  to  the  unsought  bounty  of  his  prince,  yet  it  is  difficult  to 
believe  it  was  honestly  come  by,  especially  as  he  must  have  been 
well  paid  for  the  numerous  violations  of  his  conscience  to  which 
out  of  regard  to  Nero  he  submitted.  Seneca  is  a  lamentable 
instance  of  variance  between  precept  and  example.3  The  authentic 
bust  which  is  preserved  of  him  bears  in  its  harassed  expression 
unmistakable  evidence  of  a  mind  ill  at  ease.  And  those  who 
study  his  works  cannot  fail  to  find  many  indications  of  the  same 
thing,  though  the  very  energy  which  results  from  such  unhappiness 
gives  his  writings  a  deeper  power. 

The  works  written  after  his  recall  show  a  marked  advance  in 
his  conceptions  of  life.  He  is  no  longer  the  abstract  dogmatist, 
but  the  supple  thinker  who  finds  that  there  is  room  for  the 
philosopher  in  the  world,  at  court,  even  in  the  inner  chamber  of  the 
palace.  To  this  period  are  to  be  referred  his  three  books  De  de- 
mentia, which  are  addressed  to  Nero,  and  contain  many  beautiful 
and  wholesome  precepts;  his  De  Vita  Beata,  addressed  to  his 
brother  Novatus  (the  Gallio  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles),  and 
perhaps  the  admirable  essay  De  Beneficiis.  This,  however,  more 
probably  dates  a  few  years  later  (60-62  A.D.).  It  is  full  of 
digressions  and  repetitions,  a  common  fault  of  his  style,  but 
contains  some  very  powerful  thought.  The  animus  that  dictates 
it  is  thought  by  Charpentier  to  be  the  desire  to  release  himself 
from  all  sense  of  obligation  to  Nero.  It  breathes  protest  through- 
out ;  it  proves  that  a  tyrant's  benefits  are  not  kindnesses.  It  gives 
what  we  may  call  a  casuistry  of  gratitude.  Other  philosophical 
works  now  lost  are  the  Exhortat 'tones,  the  De  Ofiiciis,  an  essay  on 
premature  dea'h,  one  on  superstition,  in  which  he  derided  the 
popular  faith,  one  on  friendship,  some  books  on  moral  philosophy, 

1  Said  to  have  amounted  to  300,000,000  sesterces.  Tac.  An.  xiii.  42. 
Juvenal  calls  him  praedivcs.     Sat.  x.  16.  2  An.  xiv.  53. 

*  The  great  blot  on  his  character  is  his  having  composed  a  justification  cl 
Kero's  matricide  on  the  plea  of  state  necessity. 


DEATH  OF  SENEC1  381 

on  remedies  for  chance  casualties,  on  poverty  and  compassion. 
He  wrote  also  a  biography  of  his  father,  many  political  speechet 
delivered  by  Nero,  a  panegyric  on  Messalina,  and  a  collection  of 
letters  to  Novatus. 

The  Stoics  affected  to  despise  physical  studies,  or  at  any  rate  to 
postpone  them  to  morals.     Seneca  shared  this  edifying  but  far 
from  scientific  persuasion.     But  after  his  final  withdrawal  from 
court,  as  the  wonders  of  nature  forced  themselves  on  his  notice, 
he  reconsidered  his  old  prejudice,    and  entered  with  ardour  on 
the  contemplation  of  physical  phenomena.     Besides  the  Naturales 
Quaestiones,  a  great  part  of  which  still  remain,  he  wrote  a  treatise 
De  Motu  Terr  arum,  begun  in  his  youth  but  revised  in  his  old  age, 
and  essays  on  the  properties  of  stones  and  fishes,  besides  mono- 
graphs on  India  and  Egypt,  and  a  short  fragment  on  "  the  form  of 
the  universe."    These,  however,  only  occupied  a  portion  of  his  time, 
the  chief  part  was  given  to  self-improvement  and  those  beautiful 
letters  to  Lucilius  which  are  the  most  important  remains  of  his 
works.     Since  the  death  of  Burrus,  who  had  helped  him  to  influ- 
ence Nero  for  good,  or  at  least  to  mitigate  the  atrocious  tendencies 
of  his  disposition,  Seneca  had  known  that  his  position  was  insecure. 
A  prince  who  had  killed  first  his  cousin  and  then  his  mother,  would 
not  be  likely  to  spare  his  preceptor.     Seneca  determined  to  fore- 
stall the  danger.     He  presented  himself  at  the  palace,  and  entreated 
Nero  to  receive  back  the  wealth  he  had  so  generously  bestowed. 
Instead  of  complying,  Nero,  in  a  speech  full  of  specious  respect, 
but  instinct  with  latent  malignity,  refused  to  accept  the  proffered 
gift.     The  ex-minister  knew  that  his  doom  was  sealed.     He  at 
once  relinquished  all  the  state  in  which  he  had  lived,  gave  no  more 
banquets,  held  no  more  levees,  but  abandoned  himself  to  a  voluntary 
poverty,  writing  and  reading,  and  practising  the  asceticism  of  his 
school.    But  this  submission  did  not  at  all  satisfy  Nero's  vengeance- 
He  made  an  insidious  attempt  to  poison  his  old  friend.     This  was 
revealed  to  Seneca,  who  henceforth  ate  nothing  but  herbs  which 
he  gathered  with  his  own  hand,  and  drank  only  from  a  spring 
that  rose  in  his  garden.     Soon  afterwards  occurred  the  conspiracy 
of  Piso,  and  this  gave  his  enemies  a  convenient  excuse  for  accusing 
him.     It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  he  was  guilty.     Nero's 
thirst  for  his  blood  is  a  sufficient  motive  for  his  condemnation. 
He  was  bidden  to  prepare  for  death,  which  he  accordingly  did 
with  alacrity  and  firmness.     In  the  fifteenth  book  of  the  Annala 
of  Tacitus  is  relate!  with  that  wondrous  power  which  is  peculiar 
to  its  author,  the  di  amatic  scene  which  closed  the  sage's  life.     The 
best  testimony  to  his  domestic  virtue  is  the  deep  affection  of  hit 
young  wife  Paulina.     Pefusinur  all  entreaty,  she  resolute'^  deter 


382  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

mined  to  die  with  her  husband.  Th  37  opened  their  veins  together  ) 
she  fainted  away,  and  was  removed  by  her  friends  and  with  diffi- 
culty restored  to  life  ;  he,  after  suffering  excruciating  agony,  which 
he  endured  with  cheerfulness,  discoursing  to  his  friends  on  the 
glorious  realities  to  which  he  was  about  to  pass,  was  at  length 
suffocated  by  the  vapour  of  a  stove.  Thus  perished  one  of  the 
weakest  and  one  of  the  most  amiable  of  men  ;  one  who,  had  he 
had  the  courage  to  abjure  public  life,  would  have  been  reverenced 
by  posterity  in  the  same  degree  that  his  talent  has  been  admired. 
As  it  is,  he  has  always  found  severe  judges.  Dio  Cassius 
soon  after  his  death  wrote  a  biography,  in  which  all  his  acts  re- 
ceived a  malignant  interpretation.  Quintilian  disliked  him,  and 
harshly  criticised  his  literary  defects.  The  pedant  Fronto  did  the 
same.  Tacitus,  with  a  larger  heart,  made  allowance  for  his  temp- 
tations, and  while  never  glossing  over  his  unworthy  actions,  has 
yet  shown  his  love  for  the  man  in  spite  of  all  by  the  splendid 
tribute  he  pays  to  the  constancy  of  his  death. 

The  position  of  Seneca,  both  as  a  philosopher  and  as  a  man  oi 
letters,  is  extremely  important,  and  claims  attentive  consideration  in 
both  these  relations.  As  a  philosopher  he  is  usually  called  a  Stoic. 
In  one  sense  this  appellation  is  correct.  When  he  places  himself 
under  any  banner  it  is  always  that  of  Zeno.  Nevertheless  it  would 
be  a  great  error  to  regard  him  as  a  Stoic  in  the  sense  in  which  Brutus, 
Cato,  and  Thrasea,  were  Stoics.  Like  all  the  greatest  Roman  thinkers 
he  was  an  Eclectic ;  he  belonged  in  reality  to  no  school.  He  was 
the  successor  of  such  men  as  Scipio,  Ennius,  and  Cicero,  far  more 
than  of  the  rigid  thinkers  of  the  Porch.  He  himself  says,  "  Nullius 
nomen  fero."1  The  systematic  teachers  of  the  Roman  school,  as 
distinct  from  those  who  were  rather  patriots  than  philosophers, 
had  become  more  and  more  liberal  in  their  speculative  tenets, 
more  and  more  at  one  upon  the  great  questions  of  practice.  Since 
the  time  of  Cicero  philosophic  thought  had  been  flowing  steadily 
in  one  direction.  It  had  learnt  the  necessity  of  appealing  to  men's 
hearts  rather  than  convincing  their  intellects.  It  had  become  a 
system  of  persuasion.  Eabianus  was  the  first  who  clearly  proposed 
to  himself,  as  an  end,  to  gain  over  the  affections  or  to  arouse  the 
conscience.  He  was  succeeded,  under  Tiberius,  by  Sotion  the 
Pythagorean  and  Attalus  the  Stoic,2  of  both  of  whom  Seneca  had 
been  an  ardent  pupil.  Demetrius  tAe  Cynic,  in  a  ruder  way,  had 
worked  for  the  same  object.3     In  this  gradual  convergence  oi 

1  Ep.  45,  4;  cf.  2,  5.  *  Ep.  110,  18. 

*  He  was  a  scurrilous  abuser  of  the  government.  Vespasian  once  said  t» 
him,  "  You  want  to  provoke  me  to  kill  you,  but  I  am  not  going  to  order  ■ 
dog  that  harks  to  execution."     Cf.  Sen.  £p.  67,  14  ;  De  ben.  vii.  % 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  SENECA.  383 

diverse  schools  metaphysics  were  necessarily  put  aside,  and  ethic  J 
occupied  the  first  and  only  place.  Each  school  claimed  for  iteelf 
the  best  men  of  all  schools.  "  He  is  a  Stoic,"1  says  Seneca,  "  e"ven 
though  he  denies  it"  The  great  conclusions  of  abstract  thought 
brought  to  light  in  Greece  were  now  to  be  tested  in  their  applica- 
tion to  life.  "  The  remedies  of  the  soul  have  been  discovered  long 
ago ;  it  is  for  us  to  learn  how  to  apply  them."  Such  is  the  giand 
text  on  which  the  system  of  Seneca  is  a  comment.  This  system 
demands,  above  all  things,  a  knowledge  of  the  human  heart.  And 
it  is  astonishing  how  penetrating  is  the  knowledge  that  Seneca 
displays.  His  varied  experience  opened  to  him  many  avenues  of 
observation  closed  to  the  majority.  His  very  position,  as  at  once 
a  great  statesman  and  a  great  moralist,  naturally  attracted  men  to 
him.  And  he  used  his  opportunities  with  signal  adroitness.  But 
his  ability  was  not  the  only  reason  of  this  peculiar  insight.  Cicero 
was  as  able ;  but  Cicero  had  it  not.  His  thoughts  were  occupied 
with  other  questions,  and  do  not  penetrate  into  the  recesses  of  the 
soul.  The  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  circumstances  of  the  time. 
For  a  man  to  succeed  in  life  under  a  regime  of  mutual  distrust, 
which  he  himself  bitterly  compares  to  the  forced  friendship  of  the 
gladiatorial  school,  a  deep  study  of  character  was  indispensable. 
"Wealth  could  no  longer  be  imported:2  it  could  only  be  redistributed. 
To  gain  wealth  was  to  despoil  one's  neighbour.  And  the  secret  of 
despoilirg  one's  neighbour  was  to  understand  his  weakness:  if 
possible,  to  detect  his  hidden  guilt.  Not  Seneca  only  but  all  the 
great  writers  of  the  Empire  show  a  marked  familiarity  with  the 
pathology  of  mind. 

Seneca  tells  us  that  he  loves  teaching  above  all  things  else;  that 
if  he  loves  knowledge  it  is  that  he  may  impart  it.3  For  teaching 
there  is  one  indispensable  prerequisite,  and  two  possible  domains. 
The  prerequisite  is  certainty  of  one's  self,  the  domains  are  those 
of  popular  instruction  and  of  private  direction.  Seneca  tricj  first 
of  all  to  ensure  his  own  conviction.  "Not  only,"  he  says,  "do  I 
believe  all  I  say,  but  I  love  it."4  He  tries  to  make  his  published 
teachings  as  real  as  possible  by  assuming  a  conversational  tone.5 
They  have  the  piquancy,  the  discursiveness,  the  brilliant  flavour 
of  the  salon.  They  recal  the  converse  of  those  gifted  men  who 
pass  from  theme  to  theme,  throwing  light  on  all,  but  not  exhaust- 
ing any.     But  Seneca  is  the  last  man  to  assume  the  sage.     Except 

1  Ep.  64,  2. 

*  Or  at  least  in  a  much  less  degree.  Tacitus  and  Juvenal  give  instance! 
of  rapacity  exercised  on  the  provinces,  but  it  must  have  been  incoi\siderabli 
mm  compared  with  what  it  had  been. 

9  JGp.  6,  4.  *  Ep.  75,  »  •  Ep.  75,  I 


$84  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

pedantry,  nothing  is  so  alien  from  him  as  the  assumption  of  good 
ness.  "  When  I  praise  virtue  do  not  suppose  I  am  praising  myself 
but  when  I  blame  vice,  then  believe  that  it  is  myself  I  blame." l 

Thus  confident  but  unassuming,  he  proceeds  to  the  conimunica- 
tion  of  wisdom.  And  of  the  two  domains,  while  he  acknow- 
ledges both  to  be  legitimate,2  he  himself  prefers  the  second-  Ha 
is  no  writer  for  the  crowd ;  his  chosen  audience  is  a  few  selected 
spirits.  To  such  as  these  he  wished  to  be  director  of  conscience, 
guide,  and  adviser  in  all  matters,  bodily  as  well  as  spiritual 
This  was  the  calling  for  which,  like  Fenelon,  he  felt  the  keenest 
desire,  the  fullest  aptitude.  We  see  his  power  in  it  when  we 
read  his  Consolations  ;  we  see  the  intimate  sympathy  which  dives 
into  the  heart  of  his  friend.  In  the  letters  to  Lucilius,  and  in 
the  Tranquillity  of  the  Soul,  this  is  most  conspicuous.  Serenug 
had  written  complaining  of  a  secret  unhappiness  or  malady,  he 
knew  not  which,  that  preyed  upon  his  mind  and  frame,  and 
would  not  let  him  enjoy  a  moment's  peace.  Seneca  analyses  his 
complaint,  and  expounds  it  with  a  vivid  clearness  which  betrays  a 
first-hand  acquaintance  with  its  symptoms.  If  to  that  anguish  ol 
a  spirit  that  preys  on  itself  could  be  added  the  pains  of  a  yearn- 
ing unknown  to  antiquity,  we  might  say  that  Seneca  was  en- 
lightening or  comforting  a  Werther  or  a  Rene.3 

Seneca's  object,  therefore,  was  remedial ;  to  discover  the  malady 
And  apply  the  restorative.  The  good  teacher  is  artifex  vivendi.4 
He  does  not  state  principles,  he  gives  minute  precepts  for  every 
circumstance  of  life.  Here  we  see  casuistry  entering  into  morals, 
but  it  is  casuistry  of  a  noble  sort  To  be  effective  precepts  must 
be  repeated,  and  with  every  variety  of  statement.  "To  knock 
once  at  the  door  when  you  come  at  night  is  never  enough ;  the 
blow  must  be  hard,  and  it  must  be  seconded.5  Repetition  it  not 
a  fault,  it  is  a  necessity."  Here  we  see  the  lecturer  emphasising 
by  reiteration  what  he  has  to  say. 

And  what  has  he  to  say  1  His  system  taken  in  its  main  out- 
lines is  rigid  enough ;  the  quenching  of  all  emotion,  the  indiffer- 
ence to  all  things  external,  the  prosecution  of  virtue  alone,  the 
mortification  of  the  body  and  its  desires,  the  adoption  of  voluntary 
poverty.  These  are  views  not  only  severe  in  tbsmselves,  but 
views  which  we  are  surprised  to  see  a  man  like  Seneca  inculcate. 

1  Vit  Beat.  17,  3. 

1  Ep.  38,  1.  He  compares  philosophy  to  sun-light,  which  sliinea  ct 
all ;  Ep.  41,  1.  This  is  different  from  l'lat<  :  rb  vkijdos  dStWror  4>i\6<xo<pti 
clroi. 

3  Martha,  Les  MoralisUs  de  V Empire  remain. 

4  Ep.  45.  8Ep.  38,  1;  and  H  *• 


SENECA'S  SYSTEM  FULL  OF  CONCESSIONS.  385 

The  truth  is  he  doe3  not  really  inculcate  them.  In  theory  rigid, 
his  system  practises  easily.  It  is  more  full  of  concessions  than 
ary  other  system  that  was  ever  broached.  It  is  the  inevitable 
result  of  an  ambitious  creed  that  when  applied  to  life  it  should 
teem  with  inconsistencies.  Seneca  deserves  praise  for  the  con- 
spicuous cleverness  with  which  he  steers  over  such  dangerous 
shoals  The  rigours  of  "virtue  unencumbered"  might  be 
preach  3d  to  a  patrician  whose  honoured  name  made  obscurity  im- 
possible ;  but  as  for  the  freedmen,  capitalists,  and  nouveaux  riches1 
of  all  kinds,  who  were  Seneca's  friends,  if  poverty  was  necessary  for 
virtue,  where  would  they  be  1  Their  greatness  was  owing  solely 
to  their  wealth.  Thus  he  wisely  offered  them  a  more  accommo- 
dating doctrine,  viz.,  that  riches  being  indifferent  need  not  be  given 
up,  that  the  good  rich  man  differs  from  the  bad  in  spirit,  not  in 
externals,  &c,  palliatives  with  which  we  are  all  familiar.  To 
take  another  instance.  The  Stoic  system  forbade  all  emotion. 
Yet  we  find  the  philosopher  weeping  for  his  wife,  for  his  child,  for 
his  slave.  But  he  was  far  too  sensible  not  to  recognise  the  noble- 
ness of  such  expressions  of  feeling ;  so  he  contents  himself  with 
saying  "  indulgeantur  non  imperentur."  2 

In  reading  the  letters  we  are  struck  by  the  continual  reference 
to  the  insecurity  of  riches,  the  folly  of  fearing  death,  torture,  or 
infamy,  and  are  tempted  to  regard  these  as  mere  commonplaces  of 
the  schools.  They  had,  however,  a  melancholy  fitness  at  the 
time  they  were  uttered,  which  we,  fortunately,  cannot  realise.  A 
Trench  gentleman,  quoted  by  Boissier,3  declared  that  he  found 
the  moral  letters  tedious  until  the  reign  of  terror  came ;  that  then, 
being  in  daily  peril  of  his  life,  ho  understood  their  searching 
power.  At  the  same  time  this  power  is  not  consistent;  the 
vacillation  of  the  author's  mind  communicates  itself  to  the  person 
addressed,  and  the  clear  grasp  of  a  definite  principle  which  lent 
such  strength  to  Zeno  and  the  early  Stoics  is  indefinitely  diluted 
in  the  far  more  eloquent  and  persuasive  reflections  of  his  Roman 
representative. 

Connected  with  the  name  of  Seneca  is  a  question  of  surpassing 
interest,  which  it  would  be  unjust  to  our  readers  to  pass  entirely 
by.  We  allude  to  the  belief  universal  in  the  Church  from  the 
time  of  Jerome  until  the  sixteenth  century,  and  in  spite  of  strong 
disproof,  not  yet  by  any  means  altogether  given  up,  that  Seneca 
was  personally  acquainted  with  St.  Paul,4  and  borrowed  some  of 

1  Such  as  Serenus,  Lucilius,  &c.  The  old  families  seem  to  have  eschewed  him. 
*  Vit.  Beat.  17,  1.  3  M.  Havet,  Boiss.  Bel.  rom.  vol.  ii.  44. 

4  The  question  is  sifted  in  Aubertin,  Sene-qiie  et  Saint  PaiU;  and  in 
Gaston  Boissier,  La  Religion  rwnainc,  vol.  II.  eh.  ii. 

%m 


386  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

his  noblest  thoughts  from  the  Apostle's  teaching.  The  first  testi. 
mony  to  this  belief  is  given  by  Jerome,1  who  assigns,  as  his  sole 
and  convincing  reason  for  naming  Seneca  among  the  worthies  of 
the  Church  that  his  correspondence  with  Paul  was  extant.  This 
correspondence,  which  will  be  found  in  Haase's  edition  of  the 
philosopher,  is  now  admitted  on  all  hands  to  be  a  forgery.  But 
we  might  naturally  ask  :  Does  it  not  point  to  an  actual  corres- 
pondence which  is  lost,  the  traditional  remembrance  of  which 
gave  rise  to  its  later  fictitious  reproduction  ?  To  this  the  answer 
must  be :  Jerome  knew  of  no  such  early  tradition.  All  he 
knew  was  that  the  letters  existed,  and  on  their  existence,  which 
he  did  not  critically  investigate,  he  founded  his  claim  to  admit 
Seneca  within  the  Church's  pale. 

The  problem  is  by  no  means  so  simple  as  it  appears.  It  in- 
volves two  separate  questions :  first,  a  historical  one  which  has 
only  an  antiquarian  interest,  Did  the  philosopher  know  the 
Apostle?  secondly,  a  more  important  one  for  the  history  of  re- 
ligious thought,  Do  Seneca's  writings  contain  matter  which  could 
have  come  from  no  source  but  the  teaching  of  the  first  Christians. 

As  regards  the  first  question,  the  arguments  on  both  sides  are 
as  follows : — On  the  one  hand,  Gallio,  who  saw  Paul  at  Corinth, 
was  Seneca's  brother,  and  Burrus,  the  captain  of  the  praetorian 
cohort,  before  whom  he  was  brought  at  Konie,  was  Seneca's  most 
intimate  friend.  What  so  likely  as  that  these  men  should  have 
introduced  their  prisoner  to  one  whose  chief  object  was  to  find 
ou1}  truth?  Again,  there  is  a  well  authenticated  tradition  that 
Acte,  once  the  concubine  of  Nero,2  and  the  only  person  who  was 
found  to  bury  him,  was  a  convert  to  the  Christian  faith ;  and  if 
converted,  who  so  likely  to  have  been  her  converter  as  the  great 
Apostle?  Moreover,  in -the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians,  St.  Paul 
salutes  "  them  that  are  of  Caesar's  household,"  and  it  is  thought 
that  Seneca  may  here  be  specially  intended.  On  the  other  side 
it  is  argued  that  the  phrase,  "  Caesar's  household,"  can  only  refer 
to  slaves  and  freedmen :  to  apply  it  to  a  great  magistrate  at  a 
time  when  as  yet  noblemen  had  not  become  body-servants  or 
grooms  of  tl  e  chamber  to  the  monarch,  would  have  been  nothing 
short  of  an  insult ;  that  Seneca,  if  he  had  heard  of  Paul  or  of 
Paul's  Master,  would  naturally  have  mentioned  the  fact,  com- 
municative as  he  always  is ;  that  fear  of  persecution  certainly  need 
not  have  restrained  him,  especially  since  he  rather  liked  shocking 

•  De  Yir.  Ulust  12.  Tertullian  (Ap.  ii.  8,  10)  had  said  before,  Senec* 
waepe  nostcr ;  but  this  only  means  that  he  often  talks  like  a  Christian. 

51  He  afterwards  repudiated  her,  and  she  died  in  great  poverty.  Her  art 
■hows  a  gentle  and  forgiving  spirit 


RELATION  OF  SENECA  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  387 

people's  ideas  than  otherwise  ;  that  everywhere  he  shows  contempt 
and  nothing  but  contempt  for  the  Jews,  among  whom  as  yet  the 
Christians  were  reckoned;  in  short,  that  he  appears  to  knew 
nothing  whatever  of  Christians  or  their  doctrines. 

As  to  this  latter  point  there  is  room  for  difference  of  opinion. 
It  is  by  no  means  clear  that  Christianity  was  unknown  to  the 
court  in  Nero's  reign.  We  find  in  Suetonius 1  a  notice  to  the  effect 
that  Claudius  banished  the  Jews  from  Eome  for  a  sedition  headed 
by  Chrestiis.  Now  Suetonius  knew  well  enough  that  Christus, 
not  Chrestus,  was  the  name  of  the  Founder  of  the  new  religion ; 
it  is  therefore  reasonable  to  suppose  that  in  this  passage  he  is  quot- 
ing from  a  police-magistrate's  report  dating  from  the  time  of 
Claudius.  Again,  it  is  certain  that  under  Nero  the  Christians 
were  known  as  an  unpopular  sect,  on  whom  he  might  safely  wreak 
his  mock  vengeance  for  the  burning  of  the  city ;  and  it  is  equally 
certain  that  his  abominable  cruelty  excited  a  warm  sympathy 
among  the  people  for  the  persecuted.2  The  Jews  were  well  known; 
hundreds  practised  their  ceremonies  in  secret;  even  as  early  as 
Horace3  we  know  that  Sabbaths  were  kept,  and  the  Mosaic 
doctrines  taught  to  noble  men  and  women.  The  penalties  inflicted 
on  these  innocent  victims  must  have  been  at  least  talked  of  in 
Borne,  and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  Seneca  must  have  been 
familiar  with  the  name  of  the  despised  sect.4  So  far,  therefore, 
we  must  leave  the  question  open,  only  stating  that  while  the 
balance  of  probability  is  decidedly  against  Seneca's  having  had 
any  personal  knowledge  of  the  Apostle,  it  is  in  favour  of  his  having 
at  least  heard  of  the  religion  he  represented. 

With  regard  to  the  second  question,  whether  Seneca's  teaching 
owes  anything  to  Christianity,  we  must  first  observe,  that  philo- 
sophy to  him  was  altogether  a  question  of  practice.  Like  all  the 
other  thinkers  of  the  time  he  cared  nothing  for  consistency  of 
opinion,  everything  for  impressiveness  of  application.  He  was 
Stoic,  Platonist,  Epicurean,  as  often  as  it  suited  him  to  employ 
their  principles  to  enforce  a  moral  lesson.  Thus  in  his  Naturales 
Quaedioncs,5  where  he  has  no  moral  object  in  view,  he  speaks  of  the 
Deity  as  Mens  Universi,  or  Natura  ipid,  quite  in  accordance  with 

1  Claud.  25,  " Iudaeos  impulsore  Chresto  assiduc  tumultuantes  expulit." 

•  T  ic.  An.  xv.  44.  a  Eodie  triccsima  Sabbata,  S.  I.  ix. 

4  We  have  seeu  how  the  great  orators  Crassus  and  Antonius  pretended 
that  they  did  not  know  Greek  :  the  same  silly  pride  made  others  pretend 
they  had  never  heard  of  the  Jews,  even  while  they  were  practising  the  Mosaio 
rites.  And  the  number  of  noble  names  (Cornelii,  Pomponii,  Caecilii)  in- 
scribed on  Christian  tombs  in  the  reigns  of  the  Antonines  proves  that  Cliri*. 
(Unity  had  made  way  even  among  the  exclusive  nobility  of  Ijtwt. 

«  IVoL  13  ;  ii.  45. 


388  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Stoic  pantheism.  But  in  the  letters  to  Lucilius,  which  are  wholly 
moral,  he  uses  the  language  of  religion  :  "  The  great  soul  is  that 
which  yields  itself  up  to  God  ;  "l  "  All  that  pleases  Him  is  good  ;"' 
"  He  is  a  friend  never  far  off;"3  "  He  is  our  Father  ;"4  "  It  is  from 
Him  that  great  and  good  resolutions  come;"5  "  He  is  worshipped 
and  loved  ;"6  "  Prayer  is  a  witness  to  His  care  for  us."7  There  is 
no  doubt  in  these  passages  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  teaching  of 
the  New  Testament.  There  are  other  points  of  contact  hardly 
less  striking.  The  Stoic  doctrine  of  the  soul  affirms  the  cessation 
of  existence  after  death.  So  Zeno  taught;  but  Chrysippua 
allowed  the  souls  of  the  good  an  existence  until  the  end  of  the 
world,  and  Cleanthes  extended  this  privilege  to  all  souls  alike. 
Seneca  sometimes  speaks  as  a  Stoic,8  and  denies  immortality: 
sometimes  he  admits  it  as  an  ennobling  belief;9  sometimes  he 
declares  it  to  be  his  own  conviction,10  and  uses  the  beautiful  ex- 
pression, so  common  in  Christian  literature,  that  the  day  of  death 
is  the  birth-day  of  eternity.11  The  coincidence,  if  it  is  nothing 
more  than  a  coincidence,  is  marvellous.  But  before  assuming  any 
closer  connection  we  must  take  these  passages  with  their  respective 
contexts,  and  with  the  principles  which,  whether  consistently  main- 
tained or  not,  undoubtedly  underlie  his  whole  teaching.  "We 
Lmst  remember  that  if  Seneca  had  known  the  Gospel,  the  day  he 
first  heard  of  it  must  have  been  an  epoch  in  his  life.12  And  yet  we 
meet  with  no  allusion  which  could  be  construed  into  an  admission 
of  such  a  debt.  And  besides,  the  expressions  in  question  do  not 
all  belong  to  one  period  of  the  philosopher's  life ;  they  occur  in 
his  earliest  as  well  as  in  his  latest  compositions,  though  doubtless 
far  more  frequently  in  the  latter.  Hence  we  may  explain  them 
partly  by  the  natural  progress  in  enlightenment  and  gentleness 
during  the  century  from  Cicero  to  Seneca,  and  partly  also  by  the 
moral  development  of  the  philosopher  himself.13  Resemblances  of 
terms,  however  striking,  must  not  count  for  more  than  they  are 
worth.     It  is  more  important  to  ask  whether  the  spirit  of  Seneca's 

1  107,  12.                                           *  74,  20.  »  Frag.  123. 

4  Ep.  110,  10,  parens  nosier.             *  41,  2.  •  Ep.  47,  18. 

7  Benef.  iv.  12. 

8  E.g.  In  the  Consol.  ad  Msrc.  19,  5;  ad  Polyb.  9,  3.  Even  in  Ep.  106,  4, 
he  says,  animus  corpus  est.     Cf.  117,  2.  *  57,  7-9  ;  63,  16. 

10  86,  1,  anrmum  eius  in  coelum,  ex  quo  erat,  redisse  persuade  mihi. 

11  102,  26. 

12  Some  have  thought  that  if  he  did  not  know  St  Paul  (who  came  to  Romt 
between  56  and  61  a.d.  when  Seneca  was  no  longer  young)  he  may  hav« 
heard  some  of  the  earlier  missionaries  in  Rome. 

13  He  could  not  have  been  occupied  for  years  in  governing  the  world,  and, 
with  his  desire  for  virtue,  not  have  risen  to  nobler  conceptions  than  thosl 
with  which  he  began. 


RELATION  OF  SENECA  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  389 

teaching  Is  at  all  like  that  of  the  Gospel.  Are  his  ideas  Christian  t 
Wo  meet  with  strong  recommendations  to  charity,  kindness,  bene- 
volence. To  a  splenetic  acquaintance,  out  of  humour  with  the 
world,  he  cries  cit,  ecquando  amabisf  "When  will  you  learn  to 
love?"1  But  with  him  charity  is  not  an  end ;  it  is  but  a  means 
to  fortify  the  sage,  to  render  him  absolutely  self-sufficient.  Egoism 
is  at  the  bottom  of  this  high  precept;2  and  this  at  once  removes 
it  from  the  Christian  category.  And  the  same  is  true  of  his 
account  of  the  wise  man's  relations  to  God.  They  are  based  on 
pride,  not  humility ;  they  make  him  an  equal,  not  a  servant,  of 
the  Deity  :  Sapiens  cum  dis  ex  pari  vivit  ;3  and  again,  Deo  socius 
non  supplex.*-  Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  New  Testament 
than  this.  If  therefore  Seneca  borrowed  anything  from  Chris- 
tianity, it  was  the  morality,  not  the  doctrines,  that  he  borrowed. 
But  this  is  no  sooner  stated  than  it  is  seen  to  be  altogether  incon- 
ceivable. To  suppose  that  he  took  from  it  precepts  of  life  and 
neglected  the  higher  truths  it  announced,  is  to  regard  him  as  foolish 
or  blind.  With  his  intense  yearning  to  penetrate  to  the  mysteries 
of  our  being,  it  is  impossible  that  the  only  solution  of  them  offered 
as  certain  to  the  world  should  have  been  neglected  by  him  as  not 
worth  a  thought.5 

We  therefore  conclude  that  Seneca  received  no  assistance  from 
the  preachers  of  the  new  religion,  that  his  philosophy  was  the 
natural  development  of  the  thoughts  of  his  predecessors  in  a  mind 
at  once  capacious  and  smitten  with  the  love  of  virtue.  He  cannot 
be  regarded  as  an  isolated  phenomenon ;  he  was  made  by  the  ages, 
as  he  in  his  turn  helped  to  make  the  ages  that  followed ;  and  if  we 
possessed  the  writings  of  those  intermediate  thinkers  who  busily 
wrought  among  the  citizens  of  Eome,  striving  by  persuasion, 
precept,  and  example,  to  wean  them  from  their  sensuality  and 
violence,  we  should  probably  see  in  Seneca's  thoughts  a  less 
astounding  individuality  than  we  do. 

It  has  often  been  said  that  he  prepared  the  way  for  Christianity. 
But  even  this  is  hard  to  defend.  In  his  enunciation  of  tho 
brotherhood  of  man,6  of  the  unholiness  of  war,7  of  the  sanctity  of 
human  life,8  of  the  rights  of  slaves,9  and  their  claims  to  our  affec- 
tion,10 in  his  reprobation  of  gladiatorial  shows,  he  holds  the  place 

1  De.  Ira,  iii.  28,  1 ;  cf.  id.  i.  14,  3.  *  De.  Clem.  ii.  6,  2. 

*  Ep.  59,  14 ;  31,  3.  *  53,  11;  cf.  Prov.  69. 

•  This  is  the  more  cogent,  because  we  find  that  the  philosophers  who  wer« 
converted  to  Christianity  all  turned  at  once  to  its  principles,  often  calling  it 
a  pkilosophia.  Its  practice  they  admired  also ;  but  this  was  not  the  first 
object  of  their  attention. 

■  Ep.  95,  52.  7  Ep.  95,  80.  8  Ep.  96,  33,  homo  sacra  ret  hatnini. 

f  Ben.  iii.  28,  2.  M  Ep.  47,  hu  miles  amid. 


390  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

of  a  moral  pioneer,  the  more  honourable,  since  none  of  those  befow 
him,  3xcept  Cicero,  had  had  largeness  of  heart  enough  to  recognise 
these  truths.  By  his  fierce  attacks  on  paganism,1  for  which  (not 
being  a  born  Rxman)  he  has  no  sympathy  and  no  mercy,  he  did 
good  service  to  the  pure  creed  that  was  to  follow.  By  his  con- 
tempt of  science,2  in  which  he  asserts  we  can  never  be  more  than 
children,  he  paved  the  way  for  a  recognition  of  the  supremacy  of 
the  moral  end ;  but  at  the  same  time  his  own  mind  is  sceptical 
quite  as  much  as  it  is  religious.  He  resembles  Cicero  far  more 
than  Virgil.  The  current  after  Augustus  ran  towards  belief  and 
even  credulity.  Seneca  arrests  rather  than  forwards  it.  His 
philosophy  was  the  proudest  that  ever  boasted  of  its  claims, 
"  Promittit  ut  parem  Deo  faciat."  3  His  popularity  was  excessive, 
especially  with  the  young  and  wealthy  members  of  the  new 
nobility  of  freedmen.  The  old  Eomans  avoided  him,  and  his 
great  successors  in  philosophy,  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius, 
never  even  mention  his  name. 

As  a  man  of  letters  Seneca  wielded  an  incalculable  influence. 
What  Lucan  did  for  poetry,  he  did  for  prose,  or  rather,  he  did 
far  more ;  while  Lucan  never  superseded  Virgil  as  a  model  except 
for  expression,  Seneca  not  only  superseded  Cicero,  but  set  the 
style  in  which  every  succeeding  author  either  wrote,  tried  to  write, 
or  tried  not  to  write.  To  this  there  is  one  exception — the  younger 
Pliny.  But  Floras,  Tacitus,  Pliny  the  elder,  and  Curtius,  are 
deeply  imbued  with  his  manner  and  style.  Quintilian,  though 
anxiously  eschewing  all  imitation  of  him,  continually  falls  into  it ; 
there  was  a  charm  about  those  short,  incisive  sentences  which  none 
who  had  read  them  coidd  resist ;  as  Tacitus  well  says,  there  was  in 
him  ingenium  amoenum  ct  temporis  eius  auribus  accommodatum. 
It  is  in  vain  that  Quintilian  goes  out  of  his  way  to  bewail  his 
broken  periods,  his  wasted  force,  his  sweet  vices.  The  words  of 
Seneca  are  like  those  described  in  Ecclesiastes,  "  they  are  as  goada 
or  as  nails  driven  in."  There  is  no  possibility  of  missing  their 
point,  no  fear  of  the  attention  not  being  anested.     If  he  repeats 

1  In  the  treatise  De  Superstition*,  of  which  several  fragments  remain.  It  is, 
however,  probable  that  Seneca  would  have  equally  disliked  any  positive  re- 
ligion.    He  regards  the  sage  as  his  own  temple. 

8  Ep.  88,  37.  There  is  a  celebrated  passage  in  one  of  his  tragedies  (Med. 
370)  where  he  speaks  of  our  limited  knowledge,  and  thinks  it  probable  that 
a  great  New  World  will  be  discovered :  "  Vcnicivt  annis  secida  seris  Quibu* 
Occanvs  vin  :ula  rcrum  Laxct,  ct  ingens  paicat  tcllus,  Tctixysqiie  novos  dctegat 
orbes  Nee  sit  tcrris  ultima  Thule"  an  announcement  almost  prophetic. 

8  Ep.  48,  11.  He  did  not  advise,  but.  he  allowed,  suicide,  as  a  remedy  for 
misfortune  or  disgrace.  It  is  the  one  thing  that  makes  the  wise  man  eve» 
superior  to  the  gods,  that  at  any  moment  he  chooses  he  can  cease  to  be ! 


STYLE  OF  SENECA.  391 

over  and  over  again,  that  is  after  all  a  fault  that  can  be  pardoned, 
especially  when  each  repetition  is  more  brilliant  than  its  prede- 
cessor.    And  considering  the  end  he  proposed  to  himself,  viz.,  to 
teach  those  who  as  yet  were  "  novices  in  wisdom,"  we  can  hardly 
regard  such  a  mode  of  procedure  as  beside  the  mark.     Where  it 
fails  is  in  what  touches  Seneca  himself,  not  in  what  touches  the 
reader.     It  is  a  style  which  does  injustice  to  its  author's  heart 
Its  glitter  strikes  us  as  false  because  too  brilliant  to  be  true  ;  a  man 
in  earnest  would  not  stop  to  trick  his  thoughts  in  the  finery  of 
rhetoric ;  here  as  ever,  the  showy  stands  for  the  bad.     We  do  not 
intend  to  defend  the  character  of  the  man ;  if  style  be  the  true 
reflex  of  the  soul,  as  in  all  great  writers  without  doubt  it  is,  we 
allow  that  Seneca's  style  shows  a  mind  wanting  in  gravity,  that 
is,  in  the  highest  Eoman  excellence.    His  is  the  bright  enthusiasm 
of  display,  not  the  steady  one  of  duty ;  but  though  it  be  lower  it 
need  not  be  less  real.     There  are  warriors  who  meet  their  death 
with  a  song  and  a  gay  smile ;  there  are  others  who  meet  it  with 
stern  and  sober  resolve.     But  courage  calls  both  her  children. 
Christian  Europe  has  been  kinder  and  juster  to  Seneca  than  was 
pagan  Eome.     Eome  while  she  copied,  abused  him.     Neither  as 
Spaniard  nor  as  Eoman  can  he  claim  the  name  of  sage.    The  higher 
philosophy  is  denied  to  both  these  nations.     But  in  brilliancy  of 
touch,  in  delicious  abandon  of  sparkling  chat,  all  the  more  delight- 
ful because  it  does  us  good  in  genial  human  feeling,  none  the  less 
warm,  because  it  is  masked  by  quaint  apophthegms  and  startling 
paradoxes,  Seneca  stands  facile  princeps  among  the  writers  of  the 
Empire.     His  works  are  a  mine  of  quotation,  of  anecdote,  of 
caustic  observations  on  life.     In  no  other  writer  shall  we  see  so 
speaking  a  picture  of  the  struggle  between  duty  and  pleasure, 
between  virtue  and  ambition ;  from  no  other  writer  shall  we  gain 
so  clear  an  insight  into  the  hopes,  fears,  doubts,  and  deep,  abiding 
dissatisfaction  which  preyed  upon  the  better  spirits  of  the  ijge, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tire  Reigns  op  Caligula,  Claudius,  and  Nerol 
3.  Other  Prose  Writers. 

W  «  have  dwelt  fully  on  Seneca  because  he  is  of  all  the  Claudian 
writers  the  one  best  fitted  to  appear  as  a  type  of  the  time.  There 
were,  however,  several  others  of  more  or  less  note  who  deserve  a 
short  notice.  There  is  the  historian  Domitius  Corbulo,1  who 
wrote  under  Caligula  (39  a.d.)  a  history  of  his  campaigns  in  Asia, 
and  to  whom  Pliny  refers  as  an  authority  on  topographical  and 
ethnographical  questions.  He  was  executed  by  Nero  (67  A.D.) 
and  his  wealth  confiscated  to  the  crown. 

Another  historian  is  Quintus  Curtius,  whose  date  has  been 
disputed,  some  placing  him  as  early  as  Augustus,  in  direct  con- 
tradiction to  the  evidence  of  his  style,  which  is  moulded  on  that 
of  Seneca,  and  of  his  political  ideas,  which  are  those  of  heredi- 
tary monarchy.  Others  again  place  him  as  late  as  the  time  of 
Severus,  an  opinion  to  which  Niebuhr  inclined.  But  it  is  more 
probable  that  he  lived  in  the  time  of  Claudius  and  the  early  years 
of  Nero.2  His  work  is  entitled  Historiae  Alexandri  Magni,  and 
is  drawn  from  Clitarchus,  Timagenes,  and  Ptolomaeus.  It  con- 
sisted of  ten  books,  of  which  all  but  the  first  two  have  come  down 
to  us.  He  paid  more  attention  to  style  than  matter,  showing 
neither  historical  criticism  nor  original  research,  but  putting  down 
everything  that  looked  well  in  the  relating,  even  though  he  him- 
self did  not  believe  it. 

Spain  was  at  this  time  very  rich  in  authors.  For  more  than 
half  a  century  she  gave  the  Empire  most  of  its  greatest  names. 
The  entire  epoch  has  been  called  that  of  Spanish  Latinity.  I* 
Junius  Moderatus  Columella  was  born  at  Gades,  probably3  near 

1  Tac.  An.  xv.  16. 

*  For  a  full  list  of  all  the  arguments  for  and  against  these  dates  the  reader 
is  referred  to  Teuffel,  R.  L.  §  287. 

*  The  exact  date  is  uncertain.  He  speaks  of  Seneca  as  living,  probably 
between  62  and  65  a.d.  But  he  never  mentions  Pliny,  who,  on  the  contrary, 
frequently  refers  to  him.  He  must,  therefore,  have  finished  his  work  befow 
Pliny  became  celebrated. 


COLUMELLA.  393 

the  beginning  of  our  era.  His  grandfather  was  a  man  of  sub 
stance  in  that  part  of  the  province,  and  a  most  successful  farmer; 
it  was  from  him  that  he  imbibed  that  love  of  agricultural  pursuits 
which  led  him  to  write  his  learned  and  elegant  treatise.  This 
treatise,  which  has  come  down  to  us  entire,  and  consists  of  twelve 
books,  was  intended  to  form  part  of  an  exhaustive  treatment  of  the 
subject  of  agriculture,  including  the  incidental  questions  (e.g.  those 
of  religion)1  connected  with  it.  It  was  expanded  and  improved 
frcm  a  smaller  essay,  of  which  we  still  possess  certain  fragments. 
The  work  is  written  in  a  clear,  comprehensive  way,  drawn  not  only 
from  t.hp.  Tifipt  fl-nthnritiflSj  but  from  the  author's  personal  experi- 
ence. Like  a  true  Roman  (it  is  astonishing  how  fully  these 
provincials  entered  into  the  mind  of  Eome)  he  descants  on  the 
dignity  of  the  subject,  on  the  lapse  from  old  virtue,  on  the  idle- 
ness of  men  who  will  not  labour  on  their  land  and  draw  forth  its 
riches,  and  on  the  necessity  of  taking  up  husbandry  in  a  practical 
business-like  way.  The  tenth  book,  which  treats  of  gardens,  is 
written  in  smooth  verse,  closely  imitated  from  the  Georgics.  It  is 
in  fact  intended  as  a  fifth  Georgic.  Virgil  had  said2  with  reference 
to  gardens : 

"  Yerum  haec  ipse  equidem  spatiis  exclusus  irriquis 
Praetereo,  atque  aliis  post  me  memoranda  relinquo." 

These  words  are  an  oracle  to  Columella.  "  I  should  have 
written  my  tenth  book  in  prose,"  he  says,  "had  not  your  fre- 
quent requests  that  I  would  fill  up  what  was  wanting  to  the 
Georgics  got  the  better  of  my  resolution.  Even  so,  I  should 
not  have  ventured  on  poetry  if  Virgil  had  not  indicated  that  he 
wished  it  to  be  done.  Inspired,  therefore,  by  his  divine  influence, 
I  have  approached  my  slender  theme."  The  verses  are  g-^od,  though 
their  poetical  merit  is  somewhat  on  the  level  of  a  university  prize 
poem.     They  conclude  thus : 

"  Hactenus  arvorum  cultus  Silvine  docebam 
Siderei  referens  vatis  praecepta  Maronis." 

Among  scientific  writers  we  possess  a  treatise  by  Scribonius 
Largus  (47  a.d.)  on  Compositiones  Medicae,  which  is  characterised 
by  Teuflel  as  "  not  altogether  nonsensical,  and  in  tolerable  style, 
although  tinged  with  the  general  superstition  of  the  period."  The 
critic  Q.  Asconius  Pedianus  (3-88  a.d.)  is  more  important.  He 
devoted  his  life  to  an  elaborate  exegesis  of  the  great  Latin  classics, 
more  particularly  Cicero.     His  commentary  on  the  Orations,  of 

1  Perhaps  the  treatise  Adversus  Astrologos  was  written  with  the  object  of 
recommending  the  worship  of  the  rural  deities  (xii.  1,  31).  In  one  place  (ii. 
225)  he  says  he  intends  to  treat  of  lustrationcs  ceteraque  sacrificia. 

*  G.  iv.  148. 


394  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

"which  ire  possess  considerable  fragments,1  is  written  with  sound 
sense,  and  in  a  clear  pointed  style.  Some  commentaries  on  the 
Verrine  Speeches  which  hear  his  name,  are  the  work  of  a  much 
later  hand,  though  perhaps  drawn  in  great  part  from  him.  An- 
other series  of  notes,  extending  to  a  considerable  number  of 
orations,  was  discovered  by  Mai,2  but  these  also  have  been  re- 
touched by  a  later  hand. 

An  interesting  treatise  on  primitive  geography,  manners  and 
customs  (Chronographia)  which  we  still  possess,  was  written  by 
Pomponius  Mela,  of  Tingentera  in  Spain.  Like  Curtius  he  has  obvi- 
ously imitated  Seneca;  his  account  is  too  concise,  but  he  intended 
and  perhaps  carried  out  elsewhere  a  fuller  treatment  of  the  subject. 

The  two  studies  which  despotism  had  done  so  much  to  destroy, 
oratory  and  jurisprudence,  still  found  a  few  votaries.  The  chief 
field  for  speaking  was  the  senate,  where  men  like  Crispus,  Eprius 
Marcellus,  and  Suillius  the  accuser  of  Seneca,  exercised  their 
genius  in  adroit  flattery.  Thrasea,  Helvidius,  and  the  opposition, 
were  compelled  to  study  repression  rather  than  fulness.  As  jurists 
we  hear  of  few  eminent  names :  Proculus  and  Cassius  Longinus 
are  the  most  prominent. 

Grammar  wras  successfully  cultivated  by  Valerius  Probus,  who 
undertook  the  critical  revision  of  the  texts  of  the  Latin  classics, 
much  as  the  Alexandrine  grammarians  had  done  for  those  of 
Greece.  He  was  originally  destined  for  public  life,  but  through 
want  of  success  betook  himself  to  study.  After  his  arrival  at 
Rome  he  gave  public  lectures  on  philology,  which  were  numerously 
attended,  and  he  seems  to  have  retained  the  affection  of  all  his 
pupils.  His  oral  notes  were  afterwards  edited  in  an  epistolary 
form.  The  work  De  Notts  Antiquis,  or  at  least  a  portion  of  it, 
De  Iuris  Not  is,  has  come  down  to  us  in  a  slightly  abridged  form ; 
also  a  short  treatise  called  Cathotica,  treating  of  the  noun  and 
verb,  though  it  is  uncertain  whether  this  is  authentic.3  Another 
\v  ">rk  on  grammar  is  attributed  to  him,  but  as  it  is  evidently  at 
least  three  centuries  later  than  this  date,  several  critics  have  sup 
po83d  it  to  be  by  a  second  Probus,  also  a  grammarian,  who  lived 
at  that  period. 

We  shall  conclude  the  chapter  with  a  notice  of  an  extraordinary 
book,  the  Satires,  which  pass  under  the  name  of  Petroniu& 
Arbiter.  Who  he  was  is  not  certainly  known ;  but  there  was  a 
Petronius  in  the  time  of  Nero,  whose  death  (66  A.D.),  is  recorded 

1  On  the^ro  Milonc,  pro  Scauro,  pro  Cornelio,  in  Pisonem,  in  toga  Candida, 

*  Scholia  Bobbicnsia. 

*  It  is  identical  with  the  second  book  of  Sacerdos,  who  lived  at  the  close 
of  the  third  century. 


PETRONIUS.  395 

by  Tacitus,1  and  who  is  generally  identified  with  him.  This 
account  has  often  been  quoted;  nevertheless  we  may  insert  it 
here  :  "  His  days  were  passed  in  sleep,  his  nights  in  business  and 
enjoyment.  As  others  rise  to  fame  by  industry,  so  he  by  idleness ; 
and  he  gained  the  reputation,  not  like  most  spendthrifts  of  a 
profligate  or  glutton,  but  of  a  cultured  epicure.  His  words  and 
deeds  were  welcomed  as  models  of  graceful  simplicity  in  proportion 
as  they  were  morally  lax  and  ostentatiously  indifferent  to  appear- 
ances. While  proconsul,  however,  in  Bithynia  he  showed  himself 
vigorous  and  equal  to  affairs.  Then  turning  to  vice,  or  perhaps 
simulating  it,  he  became  a  chosen  intimate  of  Nero,  and  his  prime 
authority  (arbiter)  in  all  matters  of  taste,  so  that  he  thought 
nothing  delicate  or  charming  except  what  Petronius  had  approved. 
This  raised  the  envy  of  Tigellinus,  who  regarded  him  as  a  rival 
purveyor  of  pleasure  preferred  to  himself.  Consequently  he  traded 
on  the  cruelty  of  Nero,  a  vice  to  which  all  others  gave  place,  by 
accusing  Petronius  of  being  a  friend  to  Scaevinus,  having  bribed  a 
slave  to  give  the  information,  and  removed  the  means  of  defence 
by  hurrying  almost  all  Petronius's  slaves  into  prison.  Caesar  was 
then  in  Campania,  and  Petronius,  who  had  gone  to  Cumae,  was 
arrested  there.  He  determined  not  to  endure  the  suspense  of  hope 
and  fear.  But  he  did  not  hurry  out  of  life ;  he  opened  his  veins 
gently,  and  binding  them  up  from  time  to  time,  chatted  with  his 
friends,  not  on  serious  topics  or  such  as  might  procure  him  the  fame 
of  constancy,  nor  did  he  listen  to  any  conversation  on  immortality 
or  the  doctrines  of  philosophers,  but  only  to  light  verses  on  easy 
themes.  Pie  pensioned  some  of  his  slaves,  cnastised  others.  He 
feasted  and  lay  down  to  rest,  that  his  compulsory  death  might 
seem  a  natural  one.  In  his  will  he  did  not,  like  most  of  the 
condemned,  flatter  Nero,  or  Tigellinus,  or  any  of  the  powerful,  but 
satirized  the  emperor's  vices  under  the  names  of  effeminate  youths 
and  women,  giving  a  description  of  each  new  kind  of  debauchery. 
These  he  sealed  and  sent  to  Nero."  Many  have  thought  that  in 
the  Satires  we  possess  the  very  writing  to  which  Tacitus  refers. 
But  to  this  it  is  a  sufficient  answer  that  they  consisted  of  six- 
teen books,  far  too  many  to  have  been  written  in  two  days.  They 
must  have  been  prepared  before,  and  perhaps  the  most  caustic 
of  them  were  selected  for  the  emperor's  perusal.  The  fragment 
that  remains  is  from  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  books,  and  is  a 
mixture  of  verse  and  prose  in  excellent  Latinity,  but  deplorably 
and  offensively  obscene.  Nothing  can  give  a  meaner  idea  of  the 
social  culture  of  Koine  than  this  production  of  one  of  her  most 

1  Ann.  xvi.  18. 


996  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

accompli  shed  masters  of  self-indulgence.  As,  however,  it  is  in> 
portant  from  a  literary,  and  still  more  from  an  antiquarian  point 
of  view,  we  add  a  short  analysis  of  its  contents. 

The  hero  is  one  Encolpius,  who  begins  by  bewailing  to  a  rhetoi 
named  Agamemnon  the  decline  of  native  eloquence,  which  hia 
friend  admits,  and  ascribes  to  the  general  laxity  of  education. 
While  the  question  is  under  discussion  Encolpius  is  interrupted 
anil  carried  off  through  a  variety  of  adventures,  of  which  suffice  it 
to  say  that  they  are  best  left  in  obscurity,  being  neither  humorous 
nor  moral.  Another  day,  he  is  invited  to  dine  with  the  rich 
freedman  Trimalchio,  under  whom,  doubtless,  some  court  favourite 
of  Nero  is  shadowed  forth.  The  banquet  and  conversation  are 
described  with  great  vividness.  After  some  preliminary  compli- 
ments, the  host,  eager  to  display  his  learning,  turns  the  discourse 
upon  philology  ;  but  he  is  suddenly  called  away,  and  topics  of  more 
general  interest  are  introduced,  the  guests  giving  their  opinions 
on  each  in  a  sufficiently  interesting  way.  The  remarks  of  one 
Ganymedes  on  the  sufferings  of  the  lower  classes,  the  insufficiency 
of  food,  and  the  lack  of  healthy  industries,  are  pathetic  and  true. 
Meanwhile,  Trimalchio  returns,  orders  a  boar  to  be  killed  and 
cooked,  and  while  this  is  in  preparation  entertains  his  friends  with 
discussions  on  rhetoric,  medicine,  history,  art,  &c.  The  scene 
becomes  animated  as  the  wine  flows ;  various  ludicrous  incidents 
ensue,  which  are  greeted  with  extemporaneous  epigrams  in  verse, 
some  rather  amusing,  others  flat  and  diffuse.  The  conversation 
thus  turns  to  the  subject  of  poetry.  Cicero  and  Syrus  are  com- 
pared with  some  ability  of  illustration.  Jests  are  freely  bandied ; 
ghost  stories  are  proposed,  and  two  marvellous  fables  related,  one 
on  the  power  of  owls  to  predict  events,  the  other  on  a  soldier  who 
was  changed  into  a  wolf.  The  supernatural  is  then  about  to  be 
discussed,  when  a  gentleman  named  Habinnas  and  his  portly  wife 
Scintilla  come  in.  This  lady  exhibits  her  jewels  with  much  com- 
placency, and  Trimalchio's  wife  Fortunata,  roused  to  competition, 
does  the  same.  Trimalchio  has  now  arrived  at  that  stage  of  the 
evening's  entertainment  when  mournful  views  of  life  begin  to 
present  themselves.  He  calls  for  the  necessary  documents,  and 
forthwith  proceeds  to  make  his  will.  His  kind  provision  for  hi? 
relatives  and  dependants,  combined  with  his  after-dinner  pathos, 
bring  out  the  softer  side  of  the  company's  feelings ;  every  one 
weeps,  and  for  a  time  festivities  are  suspended.  The  terrible 
insecurity  of  life  under  Nero  is  here  pointedly  hinted  at. 

The  will  read,  Trimalchio  takes  a  bath,  and  soon  returns  in 
excellent  spirits,  ready  to  dine  again.  At  this  his  good  lady  takes 
umbrage,  and  something  very  like  a  quarrel  ensues,  on  which 


PETRONIUS.  397 

Trimalchio  bids  the  musicians  strike  up  a  dead  march.    The  tumuli 
with  which  this  is  greeted  is  too  much  for  many  of  the  guests. 
Encolpius,  the  narrator,  leaves  the  room,  and  the  party  breaks  up. 
Encolpius  on  leaving  Trimalchio's  meets  a  poet,  Eumolpus,  whc 
complains  bitterly  of  poverty  and  neglect.     A  debate  ensues  on 
the  causes  of  the  decline  in  painting  and  the  arts ;  it  is  attributed 
to  the  love  of  money.     A  picture  representing  the  sack  of  Troy 
gives  occasion  for  a  mock-tragic  poem  of  some  length,  doubtless 
aimed  at  Nero's  effusions.     The  poet  is  pelted  as  a  bore,  and  has 
to  decamp  in  haste.     But  he  is  incorrigible.     He  returns,  and  this 
time  brings  a  still  longer  and  more  pretentious  poem.     Some 
applaud;    others   disapprove.     Encolpius,   seized   with  a   fit   of 
melancholy,  thinks  of  hanging  himself,  but  is  persuaded  to  live 
by  the  artless  caresses  of  a  fair  boy  whom  he  has  loved.     Several 
adventures  of  a  similar  kind  follow,  and  the  book,  which  towards 
the  end  becomes  very  fragmentary,  ends  without  any  regular  con- 
clusion.    Enough  has  been  given  to  show  its  general  character. 
It  is  something  between  a  Menippean  satire  and  a  Milesian  fable, 
such  as  had  been  translated  from  the  Greek  long  before  by  Sisenna, 
and  were  to  be  so  successfully  imitated  in  a  later  age  by  Apuleius. 
The  narrative  goes  on  from  incident  to  incident  without  any  par- 
ticular connexion,  and  allows  all  kinds  of  digressions.     Poetical 
insertions  are  very  frequent,  some  original,  others  quoted,  many  of 
considerable  elegance.     From  its  central  and  by  many  degrees  most 
entertaining  incident  the  whole  satire  has  been  called  The  Supper 
of  Trimalchio.     We  have  a  few  short  passages  remaining  from  the 
lost  books,  and  some  allusions  in  these  we  possess  enable  us  to 
reconstruct  to  some  extent  their  argument.     It  does  not  seem  to 
have  contained  anything  specially  attractive.     If  onlj  the  book 
were  less  offensive,  its  varied  literary  scope  and  polished  conversa- 
tional style  would  make  it  truly  interesting.     As  it  is,  the  student 
of  ancient  manners  finds  it  a  mine  of  important  and  out-of-the-way 
information. 


APPEKDIX. 

Note  I. —  The  TestamerUum  PorcelU. 


Connected  with  the  Milesian  fables  j  it,  says  (contra  Rufinnm,  i.  17,  p. 
were  the  Testamentum  Porcelli,  ;  473)  "Quasi  non  cirratorum  tnrba 
short  jeax  cCesprit,  generally  in  the  j  Milcsiarum  in  scholis  figmaita  de~ 
form  of  comic  anecdotes,  as  a  vule  i  cantct  et  testament um  mis  Bcssamm 
licentious,  but  sometimes  harmless,  {  cachinno  membra  concutiat,  atgiu 
and  intended  for  children.  A  speci-  I  inter  scurrarum  cjndas  nugae  isliti* 
men  of  the  unobjectionable  sort  is.  j  vwdi  freqitententur. 
here  given.     St  Jerome,  who  quotes 


398 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


"  Testamentum  Porcelli. 

'*  Incipit  testamentum  porcelli. 

'*  M.  Grunnius  Corocotta  porcellus 
testamentum  fecit  ;  quoniam  manu 
mea  scribere  non  potui,  scribendum 
dictavi.  Magirus  cocus  dixit  '  veni 
hue,  eversor  domi,  solivertiator,  fugi- 
tive porcelle,  et  liodie  tibi  dirimo 
vitam.'  Corocotta  porcellus  dixit 
'  si  qua  feci,  si  qua  peccavi,  si  qua 
vascella  pedibus  meis  confregi,  rogo, 
domine  coce,  vitam  peto,  concede 
roganti/  Magirus  cocus  dixit  'transi, 
puer  affer  mihi  de  cocina  cultrum,  ut 
nunc  porcellum  faciam  cruentum.' 
Porcellus  comprehenditur  a  famulis, 
ductus  sub  die  xvi.  kal.  lucerninas, 
nbi  abundant  cymae,  Clibanato  et 
Piperato  consulibus,  et  ut  vidit  so 
moriturum  esse,  horae  spatium  petiit 
et  cocum  rogavit  ut  testamentum 
facere  posset,  clamavit  ad  se  suos 
parentes,  ut  de  cibariis  suis  aliquid 
dimitteret  eis.    Quid  ait: 

"  '  Patri  meo  Verrino  Lardino  do 
lego  dari  glandis  modios  xxx.  et 
matri  meae  Veturinae  Scrofae  do 
lego  dari  Laconicae  siliginis  modios 
xl.  et  sorori  meae  Quiriuae,  in  cuius 
votum  interesse  non  potui,  do  lego 
dari  hordei  modios  xxx.  et  de  meis 
visceribus  dabo  donabo  sutorihus 
saetas,  rixoribus  capitinas,  surdis 
auriculas,  causidicis  et  verbosis 
linguam,  bubulariis  intestina,  isici- 
ariis  femora,  mulieribus  lumbulos, 
pueris  vesicam,  puellis  caudam,  cin- 
aedis  musculos,  cursoribus  et  vena- 
toribus  talos,  latronibus  ungulas,  et 
nee  nominando  coco  legato  dimitto 
popiam  et  pistillum,  quae  mecum 
attuleram :  de  Tebeste  usque  ad  Ter- 
geste  liget  sibi  collo  de  reste,  et 
volo  mihi  fieri  monumentum  aureis 
litteria    scriptum : '    M.     Grunnius 


Corocotta  porcellus  vixit  annia 
DCCCC-XC-VII1I-S.  quod  si  semis- 
sem  vixisset,  mille  annos  implesset, 
'optimi  amatores  mei  vel  consules 
vitae,  rogo  vos  ut  cum  corpore  ri;eo 
bene  faciatis,  bene  condiatis  de  bonis 
condimentis  nuclei,  piperis  et  mellis, 
ut  nomen  meum  in  sempiternum 
nominetur,  mei  domini  vel  conso- 
brini  mei,  qui  in  medio  testamento 
interfuistis,  iubete  sign  an.' 

"  Lardio  signavit,  Ofellicus  sig- 
navit,  Cyminatus  signavit,  Tergillus 
signavit,  Celsinus  signavit,  Nuptiali- 
sus  signavit. 

11  Explicit  testamentum  porcelli 
sub  die  xvi.  kal.  lucerninas  Clibanato 
et  Piperato  consulibus  feliciter." 

Such  ridiculous  compositions  were 
extremely  popular  in  court  circles 
during  the  corrupter  periods  of  the 
Empire.  Suetonius  (Tib.  42)  tells  ua 
that  Tiberius  gave  one  Aselliua 
Sabinus  £1400  for  a  dialogue  in 
which  the  mushroom,  the  becca- 
ficoe,  the  oyster,  and  the  thrush 
advanced  their  respective  claims  to 
be  considered  the  prince  of  delicacies. 
To  this  age  also  belong  the  collec- 
tion of  epigrams  on  Piiapus  called 
Priapea,  and  including  many  poems 
attributed  to  Virgil,  Tibullus,  and 
Ovid.  They  are  mostly  of  an  obscene 
character,  but  some  few,  especially 
those  by  Tibullus  and  Catullus  which 
close  the  series,  are  simple  and  pretty. 
It  is  almost  inconceivable  to  us  how 
so  disgusting  a  cultus  could  have 
been  joined  with  innocence  of  life ; 
but  as  Priapus  long  maintained  his 
place  as  a  rustic  deity  we  must  sup- 
pose that  the  hideous  literalism  of 
his  surroundings  must  have  been  got 
over  by  ingenious  allegorising,  or  for- 
gotten by  rustic  veneration. 


Note  2.— On,  the  MS.  of  Petronius. 

From  Thomson's  Essay  on  the  Post- Augustan  Latin  Poets,  from  the 
Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana  {Roman  Literature). 

Fragments  of  Petronius  had  been  the  year  1662,  Petrus  Petitns,  or  as  he 

printed  by  Bernardinus  de  Vitalibus  styled  himself,  Marinus  Statilius,  a 

at  Venice  in  1499,  and  by  Jacobus  literary  Dalmatian,  discovered  at  Traw 

Thanner  at  Leipsig  in  1500 ;  but  in  a  MS.  containing  a  much  more  coa- 


MS.  OF  PETRONIUS. 


399 


tiderable  fragment,  which  was  after- 
wards published  at  Padua  and  Am- 
sterdam, and  ultimately  purchased  at 
Koine  for  the  library  of  the  King  of 
France  in  the  year  1703.  The  eminent 
Mr  J.  B.  Gail,  one  of  the  curators  of 
this  library,  politely  allowed  M. 
Gueranl,  a  young  gentleman  of 
considerable  learning  employed  in 
the  MS.  department,  to  afford  us 
the  following  circumstantial  infor- 
mation respecting  this  valuable 
codex,  classed  in  the  library  as 
7989:— "  It  is  a  small  folio  two 
fingers  thick,  written  on  very  sub- 
stantial paper,  and  in  a  very 
legible  hand.  The  titles  are  in  Ver- 
million ;  the  beginnings  of  the  chap- 
ters, &c.  are  also  in  vermillion  or 
blue.  It  contains  the  poems  of  Ti- 
bullus,  Propertius  find  Catullus,  as 
we  have  them  iu  the  ordinary  printed 
editions  ;  then  appears  the  date 
of  the  20th  Nov.  1423.  After 
these  comes  the  letter  of  Sappho, 
and  then  the  work  of  Petronius. 
The  extracts  are  entitled  'Petronii 
Arbitri  satyri  fragmenta  et  libro 
quin to  decimo  et  sexto  decimo,'  and 
begin  thus:  'cum  (not  'num/  as 
in  the  printed  copies)  in  alio  genere 
furiarum  declamatores  inquietantur,' 
&c.  After  these  fragments,  which 
occupy  twenty-one  pages  of  the 
MS.  we  have  a  piece  without 
title  or  mention  of  its  author, 
which  is  The  Slipper  of  Trimalcio. 
it  be^iua  thus:  'Vouerat  i&ra  tot- 


tius  dies,"  and  ends  with  the  words, 
'tarn  plane  quam  ex  inccndio  fugi- 
mus.'  This  piece  is  complete  by  it- 
self, and  does  not  recur  in  the  other 
extracts.  Then  follows  the  Moretum, 
attributed  to  Virgil,  and  afterwards 
the  Phoenix  of  Claudian.  The  latter 
piece  is  in  the  character  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  while  the  rest 
of  the  MS.  is  in  that  of  the  fifteenth." 
The  publication  of  this  fragment  ex- 
cited a  great  sensation  among  the 
learned,  to  great  numbers  of  whom 
the  original  was  submitted,  and  by 
far  the  majority  of  the  judges  de- 
cided in  favour  of  its  antiquity. 
Strong  as  was  this  external  evidence, 
the  internal  is  yet  more  valuable; 
since  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  con- 
ceive a  forgery  of  this  length,  which 
would  not  in  some  point  or  other 
betray  itself.  The  difficulty  of  forg- 
ing a  work  like  the  Satyricon  will 
better  appear,  when  it  is  considered 
that  such  attempts  have  been  actu- 
ally made.  A  Frenchman,  named 
Nodot,  pretended  that  the  entire 
work  of  Petronius  had  been  found  at 
Belgrade  in  the  siege  of  that  town  in 
1688.  The  forged  MS.  was  pub- 
lished ;  but  the  contempt  it  excited 
was  no  less  universal  than  the  con- 
sideration which  was  shown  to  the 
MS.  of  Statilius.  Another  French- 
man, Lallemand,  printed  a  pretended 
fragment,  with  notes  and  a  transla- 
tion, in  1800,  but  to  one  was  de- 
ceived by  it 


CHAPTER  V. 

Ihb  Reigns  op  the  Flavian  Emperors  (a.d.  69-96). 

1.  Prose  Writers. 

With  the  extinction  of  the  Claudian  dynasty  we  enter  on  a  ne* 
literary  epoch.  The  reigns  of  Vespasian,  Titus,  and  Domitian  pro- 
duced a  series  of  writers  who  all  show  the  same  characteristics, 
though  necessarily  modified  hy  the  tyranny  of  Domitian 's  reign 
as  contrasted  with  the  clemency  of  those  of  his  two  predecessors. 
Under  Vespasian  and  Titus  authors  might  say  what  they  chose ; 
both  these  princes  disdained  to  curb  freedom  of  speech  or  to 
punish  it  even  when  it  clamoured  for  martyrdom.  Yet  such  was 
the  reaction  from  the  excitement  of  the  last  epoch,  that  no  writer 
of  genius  appeared,  and  only  one  of  the  first  eminence  in  learning. 
There  now  comes  into  Roman  literature  an  unmistakable  evidence 
of  reduced  talent  as  well  as  of  decayed  taste.  Hitherto  power  at 
least  has  not  been  wanting ;  but  for  the  future  all  is  on  a  weaker 
scale.  Only  the  two  great  names  of  Juvenal  and  Tacitus  redeem 
the  ninth  century  of  Eome  from  total  want  of  creative  genius. 
All  other  writers  move  in  established  grooves,  and,  as  a  rule, 
imitate  or  feebly  rival  some  of  the  giants  of  the  past.  Learning 
was  still  cultivated  with  assiduity  if  not  with  enthusiasm ;  but 
the  grand  hopeful  spirit,  sure  of  discovering  truth,  which  animates 
the  erudition  of  a  better  age,  has  now  given  place  to  a  querulous 
depreciation  even  of  the  labour  to  which  the  authors  have  devoted 
their  lives.  This  is  conspicuous  from  the  first  in  the  otherwise 
noble  pages  of  the  elder  Pliny,  and  is  the  seciet  of  that  want  of 
critical  insight  which,  in  a  mind  so  capaciously  stored,  strikes  us 
at  first  as  inexplicable. 

This  laborious  and  interesting  writer  was  born  at  Como1  in 
the  year  23  a.d.  He  came,  it  is  not  known  exactly  when,  to 
Eome  and  studied  under  the  rhetorical  grammarian  A  pi  on,  whom 

1  Suetonius  calls  him  Kovocomensis.  He  himself  speaks  of  Catullus  as 
his  own  conterraiuus,  from  which  it  has  been  inferred  by  some  that  he  wat 
born  at  Versi^  (N.  H.  Praef. ).     His  full  name  is  C.  Plinius  Secundus. 


PLINY    THE   ELDER.  401 

Tiberias  in  mockery  of  his  sounding  periods  had  called  "the  drum  " 
(tympanum).  Till  his  forty-sixth  year  Pliny's  genius  remained 
unknown.  An  allusion  in  his  work  to  Lollia  Paulina  has  given 
rise  to  the  opinion  that  he  was  admitted  to  the  court  of  Caligula, 
but  the  grounds  for  this  conclusion  are  manifestly  insufficient. 
His  nephew  states  that  he  composed  his  treatise  On  Doubtful 
Words1  to  escape  the  jealousy  of  Nero,  who  suspected  him  of  less 
unambi tious  pursuits.  But  the  evidence  of  the  younger  Pliny  serves 
better  to  establish  facts  than  motives ;  he  is  always  anxious  to  swell 
the  importance  of  his  friends  ;  and  it  is  far  more  likely  from  Pliny's 
own  silence  that  he  remained  in  comparative  obscurity  until  Nero's 
death.  At  the  age  of  twenty-two  he  served  his  first  campaign  in 
Africa,  and  soon  after  in  Germany  under  Lucius  Pomponius,  who 
gave  him  a  cavalry  troop,  and  seems  to  have  befriended  him  in 
various  other  ways.  His  promotion  was  perhaps  due  to  the 
treatise  On  Javelin-throicing2  which  he  wrote  about  this  time.  He 
showed  his  gratitude  towards  Pomponius  at  a  later ,  date  by 
writing  his  life. 

Pliny  had  always  felt  a  strong  interest  in  science,  and  deter- 
mined as  soon  as  opportunity  offered  to  make  its  advancement  the 
object  of  his  life.  With  this  end  in  view  he  made  careful  observa- 
tions of  all  the  countries  he  visited,  and  used  his  military  position 
to  secure  information  that  otherwise  might  have  been  hard  to 
obtain.  He  inspected  the  source  of  the  Danube  and  travelled 
among  the  Chauci  on  the  shores  of  the  German  Ocean.  He 
visited  the  mouths  of  the  Eber  and  Weser,  the  North  Sea  and  the 
Cimbrian  Chersonese,  and  spent  some  time  among  the  Roman 
provinces  west  of  the  Rhine.  While  in  Germany  he  had  a 
vision  in  which  he  saw  or  thought  he  saw  the  shade  of  Brusus, 
which  appeared  to  him  by  night  and  bade  him  tell  the  history  of 
all  the  German  wars.  Accordingly,  he  collected  materials  with 
industry,  and  worked  them  up  into  a  large  volume,  which  is  now 
unfortunately  lost.  At  twenty-nine  he  left  the  army  and  returned 
to  Rome,  where  he  studied  for  the  bar.  But  his  talents  were  not 
suitable  for  forensic  display,  and  he  found  a  more  lucrative  field 
in  teaching  grammar  and  rhetoric.  At  what  time  he  was  sent 
out  as  procurator  to  Spain  is  uncertain,  but  when  he  returned  he 
found  Vespasian  on  the  throne.  Pliny,  who  had  known  him  in 
Germany,  and  had  been  on  intimate  terms  with  his  son  Titus, 
was  now  received  with  the  greatest  favour.  Every  morning  before 
day-break,  when  the  busy  Emperor  rose  to  finish  his  correspond- 
ence before  the  work  of  the  day  began,  he  called  Pliny  to  his  side, 

1  Dubii  Scrmonis,  sometimes  named  De  Difiicilibus  Linguae  Latinac. 
1  De  Iaculationc  Equcstri. 

2  c 


402  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  the  two  friends  chatted  awhile  together  in  the  plain,  homelj 
fashion  that  Vespasian  much  preferred  to  the  measured  style  ol 
court  etiquette.'  Nor  was  his  favour  confined  to  familiar  inter- 
course. He  made  him  admiral  of  the  fleet  stationed  at  Misenum 
and  .charged  with  guarding  the  Mediterranean  ports.  It  was  while 
here  that  news  was  brought  him  of  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius, 
He  sailed  to  Eesina  determined  to  investigate  the  phenomenon, 
and,  as  his  nephew  in  a  well-known  letter  tells  us,  paid  the  price 
of  his  scientific  curiosity  with  his  life.  The  letter  is  so  charm- 
ing, and  affords  so  good  an  example  of  Pliny  the  younger's  style, 
that  we  may  be  excused  for  inserting  it  here.1 

"  He  was  at  Misenum  in  command  of  the  fleet.     On  the  24th  August 
(79  A.D.),  about  1  p.m.,  my  mother  pointed  out  to  him  a  cloud  of  unusual 
size  and  shape.     He  had  then  sunned  himself,  had  his  cold  bath,  tasted 
some  food,  and  was  lying  down  reading.     He  at  once  asked  for  his  shoes, 
and  mounted  a  height  from  which  the  best  view  might  be  obtained.     The 
cloud  was  rising  from  a  mountain  afterwards  ascertained  to  have  been 
Vesuvius  ;  its  form  was  more  like  a  pine  tree  than  anything  else.     It  was 
raised  into  the  air  by  what  seemed  its  trunk,  and  then  branched  out  in 
different  directions  ;  the  reason  probably  was  that  the  blast,  at  first  irresis- 
tible, but  afterwards  losing  strength  or  unable  to  counteract  gravity,  spent 
itself  by  spreading  out  on  either  side.     The  cloud  was  either  bright,  or  dark 
and  spotty,  according  as  earth  or  ashes  were  thrown  up.     As  a  man  of 
science  he  determined  to  inspect  the  phenomenon  more  closely.    He  ordered 
a  light  vessel  to  be  prepared,  and  offered  to  take  me  with  him.     I  replied  that 
I  would  rather  study  ;  as  it  happened,  he  himself  had  set  me  something  to 
write.      He  was  just  starting   when  a  letter  was  brought  from  Recti na 
imploring  aid  for   Nascus  who   was  in   imminent  danger ;   his   villa  lay- 
below,  and  no  escape  was  possible  except  by  sea.     He  now  changed  his 
plan,  and  what  he  had  begun  from  scientific  enthusiasm  he  carried  out 
with  self-sacrificing  courage.      He  launched   some  quadriremes,  and  em- 
barked with  the  intention  of  succouring  not  only  Rectina  but  others  who 
lived  on  that  populous  and  picturesque  coast.     Thus  he  hurried  to  the 
spot  from  which  all  others  were  flying,  and  steered  straight  for  the  danger, 
so  absolutely  devoid  of  fear  that  he  dictated  an  account  with  full  comments 
of  all  the  movements  and  changing  shapes  of  the  phenomenon,  each  as  it 
presented  itself.     Ashes  were  now  falling  on  the  decks,  and  became  hotter 
and  denser  as  the  vessel  approached.      Scorched  and  blackened  pumice- 
stones  and  bits  of  rock  split  by  fire  were  mingled  with  them.     The  sea 
suddenly  became  shallow,  and  fragments  from  the  mountain  filled  the  coast 
seeming  to  bar  all  further  progress.     He  hesitated  whether  to  return  ;  but 
on  tb.3  master  strongly  advising  it,  he  cried,   '  Fortune  favours  the  brave  : 
make  for  Pomponianus's  house.'     This  was  at  Stabiae,  and  was  cut  off  from 
the  coast  near  Vesuvius  by  an  inlet,  which  had  been  gradually  scooped  out 
by  encroachments  of  the  sea.     The  owner  was  in  sight,  intending,  should 
the  danger  (which  was  visible,  but  not  immediate)  approach  so  near  as  to  be 
urgent,  to  escape  by  ship.     For  this  purpose  he  had  embarked  all  his  effects 
and   was   waiting  for  a  change  of  wind.      My  uncle,   whom  tho  breeze 
favoured,  soon  reached  him,  and,  embracing  hirn  with  much  affection,  tried 

1  Fp.  vi.  16. 


PLINY  THE  ELDER.  403 

to  console  his  fears.  To  show  his  own  unconcern  he  caused  himself  to  be 
carried  to  a  bath;  and  having  washed,  sat  down  to  dinner  with  cheerfulness 
or  (what  is  equally  creditable  to  him)  with  the  appearance  of  it.  Meanwhile 
from  many  parts  of  the  mountain  broad  flames  burst  forth  ;  the  blaze  shone 
back  from  the  sky,  and  a  dark  night  enhanced  the  lurid  glare.  To  soothe 
his  friend's  terror  he  declared  that  what  they  saw  wns  only  the  desevtid 
Tillages  which  the  inhabitants  in  their  flight  had  set  on  fire.  Then  he 
retired  to  rest,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  slept,  since  the  sound  of 
his  breathing  (which  a  broad  chest  made  deep  and  resonant),  was  clearly 
heard  by  those  watching  at  the  door.  Soon  the  court  which  led  to  the 
chamber  wai  so  choked  with  cinders  and  stones  that  longer  delay  would 
have  made  escape  impossible.  He  was  aroused  from  sleep,  and  went  to 
Pomponianus  and  the  rest  who  had  sat  up  all  night.  They  debated  whether 
to  stay  indoors  or  to  wander  about  in  the  open.  For  on  the  one  hand  constant 
shocks  of  earthquake  made  the  houses  rock  to  and  fro,  and  loosened  their 
foundations  ;  while  on  the  other,  the  open  air  was  rendered  dangerous  by  the 
fall  of  pumice-stones,  though  these  were  light  and  very  porous.  On  the  whole 
they  preferred  the  open  air,  but  what  to  the  rest  had  been  a  weighing  of 
fears  had  to  him  been  a  balancing  of  reasons.  They  tied  cushions  over  their 
heads  to  guard  them  from  the  falling  stones.  Though  it  was  now  day  elsewhere 
it  was  here  darker  than  the  darkest  night,  though  the  gloom  was  broken  by 
torches  and  other  lights.  They  next  walked  to  the  sea  to  try  whether  it 
would  admit  of  vessels  being  launched,  but  it  was  still  a  waste  of  raging 
waters.  He  then  spread  a  linen  cloth,  and,  reclining  on  it,  asked  several 
times  for  water,  which  he  drank  ;  soon,  however,  the  flames  and  that  sul- 
phurous vapour  which  preceded  them  put  his  companions  to  flight  and  com- 
pelled him  to  arise.  He  rose  by  the  help  of  two  slaves,  but  immediately 
fell  down  dead.  His  death  no  doubt  arose  from  suffocation  by  the  dense 
vapour,  as  well  as  from  an  obstruction  of  his  stomach,  a  part  which  had  been 
always  weak  and  liable  to  inflammation  and  other  discomforts.  When  day- 
light returned,  i.e.  after  three  days,  his  body  was  found  entire,  just  as 
it  was,  covered  with  the  clothes  in  which  he  had  died  ;  his  appearance 
was  that  of  sleep  rather  than  of  death." 

This  interesting  letter,  which  was  sent  to  Tacitus  for  inser- 
tion in  his  history,  gives  a  fine  description  of  the  eruption. 
Another,  still  more  graphic,  is  given  in  a  later  letter  of  the  same 
book.1  A  third2  informs  us  of  the  extraordinary  studiousness 
and  economy  oi  time  practised  by  the  philosopher,  which  enabled 
him  in  a  life  by  no  means  long  to  combine  a  very  active  business 
career  with  an  amount  of  reading  and  writing  only  second  to  that 
of  Varro.  Pliny's  admiration  for  his  uncle's  unwearied  diligence 
makes  him  delight  to  dwell  on  these  particulars  : 

"After  the  Vulcanalia  (the  23d of  August)  he  always  began  work  at  dead 
of  ni^ht,  in  winter  at  1  a.m.,  never  later  than  2  a.m.,  often  at  midnight 
He  was  most  sparing  of  sleep  ;  at  times  it  would  catch  him  unawares  while 
studying.  After  his  interview  with  Vespasian  was  over,  he  went  to  busU 
ness,  then  to  study  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  After  a  light  meal,  which  like 
our  ancestors  he  ate  b)  day,  he  would  in  summer,  if  he  had  any  leisure,  lis 
in  the  sun,  while  some  one  read  to  him  and  he  made  notes  or  extracts. 


1  Plin.  vi.  20.  s  lb.  iii.  5. 


404  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

He  never  read  without  making  extracts;  no  book,  he  said,  was  so  had  hut  that 
something  might  be  gained  from  it.  After  sunning  himself  he  would  take  a 
cold  bath,  then  a  little  food,  then  a  short  nap.  Then,  as  if  it  were  a  new 
day,  he  studied  till  supper.  During  this  meal  a  book  was  read,  he  all  the 
while  making  notes.  I  remember  once,  when  the  reader  mispronounced  a 
word,  that  one  of  our  friends  compelled  him  to  repeat  it.  My  uncle  asked 
him  if  he  had  not  understood  the  word.  On  his  replying,  yes,  my  uncle 
said  sharply,  '  Then  why  did  you  interrupt  him  ?  we  have  lost  more  than  ten 
lines  ; '  so  frugal  was  he  of  his  time.  He  rose  from  supper  before  dark  in 
summer,  before  7  p.m.  in  winter;  and  this  habit  was  law  to  him.  Such  was  his 
life  in  town  ;  but  in  the  country  his  one  and  only  interruption  from  study 
was  the  hath.  I  mean  the  actual  bathing ;  for  while  he  was  being  rubbed  he 
always  either  dictated,  or  listened  to  reading.  On  a  journey,  having  noth- 
ing else  to  do,  he  gave  himself  wholly  to  study  ;  at  his  side  was  an  amanu- 
ensis, who  in  winter  wore  gloves,  that  his  master's  work  might  not  be  in- 
terrupted by  the  cold.  Even  in  Rome  he  always  travelled  in  a  sedan.  I 
temember  his  chiding  me  for  taking  a  walk,  saying,  "  you  might  have  saved 
those  hours" — for  every  moment  not  given  to  study  he  thought  lost  time. 
By  this  application  he  contrived  to  compose  that  vast  array  of  volumes 
which  we  possess,  besides  bequeathing  to  me  1G0  rolls  of  selected  notes, 
each  roll  written  on  both  sides  and  in  the  smallest  possible  hand,  which 
practically  doubles  their  number.  To  call  myself  studious  with  his  example 
before  me  is  absurd  ;  compared  with  him,  I  am  an  idle  vagabond." 

In  the  earlier  part  of  this  letter,  Pliny  gives  a  list  of  his  uncled 
works.  Besides  those  mentioned  in  the  text,  we  find  a  treatise 
on  eloquence  called  Studiosus,  and  a  continuation  of  the  history 
of  Auiidius  Bassus  in  thirty  books,  dedicated  to  the  emperor 
Titus.  The  Natural  History,  in  thirty-seven  books,  is  the  sole 
monument  of  Pliny's  industry  that  has  descended  to  us.  The 
fortunes  of  this  portentous  work  have  greatly  varied ;  while  in 
the  Middle  Ages  it  was  reverenced  as  a  kind  of  encyclopaedia  of 
all  secular  knowledge,  in  our  own  day,  except  to  antiquarians,  it 
is  an  unknown  book.  Many  who  know  Virgil  almost  by  heart 
have  never  read  through  its  tiresome  and  conceited  preface.  Yet 
there  is  an  immensity  of  interesting  matter  discussed  in  the  work. 
Independently  of  its  vast  learning,  for  it  contains,  according  to 
its  author's  statement,  twenty  thousand  facts,  and  excerpts  or 
redactions  from  two  thousand  books  or  treatises,  its  range  of 
subjects  is  such  as  to  include  something  attractive  to  every  taste. 
Strictly  speaking,  many  topics  enter  which  do  not  belong  to 
natural  history  at  all,  e.g.,  the  account  of  the  use  made  of  natural 
substances  in  the  applied  sciences  and  the  useful  or  fine  arts ;  but 
as  these  are  decidedly  the  best-written  parts  of  the  work,  and  full 
of  chatty,  pleasant  anecdotes,  we  should  be  much  worse  off  if 
they  had  been  omitted.  The  confused  arrangement  also,  which 
mars  its  utility  as  a  compendium  of  knowledge,  may  be  due  in 
great  measure  to  the  indefinite  state  of  science  at  the  time,  to  the 
gaps  in  its  affinities  which  the  discovery  of  so  many  new  science* 


PLlNY  THE  ELDER.  405 

has  helped  to  fill  up,  and  the  consequent  mingling  together  of 
branches  which  are  separate  and  distinct. 

It  is  questionable  whether  Pliny  ever  had  any  originality.  If 
he  had,  it  was  stamped  out  long  before  he  began  his  book  by  the 
weight  of  his  cumbrous  erudition.  He  cannot  compare  his  mate- 
rials, nor  select  them,  nor  analyse  them,  nor  make  them  explain 
themselves  by  lucid  arrangement.  Nor  has  his  review  of  human 
knowledge  taught  him  the  great  truth  that  science  is  progressive, 
that  each  age  corrects  the  errors  of  the  past,  and  prepares  the  way 
for  the  improvements  of  the  next.  Seneca,  with  all  his  affected 
contempt  for  science,  learnt  the  lesson  of  it  better  than  Pliny. 
He  has  in  the  first  place  no  fixed  canon  of  truth.  One  thing  does 
not  seem  to  him  more  probable  than  another.  A  statement  has 
only  to  come  forward  under  the  testimony  of  a  respectable  ancient, 
and  it  is  at  once  put  down  as  a  fact.  Here,  however,  we  must 
make  a  distinction,  for  fear  of  invalidating  Pliny's  authority  beyond 
what  is  just.  It  is  only  in  strictly  scientific  matters  that  this 
credulity  and  lack  of  penetration  is  found.  Where  he  deals  with 
historical,  biographical,  or  agricultural  questions,  he  is  a  com- 
petent, and  for  the  most  part  trustworthy,  compiler.  His  work  is 
a  most  valuable  storehouse  for  the  antiquarian  or  historian  of 
ancient  literature  or  art,  and  generally  for  the  current  opinions 
on  nearly  every  topic.  Though  genuinely  devoted  to  learning,  he 
has  still  enough  of  the  "  old  Adam  "  of  rhetoric  about  him  to 
complain  of  the  dryness  of  his  material,  and  its  unsuitableness  for 
ornamental  treatment ;  but  this  cannot  surprise  us,  when  we  re- 
member that  even  Tacitus  with  infinitely  less  reason  bewailed  the 
monotony  of  the  events  he  had  taken  upon  him  to  record. 

What  partly  accounts  for  Pliny's  uncritical  credulity  is  the 
unsatisfactory  theory  of  the  universe  which  he  adopts,  and  with 
commendable  candour  sets  before  us  at  the  outset.1  He  is  a  ma- 
terialistic pantheist.  The  world  is  for  him  deity,  self-created  and 
eternal,  incomprehensible  by  man,  moving  ceaselessly  without 
reference  to  him.  So  far  there  is  nothing  unscientific,  except  the 
hypothesis  of  self-creation ;  but  he  goes  on  to  imply  that  the  laws 
of  its  action,  being  incomprehensible,  need  not  be  regular,  at  any 
rate,  as  we  consider  regularity.  The  things  which  militate  against 
our  experience  may  be  the  res  lit  of  other  laws,  or  of  chance  con- 
tingencies of  which  no  account  can  be  given.  Hence  he  never 
rejects  ?.  fact  on  the  ground  of  its  being  marvellous.  The  most 
ludicrous  and  inconceivable  monstrosities  find  an  easy  place  in 
liia  system.     Ho  does  not  attach  any  superstitious  meaning  to 

1  Plin.  N.  H.  ii.  1. 


406  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

them  \  on  the  contrary,  he  ridicules  the  idea  that  omens  or  po» 
cents  are  sent  by  the  gods,  but  he  has  no  touchstone  by  which  to 
test  the  rare  but  possible  results  of  real  experience  as  distinguished 
from  the  figments  of  the  imagination  or  ordinary  travellers'  stories. 
In  the  zoological  part  he  gives  the  reins  tc  his  love  of  the  marvel- 
Ions;  all  kinds  of  absurdities  are  narrated  with  the  utmost 
gravity ;  and  his  accounts  descended  through  the  mediaeval  period 
as  the  accredited  authority  on  the  subject.  In  the  literature  of 
Prester  John  will  be  seen  many  a  reflection  from  the  writings  of 
Pliny ;  in  the  fables  of  the  Arabian  Nights  many  more,  with 
characteristic  additions  equally  creditable  to  human  weakness  or 
ingenuity.  It  is  truly  lamentable  to  reflect  that  while  the  rational 
and  on  the  whole  truthful  descriptions  of  Aristotle  andTheophrastus 
were  extant  and  accessible,  Pliny's  nonsense  should  in  preference 
have  gained  the  ear  of  mankind. 

As  a  stylist  Pliny  recalls  two  very  different  writers,  Seneca  and 
Cato.  In  those  parts  where  he  speaks  as  a  moralist  (and  they  are 
ey  tremely  numerous),  he  strives  to  reproduce  the  point  of  Seneca ; 
in  those  where  he  treats  of  husbandry,  which  are  perhaps  the  most 
naturally  written  in  the  work,  his  stern  brevity  often  recalls  the 
old  censor.  Like  Seneca,  he  considers  physical  science  as  food  for 
edification ;  continually  he  deserts  his  theme  to  preach  a  sermon 
on  the  folly  or  ignorance  of  mankind.  And  like  Gato  he  is  never 
weary  of  extolling  the  wisdom  and  virtues  of  the  harsh  infancy  of 
the  Republic,  and  blaming  the  degeneracy  of  its  feeble  and 
luxurious  descendants  who  refuse  to  till  the  soil,  and  add  acre  to 
acre  of  their  overgrown  estates. 

Pliny  has  a  strong  vein  of  satire,  and  its  effect  is  increased  by 
a  certain  sententious  quaintness  which  gives  a  racy  flavour  to 
many  otherwise  dull  enumerations  of  facts.  But  his  satire  is  not 
of  a  pleasing  type  ;  it  is  built  too  much  on  despair  of  his  kind ; 
his  whole  view  of  the  universe  is  querulous,  and  shows  a  mind 
unequal  to  cope  with  the  knowledge  it  has  acquired. 

He  was  considered  the  most  learned  man  of  his  day,  and  with 
reason.  He  at  least  knew  the  value  of  first-hand  acquaintance 
with  tha  original  authorities,  instead  of  drawing  a  superficial 
culture  from  manuals  and  abridgments,  or  worse  still,  the  empty 
declamations  of  the  rhetorical  schools.  And  after  all  it  is  his  age 
which  must  bear  the  blame  of  his  failure  rather  than  himsell 
For  while  he  was  not  great  enough  to  rise  above  his  surrounding! 
and  investigate,  compare,  and  conclude  on  a  method  planned  by 
himself,  he  was  just  the  man  who  would  have  profited  to  the  full 
by  being  trained  in  a  sound  public  system  of  education,  and 
perhaps,  had  he  lived  in  the  Ciceronian  period,  would  have  risen 


QUINTILIAN.  40? 

SO  a  much  higher  place  as  a  permanent  contributor  to  the  journal 
of  human  knowledge. 

Among  the  younger  contemporaries  of  Pliny,  the  most  cele- 
brated is  M.  Fabius  Quintilianus  (35-95  A.D.),1  a  native  of  Cala- 
gurris  in  Spain,  but  educated  in  Eome,  and  long  established  there 
as  a  popular  and  influential  public  professor  of  eloquence.  He  was 
intrusted  by  Domitian  with  the  education  of  his  two  grand- 
nephews,  an  honour  to  which  he  owed  his  subsequent  elevation  to 
the  consulship.  His  time  had  been  so  fully  occupied  with  lectur- 
ing as  to  allow  no  leisure  for  publishing  anything  until  the  closing 
years  of  his  career.  This  gave  him  the  great  advantage  of  being 
a  ripe  writer  before  he  challenged  the  judgment  of  the  world ; 
and,  in  truth,  Quintilian's  knowledge  and  love  of  his  subject  are 
thorough  in  the  highest  degree.  His  first  essay  was  a  treatise  on 
the  causes  of  the  decay  of  eloquence,2  and  the  last  (which  we  still 
possess)  a  wrork  in  twelve  books  on  the  complete  training  of  an 
orator.3  This  celebrated  work,  to  which  Quintilian  devoted  the 
assiduous  labour  of  two  whole  years,  interrupted  only  by  the 
lessons  given  to  his  royal  pupils,  represents  the  maturest  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  which  we  possess.  The  author  was  modest 
enough  to  express  a  strong  unwillingness  to  write  it,  either  fearing 
to  come  forward  as  an  author  so  late  in  life,  or  judging  the  ground 
preoccupied  already.  However,  it  was  produced  at  last,  and  no 
sooner  known  than  it  at  once  assumed  the  high  position  that  has 
been  accorded  to  it  ever  since.  The  treatment  is  exhaustive;  as 
much  more  thorough  than  the  popular  treatises  of  Cicero  as  it  is 
more  attractive  than  the  purely  technical  one  of  Cornificius.  At 
the  same  time  it  has  the  defects  inseparable  from  the  unreal  age  in 
which  its  author  lived.  While  minutely  providing  for  all  the  future 
orator's  formal  requirements,  it  omits  the  material  one  without  which 
the  finished  rhetorician  is  but  a  tinkling  cymbal,  how  to  think  as 
an  orator.  No  one  knew  better  than  Quintilian  that  this  comes 
from  zest  in  life,  not  from  rules  of  art.  There  will  be  more 
stimulus  given  to  one  who  pants  for  distinction  in  the  delightfid 
pages  of  Cicero's  Brutus,  than  in  all  that  Quintilian  and  such  as  he 
ev.ir  wrote  or  ever  will  write.  But  this  is  not  the  fault  of  the  man  ; 
as  a  formal  rhetorician  of  good  principle,  sound  orthodoxy,  and  love 
for  his  art,  Quintilian  stands  high  in  the  list  of  classical  authors. 

He  begins  his  orator's  training  from  the  cradle.     He  rightly 

1  Some  have  supposed  that  he  lived  much  later,  till  118  A.D.,  but  this  is 
improbable. 

3  Referred  to  in  the  prooemium  to  Book  VI.  Some  have  thought  ft  the 
Trork  we  possess,  and  which  is  usually  ascribed  to  Tacitus,  but  without  reason 

*  De  lnstitatione  Oratorio,. 


408  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

ascribes  the  greatest  importance  to  early  impressions,  even  tli€ 
very  earliest ;  illustrating  his  position  by  the  influence  of  Cornelia 
who  trained  her  sons  to  eloquence  from  childhood,  and  other 
similar  cases  known  to  Eoman  history.  A  good  nurse  must  be 
selected ;  an  eloquent  one  would,  doubtless,  be  hard  to  find.  The 
boy  who  is  destined  to  greatness  has  now  outgrown  the  nursery, 
and  the  great  question  arises,  Is  he  to  be  sent  to  school  ?  With 
the  Bomans  as  with  us  this  difficulty  admitted  of  two  solutions. 
The  lad  might  be  educated  at  home  under  tutors,  or  he  might  bo 
sent  to  learn  the  world  at  a  public  school.  Those  who  at  the 
present  day  shrink  from  sending  their  children  to  school  generally 
profess  to  base  their  unwillingness  on  a  fear  lest  the  influence  of 
bad  example  may  corrupt  the  purity  of  youth ;  Quintilian  on  the 
very  same  ground,  strongly  recommends  a  parent  to  send  his  son 
to  school.  By  this  means,  he  says,  his  tender  years  will  be  saved 
from  the  daily  contamination  which  the  scenes  of  home  life  afford. 
A  sad  commentary  on  the  state  of  Eoman  society  and  the  per- 
nicious effects  of  slave-labour  ! 

After  school,  the  youth  is  to  attend  the  lectures  of  a  rhetorician. 
This  is  of  course  a  matter  of  great  importance,  and  in  the  second 
book  the  writer  handles  its  various  bearings  with  excellent  judg- 
ment. Having  described  the  duties  of  the  professor  and  his 
pupil,  and  the  various  tasks  which  will  be  gone  through,  he 
proceeds  in  the  next  book  to  discuss  the  different  departments  of 
oratory.  In  this  great  subject  he  follows  Aristotle,  here,  as  always, 
going  back  to  the  most  established  authorities,  and  adapting  them 
with  signal  tact  to  the  changed  requirements  of  a  later  age  and  a 
different  nation.  The  points  connected  with  this,  the  central 
theme  of  the  treatise,  carry  us  through  the  five  next  books.  They 
are  the  most  technical  in  the  work,  and  not  adapted  for  general 
reading.  The  eighth  begins  the  interesting  topic  of  style,  which 
is  continued  in  the  ninth,  where  trope,  metaphor,  amplification, 
and  other  figurae  orationis  are  illustrated  at  length.  Throughout 
these  books  there  are  a  large  number  of  quotations,  and  continual 
references  to  the  practice  of  celebrated  masters  in  the  art,  besides 
frequent  introduction  of  passages  from  the  poets  and  historians. 
But  it  is  in  the  tenth  book  that  these  are  concentrated  into  one 
focus.  To  acquire  a  "  firm  facility  "  (e£is)  of  speech  it  is  neces- 
sary to  have  read  widely  and  with  discernment.  This  leads  him 
to  enumerate  the  Greek  and  Eoman  authors  likely  to  be  most 
useful  to  an  orator.  The  criticisms  he  offers  on  the  salient  quali- 
ties of  almost  all  the  great  classics  may  seem  to  us  trite  and 
common-place.  They  certainly  are  not  remarkable  for  brilliancy^ 
but  they  are  just  and  sober,  and  have  stood  the  test  of  ages,  and 


QUINTILIAN.  409 

perhaps  their  apparent  dulness  results  fr\_m  their  having  been 
always  familiar  words.  Their  utility  to  the  student  of  literature 
/s  so  considerable,  that  we  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  append 
6  translation  of  them  to  the  present  chapter.1 

The  eleventh  book  chiefly  turns  on  memory,  which  the  Romans 
cultivated  with  extreme  diligence,  and  several  remarkable  instances 
of  which  have  been  noticed  in  the  course  of  this  work.  It  was  to 
them  a  much  more  vital  excellence  than  to  us,  who  have  adopted 
the  practice  of  using  rough  notes  or  other  assistance  to  it.  Delivery, 
too,  is  in  the  elventh  book  fully  discussed  ;  and  these  chapters  will 
be  read  with  interest  as  showing  the  extreme  and  minute  care  be- 
es towed  by  the  Romans  on  the  smallest  details  of  action  as  means  of 
producing  effect.  Generally,  their  oratory  was  of  a  vehement  type. 
Gesture  was  freely  used,  and  the  voice  raised  to  its  fullest  pitch. 
Trachalus  had  such  a  noisy  organ  that  it  drowned  the  pleaders  in  the 
other  courts.  Even  after  the  decay  of  freedom  the  fiery  gestures 
that  had  been  once  its  language  were  not  discarded ;  at  the  same 
time  perfect  modulation  and  symmetry  were  aimed  at,  so  that  even 
in  the  most  empresse  passages  decorum  was  not  violated.  The 
systematized  rhetorical  training  at  present  general  in  France,  and 
practised  by  all  who  aspire  to  arouse  the  feeling  of  an  assembly,  is 
probably  the  nearest,  though  it  may  be  but  a  faint,  equivalent  of  the 
vigorous  action  of  the  Roman  courts.  The  twelfth  book  treats  of  the 
moral  qualifications  necessary  for  a  great  speaker.  Quintilian  insists 
strongly  on  these.  The  good  orator  must  be  a  good  man.  The 
highest  talents  are  nothing  if  distorted  by  evil  thoughts.  We 
thus  see  that  he  took  a  worthy  view  of  his  profession,  and  would 
never  have  degraded  it  to  be  the  instrument  of  tyranny  or  a 
means  of  saturating  the  ears  of  the  idle  with  seductive  and  com- 
plaisant theories  of  life,  by  which  a  spurious  popularity  is  so 
cheaply  obtained.  He  was  a  high-minded  man  "  quantum  limit;" 
i.e.,  as  far  as  a  debased  age  allowed  of  high-minded ness.  His 
domestic  life  was  clouded  by  sorrow.  His  first  wife  died  at 
the  early  age  of  nineteen,  leaving  him  two  sons,  the  younger  of  whom 
only  lived  to  the  age  of  seven,  and  the  elder  (for  whose  instruction 
he  wrote  the  book,  and  whose  precocious  talent  and  goodness  of 
disposition  he  recounts  with  pardonable  pride)  only  survived  his 
brother  about  four  years.  His  death  was  an  irremediable  blow, 
which  the  orator  bewails  in  the  preface  to  his  sixth  book.  The 
passage  is  instructive  as  revealing  the  taste  of  the  day.  The 
paternal  regret  clothes  itself  in  such  a  profusion  of  antithesis,  trope, 
and  hyperbole,  that,  did  we  not  know  from  other  sources  the  excel- 
lence of  his  heart,  we  might  fancy  he  was  exercising  hip  talents  in 

1  See  Appendix. 


410  HISTORY  OF  110MAN  LITERATURE. 

the  sphere  of  professiDnal  advertisement.  Before  his  endowment 
as  professor,  which  appears  to  have  brought  him  about  £800  a 
year,  he  had  occasionally  pleaded  in  the  courts;  he  appears  to 
have  written  declamations  in  various  styles,  but  those  now  current 
unde:  his  name  are  improperly  ascribed  to  him. 

Among  his  pupils  was  the  younger  Pliny,  who  alludes  to  him 
with  gratitude  in  one  of  his  letters;1  he  was  well  thought  of  during 
his  life,  and  is  frequently  mentioned  by  Statius,  Martial,  and 
Juvenal,  both  as  the  cleverest  of  rhetoricians,  and  the  best  and 
most  trusted  of  teachers  ;2  by  Juvenal  also  as  a  bright  instance 
of  good  fortune  very  rare  among  the  brethren  of  the  craft.3 

The  style  of  Quintilian  is  modelled  on  that  of  Cicero,  and  is 
intended  to  be  a  return  to  the  usages  of  the  best  period.  He  had 
a  warm  love  for  the  writers  of  the  republican  age,  above  all  for 
Cicero,  whom  he  is  never  tired  of  praising ;  and  he  preached  a 
crusade  against  the  tinsel  ornaments  of  the  new  school  whose 
viciousness,  he  thought,  consisted  chiefly  in  a  corrupt  following  of 
Seneca.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  impugn  the  authority  of  his 
brilliant  compatriot,  and  this  he  appears  to  have  done  with  such 
warmth  as  to  give  rise  to  the  opinion  that  he  had  a  personal  grudge 
against  him.  Some  critics  have  noticed  that  Quintilian,  even  when 
blaming,  often  falls  into  the  pointed  antithetical  style  of  his  time. 
Tins  is  true.  But  it  was  unavoidable ;  for  no  man  can  detach  himself 
from  the  mode  of  speaking  common  to  those  with  whom  he  lives. 
It  is  sufficient  if  he  be  aware  of  its  worse  faults,  point  out  their  ten- 
dency, and  strive  to  avoid  them.  This  undoubtedly  Quintilian  did. 

Among  prose  writers  of  less  note  we  may  mention  Licinius 
Mucianus,  Cluvius  Kufus,  who  both  wrote  histories  ;  and  Vip- 
stanus  Messala,  an  orator  of  the  reactionary  school,  who,  like 
Quintilian,  sought  to  restore  a  purer  taste,  and  devoted  some  of 
his  time  to  historical  essays  on  the  events  he  had  witnessed.  M. 
Aper  and  Julius  Secundus  are  important  as  being  two  of  the 
speakers  introduced  into  Tacitus's  dialogue  on  oratory,  the  former 
taking  the  part  of  the  modern  style,  the  latter  mediating  between 
the  two  extreme  views,  but  inclining  towards  the  modern.  All 
these  belonged  to  the  reigns  of  Vespasian  and  Titus,  and  lived 
into  the  first  years  of  Domitian. 

An  important  writer  for  students  of  ancient  applied  science  is 
Sex.  Julius  Frontinus,  whose  career  extends  from  about  40  a.d, 
to  the  end  of  the  first  century.  He  was  praetor  urbanus  70  a.d., 
and  was  employed  in  responsible  military  posts  in  Gaul  and  Britain, 

1  Plin.  vi.  32.  *  Juv.  iv.  75. 

*  Juv.  vii.  186.  Pliny  gave  him  £400  towards  his  daughter's  dowry,  a 
proof  that,  though  he  might  be  well  off,  he  could  not  be  considered  rich. 


FRONTINUS.  411 

In  the  former  country  he  reduced  the  powerful  tribe  of  the  Lingones, 
in  Britain,  as  successor  to  Petilius  Cerealis,  he  distinguished  him- 
self against  the  Silures,  showing,  says  Tacitus,  qualities  as  great  as 
it  was  safe  to  show  at  that  time.  He  was  thrice  consul,  once  under 
Domitian,  again  under  Nerva  (97  a.d.),  and  lastly  under  Trajan 
(100  a.d.),  when  he  had  for  colleague  the  emperor  himself.  He 
died  103  a.d.  or  perhaps  in  the  following  year.  Pliny  the  younger 
knew  him  well,  and  has  several  notices  of  him  in  his  letters. 
Throughout  his  active  life  he  was  above  all  things  a  man  of  busi- 
ness :  literature  and  science,  though  he  was  a  proficient  in  both, 
were  made  strictly  subservient  to  the  ends  of  his  profession.  His 
character  was  cautious  but  independent,  and  he  is  the  only  con- 
temporary writer  we  possess  who  does  not  flatter  Domitian.  The 
work  on  gromatics,  which  originally  contained  two  books,  has 
descended  to  us  only  in  a  few  short  excerpts,  wrhich  treat  de  agro- 
rum  qualitate,  de  controversies,  de  limitibus,  de  controversiis 
aquarum.  This  was  written  early  in  the  reign  of  Domitian. 
Another  work  of  the  same  period  was  a  theoretical  treatise  on 
tactics,  alluded  to  in  the  more  popular  work  which  we  possess,  and 
quoted  by  Vegetius  who  followed  him.  In  this  he  examined  Greek 
theories  of  warfare  as  well  as  Roman,  and  apparently  with  discri- 
mination ;  for  Aelian,  in  his  account  of  the  Greek  strategical  writers, 
assigns  Frontinus  a  high  place.  The  comprehensive  manual  called 
Strategematon  (sollertia  ducum  facta)  is  intended  for  general  read- 
ing among  those  who  are  interested  in  military  matters.  The 
books  are  arranged  according  to  their  subjects,  but  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  these  there  is  no  definite  plan  followed.  Many  interpola- 
tions have  been  inserted,  especially  in  the  fourth  and  last  book 
which  is  a  kind  of  appendix,  adding  general  examples  of  strategic 
sayings  and  doings  (strategematica)  to  the  specifically-selected  in- 
stances of  the  strategic  art  which  are  treated  in  the  first  three. 
Its  introduction,  as  Teuffel  remarks,  is  written  in  a  boastful  style 
quite  foreign  to  Frontinus,  and  the  arrangement  of  anecdotes  under 
various  moral  headings  reminds  us  of  a  rhetorician  like  Valerius 
Maximus,  rather  than  of  a  man  of  affairs.  The  entire  fourth  book 
appeai-s  to  be  an  accretion,  perhaps  as  early  as  the  fourth  century. 
The  last  treatise  by  Frontinus  which  we  possess  is  that  De  Aquis 
Urbis  Iiomae,  or  with  a  slightly  different  title,  De  Aquaeductu,  or 
De  Cura  Aquarum,  published  under  Trajan  soon  after  the  death  of 
Nerva.  In  an  admirable  preface  he  explains  that  his  invariable 
custom  when  intrusted  with  any  work  was  to  make  himself 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings  before 
beginning  to  act ;  he  could  thus  work  with  greater  promptitude 
and  despatch,  and  besides  gainedva  theoretical  knowledge  whiok 


412  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

might  have  escaped  him  amid  the  multitude  of  practical  details, 
Frontinus's  account  of  the  water-supply  of  Rome  is  complete  and 
valuable  :  recent  explorers  have  found  it  thoroughly  trustworthy, 
and  have  been  aided  by  it  in  reconstructing  the  topography  of  the 
ancient  city.1  The  architecture  of  Eome  has  been  reproached  with 
some  justice  for  bestowing  its  finest  achievements  on  buildings 
destined  for  amusement,  or  on  mere  private  dwellings.  But  if 
from  the  amphitheatres,  the  villas,  the  baths,  we  turn  to  the  roads, 
the  sewers,  and  the  aqueducts,  we  shall  agree  with  Frontinus  in 
deeply  admiring  so  grand  a  combination  of  the  artistic  with  the 
useful.  A  practical  recognition  of  some  of  the  great  sanitary  laws 
seem  to  have  early  prevailed  at  Rome,  and  might  well  excite  our 
wonder,  if  such  things  had  not  been  as  a  rule  passed  by  in  silence 
by  historians.  Recent  discoveries  are  tending  to  set  the  early 
civilisation  of  Rome  on  a  far  higher  level  than  it  has  hitherto  been 
able  to  claim. 

The  stvle  of  Frontinus  is  not  so  devoid  of  ornament  as  might  be 
expected  f  r  m  one  so  much  occupied  in  business ;  but  the  ornament 
it  has  is  of  the  best  kind.  He  shuns  the  conceits  of  the  period, 
and  goes  back  to  the  republican  authors,  of  whom  (and  especially 
of  Caesar's  Commentaries)  his  language  strongly  reminds  us.  We 
observe  that  the  very  simplicity  which  Quintilian  sought  in  vain 
from  a  lifelong  rhetorical  training  is  present  unsought  in  Frontinus ; 
a  clear  proof  that  it  is  the  occupation  of  life  and  the  nature  of  the 
man,  not  the  varnish  of  artistic  culture,  however  elaborately  laid 
on,  that  determines  the  main  characteristics  of  the  writer. 

No  other  prose  authors  of  any  name  have  come  down  to  us  from 
this  epoch.  A  vast  number  of  persons  are  flatteringly  saluted  by 
Statius  and  Martial  as  orators,  historians,  jurists,  &c. ;  but  these 
venal  poets  had  a  stock  of  complimentary  phrases  always  ready  for 
any  one  powerful  enough  to  command  them.  "When  we  read  there- 
fore that  Tutilius,  Regulus,  Flavius  Ursus,  Septimius  Severus,  were 
great  writers,  we  must  accept  the  statement  only  with  considerable 
reductions.  Yictorius  Marcellus,  the  friend  to  whom  Quintilian 
dedicates  his  treatise,  was  probably  a  person  of  some  real  eminence; 
his  juridical  knowledge  is  celebrated  by  Statius.  The  Silvae  of 
Statius  and  the  letters  of  Pliny  imply  that  there  was  a  very  active 
and  generally  diffused  interest  in  science  and  letters ;  but  it  is  easy 
co  be  somebody  where  no  one  is  great.  Among  grammarians  Aemi- 
lius  Asper  deserves  notice.2     He  seems  to  have  been  living  while 

1  Mr  Parker  told  the  writer  that  it  was  impossible  to  overrate  the  ac- 
curacy of  Frontinus,  and  his  extraordinary  clearness  of  description,  which 
he  had  founl  an  in  valuable  guide  in  many  laborious  and  minute  investing* 
tions  on  the  water-supply  of  ancient  Rome. 

a  He  is  namod  by  St  Aug.  Be  Util.  Cred.  17. 


OTHER   WRITERS. 


413 


Suetonius  composed  his  biography  of  grammarians,  since  he  is  not 
included  in  it.  He  continued  the  studies  of  Cornutus  and  Probus 
of  Berytus,  and  was  best  known  for  his  Quaediones  Virgilianae 
(of  which  several  fragments  still  remain),  and  his  commentaries  on 
Terence  and  Sallust.  Largus  Licinus,  the  author  of  Ciceromastix, 
may  perhaps  be  referred  to  this  time.  The  reiterated  commenda- 
tion of  Cicero  occurring  in  Quintilian  may  have  roused  the  modern- 
ising party  into  active  opposition,  and  drawn  out  this  brochure. 
History  and  philosophy  both  sunk  to  an  extremely  low  ebb ;  no 
writers  on  these  subjects  worthy  of  mention  are  preserved. 


APPENDIX. 

Quintilian's  Account  of  the  Roman  Authors. 


We  subjoin  a  translation  of  Quin- 
tilian's criticism  of  the  chief  Roman 
authors  as  very  important  for  the 
student  of  Latin  literature,  premising, 
however,  that  he  judged  them  solely 
as  regards  their  utility  to  one  who  is 
preparing  to  become  an  orator.  The 
criticism,  although  thus  special,  has 
a  permanent  value,  as  embracing  the 
best  opinion  of  the  time,  temperately 
stated  (Inst.  Or.  xi.  85-131):—"  The 
same  order  will  be  observed  in  treat- 
ing the  Roman  writers.  As  Homer 
among  the  Greeks,  so  Virgil  among 
our  own  authors  will  best  head  the 
list ;  he  is  beyond  doubt  the  second 
epic  poet  of  either  nation.  I  will  use 
the  words  I  heard  Domitius  Afer  use 
when  I  was  a  boy.  "When  I  asked 
him  who  he  considered  came  nearest 
to  Homer,  he  replied,  "  Virgil  is  the 
6econd,  but  he  is  nearer  the  first  than 
the  third;"  and  in  truth,  while  Rome 
cannot  but  yield  to  that  celestial  and 
deathless  genius,  yet  we  can  observe 
more  care  and  diligence  in  Virgil ;  for 
this  very  reason,  perhaps,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  labour  more.  And  so  it  is 
that  we  make  up  for  the  lack  of  occa- 
sional splendour  by  consistent  and 
equable  excellence.  All  the  other 
epicists  will  follow  at  a  respectful 
distance.  Maccr  and  Lucretius  are 
indeed  worth  reading,  but  are  of  no 
value  for  the  phraseology,  which  is 


the  main  body  of  eloquence.  Each  is 
good  in  his  own  subject ;  but  the  for- 
mer is  humble,  the  latter  difficult. 
Varro  Atacinus,  in  those  works  which 
have  gained  him  fame,  appears  as  a 
translator  by  no  means  contemptible, 
but  is  not  rich  enough  to  add  to  the  re« 
sources  of  eloquence.  Ennius  let  us 
reverence  as  we  should  groves  of  holy 
antiquity,  whose  grand  and  venerable 
trees  have  more  sanctity  than  beauty. 
Others  are  nearer  our  own  day,  and 
more  useful  for  the  matter  in  hand. 
Ovid  in  his  heroics  is  as  usual  wanton, 
and  too  fond  of  his  own  talent,  but  in 
parts  he  deserves  praise.  Cornelius 
Scvcrus,  though  a  better  versifier  than 
poet,  would  still  claim  the  second 
place,  if  only  he  had  written  all  his 
Sicilian  War  as  well  as  the  first  book. 
But  his  early  death  did  not  allow  his 
genius  to  be  matured.  His  boyish 
works  show  a  great  and  admirable 
talent,  and  a  desire  for  the  best  style 
rare  at  that  time  of  life.  We  have 
lately  lost  much  in  ValcHus  Flaccus. 
The  inspiration  of  Saleius  Bassus  was 
vigorous  and  poetical,  but  old  age 
never  succeeded  in  ripening  it.  Jto- 
birius  and  Pcdo  are  worth  reading,  if 
you  have  time.  Lucan  is  ardent, 
earnest,  and  full  of  admirably  ex- 
pressed sentiments,  and,  to  give  my 
real  opinion,  should  be  classed  with 
orators  rather  than  poets.     We  have 


414 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


named  these  because  Germanicus  Au- 
gustus (Dornitian)  has  been  diverted 
from  his  favourite  pursuit  by  the  care 
of  the  world,  and  the  gods  thought 
it  too  little  for  him  to  be  the  first  of 

J>oets.  Yet  what  can  be  more  sublime, 
earned,  matchless  in  every  way,  than 
the  poems  in  which,  giving  up  em- 
pire, he  spent  the  privacy  of  his  youth? 
Who  could  sing  of  wars  so  well  as 
he  who  has  so  successfully  waged 
them?  To  whom  would  the  goddesses 
who  watch  over  studies  listen  so  pro- 
pitiously ?  To  whom  would  Minerva, 
the  patroness  of  his  house,  more 
willingly  reveal  the  mysteries  of  her 
art  ?  Future  ages  will  recount  these 
things  at  greater  length.  For  now 
this  glory  is  obscured  by  the  splen- 
dour of  his  other  virtues.  We,  how- 
ever, who  worship  at  the  shrine  of 
letters  will  crave  your  indulgence, 
Caesar,  for  not  passing  the  subject  by 
in  silence,  and  will  at  least  bear  wit- 
ness, as  Virgil  says, 

'That   ivy   wreathes  the   laurels  of   jour 
crown.' 

'*  In  elegy,  too,  we  challenge  the 
Greeks.  The  tersest  and  most  elegant 
author  of  it  is  in  my  opinion  Tibullus. 
Others  prefevPropertiits.  Ovid  is  more 
luxuriant,  Gallus  harsher,  than  either. 
Satire  is  all  our  own.  In  this  Lueilius 
first  gained  great  renown,  and  even 
now  has  many  admirers  so  wedded  to 
him,  as  to  prefer  him  not  only  to  all 
other  satirists  but  to  all  other  poets. 
I  disagree  with  them  as  much  as  I  dis- 
agree with  Horace,  who  thinks  Lueilius 
flows  in  a  muddy  stream,  and  that 
there  is  much  that  one  would  wish  to 
remove.  For  there  is  wonderful 
learning  in  him,  freedom  of  speech 
with  the  bitterness  that  comes  there- 
from, and  an  inexhaustible  wit. 
Horace  is  far  terser  and  purer,  and 
without  a  rival  in  his  sketches  of 
character.  Persius  has  earned  much 
true  glory  by  his  single  book.  There 
are  men  now  living  who  are  renowned, 
and  others  who  will  be  so  hereafter. 
That  earlier  sort  of  satire  not  written 
exclusively  in  verse  was  founded  by 
Terentius  Varro%  the  most  learned  of 


'  thn  Romans.     He  composed  a  vast 

!  number  of  extremely  erudite  treatises, 
being  well  versed  in  the  Latin  tongue 
as  well  as  in  every  kind  of  antiquarian 
knowledge  ;  he  will,  however,  con- 
tribute much  more  to  science  than 
to  oratory. 

1 '  The  iambus  is  not  much  in  vogue 
among  the  Romans  as  a  separate  form 
of  poetry ;  it  is  more  often  inter- 
spersed with  other  rhythms.  Its 
bitterness  is  found  in  Catullus.  Biba- 
culus,  and  Horace,  though  in  the  last 
the  epode  breaks  its  monotony. 

"  Of  lyricists  Horace  is,  I  may  say, 
the  only  one  worth  reading ;  for  he 
sometimes  rises,  and  he  is  always  full 
of  sweetness  and  grace,  and  most 
happily  daring  in  figures  and  expres- 
sions. If  any  one  else  be  added,  it 
must  be  Caonius  Bassus,  whom  we 
have  lately  seen,  but  there  are  living 
lyricists  far  greater  than  he. 

M  Of  the  ancient  tragedians  Accius 
and  Pacuvius  are  the  most  renowned 
for  the  gravity  of  their  sentiments, 
the  weight  of  their  words,  and  the 
dignity  of  their  characters.  But 
brilliancy  of  touch  and  the  last  polish 
in  completing  their  work  seems  to 
have  been  wanting,  not  so  much  to 
themselves  as  to  their  times.  Accius 
is  held  to  be  the  more  powerful  writer; 
Pacuvius  (by  those  who  wish  to  be 
thought  learned)  the  more  learned. 
Next  comes  the  Thycstcs  of  Varius, 
which  may  be  compared  with  any  of 
the  Greek  plays.  The  Medea  of  Ovid 
shows  what  that  poet  might  have 
achieved  if  he  had  but  controlled  in- 
stead of  indulging  his  inspiration.  Of 
those  of  my  own  day  Pomponius  Se- 
cundum is  by  far  the  greatest.  The 
old  criticSj-indeed,  thought  him  want- 
ing in  tragic  force,  but  they  confessed 
his  learning  and  brilliancy. 

"  In  cone  ly  we  halt  most  lament- 
ably. It  is  true  that  Varro  declares 
(after  AeliusStilo)  that  the  muses,  had 
they  been  willing  to  talk  Latin,  would 
have  used  the  language  of  Plautus. 
It  is  true  also  that  the  ancients  had  a 
high  respect  for  Cheilitis,  and  that 
they  attributed  the  plays  of  Ter»nc« 


APPENDIX. 


415 


to  Scipio — plays  that  are  of  their 
kind  most  elegant,  and  would  be  even 
more  pleasing  if  they  had  kept  within 
the  iambic  metre.  We  can  scarcely 
reproduce  in  comedy  a  faint  shadow  j 
of  our  originals,  so  that  I  am  com- 
pelled to  believe  the  language  incap- 
able of  that  grace,  which  even  in 
Greek  is  peculiar  to  the  Attic,  or  at 
any  rate  has  never  been  attained  in 
any  other  dialect.  Afranius  excels  in 
the  national  comedy,  but  I  wish  he 
had  not  denied  his  plots  by  licentious 
allusions. 

"In  history  at  all  events,  I  would 
not  yield  the  palm  to  Greece.  I 
should  have  no  fear  in  matching 
JSallust  against  Thucydides,  nor 
would  Herodotus  disdain  to  be  com- 

f tared  with  Livy — Livy,  the  most  de- 
ightful  in  narration,  the  most  candid 
in  judgment,  the  most  eloquent  in 
his  speeches  that  can  be  conceived. 
Everything  is  perfectly  adapted  both 
to  the  circumstances  and  personages 
introduced.  The  affections,  and,  above 
all,  the  softer  ones,  have  never  (to  say 
the  least)  been  more  persuasively  in- 
troduced by  any  writer.  Thus  by  a 
different  kind  of  excellence  he  has 
equalled  the  immortal  rapidity  of 
Sallust.  Servilius  Nonianus  well 
said  to  me :  'They  are  not  like,  but 
they  are  equal.'  I  used  often  to 
listen  to  his  recitations  ;  a  man  of 
lofty  spirit  and  full  of  brilliant  senti- 
ments, but  less  condensed  than  the 
majesty  of  history  demands.  This 
condition  was  better  fulfilled  by 
Aufidius  Bassus,  who  was  a  little  his 
senior,  at  any  rate  in  his  books  on 
the  German  War,  in  which  the  author 
wa3  admirable  in  his  general  treat- 
ment, but  now  and  then  fell  below 
himself.  There  still  survives  and 
adorns  the  literary  glory  of  our  age 
a  man  worthy  of  an  immortal  record, 
who  will  be  named  some  day,  but 
now  is  only  alluded  to.  He  has  many 
to  admire,  none  to  imitate  him,  as  if 
freedom,  though  he  clips  her  wings, 
had  injured  him.  But  even  in  what  j 
he  has  allowed  to  remain  you  can 
ieteet  a  spirit  full  lofty,  and  opinions 


courageously  stated.  There  are  other 
good  writers  ;  but  at  present  we  are 
tasting,  as  it  were,  the  samples,  not 
ransacking  the  libraries. 

"It  is  the  orators  who  more  than 
any  have  made  Latin  eloquence  a 
match  for  that  of  Greece.  For  I 
could  boldly  pitch  Cicero  against  any 
of  their  champions.  Nor  am  I  ignor-  » 
ant  how  great  a  strife  I  should  be 
stirring  up  (especially  as  it  is  no  part 
of  my  plan),  were  I  to  compare  him 
with  Demosthenes.  This  is  the  less 
necessary,  since  I  think  Demosthenes 
should  be  read  (or  rather  learnt  by 
heart)  above  every  one  else.  Their 
excellences  seem  to  me  to  be  very 
similar ;  there  is  the  same  plan, 
order  of  division,  method  of  prepara- 
tion, proof,  and  all  that  belongs  to 
invention.  In  the  oratorical  style 
there  is  some  difference.  The  one  is 
closer,  the  other  more  fluent ;  the  >- 
one  draws  his  conclusion  with  more 
incisiveness,  the  other  with  greater 
breadth  ;  the  one  always  wields  a  wea- 
pon with  a  sharp  edge,  the  other  fre- 
quently a  heavy  one  as  well ;  from  the 
one  nothing  can  he  taken,  to  the 
other  nothing  can  be  added ;  the  one 
shows  more  care,  the  other  more 
natural  gift.  In  wit  and  pathos,  both 
important  points,  Cicero  is  clearly 
first.  Perhaps  the  custom  of  his  state 
did  not  allow  Demosthenes  to  use  the 
epilogue,  hut  then  neither  does  the 
genius  of  Latin  oratory  allow  us  to 
employ  ornaments  which  the  Athe- 
nians admire.  In  their  letters,  of 
which  both  have  left  several,  there 
can  be  no  comparison ;  nor  in  their 
dialcgues,  of  which  Demosthenes  has 
not  left  any.  In  one  point  we  must 
yield :  Demosthenes  came  first,  and 
of  course  had  a  great  share  in  making 
Cicero  what  he  was.  For  to  me 
Cicero  seems  in  his  intense  zeal  for 
imitating  the  Greeks  to  have  united 
the  force  of  Demosthenes,  the  copi- 
ousness of  Plato,  and  the  sweetness 
of  Isocrates.  Nor  has  he  only  ac- 
quired by  study  all  that  was  best  is 
each,  but  has  even  exalted  the  ma- 
jority if  not  the  whole  of  their  excel 


416 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


lences  by  the  inexpressible  fertility 
of  his  glorious  talent.  For,  as  Pin- 
dar says,  he  does  not  collect  rain- 
water, but  bursts  forth  in  a  living 
stream  ;  born  by  the  gift  of  providence 
that  eloquence  might  put  forth  and 
test  all  her  powers.  For  who  can  teach 
more  earnestly  or  move  more  vehe- 
mently ?  to  whom  was  such  sweetness 
ever  given  ?  The  very  concessions 
he  extorts  you  think  he  begs,  and 
while  by  his  swing  he  carries  the 
judge  right  across  the  course,  the 
roan  seems  all  the  while  to  be  follow- 
ing of  his  own  accord.  Then  in 
everything  he  advances  there  is  such 
strength  of  assertion  that  one  is 
ashamed  to  disagree  ;  nor  does  he 
bring  to  bear  the  eagerness  of  an 
advocate,  but  the  moral  confidence 
of  a  juryman  or  a  witness  ;  and  mean- 
while all  those  graces,  which  separate 
individuals  with  the  most  constant 
care  can  hardly  obtain,  flow  from 
him  without  any  premeditation  ;  and 
that  eloquence  which  is  so  delicious 
to  listen  to  seems  to  carry  on  its 
surface  the  most  perfect  freedom 
from  labour.  "Wherefore  his  con- 
temporaries did  right  to  call  him 
"  king  of  the  courts  ; "  and  posterity 
to  give  him  such  renown  that  Cicero 
stands  for  the  name  not  of  a  man  but 
of  eloquence  itself.  Let  us  then  fix 
our  eyes  on  him  ;  let  his  be  the  ex- 
ample we  set  before  us  ;  let  him  who 
loves  Cicero  well  know  that  his  own 
progress  has  been  great.  In  Asinius 
Pollio  there  is  much  invention,  much, 
according  to  some,  excessive,  dili- 
gence ;  but  he  is  so  far  from  the 
brilliancy  and  sweetness  of  Cicero 
that  he  might  be  a  generation  earlier. 
But  Messala  is  polished  and  open, 
and  in  a  way  carries  his  noble  birth 
into  his  style  of  eloquence,  but  he 
lacks  vigour.  If  Julius  Caesar  had 
only  had  leisure  for  the  forum,  he 
would  be  the  one  we  should  select  as 
the  rival  of  Cicero.  He  has  such 
force,  point,  and  vehemence  of  style, 
that  it  is  clear  he  spoke  with  the 
same  mind  that  he  warred.  Yet  all 
's  rovered  with  a  wondrous  elegance 


of  expression,  of  which  he  was  peculi- 
arly studious.  There  was  much 
talent  in  Caelius,  and  in  accusations 
chiefly  he  showed  a  great  urbanity ; 
he  was  a  man  worthy  of  a  better 
mind  and  a  longer  life.  I  have 
found  those  who  prefer  Calvus  to 
any  orator  ;  I  have  found  others  who 
thought  with  Cicero  that  by  too 
strict  criticism  of  himself  he  lost  real 
power  ;  but  his  style  is  weighty  and 
noble,  guarded,  and  often  vehement. 
He  was  an  enthusiastic  atticist,  and 
his  early  death  may  be  considered  a 
misfortune,  if  we  can  believe  that  a 
longer  life  would  have  added  something 
to  his  over  concise  manner.  Servius 
Sulpidus  has  earned  considerable 
fame  by  his  three  speeches.  Oassiuf 
Severus  will  give  many  points  for 
imitation  if  he  be  read  judiciously  ;  if 
he  had  added  colour  and  weight  to 
his  other  good  qualities  of  style,  he 
would  be  placed  extremely  high. 
For  he  has  great  talent  and  wonder- 
ful power  of  satire.  His  urbanity, 
too,  is  great,  but  he  gave  himself  up 
to  passion  rather  than  reason.  And 
as  his  wit  is  always  bitter,  so  the 
very  bitterness  of  it  sometimes  makes 
it  ludicrous.  I  need  not  enumerate 
the  rest  of  this  loug  list.  Of  my 
own  contemporaries  Domilius  Afer 
and  Julius  Africanus  are  far  the 
greatest ;  the  former  in  art  and 
general  style,  the  latter  in  earnest- 
ness, and  the  sorting  of  words,  which 
sorting,  however,  is  perhaps  exces- 
sive, as  his  arrangements  are  lengthy 
and  his  metaphors  immoderate. 
There  have  been  lately  some  great 
masters  in  this  line.  Trachalus  was 
often  sublime,  and  very  open  in  his 
manner,  a  man  to  whom  you  gave 
credit  for  good  motives  ;  but  he  was 
much  greater  heard  than  read.  For 
he  had  a  beauty  of  voice  such  as  I 
have  never  known  in  any  other,  an 
articulation  good  enough  for  the 
stage,  and  grace  of  person  and  every 
other  external  advantage  were  at 
their  height  in  him.  Vibius  Crispui 
was  neat,  elegant,  and  pleasing, 
better  for  private  than  public  causes 


APPENDIX. 


417 


Had  Julius  Secundus  lived  longer, 
his  renown  as  an  orator  would  be 
first-rate.  For  he.  would  have  added, 
as  indeed  he  had  already  began  to 
odd,  all  the  desiderata  for  the  highest 
ideal.  He  would  have  been  more 
combative,  and  more  attentive  to  the 
subject,  even  to  an  occasional  neglect 
of  the  manner.  Cut  off  as  he  was,  he 
nevertheless  merits  a  high  place ; 
euch  is  his  facility  of  speech,  his 
charm  in  explaining  what  he  has  to 
say  ;  his  open,  gentle,  and  specious 
style,  his  perfect  selection  of  words, 
even  those  which  are  adopted  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment ;  his  vigorous 
application  of  analogies  extemporane- 
ously suggested.  My  successors  in 
rhetorical  criticism  will  have  a  rich 
fu-ldfor  praising  those  who  are  now  liv- 
ing. For  there  are  now  great  talents 
at  work  who  do  credit  to  the  bar, 
both  finished  patrons,  worthy  rivals 
of  the  ancients,  and  industrious 
youths,  following  them  in  the  path 
of  excellence. 

"There  remain  the  philosophers,f  ew 
of  whom  have  attained  to  eloquence. 
Cicero,  here  as  ever,  is  the  rival  of 
Plato.  Brutus  stands  in  this  depart- 
ment much  higher  than  as  an  orator; 
he  suffices  for  the  weight  of  his  mat- 
ter ;  you  can  see  he  feels  what  he 
says.  Cornelius  Cclsus,  following  the 
Bcxtii,  lias  written  a  good  deal  with 
point  and  elegance.  Plancus  among 
the  Stoics  is  useful  for  his  knowledge. 
Among  Epicureans,  Catius  though  a 
light  is  a  pleasant  writer.  I  have 
purposely  deferred  Seneca  until  the 
end,  because  of  the  false  report  cur- 
rent that  I  condemn  him,  and  even 
personally  dislike  him.  This  results 
from  my  endeavour  to  recal  to  a 
oeverer  standard  a  corrupt  and  efrV  ni- 
nate  taste.  When  I  begai  my  f*ru- 
oade,  Seneca  was  almost  he  only 
writer  in  the  hands  of  the  young. 
Nor  did  I  try  to  "disestablish"  him 
altogether,  but  only  to  prevent  his 
being  placed  above  better  men,  whom 
he  continually  attacked,  from  a  con- 
sciousness that   his  special   talents 


would  never  allow  him    to  pleasi 
in  the  way  they  pleased.     And  then 
his  pupils  loved  him  better  than  they 
imitated  him,  and  in  their  imitations 
fell  as  much  below  him  as  he  had 
fallen  below  the  ancients.     I  only 
wish  they  could  have  been  equals  or 
seconds  to   such  a  man.       But  hs 
pleased  them  solely  through  his  faults; 
and  it  was  to  reproduce  these  that 
they  all  strove  with    their  utmost 
efforts,  and  then,  boasting  that  they 
spoke  in  his  style,  they  greatly  in- 
jured his   fame.     He,    indeed,    had 
many  and  great  excellences;  an  easy 
and  fertile  talent,  much  study,  much 
knowledge,   though  in  this  he  was 
often  led  astray  by  those  he  employed 
to  "research"  for  him.     He  treated 
nearly  the  whole  cycle  of  knowledge. 
For  he  has  left  speeches,  poems,  let- 
ters, and  dialogues.     In  philosophy 
he  was  not  very  accurate,  but  he  was 
a  notable  rebuker  of  vice.      Many 
brilliant  apophthegms  are  scattered 
through  his  works  ;  much,  too,  may 
be  read  with  a  moral  purpose.     But 
from  the  point  of  view  of  eloquence 
his  style  is  corrupt,  and  the  more 
pernicious   because    he    abounds  in 
pleasant  faults.     One  could  wish  he 
had  used  his  own  talent  and  another 
person's  judgment.    For  had  he  de- 
spised some  modes  of  effect,  had  he 
not  striven  after  others  {partem),  if 
he  had  not  loved  all  that  was  his  own, 
if  he  had  not  broken  the  weight  of 
his  subjects  by  his  short  cut-up  sen- 
tences, he  would  be  approved  by  the 
consent  of  the  learned  rather  than  by 
the  enthusiasm  of  boys.    For  all  this, 
he  should  be  read,  but  only  by  those 
who  are  robust  and  well  prepared  by 
a  course  of  stricter  models  ;  and  for 
this  object,  to  exercise  their  judgment 
on  both  sides.      For  there  is  much 
that  is  good  in  him,  much  to  admire; 
only  it  requires  picking  out,  a  thing 
he  himself  ought  to  have  done.     A 
nature  which  could  always  achieve  its 
object  was  worthy  of  having  striven 
after  a  bettor  object  than  it  did." 


2d 


CHAPTER  VI 

Tin  Reigns  of  Vespasian,  Titus,  and  Domitian  (a.d  69-96^ 

2.  Poets. 

The  poet  is  usually  credited  with  a  genius  more  independent  ol 
external  circumstances  than  any  other  of  nature's  favourites.  His 
inspiration  is  more  creative,  more  unearthly,  more  constraining, 
more  unattainable  by  mere  effort.  He  seems  to  forget  the  world 
in  his  own  inner  sources  of  thought  and  feeling.  As  circum- 
tances  cannot  produce  him,  so  they  do  not  greatly  affect  his  genius. 
He  is  the  product  of  causes  as  yet  unknown  to  the  student  of 
human  progress ;  he  is  a  boon  for  which  the  age  that  has  him 
should  be  grateful,  a  sort  of  aerii  mellis  caelestia  dona.  Modern 
literature  is  full  of  this  conception.  The  poet  "  does  but  speak 
because  he  must ;  he  sings  but  as  the  linnets  sing."  Never  has 
the  sentiment  been  expressed  with  deeper  pathos  than  by  Shelley's 
well-known  lines : 

"  Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  the  light  of  thought, 
Singing  hymns  unbidden, 
Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathy  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not" 

The  idea  that  the  poet  can  neither  be  made  on  the  one  hand,  nor 
repressed  if  he  is  there,  on  the  other,  has  become  deeply  rooted  in 
modern  literary  thought.  And  yet  if  we  look  through  the  epochs 
that  have  been  most  fertile  of  great  poets,  the  instances  of  such 
self-sufficing  hardiness  are  rare.  In  Greek  poetry  we  question 
whether  there  is  one  to  be  found.  In  Latin  poetry  there  is  only 
Lucretius.  In  modern  times,  it  is  true,  they  are  more  numerous, 
owing  to  the  greater  complexity  of  our  social  conditions,  and  the 
greater  difficulty  for  a  strongly  sensuous  or  deeply  spiritual  poetio 
nature  to  be  in  harmony  with  them  all.  Putting  aside  these 
solitary  voices  we  should  say  on  the  whole  that  poetry,  at  least  in 
ancient  times,  was  the  tenderest  and  least  hardy  of  all  garden 
flowers.     It  needed,  so  to  say,  a  special  soil,  constant  care,  and 


REDUCED  SCOPE  OF  POETKY.  419 

shelter  from  the  rude  blast  It  could  blossom  only  in  the  summer 
of  patronage,  popular  or  imperial ;  the  storms  of  war  and  revolu- 
tion, and  the  chill  frost  of  despotism,  were  equally  fatal  to  ita 
tender  life*  Where  its  supports  were  strong  its  own  strength 
came  out,  and  that  with  such  luxuriance  as  to  hide  the  props 
which  lay  beneath;  but  when  once  the  inspiring  consciousness 
of  sympathy  and  aid  was  lost,  its  fair  head  drooped,  its  fragrance 
was  forgotten,  and  its  seeds  were  scattered  to  the  waste  of  air. 

If  Lucan's  claim  to  the  name  of  poet  be  disputed,  what  shall  we 
gay  to  the  so-called  poets  of  the  Flavian  age  1  to  Valerius  Flaccus, 
Silius,  Statius,  and  Martial  ?  In  one  sense  they  are  poets  certainly  ; 
they  have  a  thorough  mastery  over  the  form  of  their  art,  over  the 
hackneyed  themes  of  verse.  But  in  the  inspiration  that  makes 
the  bard,  in  the  grace  that  should  adorn  his  mind,  in  the  famili- 
arity with  noble  thoughts  which  lends  to  the  Pharsalia  an  undis- 
puted greatness,  they  are  one  and  all  absolutely  wanting.  Kone 
of  them  raise  in  the  reader  one  thrill  of  pleasure,  none  of  them 
add  one  single  idea  to  enrich  the  inheritance  of  mankind.  The 
works  of  Pliny  and  Quintilian  cannot  indeed  be  ranked  among 
the  masterpieces  of  literature.  But  in  elegant  greatness  they  are 
immeasurably  superior  to  the  works  of  their  brethren  of  the  lyre. 
Science  can  seek  a  refuge  in  the  contemplation  of  the  material 
universe ;  if  it  can  find  no  law  there,  no  justice,  no  wisdom,  no 
comfort,  it  at  least  bows  before  unchallenged  greatness.  Rhetoric 
can  solace  its  aspirations  in  a  noble  though  hopeless  effort  to 
rekindle  an  extinct  past.  Poetry,  that  should  point  the  way  to 
the  ideal,  that  should  bear  witness  if  not  to  goodness  at  least  to 
beauty  and  to  glory,  grovels  in  a  base  contentment  with  all 
that  is  meanest  and  shallowest  in  the  present,  and  owns  no 
source  of  inspiration  but  the  bidding  of  superior  force,  or  the 
insulting  bribe  of  a  despot's  minion  which  derides  in  secret  the 
very  flattery  it  buys. 

These  poets  need  not  detain  us  long.  There  is  little  to  interest 
ns  in  them,  and  they  are  of  little  importance  in  the  history  of 
literature.  The  first  of  them  is  C.  Valerius  Flaccus  Setinus 
Balbus.1  He  was  born  not,  as  his  name  would  indicate,  at  Setia, 
but  at  Patavium.2  We  gather  from  a  passage  in  his  poem3  that 
he  filled  the  oince  of  Quindecimvir  eacris  faciundis,  and  from 

1  In  the  single  ancient  codex  of  the  Vatican,  at  the  end  of  the  second  book 
we  read  C.  Val.  Fl.  Balbi  explicit,  Lib.  II.;  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  book, 
C.  Val.  FL  Sclini,  Lib.  IV.  explicit;  at  the  end  of  the  seventh,  G.  Val.  FL\ 
Setini  Argcmaaticon,  Lib.  VII.  explicit.  The  obscurity  of  these  names  haf 
caused  some  critics  to  doubt  whether  they  really  belonged  to  the  poet. 

8  Mart  L  61-4  8  L  5. 


420  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Quintilian1  that  he  was  cut  off  by  an  early  death.  The  date  of 
tnis  event  may  be  fixed  with  probability  to  the  year  88  A.D.1 
Dureau  de  la  Malle  has  disputed  this,  and  thinks  it  probable  that 
he  lived  until  the  reign  of  Trajan ;  but  this  is  in  itself  unlikely, 
and  inconsistent  with  the  obviously  unfinished  state  of  the  poem. 
The  legend  of  the  Argonauts  which  forms  its  subject  was  one  that 
had  already  been  treated  by  Varro  Atacinus  apparently  in  the 
form  of  an  imitation  or  translation  from  the  same  writer,  Adpol- 
lonius  Rhodius,  whom  Valerius  also  chose  as  his  modeL  But 
whereas  Varro 's  poem  was  little  more  than  a  free  translation,  that 
of  Valerius  is  an  amplification  and  study  from  the  original  of  a 
more  ambitious  character.  It  consists  of  eight  books,  of  which 
the  last  is  incomplete,  and  in  estimating  its  merits  or  demerits  we 
must  not  forget  the  immaturity  of  its  author's  talent. 

The  opening  dedication  to  Vespasian  fixes  its  composition 
under  his  reign.  Its  prcfane  flattery  is  in  the  usual  style  of  the 
period,  but  lacks  the  brilliancy,  the  audacity,  and  the  satire  of 
that  of  Lucan.  From  certain  allusions  it  is  probable  that  the 
poem  was  written  soon  after  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem  by  Titus3 
(a.d.  70).  There  is  considerable  learning  shown,  but  a  desire  to 
compress  allusions  into  a  small  space  and  to  suggest  trains  of 
mythological  recollection  by  passing  hints,  interfere  with  the 
lucidity  of  the  style.  In  other  respects  the  diction  is  classical 
and  elegant,  and  both  rhythm  and  language  are  closely  modelled 
on  those  of  Virgil.  Licences  of  versification  are  rare.  The  spon- 
daic line,  rarely  used  by  Ovid,  almost  discarded  by  Lucan,  but  which 
reappears  in  Statius,  is  sparingly  employed  by  Valerius.  Hiatus 
is  still  rarer,  but  the  shortening  of  final  o  occurs  in  verbs  and 
nominatives,  such  as  Juno,  Virgo,  whenever  it  suits  the  metre. 
His  speeches  are  rhetorical  but  not  extravagant,  some,  e.g.,  that  of 
Helle  to  Jason,  are  very  pretty.  In  descriptive  power  he  rises  to 
his  highest  level ;  some  of  his  subjects  are  extremely  vivid  and 
might  form  subjects  for  a  painting.4  During  the  time  that  he 
was  writing  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius  occurred,  and  he  hag 
described  it  with  the  zeal  of  a  witness.5 

"  Sic  ubi  prorupti  tonuit  cum  forte  Vesevi 
Hesperiae  letalis  apex;  vixdum  ignea  montem 
Torsit  liiems,  iamque  Eoas  cinis  induit  urbes." 

But  in  this,  a3  in  all  the  descriptive  pieces,  however  striking  and 

1  X.  i.  90.'  2  So  Dodwell,  Annal  QuintU.  *  i.  7,  sqq* 

4  E.g., of  Titus  storming  Jerusalem  (i.  13), 

"  Solymo  nigrantem  pulvere  fratem 
Sp  irgentemque  facus,  et  in  omni  torn  fure  litem." 

» iv.  503 ;  cf  iv.  210. 


SILIUS  ITALIC  US.  421 

elaborate,  of  the  period  of  the  decline,  are  prominently  visible  the 
strained  endeavour  to  be  emphatic,  and  the  continual  dependence 
upon  book  reminiscence  instead  of  first-hand  observation.  Valerius 
is  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Nor  is  the  next  author  who  presents 
himself  any  better  in  this  respect,  the  voluptuary  and  poetaster 
C.  Silius  Italicus. 

This  laborious  compiler  and  tasteless  versifier  was  born  25  A.D., 
or  according  to  some  24  a. d.,  and  died  by  his  own  act  seventy-six 
years  later.  He  is  known  to  us  as  a  copyist  of  Virgil ;  to  his  con- 
temporaries he  was  at  least  as  well  known  as  a  clever  orator  and 
luxurious  virtuoso.  His  early  fondness  for  Virgil's  poetry  may 
be  presumed  from  the  dedication  of  Cornutus's  treatise  on  that 
subject  to  him,  but  he  soon  deserted  literature  for  public  life,  in 
which  (68  a.d.)  he  attained  the  highest  success  by  being  nomi- 
nated consul.  He  had  been  a  personal  friend  of  Vitellius  and  of 
Nero ;  but  now,  satisfied  with  his  achievements,  he  settled  down 
on  his  estates,  and  composed  his  poem  on  the  Punic  Wars  in 
sixteen  books.  Most  of  the  information  we  possess  about  him  is 
gathered  from  the  letter1  in  which  Pliny  narrates  his  death.  "We 
translate  the  most  striking  passages  for  the  reader's  benefit 

14 1  have  just  heard  that  Silius  has  closed  his  life  in  his  Neapolitan  villa  by 
voluntary  abstinence.  The  cause  of  his  preferring  to  die  was  ill- health.  He 
suffered  from  an  incurable  tumour,  the  trouble  arising  from  which  deter- 
mined him  with  singular  resolution  to  seek  death  as  a  relief.  His  whole  life 
had  been  unvaryingly  fortunate,  except  that  he  had  lost  the  younger  of  his  two 
sons.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had  lived  to  see  his  elder  and  more  promising 
son  succeed  in  life  and  obtain  the  consulship.  He  had  injured  his  reputation 
under  Nero.  It  was  believed  he  had  acted  as  an  informer.  But  after- 
wards, while  enjoying  Yitellius's  friendship,  he  had  conducted  himself  with 
courtesy  and  prudence.  He  had  gained  much  credit  by  his  proeonsulship 
in  Asia,  and  had  since  by  an  honourable  leisure  wiped  out  the  blot  which 
stained  the  activity  of  his  former  years.  He  ranked  among  the  first  men  in 
the  state,  but  he  neither  retained  power  nor  excited  envy.  He  was  saluted, 
courted  ;  he  received  levees  often  in  his  bed,  always  in  his  chamber,  which 
was  crowded  with  visitors,  who  came  attracted  by  no  considerations  of  his 
fortune.  When  net  occupied  with  writing,  he  passed  his  days  in  learned 
discourse.  His  poems  evince  more  diligence  than  talent:  he  now  and  then 
by  reeiting  challenged  men's  opinions  upon  them.  Latterly,  owing  to  ad- 
vancing years,  he  retired  from  Rome  and  remained  in  Campania,  nor  did 
even  the  accession  of  a  new  emperor  draw  him  forth.  To  allow  this  in- 
activity was  most  liberal  on  the  emperor's  part,  to  have  the  courage  to 
accept  it  was  equally  honourable  to  Silius.  He  was  a  virtuoso,  and  was  even 
b'amed  for  his  propensities  for  collecting.  He  owned  several  country-houses 
in  tht^  same  district,  and  was  always  so  taken  with  each  new  house  he  pur- 
chased ae  to  neglect  the  old  for  it.  All  of  them  were  well  stocked  with 
books,  st.ttues,  and  busts  of  great  men.  These  last  he  not  only  treasured  but 
levered,  above  all,  that  of  Virgil,  whose  birthday  he  kept  more  religiously 

1  Ep.  III.  7 


422  HISTOKY  OF  ROMAN  LITEBATUEE. 

than  his  own.  He  preferred  celebrating  it  at  Naples,  where  he  visited  ilu 
poet's  tomb  as  if  it  had  been  a  temple.  Amid  such  complete  tranquillity  hf 
passed  his  seventy-fifth  year,  not  exactly  weak  in  body,  but  delicate." 

To  tliis  notice  of  Pliny's  we  might  add  several  by  Martial; 
but  as  these  refer  to  the  same  facts,  adding  beside  only  fulsome 
praises  of  the  wealthy  and  dignified  litterateur,  they  need  not  be 
quoted  here.  Quintilian  does  not  mention  him.  But  his  silence 
is  no  token  of  disrespect ;  it  is  merely  an  indication  that  Silius 
was  still  alive  when  the  great  critic  wrote. 

There  is  little  that  calls  for  remark  in  his  long  and  tedious 
work.  He  is  a  poet  only  by  memory.  Timid  and  nerveless,  he 
lacks  alike  the  vigorous  beauties  of  the  earlier  school,  and  the 
vigorous  faults  of  the  later.  He  pieces  together  in  the  straggling 
mosaic  of  his  poem  hemistichs  from  his  contemporaries,  fragments 
from  Livy,  words,  thoughts,  epithets,  and  rhythms  from  Virgil ; 
and  he  elaborates  the  whole  with  a  pre-Eaphaelite  fidelity  to 
details  which  completely  destroys  whatever  unity  the  subject 
suggested. 

This  subject  is  not  in  itself  a  bad  one,  but  the  treatment  he 
applies  to  it  is  unreal  and  insipid  in  the  highest  degree.  He 
cannot  perceive,  for  instance,  that  the  divine  interventions  which 
are  admissible  in  the  quarrel  of  Aeneas  and  Turnus  are  ludicrous 
when  imported  -into  the  struggle  between  Scipio  and  HannibaL 
And  this  inconsistency  is  the  more  glaring,  since  his  extreme 
historical  accuracy  (an  accuracy  so  strict  as  to  make  Niebuhr 
declare  a  knowledge  of  him  indispensable  to  the  student  of  the 
Punic  Wars)  gives  to  his  chronicle  a  prosaic  literalness  from  which 
nothing  is  more  alien  than  the  caprices  of  an  imaginary  pantheon. 
Who  can  help  resenting  the  unreality,  when  at  Saguntum  Jupiter 
guides  an  arrow  into  Hannibal's  body,  which  Juno  immediately 
withdraws  1 *  or  when,  at  Cannae,  Aeolus  yields  to  the  prayer  of 
Juno  and  blinds  the  Eomans  by  a  whirlwind  of  dust  1 2  These 
are  two  out  of  innumerable  similar  instances.  Amid  such  in- 
congruities it  is  no  wonder  if  the  heroes  themselves  lose  all  body 
and  consistency,  so  that  Scipio  turns  into  a  kind  of  Paladin,  and 
Hannibal  into  a  monster  of  cruelty,  whom  we  should  not  be  sur> 
prised  to  see  devouring  children.  Silius  in  poetry  represents,  on 
s  reduced  scale,  the  same  reactionary  sentiments  that  in  prose 
animated  Quintilian.  So  far  he  is  to  be  commended.  But  if  we 
must  choose  a  companion  among  the  Flavian  poets,  let  it  b« 
Statius  with  all  his  faults,  rather  than  this  correct,  only  because 
tompletely  talentless,  compiler. 

1  Ren.  L  536.  *  ix.  4«L 


STATIUS.  423 

To  bim  let  us  now  turn.  With  filial  pride  he  attributes  his 
eminence  to  the  example  and  instruction  of  his  father,  P.  Papinius 
Statius,  who  was,  if  we  may  believe  his  son,  a  distinguished  and 
extremely  successful  poet.1  He  was  born  either  at  Naples  or  at 
Selle;  and  the  doubt  hanging  over  this  point  neither  the  father  noi 
the  son  had  any  desire  to  clear  up ;  for  did  not  the  same  ambiguity 
attach  to  the  birthplace  of  Homer  1  At  any  rate  he  established 
himself  at  Naples  as  a  young  man,  and  opened  a  school  for 
rhetoric  and  poetry,  engaging  in  the  quinquennial  contests  him» 
self,  and  training  his  pupils  to  do  the  same.  It  is  not  certain 
that  he  ever  settled  at  Rome ;  his  modest  ambition  seems  to  have 
been  content  with  provincial  celebrity.  What  the  subjects  of  his 
prize  poetry  were  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining,  but  we  know 
that  he  wrote  a  short  epic  on  the  wars  between  Vespasian  and 
Vitellius  and  contemplated  writing  anothor  on  the  eruption  of 
Vesuvius.  His  more  celebrated  son,  P.  Papinius  Statius  the 
younger,  was  born  at  Naples  61  a.d.,  and  before  his  father's  death 
had  carried  off  the  victory  in  the  Neapolitan  poetical  games  by  a 
poem  in  honour  of  Ceres.2  Shortly  after  this  he  returned  to 
Rome,  where  it  is  probable  he  had  been  educated  as  a  boy,  and 
in  his  twenty-first  year  married  a  young  widow  named  Claudia 
(whose  former  husband  seems  to  have  been  a  singer  or  harpist),3 
and  their  mutual  attachment  is  a  pleasing  testimony  to  the  poet's 
goodness  of  heart,  a  quality  which  the  habitual  exaggeration  of 
his  manner  ineffectually  tries  to  eonceaL 

Domitian  had  instituted  a  yearly  poetical  contest  at  the  Quin- 
quatria,  in  honour  of  Minerva,  held  on  the  Alban  Mount.  Statius 
was  fortunate  enough  on  three  separate  occasions  to  win  the  prize, 
his  subject  being  in  each  case  the  praises  of  Domitian  himself.4 
But  at  the  great  quinquennial  Capitoline  contest,  in  which  ap- 
parently the  subject  was  the  praises  of  Jupiter,5  Statius  was  not 
equally  successful9  This  defeat,  which  he  bewails  in  more  than 
one  passage,  was  a  disappointment  he  never  quite  overcame, 
though  some  critics  have  inferred  from  another  passage  7  that  on 
a  subsequent  occasion  he  came  off  victor;  but  this  cannot  be 
proved.8 

Statius  had  something  of  the  true  poet  in  him.  He  had  the 
love  of  nature  and  of  those  "  cheap  pleasures "  of  which  Hume 

1  See  SilT.  V.  iii.  passim.     This  poem  is  a  good  instance  of  an  epicedion. 
•lb.  II.  ii.  6.  8Ib.  III.  v.  52. 

«  lb.  III.  v.  28  ;  cf.  IV.  ii  65.  6  Quint.  III.  vii.  4. 

•lb.  III.  \  31.  7  Sily.  IV.  ii.  65. 

8  For  a  brilliant  and  interesting  essay  on  the  two  Statii.  the  reader  it  r» 
ferred  to  Nisard,  Pontes  de  la  Decadence,  vol.  I.  p.  303. 


124  HISTOKY  OP  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

writes,  the  pleasures  of  flowers,  birds,  trees,  fresh  air,  a  country 
landscape,  a  blue  sky.  These  could  not  be  had  at  Rome  for  aO 
the  favours  of  the  emperor.  Statius  pined  for  a  simpler  life. 
He  wished  also  to  provide  for  his  step-daughter,  whom  he  dearly 
loved,  and  whose  engaging  beauty  while  occupied  in  reciting  her 
father's  poems,  or  singing  them  to  the  music  of  the  harp,  he 
finely  describes.  Perhaps  at  Naples  a  husband  could  be  found 
for  her?  So  to  Naples  he  went,  and  there  in  quiet  retirement 
passed  the  short  remainder  of  his  days,  finishing  his  opus  magnum 
the  Thebaidy  and  writing  the  fragment  that  remains  of  his  still 
more  ambitious  Achilleid.  The  year  of  his  death  is  not  certain, 
but  it  may  be  placed  with  some  probability  in  98  a.d. 

Statius  was  not  merely  a  brilliant  poet.  He  was  a  still  more 
brilliant  improvisator.  Often  he  would  pour  forth  to  enthu- 
siastic listeners,  as  Ovid  had  done  before  him, 

"  His  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art." 

Improvisation  had  long  been  cultivated  among  the  Greeks.  "We 
know  from  Cicero's  oration  on  behalf  of  Archias  that  it  was  no 
rare  accomplishment  among  the  wits  of  that  nation.  And  it  was 
not  unknown  among  the  Romans,  though  with  them  also  it  was 
more  commonly  exercised  in  Greek  than  in  Latin.  The  techni- 
calities of  versification  had,  since  Ovid,  ceased  to  involve  any 
labour.  Not  an  aspirant  of  any  ambition  but  was  familiar  with 
every  page  of  the  Gradus  ad  Pamassum,  and  could  lay  it  under 
contribution  at  a  moment's  notice.  Hence  to  write  fluent  verses 
was  no  merit  at  all;  to  write  epigrammatic  verses  was  worth 
doing;  but  to  extemporize  a  poem  of  from  one  to  two  hundred  lines, 
of  which  every  line  should  display  a  neat  turn  or  a  bon  mot,  this 
was  the  most  deeply  coveted  gift  of  all ;  and  it  was  the  possession 
of  this  gift  in  its  most  seductive  form  that  gave  Statius  unques- 
tioned, though  not  unenvied,  pre-eminence  among  the  beaux  esprits 
of  his  day.  His  Silvae,  which  are  trifles,  but  very  charming  ones, 
were  most  of  them  written  within  twenty-four  hours  after  theii 
subjects  had  been  suggested  to  him.  Their  elegant  polish  is 
undeniable ;  the  worst  feature  about  them  is  the  base  complai* 
ance  with  which  this  versatile  flatterer  wrote  to  order,  without 
asking  any  questions,  whatever  the  eunuchs,  pleasure-purveyors, 
or  freedmen  of  the  emperor  desired.  They  are  full  of  interest  also 
as  throwing  light  on  the  manners  and  fashions  of  the  time  and 
disclosing  the  frivolities  which  in  the  minds  of  all  the  members  of 
the  court  had  quite  put  out  of  sight  the  serious  objects  of  lifa 
They  contain  many  notices  of  the  poet  and  his  friends,  and  we 
Itearn  that  when  they  were  composed  he  was  at  work  on  th« 


THE  RECITATIONS.  425 

Thebaid.  He  excuses  these  short  jeux  dy  esprit  hy  alleging  tht 
example  of  Homer's  Battle  of  the  Frogs  and  Mice  and  Virgil's 
Culex.  "  I  hardly  know,"  he  says,  "  of  one  illustrious  poet  who 
has  not  prefaced  his  nobler  triumphs  of  song  by  some  prelude  in  a 
lighter  strain." x  The  short  prose  introductions  in  which  he  de- 
scribes the  poems  that  compose  each  book  are  well  worth  reading. 
The  first  book  is  addressed  to  his  friend  Arruntius  Stella,  who 
was,  if  we  may  believe  Statius  and  Martial,  himself  no  mean 
poet,  and  in  his  little  Columba,  an  ode  addressed  to  his  mistress's 
dove,  rivalled,  if  he  did  not  surpass,  the  famous  "  sparrow-poem  n 
of  Catullus.  He  wrote  also  several  other  love  poems,  and  per- 
haps essayed  a  heroic  flight  in  celebrating  the  Sarmatian  victories 
of  Domitian.2 

The  Silvae  were  for  the  most  part  read  or  recited  in  public. 
"We  saw  in  a  former  chapter  3  that  Asinius  Pollio  first  introduced 
these  readings.  His  object  in  doing  so  is  uncertain.  It  may 
have  been  to  solace  himself  for  the  loss  of  a  political  career,  or  it 
may  have  been  a  device  for  ascertaining  the  value  of  new  works 
before  granting  them  a  place  in  his  public  library.  The  recita- 
tions thus  served  the  purpose  of  the  modern  reviews.  They 
affixed  to  each  new  work  the  critic's  verdict,  and  assigned  to  it 
its  place  among  the  list  of  candidates  for  fame.  No  sooner  was 
the  practice  introduced  than  it  became  popular.  Horace  already 
complains  of  it,  and  declares  that  he  will  not  indulge  it :  4 

*'  Non  recito  cuiquam  nisi  amicis,  idque  coactus, 
Non  ubivis  coramve  quibuslibet." 

He  with  greater  wisdom  read  his  poems  to  some  single  friend  whose 
judgment  and  candour  he  could  trust — some  Quinctilius  Varus, 
or  Maecius  Tarpa — and  he  advised  his  friends  the  Pisos  to  do  the 
same ;  but  his  advice  was  little  heeded.  Even  during  his  lifetime 
the  vain  thirst  for  applause  tempted  many  an  author  to  submit 
hi3  compositions  to  the  hasty  judgment  of  a  fashionable  assembly, 
and  (fond  hope  !)  to  promise  himself  an  immortality  proportioned 
to  their  compliments.  Ovid's  muse  drew  her  fullest  inspiration 
from  the  excitements  of  the  hall,  and  the  poet  bitterly  complains 
in  exile  that  now  this  stimulus  to  effort  is  withdrawn  he  has  lost 
the  power  and  even  the  desire  to  write.5  Nor  was  it  only  poetry 
that  was  thus  criticised;  grave  historians  read  their  works  before 
publishing  them,  and  it  is  related  of  Claudius  that  on  hearing  the 
thunders  of  applause  which  were  bestowed  on  the  recitations  of 

1  The  hfth  book  is  unfinished.  Probably  be  did  not  care  to  recur  to  it 
after  leaving  Rome. 

1  Silv.  I.  ii.  95.  *  Book  II.  part  II.  ch.  i. 

♦Sat.  I.  iv.  73.  »Pont.  IV.  ii.  34;  Trist.     II.  xiv.  39. 


426  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

Servilius  Nonianus,  he  entered  the  building  and  seated  himseH 
uninvited  among  the  enthusiastic  listeners.  Under  Nero,  the 
readings,  which  had  hitherto  been  a  custom,  became  a  law,  that  ia, 
were  upheld  by  legal  no  less  than  social  obligations.  The  same  if 
true  of  Domitian's  reign.  This  ill-educated  prince  wished  to  feign 
an  interest  in  literature,  the  more  so,  since  Nero,  whom  he  imitated, 
had  really  been  its  eager  votary.  Accordingly,  he  patronised  the 
readings  of  the  principal  poets,  and  above  all,  of  Statius.  This  was 
the  golden  time  of  recitation?,  or  ostentationes,  as  they  now  with 
sarcastic  justice  began  to  be  called,  and  Statius  was  their  chief 
hero.  As  Juvenal  tells  us,  he  made  the  whole  city  glad  when  he 
promised  a  day.1  His  recitations  were  often  held  at  the  houses  of 
his  great  friends,  men  like  Abascantius  or  Glabrio,  adventurers  of 
yesterday,  who  had  come  to  Rome  with  "  chalked  feet,"  and  now 
had  been  raised  by  Caesar  to  a  height  whence  they  looked  with 
scorn  upon  the  scattered  relics  of  nobility.  It  is  these  men  that 
Statius  so  adroitly  natters ;  it  is  to  them  that  he  looks  for  counte- 
nance, for  patronage,  for  more  substantial  rewards;  and  yet  so 
wretched  is  the  recompense  even  of  the  highest  popularity,  that 
Statius  would  have  to  beg  his  bread  if  he  did  not  find  a  better 
employer  in  the  actor  and  manager,  Paris,  who  pays  him  hand- 
somely for  the  tragedies  that  at  each  successive  exhaustion  of  his 
exchequer  he  is  fain  to  write  for  the  taste  of  a  corrupt  mob.2  But 
at  last  Statius  began  to  see  the  folly  of  all  this.  He  grew  tired  of 
hiring  himself  out  to  amuse,  of  practising  the  affectation  of  a 
modesty,  an  inspiration,  an  emotion  he  did  not  feel,  of  hearing  the 
false  plaudits  of  rivals  who  he  knew  carped  at  his  verses  in  his 
absence  and  libelled  his  character,  of  running  hither  and  thither 
over  Parnassus  dragging  his  poor  muse  at  the  heels  of  some  selfish 
freedman ;  he  was  man  enough  and  poet  enough  to  wish  to  write 
something  that  would  live,  and  so  he  left  Rome  to  con  over  his 
mythological  erudition  amid  a  less  exciting  environment,  and  woo 
the  genius  of  poesy  where  its  last  great  master  had  been  laid  to 
rest. 

After  Statius  had  left  Rome,  the  popularity  of  the  recitations 
gradually  decreased.  No  poet  of  equal  attractiveness  was  left  to 
hold  them.  So  the  ennui  and  disgust,  which  had  perhaps  long 
been  smothered,  now  burst  forth.  Many  people  refused  to  attend 
altogether.  They  sent  their  servants,  parasites,  or  hired  applauders, 
while  they  themselves  strolled  in  the  public  squares  or  spent  the 
hours  in  the  bath,  and  only  lounged  into  the  room  at  the  close  of  the 
performance.      Their  indifference  at  last  rejected   all   disguise; 

1  Laetara  fecit  cum  Statius  Urbem  Promisitque  diem,  Juv.  vii  86. 
f  Esurit  intactam  Paridi  nisi  vendit  Agaven,  Juv.  ib. 


THE  THEBAID.  427 

absence  became  the  rule.  Even  Trajan's  assiduous  attendance  could 
hardly  bring  a  scanty  and  listless  concourse  to  the  once  crowded 
halls.  Pliny  the  younger,  who  was  a  finished  reciter,  grievously 
complains  of  the  incivility  shown  to  deserving  poets.  Instead  of 
the  loud  cries,  the  uneasy  motions  that  had  attested  the  excitement 
of  the  hearers,  nothing  is  heard  but  yawns  or  shuffling  of  the  feet; 
a  dead  silence  prevails.  Even  Pliny's  gay  spirits  and  cheerful 
vanity  were  not  proof  against  such  a  reception.  The  "little 
grumblings  "  (indignatiunculae),  of  which  his  letters  are  full,  attest 
how  sorely  he  felt  the  decline  of  a  fashion  in  which  he  was  so 
eminently  fitted  to  excel.  And  if  a  wealthy  noble  patronised  by 
the  emperor  thus  complains,  how  intolerable  must  have  been  the 
disappointment  to  the  poet  whose  bread  depended  on  his  verses, 
the  poet  depicted  by  Juvenal,  to  whom  the  patron  graciously  lends 
a  house,  ricketty  and  barred  up,  lying  at  a  distance  from  town,  and 
lays  on  him  the  ruinous  expense  of  carriage  for  benches  and  stalls, 
which  after  all  are  only  half -filled  ! 

The  frenzy  of  public  readings,  then,  was  over ;  but  Statius  had 
learned  his  style  in  their  midst,  and  country  retirement  could  not 
change  it.  The  whole  of  his  brilliant  epic  savours  of  the  lecture 
room.  The  verbal  conceits,  the  florid  ornament,  the  sparkling  but 
quite  untranslatable  epigrams  which  enliven  every  description  and 
give  point  to  every  speech,  need  only  be  noted  in  passing ;  for  no 
reader  of  a  single  book  of  the  Thebaid  can  fail  to  mark  them. 

This  poem,  which  is  admitted  by  Merivale  to  be  faultless  in  epic 
execution,  and  has  been  glorified  by  the  admiration  of  Dante, 
occupied  the  author  twelve  years  in  the  composing,1  probably  from 
80  to  92  a.d.  Its  elaborate  finish  bears  testimony  to  the  labour 
expended  on  it.  Had  Statius  been  content  with  trifles  such  as  are 
sketched  in  the  Silvae  he  might  have  been  to  this  day  a  favourite 
and  widely-read  poet.  As  it  is,  the  minute  beauties  of  his  epic  lie 
buried  in  such  a  wilderness  of  unattractive  learning  and  second- 
hand mythological  reminiscence,  that  few  care  to  seek  them  out. 
His  mastery  over  the  epic  machinery  is  complete;  but  he  fails  not 
only  in  the  ardour  of  the  bard,  but  in  the  vigour  of  the  mere 
narrator.  His  action  drags  heavily  through  the  first  ten  books, 
and  then  is  summarily  finished  in  the  last  two,  the  accession  of 
Creon  after  Oedipus's  exile,  his  prohibition  to  bury  Polynices,  the 
interference  of  Theseus,  and  the  death  of  Creon  being  all  dismissed 
in  fifteen  hundred  lines. 

The  two  most  striking  features  in  the  poem  are  the  description! 
oi  battles  and  the  similes.     The  former  are  greatly  superior  to  thost 

1  Bis  tenos  vigilata  per  annos,  Theb.  xii.  811. 


428  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

of  Lucan  or  Silius.  They  have  not  the  hideous  combination  of 
horrors  of  the  one,  nor  the  shadowy  unreality  of  the  other. 
Though  hatched  in  the  closet  and  not  on  the  battle-field,  a  defect 
they  share  with  all  poets  from  Virgil  downwards,  they  have 
sufficient  verisimilitude  to  interest,  and  not  sufficient  reality  to 
shock  us.  The  similes  merit  still  higher  praise.  The  genius  of 
Latin  poetry  was  fast  tending  towards  the  epigram,  and  these 
similes  are  strictly  epigrammatic.  The  artificial  brevity  which 
suggests  many  different  lines  of  reminiscence  at  the  same  time  ia 
exhibited  with  marked  success.  As  the  simile  was  so  assiduously 
cultivated  by  the  Latin  epicists  and  forms  a  distinctive  feature  of 
their  style,  we  shall  give  in  the  appendix  to  this  chapter  a  com- 
parative table  of  the  more  important  similes  of  the  three  chief  epic 
poets.  At  present  we  shall  quote  only  two  from  the  Thehaid, 
both  admirable  in  their  way,  and  each  exemplifying  one  of  Statius'a 
prominent  faults  or  virtues.  The  first  compares  an  army  following 
its  general  across  a  river  to  a  herd  of  cattle  following  the  leading 
bull:1 

"Ac  velut  ignotum  si  quando  armenta  per  amnem 
Pastor  agit,  stat  triste  pecus,  procul  altera  tellus* 
Omnibus,  et  late  medius  timor :  ast  ubi  ductor 
Taurus  init  fecitque  vadum,  tunc  mollior  unda, 
Tunc  faciles  saltus,  visaeque  accedeie  vipae." 

This  is  elegant  in  style  but  full  of  ambiguities,  if  not  experi- 
ments, in  language.  The  words  in  italics  are  an  exaggerated 
imitation  of  a  mode  of  expression  to  which  Virgil  is  prone,  i.e.,  a 
psychological  indication  of  an  effect  made  to  stand  for  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  thing.  Then  as  to  the  three  forced  expressions  of  the 
last  two  lines — to  say  nothing  of  fecit  vadum,  which  may  be  a 
pastoral  term,  as  we  say  made  the  ford,  i.e.  struck  it — we  have 
the  epithet  mollior,  which,  here  again  in  caricature  of  Virgil, 
mixes  feeling  with  description,  used  for  facilior  in  the  sense  of 
"  kinder,"  "  more  obliging"  (for  he  can  hardly  mean  that  it  feels 
softer) ;  faciles  saltus,  either  the  "  leap  across  seems  easier,"  or 
perhaps  "  the  woods  on  the  other  side  look  less  frowning ;"  while 
to  add  to  the  hyperbole,  "  the  bank  appears  to  come  near  and  meet 
them."  Three  subtle  combinations  are  thus  expended  where 
Virgil  would  have  used  one  simple  one. 

The  next  simile  exemplifies  the  use  of  hyperbole  at  its  happiest, 
an  ornament,  by  the  way,  to  which  Statius  is  specially  prone.  It 
is  a  very  short  one.3  It  compares  an  infant  to  the  babe  Apollo 
crawling  on  the  shore  of  Dclos : 

1  Theb.  vii.  435,  quoted  by  Nisard.  f  "The  land  on  the  other  side.* 

*  The  reader  is  referred  to  an  article  on  the  later  Roman  epos  by  Coning' 
ton,  Posthumous  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  348. 


STATIUS'S  SIMILES.  428 


<t 


Talis  per  litora  rcptans 
Improbus  Ortygiae  latus  inclinabat  Apollo." 

Tills  is  delightful.  The  mischievous  little  god  crawls  near  ths 
edge  of  the  island,  and  "by  his  divine  weight  nearly  overturns  it  1 
We  should  observe  the  gross  materialism  of  idea  which  underlies 
this  pretty  picture.  Not  one  of  the  Roman  poets  is  free  from  this 
taint.  To  take  a  well-known  instance  from  Virgil ;  when  Aeneas 
gets  into  Charon's  boat 

"  Gemnit  sub  pondere  cymba 
Sutilis  et  multam  accepit  rimosa  paludem."1 

The  effect  of  the  "Ingens  Aeneas"  "bursting  Charon's  crazy  skiff  ia 

decidedly  grotesque.     Lucan  has  not  failed  to  seize  and  exaggerate 

this  peculiarity.     To  repeat  the  example  we  have  already  noticed 

in  the  first  hook,2  when  asking  Nero  which  part  of  heaven  he  is 

selecting  for  his  abode,  he  prays  him  not  to  choose  one  far  removed 

from  the  centre,  lest  his  vast  weight  should  disturb  the  balance  of 

the  universe ! 

"  Aetheris  immensi  partem  si  presseris  imam 
Sentiet  axis  onus." 

Statius,  as  we  have  seen,  adds  the  one  element  that  was  wanting, 

namely  the  abstraction  of  the  heroic  altogether ;  nevertheless,  in 

small  effects  of  this  kind,  he  must  he  pronounced  superior  to  both 

"Virgil  and  Lucan. 

The  Achilleis  is  a  mere  fragment,  no  doubt  left  as  such  owing 

to  the  author's  early  death.     The  design,  of  which  it  was  the  first 

instalment,  wTas  even  more  ambitious  than  that  of  the  Thebaid. 

It  aimed  at  nothing  less  than  an  exhaustive  treatment  of  all  the 

legends  of  which  Achilles  was  the  hero,  excepting  those  which 

form  the  subject  of  the  Iliad.    Its  style  shows  a  slight  advance  on 

that  of  the  earlier  poem ;   it  is  equally  long-winded,    but    less 

bombastic,  and  consequently  somewhat  more  natural.     In  one  or 

two  passages  Statius3  promises  Domitian  an  epic  celebrating  his 

deeds,  but  probably  he  never  bad  any  serious  intention  of  fulfilling 

his  word.     Statius  had  a  high  opinion  of  his  own  merits,  especially 

when  he  compared  himself  with  the  poet  fraternity  of  his  day ; 

but  bis  careful  study  of  Homer  and  Virgil  had  shown  him  that 

there  was  a  domain  into  which  he  could  not  enter,  and  so  even 

while  vaunting  his  claims  to  immortality,  he  is  careful  not  to 

aspire  to  be  ranked  with  tbe  poet  of  the  Acneld  :4 

"  Nee  tu  divinam  Aeneida  tenta  : 
Sed  longe  sequere  et  vestig  a  semper  adora." 

Valerius  Martialis  was  born  at  Bilbilis,  in  Hispania  Tarra 

1  Aen.  vi.  413.  a  Phars.  i.  56. 

1  Theb.  i.  17  ;  Ach.  i  10.  ♦  Theb.  xii.  815. 


430  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERA'J  ITRE. 

conensis  (March.  1,  43  a.d.),  and  retained  through  life  an  affeo. 
tionate  admiration  for  the  place  of  his  birth,  which  he  celebrate! 
in  numerous  poems.1  At  twenty-two2  years  of  age  he  came  to 
Rome,  Nero  being  then  on  the  throne.  He  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  known  to  that  emperor,  but  rose  into  great  favour  with 
Titus,  which  was  continued  under  Domitian,  who  conferred  on 
him  the  Jus  trium  Uberorum3  and  the  tribunate,  together  with 
the  rank  of  a  Roman  knight,4  and  a  pension  from  the  imperial 
treasury,5  probably  attached  to  the  position  of  court  poet.  It  is 
difficult  to  ascertain  the  truth  as  to  his  circumstances.  The  fact* 
above  mentioned,  as  well  as  his  possession  of  a  house  in  the  city 
and  a  villa  at  Momentum,6  would  point  to  an  easy  competence ; 
on  the  other  hand  the  poet's  continual  complaints  of  poverty  7  prove 
that  he  was  either  less  wealthy  than  his  titles  suggest,  or  else  that 
he  was  hard  to  satisfy.  On  the  accession  of  Trajan  he  seems  to 
have  left  Rome  for  Spain,  it  is  said  because  the  emperor  refused 
to  recognise  his  genius ;  but  as  he  had  been  a  prominent  authoi 
for  upwards  of  thirty  years,  it  is  likely  that  his  character,  not  his 
talent,  was  what  Trajan  looked  coldly  on,  A  poet  who  had  prosti- 
tuted his  pen  in  a  way  unexampled  even  among  the  needy  and 
immoral  pickers-up  of  chance  crumbs  that  crowded  the  avenues  of 
the  palace,  could  hardly  be  acceptable  to  a  prince  of  manly  char- 
acter. At  the  same  time  there  is  this  excuse  for  Martial,  that 
he  did  not  belong  to  the  old  families  of  Rome.  He  and  such  as 
he  owed  everything  to  the  emperor's  bounty,  and  if  the  emperor 
desired  flattery  in  return,  it  cost  them  little  pains  and  still  less  loss 
of  self-respect  to  give  it.  Politics  had  become  entirely  a  system  of 
palace  intrigue.  Only  when  the  army  intervened  was  any  general 
interest  awakened.  The  supremacy  of  the  emperor's  person  was 
the  one  great  fact,  rapidly  becoming  a  great  inherited  idea,  which 
formed  the  point  of  union  among  the  diverse  non-political  classes, 
and  gave  the  poets  their  chief  theme  of  inspiration.  It  mattered 
not  to  them  whether  their  lord  was  good  or  bad.  It  is  well- 
known  that  the  people  liked  Domitian,  and  it  was  only  by  the 
firmness  of  the  senate  that  he  was  prevented  from  being  formally 
proclaimed  as  a  god.  Martial  does  not  pretend  to  be  above  the 
level  of  conduct  whicli  he  saw  practised  by  emperor  and  people 
alike.     "Without  strength  of  character,  without  independence  of 

1  As  i  49,  3  ;  iv.  55,  11,  fee. 

*  In  x.  24,  4,  he  tells  us  he  is  fifty-six  ;  in  x.  104,  9,  written  at  Rome,  ha 
■ays  he  has  been  away  from  Bilbilis  34  years.  In  xii.  31,  7,  he  says  hi# 
entire  absence  lasted  35  years.     Now  this  was  written  in  100  a.d. 

*  iii.  94.  *  v.  13.  •  Nisard,  p.  887. 
9  vii.  86.                            »  L  77,  *c 


MARTIAL.  431 

thought,  "both  of  which  indeed  were  almost  extinct  at  this  epoch, 
his  one  object  was  to  ingratiate  himself  with  those  who  could  fil] 
his  purse.  Hence  the  indifference  he  shows  to  the  vices  of  Nero. 
Juvenal,  Tacitus,  and  Pliny  use  a  very  different  language.  But 
then  they  represented  the  old-fashioned  ideas  of  Eome.  Martial, 
indeed,  alludes  to  Nero  as  a  well-known  type  of  crime:1 

"  Quid  Nerone  peius  ? 
Quid  thermis  melius  Neronianis  t 

but  he  has  no  real  passion.  The  only  thing  he  really  hates  him 
for  is  his  having  slain  Lucan.2 

Martial,  then,  is  much  on  a  level  with  the  society  in  which  he 
finds  himself ;  the  society,  that  is,  of  those  very  freedmen, 
favourites,  actors,  dancers,  and  needy  bards,  that  Juvenal  has 
made  the  objects  of  his  satire.  And  therefore  we  cannot  expect 
him  to  rise  into  lofty  enthusiasm  or  pure  views  of  conduct.  His 
poems  are  a  most  valuable  adjunct  to  those  of  Juvenal ;  for  per- 
haps, if  we  did  not  possess  Martial,  we  might  fancy  that  the 
former's  sardonic  bitterness  had  over-coloured  his  picture.  As  it 
is,  these  two  friends  illustrate  and  confirm  each  other's  state- 
ments. 

Little  as  his  conduct  agrees  with  the  respectability  of  a  married 
man,  Martial  was  married  twice.  His  first  wife  was  Cleopatra,3 
of  whose  morose  temper  he  complains,4  and  from  whom  he  was 
divorced5  soon  after  obtaining  the  Jus  trium  liberorurn.  His 
second  was  Marcella,  whom  he  married  after  his  return  to  Spain.6 
Of  her  he  speaks  with  respect  and  even  admiration.7  It  is  pos- 
sible that  his  town  house  and  country  estate  were  part  of  his  first 
wife's  dowry,  so  that  on  his  divorce  they  reverted  to  her  family; 
this  would  account  for  the  otherwise  inexplicable  poverty  in 
which  he  so  often  declares  himself  to  be  plunged.  While  at 
Eome  he  had  many  patrons.  Besides  Domitian,  he  numbered 
Silius  Italicus,  Pliny,  Stella  the  friend  of  Statius,  Eegulus  the 
famous  pleader,  Parthenius,  Crispinus,  and  Glabrio,  among  his 
influential  friends.  It  is  curious  that  he  never  mentions  Statius. 
The  most  probable  reason  for  his  silence  is  the  old  one,  given  hy 
Hesiod,  but  not  yet  obsolete : 

ical  Kcpafjitvs  Kfpapf?  kotcci  koI  aoitibs  iotSy. 

He  and  Statius  were  indisputably  the  chief  poets  of  the  day.  One 
or  other  must  hold  the  first  place.  We  have  no  means  of  know- 
ing how  this  quarrel,  if  quarrel  it  was,  arose.     Among  Martial's 

*  Tii.  34.  *  vii.  21.  «  iv.  22.  4  xi  104. 

•  ii.  92,  3.  «  So  it  is  inferred  from  xii.  31.  T  xii.  21. 


432  HISTORY  OF  BOMAN  LITERATURE. 

other  friends  were  Quintilian,  Valerius  Flaccus,  and  Juvenal 
His  intimacy  with  these  men,  two  of  whom  at  least  were  emi 
nently  respectable,  lends  some  support  to  Lis  own  statement 
advanced  to  palliate  the  impurity  of  his  verses : 

"Lasciva  est  nobis  pagina  :  vita  proba  est.** 

The  year  of  his  death  is  not  certain.  But  it  must  have  occurred 
soon  after  100  A.D.  Pliny  in  his  grand  way  gives  an  obituary 
notice  of  him  in  one  of  his  letters,1  which,  interesting  as  all  hia 
letters  are,  we  cannot  do  better  than  translate  : 

"  I  hear  with  regret  that  Valerius  Martial  is  dead.  He  was  a  man  of 
talent,  acuteness,  and  spirit,  with  plenty  of  wit  and  gall,  and  as  sincere  as 
he  was  witty.  I  gave  him  a  parting  present  when  he  left  Rome,  which  was 
due  both  to  our  friendship  and  to  some  verses  which  he  wrote  in  my  praise. 
It  was  an  ancestral  custom  of  ours  to  enrich  with  honours  or  money  those 
who  had  written  the  praises  of  individuals  or  cities,  but  among  other  noble 
and  seemly  customs  this  has  now  become  obsolete.  I  suppose  since  we 
have  ceased  to  do  things  worthy  of  laudation,  we  think  it  in  bad  taste  to 
receive  it." 

Pliny  then  quotes  the  verses,2  and  proceeds — 

"  Was  I  not  justified  in  parting  on  the  most  friendly  terms  with  one  who 
wrote  so  prettily  of  me,  and  am  I  not  justified  now  in  mourning  his  loss  as  that 
of  an  intimate  friend  ?  What  he  could  he  gave  me  ;  if  he  had  had  more  he 
would  have  gladly  given  it.  And  yet  what  gift;  can  be  greater  than  glory, 
praise,  and  immortality  ?  It  is  possible,  indeed,  as  I  think  I  hear  you  saying, 
that  his  poems  may  not  last  for  ever.  Nevertheless,  he  wrote  them  in  the 
belief  that  they  would. H 

Martial  is  the  most  finished  master  of  the  epigram,  as  we  under- 
stand it.  Epigram  is  with  him  condensed  satire.  The  harmless 
plays  on  words,  sudden  surprises,  and  neat  turns  of  expression, 
which  had  satisfied  the  Greek  and  earlier  Latin  epigrammatists, 
were  by  no  means  stimulating  enough  for  the  blase  taste  of 
Martial's  day.  The  age  cried  for  point,  and  with  point  Martial 
supplies  it  to  the  full  extent  of  its  demand.  His  pungency  ia 
sometimes  wonderful ;  the  whole  flavour  of  many  a  sparkling 
little  poem  is  pressed  into  one  envenomed  word,  like  the  scorpion's 
tail  whose  last  joint  is  a  sting.  The  marvel  is  that  with  that 
biting  pen  of  his  the  poet  could  find  so  many  warm  friends.  But 
the  truth  is,  he  was  far  more  than  a  mere  sharp-shooter  of  wit 
He  had  a  genuine  love  of  good  fellowship,  a  warm  if  not  a  con- 
stant heart,  and  that  happy  power  of  graceful  panegyric  which 
was  so  specially  Roman  a  gift.  Juvenal,  indeed,  complains  that 
the  Greeks  were  hopelessly  above  his  countrymen  in  the  art  of 
praise.     But  this  is  not  an  opinion  in  which  we  can  agree.    Theii 

1  iii.  21.  *  They  will  be  found  in  Epig.  x.  19. 


MARTIAL.  433 

fulsome  adulation  may  indeed  have  been  more  acceptable  to  the 
vulgar  objects  of  it  than  that  of  the  Eoman  panegyrist,  who,  even 
while  nattering,  could  not  shake  off  the  fetters  of  the  great  dialect 
in  which  he  wrote ;  but  the  elforts  in  this  department  by  Cicero, 
Ovid,  Horace,  Pliny,  and  Martial,  must  be  allowed  to  be  master- 
achievements  to  which  it  would  be  hard  to  find  an  equal  in  the 
literature  of  any  other  nation. 

Martial  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  Eoman  authors.  Scarce 
once  or  twice  does  he  relax  his  style  sufficiently  to  let  the  reader 
read  instead  of  spelling  through  his  poems.  When  he  does  this 
he  is  elegant  and  pleasing.  The  epicedion  on  a  little  girl  who 
died  at  the  age  of  six,  is  a  lovely  gem  that  may  almost  bear  com- 
parison with  Catullus ;  but  then  it  is  spoilt  by  the  misplaced  wit 
of  the  last  few  lines.1  Few  indeed  are  the  poems  of  Martial  that 
are  natural  throughout.  His  constant  effort  to  be  terse,  to  con- 
dense description  into  allusion,  and  allusion  into  indication,  and  to 
indicate  as  many  allusions  as  possible  by  a  single  word,  compels  the 
reader  to  weigh  each  expression  with  scrupulous  care  lest  he  may 
lose  some  of  the  points  with  which  every  line  is  weighted ;  and 
yet  even  Martial  is  less  perfect  in  this  respect  than  Juvenal.  But 
then  the  shortness  of  his  pieces  takes  away  that  relief  which  a 
longer  satire  must  have,  not  only  for  its  author's  sake,  but  for  pur- 
poses of  artistic  success.  He  must  have  read  Juvenal  with  care,  and 
sometimes  seems  to  give  a  decoction  of  his  satves.2  It  is  probable 
that  we  do  not  possess  all  Martial's  poems.  It  is  also  possible 
that  many  of  those  we  possess  under  his  name  are  not  by  him. 
The  list  embraces  one  book  of  Spectacula,  celebrating  the  shows 
in  which  emperor  and  people  took  such  delight ;  twelve  of  Epi- 
grams, edited  separately,  and  partially  revised  for  each  edition ; 3 
two  of  Xenia  and  Apojihoreta,  written  before  the  tenth  book  of 
Epigrams,  and  devoted  to  the  flattery  of  Domitian.  The  obsceni- 
ties which  defile  almost  every  book  make  it  impossible  to  read 
Martial  with  any  pleasure,  but  those  who  desire  to  make  his 
acquaintance  will  find  Book  IV.  by  far  the  least  objectionable  in 
this  respect,  as  well  as  otherwise  more  interesting. 

At  this  time  Borne  teemed  with  poets ;  as  Pliny  in  one  of  his 
letters  tells  us,  people  reckoned  the  year  by  the  abundance  of  its 
poetic  harvest.  Turn  us  seems  to  have  been  a  satirist  of  sc*r*» 
note;4  among  others  he  satirised  the  poisoner  Locusta.  Scaevius 
Memor  was  a  tragedian  ;5  a  Hecuba,  a  Troadesy  and  perhaps  a 
Jlercules,  are  ascribed  to   him.     Verginius   Bufus  wrote  erotic 

1  v.  37. 

*  See  esp.  he  48,  as  compared  with  Juv.  ii.  1-30. 

•  x.  2  *  Mart.  xL  10.  «  Mart,  ix,  9, 

2  a 


434         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LiTEKATURE. 

poems,  and  an  epigram  of  his  is  quoted  by  Pliny.1  Vkstriciub 
Spurinna  was  a  lyricist,  and  had  been  consul  under  Domitian  ;  a 
fine  account  of  him  is  given  by  Pliny.2  The  only  Roman  poetess 
of  whom  we  possess  any  fragment,  belongs  to  this  epoch,  the  high- 
born lady  Sulpicia.  She  is  celebrated  by  Martial  for  her  chaste 
love-elegies,3  and  for  fidelity  to  her  husband  Calenus.  We  sus- 
pect, however,  that  Martial  is  a  little  satiric  here.  For  the 
epithets  bestowed  by  other  writers  on  Sulpicia  imply  warmth, 
not  to  say  wantonness  of  tone,  though  her  muse  seems  to  have 
been  constant  to  its  legitimate  flame.  We  possess  about  seventy 
hexameters  bearing  the  title  Sulpiciae  Satira,  supposed  to  have 
been  written  after  the  banishment  of  all  philosophers  by  Domi- 
tian (94  a.d.).  It  is  a  dialogue  between  the  poetess  and  her 
muse  :  she  excuses  herself  for  essaying  so  slight  a  subject  in  epic 
metre,  and  implies  that  she  is  more  at  home  in  lighter  rhythms. 
This  may  be  believed  when  we  find  that  she  makes  the  i  of  iambus 
long  !  However,  the  poem  is  corrupt,  and  the  readings  in  many 
parts  uncertain.  Teuffel  regards  it  as  a  forgery  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  following  Boot's  opinion.  It  is  full  of  harsh  construc- 
tions4 and  misplaced  epithets,  but  on  the  other  hand  contains 
some  pretty  lines.  If  it  be  genuine,  its  boldness  is  remarkable. 
Great  numbers  of  other  poets  appear  in  the  pages  of  Martial, 
Statins,  and  Pliny,  but  they  need  not  be  named.  The  fact  that 
verse-writing  was  an  innocuous  way  of  spending  one's  leisure 
doubtless  drove  many  to  it.  Codrus,  or  Cordus,5  was  the  author 
of  an  ambitious  epic,  the  Theseid,  composed  on  the  scale,  but 
without  the  wit,  of  the  Thebaid.  The  stage,  too,  engaged  many 
writers.  Tragedy  and  comedy6  were  again  reviving,  though  their 
patrons  seem  to  have  preferred  recitation  to  acting ;  mimes  still 
flourished,  though  they  had  taken  the  form  of  pantomime.  We 
hear  of  celebrated  actors  of  them  in  Juvenal,  as  Paris,  Latinua, 
and  Thymele. 

1  Ep.  ix.  19,  1.  2  Ep.  iii.  1.  »  x.  35,  1. 

4  E.g.  The  description  of  Domitian  :  qui  res  Romanas  imperat  inter,  N<m 
trabe  scd  tcrgo  prolapsiLS  et  ingluvie  albus.  The  underlined  expression  is  an 
Imitation  of  Aristophanes1  Nub.  1275,  ovk  cbrb  Sokov  aAA'  aV  6vov,  i.e.  a*i 
r»0,  "He  fell  not  fro:n  a  beam,  but  from  a  donkey." 

4  Ju7.  i.  &  *  lb  3,  recitaverU  iiie  togtt  u%  fio 


APPENDIX. 


435 


APPENDIX. 

On  the  Similes  of  Virgil,  Lucan,  and  Statins. 


The  Roman  epicists  bestowed  great 
elaboration  on  their  similes,  and  as 
a  rule  imitated  them  from  a  certain 
limited  number  of  Greek  originals. 
In  Virgil  but  a  few  are  original,  i.e., 
taken  from  things  he  had  himself 
witnessed,  or  feelings  he  had  known. 
Lucan  is  less  imitative  in  form,  and 
he  first  used  with  any  frequency  the 
simile  founded  on  a  recollection  of 
some  well-known  passage  of  Greek 
literature  or  conception  of  Greek  art. 
In  this  Statius  follows  him;  the 
oimile  of  the  infant  Apollo  noticed 
in  this  chapter  is  a  good  instance. 

We   give  a  few   examples  of  the 

treatment  of  a  similar  subject  by  the 

three    poets.        We    first    take    the 

simile  of  a  storm,  described  by  Virgil 

in  the  first  Aeneid,  and  alluded  to  by 

the  other  two  poets  (Lucan  i.  493): 

"Qualis  cum  tuibidus  auster 
Repulit  e  Lib) els  immensum  syrtibus  aequor 
Fractaque  veliferi  sonueruut  pondera  mali, 
Desilit  in  flucius  deseita  puppe  magister 
Kavitaque,  et  nondum  sparsa  conipage  car- 

inae 
Xaufragium  sibi  quisque  facit." 

Here  we  have  no  great  elaboration, 

but    a    good    point    at    the    finish. 

Statius  (Theb.  i.  370)  is  more  subtle 

but  more  commonplace : 

••  Ac  vclut  hiberno  deprensus  navita  ponto, 
Cui  neqne  Trmo  piger,  nee  amico  sidere 

monstrut 
Lena  vias,  medio  caeli  pelagique  tumultu 
Stat  rationis  inops;  iam  iamque  aut  saxa 

malignis 
Expectat  submersa  vadis,  aut  vertice  acuto 
Spumantes  scopulos  erectae  incurrere  pro- 

rae." 

The  next  simile  is  that  of  a  shep- 
herd robbing  a  nest  of  wild  bees.  It 
occurs  in  Virgil  and  Statius.  Virgil's 
description  is  (Aen.  xii.  587) — 

u  Inrlusas  ut  cum  latebroso  in  pumice  pastor 
Vostigavit  apes,  fuim  que  implevit  amnio; 
Illae  intus  trepidac  rerum  per  ctrea  castra 
Discummt,  magnisque  acuunt  stridoribus 

Ii  as; 
Volvitur  ater  odor  tectis;   turn  murmure 

caeco 
Intus  mm  sonant:    vacuus  it  fumus  ad 

auras " 

That  of  Stavius  (Th.  x.  574)  presents 


some  characteristic  refineuieiita    on 

its  original : 

"  Sic  ubi  pumiceo  pastor  rapturus  ab  antre 
Armatas  erexit  apes,  f remit  aspera  nubes: 
Inque  victm    sese  stridore    hortantur  et 

omnes 
Hostis  in  ora  volant;  mox  deflcientibus  alia 
Amplexae  flavamque  domum   captivaque 

plangunt 
Mella,  laboratasque  premunt  ad  pectora 

ceras." 

The  smoke  which  is  the  agent  of 
destruction  is  described  by  Virgil : 
obscurely  hinted  at  in  Statius  by  the 
single  epithet  "deficientibus." 

The  next  example  is  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  landslip  by  the  same  two. 
Virg.  Aen.  xii.  682. 

u  Ac  veluti  montis  saxum  de  verticfc  praeceps 
Quum  ruit  avolsum  vento,  seu  tuibidus 

imber 
Proluit,  aut  annis  solvit  sublapsa  vetustas, 
Feitur  in  abruptum  vasto  mons  Improbus 

acta, 
Exsultatque  solo,  silvas  armenta  virosque 
Involvens  secum." 

The  copy  is  found  Stat.  Theb.  vii 
744: 

"Sic  ubi  nubi/erum  montis  latus  aut  nova 
ventis 
Solvit  hiems  aut  victa  situ  non  pertulit 

aetas; 
Desilit  lionendus  campo  timor,  arma  vir- 
osque 
Limit?  non  uno  longaevaqne  robora  secum 
Praecipitans,  tandemque  exhaustus  turbine 

fesso 
Aut   \allem   cavat,  ant  medios   intercipit 
amnts." 

The  additions  are  here  either  exagge- 
rations, trivialities,  or  ingenious  adap- 
tations of  other  passages  of  Virgil. 

The  next  is  a  thunderstorm  from 
Tirgil  and  Lucan,  (JEn.  xii.  451)  : 

Qualis  ubi  ad  terras  abrupto  sidere  nin  bus 
It  mare  per  medium ;  miseris,  lieu,  praescia 

longe 
Honescunt corda ngricolis;  dabit ille ruinae 
Aiboribus    stragemque   satis,  met  omnia 

late; 
Antevolant  somtumque  ferunt   ad  lit'*! 

ventL" 

The  simile  of  Lucan,  which  describes 

one  disastrous  flash   rather  than   a 

storm  (I'hars.  i.  150)  refers  to  Caesar: 

"Qualitei   jxpressum  vtntis  per  nubila  ful* 
men 
Aetheris  impulsi  sonitu  tnundi  que  fragora 


436 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


Envenit,  runitq^ie  diem,  popnlosqne  paventes 
Terruit,      obliqua      praestringcns      lumina 

namma: 
In  sua  tempi  a  furit,  nullaque  exire  vetante 
Materia,  majcnamque   cadens,  magnamque 

reverie  us 
Dat  stragem  late,  sparsosque  recolligitlgnet." 

No  comparison  is  more  common  in 
Latin  poetry  than  that  of  a  warrior 
to  a  bull.  All  the  three  poets  have 
introduced  this,  some  of  them  several 
times.  The  instances  we  select  will 
be  Virg.  Mn.  xii.  714  : 

"Ac  velut  ingt-nti  Sila  summove  Taburno 
Cum  duo  conversis  ininiica  in  proelia  tauri 
Krontibii8incununt,pavulicesseiemagistri, 
Stat  pecus  omne  metu  inutuia  mussantque 

iuvencae, 
Quis  nemori  imperitet,  quern  tota  armenta 

sequantur." 

Lucan's  simile  is  borrowed  largely 
from  the  Georgics.  It  is,  however, 
a  fine  one  (Phars.  ii.  601): 

"  Pulsus  ut  armentis  primo  certamine  taurus 
Sil  varum  secreta  petit,  vacuosque  per  agios 
Exul  in  adversis  explorat  cornua  truncis; 
Nee  redit  in  pastus  nisi  quum  cervice  re- 

cepta 
Excussi  placuere  tori;  mox  reddita  victor 
Quosiibet  in  salt  us  coinitautibus    agmiiia 

tauris 
Invito  pastore  trahit." 

That  of  Statius  is  in  a  similar  strain 
(Theb.  xi.  251): 

•'Sic  ubi  regnator  post  exulis  otia  tauri 
Mugitum  hostilem  suinmatu.it  aure  iuven- 

cus, 
Agnovitque  minas,  magna  stat  fervidus  ira 
Ante  gregem,  spumisque  animos  ardenti- 

bas  effert, 
Nunc  pedetorvns  humum  nunc  cornibus 

aera  lindens. 
Horret  ager,  trepidaeque  expectant  proelia 

valles" 

How  immeasurably  does  Virgil's  de- 
scription in  its  unambitious  truth 
exceed  these  two  fine  but  bombastic 
imitations  ! 

These  examples  will  suffice  to  show 
that  each  poet  kept  his  predecessors  in 
his  eye,  and  tried  to  vie  with  them  in 
drawing  a  similar  picture.  But  the 
similes  ave  not  always  taken  from  the 
common-place  book.  Virgil,  who  re- 
serves nearly  all  his  similes  for  the  last 
six  books,  occasionally  strikes  an  ori- 
ginal key.  Such  are  (or  appear)  the 
similes  of  the  sedition  quelled  by  an 
orator  (i.  148),  the  top  (vii.  378),  the 


labyrinth  (v.  588),  the  housewife  (viii, 
407),  and  the  fall  of  the  pier  at  Baiae 
(ix.  707) ;  perhaps  also  of  the  swal- 
low (xii.  473)  ;  mythological  similes 
are  common  in  him,  but  not  so  much 
so  as  in  Lucan  and  Statius.  We  have 
those  of  the  Amazons  (xi.  659),  of 
Mari*  shield  in  Thrace  (xii.  331),  con- 
densed by  Statius  {Theb.  vi.  665),  of 
Orestes  (iv.  471),  copied  by  Lucan 
{Ph.  vii.  777). 

The  lion,  as  may  be  supposed,  fur- 
nishes many.  We  subjoin  a  further 
list  which  may  be  useful  to  the 
reader. 

The  Lion— ken.  xii.  4  ;  x.  722  ;  ix. 
548(?).  Phars.  i.  206.  Theb.  ii. 
675  ;  iv.  494  ;  v.  598  ;  vii.  670  ;  viiL 
124  ;  ix.  739,  and  perhaps  v.  231. 

Tlie  Serpent,  dragon,  Ac.  — Aen.  xL 
751  ;  v.  273.     Theb.  v.  599  ;  xi.  310. 

Mythological — Phars.  ii.  715;  iv. 
549;  vii.  144.  Theb.  ii.  81;  iy. 
140  ;  xii.  224,  270. 

The  Sea— Aen.  xi.  624  ;  vii.  5S6  (?). 
Theb.  i.  370 ;  iii.  255  ;  vi.  777  ;  viL 
864. 

The  Winds — Aen.  x.  356.  Phars.  i. 
498.    Theb.  i.  194  ;  iii.  432  ;  v.  704. 

Tlie  Boar— Aen.  x.  707.  Theb. 
viii.  533. 

Trees — Aen.  ix.  675.  Phars.  i. 
136.     Theb.  viii.  545. 

Birds — Aen.  v.  213  ;  xii.  473  ;  xL 
721 ;  vii.  699.  Theb.  ix.  858  ;  xii. 
15. 

We  may  note  detached  similes  like 
that  of  the  light  reflected  in  water, 
Aen.  viii.  15,  imitated  in  Theb.  vi. 
578  ;  that  of  the  horse  from  Homer, 
Aen.  xi.  491,  which  Statius  has  not 
dared  to  imitate  ;  and  others  not  re- 
ferable to  any  of  the  above  groups 
nay  easily  be  found.  It  is  clear  that 
Virgil  and  Statius  attached  more 
importance  to  this  ornament  than 
Lucan.  Their  verbal  elaboration  was 
greater,  and  thus  they  both  excel 
him.  A  careful  study  of  all  the 
similes  in  Latin  poetry  would  bring 
to  light  some  interesting  facts  o? 
literary  criticism.  That  descriptive 
power  in  which  all  the  Romans  ex- 
celled is  nowhere  more  striking  than 
in  these  short  and  pleating  cameos. 


CHAPTER  TO 

The  Reigns  op  Nerva  and  Trajan  (96-117  a.tk).. 

The  death  of  Domitian  was  the  end  of  tyranny  in  Rome.  Undei 
Nerva  a  new  regime  was  inaugurated.  Liberty  of  speech  and 
action  was  allowed,  and  authors  were  not  slow  to  profit  by  it 
The  forced  repression  of  so  many  years  had  matured,  not  quenched, 
the  talent  of  the  greatest  writers.  Virtuous  men  had  pondered  in 
gloomy  silence  over  the  wickedness  of  the  time,  and  they  now 
gave  to  the  world  the  condensed  result  of  their  bitter  reflection? 
Amid  the  numerous  talents  of  the  period  three  have  sent  down 
to  us  a  large  portion  of  their  works.  These  three  are  all  writers 
of  the  highest  mark,  and  two  of  them  of  commanding  genius. 
For  grace,  urbanity,  and  polish,  Pliny  yields  only  to  Cicero ;  foi 
realistic  intensity  directed  to  a  satiric  purpose,  Juvenal  yields  tc 
no  writer  whatever ;  for  piercing  insight  into  the  human  heart  and 
An  imagination  which  casts  its  characters  as  in  a  white-hot  furnace, 
Tacitus  well  deserves  the  name  of  Rome's  greatest  historian. 
Chronologically  speaking,  Pliny  is  posterior  to  the  other  two. 
But  he  is  so  good  a  type  of  this  comparatively  happy  age  that  he 
may  well  come  before  us  first.  The  other  two,  occupied  with 
past  regrets,  reflect  in  their  tone  of  mind  an  earlier  time. 

C.  Plinius  Caecilius  Secundus,  the  nephew  of  Pliny  the 
elder,  was  born  at  Novocomum1  62  a.d.  When  he  was  eight 
years  old  his  father  died,  and  two  years  after  his  uncle  adopted 
him.  In  the  interim  he  was  assigned  to  the  care  of  his  guardian, 
that  Virginius  Rufus  of  whom  Tacitus  deigned  to  be  the  pane- 
gyrist. He  was  brought  early  to  Rome,  and  placed  under  Quin- 
tilian  and  other  celebrated  teachers,  among  whom  was  Mcetes  of 
Smyrna,  one  of  the  foremost  rhetoricians  of  the  day.  He  served 
his  first  campaign  in  Syria,  but  seems  to  have  given  his  time  to 
philosophy  more  than  soldiering.  He  was  even  more  emphatically 
a  man  of  peace  than  Cicero,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  fancy  him 
wielding  the  sword,  though  we  can  well  picture  him  to  ourselves 
resplendent  in  full  dress  uniform,  well  satisfied  with  his  appear 

1  Como. 


438  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

once,  and  trying  his  best  to  assume  the  martial  air.  While  in 
Asia  he  spent  much  time  with  the  old  philosopher  Euphrates,  of 
•whose  daily  life  he  has  given  a  pleasing  description  in  the  tenth 
letter  of  his  first  book. 

On  his  return  he  studied  for  the  bar,  and  pleaded  with  success. 
He  passed  through  the  several  offices  of  state,  and  prided  himself 
not  a  little  on  the  fact  that  he  attained  the  consulate  and  pontifi- 
cate at  an  earlier  age  than  Cicero.  Somewhat  later  he  was  elected  to 
the  college  of  augurs,  an  honour  which  prompts  him  to  remind  tha 
world  that  Cicero  had  been  augur  too !  In  98  a. d.,  when  Trajan  had 
been  irwo  years  emperor,  Pliny  was  raised  for  the  second  time  to 
the  consulate,  atid  was  admitted  to  some  share  of  his  sovereign's 
confidence.  The  points,  it  is  true,  on  which  he  was  consulted 
were  not  of  the  most  important,  but  he  was  extremely  pleased, 
and  has  recorded  his  pleasure  in  more  than  one  of  his  charming 
letters.  In  103  he  was  sent  to  fill  the  office  of  proconsul  in 
Pontus  and  Bithynia ;  and  while  there,  hs  kept  up  the  interesting 
correspondence  with  Trajan,  to  which  the  tenth  book  of  his 
letters  is  devoted. 

Though  eloquence  was  not  what  it  had  been,  it  still  remained 
the  highest  career  that  an  ambitious  man  could  adopt.  Even  under 
the  tyrants  it  had  served  as  the  keenest  weapon  of  attack,  the 
surest  buckler  of  defence.  The  public  accusation,  which  had  once 
been  the  stepping-stone  to  fame,  had  changed  its  name,  and 
become  delation.  And  he  who  hoped  to  parry  its  blows  must 
noeds  have  been  able  to  defend  himself  by  the  same  means. 
Pliny  was  ahead  of  all  his  rivals  in  both  departments  of  eloquence. 
He  was  the  most  telling  pleader  before  the  centumviral  tribunal, 
and  he  was  the  boldest  orator  in  the  revived  debates  of  the 
senate.  His  best  forensic  speech,  his  De  Oorona,  as  he  loved  to 
style  it,  was  that  on  behalf  of  Accia  Variola,  a  lady  unjust*/  disin- 
herited by  her  father,  whom  Pliny's  eloquence  reinstated  in  her 
rights.  In  the  senate  Pliny  rose  to  even  higher  efforts.  He 
rejoiced  to  plead  the  cause  of  injured  provinces  against  the  extor- 
tion of  rapacious  governors,  who  (as  Juvenal  tells  us)  pillaged  the 
already  exhausted  wealth  of  their  helpless  victims.  On  more  than 
one  occasion  Pliny's  boldness  was  crowned  with  success.  Caecilius 
Classicus,  who  had  ground  down  the  Baeticenses,  was  so  powerfully 
impeached  by  him  that,  to  avoid  conviction,  he  sought  a  voluntary 
death,  and  wliat  was  better,  the  confiscated  property  was  returned 
to  its  owners.  The  still  worse  criminal,  Marius  Priscus,  who  in 
exile  "enjoyed  the  anger  of  the  gods,"1  was  compelled  by  Pliny 
tad  Tacitus  to  disgorge  no  small  portion  of  his  plunder.     When 

1  .Tuv.  i.  4d. 


PLINY  THE  YOUNGER.  439 

carried  away  "by  his  subject  Pliny  spoke  with  such  vehemence  as 
to  endanger  his  delicate  lungs,  and  he  tells  us  with  no  small  com- 
placency  that  the  emperor  sent  him  a  special  message  "to  ha 
careful  of  his  health."  But  his  greatest  triumph  was  the  accusa- 
tion of  Publicius  Certus,  a  senator,  and  expectant  of  the  consul- 
ship. The  fathers,  long  used  to  servitude,  could  not  understand 
the  freedom  with  which  Pliny  attacked  one  of  their  own  body, 
and  at  first  they  tried  to  chill  him  into  silence.  But  he  was  not 
to  be  daunted.  He  compelled  them  to  listen,  and  at  last  so  roused 
them  by  his  fervour  that  he  gained  his  point.  It  is  true  that  he 
risked  neither  life  nor  fortune  by  his  boldness ;  but  none  the  less 
does  ho  deserve  honour  for  having  recalled  the  senate  to  a  tardy 
sense  of  its  position  and  responsibilities. 

Roman  eloquence  was  now  split  into  two  schools  or  factions,  one 
of  which  favoured  the  ancient  style,  the  other  the  modern.  Pliny 
was  the  champion  of  reaction  :  Tacitus  the  chief  representative  of 
the  modern  tendency.  Unfortunately,  Pliny's  best  oratory  has  per- 
ished, but  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  its  brilliant  wit  and  courtly 
finish  would  have  impressed  us  less  than  they  did  the  ears  of  those 
who  heard  him.  One  specimen  only  of  his  oratorical  talent 
remains,  the  panegyric  addressed  to  Trajan.  This  was  admitted 
to  be  in  his  happiest  vein,  and  it  is  replete  with  point  and  elegance. 
The  impression  given  on  a  first  reading  is,  that  it  is  full  also  of 
flattery.  This,  however,  is  not  in  reality  the  case.  Allowing  for 
a  certain  conventionality  of  tone,  there  is  no  flattery  in  it ;  that 
is,  there  is  nothing  that  goes  beyond  truth.  But  Pliny  has  the 
unhappy  talent  of  speaking  truth  in  the  accents  of  falsehood. 
Like  Seneca,  he  strikes  us  in  this  speech  as  too  clever  for  his 
audience.  Still,  with  all  its  faults,  his  oratory  must  have  made  an 
epoch,  and  helped  to  arrest  the  decline  for  at  least  some  years. 

It  is  on  his  letters  that  Pliny's  fame  now  rests,  and  both  in  tone 
and  style  they  are  a  monument  that  does  him  honour.  They  show 
him  to  have  been  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  feeling,  as  well  as  a  wit 
and  courtier.  They  were  deliberately  written  with  a  view  to 
publication,  and  thus  can  never  have  the  unique  and  surpassing 
interest  that  belongs  to  those  of  Cicero.  But  they  throw  so  much 
light  on  the  contemporary  history,  society,  and  literature,  that  no 
student  of  the  age  can  afford  to  neglect  them.  They  are  arranged 
neither  according  to  time  nor  subject,  but  on  an  aesthetic  plan  of 
their  author's,  after  the  fashion  of  a  literary  nosegay.  As  extracts 
from  several  have  already  been  given,  we  need  not  enlarge  on 
them  here.  Their  language  is  extremely  pure,  and  almost  entirely 
free  from  that  poetical  colouring  which  is  so  conspicuous  in  coa> 
temporary  and  subsequent  prose-writing. 


440         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

The  tenth  book  possesses  a  special  interest,  as  containing  the 
correspondence  between  Pliny  while  governor  of  Bithynia  and  the 
emperor  Trajan,  to  whose  judgment  almost  every  question  that 
arose,  however  insignificant,  was  referred.1  As  he  says  in  his 
frank  way  :  "  Solemne  est  mihi,  Domine,  omnia  de  quibus  dubito 
ad  te  referre."2  The  letter  which  opens  with  these  words  is  the 
celebrated  one  on  the  sublet  of  the  Christians.  Perhaps  it  may 
not  be  out  of  place  to  translate  it,  as  a  highly  significant  witness 
of  the  relations  between  the  emperors  and  their  confiderjtial  ser- 
vants.    It  runs  thus  : — 

"  I  had  never  attended  at  the  trial  of  a  Christian  ;  hence  I  knew  not  what 
were  the  usual  questions  asked  them,  or  what  the  punishments  inflicted.  I 
doubted  also  whether  to  make  a  distinction  of  ages,  or  to  treat  young  and 
old  alike  ;  whether  to  allow  space  for  recantation,  or  to  refuse  all  pardon 
whatever  to  one  who  had  been  a  Christian ;  whether,  finally,  to  make  the 
name  penal,  though  no  crime  should  be  proved,  or  to  reserve  the  penalty  for 
the  combination  of  both.  Meanwhile,  when  any  were  reported  to  me  as 
Christians,  I  followed  this  plan.  I  asked  them  whether  they  were  Chris- 
tians. If  they  said  yes,  I  repeated  the  question  twice,  adding  threats 
of  punishment ;  if  they  persisted,  I  ordered  punishment  to  be  inflicted.  For 
I  felt  sure  that  whatever  it  was  they  confessed,  their  inflexible  obstinacy  well 
deserved  to  be  chastised.  There  were  even  some  Roman  citizens  who  showed 
this  strange  persistence  ;  those  I  determined  to  send  to  Rome.  As  often 
happens  in  cases  of  interference,  charges  were  now  lodged  more  generally  than 
before,  and  several  forms  of  guilt  came  before  me.  An  anonymous  letter  was 
sent,  containing  the  names  of  many  persons,  who,  however,  denied  that  they 
were  or  had  been  Christians.  As  they  invoked  the  gods  and  worshipped  with 
wine  and  frankinoense  before  your  image,  at  the  same  time  cursing  Christ, 
1  released  them  the  more  readily,  as  those  who  are  really  Christians  cannot 
be  got  to  do  any  of  these  things.  Others,  who  were  named  to  me,  admitted 
that  they  were  Christians,  but  immediately  afterwards  denied  it ;  some  said 
they  had  been  so  three  years  ago,  others  at  still  more  distant  dates,  one  or 
two  as  long  ago  as  twenty  years.  All  these  worshipped  your  image  and  those 
of  the  gods,  and  abjured  Christ.  But  they  declared  that  all  their  guilt  or 
error  had  amounted  to  was  this  :  they  met  on  certain  mornings  before  day- 
break, and  sang  one  after  another  a  hymn  to  Christ  as  God,  at  the  same  time 
binding  themselves  by  an  oath  not  to  commit  any  crime,  but  to  abstain  from 
theft,  robbery,  adultery,  perjury,  or  repudiation  of  trust ;  after  this  was 
done,  the  meeting  broke  up  ;  they,  however,  came  together  again  to  eat  their 
meal  in  common,  being  quite  guiltless  of  any  improper  conduct.3  But  since  my 
edict  forbidding  (as  you  ordered)  all  secret  societies,  they  had  given  this  prac- 
tice up.  However,  I  thought  it  necessary  to  apply  the  torture  to  some  young 
women  who  were  called  ministrae*  in  order,  if  possible,  to  find  out  the  truth. 
But  I  could  elicit  nothing  from  them  except  evidence  of  some  debased  and 
immoderate  superstition  ;  so  I  deferred  the  trial,  and  determined  to  ask  your 
advice.     For  the  matter  seemed  important,  especially  since  the  number  of 

1  The  correspondence  dates  from  97  to  108  A.D.  *  x.  96  (97). 

*  This  refers  to  the  malicious  charges  of  acts  of  cruelty  performed  at  the 
common  meal,  often  brought  against  the  early  believers. 
4  Probably  deaconesses. 


PLINY  THE  YOUNGER.  #  441 

those  who  ran  into  danger  increases  daily.  All  ages,  all  ranka,  and  both 
sexes  are  among  the  accused,  and  the  taint  of  the  superstition  is  not  conlined 
to  the  towns  ;  it  has  actually  made  its  way  into  the  villages.  But  I  believe  it 
possible  to  check  and  repress  it.  At  all  events  it  is  certain  that  temples 
which  were  lately  almost  empty  are  now  well  atter  led,  and  sacred  festivals 
long  disused  are  being  revived.  Victims  too  are  Mowing  in,  whereas  a  few 
years  ago  such  things  could  scarcely  fiml  a  purchaser.  From  this  I  infer  that 
vast  numbers  might  be  reformed  if  an  opportunity  of  recantation  were  allowed 
them." 

Trajan's  reply,  brief,  clear,  and  to  the  point,  as  all  his  letters 
are,  is  as  follows : — 

"  I  entirely  approve  of  your  conduct  with  regard  to  those  Christians  of 
whom  you  had  received  information.  We  can  never  lay  down  a  universal 
rule,  as  if  circumstances  were  always  the  same.  They  are  not  to  be  searched 
for  ;  but  if  they  are  reported  and  convicted,  they  must  be  punished.  But  if 
any  denies  his  Christianity  and  proves  his  words  by  sacrificing  to  our  divinity, 
even  though  his  former  conduct  may  have  laid  him  under  suspicion,  he  must 
be  allowed  the  benefit  of  his  recantation.  No  weight  whatever  should  be 
attached  to  anonymous  communications ;  they  are  no  Roman  way  of  deal- 
ing, and  are  altogether  reprehensible." 

Pliny  died  in  113.  He  shone  in  nearly  every  department  of 
literature,  and  thought  himself  no  inelegant  poet.  His  vanity  has 
led  him  to  record  some  of  his  verses,  but  they  only  show  that  he 
had  little  or  no  talent  in  this  direction.  His  long  and  prosperous 
life  was  marked  by  no  reverse.  Popular  among  his  equals,  splen- 
did in  his  political  successes,  in  his  vast  wealth,  and  his  friendship 
with  the  emperor,  Pliny  is  almost  a  perfect  type  of  a  refined  pagan 
gentleman.  In  some  ways  he  reminds  us  of  Xenophon.  He  was 
in  complete  harmony  with  his  age  ;  he  had  neither  the  harassing 
thoughts  of  Seneca,  nor  the  querulousness  of  his  uncle,  nor  the 
settled  gloom  of  Tacitus,  to  overcast  his  bright  and  happy  dispo- 
sition. Few  works  in  all  antiquity  are  more  pleasing  than  his 
friendly  correspondence.  "We  learn  from  it  the  names  of  a  large 
number  of  orators  and  other  distinguished  literary  men,  of  whom, 
indeed,  Rome  was  full.  Voconius  Eomanus,1  Salvius  Liberalis,2 
C.  FANNius,3and  Claudius Pollio,4  were  among  the  most  renowned. 
They  are  mentioned  as  possessing  every  gift  that  could  contribute 
to  the  highest  eloquence ;  but  as  Pliny's  good  nature  leads  him  to 
praise  all  his  friends  indiscriminately,  we  cannot  lay  much  stress 
on  his  opinion.  In  jurisprudence  we  meet  with  Priscus  Nera- 
tius,  Juventius  Celsus,  and  Javolenus  Priscus.  The  two 
former  were  men  of  mark,  and  obtained  the  consulate.  The  last 
was  less  distinguished,  and  had  the  misfortune  to  offend  Pliny  by 
an  ill-timed  jest.6     Once,  when  Statius  had  given  a  reading,  and 

»  Ep.  II.  13,  4.  «  Ep.  II.  11,  lfc  »  Ep.  V.  5,  L 

*  Ep  VII  81,  5.  •  Ep.  VI.  15. 


442  •  HISTORY  OF  ROMAif  LITERATURE. 

had  just  left  the  hall,  the  audience  asked  Passienus  Paulus,  who 
had  a  manuscript  ready,  to  take  his  place.  Paulus  was  somewhat 
diffident,  hut  finally  cdnsented,  and  began  his  poem  with  the 
words,  "  You  hid  me,  Priscus  .  .  . ,"  on  which  Javolenus,  who  was 
sitting  near,  called  out,  "  You  mistake  !  I  do  not  hid  you! "  Tho 
audience  greeted  this  sally  with  a  laugh,  and  so  put  an  end  to  the 
unlucky  Paulus's  recitation.  Pliny  contemptuously  remarks  that  it 
is  doubtful  whether  Javolenus  was  quite  sane,  but  admits  that  there 
are  people  imprudent  enough  to  trust  their  business  to  him.1  We 
may  think  a  single  jest  is  somewhat  scanty  evidence  of  dementia. 

Grammar  was  in  this  reign  actively  pursued.  Flavius  Capeb 
was  the  author  of  a  treatise  on  orthography,  and  another  "  on 
doubtfid  words,"  both  of  which  we  possess.  He  seems  to  have 
been  a  learned  man,  and  is  often  quoted  by  the  grammarians  of 
the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries.  Velius  Longus  also  wrote  on 
orthography,  and,  as  we  learn  from  Gellius,  a  treatise  De  Usu 
Antiquae  Lectionis.  All  the  chief  grammarians  now  exercised 
themselves  on  the  interpretation  of  Virgil,  who  was  fast  rising 
into  the  position  of  an  oracle  in  nearly  every  department  of  learn- 
ing, an  elevation  which,  in  the  time  of  Macrobius,  he  had  com- 
pletely attained.  Of  scientific  writers  we  possess  in  part  the  works 
of  three ;  that  of  Hyginus  on  munitions,  and  another  on  bound- 
aries (if  indeed  this  last  be  his),  which  are  based  on  good  autho- 
rities ;  that  of  Balbus  On  the  Elementary  Notions  of  Geometry ; 
and  perhaps  that  of  Siculus  Flaccus,  De  Condicionibus  Agrorum, 
all  of  which  are  of  importance  towards  a  knowledge  of  Roman  sur- 
veying. It  is  doubtful  whether  Flaccus  lived  under  Trajan,  but 
in  any  case  he  cannot  be  placed  later  than  the  beginning  of 
Hadrian's  reign. 

The  only  poet  of  the  time  of  Trajan  who  has  reached  us,  but 
one  of  the  greatest  in  Roman  literature,  is  D.  Junius  Juvenalis 
(46-130?  a.d.).  He  was  born  during  the  reign  of  Claudius,  and 
thus  spent  the  best  years  of  his  life  under  the  regime  of  the  worst 
emperors.  His  parentage  is  uncertain,  but  he  is  said  to  have  been 
either  the  son  or  the  adopted  son  of  a  rich  freedman,  and  a  passage 
in  the  third  Satire  2  seems  to  point  to  Aquinum  as  his  birth-place. 
We  have  unfortunately  scarcely  any  knowledge  of  his  life,  a  point 
to  be  the  more  regretted,  as  we  might  then  have  pronounced  with, 
confidence  on  his  character,  which  in  the  Satires  is  completely 
veiled.  An  inscription  placed  by  him  in  the  temple  of  Ceres 
Helvina,  at  Aquinum  (probably  in  tho  reign  of  Domitian),  has 

1  An  exhaustive  list  of  these  minor  authors  will  be  found  in  TeuffeL 
§886-839.  »  iii,  31 9. 


LIFE  OF  JUVENAL.  413 

l>een  published  by  MommseiL  It  contains  one  or  two  biographical 
notices,  which  show  that  he  held  positions  of  considerable  im- 
portance.1 We  have  also  a  memoir  of  him,  attributed  to  Sue* 
tonius  by  some,  but  to  Probus  by  Valla,  which  tells  us  that  until 
middle  life  he  practised  declamation  as  an  amateur,  neither  plead- 
ing at  the  bar  nor  opening  a  rhetorical  school.  We  are  informed 
also  that  under  Domitiau  he  wrote  a  satire  on  the  pantomime  Paris, 
which  was  so  highly  approved  by  his  friends  that  he  determined 
to  give  himself  to  poetry.  He  did  not,  however,  publish  until 
the  reign  of  Trajan.  It  was  in  the  time  of  Hadrian  that  some  of 
his  verses  on  an  actor 2  were  recited,  probably,  by  the  populace 
in  a  theatre,  in  consequence  of  which  the  poet,  now  eighty  years 
of  age,  was  exiled  under  the  specious  pretext  of  a  military  com- 
mand, the  emperor's  favourite  player  having  taken  offence  at  the 
allusion.  Prom  a  reference  to  Egypt  in  one  of  his  later  satires,3 
the  scholiast  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  was  the  place  of  his 
exile.  But  it  is  more  likely  to  have  been  Britain,  though  in  this 
case  the  relegation  would  have  taken  place  under  Trajan.4  He 
appears  to  have  died  soon  after  from  disgust,  though  here  the 
two  accounts  differ,  one  bringing  him  back  to  Pome,  and  making 
him  survive  until  the  time  of  Antoninus  Pius.  The  obvious 
inference  from  all  this  is  that  we  know  vesy  little  about  the 
matter.  In  default  of  external  evidence  we  might  turn  to  the 
Satires  themselves,  but  here  the  most  careful  sifting  ean  find 
nothing  of  importance.  The  great  vigour  of  style,  however, 
which  is  conspicuous  in  the  seventh  Satire  makes  it  clear  that  it 
was  not  the  work  of  the  poet's  old  age.  Hence  the  Caesar  re* 
ferred  to  cannot  be  Hadrian.  He  must,  therefore,  be  some  earlier 
emperor,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  it  is  Trajan.  Under 
Trajan,  then,  we  place  the  maturity  of  Juvenal's  genius  as  it  is 
displayed  in  the  first  ten  Satires.  The  four  following  ones  show  a 
falling  off  in  concentration  and  dramatic  power,  and  are  no  doubt 
later  productions,  when  years  of  good  government  had  softened 
his  asperity  of  mind.  The  fifteenth,  sixteenth,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  the  twelfth,  show  unmistakable  signs  of  senility.  The 
fifteenth  contains  evidence  of  its  date.  The  consulship  of 
Juncus  (127  a. D.)  is  mentioned  as  recent.5  We  may  therefore 
safely  place  the  Satire  within  the  two  following  years.     The  srx- 

1  It  runs  :  Cereri  sacrum  D.  Junius  Juvenalis  tribunus  cohortis  I.  Delma- 
tarum,  II.  vir  quinoueniralis  llainen  Divi  Vespasiaiii  vovit  dedicavitque  sua 
pecunia.    See  Teuffei,  §  326. 

3  Perhaps  vii   90.  8  xv.  45. 

4  So,  at  least,  says  the  author  of  the  statement.  But  the  cohort  of  which 
Juvenal  was  prefect  was  in  Biitain  a.d.  124  under  Hadrian.     See  Teuffei, 

6  Nuper  consule  J  unco,  xv.  27.     Others  read  Junio. 


444  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

teenth,  which  treats  of  the  privileges  of  military  service,  a  verj 
promising  subject,  has  often  been  thought  spurious,  but  without 
jufficient  reason.  The  poet  speaks  of  himself  as  a  civilian,  ap- 
pearing to  have  no  goodwill  towards  the  camp,  and  as  Juvenal 
had  been  in  the  army,  it  is  argued  that  he  would  scarcely  have 
written  fo.  But  to  this  it  may  be  replied  that  Juvenal  chose  the 
subject  for  its  literary  capabilities,  not  from  any  personal  feeling. 
As  an  expert  rhetorician,  he  could  not  fail  to  see  the  humorous 
side  of  the  relations  between  militaire  and  civilian.  The  feeble- 
ness of  the  style,  and  certain  differences  from  the  diction  usual 
with  the  author,  are  not  sufficient  to  found  an  argument  upon,  and 
have  besides  been  much  exaggerated.  They  would  apply  equally, 
and  even  with  greater  force,  to  the  fifteenth. 

The  words  " ad  mediam  fere  aetatem  declamavit"  as  Martha 
has  justly  remarked,  form  the  key  to  Juvenal's  literary  position. 
He  is  the  very  quintessence  of  a  declaimer,  but  a  declaimer  of  a 
most  masculine  sork  Boileau  characterises  him  in  two  epigram- 
matic lines : 

"Juvenal  eleve  dans  les  cris  de  l'ecole 
Poussa  jusqu'  a  l'exces  son  mordant  hyperbole." 

Poet  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word  he  certainly  is  not.  The 
love  of  beauty,  which  is  the  touchstone  of  the  poetic  soul,  is  ab- 
sent from  his  works.  He  rather  revels  in  depicting  horror  and 
ugliness.  But  the  other  qualification  of  the  poet,  viz.  a  mastery 
of  words,1  he  possesses  to  a  degree  not  surpassed  by  any  Roman 
writer,  and  in  intensity  and  terseness  of  language  is  perhaps 
superior  to  all.  Not  an  epithet  is  wasted,  not  a  synonym  idle. 
As  much  is  pressed  into  each  verse  as  it  can  possibly  be  made  to 
bear,  so  that  fully  to  appreciate  the  Satires  it  is  necessary  to  have 
a  commentary  on  every  line.  Even  now,  after  the  immense 
erudition  that  has  been  expended  on  him,  many  passages  remain 
obscure,  not  only  in  respect  to  allusions,  but  even  in  matters  of 
language.2  The  tension  of  his  style,  which  is  never  relaxed,3  repre- 
sents not  only  great  effort,  but  long-matured  and  late-born  thought 
In  the  angry  silence  of  forty  years  had  been  formed  that  fierce  and 
almost  brutal  directness  of  description  which  paints,  as  has  been 
well  said,  with  a  vividness  truly  horrible.  In  preaching  virtue, 
he  first  frightens  away  modesty.  There  is  scarce  one  of  his  poems 
that  does  not  shock  even  where  it  rebukes.     And  three  of  them 

1  Coleridge's  definition  of  poetry  as  "  the  best  words  in  their  right  places" 
may  be  fitly  alluded  to  here.     It  occurs  in  the  Table  Talk. 

2  iv.128  ;  viii.  6,  7  ;  xv.  75. 

•  Except  in  his  poorer  satires ;  certainly  never  in  i.  ii.  iii.  iv.  vi.  vii  viii 


GREAT  POWEll  OF  JUVENAL'S  SATIRE.  445 

are  so  hideous  in  their  wonderful  power  that  it  is  impossible  to 
read  them  with  any  pleasure,  though  one  of  these  (the  sixth) 
is  perhaps  the  most  vigorous  piece  of  writing  in  the  entire  Latin 
language.  For  compressed  power  it  may  be  compared  to  the 
first  chorus  of  the  Agamemnon  of  Aeschylus,  but  here  the  like- 
ness ceases.  While  the  Athenian,  even  among  dreadful  scenes, 
nses  to  notes  of  sweet  and  almost  divine  pathos,  the  Roman's 
dark  picture  is  not  relieved  by  one  touch  of  the  beautiful,  or  one 
reminiscence  of  the  ideal. 

The  question  naturally  arises,  What  led  Juvenal  to  write  poetry 
after  being  so  long  content  with  declamation  1  He  partly  answers 
us  in  his  first  Satire,  where  he  tells  us  that  it  is  in  revenge  for  the 
poetry  that  has  been  inflicted  on  himself : 

"Semper  ego  auditor  tantum  nunquamne  reponamt" 

But  it  arises  also  from  a  higher  motive — 

"Facit  indignatio  versnm 
Qualemcunque  potest,  quales  ego  vel  Cluvienus." 

These  two  qualities,  vexation  (yexatus  toties,  i.  2)  and  indignation, 
are  the  salient  characteristics  of  Juvenal.  How  far  the  vexation 
was  righteous,  the  indignation  sincere,  is  a  question  hard  to 
answer.  There  is  no  denying  the  power  with  which  they  are 
expressed.  But  to  submit  to  this  power  is  one  thing,  to  sift  its 
author's  heart  is  another.  After  a  long  and  careful  study  of 
Juvenal's  poems,  we  confess  to  being  able  to  make  nothing  of 
Juvenal  himself.  We  cannot  get  even  a  glimpse  of  him.  He 
never  doffs  the  iron  mask,  the  "  rigidi  censura  cachinni  ;  "  he  has 
so  long  hidden  his  face  that  he  is  afraid  to  see  it  himself  or  to  let 
it  be  seen.  Some  have  thought  that  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth 
Satires  they  can  find  the  man,  and  have  been  glad  to  figure  him  as 
genial,  simple,  and  kind.  But  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  even 
these  are  not  mere  rhetorical  exercises,  modelled  on  the  Horatian 
epistles,  but  themselves  having  no  relation  to  any  actual  event. 
The  fifteenth,  again,  represents  a  softer  view  of  life,  the  thirteenth 
and  fourteenth  a  higher  faith  in  providence ;  in  these,  it  has  been 
thought,  appears  the  true  nature,  which  had  allowed  itself  to  lie 
hid  among  the  denunciations  of  the  earlier  satires.  But,  in  truth, 
the  character  of  Juvenal  must  be  one  of  the  incognita  of  literature. 
It  is  a  retaliation  on  Satire's  part  for  the  intimate  knowledge  she 
had  allowed  us  to  gain  of  Horace  and  Persius  through  their  works.1 
In  maimer  Juvenal  is  the  most  original  of  poets;  in  matter  he 

1  The  close  intimacy  between  Juvenal  and  Martial  is  no  great  testimony  is 
favour  of  Juvenal.     See  Mart.  vii.  24. 


446  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

is  the  glorifier  of  common-place.  His  strength  lies  in  his  pro 
judices.  He  is  not  a  moralist,  but  a  Roman  moialist ;  the  vicel 
he  lashes  are  not  lashed  as  vices  simpliciter,  but  as  vices  that 
Roman  ethics  condemn.  This  one-sided  patriotism  is  the  key  to 
all  his  ideas.  In  an  age  which  had  seen  Seneca,  Juvenal  can 
revert  to  the  patriotism  of  Cato.  The  burden  of  his  complaints  is 
given  in  the  third  Satire : 

"  Non  possum  ferre  Quirites 
Graecam  Urbeiu."* 

While  the  Greeks  lead  fashion,  the  old  Roman  virtues  can  never 
be  restored.  If  only  men  could  be  disabused  of  their  strange 
reverence  for  all  that  is  Greek,  society  might  be  reconstructed. 
The  keen  satirist  scents  a  real  danger ;  in  half  a  century  from  his 
death  Rome  had  become  a  Greek  city. 

In  estimating  the  political  character  of  Juvenal's  satire  we  mus! 
not  attach  too  much  weight  to  his  denunciation  of  former  tyrants. 
In  the  first  place  "tyrannicide"  was  a  common-place  of  the 
schools  : 2  Xerxes,  Periander,  Phalaris,  and  all  the  other  despots  of 
history,  had  been  treated  in  rhetoric  as  they  had  treated  others  in 
reality ;  Juvenal's  tirade  was  nothing  new,  but  it  was  something 
much  more  powerful  than  had  yet  been  seen.  In  the  second 
place  the  policy  of  Trajan  encouraged  abuse  of  his  predecessors. 
He  could  hardly  claim  to  restore  the  Republic  unless  he  showed 
how  the  Republic  had  been  overthrown.  Pliny,  the  courtly  flat- 
terer, is  far  more  severe  on  Domitian  than  Juvenal ;  and  in  truth 
such  severity  was  only  veiled  adulation.  When  Juvenal  ridicules 
the  senate  of  Domitian,3  we  may  believe  that  he  desired  to  stimu- 
late to  independence  the  senate  of  his  day ;  and  when  he  speaks 
of  Trajan,  it  is  in  language  of  enthusiastic  praise.4  Flattery  it  is 
not,  for  Juvenal  is  no  sycophant,  nor  would  Trajan  have  liked 
him  better  if  he  had  been  one.  Indeed,  with  all  his  invective  be 
keeps  strictly  to  truth ;  his  painting  of  the  emperors  is  from  the 
life.  It  is  highly  coloured,  but  not  out  of  drawing.  Juvenal's 
Domitian  is  nearer  to  history  than  Tacitus's  Tiberius. 

It  is  in  his  delineations  of  society  that  Juvenal  is  at  his  greatest. 
There  is  nothing  ideal  about  him,  but  his  pictures  of  real  life, 
allowing  for  their  glaring  lights,  have  an  almost  overpowering 
truthfulness.  Every  grade  of  society  is  made  to  furnish  matter 
for  his  dramatic  scenes.  The  degenerate  noble  is  pilloried  in  the 
eighth,  the  cringing  parasite  in  the  fifth,  the  vicious  hypocrite  in 

1  iii.  61 ;  jf.  vi.  186,  sqq. 

*  Cum  perimit  saevos  classis  numerosa  tyrannos,  vii.  151. 

•Sativ.  *  lb.  vii.  1-24. 


JUVENAL  A  PATRIOT.  447 

fcho  second,  the  female  profligate  in  the  sixth.  It  is  rarely  that 
he  touches  on  contemporary  themes.  His  genius  "K  as  formed  in 
the  past  and  feeds  on  hitter  memories.  As  he  says,  he  "  kills  the 
dead."1  To  attack  the  living  is  neither  pleasant  nor  safe.  Still, 
in  the  historic  incidents  he  resuscitates,  a  piercing  eye  can  read  a 
reference  to  the  present.  Hadrian's  favourite  actor  saw  himself 
in  Paris.  Freedmen  and  upstarts  could  read  their  original  in 
Sejanus.2  Frivolous  nohlemen  could  feel  their  follies  rebuked  in 
the  persons  of  Lateranus  and  Damasippus.3  Even  an  emperor 
might  find  his  lesson  in  the  gloomy  pictures  of  Hannibal  and 
Alexander.4  So  constant  is  this  reference  to  past  events  that 
Juvenal's  writings  may  be  called  historic  satire,  as  those  of  Tacitus 
satiric  history. 

The  exaggeration  of  Juvenal's  style  if  employed  in  a  different  way 
might  have  led  us  to  suspect  him  of  less  honesty  of  purpose  than  he 
really  has.  As  it  is,  the  very  violence  of  his  prejudices  betrays  an 
earnestness  which,  if  his  views  had  been  more  elevated,  we  might 
have  thought  feigned.  A  man  might  pretend  to  enthusiasm  for 
truth,  or  holiness;  he  would  hardly  pretend  to  enthusiasm  for 
national  exclusiveness,5  or  for  the  dignity  of  his  own  profession.6 
When  Juvenal  attacks  the  insolent  parvenu,7  the  Bithynian  or 
Cappadocian  knight,8  the  Greek  adventurer  who  takes  everything 
out  of  the  Eoman's  hands,9  the  Chaldean  impostor,10  we  may  be 
sure  he  means  what  he  says. 

It  is  true  that  all  his  accusations  are  not  thus  limited  in  their 
scope.  Some  are  no  doubt  inspired  by  moral  indignation ;  and 
the  language  in  which  they  are  expressed  is  noble  and  well  de- 
serves the  praise  universally  accorded  to  it  But  in  other  instances 
his  patriotism  obscures  his  moral  sense.  For  example,  the  rich 
upstarts  against  whom  he  is  perpetually  thundering,  are  by  no 
means  all  worthy  of  blame.  Very  many  of  them  have  obtained 
their  wealth  by  honourable  commerce,  which  the  nobles  were  too 
proud  to  practise,  and  the  rewards  of  which  they  yet  could  not 
see  reaped  without  envy  and  scorn.11  The  increasing  importance 
of  the  class  of  libertini,  so  far  from  being  an  unmixed  evil,  as 
Juvenal  thinks  it,  was  productive  of  immense  good.  It  was  the 
first  step  towards  the  breaking  down  of  the  party-wall  of  pride 
which,  if  persisted  'n,  must  have  caused  the  premature  ruin  of 

1  Experiar  quid  concedatur  in  illos  Quorum  Flaminia  tegitur  cinis  atqui 
Latina,  i.  170.* 
*x.  60.  »viii.  147.  *  x.  147,  sqq. 

»  iil.  61,  86,  7.  •  vii.  pass.  7  L  32,  158. 

•  vii.  16.  •  iii.  77-104.  » it  662,  et  ah 

u  See  especially  iii.  30-44. 


448  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

the  Empire.  It  familiarised  men's  minds  with  ideas  of  equality, 
and  prepared  the  way  for  the  elevation  to  the  citizenship  of  thos« 
vast  masses  of  slaves  who  were  fast  becoming  an  anachronism. 

Popular  feeling  was  ahead  of  men  like  Juvenal  and  Tacitus  in 
these  respects.  In  all  cases  of  disturbance  the  senate  and  great 
literary  men  sided  with  the  old  exclusive  views.  The  emperors, 
as  a  rule,  interfered  for  the  benefit  of  ihe  slave ;  and  this  helps 
us  to  understand  the  popularity  of  some  even  of  the  worst  of  their 
number. 

Juvenal,  then,  was  not  above  his  age,  as  Cicero  and  Seneca 
had  been.  He  does  protest  against  the  cruel  treatment  of  slaves 
by  the  Eoman  ladies;  but  he  nowhere  exerts  his  eloquence  to 
advocate  their  rights  as  men  to  protection  and  friendship.  Nor 
does  he  enter  a  protest  against  the  gladiatorial  shows,  which  was 
the  first  thing  a  high  moralist  would  have  impugned,  and  which 
the  Christians  attacked  with  equal  enthusiasm  and  courage.  We 
observe,  however,  with  pleasure,  that  as  Juvenal  advanced  in 
years  his  tone  became  gentler  and  purer,  though  his  literary 
powers  decayed.  The  thirteenth,  fourteenth,  and  fifteenth  Satires 
evince  a  kindly  vein  which  we  fail  to  find  in  the  earlier  ones. 
Some  have  fancied  that  in  the  interval  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  teaching  of  Christianity.  But  this  is  a  supposition  as  impro- 
bable as  it  is  unsupported. 

On  the  style  of  Juvenal  but  little  need  be  added.  Its  force, 
brevity,  and  concision  have  already  been  noticed,  At  the  same 
time  they  do  not  seem  to  have  been  natural  to  him.  Where  he 
writes  more  easily  he  is  diffuse  and  even  verbose.  The  twelfth 
and  fifteenth  Satires  are  conspicuous  examples  of  this.  One  is 
tempted  to  think  that  the  fifteenth,  had  he  written  it  twenty  years 
earlier,  would  have  been  compressed  into  half  its  length.  The 
diction  is  classical ;  but  like  that  of  Tacitus,  it  is  the  classicality 
of  the  Silver  Age.  It  shows,  however,  no  diminution  of  power,  and 
the  gulf  between  it  and  that  of  Fronto  and  Apuleius  in  the  next 
age  is  immense.  Juvenal's  language  is  based  on  a  minute  study 
of  Virgil;1  his  rhythm  is  based  rather  on  that  of  Lucan,  with 
whom  in  other  respects  he  shows  a  great  affinity.  His  verse  is 
sonorous  and  powerful ;  he  is  fond  of  the  break  after  the  fourth 
foot  Though  monotonous,  its  weight  makes  it  very  impressive ; 
it  is  easily  retained  in  the  memory,  and  stands  next  to  that  of 
Virgil  and  Lucretius  as  a  type  of  what  the  language  can  achieve. 

1  References,  allusions,  and  imitations  of  Virgil  occur  in  most  of  thi 
Satires.  For  reminiscences  of  Lucan,  cf.  Juv.  L  18,  89;  xii.  97,  8;  with 
Phars.  i  457;  viii.  543;  ix.  781,  2. 


LIFE  OF  TACITUS.  449 

The  resentment  that  goaded  Juvenal  to  write  satire  seems 
also  to  have  inspired  the  pen  of  C.  Cornelius  Tacitus.1  He 
was  born  54  a.d.,  01,  according  to  Arnold,  57  A.D.,  probably  in 
Rome.  His  father  was  perhaps  the  same  who  is  alluded  to  by- 
Pliny2  as  procurator  of  Belgian  Gaul.  It  is,  at  any  rate,  certain 
that  the  historian  came  of  a  noble  and  wealthy  stock ;  his  habit 
of  thought,  prejudices,  and  tastes  all  reflect  these  of  the  highest 
and  most  exclusive  society.  He  began  the  career  of  honours 
under  Vespasian3  by  obtaining  his  quaestorship,  and,  some  years 
later,  the  aedileship.  The  dates  of  both  these  events  are  uncer- 
tain— another  instance  of  the  vagueness  with  which  writers  of 
this  time  allude  to  the  circumstances  of  their  own  lives.  We 
know  that  at  twenty-on6  he  married  the  daughter  of  Cn.  Julius 
Agricola,  and  that  he  was  praetor  ten  years  afterwards.  He  was 
also  quindecimvir  at  the  secular  games  under  Domitian  (88  a.d.). 
For  some  years  he  held  a  military  command  abroad,  perhaps  in 
Germany.  On  his  return  he  was  constant  in  his  senatorial  duties4 
and  we  find  him  joined  with  Pliny  in  the  accusation  of  Marius 
Priscus,  which  was  successful  but  unavailing.  Under  Nerva  (97 
A.D.)  he  was  made  consul ;  but  soon  retired  from  public  life,  and 
dedicated  the  rest  of  his  days  to  literature,  having  sketched  out  a 
vast  plan  of  Eoman  history  the  greater  part  of  which  he  lived  to 
fulfil.  The  year  of  his  death  is  uncertain.  Brotier,  followed  by 
Arnold,  thinks  he  was  prematurely  cut  off  before  the  close  of 
Trajan's  reign,  but  it  is  possible  he  lived  somewhat  longer,  perhaps 
until  118  a.  d. 

The  first  remark  one  naturally  makes  on  reading  the  life  of 
Tacitus,  is  that  he  was  admirably  fitted  by  his  distinguished 
military  and  political  career  for  the  duties  of  a  historian.  Gibbon 
said  that  his  year  in  the  yeomanry  had  been  of  more  service  to 
him  in  describing  battles  than  any  closet  study  could  have  been ; 
and  Tacitus  has  this  great  advantage  over  Livy  that  he  had 
helped  to  make  history  as  well  as  to  relate  it.  His  elevation  to  the 
rank  of  senator  enabled  him  to  understand  the  iniquity  of  Pomi- 
tian's  government  in  a  way  that  would  otherwise  have  beer, 
impossible ;  and  of  the  complicity  shown  by  the  servile  father^  in 
their  ruler's  acts  of  crime,  he  speaks  in  the  Agricola  with  some- 
thing like  the  shame  of  repentance.  His  character  seems  to  have 
been  naturally  proud  and  independent,  but  unequal'to  heroism  in 
action.  Like  almost  all  literary  minds  he  shrunk  from  facing 
peril  or  discomfort,  and  tried  to  steer  a  course  between  the  harsh 

1  His  praenomen  is  uncertain  ;  some  think  it  was  Pulhus. 
•  N.  H.  vii.  17.  8  Hist.  i.  1.  4  Agr.  45. 

2f 


4:50  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

self-assertion  of  a  Thrasea1  and  the  cringing  seivility  of  tin 
majority  of  senators.  This  led  him  to  become  dissatisfied  with 
himself,  with  the  world,  and  with  Divine  Providence,2  and  has 
left  a  stamp  of  profound  and  rebellious  melancholy  on  all  his 
works. 

As  a  young  man  he  had  studied  rhetoric  under  Aper  Secundus,8 
and  perhaps  Quintilian.  He  pleaded  with  the  greatest  success, 
and  Pliny  gives  it  as  his  own  highest  ambition  to  be  ranked  next, 
he  dare  not  say  second,  to  Tacitus.4  Nor  was  his  deliberative 
eloquence  inferior  to  his  judicial.  We  learn,  from  Pliny  again, 
that  there  was  a  peculiar  solemnity  in  his  language,  which  gave 
to  all  he  uttered  the  greatest  weight.  The  panegyric  he  pro- 
nounced on  Virginius  Eufus,  the  man  who  twice  refused  the 
chance  of  empire,  "  the  best  citizen  of  his  time,"  was  celebrated 
as  a  model  of  that  kind  of  oratory.5 

The  earliest  work  of  his  that  has  reached  us  is  the  Dialogue  de 
caussis  corruptae  Eloqucntiae,  composed  under  Titus;  or  early 
under  Domitian.  It  attributes  the  decay  of  eloquence  to  the 
decay  of  freedom ;  but  believes  in  a  future  development  of  im- 
perial oratory  under  the  mild  sway  of  just  princes,  founded  not 
on  feeble  and  repining  imitation  of  the  past,  but  on  a  just  appreci- 
ation of  the  qualifications  attainable  in  the  present  political  con- 
ditions and  state  of  tho  language.  The  argument  is  conducted 
throughout  with  the  greatest  moderation,  but  the  conclusion  is 
decided  in  favour  of  the  modern  style,  if  kept  within  proper 
bounds.  The  time  of  the  dialogue  is  laid  in  75  a.d.  ;  the  speakers 
are  Curiatius  -Matemus,  Aper  Secundus,  and  Vipstanus  Messala. 
The  point  of  debate  is  one  frequently  discussed  in  the  schools  of 
rhetoric,  and  the  work  may  be  considered  as  a  literary  exercise ; 
but  the  author  must  have  outgrown  youth  when  he  wrote  it,  and 
its  ability  is  such  as  to  give  promise  of  commanding  eminence  in 
the  future.  The  style  is  free  and  flowing,  and  full  of  imitations 
of  Cicero.  This  has  caused  some  of  the  critics  to  attribute  it  to 
other  authors,  as  Pliny  the  younger  and  Quintilian,6  who  were 
known  to  be  Ciceronianists.  13ut  independently  of  the  fact  that  it 
is  distinctly  above  the  level  of  these  writers,  we  observe  on  look- 
ing closely  many  indications  of  Tacitus's  peculiar  diction.7     The 

1  A.  iv.  20.  »  A.  xiv.  12.  *  l)e  tfr.  2. 

4  Ep.  vii.  20,  4.  •  Ep.  ii.  1,  6. 

6  Ch.  29  especially,  seems  an  echo  of  Quintilian. 
<  7  E.g.  Pallentem  Famam,  eh.  13.     The  expression — Augustus  eloquen- 
tiam  sicut  cetera  pacaverat ;  and  that  so  admirably  paraphrased  by  Pitt 
(ch.  36),  Magna  eloquentia,  sicut  flamma,  materia  alitur  et  motibus  excita» 
tur  et  urendo  clarescit. 


THE  AGRICOLA.  451 

most  striking  personal  notice  occurs  in  the  thirteenth  chapter, 
where  the  author  announces  his  determination  to  give  up  the  life 
of  amhition,  and,  like  Virgil,  to  be  content  with  one  of  literary- 
retirement.  This  seems  at  first  hard  to  reconcile  with  the  knowo 
career  of  Tacitus ;  but  as  the  dialogue  bears  all  the  marks  of  early 
manhood,  the  resolve,  though  real,  may  have  been  a  passing  one 
only ;  or,  in  comparison  with  what  he  felt  himself  capable  of 
doing,  the  activity  actually  displayed  by  him  may  have  seemed 
as  nothing,  and  to  have  merited  the  depreciatory  notice  he  here 
bestows  upon  it. 

The  work  next  in  order  of  priority  is  the  Agricola,  a  biography 
of  his  father-in-law,  composed  near  the  commencement  of  Trajan's 
reign,  about  98  a.  d.  The  talent  of  the  author  has  now  undergone  a 
change ;  he  is  no  longer  the  bright  flowing  spirit  of  the  Dialogue,  who 
acknowledged  the  decline  while  making  the  most  of  the  excellences 
of  his  time ;  he  has  become  the  stern,  back-looking  moralist,  the 
burning  panegyrist,  whose  very  pictures  of  virtue  are  the  most 
withering  rebukes  of  vice.  This  treatise  represents  what  TeufTel  calls 
his  Sallustian  epoch;  i.e.,  a  phase  or  period  of  his  mental  devel- 
opment, in  which  his  political  and  moral  feeling,  as  well  as  his 
literary  aspirations,  led  him  to  recall  the  manner  of  the  great 
rhetorical  biographer.  The  short  preface,  in  which  occurs  a  fierce 
protest  against  the  wickedness  of  the  time  just  past,  reminds  us  of 
the  more  verbose  but  otherwise  not  dissimilar  introduction  to  the 
Catiline:  and  the  subordination  of  general  history  to  the  main 
subject  of  the  composition  is  carried  out  in  Sallust's  way,  but  with 
even  greater  completeness.  At  the  same  time  the  Silver  Age  is 
betrayed  by  the  extremely  high  colouring  of  the  rhetoric,  especi- 
ally in  the  last  chapters,  where  an  impassioned  outpouring  of 
affection  and  despair  seems  by  its  prophetic  eloquence  to  summon 
forth  the  genius  that  is  to  be.  Already,  in  this  work,1  we  find 
that  Tacitus  has  conceived  the  design  of  his  Historian,  to  which, 
therefore,  the  Agricola  must  be  considered  a  preliminary  study. 

As  yet,  Tacitus's  manner  is  only  half-formed.  He  must  have 
acquired  by  painful  labour  that  wonderful  suggestive  brevity  which 
in  the  Annals  reaches  its  culmination,  and  is  of  all  styles  the 
world  of  letters  has  ever  seen,  the  most  compressed  and  full  of 
meaning.  The  Germania,  however,  in  certain  portions2  approxi- 
mates to  :t,  and  in  other- ways  shows  a  slight  increase  of  maturity 
over  the  biography  of  Agricola,  His  object  in  writing  this  trea- 
tise has  been  much  contested.  Some  think  it  was  in  order  to 
dissuade  Trajan  from  a  projected  expedition  that  he  painted  the 

1  Ch.  8.  »  Esp.  ek.  10,  1). 


452  HISTOUY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

German  people  as  foes  so  formidable ;  others  that  it  is  a  satire  01 
the  vices  of  Eome  couched  under  the  guise  of  an  innocent  ethno- 
graphic treatise  ;  others  that  it  is  inspired  by  the  genuine  scientific 
desire  to  investigate  the  many  objects  of  historic  and  natural 
interest  with  which  a  vast  and  almost  unknown  territory  abounded. 
But  none  of  these  motives  supplies  a  satisfactory  explanation. 
The  first  can  hardly  be  maintained  owing  to  historical  difficulties ; 
the  second,  though  an  object  congenial  to  the  lioman  mind,  is  not 
lofty  enough  to  have  moved  the  pen  of  Tacitus  ;  the  third,  though 
it  may  have  had  some  weight  with  him,  would  argue  a  state  of 
scientific  curiosity  in  advance  of  Tacitus's  position  and  age,  and 
besides  is  incompatible  with  his  culpable  laziness  in  sifting  infor- 
mation on  matters  of  even  still  greater  ethnographic  interest.1 

The  true  motive  was  no  doubt  his  fear  lest  the  continual  assaults 
of  these  tribes  should  prove  a  permanent  and  insurmountable 
danger  to  Borne.  Having  in  all  probability  been  himself  employed 
in  Germany,  Tacitus  had  seen  with  dismay  of  what  stuff  the  nation 
was  made,  and  had  foreseen  what  the  defeat  of  Varus  might  have 
remotely  suggested,  that  some  day  the  degenerate  Romans  would 
be  no  match  for  these  hardy  and  virtuous  tribes.  Thus,  the 
design  of  the  work  was  purely  and  pre-eminently  patriotic ;  nor  is 
any  other  purpose  worthy  of  the  great  historian,  patrician,  patriot, 
and  soldier  that  he  was.  At  the  same  time  subsidiary  motives  are 
not  excluded  ;  we  may  well  believe  that  the  gall  of  satire  kindles 
his  eloquence,  and  that  the  insatiable  desire  of  knowledge  stimu- 
lates his  research  while  inquiring  into  the  less  accessible  details  of 
the  German  polity.  The  work  is  divided  into  two  parts.  The 
first  gives  an  account  of  the  situation,  climate,  soil,  and  inhabitants 
3f  the  country ;  it  investigates  the  etymology  of  several  German 
names  of  men  and  gods,  describes  the  national  customs,  religion, 
laws,  amusements,  and  especially  celebrates  the  people's  moral 
strictness ;  but  at  the  same  time  not  without  contrasting  them  un- 
favourably with  Home  whenever  the  advantage  is  on  her  side. 
The  second  part  contains  a  catalogue  of  the  different  tribes,  with 
the  geographical  limits,  salient  characteristics,  and  a  short  his- 
torical account  of  each,  whenever  accessible. 

Next  come  the  Histories,  which  are  a  narrative  of  trie  reigns  of 
Galba,  Otho,  Vitellius,  Vespasian,  Titus,  and  Domitian,  written 
under  Trojan.  This  work,  of  which  we  possess  only  four  entire 
books,  with  part  of  the  fifth,  consisted  originally  of  fourteen  books, 
and  was  the  most  authentic  and  complete  of  all  his  wiitings.  The 
loss  of  the  last  nine  and  a  half  books  must  be  considered  irrepai- 

1  Notably  th«>  history  of  Lhe  Jews.     Hist.  v. 


THE  ANNALS.  4 


»- 


able.  In  the  Germania  he  had  shown  the  power  of  that  lfberty 
which  the  barbarians  enjoyed,  had  indicated  their  polity,  in  which 
even  then  the  germs  of  feudalism,  chivalry,  the  worship  of  the 
sex,  troubadour  minstrelsy,  fairy  my  thology,  and,  above  all,  repre- 
sentative government,  existed.  In  the  Hlstoriae  he  paints  with 
tremendous  power  the  disorganisation  of  the  Roman  state,  the 
military  anarchy  which  made  the  diadem  the  gift  of  a  brutal 
soldiery,  and  revealed  the  startling  truth  that  an  emperor  could  be 
created  elsewhere  than  at  Rome. 

At  this  period  his  style  still  retains  some  traces  of  its  former 
copious  flow;  it  has  not  yet  been  pressed  tight  into  the  short 
sententiae,  which  were  its  final  and  most  characteristic  develop- 
ment, and  which  in  the  Annals  dominate  to  the  exclusion  of  every 
other  style. 

The  Annals,  ah  excessu  divi  Augusti,  in  sixteen  books,  treatrd 
the  history  of  the  Empire  until  the  extinction  of  the  Claudian 
dynasty.  They  contain  two  separate  threads  of  history,  one  internal, 
the  other  external  The  latter  is  important  and  interesting ;  but 
the  former  is  both  in  an  immeasurably  greater  degree.  It  has 
been  likened  to  a  tragedy  in  two  acts,  the  first  terminating  with 
the  death  of  Tiberius,  the  second  with  the  death  of  Nero.  Tacitus 
in  this  work  shows  his  personal  sympathies  more  strongly  than  in 
any  of  the  others.  He  appears  as  a  Roman  of  the  old  school,  but 
still  more,  as  an  oligarchical  partisan.  Not  that  he  indulged  in 
chimerical  plans  for  restoring  the  Republic.  That  he  saw  was  im- 
possible ;  nor  had  he  much  sympathy  with  those  who  strove  for 
it.  But  his  resignation  to  the  Empire  as  an  unavoidable  evil  does 
not  inspire  him  with  contentment.  His  blood  boils  with  indig- 
nation at  the  steady  repression  of  the  liberty  of  action  of  the  old 
families,  which  the  instincts  of  imperialism  forced  upon  the 
monarchs  from  the  very  beginning ;  nor  do  the  general  security 
of  life  and  property,  the  bettered  condition  of  the  provinces,  and 
the  long  peace  that  had  allowed  the  internal  resources  of  the 
empire  to  be  developed,  make  amends  for  what  he  considers  the 
iniquitous  tyranny  practised  upon  the  higher  orders  of  the  state. 
Thus  he  writes  under  a  strong  sense  of  injustice,  which  reaches 
its  culmination  in  treating  of  the  earlier  reigns.  But  this  does 
not  provoke  him  into  intemperate  language,  far  less  into  misrepre- 
sentation of  fact ;  if  he  disdained  to  complain,  he  disdained  still 
more  to  falsify.  But  he  cannot  help  insinuating ;  and  his  in- 
sinuations  are  of  such  searching  power  that  once  suggested,  they 
grasp  hold  of  the  mind,  and  will  not  be  shaken  off.  Of  all  Latin 
authors  none  has  so  much  power  over  the  reader  as  Tacitus.  If 
by  eloquence  is  infant  the  ability  to  persuade,  then  he  is  tho  mosJ 


454         HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

eloquent  historian  that  ever  existed.  To  doubt  his  judgment  it 
almost  to  be  false  to  the  conscience  of  history.  Nevertheless,  his 
saturnine  portraits  have  been  severely  criticised  both  by  English 
and  French  historians,  and  the  arguments  for  the  defence  put 
forward  with  enthusiasm  as  well  as  force.  The  result  is,  that 
Tacitus' s  verdict  has  been  shaken,  but  not  reversed.  The  sur- 
passing vividness  of  such  characters  as  his  Tiberius  and  Nero  for- 
bids us  to  doubt  their  substantial  reality.  But  once  his  prepos- 
sessions are  known  and  discounted,  the  student  of  his  works  can 
give  a  freer  attention  to  the  countervailing  facts,  which  Taciius  is 
too  honourable  to  hide. 

After  long  wavering  between  the  two  styles,  he  adopted  the 
brilliant  one  fashionable  in  his  time,  but  he  has  glorified  it  in 
adopting  it.  Periods  such  as  those  of  Pliny  would  be  frigid  in 
him  He  still  retains  some  traces  (though  they  are  few)  of  the 
rhetorician.  In  an  interesting  passage  he  complains  of  the  com- 
parative poverty  of  his  subject  as  contrasted  with  that  of  Livy : 
"  Ingentia  illi  bella,  expugnationes  urbium,  fusos  captosque  reges 
libero  egressu  memorabant;  nobis  in  arcto  et  inglorius  labor. 
Immota  quippe  aut  modice  lacessita  pax  maestae  urbis  res  et 
princeps  proferendi  imperii  incuriosus  f  i  but  he  certainly  had  no 
cause  to  complain.  The  sombre  annals  of  the  Empire  were  not 
less  amenable  to  a  powerful  dramatic  treatment  than  the  vigorous 
and  aggressive  youth  of  the  Republic  had  been.  Nor  does  the  story 
of  guilt  and  horror  depicted  in  the  Annals  fall  below  even  the 
finest  scenes  of  Livy;  in  intensity  of  interest  it  rather  exceeds  them. 

Tacitus  intended  to  have  completed  his  labours  by  a  history  of 
Augustus's  reign,  which,  however,  he  did  not  live  to  write.  This 
is  a  great  misfortune.  But  he  has  left  us  his  opinion  on  the  char- 
acter and  policy  of  Augustus  in  the  first  few  chapters  of  the 
Annals,  and  a  very  valuable  opinion  it  is.  What  makes  the  his- 
torian more  bitter  in  the  Annals  than  elsewhere,  is  the  feeling  that 
it  was  the  early  emperors  who  inaugurated  the  evil  policy  which 
their  successors  could  hardly  help  themselves  in  carrying  out. 
When  the  failure  of  Piso's  conspiracy  destroyed  the  last  hopes  of 
the  aristocracy,  it  was  hardly  possible  to  retain  for  the  later 
emperors  the  same  intense  hatred  that  had  been  felt  for  those 
whose  tyranny  fostered,  and  then  remorselessly  crushed,  the  re- 
sistance of  the  patrician  party.  The  Annals,  therefore,  though 
the  most  concentrated,  powerful,  and  dramatic  of  Tacitus's  works, 
hardly  rank  quite  so  high  in  a  purely  historical  point  of  view  a* 
the  Histories ;  as  Merivale  has  said,  they  are  all  satire, 

1  Ann.  iv.  32. 


GKAInDEUR  OF  HIS  GENIUS.  45 0 

A  t  the  same  time,  his  facts  are  quite  trustworthy.  "We  know  from 
Pliny's  letters  that  he  took  great  pains  to  get  at  the  most  authentic 
sources,  and  beyond  doubt  he  was  well  qualified  to  judge  in  cases 
of  conflicting  evidence.  These  diverse  excellences,  in  the  opinion 
of  Niebuhr  and  Arnold,  place  him  indisputably  at  the  head  of  the 
Human  historians.  We  cannot  better  close  this  account  than  in 
the  eloquent  words  of  a  French  writer  : l  "  In  Tacitus  subjectivity 
predominates ;  the  anger  and  pity  which  in  turn  never  cease  to 
move  him,  give  to  his  style  an  expressiveness,  a  rich  glow  of  senti- 
ment, of  which  antiquity  affords  no  other  example.  This  constant 
union  between  the  dramatic  and  pathetic  elements,  together  with 
the  directness,  energy,  and  reality  of  the  language,  must  act  with 
irresistible  force  upon  every  reader.  Tacitus  is  a  poet ;  but  a  poet 
that  has  a  spirit  of  his  own.  "Was  he  as  fully  appreciated  in  hi3 
own  day  as  he  is  in  ours?  "We  doubt  it.  The  horrors,  the 
degeneracy  of  his  time,  awake  in  his  brooding  soul  the  altogether 
modern  idea  of  national  expiation  and  national  chastisement. 
The  historian  rises  to  the  sublimity  of  the  judge.  He  summons 
the  guilty  to  his  tribunal,  and  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  Future  and 
of  Posterity  that  he  pronounces  the  implacable  and  irreversible 
verdict." 

The  poetical  and  Greek  constructions  with  which  Tacitus's  style 
abounds,  the  various  artifices  whereby  he  relieves  the  tedium  of 
monotonous  narrative,  or  attains  brevity  or  variety,  have  been  so 
often  analysed  in  well-known  grammatical  treatises  that  it  if 
unnecessary  to  do  more  than  allude  to  them  here, 

1  D©  Bury,  Lea  Femmes  de  VEmgiwt 


CHAPTEE  VIIL 

The  Reigns  of  Hadrian  and  the  Antonines  (117-180  A.D.). 

Wb  now  cuter  on  a  new  and  in  some  respects  a  very  interesting 
era.  From  the  influence  exerted  on  the  last  period  by  the  family 
of  Seneca,  we  might  call  it  the  epoch  of  Spanish  Latinity ;  from 
the  similar  influence  now  exerted  by  the  African  school,  we 
might  call  the  present  the  epoch  of  African  Latinity.  Its  chief 
characteristic  is  ill-digested  erudition.  Various  circumstances 
combined  to  make  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge  general,  and  the 
growing  cosmopolitan  sentiment  excited  a  strong  interest  in  every 
kind  of  exotic  learning.  With  increased  dilfusion  depth  was 
necessarily  sacrificed.  The  emperor  set  the  example  of  travel, 
which  was  eagerly  followed  by  his  subjects.  Hence  a  large  mass 
of  information  was  acquired,  which  injuriously  affected  those  who 
possessed  it  They  appear,  as  it  were,  crushed  by  its  weight, 
and  become  learned  triflers  or  uninteresting  pedants.  Ey  far  the 
most  considerable  writer  of  this  period  was  Suetonius,  but  then  he 
had  been  trained  in  the  school  of  Pliny,  of  whom  for  several  years 
lie  was  an  intimate  friend.  Hadrian  himself  (76-1 38  a.d.),  among 
his  many  other  accomplishments,  gave  some  attention  to  letters. 
Speeches,  treatises  of  various  kinds,  anecdotes,  and  a  coUection  oi 
oracles,  are  ascribed  to  his  pen.  Also  certain  epigrams  which  we 
still  possess,  and  chiefly  that  exquisite  address  to  his  soul,  com- 
posed on  his  death-bed : l 

Animnla  vagula  hlandula 
Hospes  comesque  corporii 
Quae  nunc  abibis  in  loca, 
Pallidula  rigida  imdula  ? 
Nee  ut  soles  dabis  iocos." 

Hadrian  was  also  a  patron  of  letters,  though  an  inconstant  one. 
His  vanity  led  him  to  wish  to  have  distinguished  writers  about 
him,  but  it  also  led  him  to  wish  to  be  ranked  as  himself  the  most 
distinguished.     His   own   taste   was  good ;  he   appreciated  and 

1  For  an  excellent  account  of  this  inconstant  prince  see  his  biography  by 
Aelius  Spartianus,  who  preserves  other  poems  of  his. 


LIFE  OF  SUETONIUS.  457 

oopiel  the  style  of  the  republican  age;  but  he  encouraged  the 
pedantic  Pronto,  whose  taste  was  corrupt  and  ruinously  influential 
So  that  while  with  one  hand  he  benefited  literature,  with  the 
other  he  injured  it. 

The  birth  year  of  C.  Suetonius  Tranquillus  is  uncertain,  but 
may  be  assigned  with  probability  to  75  a.d.1  We  may  here 
remark  the  extraordinary  reticence  of  the  later  writers  on  the 
subject  of  their  younger  days.  Seneca  alone  is  communicative. 
All  tho  rest  show  an  oblivion  or  indifference  most  unlike  the 
genial  communicativeness  of  Cicero,  Horace,  and  Ovid.  His 
father  was  one  Suetonius  Lenis,  a  military  tribune  and  wearer  of 
the  angusticlave.  Muretus,  however,  desirous  to  give  him  a  more 
illustrious  origin,  declares  that  his  father  was  the  Suetonius  Pau- 
linus  mentioned  by  Tacitus.  AVe  learn  a  good  deal  of  his  younger 
days  from  the  letters  of  Pliny,  and  can  infer  something  of  his 
character  also.  In  conformity  with  what  we  know  from  other 
sources  of  the  tendencies  of  the  age,  we  find  that  he  was  given 
to  superstition.2  At  this  time  {i.e.  under  Trajan)  Suetonius 
wavered  between  a  literary  and  a  political  career.  Pliny  was 
able  and  willing  to  help  him  in  the  latter,  and  got  him  appointed 
to  the  office  of  tribune  (102  a.d.).3  Some  years  later  (112  a.d.), 
he  procured  for  him  the  jus  trium  liberorum,  though  Suetonius 
was  childless.  "We  see  that  Augustus's  excellent  institutions  had 
already  turned  into  an  abuse.  The  means  for  keeping  up  the 
population  had  become  a  compensation  for  domestic  unhappiness.4 
Suetonius  practised  for  some  years  at  the  bar,  and  seems  to  have 
amassed  a  considerable  fortune.  We  find  him  begging  Pliny  to 
negotiate  for  him  for  the  purchase  of  an  estate.5  Shortly  after 
this  he  was  promoted  to  be  Hadrian's  secretary,  which  gave  him 
an  excellent  opportunity  of  enriching  his  stores  of  knowledge  from 
the  imperial  library.  Of  this  opportunity  he  made  excellent  use, 
and  after  his  disgrace,  owing,  it  is  said,  to  too  great  familiarity  with 
the  empress  (119  a.d.),  he  devoted  his  entire  time  to  those  multi- 
farious and  learned  works,  which  gave  him  the  position  of  the 
Varro  of  the  imperial  period.  His  life  was  prolonged  for  many 
years,  probably  until  160  a.d.6 

The  writings  of  Suetonius  were  encyclopaedic.  Following  the 
culture  of  his  day,  he  seems  to  have  written  partly  in  Greek,  partly 
in  Latin.     This  had  been  also  the  practice  of  Cicero,  and  of  many 

1  Cf.  Dom.   12,  Interfuisse  me  adolcscentulum  meroini  cum  inspiceretur 
senex  (a  Duinitiano).     From  Gran..  4,  Ner.  57,  as  compared  with  this,  we 
should  infer  that  he  was  about  fifteen  in  the  year  90. 
a  Ep.  i.  18.  »  Ep.  iii.  8.  4  Paneg.  Traj.  95.  8  Ep.  i.  24 

•  E.q.  Fronto  writing  under  Antoninus  mention*  him  as  still  living. 


458  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

of  the  greatest  republican  authors.  The  difference  between  them 
lies,  not  in  the  fact  that  Suetonius's  Greek  was  better,  but  that  hii 
Latin  is  less  good.  Instead  of  a  national  it  is  fast  becoming  a 
cosmopolitan  dialect.  Still  Suetonius  tried  to  form  his  taste  on 
older  and  purer  models,  and  is  far  removed  from  the  denationalised 
school  of  Fronto  and  Apuleius. 

The  titles  of  his  works  are  a  little  obscure.  Roth,  following 
Suidas,  gives  the  following.  (1)  nepl  twv  Trap  "EAA^o-i  TraiScwv 
fitflXiov,  a  book  of  games.  This  is  quoted  or  paraphrased  by 
Tzetzes,1  and  several  excerpts  from  it  are  preserved  in  Eustathius. 
It  was  no  doubt  written  in  Greek,  but  perhaps  in  Latin  also.  (2) 
7rept  tu)V  Trapa  'Pw/zatois  Qcwpiwv  kclI  aywviDV  /?i/3A.ia  y,  an  account 
in  three  books  of  the  Roman  spectacles  and  games,  of  which  an 
interesting  fragment  on  the  Troia  ludus  is  preserved  by  Tertullian.2 
(3)  7repl  rov  Kara  'Pw^tatovs  iviavrov  fiifiXiov,  an  archaeological 
investigation  into  the  theory  of  the  Roman  year.  (4)  irepl  tgV 
iv  Tots  (3ij3kioLs  (rrjpitiwv,  on  the  signification  of  rare  words.  (5) 
7repl  rijs  KiKcpcovos  7roAiT€tas,  a  justification  of  the  conduct  of 
Cicero,  in  opposition  to  some  of  his  now  numerous  detractors, 
especially  one  Didymus,  a  conceited  Alexandrine,  called  Chalcen- 
terus,  "the  man  of  iron  digestion,"  on  account  of  his  immense 
powers  of  work.  (6)  rreoi  oVo/xarau'  Kai  iSe'a?  icrOrj/xdriDV  kcCl  vtto- 
S^fKXToyvj  a  treatise  on  the  different  names  of  shoes,  coats,  and  other 
articles  of  dress.  This  may  seem  a  trivial  subject ;  but,  after 
Carlyle,  we  can  hardly  deny  its  capability  of  throwing  light  on  great 
matters.  '  Besides,  in  ancient  times  dress  had  a  religious  origin,  and 
in  many  cases  a  religious  significance.  And  two  passages  from 
the  work  preserved  by  Servius,3  are  important  from  this  point  of 
view.  (7)  7T€pl  8vcr(j>r}iiiu>v  \e^€(ov  tjtoi  /3\aacf>r)fAiu)v,  an  inquiry 
into  the  OTtgin  and  etymology  of  the  various  terms  of  abuse 
employed  in  conversation  and  literature.  This  was  almost  cer- 
tainly written  in  Greek.  (8)  Trepl  'Pdl/i^s  kol  twv  iv  avrrj  vofxtfioiv 
teal  7)0£>v  ftifiXia  /?,  a  succinct  account  of  the  chief  Roman  customs, 
of  which  only  a  short  passage  on  the  Triumph  has  come  down  to 
us  through  Isidore.4  (9)  ^vyycviKov  Kato-aowv,5  a  biography  of 
the  twelve  Caesars,  divided  into  eight  books.  (10)  ivrc/^a 
'PayaiW    av&pwv    irrun'iiuaVy    a    gallery    of    illustrious    men,    the 

1  Hist.  Var   6,  874-  896  (Roth).     .  2  De  Spect.  5. 

*  Ad  A  en.  7,  612:  Tria  suntgencra  trabearnm;  nnuiii  diis  sacratum,  quod 
est  tantnrn  de  purpura;  aliud  regum,  quod  est  purpureum,  habet  taiiero 
album  aliquid;  tertium  augurale  de  purpura  et  cooco.  The  other  passagl 
(Ad  Aen.  2,  683)  describes  the  different  priestly  caps,  the  apex,  the  tatalns, 
tod  the  galerus. 

4  Etym.  18,  2,  3. 

*  Perhaps  the  word  2rtfijia  shoul  1  be  supplied  before  <rvyytviK6v, 


LIST  OF  SUETONIUS'S  WOEKS.  459 

plan  of  which  was  followed  by  Jerome  in  his  history  cf  the 
worthies   of   the   church.     But  Suetoniuo's   catalogue   seems   to 
have  been  confined  to  those  eminent  in  literature,  and  tc  have 
treated   only   of   poets,   orators,    historians,    philosophers,   gram« 
marians,  and  rhetoricians.     Of  this  we  possess  considerable  frag- 
ments,   especially   the    account   of    the    grammarians,    and    the 
lives  of  Terence,  Horace,  and  Pliny.     (11)  irepl  iTna-rjfxoyv  Tropvuv, 
an  account  of  those  courtesans  who  had  become  renowned  through 
their  wit,  beauty,  or  genius.     (12)  De  Vitus  Corporations,  a  list  of 
bodily  defects,  written  perhaps  to  supplement  the  medical  works 
of  Celsus  and  Scribonius  Largus.     (13)  De  Institutions   Offici- 
wum,  a  manual  of  rank  as  fixed  by  law,  and  of  social  and  court 
etiquette.     This,  did  we  possess  it,  would  be  highly  interesting, 
and  might  throw  light  on  many  now  obscure  points.     (14)  De 
Reyibus,  in  three  books,  containing  short  biographies  of  the  most 
renowned  monarchs  in  each  of  the  three  divisions  of  the  globe, 
treated  in  his  usual  style  of  a  string  of  facts  coupled  with  a  list 
of  virtues  and  vices.     (15)  De  Rebus  Variis,  a  sort  of  ana,  of 
which  we  can  detect  but  few,  and  those  insignificant,  notices. 
(16)  Prata,  or  miscellaneous  subjects,  in  ten  or  perhaps  twelve 
books,  which  work  was  greatly  admired  not  only  in  the  centuries 
immediately  succeeding,  but  also  throughout  the  Middle  Ages. 
It  is  extremely  probable,  as  Teuffel  thinks,  that  many  of  the  fore- 
going treatises  may  really  have  been  simply  portions  of  the  Prat  a 
cited  under  their  separate  names.     The  first  eight  books  were 
confined  to  national  antiquities  and  other  similar  points  of  interest ; 
the  rest  were  given  to  natural  science  and  that  sort  of  popular 
philosophy  so  much  in  vogue  at  the  time,  which  finds  a  parallel 
between  every  fact  of  the  physical  universe  and  some  phenomenon 
of  the  human  body  or  mind.     They  were  modelled  on  Varro's 
writings,  which  to  a  large  extent  they  superseded,  except  for  great 
writers  like  Augustine,  who  went  back  to  the  fountain  head.1 
It  is  uncertain  whether  Suetonius  treated  history ;  but  a  work  on 
the  wars  between  Pompey  and  Caesar,  Antony  and  Octavian,  is 
indicated  by  some  notices  in  Dio  Cassius  and  Jerome.     All  these 
writings,  however,  are  lost,  and  the  solo  work  by  which  we  can 
form  an  estimate  of  Suetonius's  genius  is  his  lives  of  the  Caesars, 
which  we  fortunately  possess  almost  entire. 

Suetonius  possessed  in  a  high  degree  some  of  the  most  essential 
qualifications  of  a  biographer.     He  was  minute,  laborious,  and 

1  In  one  MS.  is  appended  to  Suetonius's  works  a  list  of  grammatical  ol>ser- 
vations  called  Differentiae  scrmonum  Remmi  Palaemonis  ex  libro  Sueteni 
Tranquilli  qui  imcribitur  Pratum.  Roth  prints  these,  but  does  not  belier* 
them  genuine. 


4G0  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

accurate  in  his  investigation  of  facts ;  he  neglected  nothing,  how. 
ever  trivial  or  even  offensive,  which  he  thought  threw  light  upon 
the  character  or  circumstances  of  those  he  described.  And  he  ia 
completely  impartial;  it  would  perhaps  be  more  correct  to  say 
indifferent.  His  accounts  have  been  well  compared  by  a  French 
writer  to  the  proces  verbal  of  the  law  courts.  They  are  dry, 
systematic,  and  uncoloured  by  partisanship  or  passion.  Such 
statements  are  valuable  in  themselves,  and  particularly  when  read 
as  a  pendant  to  the  history  of  Tacitus,  which  they  often  confirm, 
often  correct,  and  always  illustrate.  To  take  a  single  point ;  we 
see  from  Tacitus  how  it  was  that  the  emperors  were  so  odious  to 
the  aristocracy:  we  see  from  Suetonius  how  it  was  that  they 
became  the  idols  of  the  people.  Many  of  the  details  are  extremely 
disgusting,  but  this  strong  realism  is  a  Roman  characteristic,  and 
adds  to  their  value.  To  the  higher  attributes  of  a  historian 
Suetonius  has  no  pretension.  He  scarcely  touches  on  the  great 
historic  events,  and  never  ventures  a  comprehensive  judgment; 
nor  can  he  even  take  a  wide  survey  of  the  characters  he  pourtrays. 
But  he  is  a  faithful  collector  of  evidence  on  which  the  philosophic 
biographer  may  base  his  own  judgment ;  and  as  he  generally  gives 
his  sources,  which  are  authentic  in  almost  every  case,  we  may  use 
his  statements  with  perfect  confidence. 

His  style  is  coloured  with  rhetoric,  and  occasionally  with  poetic 
embellishment,  but  is  otherwise  terse  and  vigorous.  The  extreme 
curtness  he  cultivated  often  leads  him  into  something  bordering 
on  obscurity.  His  habit  of  alluding  to  sources  of  information 
instead  of  being  at  the  pains  to  describe  them  at  length,  while  it 
adds  to  the  neatness  of  his  periods,  detracts  from  its  value  to  our- 
selves. He  rises  but  rarely  into  eloquence,  and  still  more  rarely 
shows  dramatic  power.  The  best  known  of  his  descriptive  scenes 
is  the  death  of  Julius  Caesar,  but  that  of  Nero  is  almost  more 
graphic.  It  may  interest  the  reader  to  give  a  translation  of  it1 
The  scene  is  the  palace,  the  time,  the  night  before  his  death : — 

'*  He  thus  put  off  deciding  what  to  do  till  next  day.  But  about  midnight 
he  awoke,  and  finding  the  guard  gone,  leapt  out  of  bed,  and  sent  round 
messages  to  his  friends  ;  but  meeting  with  no  response,  he  himself,  accom- 
panied by  one  or  two  persons,  called  at  their  houses  in  turn.  But  every 
door  was  shut,  and  no  one  answered  his  inquiries,  sc  he  returned  to  his 
chamber  to  find  the  guard  had  fled,  carrying  with  them  the  entire  furniture, 
aud  with  the  rest  his  box  of  poison.  He  at  once  asked  for  Spicule  the 
mirmillo  or  some  other  trained  assassin  to  deal  the  fatal  blow,  but  couLl  get 
no  one.  This  seemed  to  strike  him  ;  he  cried  out,  *  Have  I  then  neither 
friend  nor  enemy  ? '  and  ran  forward  as  if  intending  to  throw  himself  into  the 


*  It  will  be  found  Ner.  47-49. 


THE  LIVES  OF  THE  CAESARS.  461 

rirer,     But  checking  his  steps  he  "begged  for  some  better  concealed  hiding- 
place  where  he  might  have  time  to  collect  his  thoughts.     The  freedman 
Phaon  offered  his  suburban  villa,  situate  four  miles  distant,  midway  between 
the  Salarian  and  Nomentane  roads  ;  so  just  as  he  was,  bare-foot  and  clad  in 
his  tunic,  he  threw  round  him  a  faded  cloak,  and  covering  his  head,  and 
binding  a  napkin  over  his  face,  mounted  a  horse  with  four  companions  of 
whom  Sporus  was  one.     On  starting  he  was  terrified  by  a  shock  of  earth- 
quake and  an  adverse  flash  oc  lightning,  and  heard  from  the  camp  hard  by 
the  shouts  of  the  soldiers  predicting  his  ruin  and  Galba's  triumph.     A  tra- 
veller, as  they  passed,  observed,  'Those  men  are  pursuing  Nero;'  another 
asked,  '  Is  there  any  news  in  town  about  Nero  ? '     His  horse  took  fright  at 
the  smell  of  a  dead  body  which  had  been  thrown  into  the  road  ;  in  the  con- 
fusion his  disguise  fell  off",  and  a  praetorian  soldier  recognised  and  saluted 
him.     Arrived  at  the   post-house,   they  left  their  horses,  and  struggled 
through  a  thorny  copse  by  following  a  track  in  the  sandy  soil,  but  were 
obliged  to  put  cloths  under  their  feet  as  they  walked.     However,   they 
arrived  safely  at  the  back  wall  of  the  villa.     Phaon  then  suggested  that  they 
should  hide  in  a  cavern  hard  by,  formed  by  a  heap  of  sand.     But  Nero 
declaring  that  he  would  not  be  buried  alive,  they  waited  a  little,  till  a  chance 
should  offer  of  entering  the  villa  unobserved.   Seeing  some  water  in  a  little 
pool,  he  scooped  some  up  with  his  hand,  and  just  before  drinking  said  '  This 
is  Nero's  distilled  water!'   then,  seeing  how  his  cloak  was  torn  by  the 
brambles,  he  peeled  off  the  thorns  from  the  branches  that  crossed  the  path. 
Then  crawling  on  all  fours,  he  passed  through  a  narrow  passage  out  of  the 
cavern  into  the  nearest  cellar,  and  there  laid  himself  on  a  pallet  made  of  old 
straw  and  lurnished  with  anything  but  a  comfortable  pillow.      Becoming 
both  hungry  and  thirsty,  he  refused  some  musty  bread  that  was  offered  him, 
but  drank  a  little  tepid  water.     To  free  himself  from  the  constant  shower  of 
abuse  that  those,  who  came  to  gaze  poured  on  him,  he  ordered  a  pit  to  be 
made  according  to  the  measure  of  his  body,  and  any  bits  of  marble  that  lay 
by  to  be  heaped  together,  and  water  and  wood  to  be  brought  for  the  proper 
disposing  of  the  corpse  ;  weeping  at  each  stage  of  the  proceedings,  and  saying 
every  now  and  then,  '  Oh  !  what  an  artist  the  world  is  losing  !  " 1 

While  thus  occupied  a  missive  was  brought  to  Phaon.  Nero  snatched  it 
out  of  his  hand,  and  read  that  he  had  been  decreed  an  enemy  by  the  senate, 
and  was  demanded  for  punishment '  according  to  the  manner  of  our  ancestors.' 
He  asked  what  this  meant.  Being  told  that  he  would  be  stripped  naked, 
his  neck  fixed  in  a  pitchfork,  and  his  back  scourged  until  he  was  dead,  he 
seized  in  his  terror  two  daggers  which  he  had  brought  with  him,  but  after 
feeling  their  edge  put  them  back  into  their  sheaths,  alleging  that  the  fated 
hour  had  not  yet  come.  Sometimes  he  would  ask  Sporus  to  raise  the  funeral 
lamentation,  then  he  would  implore  some  one  to  set  him  an  example  of 
courage  by  dying  first ;  sometimes  he  would  chide  his  own  irresoluteness  by 
•aying — '  I  am  a  base  degenerate  man  to  live  !  This  does  not  beseem  Nero  ! 
We  must  be  steady  on  occasions  like  these — come,  rouse  yourself ! ' 2  Already 
the  horsemen  were  seen  approaching  who  had  received  orders  to  carry  him 
off  alive.     Crying  out  in  the  words  of  Homer  : 

•The  noise  of  swift-footed  steeds  strikes  my  ears,* 

he  drove  the  weapon  into  his  throat  with  the  help  of  his  secretary  Epaphro- 
ditus,  and  immediately  fell  back  half-dead.  The  centurion  now  arrived,  and, 
under  the  pretence  of  assisting  him,  put  his  cloak  to  the  wound ;  Nero  oulj 

1  Qualis  artifex  pereo. 

•  Many  of  these  ejaculations  are  in  Greek      On  this  see  note  L  p.  87 


462  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

replied,  '  Too  late  !'  and  '  This  is  your  loyalty  !'  With  these  words  he  diec\ 
his  eyes  being  quite  glazed,  and  starting  out  in  a  manner  horrible  to  witness, 
His  continual  and  earnest  petition  had  been  that  no  one  should  have  posses* 
gion  of  his  head,  but  that  come  what  would,  he  might  be  buried  whole. 
This  Talus,  Galba's  freedman,  granted." 

It  will  be  seen  that  his  narrative,  though  not  lofty,  is  masterly^ 
clear,  and  impressive. 

Besides  Suetonius  we  have  a  historian,  though  a  minor  one,  in 
P.  Annius  Florus,1  who  is  now  generally  identified  with  the 
rhetorician  and  poet  mentioned  more  than  once  by  Pliny,  and 
author  of  a  dialogue,  "  Vergilius  Orator  an  Poeta,"  and  some  lines 
De  Basis  and  De  Qualitate  Vitae.2  Little  is  known  of  his  life,  except 
that  he  was  a  youth  in  the  time  of  Domitian,  was  vanquished  at 
the  Capitoline  contest  through  unjust  partiality,  and  settled  at 
Tarraco  as  a  professional  rhetorician.  Under  Hadrian  he  returned 
to  Pome,  and  probably  did  not  survive  his  reign.  The  epitome 
of  Livy's  history,  or  rather  the  wars  of  it,  from  the  foundation  of 
Pome  to  the  era  of  Augustus,  in  two  short  books,  is  a  pretentious 
and  smartly  written  work.  But  it  shows  no  independent  investiga- 
tion, and  no  power  of  impartial  judgment.  Its  views  of  the  con- 
stitution 3  are  even  more  superficial  than  those  of  Livy.  The  first 
book  ends  with  the  Gracchi,  after  whom,  according  to  the  author, 
the  decline  began.  The  frequent  moral  declamations  were  greatly 
to  the  taste  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  throughout  them  Floras  was 
a  favourite.  Abridgments  were  now  the  fashion ;  perhaps  that  of 
Pompeius  Trogus  by  Justin  us  belongs  to  this  reign.4  Many  his- 
torians wrote  in  Greek. 

Jurisprudence  was  also  actively  cultivated.  We  have  the  two 
great  names  of  Salvius  Julianus  and  Sex.  Pomponius,  botli  of 
whom  continued  to  write  under  the  Antonines.  They  were  nearlj 
of  an  age.  Pomponius,  we  infer  from  his  own  words,5  was  born 
somewhere  about  84  a.d.,  and  as  he  lived  to  a  great  age,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  he  survived  his  brother  jurist.  Both  enjoyed  for  several 
centuries  a  hijh  and  deserved  reputation.  The  rise  of  philoso- 
phical jurisp  udence  coincides  with  the  decline  of  all  other  litera- 
ture. It  must  be  considered  to  belong  to  science  rather  than 
letters,  and  is  far  too  wide  a  subject  to  be  more  than  merely 
noticed  here.  Both  these  authors  wrote  a  digest,  as  well  as 
numerous  oth  r  works.  The  best-known  popular  treatise  of  Pom- 
ponius was  his  Enchiridion,  or  Manual  of  the  Law  of  Nations, 

*  Usually  (from  the  Cod.  Bamberg.)  Julius  Floras  ;  but  Mommsen  consider! 
this  a  corruption. 

2  Riese,  Anthol.  Lai  p.  168-70  ;  ib.  No.  87,  p.  101.  Some  have  ascribed 
the  Pervigilium  Venet  is  to  him. 

9  ii  1.  4  See  back  page  331.  8  Dig.  xL  5,  20 


FRONTO.  4G3 

containing  a  sketcli  of  the  history  of  Roman  law  and  jurisj)rudence 
until  the  time  of  Julian.1 

The  study  of  grammar  and  rhetoric  was  pursued  with  much 
industry,  but  by  persons  of  inferior  mark.  Antonius  Juliaxus, 
a  Spaniard,  some  account  of  whom  is  given  by  Gellius,2  kept  up 
the  older  style  as  against  the  new  African  fashion.  His  declama- 
tions havo  perished ;  but  those  of  Calpurnius  Flaccus  still 
remain.  The  chief  rhetoricians  seem  to  have  confined  themselves 
to  declaiming  in  Greek.  The  celebrated  Favorinus,  at  once  philo- 
sopher, rhetorician,  and  minute  grammarian,  was  one  of  the  most 
popular.  Terentius  Scaurus  wrote  a  book  on  Latin  grammar, 
and  commentaries  on  Plautus  and  VirgiL  We  have  his  treatise 
De  Orthorjraphia,  which  contains  many  rare  ancient  forms.  His 
evident  desire  to  be  brief  has  caused  some  obscurity.  The  author 
formed  his  language  on  the  older  models ;  like  Suetonius,  follow- 
ing Pliny,  and  through  him,  the  classical  period. 

Philosophers  abounded  in  this  age,  and  one  at  least,  Plutarch, 
has  attained  the  highest  renown.  As  he,  in  common  with  all 
the  rest,  wrote  in  Greek,  no  more  will  be  said  about  them  here. 

A  medical  writer  of  some  note,  whose  two  works  on  acute  (celeres 
passioncs)  and  chronic  (turdae)  diseases  have  reached  us,  is  Caelius 
Aurelianus.  His  exact  date  is  not  known.  But  as  he  nevcT 
alludes  to  Galen,  it  is  probable  he  lived  before  him.  He  was  born 
at  Sicca  in  Numidia,  and  chiefly  fallowed  Soranus. 

The  reigns  of  Antoninus  Pius  ami  his  son,  the  saintly  M. 
Aurelius,  covered  a  space  of  fully  two  years,  during  which  good 
government  and  consistent  patronage  did  all  they  could  for  letters. 
]iut  though  the  emperor  could  give  the  tune  to  such  literature  as 
existed,  he  could  not  revive  the  old  force  and  spirit,  which  were 
gone  forever.  The  Romans  now  showed  alJ  t.hp  signs  of  a  decay- 
in*?  peopl  j.  The  loss  of  serious  interest  in  anything,  even  in 
pleasure,  argues  a  reduced  mental  calibre  ,  and  the  substitution  of 
minute  learning  for  original  thought  always  marks  an  irrecover- 
able decadence.  The  chief  writer  during  the  earlier  part  of  this 
period  is  M.  Cornelius  Fronto  (90-1 C 8  a.d.),  a  native  of  Cirta, 
in  Nuraidia,  who  had  been  held  under  Hadrian  to  be  the  first 
pleader  of  the  day;  and  now  rose  to  even  greater  influence  from 
being  intrusted  with  the  education  of  the  two  young  Caesars,  M. 
Aurelius  and  L.  Verus.  Fronto  suffered  acutely  from  the  gout, 
and  the  tender  solicitude  displayed  by  Aurelius  for  his  preceptor's 
ailments  is  pleasant  to  see,  though  the  tone  of  condolence  is  some 
times  a  little  mawkish.     Fronto  was  a  thorough  pedant,  and  of 

1  For  these  writers,  see  TeufT.  §  345.  «  '.  4,  1. 


464  HISTOKY  OF  KOMAN  L1TEKATUKE. 

corrupt  taste.  He  had  all  the  clumsy  affectation  of  his  school 
Aurelius  adopted  his  teacher's  love  of  archaisms  with  such  zest 
that  even  Fronto  was  obliged  to  advise  a  more  popular  style. 
When  Aurelius  left  off  rhetoric  for  the  serious  study  of  philosophy, 
Fronto  tried  his  best  to  dissuade  him  from  such  apostasy.  In  his 
eyes  eloquence,  as  he  understood  it,  was  the  only  pursuit  worthy 
of  a  great  man.  In  later  life  Aurelius  arrived  at  better  canons  of 
judgment ;  in  his  Meditations  he  praises  Fronto's  goodness,1  but 
says  not  a  word  about  his  eloquence.  His  contemporaries  were 
less  reserved.  They  extolled  him  to  the  skies,  and  made  him 
their  oracle  of  all  wisdom.  Eumenius 2  says,  "he  is  the  second 
and  equal  glory  of  Koman  eloquence;"  and  Macrobius3  says, 
"  There  are  four  styles  of  speech ;  the  copious,  of  which  Cicero  is 
chief ;  the  terse,  in  which  Sallust  holds  sway ;  the  dry,4  which  is 
assigned  to  Fronto;  the  florid,  in  which  Pliny  luxuriates."  With 
testimonies  like  these  before  them,  and  the  knowledge  that  he 
had  been  raised  to  the  consulship  (143)  and  to  the  confidential 
friendship  of  two  emperors,  scholars  had  formed  a  high  estimate 
of  his  genius.  But  the  discovery  of  his  letters  by  Mai  (1815) 
undeceived  them.  Independently  of  their  false  taste,  which  can- 
not fail  to  strike  the  reader,  they  show  a  feeble  mind,  together 
with  a  lack  of  independence  and  self-reliance.  He  has,  however, 
a  good  naturel,  and  a  genial  self-conceit,  which  attracts  us  to  him, 
and  we  are  not  surprised  at  the  affection  of  his  pupil,  though  we 
suspect  it  has  led  him  to  exaggerate  his  master's  influence. 

Until  these  came  to  light,  scarcely  anything  was  known  of 
Fronto's  works.  Five  discussions  on  the  signification  of  words 
had  been  preserved  in  Gellius,  and  a  passage  in  which  he  violently 
attacks  the  Christians  in  Minucius  Felix.  But  the  letters  give  an  ex- 
cellent idea  of  his  mind,  i.e.  they  are  well  stocked  with  words,  and 
supply  as  little  as  possible  of  solid  information.  Family  matters, 
mutual  condolences,  pieces  of  advice,  interspersed  with  discussions 
on  eloquence,  form  their  staple.  The  collection  consisted  of  ten 
books,  five  written  to  Aurelius  as  heir-apparent,  and  five  to  him 
as  emperor.  But  we  have  lost  the  greater  part  of  the  latter  series, 
Of  Fronto's  numerous  other  writings  only  scattered  fragments  re- 
main. They  are  as  follows  : — (1)  Panegyric  speeches  addressed  to 
Hadrian5  and  Antoninus  (among  which  was  the  celebrated  one  on  his 

1  He  speaks  of  having  learnt  from  him  rb  iiria-raadai  on  rj  rvpavviK^ 
ficuTKavia  kcl\  iroiKi\ia  koX  vitoKpuris  kcl\  on  us  irriirav  ol  KaAov/xevoi  ovroi  xafl 
t)/j.7v  Evirarpidui  acropyorcpoi  -nds  elaiv. 

2  Paneg.  Constant.  14.  8  Sat.  v.  1. 

4  Siccum.     This  shows  more  acumen  than  we  should  have  expected  from 
Macrobius. 
6  Ep.  ad  M.  Caes  ii    1. 


AULUS  GELLIUS.  465 

British  victories  140  a.d.).  (2)  A  speech  returning  thanks  to  the 
senate  on  behalf  of  the  Carthaginians.  (3)  Speeches  for  the 
Bithynians  and  Ptolomaeenses.  (4)  Speeches  for  and  against  indi- 
viduals. (5)  The  speech  against  the  Christians  quoted  by  Minu- 
cius.  (6)  Appended  to  the  letters  are  also  some  Greek  epistles 
to  members  of  the  imperial  household,  a  consolation  from  Aure- 
lius  to  Fronto  on  the  death  of  his  grandson,  and  his  reply,  which 
is  a  mixture  of  desponding  pessimism  and  philological  pedantry.1 
(7)  Trifles  like  the  c/owtikos,  a  study  based  on  Plato's  theory  of 
love,  the  story  of  Arion,  the  feriae  alsienses,  in  which  he  humor- 
mirjy  advises  the  prince  to  take  a  holiday,  the  laudes  fund  et 
yalveriSy  a  rhetorical  exercise,2  show  that  he  was  quite  at  home 
m  a  less  ambitious  vein. 

The  best  example  of  his  style  and  habits  of  thought  is  found 
in  the  letters  De  Eloqumiia  on  p.  139  sqq.  of  Naber's  edition. 

His  life  was  soured  by  suffering  and  bereavement.  His  wife  and 
all  his  children  but  one  died  before  him,  and  he  himself  was  a 
victim  to  various  diseases.  His  interest  for  us  is  due  to  his  rela- 
tions with  Aurelius  and  the  general  dearth  at  that  period  of  first- 
rate  writers.  He  died  probably  before  the  year  169.  With 
Fronto 's  letters  are  found  a  considerable  number  of  those  of  Aure- 
lius, but  they  do  not  call  for  any  remark.  The  writings  that  have 
brought  him  the  purest  and  loftiest  fame  are  not  in  Latin  but  in 
Greek.     It  would  therefore  be  out  of  place  to  dwell  on  them  here. 

A  younger  contemporary  and  admirer  of  Fronto  is  Aulus 
Gellius  (125?— 175  a.d.),  author  of  the  Nodes  Atticae,  in  twenty 
books,  a  pleasant,  gossiping  work,  written  to  occupy  the  leisure  of 
his  sons,  and  containing  a  vast  amount  of  interesting  details  on 
literature  and  religious  or  antiquarian  lore.  Gellius  is  a  man  of 
email  mind,  but  makes  up  by  zeal  for  lack  of  power.  He  was 
trained  in  philosophy  under  Favorinus,  in  rhetoric  under  Antonius 
Julianus  and,  perhaps,  Fronto,  but  his  style  and  taste  are,  on  the 
whole,  purer  than  those  of  his  preceptors.  The  title  Nodes 
Atticae  was  cLosen,  primarily,  because  the  book  was  written  at 
A  thens  and  during  the  lucubrations  of  the  night ;  but  its  modesty 
was  also  a  recommendation  in  his  eyes.  The  subjects  are  very 
various,  but  grammar  or  topics  connected  with  it  preponderate. 
A  large  space  is  devoted  to  anecdotes,  literary  and  historical,  and 
among  these  are  found  both  the  most  interesting  and  the  best 
written  passages.  Another  element  of  importance  is  found  in  the 
quotations,  which  are  very  numerous,  from  ancient  authors.     The 

1  In  complaining  of  fate,  he  suddenly  breaks  off  with  the  worda :  Fata 
afando  appclh.ia  aiunt;  hcccinc  est  rede  f aril  §  7» 

2  On  this  see  a  fuller  account,  pp.  473,  474. 

2q 


466  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

reader  will   appreciate   the  value  of  these  from  the   continual 
references  to  Gellius  which  have  been  made  in  this  work.1 

The  style  of  Gellius  abounds  with  archaisms  and  rare  words, 
e.g.t  edulcare,  recentari,  aeruscator^  adulescentes  frugis,  elegans  ver~ 
borum,  and  shows  an  unnecessary  predilection  for  frequentatives.* 
It  is  obvious  that  in  his  day  men  had  ceased  to  feel  the  full  mean- 
ing of  the  words  they  used.      As  a  depraved  bodily  condition 
requires  larger  and  stronger  doses  of  physic  to  affect  it,  so  Gellius, 
when  his  subject  is  most  trivial,  strives  most  for  overcharged 
vigour  of  language.3    But  these  defects  are  less  conspicuous  in  the 
later  books,  where  his  thought  also  rises  not  unfrequently  into  a 
higher  region.      The  man's  nature  is   amiable  and  social;    he 
enlisted  the  help  of  his  friends  in  the  preparation  of  his  little 
essays,4  and  seems  to  have  been  on  kindly  terms  with  most  of  the 
chief  writers  of  the  day.     Among  the  ancients  his  admiration  waa 
chiefly  bestowed  on  Yirgil  and  Cicero  as  representatives  of  litera- 
ture, on  Varro  and  Nigidius  Figulus,5  as  representatives  of  science. 
His  power  of  criticism  is  narrowed  by  pedantry  and  small  passions, 
but  when  these  are  absent  he  can  use  his  judgment  well.6     Ho 
preserves  many  interesting  points  of  etymology7  and  grammar,8 
and  is  a  mine  of  archaic  quotation.     Among  contemporary  philo- 
sophers he  admires  most  Plutarch,  Favorinus,  and  Herodes  Atticus 
the  rival  of  Fronto.     He  smiles  at  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
some  regard  all  that  is  obsolete,  and  mentions  the  Ennianistae* 
with  half-disapproval.     But  his  own  bias  inclines  the  same  way, 
only  he  brings  more  taste  to  it  than  they.     On  the  whole  he  is  a 
very  interesting  writer,  and  the  last  that  can  be  called  in  any  way 
classical.     He  is  well  spoken  of  by  Augustine;10  and  Macrobius, 
though  he  scarcely  mentions   him,    pillages  his  works  without 
reserve.     His  eighth  book  is  lost,  but  the  table  of  contents  is 
fortunately  preserved. 

A  great  genius  belonging  to  this  time  is  the  jurist  Gaius  (110- 
180  a.d.).     His  nomen  is  not  known;  whence  some  have  sup- 

1  Some  of  the  more  interesting  chapters  in  his  work  may  be  referred  to  : — 
On  religion,  i.  7  ;  iv.  9  ;  iv.  11 ;  v.  12;  vi.  1.  On  law,  iv.  3;  iv.  4;  iv.  5; 
y.  19 ;  vii.  15  ;  x.  20.  On  Virgil,  i.  23 ;  ii.  3 ;  ii.  4  ;  v.  8  ;  vi.  6  ;  vii.  12; 
vii.  20  ;  ix.  9  ;  x.  16 ;  xiii.  1 ;  xiii.  20.  On  Sallust,  i.  15 ;  ii.  27;  iii.  1  ; 
iv.  15  ;  x.  20.     On  Ennius,  iv.  7  ;  vii.  2  ;  xi.  4;  xviii.  5. 

2  And  those  often  rare  ones,  as  solilavisse. 

•  E.g.  in  vii.  17,  where  he  poses  a  grammarian  as  to  the  signification  of 
obnoHus.     Compare  also  xiv.  5,  on  the  vocative  of  egregius. 

•  See  xir.  6.  »  See  iv.  9. 

•  See  esp.  xix.  9.  7  E.g.  iv.  1. 

8  Especially  iv.  17  ;  v.  21 ;  vii.  7,  9,  11 ;  xvi.  14 ;  xviii.  8,  9. 

•  xviii.  5.  io  Civ  Dei<  ix.  4. 


GAIUS.  467 

posed  tli at  he  never  camu  to  Rome.  But  this  is  both  extremely 
unlikely  in  itself,  and  contradicted  by  at  least  one  passage  of  his 
works.  He  was  a  professor  of  jurisprudence  for  many  j ears,  and 
from  the  style  of  his  extant  works  Teuffel  conjectures  that  they 
originated  from  oral  lectures.  It  is  astonishing  how  clear  even 
the  later  Latin  language  becomes  when  it  touches  on  congenial 
subjects,  such  as  agriculture  or  law.  The  ancient  legal  phraseology 
had  been  seriously  complained  of  as  being  so  technical  as  to  baffle 
all  but  experts  in  deciphering  its  meaning.  Horace  ridicules  the 
cunning  of  the  trained  legal  intellect  in  more  than  one  place. 
But  this  reproach  was  no  longer  just.  The  series  of  able  and 
thoughtful  writers  who  had  carried  out  a  successive  and  systematic 
treatment  of  law  since  the  Augustan  age  had  brought  into  it  such 
matchless  clearness,  that  they  have  formed  the  model  for  all  sub- 
sequent philosophic  jurists.  The  amalgamation  of  the  great  Stoic 
principles  of  natural  right,  the  equality  of  man,  and  the  jus 
gentium,  which  last  was  gradually  expanding  into  the  conception 
of  international  law,  contributed  to  make  jurisprudence  a  complete 
exponent  of  the  essential  character  of  the  Empire  as  the  "  polity 
of  the  human  race."  The  works  of  Gaius  included  seven  books 
Herum  Cotidianarum,Tvh\Qh,  like  the  work  of  Apuleius,  were  styled 
Aurei;  and  an  introduction  to  the  science  "»f  law,  called  Institu- 
tiones,  or  Instituta,  in  four  books.  These  were  published  161  a.d., 
and  at  once  established  themselves  as  the  most  popular  exposition 
of  the  subject.  Gaius  was  a  native  of  the  east,  but  of  what 
country  is  uncertain.  The  names  of  several  other  jurists  are 
preserved.  They  were  divided  into  two  classes,1  the  practicians, 
who  pleaded  or  responded,  and  the  regularly  endowed  professors 
of  jurisprudence.  Of  the  former  class  Sex.  Julius  Africanus 
was  the  most  celebrated  for  his  acute  intellect  and  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  his  definitions ;  Ulpius  Marcellus  for  his  deep  learn- 
ing and  the  prudence  of  his  decisions.  He  was  an  adviser  of  the 
emperor  Aurelius.  A  third  writer,  one  of  whose  treatises — that 
on  the  divisions  of  money,  weights,  and  measures, — is  still  extent* 
was  L.  Yolusius  Maecianus.  The  reader  is  referred  for  informa 
tion  on  this  subject  to  Teuffel's  work,  and  Poste's  edition  of  the 
Institutes  of  Gaius. 

Among  minor  authors  we  may  mention  C.  Sulpioius  Apolli 
Naris,  a  Carthaginian,  who  became  a  teacher  of  rhetoric  and 
grammar,  and  numbered  among  his  pupils  Atrlus  Gellius.  He 
and  Arruntius  Celsus  devoted  their  talents  for  the  most  part  to 
iubjects  of  archaic  interest.     Erudition  of  a  certain  kind  had  notf 

1  TcaflW,  §  356. 


468  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

become  universal,  and  was  discussed"  with  all  the  formality  and 
exuberance  of  public  debate.  The  disputations  of  the  meAufcval 
universities  seem  to  have  found  their  germ  in  these  animated 
discussions  on  trivial  subjects,  such  as  are  described  in  chapters  of 
Gellius  to  which  the  reader  has  already  been  referred.1 

Historical  research  nagged ;  epitomizers  had  possession  of  the 
field.  We  have  the  names  of  L.  Ampelius,  the  author  of  an 
abridged  "book  of  useful  information  on  various  subjects,"  history 
predominating,  called  Liber  Memorialise  which  still  remains ;  and 
of  Granius  Licinianus,  short  fragments  of  whose  Koman  history 
in  forty  books  are  left  to  us. 

Poetry  was  even  more  meagrely  represented.  Aulus  Gellius2 
has  preserved  a  translation  of  one  of  Plato's  epigrams,  which  he 
calls  ovk  a/ioro-o?,  by  a  contemporary  author,  whose  name  he  does 
not  give.  It  is  written  in  dimeter  iambics,  an  easier  measure  than 
the  hexameter,  and  therefore  more  within  the  reduced  capacity  of 
the  time.  The  loose  metrical  treatment  proceeds  not  so  much  from 
ignorance  of  the  laws  of  quantity  as  from  imitation  of  Hadrian's 
lax  style,3  and  perhaps  from  a  tendency,  now  no  longer  possible 
to  resist,  to  adopt  the  plebeian  methods  of  speech  and  rhythm  into 
the  domain  of  recognised  literature.  As  the  fragment  may  interest 
our  readers,  we  quote  it : 

**  Dum  semihiulco  savio 
Meum  puellum  savior, 
Dulcemque  florem  spirituf 
Duco  ex  aperto  tramite ; 
Animula  aegra  et  saucia 
Cueurrit  ad  labias  mihi, 
Rictunique  in  oris  pervium 
Et  labra  pueri  mo'lia, 
Rimata  itineri  transitus 
Ut  trausiliret,  nititur. 
Turn  si  morae  quid  pluscula© 
Fuisset  in  coetu  osculi 
Amoris  igni  percita 
Transisset,  et  nie  linqueret; 
Et  raira  prorsum  res  foret, 
Ut  ad  me  fierem  mortuus, 
Al  puerum  intus  viverem." 

In  the  fifth  and  last  lines  we  see  a  reversion  to  the  ante-classical 
irregularities  of  scansion.  The  reader  should  refer  to  the  remarks 
on  this  subject  on  page  20. 

Perhaps  the  much-disputed  poem  called  Pervigilium  Veneris 

1  Note  1,  p.  466.  2  xix   n 

*  The  personal  taste  of  the  emperors  now  greatly  helped  to  form  styl* 
This  should  not  be  forgotten  in  criticising  the  works  of  this  period. 


APULEIUS.  469 

belongs  to  this  epoch.1  It  is  printed  in  "Weber's  Corpus  Poetarum,* 
And  is  well  worth  reading  from  the  melancholy  despondency  that 
breathes  through  its  quiet  inspiration.  The  metre  is  the  trochaic 
tetrameter,  which  is  always  well  suited  to  the  Latin  language,  and 
which  here  appears  treated  with  Greek  strictness,  except  that  in 
lines  55,  62,  91,  a  spondee  is  used  in  the  fifth  foot  instead  of  a 
trochee.     The  refrain — 

"  Cras  amet  qui  nunquam  amavit,  quique  amavit,  eras  amet," 

may  be  called  the  "  last  word  "  of  expiring  epicureanism. 

The  last  writer  that  comes  before  us  is  the  rhetorician  and 
pseudo-philosopher,  L.  Apuleius.  He  was  born  at  Madaura,  in 
Africa,  114  a.d.3  and  calls  himself  Seminumida  et  Semigaetula.* 
His  parents  were  in  easy  circumstances,  and  sent  him  to  school  at 
Carthage,  which  was  fast  rising  to  the  highest  place  among  the 
seminaries  of  rhetoric.  By  his  father's  death  he  came  into  a  con- 
siderable fortune,  and  in  order  to  finish  his  education  spent  some 
time  at  Athens,  and  travelled  through  many  parts  of  the  East  hunting 
up  all  the  information  he  could  find  on  magic  and  necromancy, 
and  getting  himself  initiated  into  all  the  different  mysteries. 
About  136  he  came  to  Borne,  where  he  practised  at  the  bar  foi 
about  two  years.  He  then  returned  to  Madaura;  but  soon 
growing  discontented  determined  to  indulge  his  restless  craving  for 
travel  and  acquiring  knowledge.  He  therefore  set  out  for  Egypt, 
the  nurse  of  all  occult  wisdom,  and  the  centre  of  attraction  for  all 
curious  spirits.  On  his  way  he  fell  ill  and  was  detained  at  Oea, 
where  he  met  a  rich  widow  named  Pudentilla,  whom  in  course  of 
time  he  married.  Her  two  sons  had  not  been  averse  to  the  match, 
indeed  Apuleius  says  they  strongly  urged  it  forward.  But  very 
soon  they  found  their  step-father  an  inconvenience,  and  through 
their  uncle  Aemilianus  instituted  a  suit  against  him  on  the  ground 
of  his  having  bewitched  their  mother  into  marrying  him.  This 
serious  charge,  which  was  based  principally  on  the  disparity  of 
years,  Pudentilla  being  sixty  (though  her  husband  maintains  she  is 
only  forty),  Apuleius  refutes  in  his  Apologia*  a  valuable  relic  of 
the  time,  which  well  deserves  to  be  read.  The  accusation  had  been 
divided  into'  three  parts,  to  each  of  which  the  orator  replies.  The 
first  part  or  preamble  had  tried  to  excite  odium  against  him  by 
alleging  his  effeminacy  in  using  dentifrice,  in  possessing  a  mirror, 

1  Such  is  Teuffel's  opinion,  following  Biichelor,  L.  L.  §  358. 
•P.  1414. 

»  This  date  is  adopted  by  Charpentier.     Teuffel  (L.  L.  §  362,  2)  incline! 
to  a  later  date,  125  A.I). 
4  Apol.  23.  •  Soma  :imes  called  Pe  Magia, 


470  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

and  in  writing  lascivious  poems,  and  also  by  alluding  to  his  formcf 
poverty.  His  reply  to  this  is  ready  enough  ;  he  admits  that 
nature  has  favoured  him  with  a  handsome  person  of  which  he  is 
not  ashamed  of  trying  to  make  the  best ;  besides,  how  do  they 
know  his  mirror  is  not  used  for  optical  experiments?  As  to 
poverty,  if  he  had  been  poor,  he  gloried  in  tho  fact;1  many  great 
and  virtuous  men  had  been  so  too,  and  some  thought  poverty  an 
essential  part  of  virtue.  The  preamble  disposed  of,  he  proceeds  to 
the  more  serious  charge  of  magic.  He  has,  so  the  indictment  says, 
fascinated  a  child ;  he  has  bought  poisons ;  he  keeps  something 
uncanny  in  his  handkerchief,  probably  some  token  of  sorcery ;  he 
offers  nocturnal  sacrifices,  vestiges  of  which  of  a  suspicious  charac- 
ter have  been  found ;  and  he  worships  a  little  skeleton  he  has 
made  and  which  he  always  carries  about  with  him.  His  answer 
to  these  charges  is  as  follows : — the  child  was  epileptic  and  died 
without  his  aid ;  the  poisons  he  has  bought  for  purposes  of  natural 
science ;  the  image  he  carries  in  his  handkerchief  is  that  of  Plato's 
monarch  (vovs  /?ao-iAeus),  devotion  to  which  is  only  natural  in  a 
professed  Platonist ;  and  as  for  the  sacrifices,  they  are  pious 
prayers,  offered  outside  the  town  solely  in  order  to  profit  by  the 
peaceful  inspirations  which  the  country  awakens.  The  third  part 
of  the  indictment  concerned  his  marriage.  He  has  forced  the  lady's 
affections;  he  has  used  occult  arts  as  her  own  letters  show,  to  gain 
an  influence  over  her ;  love-letters  have  passed  between  them, 
which  is  a  suspicious  thing  when  the  lady  is  sixty  years  of  age ; 
the  marriage  was  celebrated  out  of  Oea ;  and  last  but  not  least,  he 
has  got  possession  of  her  very  considerable  fortune.  His  answers  are 
equally  to  the  point  here.  So  far  from  being  unwilling  to  espouse 
him  or  needing  any  compulsion,  the  good  lady  with  difficulty  waited 
till  her  sons  came  of  age,  and  then  brooked  no  further  delay; 
moreover  he  had  not  pressed  his  suit,  though  her  sons  themselves 
had  strongly  wished  him  to  do  so ;  as  regards  the  correspondence, 
a  son  who  reads  his  mother's  private  letters  is  hardly  a  witness  to 
command  confidence ;  as  regards  her  age  she  is  forty,  not  sixty ; 
as  regards  the  place  of  her  marriage  both  of  them  preferred  the 
country  to  the  town ;  and  as  regards  the  fortune,  which  he  denies 
to  be  a  rich  one,  the  will  provides  that  on  her  death  it  shall  revert 
to  hei  sons.  Having  now  completed  his  argument  he  lets  loose 
the  flood-gates  of  his  satire ;  and  with  a  violence,  an  indecency, 
Mid  a  dragging  to  light  of  home  secrets,  scarcely  to  be  paralleled 

1  The  word  pauperta&  mnst  be  used  in  a  limited  sense,  as  it  is  by  Horace, 
paup'.remquc  dives  me  petit;  or  else  we  must  suppose  that  Apuleius  had 
atlu.uidered  his  fortune  in  his  travels. 


APULEIUS.  471 

except  in  some  recent  trials,  he  flays  the  reputation  of  uncle  and 
rephews,  and  triumphantly  appeals  to  the  judge  to  give  a  verdict 
in  his  favour.1 

We  next  find  him  at  Carthage  where  he  gave  public  lectures  on 
rhetoric.  He  had  enough  real  ability  joined  with  his  affectation 
of  wisdom  to  ensure  his  success  in  this  sphere.  Accordingly  we 
find  that  he  attained  not  only  all  the  civil  honours  that  the  city 
had  to  bestow,  but  also  the  pontificate  of  Aesculapius,  a  position 
even  more  gratifying  to  his  tastes.  During  his  career  as  a 
rhetorician  he  wrote  the  Florida,  which  consists  for  the  most 
part  of  selected  passages  from  his  public  discourses.  It  is  now 
divided  into  four  books,  but  apparently  at  first  had  no  such  divi- 
sion. It  embraces  specimens  of  eloquence  on  all  kinds  of  subjects, 
in  a  middle  style  between  the  comparatively  natural  one  of  his 
ipologia  and  the  congeries  of  styles  of  all  periods  which  his  latest 
grorks  present.  In  these  morceaux,  some  of  which  are  designed 
is  themes  for  improvisation,  he  pretends  to  an  acquaintance  with 
^he  whole  field  of  knowledge.  As  a  consequence,  it  is  obvious  that 
nis  knowledge  is  nowhere  very  deep.  He  was  equally  fluent  in 
Greek  and  Latin,  and  frequently  passed  from  one  language  to  the 
other  at  a  moment's  notice. 

He  now  cultivated  that  peculiar  style  which  we  see  fully  matured 
in  his  Metamorphoses.  It  is  a  mixture  of  poetical  and  prose 
diction,  of  archaisms  and  modernisms,  of  rare  native  and  foreign 
terms,  of  solecisms,  conceits,  and  quotations,  which  render  it  re- 
pulsive to  the  reader  and  betray  the  chaotic  state  of  its  creator's 
canons  of  taste.  The  story  is  copied  from  Lucian's  Aovkios  rj  "Ovo?, 
but  it  is  on  a  larger  scale,  and  many  insertions  occur,  such  as 
adventures  with  bandits  or  magicians ;  accounts  of  jugglers,  priests 
of  Cybele,  and  other  vagrants ;  details  on  the  arts ;  a  description  of 
an  opera  ;  licentious  stories ;  and,  above  all,  the  pretty  tale  of  Cupid 
and  Psyche,2  which  came  originally  from  the  East,  but  in  its  present 
form  seems  rather  to  be  modelled  on  a  Greek  redaction.  "  The 
golden  ass  of  Apuleius,"  as  the  eleven  books  of  Metamorphoses 
are  called  by  their  admirers,  was  by  no  means  thought  so  well  of 
in  antiquity  as  it  is  now.  Macrobius  expresses  his  wonder  that 
a  serious  philosopher  should  have  spent  time  on  such  trifles.  St 
JLugustine  seems  to  think  it  possible  the  story  may  be  a  true  one : 
"  aut  indicavit  aut  finxit."  It  is  a  fictitious  autobiography,  narrating 
the  adventures  of  the  author's  youth ;  how  he  was  tried  for  the 
murder  of  three  leather-bottles  and  condemned ;  how  he  was  vivified 
by  an  enchantress  with  whom  he  was  in  love ;  how  he  wished  to 

1  Tlu  case  was  tried  before  the  Proconsul  Claudius  Maximus. 
*  It  will  be  found  Metam.  iv.  28 — vi.  24. 


472  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

follow  her  through  the  air  as  a  bird,  hat  owing  to  a  mistake  of  hei 
maid3  was  transformed  into  an  ass ;  how  he  met  many  strange  ad« 
ventures  in  his  search  for  the  rose-leaves  which  alone  could  restore 
his  lost  human  form.  The  change  of  shape  gave  him  many  chance* 
of  observing  men  and  women  :  among  other  incidents  he  is  treated 
with  disdain  by  his  own  horse  and  mule,  and  severely  beaten  by 
his  groom.  He  hears  his  character  openly  defamed ;  his  resent- 
ment  at  this,  and  the  frequent  attempts  he  makes  to  assert  his 
rationality,  are  among  the  most  ludicrous  parts  of  the  book ;  finally, 
after  many  adventures,  he  is  restored  to  human  shape  by  some 
priests  of  Isis  or  Osiris,  to  whose  service  he  devotes  himself  for 
the  rest  of  his  life. 

Some  have  considered  this  extravagant  story  to  be  an  allegory,1 
others,  again,  a  covert  satire  on  the  vices  of  his  countrymen.  This 
latter  supposition  we  may  at  once  discard.  The  former  is  not 
unlikely,  though  the  exact  explanation  of  it  will  be  a  matter  of 
uncertainty.  Perhaps  the  ass  symbolizes  sensuality ;  the  rose-leaves, 
science ;  the  priests  of  Isis,  either  the  Platonic  philosophy,  or  the 
Mysteries  ;  the  return  to  human  shape,  holiness  or  virtue.  It  is 
also  possible  that  it  may  be  a  plea  for  paganism  against  the  new 
religious  elements  that  were  gathering  strength  at  Carthage ;  but 
if  so,  it  is  hard  to  see  why  he  should  have  chosen  as  his  model  the 
atheistic  story  of  Lucian.  In  a  similar  manner  the  story  of  Cupid 
and  Psyche  has  been  made  a  type  of  the  progress  of  the  souL 
Apuleius  was  one  of  those  minds  not  uncommon  in  a  decaying 
civilization,  in  which  extreme  quasi-r&ligious  exaltation  alternates 
with  impure  hilarity.  He  is  a  licentious  mystic;  a  would-be 
magician;2  a  hierophant  of  pretentious  sanctity,  something  between 
a  Cagliostro  and  a  Swedenborg ;  a  type  altogether  new  in  Eoman 
literature,  and  a  gloomy  index  of  its  speedy  falL 

Besides  these  works  of  Apuleius,  we  possess  some  short  philoso- 
phical tracts,  embodying  some  of  his  Platonist  and  Pythagorean 
doctrines.  They  are  Do  deo  Socratis,  De  Dogmate  Platmiis  in  three 
books,  and  the  De  Mundo,  a  popular  theologico-scientific  exposition 
drawn  from  Aristotle.  The  general  tenor  of  these  works  will  be 
considered  in  the  next  chapter,  as  their  bearing  on  the  thought 
of  the  times  gives  them  considerable  importance. 

1  Apuleius  himself  (i.  1)  calls  it  a  Milesian  tale  (see  App.  to  ch.  3).  These 
•re  very  generally  condemned  by  the  classical  writers.  But  there  is  no  doubt 
they  were  very  largely  read  sub  rota*  When  Crassus  was  defeated  in  Parthia, 
the  king  Surenas  is  reported  to  have  been  greatly  struck  with  the  licentious 
novels  which  the  Roman  officers  read  during  the  campaign. 

8  St  Augustine  fully  believed  that  he  and  Apollonius  of  Tyana  were  workeH 
of  (demoniacal)  miracles. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

State  of  Philosophical  and  Eeligious  Thought  during  thb 
Period  of  the  Antonines — Conclusion. 

During  the  second  century  after  Christ  we  have  the  remarkable 
spectacle  of  the  renaissance  of  Greek  literature.  The  eloquence 
which  had  so  long  been  silent  now  was  heard  again  in  Dio  Chry- 
sostom,  the  delicate  artillery  of  Attic  wit  was  revived  by  Lucian, 
the  dignity  of  sublime  thought  was  upheld  by  Arrian  and  Marcus 
Aurelius.  It  should  be  remarked  that  the  Greeks  had  never  quite 
discontinued  the  art  of  eloquence.  When  their  own  political  in- 
dependence ended,  they  carried  their  talents  into  other  lands,  into 
Egypt,  India,  Asia  Minor,  sowing  colonies  of  intelligence  where- 
ever  they  went ;  but  the  chief  place  to  which  they  flocked  was 
Rome.  At  Rome  the  hold  they  gained  was  such  that  even 
tyranny  itself  could  not  loosen  it.  Their  light  spirits  and  plastic 
nature  made  them  adapt  themselves  to  every  fashion  without 
difficulty  and  without  regret ;  even  under  Tiberius  or  Domitian 
there  was  always  something  for  a  cultured  Greek  to  do.1 

Bhetoric  was  the  inheritance  of  the  dethroned  Greek  nation, 
and  they  clung  to  it  with  all  the  fondness  of  gratitude.  Long 
after  the  pacification  of  the  world  had  destroyed  all  the  subject- 
matter  of  oratory,  they  cherished  the  form  of  it,  and  practised  it 
with  a  zeal  proportioned  to  its  worthlessness.  Even  in  her  best 
days,  as  we  know  from  Thucydides,  Greece  had  been  a  victim  to 
fine  talking ;  the  words  of  her  delicious  language  seemed  by  their 
mere  sound  to  have  power  over  those  that  used  them ;  and  now 
that  patriotism  had  ceased  to  inspire  her  orators,  they  naturally 
sought  in  the  splendour  of  the  Asiatic  style  an  equivalent  for  the 
chaste  beauties  of  ancient  national  eloquence.  There  were  two  classes 
of  Greeks  at  this  period  who  effected  in  no  small  degree  the  general 
spread  of  culture.     These  were  the  rhetoro  and  the  sophists ,  pro- 

1  The  reader  is  referred  to  Champagny,  Lcs  Chars,  vols.  iii.  and  iv :  Martha, 
Les  Moralist™  romaines;  Gaston  Boisaier,  Lcs  Attionins;  Charpentier,  £cri* 
latins  sous  I'Empire. 


474  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

perly  speaking  distinct,  but  often  confounded  under  the  general 
name  of  sophist 

The  rhetors  proper  have  "been  already  described.  "We  need  only 
notice  here  the  gradually  increasing  insignificance  of  the  themea 
they  chose.  In  the  Claudian  era  the  points  discussed  were  either 
historical,  mythical,  or  legal.  All  had  some  reference,  however 
distant,  to  actual  pleading  before  a  court  of  law.  But  now  even 
this  element  of  reality  has  disappeared.  The  poetical  readings 
which  had  been  the  fashion  under  Domitian  gave  place  to  rhetorical 
ostentations  which  were  popular  in  proportion  to  their  frivolity  or 
misplaced  ingenuity.  The  heroes  of  Marathon,1  the  sages  of 
ancient  Greece,  had  once  been  the  objects  of  praise.  They  were 
now  made  the  objects  of  derision  and  invective.2  Speeches 
against  Socrates,  Achilles,  or  Homer,  and  in  favour  of  Busiris, 
were  commonly  delivered,  in  which  every  argument  was  acutely 
misapplied,  and  every  established  belief  acutely  combated.  Pane- 
gyrics of  cities,  gods,  or  heroes,  had  been  a  favourite  exercise  of 
the  orator's  art.  Now  these  panegyrics  were  expended  upon  the 
most  contemptible  themes,  infames  materiae  as  they  were  called. 
Fronto  sang  the  praises  of  idleness,  cf  fever,  of  the  vomit,  of 
gout,  of  smoke,  of  dust ;  Lucian,  in  a  speech  still  extant,  of  the 
fly ;  others  of  the  ass,  the  mouse,  the  flea  !  Such  were  the  detest- 
able travesties  into  which  Greek  eloquence  had  sunk.  Boman 
statesmen  frequently  displayed  their  talents  in  this  way ;  but  as  a 
rule  they  declaimed  in  Greek.  These  orations  were  delivered  in  a 
basilica  or  theatre,  and  for  two  days  previously  criers  ranged 
through  the  city,  advertising  the  inhabitants  of  the  lecturer's  name 
and  subject. 

Other  aspirants  to  fame,  gifted  with  less  refinement,  paraded 
the  streets  in  rags  and  filth,  and  railed  sardonically  at  all  the 
world,  mingling  flattery  of  the  crowd  with  abuse  of  the  great, 
and  of  all  the  restrictions  of  society.  These  were  the  street 
preachers  of  cynicism,  who  found  their  trade  by  no  means  an 
unprofitable  one.  Often,  after  a  few  years  of  squalid  abstinence 
and  quack  philosophy,  they  had  picked  up  enough  to  enable  them 
to  shave  their  beards,  don  the  robes  of  good  society,  and  end  their 
days  in  the  vicious  self-indulgence  which  was  the  original  inspirer 
of  their  tirades. 

Every  great  city  was  full  of  these  caterers  for  itching  ears,  the 

one  sort  fashionable,  the  other  vulgar,  but  both  equally  acceptable 

to  their  audience.     Some  more  ambitious  spirits,  of  whom  Apuleiua 

is  the  type,  not  content  with  success  in  a  single  town,  moved  from 

1  The  declaimers  of  Suasoriae  in  praise  of  the  heroes  of  old  were  con  temp 
taously  styled  MapaOwvofidxoi.  *  Delivered  by  Fronto. 


DIO  CHRYSOSTOM.  475 

place  to  place,  challenging  the  chief  sophist  in  each  city  t)  entcv 
the  lists  against  them.  If  he  declined  the  contest,  his  popularity 
was  at  an  end  for  ever.  If  he  accepted  it,  the  risk  u  as  enormous, 
lest  a  people  tired  of  his  eloquence  might  prefer  the  sound  of  a 
new  voice,  and  thus  force  on  him  the  humiliation  of  surrendering 
his  crown  and  his  titles  to  another.  For  in  their  delirious  enthu- 
siasm the  cities  of  Greeee  and  Asia  lavished  money,  honours,  im- 
munities, and  statues,  upon  the  mountebank  orators  who  pleased 
them.  Emperors  saluted  them  as  equals ;  the  people  chose  them  for 
ambassadors  ;  until  their  conceit  rose  to  such  a  height  as  almost  to 
pass  the  bounds  of  belief.1  And  their  morals,  it  will  readily  be 
guessed,  did  not  rise  above  their  intellectual  capacities.  Instead 
of  setting  an  example  of  virtue,  they  were  below  the  average  in 
licentiousness,  avarice,  and  envy.  Effeminate  in  mind,  extrava- 
gant in  purse,  they  are  perhaps  the  most  contemptible  of  all  those 
who  have  set  themselves  up  as  the  instructors  of  mankind. 

But  all  were  not  equally  debased.  Side  by  side  with  this 
truckling  to  popular  favour  was  a  genuine  attempt  to  preach  the 
simple  truths  of  morality  and  religion.  For  near  a  century  it  had 
been  recognised  that  certain  elements  of  philosophy  should  be 
given  forth  to  the  world.  Even  the  Stoics,  according  to  Lactantius,2 
had  declared  that  women  and  slaves  were  capable  of  philosophical 
pursuits.  Apuleius,  conspicuous  in  this  department  also,  was  a 
distinguished  itinerant  teacher  of  wisdom.  Lucian  at  one  time 
lectured  in  this  way.  But  the  most  eloquent  and  natural  of  all 
was  Dio  Chrysostom,  who,  though  a  Greek,  is  so  pleasing  a  type 
of  the  best  popular  morals  of  the  time,  that  we  may,  perhaps,  be 
excused  for  referring  to  him.  He  was  a  native  of  Bithynia,  but 
in  consequence  of  some  disagreement  with  his  countrymen,  he 
came  to  Rome  during  the  reign  of  Domitian.  Having  offended 
the  tyrant  by  his  freedom  of  speech,  he  was  compelled  to  flee  for 
his  life.  For  years  he  wandered  through  Greece  and  Macedonia 
in  the  guise  of  a  beggar,  doing  menial  work  for  his  bread,  but  often 
asked  to  display  his  eloquence  for  the  benefit  of  those  with  whom 
he  came  in  contact.  Once  while  present  at  the  Olympic  festival  and 
silently  standing  among  the  throng,  he  was  recognised  as  one  who 
could  speak  well,  and  compelled  to  harangue  the  assembled  multi- 
tudes. He  chose  for  his  subject  the  praises  of  Jupiter  Olympius, 
which  he  set  forth  with  such  majestic  eloquence  that  all  who  heard 
him  were  deeply  moved,  and  a  profound  silence,  broken  only  by  sobs 
of  emotion,  reigned  throughout  the  vast  crowd.     Other  stories  are 

1  One,  irritated  that  the  Emperor  Antoninus  did  not  bow  to  i  im  in  thf 
theatre,  called  out,  "  Caesar!  do  you  not  see  me  ?" 
*  lust.  I)iv.  iii.  23. 


476  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

tolrl  showing  the  effect  of  his  words.  On  one  occasion  he  recalled  a 
body  of  soldiers  to  their  allegiance;  on  another  he  quelled  a  sedition; 
on  a  third  he  rebuked  the  mob  of  Alexandria  for  its  immoral 
conduct,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  was  listened  to  without 
interruption.  When  Domitian's  death  allowed  him  to  return  to 
Rome,  he  maintained  the  same  courageous  attitude.  Trajan  often 
asked  his  advice,  and  he  discoursed  to  him  freely  on  the  greatness 
of  royalty  and  its  duties.  He  seems  to  have  held  a  lofty  view  of 
his  mission ;  he  calls  it  a  it popprja is  tepa,1  or  holy  proclamation, 
and  he  speaks  of  himself  as  a  Trpo<f>r}T7]$  dkf]6i<rTaTos  tt)s  dOavdrov 

What  he  taught,  therefore,  was  a  popular  moral  doctrine,  based 
upon  some  of  the  simpler  theories  of  philosophy,  such  as  were 
easily  intelligible  to  the  unlearned,  and  admitted  of  rhetorical  ampli- 
fication and  illustration  by  mythology  and  anecdote.  Considered  in 
one  way,  this  was  a  great  step  in  advance  from  the  total  neglect  of  the 
people  by  the  earlier  teachers  of  virtue.  It  shows  the  more  humane 
spirit  which  was  slowly  leavening  the  once  proud  and  exclusive 
possessors  of  intellectual  culture.  By  exciting  a  general  interest 
in  the  great  questions  of  our  being,  it  paved  the  way  for  a  readier 
reception  of  the  Gospel  among  those  classes  to  whom  it  was  chiefly 
preached.  But  at  the  same  time  by  its  want  of  authority,  depending 
as  it  did  solely  on  the  eloquence  or  benevolence  of  the  individual 
sophist,  it  prevented  the  possibility  of  anything  like  a  systematic 
amelioration  of  the  people's  character.  This  side  of  the  question, 
however,  is  too  wide  to  be  more  than  alluded  to  here,  and  it  is 
besides  foreign  to  our  present  subject  We  must  turn  to  consider 
the  state  of  cultured  thought  on  matters  philosophical  and  religious ; 
a  point  of  great  importance  as  bearing  on  the  decline  and  speedy 
extinction  of  literary  effort  in  Rome. 

To  begin  with  philosophy.  We  have  seen  that  Rome  had 
gradually  become  a  centre  of  free  thought,  as  it  had  become  a 
centre  of  vice  and  luxury.  The  prejudices  against  philosophy 
complained  of  by  Cicero,  and  even  by  Seneca,  had  now  almost 
vanished.  Instead  of  being  indifferent,  men  took  to  it  so  readily 
as  to  excite  the  fears  of  more  than  one  emperor.  Nero  had  per- 
secuted philosophers ;  Vespasian  had  removed  them  from  Rome, 
Domitian  from  Italy.  After  Domitian's  death,  they  returned  with 
greater  influence  than  ever.  Hadrian  and  Antoninus  were  favour- 
able to  them.  Aurelius  was  himself  one  of  their  number.  Philo- 
sophy had  had  its  martyrs  ;3  and,  after  suffering,  it  had  turned 

Dio.  xvii.  p.  464.  2  Id   xii   p   397 

*  Epictetus  (Dissert,  iii.  26)  uses  the  very  word — Qeov  SiaKovot  *W 
wiprvpes.     Christianity  hallowed  this  term,  as  it  did  so  many  others. 


GRADUAL  UNION  OF  HIILOSOPIIY  AND  RHETORIC.         477 

towards  prosely  tism.  The  provinces  had  embraced  it  with  ( nthu 
sidsra.  The  narrow  prejudice  which  had  envied  their  intellectual 
culture1  now  envied  their  moral  advancement;  but  equally  without 
effect  Long  before  this,  Musonius  Rufus,  an  aristocratic  Stoic,  had 
admitted  slaves  to  his  lectures,2  and  at  the  risk  of  his  life  had 
preached  peace  to  the  armies  of  Vitellius  and  Vespasian.3  And 
this  wide-spread  movement  had,  as  we  have  seen,  been  continued 
by  men  like  Dio,  and  later  still  by  Apuleius. 

But  by  thus  gaining  in  width  it  lost  greatly  in  depth.  There 
is  a  danger  when  teaching  becomes  mainly  practical  of  its  losing 
sight  of  the  fundamental  laws  amid  the  multitude  of  details,  and 
attaching  itself  to  trifles.  There  is  a  superstition  in  philosophy 
as  well  as  in  religion.  Epictetus  gives  directions  for  the  trimming 
of  the  beard  in  a  tone  as  serious  as  if  he  were  speaking  of  the 
summum  bonum.  And  stoicism  from  the  very  first,  by  its  absurd 
paradox  that  all  faults  are  equal,  obviously  fell  into  this  very  snare, 
which,  the  moment  it  was  popularized,  could  not  fail  with  dis^ 
astrous  effect  to  come  to  the  surface. 

Again,  the  intrusive  element  of  rhetoric  greatly  impeded  strength 
of  argument.  In  all  practical  teaching  the  point  of  the  lesson  is 
known  beforehand ;  it  is  the  manner  of  enforcing  it  that  alone 
excites  interest.  Thus  philosophy  and  rhetoric,  which  had  hitherto 
been  implacable  foes,  became  reconciled  in  the  furtherance  of  a 
common  object.  Seneca  had  affected  to  despise  learning;  Gellius 
and  Favorinus,  on  the  contrary,  delighted  in  its  minutest  subtleties. 
Philosophers  now  declaimed  like  rhetoricians,  and  indifferently  in 
either  language.  But  in  proportion  as  they  addressed  a  larger 
public,  it  became  more  necessary  to  use  the  Greek,  which  was  now 
the  language  of  the  civilized  world.  Favorinus,  Epictetus,  M. 
Aurelius  himself,  all  wrote  and  generally  spoke  in  it. 

The  reconciliation  between  philosophy  and  religion  was  not  less 
remarkable  than  that  between  philosophy  and  rhetoric.  It  seemed 
as  if  all  the  separate  domains  of  thought  were  gradually  being  fused 
into  a  kind  of  popular  moral  culture.  The  old  philosophers  had 
as  a  rule  kept  morals  altogether  distinct  from  religion.  Epictetus 
and  Aurelius  make  the  two  altogether  identic  ll.  The  old  philo- 
sophers had  kept  away  from  the  temples,  01,  if  they  went,  had 
taken  pains  to  mock  the  ceremonies  they  performed  and  to  an- 
nounce that  their  conformity  was  a  pure  matter  of  custom.  The 
new  philosophers  were  strictly  regular  in  their  religious  worship, 
and  not  only  observed  and  respected,  but  earnestly  defended  the 

1  See  Juvenal :  Gallia  causitlicos  docuit  facunda  Britaimos  De  comluceudf 
loquitur  iam  rhetore  Thule,  xv.  1112. 
*  Dissert  19.  »  Tac.  Hist  Hi.  81. 


478  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE 

entire  popular  cult.  The  nobler  side  of  this  "  reconciliation "  ifl 
shown  in  Plutarch,  the  grosser  and  more  material  side  in  Apuleius; 
but  in  both  there  is  no  mistaking  its  reality.  Plutarch's  idea  of 
philosophy  is  "to  attain  a  truer  knowledge  of  God."1  Philo- 
stratus,  when  asked  what  wisdom  was,  replied,  "  the  science  of 
prayers  and  sacrifices."2  These  men  sought  their  knowledge  of 
the  Divine,  not,  as  did  Aristotle,  in  speculative  thought,  but  in 
the  collecting  and  explaining  of  legends.  Stoicism  had  sought  by 
compromise  after  compromise  to  satisfy  the  general  craving  for  a 
religious  philosophy  reconcilable  with  the  popular  superstition- 
Its  great  exponents  had  stretched  the  elasticity  of  their  system  to 
the  uttermost.  They  had  given  to  their  Supreme  Being  the  namo 
of  Jove,  they  had  admitted  all  the  other  deities  of  the  Pantheon  as 
emanations  or  attributes  of  the  Supreme,  they  had  justified  augury 
by  their  theory  of  fate,  they  had  explained  away  all  the  inconsis- 
tencies and  immoralities  of  the  popular  creed  by  an  elaborate 
system  of  allegory ;  but  yet  they  had  failed  to  content  the  religious 
masses,  who  divined  as  by  an  instinct  the  hollow  and  artificial 
character  of  this  fabric  of  compromise.  Hence  there  arose  a  new 
school  more  suited  to  the  requirements  of  the  time,  which  gave 
itself  out  as  Platonist.  This  new  philosophy  was  anything  but  a 
genuine  reproduction  of  the  thought  of  the  great  Athenian.  With 
some  of  his  more  popular  and  especially  his  oriental  conceptions, 
it  combined  a  mass  of  alien  importations  drawn  from  foreign  cults, 
and  in  particular  from  Egypt. 

We  read  how  Juvenal  deplores  the  inroads  of  Eastern  super- 
stition into  Rome.3  Syria,  Babylon,  and  Asia  Minor  had  added 
their  mysteries  to  the  lloman  ceremonial.  Astrologers  were  con- 
sulted by  small  and  great ;  the  Galli  or  eunuch-priests  of  Cybele 
were  among  the  most  influential  bodies  in  Borne ;  and  the  impure 
goddess  Isis  was  universally  worshipped.4  Egypt,  which  in 
classic  times  had  been  held  as  the  stronghold  of  bestial  super- 
stition, was  now  spoken  of  as  a  "  Holy  Land,"  and  "  the  temple 
of  the  universe."  5  The  Stoics  had  studied  in  books,  or  by  question- 
ing their  own  mind ;  the  Platonists  sought  for  wisdom  by  travel- 
ling all  over  the  world.  Not  content  with  the  rites  already 
known,  they  raked  up  obscure  ceremonies  and  imported  strange 
mysteries.  Reflection  and  dialectic  were  no  longer  sufficient  to 
ensure  knowledge ;  asceticism,  devotion,  and  initiation,  were  neces- 
sary  for  divine  science.     The  idea  broached  by  Plato  in  thfl 

1  Pint.  Be  Defect.  Orac.  p.  410.  2  Vit.  Apol.  iv.  40. 

s  Jampridem  Syrus  in  Tiberim  defluxit  Orontes,  Juv.  iii.  62. 
4  Decemat  quodcunquf  volet  de  corpore  nostro  Isis,  Id.  xiii.  93. 
*  Henn.  2i 


THE  NEW  PLATONISM.  479 

Timaeus  of  intermediate  beings  between  the  gods  and  man, 
eeemcd  to  meet  their  requirements ;  and  accordingly  they  at  once 
adopted  it  An  entire  hierarchy  of  timquum  was  inagined,  and 
on  this  a  system  of  quasi-religious  philosophy  was  founded,  of 
which  Apuleius  is  the  popular  exponent. 

The  main  tenets  of  this,  the  last  attempt  to  explain  the  mystery 
of  the  universe  which  gained  currency  in  Rome,  were  as  follows — 
it  will  be  seen  how  completely  it  had  passed  from  philosophy 
to  theosophy: — The  supreme  being  is  one,  eternal,  absolute,  in- 
describable, and  incomprehensible;  but  may  be  envisaged  by  the 
soul  for  a  moment  like  a  flash  of  lightning.1  The  great  gods  are 
of  two  kinds,  visible,  as  the  sun  and  stars,  and  invisible,  as  Jupiter 
and  the  rest ;  both  these  are  inaccessible  to  human  communion. 
Then  come  the  daemons  in  their  order,  and  with  these  man  holds 
intercourse.  Plutarch  had  adopted  a  tentative  and  incomplete  form 
of  this  doctrine,  e.g.  he  denied  the  visibility  of  Socrate's  daemon, 
and  spoke  of  the  death  of  Pan.  But  Apuleius  is  much  more 
thorough-going ;  he  supposes  all  the  daemons  to  be  at  once  im- 
mortal and  visible.  Each  great  god  has  a  daemon  or  double,  who 
loves  to  use  his  name ;  and  all  the  stories  of  the  gods  are  in 
reality  true  of  their  daemons.  In  a  moral  point  of  view,  daemons 
are  of  all  characters — good  and  bad,  cheerful  and  gloomy.2  Their 
interventions,  which  are  perpetual,  explain  what  the  stories  could 
not  explain,  viz.  the  idea  of  Providence.  In  fact  the  whole 
current  theory  of  the  supernatural  is  easily  explained  when  the 
existence  of  these  intermediate  beings  is  admitted.  Aware  that 
this  theory  wandered  far  from  Roman  ideas,  Apuleius  tries  to  re- 
concile it  with  the  national  religion  by  calling  the  daemons  genii, 
lares,  and  manes,  which  are  true  Italian  conceptions.  To  a  certain 
extent  the  device  succeeded ;  at  any  rate  the  new  philosophy  resulted 
in  making  devotees  of  the  higher  classes,  as  superstition  had  long 
since  done  with  the  people. 

It  seems  incredible  that  any  one  who  had  studied  the  Platonic 
dialogues  should  have  fancied  theories  like  these  to  be  their 
essence.  Nevertheless,  so  it  was.  Men  found  in  them  what 
they  wished  to  find,  and  perhaps  no  greater  witness  could  be 
given  to  the  immense  fertility  of  Plato's  thought.  However, 
when  these  conceptions  came  to  be  imported  into  philosophy,  it 
is  clear  that  philosophy  no  longer  knew  herseLi.  She  had  be- 
come hopelessly  unable  to  cope  with  the  problems  ot  actual  iiie  ; 
henceforth  there  was  nothing  left  but  the  rigours  of  the  ascetic  or 

1  De  deo  Socr.  3. 

2  E.g.  Those  of  Greece  are  cheerful  for  the  most  part,  those  of  Egypt 
gloomy. 


480  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

the  ecstacy  of  the  mystic.  Into  these  still  later  paths  we  shall  not 
follow  it.  Apuleius  is  the  last  Roman  who,  writing  in  the  Latin 
language,  pretends  to  succeed  to  the  line  of  thinkers  of  whom 
Varro,  Cicero,  and  Seneca,  were  the  chief.  It  is  true  he  is  im- 
measurably helow  them.  In  his  effeminate  union  of  licentious- 
ness and  mysticism  he  is  far  removed  from  the  masculine,  if  in- 
consistent, practical  wisdom  of  Seneca,  further  still  fiom  the 
glowing  patriotism  and  lofty  aspirations  of  Cicero.  Still  as  a 
type  of  his  age,  of  that  country  which  already  exercised,  and  was 
soon  to  exercise  in  a  far  higher  degree,  an  influence  on  the  thought 
of  the  world,1  he  is  well  worthy  of  attentive  study. 

We  may  now,  in  conclusion,  very  shortly  review  the  main 
features  in  the  history  of  Roman  literature  from  Ennius,  its  first 
conscious  originator,  until  the  close  of  the  Antonine  period. 

The  end  which  Ennius  had  set  before  him  was  two-fold,  to  fami- 
liarise his  countrymen  with  Greek  culture,  and  to  enlighten  their 
minds  from  error.  And  to  this  double  object  the  great  masters 
of  Roman  literature  remained  always  faithful  With  more  or 
less  power  and  success,  Terence,  Lucilius,  the  tragedians,  and 
even  the  mimists,  elevated  while  they  amused  their  popular 
audiences.  In  the  last  century  of  the  Republic,  literature  still 
addressed,  in  the  form  of  oratory,  the  great  masses  to  whom  scarce 
any  other  culture  was  accessible.  But  in  poetry  and  philosophy 
it  had  broken  with  them,  and  thus  showed  the  first  sign  of  with- 
drawal from  that  thoroughly  national  mission  with  which  the  old 
father  of  Latin  poetry  had  set  out.  Yet  this  very  exclusiveness  was 
not  without  its  use.  It  enabled  the  best  writers  to  aim  at  a  far  higher 
ideal  of  perfection  than  would  have  been  possible  for  a  popular 
author,  however  scrupulously  he  might  strive  for  excellence.  It 
enabled  the  best  minds  to  concentrate  their  efforts  upon  all  that 
was  most  strictly  national  because  most  strictly  aristocratic,  and 
thus  to  form  those  great  representative  works  of  Roman  thought 
and  style  which  are  found  in  the  writings  of  Cicero  and  Livy, 
and  the  poetry  of  Horace  and  Virgil.  The  responsibility  which, 
the  possession  of  culture  involves  was  now  acknowledged  only 
within  narrow  limits.  The  motto,  "  pingui  nil  mihi  cum  populo," 
was  strictly  followed,  and  all  the  best  literature  addressed  only  to 
a  select  circle.  Meanwhile  the  people,  for  whom  tragedy  and 
comedy  had  done  something,  however  little,  that  was  good, 
neglected  by  the  literary  world,  debased  by  bribery  and  the 
coarse  pleasures  of  conquest,  sunk  lower  and  lower  until  they 
had  become  the  brutal,  sensual  mob,  inaccessible  to  all  highei 
1  He  wag  an  African,  it  will  be  remembered. 


REVIEW  01  ROMAN  LITERATURE.  481 

influences,  which  satirists  and  philosophers  paint  in  such 
hideous  colours,  but  which  they  did  nothing  and  wrote 
nothing  to  impirve.  Then  came  the  era  of  the  decline,  in 
which,  for  the  first  time,  we  observe  that  literature  has  lost 
its  supremacy.  It  is  still  cultivated  with  enthusiasm,  and 
numbers  many  more  votaries  than  it  had  ever  done  before ; 
nevertheless,  its  influence  is  disputed,  and  with  success,  by 
other  forces;  by  tyranny  in  the  first  place,  by  a  defiant  philo- 
sophy which  set  itself  against  aesthetic  culture  in  the  second,  and 
by  revived  and  daily  increasing  superstition  in  the  third.  This  is 
the  beginning  of  the  people's  retaliation  on  those  who  should  have 
enlightened  them.  In  vain  do  emperors  issue  edicts  for  the  sup- 
pression of  foreign  rites ;  in  vain  do  courtly  satirists  or  fierce 
declaimers  complain  that  Kome  will  not  be  satisfied  with  ancestral 
beliefs  and  ancestral  virtues.  The  people  are  asserting  themselves 
in  the  sphere  of  thought,  as  they  had  asserted  themselves  in  the 
sphere  of  politics  ages  before.  But  the  difference  between  the 
two  peoples  was  immense.  The  one  had  consisted  of  virtuoi  a 
peasants  and  industrious  tradesmen,  work'ng  for  generations  to 
attain  what  they  knew  to  be  their  right ;  tne  other  was  formed 
of  slaves,  of  freedmen,  many  of  them  foreigners,  and  others 
engaged  in  occupations  by  no  means  honourable;  of  all  that  motley 
multitude  who  lived  on  Caesar's  rations  and  spent  their  days  in 
idleness,  in  the  circus,  and  in  crime.  Eotten  in  its  highest  circles, 
equally  rotten  in  its  lowest,  society  could  no  longer  be  regenerated 
by  any  of  the  forces  then  known  to  it.  The  national  superstitions, 
out  of  which  literature  had  at  first  emerged,  were  replaced  by 
cosmopolitan  superstitions  of  an  infinitely  worse  kind,  which 
threatened  to  engulf  it  at  its  close,  and  against  which  in  the  persons 
of  such  men  as  Seneca,  Juvenal,  and  Tacitus,  it  strove  for  a  while 
with  convulsive  vigour  to  make  head.  But  these  great  opiiits 
only  arrested,  they  could  not  avert,  the  inevitable  decay.  Where 
public  morals  are  corrupt,  where  national  life  is  diseased,  it  is 
impossible  that  literature  can  show  a  healthy  life.  The  despair 
that  has  taken  possession  of  men's  souls,  which  sheds  n  misan- 
thropic gloom  over  the  writings  of  the  elder  Plinv  >ua  embitters 
even  the  noble  mind  of  Tacitus,  results  from  a  conviction  that 
things  are  incurably  wrong,  and  from  a  feeling  that  there  is  no 
conceivable  remedy.  Men  of  feebler  mould  strive  to  forget  them- 
selves in  exciting  pleasures,  as  Statius  and  Martial ;  or  in  courtly 
society,  as  the  younger  Pliny ;  or  in  fond  study  of  the  past,  as 
Quintilian ;  or  in  minute  and  pedantic  erudition,  as  Aulus  Gellius. 
The  literature  of  the  Silver  Age  is  throughout  conscious  of  itfl 

2  H 


482  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 

powerlessness  ;  and  this  consciousness  deadens  it  into  tame  acquit 
escence  or  galls  it  into  hysterical  effort,  according  to  the  time  and 
temperament  of  the  author.  Pliny  the  younger  and  Quintilian 
alone  show  the  happily-balanced  disposition  of  the  Golden  Age ; 
but  what  they  gain  in  classic  finish  they  lose  in  human  interest. 
The  decay  of  Greece  had  been  insignificant,  pretty  but  paltry ;  the 
decay  of  Rome  on  the  other  hand  is  unlovely  but  colossal.  Per- 
haps in  native  strength  none  of  her  earlier  authors  equal  Juvenal 
and  Tacitus ;  none  certainly  exceed  them.  But  they  are  the  last 
barriers  that  stem  the  tide.  After  them  the  flood  has  already 
rushed  in,  and  before  long  comes  the  collapse.  In  Suetonius  and 
Florus  we  already  see  the  pioneers  of  a  pigmy  race ;  in  Gellius, 
Pronto,  and  Apuleius,  they  are  present  in  all  their  uncouth  dwarf- 
ishness.  Meanwhile  the  clamours  of  the  world  for  guidance  grow 
louder  and  louder,  and  there  is  no  one  great  enough  or  bold 
enough  to  respond  to  them.  The  good  emperor  would  do  so  if  he 
could ;  but  in  his  perplexity  he  looks  this  way  and  that,  bringing 
into  one  focus  all  the  cults  and  ceremonies  of  the  known  world, 
in  the  vain  hope  fhat  by  indiscriminate  piety  he  may  avert  the 
calamities  under  which  his  empire  groans.  But  nothing  is  of  any 
avail.  The  barbarians  without,  the  pestilence  within,  decimate 
his  subjects,  the  hostile  gods  seem  to  mock  his  goodness,  and  the 
simple  people  who  look  up  to  him  as  their  tutelary  power  wonder 
hopelessly  why  he  cannot  save  them.  And  thus  on  all  sides  the 
incapacity  of  the  world  to  right  itself  is  made  clearer  and  clearer. 
The  gross  darkness  that  had  been  once  partly  put  to  flight  by  the 
light  of  Greek  genius  when  philosophy  rose  upon  the  world,  and 
once  again  had  been  retarded  by  the  heroic  examples  of  Roman 
conduct  and  Roman  wisdom,  now  closed  murkily  over  the  whole 
world.  It  was  indeed  time  that  a  new  order  of  thought  should 
arise,  which  should  recreate  the  dead  matter  and  bring  out  of  it  a 
new  and  more  enduring  principle  of  life,  which  should  give  the 
past  its  meaning  and  the  future  its  hope ;  and,  in  especial,  should 
reveal  to  literature  its  true  end,  the  enlightenment  and  elevation, 
not  of  one  class  nor  of  one  nation,  but  of  every  heart  and  every 
intellect  that  can  be  made  to  respond  to  its  influence  among  all  th* 
nations  of  the  earth* 


APPENDIX. 


A.  CHRONOLOGICAL    TABLE    OF    ROMAN    LITERATURE, 
FROM  LIVIUS  TO  THE  DEATH  OF  M.  AURELIUS.1 


B.C. 

240  Livius  "begins  to  exhibit. 

"239  Eiinius  born. 

235  Naevius  begins  to  exhibit. 

234  Catoborn. 

225  Fabius  Pictor  served  in  the  Gallic 

War. 
219  Pacuvius  born. 
218  Cincius  Alimentus  described  the 

passage    of    Hannibal     into 

Italy. 
217  Cato  begins  to  be  known. 
216  Fabius  Pictor  sent  as  ambassador 

to  Delphi. 
207  The  poem  on  the  victory  of  Sena 

entrusted  to  Livius. 
204  Cato  quaestor;  brings  Ennius  to 

Rome. 
201  *Naeviu8  dies  (?). 
191  Cato  military  tribune. 
190  Cincius  still  writes. 
189  Ennius  goea  with  Fulvius  into 

Aetolia. 
185  Terence  born.2 
1S4  Cato  censor.     Plautus  dies. 
179  Caecilius  flourished. 
173  Ennius  wrote  the  twelfth  book 

of  the  Annals. 


B.C. 

1 70  Accius  born. 

169  Ennius  dies.  Cato's  speech  prt 
lege  Voconia. 

168  Caecilius  dies. 

166  Terence's  Andria. 

165  Terence's  Hccyra. 

163  Terence's  Hautontimorumenos. 

161  Terence's  Eunuchus  and  Phor* 
mio. 

160  Terence's  Adelphoe. 

159  Terence  dies. 

154  Pacuvius  flourished. 

151  Albinus,  the  consul,  writes  his- 
tory (Gell.  xi.  8). 

150  Cato  finishes  the  Origines. 

149  Cato,  aged  85,  accuses  Galba, 
Dies  in  the  same  year.  C. 
Calpurnius  Piso  Frugi,  the 
historian. 

148  Lucilius  born. 

146  Cassius  Hemina  flourished.     (J 
Fannius,  the  historian,  serves 
at  Carthage. 

142  Antonius,  the  orator,  born. 

140  Crassus,  the  orator,  born.  Ac- 
cius, aged  30,  Pacuvius,  aged 
80,  exhibit  together. 


I  From  the  RSmitche  Zeittafeln  of  Dr  E.  W.  Fischer,  and  from  Clinton,  Fatti  Belienicianl 
Boniani.    Only  those  dates  which  are  tolerably  ceitain  are  given. 
*  Clinton  places  bis  birth  in  19o;  but  see  Tcuff.  §  07,  6. 


434 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


B.C. 

134  Sempronius   Assellio   served  at 
Numautia.     Lucilius  begins  to 
write. 
123  Caelius  Antipater  flourished. 
119  Crassus  accuses  Carbo. 
116  Varro  born. 
115  Hortensius  born. 
Ill  Crnssus  and  Scaevola  quaestors.1 
109  Atticus  born. 
107  Crassus  tribune. 
106  Cicero  born. 
103  The  Tereus  of  Accius.    Death  of 

Turpilius. 
102  Furius  Bibaculus  bom  at  Cre- 
mona. 
100  Aelius  Stilo. 
98  Antonius  defends  Aquillius. 
95  First  public  appearance  of  Hor- 
tensius.    Lucretius  born  (?). 
92  Crassus  censor.     Opilius  teaches 

rhetoric. 
91  Crassus  dies.     Pomponius  flour- 
ished. 
90  Scaurus  flourished. 
89  Cicero  serves  under  the  consul 

Pompeius. 
88  Cicero  hears  Philo  and  Molo  at 
Rome.      Rutilius  resident  at 
Mitylene.    Plotins  Gallus  first 
Latin  teacher  of  Rhetoric. 
87  Antonius    slain.       Sisenna    the 
historian.     Catullus  born  (?). 
86  Sal  lust  born. 

82  Varro  of  Ataxborn.   Calvusborn. 

81  Cicero  pro  Quinctio.      Valerius 

Cato  Grammaticus.    Otacilius, 

first  freedman  who  attempts 

history. 

80  Pro  Roscio. 

79  Cicero  at  Athens  ;  hears  Anti- 

ochus  and  Zeno. 
78  Cicero  hears  Molo  at  Rhodes. 
77  Cicero  returns  to  Rome. 
76  Asinius  Pollio  born  (?). 
75  Cicero  quaestor  in  Sicily. 
74  Cicero  again  in  Rome. 
70  Divinatio  and  Actio  I.  inVerrem. 

Virgil  born. 
59  Cicero  aedile. 

67  Varro  wins  a  naval  crown  under 
Pompey  in  the  Piratic  War 
(Plin.  N.  H.  xvi.  4). 


B.C. 

66  Cicero  praetor.  Pro  lege  Manilla. 
Pro  Cluentio.  M.  Antoniui 
Gnipho  flourished. 

65  Pro  Cornelio.     Horace  born. 

64  In  toga  Candida. 

63  Consular  orations  of  Cicero.  Pro 
Murena. 

62  Pro  P.  Sulla. 

61  Annaeus  Seneca  born. 

59  Livyborn(?).  AeliusTuberowith 
Cicero  in  Asia.  Pro  A.  Ther- 
mo.    Pro  L.  Flacco. 

58  Cicero  goes  into  exile. 

57  Cicero  recalled.  Calidius  a  good 
speaker. 

56  ProSextio.  In  Vatinium.  Da 
Provinciis  Consularibus. 

55  In  Calpumium  Pisonem.  De 
Oratore.  Virgil  assumes  the 
toga  virilis. 

54  Pro  Vatinio.  Pro  Scauro.  Da 
Rcpublica. 

52  Pro  Milone.    Lucretius  dies  (?).* 

51  Cicero  proconsul  in  Cilicia. 

50  Death  of  Hortensius.  Sallust 
expelled  from  the  senate. 

49  Cicero  at  Rome.  Varro  lieuten- 
ant of  Pompey  in  Spain. 

48  Lenaeus  satirizes  Sallust.  Cicero 
in  Italy. 

47  Cicero  at  Brundisium.  Hyginua 
brought  to  Roma  by  Caesar. 
Catullus  still  living  (C.  52) . 

46  The  Brutus  written.  Calvug 
dies.  Sallust  praetor.  Pro 
Marccllo.     Pro  Ligario. 

45  Cicero's  Orator.     Pro  Deiotaro. 

44  The  first  four  Philippics.  Death 
of  Caesar. 

43  The  later  Philippics.  Death  of 
Cicero.     Birth  of  Ovid. 

42  Horace  at  Philippi. 

40  Cornelius  Nepos  flourished.  Per- 
haps Hor.  Sat.  i.  2.     Epod.  xiii. 

39  AteiusPhilologusborn  at  Athens. 
Perhaps  Virg.  Eel.  vi.  viiL 
Hor.  Od.  ii.  7.     Epod  iv. 

38  Perhaps  Eel.  vii.    Hor.  Sat.  L  & 

37  Varro  (act.  80)  writes  de  Re  Rus. 
tica.  Perh.  Eel.  x.  Sat.  i. 
5  and  6.     Epod.  v. 

36  Cornelius Severus(?)  Hor.Sat.i.8 


»  O  there  place  tlrs  event  in  109  b.c.  *  Others  place  this  event  m  55  b.o. 


APPENDIX. 


48S 


no. 

uo  Urtvius  dies  Hor.  Sat.  i.  ^  4, 
9,  10. 

34  Sallust  dies.  Sat.  ii.  2.  Epod.  iii. 

33  Sit.  ii.  3.     Epod.  xi.  xiv. 

32  Attieus  dies.  Sat.  ii.  4,  5. 
Epod.  vii. 

81  Messala  consul.  Sat.  ii.  6. 
Epod.  i.  and  ix. 

80  Gal'.us  ma  e  praefect  of  Egypt. 
Cassius  Severus  dies.  Tibullus 
El.  i.  3.  The  Georgics  pub- 
lished. Hor.  Sat.  ii.  7,  8,  and 
perhaps  1.     Epod  ii. 

29  Livy  writing  his  first  book. 
Propertius  I.  6. 

28  Varro  dies. 

27  Od.  i.  35.  Vitruvius  writing 
his  work. 

26  Gall  us  dies  (aet.  40).  Second 
book  of  Propertius  pub- 
lished (?).* 

25  Livy's  first  book  completed  be- 
fore this  year.    Hor.  Od.  ii.  4. 

24  Quintil.  Varus  dies  (=-the  poet 
of  Cremona,  mentioned  in  the 
ninth  Eclogue  [?]). 

23  The  first  three  books  of  the  Odes 
published. 

22  Marcellus  dies.  Virgil  reads  the 
sixth  Aeneid  to  Augustus  and 
Livia.  Third  book  of  Pro- 
pertius (?) . 

21  Hor.  writes  Ep.  i.  20  (aet  44). 

20  First  book  of  Epistles. 

19  Virgil  dies  at  Brundisium.  His 
epitaph : 

M  Mantnn  me  permit:  Calalri  rapuere: 
tenet  nunc 
Part  lien  ope:  cecini  pascu  a  rura  duces." 

Tibullus  dies.    Domitius  Mar- 

sus  writes. 
18  Livy  working  at  his  fifty-ninth 

book. 
17  Poroius    Latro.      The    Carmen 

Sri  mil  arc.     Vnrius  and  Tucca 

edit  the  Aeneid. 
1?  A'liulius  Macer  of  Verona  dies. 

Od.  iv.  9,  to  Loll  ins. 
15  Deith  of  Propertius.     Victories 

of  Drusus.     Od.  iv.  4. 
14  The  fourth  book  of  the  0.1es(?). 
1$  Cestius  of  Smyrna  teaches  rh«  - 

toric. 

*  Or,  perhaps,  in  24  b  a. 


B.O. 

1 .   Death  of  Agrippa. 
Ii  The   Epistle  to  Augustus  (Ep, 
ii.  1). 

10  Passienus  and    Hyginus    Poly- 

iistor. 
9  Ovid's  Amorcs. 
8  Death  of  Horace. 
7  Birth  of  Seneca (?). 

6  Albucius   Silo    a    professor    oC 

rhetoric. 
5  Tiro,    Cicero's    freedman,    dies 

(aet.  100). 
4  Porcius  Latro  commits  suicide. 

Ovid  now  in  his  fortieth  year. 
2  Ovid's  Art  of  Love. 

A.D. 

1  The  Remedium  Ainoris. 

2  Velleius  Paterculus  serves  under 

C.  Caesar. 
4  Pollio  dies.    Velleius  serves  with 
Tiberius  in  Germany. 

7  Velleius  quaestor. 

8  VerriusFlaccus,  the  grammarian, 

flourished.  Ovid  banished  to 
Tomi,  in  December  (Tr.  1, 
10,  3). 

"  Authanc  me  gelidi  tremerem  cum  mens* 
Decevibris 
Scribentem  mediis  Adria  vidita  quit." 

9  The  Ibis  of  Ovid. 

11  Death  of  Messala.* 

12  The  Tristia  finished. 

13  The  Epistles  from  Pontus  were 

being  written. 

14  Death   of  Augustus.      Velleius 

praetor. 

18  Death  of  Ovid  at  60  ;  of  Livy 

at  76.     Valerius  Maximus  ac 
companied   Six.  Pompeius  to 
Asia. 

19  The  elder  Seneca  writes  his  "re- 

collections." 

24  Cassius  Severus  in  exile.     Pliny 

the  elder  born  (?). 

25  Death    of    Cremutius    Cordus. 

Votienus  banished. 

26  Haterius  flourished. 

30  Asinius  Gallus  imprisoned. 

31  Valerius  Maximus  wrote  ix.  11, 

4  (extern. ),  soor  after  the  death 
of  Sejanus. 
33  Death    of   Cassius    Severus   the 

1  Jerome  place*  it  in  13  a. d. 


486 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


AD. 

orator.    His  works  proscribed. 
Death  of  Asinius  Gallus. 
34  Persius  born. 

40  Lucas  brought  to  Rome. 

41  Seneca's  de  Ira.    Exile  of  Seneca 

at  the  close  of  this  year. 

42  Asconius  Pedianus  flourished. 

43  Martial  bom. 

45  Domitius  Afer  flourished. 

48  Remmius  Palaemon  in  vogue  as 

a  grammarian. 

49  Seneca  recalled  from  exile,  and 

made  Nero's  tutor. 

56  Seneca's  de  dementia. 

57  Probus    Berytius    a    celebrated 

grammarian. 
59  Death  of  Domitius  Afer. 

61  Pliny  the  younger  born  (?). 

62  Death   of   Persius.      Seneca  in 

danger,  Burrus  being  dead. 
C3  The    Naturales    Quaestiones  of 
Seneca. 

65  Death  of  Seneca  {Ann.  xv.  60). 

66  Martial  comes  to  Rome. 

63  Quintilian  accompanies  Galba  to 

Rome.    Silius  Italicus  consul. 

69  Silius  in  Rome. 

75  The  dialogue  de  Oratoribus, 
written  (C.  17). 

77  Pliny's  Natural  History.  Gabi- 
nianus,  the  rhetorician,  flour- 
ished. 

79  Death  of  the  elder  Pliny. 

80  PJiny  the  younger beginsto  plead . 


A.D. 

88  Suetonius  now    a  young  matt 

Tacitus  praetor. 

89  Quintilian  teaches  at  Rome.    Hia 

professional  careerextendg  aver 
20  years. 
90  Philosophers  banisbed.      PMcy 
praetor.     Sulpiciae  Satira  (if 
genuine). 

95  Statii  Silv.  iv.  1.     The  Thebaid 

was  nearly  finished. 

96  Pliny's  accusation  of  Publiciua 

Certus. 

97  Frontinus  curator  aquarum.    Ta- 

citus consul  suffeetus. 

98  Trajan. 

99  The    tenth    book    of    Martial. 

Silius  at  Naples. 
100  Pliny  and  Tacitus  accuse  Marina 
Priscus.     Pliny's  panegyric. 

103  Pliny  at  his  province  of  Bithynia. 

104  His  letter  about  the  Christiana. 

Martial  goes  to  Bilbilis. 
109  Pliny  (aet.  48)  at  the  zenith  of 

his  fame. 
118  Juvenal  wrote  Satire  xiii.  this 

year. 
132  Salvias     Julianus's     Perpetual 

Edict 
1 38  Death  of  Hadrian. 
143  Fronto  consul  suffectua. 
164  Height  of  Fronto's  fame. 
166  Fronto  proposes  to  describe  tht 

Parthian  war. 
180  Death  of  Marcus  Aureliua. 


A  large  number  of  other  dates  will  be  found  in  the  body  of  the  work, 

especially  for  the  later  period ;  but  as  they  are  not  absolutely 

oertaiB,  they  have  not  boeu  inserted  hero. 


APPENDIX. 


437 


LIST  OF  EDITIONS  RECOMMENDED.1 


FOR  THE  EARLY  PERIOD. 


Wobdsworth.  Fragments  and  Spe- 
cimens of  early  Latin.     1874. 

Livius  Andronicus.  H.  Diiutzer. 
Berlin.     1835. 

Naevius.  Ribbeck.  Trag.  Lat.  Rel- 
liquiae, p.  5. 

Plautus.  Ritschl  or  Fleckeisen. 
Unfinished. 

Ennius.  Vahlen.  Ennianae  Poeseos 
Relliquiae. 

Pacuvius.     Ribbeck,  as  above. 

Terence.  Wagner.  Cambridge. 
1869.  Text  by  Umpfenbach. 
1870. 

Turpiliu8.  Fragments  in  Bothe 
{Poet.  Seen.  V.  2,  p.  58-76), 
and  Ribbeck's  Comic.  Lat. 
Relliq. 

The  Early  Historians.  Peter  {Ve- 
terum  Historicorum  Romanorum 
Relliquiae.     Lips.  1870). 

Cato.  De  Re  Rustica.  Scriptores  rei 
rusticae  veteres  Latini,  curante 


I.   M.  Gesnero.      Lips.     1735 

Vol.  1. 
Cato  Fragmenta  praeter  libros  de  Re 

Rustica.     Jordan.     Lips.     1860. 
The  Old  Orators  to  Hortensius 

H.    Meyer.     Oratorum  Roman- 

orum  Fragmenta.  Zurich.   1842. 
Accius.     Tragedies.     Fragments   in 

Ribbeck,  as  above. 

Praeter    Scenica.        Lucian 

Miiller.    Lucilii  Saturaran 
Relliquiae.      Lips.      1872. 
Lachmann. 
Atta.     Fragments.     Bothe.      Seen. 

Lat.  v.  2,  p.  97-102.  Ribbeck. 
Afranius.  Bothe,  p.  156-9.  Rib- 
beck. 
Lucilius.  Lucian  Miiller,  as  above. 
Suevius.  Lucian  Miiller,  as  above. 
Atellanae.    Fr.  in  Ribbeck.     Com. 

Lat.  Rel.  p.  192. 
Atjctor  ad  Herennium.    Kayser, 

Lips,    1854. 


FOR  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 


Varro.    Saturae  Menippeae.    Riese. 
Lips.     1865. 

■  Antiquities.     Fragments   in 

R.  Merkel.   Introduction  to 
Ovid's  Fasti. 
»■  DeVitaPopuliRomani.  Frag- 

ments in  Kettner.     Halle. 
1863. 

■  "        De   Lingua  Latina.     C.    0. 

Miiller.     Lips.     1833. 

■  De  Re  Rustica.     Gesner,  as 

above.     See  Cato. 
Cicero.    Speeches.    G.  Long.    Lon- 
don. 1862.  In  four  volumes. 

■  Verrine  Orations.     Long,  as 

above.      Zumpti,       Berlin. 
1831. 


Cicero.  Pro  Cluentio.  Classen. 
Bonn.  1831.  Ramsay.  Claren* 
don  Press. 

— — —  In  Catilinam.    Halm.    Lips. 

— —  Pro  Plancio.      E.  Wunder. 
1830. 
•       ProMurena.  Zumpt.  Berlin. 
1859. 

— — —  ProRoscio.  Biichner.  Lips. 
1835. 

— —  Pro  Sestio.  Halm.  Lips. 
1845.  And  Teubner  edi- 
tion. 

— — —  Pro  Milone.  Orelli.  Lips. 
1826.  School  edition  by 
Purton.    Cambridge.    1873. 

Second  Philippic.  With  notes 


'  The  most  convenient  and  acccesslble  are  here  recommended,  not  the  most  complete  or 
exhaustive.  For  these  the  reader  is  referred  to  Teuffel's  work,  from  which  several  of  thus* 
kes  mentioned  are  taken. 


488 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LIT  ERA  TURK 


from    Halm,    by  J.    E.   B. 

Mayor. 
Cicero.  Dv±  Inventione.  Lindeniann. 

Lips.     1829. 
*  De  Oratore.    Ellendt.    Kon- 

igsberg.     1840. 

. Brutus.     Ellendt.     1844. 

— — —  Philosophical  Writings.     Or- 

elli.     Vol.  IV. 

■  ■  De  Finibus.     Madvig.     Co- 

penhagen. Second  Edi- 
tion. 1871.  F.  G.  Otto. 
1839. 

—  Academica   (with  De  Fin.). 

Orelli.     Zurich.     1827. 

:r  ■  -■  Tusculanae  Disputationes 
(with  Paradoxa).  Orelli. 
1829.      • 

■  De  Natura  Deorum.     Scho- 


1850. 


Long. 


Lon- 
Ber- 


Ber- 


mann.     Berlin. 

•—  —  De  Senectute. 
don.     1861. 

*— — —  De  Amicitia.    Nauck. 
'  lin.     1867. 

•— DeOfficiis.    O.Heine. 

lin.     1857. 

— D^      Republica.     Heinrich. 

Bonn.     1828. 

De  Legibus.    Vahlen.    1871. 

--  ■         D<'  Divinatione.  Giese.  Lips. 
1829. 

'  Select  Letters.    Watson.    Ox- 

ford. 

Entire  Works.    Orelli.    Ziir. 

1845.    Nobbe.    Lips.  1^28. 
Labehius.    Ribbeck.  Com.  Lat.  Rel- 

liquiae,  p.  237. 
FuriusBibaculus.  Weichert.  Poet 

Lat.  liell.y  p.  325. 
Syri    Sententiae.     Woelfflin.     1869. 
Caesar.     Speeches.     Meyer.    Or  at. 

Rom.  Fragmenta. 
■  Letters.  Nipperdey.  Caesar, 

p.  766-599, 

-  Commentaries.      Nipperdey. 

Lips.     1847-1856. 

Gallic  War.    Long.   London. 

1859. 
Nepos.     Nipperdey.     Lips.     1849. 
School  edition  by  0.  Browning. 
Lucretius.      Munro.      Cambridge. 

1866. 
Ballust.     All    his    extant    works. 
Gerlach.    Basle.     1823-31. 


Varro   Atacinus.      Fragments    m 

Riese,  Sat.  Menippeae. 
Cinna.     Weichert.     Poctarum  Lat. 

Vitae,  p.  187. 
Catullus.     R.Ellis.   Oxford.  1867 

-  Commentary.    R.  Ellis.    Ox 

ford.     1870. 

Pollto.  Fragments  in  Meyer.  Orat 
Rom.  Fragmenta. 

Varius.  Ribbeck 's  Tragic.  Lat.  Rel 
liquiae. 

Virgil.  Ribbeck.  4  vols.  With  an 
Appendix Virgiliana.  Conington. 
3  vols.  Oxford.  A  good  school 
edition  by  Bryce.  (Glasgow 
University  Classics.)     London. 

Horace.  Orelli.  Third  edition, 
1850.  2  vols.  School  editions, 
by  Maclean e  and  Currie,  both 
with  good  English  Notes.  Odes 
andEpodes,by  Wickham.    1874, 

Tibullus  and  Properties.  Lach- 
mann.     Berlin.     1829. 

Tibullus.     Dissen. 

Propertius.     Paley. 

Ovid.  Entire  "Works.  R.  Merkel. 
Lips.     1851.     3  vols. 

Fasti.     Paley. 

Heroides.      Terpstra.     1829. 

Arthur  Palmer.    Longman. 
1874. 

Tristia   and   Ibis.      MerkeL 

1837. 

Metamorphoses.      Bach. 

1831-6.     2  vols. 

Gratius.  Haupt.  Lips.  1838. 
Including  the  Halieuticon,  &c. 

Manilius.  Scaliger.  1579.  Bent- 
lev.  1739.  Jacob.  Berlin. 
1846. 

Livy.  Drakenborg.  7  vols.  Teubnei 
text.  Weissenbom,  with  an  ex- 
cellent German  Commentary. 

Book    I.      Professor  Seeley. 

Cambridge. 

Justin  (Trogus).   Jeep.  Lips.    1859. 

Verrius  Flaccus.  C.  0.  Muller. 
Lips.     1839. 

ViTRUVirs.  Schneider.  Lips.  1807. 
3  vols.     Rose.     1867. 

Seneca  (the  elder).  Keissling 
(Teubner  series).  Oratorum  et 
Rhetorum  sententiae  divisionef 
colores.     Bursian.     3857. 


APPENDIX. 


489 


THE  PERIOD  OF  THS  DECLINE. 


Lips.  Teubner. 
Ziir.      1831. 
1876. 


Germanicus  (translation  of  Aratus). 

Breysig.     Berlin.     1867. 
Velleius.  Kritz.  Lips.  1840.  Halm. 
Valerius  Maximus.    Kempf.    Berl. 

1854. 
Celsus.   Daremberg. 
Phaedrus.      Orelli. 

Lucian  Miiller. 
Seneca.      Tragedies.      Peiper    and 

Riehter.     Lips,     1867. 
-  Entire  Works.      Fr.    Haase. 

3 vols.  1862-71.  (Teubner.) 
■  ■  NaturalesQuaestiones.    Koe- 

ler.     1818. 
Curtius.     Zumpt.     Brunsw.     1849. 
Columella.     In  Gesner,  Scriptores 

Rci  Husticae. 
Mela.  Par  they. 
Valerius  Probus. 


Berl.     1867. 

In  Keil  Gramma- 


tici  Latini.     Vol.  I.     1857. 
Persius.    Jahn.    Lips.    1843.    Con- 

ington.     Oxford.     1869. 
Lucan.    C.  F.  Weber.    Lips.    1821. 

C.  H.  Weisse.     Lips.     1835. 
Petronius.    Biicheler.    Berl.    1871. 

Second  edition. 
Calpurnius.     Glaeser.     Gottingen. 

1842, 
Etna.    Munro.    Cambridge.     1867. 
Pliny.     Sillig.     Lips.     8  vols. 

Chrestomathia     Pliniana,    a 

useful  text-book  by  Urlichs. 
Berlin.     1857. 
Valerius  Flaccus.  Lemaire.  Paris. 

1824.     Schenkl.     1871. 
Silius.    Ruperti.    Gottingen.    1795. 
Statius.    Silvae.    Mark  land.    Lips. 
1827. 

Entire  works.    Queck.    1854. 

Thebaid  and  Aehilleid.    Vol. 

I.    0.  Miiller.    Lips.    1871. 
Martial.     Schneidevin.     1842. 

-  Select     Epigrams.        Paley. 

London.     1875. 
yuiNTFLiAN.     Bonnell.     (Teubnei  " 
1801. 


Quintilian.     Halm.    2  vols     1869. 
Lexicon     to,     by    Bonnell 

1834. 
Frontinus.     Text  by  Dederich,   hi 

Teubner  edition.     1855. 
Juvenal.    Heinrich.     Bpnn.    1839. 

Mayor.    London.   1872.   Vol.  I. 

(for  schools).    Otto  Iahn.    1868. 
Tacitus.  Works.  Orelli.   1846.  Rit- 

ter.     1864. 

Dialogue.       Ritter.       Bonn. 

1836. 

Agricola.       Kritz.       Berlin. 

1865. 

Germania.      Kritz.      Berlin. 

1869.     Latham.      London. 
18.51. 
Annales.      Nipperdey.     Ber- 
lin.    1864. 
Pliny  the  younger.      Keil.       Lips. 

1870. 

Letters.     G.    E.    Gierig.      2 

vols.     1800-2. 
— — —  Letters  and  Panegyric.  Gierig. 

1806. 
Suetonius.    Roth.    Teubner.    1858. 

Praeter  Caesarum  Libros.   D. 

Reirl'erscheid.    Lips.    186i>. 
Florus.     Jahn.     Lips.     1856. 
Fronto.      Niebuhr.      Berl.      1816. 

Supplement.       1832.        S.    A. 

Naber.     (Teubner.)     1867. 
Pervigilium    Veneris.     Bughelei. 

1859.  Riese's  Antliologia  Latina 

i.  p.  144. 
Gellius.     Hertz.     Lips.     1853. 
Gaius.     Lachmann.    Berlin.    1842. 

Institutes.        Poste.        Oxf. 

1871. 
Apuleius.  Hildebrand.  Lips.  1842. 

2  vols. 
Itinerarium  Antonini  Auousti  ei 

Hierosolymitanum.      G.   Par- 

thev  and   M.    Piuder.      Berlin. 

1848. 


490 


HIS10RY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


QUESTIONS  OR  SUBJECTS  FOR  ESSAYS  SUGGESTED  BY 
THE  HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE.1 


6. 


1.  Trace  the  influence  of  conquest 

on  Roman  literature. 

2.  Examine    Niebuhr's  hypothesis 

of  an  old  Roman  epos. 

8.  Compare  the  Roman  conception 
of  law  as  manifested  in  an 
argument  of  Cicero,  with  that 
of  the  Athenians,  as  displayed 
in  any  of  the  great  Attic 
orators. 

4.  Trace  the  causes  of  the  special 
devotion  to  poetry  during  the 
Augustan  Age. 
The  love  of  nature  in   Roman 
poetry. 

6.  What   were   the    Collegia  poet- 

arum!  In  what  connection  are 
they  mentioned  ? 

7.  What    methods    of    appraising 

literacy  work  existed  at  Rome  ? 
Was  there  anything  analogous 
to  our  review  system  ?  If  so, 
how  did  it  differ  at  different 
epochs  ? 

8.  Sketch  the  development  of  the 

Mime,  and  account  for  its 
decline. 

9.  Criticise  the  merits  and  defects 

of  the  various  forms  which 
historical  composition  as- 
Bumed  at  Rome  (Hegel,  Phi- 
los.  of  History,  Preface). 

10.  "  Inveni     lateritiam :      reliqui 

marmoream" (Augustus).  The 
material  splendour  of  imperial 
Rome  as  affecting  literary 
genius.  (Contrast  the  Speech 
of  Pericles.    Thuc.  ii.  37,  sqq.) 

11.  Varro     dicit    Musas    Plautino 

sermone  locuturas  fuisse,  si 
Latine  loqui  vellcnt  (Quin- 
til.).  Can  this  encomium  be 
justified  ?     If  so,  show  how. 

12.  M  Cetera    quae  vacuas  tenuissent 

carmine  mentcs."  Is  the  true 
end  of  poetry  to  occupy  a 
vacant  hour  ?  Illustrate  by 
the  chief  Roman  poets. 


13. 


U. 


15. 


16. 


17. 


18. 


The  vitality  of  Greek  mytho- 
logy in  Latin  and  in  modem 
poetry. 

State  succinctly  the  debt  of 
Roman  thought,  in  all  its 
branches,  to  Greece. 

What  is  the  permanent  contri- 
bution to  human  progress 
given  by  Latin  literature  ? 

Criticise  Mommsen's  remark, 
that  the  drama  is,  a  ter  all, 
the  form  of  literature  tor 
which  the  Romans  were  best 
adapted. 

Form  some  estimate  of  the  histo- 
rical value  of  the  old  an- 
nalists. 

What  sources  of  information 
were  at  Livv's  command  in 
writing  his  history  ?  Did  he 
rightly  appreciate  their  rela- 
tive value  ? 

What  influence  did  the  old  Ro- 
man system  have  in  repress- 
ing poetical  ideas  ? 

In  what  sense  is  it  true  that  the 
intellectual  progress  of  2 
nation  is  measured  by  it* 
prose  writers  ? 

Philosophy  and  poetry  set  be- 
fore themselves  the  same  pro- 
blem. Illustrate  from  Roman 
literature. 

Account  for  the  notable  defici- 
ency in  lyric  inspiration 
among  Roman  poets. 

Compare  the  influence  on  thought 
and  action  of  the  elder  and 
younger  Cato. 

Examine  the  alleged  incapacity 
of  the  Romans  for  speculative 
thought. 
25.  Compare  or  contiast  the  Italic, 
the  Etruscan,  the  Greek,  and 
the  Veilic  religions,  as  bearing 
on  thought  and  literature. 

Compare  the  circumstances  of 
the   diffusion   of   Greek  and 


19. 


20. 


21. 


22. 


23. 


24. 


26. 


*  Some  of  these  questions  are  taken  from  the  University  Examinations,  gome  also  from 
Mr  Gantillon's  Classical  Examination  Papers. 


APPENDIX. 


491 


Latin  beyond  the  limits  within 
which  they  were  originally 
spoken. 

87.  Analyse  the  various  influences 

under  which  the  poetical 
vocabulary  of  Latin  was 
formed. 

28.  Give  the  rules  of  the  Latin  ac- 
cent, and  show  how  it  has 
affected  Latin  Prosody.  Is 
there  any  reason  for  thinking 
that  it  was  once  subjected  to 
different  rules  ? 

25.  "  Latin  literature  lacks  origin- 
ality."  How  far  is  this  criti- 
cism sound  ? 

80.  Examine  the  influence  of    the 

Alexandrine  poets  upon  the 
literature  of  the  later  Repub- 
lic, and  of  the  Augustan  Age. 

81.  What  is  the  value  of  Horace  as  a 

literary  critic  ? 
32.  Give  a  brief  sketch  of  the  various 
Roman   writers    on    agricul- 
ture. 

88.  It  has  been  remarked,  that  while 

every  great  Roman  author 
expresses  a  hope  of  literary 
immortality,  few,  if  any,  of 
the  great  Greek  authors  men- 
tion it.  How  far  is  this 
difference  suggestive  of  their 
respective  national  characters, 
and  of  radically  distinct  con- 
ceptions of  art  ? 

84.  "What  instances  do  we  find  in 

Latin  literature  of  the  novel 
or  romance  ?  When  and  where 
did  this  style  of  composition 
first  become  common  ? 

85.  Trace  accurately  the  rhythmical 

progress  of  the  Latin  hexa- 
meter, and  indicate  the  prin- 
cipal differences  between  the 
rhythm  of  Lucretius,  Virgil, 
and  Horace's  epistles. 

86.  Distinguish  between  the  develop- 

ment and  the  corruption  of  a 
language.  Illustrate  from  Latin 
literature. 

87.  "  Virgilius  amantissimus  vetusta- 

tis."  Examire  in  all  its  bear- 
ings the  antiquarian  enthu- 
siasm of  Virgil. 


38.  **  Verum    orthograpMa    quoqvA 

eonsuetudini  servit,  idcoqiiA 
scepe  mutata  est"  (Qmntil.). 
What  principles  of  spelling  (if 
any),  appear  to  be  adopted  by 
the  best  modern  editors? 

39.  Show  that  the  letter  v,  in  Latin, 

had  sometimes  the  sound  of 
w,  sometimes  that  of  b\  that 
the  sounds  o  u,  e  i,  i  u, 
e  q,  were  frequently  inter- 
changed respectively. 

40.  Examine  the  traces  of  a  satiric 

tendency  in  Roman  litera- 
ture, independent  of  professed 
satire. 

41.  How  far  did  the  Augustan  poets 

consciously  modify  the  Greek 
metres  they  adopted  ? 

42.  Is  it  a  sound  criticism  to  call 

the  Romans  a  nation  of  gram- 
marians ?  Give  a  short  account 
of  the  labours  of  any  two  of 
the  great  Roman  gramma- 
rians, and  estimate  their 
value. 

43.  Cicero    (De  Leg.  i.  2,   5)  says: 

"  Abest  historia  a  Uteris  nos- 
tris."  Quiutilian  (x.  i.  101) 
says  :  **  Historia  non  cesserit 
Graecis."  Criticise  these 
statements. 

44.  "  0  dimidiate  Menander.*''     By 

whom  said  ?  Of  whom  said  ? 
Criticise. 

45.  Examine  and  classify  the  various 

uses  of  the  participles  in 
Virgil. 

46.  What  are  the  chief  peculiarities 

of  the  style  of  Tacitus  ? 

47.  "Roman   historv  ended    where 

it  had  begun,  in  biography." 
(Merivale).  Account  for  the 
predominance  of  biography  in 
Latin  literature. 

48.  The  Greek  schools  of  rhetoric  in 

the  Roman  period.  Examine 
their  influence  on  the  litera- 
ture of  Rome,  and  on  the  in- 
tellectual progress  of  the 
Roman  world. 

49.  In  what  sense  can  Ennius  rightly 

be  called  the  father  of  Latii 
literature  t 


492 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


60.  Can  the  same  rules  of  quantity 

be  applied  to  the  Latin 
comedians  as  to  the  classical 
poets  ? 

61.  Mention  any  differences'in  syntax 

between  Plautus  and  the 
Augustan  writers. 

62.  Examine    the    chief    defects  of 

ancient  criticism. 

63.  The    value    of   Cicero's    letters 

from  a  historical  and  from  a 
literary  point  of  view. 

64.  What  evidence  with  regard  to 

Latin  pronunciation  can  be 
gathered  from  the  writings  of 
Plautus  and  Terence  ? 

65.  Examine  the  nature  of  the  chief 

problems  involved  in  the 
settlement  of  the  text  of 
Lucretius. 

66.  Compare  the  Homeric  characters 

as  they  appear  in  Virgil  with 
their  originals  in  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey,  and  with  the  same 
as  treated  by  the  Greek  trage- 
dians. 

67.  How  far  is  it  true  that  Latin  is 

deficient  in  abstract  terms! 
What  new  coinages  were 
made  by  Cicero  ? 

58.  Contrast  Latin  with  Greek  (illus- 
trating by  any  analogies  that 
may  occur  to  you  in  modern 
languages)  as  regards  facility 
of  composition.  Did  Latin 
vary  in  this  respect  at  differ- 
ent periods  ? 

69.  What  are  the  main  differences  in 
Latin  between  the  language 
and  constructions  of  poetry 
and  those  of  prose  ? 

•0.  The  use  of  tmesis,  asyndeton, 
anacoluthon,  aposiopesis,  hy- 
perbaton,  hyperbole,  litotes,  in 
Latin  oratory  and  poetry. 

•L  What  traces  are  there  of  syste- 
matic division  according  to  a 
number  of  lines  in  the  poems 
of  Catullus  or  any  other  Latin 
poet  with  whom  you  are 
familiar?  (See  Ellis's  Ca- 
tullus), 

62.  Trace  the  history  of  the  AteU 
lanae,  and  account  for  their 


being  superseded  by  the 
Mime, 

63.  Examine  the    influence  of    the 

other  Italian  nationalities  on 
Roman  literature. 

64.  WThich  of  the   great  periods   of 

Greek  literature  had  the  most 
direct  or  lasting  influence  upon 
that  of  Rome? 

65.  What  has  been  the  influence  of 

Cicero  on  modern  literature 
(1)  as  a  philosophical  and 
moral  teacher ;  (2)  as  a 
stylist  ? 

66.  Give  some  account  of  the  Cicero- 

niauists. 

67.  What  influence  did  the  study  of 

Virgil  exercise  (1)  on  later 
Latin  literature  ;  (2)  on  the 
Middle  Ages  ;  (3)  on  the 
poetry  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury ? 

68.  Who  have  been  the  most   suc- 

cessful modern  writers  of  Latin 
elegiac  verse  ? 

69.  Distinguish  accurately  between 

oratory  and  rhetoric.  Discuss 
their  relative  predominance  in 
Roman  literature,  and  com- 
pare the  latter  in  this  respect 
with  the  literatures  of  Eng- 
land and  France. 

70.  Give  a  succinct  analysis  of  any 

speech  of  Cicero  with  which 
yon  are  familiar,  and  show  the 
principles  involved  in  its  con- 
struction. 

71.  Discuss    the    position    and    in- 

fluence of  the  Epicurean  and 
Stoic  philosophies  i»  the  last 
age  of  the  Republic 

72.  State   what   plan  and  principle 

Livy  lays  down  for  himself  in 
his  History.  Discuss  and 
illustrate  his  merits  as  a 
historian,  showing  how  far  he 
performs  what  he  promises. 

73.  Give  the  political  theory  of  Cicero 

as  stated  in  his  Be  Republica 
and  De  Lcgibus,  and  contrast 
it  with  either  that  of  Plito, 
Aristotle,  Machiavel,  or  Sii 
Thomas  More. 

74.  Analyse  the  main  argument  of 


APPENDIX. 


493 


the  De  datura  Deorum  Has 
this  treatise  a  penranent 
philosophical  value  ? 

75.  How  far  did  the  greatest  writers 

of  the  Empire  understand  the 
conditions  under  which  they 
lived,  and  the  various  forces 
that  acted  around  them  ? 

76.  Examine  the  importance  of  the 

tragedies  ascribed  to  Seneca  in 
the  history  of  European  liter- 
ature. To  whom  else  have 
they  been  ascribed  ? 

77.  How  did  the    study  of    Greek 

literature  at  Rome  affect  the 
vocabulary  and  syntax  of  the 
Latin  language  ? 

78.  The  influence  of  patronage  on 

literature.  Consider  chiefly 
with  reference  to  Rome,  but 
illustrate  from  other  litera- 
tures. 

79.  Are  there  indications  that  Ho- 

race set  before  him,  as  a  sati- 
rist, the  object  of  superseding 
Lucilius  ? 

80.  Compare  the  relation  of  Persius 

to  Horace  with  that  of  Lucan 
to  Virgil. 

81.  Account  for  the  imperfect  suc- 

cess of  Varro  as  an  ety- 
mologist, and  illustrate  by 
examples. 

82.  What     is    known    of    Nigidius 

Fisrulus,  the  Sextii,  Valerius 
Soranus,  and  Apuleius  as 
teachers  of  philosophic  doc- 
trine ? 

83.  Sketch  the  literary  career  of  the 

poet  Accius, 

84.  What  were  th6  main  character- 

istics of  the  old  Roman  ora- 
tory? What  classical  autho- 
rities exist  for  its  history? 

85.  Prove  the  assertion  that  juris- 

prudence was  the  only  form 
of  intellectual  activity  that 
Rome  from  first  to  last  worked 
out  in  a  thoroughly  national 
manner. 
66.  Compare  the  portrait  of  Tiberius 
as  given  by  Tacitus,  with  any 
of  the  other  great  creations  of 
the  historic  imagination.  How 


far  is  it  to  be  considered 
truthful ? 

87.  Ar  what  time  did  abridgments 

begin  to  be  used  at  Rome? 
A  count  for  their  popularity 
th  -oughout  the  Middle  Ages, 
an  1  mention  some  of  the  most 
important  that  have  come 
do  vn  to  us. 

88.  Wh  it  remains  of  the  writers  on 

ap  died  science  do  we  possess  ? 

89.  Is   it   probable   that  the  great 

developments  of  mathematical 
and  physical  science  at  Alex- 
andria had  any  general  effect 
u  >on  the  popular  culture  of 
tie  Roman  world? 

90.  Waat  are  our  chief  authorities 

fjc  the  old  Roman  religion  ? 

91.  Account  for   the   influence   of 

Fronto,  and  give  a  list  of  hir 
writings. 

92.  Which  are  the  most  important 

of  the  public,  and  which  #£ 
the  private,  orations  of  Cicero  ? 
Give  a  short  account  of  one  of 
each  class,  with  date,  place, 
and  circumstances  of  delivery. 
How  were  such  speeches  pre- 
served ?  Had  the  Romans  any 
system  of  reporting? 

93.  A  life  of  Silius  Italicus  with  a 

short  account  of  his  poem. 

94.  Who,  in  your  opinion,  are  the 

nearest  modern  representa- 
tives of  Horace,  Lucilius,  and 
Juvenal  ? 

95.  In    what    particulars    do    the 

alcaic  and  sapphic  metres  of 
Horace  differ  from  their  Greek 
models?  What  are  the  dif- 
ferent forms  of  the  asclepiad 
metre  in  Horace  ?  Have  any 
of  the  Horatian  metres  been 
used  by  other  writers  ? 

96.  Enumerate  the  chief  imitations 

of  En n ius  in  Virgil,  noting  the 
alterations  where  such  occur. 

97.  Point  out  the  main  features  of 

the  Roman  worship.  (See 
index  to  Meri  vale's  Home,  s.  T. 
Religion. ) 

98.  Write  a  life  of  Maecenas,  show- 

ing his  position  as  chief  minis* 


494 


HISTORY  OF  ROMAN  LITERATURE. 


ter  of  the  Empire,  and  as  the 
centre  of  literary  society  of 
Rome  during  the  Augustan 
Age. 
W.  Donaldson,  in  his  Varronianus, 
argues  that  the  French  rather 
than  the  Italian  represents  the 
more  perfect  form  of  the 
original  Latin.  Test  this 
view  by  a  comparison  of 
words  in  both  languages  with 
the  Latin  forms. 

100.  Give  a  summary  of  the  argu- 

ment in  .any  one  of  the  fol- 
lowing works : — Cicero's  De 
FinibuSy  Tusculan  disputa- 
tions, De  OJficiis,  or  the  first 
and  second  books  of  Lucre- 
tius. 

101.  State  the  position  and  influence 

on  thought  and  letters  of  the 
two  Scipios,  Laelius,  and 
Cato  the  censor. 

102.  Give  Caesar's  account  of   the 

religion  of  the  Gauls,  and 
compare  it  with  the  locus 
classicus  on  the  subject  in 
Lucan  (I.  447).  What  were  the 
national  deities  of  the  Britons, 
and  to  which  of  the  Roman 
deities  were  they  severally 
made  to  correspond  ? 

103.  Examine  the  chief  differences 

between  the  Ciceronian  and 
Tost- Augustan  syntax. 

104.  Trace  the  influence  of  the  study 

of  comparative  philology  on 
Latin  scholarship. 

105.  "  Italy   remained   without  na- 

tional poetry  or  art "  (Momm- 
sen).  In  what  sense  can  this 
assertion  be  justified? 

106.  "What  passages  can  you  collect 

from  Virgil,  Horace,  Tacitus, 
and  Juvenal,   showing    their 


beliefs  on  the  great  question! 
of  philosophy  and  religion? 

107.  Examine     the     bearings    of   a 

highly-developed  inflectional 
system  like  those  of  the  Greek 
and  Latin  languages,  upon 
the  theory  of  prose  composi- 
tion. 

108.  To  what  periods  of  the  life  of 

Horace  would  you  refer  the 
composition  of  the  Book  of 
Epodes  and  the  Books  of 
Satires  and  Epistles?  Con- 
firm your  view  by  quotations. 

109.  "What  is    known    of  Suevius, 

Pompeius  Trogus,  Salvius 
Julian  us,  Gaius,  and  Celsus  ? 

110.  Who  were  the  chief  writers  of 

encyclopaedias  at  Rome  ? 

111.  How   do  you  account  for  the 

short  duration  of  the  legiti- 
mate drama  at  Rome? 

112.  Who  were  the  greatest  Latin 

scholars  of  the  fifteenth  and 
sixteenth  centuries?  In  what 
department  of  scholarship  did 
they  mostly  labour,  and  why? 

113.  Enumerate     the    chief    losses 

which  Latin  literature  has 
sustained. 

114.  Who  were  the  original  inhabi- 
•""•"■"tants    of    Italy?      Give    the 

main  characteristics  of  the 
Italic  family  of  languages.  To 
which  was  it  most  nearly 
akin? 

115.  Illustrate    from    Juvenal    the 

relations  between  patron  and 
client. 

116.  Contrast  briefly  the    life   and 

occupations  of  an  Athenian 
citizen  in  the  time  of  Periclei 
and  Plato,  with  those  of  a 
Roman  in  the  age  of  Cicero 
and  Augustus. 


M.B. — Many  gther  questions  will  be  suggested  by  referring  to  the  Index, 


INDEX. 


Accent,  natural  and  metrical,  30,  32. 

Accius,  65-67. 

Acilius,  C,  90. 

Adhortationes  of  Augustus,  247. 

Aelius  Stilo,  133. 

Aelius  Tubero,  Q.,  158. 

Aemilius,  spelling  of  decree  of,  13. 

Aemilius  Asper,  412. 

Aeneid,  Virgil's,  264-275 ;  its  scope 
and  object,  268,  sqq. 

Aeschylus  of  Cnidos,  161. 

Aesopus,  the  tragedian,  212,  213. 

Aetna,  the  poem  on,  372-374. 

Afranius,  L.,  55. 

African  Latinity,  456 

Agraria  Lex,  spelling  of,  13. 

Agrieola  of  Tacitus,  451. 

Atria  of  Varro,  150. 

Albinovanus,  Celsus,  296. 

Albinovanus,  Pedo,  313. 

Albucius  Silus,  319. 

Alexandria  and  its  literature,  214- 
220. 

Alliteration,  238,  239. 

Amarinius,  136. 

Ambivius  Turpio,  49. 

A  mores  of  Ovid,  306. 

Ampelius,  L.,  468. 

Amphitruo  of  Plautus,  44,  46. 

Annaeus  Cornutus,  354,  355. 

Annales  maximi,  88,  103. 

■  pontificum,   103 ;    published 

by  P.  MuciusScaevola,129. 
■    publici,  103. 

Annals  of  Tacitus,  453. 

Anser,  251,  275. 

Anthology,  219. 

Antiochus  the  Academic,  161. 

Antoninea,  period  of  the,  436;  phil- 
osophy and  religion  under  the,  473. 


Antonins,  Julius,  29(1. 

Antonius,  M.,  118-128. 

airddeia,  228. 

Aper,  M.,  410. 

Apion,  400. 

1 ArroKoXoKvvTwffis  of  Seneca,  8  T# 

Apollonius  Rhodius,  219. 

cnrocpdeynaTa  of  Cato,  98. 

Apuleius,  L.,  469-472,  480. 

Aratus,  217-219. 

Arbiter,  119. 

Archaisms  of  Sisenna,  102;  in  Tibo 

rius,  342 ;  in  Gellius,  466. 
Archias  defended  by  Cicero,  165. 
Archimedes,  216. 
Archiniinius,  239. 
Aristarchus,  216. 
Aristius  Fuscus,  296. 
Arruntius  Celsus,  467. 

Stella,  425. 

Ars  Amoris  of  Ovid,  307. 

Ars  Poetica,  295. 

Arval  Brothers,  Song  of,  14. 

Asconius  Pedianus,  Q.,  393. 

Asiatic  style  of  Oratory,  127,  181 

320,  473. 
Assonance,  238,  239. 
Ateius,  157. 

Ateius  Praetextatus,  158. 
Atellana,  29,  82-84,  208. 
Atilius,  55. 
Atta,  T.  Quintius,  55. 
Attic  style  of  oratory,  127,  181. 
Atticus  the  friend  of  Cicero,  lbl. 
Aurelius,  M.,  463,  465. 
Augustine,  St,  on  Varro's  Antiqui* 

ties  Divine  and  Iluvian,  147-140, 

on  Varro  generally,  151. 
Augustus,  243;  his  Apotheosis,  245 1 

his  policy  towards  men  of  letters, 

247. 


496 


HISTORY  OF  ROM  .X  LITERATURE. 


B. 

Balbus,  195,  442. 

Ballad  literature  of  Rome,  its  worth, 

26. 
Bassus,  Aufidius,  349. 

. Caesius,  356. 

Bathyllus,  211. 

Berber,  15. 

Bibaculus,  230,  414. 

Borrowing  of  Roman  poets  from  ote 

another,  204. 
Brutus,  417. 
Bucco,  83. 


•  Caecilius,  Statius,   48,49 ;  and  Ter- 
ence, story  of,  49. 

Caecina,  158. 

Oaelius,  Antipater,  IOC. 

Aurelianus,  4G3. 

Caesar,  188-193;  relations  with 
Varro,  142;  his  poetry,  213,  214; 
criticised  by  Quintilian,  416. 

Calidius,  185. 

Caligula,  352. 

Callimachus,  217-219. 

Calpurnius  Flaccus,  463. 

Piso,  98,  99. 

Siculus,  371. 

Calvus,  C.  Licinius,  185,  231,  232. 

Camerinus,  313. 

Carbo,  112;  the  younger,  124. 

Carmen  de  moribus,  of  Cato,  98. 

Carmen  Saeculare,  of  Horace,  284. 

Carmina,  25,  35,  98. 

Cascellius,  A.,  158. 

Cassius  Hemina,  98. 

Tato,  91-98;  disliked  Ennius,  60; 
as  an  orator,  109,  110;  hiz  dicta, 
98. 

Grammaticus,  158,  230. 

the    Stoic,    as  described   by 

Lucan,  364. 

Catullus,  232-238,  414;  his  influ- 
ence on  Virgil,  '253. 

Catulus,  Q.  Lutatius,  85,  117,  213. 

Cavea,  42. 

Celsus,  A.  Cornelius,  347,  417. 

Celtic  language,  its  relation  tc  the 
Italic,  10. 

Centum  viri,  119. 

Cerinthus,  301. 

Oestius  Fiut,  320. 


Christianity,    Seneca's    relation    toj 

385-390. 

Pliny's  account  of,  440. 

Cicero,   M.   Tullius,   159-185;  criti. 

cises  Ennius,   63 ;  as  a  poet,  184* 

186,   213;    tempted  to  write  his* 

tory,  187;  criticised  by  Quintilian, 

415. 

Q.,  159,  161 ;  his  poetry,  180. 

Cincijs,  L.,  Alinientus,  90. 

Cinna,  C.  Helvius,  231. 

Ciris,  311. 

Clamatores,  128. 

Classical  composition  in  the  imperial 

times,  3 
Claudius,  352 ;  his  changes  in  spell 

ing,  11. 
Claudius  Caecus,  Appius,  speech  of, 

25,  34,  109;  table  of  legis  actionem 

attributed  to  him,  35. 
Clodius  and   Cicero,   story  of,   165, 

166. 
Clodius,  Licinius,  100. 
Clodius  Rufus,  410. 
Codrus  or  Cordus,  434. 
Coelius,  185. 
Collapse  of  letters  on  the  death  of 

Augustus,  341. 
Columella,    392,    393;     quotes    tin 

Georgics,  261. 
Columna  Rostrata,   spelling  of,   12  j 

words  on,  17  ;  its  genuineness,  17. 
Comedy,  Roman,  42-55. 
Commentaries  of  Caesar,  189-195. 
Commentarii  Consulares,  88. 

Pontificum,  88. 

Consonants,  doubling  of,  11. 
Constitution,     Livy's    ignorance     o* 

growth  of,  327. 
Contamination,     meaning    of,     il 

used  by  Terence,  53. 
Controversiae  of  Seneca,  321. 
Conventionality  of  Virgil,  273. 
Copa,  'J57. 

Cornelius  Cethegus,  M.,  109. 
Oornificius,  132. 
Cotta,  C.  Aurelius,  123. 

L.,  110. 

Crassus,  M.  Licinius,  118-128. 
Cremutius  Cordus,  349. 
Crepidata,  46. 
Culex,  257. 
Cunei,  42. 
Curio,  185. 


INDEX. 


497 


(fortius,  Qnintns,  392. 
Cynegetiea,  313. 

D. 

P.  sign  of  ablative,  10. 

"Dates  of  Horace's  works,  2S5. 

Declaimers,  319,  348,  463,  474. 

Delation,  438. 

Demosthenss  and  Cicero  compared  by 

Quintiiian,  415. 
Dialects  of  early    Italy,  9  ;  of  fifth 

and  following  centuries,  21,  22. 
Didest,  11. 
Digest  of  Civil  Law,  by  Q.  Mucins 

Scaevola,  131. 
Dio  Chrysostom,  475. 
Diomedes  on  the  Roman  satire,  78. 
Dionysius  of  Magnesia, 
Divinatio,  120. 
Doctus,  of  Pacuvius,  62,  414. 

of  Catullus,  234. 

Domitius  Afer,  348,  416. 

Corbulo,  392. 

Marsus,  299. 

Donatus,  252. 
Dossennus,  212. 

E. 

Eclogues  of  Virgil,  255,  259-261. 
Edictum  perpetuum,  119. 

tralaticium,  120. 

Elegy,  Roman,  297. 

Elision  in  Ennius,  72. 

in  Virgil  and  other  Augustan 

poets,  276. 
Eloquence,    natural  aptitude  of  the 

Romans  for,  34. 
■  characteristics  of  ancient  and 

modern,  105-8. 
Empedocles,  222. 
Ennius,  58-62,  480  ;  as  an  epic  poet, 

68-74  ;  as  a  writer  of  saturae,  75, 

76,  78  ;  of  epigrams,  84  ;  criticised 

by  Quintiiian,  413. 
Enos,  14. 
Epic  poetry,  68-74  ;  founder  of  na- 

tional,  39  ;    Virgil's  aptitude  for, 

265. 
Epicedion,  423. 
Epicurus,  223. 

Epigram  at  Rome,  84-86,  432. 
Epistles  of  Horace,  292. 
Epistolae  amatoriae,  301. 
fcpithalamia  of  Catullus,  236. 


'EiruXAia,  218. 

Eratosthenes,  216. 

Erotic  elegy,  218. 

Etruria,    its    influence  in   origin   of 

Latin  Literature,  4  ;  its  languago, 

10. 
Euclid,  216. 
Euphorion,  219. 
Euripides,  the  model  of  Roman  tr*» 

gedians,  57,  216. 
Excellences  of  Horace's  Odes,  291. 
Exile  of  Ovid,  309. 
Exodium,  29. 

Extravagance  of  Lucan,  369. 
Uzum  —  esse,  11. 

F. 

F,  in  Oscan  and  Umbrian,  11. 
Fabius  Cunctator,  109. 

Pictor,  89. 

Q.  Maximus  Servilianus,  98, 

Fabula  Atellana,  29  ;  Milesia,  397. 

Faliscus,  313. 

Fannius,  C,  100,  112,  441. 

Fasti,  325  ;  of  Ovid,  308. 

Favorinus,  463. 

Fenestella,  333. 

Fescenninae,  28  ;  derivation  of,  28 

late  specimens  of,  28. 
Fignlus,  C,  a  story  of,  129. 
Flavius  Caper,  442. 
Floras,  462. 

Julius,  296. 

Fortuna,  the  deity  of  Lucan,  36S 

Frontinns,  410-412. 

Fronto,  463-465. 

Fu,  14. 

Fulvius  Nobilior,  98. 

Fulvius,  Servius,  110. 

Fundanius,  296. 

Furius,  74. 

Fuscus  Arellius,  319. 

G. 

Gains,  the  jurist,  466. 
Galba,  Serv.,  Ill,  112. 
Gallus,  Asinius,  348. 

Cornelius,  298. 

Sulpicius,  110. 

Gellius,  100  ;  Aulus,  465,  461 
Georgics  of  Virgil,  261-264 
Germania  of  Tacitus,  45 
Germanicns,  349. 
Gracchi,  era  of,  118. 

Si 


498 


INDEX. 


Gracchus,  Cains,  111. 

Tiberius,  113. 

Grammar,  writers  upon,  133, 134,  442 

Grandiloquence  of  Roman  tragedy,  58. 

Granius  Lieinianus,  468. 

Gratius,  313. 

Gravitas,  34,  106. 

Greece,   its  influence  over  origin  of 

Latin  literature,  4 ;  early  relations 

with  Rome,  4. 
Greek  Literature,  influence  of,  1,  2, 

36  ;  introduction  of,  to  Rome,  36. 
Gromatics  treated  by  Frontinus,  411. 

h. 

Hadrian,  456. 

Halieuticon  of  Ovid,  311. 

Haterius,  Q.,  319. 

Hebdomades  of  Varro,  150. 

Herennium,  Auctor  ad,  132. 

Heroides  of  Ovid,  306. 

Hesiod,  the  model  of  the  Georgics, 

261. 
Hexameter  of  Ennius,  71-73. 
Hiatus  in  Ennius,  72. 
Hipparchus,  216. 
Hirtius,  A.,  continuation  of  Caesar's 

Commentaries,  195. 
Historiae,  103. 

of  Sallust,  202. 

Histories  of  Tacitus,  452. 

History,    early  writers  of,    87-102 ; 

Roman    treatment    of,   324;  414, 

sources  of,  325. 
Horace,  280-296 ;  criticised  by  Quin- 

tilian,  414. 
Hortensius,  124-128. 
Hostius,  74. 
Humanitas,  59. 
Humilitas,  of  Lucilius,  79. 
Hyginus,  C.  Julius,  333,  442, 

L 

lapygians,  9 ;  their  language,  10. 

Ibis  of  Ovid,  311. 

Iccius,  296. 

i\apo-Tpay(i)5ia,  46,  144." 

Imagines  of  Varro,  150. 

Imitation  of  Virgil  in   Propertius, 

Ovid,  and  Manilius,  275. 
Imperative,  full  form  of,  15, 
Improvisation,  424. 
Inanitas,  132. 
Iticurvuwnriciui  64 


Italic  languages  and  dialects,  10, 

lra\iKT]  Ktafiydia,  46. 

Italy,  earliest  inhabitants  of,  9. 

J. 

Janitriccs,  10. 
Javolenus  Priscus,  441. 
Jerome,    St,  Life    of  Lucretius   by, 
220,  221. 

—  borrows  idea  of  Church  bio 
graphics  from  Suetonius,  458 

Judices,  107. 

Selecti,  119. 

Julianus,  Antonius,  463. 
Julius  Africanus,  Sex.,  467. 

Seeundus,  410,  417. 

Jurisprudence,     philosophical,    462^, 
467. 

a  branch  of  thought  which 

the  Romans  worked  out  for  them* 
selves,  35,  36. 

Jus  augurale,  130. 

civile,  130. 

pontificum,  130. 

Justinus,  331,  462. 

Juvenal,   442-448 ;   imitates  Yirgfl, 

275  ;  imitates  Lucan,  448,  n, 
Juventius,  55. 
Celsus,  441. 

K. 

Kui/j.a)8oTpaycp5lai,  144 


Laberius,  D.,  210. 

Laezius,  110,  111. 

Lampadio,  Octavius,  138* 

Lanuvinus,  55. 

Largus,  313. 

Largus  Licinus,  413. 

Loses,  14. 

Latin  language,    its    exactness,    2: 

the  best  example  of   syntactical 

structure,  2 ;   earliest  remains  of, 

9-21 ;  alphabet,  11 ;  pronunciation 

of,  12;  spelling  of,  12. 
Latin  literature,  influence  of,  1,  2 ; 

origin  of,   4;  three  periods  of,  5; 

language    different  from    popular 

language,    20;    review   of,    480; 

aristocratic,  480. 
Latin  races,   9;    characteristics  of, 

23;    religion    of,    24;    primitive 

culture  of,  24. 


INDEX. 


499 


Lavinius,  Luscius,  55. 

Law,  early  study  of,  34,  35 ;  writers 

on  129-131,  467. 
Law  courts,  Roman,  119. 
Legends  connected  with  Virgil,  278, 

279. 
Lepidus,  Aemilius,  112. 
Lesbia  of  Catullus,  233. 
Letters  newly  introduced  by  Claudius, 

11. 
Letters  of  Cicero,  181-184. 
Letter-writing,  181. 
Librarii,  27,  182. 
Library  at  Alexandria,  215  ;  at  Rome, 

142. 
Libri  Pontificii,  104. 

-  Pontificum,  10A 

-  -         Praetorii,  88. 
Licinius  Imbrex,  55. 

•  Mucianus,  410, 

Licinus  Porcius,  85. 

Lingua  Latina,  21, 

■  ■  Romana,  21. 

Lintei  Libri,  88,  325. 

Literary  criticism  of  Horace,  295. 

Livius  Andronicus,   37,  38 ;    writes 

poem  on  victory  of  Sena,  38. 
Livy,    246,   322-331;    criticised  by 

Quintilian,  415. 
Locative  case,  11. 
Logistorici  of  Varro,  146,  156. 
(Lucan,    359-371 ;     imitates    Virgil, 
^  275;  criticised  by  Quintilian,  413; 

imitated  by  Juvenal,  448. 
Lucceius,  187. 

Lucilius,  78-81;  criticised  by  Quin- 
tilian, 414. 

Junior,  372. 

Lucretius,    220-230;    criticised    by 

Quintilian,  413. 
Ludi  Romani,  24. 
Lite,  14. 
Lupus,  313. 
Lycophron,  220. 
Lyrical  powers  of  Horace,  280. 

M 

Macaulay's  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome, 

26. 
Maccus,  83. 
Macer,  311. 
Ilacer,  Aemilius,  251 ;  criticised  by 

Quintilian,  413. 
*— ■ —  C.  Licinius,  102. 


Maecenas,  244 ;  the  friend  of  Horace, 

281. 
Mamercus  Scaurus,  348. 
Manilian  law  advocated  by  Caesar, 
163. 

Speech  of  Cicero,  ib. 

Manilius,  313-318;  imitates  Virgil, 

275. 
Marmar,  14. 
Marsians,  9. 
Martial,  429-433. 
Massa,  11. 

Materialism  in  Roman  Poetry,  429. 
Matins,  74,  195,  211. 
Medea,  308. 

Medicamiua  Faciei  of  Ovid,  308. 
Medicine  at  Rome,  347. 
Memmius  the    friend  of  Lucretius, 

221,  231. 
Menippeae  Saturae,   76;    of  Varro, 
144-146,  156. 

of  Seneca,  377. 

Menippus  of  Gadara,  144. 

of  Stratonice,  161. 

Messala,  248,  319,416. 

Messalinus,  319. 

Messapians,  9. 

Metamorphoses    of    Ovid,    308;    of 

Apuleius,  471. 
Metre  of  Plautus,    48;    of   Roman 

satire,  76;  of  Cicero,  186;  Satur- 

nian,  30,  31. 
HerptoTrjSi  52. 
Milesian  fable,  397,  472. 1 
Milo  defended  by  Cicero,  167. 
Mime,  29,  208-211,  239,  240,  434. 
Mimiambi,  211. 
Molo,  160,  161. 
Monimsen    on    Greek  influence    on 

origin  of  Roman  literature,  4;  on 

early  inhabitants  of  Italy,  9. 
Montanus,  313. 
Monuments     of     early     language, 

13—21. 
Moral  aspect  of  the  Aeneid,  272. 
Moretum,  257;  of  Suevius,  67,  257, 
Mummius,  84. 
Munmiius,  Sp.,  112. 
Musonius  Rui'us,  C,  359. 

N 
Naevius,  Cn.,  38-40. 
Natural  period  in  verse,  298. 
Natural  History  of  Pliny,  843. 


500 


INDEX. 


Nature,    Lucretius's   love    of,    222 ; 

Virgil's,  263  ;  Statius's,  424. 
Neoplatonism,  216. 
Nepos,  Cornelius,  198-200. 
Nero,  353  ;  his  contest  with  Lucan, 

360 ;    account    of    his    death    by 

Suetonius,  460. 
Neronian  literature,  character  of,  352. 
Nicander,  218. 
Nigidius  Figulus,  P.,  158. 
Novius,  83; 

0. 

O,   shortening  of,   in  Latin  poetry, 

276,  277. 
Odes  of  Horace,  281-292. 
Offices  of  state  held  by  Post- Augustan 

writers,  343. 
Oino,  12, 
Olympus,  gods  of,  in  Roman  poetry, 

70,  71. 
6fioioTc\€VToy,  239. 
Opici,  97. 
Oppius,  196. 
Oratory,  Roman,  105  ;  in  later  times, 

438,  489  ;  of  Cicero  criticised,  169- 

174  ;  treated  by  Quintilian,   408  ; 

of  Tacitus,  450  ;    almost  extinct, 

even  under  Augustus,  319. 
Orbilius  Pupillus,  280. 
Orbius,  P.,  157. 
Origines  of  Cato,  93-95. 
Oscans,  9  ;  their  dialect,  10  ;  alpha- 
.    bet,   11  ;   language  used  in  atel- 
'    lanae,  82. 
Osci  Ludi,  29. 
Ostentationes,  426,  474. 
Ovid,  305-311  ;  imitates  Virgil,  275  ; 

criticised  by  Quintilian,  413. 

P. 

Pacuvius,  62-64  ;  a  writer  of  saturae, 
78. 

! Labeo,  157. 

Paedagogi,  280. 

Pagus,  252. 

Palliatae,  38,  46. 

Pallium,  209. 

Panegyrics,  474. 

Pantomimi,  211. 

Papirius  Fabiauus,  334. 

Pappus,  83. 

Parallelism  in  Virgil,  277,  278. 


Parius,   Julis,  his  abridgment  of  Vl 

lerius  Maximus,  346. 
Paronomasia.  239. 
Passienus  Paulus,  441. 

Patavinitas  of  Livy,  330. 

Patriotic  odes  of  Horace,  288. 

Patriotism  of  Virgil,  252,  274  ;  of 
Horace,  288  ;  of  Juvenal,  446 ;  ol 
Tacitus,  452. 

Ufrkoypa<pla  of  Varro,  150. 

Period,  101. 

Periodi  of  Pacuvius,  64. 

Persius,  355-359. 

Pervigilium  Veneris,  468. 

Petronius  Arbiter,  394-399. 

Phaedrus  the  Epicurean,  161. 

Phaedrus,  349-350. 

Philetas,  217-219. 

Philippics  of  Cicero,  184-186. 

Philodemus  of  Gadara,  136. 

Philosophers  banished  from  Rome, 
134  ;  part  of  a  Roman  establish- 
ment, 354. 

Philosophy,  early  writers  upon,  134  ; 
relation  of  to  the  state  religion, 
137  ;  of  Cicero,  174-179  ;  Virgil's 
enthusiasm  for,  253  ;  in  later  times 
at  Rome,  476  ;  united  to  rhetoric, 
477,  and  to  religion,  ib. 

Phoenician  language  in  Plautus,  46. 

Pis,  10. 

Planipes,  209. 

Platonism  of  Apuleius,  478. 

Plautus,  T.  Maceius,  43-48  ;  his  Am- 
phitruo  and  Ka>/j.a)$oTpaya>$la,  144. 

Pleorcs,  14. 

Pliny  the  elder,  400-407. 

the  younger,  437-442  ;  on  his 

uncle,  403. 

Flotinus,  216. 

Plotius,  Crispinus,  334. 

Gallus,  132. 

Poet,  early  position  of,  26. 

Poeta,  27. 

Poetical  works  of  Cicero,  184-186. 

Poetry,  beiore  prose,  35 ;  ancient, 
418. 

Pollio,  Asinius,  246,  319,  416. 

Claudius,  441. 

Polybius  at  Rome,  134. 

Pompilius,  85. 

Pomponius  the  writer  of  Atellanaq, 
83. 

Pomponius  Mela,  394.  , 


INDEX 


501 


Pomponius  Secnndus,  350,  351. 

Sextus,  462. 

Poiiticus,  311. 

Pontificate,  impersonated  according  to 

some  in  Aeneas,  272. 
Popular  speech  different  from  literary 

language,  20. 
Porcius  Latro,  319.    ^- — 
Postumius  Albinus,  907 
Poverty,  affectation  of,  by  Augustan 

writers,  300. 
Praetexta,  38. 

Prayer,  how  treated  by  Persius,  357. 
Praetor  Urbanus  and  Peregrinus,  119. 
Praevaricatio,  162. 
Priscus  Neratius,  441. 
Probus,  Valerius,  394. 
Pronunciation   of  Latin,  12. 
Propertius,     249,     302-305  ;      took 

Philetas      and      Callimachus     as 

models,  218  ;  imitated  Virgil,  275. 
Proscaenium,  42. 
HpocraiSla,  32. 

Pseudo-tragoediae  of  Varro,  144. 
Pulpitum,  42. 
Pylades,  211. 
Pythagorean  ism   of  Ennius,    60  ;  of 

Figulus,  158  ;  of  the  Sextii,  334. 

Q. 

Quadrati  versus,  58. 

Quadrigarius,  Claudius,  90,  101. 

Quaesitor,  120. 

Quaestio,  120. 

Quintilian,  407-410  ;  upon  Pacuvius, 

64 ;    his  account    of    the   Roman 

authors,  413-417. 

R. 

R,  sign  of  passive,  10. 

Rabirius,  136,  313. 

Recitations  of  works  by  authors,  425. 

Relation    of     Aeneid    to    preceding 

poetry,  273. 
Religio,  57. 

Religion,  later  Roman,  478. 
Religious  aspect  of  the  Aeneid,  269. 
Remedia  Amoris  of  Ovid,  308. 
Remmius  Palaemon,  348. 
Responsa   Prudentium,   35,    247  ;  of 

P.  Mucius  Scaevola,  129. 
Reticence "  of    later    writori    about 

themselves,  487. 


Rhetoric,  writers  upon,  131-133; 
late  Greek  writers  upon,  473  J 
united  with  philosophy,  447. 

Rhetorical  period  in  verse,    298. 

Rhetorical  questions,  treatment  off 
337. 

Rhetorical  works  of  Cicero,  180,  181. 
I  Rhetoricians  banished  from  Rome, 
134. 

Rhinthonica,  46,  144. 

Rhyme,  beginnings  of,  239. 

Rhythm  of  Tragedy,  58. 

Roman  literature,  date  of  beginning, 
27,  28. 

Romulus,  a  law  of,  15. 

Roscius  Sext.  Amerinus,  defended  by 
Cicero,  160. 

Roscius,  the  comedian,  212,  213  ;  de- 
fended by  Cicero,  161. 

Rue,  14. 

Rufus,  313. 

P.  Suipicius,  123,  157. 

Rutilius,  117. 

Lupus,  319. 

& 

Sabinus,  312. 

Salian  Hymns,  fragments  of,  15. 
Sallustius  Crispus,  C,  200-205. 
Salvius  Julianus,  462. 

Liberalis,  441. 

Samnites,  9. 

Santra,  158. 

Satire,  Roman,  75-81. 

Satires  of  Horace,  292  ;  of  Juvenal, 

444. 
Satura,  24,  29  ;  account  from  Livy  of, 

29  ;  etymology  of,  75. 
Saturnian  metre,    30-33  ;    scanning 

of,    30  ;    laws    of,    according    to 

Spcngel,  31. 
Saturnius,  30. 
Scaena,  42. 
Scaevius  Memor,  433. 
Scaevola  attacked  by  Lucilius,    7% 

112. 
Scaevola,  P.  Mucius,  129. 
Q.  Mucius,  130  ;  the  yomnger, 

131. 
Scaurua,  Aemilius,  116.- 
School-books,   334. 
Scipio  Aemilianus,  69  ;  «san  oratot, 
110-112. 


«02 


INDEX 


Scipio  Afrieanus,  friend  of  Ennius, 
59  ;  as  an  orator,  1 1 0. 

Seipios,  epitaphs  in  tombs  of,  17,  18. 

Scope  of  Flavian  poets,  419. 

Scriba,  27. 

Seribonins  Largus,  393. 

Self  praise  of  Roman  orators,  115. 

Sempronins  Asellio,  100. 

Sonatas  Consnltum  de  Bacchanalibus, 
18,  19. 

Seneca  the  elder,  320-322. 

one  of  his  suasoriae,  335. 

Seneca  the  younger,  tragedies,  374- 
377  ;  as  a  prose  writer,  378-391  ; 
as  a  philosopher,  382  ;  in  relation 
to  Christianity,  385-390  ;  his  style, 
390,  391  j  criticised  by  Quintilian, 
417. 

Sensationalism  of  Lucan,  366. 

Sentenliae,  of  Ennius,  64. 

Sergius  Flavius,  334. 

Severus,  Cornelius,  312  :  criticised 
by  Quintilian,  413. 

Sextius  Pythagoreus,  334, 

Sibylline  books,  278. 

Sicily,  influence  of,  4,  27,  216,  n. 

Sicuius  Flaccus,  442. 

Silius  Italicus,  421,  422 ;  imitates 
Virgil,  275. 

Silli,  76. 

Similes,  in  Ennius,  73  ;  of  Georgics 
reproduced  in  Aeneid,  259  ;  of  Vir- 
gil, Lucan,  and  Statius  compared, 
435. 

Siparium,  239. 

Siro,  253. 

Sisenna,  L.  Cornelius,  101. 

Slaves,  presence  of  at  theatres,  42. 

Soccus,  209. 

Society  as  represented  in  Juvenal,  446. 

Sophists,  473. 

Rortes  Virgilianae,  278. 

Spanish  Latinity,  456. 

Spelling  of  Latin,  12  ;  of  Accius,  66. 

Statius  the  elder,  423. 

. the  younger,  423-429  ;  imi- 
tates Virgil,  275. 

Strabo,  J.  Caesar,  208. 

Suada(=Il6t0c6),  109. 

Suasoriae,  Seneca's,  321  ;  a  specimen 
of,  335 ;  as  distinguished  from 
Ctmtroversiae,  338. 

Suetonius,  456-462. 

buevius,  67,  257. 


Sulpicia,  o01,  434. 
Sulpicins,  195. 

Sulpicius  Apollinaris,  C.    467. 
Syrus  Publilius,  210,  21-    239,  240 
one  of  his  fragments,  240. 

T. 

Tabernaria,  55,  208. 

Tabulae  Censoriae,  88. 

Tacitus,   449-455  ;  imitates  Sallust 

203,  205. 
Tempe,  264. 
Terence,  49-54. 
Terentius  Scaurus,  463. 
Testamentum  Porcelli,  397. 
Theatre,    Roman,    41 ;   according  tt 

Vitruvius,  41. 
Theocritus,  216. 
Thrasea,  355. 
Tiberius,  342. 
Tibullus,  299-302. 
Ticidas,  231. 
Tigellius,  212. 
Titinius,  55. 
Titius,  296. 
Tmesis  in  Ennius,  72. 
Togatae,  38,  46,  55,  208. 
Trabea,  55. 
Trabeata,  47. 
Trachalus,  409-416. 
Tragedy,  Roman,  character  of,  66,  57  t 

in  imperial  times,  351. 
Tragico-comoedia,  46. 
Trajan,  style  of,  441. 
Trebatius,  C,  157. 
Trogus,  Pompeius,  331. 
Tubero,  205. 
Tulliola,  184. 

Tullius  defended  by  Cicero,  161. 
Turnus,  433. 
Turpilius,  55. 
Tuticanus,  312. 
Twelve  Tables,  laws  of,  1 

U. 

IT,  sound  of,  10. 

Ulpius  Marcellus,  467. 

Umbrians,  9;  their  dialect,  0,   10/ 

alphabet,  11. 
Urbanitas,  196. 


Valerius,  55. 
I  ■    ■         Aedituus,  85- 


INDEX. 


503 


Valerius  Antias,  101. 
■  ■  Cato,  230. 

-  Flaccus,  419-  421. 

Maximus,  346. 

— Soranus,  240. 

Valgius  lUilus,  C,  295. 

Vargunteius,  133. 

Varius,  Kufus,  L.,  250,  251. 

Varro,  141-156;  criticised  by  Quin- 

tilian,  414. 
— ■  Atacinus,  157,  231 ;  criticised 

by  Quiutilian,  413. 
Vatcs,  27. 

Velius  Longus,  442. 
Velleius  Paierculus,  344-346. 
Venuonius,  100. 
Verginius  Komanus,  211. 

Rufus,  433. 

Verres  impeached    by   Cicero,    161, 

162. 
Vermis  Flaccus,  333. 
Vestricius  Spurinna,  434. 
Vesuvius,  eruption  of,  described  by 

Pliny  the  younger,  402. 
Victorias  Marcellus,  412. 
Vidularia  of  Plautus  lost,  44. 
Vipstanus  Messala,  410. 
y\ra*pt  272 


Virgil,  252-279  ;1  imitates"  Ennius, 
62 ;  alludes  to  Cicero's  eloquence, 
164;  his  Aeneid  edited  by  Varius, 
251 ;  verses  of  Propertius  upon, 
303,  304;  criticised  by  Quintilian, 
413 ;  his  similes  compared  with 
those  of  Statins  and  Lucan,  435; 
imitated  by  Juvenal,  448. 

Virginius  Flavus,  355. 

Vitellius,  P.,  348. 

Vitruvius,  241,  247,  331-338. 

Voconius  Romanus   441. 

Volscians,  9. 

Volusius  Maecianus,  467. 

Votienus  Montanus,  348. 

Vowels,  doubling  of,  11. 

W 

Words,  invention  of,  47;  Greek,  it 
Plautus,  47 ;  choice  of,  hy  Accias, 
65. 


Xenocles  of  Adramyttium,  161. 

Z 
Zeno,  161 ;   on  the  immortality  of 
the  aoul,  478. 


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