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, . . . , . . . , fc 129 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 Mimus t ...... 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* ^ •••••• 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 Europe 1 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 Italic 1 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 (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.), coiisoluy 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 li f .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 — 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 altoget u ** 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 Cicero 3 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 Maurus 1 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 JPM Wb 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 Quintiliaii 5 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 Gellius 7 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 together 1 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 told 1 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°-P lv 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 eit her idea l oi imaginative about them. The remark of Horace 4 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 Andria 2 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 Cicero 2 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. Quintilian 5 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 trochaic 1 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 us 2 — " 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 avOpuippedn, 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 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 arex vov 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 Macrobius 3 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 Gellius 1 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 — " Pacvi 4 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 record 1 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. Niebuhr 1 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 Uepaiu 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 airoB '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 w r onld 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, w T as 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 w r ant 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, Gellius 3 (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 'J 4 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. & 4 iv. 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. Cicero 2 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 dialogue 3 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 Fronto 4 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 Cicero 3 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 Marius 2 (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, w T e may appreciate his honesty ; but we gladly acknowledge a stf*s." — Plat. Rep. Bk. iv. 2 iurddeia, arapafja. * 67rt(TT77/ii7 and 5i 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 j 1 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 place 1 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 !nbi *\QV.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\dss. 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. ] K jZ ( 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 army 2 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. 2 Ib. 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 details 11 (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. 10 ld. 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 campaigns 3 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 vale 2 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 Phocion 1 we have a sentence incomplete ; in the Chabrias 2 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 history 3 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 death 6 (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 Memmius 1 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 Catiline 4 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 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. 8 Ep. 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 Munro 4 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 ivvo-€(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 Empedocles 1 (460 b.c). But while Aristotle deniei Empedocles the title of poet 2 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 truth 5 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 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 style 4 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. 8 Ov. 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 judgment 3 notes his deficiency both in originality and copiousness, but allows him the merit of a careful translator. We gather from a passage of Ovid 4 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 x a *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 Mallius 1 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\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 : 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 Tibullus 4 and Propertius 5 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 Ovid 5 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 eloquence 3 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 passage 2 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 lines 7 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 Quintilian 8 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 Quintilian 1 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, Vergilius 1 Maro, was Twin in the village or district 2 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 two 6 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 part 2 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 Aeneid f 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 " 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 Eclogues 2 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 Aeneid 8 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 pliiet 4 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 it 2 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/aut t la riputaiim\ ), 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, w r as 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 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 voces 2 " 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. 6 Od. 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 Poetica y 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 Juno 1 ? 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 Europa 4 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, 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 basilica 1 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 ; 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 To5e ; rl 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 poetess 2 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 unintelligible 4 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 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 l EL 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 complained 4 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) r 8 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 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 j 1 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 friends 1 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 exterior 1 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 implies 3 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 Pontus 4 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 Seneca 7 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 Ovid 2 we gather that Gratius 3 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 Varus 1 (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 views 5 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 Aratus 6 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 Virgil 4 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 philosophy 2 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 Seelej T '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 Pliny 2 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 f hat 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 mam 1 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 Genealogiae y 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 Suasoriae f 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. 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 extempore 1 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 science 2 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 says 1 — " 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 poverty 3 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, show r s 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, w r here 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. 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 Bassus 2 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 — " 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 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 Rhenumque 3 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 alL 1 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 combat 1 ? 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