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 I 
 
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 ♦— T"
 
 :2 u o 
 
 re 
 
 LIFE OF CICERO 
 
 VOLUME I
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE OF CICERO 
 
 liV 
 
 ANTHONY TROLLOPE 
 
 '// 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, Limited, 193, Piccadilly 
 1880 
 
 [All Bights Beserved.]
 
 LONDO^' : 
 E. Clay, Sons, and Taylor, 
 
 BREAD STREET HILL.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PACK 
 
 Introductiox 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Cicero's Education 41 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Condition of Rome .68 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 His Early Pleadings, — Sextus Roscius Amerinus, — His 
 
 Income . 90 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Cicero as Qu^^stor 123
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Verres 145 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Cicero as ^dile and Pr.etor 192 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Cicero as Consul 219 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Catiline . . . . • 246 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Cicero aitku his Consulship 289 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 'J'm: TuiUMViRATK 318 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 lliH I'^vii,). 359
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 APPENDICES. 
 
 Appendix A. 
 Appendix B. 
 Appendix C. 
 Appendix D. 
 Appendix E. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 405 
 
 410 
 412 
 414 
 417
 
 i 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE OF CICEEO 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I AM conscious of a certain audacity in thus attempting to 
 give a further life of Cicero which I feel I may probably fail 
 in justifying by any new information ; and on this account 
 the enterprise, though it has been long considered, has been 
 postponed, so that it may be left for those who come after 
 me to burn or publish as they may think proper ; — or should 
 it appear during my life I may have become callous through 
 age to criticism. 
 
 The project of my work was anterior to the life by Mr, 
 Forsyth, and was first suggested to me as I was reviewing 
 the earlier volumes of Dean Merivale's History of the Eomans 
 under the Empire. In an article on the Dean's work, pre- 
 pared for one of the magazines of the day, I inserted an 
 apology for the character of Cicero which was found to be 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 too long as an episode, and was discarded by me, not without 
 regret. From that time the subject has grown in my 
 estimation till it has reached its present dimensions, 
 
 1 may say with truth that my book has sprung from love 
 of the man, and from a heartfelt admiration of his virtues and 
 his conduct as well as of his gifts. I must acknowledge that 
 in discussing his character with men of letters, as I have been 
 prone to do, I have found none quite to agree with me. His 
 intellect they have admitted and his industry ; but his 
 patriotism they have doubted, his sincerity they have dis- 
 puted, and his courage they have denied. It might have 
 become me to have been silenced by their verdict, but I have 
 rather been instigated to appeal to the public and to ask them 
 to agree with me against my friends. It is not, only, that 
 Cicero has touched all matters of interest to men and has given 
 a new grace to all that he has touched, that as an orator, a 
 rhetorician, an essayist, and a correspondent he was supreme, 
 that as a statesman he w^as honest, as an advocate fearless, 
 and as a governor pure, — that he was a man whose intellec- 
 tual part always dominated that of the body, that in taste he 
 ■was excellent, in thought both correct and enterprising, and 
 that in language he was perfect. All this has been already 
 so said of him by other biographers. Plutarch, who is as 
 familiar to us as though he had been Englisli, and Middle- 
 ton, wlio thoroughly loved his subject, and latterly Mr. 
 Forsytli, who has struggled to be honest to him, anight have 
 sufhcod as telling us so mucli as that. But there was a 
 liiinianity in Cicero, a something almost of Christianity, a 
 stepi>ing I'urward out of the dead intellectualities of Eoman
 
 INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 life into moral perceptions, into natural affections, into 
 domesticity, philanthropy and conscious discharge of duty, 
 which do not seem to have been as yet fully appreciated. 
 To have loved his neighbour as himself before the teaching 
 of Christ was much for a man to achieve ; and that he did 
 tliis is what I claim for Cicero and hope to bring home to the 
 minds of those who can find time for reading yet another 
 added to the constantly increasing volumes about Eoman times. 
 
 It has been the habit of some latter writers, who have left 
 to Cicero his literary honours, to rob him of those which had 
 been accorded to him as a politician. Macaulay, expressing 
 his surprise at the fecundity of Cicero, and then passing on 
 to the praise of the Philippics as senatorial speeches, says of 
 him that he seems to have been at the head of the " minds of 
 the second order." We cannot judge of the classification 
 without knowing how many of the great men of the world 
 are to be included in the first rank. But Macaulay probably 
 intended to express an opinion that Cicero was inferior be- 
 cause he himself had never dominated others as Marius had 
 done, and Sylla, and Pompey, and Csesar, and Augustus. P>ut 
 what if Cicero was ambitious for the good of others while 
 these men had desired power only for themselves ! 
 
 Dean Merivale says that Cicero was " discreet and de- 
 corous," — as with a similar sneer another clergyman, Sydney 
 Smith, ridiculed a Tory prime minister because he was true 
 to his wife. There is nothing so open to the bitterness of a 
 little joke as those humble virtues by which no glitter can be 
 gained but only the happiness of many preserved. And the 
 Dean declares that Cicero himself was not, except once or 
 
 B 2
 
 4 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 twice, and for a " moment only, a real power in the state." 
 Men who usurped authority, such as those I have named, 
 were the "real powers," and it was in opposition to such 
 usurpation that Cicero was always urgent. Mr. Forsyth who, as 
 I have said, strives to be impartial, tells us that " the chief fault 
 of Cicero's moral character was a want of sincerity." Absence 
 of sincerity there was not. Deficiency of sincerity there 
 was. Who among men has been free from such blame since 
 history and the lives of men were first written ? It wall 
 be my object to show that though less than godlike in that 
 gift, by comparison with other men around him he was 
 sincere; — as he was also self-denying, which, if the two 
 virtues be well examined, will indicate the same phase of 
 character. 
 
 But of all modern writers Mr. Froude has been the hardest 
 to Cicero, His sketch of the life of Csesar is one prolonged 
 censure on that of Cicero, Our historian, with all that glory 
 of language for which he is so remarkable, has covered the 
 poor orator with obloquy. There is no period in Cicero's 
 life so touching, I think, as that during which he was hesi- 
 tating whether, in the service of the Bepublic, it did or did 
 not behove him to join Pompey before the battle of Pharsalia. 
 At this time he wrote to his friend Atticus various letters full 
 of agonising doubts, — as to what was demanded from him by 
 his duty to his couiitiy, by his friendship for Pompey, by 
 loyalty to his party, and by his own dignity. As to a passage 
 in one of these Mr. Froude says " that Cicero had lately spoken 
 of Caisur's continuance in life as a disgrace to the State." 
 " It has been seen also that he had lon<:r thought of assas-
 
 introduction: 5 
 
 sination as the readiest means of ending it," ^ says Mr. Fronde. 
 The " It has been seen " refers to a statement made a few 
 pages earlier, in which he translates certain words written by 
 Cicero to Atticns.- " He considered it a disgrace to them 
 that Caesar was alive." That is his translation ; and in his 
 indignation he puts other words as it were into the mouth of 
 his literary brother of two thousand years before. " Why did 
 not somebody kill him ? " The Latin words themselves are 
 added in a note, ■' Cum vivere ipsum turpe sit nobis." ^ Hot 
 indignation has so carried the translator away that he has 
 missed the very sense of Cicero's language. " When even to 
 draw the breath of life at such a time is a disgrace to us ! " 
 That is what Cicero meant. Mr. Froude in a preceding pas- 
 sage gives us another passage from a letter to Atticus,^ " Caesar 
 was mortal. " ^ So much is an intended translation. Then 
 Mr. Froude tells us how Cicero had " hailed Caesar's eventual 
 murder with rapture ; " and goes on to say ; — " We read the 
 words with sorrow and yet with pity." But Cicero had never 
 dreamed of Caesar's murder. The words of the passage are as 
 follows ; " Hunc primum mortalem esse, delude etiam multis 
 modis extingui posse cogitabam." " I bethought myself in the 
 first place that this man was mortal, and then that there were 
 a hundred ways in which he might be put on one side." All 
 the latter authorities have, I believe, supposed the " hunc " or 
 " this man " to be Pompey. I should say that this was proved 
 by the gist of the whole letter, — one of the most interesting 
 
 ^ Froude's Ct^sar, p. 444. 2 i^id^ p_ 428. 
 
 3 Ad Att. lib. xiii. 28. 
 
 * Ad Att. ix. 10. 5 Fronde, p. 365.
 
 6 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 tliat was ever written, as telling tlie workings of a great man's 
 mind at a peculiar crisis of his life, — did I not know that 
 former learned editors have supposed Cffisar to have been 
 meant. But whether C?esar or Pompey, there is nothing in it 
 to do with murder. It is a question, — Cicero is saying to his 
 friend, — of the stability of the Republic. When a matter so 
 great is considered, how is a man to trouble himself as to 
 an individual who may die any day, or cease from any 
 accident to be of weight? Cicero was speaking of the 
 effect of this or that step on his own part. Am I, he 
 says, for the sake of Pompey to bring down hordes of bar- 
 barians on my own country, sacrificing the Ptepublic for the 
 sake of a friend who is here to-day and may be gone to- 
 morrow ? Or for the sake of an enemy, if the reader thinks 
 that the " liunc " refers to Cresar. The argument is the same. 
 Am I to consider an individual when the Eepublic is at stake ? 
 Mr. Froude tells us that he reads " the words with sorrow and 
 yet with pity." So would every one, I think, sympathising 
 with the patriot's doubts as to his leader, and to his party, and 
 as to liis country. Mr. Froude does so because he gathers 
 from them that Cicero is premeditating the murder of Caesar ! 
 
 It is natural tliat a man should be judged out of his own 
 mouth. A man wlio speaks much and so speaks that his 
 words shall be listened to and read, will be so judged. But 
 it is not too much to demand that when a man's character 
 is at stake liis own words sliall be thoroughly sifted before 
 they are used against liim. 
 
 The writer of tlu; lji(»gra])]iiciil notice in the Encyclopaedia 
 r.rilaiinica on Cicero, sends down to posterity a statement
 
 INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 that ill the time of the first triumvirate, when our hero was 
 withstanding the machinations of Caesar and Ponipey against 
 the liberties of Eome, he was open to be bought. The augur- 
 ship would have bought him. " So pitiful," says the bio- 
 grapher, " was the bribe to which he would have sacrificed 
 his honour, his opinions, and the commonwealth ! " With no 
 more sententious language was the character of a great man 
 ever offered up to public scorn. And on what evidence ? 
 We should have known nothing of the bribe and the cor- 
 ruption but for a few playful words in a letter from Cicero 
 himself to Atticus. He is writing from one of his villas to 
 his friend in Eome and asks for the news of the day. Who 
 are to be the new consuls ? Who is to have the vacant au"ur- 
 ship ? Ah, says he, they might have caught even me with 
 that bait ; ^ — as he said on another occasion that he was so 
 much in debt as to be fit for a rebel ; and again, as I shall 
 have to explain just now, that he w^as like to be called in 
 question under the Cincian law because of a present of books ! 
 This was just at the point of his life when he was declining all 
 offers of public service, — of public service for which his soul 
 longed, — because they were made to him by Caijsar. It was 
 then that the " Vigintiviratus " was refused which Quintilliau 
 mentions to his honour. It was then that he refused to be 
 Caesar's lieutenant. It was then that he might have been 
 fourth with Cffisar, and Pompey, and Crassus, — had he not 
 felt himself bound not to serve against the Eepublic. And 
 yet the biographer does not hesitate to load him with infamy 
 
 ^ Ad Att. lib. ii. 5, " Quo quidem uno ego ab istis capi possum."
 
 8 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 because of a playful word in a letter half jocose and half 
 pathetic to his friend. If a man's deeds be always honest, 
 surely he should not be accused of dishonesty on the strength 
 of some light word spoken in the confidence of familiar in- 
 tercourse. The light words are taken to be grave because 
 they meet the modern critic's eye clothed in the majesty of 
 a dead language ; and thus it comes to pass that their very 
 meaning is misunderstood. 
 
 My friend Mr. Collins speaks in his charming little volume 
 on Cicero, of " quiet evasions " of the Cincian law,^ and tells 
 us that we are taught by Cicero's letters not to trust Cicero's 
 words when he was in a boasting vein. What has the one 
 thing to do with the other ? He names no quiet evasions. Mr. 
 Collins makes a surmise, by which the character of Cicero for 
 honesty is impugned — without evidence. The anonymous 
 biographer altogether misinterprets Cicero, Mr. Froude 
 charges Cicero with anticipation of murder, grounding his 
 charge on words which he has not taken the trouble to under- 
 stand. Cicero is accused on the strength of his own private 
 letters. It is because we have not the private letters of other 
 persons that they are not so accused. The courtesies of the 
 
 ^ The Cincian law, of whicli I shall have to speak again, forbade Roman 
 advocates to take any payment for their services. Cicero expressly declares 
 that he has always ol)eyed that law. He accused others of disobeying it, 
 as, for instance, Hortensius. But no contemporary has accused him. Mr. 
 Collins refers to some books which had been given to Cicero by his friend 
 IVutus. Tliey are jnentioncd in a letter to Atticus, lib. i. 20 ; and Cicero, 
 joking, says that lie has consulted Cincius, — perhaps some descendant of him 
 who made the law 145 years before, — as to the legality of accepting the 
 present. But wo have no reason for supposing that he had ever acted as an 
 advocate for IVetus.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 world exact, I will not say demand, certain deviations from 
 straightforward expression ; and these are made most often in 
 private conversations and in private correspondence. Cicero 
 complies with the ways of the world ; but his epistles are no 
 longer private, and he is therefore subjected to charges of 
 falsehood. It is because Cicero's letters, written altogether 
 for privacy, have been found worthy to be made public that 
 such accusations have been made. When the injustice of 
 these critics strikes me, I almost wish that Cicero's letters 
 had not been preserved. 
 
 As 1 have referred to the evidence of those who have, in 
 these latter days, spoken against Cicero, I will endeavour to 
 place before the reader the testimony of his character which 
 was given by writers, chiefly of his own nation, who dealt 
 with his name for tlie hundred and fifty years after his 
 death, from the time of Augustus down to that of Adrian, 
 a period much given to literature, in which the name of a 
 politician and a man of literature would assuredly be much 
 discussed. Eeaders will see in what language he was spoken 
 of by those who came after him. I trust they will believe 
 that if I knew of testimony on the other side, of records 
 adverse to the man, I would give them. The first passage, 
 to which I will allude does not bear Cicero's name ; and it 
 may be that I am wrong in assuming honour to Cicero from 
 a passage in poetry, itself so famous, in which no direct 
 allusion is made to himself. But the idea that Virgil in the 
 following lines refers to the manner in which Cicero soothed 
 the multitude who rose to destroy the theatre when the 
 knights took their front seats in accordance with Otho's law,
 
 10- LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 does not originate with me. I give the lines as translated 
 by Dryden, with the original in a note.^ 
 
 " As when in tumults rise the ignoble crowd, 
 Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud ; 
 And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, 
 And all the rustic arms that fury can supply ; 
 If then some grave and pious man appear, 
 They hush their noise, and lend a listening ear ; 
 He soothes with sober words their angry mood, 
 And quenches their innate desire of blood." 
 
 This, if it be not intended for a portrait of Cicero on that 
 occasion, exactly describes his position and his success. We 
 have a fragment of Cornelius Nepos, the biographer of the 
 Augustan age, declaring that at Cicero's death men had to 
 doubt whether literature or the Eepublic had lost the most.^ 
 Livy declared of him only, that he would be the best writer of 
 Latin prose who was most like to Cicero.^ Velleius Pater- 
 culus, who wrote in the time of Tiberius, speaks of Cicero's 
 achievements with the highest honour. " At this period," he 
 says, "lived Marcus Cicero, who owed everything to himself, 
 a man of altogether a new family, as distinguished for ability 
 as he was for the purity of his life."* Valerius Maximus 
 
 ^ Virgil, ^Enoid, i. IfiO— 
 
 " Ac, vcluti niagiio in populo (luuni sa'pc coorta est 
 Scditio, sievitque aiiiniis ignobilc. vulgus ; 
 JaiiKjue faces, et saxa volant; furor arma ministrat : 
 'ruin, pietato gravcm ac nieritis si forte viruni queni 
 (/Oiispcxere, silent, arrectisquo auribus adstant ; 
 Iste regit dictis aninios, et pectora mulcct." 
 - Thr autlior is saying that a history from Cicero would liave been invaluable, 
 and tlie words are " intcriUi ejus utiuni ics|iulilii;i an historia niagis doleat." 
 •' <^,>nin1illian blls us this, li]>. ii. c. .'). 'I'lu! passage of Livy is not extant, 
 'I'lif c'/innK litatDis .sn]ipii.sc it lo liavi' been taken from a letter to his son. 
 * N'cilrius I'aterculus, lib. ii. c. 34.
 
 IN TROD UCTION. 1 1 
 
 quotes him as an example of a forgiving character.^ Perliaps 
 the warmest praise ever given to him came from the pen of 
 Pliny the Elder, from whose address to the memory of Cicero 
 I will quote only a few words, as I shall refer to it more at 
 length when speaking of his consulship. " Hail thou, " says 
 Pliny, " who first among men was called the father of your 
 country." 2 Martial, in one of his distichs, tells the traveller 
 that if he have but a book of Cicero's writing he may fancy 
 that he is travelling with Cicero himself.^ Lucan, in his 
 bombastic verse, declares how Cicero dared to speak of peace 
 in the camp of Pharsalia. The reader may think that Cicero 
 should have said nothing of the kind, but Lucan mentions 
 him with all honour.'^ Not Tacitus, as I think, but some 
 author whose essay De Oratoribus was written about the time 
 of Tacitus, and whose work has come to us with the name 
 of Tacitus, has told us of Cicero that he was a master of 
 logic, of ethics, and of physical science.^ Everybody 
 remembers the passage in Juvenal, — 
 
 " Sed Roma parentem 
 Roma patrem patriie Ciceronera libera dixit." 
 
 " Eome, even when she was free, declared him to be the 
 
 ^ Valerius Maxinius, lib. iv. c. '2 ; 4, 
 
 '^ Pliny, Hist. Nat. lib. vii. xxxi. 30. 3 Martial, lib. xiv. 188. 
 
 * Lucan, lib. vii. 62 — 
 
 " Cunctorum voces Eomani maximus auctor 
 Tullius elo((uii, cujus sub jure togaque 
 Pacificas sa'vus tremuit Catilina secures, 
 Pertulit, iratus bellis, cum rostra forumque 
 Optaret passus tam longa silentia miles. 
 Addidit iuvalid;^ robur tacundia causos." 
 5 Tacitus, De Oratoribus, xxx.
 
 12 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 father of his country." ^ Even Plutarch, who generally 
 seems to have a touch of jealousy when speaking of Cicero, 
 declares that he verified the prediction of Plato ; " That 
 every State would be delivered from its calamities whenever 
 power should fortunately unite with wisdom and justice in 
 one person." ^ The praises of QuintilHan as to the man are 
 so mixed with the admiration of the critic for the hero of 
 letters, that I would have omitted to mention them here 
 were it not that they will help to declare what was the 
 general opinion as to Cicero at the time in which it was 
 written. He has been speaking of Demosthenes,'^ and then 
 goes on ; " Nor in regard to Cicero do I see that he ever 
 failed in the duty of a good citizen. There is in evidence of 
 this, the splendour of his consulship, the rare integrity of his 
 provincial administration, his refusal of office under Csesar,"* 
 the firmness of his mind on the civil wars, giving way neither 
 to hope nor fear, though these sorrows came heavily on 
 him in liis old age. On all these occasions he did the 
 best he could for the Republic." Florus, who wrote after 
 the twelve Caesars, in the time of Trajan and of Adrian, 
 whose rapid summary of Ptoman events can hardly be called 
 a history, tells us, in a few words, how Catiline's conspiracy 
 was crushed l)y the autliority of Cicero and Cato in 
 opposition to that of Caesar.^ Then, when he has passed in a 
 
 I 
 
 ' .Juvenal, viii. 243. " Dciiiostliencs itiul Cicero compared, 
 
 •' Ouiiitilliaii, xii. 1. 
 
 ■• " IJciiiuliiittis vigintivir.atus." He refused a position of olficiul value 
 rendered vacant by the deatli of one Cosconius. See Letters to Atticus, 2, 19. 
 
 '' Florus, lil), iv. 1. In a letter from Essex to Foulke Oreville, the writing 
 of which has been altriliutcd to Bucon by Mr. Sjicddiiig, Florus is said simply
 
 INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 few sliort chapters over all the intervening history of the 
 Eoman empire, he relates, in pathetic words, the death of Cicero. 
 " It was the custom in Eome to put up on the rostra the 
 heads of those who had been slain. But now the city- 
 was not able to restrain its tears when the head of Cicero 
 was seen there upon the spot from which the citizens had so 
 often listened to his words." ^ Such is the testimony given 
 to this man by the writers who may be supposed to have 
 known most of him as having been nearest to his time. 
 They all wrote after him. Sallust, who was certainly his 
 enemy, wrote of him in his lifetime, but never wrote in his 
 dispraise. It is evident that public opinion forbade him to 
 do so. Sallust is never warm in Cicero's praise as were 
 those subsequent authors whose words I have quoted, and 
 has been made subject to reproach for envy, for having 
 passed too lightly over Cicero's doings and words in his 
 account of Catiline's conspiracy ; but what he did say was to 
 Cicero's credit. Men had heard of the danger, and therefore, 
 says Sallust,2 " They conceived the idea of entrusting the 
 consulship to Cicero. For before that the nobles were 
 envious, and thought that the consulship would be polluted 
 if it were conferred on a novus homo, however distinguished. 
 But when danger came envy and pride had to give way." 
 He afterwards declares that Cicero made a speech against 
 Catiline most brilliant, and at the same time useful to the 
 Eepublic. This was lukewarm praise ; but coming from 
 
 to have epitomised Livy (Life, vol. ii. p. 23. ) lu this, I think, that Bacon has 
 shorn him of liis honours. 
 
 ^ Floras, lib, iv. 6. - Sallust, Catilinaria, xxiii.
 
 14 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Sallust, who would have censured if he could, it is as 
 eloquent as any eulogy. There is extant a passage attri- 
 buted to Sallust, full of virulent abuse of Cicero, but no one 
 now imagines that Sallust wrote it. It is called the Decla- 
 mation of Sallust against Cicero, and bears intrinsic evidence 
 that it was written in after years. It suited some one to 
 forge pretended invectives between Sallust and Cicero, and 
 is chiefly noteworthy here because it gives to Dio Cassius 
 a foundation for the hardest of hard words he said against 
 the orator.^ 
 
 Dio Cassius was a Greek who wrote in the reign of Alex- 
 ander Severus, more than two centuries and a half after the 
 death of Cicero, and he no doubt sjDeaks evil enough of our 
 hero. What w^as the special cause of jealousy on his part 
 cannot probably be now known, but the nature of his hatred 
 may be gathered from the passage in the note, — which is so 
 foul-mouthed that it can be only inserted under the veil of 
 his own language.^ Among other absurdities Dio Cassius says 
 
 ' I will add the concluding p.'issage from the pseudo-declamation in order 
 that the read(!r may see the nature of the words which were put into 
 Sallust's mouth ; — 
 
 " Quos tyrannos appellabas, eorum nunc potentice fiives ; qui tibi ante 
 optumatcs videbantur, eosdcm nunc denientes ac furlosos vocas ; Vatinii 
 caussam agis, do Scxtio male existumas ; Bibulum pctulantissuTnis verbis 
 hedis, laudas Ciesarem ; queni maxume odisti, ei maxume olisequeris. Aliud 
 stans, aliud sedens, do republica seutis ; his malodicis, illos odisti ; levissume 
 traiisfuga, nequc in hac, iieque ilia parte lidem habis." Hence Uio Cassius de- 
 clared that Cicero had been called a turncoat. " Koi uvTd/xaKos uvo/JLd^eTO." 
 
 - Dio Cassius, lib. xlvi. 18 — 
 
 " 7rp?js ^1/ /fa) aiiT-fiv Tuiavras ivKTroAas ypa(j>c\s o'las hr yputpiieii afi'p (TK(iivr6\7\s 
 aOvpi'iyhwppos . . . icai TrpotrtT) ical ih (Tr/tfxa avTov 5iafia\Afiu iT:t)(^iip7)(Ti ruaavrrj 
 a(T(\ytia Koi d,Ka9apa(a ■aapd iravra rhv Piuf xp^f^^""^ uiirre yUTjSe roov crvyyefea- 
 TciToov uirfXiffOat, d.Wd r-lji' tc yvvoAiia Ttponywydnv icaL ttjv OvyaTtpa fiuix^vft^."
 
 INTRODUCTION. \:^ 
 
 of Cicero, that in his latter days he put away a gay young 
 wife, forty years younger than himself, in order that he 
 might enjoy, without disturbance, the company of another 
 lady who was nearly as much older than himself as his wife 
 was younger ! 
 
 Now I ask, having brought forward so strong a testimony, 
 not, I will say, as to the character of the man, but of the 
 estimation in which he was held by those who came shortly 
 after him in his own country ; having shown, as I profess 
 that I have shown, that his name was always treated with 
 singular dignity and respect not only by the lovers of the 
 old Republic but by the minions of the Empire ; having found 
 that no charge was ever made against him either for insin- 
 cerity or cowardice or dishonesty by those who dealt com- 
 monly with his name, am I not justified in saying that they 
 who have in later days accused him should have shown their 
 authority ? Their authority they have always found in his 
 own words. It is on his own evidence against himself that 
 they have depended ; — on his own evidence, or occasionally 
 on their own surmises. When we are told of his cowardice, 
 — because those human vacillations of his, humane as 
 well as human, have been laid bare to us as they came 
 quivering out of his bosom on to his fingers ! He is a coward 
 to the critics because they have written without giving them- 
 selves time to feel the true meaning of his own words. If 
 we had only known his acts and not his words, — how he 
 stood up against the judges at the trial of Verres, with what 
 courage he encountered the responsibility of his doings at 
 the time of Catiline, how he joined Pompey in Macedonia
 
 16 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 from" a sense of sheer duty, liow lie defied Antony when to 
 defy Antony was probable death, — then we should not call 
 him a coward ! It is out of his own mouth that he is con- 
 demned. Then surely his words should be understood ! 
 Queen Christina says of him, in one of her maxims, that 
 " Cicero was the only coward that was capable of great 
 actions." The Queen of Sweden, whose sentences are never 
 worth very much, has known her history well enough to have 
 learned that Cicero's acts were noble, but has not understood 
 the meaning of words sufficiently to extract from Cicero's 
 own expressions their true bearing. The bravest of us all 
 if he is in high place, lias to doubt much, before he can know 
 what true courage will demand of him ; and these doubts 
 the man of words will express, if there be given to him an 
 alter ego such as Cicero had in Atticus. 
 
 Tn reference to the biography of INIr. Forsyth I must 
 in justice both to him and to Cicero, quote one passage 
 from the work ; " Let those who like De Quincey,^ 
 Mommsen, and others, speak disparagingly of Cicero, and 
 are so lavish in praise of Cscsar, recollect that Caesar 
 never was troubled by a conscience." Here it is that 
 we find that advance almost to Christianity of which I 
 have Sf)oken, and that superiority of inward being which 
 makes Cicero the most fit to be loved of all the Romans. 
 
 ^ As it happens De Quincoy specially calls Cicero a man of conscience. 
 " Cicero is one of the very few I'af^an statesmen who can he described as a 
 thoroughly conscientious uiuii," he .s;iys. 'I'lic luirpdrt of his illogical essay 
 on (Jicero is no douht tliorou^^lily hostile to the man. It is chiefly worth 
 reading on account of the amusing virulence with whicli MiiUUcton^ the 
 biogi'aphcr, is attacked. 
 
 \
 
 IN TROD UCTION. 1 7 
 
 It is hard for a man, even in regard to his own private 
 purposes, to analyse the meaning of a conscience, if he put 
 out of question all belief in a future life. Why should a 
 man do right if it be not for a reward here or hereafter ? 
 Why should anything be right — or wrong ? The Stoics tried 
 to get over the difficulty by declaring that if a man could 
 conquer all his personal desires he would become, by doing 
 so, happy, and would therefore have achieved the only end 
 at which a man can rationally aim. The school had many 
 scholars, but probably never a believer. The normal Greek 
 or Eoman might be deterred by the law, which means 
 fear of punishment, or by the opinion of his neighbours, 
 W'hich means ignominy. He might recognise the fact, that 
 comfort would combine itself with innocence, or disease 
 and want with lust and greed. In this there was little 
 need of a conscience ; — liardly perhaps room for it. But 
 when ambition came, with all the opportunities that chance, 
 audacity, and intellect would give, — as it did to Sylla to 
 Caesar and to Augustus, — then there was nothing to restrain 
 the men. There was to such a man no right but his power^ 
 no wrong but opposition to it. His cruelty or his clemency 
 might be more or less as his conviction of the utility of 
 this or that other weapon for dominating men might be strong 
 with him. Or there might be some variation in the flowing 
 of the blood about his heart ^^•hich might make a massacre 
 of citizens a pleasing diversion or a painful process to him. 
 But there was no conscience. With the man of whom 
 we are about to speak conscience was strong. In his some- 
 times doubtful wanderings after political wisdom, — in those 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 mental mazes which have been called insincerity, — we shall 
 see him, if we look well into his doings, struggling to find 
 whether in searching for what was his duty he should go to 
 this side or tothat. Might he best hope a return to that state 
 of things which he thought good for his country by adhering 
 to Caesar or to Pompey ? We see the workings of his con- 
 science, and, as we remember that Scipio's dream of his, we 
 feel sure that he had, in truth within him, a recognition of a 
 future life. 
 
 In discussing the character of a man, there is no course 
 of error so fertile as the drawing of a hard and fast line. 
 AVe are attracted by salient points and seeing them clearly 
 we jump to conclusions, as though there were a lighthouse 
 on every point by wliich the nature of the coast would 
 certainly be show^n to us. And so it will, if we accept the 
 light only for so much of the shore as it illumines. But to 
 say that a man is insincere because he has vacillated in this 
 or the other difficulty, that he is a coward because he has 
 feared certain dangers, that he is dishonest because he has 
 swerved, that lie is a liar because an untrue word has been 
 traced to liim, is to suppose that you know all the coast 
 because one jutting headland has been defined to you. He 
 who so expresses himself on a man's character is eitlier 
 ignorant of human nature, — or is in searcli of stones with 
 which to pelt his enemy. "He has lied! He has lied!" 
 How often in our own j)olitical contests do we hear the cry 
 ■with a iioti! of tiiuiii]ib ! And if lie have, — how often has 
 he told till! ti'ulh ? And if he have, — how many are entitled 
 by I'urc innocence in that matter to throw a stone at him ?
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 And if he have — do we not know how lies will come to the 
 tongue of a man without thought of lying ? In his stoutest 
 efforts after the truth a man may so express himself that 
 when afterwards he is driven to compare his recent and his 
 former words, he shall hardly be able to say even to himself 
 that he has not lied. It is by the tenor of a man's whole 
 life that we must judge him, whether he be a liar or no. 
 
 To expect a man to be the same at sixty as he was at 
 thirty, is to suppose that the sun at noon shall be graced with 
 the colours which adorn its setting. And there are men whose 
 intellects are set on so fine a pivot that a variation in the 
 breeze of the moment, which coarser minds shall not feel, 
 will carry them round with a rapidity wdiich baffles the 
 common eye. Tlie man who saw his duty clearly on this 
 side in the morning shall, before the evening come, recognise 
 it on the other ; and then again, and again, and yet again the 
 vane shall go round. It may be that an instrument shall be 
 too fine for our daily uses. We do not want a clock to 
 strike the minutes, or a glass to tell the momentary changes 
 in the atmosphere. It may be found that for the work of 
 tlie world, the coarse work, — and no work is so coarse, 
 though none is so important, as that which falls com- 
 monly into the hands of statesmen, — instruments strong in 
 texture, and by reason of their rudeness not liable to sudden 
 impressions, may be the best. That it is which we mean when 
 we declare that a scrupulous man is impractical in politics. 
 But the same man may, at various periods of his life, and 
 on various days at the same period, be scrupulous and un- 
 scrupulous, impractical and practical, as the circumstances 
 
 c 2
 
 20 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of the occasion may affect liim. At one moment the rule 
 of simple honesty will prevail with him. " Fiat justitia, 
 rnat coelum." " Si fractus illabatur orbis Impavidum ferient 
 ruinte." At another he will see the necessity of a compromise 
 for the good of the many. He will tell himself that if the 
 best cannot be done, he must content himself with the 
 next best. He must shake hands with the imperfect, as the 
 best way of lifting himself up from a bad w^ay towards a 
 better. In obedience to his very conscience he will tem- 
 porise, and, finding no other way of achieving good, will 
 do even evil that good may come of it. " Eem si possis 
 recte ; si non, quocunque modo rem." In judging of such 
 a character as this a hard and fast line will certainly lead 
 us astray. In judging of Cicero such a hard and fast line 
 has too generally been used. He was a man singularly 
 sensitive to all influences. It must be admitted that he 
 was a vane, turning on a pivot finer than those on which 
 statesmen have generally been made to work. He had 
 none of the fixed purpose of Ceesar, or the unflinching 
 principle of Cato. They were men cased in brass, whose 
 feelings nothing could hurt. They suffered from none of 
 tliose inward flutterings of the heart, doubtful aspirations, 
 human longings, sharp sympathies, dreams of something 
 better tlian this world, fears of something worse, which make 
 Cicero so like a well-bred polished gentleman of the present 
 day. It is becnuse he was so little like a Eonian that he 
 is of all llio lionians tlu; most attractive. 
 
 Htill thci-e may be doubt whether with all the intricacies 
 of his character liis career was such as to justify a further
 
 INTRODUGTIOX. 21 
 
 biography at tliis distance of time. " What's Hecuba to 
 liim or he to Hecuba ? " asks Hamlet, when he finds himself 
 stirred by the passion thrown into the bare recital of an old 
 story by an itinerant player. What is Cicero to us of the 
 nineteenth century that we should care so much for him as to 
 read yet another book ? Nevertheless Hamlet was moved 
 because the tale was well told. There is matter in the 
 earnestness, the pleasantness, the patriotism, and the tragedy 
 of the man's life to move a reader still, — if the story could 
 only be written of him as it is felt ! The difficulty lies in 
 that and not in the nature of the story. 
 
 The period of Cicero's life was the very turning-point of 
 civilisation and government in the history of the world. At 
 that period of time the world, as we know it, was Rome. 
 Greece had sunk. The Macedonian Empire had been de- 
 stro}'ed. The kingdoms of the East whether conquered, — or 
 even when conquering as was Parthia for a whUe, — were 
 barbaric, outside the circle of cultivation, and to be brought 
 into it only by the arms and influence of Eome. During 
 Cyesar's career Gaul was conquered ; and Britain, with what 
 was known of Germany, supposed to be partly conquered. 
 The subjugation of Africa and Spain was all but completed. 
 Letters too had been, or were being, introduced, Cicero's 
 use of language was so perfect that it seems to us to have 
 been almost necessarily the result of a long established art 
 of Latin literature. But in truth he is the earliest of the 
 prose writers of his country with whose works we are 
 familiar. Excepting Yarro, who was born but ten years 
 before him, no earlier Latin prose writer has left more than
 
 22 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 a name to us ; and the one work by whicli Varro is at all 
 known, the De Ee Eustica, was written after Cicero's death. 
 Lucretius, whose language we regard as almost archaic, so 
 unlike is it to that of A^irgil or Horace, was born eight 
 years after Cicero. In a great degree Cicero formed the 
 Latin language, — or produced that manipulation of it which 
 has made it so graceful in prose, and so powerful a vehicle 
 of thought. That which he took from any Latin writer he 
 took from Terence. 
 
 And it was then, just then, that there arose in Eome that 
 unpremeditated change in its form of government which 
 resulted in the self-assumed dictatorship of Caesar, and the 
 usurpation of the Empire by Augustus. The old Eome had 
 had kings. Then the name and the power became odious ; — 
 the name to all the citizens no doubt, but the power simply 
 to the nobility who grudged the supremacy of one man. The 
 kings were abolished, and an oligarchy was established under 
 the name of a Eepublic, with its annual magistrates, — at 
 first its two Consuls, then its Praetors and others, and occa- 
 sionally a Dictator as some current event demanded a con- 
 centration of temporary power in a single hand for a certain 
 purpose. The Eepublic was no Eepublic as we understand 
 the word. Nor did it ever become so, tliough there was 
 always going on a perpetual struggle to transfer the power 
 from the nobles to the people in which something was 
 always being giv<?n or pretended to be given to the outside 
 class, lint so little was as yet understood of liberty that 
 as each phibcian made his way up into high place and became 
 one of the magistrates ol' the Slate, he became also one of
 
 INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 the oligarchical faction. There was a continued contest, with 
 a certain amount of good faith on each side, on behalf of the 
 so-called Eepublic, — but still a contest for power. This 
 became so continued that a foreign war was at times regarded 
 as a blessing because it concentrated the energies of the State, 
 which had been split and used by the two sections — by each 
 against the other. It is probably the case that the invasion of 
 the Gauls in earlier days, and, later on, the second Punic war, 
 threatening as they were in their incidents to the power of 
 Eome, provided the Eepublic with that vitality which kept it 
 so long in existence. Then came Marius dominant on one 
 side as a tribune of the people, and Sylla as aristocrat on tlie 
 other, and the civil wars between them in which, as one pre- 
 vailed or the other, Eome was massacred. How Marius died, 
 and Sylla reigned for three bloody fatal years, is outside the 
 scope of our purpose, — except in this that Cicero saw Sylla's 
 proscriptions and made his first essay into public life hot 
 with auger at the Dictator's tyranny. 
 
 It occurs to us as we read the history of Eome, beginning 
 with the early Consuls and going to the death of Caesar and 
 of Cicero and the accomplished despotism of Augustus, 
 that the Eepublic could not have been saved by any efforts, 
 and was in truth not worth the saving. We are apt to think, 
 judging from our own idea of liberty, that there was so 
 much of tyranny, so little of real freedom in the Eoman form 
 of government, that it was not good enough to deserve our 
 sympathies. But it had been successful. It had made a 
 great people and had produced a wide-spread civilisation. 
 Eoman citizenship was to those outside the one thing the
 
 24 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 most worthy to be obtained. That career which led the 
 great Eomans up from the state of Quaestor, to the ^diles, 
 Praetor's, and Consul's chair, and thence to the rich reward 
 of provincial government, was held to be the highest then 
 open to the ambition of man. The Kings of Greece, and of 
 the East, and of Africa were supposed to be inferior in their 
 very rank to a Eoman Proconsul, and this greatness was 
 carried on with a semblance of liberty, and was compatible 
 with a belief in the majesty of the Eoman citizen. When 
 Cicero began his work. Consuls, Prsetors, ^diles and Quaes- 
 tors, were still chosen by the votes of the citizens. There 
 was bribery, no doubt, and intimidation, and a resort to those 
 dirty arts of canvassing with which we English have been 
 so familiar; but in Cicero's time the male free inhabitants 
 of Eome did generally carry the candidates to whom 
 they attached themselves. The salt of their republican 
 theory was not as yet altogether washed out from their 
 practice. 
 
 The love of absolute Liberty as it has been cultivated 
 among modern races did not exist in the time of Cicero. 
 The idea never seems to have reached even his bosom, human 
 and humanitarian as were his sympathies, that a man, as 
 man, should 1)0 free. Half the inhabitants of Eome were 
 slaves, and the institution was so grafted in the life of the 
 time that it never occurred to a Eoman, that slaves as a body, 
 should be manumitted. The slaves themselves, though they 
 were not, as have been the slaves whom we have seen, of a 
 different colour iiml picsuuicd iiifcrim" race, do not themselves 
 seem to have entertained any such idea. They were instigated
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 now and again to servile wars, but there was no rising in 
 quest of freedom generally. Nor was it repugnant to the 
 Itoman theory of liberty that the people whom they domi- 
 nated, though not subjected to slavery, should still be outside 
 the pale of civil freedom. That boon was to be reserved for 
 the Eoman citizen, and for him only. It had become common 
 to admit to citizenship, the inhabitants of other towns and 
 further territories. The glory was kept not altogether for 
 Eome, — but for Eomans. 
 
 Thus, though the government was oligarchical, and the very 
 essence of freedom ignored, there was a something which 
 stood in the name of Liberty, and could endear itself to a real 
 patriot. With genuine patriotism Cicero loved his country, 
 and beginning his public life as he did at the close of Sylla's 
 tyranny, he was able to entertain a dream that the old state 
 of things might be restored and the republican form of 
 government maintained. There should still be two Consuls 
 in Eome whose annual election would guard the State against 
 regal dominion'. And there should, at the same time, be such 
 a coctinuance of power in the hands of the better class, — the 
 " optimates " as he called them, — as would preserve the city 
 from democracy and revolution. No man ever trusted more 
 entirely to popular opinion than Cicero, or was more anxious 
 for aristocratic authority. But neither in one direction nor 
 the other did he look for personal aggrandisement, — beyond 
 that which might come to him in accordance with the law 
 and in subjection to the old form of government. 
 
 It is because he was in truth patriotic, because his dreams 
 of a Bepublic were noble dreams, because he was intent on
 
 26 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 doing good in public affairs, because he was anxious for trie 
 honour of Eome and of Eomans, not because he was or was 
 not a " real power in the State," that his memory is still worth 
 recording. Added to this was the intellect and the wit and 
 erudition of the man which were at any rate supreme. 
 And then though we can now see that his efforts were 
 doomed to failure by the nature of the circumstances surround- 
 ing him, he w^as so nearly successful, so often on the verge of 
 success, that we are exalted by the romance of his story into 
 the region of personal sympathy. As we are moved by the 
 aspirations and sufferings of a hero in a tragedy, so are we 
 stirred by the efforts, the fortune, and at last the fall of this 
 man. There is a picturesqueness about the life of Cicero 
 which is wanting in the stories of Marius or Sylla, of 
 Porapey or even of Caesar, — a picturesqueness which is 
 produced in great part by these very doubtings which have 
 been counted against him as insincerity. 
 
 His hands were clean when the hands of all around him 
 were defded by greed. How infinitely Cicero must have 
 risen above his time when he could have clean hands ! A 
 man in our days will keep himself clean from leprosy 
 because to be a leper is to be despised by those around him. 
 Advancing wisdom has taught us that such leprosy is bad, 
 and public opinion coerces us. There is something too, we 
 must suppose, in the lessons of Christianity. Or it may be 
 tliut the man (jf our day, with all these advantages does not 
 keep liiiusclf clean, — that so many go astray tliat public 
 opinion sliall almost seem to trcmbh; in the Indance. Even 
 wit!) us this and that abomiualioii becomes allowable because
 
 introduction: 27 
 
 so many do it. Witli the Eomans, in the time of Cicero, 
 greed, feeding itself on nsuiy, rapine and dishonesty, was so 
 fully the recognised condition of life tliat its indulgence 
 entailed no disgrace. But Cicero, with eyes within him 
 which saw further than the eyes of other men, perceived 
 the baseness of the stain. It has been said also of him 
 that he was not altogether free from reproach. It has been 
 suggested that he accepted payment for his services as an 
 advocate, any such payment being illegal. The accusation 
 is founded on the knowledge that other advocates allowed 
 themselves to be paid and on the belief that Cicero could not 
 have lived as he did without an income from that source. 
 And then there is a story told of him that though he did 
 much at a certain period of his life to repress the usury, — 
 and to excite at the same time the enmity of a powerful 
 friend, — he might have done more. As we go on the stories 
 of these things will be told; but the very nature of the 
 allegations against him prove how high he soared in honesty 
 above the manners of his day. In discussing the character 
 of the men, little is thought of the robberies of Sylla, the 
 borrowings of C?esar, the money-lending of Brutus, or the 
 accumulated wealth of Crassus. To plunder a province, to 
 drive usury to the verge of personal slavery, to accept bribes 
 for perjured judgment, to take illegal fees for services sup- 
 posed to be gratuitous, was so much the custom of the noble 
 Eomans that we hardly hate his dishonest greed when dis- 
 played in its ordinary course. But because Cicero's honesty 
 was abnormal, we are first surprised, and then, suspecting 
 little deviations, rise up in wrath against him, because in tlie
 
 28 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 midst of Eoman profligacy he was not altogether a puritan 
 in his money matters. 
 
 Cicero is known to us in three great capacities, — as a 
 statesman, an advocate, and a man of letters. As the 
 combination of such pursuits is common in our own days, 
 so also was it in his. Csesar added them all to the great 
 work of his life as a soldier. But it was given to Cicero, to 
 take a part in all those political struggles, from the resigna- 
 tion of Sylla to the first rising of the young Octavius, which 
 were made on behalf of the Republic and were ended b}^ 
 its downfall. His political life contains the story of the 
 conversion of Eome from republican to imperial rule ; and 
 Eome was then the world. Could there have been no 
 Augustus, no ISTero, — and then no Trajan, all Europe would 
 have been different. Cicero's efforts were put forth to 
 prevent the coming of an Augustus or a Xero, or the 
 need of a Trajan ; and as we read of them we feel that 
 luid success been possible he would have succeeded. 
 
 As an advocate he was unsurpassed. From him came the 
 leeling, — whether it be right or wrong, — that a lawyer, in 
 pleadiijg for his client, should give to tliat client's cause not 
 only all liis learning and all his wit, but also all liis sym- 
 pathy. To me it is marvellous, and interesting rather than 
 beautiful, to see how completely Cicero can put off his own 
 identity and assume another's, in any cause, whatever it be, 
 of whicli he has taken the charge. It nmst however be borne 
 ill uiiml that in ohl IN^me tlic distinction between speeches 
 7iiade in political and in civil or criniinal cases was not 
 (■i|ually well marlo-d as with us, and also tliat the reader
 
 introduction: 29 
 
 having the speeches which have come down to us whether of 
 one nature or the other, presented to him in the same volume, 
 is apt to confuse the public and that which may perhaps be 
 called the private work of the man. In the speeches best 
 known to us Cicero was working as a public man for public 
 objects, and the ardour, I may say the fury, of his energy in 
 the cause which he was advocating was due to his public 
 aspirations. The orations which have come to us in three 
 sets, some of them published only but never spoken, — those 
 against Verres, against Catiline, and the Philippics against 
 Antony, — were all of this nature, though the first concerned 
 the conduct of a criminal charge against one individual. 
 Of these I will speak in their turn ; but I mention them 
 here in order that I may, if possible, induce the reader to 
 begin his inquiry into Cicero's character as an advocate with 
 a just conception of the objects of the man. He wished, no 
 doubt, to shine as does the barrister of to-day ; he wished to 
 rise ; he wished if you will to make his fortune, — not by the 
 taking of fees but by extending himself into higher influence 
 by the authority of his name. No doubt he undertook this 
 and the other case without reference to the truth or honesty 
 of the cause, and when he did so, used all his energy for the 
 bad, as he did for the good cause. There seems to be special 
 accusation made against him on this head, as though the very 
 fact that he undertook his work without pay, threw upon him 
 the additional obligation of undertaking no cause that was 
 not in itself upright. With us the advocate does this, 
 notoriously for his fee. Cicero did it, as notoriously, in 
 furtherance of some political object of the moment or in
 
 30 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 maintenance of a friendship which was politically important. 
 I say nothing against the modern practice. This would not 
 be the place for such an argument. Nor do I say that, by 
 rules of aljsolute right and wrong, Cicero was right. But he 
 was as right at any rate as the modern barrister. And in 
 reaching the high-minded conditions under which he worked, 
 he had only the light of his own genius to guide him. When 
 we compare the clothing of the savage race with our own, 
 their beads and woad and straw and fibres with our own 
 petticoats and pantaloons, we acknowledge the progress of 
 civilisation and the growth of machinery. It is not a 
 wonderful thing to us, that an African Prince should not be 
 as perfectly dressed as a young man in Piccadilly. But when 
 we make a comparison of morals between our own time and 
 a period before Christ, we seem to forget that more should be 
 expected from us, than from those who lived two thousand 
 years ago. 
 
 There are some of those pleadings, speeches made by 
 Cicero on behalf of or against an accused party, from which 
 we may learn more of Poman life than from any other source 
 left to us. Much we may gather from Terence, much from 
 Horace, something from Juvenal. There is hardly indeed a 
 Latin author from which an attentive reader may not pick up 
 some detail of Poman customs. Cicero's letters are them- 
 selves veiy ])rolific. But the pretty things of the poets 
 ai'(; not (juitc i'acts, nor are the bitter things of the satirist; 
 iiiid llionuli a man's letters to his friend may be true, such 
 letters as come to us a\ ill have been the products of the 
 greater minds and will have come from a sniall and special
 
 INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 class. I fear that the Newgate Calendar of the da}^ would 
 tell us more of the ways of living then prevailing, than the 
 letters of Lady Mary W. Montagu or of Horace Walpole. 
 From the orations against Verres we learn how the people of 
 a province lived under the tyranny inflicted upon them, and 
 from those spoken in defence of Sextus Amerinus, and Aulus 
 Cluentius we gather something of the horrors of Eoman 
 life, — not in Eome indeed, Lut within the limits of lioman 
 citizenship. 
 
 It is however as a man of letters that Cicero will be held 
 in the highest esteem. It has been his good fortune to have 
 a great part of what he wrote preserved for future ages. His 
 works have not perished as have those of his contemporaries 
 Yarro and Hortensius. But this has been due to two causes 
 which were independent of Fortune. He himself believed 
 in their value and took measures for their protection, and 
 those who lived in his own time, and in the immediately 
 succeeding ages entertained the same belief and took the 
 same care. Livy said that to write Latin well, the writer 
 should write it like Cicero, and Quintillian, the first of Latin 
 critics, repeated to us what Livy had asserted.^ There is a 
 sweetness of language about Cicero which runs into the very 
 sound; so that passages, read aright, would by their very 
 cadences, charm the ear of listeners ignorant of the language. 
 Eulogy never was so happy as his. Eulogy however is 
 tasteless in comparison with invective. Cicero's abuse is 
 awful. Let the reader curious in such matters turn to the 
 
 ^ Quintillian, Lib. ii. c. 5.
 
 32 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 diatribes against Vatiniiis, one of Ceesar's creatures, and to 
 that against the unfortunate Proconsul Piso, — or to his 
 attacks on Gabinius, who was Consul together with Piso 
 in the year of Cicero's banishment. There are wonderful 
 morsels in the Philippics dealing with Antony's private 
 character; but the words which he uses against Gabinius 
 and Piso beat all that I know elsewhere in the science 
 of invective. Junius could not approach him; and even 
 Macaulay, though he has, in certain passages, been very 
 bitter, has not allowed himself the latitude which Eomau 
 taste and Eoman manners permitted to Cicero. 
 
 It may, however, be said that the need of biographical 
 memoirs as to a man of letters is by no means in proportion 
 to the excellence of the work that he has achieved. Alex- 
 ander is known but little to us, because we know so little of 
 the details of his life. Caesar is much to us, because we 
 have in truth been made acquainted with him. But Shake- 
 speare, of whose absolute doings we know almost nothing, 
 would not be nearer or dearer, had he even had a Boswell to 
 paint Ids daily portrait. The man of letters is, in truth, ever 
 writing his own biography. What there is in his mind, is 
 being declared to the world at large by himself. And if he 
 can so write that the world at large shall care to read what is 
 written, no other memoir will perhaps be necessary. For 
 niy.self T have never regretted those details of Shakespeare's 
 life wliicli a Boswell of the time might have given us. But 
 Cicero's personality as a man of letters seems especially to 
 rcfpiire elucidation. His letters lose their chief charm if the 
 character of the man be not known, and the incidents of his
 
 INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 life. His essays on rlietoric, — tlie written lessons which he 
 has left on the art of oratory, — are a running commentary on 
 his own career as an orator. Most of his speeches require for 
 their understanding a knowledge of the circumstances of his 
 life. The treatises which we know as his Philosophy, — works 
 which have been most wrongly represented by being grouped 
 under that name, — can only be read with advantage by the 
 light of his own experience. There are two separate classes 
 of his so-called Philosophy, in describing which the word 
 Philosophy, if it be used at all, — must be made to bear two 
 different senses. He handles in one set of treatises, not, I 
 think, wdth his happiest efforts, the teaching of the old Greek 
 schools. Such are the Tusculan Disquisitions, the Academics, 
 and the De Fiuibus. From reading these, without reference 
 to the idiosyncrasies of the writer, the student would be led 
 to believe that Cicero himself was a philosopher after that 
 sort. But he was, in truth, the last of men to lend his ears 
 
 " To those budge doctors of the stoic fur." 
 
 Cicero was a man thoroughly human in all his strength and 
 all his w'eakness. To sit apart from tlie world and be happy 
 amidst scorn poverty and obscurity, with a mess of cabbage 
 and a crust, absolutely contented with abstract virtue, — has 
 probably been given to no man. But of none has it been less 
 within the reach than of Cicero. To him ginger was always 
 hot in the mouth, whether it was the spice of politics, or of 
 social delight, or of intellectual enterprise. When in his 
 deep sorrow at the death of his daughter, when for a time the 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 34 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Eepublic was dead to him, and public and private life were 
 equally black, — he craved employment. Then he took down 
 his Greek manuscripts and amused himself as best he might 
 by writing this way or that. It was a matter on which his 
 intellect could work and his energies be employed, though 
 the theory of his life was in no way concerned in it. Such 
 was one class of his philosophy. The other consisted of a 
 code of morals, which he created for himself by his own 
 convictions formed on the world around him, and which 
 displayed itself in essays, such as those " De Officiis," — on the 
 duties of life, " De Senectute," " De Amicitia," — on old age 
 and friendship, — and the like, which were not only intended 
 for use, but are of use, to any man or woman who will study 
 them up to this day. There are others, treatises on law and 
 on government and religion, which have all been lumped to- 
 gether, for the misguidance of schoolboys, under the name of 
 Cicero's philosophy. But they, be they of one class or the 
 other, require an understanding of the man's character before 
 they can be enjoyed. 
 
 For these reasons I think that there are incidents in the 
 life, the character, and the work of Cicero, which ought to 
 make his biography interesting. His story is fraught with 
 energy, with success, with pathos, and with tragedy. And 
 then it is the story of a man human as men are now. No 
 child of Iiome ever better loved his country, but no child of 
 Rome was ever so little like a Tioman. Arms and battles 
 were to liini .'iboniinablo, — as iliey are to us. But arms and 
 battles weio tlie dcliiiht of Bomans. He was ridiculed in his
 
 INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 own time, and has been ridiculed ever since, for the allite- 
 rating twang of the line in which he declared his feeling ; 
 
 "Cedant anna togaj ; couccdat laurea lingiias." 
 
 But the thing said was thoroughly good, — and the better, 
 because the opinion was addressed to men among whom the 
 glory of arms was still in ascendant over the achievements of 
 intellectual enterprise. The greatest men have been those 
 who have stepped out from the mass, and gone beyond their 
 time, — seeing things, with eyesight almost divine, which have 
 hitherto been hidden from the crowd. Such was Columbus 
 when he made his way across the Western Ocean ; such were 
 Galileo, and Bacon; such was Pythagoras, if the ideas we 
 have of him be at all true. Such also was Cicero. It is not 
 given to the age in which such men live, to know them. 
 Could their age even recognise them, they would not over- 
 step their age, as they do. Looking back at him now we 
 can see how like a Christian was the man, — so like, that in 
 essentials, we can hardly see the difference. He could love 
 another as himself, — as nearly as a man may do; and he 
 taught such love as a doctrine.^ He believed in the existence 
 of one supreme God.^ He believed that man would rise 
 again and live for ever in some heaven.^ I am conscious 
 
 ^ De Finibus, lib. v. ca. xxii. " Nemo est igitur, t[ui iion bane affectionem 
 animi probet atque laudet." 
 
 ^ De Rep. lib. vi. ca. vii. "Nihil est euim illi principi deo, qui omnem 
 hunc mundura regit, quod quidera in terris fiat acceptius." Tusc. Quest, 
 lib. i. ca. XXX. Vetat enim dominans ille in nobis deus. 
 
 3 De Rep. lib. vi. ca. vii., " Certum esse in coelo delinituni locum, ubi beati 
 sevo sempitemo fmantur." 
 
 D 2
 
 36 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 that I cannot much promote this view of Cicero's character 
 by quoting isolated passages from his works, — words which 
 taken alone may be interpreted in one sense or another, and 
 wliicli should be read, each with its context, before their due 
 meaning can be understood. But I may perhaps succeed in 
 explaining to a reader what it is that I hope to do in the 
 following pages, and why it is that I undertake a work which 
 must be laborious, and for which many will think that there 
 is no remaining need. 
 
 I would not have it thought that, because I have so 
 spoken of Cicero's aspirations and convictions, I intend 
 to put him forth as a faultless personage in history. He was 
 much too human to be perfect. Those who love the cold 
 attitude of indifference may sing of Cato as perfect. Cicero 
 was ambitious, and often unscrupulous in his ambition. He 
 was a loving busband and a loving father ; but at the end of 
 his life he could quarrel with his old wife irrecoverably, 
 and could idolize his daughter, while he ruined his son by 
 indulgence. He was very great W'hile he spoke of his country, 
 which he did so often ; but he was almost as little, when he 
 spoke of himself — which lie did as often. In money matters 
 he was honest, — for tlie times in which he lived wonderfully 
 honest. But in words he was not always equally trustworthy. 
 He could flatter where he did not love. I admit that it was 
 so, though I will not admit without a protest that the word, 
 insincere, should be applied to him as describing his character 
 generally. He was so much more sincere than others, that 
 the protest is needed. If a man stand but five feet eleven 
 inches in his shoes, shall he In; called a pigmy ? And
 
 INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 yet to declare that he measures full six feet would he 
 uutrue, 
 
 Cicero was a busyhody. Were there anything to do, he 
 wished to do it, let it be what it might. " Cedant arma 
 togse." If anything was written on his heart it was that. 
 Yet he loved the idea of leading an army and panted for a 
 military triumph. Letters and literary life were dear to him, 
 and yet he liked to think that he could live on equal terms 
 with the young bloods of Eome, such as Coelius. As far as I 
 can judge he cared nothing for luxurious eating and drinking, 
 and yet he wished to be reckoned among the gourmands and 
 gourmets of his times. He was so little like the "budge 
 doctors of the stoic fur," of whom it was his delight to write 
 when he had nothing else to do, that he could not bear any 
 touch of adversity with equanimity. The stoic requires to 
 be hardened against "the stings and arrows of outrageous 
 fortune." It is his profession to be indifferent to the " whips 
 and scorns of time." No man was less hardened, or more 
 subject to suffering from scorns and whips. There be those 
 who think proneness to such suffering is unmanly, or that the 
 sufferer should at any rate hide his agony. Cicero did not. 
 Whether of his glory or of his shame, whether of his joy or 
 of his sorrow, whether of his love or of his hatred, whether of 
 his hopes or of his despair, he spoke openly, — as he did of 
 all things. It has not been the way of heroes, — as we read 
 of them ; but it is the way with men as we live with them 
 
 What a man he would have been for London life ! How 
 he would have enjoyed his club, picking up the news of the 
 day from all lips, while he seemed to give it to all ears.
 
 38 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 How popular he would have been at the Carlton, and how 
 men would have listened to him while every great or little 
 crisis was discussed ! How supreme he would have sat on 
 the Treasury bench, — or how unanswerable, how fatal, how 
 joyous when attacking the Government from the opposite 
 seats ! How crowded would have been his rack with invi- 
 tations to dinner ! How delighted would have been the 
 middle-aged Countesses of the time to hold with him mild 
 intellectual flirtations, — and the girls of the period, how 
 proud to get his autograph, how much prouder to have 
 touched the lips of the great orator with theirs ! How the 
 pages of the magazines would have run over with little 
 essays from his pen ! " Have you seen our Cicero's paper on 
 
 agriculture ? That lucky fellow, Editor , got him to do 
 
 it last month ! " " Of course you have read Cicero's article 
 on the soul. The Bishops don't know which way to turn," 
 " So the political article in the Quarterly is Cicero's." " Of 
 course, you know the art-criticism in the Times this year is 
 TuUy's doing!" But that would probably be a bounce. 
 And then what letters he would write! "With the penny 
 post instead of travelling messengers at his command, and 
 pen instead of wax and sticks, or perhaps with an instru- 
 ment-writer and a private secretary, he would have answered 
 all questions and solved all difliculties. He would have so 
 abounded with intellectual fertility, that men would not have 
 known whether most to admire his powers of expression or to 
 depreciate his want of rciii^eiice. 
 
 There will necessarily be nuu;h to be said of Cicero's 
 writings in the follcnving pages, as it is my object to
 
 INTRODUCTION. 39 
 
 delineate the literary man as well as the politician. In doing 
 this, there arises a difficulty as to the sequence in which his 
 works should be taken. It will hardly suit the purpose 
 in view to speak of them all either chronologically, or 
 separately as to their subjects. The speeches and the letters 
 clearly require the former treatment as applying each to the 
 very moment of time at which they were either spoken or 
 written. His treatises whether on rhetoric, or on the Greek 
 philosophy, or on government, or on morals can best be taken 
 apart as belonging in a very small degree, if at all, to the 
 period in which they were written. I will therefore en- 
 deavour to introduce the orations and letters as the periods 
 may suit, and to treat of his essays afterwards by themselves, 
 A few words I must say as to the Eoman names I have 
 used in my narrative. There is a difficulty in this respect 
 because the practice of my boyhood has partially changed 
 itself. Pompey used to be Pompey without a blush. Now 
 with an erudite English writer he is generally Pompeius. 
 The denizens of Africa, — the "nigger" world, — have had, I 
 think, something to do with this. But with no erudite 
 English writer is Terence Terentius, or Virgil Virgilius, or 
 Horace Horatius. Were I to speak of Livius, the erudite 
 English listener would think that I alluded to an old author 
 long prior to our dear historian. And though we now talk of 
 Sulla instead of Sylla, we hardly venture on Autonius instead 
 of Antony, Considering all this, I have thought it better to 
 cling to the sounds, which have ever been familiar to myself; 
 and as I talk of Virgil and of Horace and Ovid freely and 
 without fear, so shall I speak also of Pompey and of Antony
 
 40 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 and of Catiline. In regard to Sulla, the change has been so 
 complete, that I must allow the old name to have re-estab- 
 lished itseK altogether. 
 
 It has been customary to notify the division of years in 
 the period of which I am about to write by dating from two 
 different eras, — counting down from the building of Eome, 
 — A, U. C. or " anno urbis conditae," and back from the birth 
 of Christ, which we English mark by the letters B. C. — before 
 Christ. In dealing with Cicero writers, both French and 
 English, have not uncommonly added a third mode of dating, 
 assigning his doings or sayings to the year of his age. There 
 is again a fourth mode, common among the Romans, of in- 
 dicating the special years by naming the Consuls, — or one of 
 them. " nata mecum consule Manlio," Horace says when 
 addressing his cask of wine. That was indeed the official 
 mode of indicating a date, and may probably be taken as 
 showing how strong the impression in the Roman mind was 
 of the succession of their Consuls. In the following pages I 
 will use generally the date B. C. which, though perhaps less 
 simple than the A. U. C, gives to the mind of the modern 
 reader a clearer idea of the juxtaposition of events. The 
 reader will surely know that Christ was born in the reign 
 of Augustus, and crucified in that of Tiberius ; but he will 
 not perhaps know, without the trouble of some calculation, 
 how far removed from the period of Christ was the year 648, 
 A. U. C, in wliich Cicero was born. To this, I will add on 
 the n)argin, tin; yc.ir (if Cicero's life. He was nearly sixty- 
 four when lie died. \ sliall therefore call that year his sixty- 
 third year.
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 
 
 At Arpinum, on the river Liris, a little stream which has 
 been made to sound sweetly .in our ears by Horace,^ in a villa 
 residence near the town, Marcus Tullius Cicero was born — 
 106 years before Christ, on the 3rd of January, according to 
 the calendar then in use. Pompey the Great was born in the 
 same year. Arpinum was a state which had been admitted 
 into Eoman citizenship, lying between Ptome and Capua, just 
 within that portion of Italy which was till the other day 
 called the Kingdom of Naples, The district from which 
 he came is noted also as having given birth to Marius. 
 Cicero was of an equestrian family, which means as much 
 as though we were to say among ourselves that a man had 
 been born a gentleman and nothing more. An " eques " or 
 kniglit in Cicero's time became so, or might become so, by 
 being in possession of a certain income. The title conferred 
 no nobility. The plebeian, it will be understood, could not be- 
 come patrician, though he might become noble, — as Cicero did. 
 The patrician must have been born so, — must have sprung 
 
 ^ Hor, lib. i. ode xxii. — 
 
 *' Non rura qufe Liris quieta 
 Mordet aqua taciturnus amnis.
 
 42 . LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 from the purple of certain fixed families. ' Cicero was born a 
 plebeian, of equestrian rank/ and became ennobled when he 
 was ranked among the senators because of his service among 
 the high magistrates of the Republic. As none of his family 
 had served before him he was " novus homo," a new man, — 
 and therefore not noble till he had achieved nobility himself. 
 A man was noble wdio could reckon a Consul, a Praetor, or an 
 ^dile among his ancestors. Such was not the case with 
 Cicero. As he filled all these offices his son was noble, — 
 as were his son's sons and grandsons if such there were. 
 
 It was common to Romans to have three names, and our 
 Cicero had three. Marcus, which was similar in its use to 
 the Christian name of one of us, had been that of his 
 grandfather, and father, and was handed on to his son. 
 This, called the proenomen, was conferred on the child when 
 a baby with a ceremony not unlike that of our baptism. 
 There was but a limited choice of such names among the 
 Eomans, so that an initial letter will generally declare to 
 those accustomed to the literature that intended. A. stands 
 for Aulus, P. for Publius ; M. generally for Marcus, C. for 
 Caius, though there was a Cneus also. The nomen, Tullius, 
 was that of the family. Of this family of Tullius to which 
 Cicero belonged wo know no details, Plutarch tells us that 
 of liis fatliiir nothing was said but in extremes, some de- 
 claring tliat he had been a fuller, and others that he had 
 
 ^ Hiicli wa.4 tliH prcsuiind comlilion nl' 11iinL,'s at I'oiiui. By tlio passing of 
 a api^ciiil law a j)l((l)ci;ni iiii;<lit, and occaKioiialiy did, biicoine patrician. The 
 ])atriciaiis liad so nearly died out in Iho time of Julius Ca?sar that he intro- 
 duced lifty new familii'S liy the Le.\ Cassia.
 
 HIS E DUG AT 10 K 43 
 
 been descended from a Prince who had governed the Volsci. 
 We do not see why he may not have sprung from the Prince 
 and also have been a fuller. There can, however, be no doubt 
 that he was a gentleman, not uneducated himself, with 
 means and the desire to give his children the best education 
 which Eome or Greece afforded. The third name or cog- 
 nomen, that of Cicero, belonged to a branch of the family 
 of Tullius. This third name had generally its origin, as 
 do so many of our surnames, in some speciality of place 
 or trade, or chance circumstance. It was said that an 
 ancestor had been called Cicero from " cicer," a vetch, because 
 his nose was marked with the figure of that vegetable. It is 
 more probable that the family prospered by the growing and 
 sale of vetches. Be that as it may, the name had been well 
 established before the orator's time, Cicero's mother was one 
 Helvia, of wliom we are told that she was well born and rich. 
 Cicero himself never alludes to her; — as neither if I re- 
 member rightly, did Horace to his mother, though he speaks 
 so frequently of his father. Helvia's younger son, Qaintus, 
 tells a story of his mother in a letter, which has been, by 
 chance, preserved among those written by our Cicero. She 
 was in the habit of sealing up the empty wine-jars, as well as 
 those which were full, so that a jar emptied on the sly by a 
 guzzling slave might be at once known. This is told in a 
 letter to Tiro, a favourite slave belonging to Marcus, of whom 
 we shall hear often in the course of our work. As the old 
 lady sealed up the jars, though they contained no wine, so 
 must Tiro write letters, though he has nothing to say in 
 them. This kind of argument, taken from the old familiar
 
 44 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 stories of one's cliildhood and one's parents, could be only 
 used to a dear and familiar friend. Such was Tiro, though 
 still a slave, to the two brothers. Eoraan life admitted of 
 such friendships, though the slave was so completely the 
 creature of the master, that his life and death were at the 
 master's disposal. This is nearly all that is known of Cicero's 
 father and mother or of his old home. 
 
 There is, however, sufficient evidence that the father paid 
 great attention to the education of his sons, — if, in the case of 
 Marcus, any evidence were wanting where the result is so 
 manifest by the w^ork of his life. At a very early age, 
 probably when he was eight, — in the year which produced 
 Julius Csesar, — he was sent to Kome, and there was devoted 
 to studies which from the first were intended to fit him for 
 public life. Middleton says that the father lived in Eome 
 with his son, and argues from this that he was a man of 
 large means. But Cicero gives no authority for this. It is 
 more probable that he lived at the house of one Aculeo who 
 had married his mother's sister, and had sons with whom 
 Cicero was educated. Stories are told of his precocious 
 talents and performances such as we are accustomed to 
 hear of many remarkable men, — not unfrequently from their 
 own moutlis. It is said of him that he was intimate with 
 the two great advocates of the time Lucius Crassus and 
 Marcus Antonius the orator, the grandfather of Cicero's 
 future enemy whom wo know ;is Marc Antony. Cicero 
 speaks of tliciii botli as Ihoui^h ]ni had seen them, and talked 
 much of them in his youth. He tells us anecdotes of them,^ 
 1 Do Oiiit. lib. ii. ca. t.
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 45 
 
 how they were both accustomed to conceal their Knowledge 
 of Greek, fancying that the people in whose eyes they were 
 anxious to shine would think more of them if they seemed 
 to have contented themselves simply with Eoman words and 
 Eoman thoughts. But the intimacy was probably that 
 which a lad now is apt to feel that he has enjoyed with 
 a great man, if he has seen and heard him, and perhaps 
 been taken by the hand. He himself gives in very plain 
 language, an account of his own studies when he was 
 seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen. He speaks of the 
 orators of that day.'^ "When I was above all things 
 anxious to listen to these men, the banishment of Gotta 
 was a great sorrow to me. I was passionately intent on hear- 
 ing those who were left, daily writing, reading, and making 
 notes. Nor was I content only with practice in the art of 
 speaking. In the following year, Varius had to go, condemned 
 by his own enactment ; and at this time, in working at the 
 civil law, I gave much of my time to Quintus Sca^vola, the 
 son of Publius, who, though he took no pupils, by explaining 
 points to those who consulted him, gave great assistance to 
 students. The year after, when Sulla and Pompey were 
 Consuls, I learned what oratory really means by listening 
 to Publius Sulpicius who as tribune was daily making 
 harangues. It was then that Philo the Chief of the 
 Academy, with other leading philosophers of Athens, had 
 been put to flight by the w^ar with Mithridates, and had 
 come to Kome. To him I devoted myself entirely, stirred up 
 by a wonderful appetite for acquiring the Greek philosophy. 
 
 ^ Brutus, ca. Ixxxix.
 
 46 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 But in that, though the variety of the pursuit and its great- 
 ness charmed me altogether, yet it seemed to me that the 
 very essence of judicial conclusion was altogether suppressed. 
 In that year Sulpicius perished, and in the next, three 
 of our greatest orators, Quintus Catulus, Marcus Antonius, 
 and Caius Julius were cruelly killed." — This was the time of 
 the civil war between Marius and Sulla. " In the same year, 
 I took lessons from Molo the Ehodian, a great pleader and 
 master of the art." In the next chapter he tells us that he 
 passed his time also with Diodatus the Stoic, who afterwards 
 lived with him, and died in his house. Here we have an 
 authentic description of the manner in which Cicero passed 
 his time as a youth at Ecme, and one we can reduce probably 
 to absolute truth by lessening the superlatives. Nothing in 
 it, however, is more remarkable than the confession that 
 while his young intellect rejoiced in the subtle argu- 
 mentation of the Oreek philosophers, his clear common 
 sense quarrelled with their inability to reach any positive 
 conclusion. 
 
 But before these days of real study had come upon him, he 
 had given himself up to juvenile poetry. He is said to have 
 written a poem called Pontius Glaucus when he was fourteen 
 years old. This was no doubt a translation from the Greek, 
 as were most of the poems that he wrote and many portions 
 of his prose treatises.^ Plutarch tells us that the poem was 
 
 ^ It should be n-irumilKTcd that in li.itin lilcmtiiic^ it was the recognised 
 practice of initliors to hoi-row wliolcsiilc fVoni the Greek, and that no charge of 
 phigiariHiii iittiinlcd .siicli liormwing. Virgil in taking thoughts and language 
 I'roni iroiiicr wuh Hiiiijily Hniiposcd to have .sIkjwm his judgment in accoinmo-
 
 HIS education; 47 
 
 extant in his time and declares that, " in process of time when 
 he liad studied this art with greater application he was looked 
 upon as the best poet, as well as the greatest orator in Eome." 
 The English translators of Plutarch tell us that their author 
 was an indifferent judge of Latin poetry, and allege as proof 
 of this, that he praised Cicero as a poet, — a praise which he 
 gave " contrary to the opinion of Juvenal." But Juvenal has 
 given no opinion of Cicero's poetry, having simply quoted 
 one unfortunate line noted for its egotism, and declared that 
 Cicero would never have had his head cut off had his 
 Philippics been of the same nature.' The evidence of 
 Quintus Mucins Scffivola as to Cicero's poetry was perhaps 
 better, as he had the means, at any rate, of reading it. 
 He believed that the Marius, a poem written by Cicero in 
 praise of his great fellow-townsman would live to posterity 
 for ever. The story of the old man's prophecy comes to us, 
 no doubt, from Cicero himself, and is put into the mouth of 
 his brother,- but had it been untrue it would have been 
 contradicted. 
 
 The Glaucus was a translation from the Greek, done by a 
 
 dating Greek deliglits to Roman ears and Eoman intellects. The idea as to 
 literary larceny is of later date, and has gi-own up -WT-th personal claims for 
 orginality, and with copyright. Shakespeare did not acknowledge whence he 
 took his plots because it was unnecessary. Now if a writer borrow a tale from 
 the French it is held that he ought at least to owe the obligation, — or perhaps 
 even pay for it. 
 
 1 Juvenal, Sat. x. 122 — 
 
 " fortunatuni natam me Consule Romam ! 
 Antoni gladios potuit contemnere, si sic 
 Omnia dixisset." 
 * De Leg, lib. i. ca. 1.
 
 48 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 boy, probably as a boy's lesson. It is not uncommon that 
 such exercises should be treasured by parents, or perhaps by 
 the performer himself, and not impossible that they should be 
 made to reappear afterwards as original compositions. Lord 
 Brougham tells us in his autobiography that in his early 
 youth he tried his hand at writing English Essays and even 
 tales of fiction.' " I find one of these," he says, " has survived 
 the waste-paper basket, and it may amuse my readers to see 
 the sort of composition I was guilty of at the age of thirteen. 
 My tale was entitled ' jMemnon, or Human Wisdom ' and is 
 as follows ; " — Then we have a fair translation of Voltaire's 
 romance, " Memnon," or " La Sagesse Humaiue." The old 
 Lord, when he was collecting his papers for his autobiography 
 had altogether forgotten his A^oltaire, and thought that he had 
 composed the story ! Nothing so absurd as that is told 
 of Cicero by himself or on his behalf. 
 
 It may be as well to say here what there may be to be 
 said as to Cicero's poetry generally. But little of it remains 
 to us, and by that little it has been admitted that he has not 
 achieved the name of a great poet ; but what he did was too 
 great in extent, and too good in its nature to be passed over 
 altogether without notice. It has been his fate to be rather 
 ridiculed tlian read as a maker of verses, and that ridicule 
 has come from two lines which I have already quoted. 
 The longest piece which we have is from the Phsenomena 
 of Aratus, wliicli Ik; translated from tlic Greek when he was 
 
 1 liifc ;iii<l 'J'iiiicH of Jli'iiry Tvoid Binii;^'liaiii, wriKcii liy Liiiiself, vol. i. 
 p. 58.
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 49 
 
 eighteen years old, and which describes the heavenly bodies. 
 It is known to us best by the extracts from it given by the 
 author himself in his treatise De Natura Deorum. It nmst 
 be owned that it is not pleasant reading. But translated 
 poetry seldom is pleasant, and could hardly be made so on 
 such a subject by a boy of eighteen. The Marius was 
 written two years after this, and we have a passage from it 
 quoted by the author in his De Divinatione, containing some 
 line lines. It tells the story of the battle of the eagle and 
 the serpent, Cicero took it, no doubt, — not translated it how- 
 ever, — from the^passage in the Iliad, Lib. xii. 200, which has 
 been rendered by Pope with less than his usual fire, and by 
 Lord Derby with no peculiar charm. Virgil has reproduced 
 the picture with his own peculiar grace of words. His 
 version has been translated by Dryden, but better perhaps by 
 Christopher Pitt. Voltaire has translated Cicero's lines with 
 great power, and Shelley has reproduced the same idea at 
 much greater length in the first canto of the Eevolt of Islam, 
 taking it probably from Cicero, but, if not, from Voltaire.^ 
 I venture to think that, of the nine versions, Cicero's is the 
 best, and that it is the most melodious piece of Latin poetry 
 we have up to that date. Twenty-seven years afterwards, 
 when Lucretius was probably at work on his great poem, 
 Cicero wrote an account of his consulship in verse. Of this 
 we have fifty or sixty lines, in which tlie author describes 
 
 1 I give the nine versions to whicli I allude in an Appendix A., at the end 
 of this volume, so that those curious in such matters may compare the words 
 n which the same picture has been drawn by various hands. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the heavenly warnings which were given as to the affairs 
 of his own consular year. The story is not a happy one, but 
 the lines are harmonious. It is often worth our while to 
 inquire how poetry has become such as it is, and how the 
 altered and improved phases of versification have arisen. To 
 trace our melody from Chaucer to Tennyson is matter of 
 interest to us all. Of Cicero as a poet we may say that 
 he found Latin versification rough and left it smooth and 
 musical. Now, as we go on with the orator's life and prose 
 works, we need not return to his poetry. 
 
 The names of many masters have been given to us as 
 those under whom Cicero's education was carried on. Among 
 others he is supposed, at a very early age, to have been 
 confided to Archias. Archias was a Greek born at Antioch, 
 M'ho devoted himself to letters ; and if we are to believe 
 what Cicero says when speaking as an advocate, excelled 
 all his rivals of the day. Like many other educated Greeks 
 lie made his way to Eome, and was received as one of the 
 household of Lucullus, with whom he travelled, accompanying 
 him even to the wars. He became a citizen of Eome, — so 
 Cicero assures us, — and Cicero's tutor. What Cicero owfed 
 to him we do not know, but to Cicero Archias owed 
 immortality. His claim to citizensliip was disputed, and 
 Cicero, pleading on his behalf, made one of those shorter 
 speeches whicli are perfect in melody, in taste, and in 
 language. Tlieie is a passage in which, speaking on behalf 
 of so excellent a professor in the art, he sings the praises 
 of literature generally. I know no words written in 
 praise of Ijooks more persuasive or more valuable. "Other
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 51 
 
 recreations," he says, "do not belong to all seasons, nor to 
 all ages, nor to all places. These pursuits nourish our 
 youth and delight our old age. They adorn our prosperity, 
 and give a refuge and a solace to our troubles. They charm 
 us at home, and they are not in our way when we are abroad. 
 They go to bed with us. They travel about with us. They 
 accompany us as we escape into the country." ^ Archias 
 probably did something for him in directing his taste, and 
 has been rewarded thus richly. As to other lessons we know 
 that he was instructed in law by Scaivola, and he has told us 
 that he listened to Crassus and Antony. At sixteen he 
 went through the ceremony of putting off his boy's dress, 
 the toga prsetexta, and appearing in the toga virilis before 
 the Praetor, thus assuming his right to go about a man's 
 business. At sixteen the work of education was not finished, 
 — no more than it is with us when a lad at Oxford becomes 
 " of age " at twenty-one ; nor was he put beyond his father's 
 power, — the " patria potestas," from which no age availed to 
 liberate a son ; but nevertheless it was a very joyful ceremony, 
 and was duly performed by Cicero in the midst of his studies 
 with Scsevola. 
 
 At eighteen he joined the army. That doctrine of the 
 division of labour which now, with us, runs through and 
 dominates all pursuits, had not as yet been made plain to the 
 minds of men at Eome by the political economists of the 
 day. It was well that a man should know something of 
 many things, — that he should especially, if he intended to 
 
 ^ Pro Archia, ca. vii. 
 
 £ 2
 
 52 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 be a leader of men, — be both soldier and orator. To rise to 
 be Consul, having first been Quaestor, ^dile and Prsetor was 
 the path of glory. It had been the special duty of the 
 Consuls of Eome, since the establishment of consular govern- 
 ment, to lead the armies of the Eepublic, A portion of the 
 duty devolved upon the Praetors as wars became more 
 numerous; and latterly, the commanders v>^ere attended by 
 Quaestors. The Governors of the provinces, Pro-Consuls or 
 Pro-Praetors, with proconsular authority, always combined 
 military with civil authority. The art of war was therefore 
 a necessary part of the education of a man intended to rise in 
 the service of the State. Cicero, though, in his endeavour to 
 follow his own tastes he made a strong effort to keep himself 
 free from such work, and to remain at Eome instead of being 
 sent abroad as a Governor, had, at last, to go where fighting 
 was in some degree necessary, and, in the saddest phase of 
 his life, appeared in Italy with his lictors, demanding the 
 honours of a triumph. In anticipation of such a career, no 
 doubt under the advice of his friends, he now went out to 
 see, if not a battle, something at any rate of war. It has 
 already been said how the citizenship of Eome was conferred 
 on some of the small Italian states around, and not on others. 
 ] fence of course arose jealousy, which was increased by the 
 feeling on the part of those excluded that they were called to 
 furnish soldiers to Eome, as well as those who were included. 
 Then there was formed a combination of Italian cities sworn 
 to remedy the injury thus inflicted on them. Their purpose 
 was to fight Eome in order that they might achieve Eoman 
 citizensliip, and hence arose the first civil war which distracted
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 53 
 
 the empire. Pompeius Strabo, father of Pompey the Great, 
 was then Consul (B. C. 89), and Cicero was sent out to see 
 the campaign under him. Marius and Sulla, the two Romans 
 who were destined soon to bathe Rome in blood, had not yet 
 quarrelled, though they had been brought to hate each other, 
 Marius by jealousy, and Sulla by rivalry. In this war they 
 both served under the Consuls, and Cicero served with Sulla. 
 We know nothing of his doings in that campaign. There are 
 no tidings even of a misfortune such as that which happened 
 to Horace when he went out to fight, and came home from the 
 battle-field " relicta non bene parmula." 
 
 Rome trampled on the rebellious cities, and in the end 
 admitted them to citizenship. But probably the most im- 
 portant, certainly the most notorious result of the Italian 
 war, was the deep antagonism of Marius and Sulla. Sulla had 
 made himself conspicuous by his fortune on the occasion, 
 whereas Marius who had become the great soldier of the 
 Republic, and had been six times Consul, failed to gather 
 fresh laurels. Rome was falling into that state of anarchy 
 which was the cause of all the glory and all the disgrace of 
 Cicero's life, and was open to the dominion of any soldier 
 whose grasp might be the least scrupulous and the strongest, 
 Marius after a series of romantic adventures with which we 
 must not connect ourselves here, was triumphant, — only just 
 before his death, — while Sulla went off with liis army, pillaged 
 Athens, plundered Asia Minor generally, and made terms 
 with Mithridates though he did not conquer him. With the 
 purport, no doubt, of conquering Mithridates, but perhaps 
 with the stronger object of getting him out of Rome, — the
 
 54 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 army had been intrusted to Inm with the consent of the 
 Marian faction. 
 
 Then came those three years, when Sulla was in the East 
 and Marius dead, of which Cicero speaks as a period of peace 
 in which a student was able to study in Eome. " Trieunium 
 fere fuit urbs sine armis." ^ These must have been the years 
 86, 85 and 84 before Christ, when Cicero was twenty-one, 
 twenty-two and twenty-three years old, and it was this 
 period, in truth, of which he speaks, and not of earlier years, 
 when he tells us of his studies with Philo, and Molo, and 
 Diodatus. Precocious as he was in literature, writing one 
 poem, — or translatiug it, — when he was fourteen, and another 
 when he w^as eighteen, he was by no means in a hurry to 
 commence tlie work of his life. He is said also to have 
 written a treatise on military tactics when he was nineteen, 
 whicli again, no doubt, means that he had exercised himself 
 by translating such an essay from the Greek. This happily 
 does not remain. But we have four books " Ehetoricorum 
 ad C. Herennium," and two books " De Inventione," attri- 
 buted to his twentieth and twenty-first year, which are 
 published with his works and commence tlie series. Of all 
 that we liave from him, they are perhaps the least worth 
 reading, but as they are, or were, among his recognised 
 writings a word shall be said of them in their proper place. 
 
 The success of the education of Cicero probably became a 
 (•f)i]mi()ii]iiac(; among Latin schtiolmasters and Latin writers. 
 In llic dialogue. Dc Oratoribus attributed to Tacit:us the story 
 
 ' Brutus, cii. xc.
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 55 
 
 of it is given by Messala, when he is praising tlie orators of 
 the earlier age. " We know well," says Messala, " that book of 
 Cicero which is called Brutus in the latter part of which he 
 describes to us the beginning and the progress of his own 
 eloquence, and as it were, the bringing up on which it was 
 founded. He tells us that he had learned civil law under Q. 
 Mutius Scffivola; that he had exhausted the realm" of philo- 
 sophy, learning that of the Academy under Philo and that 
 of the Stoics under Diodatus ; that not content with these 
 treatises, he had travelled through Greece and Asia, so as to 
 embrace the whole world of art. And thus it had come about 
 that in the works of Cicero no knowledge is wanting, neither 
 of music, nor of grammar, nor any other liberal accomplish- 
 ment. He understood the subtilty of logic, the purpose of 
 ethics, the effects and causes of things." Then the speaker 
 goes on to explain what may be expected from study such as 
 that. " Thus it is, my good friends, — thus, that from the 
 acquirement of many arts and from a general knowledge of 
 all things, eloquence that is truly admirable is created in 
 its full force ; for the power and capacity of an orator need 
 not be hemmed in, as are those other callings, by certain 
 narrow bounds ; — but that man is the true orator who is able 
 to speak on all subjects, with dignity and grace, so as to 
 persuade those who listen and to delight them, in a manner 
 suited to the nature of the subject in hand and the con- 
 venience of the time." ^ 
 
 We might fancy that we were reading words from Cicero 
 
 ' Tacitus, De Oratoiibus, xxx.
 
 56 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 himself! Then the speaker in this imaginary conversation 
 goes on to tell us how far matters had derogated in his time, 
 — pointing out at the same time, that the evils which he 
 deplores had shown themselves even before Cicero, but had 
 been put down, as far as the law could put them down by its 
 interference. He is speaking of those schools of rhetoric, in 
 which Greek professors of the art gave lessons for money, 
 which were evil in their nature, and not, as it appears, 
 efficacious even for the purpose in hand. " But now," 
 continues Messala, "our very boys are brought into the 
 schools of those lecturers who are called 'rhetores/ who 
 had sprung up before Cicero,-^to the displeasure of our 
 ancestors, as is evident from the fact that when Crassus and 
 Domitius were Censors they were ordered to shut up their 
 school of impudence, as Cicero calls it. Our boys as I was 
 going to say, are taken to these lecture rooms in which it is 
 hard to say whether the atmosphere of the place, or the lads 
 they are thrown among, or the nature of the lessons taught, 
 are the most injurious. In the place itself, there is neither 
 discipline nor respect. All who go there are equally ignorant. 
 The boys among the boys, the lads among the lads, utter and 
 listen to just what words they please. Tlieir very exercises 
 are for the most part useless. Two kinds are in vogue with 
 these 'rlietores,' called 'suasoriaj' and ' controversia3,"' — 
 tending, we may perhaps say to persuade or to refute. " Of 
 these the ' suo.soriai ' as being the lighter, and re(piiring less 
 of experience, are given to the little boys, — the ' controversioe ' 
 to the bigger lads. ]>ut, — oh heavens, what they are, what 
 niisei-able compositions ! " Then he tells us the subjects
 
 HIS EDUCATIOX. 57 
 
 selected. Rape, incest and other horrors are subjected to 
 the lads for their declamation in order that they may learn to 
 be orators. 
 
 Messala then explains that in those latter days, — his days 
 that is, — imder the rule of despotic princes, truly large sub- 
 jects are not allowed to be discussed in public, confessing 
 however that those large subjects, though they afford fine 
 opportunities to orators, are not beneficial to the State at 
 large. But it was thus he says, that Cicero became what he 
 was, who would not have grown into favour, had he defended 
 only P. Quintius and Archias and had had nothing to do 
 with Catiline, or Milo, or Verres, or Antony, — showing by the 
 way, how great was the reputation of that speech. Pro Miloue, 
 with which we shall have to deal further on. 
 
 The treatise becomes somewhat confused, a portion of it 
 having probably been lost. From whose mouth the last 
 words are supposed to come is not apparent. It ends with 
 a rhapsody in favour of imperial government, suitable indeed 
 to the time of Domitian, but very unlike Tacitus. While 
 however it praises despotism, it declares that only by the 
 evils which despotism had quelled could eloquence be main- 
 tained. " Our country, indeed, while it was astray in its 
 government, while it tore itself to pieces by parties and 
 quarrels and discord, while there was no peace in the Porum, 
 no agreement in the Senate, no moderation on the judgment 
 seat, no reverence for letters, no control among the magistrates, 
 boasted, no doubt, a stronger eloquence." 
 
 From what we are thus told of Cicero, not what we hear 
 from himself, we are able to form an idea of the nature of his
 
 58 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 education. With his mind fixed from his early days on the 
 ambition of doing something noble with himself he gave 
 himself up to all kinds of learning. It was Macaulay, I 
 think, who said of him that the idea of conquering the 
 " omne scibile," — the understanding of all things within the 
 reach of human intellect, — was before his eyes as it was 
 before those of Bacon, The special preparation which was 
 in Cicero's time employed for students at the bar is also 
 described in the treatise from which I have quoted, — the 
 preparation which is supposed to have been the very opposite 
 of that afforded by the " rhetores." " Among ourselves the 
 youth who was intended to achieve eloquence in the Forum 
 when already trained at home and exercised in classical 
 knowledge, was brought by his father or his friends to that 
 orator who might then be considered to be the leading man 
 in the city. It became his daily work to follow that man, to 
 accompany him, to be conversant with all his speeches whether 
 in the courts of law, or at public meetings, — so that he might 
 learn, if I might say so, to fight in the very thick of the 
 throng." It was thus tliat Cicero studied his art. A few 
 lines further down tlie pseudo-Tacitus tells us that Crassus 
 in his nineteenth year held a brief against Carbo, that Caesar 
 did so in his twenty-first against Dolabella, and Pollio, in his 
 twenty-second year against Cato/ In this precocity Cicero 
 
 ' QuiiitilliMii, lil). xii. c. vi., who wrote al)out the same time as this Essayist, 
 tells us of those three instances of early oratory, not however spocdfying the 
 exact ivfii', in eitlior case. lie also reminds us that Demosthenes pleaded when 
 he was a hoj% and that Auffustus at the age of twelve made a puljlic harangue 
 in honour of his grandmother.
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 59 
 
 did not imitate Crassiis, or show au example to the Eomans 
 who followed him. He was twenty-six when he pleaded his 
 first cause. Sulla had then succeeded in crushing the Marian 
 faction, and the SuUan proscriptions had taken place and 
 were nominally over. Sulla had been declared Dictator, 
 and had proclaimed that there should be no more selections 
 ■ for death. The Eepublic was supposed to be restored. 
 " Recuperata republica * * * * turn prinium nos ad causas 
 et privatas et publicas adire coepimus." ^ *' The Eepublic 
 having been restored, I then first applied myself to pleadings, 
 both private and public." 
 
 Of Cicero's politics at that time we are enabled to form a 
 fair judgment. Marius had been his townsman. Sulla had 
 been his captain. But the one thing dear to him was the 
 Eepublic, — what he thought to be the Eepublic. He was 
 neither Marian nor Sullan. The turbulence in which so much 
 noble blood had flowed, the " Crudelis interitus oratorum," the 
 crushing out of the old legalized form of government was 
 abominable to him. It was his hope, no doubt his expec- 
 tation, that these old forms should be restored in all their 
 power. There seemed to be more probability of this, — there 
 was more probability of it, — on the side of Sulla than the 
 other. On Sulla's side was Pompey, the then rising man, who 
 being of the same age with Cicero, had already pushed himself 
 into prominence, who was siirnamed the Great, and who 
 " triumphed " during these very two years in which Cicero 
 began his career, — wdio through Cicero's whole life was his 
 
 1 Brutus, ca. xc.
 
 60 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 bugbear, his stumbling-block, and his mistake. But on that 
 side were the " optimates," the men wlio, if they did not lead, 
 ought to lead the Kepublic, those who, if they were not 
 respectable ought to be so, those who, if they did not love 
 their country, ought to love it. If there was a hope, it was 
 with them. The old state of things, — that oligarchy which 
 has been called a Republic, — had made Eome what it was, 
 had produced power, civilization, art and literature. It had 
 enabled such a one as Cicero was himself to aspire to lead, 
 though he had been humbly born, and had come to Eome 
 from an untried provincial family. To him the Eepublic, — as 
 he fancied that it had been, as he fancied that it might be, — 
 was all that was good, all that was gracious, all that was 
 beneficent. On Sulla's side lay what chance there was 
 of returning to the old ways. When Sulla was declared 
 Dictator, it was presumed that the Eepublic was restored. 
 But not on this account should it be supposed tliat Cicero 
 regarded the proscriptions of Sulla with favour, or that he 
 was otherwise than shocked by the wholesale robberies for 
 which tlie proscription paved the way. This is a matter with 
 which it will be necessary to deal more fully, when we come 
 in our next chapter to the first speeches made by Cicero, in 
 the very first of which, as I place them, he attacks the SuUane 
 roljberies with an audacity which, when we remember that 
 Sulla was still in power, rescues, at any rate, in regard to this 
 period of liis life, the character of the orator from that charge 
 of cowardice wlii(;h has been im[)uted to him. 
 
 It is necessary here, in this chapter devoted to the edu- 
 cation of Cicero, to allude to his two first speeches, because
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 61 
 
 that education was not completed till afterwards, — so that 
 they may be regarded as experiments, or trials as it were of 
 his force and sufficiency. " Not content with these teachers," 
 — teachers who had come to Eome from Greece and Asia, — 
 " he had travelled through Greece and Asia, so as to embrace 
 the whole world of art," These words, quoted a few pages 
 back from the treatise attributed to Tacitus, refer to a passage, 
 in the Brutus, in which Cicero makes a statement to that 
 effect. " When I reached Athens,^ I passed six months with 
 Antiochus, by far the best known and most erudite of the 
 teachers of the Old Academy, and with him, as my great 
 authority and master I renewed that study of philosophy 
 which I had never abandoned, — which from my boyhood I 
 had followed with always increasing success. At the same 
 time I practised oratory laboriously wath Demetrius Syrus 
 also at Athens, a well known and by no means incapable 
 master of the art of spealdng. After that I wandered over all 
 Asia, and came across the best orators there, with whom I 
 practised, enjoying their willing assistance." There is more 
 of it which need not be repeated verbatim, giving the names 
 of those who aided him in Asia, Menippus of Stratonice — 
 who, he says was sweet enough to have belonged himself to 
 Athens, — with Dionysius of Magnesia, with (Eschilus of 
 Cnidos, and with Xenocles of Adramyttium. Then at 
 Rhodes he came across his old friend Molo, and applied him- 
 self again to the teaching of his former master. Quintillian 
 explains to us how this was done with a purpose, so that the 
 
 ^ Brutus, xci.
 
 62 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 young orator when be had made a first attempt with his 
 half-fledsjed win^s in the courts misrht to back to his masters 
 for a Avhile.^ 
 
 He was twenty-eight when he started on this tour. It has 
 been suggested that he did so in fear of the resentment of 
 Sulla, with whose favourites and with whose practices he had 
 dealt very plainly. There is no reason for alleging this, except 
 that Sulla was powerful, that Sulla was bloodthirsty, and that 
 Sulla must have been offended. The kind of argument is 
 often used. It is supposed to be natural, or at least probable, 
 tliat in a certain position, a man should have been a coward, 
 or a knave, ungrateful or cruel, — and in the presumiDtion 
 thus raised the accusation is brought against him. " Fearing 
 Sulla's resentment," Plutarch says, " he travelled into Greece 
 and gave out that the recovery of his health was the motive." 
 There is no evidence that such was his reason for travelling, 
 and, as Middleton says in his behalf, it is certain that he 
 " continued for a year after this in Eome without any 
 apprehension of danger." It is best to take a man's own 
 account of his own doings and their causes, unless there be 
 ground for doubting the statement made. It is thus that 
 Cicero himself speaks of his journey. " Now," he says, — still 
 ill liis r.rntus,^ " as you wish to know what I am, — not simply 
 what mark I may have on my body, from my birth, or with 
 
 • Quintillian, lib. xii. vi. " Qunm jam clarum meruisset inter patronos, 
 r|ui turn erant, noinen, in Asiam navigavit, seque et aliis sine dubio eloqiientite 
 ac Hapientifi! magistriH, hcmI jn-n'cipuf! taiiion AjMjllonio Moloiii, (luein Rom;? 
 (jiKxiue aiidiorat, Uliodi rur.sus forniaiidum ac velut recogneiidum dedit." 
 
 - UrutuH, xci.
 
 \ 
 
 HIS EDUCATION. 63 
 
 what surroundings of childhood I was brought up, — I will 
 include some details which might perhaps seem hardly 
 necessary. At this time I was thin and w^eak, — my neck 
 being long and narrow, — a habit and form of body which 
 is supposed to be adverse to long life. And those who loved 
 me thought the more of this, because I had taken to speaking 
 without relaxation, without recreation, with all the powers of 
 my voice, and with much muscular action. When my friends 
 and the doctors desired me to give up speaking, I resolved 
 that rather than abandon my career as an orator, 1 would 
 face any danger. But when it occurred to me that by lowering 
 my voice, by changing my method of speaking, I might avoid 
 the danger, and, at the same time, learn to speak with more 
 elegance, I accepted that as a reason for going into Asia, 
 so that I might study how to change my mode of elocution. 
 Thus when I had been two years at work upon causes, and 
 when my name was already well known in the Forum, I took 
 my departure and left Eome." 
 
 During the six months that he was at Athens he renewed 
 an early acquaintance with one who was destined to become 
 the most faithful, and certainly the best known of his friends. 
 This was Titus Pomponius, known to the world as that 
 Atticus to whom were addressed something more than half the 
 large body of letters which were written by Cicero, and which 
 have remained for our use.^ He seems to have lived much 
 with Atticus, who was occupied with similar studies though 
 
 1 The total correspoudence contains 817 letters, of which 52 were written 
 to Cicero, 396 were written by Cicero to Atticus, and 369 by Cicero to his 
 friends in general. We have no letters from Atticus to Cicero.
 
 64 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 with altogether different results. Atticus applied himself to 
 the practices of the Epicurean school and did in truth become 
 " Epicuri de grege porcus." To enjoy life, to amass a fortune, 
 to keep himself free from all turmoils of war or state, to make 
 the best of the times whether they were bad or good with- 
 out any attempt on his part to mend them, — this was the 
 philosophy of Titus Pomponius, who was called Atticus 
 because Athens, full of art and literature, easy, unenergetic 
 and luxurious, was dear to him. To this philosophy, or 
 rather, to this theory of life, Cicero was altogether opposed. 
 He studied in all the schools, among the Platonists, the 
 Stoics, even with the Epicureans enough to know their 
 dogmas so that he might criticise them, — proclaiming himself 
 to belong to the new academy or younger school of Platonists ; 
 but in truth drawing no system of morals or rule of life from 
 any of them. To him, and also to Atticus, no doubt, these 
 pursuits afforded an intellectual pastime. Atticus found 
 himself able to justify to himself the bent of his disposition 
 by the name of a philosopher, and therefore became an 
 Epicurean. Cicero could in no way justify to himself any 
 deviation from the energy of public life, from its utility, from 
 its ambition, from its loves or from its hatred, — and from the 
 Greek philosophers whom he named of this or the other 
 school, received only some assistance in that handling of 
 so-called pliilosophy which became the chief amusement of 
 his future life. This was well understood by the Latin 
 autliors wlio wnjtc of Cicero after his own time. Quintillian 
 speaking of Cicero and Ihutus as writers of philosophy says 
 of the latter, " iSuffecit ])r)ii(leii renun ; scias enim seutire quai
 
 HIS EDUCATION-. 65 
 
 dicit."^ "He was equal to the weight of the subject, for 
 you feel that he believes what he writes." He leaves tlie 
 inference of course that Cicero wrote on such matters 
 only for the exercise of his ingenuity, — as a school-boy 
 writes. 
 
 When at Athens Cicero was initiated into the Eleusinian 
 mysteries, as to which Mr. Collins in his little volume on 
 Cicero, in " The Ancient Classics for English Eeaders," 
 says that they "contained under this veil whatever faith 
 in the Invisible and Eternal rested in the mind of an 
 enlightened pagan." In this Mr. Collins is fully justified by 
 what Cicero himself has said, although the character thus 
 given to these mysteries is very different from that which 
 was attributed to them by early Christian writers. They 
 were to those pious but somewhat prejudiced theologists 
 mysterious and pagan, and therefore horrible.^ But Cicero 
 declares in his dialogue with Atticus " De Legibus," written 
 when he was fifty-five years old, in the prime of his intellect, 
 that " of all the glories and divine gifts which your Athens 
 has produced for the improvement of men, nothing surpasses 
 these mysteries by which the harshness of our uncivilized life 
 has been softened, and we have been lifted up to humanity ; 
 and as they are called 'initia,'" — by which aspirants were 
 initiated, — " so have we in truth found in them the seeds of 
 a new life. Nor have we received from them only the means 
 
 ^ (^)aintilian, lib. x. ca. 1. 
 
 - Clemens of Alexandria, in his exhortation to the GentilfS, is very severe 
 upon the iniquities of these rites. "All evil be to him," he says, "who 
 brought them into fashion, whether it was Dardanus, or Eetion the Thracian, 
 
 VOL. I. r
 
 66 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of living with satisfaction, but also of dying with a better 
 bope as to the future." ' 
 
 Of what took place with Cicero and Atticus at their 
 introduction to the Eleusinian mysteries we know nothing. 
 But it can hardly be that, with such memories running in his 
 mind after thirty years, expressed in such language to the 
 very friend who had then been his companion, they should 
 not have been accepted by him as indicating the commence- 
 ment of some great line of tliought. The two doctrines 
 which seem to mark most clearly the difference between 
 the men whom we regard, the one as a pagan and the other 
 as a Christian, are the belief in a future life and the duty of 
 doing well by our neighbours. Here they are both indicated, 
 the former in plain language and the latter in that assurance 
 of the softening of the barbarity of uncivilized life, — " quibus 
 ex agresti immanique vita exculti ad humanitatem et mitigati 
 sum us." 
 
 Of the inner life of Cicero at this moment, how he ate, how 
 he drank, with what accompaniment of slaves he lived, how 
 he was dressed and how lodged Ave know very little. But 
 we are told enouQ-h to be aware that he could not have 
 travelled and studied as he did in Greece and Asia, without 
 great expense. His brother Quintus was with him, so 
 that cost, if not double, was greatly increased. Antiochus, 
 Demetrius Syrus, Molo, Menippus and the others did not 
 
 or Mi.las the Phrygiiin." The old story which he repeats as to Ceres ami 
 ProHerpiiie may have been true, hut he was altogether ignorant of the changes 
 which the common sense of centuries had produced. 
 ' Du Lcgihus, lib. ii. (;. xiv.
 
 HIS education: 67 
 
 give him tlieir services for nothing. These were gentlemen 
 of whom we know that they were anxions to carry their 
 wares to the best market. And then he seems to have been 
 welcomed wherever he went, as though travelling in some 
 sort "ea prince." No doubt he had brought with him the 
 best introductions which Eome could afford ; but even with 
 them a generous allowance must have been necessary, and 
 this must have come from his father's pocket. 
 
 As we go on, a question will arise as to Cicero's income 
 and the sources whence it came. He asserts of himself that 
 he was never paid for his services at the bar. To receive 
 such payment was illegal, but was usual. He claims to have 
 kept himself exempt from whatever meanness there may have 
 been in so receiving such fees, — exempt at any rate from the 
 fault of having broken the law. He has not been believed. 
 There is no evidence to convict him of falsehood, but he has 
 not been believed because there have not been found palpable 
 sources of income sufficient for an expenditure so great as 
 that which we know to have been incident to the life he led. 
 But we do not know what were his father's means. Seeing 
 the nature of the education given to the lad, of the manner 
 in which his future life was prepared for him from his earliest 
 days, of the promise made to him from* his boyhood of a 
 career in the metropolis if he could make himself fit for it» 
 of the advantages which costly travel afforded him, I think 
 we have reason to suppose that the old Cicero was an opulent 
 man, and that the house at Arpinum was no humble farm, or 
 fuller's poor establishment. 
 
 F 2
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE CONDITION OF KOME. 
 
 It is far from my intention to write a history of Eome 
 during the Ciceronian period. Were I to attempt such a work, 
 I should have to include the doings of Sertorius in Spain, of 
 Lucullus and Pompey in the East, Csesar's ten years in Gaul, 
 and the civil wars from the taking of Marseilles to the final 
 battles of Thapsus and Munda. With very many of the great 
 events which the period includes Cicero took but slight 
 concern, — so slight that we can hardly fail to be astonished 
 when we find how little he had to say of them, he who ran 
 through all the offices of the State, who was the chosen 
 guardian of certain allied cities, who has left to us so large a 
 mass of correspondence on public subjects, and who was essen- 
 tially a public man for thirty-four years. But he was a public 
 iiiuu who concerned himself personally with Rome rather 
 tlian with the Eoman Empire. Home affairs and not foreign 
 affairs were dear to him. To Ca3sar's great deeds in Gaul, 
 we should have had from him almost no allusion, had not his 
 brother Quintus been among Cfcsar's officers and his young 
 i'rieiid Tr('bnliu.s Ixfcn coulidcd liy himself to Ca3sar's care. 
 Of I'harsalia we only h'aiii iV(tm him that in utter despair 
 (jf h(;iirt he allowed hiiu.self to 1)0 curried to the war. Of the
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 69 
 
 proconsular governments llirougliout the Eoman empire we 
 should not learn much from Cicero were it not that it has 
 been shown to us by the trial of Verres how atrocious miglit 
 be the conduct of a Eoman Governor, and by the narratives 
 of Cicero's own rule in Cilicia, how excellent. The history of 
 the time has been written for modern readers by Merivale 
 and Mommsen, with great research and truth as to facts, — 
 but, as I think, with some strong feeling. Now Mr. Froude 
 has followed with his " Caesar," — which might well have 
 been called Anti-Cicero. All these in lauding, and the two 
 latter in deifying the successful soldier, have I think dealt 
 hardly with Cicero, attributing to his utterances more than 
 they mean, doubting his sincerity, but seeing clearly the 
 failure of his political efforts. With the great facts of the 
 Eoman Empire as they gradually formed themselves from 
 the fall of Carthage when the Empire began^ to the establish- 
 ment of Augustus when it was consummated, I do not pretend 
 to deal, although by far the most momentous of them were 
 crowded into the life of Cicero. But in order that I may, if 
 possible, show the condition of his mind towards the Eepublic, 
 — that I may explain what it was that he hoped and why he 
 hoped it, — I must go back and relate in a few words what it 
 was that Marius and Sulla had done for Eome. 
 
 Of both these men all the doings with wdiich history is 
 greatly concerned were comprised within the early years of 
 Cicero's life. Marius indeed was nearly fifty years of age 
 
 ^ B.C. 144. It was then that the foreign empire commenced, in ruling 
 which the simplicity and truth of purpose and patriotism of the Republic 
 were lost.
 
 70 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 when his fellow townsiiiHii was born, and had become a 
 distinguished soldier, and though born of humble parents 
 had pushed himself to the Consulate. His quarrel with 
 Sulla had probably commenced, springing from jealousy 
 as to deeds done in the Jugurthine war. But it is not matter 
 of much moment now that Marius had proved himself to be 
 a good and hardy soldier, excepting in this, — that by making 
 himself a soldier in early life he enabled himself in his latter 
 years to become the master of Rome. 
 
 Sulla too was born thirty-two years before Cicero, — a 
 patrician of the bluest blood, — and having gone, as we say, 
 into public life, and having been elected Quaestor, became a 
 soldier by dint of office, — as a man with us may become head 
 of the Admiralty. As Quaestor he was sent to join Marius in 
 Africa, a few montlis before Cicero was born. Into his hands 
 as it liappened, not into those of Marius, Jugurtha was sur- 
 rendered by his father-in-law, Bocchus, who thought thus to 
 curry Javour with the Romans. Thence came those inter- 
 necine I'euds in which some twenty-five years later all Rome 
 was lying butchered. The cause of quarrelling between these 
 two men, the jealousies which grew in the heart of the elder 
 IVoin the renewed successes of the younger, are not much to 
 us now ; but the C(»ndition to which Rome had lK?en brought, 
 wh(;n two such men could scramble for the city and each cut 
 the throats of the relatives, friends and presumed allies of the 
 othei', has to be incpiired into by those who would understand 
 wliaL iluiiic, had Inum, what it was, and what it was necessarily 
 
 to l)rcoillO. 
 
 W'ln-ii ('iceio was of an age to l)egin to think of these
 
 THE CONDITION OF nOME. 71 
 
 tlnDgs, and had put on the " toga vh-ilis," and girt himself 
 with a sword to fight under the father of Pompey for the 
 power of Rome against the Italian allies who were demanding 
 citizenship, — the quarrel was in truth rising to its bitterness. 
 Marius and Sulla were on the same side in that war. But 
 Marius had then not only been Consul, but had been six times 
 Consul. And he had beaten the Teutons and the Cimbrians by 
 whom Eomans had feared that all Italy would be occupied. 
 What was not within the power of such a leader of soldiers ? 
 And what else but a leader of soldiers could prevail when 
 Italy and Rome, but for such a General, had been at the 
 mercy of barbaric hordes, and when they had been compelled 
 to make that General six times Consul ? 
 
 Marius seems to have been no politician. He became a 
 soldier and then a General, and because he was great as a 
 soldier and General, the affairs of the State fell into his hands 
 with very little effort. In the old days of Rome military 
 power had been needed for defence, and successful defence 
 had of course produced aggressive masterhood, and increased 
 territory. When Hannibal, while he was still lingering in 
 Italy, had been circumvented by the appearance of Scipio in 
 Africa, and the Romans had tasted the increased magnificence 
 of external conquest, the desire for foreign domination became 
 stronger than that of native rule. From that time arms were 
 in the ascendant rather than policy. Up to that time a Consul 
 had to become a General because it was his business to look 
 after the welfare of the State. After that time a man became 
 a Consul in order that he might be a General. The toga was 
 made to give way to the sword, and the noise of the Forum
 
 72 • LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 to the trumpets. We, looking back now, can see that it 
 must have been so, and Ave are prone to fancy that a wise 
 man looking forward then might have read the future. In 
 the days of ]\Iarius there was probably no man so wise. 
 Csesar Avas the first to see it. Cicero would have seen it 
 but that the idea was so odious to him, that he could not 
 acknowledge to himself that it need be so. His life was 
 one stru^crle acrainst the coming evil, — ag;ainst the time in 
 which brute force was to be made to dominate intellect and 
 civilization. His " cedant arma togse " was a scream, an 
 impotent scream, against all that Sulla had done or Caesar 
 was about to do. The mischief had been effected years before 
 his time, and had gone too far ahead to be arrested even by 
 his tongue. Only in considering these things let us confess 
 that Cicero saw what was good and what was evil, thougli 
 he was mistaken in believing that the good was still within 
 reach. 
 
 Marius in his way was a Cresar, — as a soldier undoubtedly 
 a very ef&cient Csesar, — having that great gift of ruling his 
 own appetites which enables those who possess it to conquer 
 the appetites of others. It may be doubted whether his 
 quickness in stopping and overcoming the two great hordes 
 from the north, the Teutons and the Cimbrians, was not equal 
 in strategy to anything that Ca3sar accomplished in Gaul. 
 It is probable that Ca;sar learned much of his tactics from 
 studying the manreuvres of Marius. But Marius was only a 
 General. Tliough he became liot in lloman politics, audacious 
 and confident, knowing liow to use and how to disregard 
 various weapons of political power as they hud been handed
 
 THE CONDITION OF B02IE. 73 
 
 down by tradition and law, the "vetoes" and the auguries, and 
 the official dignities, he used them, — or disregarded them, — in 
 quest only of power for himself. He was able to perceive how 
 vain was law in such a period as that in which he lived ; — 
 and that having risen by force of arms, he must by force of 
 arms keep his place or lose his life. With him, at least, there 
 was no idea of Eoman liberty, — little probably of Eoman glory 
 except so far as military glory and military power go together. 
 Sulla was a man endowed with a much keener insight into 
 the political condition of the world around him. To make a 
 dash for power, as a dog might do, and keep it in his clutch 
 as a dog would, was enough for INIarius. Sulla could see 
 something of future events. He could understand that by 
 reducing men around him to a low level he could make fast 
 his own power over them, — and that he could best do this by 
 cutting off the heads of all wdio stood a little higher than 
 their neighbours. He might thus produce tranquillity, and 
 security to himself, — and others. Some glimmer of an idea 
 of an Augustan rule was present to him, and with the view 
 of producing it he reestablished many of the usages of the 
 Eepublic, not reproducing the liberty but the forms of liberty. 
 It seems to have been his idea that a SuUan party might 
 rule the Empire by adherence to these forms. I doubt if 
 Marius had any fixed idea of government. To get the better 
 of his enemies and then to grind them into powder under his 
 feet, to seize rank and power and riches, and then to enjoy 
 them, to sate his lust with blood and money and women, at 
 last even with wine, and to feed his revenge by remembering 
 the hard things which he was made to endure during the
 
 74 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 period of liis overtlirow, — this seems to have been enough for 
 ]\Iarius.^ With Sulla there was understanding that the 
 Empire must he ruled, and that the old ways would be 
 best if they could be made compatible with the newly 
 concentrated power. 
 
 The immediate effect upon Eome either from one or from 
 the other, was nearly the same. In the year 87 B.C. Marius 
 occupied himself in slaughtering the Sullan jparty, — during 
 which however Sulla escaped from Eome to the army of 
 which he was selected as general and proceeded to Athens 
 and the East with the object of conquering Mithridates. 
 Eor, during these personal contests, the command of this 
 expedition had been the chief bone of contention among 
 them. Marius, who was by age unfitted, desired to obtain 
 it in order that Sulla might not have it. In the next year, 
 8G B.C., Marius died, being then Consul for the seventh 
 time. Sulla was away in the East, and did not return till 
 83 B.C. In the interval was that period of peace, fit for 
 study of which Cicero afterwards spoke. " Triennium fere 
 
 ^ The reverses of fortune to which Marius was subjected, how he was 
 buried up to liis neck in the mud hiding in the marshes of Minturnse, how he 
 would have been killed by the traitorous magistrates of that city but that he 
 •iuelled the executioners by the lire of his eyes ; how he sat and glowered, a 
 houseless exile, among the ruins of Carthage, — all which tilings happened 
 to liiin while he was running from the partisans of Sulla, — are among the 
 picturesf|ue episodes of history. There is a tragedy called the Wounds of 
 Civil War, written by Lodge, who was born some eight years before Shake- 
 speare, in which the story of Marius is told with some exquisite poetry, but 
 also with some ludicrous additions. The (!aul who is hired to kill Marius, 
 but is frightened by his eyes, talks bad French mingled with bad English, 
 and calls on Jesus in hi.s honor !
 
 THE COXDITION OF HOME. 75 
 
 fuit urbs sine arinis." ^ Cicero was then tweuty-twu or 
 twenty-three years old, and must well have understood from 
 his remembrance of the Marian massacres what it was to 
 have the city embroiled by arms. It was not tliat men were 
 fighting, but that they were simply being killed at the plea- 
 sure of the slaughterer. Then Sulla came back 83 B.C., 
 when Cicero was twenty-four, and if Marius had scourged 
 the city with rods he scourged it with scorpions. It was the 
 city in truth that was scourged, and not simply the hostile 
 faction. Sulla began by proscribing 520 citizens, declaring 
 that he had included in his list all that he remembered, and 
 that those forgotten should be added on another day. The 
 numbers were gradually raised to 4,700 ! Nor did this 
 merely mean that those named should be caught and killed, 
 by some miscalled oiUcers of justice.'' All the public was 
 armed against the wretched, and any who should protect 
 them were also doomed to death. This, however, might 
 have been comparatively inetficacious to inflict the amount 
 of punishment intended by Sulla, Men generally do not 
 specially desire to imbrue their hands in the blood of other 
 men. Unless strong hatred be at w^ork the ordinary man, 
 even the ordinary Eoman, will hardly rise up and slaugiiter 
 another for the sake of the employment. But if lucre be 
 added to blood, then blood can be made to flow copiously. 
 This was what Sulla did, Not only was the victim's life 
 proscribed, but his property was proscribed also. And the 
 
 ^ Brutus, ca. xc, 
 
 ^ Florus tells us that there were 2,000 senators and kniglits, but that any- 
 one was allowed to kill just whom he would. " Qnis autem illos potest coui- 
 putare quos in erhe passim (|nis(|nis volnit ncciilit, " lib. iii., ca. 21.
 
 76 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 man who busied himself in carrying out the great butcher's 
 business assiduously, ardently, and unintermittingly, was 
 rewarded by the property so obtained. Two talents ^ was 
 to be the fee for mere assassination ; but the man who kuew 
 how to carry on well the work of an informer could earn 
 many talents. It was thus that fortunes were made in the last 
 days of Sulla. It was not only those 520 who were named for 
 killing. They were but the firstlings of the flock, — the few 
 victims selected before the real workmen understood how 
 valuable a trade proscription and confiscation might be made. 
 Plutarch tells us how a quiet gentleman walking, as was his 
 custom, in the Forum, one who took no part in politics, saw 
 bis own name one day on the list. He had an Alban villa, 
 and at once knew that his villa had been his ruin. He had 
 hardly read the list and had made his exclamation before 
 he was slaughtered. Such was the massacre nf Sulla, coming 
 with an interval of two or three years after those of Marius, 
 between which was the blessed time in which Rome was 
 without arms. In the time of Marius Cicero was too young, 
 and of no sufficient importance on account of his birth or 
 parentage, to fear anything. Nor is it probal)le that Marius 
 W(Hild liave turned against his townsmen. Wlien Sulla's 
 turn came Cicero, though not absolutely connected with the 
 Dictator, was, so to say, on his side in politics. In going 
 back even to tliis period we may use the terms Liberals and 
 Conservatives for describing the two ])arties. Marius was 
 
 ' About 487Z. 10s. In Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Koman Antiquities 
 tlif! Attic talent is given as being worth 243Z. 155. Moramsen quotes the price 
 as 12,<i()0 fleiiarii, which wniild amount to about the same sum.
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 77 
 
 for the people, — tliat is to say, he was opposed to the rule 
 of the oligarchy, dispersed the senate, and loved to feel that 
 his own feet were on the necks of the nobility. Of liberty, 
 or rights, or popular institutions he recked nothing, — but 
 not the less was he supposed to be on the people's side. 
 Sulla, on the other hand, had been born a patrician, and 
 affected to preserve the old traditions of oligarchic rule. 
 And, indeed, though he took all the power of the State into 
 his own hands, he did restore and for a time preserve these 
 old traditions. It must be presumed that there was at his 
 heart something of love for old Eome. The proscriptions 
 began towards the end of the year 82 B.C., and were con- 
 tinued through eight or nine fearful months, up to the 
 beginning of June, 81 B.C. A day was fixed at which 
 there should be no more slaughtering, — no more slaughtering 
 that is, without special order in each case, and no more con- 
 fiscation, — except such as might be judged necessary by those 
 who had not as yet collected their prey from past victims. 
 Then Sulla as Dictator set himself to work to reorganise 
 the old laws. There should still be Consuls and Pmetors, 
 but with restricted powers, lessened almost down to 
 nothing. It seems hard to gather what was exactly the 
 Dictator's scheme as the future depositary of power when 
 he should himself have left the scene. He did increase the 
 privileges of the Senate, but thinking of the Senate of Eome 
 as he must have thought of it, esteeming those old men as 
 lowly as he must have esteemed them, he could hardly have 
 intended that imperial power should be maintained by 
 dividing it among them. He certainly contemplated no
 
 78 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 follower to himself, no heir to his power, as Caesar did. 
 When he had been practically Dictator about three years, — 
 though he did not continue the use of the objectionable name, 
 — he resigned his rule and walked down, as it were from his 
 throne, into private life. I know nothing in history more re- 
 markable than Sulla's resignation ; and yet the writers who 
 have dealt with his name give no explanation of it. Plutarch, 
 his biographer, expresses wonder that he should have been 
 willing to descend to private life, and that he who made so 
 many enemies should have been able to do so with security. 
 Cicero says nothing of it. He had probably left Eome 
 before it occurred, and did not return till after Sulla's death. 
 It seems to have been accepted as being in no especial way 
 remarkable.' At his own demand the plenary power of 
 Dictator had been given to him, — power to do all as he 
 liked without reference either to the Senate or to the people, 
 and with an added proviso that he should keep it as long as 
 he thought fit and lay it down when it pleased him. He did 
 lay it down, flattering himself probably that, as he had done 
 his work, he would walk out from his dictatorship like some 
 Camillus of old. There had been no dictator in Eome for 
 more tlian a century and a quarter, — not since the time of 
 Hannibal's great victories; and the old dictatorships lasted 
 but for a few months or weeks, after which the Dictator 
 having accomplished the special task, threw up his office. 
 
 ' Sucloiiiim H])0!il<s of liis ilcith. Floius incntious the prosrri])tions ami 
 alidication. VclloiiiH I'iitcrculus is eloquent in describing tlie horrors of the 
 inaHsacrcH and confi.sc'ation. Dio Cassius refers again and again to tlie Sullan 
 cruelty. I5ut none of tlioni give a reason for the abdication of .Sulla.
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 70 
 
 Sulla now affected to do the same ; and Home after the inter- 
 val of three years, accepted the resignation in the old spirit. 
 It was natural to them, though only hy tradition, that a 
 Dictator should resign, — so natural that it required no special 
 wonder. The salt of the Eoman Constitution was gone, but 
 the remembrance of the savour of it was still sweet to the 
 minds of the Eomans. 
 
 It seems certain that no attempt was made to injure Sulla 
 when he ceased to be nominally at the head of the army ; but 
 it is probable that he did not so completely divest himself of 
 power as to be without protection. In the year after his 
 abdication he died, at the age of sixty-one, apparently 
 strong as regards general health, but, — if Plutarch's story be 
 true, — affected with a terrible cutaneous disease. 
 
 Modern writers have spoken of Sulla as though they 
 would fain have praised him if they dared, because in spite 
 of his demoniac cruelty, he recognised the expedience of 
 bringing the affairs of the Eepublic again into order. Mid- 
 dleton calls him the "only man in history in whom the 
 odium of the most barbarous cruelties was extinguished by 
 the glory of his great acts." Mommsen, laying the blame 
 of the proscriptions on the head of the oligarchy, speaks of 
 Sulla as being either a sword or a pen in the service of the 
 State, as a sword or a pen would be required, and declares 
 that in regard to the total " absence of political selfishness, — 
 although it is true in this respect only, — Sulla deserves to 
 be named side by side with Washington."* To us at present 
 
 ^ Vol. iii. p. 386. I cpiote from Mr. Dickson's translation, asl do not read 
 Gtnnau.
 
 80 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 who are endeavouring to investigate tlie sources and the 
 nature of Cicero's character, the attributes of this man would 
 be but of little moment, were it not that Cicero was probably 
 Cicero because Sulla had been Sulla. Horrid as the pro- 
 scriptions and confiscations were to Cicero, — and his opinion 
 of them was expressed plainly enough w^hen it was dangerous 
 to express them/ — still it was apparent to him that the cause 
 of order, what we may call the best chance for the Eepublic, 
 lay with the Senate and with the old traditions and laws 
 of Eome, in the re-estabhshment of which Sulla had em- 
 ployed himself. Of these institutions Mommsen speaks 
 with a disdain which we now cannot but feel to be justified. 
 " On the Eoman oligarchy of this period," he says, " no 
 judgment can be passed save one of inexorable and remorse- 
 less condemnation ; and, like everything connected with it, 
 the Sullan constitution is involved in that condemnation. "^ 
 We have to admit that the salt had gone out from it, and 
 that there was no longer left any savour by which it could 
 be preserved. But the German historian seems to err some- 
 what in this, — as have also some modern English historians, — ■ 
 that they have not sufficiently seen that the men of the day had 
 not the means of knowing all that they, the historians, know. 
 Sulla and his Senate thought that by massacring the JVIarian 
 faction they had restored everything to an eqviilibrium. 
 Sulla JiiiiLsclf seems to have believed that when the thincr 
 
 ' III (li'fnndiiig Koscius Amerinus, while Sulla was still in power, he speaks 
 of the SuIIaii ina.ssacres as "pugna Canuensis," a slaughter as foul, as dis- 
 graceful, as ])loo(ly as had l)e(!n the defeat at Canuaj. 
 
 '■^ ^MoiuiiiHoii, vol. ill. p. 385.
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 81 
 
 was accomplished Eome would go on, and grow in power 
 and prosperity as she had grown, without other reforms than 
 those which he had initiated. There can be no doubt that 
 many of the best in Eome, the best in morals, the best in 
 patriotism, and the best in erudition, did think that with 
 the old forms the old virtue would come back. Pompey 
 thought so, and Cicero. Cato thought so, and Brutus. 
 Cresar, when he came to think about it, thought the reverse. 
 But even now, to us looking back with so many things made 
 clear to us, with all the convictions which prolonged success 
 produces, it is doubtful whether some other milder change, — 
 some such change as Cicero would have advocated, might 
 not have prevented the tyranny of Augustus, the mysteries 
 of Tiberius, the freaks of Caligula, the folly of Claudius, and 
 the madness of Nero. 
 
 It is an uphill task, — that of advocating the cause of a 
 man who has failed. The Ccesars of the world are they who 
 make interesting stories. That Cicero failed in the great 
 purpose of his life has to be acknowledged. He had studied 
 the history of his country and was aware that hitherto 
 the world had produced nothing so great as Eoman power ; 
 and he knew that Eome had produced true patriotism. 
 Her Consuls, her Censors, her Tribunes, and her Generals 
 had as a rule been true to Eome, serving their country, at 
 any rate till of late years, rather than themselves. And 
 he believed that liberty had existed in Eome though no- 
 where else. It would be well if we could realise the idea of 
 liberty which Cicero entertained. Liberty was very dear 
 to him, — dear to him not only as enjoying it himself, but 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 as a privilege for the enjoyment of others. But it 
 was only the liberty of a few. Half the population of 
 the Eoman cities were slaves, and in Cicero's time the 
 freedom of the city, — which he regarded as necessary to 
 liberty, — belonged only to a small proportion of the popula- 
 tion of Italy. It was the liberty of a small privileged class 
 for which he was anxious. That a Sicilian should be free 
 under a Eoman Proconsul, as a Roman citizen was entitled 
 to be, was abhorrent to his doctrine. The idea of cosmopoli- 
 tan freedom, — an idea which exists with us but is not 
 common to very many even now, — had not as yet been 
 born ; — that care for freedom which springs from a desire 
 to do to others as we would that they should do to us. It 
 required Christ to father that idea, and Cicero, though he 
 was nearer to Christianity than any who had yet existed, 
 had not reached it. But this liberty, though it was but 
 of a few, was so dear to him, that he spent his life in an 
 endeavour to preserve it. The kings had been expelled 
 from Eome because they had trampled on liberty. Then 
 came the Eepublic which we know to have been at its best 
 no more than an oligarchy. But still it was founded on 
 the idea that everything should be done by the votes 
 of the free people. For many years everything was done 
 by the votes of the free people. Under what inducements 
 they hnd voted is another question. Clients were subject 
 to their patrons and voted as they were told. We have 
 heard of Ihut even in England, where many of us still 
 think that such a way of voting is far from objectionable. 
 Peiliaps compulsion was sometimes used, — a sort of
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 8.3 
 
 "rattening" by which large bodies were driven to the poll 
 to carry this or the other measure. Simple eloquence pre- 
 vailed with some, and with others flattery. Then corruption 
 became rampant, as was natural, the rich buying the votes 
 of the poor ; and votes were bought in various ways, — by 
 cheap food as well as by money, by lavish expenditure in 
 games, by promises of land, and other means of bribery 
 more or less overt. This was bad of course. Every freeman 
 shou.ld have given a vote according to his conscience. But 
 in what country, — the millennium not having yet arrived in 
 any, — has this been achieved ? Though voting in England 
 has not always been pure, we have not wished to do away 
 with the votes of freemen and to submit everything to 
 personal rule. Nor did Cicero. 
 
 He knew that much was bad, and had himself seen 
 many things that were very evil. He had lived through 
 the dominations of Marius and Sulla, and had seen the old 
 practices of Eoman government brought down to the 
 pretence of traditional forms. But still, so he thought, 
 there was life left in the old forms if they could be 
 revivified by patriotism, labour and intelligence. It was 
 the best that he could imagine for the State, — infinitely 
 better than the chance of falling into the bloody hands 
 of one Marius and one Sulla after another. Mommsen tells 
 us that nothing could be more rotten than the condition 
 of oligarchical government into which Rome had fallen, — 
 and we are inclined to agree with Mommsen because we 
 have seen what followed. But that Cicero, living and see- 
 ing it all as a present spectator, should have hoped better 
 
 G 2
 
 84 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 things, should not I think cause us to doubt either Cicero's 
 wisdom or his patriotism. I cannot but think that had 
 I been a Roman of those days I should have preferred 
 Cicero with his memories of the past to Caesar with his 
 ambition for the future. 
 
 Looking back from our standing point of to-day we know 
 how great Eome was, — infinitely greater as far as power 
 is concerned than anything else which the world has pro- 
 duced. It came to pass that " Urbis et orbis " was not 
 a false boast. Gradually growing from the little nest of 
 robbers established on the banks of the Tiber, the people 
 of Eome learned how to spread their arms over all the 
 known world, and to conquer and rule while they drew 
 to themselves all that the ingenuity and industry of other 
 people had produced. To do this there must have been 
 not only courage and persistence, but intelligence, patriotism, 
 and superior excellence in that art of combination of which 
 government consists. But yet, when we look back, it is 
 hard to say when were the palmy days of Eome. When did 
 those virtues shine by which her power was founded. When 
 was tliat wisdom best exhibited from which came her 
 capacity for ruling. Not in the time of her early kings 
 whose mythic virtues, if they existed, were concerned but 
 in small matters, — for the Eome of the kings claimed a 
 jurisdiction extending as yet but a few miles from the city. 
 And from the tiiiK; of tlieir expulsion, Eome, thougli she was 
 rising in power, was rising slowly, and through such difficulties 
 that the reader of history, did he not know the future, 
 would tliinlc fi'om time to time that the day of her destruction
 
 THE CONDITION OF HOME. 85 
 
 had come upon lier. Not when Brennus was at Eome with 
 his Gauls, a hundred and twenty-five years after the ex- 
 pulsion of the kings, could Eome be said to have been 
 great ; nor when fifty or sixty years afterwards, the Roman 
 army, — -the only army which Eome then possessed, — had 
 to lay down its arms in the Caudine Forks and pass under 
 the Samnite yoke. Then when the Samnite wars were 
 ended, and Eome was mistress in Italy, — mistress after all 
 of no more than Southern Italy, — the Punic wars began. It 
 could hardly have been during that long contest with 
 Carthage which was carried on for nearly fifty years that 
 the palmy days of Eome were at their best. Hannibal seems 
 always to be the master. Trebia, Thrasymene and Cannse, 
 year after year, threaten complete destruction to the State. 
 Then comes the great Scipio ; and, no doubt, if we must mark 
 an era of Eoman greatness, it would be that of the battle 
 of Zama and the submission of Carthage, 201 years before 
 Christ. But with Scipio there springs up the idea of personal 
 ambition. And in the Macedonian and Greek wars that 
 follow, though the arm of Eome is becoming stronger every 
 day and her shoulders broader, there is already the 
 glamour of her decline in virtue. Her dealings with Antio- 
 chus, with Pyrrhus and with the Achseans, though successful, 
 were hardly glorious. Then came the two Gracchi, and the 
 reader begins to doubt whether the glory of the Eepublic is 
 not already over. They demanded impossible reforms, — 
 by means as illegal as they were impossible, and were both 
 killed in popular riots. The war with Jugurtha followed 
 in which the Eomans were for years unsuccessful, and
 
 86 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 during which German hordes from the north, rushed into 
 Gaul and destroyed an army of 80,000 Eomans. This 
 brings us to Marius and to Sulla, of whom we have 
 already spoken, and to that period of Eoman politics, 
 which the German historian describes as being open 
 to no judgment " save one of inexorable and remorseless 
 condemnation." 
 
 But in truth the history of every people and every nation will 
 be subject to the same criticism if it be regarded with the 
 same severity. In all that man has done as yet in the way 
 of government the seeds of decay are apparent when looked 
 back upon from an age in advance. The period of Queen 
 Elizabeth was very great to us, yet by what dangers were 
 we enveloped in her days ! But for a storm at sea we might 
 have been subjected to Spain. By what a system of false- 
 liood and petty tyrannies were we governed through the reigns 
 of James I. and Charles I. ! What periods of rottenness and 
 danger there have been since ! How little glorious was the 
 reign of Charles II., how full of danger that of William ! — 
 how mean those of the four Georges, with the dishonesty of 
 ministers such as Walpole and Newcastle ! And to-day, — are 
 tliere not many who are telling us that we are losing the liber- 
 ties wliich our forefathers got for us, and that no judgment 
 can be passed on us " save one of inexorable and remorseless 
 condemnation " ? We are a great nation and the present 
 threaten ings arc probably vain. Nevertheless the seeds of 
 decay are no doubt inlicrent in our policies and our practices, 
 — so ]iiiiiii('cstly inherent that fiiiurc historians will pronounce 
 upon tluMu with certainty.
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 87 
 
 But Cicero, not having the advantage of distance, having 
 simply in his mind the knowledge of the greatness which had 
 been achieved, and in his heart a true love for the country 
 which had achieved it and which was his own, encouraged 
 himself to think that the good might be recovered and the bad 
 eliminated. Marius and Sulla, Pompey also towards the end 
 of his career if I can read his character rightly, Csesar, and 
 of course Augustus, being all destitute of scruple, strove to 
 acquire, each for himself, the power which the weak hands of 
 the Senate were unable to grasp. However much, or however 
 little, the country of itself might have been to any of them, it 
 seemed good to him, — whether for the country's sake or for 
 his own, — that the rule should be in his own hands. Each 
 had the opportunity, and each used it or tried to use it. 
 With Cicero there is always present the longing to restore 
 the power to the old constitutional possessors of it. So much 
 is admitted even by his bitter enemies ; — and I am sometimes 
 at a loss whether to wonder most that a man of letters, dead 
 two thousand years ago, should have enemies so bitter or a 
 friend so keenly in earnest about him as I am. Cicero was 
 aware, — quite as well as any who lived then, if he did not 
 see the matter clearer even than any others, — that there was 
 much that was rotten in the State. Men who had been 
 murderers on behalf of Marius, and then others who had 
 murdered on behalf of Sulla, — among whom that Catiline of 
 whom we have to speak presently had been one, — were not 
 apt to settle themselves down as quiet citizens. The laws had 
 been set aside. Even the law-courts had been closed. Sulla
 
 88 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 had been laAv, and the closets of his favourites had been the 
 law-courts. Senators had been cowed and obedient. The 
 Tribunes had only been mock Tribunes. Eome, when Cicero 
 began his public life, was still trembling. The Consuls of 
 the day were men chosen at Sulla's command. The army 
 was Sulla's army. The courts were now again opened by 
 Sulla's permission. The day fixed by Sulla when murderers 
 might no longer murder, — or at any rate should not be paid 
 for murdering, — had arrived. There was not, one would say, 
 much hope for good things. But Sulla had reproduced the 
 signs of order, and the best hope lay in that direction. 
 Consuls, Prtetors, Quoestors, ^diles, even Tribunes, were still 
 there. Perhaps it might be given to him, to Cicero, to 
 strengthen the hands of such ofticers. At any rate there was 
 no better course open to him by which he could serve his 
 country. 
 
 The heaviest accusation brought against Cicero charges him 
 
 with being insincere to the various men with whom he was 
 
 brought in contact in carrying out the purpose of his life ; and 
 
 he has also been accused of having changed his purpose. It 
 
 has been alleged that having begun life as a democrat he 
 
 went over to the aristocracy as soon as he had secured his 
 
 high office of State. As we go on it will be my object to 
 
 show that he was altogether sincere in his purpose, that he 
 
 never changed his political idea, and that in these deviations 
 
 as to men and as to means, — whether for instance he was 
 
 ready to serve C;esar or to oppose him, — he was guided even 
 
 in the insincerity of liis utterances, by the sincerity of his
 
 THE CONDITION OF ROME. 89 
 
 purpose. I think that I can remember even in Great Britain, 
 even in the days of Queen Victoria, men sitting cheek by jowl 
 on the same Treasury Bench who have been very bitter to 
 each other in Parliament ; — and friends, who have come to 
 speak of each other with anything but friendly words. With 
 us fidelity in friendship is happily a virtue. In Korae 
 expedience governed everything. All I claim for Cicero 
 is that he was more sincere than others around him.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS EAELY PLEADINGS, — SEXTUS EOSCIUS AMERINTJS, — HIS 
 
 INCOME. 
 
 We now come to the beginning of the work of Cicero's Hfe. 
 j„ gQ This at first consisted in his employment as an 
 aetat 27. advocate, — from which he gradually rose into 
 public or political occupation, as so often happens with 
 a successful barrister in our time. We do not know 
 with absolute certainty even in what year Cicero began 
 his pleadings, or in what cause. It may probably have 
 been in 81 B.C. when he was twenty-five — or in his 
 twenty-sixth year. Of the pleadings of which we know the 
 particulars, that in the defence of Sextus Eoscius Amerinus, 
 which took place undoubtedly in the year 80 B.C. setat 
 twenty-seven, was probably the earliest. As to that 
 we have his speech nearly entire, — as we have also one for 
 I'liblius Quintius which has generally been printed first 
 aiiiuiig the orator's works. It has, however, I think been 
 made clear that that spoken for Sextus Eoscius came before 
 it. It is certain tliat there had been others before either 
 of them. In that fur Sextus he says that he had never
 
 PRO SEXTO EOSCIO. 91 
 
 spoken before in any public cause/ such as was the accusa- 
 tion in which he was now engaged, from which the inference 
 has to be made that he had been engaged in private causes ; 
 and in that for Quintius he declares that there was wanting 
 to him in that matter an aid which he had been accustomed 
 to enjoy in others.'^ No doubt he had tried his 'prentice 
 hand in cases of less importance. That of these two the 
 defence of Sextus Eoscius came first is also to be found in 
 his own words. More than once in pleading for Quintius 
 he speaks of the proscriptions and confiscations of Sulla as 
 evils then some time past. These were brought nominally 
 to a close in June 81 ; — but it has been supposed by those 
 who have placed this oration first that it was spoken in 
 that very year. This seems to have been impossible. "I 
 am most unwilling," says he, "to call to mind that subject 
 the very memory of which should be wiped out from our 
 thoughts."^ When the tone of the two speeches is com- 
 pared it will become evident that that for Sextus Eoscius 
 was spoken the first. It was, as I have said, spoken in 
 his twenty-seventh year B.C. 80. — the year after the pro- 
 scription lists had been closed, when Sulla was still Dictator, 
 
 ^ Pro Sexto Roscio, ca. xxi. " Quodanteacausampublicaminillam dixerim." 
 lie says also in the Brutus, ca. xc, " Itaque prima causa publica, pro Sex 
 IJoscio dicta." By " publica causa " he means a criminal accusation in 
 distinction from a civil action. 
 
 ^ Pro Publio Quintio, ca. i. " Quod mihi consuevit in ceteris causis esse 
 adjumento, id quoque in hac causa deficit." 
 
 ^ Pro Publio Quintio, ca. xxi. "Nolo eam rem commemorando renovare, 
 cujus omnino rei memoriam omuem tolli funditus ac deleri arbitror 
 oportere."
 
 92 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 and when the sales of confiscated goods though no longer 
 legal were still carried on under assumed authority. As 
 to such violation of Sulla's own enactment Cicero excuses 
 the Dictator in this very speech, likening him to Great Jove 
 the Thunderer. Even " Jupiter Optimus Maximus/' as he is 
 whose nod the heavens, the earth and seas obey, — even he 
 cannot so look after his numerous affairs but what the winds 
 and the storms will be too strong sometimes, or the heat too 
 great, or the cold too bitter. If so how can we wonder that 
 Sulla, who has to rule the State, to govern in fact the world, 
 should not be able himself to see to everything? Jove 
 probably found it convenient not to see many things. Such 
 must certainly have been the case with Salla. 
 
 I will venture, as other biographers have done before, to 
 tell the story of Sextus Eoscius of Amerina at some length 
 because it is in itself a tale of powerful romance, mysterious, 
 grim, betraying guilt of the deepest dye, misery most pro- 
 found, and audacity unparalleled ; because in a word it is as 
 interesting as any novel that modern fiction has produced; 
 and also I will tell it because it lets in a flood of light upon 
 the condition of Rome at the time. Our hair is made to 
 stand on end when we remember that men had to pick their 
 steps in such a State as this, and to live if it were possible, 
 and, if not, then to be ready to die. We come in upon the 
 fag end of the proscription and see, not the bloody wreath of 
 Sulla as he triumphed on his Marian foes, not the cruel 
 persecution of tlu^ ruler (Ictormined to establish Iiis order of 
 things by slaughtering every foe ; but tlic necessary accom- 
 paniments of such ruthless deeds, — those attendant villanies
 
 PRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 93 
 
 for which tlie Jupiter Optimus Maximus of the day had 
 neither ears nor eyes. If in history we can ever get a 
 glimpse at the real life of the people, it is always more 
 interesting than any account of the great ' facts however 
 grand. 
 
 The Kalends of June had been fixed by Sulla as the day 
 on which the slaughter legalized by the proscriptions should 
 cease. In the September following an old gentleman named 
 Sextus Eoscius was murdered in the streets of Eome as he 
 was going home from supper one night, attended by two 
 slaves. By whom he was murdered probably more than 
 one or two knew then, but nobody knows now. He was 
 a man of reputation, well acquainted with the Metelluses and 
 Messalas of the day, and passing rich. His name had been 
 down on no proscription list, for he had been a friend of 
 Sulla's friends. He was supposed when he was murdered to 
 be worth about six million of sesterces, or something between 
 fifty and sixty thousand pounds of our money. Though there 
 was at that time much money in Eome this amounted to 
 wealth ; — and though we cannot say who murdered the man, 
 we may feel sure that he was murdered for his money. 
 
 Immediately on his death his chattels were seized and 
 sold, — or divided probably without being sold, — including 
 his slaves, in whom as with every rich Eoman much of his 
 wealth was invested. And his landed estates, — his farms of 
 which he had many, — were also divided. As to the actual 
 way in which this was done we are left much in tlie dark. 
 Had the name of Sextus Eoscius been on one of the lists, 
 even though the list would then have been out of date, we
 
 94 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 could have understood that it should have been so. Jupiter 
 Optimus Maximus could not see everything, and great 
 advantages were taken. We must only suppose that things 
 were so much out of order that they who had been accustomed 
 to seize upon the goods of the proscribed were able to stretch 
 their hands so as to grasp almost anything that came in their 
 way. They could no longer procure a rich man's name to be 
 put down on the list, but they could pretend that it had been 
 put down. At any rate certain persons seized and divided 
 the chattels of the murdered man as though he had been 
 proscribed. 
 
 Old Eoscius when he was killed had one son of whom we 
 are told that he lived always in the country at Ameria, 
 looking after his father's farms, never visiting the Capital 
 which was distant from Ameria something under fifty miles, 
 a rough, uncouth, and probably honest man, — one at any 
 rate to whom the ways of the city were unknown, and who 
 must have been but partially acquainted with the doings of 
 the time.i As we read the story we feel that very much 
 depends on the character of this man, and we are aware that 
 our only description of him comes from his own advocate. 
 Cicero would probably say nmch whicli, though beyond 
 the truth, could not be absolutely refuted ; but would state as 
 facts nothing that was absolutely false. Cicero describes him 
 
 ' 1*10 Roscio, ca. xlix. Cicero says of him that he wonhl bo sure to sup- 
 pose that aiiythinj^ would have been clone according to law of which he 
 shouhl be told that it was done by Sulla's order. " Putat homo iniperitus 
 nioniiii, ngricola et rusticus, ista omnia, (piir. vos per Sullani gcstaesse dicilis, 
 more, lego, jure gentium facta."
 
 PRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 95 
 
 as a middle-aged man, who never left his farm, doing his duty 
 •well by his father as whose agent he acted on the land, a 
 simple, imambitious, ignorant man, to whom one's sympathies 
 are due rather than our antipathy, because of his devotion to 
 agriculture. He was now accused of having murdered his 
 father. The accusation was conducted by one Erucius, who 
 in his opening speech, — the speech made before that by 
 Cicero, — had evidently spoken ill of rural employments. 
 Then Cicero reminds him and the judges, and the Court, how 
 greatly agriculture had been honoured in the old days, when 
 Consuls were taken from the ploughs. The imagination, 
 however, of the reader pictures to itself a man who could 
 hardly have been a Consul at any time, one silent, lonely, 
 uncouth, and altogether separate from the pleasant inter- 
 courses of life. Erucius had declared of him that he never 
 took part in any festivity. Cicero uses this to show that he 
 was not likely to have been tempted by luxury to violence. 
 Old Koscius had had two sons, of whom he had kept one with 
 him in Eome, — the one probably whose society had been 
 dearest to him. He, however, had died, and our Eoscius, — 
 Sextus Eoscius Amerinus as he came to be called when he 
 was made famous by the murder, was left on one of the farms 
 down in the country. The accusation would probably not 
 have been made, had he not been known to be a man sullen, 
 silent, rough, and unpopular ; — as to whom such a murder 
 might be supposed to be credible. 
 
 Why should any accusation have been made unless there 
 was clear evidence as to guilt ? That is the first question 
 which presents itself. This son received no benefit from his
 
 96 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 father's death. He had in fact been absolutely beggared by it, 
 — had lost the farm, the farming utensils, every slave in the 
 place, — all of which had belonged to his father and not to 
 himself. They had been taken — and divided ; taken by per- 
 sons called "Sectores," informers or sequestrators who took 
 possession of and sold, — or did not sell, — confiscated goods. 
 Such men in this case had pounced down upon the goods of 
 the murdered man at once and swallowed them all up, not 
 leaving an acre or a slave to our Roscius. Cicero tells us 
 who divided the spoil among them. There were two other 
 Eosciuses, — distant relatives probably, — both named Titus ; 
 Titus Ptoscius Magnus who sojourned in Rome, and who seems 
 to have exercised the trade of informer and assassin during 
 the proscriptions, and Titus Roscius Capito who when at home 
 lived at Ameria, but of whom Cicero tells us that he had 
 become an apt pupil of the other during this affair. They had 
 got large shares, but they shared also with one Chrysogonus, 
 the freed man and favourite of Sulla, who did the dirty 
 work for Jupiter Optimus Maximus, when Jupiter Optimus 
 Maximus had not time to do it himself. We presume that 
 Chrysogonus had the greater part of the plunder. As to 
 Capito, the apt pupil, we are told again and again that he got 
 three farms for himself. 
 
 Again it is necessary to say that all these facts come from 
 Cicero wlio, in accordance with the autliorised practice of 
 barristers, would scruple at saying notliing which he found 
 in his iiisliiiclions. How instructions were conveyed to an 
 advocate in those days wc do not qulLe know. There was no 
 system of atLorneys. lint tlie story was probably made out
 
 FRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 97 
 
 for the "patronus" or advocate by au underling, and in 
 some way prepared for him. That which was thus prepared 
 he exaggerated as the case might seem to require. It has to 
 be understood of Cicero that he possessed great art and, no 
 doubt, great audacity in such exaggeration ; — in regard to 
 which we should certainly not bear very heavily upon him 
 now unless we are prepared to bear more heavily upon those 
 who do the same thing in our own more enlightened days. 
 But Cicero, even as a young man, knew his business much 
 too well to put forward statements which could be disproved. 
 The accusation came first ; then the speech in defence ; — 
 after that the evidence, which was offered only on the side of 
 the accuser and wdiich was subject to cross-examination. 
 Cicero would have no opportunity of producing evidence. 
 He was thus exempted from the necessity of proving his 
 statements, but was subject to have them all disproved. I 
 think we may take it for granted that the property of the 
 murdered man was divided as he tells us. 
 
 If that was so, why should any accusation have been 
 made ? Our Sextus seems to have been too much crushed 
 by the dangers of his position to have attempted to get back 
 any part of his father's wealth. He had betaken himself to 
 the protection of a certain noble lady, one Metella, whose 
 family had been his father's friends, and by her and her 
 friends the defence was no doubt managed. " You have my 
 farms," he is made to say by his advocate. " I live on the 
 charity of another. I abandon everything because I am placid 
 by nature, and because it must be so. My house which is 
 closed to me, is open to you. I endure it. You have possessed 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 yourself of my whole establishment. I have not one single 
 slave. I sulTer all this and feel that I must suffer it. What 
 do you want more ? Why do you persecute me further ? In 
 what do you think that I shall hurt you? How do I in- 
 terfere with you ? In what do I oppose you ? Is it your 
 wish to kill a man for the sake of plunder ? You have your 
 plunder. If for the sake of hatred, what hatred can you feel 
 against him of whose land you have taken possession before 
 you had even known him ? " ^ Of all this which is the advo- 
 cate's appeal to pity we may believe as little as we please. 
 Cicero is addressing the judge, and desires only an acquittal. 
 But the argument shows that no overt act in quest of resti- 
 tution had as yet been made. ISTevertheless Chrysogonus 
 feared such action, and had arranged with the two Tituses 
 that something should be done to prevent it. What are we 
 to think of the condition of a city in which not only could a 
 man be murdered for his M'ealth walking home from supper ; 
 — that indeed might happen in Loudon if there existed the 
 means of getting at the man's money when the man was 
 dead ; — but in wliich sucli a plot could be concerted in order 
 that the robbery might be consummated? "We have murdered 
 the man and taken liis money under the false plea that his 
 goods had Ijeen conhscated. Friends we Unci are interfering ; 
 — tliese Metellas and JMetelluses probably. There is a son 
 who is the natural heir. Let us say that he killed his own 
 lather. The courts of law w liich liave only just been reopened 
 since the dear days of proscri])ti()U disorch-r and confiscation^ 
 
 ^ Fro Sexto Toscio, c;;. 1.
 
 PRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 99 
 
 will hardly yet be alert enough to acquit a uian in opposition 
 to the Dictator's favourite. Let us get him convicted, and as 
 a parricide, sewn up alive in a bag and thrown into the 
 river/' — as some of us have perhaps seen cats drowned, for 
 such was the punishment ; — " and then he at least will not dis- 
 turb us." It must have thus been that the plot was arranged. 
 It w^as a plot so foul that nothing could be fouler ; but not 
 the less was it carried out persistently with the knowledge 
 and the assistance of many. Erucius, the accuser, who seems 
 to have been put forward on the part of Chrysogonus, asserted 
 that the man had caused his father to be murdered because 
 of hatred. The father was going to disinherit the son, and 
 therefore the son murdered the father. In this there might 
 have been some probability had there been any evidence of 
 such an intention on the father's part. But there was none. 
 Cicero declares that the father had never thought of disin- 
 heriting his son. There had been no quarrel, no hatred. 
 This had been assumed as a reason, — falsely. There was 
 in fact no cause for such a deed. jSTor was it possible that 
 the son should have done it. Tlie father was killed in 
 Eome, when, as was evident, the son was fifty miles off. 
 He never left his farm. Erucius, the accuser, had said and 
 had said truly, that Eome was full of murderers.^ But who 
 was the most likely to have employed such a person, — this 
 rough husbandman who had no intercourse with Rome, who 
 knew no one there, who knew little of Eoraan ways, who had 
 
 ^ Pro Sexto Koscio, ca. xxix. " Ejusmodi teinpus erat, iiiquit, lit homines 
 vulgo impune occiderentur." 
 
 H 2
 
 100 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 uotliing to get by the murder when committed, — or they who 
 had long been concerned with murderers, who knew Eome, 
 and who were now found to have the property in their hands ? 
 The two slaves who had been with the old man when he 
 was killed, — surely they might tell something ? Here there 
 comes out incidentally the fact that slaves when they were 
 examined as witnesses were tortured, quite as a matter of 
 course, so that their evidence might be 'extracted. This is 
 spoken of with no horror by Cicero, nor, as far as I can 
 remember, by other Eoman writers. It w^as regarded as an 
 established rule of life that a slave if brought into a court of 
 law should be made to tell the truth by such appliances. 
 This was so common that one is tempted to hope and al- 
 most to suppose that the " Question " was not ordinarily 
 administered with circumstances of extreme cruelty. We 
 hear, indeed, of slaves having their liberty given them in 
 order that being free they may not be forced by torture 
 to tell the truth ; ^ but had the cruelty been of the nature de- 
 scribed by Scott in " Old Mortality," when the poor preacher's 
 limbs were mangled, I think we should have heard more of 
 it. Nor was the torture always applied; — but only when the 
 expected evidence was not otherwise forthcoming. Cicero 
 explains in the little dialogue given below how the thing was 
 carried on.- " You liad better tell the truth now, my friend ; 
 
 ^ Pro T. A. Milnne, ca. xxi. "Cur i^^itur cos manuinisit ? Metuebat 
 scilicit no imlicarr'iit ; nc dolorem perferrc non possent." 
 
 * Pro T. A. Milone, ca. x.\ii. " Hciis tu, Kuscio, verbi gratia, cave sis 
 mentiariH. Cloilius insidias fecit Miloni? Fecit. Certa crux. NuUas 
 fei;it. Hperata lil)frtas."'
 
 PRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 101 
 
 — Was it so and so ? " The slave knows that if he say it was 
 so, there is the cross for liim, or the " little horse," — but that 
 if he will say the contrary he will save his joints from racking. 
 And yet the evidence went for what it was worth. 
 
 In this case of Eoscius there had certainly been two slaves 
 present ; but Cicero who, as counsel for the defence could call 
 no witnesses, had not the power to bring them into court. 
 Nor could slaves have been made to give evidence against 
 tbeir masters. These slaves who had belonged to the mur- 
 dered man, were now the property either of Chrysogonus or 
 of the two Tituses. There was no getting at their evidence 
 but by permission of their masters, and this was withheld. 
 Cicero demands that they shall be produced, knowing that 
 the demand will have no effect. " The man here," he says 
 pointing to the accused, " asks for it, — prays for it. What 
 will you do in this case ? Wliy do you refuse ? " ^ 
 
 By this time the reader is brought to feel that the accused 
 person cannot possibly have been guilty, — and if the reader, 
 how much more the hearer. Then Cicero goes on to show 
 who in truth were guilty. " Doubt now if you can, judges, 
 by whom lloscius was killed; whether by him who by his 
 father's death is plunged into poverty and trouble, — who is 
 forbidden even to investigate the truth, — or by those who are 
 afraid of real evidence, who themselves possess the plunder, 
 wlio live in the midst of murder, and on the proceeds of 
 murder." ^ 
 
 Then he addresses one of the Tituses, Titus Magnus, who 
 
 ^ Pro Sexto Roscio, ca. xxviii. - Ibid.
 
 102 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 seems to have been sitting in the Court, and who is rebuked 
 for his impudence in doing so. Who can doubt who was the 
 murderer; — you who have got all the plunder or this man 
 who has lost everything ? " " But if it be added to this, that 
 you were a pauper before, that you have been known as a 
 greedy fellow, as a dare-devil ; as the avowed enemy of him 
 who has been killed, — then need one ask what has brought 
 you to do such a deed as this ? " i 
 
 He next tells what took place, as far as it was known, 
 immediately after the murder. The man had been killed 
 coming home from supper, — in September after it was 
 dark, say at eight or nine o'clock, — and the fact was 
 known in Ameria before dawn. Travelling w^as not then 
 very quick ; but a messenger, one Mallius Glaucia, a man 
 on very close terms with Titus Magnus, was sent down at 
 once in a light gig to travel through the night and take the 
 information to Titus Capito. Why was all this hurry ? How 
 did Glaucia hear of the murder so quickly ? What cause to 
 travel all through the night ? Why was it necessary that 
 Capito should know all about it at once ? I cannot think, 
 says Cicero, only that I see that Cajuto has got three of the 
 farms out of the thirteen which the murdered man owned ! 
 But Capito is to be produced as a witness and Cicero gives 
 us to understand what sort of cross-examination he will have 
 to undergo. 
 
 In all tliis ihe reader lias to imagine much and to come to 
 conclusions as to facts of Mbicli h(; has no evidence. When 
 
 ^ Pro Sexlo lloscio, ca. xxxi.
 
 PRO SEXTO ROSCIO. 103 
 
 tliat hurried messenger was sent there was probably no idea 
 of accusing the son. The two real contrivers of the murder 
 would have been more on their guard had the}^ intended such 
 a course. It had been conceived that when the man was 
 dead and his goods seized the fear of Sulla's favourite, the 
 still customary dread of the horrors of tlie time, wouhl 
 cause the son to shrink from inquiry. Hitherto when 
 men had been killed and their goods taken, — even if the 
 killing and the taking had not been done strictly in ac- 
 cordance with Sulla's ordinance, — it had been found safer 
 to be silent and to endure. But this poor wretch, Sextus, 
 had friends in Eome. Friends who were friends of Sulla, 
 of whom Chrysogonus and the Tituses had probably not 
 bethought themselves. When it came to pass that more 
 stir was made than they had expected, then the accusation 
 became necessary. 
 
 But in order to obtain the needed official support and aid 
 Chrysogonus must be sought. Sulla was then at Volaterra, 
 in Etruria, perhaps 150 miles north-west from Eome, and 
 with him was his favourite Chrysogonus. In four days from 
 the time of this murder the news was carried thither, and, — 
 so Cicero states,— by the same messenger, by Glaucia, who 
 had taken them to Ameria. Chrysogonus immediately saA\' 
 to the selling of the goods, and from this Cicero implies that 
 Chrysogonus and the two Tituses were in partnership. 
 
 ]jut it seems that when the fact of the death of old Boscius 
 was known at Ameria, — -at which place he was an occasional 
 resident himself and the most conspicuous man in the place. 
 — the inhabitants, struck with horror, determined to send
 
 104 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 a deputation to Sulla. Something of what was being 
 done wdth their townsman's property was probably known, 
 and there seems to have been a desire for justice. Ten 
 townsmen were chosen to go to Sulla and to beg that 
 he would personally look into the matter. Here again 
 we are very much in the dark because this very Capito 
 to whom these farms were allotted as his share, was not 
 only chosen to be one of the ten but, actually became 
 their spokesman and their manager. The great object 
 was to keep Sulla himself in the dark, and this Capito 
 managed to do, by the aid of Chrysogonus. None of the 
 ten were allowed to see Sulla. They are hoaxed into 
 believing that Chrysogonus himself will look to it, and 
 so they go back to Anieria having achieved nothing. 
 We are tempted to believe that the deputation was a 
 false deputation, each of whom probably had his little 
 share, — so that in this way there might be an appearance 
 of justice. If it was so Cicero has not chosen to tell that 
 part of the story, having no doubt some good advocate's 
 reason for omitting it. 
 
 So far the matter had gone with the Tituses, and with 
 Chrysogonus w^ho had got his lion's share. Our poor 
 Eoscius the victim did at first abandon his property, and 
 nllow liinisclf to be awed into silence. We cannot but 
 iliinlv that he was a poor creature, and can fancy that he 
 liad lived a wretclied life during all tlie murders of the 
 Sullan proscriptions. But in his abject misery he had 
 found Ills wiiy uji among tlie great friends of his family 
 at li'omo, — and liad tlicre been charged witli the parricide 
 
 I
 
 ATTACK UPON CURYSOGONUS. 105 
 
 because Clirysogouus aud the Tituses began to be ai'raid 
 of what these great friends might do. 
 
 This is the story as Cicero lias been able to tell it in 
 his speech. Beyond that we only know that the man was 
 acquitted. Whether he got back part of his father's property 
 there is nothing to inform us. Whether further inquiry was 
 made as to the murder, whether evil befell those two Tituses, 
 or Chrysogonus were made to disgorge, there has been no 
 one to inform us. The matter was of little importance in 
 Home, where murders and organised robberies of the kind 
 were the common incidents of everyday life. History would 
 have meddled with nothing so ordinary had not it happened 
 that the case fell into the hands of a man so great a master 
 of his language that it has been worth the while of ages 
 to perpetuate the speech which he made in the matter. 
 But the story as a story of Eoman life, is interesting, and 
 it gives a slight aid to history in explaining the condition 
 of things which Sulla had produced. 
 
 The attack upon Chrysogonus is bold, and cannot but 
 have been ofiensive to Sulla, though Sulla is by name ab- 
 solved from immediate blame. Chrysogonus himself, the 
 favourite, he does not spare, saying words so bitter of tone 
 that one would think that the judges, Sulla's judges, would 
 have stopped him had they been able. " Putting aside Sextus 
 Eoscius," he says, " I demand first of all, why the goods of an 
 esteemed citizen were sold ; then why have tlie goods been 
 sold of one who had not himself been proscribed and who 
 had not been killed while defending Sulla's enemies ? It is 
 against those only that the law is made. Then I demand
 
 106 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 why tliey were sold when the legal day for such sales 
 had passed ; — and why they were sold for such a trifle.^ 
 Then he gives us a picture of Chrysogonus flaunting down 
 the streets. "You have seen him, judges, how with his 
 locks combed and perfumed he swims along the Forum," 
 — he a freedman, with a crowd of Roman citizens at 
 his heels, that all may see that he thinks himself inferior 
 to none, — " the only happy man of the day, the only one 
 with any power in liis hands." ^ 
 
 This trial was as has been said a " causa publica," a 
 criminal accusation of such importance as to demand that 
 it should be tried before a full bench of judges. Of these 
 the number would be uncertain, but they were probably 
 above fifty. The Prtetor of the day, — the Prretor to 
 whom by lot had fallen for that year that peculiar duty, 
 — presided and the judges all sat round him. Tlieir duty 
 seems to have consisted in listening to the pleadings and 
 then in voting. Each judge could vote^ "guilty," "acquitted," 
 — or " not proven," as they do in Scotland. They were in 
 fact jurymen rather than judges. It does not seem that 
 any amount of legal lore was looked for specially in the 
 judges, who at different periods, had been taken from 
 
 ' Pro Sexto Roscio, ca. xlv. 
 
 " I'ro Sexto Roscio, ca. xlvi. The wlmlc pictuio, of rlirysogonns, of his 
 house, of his luxuries, and his vanity is too long for quotation, but is worth 
 'eferring to by those wlio wish to see how hold and how brilliant Cicero 
 could b('. 
 
 •^ They jmt in tablets of wax, on which they recorded tlieir judgment by in- 
 scribed letters, C, A, or N L, — Condenino, — Absolvo, — or Non liquet, intend- 
 ing to show th.it the iiii'iuiK ofoiniing to a deeisiuii did not seem to be sudicient.
 
 VENALITY OF THE JUDGES. 107 
 
 various orders of the citizens, but who at this monieut, 
 by a special law enacted by Sulla, were selected only 
 from the Senators. We have ample evidence that at 
 this period the judges in Rome were most corrupt. 
 They were tainted by a double corruption, that of standing 
 by their order, instead of standing by the public, each man 
 among them feeling that his turn to be accused might 
 come ; — and that also of taking direct bribes. Cicero on 
 various occasions, — on this for instance and notably in 
 the trial of Verres to which we shall come soon, — felt 
 very strongly that his only means of getting a true 
 verdict from the majority of judges was to frighten them 
 into temporary honesty by the magnitude of the occasion. 
 If a trial could be slurred through, with indifferent advocates, 
 with nothing to create public notice, with no efforts of 
 genius to attract admiration and a large attendance and 
 consequent sympatliy, the judgment would, as a matter 
 of course, be bought. In such a case as this of Sextus 
 Eoscius, the poor wretch, would be condemned, sewn up 
 in his bag and thrown into the sea, a portion of the plunder 
 would be divided among the judges, and nothing furtlier 
 would be said about it. But if an orator could achieve 
 for himself such a reputation that the world would come 
 and listen to him, if he could so speak that Rome should 
 be made to talk about the trial, then might the judges 
 be frightened into a true verdict. It may be understood 
 therefore of what importance it was to obtain the services 
 of a Cicero, — or of a Hortensius, who was unrivalled at 
 the Roman bar when Cicero began to plead.
 
 108 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 There were three special modes of oratory in which Cicero 
 displayed his powers. He spoke either before the judges, — a 
 large body of judges who sat collected round the Praetor as 
 in the case of Sextus Eoscius, or in cases of civil law before 
 a single judge, selected by the Praetor, who sat with an 
 assessor, as in the case of Eoscius the actor, which shall be 
 mentioned just now. This was the recognised work of his 
 life, in which he was engaged at any rate in his earlier years. 
 Or he spoke to the populace, in what was called the Concio 
 or assembly of the people, — speeches made before a crowd 
 called together for a special purpose, as were the second and 
 third orations against Catiline. Or in the Senate, in which a 
 political rather than a judicial sentence was sought from the 
 votes of the Senators. There was a fourth mode of address, 
 which in tlie days of the Emperors became common, when 
 the advocate spoke," ad Principem," — that is to the Emperor 
 himself or to some ruler acting for him as sole judge. It was 
 thus that Cicero pleaded before Caesar for Ligarius and for 
 King Deiotarus in the latter years of his life. In each of 
 these a separate manner and a distinct line liad to be adopted, 
 in all of which he seems to have been equally happy, — and 
 equally powerful. In judging of his speeches we are bound 
 to remember that they were not probably uttered with their 
 words arranged as we read them. Some of those we have 
 were never spoken at all, — as was the case with the five last 
 Verrene orations, and witli the second, by far the longest, of 
 tlie I'hilippics. Some, as was specially the case with tlie 
 defence of Mih> tlie language of which is perhaps as perfect 
 as that of any oration which has reached us from ancient or
 
 THE LA W CO URTS. 109 
 
 modern days, were only spoken in part, so that that which 
 we read bears but small relation to that which was heard. 
 All were probably retouched for publication.^ That words so 
 perfect in their construction should have flowed from a man's 
 mouth, often with but little preparation, we cannot conceive. 
 But we know from the evidence of the day and from the 
 character which remained of him through after Roman ages, 
 how great was the immediate effect of his oratory. We can 
 imagine him, in this case of Sextus Eoscius, standing out in 
 the open air in the Forum, with the movable furniture of 
 the court around him, the seats on which the judges sat with 
 the Prsetor in the midst of them, — all Senators in their white 
 robes with broad purple borders. There too, were seated, we 
 may suppose on lower benches, the friends of the accused and 
 the supporters of the accusation, and around, at the back of 
 the orator, was such a crowd as he by the character of his 
 eloquence may have drawn to the spot. Cicero was still a 
 young man, but his name had made itself known, and we can 
 imagine that some tidings had got abroad as to the bold 
 words which would be spoken in reference to Sulla and 
 Chrysogonus. Tlie scene must have been very different from 
 that of one of our dingy courts in which the ermine is made 
 splendid only by the purity and learning of the man who 
 wears it. In Eome all exterior gifts were there. Cicero 
 knew how to use them so that the judges who made so large 
 
 ^ Quiutilian tells us, lib. x. ca. vii., — that Cicero's speeches as they had 
 come to his day had been abridged, — l)y -which he probably means only 
 arranged, — by Tiro his slave and secretary and friend. "Nam Ciceronis 
 ad prffisens modo tempus aptatos libertus Tiro contraxit."
 
 110 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 a part in tlie pageant should not dare to disgrace tliemselves, 
 because of its publicity. Quintilian gives bis pupils much 
 advice as to tlie way in which they should dress themselves ^ 
 and hold their togas, — changing the folds of the garment so 
 as to suit the different parts of the speech, — how they should 
 move their arms and hold their heads, and turn their necks ; 
 even how they should comb their hair, when they came to 
 stand in public and plead at the bar. All these arts, with 
 many changes no doubt as years rolled on, had come down to 
 him from days before Cicero; but he always refers to Cicero 
 as though, his were the palmy days of Eoman eloquence. We 
 can well believe that Cicero had studied many of these arts 
 by his twenty -seventh year, that he knew how to hold his 
 toga and how to drop it, how to make the proper angle with 
 his elbow, how to comb his hair and yet not be a fop, and to 
 add to the glory of his voice all the personal graces which 
 were at his command. 
 
 Sextus Ptoscius Amerinus, with all his misfortunes, 
 injustices, and miseries, is now to us no more than the name 
 of a fable ; but to those who know it, the fable is, I thin]-:, 
 more attractive than most novels. 
 
 ^ (Juiiitilian, lib. xi. ca. iii. "Nam et toga, et calceus, et capillus, tarn 
 iiiiiiia cura, (|uain iiopligciitia, sunt reprehendenda." .... "Sinistruin 
 livacliiurn eo iiscnu; allcvainluiii est, \\i (ptasi iHirnialcui ilium aiit^nluui faciat." 
 C^Miiiit. Ill), xii. ca. x., " iic hii'ta toj^a sit ; " don't let tli(! toya be rumpled ; 
 " non serica ; " the silk here interdicted was the silk of eii'eminacy, not that 
 silk of aulhoi'ity of which our barristers are proud. "Ne intonsnm caput ; 
 non in gradus atipH! annulos coTn))luiii." It wouhl take too much space were 
 I to give liere all llie lessons taught l)y this jirolr-sor of deportment as to tlie 
 wealing of the toga.
 
 CICERO AS A PHILOSOPHER. 1 1 1 
 
 We know that Cicero pleaded otlier causes before he went 
 to Greece in the year 79, B.C. — especially those for Publius 
 Quintius of which we have his speech, and that far a lady of 
 Arretium in which he defended her right to be regarded as a 
 free w^oman of that city. In this speech he again attacked 
 Sulla, the rights of the lady in question having been placed 
 in jeopardy by an enactment made by the Dictator. And 
 again Cicero was successfuL This is not extant. Then he 
 started on his travels, as to which I have already spoken. 
 While he was absent Sulla died, and the condition of the 
 Republic during his absence was anything but hopeful. 
 Lepidus was Consul during these two years, than whom no 
 weaker officer ever held rule in Eoine, — or rebelled against 
 liome ; and Sertorius, who was in truth a great man, was in 
 arms against Eome, in Spain, as a rebel, though he was in 
 truth struggling to create a new IJoman power, which should 
 be purer than that existing in Italy. What Cicero thought 
 of the condition of his country at this time we have no 
 means of knowing. If he then wrote letters they have not 
 been preserved. His spoken words speak plainly enough of 
 the condition of the courts of law, and let us know how 
 resolved he was to oppose himself to their iniquities. A 
 young man may devote himself to politics with as much 
 ardour as a senior, but he cannot do so if he be intent on a 
 profession. It is only when his business is so well grasped 
 by him as to sit easily on him, that he is able to undertake 
 the second occupation. 
 
 There is a rumour that Cicero, when he returned home 
 from Greece, thought for a while of giving himself up to 
 philosophy, — so that he was called Greek and Sophist, in
 
 112 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 ridicule. It is not however to be believed that he ever for a 
 moment abandoned the purpose he had formed for his own 
 career. It will become evident, as we go on with his life, 
 that this so-called philosophy of the Greeks was never to him 
 a matter of more than interesting inquiry. A full active 
 human life, in which he might achieve for himself all the 
 charms of high rank, gilded by intelligence, erudition, and 
 refined luxury, in which also he might serve his country, his 
 order, and his friends, — ^just such a life as our leading men 
 propose to themselves here, to-day, in our own country,— 
 this is what Cicero had determined to achieve from his 
 earliest years, and it was not likely that he should be turned 
 from it by the pseudo-logic of Greek philosophers. That the 
 logic even of the Academy was false to him we have ample 
 evidence not only in his life but in his writings. There is a 
 story that during his travels he consulted the oracle at Delphi 
 as to his future career, and that on being told that he must 
 look to his own genius and not to the opinion of the world at 
 large he determined to abandon the honours of the Eepublic. 
 That he should have talked among the young men of the day 
 of his philosophic investigations till they laughed at him and 
 gave him a nickname, may be probable, but it cannot have 
 been that he ever thought of giving up the bar. 
 
 In the year of his return to Eome, when he was thirty, he 
 married Terentia, a noble lady, of whom we are informed that 
 she had a good hu-tune and that her sister was one of tlie 
 Vestal A'ii^itis.^ Ilc.r nobility is inferred I'rom the fact that 
 
 1 A iloiilit has been rai.sed whether he was not married when he went to 
 Greece, as otherwise liis duif^liter wouhl seem to have become a wife earlier than 
 is probulile. The date, liowever, lias been generally given as it is stated here.
 
 HIS INCOME. 113 
 
 the virgins were as a rule chosen from the noble families, 
 though the law required only that they should he the 
 daughters of free parents and of persons engaged in no mean 
 pursuits. As to the more important question of Terentia's 
 fortune there has never been a doubt. Plutarch, however, 
 does not make it out to have been very great, assuming a sum 
 which was equal to about 4,200/. of our money. He tells us 
 at the same time that Cicero's own fortune was less than 
 4,000/. But in both of these statements Plutarch, who was 
 forced to take his facts when he could get them and was not 
 very particular in his authority, probably erred. The early 
 education of Cicero, and the care taken to provide him with 
 all that money could purchase, is, I think, conclusive of his 
 father's wealth, and the mode of life adopted by Cicero 
 shows that at no period did he think it necessary to live as 
 men do live with small incomes. 
 
 We shall find as we go on that he spent his money 
 freely, as men did at Eome who had the command of large 
 means. We are aware that he was often in debt. AVe hud 
 that from his letters. But he owed money not as a needy 
 man does, but as one who is speculative, sanguine, and quite 
 confident of his own resources. The management of incomes 
 was not so fixed a thing then as it is with us now. Specu- 
 lation was even more rampant, and rising men were willing, 
 — and were able, — to become indebted for enormous sums, 
 having no security to offer but the promise of their future 
 career. Csesar's debts during various times of his life were 
 proverbial. He is said to have owed over £300,000 before 
 he reached his first step in the public employment. Cicero 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 rushed into no such danger as this. We know, indeed, that 
 when the time came to him for public expenditure on a great 
 scale, — as for instance when he was filling the office of 
 ^dile, — he kept within bounds and would not lavish money 
 which he did not possess. We know also that he refrained, 
 — altogether refrained, — from the iniquitous modes of making 
 large fortunes which were open to the great politicians 
 of the Eepublic. To be Qua3stor that he might be ^dile, 
 -^dile that he might be Praetor and Consul, and Praetor and 
 Consul that he might rob a Province, — pillage Sicily, Spain, 
 or Asia, and then at last come back a rich man, rich enough 
 to settle with all his creditors, and to bribe the judges should 
 he be accused for his misdeeds, — these were the usual steps 
 taken by enterprising Eomans towards power, wealth, and 
 enjoyment. But it will be observed, in this sequence of 
 circumstances, the robbery of the Province was essential 
 to success. This was sometimes done after so magnificent a 
 fashion as to have become an immortal fact in history. The 
 instance of A^erres will be narrated in the next chapter but 
 one. Something of moderation was more general, so that 
 the fleeced provincial might still live and prefer sufferance 
 to the doubtful chances of recovery. A Proconsul might 
 rob a great deal and still return with hands apparently 
 clean, bringing with him a score of provincial Deputies to 
 laud his goodness before the citizens at home. But Cicero 
 robbed not at all. Even they who have been most hard upon 
 his name, accusing him of insincerity and sometimes of want 
 of patriotism because; his Eoman mode of declaring himself 
 without reserve in his letters has been perpetuated for us
 
 Ills INCOME. 115 
 
 by the excellence of their language, — even they have 
 acknowledged that he kept his hands studiously clean in 
 the service of his country, when to have clean hands was 
 so peculiar as to be regarded as absurd. 
 
 There were other means in which a noble Roman misht 
 make money, and might do so without leaving the city. 
 An orator might be paid for his services as an advocate. 
 Cicero, had such a trade been opened to him, might have 
 made almost any sum to which his imagination could have 
 stretched itself. Such a trade was carried on to a very great 
 extent. It was illegal, — such payment having been forbidden 
 by the " Lex Cincia De Muneribus " passed more than a 
 century before Cicero began his pleadings.^ But the law 
 had become a dead letter in the majority of cases. There 
 can be no doubt that Hortensius the predecessor and great 
 rival of Cicero took presents if not absolute payment. 
 Indeed the myth of honorary work, which is in itself absurd, 
 was no more practicable in Eome than it has been found 
 to be in England, where every barrister is theoretically pre- 
 sumed to work for nothing. That the " Lex Cincia," as far as 
 the payment of advocates went, was absurd may be allowed 
 by us all. Services for which no regular payment can be 
 exacted will always cost more than those which have a 
 defined price. But Cicero would not break the law. It has 
 been hinted rather than stated that he, like other orators of 
 the day, hadHiis price. He himself tells us that he took 
 
 ^ Tacitus, Annal. xi. 5, says, "Qua cavetur autiquitus, ne quis, ob causam 
 oraudam, pecuniam donumve accipiat." 
 
 I 2
 
 116 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 nothing ; and no instance has been adduced that he had ever 
 done so. He is free enough in accusing Hortensius of having 
 accepted a beautiful statuette, an ivory sphinx of great value. 
 What he knew of Hortensius, Hortensius would have known 
 of him, had it been there to know. And what Hortensius, 
 or others, had heard would certainly have been told. As 
 far as we can learn there is no ground for accusing Cicero 
 of taking fees or presents beyond the probability that he 
 would do so. I think we are justified in believing that he 
 did not do so, because those who watched his conduct closely 
 found no opportunity of exposing him. That he was paid 
 by different allied States for undertaking their protection in 
 the Senate is probable, such having been a custom not illegal. 
 We know that he was specially charged with the affairs of 
 Dyrrachium, and had probably amicable relations with other 
 allied communities. This, however, must have been later 
 in life, when his name was sufficiently high to ensure the 
 value of his services, and when he was a Senator. 
 
 Noble Romans also, noble as they were and infinitely 
 superior to the little cares of trade, were accustomed to 
 traffic very largely in usury. We shall have a terrible 
 example of sucli baseness on the part of Brutus, — that 
 Brutus whom we liave been taught to regard as almost on a 
 par with Cato in purity. To lend money to citizens, or 
 more profitably to allied states and cities, at enormous rates 
 of interest, was the ordinary resource of a Boman nobleman 
 in quest of revenue. The allied city, wiieu absolutely eaten 
 1o Ihe lioiic by one nolile Koman wlio had ])lundered it as 
 Troconsul or (jtnciiioi', would escape from its immediate
 
 ins INCOME. 1 1 7 
 
 embarrassment by borrowing money from another noble 
 Eoman, wlio would then grind its very bones in exacting his 
 interest and his principal. Cicero in the most perfect of his 
 works, the treatise De Officiis, an essay in which he instructs 
 his son as to the way in which a man should endeavour to 
 live so as to be a gentleman, — inveighs both against trade 
 and usury. When he tells us that they are to be accounted 
 mean who buy in order that they may sell, we, with our 
 later lights, do not quite agree with him, — although he founds 
 his assertion on an idea which is too often supported by the 
 world's practice, namely, that men cannot do a retail business 
 profitably without lying.^ The doctrine, however, has always 
 been common that retail trade is not compatible with 
 noble bearing, and was practised by all liomans who aspired 
 to be considered among the upj)er classes. That other and 
 certainly baser means of making money by usury was, 
 however, only too common. Crassus, the noted rich man 
 of Eome in Caesar's day, who was one of the first Trium- 
 virate, and who perished ignominiously in Parthia, was known 
 to have gathered much of his w^ealth by such means. But 
 against this Cicero is as staunchly severe as against shop- 
 keeping. "First of all," he says, "these profits are des- 
 picable, which incur the hatred of men, such as those of 
 gatherers of custom and lenders of money on usury."^ 
 
 • ^ De Off. lib. i. ca. xlii. "Sordidi etiam putandi, qui mercantur a merca- 
 toribus, quod statim vendant. Nihil euim proficiunt, nisi admodum ineu- 
 tiantur." 
 
 ^ De Off. lib. i. ca. xlii. " Piimum improbantur ii qua'stus, qui in odia 
 hcminum incurrunt : ut portitorum ut foineratorum." The Portitores were
 
 118 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Again we are entitled to say that Cicero did not con- 
 descend to enrich himself by the means which he himself 
 condemns because had he done so the accusations made 
 against him by his contemporaries would have reached our 
 ears. Nor is it probable that a man in addressing his 
 son as to rules of life would have spoken against 
 a method of gathering riches which, had he practised 
 it himself, must have been known to his son. His 
 rules were severe as compared with the habits of the 
 time. His dear friend Atticus did not so govern his 
 conduct, or Brutus, who when he wrote the De Of&ciis 
 was only less dear to him than Atticus. But Cicero 
 himself seems to have done so faithfully. We learn from 
 his letters that he owned house-property in Rome to a 
 considerable extent, having probably thus invested his 
 own money or that of his wife. He inherited also the 
 family-house at Arpinum. He makes it a matter for 
 boasting that he had received in the course of his life by 
 legacies nearly £200,000 (twenty-million sesterces), in itself 
 a source of great income, and one common with Eomans 
 of high position.^ Of the extent of his income it is 
 impossible to speak, or even make a guess. But we do 
 know that he lived always as a rich man, — as one who 
 regards such a condition of life as essentially proper to 
 liim ; and that though lie was often in debt, as was customary 
 
 inferior collectors of ccrtiiiii clues, stiitioued at seajiort-s, wlio are supposed to 
 liavo been extremely vexatious in their dealings wilii tlic public. 
 ' riiilipp. IMG.
 
 HIS INCOME. 119 
 
 with noLle Eomans, he coukl always write about his dobts 
 in a vein of pleasantry, showing that they were not a 
 heavy burden to liim; and we know that he could at all 
 times command for himself villas, books, statues, ornaments, 
 columns, galleries, charming shades and all the delicious 
 appendages of mingled wealth and intelligence. He was 
 as might be some English Marquis who, though up to his 
 eyes in mortgages, is quite sure that he will never want 
 any of the luxuries befitting a Marquis. Though we have 
 no authority to tell us how his condition of life became 
 what it was, it is necessary that we should understand 
 that condition if we are to get a clear insight into his 
 life. Of that condition we have ample evidence. He 
 commenced his career as a youth upon whose behalf 
 nothing was spared, and when he settled himself in Rome 
 with the purport of winning for himself the highest honours 
 of the Republic he did so with the means of living like 
 a nobleman. 
 
 But the point on which it is most necessary to insist 
 is this ; — that while so many, I may almost say all around 
 him in his own order, were unscrupulous as to tlieir means 
 of getting money, he kept his hands clean. The practice 
 then was much as it is now. A gentleman in our days 
 is supposed to have his hands clean ; but there has got 
 abroad among us a feeling that, only let a man rise high 
 enough, soil will not stick to him. To rob is base; — 
 but if you rob enough robbery will become heroism, or at 
 any rate magnificence. With Cajsar his debts have been 
 accounted happy audacity, his pillage of Gaul and Spain, —
 
 120 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 aucl of Rome also, — have indicated only the success of the 
 great General; his cruelty, which in cold-blooded efficiency 
 has equalled if not exceeded the blood-thirstiness of any 
 other tyrant, has been called clemency.^ I do not mean 
 to draw a parallel between Csesar and Cicero. No two 
 men could have been more different in their natures or in 
 their career. But the one has been lauded because he was 
 unscrupulous, and the other has incurred reproach because 
 at every turn and twist in his life, scruples dominated him. 
 I do not say that he always did what he thought to be 
 rislit. A man who doubts much can never do, that. The 
 thing that was right to him in the thinking became wrong 
 to him in the doing. That, from which he has shrunk 
 as evil, when it was within his grasp, takes the colour 
 of good when it has been beyond his reach. Cicero had 
 not the stuff in him to rule the Rome and the Romans of 
 his period. But he was a man whose hands were free 
 from all stain, either of blood or money ; and for so much 
 let him at any rate have the credit. 
 
 Between the return of Cicero to Rome, in 77 B. C. 
 aiul his election as Quai-stor in 75, — in which period he 
 married Terentia, he made various speeches in different 
 causes, of which only one remains to us, or rather a 
 small part of one. This is notable as having been spoken 
 
 ^ lict any wlio (l(iiiljl lliis stntcint'iit rcfur to the fate of tlic inhabitants of 
 Alesia and Uxclli/iliinnin. (Vsaidid not slay or torture for the sake of cruelty, 
 hut waa never drti rnil liy luimanity \vli(!n expediency seemed to him to 
 require victimH. Miii and women, old and young, many or few, they were 
 Kucrificcd without luinoise, if lii.s pui'[io.sc ivcjuircd it.
 
 ROSCIUS, THE ACTOR. 121 
 
 in behalf of that Pioscius, the great comic actor, whose name 
 has become familiar to us on account of his excellence, 
 almost as have those of Garrick, of Siddons, and of Talma. 
 It was a pleading as to the value of a slave, and the amount 
 of pecuniary responsibility attaching to Koscius on account 
 of the slave, who had been murdered when in his charge. 
 As to the murder no question is made. The slave was 
 valuable, and the injury done to his master was a matter 
 of importance. He, having been a slave, could have no 
 stronger a claim for an injury done to himself than would 
 a dog or a horse. The slave whose name was Panurge, 
 — a name which has since been made famous as having 
 been borrowed by Eabelais, probably from this occurrence, 
 and given to his demon of mischief, — showed aptitude for 
 acting and was therefore valuable. Then one Flavins killed 
 liim, why or how, we do not know, — and having killed him 
 settled with Eoscius for the injviry by giving him a small 
 farm. But Eoscius had only borrowed or hired the man 
 from one Chairea, — or was in partnership with Chterea 
 as to the man, — and on that account paid something out 
 of the value of the farm for the loss incurred. But the 
 owner was not satisfied and after a lapse of time made 
 a further claim. Hence arose the action, in pleading 
 which Cicero was successful. In the fragment we have 
 of the speech, there is nothing remarkable except the 
 studied clearness of the language ; but it reminds us of 
 the opinion which Cicero had expressed of this actor in 
 the oration which he made for Publius Quintius, who was 
 the brother-in-law of Eoscius. "He is such an actor,'
 
 122 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 says Cicero, " tliat there is none other on the stage worthy 
 to be seen ; and such a man that among men he is the 
 last that should have become an actor." ^ The orator's 
 praise of the actor is not of much importance. Had 
 not Eoscius been great in his profession his name would 
 not have come down to later ages. Nor is it now matter 
 of great interest that the actor should have been highly 
 praised as a man by his advocate. But it is something 
 for us to know that the stage was generally held in such 
 low repute as to make it seem to be a pity that a good 
 man should have taken himself to such a calling. 
 
 In the year 76 B.C. Cicero became father of a daughter 
 whom we shall know as Tullia, — who as she grew up 
 became the one person whom he loved best in all the 
 world, — and was elected Quaestor. Cicero tells us of 
 himself that in tlie preceding year he had solicited the 
 Qusestorship, when Cotta was candidate for the Consulship 
 and Hortentius for the Pra3torship. There are in the 
 dialogue De Claris Oratoribus, — which has had the name 
 of Brutus always given to it, — some passages in which 
 tlie orator tells us more of himself than in any other of 
 Ills works. I will annex a translation of a small portion 
 because of its intrinsic interest, but I will relegate it to 
 an appendix because it is too long either for insertion in 
 the text or for a note.^ 
 
 ' I'ro I'lib. (^iiinLiu, ca. x.w. 
 
 ^ See Appendix B,, Brutus, ca. xcii. xciii.
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 CICEEO AS QU^STOK. 
 
 Cicero was elected Quaestor in his thirtieth year, — B.C. 76. 
 He was then nearly thirty-one. His predecessors and rivals 
 at the bar, Cotta and Hortensius were elected Consul and 
 Prsetor respectively in the same year. To become Quaestor 
 at the earliest age allowed by the law, at thirty-one namely, 
 was the ambition of the Eoman advocate who purposed to 
 make his fortune by serving the State. To act as Quaestor 
 in his thirty-second year, ^dile in his thirty-seventh, Praetor 
 in his forty-first, and Consul in his forty-fourth year, was 
 to achieve, in the earliest succession allowed by law, all 
 the great offices of trust, power, and future emolument. The 
 great reward of proconsular rapine did not generally come 
 till after the last step, though there were notable instances in 
 which a Pro-Praetor with proconsular authority could make a 
 large fortune, as we shall learn when we come to deal with 
 Verres, and though ^diles and even Quaestors could find 
 pickings. It was therefore a great thing for a man to begin 
 as early as the law would permit, and to lose as few years 
 as possible in reaching the summit. Cicero lost none. As 
 he himself tells us in the passage to which I have referred 
 in the last chapter, and which is to be found in the appendix
 
 124 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 lie gained the good will of men, — that is, of free Eomans 
 who had the suffrage, and who could therefore vote either 
 for him or against him, — by the assiduity of his attention 
 to the cases which he undertook, and by a certain brilliance 
 of speech which was new to them.^ Putting his hand 
 strenuously to the plough, allowing himself to be diverted 
 by none of those luxuries to which Eomans of his day 
 were so wont to give way, he carried his purpose by a 
 resolution to do his very best. He was " Novus Homo," 
 a man that is, belonging to a family of which no member 
 had as yet filled high office in the State. Against such 
 there was a strong prejudice with the aristocracy, who did 
 not like to see the good things of the Eepublic dispersed 
 among an increased number of hands. The power of voting 
 was common to all Eoman male citizens ; but the power 
 of influencing the electors had passed very much into the 
 hands of the rich. The admiration which Cicero had 
 determined to elicit would not go very far unless it could 
 be produced in a very high degree. A Verres could get 
 himself made Prsetor, — a Lepidus some years since could 
 receive the Consulship ; or now an Antony or almost a 
 Catiline. The candidate would borrow money, on the 
 security of his own audacity, and would thus succeed, — 
 perhaps with some minor gifts of eloquence, if he could 
 achieve them. With all this, the borrowing and the spend- 
 ing of money, tliat is, witli direct bribery, Cicero would 
 liuvc nothing to do; — Ijut of tlie art of canvassing, that art 
 by which he could at the moniout niala> himself beloved 
 
 ' JirutuH, c. xi'iii. " Aiiiiiioa hoiiiiiiuiii a<l luu dicciidi uovitute couverteraiu."
 
 CICERO AS QUJESTOn. 125 
 
 by the citizens who had a vote to give, he was a profound 
 master. 
 
 There is a short treatise " De petitione Consulatus," — on 
 canvassing for the Consulship, — of which mention may be 
 made here because all the tricks of the trade were as 
 essential to him when looking to be Quaestor as when he 
 afterwards desired to be Consul, and because the political 
 doings of his life will hurry us on too quickly in the days 
 of his Consulship to admit of our referring to these lessons. 
 This little piece of which we have only a fragment is 
 supposed to have been addressed to Cicero by his brother 
 Quintus, giving fraternal advice as to the then coming 
 great occasion. The critics say that it was retouched by 
 the orator himself. The reader who has studied Cicero's 
 style will think that the retouching went to a great extent, 
 or that the two brothers were very like each other in their 
 power of expression. 
 
 The first piece of advice was no doubt always in Cicerp's 
 mind, not only w^hen he looked for office, but whenever 
 he addressed a meeting of his fellow citizens. "Bethink 
 yourself what is this Eepublic ; what it is you seek to be 
 in it, — and who you are that seek it. As you go down 
 daily to the Forum turn the answer to this in your mind. 
 ' Novus sum ; consulatum peto ; Eoma est.' ' I am a man 
 of an untried family. It is the Consulship that I seek. It 
 is Eome in which I seek it.' " Though the condition of 
 Rome was bad, still to him the Eepublic w^as the greatest 
 thing in the world, and to be Consul in that Eepublic the 
 hiqliest honour which the world could give.
 
 126 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 There is nobility in that; but there is very much that 
 is ignoble in the means of canvassing which are advocated. 
 I cannot say that they are as yet too ignoble for our modern 
 use here in England, but they are too ignoble to be acknow- 
 ledged by our candidates themselves, or by their brothers 
 on their behalf. Cicero, not having progressed far enough 
 in modern civilisation to have studied the beauty of truth, 
 is held to be false and hypocritical. We, who know so 
 much more than he did and have the doctrine of truth 
 at our fingers' ends, are wise enough to declare nothing of 
 our own shortcomings, but to attribute such malpractices 
 only to others. "It is a good thing to be thought worthy 
 of the rank we seek, by those who are in possession of it." 
 Make yourself out to be an aristocrat, he means. " Canvass 
 thenj and cotton to them. Make them believe that in matters 
 of politics you have always been with the aristocracy, never 
 with the mob;" — that if "you have at all spoken a word 
 in public to tickle the people, you have done so for the 
 sake of gaining Pompey." As to this it is necessary to 
 understand Pompey's peculiar popularity at the moment, 
 both witli the Liberals and with the Conservatives. " Above 
 all see that you have with you the 'jeunesse doree.' They 
 carry so mucli ! There are many with you already. Take 
 care that they shall know how much you think of them." 
 
 He is especially desired to make known to the public the 
 iniquities of Catiline his opponent, as to whom Quintus 
 says thiit tliongh lie has lately been acquitted in regard 
 to his peculations in Africa, he has had to bribe the judges 
 so highly that he is now as poor as they were before they
 
 CICERO AS QU^STOR. 127 
 
 got their plunder. At every word we read we are tempted 
 to agree with Mommsen that on the Eoman oligarchy of 
 the period no judgment can be passed save one, "of in- 
 exorable condemnation." ^ 
 
 " Eemember," says Quintus, " that your candidature is very 
 strong in that kind of friendship which has been created 
 by your pleadings. Take care that each of those friends 
 shall know what special business is allotted to him on the 
 occasion. And, as you have not troubled any of them yet, 
 make them understand that you have reserved for the 
 present moment the payment of their debts." This is all 
 very well, but the next direction mingles so much of 
 business with its truth, that no one but Machiavelli or 
 Quintus Cicero could have expressed it in words. " Men," 
 says Quintus, " are induced to struggle for us in these 
 canvassings, by three motives, — by memory of kindness 
 done, by the hope of kindness to come, and by community 
 of political conviction. You must see how you are to catch 
 each of these. Small favours will induce a man to canvass 
 for you ; and they who owe their safety to your pleadings, — 
 for there are many such, — are aware that if they do not 
 stand by you now they will be regarded by all the world 
 as sorry fellows. Nevertheless they should be made to feel 
 that, as they are indebted to you, you will be glad to have 
 an opportunity of becoming indebted to them. But as to 
 those on whom you have a hold only by hope, — a class 
 
 ^ It must be remembered that this advice was actually given when Cicero 
 subsequently became a candidate for the consulship, but is mentioned liere as 
 showincf the manner in which were sought the great offices of state.
 
 128 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of men very mucli more numerous, and likely to be very 
 much more active, — they are the men whom you should 
 make to understand that your assistance will be always at 
 their command." 
 
 How severe, how difficult was the work of canvassing in 
 Eome we learn from these lessons. It was the very essence 
 of a great Eoman's life that he should live in public, — and 
 to such an extent was this carried that we wonder how such 
 a man as Cicero found time for the real work of his life. 
 The Eoman patron was expected to have a levee every 
 morning early in his own house, and was wont when he 
 went dow^n into the Forum to be attended by a crowd of 
 parasites. This had become so much a matter of course 
 that a public man would have felt himself deserted had he 
 been left alone either at home or abroad, Eome was full of 
 idlers, of men who got their bread by the favours of the 
 great, who lounged through their lives, political quidnuncs 
 who made canvassing a trade, men without a conviction 
 but who believed in the ascendency of this or the other 
 leader, and were ready to fawn, or to fight in the streets 
 as there might be need. These were the Quirites of the 
 day, — men who were in truth fattened on the leavings of 
 the plunder which was extracted from the allies. For it 
 was the case now that a Eoman was content to live bn 
 the industry of those whom his father had conquered. They 
 would slil] liiilit in the Ic'nons, but tlie work of Eome was 
 done by slaves, and the wealth of Eome was robbed from 
 tlie Provinces. Hence it came about that there was a 
 numerous class, to whom the name " asscctatores " was given,
 
 CICERO AS qUMSTOn. 129 
 
 who of course became specially prominent at elections. 
 Quintus divides all such followers into three kinds, and 
 gives instructions as to the special treatment to be applied 
 to each. " There are those who come to pay their respects 
 to you at your own house," — " Salutatores " they were called, 
 — " then those who go down with you into the Forum," — 
 " Deductores ; " — " and after these the third, the class of 
 constant followers," — " Assectatores " as they were specially 
 named. " As to the first, who are the least in consequence, 
 and who, according to our present ways of living, come in 
 great numbers, you should take care to let them know that 
 their doiug even so much as this is much esteemed by 
 you. Let them perceive that you note it when they 
 come, and say as much to their friends who will repeat your 
 
 words. Tell themselves often if it be possible. In this 
 way men, when there are many candidates, will observe that 
 there is one who has his eyes open to these courtesies, and 
 they will give themselves heart and soul to him, neglecting 
 all others. And mind you, when you find that a man 
 does but pretend, do not let him perceive that you have 
 perceived it. Should any one wish to excuse himself, 
 thinking that he is suspected of indifference, swear that 
 you have never doubted him nor had occasion to doubt. 
 
 "As to the work of the 'deductores,' who go out with 
 you; as it is much more severe than that of those who 
 merely come to pay their compliments, let them understand 
 that you feel it to be so, and as far as possible, be ready 
 to go into town with them at fixed hours." Quintus here 
 means that the " deductores " are not to be kept waiting 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 for the patron longer than can be helped. " The attendance 
 of a daily crowd in taking you down to the Forum gives 
 a great show of character and dignity. 
 
 " Then come the band of followers which accompanies 
 you diligently wherever you go. As to those who do this 
 without special obligation, take care that they should know 
 how much you think of them. From those who owe it to 
 you as a duty, exact it rigorously. See that they who can 
 come themselves, do come themselves, and that they who 
 cannot, send others in their places." What an idea does 
 this give as to the labour of a candidate in Eome ! I can 
 imagine it to be worse even than the canvassing of an 
 English borough, which to a man of spirit and honour is 
 the most degrading of all existing employments not held 
 to be absolutely disgraceful. 
 
 Quintus then goes on from the special management of 
 friends to the general work of canvassing. " It requires 
 the remembeiing of men's names " — " nomenclationem," a 
 happy word we do not possess, — " flattery, diligence, sweet- 
 ness of temper, good report, and a high standing in the 
 Eepublic. Let it be seen that you have been at the trouble 
 to remember people, and practise yourself to it so that the 
 power may increase with you. There is nothing so alluring 
 to the citizen as that. If there be a softness which you have 
 not by nature, so affect it that it shall seem to be your 
 own iiuhnally. You have indeed a way with you which is 
 not nnliccoiiiing U) a good-natured man; but you must 
 caress men, — which is in truth vile and sordid at other 
 times but is absolutely necessary at elections. It is no 
 
 I
 
 CICERO AS QU^STOR. 131 
 
 doubt a mean tiling to flatter some low fellow, but when 
 it is necessary to make a friend it can be pardoned. A 
 candidate must do it, whose face and look and toncrue 
 should be made to suit those he has to meet. What per- 
 severance means I need not tell you. The word itself 
 explains itself. As a matter of course you should not leave 
 the city ; but it is not enough for you to stick to your work 
 in Eome and in the Forum. You must seek out the voters 
 and canvass them separately ; and take care that no one 
 shall ask from another what it is that you want from him. 
 Let it have been solicited by yourself, and often solicited." 
 Quintus seems to have understood the business well, and 
 the elder brother no doubt profited by the younger brother's 
 care. 
 
 It was so they did it at Eome. That men should have 
 gone through all this in search of plunder and wealth does 
 not strike iis as being marvellous, or even out of place. 
 A vile object justifies vile means. But there were some at 
 Eome who had it at their hearts really to serve their 
 country, and with whom it was at the same time a matter 
 of conscience that in serving their country they would not 
 dishonestly or dishonourably enrich themselves. There was 
 still a grain of salt left. But even this could not make 
 itself available for useful purpose without having recourse 
 to tricks such as these ! 
 
 In his proper year Cicero became Quffistor, and had 
 
 2 g Yg assigned to him by lot the duty of looking after the 
 
 aetat 32. Western Division of Sicily. For Sicily, though but 
 
 one province as regarded general condition, being under one 
 
 K 2
 
 132 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 governor with proconsular autliority, retained separate modes 
 of government, or rather varied forms of subjection to Eome, 
 especially in matters of taxation, according as it had or had 
 not been conquered from the Carthaginians.-^ Cicero was 
 quartered at Lilybffium on the west, whereas the other Quaestor 
 was placed at Syracuse in the east. Tliere were at that 
 time twenty Qusestors elected annually, some of whom re- 
 mained in Eome, but most of the number were stationed 
 about the empire, there being always one as assistant to 
 each Proconsul. When a Consul took the field with an 
 army he always had a Qusestor with him. This had be- 
 come the case so generally that the Qusestor became as it 
 were something between a private secretary and a senior 
 lieutenant to a governor. The arrangement came to have a 
 certain sanctity attached to it, as though there was some- 
 thing in the connection warmer and closer than that of 
 mere official life, so that a Qusestor has been called a 
 Proconsul's son for the time, and was supposed to feel 
 that reverence and attachment that a son entertains for 
 his father. 
 
 Jiut to Cicero, and to young Quaestors in general, the 
 great attraction of the olfice consisted in the fact that the 
 aspirant having once become a Quaestor was a Senator for 
 the rest of his life, unless he should be degraded by 
 
 1 Cicero speaks of Sicily as divided into two provinces, "QucEstores 
 utrins(|uo provincite. " There was however but one Pnctor or Proconsul. 
 I5iit the island liad been taken by the Romans at two different times. Lily- 
 bieuin and the west was obtained from the Carthaginians at the end of the 
 first Punic war, whereas .Syracuse was coiniuered by Marcellus and occupied 
 diiiiiiL' llii; siMJoml I'unic war.
 
 CICERO AS QUJESTOR. 133 
 
 misconduct. Gradually it had come to pass that the Senate 
 was replenished by the votes of the people, not directly, but 
 by the admission into the Senate of the popularly elected 
 magistrates. There were in the time of Cicero between 500 
 and 600 members of this body. The numbers down to the 
 time of Sulla had been increased or made up, by direct 
 selection by the old Kings, or by the Censors, or by some 
 Dictator, such as was Sulla ; and the same thing was done 
 afterwards by Julius Cassar. The years between Sulla's 
 dictatorship and that of Coesar were but thirty, — from 79 
 to 49 B.C. These however were the years in which Cicero 
 dreamed that the Kepublic could be re-established by means 
 of an honest Senate, which Senate was then to be kept alive 
 by the constant infusion of new blood, accruing to it from 
 the entrance of magistrates who had been chosen by the 
 people. Tacitus tells us that it was with this object that 
 Sulla had increased the number of Quaestors.^ Cicero's 
 hopes, his futile hopes of what an honest Senate might be 
 made to do, still ran high, although at the very time in 
 which he was elected Qusestor he was aware that the judges, 
 then elected from the Senate, were so corrupt that their 
 judgment could not be trusted. Of this popular mode of 
 filling the Senate he speaks afterwards in his treatise, " De 
 Legibus. " " From those who have acted as magistrates the 
 Senate is composed — a measure altogether in the popular 
 interest, as no one can now reach the highest rank" — 
 namely, the Senate — " except by the votes of the people, 
 
 1 Tacitus Ann. lib. xi. ca. xxii. "Post, lege Sulla?, viginti creati supplendo 
 scnatui, cui judicia tradiderat."
 
 134 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 all power of selecting having been taken away from the 
 Censors.^ In his pleadings for P. Sextus he makes the same 
 boast as to old times, not with absolute accuracy, as far as 
 we can understand the old constitution, but with the same 
 passionate ardour as to the body. " Eomans, when they 
 could no longer endure the rule of kings, created annual 
 magistrates but after such fashion that the Council of the 
 Senate was set over the Republic for its guidance. Sena- 
 tors were chosen for that work by the entire people, and 
 the entrance to that order was opened to the virtue and to 
 the industry of the citizens at large." ^ When defending 
 Cluentius he expatiates on the glorious privileges of the 
 Eoman Senate. " Its high place, its authority, its splendour 
 at home, its name and fame abroad, the purple robe, the 
 ivory chair, the appanage of office, the fasces, the army 
 with its command, the government of the provinces ! " ^ On 
 that splendour " apud exteras gentes," he expatiates in one 
 of his attacks upon Verres.* From all this will be seen 
 Cicero's idea of the chamber into which he had made his 
 way as soon as he had been chosen Qmestor. 
 
 In this matter, which was the pivot on which his whole 
 life turned, — the character namely of the Eoman Senate, — 
 it cannot but be observed that he was wont to blov/ both hot 
 and cold. It was his nature to do so, not from any aptitude 
 for deceit, but because he was sanguine and vacillating, 
 
 ^ De Legibus, iii. xii. ^ pj-Q p. Sexto, Ixv. ^ Pro Cluentio, Ivi. 
 
 * Contra Verrem, ii. li)). ca. xi. "Ecqiias civitas est, non modoiuprovinciis 
 iioHtri.s, veram etiain in ultiniis iiationibus, ant tam jjoteius, ant tarn libera, 
 ant fitiam taTii iimiianiH ac barliani ; rex dcniqne ccipiis est, (\m. senatorem 
 
 liCijiuli lloniaiii t(xti) ac iloiiio non invitct ?"
 
 CICERO AS QTJJESTOB. 135 
 
 because he now aspired and now despaired. He blew hot and 
 cold in regard to the Senate, because at times he would feel 
 it to be what it was, — composed for the most part of men 
 who were time-serving and corrupt, willing to sell themselves 
 for a price to any buyer ; and then again at times he would 
 think of the Senate as endowed with all those privileges 
 which he names, and would dream that under his influence 
 it would become what it should be, — such a Senate as he 
 believed it to have been in its old palmy days. His praise of 
 the Senate, his description of what it should be and might 
 be, I have given. To the other side of the picture we shall 
 come soon when I shall have to show how, at the trial 
 of Verres, he declared before the judges themselves how 
 terrible had been the corruption of the judgment-seat in 
 Eome since by Sulla's enactment it had been occupied only 
 by the Senators. One passage I will give now in order that 
 the reader may see by the juxtaposition of the words that 
 he could denounce the Senate as loudly as he would 
 vaunt its privileges. In the column on the left hand in 
 the note I quote the words with which in the first pleading 
 against Verres he declared " that every base and iniquitous 
 thing done on the judgment-seat during the ten years since 
 the power of judging had been transferred to the Senate, 
 should be not only denounced by him but also proved," and 
 in that on the right I will repeat the noble phrases which 
 he afterwards used in the speech for Cluentius when he 
 chose to speak well of the order.' 
 
 ^ Contra Verrem, Act i. Ca. xiii. I Pro Cluentio Ivi. "Locus, aucto- 
 " Omnia non niodo commemorabim- ' ritas, ilorai splendor, apud exteras
 
 138 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 It was on the Senate that they who wished well for Rome, 
 must depend, — on the Senate, chosen, refreshed and re- 
 plenished from among the people ; on a body which should 
 be at the same time august and jiopular, as far removed on 
 the one side from the tyranny of individuals as on the 
 other from the violence of the mob ; but on a Senate freed 
 from its corruption and dirt, on a body of noble Eomans 
 fitted by their individual character and high rank to rule 
 and to control their fellow citizens. This was Cicero's idea, 
 and this the state of things which he endeavoured to achieve. 
 No doubt he dreamed that his own eloquence and his own 
 example might do more in producing this than is given 
 to men to achieve by such means. No doubt there was 
 conceit in this, conceit and perhaps vanity. It has to be 
 admitted that Cicero always exaggerated his own powers. 
 But the ambition was great, the purpose noble, and the 
 course of his whole life was such as to bring no disgrace on 
 his aspirations. He did not thunder against the judges for 
 taking bribes, and then plunder a Province himself. He did 
 not speak grandly of the duty of a patron to his clients, 
 and then open his hands to illicit payments. He did not 
 call upon the Senate for high duty, and then devote him- 
 self to luxury and pleasure. He had a beau ideal of the 
 manner in which a Roman Senator should live and work ; 
 iiiid lie endeavoured to work and live \\\) to that ideal. 
 
 Iiir, sid ctiam, expositis certis rebus, 
 agentur, qua) inter decern annos, 
 jiosteaquam juilieia ad senatuin 
 translata sunt, in idms, jiidiciiiulis 
 iicfarie fliiyiliotifijiic facta sunt," 
 
 natioues nomeu et gratia, toga prse- 
 tcxta, cella curulis, insignia, fasces, 
 exercitus, imperia, provincia."
 
 CICERO AS QUjESTOR. 137 
 
 There was no period after his consulship in which he was 
 not aware of his own failure. Nevertheless, with constant 
 labour but with intermittent struggles, he went on, till, at 
 the end, in the last fiery year of his existence, he tauglit 
 himself again to think that even yet there was a chance. 
 How he struggled and in struggling perished we shall see 
 by and by. 
 
 What Cicero did as Quaestor in Sicily we have no means 
 of knowing. His correspondence does not go back so far. 
 That he was very active and active for good we have two 
 testimonies, — one of which is serious, convincing, and most 
 important as an episode in his life. The other consists simply 
 of a good story, told by himself of himself, not intended at 
 all for his own glorification, but still carrying with it a 
 certain weight. As to the first; — Cicero was Quaestor in 
 Lilybfeum in the thirty-second year of his life. In the thirty- 
 seventh year he was elected ^dile, and was then called upon 
 by the Sicilians to attack Yerres on their behalf. Verres was 
 said to have carried off from Sicily plunder to the amount of 
 nearly £400,000,' after a misrule of three years duration. 
 All Sicily was ruined. Beyond its pecuniary losses its suf- 
 ferings had been excruciating ; but not till the end had come 
 of a Governor's proconsular authority could the almost hope- 
 less chance of a criminal accusation against the tyrant be 
 attempted. The tyrant would certainly have many friends 
 
 ^ Contra Verrem, Act i. xviii. " Quadringenties sestertmm ex Sicilia contra 
 leges abstulisse." In Smith's Dictionary of Grecian and Roman Anticpiities, 
 we are told that a thousand sesterces is equal in our money to 8Z. 175. \d. 
 Of the estimated amount of this plunder we shall have to speak again.
 
 138 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 in Eome. The injured Provincials would probably have 
 none of great mark. A man because he had been Qusestor 
 was not necessarily one having influence, unless he belonged 
 to some great family. Tliis was not the case with Cicero. 
 But he had made for himself such a character during his 
 year of office that the Sicilians declared that if they could 
 trust themselves to any man at Eome it would be to their 
 former Qu?estor. It had been a part of his duty to see that 
 the proper supply of corn was collected in the island and 
 sent to Eome. A great portion of the bread eaten in Eome 
 was grown in Sicily, and much of it was supplied in the 
 shape of a tax. It was the hateful practice of Eome to 
 extract the means of living from her Colonies so as to spare 
 her own labourers. To this, hard as it was, the Sicilians 
 were well used. They knew the amount required of them 
 by law, and were glad enough when they could be quit in 
 payment of the dues which the law required. But they were 
 seldom blessed by such moderation on the part of their rulers. 
 To what extent this special tax could be stretched we shall 
 see when we come to the details of the trial of Verres. It 
 is no doubt only from Cicero's own words that we learn that 
 though he sent to Eome plenteous supplies he was just to the 
 dealer, liberal to the towns, and forbearing to the allies 
 generally ; and that when he took his departure they paid 
 him honours hitherto unheard of.^ But I think we may take 
 it for granted that this statement is true ; firstly, because 
 it has never been contradicted ; and then from the fact 
 
 ' Pro I'liincio, xxvi.
 
 CICERO AS QU^STOR. 139 
 
 that tlie Sicilians all came to him in the day of their 
 distress. 
 
 As to the little story to which I have alluded, it has been 
 told so often since Cicero told it himself, that I am almost 
 ashamed to repeat it. It is, however, too emblematic of the 
 man, gives ns too close an insight both into his determina- 
 tion to do his duty and to his pride — conceit if you will — at 
 having done it, to be omitted. In his speech for Plancius ^ he 
 tells us that by chance coming direct from Sicily after his 
 Qusestorship he found himself at Puteoli just at the season 
 when the fashion from Eome betook itself to that delightful 
 resort. He was full of what he had done, — how he had sup- 
 plied Rome with corn, but had done so without injury to the 
 Sicilians, how honestly he had dealt with the merchants, and 
 had in truth won golden opinions on all sides, — so much so 
 that he thought that when he reached the city the citizens in 
 a mob would be ready to receive him. Then at Puteoli he 
 met two acquaintances. " Ah," says one to him, " when did 
 you leave Eome ? What news have you brought ? " Cicero 
 drawing his head up, as we can see him, replied that he had 
 just returned from his Province. " Of course, just back from 
 Africa," said the other. " Not so," said Cicero, bridling in 
 anger, — " stomachans fastidiose " as he describes it himself, — 
 " but from Sicily." Then the other lounger, a fellow who 
 pretended to know everything, put in his word. " Do you 
 not know that our Cicero has been Qupestor at Syracuse ? " 
 The reader will remember that he had been Quaestor in the 
 
 ^ Pro Plancio, xxvi.
 
 140 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 other division of the island, at Lilybaeum. " There was no 
 use in thinking any more about it," says Cicero. " I gave up 
 being angry and determined to be like any one else, just one 
 at the waters. " Yes ; he had been very conceited, and well 
 understood his own fault of character in that respect ; but 
 he w^ould not have shown his conceit in that matter had he 
 not resolved to do his duty, — in a manner uncommon then 
 among Quaestors, — and been conscious that he had done it. 
 
 Perhaps there is no more certain way of judging a man 
 than from his own words, if his real words be in our posses- 
 sion. In doing so we are bound to remember how strong will 
 be the bias of every man's mind in his own favour, and for 
 that reason a judicious reader will discount a man's praise of 
 himself. But the reader, to get at the truth, — if he be indeed 
 judicious, — will discount them after a fashion conformable 
 with the nature of the man whose character he is investi- 
 gating. A reader will not be judicious who imagines that 
 what a man says of his own praises must be false, or that all 
 which can be drawn from his own words in his own dispraise 
 must be true. If a man praise himself for honour, probity, 
 industry, and patriotism, he will at any rate show that these 
 virtues are dear to him, — unless the course of his life has 
 proved him to be altogether a hypocrite in such utterances. 
 It has not been presumed that Cicero was a hypocrite in 
 these utterances. He was honest, and industrious ; he did 
 appreciate lionour and love his country. 80 much is acknow- 
 ledged; — and yet it is supposed that what good he has 
 told us of himself is false. If a man doubt of himself 
 constantly, if in his most private intercourse and closest
 
 CICERO AS QUyESTOR. 141 
 
 familiar utterances he admit occasionally liis own human 
 weakness ; if he find himself to have failed at certain 
 moments and says so ; the very feelings that have produced 
 such confessions are proof that the highest points which have 
 not been attained have been seen and valued. A man will 
 not sorrowfully regret that he has won only a second place, — • 
 or a third, — unless he be alive to the glory of the first. But 
 Cicero's acknowledgments have all been taken as proof 
 against himself. All manner of evil is argued against him 
 from his own words, when an ill meaning can be attached 
 to them ; but when he speaks of his great aspirations he is 
 ridiculed for bombast and vanity. On the strength of some, 
 perhaps unconsidered, expression in a letter to Atticus, he is 
 condemned for treachery, whereas the sentence in which he 
 has thoughtfully declared the purposes of his very soul are 
 counted as claptraps. 
 
 No one has been so frequently condemned out of his own 
 mouth as Cicero, — and naturally. In these modern days we 
 have contemporary records as to prominent persons. Of the 
 characters of those who lived in long past ages we generally 
 fail to have any clear idea because we lack those close 
 chronicles which are necessary for the purpose. What 
 insight have we into the personality of Alexander the Great, 
 or what insight had Plutarch who wrote about him ? As to 
 Samuel Johnson, we seem to know every turn of his mind, — 
 having had a Boswell. Alexander had no Boswell. But 
 here is a man, belonging to those past ages of which I speak, 
 who was his own Boswell, and after such a fashion, that, 
 since letters were invented, no records have ever been
 
 142 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 written in langjuajre more clear or more attractive. It is 
 natural that we should judge out of his own mouth one who 
 left so many more words behind him than did any one 
 else, — particularly one who left words so pleasant to read. 
 And all that he wrote was after some fashion about himself. 
 His letters like all letters are personal to himself. His 
 speeches are words coming out of his own mouth about 
 affairs in which he was personally engaged and interested. 
 His rhetoric consists of lessons given by himself about his 
 own art, founded on his own experience and on his own ob- 
 servation of others. His so-called philosophy gives us the 
 workings of his own mind. No one has ever told the world 
 so much about another person as Cicero has told the world 
 about Cicero. Boswell pales before him as a chronicler of 
 minutise. It may be a matter of small interest now to the 
 bulk of readers to be intimately acquainted with a Eoman, 
 who was never one of the world's conquerors. It may be 
 well for those who desire to know simply the facts of the 
 world's history to dismiss as unnecessary the aspirations of 
 one who lived so long ago. But if it be worth while to 
 discuss the man's character, it must be worth while to 
 learn the truth about it. 
 
 " Oh, that mine adversary had written a book ! " Who does 
 not understand the truth of these words ? It is always out of 
 a man's mouth that you may most surely condemn him. 
 Cicero wrote many books, and all about liimself. He has 
 been lauded very highly. Middleton in the preface to his 
 own biography, which with all its charms has become a bye- 
 word for eulogy, quotes the opinion of Erasmus, who tells us
 
 CICERO AS QU^STOR. 143 
 
 that he loves the writings of the man " not only for the 
 divine felicity of his style, but for the sanctity of his heart 
 and morals." This was the effect left on the mind of an 
 accurate thinker and most just man. But then also has 
 Cicero been spoken of with the bitterest scorn. From Dio 
 Cassius, who wrote two hundred and twenty years after 
 Christ, down to Mr, Froude whose Csesar has just been 
 published, he has had such hard things said of him by men 
 who have judged him out of his own mouth that the reader 
 does not know how to reconcile what he now reads witli the 
 opinion of men of letters who lived and wrote in the century 
 next after his death, with the testimony of such a man as 
 Erasmus, and with the hearty praises of his biographer, 
 Middleton, The sanctity of his heart and morals ! It was 
 thus that Erasmus was struck in reading his works. It is a 
 feeling of that kind I profess, that has induced me to take 
 this work in hand, — a feeling produced altogether by the 
 study of his own words. It has seemed to me that he has 
 loved men so well, has been so anxious for virtue, has been so 
 capable of honesty when dishonesty was common among all 
 around him, has been so jealous in the cause of good govern- 
 ment, has been so hopeful when there has been but little 
 ground for hope, as to have deserved a reputation for 
 sanctity of heart and morals.' 
 
 Of the speeches made by Cicero as advocate, after his 
 Qusestorship, and before those made in the accusation of 
 Verres we have the fragment only of the second of two spoken 
 in defence of Marcus Tullius Decula, whom we may suppose 
 to have been distantly connected with his family. He does
 
 144 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 not avow any relationship. " "What," he says in opening his 
 argument, " does it become me, a Tullius, to do for this other 
 Tullius, a man not only my friend but my namesake ? " It 
 was a matter of no great importance, as it was addressed to 
 judges, not so called, but to " recuperatores," judges chosen 
 by the Prsetor and who acted in lighter cases.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 VEEEES. 
 
 Theee are. six episodes, — or, as I may say, divisions, — 
 in the life of Cicero to which special interest attaches 
 itself. The first is the accusation against Verres, in which 
 he drove the miscreant howling out of the city. The 
 second is his consulship, in which he drove Catiline out 
 of the city, and caused certain other conspirators who 
 were joined with the arch rebel to be killed — either legally 
 or illegally. The third was his exile, in which he himself 
 was driven out of Eonie. The fourth was a driving out 
 too, though of a more honourable kind, when he was com- 
 pelled, much against his will, to undertake the government 
 of a province. The fifth was Ctesar's passing of the Eubicon, 
 the battle of Pharsalia and his subsequent adherence to 
 Caesar. The last was his internecine combat with Antony, 
 which produced the Philippics and that memorable series 
 of letters in which he strove to stir into flames the expiring 
 embers of the Piepublic. The literary work with which we 
 are acquainted is spread, — but spread very unequally, — 
 over his whole life. I have already told the story of Sextus 
 Pvoscius Amerinus, having taken it from his own words. From 
 that time onwards he wrote continually, — but the fervid 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 stream of his eloquence came forth from him with unrivalled 
 rapidity in the twenty last miserable months of his life. 
 
 We have now come to the first of those episodes, and 
 I have to tell the way in which Cicero struggled with 
 Verres, and how he conquered him. In 74 B.C. Verres was 
 Prsetor in Eome. At that period of the Republic there 
 were eight Preetors elected annually, two of whom remained 
 in the city, whereas the others were employed abroad, 
 generally with the armies of the Empire. In the next 
 year, 73 B.C., Verres went in due course to Sicily with 
 proconsular, or pro-prsetorial, authority, having the govern- 
 ment assigned to him for twelve months. This was usual 
 and constitutional, but it was not unusual, even if uncon- 
 stitutional, that this period should be prolonged. In the 
 case of Verres it was prolonged, so that he should hold 
 the office for three years. He had gone through the 
 other offices of the state, having been Quaestor in Asia 
 and .^dile afterwards in Eome, — to the great misfortune 
 of all who were subjected to his handling, as we shall 
 learn by and by. The facts are mentioned here to 
 show that the great offices of the Eepublic were open 
 to such a man as Verres. They were in fact more open 
 to such a candidate than they would be to one less 
 iniquitous, — to an honest man or a scrupulous one, or 
 to one partially honest or not altogether unscrupulous. If 
 you .send a dog into a Wdod to get truffles you will en- 
 deavour to find one that will tear up as many truffles as 
 possible. A proconsular robber did not rob only for 
 liimself. lie robbed more or less for all Eome. Verres
 
 VERRES. 147 
 
 boasted that with his three years of rule he could bring 
 enough home to bribe all the judges, secure all the best 
 advocates, and live in splendid opulence for the rest of his 
 life. What a dog he was to send into a wood for truffles ! 
 To such a condition as this had Eome fallen when the 
 deputies from Sicily came to complain of their late governor 
 and to obtain the services of Cicero in seeking for what- 
 ever reparation might be possible. Verres had carried on 
 Ids plunder during the years 73, 72, 71 B.C. During this 
 time Cicero had been engaged sedulously as an advocate 
 in Piome. We know the names of some of the cases in 
 which he was engaged, — those, for instance, for Publius 
 Oppius, who, having been Qufestor in Bithynia, was accused 
 by his Proconsul of having endeavoured to rob the soldiers 
 of their dues. We are told that the poor province suffered 
 greatly under these two officers, who were always quarrelling 
 as to a division of their plunder. In tliis case the senior 
 officer accused the younger, and the younger, by Cicero's 
 aid, was acquitted. Quintilian more than once refers to the 
 speech made for Oppius. Cicero also defended Varenus, 
 who was charged with having murdered his brother, and 
 one Caius Mustius, of whom we only know that he was a 
 farmer of taxes. He was advocate also for Sthenius, a 
 Sicilian, who was accused before the Tribunes by Verres. 
 AVe shall hear of Sthenius again among the victims in 
 Sicily. The special charge in this case was that, having 
 been condemned by Verres as Prcetor in Sicily, he had 
 run away to Rome, — which was illegal. He was, however, 
 acquitted. Of these speeches, we have only some short 
 
 L 2
 
 1-iS LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 fragments wliich have been quoted by authors whose 
 works have come down to us, — such as Quintilian ; by 
 which we know at any rate that Cicero's writings had been 
 so far carefully preserved, and that they were commonly 
 read in those days. I will translate here the concluding 
 words of a short paper written by M. du Eozoir in reference 
 to Cicero's life at this period ; — " the assiduity of our orator 
 at the bar had obtained for him a high degree of favour 
 among the people, because they had seen how strictly he 
 had observed that Cincian law which forbade advocates 
 to take either money or presents for their pleadings, — 
 which law, however, the advocates of the day generally 
 did not scruple to neglect." ^ It is a good thing to be 
 honest when honesty is in vogue ; but to be honest when 
 honesty is out of fashion is magnificent. 
 
 In the affair Vvitli Verres there are two matters to 
 interest the reader, — indeed to instruct the reader, if the 
 story were sufficiently well told. The iniquity of Verres 
 is the first, which is of so extravagant a nature as to 
 become farcical by the absurdity of the extent to which 
 he was not afraid to go in the furtherance of his avarice 
 and lust. As the victims suffered two thousand years ago, 
 we can allow ourselves to be amused by the inexhaustible 
 fcilility of tlie man's resources and the singular iniquity 
 of his schemes. Then we are brought face to face with 
 the bare-faced corruption of the Eonian judges, — a corrup- 
 
 ' iM. (Ill liozoir was a French critic, and was joined with M. Gueroult and 
 M. d(! Gutiile in trunshitiiig and annotating the Orations of Cicero for M. 
 I'aiickoucke's edition of tli;; Latin classics.
 
 VERRES. 149 
 
 tion ■svliich, however, became a regular trade, if not 
 ennobled, made at any rate aristocratic, by the birth, 
 wealth, higli names, and senatorial rank of the robbers. 
 Sulla for certain state purposes, — which consisted in the 
 maintenance of the oligarchy, — had transferred the privileges 
 of sitting on the judgment seat from the Equites, or 
 kniglits, to the Senators. From among the latter a con- 
 siderable number, — thirty perhaps, or forty, or even fifty, — 
 were appointed to sit with the Prietor to hear criminal 
 cases of importance, and by their votes, which were recorded 
 on tablets, the accused person was acquitted or condemned. 
 To be acquitted by the most profuse corruption entailed 
 no disgrace on him who was tried, and often but little on 
 the judges who tried him. In Cicero's time the practice 
 with all its chances had come to be well understood. The 
 provincial governors with their Qusestors and lieutenants 
 were chosen from the high aristocracy, which also supplied 
 the judges. The judges themselves had been employed 
 or hoped to be employed in similar lucrative service. The 
 leading advocates belonged to the same class. If the pro- 
 consular thief, when he had made his bag, would divide 
 the spoil with some semblance of equity among his brethren, 
 nothing could be more convenient. The provinces were 
 so large, and the Greek spirit of commercial enterprise 
 which prevailed in them so lively, that there was room 
 for plunder ample at any rate for a generation or two. 
 The Eepublic boasted that in its love of pure justice it 
 had provided by certain laws for the protection of its 
 allied subjects against any possible faults of administration
 
 150 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 ou the part of its own officers. ' If any injury were done 
 to a province, or a city, or even to an individual, the 
 l^roviuce or city or individual could bring its grievance to 
 the ivory chair of the Prastor in Eome and demand redress. 
 And there had been cases, not a few, in which a delinquent 
 officer had been condemned to banishment. Much indeed 
 was necessary before the scheme as it was found to exist 
 by Verres could work itself into perfection. Verres felt 
 that in his time everything had been done for security as 
 well as splendour. He would have all the great officers 
 of state on his side. The Sicilians, if he could manage 
 the case as he thought it might be managed, would not 
 have a leg to stand upon. There was many a trick within 
 his power before they could succeed in making good even 
 their standing before the Prtetor. It was in this condition 
 of things that Cicero bethought himself that he might at 
 one blow break through the corruption of the judgment 
 seat; and this he determined to do by subjecting the 
 judges to the light of public opinion. If Verres could be 
 tried under a bushel as it were, in tlie dark, as many others 
 had been tried, so that little or nothing should be said 
 about the trial in the city at large, then there would be 
 no danger for the judges. It could only be by shaming 
 them, — by making them understand that Eome would be- 
 come too hot to hold them, — that they could be brought 
 to give a verdict against the accused. This it was that 
 Cicero detcrniincid to efTcct, — and did ell'cct. And we see 
 througliout tlie wliole pleadings that lie was concerned in 
 the matter not only for tlie Sicilians, or against Verres.
 
 TERRES. 151 
 
 Could something be done, — for the sake of Eome, for the 
 sake of the Kepublic, — to redeem the courts of justice from 
 the obloquy which was attached to them ? Might it be 
 possible for a man so to address himself not only to the 
 judgment seat, but to all Eome, as to do away with this 
 iniquity once and for ever? Could he so fill the minds 
 of the citizens generally with horror at such proceedings 
 as to make them earnest in demanding reform ? Hortensius, 
 the great advocate of the day, was not only engaged on 
 behalf of Verres, but he was already chosen as Consul for 
 the next year. Metellus, who was elected Praetor for the 
 next year, was hot in defence of Verres. Indeed, there 
 were three Metellus's among the friends of the accused, 
 who had also on his side the Scipio of the day. The 
 aristocracy of Rome was altogether on the side of Verres, 
 — as was natural. But if Cicero might succeed at all in 
 this which he meditated, the very greatness of his opponents 
 would help him. When it was known that he was to be 
 pitted against Hortensius as an advocate, and that he 
 intended to defy Hortensius as the coming Consul, — then 
 surely Rome would be awake to the occasion, and if Rome 
 could be made to awake herself, then would this beautiful 
 scheme of wealth from provincial plunder be brought to 
 an end. 
 
 I will first speak of the work of the judges, and of the 
 attempts made to hinder Cicero in the business he had 
 undertaken. Then I will endeavour to tell something of 
 the story of Verres and his doings. The subject divides 
 itself naturally in this way. There are extant seven
 
 152 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 so-called Orations about Verres, of which the two first apply 
 to the manner in whicli the case should be brought before 
 the courts. These two were really spoken, and were so 
 effective that Verres, — or probably Hortensius on his behalf, 
 — was frightened into silence. Yerres pleaded guilty, as 
 we should say, which, in accordance with the usages of the 
 court, he was enabled to do by retiring, and going into 
 voluntary banishment. This he did, sooner than stand his 
 ground and listen to the narration of his iniquities as it 
 would be given by Cicero in the full speech, — the "perpetua 
 oratio " — which would follow the examination of the wit- 
 nesses. What the orator said before the examination of the 
 witnesses was very short. He had to husband his time, as 
 it was a part of the grand scheme of Hortensius to get ad- 
 journment after adjournment because of certain sacred rites 
 and games during the celebration of which the courts could 
 not sit. All this was arranged for in tlie scheme ; but Cicero, 
 in order that he might baffle the schemers, got through his 
 preliminary work as quickly as possible, saying all that he 
 liad to say about tlie manner of the trial, about the judges, 
 about the scheme, but dilating very little on the iniquities 
 of tlie criminal. But liaving thus succeeded, having gained 
 his cause in a great measure by the unexpected quickness 
 of his operations, then he told his story. Then was made 
 that " perpetua oratio " by which we have learned the extent 
 to which a Roman governor could go on desolating a people 
 wlio were entrusted to his protection. Tin's full narration is 
 divided into five parts, each devoted to a separate class of 
 inif|uity. These were never spoken, though they appear in
 
 VERRES. 153 
 
 the form of speeches. They would have been spoken, if 
 required, in answer to the defence made by Hortensius on 
 behalf of Verres after the hearing of the evidence. But the 
 defence broke down altogether, in the fashion thus described 
 by Cicero himself " In that one hour in which I spoke " — 
 this was the speech which we designate as the " Actio prima 
 contra Yerrem," the first pleading made against Verres, to 
 which we shall come just now, — " I took away all hope of 
 bribing the judges from the accused, — from this brazen-faced, 
 rich, dissolute, and abandoned man. On the first day of the 
 trial, on the mere calling cf the names of the witnesses, the 
 people of Eome were able to perceive that, if this criminal 
 were absolved, then there could be no chance for the Ee- 
 public. On the second day his friends and advocates had 
 not only lost all hope of gaining their cause, but all relish 
 for going on with it. The third day so paralysed the man 
 himself that he had to bethink himself not what sort of 
 reply he could make, but how he could escape the necessity 
 of replying by pretending to be ill."^ It was in this way 
 that the trial was brought to an end. 
 
 But we must go back to the beginning. When an accu- 
 sation was to be made against some great Roman of the 
 day on account of illegal public misdoings, — as was to be 
 made now against Verres, — the conduct of the case, which 
 would require probably great labour and expense, and would 
 give scope for the display of oratorical excellence, was re- 
 garded as a task in which a young aspirant to public favour 
 might obtain honour, and. by which he might make himself 
 
 ^ lu Verrciu Actio Secuuda, lib. i. vii.
 
 154 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 known to the people. It had therefore come to pass that 
 there might be two or more accusers anxious to under- 
 take the work, and to show themselves off as solicitous on 
 behalf of injured innocence, or desirous of labouring in the 
 service of the Eepublic. When this was the case, a court of 
 judges was called upon to decide whether this man or that 
 other was most fit to perform the work in hand. Such a 
 trial was called " Divinatio," because the judges had to get 
 their lights in the matter as best they could, without the 
 assistance of witnesses, — by some process of divination ; with 
 the aid of the gods as it might be. Cicero's first speech in 
 the matter of Verres is called " In Quintum Csecilium Divi- 
 natio," because one Ctecilius came forward to take the case 
 away from him. Here was a part of the scheme laid by 
 Hortensius. To deal with Cicero in such a matter would 
 no doubt be awkward. His purpose, his diligence, his skill, 
 his eloquence, his honesty, were known. There must be a 
 trial. So much was acknowledged; but if the conduct of 
 it could be relegated to a man who was dishonest, or who 
 had no skill, no fitness, no special desire for success, then 
 the little scheme could be carried through in that way. 
 So Caicilius was put forward as Cicero's competitor, and 
 our first speech is that made by Cicero to prove his own 
 superiority to that of his rival. 
 
 "Whether Cajcilius was or was not hired to break down in 
 his assumed duty as accuser, we do not know. The biogra- 
 phers have agreed to say tliat such was the case,^ grounding 
 
 1 Plutarch Hays that Qucilius was an emancipated slave and a Jew, which 
 
 could not have liceu true as he was a Roman senator.
 
 VERMES. 155 
 
 their assertion, no doubt, on extreme probability. But I 
 doubt whether there is any evidence as to this. Cicero 
 himself brings this accusation, but not in that direct manner 
 which he would have used had he been able to prove it. 
 The Sicilians, at any rate, said that it was so. As to the 
 incompetency of the man, there was probably no doubt, — and 
 it might be quite as serviceable to have an incompetent as 
 a dishonest accuser. Csecilius himself had declared that 
 no one could be so fit as himself for the work. He knew 
 Sicily well, having been born there. He had been Quaestor 
 there with Verres, and had been able to watch the gover- 
 nor's doings. No doubt there was, — or had been in more 
 pious days, — a feeling that a Quaestor should never turn 
 against the Proconsul under whom he had served, and to 
 whom he had held the position almost of a son.^ But 
 there was less of that feeling now than heretofore. Verres 
 had quarrelled with his Quaestor. Oppius was called on 
 to defend himself against the Proconsul with whom he had 
 served. Ko one could know the doings of the governor of 
 a province as well as his own Quaestor ; and therefore, so 
 said Caecilius, he would be the preferable accuser. As to 
 his hatred of the man, there could be no doubt as to that. 
 Everybody knew that they had quarrelled. The purpose, 
 no doubt, was to give some colourable excuse to the judges for 
 rescuing Verres, the great paymaster, from the fangs of Cicero. 
 
 ^ De Oratore, lib. ii. c. xlix. The feeling is beautifully expressed in 
 the words put into the mouth of Antony in the discussion on the charms and 
 attributes of eloquence. "Qui mihi in liberum loco more majorum esse 
 deberet. "
 
 156 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Cicero's speech on tlie occasion, — which, as speeches went 
 in those days, was very short, — is a model of sagacity and 
 courao;e. He had to plead his own fitness, the unfitness of 
 his adversary, and the wishes in the matter of the Sicilians, 
 This had to be done with no halting phrases. Tt was not 
 simply his object to convince a body of honest men that, 
 with the view of settinfr at the truth, he would be the 
 better advocate of the two. We may imagine that there 
 was not a judge there, not a Eoman present, who was not 
 w^ell aware of that before the orator began. It was needed 
 that the absurdity of the comparison between them should 
 be declared so loudly that the judges would not dare to be- 
 tray the Sicilians and to liberate tire accused, by choosing 
 the incompetent man. When Cicero rose to speak, tliere 
 was probably not one of them of his own party, not a 
 Consul, a Praetor, an ^Edile, or a Qurestor, not a judge, not 
 a Senator, not a hanger-on about the courts, but was anxious 
 that A^erres with his plunder should escape. Their hope of 
 li\ ing upon the wealth of the provinces hung upon it. But 
 if he could speak winged words, words that should fly all 
 over Iiome, — that might fly also among subject nations, — 
 then would the judges not dare to carry out this portion 
 of the scheme. 
 
 " When," he says, " I liad served as Qux^stor in Sicily, and 
 had left the province after such a fashion that all the Sicilians 
 liad a gi'atfiCnl memory of my autliorily tlun'o, thougli they had 
 older friends on whom they rolled much, they felt that I 
 might be a bulwark to them in their need. These Sicilians, 
 harassed and robbed, have now come to mo, in public bodies,
 
 VERRES. 157 
 
 and have implored me to undertake their defence. * The time 
 has come/ they say, ' not that I should look after the interest 
 of this or that man, but that 1 should protect the very life 
 and well-being of the whole province.' I am inclined by my 
 sense of duty, by the faith which I owe them, by my pity 
 for them, by the example of all good Romans before me, by 
 the custom of the Republic, by the old constitution, to under- 
 take this task, not as pertaining to my own interests, but to 
 those of my close friends." ^ That was his own reason for 
 undertaking the case. Then he reminds the judges of what 
 the Roman people wished, — the people who had felt with 
 dismay the injury inflicted upon them by Sulla's withdrawal 
 of all power from the Tribunes and by the putting the whole 
 authority of the bench into the hands of the Senators. 
 " The Roman people, much as they have been made to suffer, 
 regret nothing of that they have lost so much as the strength 
 and majesty of the old judges. It is with the desire of 
 having them back that they demand for the Tribunes their 
 former power. It is this misconduct of the present judges 
 that has caused them to ask for another class of men for the 
 judgment-seat. By the fault and to the shame of the judges 
 of to-day, the Censor's authority, which has hitherto always 
 been regarded as odious and stern, even that is now requested 
 by the people." - Then he goes on to show that, if justice is 
 intended, this case wdll be put into the hands of him whom 
 the Sicilians have themselves chosen. Had the Sicilians said 
 that they were unwilling to trust their affairs to Cciecilius 
 because they had not known him, — but were willing to trust 
 
 ^ lu. Q. Ctec. Diviuatio, ca. ii. - Ibid, ca. iii.
 
 158 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 liim, Cicero, whom tliey did know, — would not even that have 
 been reasonable enough of itself? But the Sicilians had 
 known both of them, had known Csecilius almost as well as 
 Cicero, and had expressed themselves clearly. Much as 
 they desired to have Cicero, they were as anxious not to have 
 Csecilius. Even had they held their tongues about this, 
 everybody would have known it ; but they had been far from 
 holding their tongues. "Yet you offer yourself to these 
 most unwilling clients," he says, turning to Cascilius. " Yet 
 you are ready to plead in a cause that does not belong 
 to you ! Yet you would defend those who would rather 
 have no defender than such a one as you." ^ Then he attacks 
 Hortensius, the advocate for Verres. "Let him not think 
 that, if I am to be employed here, the judges can be bribed 
 without infinite danger to all concerned. In undertaking this 
 cause of the Sicilians, I undertake also the cause of the 
 people of Eome at large. It is not only that one wretched 
 sinner should be crushed which is what the Sicilians want, 
 but that this terrible injustice should be stopped altogether 
 in compliance with the wishes of the people." ^ When we 
 remember how this was spoken, in the presence of these 
 very judges, in the presence of Hortensius himself, in 
 reliance only on the public opinion which he was to create 
 by his own words, we cannot but acknowledge that it is very 
 iine. 
 
 After tiuit lie again turns upon C;ocilius. "Learn from 
 nio," lie says, " how many things are expected fi'om him who 
 undertakes the accusation of another. If there be one of 
 
 ' Diviii.itif), cii. vi. - Ibid. ca. viii. .
 
 VERRES. 159 
 
 those qualities in you, I will give up to you all tliat you 
 ask." ^ Csecilius was probably even now in alliance with 
 Verres. He himself, when Qusestor, had robbed the people 
 in the collection of the corn dues and was unable therefore 
 to include that matter in his accusation. " You can bring 
 no charge against him on this head, lest it be seen that you 
 were a partner with him in the business." ^ He ridicules 
 him as to his personal insufficiency. " What, Csecilius, as 
 to those practices of the profession without which an action 
 such as this cannot be carried on, — do you thiuk that there 
 is nothing in them ? Need there be no skill in the business, 
 no habit of speaking ; no familiarity with the Forum, with 
 the judgment seats, and the laws? " ^ "I know well how diffi- 
 cult the ground is. Let me advise you to look into it your- 
 self, and to see whether you are able to do that kind of 
 thing. Have you got voice for it, prudence, memory, wit ? 
 Are you able to expose the life of Yerres, as it must be done, 
 to divide it into parts and make everything clear? In 
 doing all this, though nature should have assisted you " — as it 
 has not at all is, of course, implied — " if from your earliest 
 childhood you had been imbued with letters; if you had 
 learned Greek at Athens instead of at Lilybgeum, — Latin in 
 Piome instead of in Sicily, still would it not be a task beyond 
 your strength to undertake such a case, so widely thought of, 
 to complete it by your industry, and then to grasp it in your 
 memory ; to make it plain by your eloquence, and to support 
 it with voice and strength sufficient ? " " Have I these gifts. 
 
 1 Divinatio, ca. ix. 2 w^i^^ ca. xi. 
 
 3 Ibid.
 
 160 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 you will ask. Would that I had ! But from my childhood 
 I have done all that I could to attain them." ^ 
 
 Cicero makes his points so well that I would fain go 
 through the whole speech, were it not that a similar reason 
 might induce me to give abridgments of all his speeches. 
 It may not be that the readers of these Orations will always 
 sympathise with the orator in the matter which he has in 
 liand, — though his power over words is so great as to carry 
 the reader with him very generally even at this distance 
 of time ; but the neatness with which the weapon is used, 
 the effectiveness of the thrust for the purpose intended, 
 the certainty with which the nail is hit on the head, — never 
 with an expenditure of unnecessary force but always with the 
 exact strength wanted for the purpose, — these are the char- 
 acteristics of Cicero's speeches which carry the reader on 
 with a delight which he will want to share with others, as a 
 man when he has heard a good story instantly wishes to tell 
 it again. And with Cicero we are charmed by the modern- 
 ness, by the tone of to-day, which his language takes. The 
 rapid way in which he runs from scorn to pity, from pity to 
 anger, from anger to public zeal, and then instantly to irony and 
 ridicule, implies a lightness of touch which, not unreasonably, 
 surprises us as having endured for so many hundred years. 
 That poetry should remain to us, — even lines so vapid as some 
 of those in whicli Ovid sang of love, — seems to be more natural 
 because verses, though they be light, must have been laboured. 
 r>ut these words, spoken by Cicero, seem almost to ring in 
 our ears as having come to us direct from a man's lips. We 
 
 1 Diviiuilio, ca. xii.
 
 VERRES. 161 
 
 see the anger galliering on the bvow of Hortenr-ius, followed 
 by a look of acknowledged defeat. We see the startled 
 attention of the judges as they began to feel that in this 
 case they must depart from their intended purpose. We can 
 understand how CcEcilius cowered and found consolation in 
 being relieved from his task. We can fancy how Verres 
 suffered, — Verres whom no shame could have touched, — 
 when all his bribes were becoming inefficient under the 
 hands of the orator. 
 
 Cicero was chosen for the task and then the real Avork 
 began. The work as he did it was certainly beyond the 
 strength of any ordinary advocate. It was necessary that 
 he should proceed to Sicily to obtain the evidence which was 
 to be collected over the whole island. He must rake up, too, 
 all the previous details of the life of this robber. He must 
 be thoroughly prepared to meet the schemers on every point. 
 He asked for a hundred and ten days for the purpose of 
 getting up his case, but he took only fifty. We must 
 imagine that as he became more thoroughly versed in the 
 intrigues of liis adversaries, new lights came upon him. 
 Were he to use the whole time allotted to him, or even half 
 the time, and then make such an exposition of the criminal 
 as he would delight to do were he to indulge himself with 
 that "perpetua oratio " of which we hear, then the trial 
 would be protracted till the coming of certain public games 
 during which the courts would not sit. There seem to havo 
 been three sets of games in his way, — a special set for this 
 year to be given by Pompey which were to last fifteen days. 
 Then theLudi Romani, which were continued for nine days. 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Soon after that would come the games in honour of Victor}^, 
 — so soon that an adjournment over them Avould be obtained 
 as a matter of course. In this ^Yay the trial would be thrown 
 over into the next year when Hortensius and one Metellus 
 would he Consuls, and another Metellus would be the 
 Prretor, controlling the judgment seats. Glabrio was the 
 Prsetor for this present year. In Glabrio Cicero could put 
 some trust. AVith Hortensius and the two Metelluses in 
 power, Verres would be as good as acquitted. Cicero 
 therefore had to be on the alert so that in this unexpected 
 way, by sacrificing his own grand opportunity for a speech, 
 lie might conquer the schemers. AVe hear how he went to 
 Sicily in a little boat, from an unknown port, so as to escape 
 the dangers contrived for him by the friends of Yerres. ^ If 
 it could be arranged that the clever advocate should be 
 kidnapped by a pirate what a pleasant way would that be of 
 putting an end to these abominable reforms ! Let them get 
 rid of Cicero, if only for a time, and the plunder might still 
 be divided. Against all this he had to provide. When in 
 Sicily he travelled sometimes on foot, for the sake of caution ; 
 never with the retinue to which he was entitled as a Eoman 
 Senator. As a Eoman Senator he might have demanded free 
 entertainment at any town he entered, to the great cost of the 
 
 ^ Actio Secunda, lili. ii. xl. IIo is speaking of Sthenios, and the ille- 
 gality of certain ]irooee(li7igs on the part of Verres against him. "If an 
 accused man could he condemned in the absence of the accuser do you think 
 that I would liavc gone in a little boat from Vibo to A^'elia among all the 
 dangers prepared for me by your fugitive slaves and pirates, — when I had to 
 hurry at the jiei'il of my life, knowing that you would escape if I were not 
 present to the (l;iy ? "
 
 VERRES. 163 
 
 town. I'ut from all tins he abstained, and hurried back to 
 Ivome with his evidence so quickly that he was enabled to 
 produce it before the judges so as to save the adjournments 
 whicli he feared. 
 
 A^erres retired from the trial, pleading guilty, after hearing 
 the evidence. Of the witnesses and of the manner in which 
 they told the story we have no account. The second speech 
 which we have, — the Divinatio or speech against Csecilius 
 bavins: been the first, — is called the "Actio Prima Contra 
 Verrera," — "the first process against Verres." This is almost 
 entirely confined to an exhortation to the judges. Cicero 
 had made up his mind to make no speech about Verres 
 till after the trial should be over. There would not be 
 the requisite time. The evidence he must bring forward. 
 And he would so appal these corrupt judges that they should 
 not dare to acquit the accused. This " Actio Prima " contains 
 tlie Avords in which he did appal the judges. As we read 
 them we pity the judges. There were fourteen whose names 
 we know. That there may have been many more is probable. 
 There was the Praetor Urbanus of the day, Glabrio. With 
 him were Metellus, one of the Prretors for the next year, 
 and Cffisonius who with Cicero liimself was iEdile designate. 
 There were three Tribunes of the people, and two military 
 Tribunes. There was a Servilius, a Catulus, a Marcellus. 
 AVhom among these he suspected we can hardly say. 
 Certainly he suspected Metellus. To Servilius ^ he paid an 
 ornate compliment in one of the written orations published 
 
 ^ Actio Sccimda, 1. xxi. 
 
 Ji 2
 
 164 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 after the trial was over, from whence we may suppose tliat 
 he was well inclined towards him. Of Glabrio he spoke 
 well. The body, as a body, was of such a nature that ho 
 found it necessary to appal them. It is thus that he begins. 
 "Not by human wisdom, oh ye judges, but by chance, and 
 by the aid as it were of the gods themselves, an event has 
 come to pass by which the hatred now felt for your order, 
 and the infamy attached to the judgment seat, may be 
 appeased. For an opinion has gone abroad, disgraceful to 
 the Eepublic, full of danger to yourselves, — which is in 
 the mouth of all men, not only here in Eome but through 
 all nations, — that by these courts as they are now consti- 
 tuted a man if he be only rich enough, will never be 
 condemned, — though he be ever so guilty." "What an 
 exordium with which to begin a forensic pleading before 
 a bench of Judges composed of Prretors, iEdiles, and 
 coming Consuls ! And this at a time too when men's 
 minds were still full of Sulla's power ; — when some were 
 thinking that they too might be Sullas ; — while the idea 
 was still strong that a few nobles ought to rule the Eoman 
 Empire for their own advantage and their own luxury ! 
 What words to address to a Mctellus, a Catulus, and a 
 Marcellus ! I have brought before you such a wretch, he 
 goes on to say, that by a just judgment upon him you 
 can recover your favour with the people of Eome, and your 
 credit with otlici' nations. "This is a trial in which you, 
 indeed, will ha\(' to judge this man who is accused, — but 
 ill wJiirli also the IJoiiiau pcoph", will have to judge you. 
 V>y what is dotic to him \\ill be determined whether a man
 
 VERRES. 105 
 
 •vvlio is guilty and at tlie same time rich, can possibly Le 
 condemned in liome.^ If tliC matter goes amiss liere, all 
 men will declare, not tliat Letter men should ])e selected 
 out of your order which would be impossible, but that 
 another order of citizens must be named from which to 
 select the judges."- This short speech was made. The 
 witnesses were examined during nine days. Then Hor- 
 tensius, with hardly a struggle at a rej^ly, gave way, and 
 A'erres stood condemned by his own verdict. 
 
 AVlien the trial was over and Yerres had consented to 
 go into exile and to pay whatever fine was demanded, the 
 "perpetua oratio " which Cicero thought good to make on 
 the matter was published to the world. It is written as 
 though it was to have been spoken, with counterfeit tricks 
 of oratory, — with some tricks so well done in the first part 
 of it as to have made me think that when these special 
 words were prepared, he must have intended to speak them. 
 It has been agreed, however, that such was not the case. 
 It consists of a narration of the villanies of Verres, and is 
 divided into what have been called five different speeches, 
 to which the following appellations are given. " De Praitura 
 urbana," in wliich w^e are told wdiat Yerres did when he was 
 city Praetor, — and very many things also which he did before 
 he came to that ofiice. " De Jurisdictione Siciliensi," in which 
 is described his conduct as a Pioman magistrate in the island. 
 " De Ee Frumentaria," setting forth the abomination of his 
 exactions in regard to the corn tax. " De Signis," detailing 
 
 1 In Ventin, Actio Piinia, xvi. * Ibid.
 
 166 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the robberies lie perpetrated in regard to statues and other 
 ornaments ; — and '•' De Suppliciis " giving an account of the 
 murders he committed and the tortures he inflicted. A 
 question is sometimes mooted in conversation whether or 
 no the general happiness of the world has been improved 
 by increasing civilisation. When the reader finds from 
 these stories as told by a leading Eoman of the day, how 
 men were treated under the Eoman oligarchy, — not only 
 Greek allies but Eomans also, — I think he will be inclined 
 to answ^er the question in favour of civilisation, 
 
 I can only give a few of the many little histories which 
 have been preserved for us in this "Actio Secunda;" but 
 perhaps these few may suffice to show how a great Eoman 
 officer could demean himself in his government, Of the 
 doings of Verres before he went to Sicily I will select two. 
 It became his duty on one occasion,- — a job which he seems 
 to have sought for purpose of rapine, — to go to Lampsacus, 
 a town in Asia, as lieutenant, or legate, for Dolabella, who 
 tlien had command in Asia. Lampsacus was on the Helles- 
 pjni, an allied town of specially good re})ute. Here he is put 
 up as a guest, with all the honours of a Eoman officer, at the 
 house of a citizen named Janitor. But he heard that another 
 citizen, one Philodamus, had a beautiful daughter, — an article 
 with which we must suppose that Janitor was not equally 
 well suj)]»!ie(l. Verres, determined to get at the lady, orders 
 that his creature Eubrius shall be quartered at the house of 
 i'hiludamus. l'hil(;daiiius, who iVom his rank was entitled 
 to be burdened only with the presence of leading Eomans, 
 grurnljles at this; but having grumbled consents, and having
 
 VERRES. 167 
 
 consented, does tlic best to make his Louse comfortable. He 
 gives a great supper at wliich the Eonians eat and drink 
 and purposely create a tumult. Verres, we understand, was 
 not there. The intention is that the girl shall be carried 
 away and brought to him. In the middle of their cups 
 the father is desired to produce his daughter. But this he 
 refuses to do. Eubrius then orders the doors to be closed, 
 and proceeds to ransack the house. Philodamus, who will 
 not stand this, fetches his son, and calls his fellow citizens 
 around him. liubrius succeeds in pouring boiling water 
 over his host, but in the row the Romans get the worst of it. 
 At last one of Verres's lictors, — absolutely a Eoraan lictor, — 
 is killed, and the woman is not carried off. The man at 
 least bore the outward signs of a lictor, but according to 
 Cicero, was in the pay of Verres as his pimp. 
 
 So far Verres fails, and the reader rejoicing at the 
 courage of the fiither who could protect his own house 
 even against Eomans, begins to feel some surprise that this 
 case should have been selected. So far the lieutenant 
 had not done the mischief he had intended. But he soon 
 avenges his failure. He induces Dolabella his chief to 
 liave Philodamus and his son carried off to Laodicea and 
 there tried before Nero, the then Proconsul, for killing 
 the sham lictor. They are tried at Laodicea before Nero, 
 Verres himself sitting as one of the judges, — and are 
 condemned. Then in the market-place of the town, in 
 the presence of each other, the father and son are be- 
 headed, a thing, as Cicero says, very sad for all Asia to 
 behold. All this had been done some years ago, and
 
 16S LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 nevertlieiess Yerres luicl Leen chosen rixetor and sent to 
 tSicily to govern the Sicilians. 
 
 AVhen Yerres was Piaitor at Eome, — the year before he 
 was sent to Sicily, — it became his duty, or rather privilege 
 as he found it, to see that a certain temple of Castor in 
 the city was given up in proper condition by the executors 
 of a defunct citizen who had taken a contract for keeping 
 it in repair. This man, whose name had been Junius, left 
 u son who was a Junius also, under age, with a large fortune 
 in charge of various trustees, — or tutors as they were called, 
 — whose duty it was to protect the lad's interests. Yerres 
 knowing of old that no property was so easily preyed on 
 as that of a minor, sees at once that something may be done 
 with the temple of Castor. The heir was rich, and to the 
 extent of his property he was bound to leave the edifice in 
 good repair. But Yerres, when he made the inspection, finds 
 everything to be in more than usually good order. There 
 is not a scratch on the roof of which he can make use. 
 Xothing has been allowed to go astray. Then " one of his 
 dogs," — for he had boasted to his friend Ligur that he always 
 went about with dogs to search out his game for him, — 
 suggested that some of the colunnis were out of the per- 
 pendicular. Yerres docs not know what this means; but 
 the dog exijlains. All colunnis arc in fact, by strict measure- 
 ment, more or less out of the perpendicular, as we are told 
 that all eyes scjuint a little tliougli we do not see that they 
 fcquint. ]Iut as colunnis ought to be perj)endicular here 
 was a mutlcr on which he might go to work. He does go 
 to work. The trustees knowing their man, — knowing also
 
 YE RUES. ir,9 
 
 that in the present condition of Home, it was impossible 
 to escape from an nnjust Praetor without paying largely, — 
 M'ent to his mistress and endeavoured to settle the matter 
 with her. Here we have an amusing picture of the way 
 in which the affairs of the city were carried on in that 
 lady's establishment ; — how she had her levee, took her 
 bribes, and drove a lucrative trade. Doing, however, no 
 good with her, the trustees settled with an agent to pay 
 A''erres two hundred thousand sesterces to drop the affair. 
 This was something under £2000. But Verres repudiated 
 the arrangement with scorn. He could do much better 
 than that with such a temple and such a minor. He puts 
 the repairs up to auction, and refusing a bid from the 
 trustees themselves, — the very persons who are the most 
 interested in (^ettino- the work done if there were Avork to 
 do, — has it knocked down to himself for five hundred aiid 
 sixty thousand sesterces, or about £5000.^ Then we are told 
 how he had the pretended work done by the putting up 
 of a rough crane. ISTo real work is done; no new stones 
 are brought ; iio money is spent. That is the way in which 
 Verres filled his ofiice as Praetor urbanus ; but it does not 
 seem that any public notice is taken of his iniquities as long 
 as he confined himself to little jobs such as this. 
 
 Then we come to the affairs of Sicily, — and the long 
 list of robberies is commenced by which that province 
 was made desolate. It seems that nothincj rave so ^rand 
 
 ^ We are to understand that the purchaser at the auction having named 
 the sum for which lie would do the work, the estate of the minor who was 
 responsible for the condition of the temple, was saddled with that amount.
 
 170 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 a scope to tlie greed of a public functionary who was at 
 tlie same time governor and judge as disputed wills. It 
 was not necessary tliat any of tlie persons concerned should 
 dispute the will among them. Given the facts that a man 
 had died and left property behind him, then Verres would 
 hnd means to drag the heir into Court and either frighten 
 him into payment of a bribe or else rob him of his inherit- 
 ance. Before he left Rome for the province he heard 
 that a large fortune had been left to one Dio on condition 
 that he should put up certain statues in the market-place.^ 
 It was not uncommon for a man to desire the reputation 
 of adorning his own city, but to choose that the expense 
 should be borne by his heir rather than by himself. 
 Failing to put up the statues the heir w^as required to 
 pay a fine to Venus Erycina, — to enrich, that is, the 
 worship of that goddess who had a favourite temple under 
 Mount Eryx. The statues had been duly erected. But, 
 nevertheless, here there was an opening. So Verres goes to 
 work and in the name of Venus brings an action against 
 I)io. The verdict is given, not in favour of A''enus but in 
 i'avour of Verres. 
 
 This manner of paying honour to the gods, and especially 
 to Venus, was common in Sicily. Two sons ^ received a 
 fortune from their father with a condition that if some 
 special thing were not done a fine should be paid to 
 Venus. 'J'lic nmu had been dead twenty years ago. But 
 "the dogs" wliich tlie I'lirlor ke])t were very sharp and, 
 
 1 In Verrein, Actio .ScciiikIm, lib. ii. vii. ^ jjjij. jx.
 
 VEERES. 171 
 
 distant as was the time, found out the chmse. Action 
 is taken against the two sons, who, indeed gain their 
 case ; hut they gain it by a bribe so enormous that they 
 are ruined men. There was one Heraclius ^ tlie son of 
 Hiero, a nobleman of Syracuse, who received a legacy 
 amounting to 3,000,000 sesterces — we will say £24,000, 
 — from a relative, also an Heraclius. He had, too, a 
 house full of handsome silver plate, silk and hangings, 
 and valuable slaves. A man, " Dives equom, dives pictai 
 vestis at auri." Verres heard of course. He had by this 
 time taken some Sicilian dogs into his service, men of 
 Syracuse, and had learned from them that there was a 
 clause in the will of the elder Heraclius that certain 
 statues should be put up in the gymnasium of the city. 
 They undertake to bring forward servants of the gymnasium 
 who should say that the statues were never properly erected, 
 Cicero tells us how Verres went to work, now in this court, 
 now in that, breaking all the laws as to Sicilian jurisdiction, 
 but still proceeding under the pretence of law till he got 
 everything out of the wretch, — not only all the legacies 
 from Heraclius, but every shilling and every article left 
 to the man by his father. There is a pretence of giving 
 some of the money to the town of Syracuse, but for himself 
 he takes all the valuables, the Corinthian vases, the purple 
 hangings, — what slaves he chooses. Then everything else 
 is sold by auction. How he divided the spoil with the 
 Syracusans, and then quarrelled with them, and how he 
 
 ^ In Verrem, Actio Socuuda, lib. ii. xiv.
 
 172 LIFE OF C ICE no. 
 
 lied as to the share taken by himself, will all he found 
 in Cicero's narrative. Heraclius "was of course ruined. 
 Tor the stories of Epicrates and Sopater I must refer 
 the reader to the oration. In that of Sopater there is 
 the peculiarity that Verres managed to get paid hy every- 
 body all round. The story of Sthenius is so interesting 
 that I cannot pass it by. Sthenius Avas a man of wealth 
 and high standing living at Therma in Sicily, with whom 
 Yerres often took up his abode. For as governor he 
 travelled much about the island, always in pursuit of 
 plunder. Sthenius had had his house full of beautiful 
 things. Of all these Verres possessed himself, some by 
 begging, some by demanding, and some by absolute robbery. 
 Sthenius, grieved as he was to find himself pillaged, bore 
 all this. The man was Eoman Praetor and injuries such 
 as these had to be endured. At Therma, however in the 
 ]jublic place of the city, there were some beautiful statues. 
 I'or these Verres longed and desired his host to get them 
 ibr him. Sthenius declared that this was impossible. The 
 statues had under peculiar circumstances been recovered 
 by Scipio Africanus from Carthage, and been restored 
 by the Roman General to the Sicilians from whom they 
 liad been taken, and had been erected at Therma. There 
 was a peculiarly beautiful figure of Stesichorus the poet, 
 as an <jld man Ix/nt double, with a book in his liand; — 
 a very glorious woi'k of art. And there was a goat, — 
 in bion/.e probably, as to which Cicero is at the pains 
 of telling fls that oven he, unskilled as ho was in such 
 matters, could see its charms. Ko one had sharper eyes
 
 VERRES. ■ 173 
 
 for such pretty ornaments than Cicero or a more decided 
 taste for them. But as Plortensius his rival and opponent 
 in this case had talvcn a marble sphynx from Verres, he 
 thought it expedient to show how superior he was to 
 such matters. There was probably something of. joke in 
 this, as his predilections would no doubt be known to 
 those he was addressing.^ 
 
 In the matter Sthenius was incorruptible, and not even 
 the Praetor could carry them away without his aid. Cicero 
 who is very warm in praise of Sthenius declares that 
 " here at last Verres had found one town, the only one 
 in the world, from which he was unable to carry away 
 something of the public property, by force, or stealth, 
 or open command, or favour." ^ The governor was so 
 disgusted with this that he abandoned Sthenius, leaving 
 the house which he had plundered of everything and betook 
 himself to that of one Agathinus who had a beautiful 
 daughter Callidama who with her husband, Dorotheas, 
 lived with her father. They were enemies of Sthenius, 
 and we are given to understand that Verres ingratiated 
 himself with them partly for the sake of Callidama, who 
 seems very quickly to have been given up to liini,^ and 
 partly that he might instigate them to bring actions against 
 Sthenius. This is done with great success, — so that Sthenius 
 is forced to run away and betake himself, winter as it was, 
 
 ^ See Appendix C. " In Verrem, Actio Secunda, lib. ii. ca. xxxvi. 
 
 ^ Ibid. "Una nox intercesserat, quam iste Dorotlienm sic diligebat, lit 
 diceres, omnia inter eos esse conimuuia," — wife and all. "Iste" always 
 means Verres in these narratives.
 
 174 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 across the seas to Rome. It has already been told that 
 when he was at Rome an action was brought against him 
 by Yerres for having run away when he was under judgment, 
 in which Cicero defended him and in which he was acquitted. 
 In the teeth of his acquittal Verres persecuted the man by 
 every form of law which came to his hands as Praetor, 
 but always in opposition- to the law. There is an audacity 
 about the man's proceedings, in his open contempt of 
 the laws, which it Avas his special duty to carry out, 
 making us feel how confident he was that he could carry 
 everything before him in Rome by means of his money. 
 By robbery and concealing his robberies, by selling his 
 judgments in such a way that he should maintain some 
 reticence by ordinary precaution, he might have made 
 much money, as other governors had done. But he 
 resolved that it would pay him better to rob every- 
 where openly, and then, when the day of reckoning came, 
 to buy the judges wholesale. As to shame at such doings 
 there was no such feelings left among Romans. 
 
 Before he comes to the story of Sthenius Cicero makes 
 a grandly ironical appeal to the bench before him. " Yes ; 
 O judges, keep this man ; keep him in the State ! Spare 
 him; preserve him so that he too may sit with us as a 
 judge here, so that he too may with impartiality advise 
 us, as a Senator, what may be best for us as to peace and 
 war ! Not tliat we need trouble ourselves as to his sena- 
 torial duties. His authority wouhl be nothing. When 
 would he dare or when would he care to come among us ? 
 Unless it might 1)C in the idle montli of rcbruary, when
 
 VERRES. ] 75 
 
 would a man so idle, so debauclied, show liiiiiself in tlie 
 Senate House ? Let him come and show himself. Let 
 him advise us to attack the Cretans, — to pronounce tlie 
 Greeks of Byzantium free ; to declare Ptolemy King.'^ 
 Let him speak and vote as Hortensius may direct. This 
 will have but little effect upon our lives or our property. 
 But beyond this there is something we must look to, 
 something that would be distrusted, something that every 
 good man has to fear ! If by chance this man should 
 escape out of our hands, he would have to sit there upon 
 that bench and be a judge. He would be called upon to 
 pronounce on the lives of a Koman citizen. He would 
 be the right hand officer in the army of this man hcre,^ 
 of this man who is striving to be the lord and ruler of 
 our judgment seats. The people of Lome at least refuse 
 tliis ! This at least cannot be endured ! " 
 
 The third of these narratives tells us how Verres managed 
 in his Province that provision of corn for the use of Pome, 
 the collection of which made the possession of Sicily so 
 important to the Romans. He begins with telling his 
 readers, — as he does too frequently, — how great and peculiar 
 is the task he has undertaken, and he uses an argument 
 of which we cannot but admit the truth, though we doubt 
 
 ^ These were biirning political questions of the moment. It was &s though 
 an advocate of our daj's should desire some disgraced member of Parliament 
 to go down to the house and assist the government in protecting Turkey in 
 Asia and invading Zululand. 
 
 2 " Sit in ejus fxercitii'signifer." Tlie "ejus " was Hortensius, the coming 
 Consul, to -whom Cicero intended to be considered as pointing. For tlie 
 passage, see In Verrem, Actio Secunda, lib. ii. xxxi.
 
 175 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 whether auy modern advocate would dare to put it forward. 
 We must remember, however, that Romans were not accus- 
 tomed to be shamefaced in praising themselves. What 
 Cicero says of himself, all others said also of themselves. 
 Only Cicero could say it better than others. He reminds 
 us that he who accuses another of any crime is bound to 
 be especially free from that crime himself. " Would you 
 cliarge any one as a thief? You must be clear from any 
 suspicion of even desiring another man's property. " Have 
 you brought a man up for malice or cruelty ? Take care 
 that you be not found hard-hearted. Have you called a 
 man a seducer or an adulterer ? Be sure that your own 
 life shows no trace of such vices. Whatever you Avould 
 punish in another, that you must avoid yourself. A public 
 accuser would be intolerable, or even a caviller, who should 
 inveigh against sins for which he himself is called in question. 
 Lut in this man I find all wickednesses combined. There 
 is no lust, no iniquity, no shamelessness of which his life 
 does not supply us with ample evidence." The nature of the 
 difficulty to which Cicero is thus subjected is visible enough. 
 As Verres is all that is bad, so must he, as accuser, be all 
 that is good ; — wliich is more, we should say, than any 
 man would choose to declare of himself! But he is equal 
 to the occasion. "In regard to tliis man, judges, I lay 
 down for myself the law as I have stated it. I must so 
 live tliat I must clearly seem to bo, and always have been, 
 the very opposit(! of tliis man, not only in my words and 
 deeds, but as to that armgancc and iniiiudence wliieh you 
 see in him." Then he shows how oi)positc he is to Verres,
 
 VERRES. 177 
 
 at any rate in impudence ! " I am not sorry to see," he 
 goes on to say, " that that life which has always been the 
 life of my own choosing, has now been made a necessity 
 to me by the law which I have laid down for myself."^ 
 Mr. Pecksniff spoke of himself in the same way, but no 
 one I think believed him. Cicero probably was believed. 
 But the most wonderful thing is that his manner of life 
 justified what he said of himself. When others of his 
 own order were abandoned to lust, iniquity and shame- 
 lessness, he lived in purity, with clean hands, doing good 
 as far as was in his power to those around him. A laugh 
 will be raised at Ids expense in regard to that assertion of 
 his that even in the matter of arrogance his conduct should 
 be the opposite of that of Yerres. But this will come 
 because I have failed to interpret accurately the meaning 
 of those words " oris oculorumque ilia contumacia ac superbia 
 quam videtis." Verres, as we can understand, had carried 
 himself during the trial with a bragging, brazen, bold face, 
 determined to show no shame as to his own doings. It 
 is in this, which was a matter of manner and taste, that 
 Cicero declares that he will be the man's opposite as well 
 as in conduct. As to the ordinary boastings, by which 
 it has to be acknowledged that Cicero sometimes disgusts 
 his readers, it will be impossible for us to receive a just 
 idea of his character without remembering that it was 
 the custom of a Eoman to boast. AVe wait to have good 
 things said of us, — or are supposed to wait. The Eoman 
 
 ^ In Verrem, Act. st;cuiida, lib. iii. 11. 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 said tliem of himself. The "veni, vidi, \'ici" was the 
 ordinary mode of expression in those times, — and in 
 earlier times among the Greeks.^ This is distasteful to 
 us, — and it will probably be distasteful to those who 
 come after us, two or three hundred years hence, that 
 this or that British Statesman should have made himself 
 an Earl or a Knight of the Garter. Now it is thought by 
 many to be proper enough. It will shock men in future days 
 that great peers or rich commoners should have bargained for 
 ribands and lieutenancies and titles. Now it is the way 
 of the time. Though virtue and vice may be said to 
 remain the same from all time to all time, the latitudes 
 allowed and the deviations encouraged in this or the 
 other age must be considered before the character of a 
 man can be discovered. The boastings of Cicero have 
 been preserved for us. We have to bethink ourselves 
 that his words are 2,000 years old. There is such a 
 touch of humanity in them, such a feeliug of latter day 
 civilisation and almost of Christianity, that we are apt to 
 condemn what remains in them of paganism as though 
 
 ^ "Exegi monumcntum fere perennius," said Horace gloriously. "Sum 
 pins iEneas " is Virgil's expression, put into the mouth of his hero. " Ipse 
 Menalcas," said Virgil himself. Homer and iSophocles introduce their heroes 
 with self-sounded trumpetings ; — 
 
 Elfu' '"O'Svffffivs AaepTidS-rji os tucti 8u\oL(Ti 
 'AvOpwTToicrt fxfhw, Kol f/.(u k\('os ovpavov iKfi. 
 
 Odyssey, ]5ook ix. 19 and 20. 
 
 'O TTum /(Xiifus 0(5i7roi/5 KaXov^fvos. 
 
 U'ldipus Tyranuus, 8.
 
 VERRES. 179 
 
 they were uttered yesterday. When we come to the 
 coarseness of his attacks, his descriptions of Piso Ijy 
 and by, his abuse of Gabinius and his invectives against 
 Anton)^, when we read his altered opinions as shown in 
 the period of Ctesar's dominion, his flattery of Csesar when 
 in power and his exultations when Csesar has been killed, 
 when we find that he could be coarse in his language aud 
 a bully, and servile, for it has all to be admitted, — we 
 have to reflect under what circumstances, under what 
 surroundings, and for what object, were used the words 
 which displease us. Speaking before the full court at this 
 trial he dared to say he knew how to live as a man and 
 to carry himself as a gentleman. As men and gentlemen 
 were then, he was justified. 
 
 The description of Verres' rapacity in regard to the corn 
 tax is long and complex, and need hardly be followed at 
 length unless by those who desire to know how the iniquity 
 of such a one could make the most of an imposition which 
 was in itself very bad, and pile up the burden till the 
 poor Province was unable to bear it. There were three 
 kinds of imposition as to corn. The first called the 
 " Decumanum " was simply a tithe. The producers througli 
 the island had to furnish Piome with a tenth of their 
 produce, and it was the Praetor's duty, — or rather that of the 
 Quaestor under the Praetor, — to see that the tithe was 
 collected. How Verres saw to this himself, and how he 
 treated the Sicilian husbandmen in regard to the tithe is 
 so told that we are obliged to give the man credit for an 
 
 N 2
 
 180 , LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 infinite fertility of resources. Then there is the "Emptum," 
 — or corn bought for the use of Eome, of which there were 
 two kinds. A second tithe had to be furnished at a price 
 fixed by the Eoman Senate, wdiich price w^as considered 
 to be below that of its real value, and then 800,000 bushels 
 were purchased, or nominally purchased, at a price which 
 w^as also fixed by the Senate but which was nearer to the 
 real value. Three sesterces a bushel for the first, and four 
 for the last, were the prices fixed at this time. For making 
 these payments vast sums of money were remitted to Verres, 
 of which the accounts were so kept that it was hard to say 
 whether any found its way into the hands of the farmers 
 who undoubtedly furnished the corn. The third corn tax 
 was the " jTestimatum." Tliis consisted of a certain fixed 
 quantity which had to be supplied to the Prretor for the 
 use of his governmental establishment, — to be supplied either 
 in grain or in money. What such a one as Verres would 
 do with his the reader may conceive. 
 
 All this was of vital importance to Eome. Sicily and 
 Africa were tlie granaries from M'hicli Home was supplied 
 Avith its bread. To get supplies from a Province was necessary. 
 Itich men have servants in order that they may live at ease 
 themselves. So it was w-ith the Ptomaus to whom the 
 Provinces acted as servants. It was necessary to have 
 a sharp agent, some I'roconsul or Proprietor, — but when 
 there came one so sharp as Verres all power of re-creating 
 supplies would lur a time be destroyed. 1^1 ven Cicero boasted 
 tliat in a tiin(; ol' great scarcity, he, being then Quaestor in
 
 YERRES. ISl 
 
 Sicily, had sent extraordinary store of corn over to the city.^ 
 But he had so done it as to satisfy all who were concerned. 
 
 Verres in his corn dealings with the Sicilians had a certain 
 friend, companion, and minister, — one of his favourite dogs 
 perhaps we may call him, — named Apronius, whom Cicero 
 specially describes. The description I must give because it 
 is so powerful, because it shows us how one man could in 
 those days speak of another in open court before all the 
 world, because it affords us an instance of the intensity of 
 hatred which the orator could throw into his words ; — but 
 I must hide it in the original language, as I could not 
 translate it without offence.- 
 
 Then w^e have a book devoted, to the special pillage of 
 statues and other ornaments which for the genius displayed 
 in story -telling is perhaps of all the Verrine orations the most 
 amusing. The Greek people had become in a peculiar way 
 
 ^ Pro Plancio, xxvi. " Frumenti in summa caritate maximum niimerum 
 miseram ; negotiatoribus comis, mercatoribus Justus, municipibus liberalis, 
 sociis abstinens, omnibus eram visus in omni officio diligentissimus." 
 
 * In Verrem, Act, secunda, lib. iii. ix. "Is erit Apronius ille ; qui, ut ipsi". 
 non solum vita, sed etiam corpore atque ore significat, immensa aliqua vcrago 
 est ac gurges vitiorum turpitudinumi|ue omnium, Hunc in omnibus stupris, 
 hunc in fanoruni expilationibus, hunc in iinpuris conviviis principem adhib- 
 ebat ; tantamque habebat morum similitudo conjunctionem atque concordiam, 
 ut Apronius, qui aliis inhumanus ac barbarus, isti uni commodus ac disertus 
 videretur ; ut quem omues odissent neque videre vellent sine eo iste esse 
 non posset ; ut quum alii ne conviviis quidem iisdem, quibus Apronius, bic 
 iisdem etiam poculis uteretur ; postremc, ut, odor Apronii teterrimus oris ft 
 corporis, quem, ut aiunt, ne bestiiE qindem ferre possent, uni isti suavis et 
 j ucundus videretur. Ille erat in tribunal! proximus ; in cubiculo socius ; in 
 convivio dominus ; ac tum maxime, quum, accubante prnstextato pr;X3toris 
 tllio, in convivio saltare nndiis rreperat, "
 
 182 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 devoted to what we generally call Art. AVe are much given 
 to the collecting of pictures, china, bronze and marbles, partly 
 from love of such things, partly from pride in ornamenting 
 our houses so as to excite the admiration of others, partly 
 from a feeling that money so invested is not badly placed 
 with a view to future returns. All these feelings operated 
 with the Greeks to a much greater extent. Investments in 
 Consols and railway shares were not open to them. ]\Ioney 
 they used to lend at usury no doubt, but with a great chance 
 of losing it. The Greek colonists were industrious, were 
 covetous, and prudent. From this it had come to pass that 
 as they made their way about the world, — to the cities which 
 they established round the Mediterranean, — they collected 
 in their new homes great store of ornamental wealth. This 
 was done with much profusion at Syracuse, a Greek city 
 in Sicily, and spread from them over the whole island. The 
 temples of the gods were filled with the works of the great 
 Greek artists, and every man of note had his gallery. That 
 Verres, — hog as he is described to have been, — had a passion 
 for these things, is manifest to us. He came to his death 
 at last in defence of some favourite images. He had returned 
 to Home by means of Carsar's anmesty, and Marc Antony 
 had him murdered because he would not surrender some 
 treasures of art. When we read the "De Signis," about 
 Statues, we are led to imagine that the search after these 
 things was the cliiuf object of the man throughout his three 
 years of office, — as we have before been made to suppose 
 that all liis mind and time liad been devoted to the cheating 
 u[ tlic Sicilians in the matter of corn. But though Verres 
 
 I
 
 VERRES. 183 
 
 loved these trinkets, it was not altogether for himself that 
 he sought them. Only one-third of his plunder was for 
 himself. Senators, judges, advocates, Consuls, and Praetors 
 could be bribed with articles of vertu as well as with 
 money. 
 
 There are eleven separate stories told of these robberies. 
 I will give very shortly the details of one or two. There 
 was one Marcus Heius, a rich citizen of Messana, in whose 
 house Verres took great delight. Messana itself was very 
 useful to him, and the Mamertines, as the people of Messana 
 were called, were his best friends in all Sicily. For he made 
 Messana the depot of his plunder, and there he caused to 
 be built at the expense of the Government an enormous 
 ship called the " Cybea," ^ in which his treasures were carried 
 out of the island. He therefore specially favoured Messana, 
 and the district of Messana was supposed to have been 
 scourged by him with lighter rods than those used else- 
 where in Sicily. But this man Heius had a chapel, very 
 sacred, in which were preserved four specially beautiful 
 images. There was a Cupid by Praxiteles, and a bronze 
 Hercules by Myro, and two Cancephrte by Polycletus. These 
 were treasures which all the world came to see, and which 
 were open to be seen by all the world. These Verres took 
 away, and caused accounts to be forged in which it was 
 made to appear that he had bought them for trilling sums. 
 
 ^ A great deal is said of the "Cybea" in tliis and the last speech. The 
 money expended on it was passed through the accounts as though the ship 
 had been built for the defence of the island from pirates, but it was intended 
 solely for the depository of the Governor's plunder.
 
 184 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 It seems that some forced assent had been obtained from 
 Heius as to the transaction. Now there was a plan in 
 vogue for making things pleasant for a Proconsul retiring 
 from his government, in accordance with which a deputation 
 would proceed from the Province to Ptome to declare how 
 well and kindly the Proconsul had behaved in his govern- 
 ment. The allies, even when they had been as it were 
 skinned alive by their Governor, were constrained to send 
 their deputations. Deputations were got up in Sicily from 
 Messana and Syracuse, — and with the others from Messana 
 came this man Heius. Heius did not wish to tell about 
 his statues. But he was asked questions and was forced to 
 answer. Cicero informs us how it all took place. " He was 
 a man," he said, — this is what Cicero tells us that Heius said, 
 — " who was well esteemed in his own country, and would 
 wish you" — you judges — "to think well of his religious 
 spirit and of his personal dignity. He had come here to 
 praise Verres because he had been required to do so by his 
 fellow citizens. He, however, had never kept things for 
 sale in his own house, and had he been left to himself 
 nothing would have induced lum to part with the sacred 
 images Avhicli had been left to him by his ancestors as 
 the ornaments of his own chapel.^ Nevertheless, he had 
 come to praise Verres, and would have held his tongue had 
 it been possible." 
 
 Cicero finishes his catalogue by tolling us of the manifold 
 robberies conimiltcd by Verres in Syracuse, especially from 
 
 ' In Vcrrera, Actio sccuikIm, lili. iv. vlL
 
 VERRES. 185 
 
 the temples of the gods, and he begins his account of the 
 Syracusan iniquities by drawing a parallel between two 
 Eomans whose names were well known in that city. 
 Marcellus who had besieged it as an enemy and taken 
 it, and Verres who had been sent to govern it in peace. 
 Marcellus had saved the lives of the Syracusans. Verres 
 had made the Forum to run with their blood. The harbour 
 which had held its own against Marcellus, — as we may read 
 in our Livy, — had been wilfully opened by Verres to Cilician 
 pirates. This Syracuse which had been so carefully pre- 
 served, by its Eoman conqueror, the most beautiful of all 
 the Greek cities on the face of the earth, — so beautiful that 
 Marcellus had spared to it all its public ornaments, — had 
 been stripped bare by Verres. There was the temple of 
 Minerva from which he had taken all the pictures. There 
 were doors to this temple of such beauty that books had been 
 written about them. He stripped the ivory ornaments from 
 them and the golden balls with which they had been made 
 splendid. He tore off from them the head of the Gorgon 
 — and carried it aw^ay, — leaving them to be rude doors, Goth 
 that he was ! 
 
 And he took the Sappho from the Prytaneum, the work 
 of Silanion ! a thing of such beauty that no other man can 
 have the like of it in his own private house ; yet Verres has 
 it, — a man hardly fit to carry such a work of art as a burden, 
 not possess it as a treasure of his own. "What too!" he 
 says, " have you not stolen Paan from the temple of 
 iEsculapius, a statue so remarkable for its beauty, so well- 
 known for the worship attached to it, that "all the world
 
 186 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 lias been wout to visit it. "What ! has not the image of 
 Aristieus been taken by you from the temple of Bacchus ? 
 Have you not even stolen the statue of Jupiter Imperator, 
 so sacred in the eyes of all men, — that Jupiter which the 
 Greeks call Ourios ? You have not hesitated to rob the 
 temple of Proserpine of the lovely head in Parian marble." ^ 
 Then Cicero speaks of the worship due to all these gods as 
 though he himself believed in their godhead. As he had 
 begun this chapter with the Mamertines of Messana, so he 
 ends it with an address to them. " It is well that you 
 should come, you alone out of all the Provinces and praise 
 Verres here in Eome. But what can you say for him? Was 
 it not your duty to have built a ship for the Pepublic ? You 
 have built none such, but have constructed a huge private 
 transport vessel for Verres. Have you not been exempted 
 from your tax on corn ? Have you not been exempted in 
 regard to naval and military recruits ? Have you not been 
 the receptacle of all his stolen goods ? They will have to 
 confess, these Mamertines, that many a ship laden with his 
 spoils has left their port, and especially this huge transport 
 ship which they built for him ! " 
 
 In the De Suppliciis, — the treatise about punishments, as 
 tlie last division of this process is called, — Cicero teUs the 
 world how Verres exacted vengeance from those who were 
 opposed to liim, and wiili wluii lioriid cruelty he raged against 
 his enemies. The stories indeed are very dreadful. It 
 is harrowing to think tliat so evil a man should have been 
 invested witb ]»()\\'('rs so gi-eat for so bad a purpose. But 
 
 ^ In Vcnriii, Actio sccun<la, lili. iv. Ivii.
 
 VEERES. 1A7 
 
 that which strikes a modern reader most is the sanctity 
 attached to the name of a Roman citizen, and the audacity 
 with which the Roman Proconsul disregarded that sanctity. 
 " Gives Romanus," is Cicero's cry from the beginning to tlie 
 end. ISTo doubt he is addressing himself to Romans, and 
 seeking popularity as he always did. But nevertheless, the 
 demands made upon the outside world at large by the glory 
 of that appellation are astonishing, even when put forward 
 on such an occasion as this. One Gavius escapes from a 
 prison in Syracuse, and, making his way to Messana, foolishly 
 boasts that he would be soon over in Italy, out of the way 
 of Prsetor Verres and his cruelties. Verres unfortunately 
 is in Messana, and soon hears from some of his friends, the 
 Mamertines, what Gavius was saying. lie at once orders 
 Gavius to be flogged in public. " Gives Romanus sum," 
 exclaims Gavius, no doubt truly. It suits Verres to pretend 
 to disbelieve this, and to declare that the man is a runagate 
 slave. The poor wretch still cries " Gives Romanus," and 
 trusts alone to that appeal. Whereupon Verres puts up a 
 cross on the sea-shore, and has the man crucified in sight 
 of Italy, so that he shall be able to see the country of which 
 he is so proud. Whether he had done anything to deserve 
 crucifixion, or flogging, or punishment at all, we are not 
 told. The accusation against Verres is not for crucifying 
 the man, but for crucifying the Roman. It is on this occa- 
 sion that Gicero uses the words which have become pro- 
 verbial as to the iniquity of this proceeding.^ During the 
 
 ^ In Verrem, Actio secunda, lib. v. Ix^n. "Facinus est vinciri civem Roman - 
 um ; scelus verberari ; prope parricidium uecari ; cpud dicani iu cruceni tollere I "
 
 188 • LIFE OF C ICE no. 
 
 telling of this story he explains this doctrine, claiming for 
 the Eonian citizen, all the world over, some such protection 
 as Freemasons are supposed to give each other, whether 
 known or unknown. " Men of straw," he says, " of no 
 special birth, go about the world. They resort to places 
 they have never seen before, where they know none and 
 none know them. Plere, trusting to their claim solely, 
 they feel themselves to be safe, not only where our magis- 
 trates are to be found who are bound both by law and by 
 opinion, not only among other Eoman citizens who speak 
 their language and follow the same customs ; — but abroad, 
 over the whole world, they find this to be sufficient pro- 
 tection." ' Then he goes on to say that if any Prastor may 
 at his will put aside this sanctity, all the provinces, all the 
 kingdoms, all the free states, all the world abroad, will very 
 soon lose the feeling. 
 
 But the most remarkable story is that told of a certain 
 pirate captain. Verres had been remiss in regard to the 
 pirates, — very cowardly indeed, if we are to believe Cicero. 
 Piracy in the Mediterranean was at that time a terrible 
 drawback to trade, that piracy that a year or two afterwards 
 Pompey was effectual in destroying. A governor in Sicily 
 had, among other special duties, to keep a sharp look-out 
 for the pirates. This Verres omitted so entirely that these 
 scourges of tlie sea soon learned tliat they might do almost 
 as they pleased on the Sicilian coasts. Ihit it came to pass 
 lliat on one day a pirate vessel fell by accident into the 
 
 ^ In Vcrrpin, Aclio sccuikLi, lil). v, Ixv.
 
 YERRES. 189 
 
 liauds of the goveniur's officers. It was not taken, Cicero 
 says, but was so overladen tliat it was picked up almost 
 sinking.^ It was found to be full of fine handsome men, 
 of silver both plated and coined, and of precious stuffs. 
 Though not " taken " it was " found," and carried into 
 Syracuse. Syracuse is full of the news, and the first 
 demand is that the pirates, according to lloman custom, 
 shall all be killed. But this does not suit Verres. The 
 slave markets of the lioman Empire are open, and there are 
 men among the pirates whom it will suit him better to 
 sell than to kilL There are six musicians, " symphoniacos 
 homines," whom he sends as a present to a friend at Piome. 
 But the people of Syracuse are very much in earnest. They 
 are too sharp to be put off with pretences, and they count the 
 number of slaughtered pirates. There are only some useless, 
 M'eak, ugly, old fellows beheaded from day to day, and 
 being well aware how many men it must have taken to 
 row and manage such a vessel, they demand that the full 
 crew shall be brought to the block. " There is nothing in 
 victory more sweet," says Cicero, " no evidence more sure, 
 than to see those whom you did fear, but have now got the 
 better of, brought out to tortures or death." - Verres is so 
 much frightened by the resolution of the citizens that he 
 does not dare to neglect their wishes. There are, lying in 
 the prisons of Syracuse, a lot of prisoners, Eoman citizens, 
 of whom he is glad to rid himself. He has them brought 
 
 ^ In Verrem, Actio seciiuda, lib. v. xsv. " Ouere suo jilane captani atque 
 depressam." 
 2 Ibid xxvi.
 
 190 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 out, with tlieir heads wrapped up so that they shall not be 
 known, and has them beheaded instead of the pirates ! A 
 great deal is said, too, about the pirate captain, the arch- 
 pirate as he is called. There seems to have been some money 
 dealings personally between him and Verres, on account of 
 which Verres kept him hidden. At any rate the arch-pirate 
 was saved. " In such a manner this celebrated victory is 
 managed.^ The pirate ship is taken and the chief pirate is 
 allowed to escape. The musicians are sent to Eome. The 
 men who are good-looking and young are taken to the 
 Prsetor's house. As many Eoman citizens as will fill their 
 places are carried out as public enemies, and are tortured 
 and killed ! All the gold and silver and precious stuffs are 
 made a prize of by Verres ! " 
 
 Sucli are the accusations brought against this wonderful 
 man, the truth of which has I think on the whole been 
 admitted. The picture of Eoman life which it displays is 
 wonderful, — that such atrocities should have been possible ; 
 and equally so of provincial subjection, — that such cruelties 
 should have been endured. But in it all the greatest wonder 
 is that there should have risen up a man so determined to 
 take the part of the weak against the strong with no reward 
 before him, apparently with no other prospect tlian that of 
 making himself odious to the party to which he belonged. 
 Cicero was not a Gracclius an.xious to tln-ow liimself into the 
 arms of tlu; ])(;o])le. lie was an oligarch by conviction, born 
 to oligarchy, bred to it, convinced tliat l)y it alone could 
 
 ^ In Ycrrem, Act. scciuida, lib. v. xxviii.
 
 VERRES. V.)l 
 
 the Eoman Kepublic be preserved. But lie was convinced 
 also that unless these oligarchs could be made to do their 
 duty the Eepublic could not stand. Therefore it was that he 
 dared to defy his own brethren and to make the acquittal of 
 Verres an impossibility. I should be inclined to think that 
 the day on which Hortensius threw up the sponge and Verres 
 submitted to banishment and fine, was the happiest in the 
 orator's life. 
 
 Verres was made to pay a fine which was very insufiicient 
 for his crimes, and then to retire into comfortable exile. 
 From this he returned to Eome when the Eoman exiles 
 were amnestied, and was shortly afterwards murdered by 
 Antony, as has been told before.
 
 CHAPTEE YIL 
 
 CICERO AS /EDILE AND TEyETOE. 
 
 The year after the trial of Yerres was that of Cicero's 
 P P gg ^dileship. We know but little of him in the 
 ^'^ ' performance of the duties of this office, but we 
 may gather that he performed them to the satisfac- 
 tion of the people. He did not spend much money for their 
 amusements although it was the custom of iEdiles to ruin 
 themselves in seeking popularity after this fashion ; and 
 yet when two years afterwards he solicited the Proetorship 
 from the peo])le he was three times elected as first Praetor 
 in all the comitia, three separate elections having been 
 rendered necessary by certain irregularities and factious 
 difficulties. To all the offices, one after another, he was 
 elected in his first year, — the first year possible in accordance 
 with his age; and was elected first in honour, the first as 
 Praetor and then the first as Consul. This, no doubt, was 
 jiartly due to his compliance with those rules for canvassing 
 v>liicli Ills brother Qaintus is said to have drav/n out, and 
 A\ liicli 1 have quoted ; but it proves also the trust wliich 
 was felt ill liim by the people. The candidates for the most 
 jiart were the candidates for the aristocracy. They were 
 imt forward with the idea that thus might the aristocratic
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AXD EILETOR. 193 
 
 rule of liorae be best maintained. Their elections were 
 carried on by bribery and the people were for the most 
 part indifferent to the proceeding. Whether it miglit be 
 a Yerres, or an Antony, or an Hortensius, they took the 
 money that was going. They allowed themselves to be 
 delighted with the games, and they did as they were bid. 
 But every now and then there came up a name which 
 stirred them, and they went to the voting pens, — ovilia — 
 with a purpose of their own. When such a candidate came 
 forward he was sure to be first. Such had been Marius, 
 and such had been the great Pompey, and such was Cicero. 
 The two former were men successful in war, who gained 
 the voices of the people by their victories. Cicero gained 
 them by what he did inside the city. He could afford 
 not to run into debt and ruin himself during liis zEdiieship, 
 — -as had been common with ^diles,— because he was able 
 to achieve his popularity in another way. It was the 
 chief duty of the .^diles to look after the town generally, 
 to see to the temples of the gods, to take care that houses 
 did not tumble down, to look to the cleansing of the streets 
 and to the supply of water. The markets were under them, 
 and the police, and the recurrent festivals. An active man, 
 with common sense, such as was Cicero, no doubt did his 
 duty as ^dile well. 
 
 He kept up his practice as an advocate -during his years 
 of office. We have left to us the part of one speech and 
 the whole of another spoken during this period. The former 
 was in favour of Fonteius whom the Gauls prosecuted 
 for plundering them as Proprietor, and the latter is a 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 civil case on behalf of Csecina, addressed to the " recii- 
 peratores " as had been that for Marcus Tullius. The 
 speech for Fonteius is remarkable as being as hard against 
 the provincial Grauls, as his speech against Verres had 
 been favourable to the Sicilians. But the Gauls were 
 barbarians, whereas the Sicilians were Greeks. And it 
 should be always remembered that Cicero spoke as an 
 advocate and that the praise and censure of an advocate 
 require to be taken with many grains of salt. Nothing 
 that these wretched Gauls could say against a Koman 
 citizen ought to be accepted in evidence ! All the Romans, 
 he says, who have been in the Province wish well to Fonteius. 
 " "Would you rather believe these Gauls ? Led by what 
 feeling ? By the opinion of men ! Is the opinion then 
 of your enemies of greater weight than that of your fellow 
 citizens ? Or is it the greater credibility of the witnesses 1 
 Would you prefer then unknown men to known, dishonest 
 men to honest, foreigners to your own countrymen, greedy 
 men to those who come before you for nothing, men of 
 no religion to those who fear the gods, those who hate 
 the empire and the name of Rome to allies and citizens 
 wlio are good and faithful?"^ In every word of this he 
 begs the question so as to convince us that his own case 
 was weak; and when he makes a final appeal to the pity 
 of the judges "vwe are sure that Fonteius was guilty. He 
 tells the judges that the poor mother of the accused man 
 has no other support than this sou, and that there is a 
 
 ' I'ro l''oiitcio, xiii.
 
 CICERO AS ^DILE AND PRyETOR. 195 
 
 sister one of the virgins devoted to the service of Vesta 
 who being a vestal virgin cannot have sons of her own, and 
 is therefore entitled to have her brother preserved for lier. 
 When we read such arguments as these we are sure that 
 Fonteius had misused the Gauls. We believe that he 
 was acquitted because we are told that he bought a house 
 in Eome soon afterwards, but we feel that he escaped by 
 the too great influence of his advocate. We are driven 
 to doubt whether the power over words which may be 
 achieved by a man by means of natural gifts, practice, 
 and erudition, may not do evil instead of good. A man 
 with such a tongue as that of Cicero will make the listener 
 believe almost whatever he will. And the advocate is 
 restrained by no horror of falsehood. In his profession 
 alone it is considered honourable to be a bulwark to 
 deception and to make the worse appear the better cause. 
 Cicero did so when the occasion seemed to him to require 
 it and has been accused of hypocrisy in consequence. There 
 is a passage in one of the dialogues, De Oratore, which has 
 been continually quoted against him because the word 
 " tibs " has been used with approval. The orator is tokl 
 how it may become him to garnish his good story with 
 little white lies, — • " mendaciunculis " ^ The advice does 
 not indeed refer to facts, or to evidence, or to arguments. 
 
 ^ De Oratore, lib. ii. lix. " Perspicitis, hoc genus quam sit facetiim, qnam 
 elegaiis, qnam oratoriiim, sive habeas vere, quod narrare possis, quod tamen, 
 est mendaciunculis aspergendum, sive fingas." Either invent a story, or if 
 you have an old one add on something so as to make it really funny. Is there 
 a parson, a bishop, an archbishop, who if he have any sense of humour 
 about him does not do the same ? 
 
 2 ■
 
 196 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 It goes no further than to suggest that amount of exag- 
 geration which is used by every teller of a good story 
 in order that the story raory be good. Such "mendaciun- 
 cuLa " are in the mouth of every diner-out in London and 
 •we may pity the dinner parties at which they are not used. 
 Eeference is made to them now because the use of the word 
 by Cicero, having been misunderstood by some who have 
 treated Iiis name with severity, has been brought forward 
 in proof of his falsehood. You shall tell a story about a 
 very little man and say that he is only thirty-six inches. 
 You know very well that he is more than four feet high. 
 That will be a " mendaciunculum " according to Cicero. 
 The phrase has been passed on from one enemy to another 
 till the little fibs of Cicero's recommending have been 
 supposed to be direct lies suggested by him to all advocates, 
 and therefore continually used by him as an advocate. They 
 have been only the garnishing of his drolleries. As an 
 advocate he was about as false, and about as true as an 
 advocate of our own day.^ That ho was not paid, and 
 that our English barristers are paid for tlic work they do, 
 makes I thinlc, no difference either in the innocency or 
 the falseness of the practice. I cannot but believe that, 
 liereafter, an improved tone of general feeling will forbid 
 a man of lionour to use arguments which he thinks to be 
 
 ' Cicero, Pro Cluontio, ]., cxjilaiiis very clearly his own idea as to his OA\'n 
 speeches as an advocate, and may be accepted pcrhnjis, ns explaining the ideas 
 of barristers of to-day. "He errs," ho says, "who thinks that he gets my 
 own opinions in speeclies made in law courts ; sncli speeches are what the 
 B{)ecial cases rerjuire, and are not to be taken as corning from an advocate as 
 his own."
 
 CICERO AS JEBILE AND PRJETOR. 197 
 
 untrue, or to make others believe that which he does not 
 believe himself. Such is not the state of things now in 
 London, — nor was it at Eome in Cicero's time. There 
 are touches of eloquence in the plea for I'onteius, but 
 the reader will probably agree with me that the orator 
 was well aware that the late governor who was on his 
 trial had misused those unfortunate Gauls. 
 
 In the year following that of Cicero's ^dileship w'ere 
 written the first of his epistles which have come to us. 
 He was then not yet thirty-nine years old, B.C. ^'^, and 
 during that year and the next seven, were written eleven 
 letters, — all to Atticus. Tliose to his otlier friends, — " Ad 
 Familiares " as we have been accustomed to call them ; " Ad 
 Diversos " they are commonly called now, — began only 
 with the close of his consular year. How it has come 
 to pass that there have been preserved only those which 
 were written after a period of life at which most men 
 cease to be free correspondents cannot be said with certainty. 
 It has probably been occasioned by the fact that he caused 
 his letters to be preserved as soon as he himself perceived 
 how great would be their value. Of the nature of their 
 value it is hardly possible to speak too highly. I am 
 not prepared indeed to agree with the often quoted assertion 
 of Cornelius Nepos that he who has read his letters to 
 Atticus will not lack much of the history of those days.'^ 
 
 ^ AVhen the question is discussed we are forced rather to wonder how many 
 of the great historical doings of the time are not mentioned, or are mentioned 
 very slightly, in Cicero's letters. Of Pompey's treatment of the pirates, 
 and of his batlliug in the East little or nothing is said ;— nothing of
 
 198 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 A man wlio sliould have read them and nothing else, 
 even in the days of Augustus, would not have learned 
 much of the preceding age. But if not for the purpose 
 of history the letters generally have, if read aright, been 
 all but enough for the purpose of biography. With a 
 view to the understanding of the man's character they 
 have, I think, been enough. From them such a flood of 
 light has been turned upon the writer, that all his nobility 
 and all his defects, all his aspirations and all his vacillations 
 have been made visible. We know how human he was, — 
 and how, too, he was only human ; how he sighed for great 
 events, and allowed himself to think sometimes that they 
 could be accomplished by small manceuvres ; how like a 
 man, he could be proud of his work and boast, — how hke 
 a man, he could despair and almost die. But I wish it 
 to be acknowledged by those who read his letters in order 
 that they may also read his character, that they were, 
 when written, private letters, intended to tell the truth, 
 and that if they are to be believed in reference to his 
 weaknesses, they are also to be believed in reference to his 
 strength. If they are singularly transparent as to the 
 
 Caisar's doings in Spain. Mention is nuule of Cscsar's great operations in 
 Gaul only in reference to the lieutenancy of Cicero's brother Quintus, 
 and to tlie employment of his young friend Trebatius. Nothing is said 
 of the manner of Caesar's coming into Rome after passing the Rubicon ; — 
 nothing of the manner of fighting at Dyrrachium and Pharsalia ; very little 
 of the death of Pompey ; nothing of Cscsar's delay in Egypt. The letters 
 deal with Cicero's personal doings and thoughts, and with the politics of 
 Rome as a city. The passage; to whicli allusion is made occurs in the life 
 of Atticus, (;a. xvi., " (,>u;i' (^ui Icgiit nun inulluiu dcsidurct historiani 
 coutextam illorum temporuni."
 
 CICERO AS jBBILE AND FE.ETOR. 199 
 
 man, opening, especially to Atticus, the secrets of his 
 soul more completely than would even any girl in the 
 nineteenth century when writing to her bosom friend, 
 so must they be taken as being more honestly true. To 
 regard the higher aspirations as hypocritical, and only the 
 meaner effluxions of his mind as emblematic of the true 
 man, is both unreasonable and uncharitable. Nor, I think, 
 will that reader be in the way to see the truth who cannot 
 teach himself what has in Cicero's case been the effect of 
 daring to tell to his friend an unvarnished tale. "When 
 with us some poor thought does makes its way across 
 our minds w^e do not sit down and write it to another, 
 —nor if we did, would an immortality be accorded to 
 the letter. If one of us were to lose his all, — as Cicero 
 lost his all when he was sent into exile, — I think it 
 might well be that he should for a time be unmanned. 
 But he would either not write, or in writing would hide 
 much of his feelings. On losing his TuUia some father 
 of to-day would keep it all in his heart, — would not maunder 
 out his sorrows. Even with our truest love for our friends 
 some fear is mingled w^hich forbids the use of open words. 
 Whether this be for good or for evil I will not say ; — but 
 it is so. Cicero, whether he did or did not know that 
 his letters would live, was impeded by no such fear. He 
 said everything that there w^as within him; — being in 
 this I should say quite as unlike to other Eomans of the 
 day as he was to ourselves. In the collection as it has 
 come to us there are about fifty letters not from Cicero, — 
 written to Cicero by his brother, by Decimus Brutus, by
 
 200 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Planciis and others. It -will I think be admitted that 
 their tone is quite different from that used by himself. 
 There are none indeed from Atticus, none written under 
 terms of such easy friendship as prevailed when many 
 were written by Cicero himself. It will probably be ac- 
 knowledged that Jiis manner of throwing himself open to 
 his correspondent was peculiar to him. If this be so, he 
 should surely have the advantage as well as the dis- 
 advantage of his own mode of utterance. The reader who 
 allows himself to think that the true character of the man 
 is to be read in the little sly things he said to Atticus, 
 but that the nobler ideas were merely put forth to cajole 
 the public, is as unfair to himself as he is to Cicero. 
 
 In reading the entire correspondence, — the letters from 
 Cicero either to Atticus or to others, — it has to be remembered 
 that in the ordinary arrangement of them made by Groevius ^ 
 they are often incorrectly placed in regard to chronology. 
 In subsequent times efforts have been made to restore them 
 to their proper position, and so they should be read. The 
 letters to Atticus and those " Ad Diversos" have generally 
 been published separately. Yov the ordinary purpose of 
 literary pleasure they may perhaps be best read in that way. 
 The tone of them is different. The great bulk of the corre- 
 sijondence is political, or quasi-political. The manner is 
 much more huniliar, much less severe, — though not on that 
 uccoiuit indicating less seriousness, — in those written to 
 
 I 
 
 ' Jean George Greefe was a German, who spput his life as a professor at 
 Li;y(h'n, and, among oth(T classical luliours, ainuigud and edited the letters 
 of Cicero. lie died in 1703,
 
 CICERO AS .EDILE AND PRjETOR. 201 
 
 Atticus than in tlie others. With one or two signal ex- 
 ceptions those to Atticus are better worth reading. Tlie 
 character of the writer may perhaps be best gathered from 
 divided perusal. But for a general understanding of the facts 
 of Cicero's life the whole correspondence should be taken 
 as it was written. It has been published in this shape as 
 well as in the other, and "will be used in this shape in my 
 effort to portray the life of him who wrote them.^ 
 
 We have three letters written when he was thirty-eight, in 
 _ - gg the year after his ^dileship. In the first he tells 
 secat 39- j^jg friend of the death of his cousin Lucius Cicero, 
 who had travelled with him into Sicily, and alludes to the 
 disagreements which had taken place between Pomponia, the 
 sister of Atticus, and her husband Quintus Cicero, — our Cicero's 
 brother. Marcus in all that he says of his brother makes 
 the best of him. That Quintus was a scholar and a man of 
 parts there can be no doubt ; one, too, who rose to high ofBce 
 in the Eepublic. But he was arrogant, of harsh temper, cruel 
 
 ^ It must be explained, however, tliat continued research and increased 
 knowledge have caused the order of the letters and the dates assigned to them 
 to be altered from time to time. And, — though much has been done to 
 achieve accuracy, — more remains to be done. In my references to the letters 
 I at first gave them, both to the arrangement made by Grievius and to the 
 numbers assigned in the edition I am using. But I have found that the num- 
 b(.rs would only mislead, as no numbering has been yet adopted as fixeil. 
 Arbitrary and even fantastic as is the arrangement of Gravius it is better to 
 confine myself to that because it has been acknowledged, and will enable my 
 readers to find the letters if they wish to do so. Should Mr. Tyrrell' continue 
 and complete his edition of the correspondence he will go far to achieve the 
 desired accuracy. A second volume has appeared since this work of mine 
 has been in the press.
 
 202 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 to those dependent on him, and altogether unimbued with 
 the humanity which was the peculiar characteristic of his 
 brother. " When I found him to be in the wrong," says 
 Cicero in his first letter, " I wrote to him as to a brother 
 whom I loved, — but as to one younger than myself, and 
 whom I was bound to tell of his fault." As is usual with 
 correspondents half the letter is taken up with excuses for 
 not writin" sooner. Then he crives commissions for the 
 purchase of statues for his Tusculan villa, of which we now 
 hear for the first time, ' and tells his friend how his wife 
 Terentia sends her love though she is suffering from the gout. 
 Tullia also, the dear little Tullia, — " delicite nostra," -^ — sends 
 lier love. In the next, he says how a certain house which 
 Atticus had intended to purchase had been secured by 
 Fonteius for 130,000 sesterces, something over £1,000, taking 
 the sesterce at 2cl. This no doubt was part of the plunder 
 which Fonteius had taken from the Gauls. Quintus is 
 getting on better with his wife. Then he tells his friend 
 very abruptly that his father died that year on the eighth 
 day before the kalends of December, — on the 2-ith November. 
 Some question as to the date of the old man's death had 
 probably been asked. He gives further commissions as to 
 statues, and declares of his Tusculan villa that he is happy 
 only when he is there. In the third letter he promises that 
 he will be ready to pay one Cincius £170 on a certain day, — 
 
 ' 'J'lu; i)<;c,uli.iriti(;s of Cicero's character arc nowhere so clearly legible as in 
 his dealiiigH with and words about his dauf^hter. There is au cll'iisiou of love, 
 and then of sorrow^vhcu she dies, — which is un-hoiu;ui, almost feminine, — 
 bnt very touching. 
 
 ) 
 
 I
 
 CICERO AS JEDILE AND PRJiTOIi. 203 
 
 the price probably of more statues, and gives orders to Lis 
 friend as to the buying of boolvs, " All my prospect of en- 
 joying myself at my ease depends on your goodness," These 
 were the letters he wrote when he had just ceased to be iEdile. 
 From the next two years five letters remain to us, chiefly 
 noticeable from the continued commissions given by Cicero 
 to Atticus for statues. Statues and more statues are wanted 
 as ornaments for his Tusculanum. Should there be more 
 than are needed for that villa he will begin to decorate 
 another that] he has, — the rormianum, near Caieta. He 
 wants whatever Atticus may think proper for his " palaestra " 
 and " gymnasium." Atticus has a library or collection of maps 
 for sale, and Cicero engages to buy them ; though it seems 
 that he has not at present quite got the money. He reserves, 
 he says, all his little comings-in, — " vindemiolas," — what he 
 might make by selling his grapes, as a lady in the country 
 might get a little income from her spare butter, — in order that 
 he may have books as a resource for his old age. Again, he 
 bids Atticus not to be afraid but what he, Cicero, will be 
 able to buy them some day, — which if he can do he will be 
 richer than Crassus, and will envy no one his mansions or 
 his lawns. He also declares that he has betrothed Tullia, 
 then ten years old, to Caius Piso, son of Lucius Piso Pru^i. 
 The proposed marriage, which after three years of betrothal 
 was duly solemnised, was considered to be in all respects 
 desirable. Cicero thought very highly of his son-in-law, 
 who M'as related to Calpurnius Piso, one of the Con- 
 suls of that year. So far everything was going well with 
 our orator.
 
 204 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 He was then caudidate for the Pra^torship, — and was 
 jp g- elected first, as has been already said. It was 
 sEtat 40. ^^ ^Yiox year too, that a law was passed in Eonie 
 at the instance of one Gabinius, a tribune, authorising 
 Pompey to exterminate the pirates in the Mediterranean 
 and giving him almost unlimited power for this object. 
 Pompey was not indeed named in this law. A single 
 general, one who had been Consul, was to be approved 
 by the Senate, with exclusive command by sea and for 
 fifty miles on shore. He was to select as his own officers 
 a hitherto unheard of number, all of senatorial rank. It 
 was well understood when the law was worded that Pompey 
 alone could fill the place. The Senate opposed the 
 scheme with all its power, although, seven years before, 
 it had acknowledged the necessity of some measure for 
 extirpating the pirates. But jealousies prevailed, and the 
 Senate was afraid of Pompey. Gabinius however carried 
 his law by the votes of the people, and Pompey was 
 api)ointed. 
 
 Nothing t(dls us more clearly the wretched condition of 
 things in Rome at this time than this infliction of pirates 
 under which their commerce was almost destroyed. Sulla 
 had reestablished the outside show of a strong government, 
 —a government which was strong enough to enable rich 
 men to live securely in Pome ; but lie had done nothing 
 to consolidate the Empire. Even Eucullus in the East 
 had oidy ])artially succeeded, leaving Mithridates still to 
 be dealt witli 1)y Pompey. Of wliat nature was the 
 government (jf the provinces under >'ulla's aristocracy we
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AXD ER.ETOn. 205 
 
 learn from the trials of Verres and of Fonteius and of 
 Catiline. The Mediterranean swarmed with pirates who 
 tanght themselves to think that they had nothing to fear 
 from the hands of the Eomans. Plutarch declares to us, 
 no doubt with fair accuracy, because the description has 
 been admitted by subsequent writers, — how great was the 
 horror of these depredations.^ It is marvellous to us now 
 that this should have been allowed, — marvellous that pirates 
 should reach such a pitch of importance that Verres had 
 found it worth his while to sacrifice Eoman citizens in 
 their place. Pompey went forth with his officers, his 
 fleets and his money and cleared the Mediterraneati, — in 
 forty days as Plutarch sa3^s. Plorus tells us that not a 
 
 ' I annex a passage from our well-known English translation. " The power 
 of the pirates had its foundation in Cilicia. Their progress was the more 
 dangerous, because at first it had been but little noticed. In the Mithridatic 
 war they assumed new confidence and courage, on account of some services 
 which they had rendered the king. After this, the Romans being engaged in 
 civil war at the very gates of their capital, the sea was left unguarded, and 
 the pirates by degrees attempted higher things ; not only attacking ships, 
 but islands and maritime towns. ]\rany persons distinguished for their 
 wealth, birth, and capacity embarked with them, and assisted in their depre- 
 dations, as if their employment had been worthy the ambition of men of 
 honour. They had in various places arsenals, ports, and watch-towers, all 
 strongly fortified. Their fleets were not only extremely well manned, sup- 
 plied with skilful pilots, and fitted for their business by their lightness and 
 celerity ; but there was a parade of vanity about them, more mortifying than 
 their strength, in gilded sterns, purple canopies, and plated oars : as if tliey 
 took a pride and triumphed in their villainy. Music resounded, and drunken 
 revels were exhibited on every coast. Here generals were made prisoners ; 
 and there the cities, which the pirates had seized upon, were paying their 
 ransom, to the great disgrace of the Roman power. The number of their 
 galleys amounted to a thousand, and the cities taken to four hundred." The 
 passage is taken from the life of Pompey.
 
 206 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 ship was lost, by the Eomans and not a pirate left on 
 the seas.^ 
 
 In the history of Eome at this time we find men of 
 mark whose characters as we read, become clear to us, or 
 appear to become clear. Of Marius and of Sulla we have 
 a defined idea. Csesar with his imperturbable courage, 
 absence of scruples, and assurance of success, comes home 
 to us. Cicero, I think, we certainly may understand. 
 Catiline, Cato, Antony and Brutus have left their portraits 
 with us. Of Pompey I must acknowledge for myself that 
 I have but a vague conception. His wonderful successes 
 seem to have been produced by so very little power of 
 his own ! He was not determined and venomous as was 
 Marius, not cold-blooded and ruthless as was Sulla, certainly 
 not confident as was Ccesar, not humane as was Cicero, not 
 passionate as Catiline, not stoic as was Cato, not reckless 
 as was Antony, nor wedded to the idea of an oligarchy as 
 was Brutus. Success came in his way, and he found it ; 
 — found it again and again till fortune seemed to have 
 adopted him. Success lifted him higher and higher till 
 at last it seemed to 1dm that he must be a Sulla whether 
 he would or 110.2 p,^{^ ]^q could not endure the idea of 
 
 '•■ Flonis, lib. iii. C>. " An felicitatem, quod ne una cuidam navis aniissa est ; 
 an vpro perpetuctatem, quod ampluis piratai non fucrunt.'" 
 
 '^ Of the singular trust placed in Pompey theri; arc very many proofs in tln^ 
 liistorj' of Rome at this period, l)ut none perhaps clearer than the exce])tion 
 made in his favour in the wording of laws. In the agrarian law proposed hy 
 the tribune Rullua and opposed by Cicero when he was consul, there is a 
 clause commanding all generals under the Republic to account for the spoils
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AND PR.ETOR. 207 
 
 a rival Sulla. I doubt whether ambition would have 
 prompted him to fight for the empire of the Eepublic, 
 liad he not perceived that that empire would fall into 
 Caesar's hands did he not grasp it himself. It would have 
 satisfied him to let things go, while the citizens called 
 him 'Magnus' and regarded him as the man who could 
 do a great thing if he would, — if only no rivalship had been 
 forced upon him. Ca?sar did force it on him, and then as 
 a matter of course he fell. He must have understood 
 warfare from his youth upwards, knowing well the pur- 
 poses of a Roman legion and of Eoman auxiliaries. He 
 had destroyed Sertorius in Spain, a man certainly greater 
 than himself, and had achieved the honour of putting an 
 end to the Servile war when Spartacus the leader of tlie 
 slaves and gladiators had already been killed. He must 
 have appreciated at its utmost the meaning of those words 
 " Gives Eomanus." He was a handsome man, w^ith sood 
 health, patient of labour, not given to luxury, reticent, 
 1 should say ungenerous, and with a strong touch of 
 vanity; a man able to express but unable to feel friend- 
 ship ; with none of the highest attributes of manhood, 
 but with all the second-rate attributes at their best. A 
 capable brave man, — but one certain to fall crushed beneatii 
 the heel of such a man as Cffisar, and as certain to leave 
 such a one as Cicero in the lurch. 
 
 It is necessary that the reader should attempt to realise to 
 
 taken by them in war. But there is a special exemption in fiivour of Pom- 
 pey. "Pompeins exceptus esto." It is as though no tribune dared to propose 
 a law affecting Pompey.
 
 208 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 himself tlie personal characteristics of Pompey as from this 
 time forward Cicero's political life, — and his life now became 
 altogether political, — was governed by that of Pompey. That 
 this was the case to a great extent is certain, — to a sad 
 extent, I think. The two men were of the same age ; but 
 Pompey had become a general among soldiers before Cicero 
 liad ceased to be a pupil among advocates. As Cicero was 
 making his way towards tlie front, Pompey was already the 
 first among Eomans. He had been Consul seven years before 
 his proper time, and had lately as we have seen, been in- 
 vested with extraordinary powers in that matter of putting 
 down the pirates. In some sort the mantle of Sulla had 
 fallen upon him. He was the leader of what we may call 
 the conservative party. If, which I doubt, the political gover- 
 nance of men was a matter of interest to him, he would 
 have had them governed by oligarchical forms. Such had 
 been the forms in Pome, — in wliicli, though the votes of the 
 people were the source of all power, the votes liardly went 
 further than the selection of this or that oligarch. Pompey 
 no doubt felt the expediency of maintaining the old order of 
 things, — in the midst of which he had been l)orn to high 
 rank, and had achieved the topmost place eitlier by fortime 
 or by merit. For any heartfelt conviction as to what might 
 be best for liis country or his countrymen, in what way he 
 nii,i-'lit most surely use his power for the good of the citizens 
 generally, we must, I thiidc, look in vain to that Pompey 
 wlioiri history has handed down to us. lUit, of all matters 
 wliicli interested Cicero, the governance of men interested 
 liim the most. How should the great Home of his day rise 
 
 I
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AKD PRjETOR. 209 
 
 to greater power than ever, and yet be as pure as in the days 
 of her comparative insignificance ? How should Eome be 
 ruled, so that Eomans might be the masters of the world, in 
 mental gifts as well as bodily strength, in arts as well as in 
 arms, — as by valour, so by virtue ? He, too, was an oligarch 
 by strongest conviction. His mind could conceive nothing 
 better than Consuls, Praetors, Censors, Tribunes, and the rest 
 of it, — with, however, the stipulation that the Consuls, and the 
 Prfetors should be honest men. The condition was no doubt 
 an impossible one ; but this he did not or would not see. 
 Pompey himself was fairly honest. Up to this time he had 
 shown no egregious lust for personal power. His hands were 
 clean in the midst of so much public plunder. He was the 
 leader of the conservative party. The " Optimates," or 
 " Boni " as Cicero indifferently calls them, — meaning as we 
 should say the upper classes who were minded to stand by 
 their order, — believed in him, though they did not just at 
 that time wish to confide to him the power which the people 
 gave him. The Senate did not want another Sulla ; — and 
 yet it was Sulla who had reinstated the Senate. The Senate 
 would have hindered Pompey, if it could, from his command 
 against the pirates, and again from his command against 
 Mithridates. But he, nevertheless, was naturally their head, 
 — as came to be seen plainly when seventeen years after- 
 wards Cffisar passed the Eubicon, and Cicero in his heart 
 acknowledged Pompey as his political leader while Pompey 
 lived. This, I think, was the case to a sad extent, as 
 Pompey was incapable of that patriotic enthusiasm which 
 Cicero demanded. As we go on we shall find that the worst 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 episodes in Cicero's political career were created by his 
 doubting adherence to a leader whom he bitterly felt to be 
 untrue to himself, and in whom his trust became weaker 
 and weaker to the end. 
 
 Then came Cicero's Prsetorship. In the time of Cicero 
 there were eight Prastors, two of whom were employed in 
 the city, and the six others in the provinces. The ' Prsetor 
 Urbanus ' was confined to the city, and was regarded as the 
 first in authority. This was the office filled by Cicero. 
 His duty was to preside among the judges, and to name 
 a judge or judges for special causes. 
 
 Cicero at this time, when he and Pompey were forty or 
 ^ - gg forty- one, believed thoroughly in Pompey. When 
 8etat4i. ^i^g great General was still away, winding up the 
 affairs of his maritime war against the pirates, there came 
 up the continually pressing question of the continuation of 
 the Mithridatic war. Lucullus had been absent on that 
 business nearly seven years, and though he had been at 
 first grandly victorious, had failed at last. His own 
 soldiers, tired of their protracted absence, mutinied against 
 him, and Glabrio, a later Consul who had been sent 
 to take the command out of his hands, had feared to en- 
 counter the difficulty. It was essential that something 
 should be done, and one Manilius, a Tribune, a man of no 
 repute himself, but whose name has descended to all pos- 
 tcrily in IIkj oral ion "Pro Lege Manilia," proposed to the 
 people that Pompey should have the command. Then Cicero 
 first entered, as we may say, on political life. Though he 
 liad been Qiiujstor and Tlildile, and was now Praetor, he had
 
 CICERO AS MDILE AND PRJETOR. 211 
 
 taken a part only in executive administration. He liad had 
 his political ideas, — and had expressed them very strongly in 
 that matter of the judges which, in the condition of Rome, 
 vi^as certainly a political question of great moment. But 
 tliis he had done as an advocate, and had interfered only as 
 a barrister of to-day might do, who in arguing a case before 
 the judges should make an attack on some alleged misuse 
 of patronage. Now, for the first time, he made a political 
 harangue, addressing the people in a public meeting from the 
 rostra. This speech is the oratio "■ Pro Lege Manilla." This 
 he explains in his first words. Hitherto his addresses had 
 been to the judges, — Judices ; now it is to the people, — 
 Quirites. " Although, Quirites, no sight has ever been so 
 pleasant to me as that of seeing you gathered in crowds, 
 although this spot has always seemed to me the fittest in the 
 world for action and the noblest for speech, nevertheless, not 
 my own will indeed, but the duties of the profession which 
 I have followed from my earliest years, have hitherto hin- 
 dered me from entering upon this, the best path to glory 
 which is open to any good man." It is only necessary for 
 our purpose to say in reference to the matter in question 
 that this command was given to Pompey in opposition to the 
 Senate. 
 
 As to the speech itself it requires our attention on two 
 points. It is one of those choice morsels of polished latinity 
 which has given to Cicero the highest rank among literary 
 men, and has, perhaps, made him the greatest writer of 
 prose which the world has produced. I have sometimes 
 attempted to make a short list of his clicfs d'oiuvrc, — of 
 
 p 2
 
 212 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 his tit-bits as I must say if I am bound to express myself in 
 Enalisb, The list would never allow itself to be short, and 
 so has become almost impossible. But whenever the attempt 
 has been made this short oration in its integrity has always 
 been included in it. My space hardly permits me to insert 
 specimens of the author's style, but I will give in an appen- 
 dix,^ — two brief extracts as specimens of the beauty of 
 Avords in Latin. I almost fancy that if properly read they 
 would have a srace about them even to the ears of those to 
 whom Latin is unknown. I venture to attach to them in 
 parallel columns my own translation, acknowledging in de- 
 spair how impossible I have found it to catch anything of 
 the rhythm of the author. As to the beauty of the language 
 1 shall probably find no opponent. But a serious attack has 
 been made on Cicero's character because it has been supposed 
 that his excessive praise was lavished on Pompey with a view 
 of securing the great General's assistance in his candidature 
 for the consulship. Even Middleton repeats this accusation, 
 and only faintly repels it. ]\L Du Eozoir, the French critic, 
 declares that " in the whole oration there is not a word which 
 was not dictated to Cicero the Prsetor by his desire to become 
 Consul, and that his own elevation was in his thoughts all 
 through, and not that of Pompey." The matter would be 
 one to us but of little moment were it not that Cicero's 
 character for honesty as a politician depends on the truth or 
 falsehood of bis belief in Pompey. Pompey had been almost 
 miraculously fortunate up to this period of liis life's career. 
 
 * See Appendix D.
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AND PRJETOR. 213 
 
 He had done infinitely valuable service to tlie State. He 
 had already crushed the pirates. There was good ground for 
 believing that in his hands the Roman arms would be more 
 efficacious against Mithridates than in those of any other 
 general. All that Cicero says on this head, whatever might 
 have been his motive for saying it, was at any rate true. 
 
 A man desirous of rising in the service of his country 
 of course adheres to his party. That Cicero was wrong 
 in supposing that the liepublic, w^hich had in fact already 
 fallen, could be re-established by the strength of any one 
 man, could be bolstered up by any leader, has to be 
 admitted. That in trusting to Pompey as a politician he 
 leaned on a frail reed I admit. But I will not admit 
 that in praising the man he was hypocritical or unduly 
 self-seeking. In our own political contests when a sub- 
 ordinate member of the Cabinet is zealously serviceable to 
 his chief, we do not accuse him of falsehood because by 
 that zeal he has also strengthened his own hands. How 
 shall a patriot do the work of his country unless he be in 
 high place ; and how shall he achieve that place except 
 by co-operation with those whom he trusts? They who 
 have blamed Cicero for speaking on behalf of Pompey on 
 this occasion seem to me to ignore not only the necessities, 
 but the very virtues of political life. 
 
 One other remarkable oration Cicero made during his 
 Praetorship, that namely in defence of Aulus Cluentius 
 Habitus. As it is the longest, so is it the most intricate, 
 and on account of various legal points the most diflicult 
 to follow of all his speeches. But there are none perhaps
 
 214 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 which tell us more of the condition, or perhaps I should 
 say the possibilities of life among the Eomans of that 
 day. The accusation against Eoscius Amerinus was ac- 
 companied by horrible circumstances. The iniquities of 
 Verres as a public officer who had the power of blessing, 
 — or of cursing, — a whole people, were very terrible. But 
 they do not shock so much as the story here told of private 
 life. That any man should have lived as did Oppianicus, 
 or any woman as did Sassia, seems to prove a state of things 
 worse than anything described by Juvenal a hundred and 
 fifty years later. Cicero was no doubt unscrupulous as 
 an advocate, but he could have gained nothing here by 
 departing from verisimilitude. We must take the picture 
 as given us as true, and acknowledge that though law 
 processes were common, crimes such as those of this 
 man and of this woman were not only possible, but might 
 be perpetrated with impunity. The story is too long and 
 complicated to be even abridged ; but it should be read 
 by those who wish to know the condition of life in Italy 
 during the latter days of the Eepublic. 
 
 in the year after he was PriBtor, — in the first of the two 
 ^„ g. years between his Preetorship and his Consulship, 
 ffitat 42. — j> Q gg^ — Y\Q, made a speech in defence of one 
 Caius Cornelius, as to which we hear that the pleadings in 
 the case occupied four days. This, witli our interminable 
 " causes ciilibres," does not seem much to us, but Cicero's 
 own spcecli was so h»iig tliat in ])ublisliing it he divided 
 it into two pni-ts. 'J'his Cornelius liad been Tribune in 
 tlio year but one; before, and was accused of having
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AND PRyETOR. 215 
 
 misused his power when in office. He had incurred 
 the enmity of the aristocracy by attempts made on the 
 popular side to restrain the Senate ; especially by the 
 stringency of a law proposed for stopping bribery at 
 elections. Cicero's speeches are not extant. We have only 
 some hardly intelligible fragments of them, which were pre- 
 served by Asconius/ a commentator on certain of Cicero's 
 orations ; but there is ground for supposing that these 
 Cornelian orations were at the time matter of as great 
 moment as those spoken against Verres, or almost as those 
 spoken against Catiline. Cicero defended Cornelius who 
 was attacked by the Senate, — by the rich men who desired 
 office and the government of provinces. The law proposed 
 for the restriction of bribery at elections no doubt attempted 
 to do more by the severity of its punishment than can be 
 achieved by such means. It was mitigated, but was still 
 admitted by Cicero to be too rigorous. The rancour of 
 the Senate against Cornelius seems to have been due to 
 this attempt ; but the illegality with which he was charged 
 and for which he was tried had reference to another law 
 suggested by him, — for restoring to the people the right 
 of pardon which had been usurped by the Senate. Cains 
 
 ^ Asconius Pedianus was a grammarian who lived in the reign of Tiberius, 
 and whose commentaries on Cicero's speeches as far as tliey go, are very useful 
 in explaining to us the meaning of the orator. We have his notes on these two 
 Cornelian orations and some others, — especially on that of Pro Milone. There 
 ai'e also commentaries on some of the Verrine orations ; — not by Asconius, — 
 but from the pen of sonue writer now called Pseudo- Asconius, having been 
 long supposed to have come from Asconius. They, too, go far to elucidate 
 much which would otherwise be dark to us.
 
 216 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Cornelius seems to have been a man honest and eager in 
 his purpose to save the Republic from the greed of the 
 oligarchs; — but, as had been the Gracchi, ready in his 
 eagerness to push his own authority too far in his attempt 
 to restrain that of the Senate. A second Tribune, in the 
 interest of the Senate, attempted to exercise an authority 
 which undoubtedly belonged to him, by inhibiting the 
 publication or reading of the proposed law. The person 
 whose duty it was to read it was stopped. Then Cornelius 
 pushed aside the inferior officer, and read it himself. There 
 was much violence and the men who brought the accusation 
 a"-ainst Cornelius, two brothers named Cominii, had to 
 liide themselves, and saved their lives by escaping over 
 the roofs of the houses. 
 
 This took place when Cicero was standing for the 
 Prsetorship, and the confusion consequent upon it was 
 so great that it was for a while impossible to carry on 
 the election. In the year after his Prsetorship Cornelius 
 was put upon his trial, and the two speeches were made. 
 
 The matter seems to have been one of vital interest in 
 Eome. The contest on the part of the Senate was for all 
 that made public life dear to such a body. Not to bribe, 
 — not to bo able to lay out money in order that money 
 miglit be returned ten-fold, a hundred-fold, would be to 
 them to cease to be aristocrats. The struggles made by 
 the Gracchi, by Livius Drusus, by others whose names 
 would only eucuiuber us here, by this Cornelius, were 
 the expiring efforts of tliose who really desired an honest 
 Jiepublic. Such were the struggles made by Cicero himself,
 
 CICERO AS jEDILE AND PRJETOR. 217 
 
 — though there was present always to him an idea, with 
 which in truth neither the demagogues nor the aristocrats 
 sympathised, that the reform could be effected, not by 
 depriving the Senate of its power, but by teaching the 
 Senate to use it honestly. We can sympathise with the 
 idea, but we are driven to acknowledge that it was 
 futile. 
 
 Though we know that this was so, the fragments of 
 the speeches, though they have been made intelligible to 
 us by the " argument " or story of them prefixed by Asconius 
 in his notes, cannot be of interest to readers. They were 
 extant in the time of Quintilian who speaks of them 
 with the highest praise.' Cicero himself selects certain 
 passages out of these speeches as examples of eloquence 
 or rhythm,^ thus showing the labour with which he com- 
 posed them, polishing them by the exercise of his ear as 
 well as by that of his intellect. We know from Asconius 
 that this trial was regarded at the time as one of vital 
 interest. 
 
 We have two letters from Cicero written in the year 
 
 1 Quint, lib. viii. 3. The critic is explaining the effect of ornament in 
 oratory ; — of that beauty of language which with the people has more etiect 
 than argument, and he breaks forth himself into perhaps the most eloquent 
 passage in the whole Institute. " Cicero in pleading for Cornelius fought with 
 arms which were as splendid as they were strong. It was not simply by 
 putting the facts before the judges, by talking usefully, in good language and 
 clearly, that he succeeded in forcing the Koman people to acknowledge by 
 their voices and by their hands their admiration. It was the grandeur of his 
 words, their magnificence, their beauty, their dignity, which produced that 
 outburst." 
 
 ' Orator. Ixvii. and Ixs.
 
 218 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 after liis Prsetorship, both to Atticus, the first of which 
 tells us of his probable competition for the Consulship, 
 The second informs his friend that a son is born to him, 
 — he being then forty-two years old, — and that he is 
 thinking to undertake the defence of Catiline who was 
 to be accused of peculation as Propraetor in Africa. 
 " Should he be acquitted," says Cicero, " I should hope 
 to have him on my side in the matter of my canvass. If 
 he should be convicted I shall be able to bear that too." 
 There were to be six or seven candidates, of whom two 
 of course would be chosen. It would be much to Cicero 
 " to run," as our phrase goes, with the one w^ho among 
 his competitors would be the most likely to succeed. 
 Catiline, in spite of his then notorious character, — in the 
 teeth of the evils of his government in Africa, — was from 
 his birth, his connections, and from his ability supposed 
 to have the best chance. It was open to Cicero to defend 
 Catiline as he had defended Fonteius, and we know from 
 his own words that he thought of doing so. But he did 
 not; nor did Cicero join himself with Catiline in the 
 canvassing. It is probable that the nature of Catiline's 
 character and intentions were now becoming clearer from 
 day to day. Catiline was tried and acquitted, — Laving it 
 is said bribed the judges.
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL, 
 
 Hitherto everything had succeeded with Cicero. His 
 fortune and his fame had gone hand in hand. The good 
 will of the citizens had been accorded to him on all possible 
 occasions. He had risen surely if not quickly to the top 
 of his profession, and had so placed himself there as to 
 have torn the wreath from the brow of his predecessor 
 and rival Hortensius, On no memorable occasion had 
 he been beaten. If now and then he had failed to win a 
 cause in which he was interested it was as to some matter 
 in which, as he had said to Atticus in speaking of his 
 contemplated defence of Catiline, he was not called on to 
 break his heart if he were beaten. We may imagine that 
 his life had been as happy up to this point as a man's life 
 may be. He had married well. Children had been born 
 to him, who were the source of infinite delight. He had 
 provided himself with houses, marbles, books and all the 
 intellectual luxuries which well-used wealth could produce. 
 Triends were thick around him. His industry, his ability 
 and his honesty were acknowledged. The citizens had 
 given him all that it was in their power to give. Now at 
 the earliest possible day, with circumstances of much more
 
 220 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 than usual honour, he was i3ut in the highest place which 
 his country had to offer, and knew himself to be the one 
 man in whom his country at this moment trusted. Then 
 came the one twelvemonth, the apex of his fortunes ; and 
 after that for the twenty years that followed, there fell upon 
 him one misery after another, one trouble on the head of 
 another trouble, so cruelly that the reader knowing the manner 
 of Komans almost wonders that he condescended to live. 
 He was chosen Consul we are told not by the votes but 
 B c G4 ^y ^^^ unanimous acclamation of the citizens. What 
 aetat 43- ^^,^^ ^Y\q exact manner of doing this we can hardly 
 now understand. The Consuls were elected by ballot, 
 wooden tickets having been distributed to the people for the 
 purpose ; but Cicero tells us that no voting tickets were 
 used in his case, but that he was elected by the combined 
 voice of the whole people.^ 
 
 He had stood with six competitors. Of these it is only 
 necessary to mention two, — as by them only was Cicero's 
 life affected, and as, out of the six, only they seem to 
 have come prominently forward during the canvassing. 
 These were Catiline the conspirator as we shall have to 
 call Iiiiu in dealing with his name in the next chapter, 
 and Caius Antonius one of the sons of Marc Antony, the 
 great orator of the preceding age, and uncle of the Marc 
 Antony with whom we are all so well acquainted, and 
 
 ' 1J(! Lcg(! Agraiiii, ii. 2. " Mcis coiiiitiis noii t:il)(,'l];ini, viiulicciii tacitoe 
 liljiaiiitis, sed vocem vivam priu vobis, iiidiconi vcstnuum crga nu; volniitatuni 
 ac Htudioriiiii tulistis. Ita(Hie me . . , , una voce univcrsus populus 
 Komanus coii.suIliii dcclaravit."
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 221 
 
 with whom we shall have so much to do, before we get 
 to the end of this work. Cicero was so easily the first 
 that it may be said of him that he walked over the course. 
 Whether this was achieved by the Machiavellian arts 
 which his brother Quintus taught in his treatise " De 
 Tetitione Consulatus," or was attributable to his general 
 popularity, may be a matter of doubt. As far as we can 
 judge from the signs which remain to us of the public 
 feeling of the period it seems that he was at this time 
 regarded with singular aflfection by his countrymen. He 
 had robbed none, and had been cruel to no one. He had 
 already abandoned the profit of provincial government, — 
 to which he was by custom entitled after the lapse of his 
 year's duty as Prsetor, — in order that he might remain in 
 Rome among the people. Though one of the Senate 
 himself, — and full of the glory of the Senate, as he had 
 declared plainly enough in that passage from one of the 
 Verrine orations which I have quoted, — he had generally 
 pleaded on the popular side. Such was his cleverness, 
 that even when on the unpopular side, — as he may be 
 supposed to have been when defending Fonteius, — he had 
 given a popular aspect to the cause in hand. We cannot 
 doubt, judging from the loud expression of the people's 
 joy at his election, that he had made himself beloved. 
 But nevertheless he omitted none of those cares whicli 
 it was expected that a candidate should take. He made 
 his electioneering speech " in toga Candida," — in a white 
 robe, as candidates did, and were thence so called. It has 
 not come down to us, — nor do we regret it, judging from
 
 222 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the extracts which have been collected from the notes which 
 Asconius wrote upon it. It was full of personal abuse of 
 Antony and Catiline his competitors. Such was the practice 
 of Eome at this time, — as it was also with us not very long 
 since. We shall have more than enough of such eloquence 
 before w^e have done our task. "When we come to the 
 language in which Cicero spoke of Clodius his enemy, of Piso 
 and Gabinius the Consuls who allowed him to be banished, 
 and of Marc Antony, his last great opponent, the nephew of 
 the man who was now his colleague, we shall have very much 
 of it. It must again be pleaded that the foul abuse which fell 
 from other lips has not been preserved ; and that Cicero there- 
 fore must not be supposed to have been more foul-mouthed 
 than his rivals. We can easily imagine that he was more 
 bitter than others, because he had more power to throw into 
 his words the meaning which he intended them to convey. 
 Antony was chosen as Cicero's colleague. It seems from 
 such evidence as we are able to get on the subject that 
 Cicero trusted Antony no better than he did Catiline, but 
 appreciating the wisdom of the maxim, " divide et impera," 
 — separate your enemies and you will get the better of 
 them, wliich was no doubt known as well then as now, — 
 he soon determined to use Antony as his ally against 
 Catiline who was presumed to reckon Anthony among his 
 ielluw conspirators. Sallust j)uts into the mouth of 
 Catiline a declaration to tliis effect,' and Cicero did use 
 
 ' Sail. Conj. Catilinaria, xxi, " Petere consulatum C. Antonium, quern 
 aiV)i collegam fore speraret, liomiiu in ct faiiiiliarem, ct oimiibus necessitudi- 
 iiibuH circuiiiv(!iitinii." Sallusl. would no dciwM have put aiiytbing into
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 093 
 
 Antony for the purpose. The story of Catiline's conspiracy 
 is so essentially the story of Cicero's Consulship, that I 
 may be justified in hurrying over the other events of his 
 year's rule ; — hut still there is something that must be 
 told. Tliough Catiline's conduct was under his eye during 
 the whole year it was not till October that the affairs in 
 which we shall have to interest ourselves commenced. 
 
 Of what may have been the nature of the administrative 
 work done by the great Koman officers of state we know 
 very little. Perhaps I might better say that we know 
 nothing. Men, in their own diaries, when they keep them, 
 or even in their private letters, are seldom apt to say 
 much of those daily doings which are matter of routine 
 to themselves and are by them supposed to be as little 
 interesting to others. A Prime Minister with us, were he 
 as prone to reveal himself in correspondence as was Cicero 
 with his friend Atticus, would hardly say when he went 
 to the Treasury Chambers or what he did when he got 
 there. We may imagine that to a Cabinet Minister even 
 a Cabinet Council would after many sittings become a 
 matter of course. A leading barrister would hardly leave 
 behind him a record of his work in chambers. It has 
 thus come to pass tliat though we can picture to ourselves 
 a Cicero before the judges, or addressing the people from 
 the rostra, or uttering his opinion in the Senate, we know 
 nothing of him as he sat in his office and did his 
 
 Catiline's mouth whicli would suit his own purpose ; but it was necessary 
 for his purpose that he should confine himself to credibilities.
 
 224 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 consular work. We cannot but suppose that there must 
 have been an ofifice with many clerks. There must have 
 been heavy daily work. The whole operation of govern- 
 ment was under the Consul's charge, and to Cicero, with 
 a Catiline on his hands, this must have been more than 
 usually heavy. How he did it, with what assistance, 
 sitting at M'hat writing-table, dressed in what robes, with 
 what surroundings of archives and red tape, I cannot make 
 manifest to myself. I can imagine that there must have 
 been much of dignity, — as there was with all leading 
 Romans, but beyond that I cannot advance even in fancying 
 what was the official life of a Consul, 
 
 In the old days the Consul used as a matter of course 
 to go out and do the fighting. When there was an enemy 
 here, or an enemy there, the Consul was bound to hurry 
 ofi' with his army, north or south, to different parts of 
 Italy. But gradually this system became impracticable. 
 Distances became too great, as the empire extended itself 
 beyond the bounds of Italy, to admit of the absence of 
 tlie Consuls. \Vars prolonged themselves through many cam- 
 paigns, — as notably did that which was soon to take place 
 in Gaul under Csesar. The Consuls remained at home, and 
 Generals were sent out with proconsular authority. This 
 had become so certainly the case that Cicero on becoming 
 Consul had no fear of being called on to fight the enemies 
 of liis country. There was much fighting then in course 
 of being done by Pompey in the East. But this would give 
 liut litth) trouble to the gi'cat oflicers at home, unless it 
 might be in sending out necessary supplies.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 225 
 
 The Cousul's work however, was severe enough. We 
 find from his own words in a letter to Atticus written 
 in the year but one after his Consulship, 61 B.C., that as 
 Consul he made twelve public addresses. Each of them 
 nmst have been a work of labour, requiring a full mastery 
 over the subject in hand, and an arrangement of words very 
 different in their polished perfection from the generality 
 of parliamentary speeches to which we are accustomed. 
 The getting up of his cases must have taken great time. 
 Letters went slowly and at a heavy cost. Writing must 
 have been tedious when that most common was done wuth 
 a metal point on soft wax. An advocate who was earnest 
 in a case had to do much for himself. We have heard 
 how Cicero made his way over to Sicily, creeping in a 
 little boat through the dangers prepared for him, in order 
 that he might get up the evidence against Verres. In 
 defending Aulus Cluentius,. when he was Praetor, Cicero 
 must have found the work to have been immense. In 
 preparing the attack upon Catiline it seems that every 
 ^\'itness was brought to himself. There w^ere four Catiline 
 speeches made in the year of his Consulship, but in the 
 same year many others were delivered by him. He 
 mentions, as we shall see just now, twelve various speeches 
 made in the year of his Consulship. 
 
 I imagine that the words spoken can in no case have 
 been identical Avith those which have come to us, — which 
 were, as we may say, prepared for the press by Tiro his 
 slave and secretary. We have evidence as to some of 
 tliem, — especially as to the second Catiline oration, that 
 
 VOL. I. y
 
 226 LIFE OF CICEBO. 
 
 time did not admit of its being written and learned by 
 heart after the occurrence of the circumstances to which 
 it alludes. It needs must have been extemporary, with 
 such mental preparation as one night may have sufficed 
 to give him. How the words may have been taken down 
 in such a case we do not quite know, but we are aware 
 that shorthand writers were employed though there can 
 hardly have been a science of stenography perfected as 
 is that with us.^ The words which we read were probably 
 much polished before they were published, but how far 
 this was done we do not know. What we do know is 
 that the w^ords which he spoke, moved, convinced and 
 charmed those who heard them, as do the words we read, 
 move, convince and charm us. Of these twelve consular 
 speeches Cicero gives a special account to his friend. " I 
 will send you," he says, " the speechlings ^ which you require 
 as well as some others, — seeing that those which I have 
 written out at the request of a few young men, please you 
 
 ^ Cicero himself tells us that many shortliaiul [writers were sent by 
 him, — " Plures librarii," as he calls them, — to take down the words of the 
 Agi'ari.m law which Kulhis proposed. Do Lege Agra. ii. 5, Pliny, Quintiliun 
 and Martial speak of these men as Notarii. Martial explains the nature of 
 tlicir liiisinc^ss — 
 
 " Currant verba licet, manus est velocior illis ; 
 
 Nondum lingua suum, dc.xtra pcrogit opus." — xiv. 208. 
 
 2 Ad Att. ii. 1. " Oratiunculas," he calls them. It would seem here that 
 he pretends to liavo preserved these speeclies only at the request iof some 
 admiring young rri(.'nd3. Demosthenes of course was the "fellow citizen," 
 uo called in badinage, because Atticus, deserting Kome, lived much at Athens,
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 227 
 
 also. It was an advantage to me here to follow the example 
 of that fellow citizen of yours in those orations whicli he 
 called his Philippics. In these he brightened himself np, 
 and discarded his ' nisi prius ' way of speaking, so that 
 he might achieve something more dignified, something 
 more statesmanlike. So I have done with these speeches, 
 of mine which may be called ' consulares,' " — as having 
 been made not only in his consular year but also with 
 something of consular dignity. " Of these one, on the 
 new land laws proposed, was spoken in the Senate on 
 the Calends of January, the second on the same subject 
 to the people. The third was respecting Otho's law.^ 
 Tiie fourth was in defence of Eabirius.^ The fifth was in 
 reference to the cliildren of those who had lost their property 
 and their rank under Sulla's proscription.^ The sixth was 
 an address to the people and explained why I renounced 
 my provincial government.* The seventh drove Catiline 
 
 ■' This speech, which has been lost, was addressed to the people with the 
 view of reconciling them to a law in accordance with which the Equites were 
 entitled to special seats in the theatre. It was altogether successful. 
 
 - This, which is extant, was spoken in defence of an old man who was 
 accused of a political homicide thirty-seven years before, — of having killed, 
 that is, Saturni-nus the Tribune. Cicero was unsuccessful, but Eabirius was 
 saved by the common subterfuge of an interposition of omens. There are 
 some very fine passages in this oration. 
 
 ^ This has been lost. Cicero, though he acknowledged the iniquity of 
 Sulla's proscriptions, showed that their effects could not now be reversed 
 without further revolutions. He gained his point on this occasion. 
 
 * This has been lost. Cicero, in accordance with the practice of the time, 
 was entitled to the government of a province when ceasing to be Consul. 
 The rich province of Macedonia fell to him by lot, but he made it over to his 
 colleague Antony, thus purchasing if uot Autouy's co-operation, at any rate 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 ^' LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 out of the city. The eighth was addressed to the people 
 tlie day after Catiline fled. The ninth was again spoken 
 to the people, on the day on which the AUobroges gave 
 their evidence. Then again the tenth was addressed to 
 tlie Senate on the fifth of December," — also respecting 
 Catiline. " There are also two short supplementary speeches 
 on the Agrarian war. You shall have the whole body of 
 them. As what I write and what I do are equally in- 
 teresting to you you will gather from the same documents 
 all my doings and all my sayings." 
 
 It is not to be supposed that in this list are contained 
 all the speeches which he made in his consular year, but 
 those only which he made as Consul, — those to which he 
 was desirous of adding something of the dignity of states- 
 manship, something beyond the weight attached to his 
 pleadings as a law^yer. As an advocate, Consul though he 
 was, he continued to perform his work, — from whence we 
 learn that no state dignity was so high as to exempt au 
 established pleader from the duty of defending his friends. 
 Hortensius, when Consul elect, had undertaken to defend 
 Verres. Cicero defended Murena when he was Consul. He 
 defended C. Calpurnius Piso also, who was accused, as were 
 so many, of proconsular extortion; — but whether in this 
 year or in the preceding is not I tliink known.^ Of liis 
 
 his quiescenco, in rpffanl to Catiline. lie also mivde over the province of 
 Gail, whicli Hirh IVll to his lot, to Motellus, not wishing to leave the city. 
 All this had to he ex])laincd to th(! ])eo]ile. 
 
 ' It will he seen that ho also dofen<led llahirins in his consular year, hut 
 h'ld thoiif;ht fit to include that among his cnnsular sjircches. Some douht 
 has heen thrown, especially hy Mr. Tyncl), on tlie genuineness of Cicero's
 
 CICERO AS COXSUL. 229 
 
 speech on that occasion we have nothing remaining. Of 
 his pleading for Murena we have, if not the whole, the 
 material part, and, tliough nobody cares very much for 
 Murena now, the oration is very amusing. It was made 
 towards the end of the year, on the 20th of November, — after 
 the second Catiline oration, and before the third, at the 
 very moment in which Cicero was fully occupied with the 
 evidence on which he intended to convict Catiline's fellow 
 conspirators. As I read it I am carried away by wonder 
 rather than admiration at the energy of the man who could 
 at such a period of his life give up his time to master the 
 details necessary for the trial of Murena. 
 
 Early in the year Cicero had caused a law to be passed, — 
 which after him was called the Lex Tullia, — increasing the 
 stringency of the enactments against bribery on the part of 
 consular candidates. His intention had probably been to 
 hinder Catiline, who was again about to become a candidate. 
 But Murena, who was elected, was supposed to have been 
 caught in the meshes of the net, and also Silanus, the other 
 Consul designate. Cato, the man of stern nature, the great 
 stoic of the day, was delighted to have an opportunity of 
 proceeding against some one, and not very sorry to attack 
 Murena with weapons provided from the armoury of 
 
 letter giving the list of his " oratiunculas consulares," because the speeches 
 Pro Murena and Pro Pisone are omitted, and as containing some "rather 
 un-Ciceronian expressions." My respect for Mr, Tyrrell's scholarship and 
 judgment is so great that I hardly dare to express an opinion contrary to 
 his ; but I should be sorry to exclude a letter so Ciceronian in its feeling. 
 And if we are to have liberty to exclude without evidence, where are we to 
 stop ?
 
 230 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Murena's friend, Cicero, Silanus, however, who happened to 
 he cousin to Cato, was allowed to pass unmolested. Sul- 
 picius, who was one of the disappointed candidates, Cato, 
 and Postumius were the accusers. Hortensius, Crassus, and 
 Cicero, were comhined together for the defence of Murena. 
 But as we read the single pleading that has come to us we 
 feel that, unlike those Eoman trials generally, this was 
 carried on without any acrimony on either side. I think it 
 must have been that Cato wished to have an opportunity of 
 displaying his virtue, but it had been arranged that Murena 
 w^as to be acquitted. Murena was accused, among other 
 things of dancing ! Greeks might dance, as we hear from 
 Cornelius Nepos,^ but for a Roman Consul it would be 
 disgraceful in the highest extreme. A lady indeed might 
 dance, — but not much. Sallust tells us of Sempronia, — who 
 was indeed a very bad female if all tliat he says of her 
 be true, — that she danced more elegantly than became an 
 honest woman.^ She was the wife of a Consul. But a male 
 lioman of high standing might not dance at all. Cicero 
 defends his friend by showing how impossible it was, — how 
 monstrous the idea. " No man would dance unless drunk 
 or mad." Nevertheless, I imagine that Murena had danced. 
 
 Cicero seizes an opportunity of quizzing Cato for liis 
 stoicism, and uses it delightfully. Horace was not more 
 ha];)py when in defence of Aristippus he declared that any 
 
 ^ Corn. Nepo. Epaniinondas, I. "We know that with us," — Romans, — 
 " iinisic is foix'ign to tlu; enij)loyiiients of a fjrrat man. To dance wouM 
 amount to a viw. But th<'se things among the Greeks are not only pleasant 
 but praiseworthy." 
 
 - Conj. Catilinarift, .\;<v.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 231 
 
 philosopher would turn up his nose at cabbage if he could 
 get liimself asked to the tables of rich men.^ " There was 
 one Zeuo," Cicero says, — "who laid down laws. No wise 
 man would forgive any fault. No man worthy of the name 
 of man would allow himself to be pitiful. Wise men are 
 beautiful, even though deformed, rich though penniless. 
 Kings though they be slaves. We who are not wise are 
 mere exiles, runagates, enemies of our country and madmen. 
 Any fault is an unpardonable crime. To kill an old cock 
 if you do not want it is as bad as to murder your father ! " - 
 And these doctrines, he goes on to say, which are used by 
 most of us merely as something to talk about, this man, 
 Cato, absolutely believes, and tries to live by them. I shall 
 have to refer back to this when I speak of Cicero's philo- 
 sophy more at length, — but his common sense crops up 
 continually in the expressions which he uses for defending 
 the ordinary conditions of a man's life in opposition to that 
 impossible superiority to mundane things which the philo- 
 sophers professed to teach their pupils. He turns to Cato 
 and asks him questions, — which he answers himself with 
 liis own philosophy, " Would you pardon nothing ? Well ; 
 yes ; but not all things. Would you do nothing for friend- 
 ship ? Sometimes ; — unless duty should stand in the way- 
 Would you never be moved to pity ? I would maintain 
 my habit of sincerity, but something must no doubt be 
 
 ^ Horace, Epis. i. xvii : — 
 
 " Si sciret regibus iiti 
 Fastidiret olus qui me uotat. " 
 
 ^ Pro Murena, xxis.
 
 232 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 allowed to humanity. It is good to stick to your opinion ; 
 — but only until some better opinion shall have prevailed 
 with you." In all this the humanity of our Cicero as 
 opposed equally to the impossible virtue of a Cato or the 
 abominable vice of a Verres, is in advance of his age and 
 reminds us of what Christ has taught us. 
 
 But the best morsel in the whole oration is that in which 
 he snubs the lawyers. It must be understood that Cicero 
 did not pride himself on being a lawyer. He was an ad- 
 vocate, and if he wanted law there were those of an inferior 
 grade to whom he could go to get it. In truth he did 
 understand the law, being a man of deep research, who 
 inquired into everything. As legal points had been raised 
 he thus addresses Sulpicius, who seems to have affected a 
 knowledge of jurisprudence, who had been a candidate for 
 the Consulship, and who was his own intimate friend. " I 
 must put you out of your conceit," he says ; " it was your 
 other gifts, not a knowledge of the laws, — your moderation, 
 your wisdom, your justice, which in my opinion, made you 
 worthy of being loved. I will not say you threw away your 
 time in studying law, but it was not thus you made your- 
 self worthy of the Consulship.^ That power of eloquence, 
 majestic and full of dignity, which has so often availed 
 in raising a man to the Consulship, is able by its words to 
 move the -minds of the Senate and the people, and the 
 
 ' Pro Murena, x. TliiH Siilpicms was afterwards Consul witli M. Marcellus, 
 find in ilic day.s of tlic riiilippics was sent as one of a doimtalion to Antony. 
 Ilf dicil wliili^ on till' joiirnGy. lie is said to liavo been a man of excellent 
 character. — an.l a tliorouf^li-^oing Conservative.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 233 
 
 judges.' But in such a poor science as that of Law what 
 honour can there be ? Its details are taken up with mere 
 words and fragments of words.- They foi'get all equity in 
 points of law and. stick to the mere letter." ^ He goes 
 through a presumed scene of chicanery, which, Consul as 
 he was, he must have acted before the judges and the people, 
 no doubt to the extreme delight of them all. At last he 
 says, " Full as I am of business, if you raise my wrath 
 I will make myself a lawyer and learn it all in three 
 days." * From these and many other passages in Cicero's 
 writings and speeches, and also from Quintilian, we learn 
 that a Eoman advocate was by no means the same as an 
 English barrister. The science which he was supposed to 
 liave learned was simply that of telling his story in effective 
 language. It no doubt came to pass that he had much to 
 do in getting up the details of his story, — what we may 
 call the evidence. But he looked elsewhere, to men of 
 another pi'ofession, for his law. The " Juris-consultus " or 
 the "Juris peritus," was the lawyer, and as such was 
 regarded as being of much less importance than the 
 "patronus" or advocate, who stood before the whole city 
 and pleaded the cause. In this trial of Murena, who was 
 by trade a soldier, it suited Cicero to belittle lawyers and 
 to extol the army. When he is telling Sulpicius that it 
 was not by being a lawyer that a man could become Consul, 
 he goes on to praise the high dignity of his client's 
 profession. " The greatest glory is achieved by those who 
 
 ^ Pro Murena, xi. ^ lb. xi. 
 
 3 lb. xii. * lb. xiii.
 
 234 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 excel in battle. All our empire, all our republic is defended 
 and made strong by tlieni. " ^ It was tlius tliat the advocate 
 could speak ! This conies from the man who always took 
 glory to himself in declaring that the "toga" was superior 
 to helmet and shield ! He had already declared that they 
 erred who thought that they were going to get his own 
 private opinion in speeches made in law courts.^ He knew 
 how to defend his friend Murena, who was a soldier, and 
 in doing so could say very sharp things, though yet in joke, 
 against his friend Sulpicius, the lawyer. But in truth few 
 men understood the Eoman law better than did Cicero. 
 
 But we must go back to that agrarian law respecting 
 wliich, as he tells us, four of his consular speeches were 
 made. This had been brought forward by EuUus, one of 
 the Tribunes, towards the end of the last year. The 
 Tribunes came into office in December, whereas at this 
 period of the Eepublic, the Consuls were in power only 
 on and from January 1st. Cicero, who had been unable 
 to get tlie particulars of the new law till it had been 
 proclaimed, had but a few days to master its details. It 
 was to liis thinking altogether revolutionary. We have the 
 words of many of the clauses, and though it is difficult at 
 this distance of time to realise what would have been its 
 effect, I think we are entitled to say that it was intended 
 to subvert all property. Property, speaking of it generally, 
 cannot be destroyed. The land remains, and the combined 
 results of mail's industry are too numerous, too large, and 
 
 ^ Pro Muri.iiii, xi. * Pro Cluentio, 1. 
 
 I
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 235 
 
 too lasting to become a wholesale prey to man's anger or 
 madness. Even the elements when out of order can do 
 but little towards perfecting destruction. A deluge is 
 wanted ; — or that crash of doom which, whether it is to 
 come or not, is believed by the world to be very distant. 
 But it is within human power to destroy possession and 
 redistribute the goods which industry, avarice, or perhaps 
 injustice have congregated. They who own property are in 
 these days so much stronger than those who have none that 
 an idea of any such redistribution does not create much alarm 
 among the possessors. The spirit of communism does not 
 prevail among people who have learned that it is in truth 
 easier to earn than to steal. But with the Romans political 
 economy had naturally not advanced so far as with us. 
 A subversion of property had to a great extent taken place 
 no later than in Sulla's time. How this had been efiected 
 the story of the property of Iloscius Amerinus has ex- 
 plained to VIS. Under Sulla's enactments no man with a 
 house, with hoarded money, with a family of slaves, wdtli 
 rich ornaments, was safe. Property had been made to 
 change hands recklessly, ruthlessly, violently by the illegal 
 application of a law promulgated by a single individual, — 
 who, however, had himself been instigated by no other idea 
 than that of re-establishing the political order of things 
 which he approved. Rullus, probably with other motives, 
 was desirous of effecting a subversion which, though equally 
 great, should be made altogether in a difierent direction. 
 The ostensible purpose was something as follows. As the 
 Roman people had by their valour and wisdom achieved
 
 236 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 for Eome great victories and therefore great wealth, they, 
 as Eoman citizens, were entitled to the enjoyment of what 
 they had won; whereas, in fact, the sweets of victory fell 
 to the lot only of a few aristocrats. For the reform of this 
 evil it should he enacted that all public property which had 
 been thus acquired, — whether land or chattels, — should be sold, 
 and with the proceeds other lands should be bought fit for 
 the use of Eoman citizens, and be given to those who should 
 choose to have it. It was specially suggested that the rich 
 country called the Campania, — that in which iSTaples now 
 stands with its adjacent isles, — should be bought up and 
 given over to a great Eoman colony. For the purpose of 
 carrying out this law ten magistrates should be appointed 
 with plenipotentiary power both as to buying and selling. 
 Tliere were many underplots in this. ISTo one need sell 
 unless he' chose to selL But at this moment much land 
 was held by no other title than that of Sulla's proscriptions. 
 The present possessors were in daily fear of dispossession 
 by some new law made with the object of restoring their 
 property to those who had been so cruelly robbed. These 
 would be very glad to get any price in hand for land of 
 wliicli their tenure was so doubtful; and these were the 
 men whom the " decemviri," or ten magistrates, would be 
 anxious to assist. We are told that the father-in-law of 
 Eullus himself had made a large acquisition by his use of 
 Sulla's proscriptions. And then there would be the in- 
 stantaneous selling of tlie vast districts obtained by conquest, 
 and now licld by the Eoman State. AVlicn so much land 
 would be tluowii into the mai'kct, it would be sold very
 
 CICERO AS COXSUL. 237 
 
 cheap, — and would be sold to those whom the " decemviri " 
 might choose to favour ! We can hardly now hope to un- 
 ravel all the intended details, but we may be sure that 
 the basis on which property stood would have been al- 
 together changed by the measure. The " decemviri " were 
 to have plenary power for ten years. All the taxes in all 
 the provinces were to be sold, — or put up to market. 
 Everything supposed to belong to the Koraan State was to 
 be sold in every province, for the sake of collecting together 
 a huge sum of money which was to be divided in the shape 
 of land among the poorer Eomans. Whatever may have 
 been the private intentions of EuUus, whether good or bad 
 it is evident, even at this distance of time, that a re-dis- 
 tribution of property was intended which can only be 
 described as a general subversion. To this the new Consul 
 opposed himself vehemently, successfully, and, we must 
 needs say, patriotically. 
 
 The intense interest which Cicero threw into his work 
 is as manifest in these agrarian orations as in those subse- 
 quently made as to the Catiline conspiracy. He ascends in 
 his energy to a dignity of self-praise which induces the reader 
 to feel that a man who could so speak of himself without 
 fear of contradiction had a right to assert the supremacy of 
 liis own character and intellect. He condescends on the 
 other hand to a virulence of personal abuse against Eullus 
 which, though it is to our taste offensive, is, eveu to us, 
 persuasive, making us feel that such a man should not have 
 undertaken such a work. He is describing the way in which 
 the bill was first introduced; "Our Tribunes at last enter
 
 238 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 upon tlieir office. The harangue to be made by Eullus is 
 especially expected. He is the projector of the law, and it 
 Avas expected that he would carry himself with an air of 
 special audacity. When he was only Tribune-elect he began 
 to put on a different countenance, to speak with a different 
 voice, to walk with a different step. We all saw how he 
 appeared with soiled raiment, witli his person uncared for 
 and foul with dirt, with his hair and beard uncombed and 
 untrimmed." ^ In Eome, men under afflictions, particularly 
 if under accusation, showed themselves in soiled garments 
 so as to attract pity, and the meaning here is that Paillus 
 went about as though under grief at the condition of his 
 poor fellow citizens who were distressed by the want of tliis 
 agrarian law. No description could be more likely to turn an 
 individual into ridicule than this of his taking upon himself 
 to represent in his own person the sorrows of the city. The 
 picture of the man with the self-assumed garments of public 
 woe, as though he were big enough to exhibit the grief of all 
 Eome, couhl not but be effective. It has been supposed that 
 Cicero was insulting the Tribune because he was dirty. Not 
 so. He was ridiculing EuUus because Eullus had dared to go 
 about in mourning, — " sordidatus," — on behalf of his country. 
 Bat the tone in which Cicero speaks of himself is mag- 
 nificent. It is so grand as to make us feel that a Consul 
 of Eome wlio liad tlie cares of Eome on his shoulders, was 
 entitled to declare his own greatness to the Senate and to 
 tlio peoi)l('. Tliere are tlie two ini[)ortant orations, that 
 
 ' De Lege Agraria, ii. 5.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 239 
 
 spoken first in the Senate, and tlien tlie speecli to the 
 people from which I have already quoted the passage 
 personal to Rullus. In both of them he declares his own 
 idea of a Consul and of himself as Consul. He has been 
 speaking of the effect of the proposed law on the revenues 
 of the State, and then proceeds; " But .1 pass by what I 
 have to say on that matter and reserve it for the people. 
 I speak now of the danger which menaces our safety and 
 our liberty. For what will there be left to us untouched 
 in the Eepublic, what will remain of your authority and 
 freedom, when Eullus, and those whom you fear much more 
 than Eullus,^ with this band of ready knaves, with all the 
 rascaldom of Eome, laden with gold and silver, shall have 
 seized on Capua and all the cities round ? To all this, 
 Senators," — Patres conscript! he calls them, — " I will oppose 
 what power I have. As long as I am Consul I will not 
 suffer them to carry out their designs against the Eepublic. 
 
 " But you, Eullus, and those who are with you, have been 
 mistaken grievously in supposing that you will be regarded 
 as friends of the people in your attempts to subvert the 
 Eepublic in opposition to a Consul who is known in very 
 truth to be the people's friend. I call upon you, I invite 
 you to meet me in the assembly. Let us have the people 
 of Eome as a judge between us. Let us look round and see 
 
 ^ He alludes here to his own colleague Antony, whom through his whole 
 year of office he had to watch lest the second Consul should join the enemies 
 whom he fears, — should support Kullus or go over to Catiline. Witli this 
 view, choosing the lesser of the two evils, he bribes Antony with the govern- 
 ment of Macedonia.
 
 240 - LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 what it is that the people really desire. "VVe shall find that 
 
 there is nothing so dear to them as peace, and quietness, and 
 
 ease. You have handed over the city to me full of anxiety, 
 
 depressed with fear, disturbed by these projected laws and 
 
 seditious assemblies." It must be remembered that he had 
 
 only on that very day begun his Consulship. " The wicked 
 
 you have tilled with hope, the good with fear. You have 
 
 robbed the Forum of loyalty and the Eepublic of dignity. 
 
 But now when in the midst of these troubles of mind and 
 
 body, when. in this great darkness the voice and the authority 
 
 of the Consul has been heard by the people, when he shall 
 
 have made it plain that there is no cause for fear, that no 
 
 strange army shall enrol itself, no bands collect themselves ; 
 
 that there shall be no new colonies, uo sale of the revenue, 
 
 no altered empire, no royal ' decemvirs,' no second Rome, 
 
 no other centre of rule but this, that while I am Consul 
 
 there shall be perfect peace, perfect ease, do you suppose 
 
 til at I shall dread the superior popularity of your new 
 
 agrarian law ? Shall I, do you think, be afraid to hold my 
 
 own against you in an assembly of the citizens when I shall 
 
 have exposed the iniquity of your designs, the fraud of this 
 
 law, the plots which your Tribunes of the people, — popular 
 
 as they think themselves, — have contrived against the Eoman 
 
 people ? Shall I fear, I who have deternniied to be Consul 
 
 iifLcr that fasliion in which alone a man may do so in dignity 
 
 and freedom, — resolving to ask nothing for myself whicli 
 
 any Tribune could o'hjcct to liave given to me ?"^ 
 
 ' De Lego Agraria, i. 7 ami 8.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 241 
 
 This was to tlie Senate, but he is bolder still, when he 
 addresses the people. He begins by reminding them 
 that it has always been the custom of the great officers 
 of state, who have enjoyed the right of having in their 
 houses the busts and images of their ancestors, in their 
 first speech to the people, to join with thanks for the 
 favours done to themselves some records of the noble 
 deeds done by their forefathers.-^ He however could do 
 nothin" of the kind. He had no such right, IS'one in 
 his family had achieved such dignity. To speak of himself 
 might seem too proud ; but to be silent would be ungrateful. 
 Therefore would he restrain himself, — but would stUl say 
 something ; so that he might acknowledge what he had 
 received. Then he would leave it for them to judge 
 whether he had deserved what they had done for him. 
 
 " It is long ago, — almost beyond the memory of us now 
 here, — since you last made a new man Consul.^ That 
 high office the nobles had reserved for themselves and 
 defended it as it were with ramparts. You have secured it 
 for me, — so that in future it shall be open to any who may 
 be worthy of it. Nor have you only made me Consul, 
 much as that is ; but you have done so in such a fashion 
 that but few among the old nobles have been so treated, 
 
 ^ The "jus imaginis" belonged to those among whose ancestors were 
 counted an JEdile, a Pr?etor, or a Consul. The descendants of such officers 
 were entitled to have these images, whether in bronze, or marble, or wax, 
 carried at the funerals of their friends. 
 
 - Forty years since !Marius, who was also "novns homo," and also singu- 
 larly enough from Arpinum, had been made Consul ; — but not witli the 
 glorious circumstances as now detailed by Cicero. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 242 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 — and no new man, ' Novus ante me nemo.' I have, if 
 YOU will think of it, been the only new man who has stood 
 for the Consulship, in the first year in which it was legal, 
 and who has got it." Then he goes on to remind them 
 in words which I have quoted before that they had elected 
 him by their unanimous voices. All this, he says, had 
 been very grateful to him, but he had quite understood 
 that it had been done that he might labour on their behalf. 
 That such labour was severe, he declares. The Consulship 
 itself must be defended. His period of Consulship to any 
 Consul must be a year of grave responsibility, but more 
 so to him than to any other. To him, should he be in doubt, 
 the great nobles would give no kind advice. To him, should 
 he be overtasked, they would give no assistance. But the 
 first thing he would look for should be their good opinion. 
 To declare now, before the people, that he would exercise 
 his office for the good of the people was his natural duty. 
 But in that place in which it was difficult to speak after 
 such a fashion, in the Senate itself, on the very first day 
 of his Consulship, he had declared the same thing, — "popu- 
 larem me futurum esse oonsulem," ^ 
 
 The course he had to pursue was noble, but very difficult. 
 He desired certainly to be recognised as a friend of the 
 people, l)ut he desired so to befriend them tliat he might 
 siipport also at the same time the power of the aristocracy. 
 He still believed, as we cannot believe now, that there was 
 a residuum u'i good in the Senate sufficient to blossom 
 
 I 
 
 Do Lege Agraria, ii. 1, 2, and 3.
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 243 
 
 forth into new powers of honest government. When 
 speaking to the oligarchs in the Senate of EuUus and his 
 land law it was easy enough to carry them with him. 
 That a Consul should oppose a Tribune who was coming 
 forward with a " Lex agraria " in his hands, as the latest 
 disciple of the Gracchi, was not out of the common order 
 of things. Another Consul would either have looked for 
 popularity and increased power of plundering, as Antony 
 might have done, — or have stuck to his order, as he would 
 have called it, as might have been the case with the Cottas, 
 Lepiduses, and Pisos of preceding years. But Cicero 
 determined to oppose the demagogue Tribune by proving 
 himself to the people to be more of a demagogue than 
 he. He succeeded, and RuUus with his agrarian law was 
 sent back into darkness. I regard the second speech against 
 Rullus as the "ne plus ultra," the very beau-id^al of a 
 political harangue to the people on the side of order and 
 good government. 
 
 I cannot finish this chapter in which I have attempted 
 to describe the lesser operations of Cicero's Consulship 
 without again alluding to the picture drawn by Virgil of 
 a great man quelling the storms of a seditious rising by 
 the gravity of his presence and the weight of his words.^ 
 The poet surely had in his memory some occasion in which 
 had taken place this great triumph of character and intellect 
 combined. When the kniglits during Cicero's Consulship 
 assayed to take their privileged places in the public theatre 
 
 "^ See page 10. 
 
 K 2
 
 244 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 in accordance with a law passed by Eoscius Otlio a few 
 years earlier, (B.C. 68,) the founder of the obnoxious law 
 himself entered the building. The people enraged against 
 a man who had interfered wdth them and their pleasures, 
 and who had brought them as it were under new restraints 
 from the aristocracy, arose in a body and began to break 
 everything that came to hand. "Turn pietate gravem!" 
 The Consul was sent for. He called on the people to 
 follow him out of the theatre to the temple of Bellona, 
 and there addressed to them that w^onderful oration, by 
 which they were sent away not only pacified but in good 
 humour with Otho himself. " Iste regit dictis animos et 
 pectora mulcet." I have spoken of Pliny's eulogy as to 
 the great Consul's doings of the year. The passage is short 
 and I will translate it.' "But Marcus Tullius, how shall 
 I reconcile it to myself to be silent as to you, or by what 
 special glory shall I best declare your excellence? How 
 better than by referring to the grand testimony given to 
 you by the whole nation, and to the achievements of your 
 Consulship as a specimen of your entire life ? At your voice 
 the tribes gave up their agrarian law, which was as the very 
 bread in their mouths. At your persuasion they pardoned 
 Otho liis law, and bore with good humour the difference of 
 tlie seats assigned to them. At your prayer tlie children 
 of tlie proscribed forbore from demanding their rights of 
 citizenship. Catiline was put to ihght by your skill and 
 eloquence. It was you who silenced '-^ M. Antony, Hail, 
 
 ^ I'liny tho (^Ider, Hist. Nat. lib. vii. ca. xxxi. 
 
 - The word is " proscripsisti," " you proscribed him. " Tor the proper under-
 
 CICERO AS CONSUL. 245 
 
 thou who wert first addressed as the father of your country, 
 — the first who in the garb of peace hast deserved a triumpli 
 and won the laurel wreath of eloquence." This was grand 
 praise to be spoken of a man more than a hundred years 
 after his death by one who had no peculiar sympathies with 
 him other than those created by literary affinity. 
 
 None of Cicero's letters have come to us from the year 
 of his Consulship. 
 
 standing of this, the bearing of Cicero toAvards Antony during the whole 
 period of the Philippics must be considered.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CATILINE. 
 
 To wasli the hlackamoor white has been the favourite 
 task of some modern historians. To find a paradox in 
 character is a relief to the investigating mind which does 
 not care to walk always in the well-tried paths or to follow 
 the grooves made plain and uninteresting by earlier writers. 
 Tiberius and even Nero have been praised. The memories 
 of our early years have been shocked by instructions to regard 
 Richard III. and Henry V^ITI. as great and scrupulous kings. 
 The devil may have been painted blacker than he should be, 
 and tlic minds of just men, who will not accept the verdict 
 of the inajority, have been much exercised to put the matter 
 right. We are now told that Catiline was a popular hero ; 
 that, though he might have wished to murder Cicero, he 
 was, in accordance with the practice of his days, not much 
 to ])(' blaiiuMl for tliat; and that he was simply the follower 
 ol' llic ( iiiicc.lii and tlic fdrcruniicr of Caesar in his desire to 
 o]»|iose tin; oliujircliy of IJoinc' In tliis there is much that 
 is true. Murdcc was fM)nimon. He who had seen the 
 
 ' t'utiliiir, l,y Mr. l'„..-.sly. " l''..i tiii;^Iitly l{.n'i.'w/' ]8(i5.
 
 CATILINE. 217 
 
 Sullan proscriptions, as both Catiline and Cicero had done, 
 might well have learned to feel less scrupulous as to blood 
 than we do in these days. Even Cicero, who of all the 
 Itomans was the most humane, — even he, no doubt, 
 would have been well contented that Catiline should liave 
 been destroyed by the people.^ Even he was the cause, 
 as we shall see just now, of the execution of the leaders 
 of the conspirators whom Catiline left behind him in the 
 city, — an execution of which the legality is at any rate 
 very doubtful. But in judging even of bloodshed we have 
 to regard the circumstances of the time in the verdicts we 
 give. Our consciousness of altered manners and of the 
 growth of gentleness force this upon us. We cannot execrate 
 the conspirators who murdered Ctesar as we would do those 
 who might now plot the death of a tyrant. Nor can we 
 deal as heavily with the murderers of Caesar as we would 
 have done then with Catilinarian conspirators in Rome, 
 had Catiline's conspiracy succeeded. And so, too, in ac- 
 knowledging that Catiline was the outcome of the Gracchi, 
 and to some extent the preparation for Caesar, we must 
 again compare him with them, his motives and designs with 
 theirs, before we can allow ourselves to sympathise with 
 him because there was much in them worthy of praise 
 and honour. 
 
 That the Gracchi were seditious no historian has I think 
 
 ^ Pro Murena, xxv. "Quern omnino viviim illiuc exire nou oportuerat." 
 I tliiuk we must conclude from this that Cicero had almost expected that his 
 attack iipon the conspirators in his first Catiline oratiou would have the 
 effect of causing' him to Le killed.
 
 248 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 denied. They were willing to nse tlie usages and laws of 
 the Eepublic where those usages and laws assisted them, 
 but as Avilling to act illegally when the usages and laws 
 ran counter to them. In the reforms or changes which they 
 attempted, they were undoubtedly rebels ; but no reader 
 comes across the tale of the death, first of one and then 
 of the other, without a regret. It has to be owned that they 
 were murdered in tumults which they themselves had occa- 
 sioned. But they were honest, and patriotic. History has 
 declared of them that their efforts were made with the real 
 purport of relieving their fellow-countrymen from AA-hat they 
 believed to be the tyranny of oligarchs. The Eepublic even 
 in their time had become too rotten to be saved ; but the 
 world has not the less given them the credit for a desire 
 to do good ; and the names of the two brothers, rebels as 
 they were, have come down to us with a sweet savour 
 about them. Caesar on the other hand was no doubt of 
 the same political party. He too was opposed to the 
 oligarchs, but it never occurred to him that he could save 
 the Eepublic by any struggles after freedom. His mind 
 M'as not given to patriotism of that sort, — not to memories, 
 not to associations. Even laws were nothing to him but 
 as they might be useful. To his thinking, probably even 
 in his early days, the state of Eonie required a master. 
 Its wealth, its pleasures, its soldiers, its power were there 
 fur any one to lake who could take them, — for any one to 
 liold who coiilil hold them. ]\lr. Tx'esly, tlie last defender 
 of CatiliiH!, has stated that very little was known in Eome 
 of CiL'sar till the time of Catiline's conspiracy, and in that
 
 CATILINE. 249 
 
 I agree with him. He possessed high family rank, and 
 had heen Qutestor and ^Edile, — hut it was only from this 
 year out that his name was much in men's mouths and 
 that he was learning to look into things. It may be that 
 he had previously been in league with Catiline, — that he 
 was in league with him till the time came for the great 
 attempt. The evidence as far as it goes seems to show 
 that it was so. Eome had been the prey of many con- 
 spiracies. The dominion of Marius and the dominion of 
 Sulla had been effected by conspiracies. Xo doubt the 
 opinion was strong with many that both C?esar, and Crassus 
 the rich man, were concerned with Catiline. But Csesar 
 was very far-seeing and, if such connection existed, knew 
 how to withdraw from it when the time was not found to 
 be opportune. But from first to last he always was opposed 
 to the oligarchy. The various steps, from the Gracchi 
 to him, were as those which had to be made from the 
 Girondists to Napoleon. Catiline no doubt was one of 
 the steps, — as were Dantou and Eobespierre steps. The 
 continuation of steps in each case was at first occasioned 
 by the bad government and greed of a few men in power. 
 But as Eobespierre was vile and low wdiereas Vergniaud 
 was honest and ISTapoleou great ; so was it with Catiline 
 between the Gracclii and Csesar. There is to my thinking 
 no excuse for Catiline in the fact that he was a natural stejj, 
 — not even though he were a necessary step between the 
 Gracchi and Cassar. 
 
 I regard as futile the attempts which are made to re- write 
 history on the base of moral convictions and philosophical
 
 250 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 conclusion. History very often lias been, and no doubt 
 often again will be, re-written, with good effect and in the 
 service of truth, on the finding of new facts. Eecords have 
 been brought to light which have hitlierto been buried, and 
 testimonies are compared with testimonies whicli have not 
 before been seen together. But to imagine that a man may 
 have been good who has lain under the ban of all the his- 
 torians, all the poets, and all the tellers of anecdotes, — and 
 then to declare such goodness simply in accordance with the 
 dictates of a generous heart or a contradictory spirit, is to 
 disturb rather than to assist history. Of Catiline we at least 
 know that he headed a sedition in Eome in the year of 
 Cicero's consulship, that he left the city suddenly, that he 
 was killed in the neighbourhood of Pistoia fighting against 
 the generals of the Eepublic, and that he left certain accom- 
 plices in Eome who were put to death by an edict of the 
 Senate. So much I think is certain to the most truculent 
 doubter. From his contemporaries, Sallust and Cicero, we 
 have a very strongly expressed opinion of his character. 
 They have left to us denunciations of the man which have 
 made him odious to all after ages, so that modern poets have 
 made him a stock character and have dramatised him as a 
 iiend. X'olLaire has described him as calHng upon his fellow- 
 conspirators to murder Cicero and Cato, and to Ijurn the 
 city. Ben Jonson makes Catiline kill a slave and mix his 
 blood, to be drained by his friends. " There cannot be a 
 fitter drink to make this sanction in." The friends of 
 (Jatiline will say that this shows no evidence against the 
 jiiaii. None certainly; — but it is a continued expression
 
 CAT I LINE. 251 
 
 of the feeling that has prevailed since Catiline's time. In 
 his own age Cicero and Sallust, who were opposed in all 
 their political views, combined to speak ill of him. \\\ 
 the next Virgil makes him as suffering his punishment in 
 hell.' In the next Velleius Paterculus speaks of him as 
 the conspirator whom Cicero had banished.^ Juvenal makes 
 various allusions to him, but all in the same spirit. Juvenal 
 cared nothing for history, but used the names of well known 
 persons as illustrations of the idea which he was presenting.^ 
 Valerius Maximus who wrote commendable little essays 
 about all the virtues and all the vices which he illustrated 
 with the names of all the vicious and all the virtuous people 
 he knew, is very severe on Catiline.^ Florus who wrote two 
 centuries and a half after the conspiracy gives us of Catiline 
 the same personal story as that told both by Sallust and 
 Cicero, — " Debauchery in the first place, and then the 
 poverty wdiich that had produced, — and then the oppor- 
 tunity of the time, because the Eoman armies were in dis- 
 tant lands, induced Catiline to conspire for the destruction 
 
 1 iEii-id, viii. 668 : — 
 
 " Tp, r'r.tiliiia, niiriaci 
 Pendenteni scopuJo." 
 
 ' Velleius Paterculus, lib. ii. xxxiv. 
 
 ^ Juvenal, ?at. ii. 27. " Catiliua Cetliegura !" Could such a one as 
 Tatiiine answer such a one as Cethegus ? Sat. viii. 232. — " Arma tamen vos 
 Nocturna et flammas domibiis templisque parastis." Catiline in spite of his 
 noble blood had endeavoured to burn the cit}'^. Sat. xiv. 41, "Catilinam 
 qnocunqne in populo videas." It is hard to find a good man, but il is easy 
 enough to put your hand anywhere on a Catih'ne. 
 
 ■» Val. iLixiuiiis, lib. v. viii. .5 ; lib. ix. 1, 9; lib ix. xi. 3.
 
 252 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of his country." ^ Mommsen who was certainly biased by 
 no feeling in favour of Cicero declares that Catiline in 
 particular was " one of the most nefarious men in that 
 nefarious age. His villanies belong to the criminal records 
 not to history." ^ All this is no evidence. Cicero and Sallust 
 may possibly have combined to lie about Catiline. Other 
 Eoman writers may have followed them, and modern poets 
 and modern historians may have followed the Eoman writers. 
 It is possible that the world may have been wrong as to a 
 period of Eoman history with which it has thought itself to 
 be well acquainted. But tlie world now has nothing to go 
 by but the facts as they have come down to it. The writers 
 of the ages since have combined to speak of Cicero with 
 respect and admiration. They have combined also to speak 
 of Catiline with abhorrence. They have agreed also to treat 
 those other rebels the Gracchi after such a fashion that in 
 spite of their sedition a sweet savour, as I have said, attaches 
 itself to their names. For myself I am contented to take 
 the opinion of the world and feel assured that I shall do 
 no injustice in speaking of Catiline as all who have written 
 about him hitherto, have spoken of him. I cannot consent 
 to the building up of a, noble patriot out of such materials 
 as we have conf('rnini>' liiiu.^ 
 
 ' Flonis, lib. iv. 
 
 * Momrnsen's History of ]{oiiie, Book v. chap. v. 
 
 ' I ("eel myself coiistniined here to allnde to tlie trfatiiiout j^iveii to Catiline 
 by Dean Merivale in his little work on the two I'oinan triumvirates. The 
 Dean's sympathies are very near akin to thosi^ of Mr. Htie.sly, but he values 
 too highly hisown histori<al judf^incnt to allow it to luii on all fours with Mr. 
 Kecsly's .sympathies. "The leal desi^^ns," he; says, "of the infamous Catiline
 
 CATILINE. 253 
 
 Two strong points have been made for Catiline in Mr. 
 Beesly's defence. His ancestors liad been Consuls when 
 the forefathers of patricians of a later date " were clapping 
 their chopped hands and throwing up their sweaty night- 
 caps." That scorn against the people should be expressed 
 by the aristocrat Casca was well supposed by Shakespeare ; 
 but how did a liberal of the present day bring himself to 
 do honour to his hero by such allusions ? In truth, however, 
 the glory of ancient blood and the disgrace attaching to the 
 signs of labour are ideas seldom relinquished even by demo- 
 cratic minds. A Howard is nowhere lovelier than in 
 America, or a sweaty nightcap less relished. We are then 
 reminded how Catiline died fighting, with the wounds all 
 in front, and are told that the " world has generally a 
 generous word for the memory of a brave man dying for 
 his cause, be that cause what it will. But for Catiline 
 none ! " I think there is a mistake in the sentiment ex- 
 pressed here. To die readily when death must come is 
 
 and his associates must indeed always remain shrouded in myster}'. .... 
 Nevertheless it is impossible to deny, and on the whole it would be unreason- 
 able to doubt, that such a conspiracy there really was, and that the very 
 existence of the commonwealth was for a moment seriously imperilled." It 
 would certainly be unreasonable to doubt it. But the Dean, though lie 
 calls Catiline infamous and acknowledges the conspiracy, nevertheless 
 gives us ample proof of his sympathy with the conspirators, — or rather of 
 his strong feeling against Cicero. Speaking of Catiline at a certain moment, 
 he says that he "was not yet hunted down." He speaks of the " upstart 
 Cicero," — and plainly shows us that his heart is^vith the sidcMliich had been 
 Cffisar's. Whether conspiracy or no conspiracy, whether with or without 
 wholesale murder and rapine, a single master with a strong hand was the one 
 remedy needed for Eome ! The reader must understand that Cicero's one 
 object in public life was to resist that lesson.
 
 254 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 but a little thing, and is done daily by the poorest of 
 mankind. The Eomans could generally do it, and so can 
 the Chinese. A Zulu is quite equal to it, and people lower 
 in civilisation than Chinese or Zulus. To encounter death 
 or the danger of death, for the sake of duty, — when the 
 choice is there, but duty and death are preferred to igno- 
 minious security, or better still to security which shall 
 bring with it self-abasement, — that is grand. When I hear 
 that a man " Ptushed into the field and foremost fighting 
 fell," if there have been no adequate occasion, I think 
 him a fool. If it be that he has chosen to hurry on the 
 necessary event, as was Catiline's case, I recognise him as 
 having been endowed with certain physical attributes which 
 are neither glorious nor disgraceful. That Catiline was 
 constitutionally a brave man no one has denied. Eush the 
 murderer was one of the bravest men of whom I remember 
 to have heard. What credit is due to Eush is due to 
 Catiline. 
 
 What we believe to be the story of Catiline's life is this. 
 In Sulla's time he was engaged, as behoved a great nobleman 
 of ancient blood, in carrying out the Dictator's proscriptions 
 and in running through whatever means he had. There are 
 fearful stories told of him as to murdering his own son and 
 other relatives, — as to which Mr. Beesly is no doubt right 
 in saying that such talcs were too lightly told in Eome to 
 deserve implicit confidence. To serve a purpose any one 
 would say anything of any enemy. Very marvellous quali- 
 ties are attriljuicjd to him, — as to having been at tlie same 
 time steeped in luxury and yet able and willing to bear all
 
 CATILINE. 255 
 
 bodily hardships. He probably had been engaged in 
 murders, — as how should a man not have been so who had 
 served under Sulla during the dictatorship ? He had pro- 
 bably allured some young aristocrats into debauchery, when 
 all young aristocrats were so allured. He had probably 
 undergone some extremity of cold and hunger. In reading 
 of these things the reader will know by instinct how much 
 he may believe, and how much he should receive as mythic. 
 That he was a fast young nobleman, brought up to know 
 no scruples, to disregard blood, and to look upon his country 
 as a milch-cow from which a young nobleman might be fed 
 Avith never ending streams of rich cream in the shape of 
 money to be borrowed, wealth to be snatched, and, above all, 
 foreigners to be plundered, we may take, I think, as proved. 
 In spite of his vices, or by aid of them, he rose in the 
 service of his country. That such a one should become 
 a Prsetor and a Governor was natural. He went to Africa 
 with proconsular authority, and of course fleeced the 
 Africans. It was as natural as that a flock of sheep should 
 lose their wool at shearing time. He came back intent, as 
 was natural also, on being a Consul, and of carrying on the 
 game of promotion and of plunder. But there came a spoke 
 in his wheel, — the not unusual spoke, of an accusation from 
 the province. While under accusation for provincial robbery 
 he could not come forward as a candidate, and thus he was 
 stopped in his career. 
 
 It is not possible now to unravel all the personal feuds of 
 the time, — the ins and outs of family quarrels. Clodius, 
 the Clodius who was afterwards Cicero's notorious enemy
 
 256 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 and the victim of Milo's fury, became the accuser of Catiliue 
 on behalf of the Africans. Though Clodius was much the 
 younger, they were men of the same class. It may be 
 possible that Clodius was appointed to the work, — as it had 
 been intended that Ca^cilius should be appointed at the 
 prosecution of Verres, — in order to assure, not the conviction, 
 but the acquittal of the guilty man. The historians and 
 biographers say that Clodius was at last bought by a bribe, 
 and that he betrayed the Africans after that fashion. It 
 may be that such bribery was arranged from the first. Our 
 interest in that trial lies in the fact that Cicero no doubt 
 intended, from political motives, to defend Catiline. It has 
 been said that he did do so. As far as we know, he 
 abandoned the intention. ^Ve have no trace of his speech 
 and no allusion in history to an occurrence which would 
 certainly have been mentioned.-^ But there was no reason 
 why he should not have done so. He defended Fonteius, 
 and I am quite willing to own that he knew Fonteius to 
 have been a robber. When I look at the practice of our 
 own times, I find that thieves and rebels are defended by 
 honourable advocates, who do not scruple to take their briefs 
 in opposition to their own opinions. It suited Cicero to do 
 the same. If I were detected in a i)lot for blowing up a 
 Cabinet Council I do not doubt but that I should get the 
 late Att(ji'ii('V-(!en(;r<il to defend me.^ 
 
 ' Asconins "in toga Candida," reports that Feiiestella, a writer of the 
 lirn" of AiigiisluH, liiid di^clared that Cicero had defended Catiline ; but 
 Asc^HiiuH gives liis reasons for disbelieving the story. 
 
 '^ Cicero, however, declares that he has made a dill'erence between traitors
 
 CATILINE. 257 
 
 But Catiline, though he was acquitted, was baulked in liis 
 candidature for the Consulship of the next year, B.C. 65. P. 
 Sulla and Autronius were elected/ — that Sulla to whose 
 subsequent defence I have just referred in this note, — but 
 were ejected on the score of bribery, and two others, 
 Torquatus and Cotta, were elected in their place. In this 
 way three men standing on high before their countrymen, 
 one having been debarred from standing for the Consulship, 
 and the other two having been robbed of their prize even 
 when it was within their grasp, not unnaturally became 
 traitors at heart. Almost as naturally they came together 
 and conspired. Why should they have been selected as 
 victims, having only done that which every aristocrat did as 
 a matter of course in following out his recognised profession 
 in living upon the subject nations ? Their conduct had 
 
 to their country and other criminals. Pro P. Sulla, ca. iii. " Verum 
 etiam qtisedam contagio sceleris, si defendas eum, quern obstrictum esse patriiij 
 parricidio suspicere." Further on in the same oration, ca. vi., he explains 
 that he had refused to defend Autronius because he had known Autronius to 
 be a conspirator against his country. I cannot admit the truth of the argu- 
 ment in which Mr. Forsyth defends the practice of the English bar in this 
 respect, and in doing so presses hard upon Cicero. "At Eome," he says, " it 
 was different. The advocate there was conceived to have a much wider dis- 
 cretion than we allow." Neither in Rome nor in England has the advocate 
 been held to be disgraced by undertaking the defence of bad men who have 
 been notoriously guilty. What an English barrister may do, there was no 
 reason that a Eoman advocate should not do — in regard to simple criminality. 
 Cicero himself has explained in the passage I have quoted how the Roman 
 practice did differ from oiirs in regard to treason. He has stated also that he 
 knew nothing of the first conspiracy when he offered to defend Catiline on 
 the score of provincial peculations. No writer has been hea\'y on Hortensius 
 for defending Verres ; — but only because he took bribes from Verres. 
 ^ Publius Cornelius Sulla, and Puldius Autronius Pectus. 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 probably been tlie same as that of others, — or if more 
 glaring, only so much so as is always the case with vices as 
 they become more common. However, the three men fell, 
 and became the centre of a plot which is known as the first 
 Catiline conspiracy. 
 
 The reader must bear in mind that I am now telling tlie 
 story of Catiline, and going back to a period of two years 
 before Cicero's consulship, — which was B.C. 63. How during 
 that year, Cicero successfully defended Murena when Cato 
 endeavoured to rob him of his coming Consulship, has been 
 already told. It may be that Murena's hands were no 
 cleaner than those of Sulla and Autronius, and that they 
 lacked only the consular authority and forensic eloquence 
 of the advocate who defended Murena. At this time, when 
 the two appointed Consuls were rejected, Cicero had hardly 
 as yet taken any part in public politics. He had been 
 Quajstor, ^Edile, and Prsetor, filling those administrative 
 offices to the best of his ability. He had, he says, hardly 
 heard of the first conspiracy.^ That what he says is true, 
 is 1 think proved by the absence of all allusion to it in his 
 early letters or in the speeches or fragments of speeches 
 that are extant. But that there was such a conspiracy we 
 cannot doubt, nor that the three men named, Catiline, Sulla, 
 and Autronius, were leaders in it. What would interest us, 
 
 ^ Pro r. Sulla, iv. He declares that lie had known nothing of the first 
 conspiracy, and gives the reason, "Quod nondum pcnitus in rei^ublica vcrsa- 
 l)ar, ()uo(l noniluiii ad ])ro]io.Hituiii luilii fiiicni honoris perveneram, quod mea 
 iric anibitio ct lon.'iinis labor aK oiiini ilia (■<igllatione abstrahebat."
 
 CATILINE. 259 
 
 if only we could have the truth, is whether Ctesar and 
 Crassus were joined in it. 
 
 It is necessary again to consider the condition of the 
 Republic. To us a conspiracy to subvert the government 
 under which the conspirer lives, seems either a very terrible 
 remedy for great evils, or an attempt to do evil which all 
 good men should oppose. We have the happy conspiracy 
 in which Washington became the military leader, and the 
 French Eevolution which, bloody as it was, succeeded in 
 rescuing Frenchmen from the condition of serfdom. At 
 home we have our own conspiracy against the Stuart 
 royalty, which had also noble results. The Gracchi had 
 attempted to effect something of the same kind at Eome. 
 But the moral condition of the people had become so low 
 that no real love of liberty remained. Conspiracy ! oh yes. 
 As long as there was anything to get, of course he wdio 
 had not got it would conspire against him who had. There 
 had been conspiracies for and against Marius, for and against 
 Cinna, for and against Sulla. There was a grasping for 
 plunder, a thirst for power which meant luxury, a greed for 
 blood which grew from the hatred wdiich such rivalry pro- 
 duced ; — these were the motive causes for conspiracies ; not 
 whether Romans should be free, but whether a Sulla or a 
 Cotta should be allowed to run riot in a province. 
 
 Cffisar at this time had not done much in the Ronian 
 world, except fall greatly into debt. Knowing, as M'e do 
 know now, his immense intellectual capacity, we cannot 
 doubt, but at the age he had now reached, 35, B.C. 65, 
 he had considered deeply his prospects in life. There is 
 
 s 2
 
 260 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 no reason for supposing that lie had conceived the idea of 
 being a great soldier. That came to him, by pure accident, 
 some years afterwards. To be Qutestor, Pnetor, and Consul, 
 — and catch what was going, seems to have been the cause 
 to him of having encountered extraordinary debt. That he 
 would have been a Yerres, or a Fonteius, or a Catiline, we 
 certainly are not entitled to think. Over whatever people 
 he might have come to reign, and in whatever way he might 
 have procured his kingdom, he would have reigned with a 
 far-seeing eye, fixed upon future results. At this period he 
 was looking out for a way to advance himself. There were 
 three men, all just six years his senior, who had risen, or 
 were rising, into great repute. They were Pompey, Cicero, 
 and Catiline. There were two who were noted for having 
 clean hands in the midst of all the dirt around ; and they 
 were undoubtedly the first Ptomans of the day. Catiline 
 was determined that he too would be among the first Romans 
 of the day; but his hands had never been clean. Which 
 was the better way for such a one as Ctesar to go ? 
 
 To have had Pompey under his feet, or Cicero, must have 
 then seemed to Caisar to be impracticable, — though the time 
 came when he did, in different ways, have his feet on both. 
 With Catiline the chance of success might be better. 
 Crassus he had already compassed. Crassus was like M. 
 Poirier in the play, — a man who, having become rich, then 
 allowed himsell' llic luxury ol' an ainl)iti()n. If Cresar 
 Jtjiiicd the, plot W(! can well undci'sland tliat Crassus should 
 have gone with him. AVc liavc all but sufficient authority 
 for saying that it was so, but authority insufficient for
 
 CATILINE. 261 
 
 declaring it. Tliat Sallust in Ids short account of tlie first 
 conspiracy should not have implicated Csesar, was a matter 
 of course,^ as he wrote altogether in Csesar's interest. That 
 Cicero should not have mentioned it is also quite intelligible. 
 He did not wish to pull down upon his ears the whole house 
 of the aristocracy. Throughout his career it was his object 
 to maintain the tenor of the law, with what smallest breach 
 of it might be possible. But lie was wise enough to know 
 that when the laws were being broken on every side he 
 could not catch in his nets all those who broke them. He 
 had to pass over much ; to make the best of the state of 
 things as he found them. It is not to be supposed that 
 a conspirator against the Eepublic would be horrible to him, 
 as would be to us a traitor against the Crown. There were 
 too many of them for horror. If Ctesar and Crassus could 
 be got to keep themselves quiet, he would be willing enough 
 not to have to add them to his list of enemies. Livy is 
 presumed to have told us tliat this conspiracy intended to 
 restore the ejected Consuls, and to kill the Consuls who had 
 been established in their place. But the book in which this 
 was written is lost, and we have only the Epitome, or heading 
 of the book, of which we know that it was not written by 
 Livy.- Suetonius, who got his story not improbably from 
 Livy, tells us that Csesar was suspected of having joined 
 this conspiracy with Crassus,^ and he goes on to say that 
 Cicero, writing subsequently to one Axius, declared that 
 
 ^ Sallust, Catiliuaria xviii. * Livy Epitome, lib. ci. 
 
 ^ Suctouius, J. Cjesar, ix.
 
 262 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 " Csesar had attempted in his Consulship to accomplish the 
 dominion, which he had intended to grasp in his ^dileship," 
 — the year in question. There is, however, no such letter 
 extant. Asconius, who as I have said before wrote in the 
 time of Tiberius, declares that Cicero in his lost oration, 
 "In toga Candida," accused Crassus of having been the 
 author of the conspiracy. Such is the information we have, 
 and if we elect to believe that Ceesar was then joined with 
 Catiline, we must be guided by our ideas of probability 
 rather than by evidence.-^ As I have said before, con- 
 spiracies had been very rife. To Caesar it was no doubt 
 becoming manifest that the Eepublic with its oligarchs must 
 fall. Subsequently it did fall, and he was, — I will not say 
 the conspirator, nor will I judge the question by saying that 
 he was the traitor, — but the man of power who having the 
 legions of the Eepublic in his hands, used them against the 
 Republic. I can well understand that he should have joined 
 such a conspiracy as this first of Catiline, and then have 
 backed out of it when he found he could not trust those 
 who were joined with him. 
 
 This conspiracy failed. One man omitted to give a signal 
 at one time, and another at another. The Senate was to 
 have been slaughtered, the two Consuls, Cotta and Torquatus 
 murdered, and the two ex-Consuls, Sulla and Autronius, 
 replaced. Though all the details seem to have been known 
 
 ^ Mommson, PJook v. ca. v., says of Coesar and Crassus as to this period, 
 "That tliis notorious action corresponds with striking exactness to the secret 
 action wliicli this report ascribes to them." By which he means to imply 
 that they prolialjly were concerned in tlic plot.
 
 CATILINE. 203 
 
 to the Consuls Catiline was allowed to go free, nor were any 
 steps taken for the punisliment of the conspirators. 
 
 The second conspiracy was attempted in the Consulship of 
 jp gg Cicero, B.C. 63, two years after the first. Catiline 
 aetat 44- j.^^^ struggled for the Consulship and had failed. 
 Again there would be no province, no plunder, no power. 
 This interference, as it must have seemed to him, with his 
 peculiar privileges, had all come from Cicero. Cicero was 
 the busy-body who was attempting to stop the order of 
 things which had, to his thinking, been specially ordained 
 by all the gods for the sustenance of one so well born and 
 at the same time so poor as himself There was a vulgar 
 meddling about it, — all coming from the violent virtue of a 
 Consul whose father had been a nobody at Arpinum, — 
 which was well calculated to drive Catiline into madness. 
 So he went to work and got together in Eome a body of 
 men as discontented and almost as nobly born as himself, 
 and in the country, — north of Eome, — an army of rebels, and 
 began his operations with very little secrecy. In all the 
 story the most remarkable feature is the openness with 
 which many of the details of the conspiracy were carried 
 on. The existence of the rebel army was known; it was 
 known that Catiline was the leader ; the causes of his dis- 
 affection were known ; his comrades in guilt were known. 
 When any special act was intended, such as might be the 
 murder of the Consul or the firing of the city, secret plots 
 were concocted in abundance. But the grand fact of a wide- 
 spread conspiracy could go naked in Eome, and not even a 
 Cicero dare to meddle with it.
 
 264 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 As to this second conspiracy, — tlie conspiracy with which 
 Sallust and Cicero have made us so well acquainted, there is 
 no sufficient ground for asserting that Csesar was concerned 
 in it/ That he was greatly concerned in the treatment of the 
 conspirators there is no doubt. He had probably learned to 
 appreciate the rage, the madness, the impotence of Catiline 
 at their proper worth. He too, I think, must have looked 
 upon Cicero as a meddling, over- virtuous, busy-body ; — as 
 did even Pompey when he returned from the East. What 
 practical use could there be in such a man at such a time, — 
 in one who really believed in honesty, who thought of liberty 
 and the Eepublic, and imagined that he could set the world 
 riglit by talking ? Such must have been the feeling of 
 Ctesar, who had both experience and foresight to tell him 
 that Rome wanted and must have a master. He probably 
 liad patriotism enough to feel that he, if he could acquire the 
 mastership, would do something beyond robbery, — would not 
 satisfy himself with cutting the throats of all his enemies, 
 and feeding his supporters with the property of his opponents. 
 But Cicero was impracticable ; — unless indeed he could be 
 so liattered as to be made useful. It was thus, I think, that 
 (Ja3sar regarded Cicero, and thus that he induced Pompey 
 to regard him. But now, in the year of his Consulship, 
 Cicero had really talked himself into power, and for this year 
 his virtue must be allowed to have its full way. 
 
 ^ Sallust tells us, Catilinaria xlix., that Cicero was instigated bj' special 
 (■iieini(!H of ( 'lusar to ijiclude Caesar in the accusation, but refused to iriix liimsolf 
 up in so great a crime. Crassus also Wiis accused, — but probably wrongfully. 
 Sallust declares that :iii nllcinjit was iiiaiir to murder C'a'sar as lie left the 
 .Senate. There was probaiily simu' cpianel aud hustling; — but no more.
 
 CATILINE. 265 
 
 ■ He did so iiiucli in this year, was so really efficacious in 
 restraining for a time tlie greed and violence of the aristo- 
 cracy, that it is not surprising that he was taught to believe 
 in himself. There were, too, enough of others anxious for the 
 Eepublic, to bolster him up in his own belief. There was that 
 Cornelius in whose defence Cicero made the two great speeches 
 which have been unfortunately lost. And there was Cato, — 
 and up to this time there was Pompey, as Cicero thought- 
 Cicero, till he found himself candidate for the Consulship, 
 had contented himself with undertaking separate cases in 
 which, no doubt, politics were concerned, but which were 
 not exclusively political. He had advocated the employment 
 of Pompey in the East; and had defended Cornelius. He 
 was well acquainted with the history of the Eepublic. But 
 he had probably never asked himself the question whether 
 it was in mortal peril, and if so, whether it might possibly 
 be saved. In his Consulship he did do so, — and seeing less 
 of the Eepublic than we can see now, told himself that it 
 was possible. 
 
 The stories told to us of Catiline's conspiracy by Sallust 
 and by Cicero are so little conflicting that we can trust them 
 both. Trusting them both we are justified in believing that 
 we know the truth. We are here concerned only with the 
 part which Cicero took. Nothing, I think, which Cicero says 
 is contradicted by Sallust, though of much that Cicero cer- 
 tainly did Sallust is silent. Sallust damns him, — but only 
 by faint praise. "VVe may therefore take the account of the 
 plot as given by Cicero himself as verified. Indeed I am 
 not aware that any of Cicero's facts have been questioned.
 
 266 LIFE OF CICERO: 
 
 Sallust declares that Catiline's attempt was popular in 
 Eome generally.^ This, I think, must be taken as showing 
 simply that revolution and conspiracy were in themselves 
 popular. That, as a condition of things around him such as 
 existed in Eome, a plotter of state plots should be able to 
 collect a body of followers, was a thing of course. That there 
 were many citizens wdio would not work and who expected 
 to live in luxury on public or private plunder is certain. 
 When the conspiracy was first announced in the Senate 
 Catiline had an army collected. But we have no proof that 
 the hearts of the inhabitants of Eome generally were with 
 the conspirators. On the other hand we have proof, in the 
 unparalleled devotion shown by the citizens to Cicero after 
 the conspiracy was quelled, tliat their hearts were with 
 him. The populace, fond of change, liked a disturbance; 
 but there is nothing to show that Catiline was ever beloved 
 as had been the Gracchi and other tribunes of the people 
 who came after them. 
 
 Catiline, in the autumn of the year, B.C. 63, had arranged 
 the outside circumstances of his conspiracy, knowing that 
 he would, for the third time, be unsuccessful in his canvas 
 for the consulship. That Cicero with other senators should 
 be murdered seems to have been their first object, — and that 
 tlien the Consulship should be seized by force. On the 21st 
 October Cicero made his first report to the Senate as to the 
 
 ^ Sallust. Catilinaria, xxxvii. "Omnino cuncta plubes, iiovarum rerum 
 Htudio, r'atilin.T? iiiccpta pioluiljat." By the words " novariim rerum studio," — 
 ]>y a love of revolution, — wo can und'.nstaiid the kind of popularity w'liich 
 Salluat intended to express.
 
 CATILINE. 267 
 
 conspiracy, and called upon Catiline for his answer. It 
 was then that Catiline made his famous reply ; — " That the 
 Republic had two bodies, of which one was weak and had 
 a bad head," — meaning the aristocracy, with Cicero as its 
 chief, — " and the other strong, but without any head ; " mean- 
 ing the people ; — " but that as for himself, so well had the 
 people deserved of him tliat as long as he lived a head should 
 be forthcoming." ^ Then, at that sitting, the Senate decreed, 
 in the usual formula, " That the Consuls were to take care 
 that the Eepublic did not suffer.^ On the 22nd October 
 the new consuls Silauus and Murena were elected. On the 
 23rd Catiline was regularly accused of conspiracy by Paulus 
 Lepidus, a young nobleman, in conformity with a law which 
 had been enacted fifty-five years earlier, " de vi publica," 
 as to violence applied to the State. Two days afterwards it 
 was officially reported that Manlius, — or Mallius, as he seems 
 to have been generally called, — Catiline's lieutenant, had 
 openly taken up arms in Etruria. The 27th had been fixed 
 by the conspirators for the murder of Cicero and the other 
 senators. That all this was to be and was so arranged by 
 Catiline, had been declared in the Senate by Cicero himself, 
 on that day when Catiline told them of the two bodies and 
 the two heads. Cicero, with his intelligence, ingenuity, and 
 industry had learned every detail. There was one Curius 
 among the conspirators, — a fair specimen of the young 
 Roman nobleman of the day, — Avho told it all to his mistress 
 Fulvia, and she carried the information to the Consul. It 
 
 ^ Pro Murena, xxv. 
 Darent operani consules ne quid detrimenti respublica capiat."
 
 268 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 is . all narrated with fair dramatic accuracy in Ben Jonson's 
 dull jDlay ; — though he has attributed to Ceesar a share in 
 the plot for doing which he had no authority. Cicero, on 
 that sitting in the Senate, had been specially anxious to 
 make Catihne understand that he knew privately every 
 circumstance of the plot. Throughout the whole conspiracy 
 his object was, not to take Catiline, but to drive him out 
 of Rome. If the people could be stirred up to kill him 
 in their wrath, that might be well. In that way there might 
 be an end of all the trouble. But if that did not come to 
 pass, theu it would be best to make the city unbearable to 
 the conspirators. If they could be driven out they must 
 either take themselves to foreign parts and be dispersed, — 
 or must else fight and assuredly be conquered. Cicero him- 
 self was never bloodthirsty, but the necessity was strong upon 
 him of ridding the Eepublic from these bloodthirsty men. 
 
 The scheme for destroying Cicero and the senators on the 
 27th October had proved abortive. On the 6th of the next 
 month a meeting was held in the house of one Marcus 
 l^orcius Lseca, at which a plot was arranged for the killing 
 of Cicero the next day, — for the killing of Cicero alone, he 
 having been by this time found to be the one great obstacle 
 in their path. Two knights were told off for the service, 
 named Vargunteius and Cornelius. These, after the Eoman 
 fashion, were to make their way early on the following 
 morning into tlie Consul's bedroom for the ostensible purpose 
 of paying him their morning compliments, — but, when there, 
 they were to slay him. All tliis however was told to Cigero, 
 and the two kniglits, when they came, were refused
 
 CATILINE. 269 
 
 admittance. If Cicero had been a man given to fear, — as has 
 been said of him, — he must have passed a wretched life at 
 this period. As far as I can judge of his words and doings 
 throughout his life he was not harassed by constitutional 
 timidity. He feared to disgrace his name, to lower his 
 authority, to become small in the eyes of men, to make poli- 
 tical mistakes, to do that which might turn against him. In 
 much of this there was a falling off from that dignity, which, 
 if we do not often find it in a man, we can all of us imagine. 
 But of personal dread as to his own skin, as to his own life, 
 there was very little. At this time, when, as he knew well, 
 many men with many weapons in their hands, — men who 
 were altogether unscrupulous, — were in search for his blood, 
 he never seems to have trembled. 
 
 But all Eome trembled, — -even according to Sallust. I 
 have already shown how he declares in one part of his 
 narrative that the common people as a body were with 
 Catiline, and have attempted to explain what was meant 
 by that expression. In another — in an earlier chapter — 
 he says, " that the State," meaning the city, " was dis- 
 turbed by all this and its appearance changed.^ Instead 
 of the joy and ease which had lately prevailed, the effect 
 of the long peace, a sudden sadness fell upon every one." 
 I quote the passage because that other passage has been 
 taken as proving the popularity of Catiline. There can, I 
 think, be no doubt that the population of Piome was as a 
 body afraid of Catiline. The city was to be burned down, 
 
 ^ Catilinaria, xxxi.
 
 270 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the Consuls and the Senate were to be murdered, debts were 
 to be wiped out, slaves were probably to be encouraged 
 against their masters. The " permota civitas " ^ and 'the 
 " cuncta plebes " of which Sallust speaks mean that all the 
 " householders " were disturbed, and that all the " roughs " 
 WTre eager with revolutionary hopes. 
 
 On the 8th of November, the day after that on which the 
 Consul was to have been murdered in his own house, he 
 called a special meeting of the Senate in the teraple of 
 Jupiter Stator. The Senate in Cicero's time was convened 
 according to expedience, or perhaps as to the dignity of the 
 occasion, in various temples. Of these none had a higher 
 reputation than that of the special Jupiter who is held 
 to have befriended Eomulus in his fight with the Sabines. 
 Here was launched that thunderbolt of eloquence which all 
 English schoolboys have known for its " Quousque tandem 
 abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra." Whether it be from the 
 awe which has come down to me from my earliest years, mixed 
 perhaps with something of dread for the great pedagogue who 
 iirst made tlie words to sound grandly in my ears, or 
 whether true critical judgment has since approved to me 
 llie real weight of the words, they certainly do contain 
 I'ur my intelligence an expression of almost divine indig- 
 nation. Then there follows a string of (|uestions, which to 
 translate would be vain, whicli to quote, for those who read 
 tli(; language, is surely unnecessary. It is said to have been 
 a fault with (/icero that in his speeches he runs too mucli 
 into that vein of wrathful interrogation which undoubtedly 
 ])alls upon us in English orat-jry when frcqnent resort is
 
 CATILINE. 271 
 
 made to it. It seems to be too easy and to contain too little 
 of argument. It was this, probably, of which his contempo- 
 raries complained when they declared him to be florid, 
 redundant and Asiatic in his style.^ This questioning runs 
 through nearly the whole speech, but the reader cannot fail 
 to acknowledge its efficacy in reference to the matter in 
 hand. Catiline was sitting there himself in the Senate, and 
 the questions were for the most j^art addressed to him. We 
 can see him now, a man of laro;e frame, with bold frlarino; 
 eyes, looking in his wrath as though he were hardly able 
 to keep his hands from the Consul's throat, even there in the 
 Senate. Though he knew that this attack was to be made 
 on him he had stalked into the temple and seated himself 
 in a place of honour, among the benches intended for those 
 who had been Consuls. When there no one spoke to him, no 
 one saluted him. The consular senators shrank away, 
 leaving their places of privilege. Even his brother con- 
 spirators, of whom many were present, did not dare to 
 recognise him. Lentulus M^as no doubt there, and Cethegus, 
 and two of the Sullan family, and Cassius Longinus, and 
 Autronius, and Lseca, and Curius. All of them were or 
 had been conspirators in the same cause. Csesar was there 
 too and Crassus. A fellow-conspirator with Catiline would 
 probably be a senator. Cicero knew tliem all. We cannot 
 say that in this matter Csesar was guilty, but Cicero, no 
 doubt felt that Caesar's heart was with Catiline. It was his 
 present task so to thunder with his eloquence, that he should 
 
 1 Quintilian, lib. xii. 10, " Quern tamen et suorum homiues tenipoium 
 incessere audebaiit, ut timiidiorcm, et asianum, et redimdanteiii."
 
 272 ' LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 turn these bitter enemies into seeming friends, — to drive 
 Catiline from out of the midst of them, so that it should 
 seem that he had been expelled by those who were in 
 truth his brother conspirators. And this it was that 
 he did. 
 
 He declared the nature of the plot, and boldly said that 
 such being the facts, Catiline deserved death. " If," he says, 
 " I should order you to be taken and killed, believe me, I 
 should be blamed rather for my delay in doing so than for 
 my cruelty." He spoke throughout as though all the power 
 were in his own hands, — either to strike or to forbear. But 
 it was his object to drive him out and not to kill him. " Go," 
 he said. " That camp of yours and Mallius, your lieutenant, 
 are too long without you. Take your friends with you. 
 Take them all. Cleanse the city of your presence. When 
 its walls are between you and me then I shall feel myself 
 secure. Among us here you may no longer stir yourself. I 
 will not have it. I will not endure it. If I were to suffer 
 you to be killed, your followers in the conspiracy would 
 remain here ; but if you go out, as I desire you, this cesspool 
 of filth will drain itself off from out the city. Do you 
 hesitate to do at my command that which you would fain 
 do yourself? The Consul re(|uires an enemy to depart from 
 the city. Do you ask me whetlier you arc to go into exile ? 
 I do not order it; but if you ask my counsel, I advise it." 
 Exile was the severest punishment known by the IJoman 
 law, as applicable to a citizen, and such a punishment it was 
 in tlio pf)Wf'r of no Consul or other officer of state to inflict. 
 Tliougli liu had taken upon himself the duty of protecting
 
 CATILINE. 273 
 
 the Eepublic, still lie could not condemn a citizen. It was 
 to the moral effect of his words that he must trust ; " Non 
 jubeo, sed si me consulis, suadeo." Catiline heard him to 
 the end, and then muttering a curse, left the Senate, and 
 went out of the city. Sallust tells us that he threatened 
 to extinguish, in the midst of the general ruin he would 
 create, the flames prepared for liis own destruction. Sallust 
 however was not present on the occasion, and the threat 
 probably had been uttered at an earlier period of Catiline's 
 career. Cicero tells us expressly in one of his subsequent 
 works that Catiline was struck dumb.^ 
 
 Of this first Catiline oration Sallust says, that " Marcus 
 Tullius the Consul, either fearing the presence of the man, 
 or stirred to anger, made a brilliant speech, very useful to 
 the Republic.^ " This coming from an enemy is stronger 
 testimony to the truth of the story told by Cicero, than would 
 have been any vehement praise from the pen of a friend. 
 
 Catiline met some of his colleagues the same night. They 
 were the very men who as senators had been present at his 
 confusion, — and to them he declared his purj^ose of going. 
 There was nothing to be done in the city by him. Tiie 
 Consul was not to be reached. Catiline himself was too 
 closely watched for personal action. He would join the 
 army at Fsesulse and then return and burn the city. His 
 friends, Lentulus, Cethegus, and the others, were to remain 
 and be ready for fire and slaughter as soon as Catiline with 
 
 ^ Orator, xxxvii. "A nobis homo audacissimus Catilina in senatu accusatus 
 obmutuit." 
 
 ^ Catiliuaiia xxxi. 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 liis army sliould appear before the walls. He went, and 
 Cicero had been so far successful. 
 
 But these men, Lentulus, Cethegus, and the other senators, 
 though they had not dared to sit near Catiline in the Senate 
 or to speak a word to him, went about their work zealously 
 when evening had come. A report was spread among the 
 people that the Consul had taken upon himself to drive a 
 citizen into exile. Catiline, tlie ill-used Catiline, Catiline the 
 friend of the people, had, they said, gone to Marseilles in 
 order that he might escape the fury of the tyrant Consul. 
 In this we see the jealousy of Eomans as to the infliction of 
 any punishment by an individual officer on a citizen. It was 
 with a full knowledge of what was likely to come that Cicero 
 had ironically declared that he only advised the conspirator 
 to go. The feeling was so strong that on the next morning 
 he found himself compelled to address the people on the 
 subject. Then was uttered the second Catiline oration, 
 which was spoken in the oi)en air to the citizens at large. 
 Here too there are words, anioncj those with which he began 
 his speech, almost as familiar to us as the " Quousque 
 tandem," " Al)iit ; excessit ; evasit ; erupit ! " This Catiline, 
 says Cicero, this pest of his country, raging in his madness, 
 I have turned out of tlie city. If you like it better I have 
 expelled him by my very words. " He has departed. He 
 has lied. He has gone out from among us. He has broken 
 away ! " "1 have made this conspiracy plain to you all, as I 
 said I would, — unless indeed there may be some one here 
 who does not believe that the friends of Catiline will do the 
 same as Catiline would have done. But there is no time
 
 CATILINE. 275 
 
 now for soft measures. We hiive to be strong-lianded. 
 There is one thing I will do for these men. Let tliem too 
 go out ; — so that Catiline shall not pine for them. I will 
 show them the road. He has gone by the Via Aurelia. If 
 they will hurry they may catch him before night." He 
 implies by tliis that the story about Marseilles was false. 
 Then he speaks with irony of himself as that violent Consul 
 who could drive citizens into exile by the very breath of his 
 mouth. "Ego vehemens ille consul qui verbo cives in 
 exsilium ejicio." So he goes on, in truth, defending himself, 
 but leading them with him to take part in the accusation 
 which he intends to bring against the chief conspirators 
 who remain in tlie city. If they too will go, they may 
 go, unscathed. If they choose to remain let them look to 
 themselves. 
 
 Through it all we can see there is but one thing that he 
 fears ; — that he shall be driven by the exigencies of the 
 occasion to take some steps which shall afterwards be judged 
 not to have been strictly legal, and which shall put him into 
 the power of his enemies when the day of his ascendency 
 shall have passed away. It crops out repeatedly in these 
 speeches.^ He seems to be aware that some over-strong 
 measure will be forced upon him for which he alone will be 
 
 1 In the first of them, to the Senate, chap, ix., he declares this to Catiline 
 hiiuself, " si mea voce perterritus ire in exsilium animum induxeris, quanta 
 tempestas invidijE nobis, si minus in prjesens tempns, recenti memoria 
 scelerum tuorum, at in posteritatem impendeat." He goes on to declare that he 
 will endure all that, if by so doing he can save the Republic. "Sed est 
 mihi tanti ; \lummodo ista privala sit calamitas, et a reipublic;c periculis 
 scjungatur." 
 
 T 2
 
 276 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 held responsible. If he can only avoid that, he will fear 
 nothing else. If he cannot avoid it, he will encounter even 
 that danger. His foresight was wonderfully accurate. The 
 strong hand was used, and the punishment came upon him, 
 not from his enemies but from his friends, almost to the 
 bursting of his heart. 
 
 Though the Senate had decreed that the Consuls were to 
 see that the Eepublic should take no harm, and though it was 
 presumed that extraordinary power was thereby conferred, it 
 is evident that no power was conferred of inflicting punish- 
 ment. Antony, as Cicero's colleague, was nothing. The 
 authority, tlie responsibility, tlie action were, and were in- 
 tended to remain with Cicero. He could not legally banish 
 any one. It was only too evident that there must be much 
 slaughter. There was the army of rebels with which it would 
 be necessary to fight. Let them go, these rebels within the 
 city and either join the army and get themselves killed, or 
 else disappear, whither they would, among the provinces. 
 The object of this second Catiline oration, spoken to the 
 people, was to convince the remaining conspirators that they 
 had better go, and to teach the citizens generally that in 
 giving such counsel he was " banishing " no one. As far as 
 the citizens were concerned he was successful. But he did 
 not induce the friends of Catiline to follow their chief. This 
 took place on the 0th of November. After the oration the 
 Senate met again, and declared Catiline and INIallius to be 
 public enemies. 
 
 Twenty-four days elapsed before the third speech was 
 spoken, — twenty-four days during which Kome must have
 
 CATILINE. 277 
 
 been in. a state of very great fever. Cicero was actively 
 engaged in unravelling the plots the details of which were 
 still being carried on within the city ; but nevertheless he 
 made that speech for Murena before the judicial bench of 
 which I gave an account in the last chapter, and also pro- 
 bably another for Piso of which we have nothing left. We 
 cannot but marvel that he should have been able at such a 
 time to devote his mind to such subjects and carefully to 
 study all the details of legal cases. It was only on October 
 21st that Murena had been elected Consul ; and yet on the 
 20th November, Cicero defended him with great skill on a 
 charge of bribery. There is an ease, a playfulness, a softness, 
 a drollery about this speech which appears to be almost 
 incompatible with the stern absorbing realities and great 
 personal dangers in the midst of which he was placed. But 
 the agility of his mind was such that there appears to have 
 been no difficulty to him in these rapid changes. 
 
 On the same day, the 20th November, when Cicero was 
 defending Murena, the plot was being carried on at the house 
 of a certain Roman lady named Sempronia. It was she of 
 whom Sallust said, that she danced better than became an 
 honest woman. If we can believe Sallust she was steeped in 
 luxury and vice. At her house a most vile project was 
 hatched for introducing into Eome Home's bitterest foreign 
 foes. There were in the city at this time certain delegates 
 from a people called the AUobroges who inhabited the lower 
 part of Savoy. The AUobroges were of Gaulish race. They 
 were warlike, angry, and at the present mument peculiarly 
 discontented with Eome. There had been certain injuries
 
 278 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 either real or presumed, respecting which these delegates 
 had been sent to the city. There they had been delayed, and 
 fobbed off with official replies which gave no satisfaction, and 
 were supposed to be ready to do any evil possible to the 
 Eepublic. What if they could be got to go back suddenly to 
 their homes, and bring a legion of red-haired Gauls to assist 
 the conspirators in burning down Rome ? A deputation from 
 the delegates came to Sempronia's house and there met the 
 conspirators, — Lentulus and others. They entered freely into 
 the project ; — but, having, as was usual with foreign embassies 
 at Rome, a patron, or peculiar friend of their own among the 
 aristocracy, one Fabius Sanga by name, they thought it well 
 to consult him.i Sanga as a matter of course told everything 
 to our astute Consul. 
 
 Then the matter was arranged with more than all the craft 
 of a modern Inspector of Police. The Allobroges were in- 
 structed to lend themselves to the device, — stipulating 
 however that they should have a written signed authority 
 which they could show to their rulers at home. The written 
 signed documents were given to them. With certain con- 
 sjjirators to help them out of the city they were sent upon 
 their way. At a bridge over the Tiber they were stopped by 
 Cicero's emissaries. There was a feigned fight, but no blood 
 was shed ; and the ambassadors with their letters were 
 brought home to the Consul. 
 
 We arc astonislied at tlie marvellous folly of these 
 
 ^ Sallust, ('.■iti!iii:iri:i, x!i. " l(a<ni(' (.^. Faliio Siuij^'ii' ciijiis patmciiiio 
 civitai iiluriiiiuiii iitrhatnr ixmh onnii'iii uti (,'<i;,ni<ivrraiil ai"'tiuiit."
 
 CATILINE. 279 
 
 conspirators, — so that we could hardly have believed the story 
 had it not been told alike by Cicero and by Sallust, and 
 had not allusion to the details been common among later 
 writers.^ The ambassadors were taken at the Milvian bridge 
 early on the morning of the 3rd December, and in the course of 
 that day Cicero sent for the leaders of the conspiracy to come 
 to him. Lentulus, who was then Praetor, Cethegus, Gabinius, 
 and Statilius, all obeyed the summons. They did not know 
 what had occurred and probably thought that their best hope 
 of safety lay in compliance. Ceeparius was also sent for ; but 
 he for the moment escaped ; in vain ; — for before two days 
 were over he had been taken and put to death with the others. 
 Cicero again called the Senate together, and entered the 
 meeting leading the guilty Praetor by the hand. Here the 
 offenders were examined and practically acknowledged their 
 guilt. The proofs against them were so convincing that they 
 could not deny it. There were the signatures of some. Arms 
 were found hidden in the house of another. The Senate 
 decreed that the men should be kept in durance till some 
 decision as to their fate should have been pronounced. Each 
 of them was then given in custody to some noble Eoman of 
 the day. Lentulus the Prtetor was confided to the keeping 
 of a censor, Cethegus to Cornificius, Statilius to Caesar, 
 
 ' Horace, Epo. xvi. C. " Novisque rebus infidelis AlloLrox." The un- 
 happy Savoyard has from this line been known through ages as a conspi- 
 rator, false even to his fellow conspirators. 
 
 Juvenal, vii. 214. " Rufum qui toties Cioeronem AUobroga dixit." Some 
 Eufus acting as advocate had thought to put down Cicero by calling him 
 an Allobrogian.
 
 280 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Gabinius to Crassus, — and Cteparius, who had not lied very 
 far before he was taken, to one Terentius. "VVe can imagine 
 how willingly would Crassus and Csesar have let their men 
 go, had they dared. But Cicero was in the ascendent. Caesar, 
 whom we can imagine to have understood that the hour had 
 not yet come for putting an end to the effete Eepublic, and 
 to have perceived also that Catiline was no fit help-mate 
 for him in such a work, must bide his time and for tlie 
 moment obey. That he was inclined to favour the con- 
 spirators there is no doubt ; but at present he could befriend 
 them, only in accordance with the law. The Allobroges were 
 rewarded. The Prsetors in the city who had assisted Cicero 
 were thanked. To Cicero himself a supplication was decreed. 
 A supplication was, in its origin, a thanksgiving to the gods 
 on account of a victory, but had come to be an honour shown 
 to the General who had gained the victory. In this case it 
 was simply a means of adding glory to Cicero, and was 
 peculiar, as hitherto the reward had only been conferred for 
 military service.^ Eemembering that, we can understand 
 vt'hat at the time must have been the feeling in Rome as to 
 the benefits conferred by the activity and patriotism of the 
 Consul. 
 
 On the evening of the same day, the .'jrd of December, 
 Cicero again addressed the people explaining to them what 
 lie had done and wliat he had before explained in the Senate. 
 
 ^ The words in Avliioh this honour was conferred he himself repeats. 
 " Qiioi] nrhcm inccndiis, oifdo civcs, Italiam bello liljcrassem." "Because 
 I liad rescued the city from fnc, the citizens from slaughter, and Italy 
 i\ii\n war."
 
 CATILINE. 281 
 
 This was the third Catiline speech, and for rapid narrative 
 is perhaps surpassed by nothing that lie ever spoke. He 
 explains again the motives by which he had been actuated ; 
 and in doing so extols the courage, the sagacity, the activity 
 of Catiline, while he ridicules the folly and the fury of the 
 others.^ Had Catiline remained, he says, we should have 
 been forced to fight with him here in the city ; but with 
 Lentulus the sleepy, and Cassius the fat, and Cethegus the 
 mad, it has been comparatively easy to deal. It was on this 
 account that he had got rid of him, knowing that their 
 presence would do no harm. Then he reminds the people 
 of all that the gods have done for them, and addresses them 
 in language which makes one feel that they did believe in 
 their gods. It is one instance, one out of many which 
 history and experience afford us, in which an honest and a 
 good man has endeavoured to use for salutary purposes a 
 faith in which he has not himself participated. Does the 
 bishop of to-day when he calls upon his clergy to pray for 
 fine weather believe that the Almighty will change the 
 ordained seasons, and cause his causes to be inoperative 
 because farmers are anxiou.s for their hay or for their wheat ? 
 But he feels that when men are in trouble it is well that 
 they should hold communion with the powers of Heaven. 
 So much also Cicero believed, and therefore spoke as he did 
 
 ^ It is necessary in all oratory to read something between the lines. It 
 is allowed to the speaker to produce effect by diminishing and exaggerating. 
 I think we should detract something from the praises bestowed on Cati- 
 line's military virtues. The bigger Catiline could be made to appear, the 
 greater would be the honour of having driven him out of the city.
 
 282 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 on this occasion. As to his own religions views I shall say 
 something in a futnre chapter. 
 
 Then in a passage, most beautiful for its language though 
 it is hardly in accordance with our idea of the manner in 
 which a man should speak of himself, he explains his own 
 ambition. "For all which my fellow-countrymen, I ask for 
 no other recompense, no ornament of honour, no monument 
 but that this day may live in your memories. It is within 
 your breasts that I would garner and keep fresh my triumph, 
 my glory, the trophies of my exploits. No silent voiceless 
 statue, nothing which can be bestowed upon the worthless can 
 give me delight. Only by your remembrance can my for- 
 tunes be nurtured, by your good words, by the records which 
 you shall cause to be written, can they be strengthened and 
 perpetuated. I do think that this day, the memory of which,. 
 I trust, may be eternal, will be famous in history because 
 the city has been preserved and because my Consulship has 
 been glorious." ^ He ends the paragraph by an allusion to 
 Pompey, admitting Pompey to a brotherhood of patriotism 
 and praise. We shall see how Pompey repaid him. 
 
 How many things must have been astir in his mind when 
 he spoke those words of Pompey ! In the next sentence he 
 tells the people of his own danger. He has taken care of 
 their safety. It is for them to take care of his.^ But they, 
 these Quirites, these Koman citizens, these masters of the 
 worlil by whom everything was supposed to be governed, 
 could take cure of no one ; certainly not of themselves ; as 
 
 ' In Catilinain, iii. xi. 
 
 ^ in Catilinani, ibid. xii. " Nc mihi iiorcant vcslrum est [irovidcro."
 
 CATILINE. 283 
 
 certainly not of another. They could only vote, now this 
 way and now that, as somebody might tell them, or more 
 probably, as somebody might pay them. Pompey was 
 coming home and would soon be the favourite. Cicero must 
 have felt that he had deserved much of Pompey ; — but was 
 by no means sure that the debt of gratitude would be paid. 
 
 Now we come to the fourth or last Catiline oration, which 
 was made to the Senate, convened on the 5th December with 
 the purpose of deciding the fate of the leading conspirators 
 who were held in custody. We learn to what purport were 
 three of the speeches made during this debate; — those of 
 Caesar and of Cato and of Cicero. The two first are given 
 to us by Sallust, but we can hardly think that we have the 
 exact words. The Csesarean spirit which induced Sallust to 
 ignore altogether the words of Cicero would have induced 
 him to give his own representation of the other two, — even 
 though we were to suppose that he had been able to have 
 them taken down by shorthand writers. Cicero's words we 
 have no doubt, with such polishing as may have been 
 added to the shorthand writers' notes by Tiro his slave 
 and secretary. The three are compatible each with the 
 other, and we are entitled to believe that we know the 
 line of argument used by the three orators. 
 
 Silanus one of the Consuls elect began the debate by 
 counselling death. We may take it for granted that he had 
 been persuaded by Cicero to make this proposition. During 
 the discussion he trembled at the consequences and declared 
 himself for an adjournment of their decision till they 
 should have dealt with Catiline. Murena, the other Consul
 
 284 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 elect, and Catulus, tlie Prince of the Senate,' spoke for death. 
 Tiberius ISTero, grandfather of Tiberius the Emperor, made 
 that proposition for adjournment to which Silanus gave way. 
 Then, or I should rather say in the course of the debate, for 
 we do not know who else may have spoken, — Caesar got up, 
 and made his proposition. ' His purpose was to save the 
 victims, but he knew well that with such a spirit abroad as 
 that existing in the Senate and the city he could only do so 
 not by absolving but by condemning. Wicked as these men 
 might be, abominably wicked, it was, he said, for the Senate 
 to think of their own dignity rather than of the enormity 
 of the crime. As they could not, he suggested, invent any 
 new punishment adequate to so abominable a crime, it would 
 be better that they should leave the conspirators to be dealt 
 with by the ordinary laws. It was thus that cunningly he 
 threw out the idea that as Senators they had no power of 
 death. He did not dare to tell them directly that any 
 danger would menace them, but he exposed the danger 
 skilfully, before their eyes. " Their crimes," he says again, 
 "deserve worse than any torture you can inflict. But men 
 generally recollect what comes last. When the punishment 
 is severe, men will remember the severity rather than the 
 crime." He argues all this extremely well. The speech is 
 one of great ingenuity whether the words be the words 
 of Sallust or of Caesar. \V'e may doubt indeed whether the 
 
 ' " Prince of tlio Senate " was an lionorary title conferred on some man 
 of mark as a dif^nity ; — at this period on some ex-(Jon.sul. It conferred no 
 power. Cicero, the Consul who had convcmd the Senate, called ou the 
 tipcakers as he thought fit.
 
 CATILINE. 285 
 
 general assertion he made as to death had much weight M'ith 
 the Senators, when he told them that death to the wicked 
 was a relief, whereas life was a lasting punishment; but 
 when he went on to remind them of the " Lex Porcia," by 
 which the power of punishing a Eoman citizen, even under 
 the laws, was limited to banishment, unless by a plebiscite 
 of the people generally ordering deatli, then he was effica- 
 cious. He ended by proposing that the goods of the 
 conspirators should be sold and that the men should be 
 condemned to imprisonment for life, each in some separate 
 town. This would, I believe, have been quite as illegal as 
 the death-sentence, — but it would not have been irrevocable. 
 The Senate, or the people, in the next year could have 
 restored to the men their liberty and compensated them for 
 their property, Cicero was determined that the men should 
 die. They had not obeyed him by leaving the city, and he 
 was convinced that while they lived the conspiracy would 
 live also. He fully understood the danger and resolved to 
 meet it. He replied to Caesar and with infinite sldll re- 
 frained from the expression of any strong opinion, while he 
 led his hearers to the conviction that death was necessary. 
 For himself he had been told of his danger ; " but if a man 
 be brave in his duty death cannot be disgraceful to him ; to 
 one who had reached the honours of the Consulship it could 
 not be premature ; to no wise man could it be a misery." 
 Though his brother, though his wife, though his little boy 
 and his daughter just married were warning him of his 
 peril, not by all that would he be influenced. " Do you," he 
 says, " Conscript Fathers, look to the safety of the Eepublic.
 
 286 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 These are not the Gracclii, nor Suturninus, who are brouglit 
 to you for judgment ; men who broke the laws indeed, and 
 therefore suffered death, but who still were not unpatriotic. 
 These men had sworn to burn the city, to slay the Senate, 
 to force Catiline upon you as a ruler. The proofs of this are 
 in your own hands. It was for me, as your Consul, to bring 
 the facts before you. jSTow it is for you, at once, before 
 night, to decide what shall be done. The conspirators are 
 very many. It is not only with these few that you are 
 dealing. On whatever you decide, decide quickly. Cassar 
 tells you of the Sempronian law/ — the law namely forbidding 
 the death of a Roman citizen, — but can he be recrarded as 
 a citizen who has been found in arms against the city ? " 
 Then there is a Hing at Cccsar's assumed clemency, showing 
 us that CcBsar had already endeavoured to make capital 
 out of that virtue which he displayed afterwards so signally 
 at Alesia and Uxellodunum. Then again he speaks of 
 himself in words so grand that it is impossible but to 
 sympathise with him. " Let Scipio's name be glorious, — 
 he by wliose wisdom and valour Hannibal was forced out of 
 Italy. Let Africanus be praised loudly, who destroyed 
 Carthage and Numantia, the two cities which were most 
 hostile to Eome. Let I'aullus be regarded as great, — he. 
 
 ^Cajsar according to Salhist liad refriieil to the "Lex Porcia." Cicero 
 alludes, and makes Cajsar allude, to the " Lex Sempronia." The Porcian law, 
 as we are told by Livy, was passed n.c. 299, and forbade that a Roman should 
 be scourged or put to deatli. Tiie "Lex Sempronia " was introduced by C. 
 Gracchus, and enacted that the life of a citizen slioulJ not be taken without 
 the voice of the citizens.
 
 CATILIXE. 287 
 
 wliose triumph that great King Perses adorned. Let 3ilarius 
 be held in undying honour, who twice saved Italy from 
 foreign yoke. Let Pompey be praised above all, whose noble 
 deeds are as wide as the sun's course. Perhaps among them 
 there may be a spot, too, for me, — unless, indeed, to win pro- 
 vinces to which we may take ourselves in exile is more than 
 to guard that city to which the conquerors of provinces may 
 return in safety." The last words of the orator also are fine. 
 '•' Therefore, Conscript Fathers, decide wisely and without 
 fear. Your own safety, and that of your wives and children, 
 that of your hearths and altars, the temples of your gods, 
 the homes contained in your city, your liberty, the welfare 
 of Italy — and of the whole Republic are at stake. It is 
 for you to decide. In me you have a Consul who will obey 
 your decrees, and will see that they be made to prevail 
 while the breath of life remains to him." Cato then spoke 
 advocating death, and the Senate decreed that the men 
 should die. Cicero himself led Lentulus down to the 
 vaidted prison below, in which executioners were ready for 
 the work, and the other four men were made to follow. A 
 few minutes afterwards, in the gloaming of the evening, 
 when Cicero was being led home by the applauding 
 multitude he was asked after the fate of the conspira- 
 tors. He answered them but by one word. " Vixerunt. " 
 There is said to have been a superstition with the Piomans 
 as to all mention of death. " They have lived their 
 lives." 
 
 As to what was being done outside Eome with the army 
 of conspirators in Etruria, it is not necessary for the
 
 288 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 biograplier of Cicero to say inucli. Catiline fought and 
 died fighting. The conspiracy was then over. On tlie 
 31st December Cicero retired from his ofl&ce, and Catiline 
 fell at the battle of Pistoia on the 5 th January following, 
 B.C. G2. 
 
 A Eoman historian writing in the reign of Tiberius has 
 thought it worth his while to remind us that a great glory was 
 added to Cicero's consular year by the birth of Augustus ; — 
 him, who afterwards became Augustus Csesar.^ Had a 
 Eoman been living now he might be excused for saying that 
 it was an honour to Augustus to have been born in the year 
 of Cicero's Consulship. 
 
 1 Yelleius Paterculus, xxx\'i. " Coiisulatui Cicerouis non mediocre adjecit 
 docus Uiitus eo anuo Divus Autrustus."
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 
 
 The idea that tlie great Consul had done illegally in 
 putting citizens to death was not allowed to lie dormant 
 even for a day. It must be remembered that a decree of 
 the Senate had no power as a law. The laws could be 
 altered, or even a new law made, only by the people. Such 
 was the constitution of the Republic. Further on, when 
 Cicero will appear as, in fact, on trial for the offence so 
 alleged to have been committed, I shall have to discuss the 
 matter; but the point was raised against him, even in the 
 moment of his triumph, as he was leaving the Consulship. 
 The reiteration of his self-praise had created for him many 
 enemies. It had turned friends against him, and had driven 
 men even of his own party to ask themselves whether all 
 this virtue was to be endured. AVhen a man assumes to 
 be more just than his neighbours there will be many ways 
 found of throwing in a shell against him. It was customary 
 for a Consul when he vacated his office to make some 
 valedictory speech. Cicero was probably expected to take 
 full advantage of the opportunity. From other words which 
 have come from him, on other occasions but on the same 
 subject, it would not be difficult to compose such a speech 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 as he might have spoken. But there were those who were 
 already sick of hearing him say that Rome had been saved 
 by his intelligence and courage. We can imagine what 
 Csesar might have said among his friends of the ex- 
 pediency of putting down this self-laudatory Consul. As 
 it was, Metellus Nepos, one of the Tribunes, forbade the 
 retiring officer to do more than take the oath usual on 
 leaving office, — because he had illegally inflicted death upon 
 Roman citizens. Metellus as Tribune had the power of 
 stopping any ofScial proceeding. We hear from Cicero 
 himself that he was quite equal to the occasion. He swore 
 on the spur of the moment a solemn oath, not in accordance 
 with the form common to Consuls on leaving ohice, but to 
 the effect that during his Consulship Rome had been saved 
 by his work alone. ^ We have the story only as it is told by 
 Cicero himself who avers that the people accepted the oath 
 as sworn with exceeding praise.^ That it was so we may I 
 think take as true. There can be no doubt as to Cicero's 
 popularity at this moment, and hardly a doubt also as to the 
 fact that Metellus was acting in agreement with Csesar, and 
 also in accord with the understood feelings of Pompey who 
 was absent with his army in the East. This Tribune had 
 been till lately an officer under Pompey, and went into office 
 together with Ciiesur who in that year became Pra3tor, This 
 probably was the beginning of the party which two years 
 
 ^ In Pisonem iii. " Sine ulla dubitatione juravi rempublicam atque banc 
 urbem inea unius ofjera esse salvam." 
 
 ' Dio Cassius tolls the .s.iinc story, lib. xxxvii. oa. 38., l)ut be adds tbat 
 Cicero was more bated tlian ever because of the oatb he took. " ko.\ '6 ^utV koI 
 in Tovrov iroKv jxaX^ov 4fxi(f!/\0r)."
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS COXSULSHIP. 291 
 
 afterwards formed the first Trunivirate B.C. 60. It was 
 B c 62 certainly now, in the year succeeding the Consulship 
 aetat45. q£ Cicero that Cassar, as Praetor, began his great 
 career. It becomes manifest to us, as we read the history of 
 the time, that the Dictator of the future was gradually en- 
 tertaining the idea that the old forms of the Kepublic were 
 rotten, and that any man who intended to exercise power 
 in Eome or within the Eoman Empire must obtain it and 
 keep it by illegal means. He had probably adhered to 
 Catiline's first conspiracy, but only with such moderate ad- 
 hesion as enabled him to withdraw when he found that his 
 companions were not fit for the work. It is manifest that he 
 sympathised with the later conspiracy though it may be 
 doubted whether he himself had ever been a party to it. 
 When the conspiracy had been crushed by Cicero, he had 
 given his full assent to the crushing of it. "We have seen 
 how loudly he condemned the wickedness of the conspirators 
 in his endeavour to save their lives. But, through it all, 
 there was a well-grounded conviction in his mind that Cicero 
 with all his virtues was not practical. Not that Cicero was 
 to him the same as Cato, who with his Stoic grandiloquence 
 must to his thinking have been altogether useless. Cicero, 
 though too virtuous for supreme rule, too virtuous to seize 
 power and hold it, too virtuous to despise as effete the 
 institutions of the Eepublic, was still a man so gifted, and 
 capable in so many things, as to be very great as an assistant, 
 — if he would only condescend to assist. It is in this light 
 that Csesar seems to have regarded Cicero as time went on, 
 admiring him, liking him, willing to act with him if it 
 
 u 2
 
 292 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 might be possible, but not the less determined to put down all 
 the attempts at patriotic republican virtue in which the orator 
 delighted to indulge. ]Mr. Forsyth expresses an opinion that 
 Ciesar, till he crossed the Eubicon after his ten years fighting 
 in Gaul, had entertained no settled plan of overthrowing the 
 Constitution. Probably not ; — nor even then. It may be 
 doubted whether C«sar ever spoke to himself of overthrow- 
 ing the Constitution. He came gradually to see that power 
 and wealth were to be obtained by violent action and only 
 by violent action. He had before him the examples of 
 Marius and Sulla, both of whom had enjoyed power and 
 had died in their beds. There was the example also of 
 others who walking unwarily in those perilous times had 
 been banished as was Verres, or killed as was Catiline. We 
 can easily understand that he, with his great genius, should 
 have acknowledged the need both of courage and caution. 
 Both were exercised when he consented to be absent from 
 Rome, and almost from Italy, during the ten years of the Gallic 
 wars. But this, I think, is certain that from the time in 
 which his name appears prominent, — from the period namely 
 of the Catiline conspiracy, — he had determined, nut to over- 
 throw the Constitution, but so to carry himself amidst the 
 great affairs of the day as not to be overthrown himself. 
 
 Of what nature was the intercourse between him and 
 Pompey wlien Pompey was still absent in the East we do 
 iKjt know ; but we can hardly doubt thai some understand- 
 ing liad l)cgun to exist. Of tliis Cicero was probable aware. 
 i'oni])cy was tin: jiian whom Ciceio chose to regard as his 
 party h-adei', n(jt having himself been inured to the actual
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 293 
 
 politics of Eome early enougli in life to put himself 
 forward as tlie leader of his party. It had been necessary 
 for him as a " ISTovus Homo " to come forward and work 
 as an advocate and then as an administrative officer of tlie 
 State, before he took up with politics. That this was so 
 I have shown by quoting the opening words of his speech 
 " Pro Lege Manilla." Proud as he was of the doings of his 
 Consulship, he was still too new to his work to think that 
 tlius he could claim to stand first. ISTor did his ambition 
 lead him in that direction. He desired personal praise 
 rather than personal power. When in the last Catiline 
 oration to the people he speaks of the great men of the 
 Eepublic, of the two Scipios, and of Paulus Emilias, and of 
 Marius, he adds the name of Pompey to these names ; or 
 gives, rather, to Pompey greater glory than to any of them. 
 " Anteponatur omnibus Pompeius." This was but a few 
 days before Metellus as Tribune had stopped him in his 
 speech,— at the instigation probably of Ca?sar, and in further- 
 ance of Pompey 's views. Pompey and Caesar could agree 
 at any rate in this, — that tliey did not want such a one as 
 Cicero to interfere with them. 
 
 All of which Cicero himself perceived. The specially 
 rich province of Macedonia, which would have been his had 
 he chosen to take it on quitting the Consulship, he made 
 over to Antony, — no doubt as a bribe, as with us one 
 statesman may resign a special office to another to keep 
 that other from kicking over the traces. Then Gaul became 
 his province — as allotted ; — Cisalpine Gaul, as northern Italy 
 was then called; a province less rich in plunder and pay than
 
 294: LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Macedonia. But Cicero wanted no province and had con- 
 trived that this should "be confided to Metellus Celer the 
 brother of Xepos, who having been Prtetor when he himself 
 was Consul, was entitled to a government. This too was 
 a political bribe. If courtesy to Cfesar, if provinces given 
 up here and there to Antonys and Metelluses, if flattery 
 lavished on Pompey could avail anything, he could not 
 afford to dispense v/ith such aids. It all availed nothing. 
 I'rom this time forward for the twenty years which 
 were to run before his death, his life v,'as one always of 
 trouble and doubt, often of despair, and on many occasions 
 of actual misery. The source of this was that Pompey 
 whom, with divine attributes, he had extolled above all 
 other Eomans. 
 
 The first extant letter written by Cicero after his Consul- 
 ship was addressed to Pompey.^ Pompey was still in the 
 East but liad completed his campaigns against Mithridates 
 successfully. Cicero begins by congratulating him, as though 
 to do so were the purpose of his letter. Then he tells the 
 victorious general that there were some in Eome not so well 
 jileased as lie was at these victories. It is supposed that 
 he alluded here to Ciesar ; but, if so, he probably misunder- 
 stood the alliance which M'as already being formed between 
 Csesar and Pompey. After that comes the real object of the 
 epistle. He liad received letters from Pompey congratulating 
 
 ^ It is tlic only letter ffivon in the collection as having been addressed 
 direct to roiiipcy. In two letters written some years later to Attieus, B.C. 4 J), 
 lib. viii. 11, and lib. viii. 12, he sends copies of a correspondence between 
 Liiiiself and I'oiripey .'iml two of the roiiqieian generals.
 
 CICERO AFTER IIIS CONSULSHIP. 295 
 
 liim in very cold language as to the glories of his Consulship. 
 He had expected much more than that from the friend for 
 whom he had done so much. Still he thanks his friend, 
 explaining that the satisfaction really necessary to him 
 was the feeling that he had behaved well to his friend. If 
 his friend w^ere less friendly to him in return, then would the 
 balance of friendship be on his side. If Pompey were not 
 bound to him, Cicero, by personal gratitude, still would he 
 be bound by necessary co-operation in the service of the 
 Eepublic. But, lest Pompey should misunderstand him, he 
 declares that he had expected warmer language in reference 
 to his Consulship, which he believes to have been withheld 
 by Pompey lest offence should be given to some third 
 person. By this he means Caesar, and those who were now 
 joining themselves to Caesar. Then he goes on to warn 
 him as to the future. " Nevertheless when you return, you 
 will find that my actions have been of such a nature that 
 even though you may loom larger than Scipio, 1 shall be 
 found worthy to be accepted as your Laelius." ^ 
 
 Infinite care had been given to the writing of this letter, 
 and sharp had been the heartburnings which dictated it. 
 It was only by asserting that he, on his own part, was 
 satisfied with his own fidelity as a friend that Cicero could 
 express his dissatisfaction at Pompey's coldness. It was 
 only by continuing to lavish upon Pompey such flattery as 
 
 ^ Lib. V. 7. It is hardly necessary to explain that the younger Scijiio and 
 Loelius were as famous for their friendship as PylaJis and Orestes. The 
 " Virtus Scipiada; et niitis sapieutia Laeli" have been made famous to us all 
 by Horace.
 
 296 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 ■was contained in the reference to Scipio, — in which a touch 
 of subtle irony is mixed with the flattery, — that he couhl 
 explain the nature of the praise which had, he thought, been 
 due to himself. There is something that would have been 
 abject in the nature of these expressions had it not been 
 Eoman in the excess of the adulation. But there is courage 
 in the letter too, when he tells his correspondent what he 
 believes to have been the cause of the coldness of which he 
 complains. " Quod verere ne cujus animum ofTenderes." 
 " Because you fear lest you should give offence to some one." 
 But let me tell you, he goes on to say, that my Consulship 
 has been of such a nature that you, Scipio, as you are, 
 must admit me as your friend. 
 
 In these words we find a key to the whole of Cicero's 
 connection with the man whom he recognises as his political 
 leader. He was always dissatisfied with Pompey, always 
 accusing Pompey in his heart of ingratitude and insincerity, 
 frequently speaking to Atticus with bitter truth of the man's 
 selfishness and incapacity, even of his cruelty and want 
 of patriotism, nicknaming him because of his absurdities, 
 declaring of him that he was minded to be a second Sulla, 
 but still clinging to him as the political friend and leader 
 whom he was bound to follow. In their earlier years, when 
 lie could have known personally but little of Pompey because 
 Ponqify was generally al)sent from Bomo, he had taken it 
 into his head to love tlu; man. IFo had been called "Magnus;" 
 he li:id been made Consul long bcfmc the proper time; he 
 had l)('('n sucrcssfnl on bdialf of llie Republic, and so far 
 patriotic. lie had liitli(;ito adhered to the fame of the
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS GOXSULSIIIP. 297 
 
 Republic. At any rate Cicero had accepted him, and coidd 
 never afterwards bring himself to be disloyal to the leader 
 with whom he had professed to act. But the feeling evinced 
 in this letter was carried on to the end. He had been, 
 he was, he would be true to his political connection with 
 Pompey; but of Pompey's personal character to himself he 
 had nothing but complaints to make. 
 
 We have two other letters written by Cicero in this year, 
 B c 62 ^^^® ^^''^ ^^ which is in answer to one from Metellus 
 setat 45. Qg^gj. ^q ],jj^;,^ q\qq extant. Metellus wrote to com- 
 plain of the ill-treatment which he thought he had received 
 from Cicero in the Senate, and from the Senate generally. 
 Cicero writes back at much greater length to defend himself, 
 and to prove that he had behaved as a most obliging friend 
 to his correspondent though he had received a gross affront 
 from his correspondent's brother Nepos. Nepos had pre- 
 vented him in that matter of the speech. It is hardly 
 necessary to go into the question of this quarrel, except in 
 so far as it may show how the feeling which led to Cicero's 
 exile was growing up among many of the aristocracy in 
 Rome. There was a counterplot going on at the moment, 
 a plot on the behalf of the aristocracy, for bringing back 
 Pompey to Rome not only with glory but with power, 
 probably originating in a feeling that Pompey "would be a 
 more congenial master than Cicero. It was suggested that 
 as Pompey had been found good in all State emergencies, — 
 for putting down the pirates for instance, and for conquer- 
 ing Mithridates, — he would be the man to contend in arms 
 with Catiline. Catiline was killed before the matter could
 
 298 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 be brought to an issue, but still the conspiracy went on, 
 based on the jealousy which was felt in regard to Cicero. 
 This man who had declared so often that he had served 
 his country, and who really had crushed the Catilinarians 
 by his industry and readiness, might after all be coming 
 forward as another Sulla, and looking to make himself 
 master by dint of his virtues and his eloquence. The 
 hopelessness of the condition of the Eepublic may be re- 
 cognised in the increasing conspiracies which were hatched 
 on every side. Metellus Nepos was sent home from Asia 
 in aid of the conspiracy, and got himself made Tribune, 
 and stopped Cicero's speech. In conjunction with Ctesar, 
 who was Praetor, he proposed his new law for the calling 
 of Pompey to their aid. Then there was a fracas between 
 him and Ciesar on the one side and Cato on the other, in 
 which Cato at last was so far victorious that both Ceesar 
 and Metellus were stopped in the performance of their offi- 
 cial duties. Ca3sar soon was reinstated, but Metellus Nepos 
 returned to Pompey in the East and nothing came of the 
 conspiracy. It is only noticed here as evidence of the 
 feeling whicli existed as to Cicero in Rome, and as ex- 
 ])lainii)g the irritation on both sides indicated in the 
 correspondence between Cicero and Metellus Celer, the 
 brotlier of Nepos,^ for whom Cicero had procured the 
 government of Gaul. 
 
 J These two Ijiothers, neither of whom were remarkable for great qxialities, 
 tho\i;,'li they were both to he Consuls, were the last known of the great family 
 of tlie Metelli, a hramli of the "Gens Crecilia." Among them had been, 
 many who had achieved great names for thcnibelvcs in Komau history, on
 
 CICERO AFTER UIS CONSULSHIP. 299 
 
 The third letter from Cicero in this year was to Sextius 
 who was then acting as Qusestor, — or Proqupestor as Cicero 
 calls him, — with Antony as Proconsul in Macedonia. It 
 is specially interesting as telling us that the writer had 
 just completed tixe purchase of a house in Eouie from 
 Crassus for a sum amounting to about £30,000 of our 
 money. There was probably no private mansion in Eome 
 of greater pretension. It had been owned by Livius Drusus 
 the Tribune, — a man of colossal fortune as we are told by 
 Mommsen, — who was murdered at the door of it thirty years 
 before. It afterwards passed into the hands of Crassus the 
 rich, and now became the property of Cicero. We shall hear 
 how it was destroyed during his exile and how fraudulently 
 made over to the gods, — and then how restored to Cicero, 
 and how rebuilt at the public expense. The history of 
 the house has been so well written that we know even 
 the names of Cicero's two successors in it, Censorinus and 
 Statilius.^ 
 
 account of the territories added to tlie springing Komau empire by tlieir 
 victories. There had been a Macedonicus, a Numidicus, a Balearicns, and a 
 Creticus. It is of the first that Velleius Paterculus sings the glory, lib. i. ca. 
 xi., and the elder Pliny repeats the story, His. Nat. vii. 44, — that of his having 
 been carried to the grave by four sons, of whom at the time of his death three 
 had been Consuls, one had been a Preetor, two had enjoyed triumphal honours, 
 and one had been Censor. In looking through the consular list of Cicero's 
 lifetime I find that there were no less than seven taken from the family of 
 the Metelli. These two brothers Metellus Nepos and Celer again became 
 friends to Cicero, Nepos who had stopped his speech and assisted in forcing 
 him into exile, having assisted as Consul in obtaining his recall from exile. 
 It is very difficult to follow the twistings and turnings of Eoman friendships 
 at this period. 
 1 Velleius Paterculus, lib. ii. ca. xiv. Paterculus tells us how when the
 
 300 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 It is interesting to know tlie sort of honse which Cicero 
 felt to be suitable to his circumstances, for by that we may 
 guess what his circumstances Avere. In making this pur- 
 chase he is supposed to have abandoned the family house 
 in which his father had lived, next door to the new mansion, 
 and to have given it up to his brother. Hence we may argue 
 that he had conceived himself to have risen in worldly 
 circumstances. Nevertheless we are informed by himself 
 in this letter to Sextius that he had to borrow money for 
 tlie occasion, — so much so, that, being a man now indebted, 
 he might be supposed to be ripe for any conspiracy. Hence 
 has come to us a story through Aulus Gellins, the compiler 
 of anecdotes, to the effect that Cicero was fain to borrow 
 this money from a client whose cause he undertook in 
 requital for the faA^our so conferred. Aulus Gellius collected 
 liis stories two centuries afterwards for the amusement of his 
 children, and has never been regarded as an authority in 
 matters for which confirmation has been wanting. There is 
 no allusion to such borrowing from a client made by any 
 contemporary. In this letter to Sextius in which he speaks 
 jokingly of his indebtedness, he declares that he has been 
 able to borrow any amount he wanted at six per cent. — twelve 
 being the ordinary rate, — and gives as a reason for this the 
 position wliich he has achieved by his services to the State. 
 Very rnucli has been said of the story as though the pur- 
 chaser of the house liad done something of which he ought 
 
 architect offered to biiilil tlie house so as to hide its interior from the ga.7.e 
 of tlie worM, Driisus dcsirod the man so to construct it that all the world 
 might see wluit he wiis doing.
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 301 
 
 to have been ashamed ; but this seems to liave sprung 
 entirely from tlie idea that a man who, in the midst of such 
 wealth as prevailed at Eome, had practised so widely aud 
 so successfully the invaluable profession of an advocate, must 
 surely have taken money for his services. He himself has 
 asserted that he took none, and all the evidence that we 
 have goes to show that he spoke the truth. Had he taken 
 money even as a loan, we should have heard of it from 
 nearer witnesses than Auhis Gellius, if, as Aulus Gellius 
 tells us, it had become known at the time. But because 
 he tells his friend that he has borrowed money for the 
 purpose, he is supposed to have borrowed it in a disgraceful 
 manner ! It will be found that all the stories most injurious 
 to Cicero's reputation have been produced in the same 
 manner. His own words have been misinterpreted, — either 
 the purport of them if spoken in earnest, oi their bearing if 
 spoken in joke, — and then accusations have been founded 
 on them.^ 
 
 ^ It may be worth while to give a translation of the anecdote as told by 
 Aulus Gellius, and to point out that the author's intention was to show what 
 a clever fellow Cicero was. Cicero did defend P. Sulla this year ; but whence 
 came the story of the money borrowed from Sulla we do not know. "It 
 is a trick of rhetoric craftily to confess charges made, so as not to come 
 within the reach of the law. So that if anything base be alleged which 
 cannot be denied, you may turn it aside with a joke, aud make it a matter 
 of laughter rather than of disgrace ; — as it is written that Cicero did, when 
 with a drolling word he made little of a charge which he could not deny. 
 For when he was anxious to buy a house on the Palatine Hill, and had not the 
 ready money, he quietly borrowed from P. Sulla, who was then about to 
 stand his trial, "sestertium viciens," — twenty million sesterces. When that 
 became known before the purchase was made, and it was objected to him that 
 he had borrowed the money from a client, then Cicero, instigated by the
 
 302 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Another charge of dishonest practice was about this 
 time made against Cicero without a grain of evidence ; 
 though indeed the accusations so made, and insisted upon 
 apparently from a feeling that Cicero cannot surely have 
 been altogether clean when all others were so dirty, are 
 too numerous to receive from each reader's judgment that 
 indignant denial to which each is entitled. The biographer 
 cannot but fear that when so much mud has been thrown 
 some will stick, and therefore almost hesitates to tell of 
 tlie mud believing that no stain of this kind has been in 
 truth deserved. 
 
 It seems that Antony, Cicero's colleague in the Consulship 
 who became Proconsul in Macedonia, had undertaken to pay 
 some money to Cicero. Why the money was to be paid 
 we do not know, but there are allusions in Cicero's letters 
 to Atticus to one Teucris (a Trojan woman) and it seems 
 that Antony w^as designated by the nickname. Teucris is 
 very slow at paying his money, and Cicero is in want of 
 it. But perhaps it will be as well not to push the matter 
 He, Antony, is to be tried for provincial peculation, and 
 Cicero declares that the case is so bad that he cannot de- 
 fend his late colleau'ue. Hence have arisen two different 
 
 unexpected charge, denied the loan and denied also that he was going to buy 
 the house. But when he had bought it and the fib was thrown in his teeth, 
 he laughed heartily and asked whether men had so lost their senses as not to 
 be aware that a ])riident father of a family would deny an intended purchase 
 rather than raise the price of the article agniust himself." — Noctos Attica;, 
 xii. 12. Auliis Gellius, tlioiigli he tells us tliat the story was written does 
 not tell UH wlicro ho read it.
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 303 
 
 suspicions ; — one that Antony had agreed to make over to 
 Cicero a share of the Macedonian plunder in requital of 
 Cicero's courtesy in giving up the province which had 
 been allotted to himself, the second, that Antony was to 
 pay Cicero for defending him. As to the former Cicero 
 himself alludes to such a report as being common in 
 Macedonia and as having been used by Antony himself 
 as an excuse for increased rapine. But this has been 
 felt to be incredible, — and has been allowed to fall to the 
 ground because of the second accusation. But in support 
 of that there is no word of evidence,' whereas the tenor of 
 the story as told by Cicero himself is against it. Is it 
 likely, would it be possible, that Cicero should have begun 
 his letter to Atticus by complaining that he could not get 
 from Antony money wanted for a peculiar purpose, — it 
 was wanted for his new house, — and have gone on in the 
 same letter to say that this might be as well after all, as 
 he did not intend to perform the service for which the 
 money was to be paid ? The reader will remember that 
 the accusation is based solely on Cicero's own statement 
 that Antony was negligent in paying to him money that 
 had been promised. In all these accusations the evidence 
 against Cicero such as it is, is brought exclusively from Cicero's 
 own words. Cicero did afterwards defend this Antony, as 
 
 ^ I must say this, "pace "Mr. Tyrrell, who in his note on the letter to 
 Atticus lib. i. 12, attempts to show that some bargain for such professional 
 fee had been made. Regarding Mr. Tyrrell as a critic always fair and almost 
 always satisfactory, I am sorry to have to dili'er from him ; but it seems to 
 me that he, too, has been carried away by the feeling that in defending 
 a man's character, it is best to give up some point.
 
 304 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 we learn from his speech Pro Domo sua; but his change 
 of purpose in that respect has nothing to do with the 
 argumejit. 
 
 We have two speeches extant made this year, one on 
 ^_ g„ behalf of P. Sulla, nephew to the Dictator; the 
 setat 45. qi^\^q^ {q^ Archias the Greek scholar and poet who 
 had been Cicero's tutor and now claimed to be a citizen of 
 Eome. I have already given an extract from this letter, as 
 showing the charm of words with which Cicero could 
 recommend the pursuit of literature to his hearers. The 
 whole oration is a beautiful morsel of latinity in which, 
 however, strength of argument is lacking. Cicero declares 
 of Archias that he was so eminent in literature that if not 
 a Ptoman citizen, he ought to be made one. TJie result is 
 not known, but the literary world believes that the citizenship 
 was accorded to him.^ 
 
 The speech on behalf of Sulla was more important, but 
 still not of much importance. This Sulla, as may be 
 remembered, had been chosen as Consul with Autronius, 
 two years l^efore the Consulship of Cicero, and he 
 
 ^ I have been amused at findiiif^ a discnurse elociucut and most cntliusi- 
 astii', in ](rais(! of Cicero and especially of this oration, spoken by M. Gue- 
 rouU at tlie College of France in June 1815. The worst literary faults laid 
 to the charge of Cicero, if committed by him, — wliich M. Gueroult thinks 
 to be doubtful, — had been committed even by Voltaire and Racine ! The 
 learned Frenchman, with whom I altogether sympathise, rises to an ecstasy 
 of violent .icliniralion, ,iiid this at the very moment in which Waterloo 
 was being fought, liiit in tiuth tlu; great doings of the world do not 
 much affect iniliviilmil life. W^e should play our whist at the clubs 
 tlioU'di the liattli- of linikiii'' were bcin;' fou'dit.
 
 CICERO AFTER IIIS CONSULSHIP. 305 
 
 had then after his election, been deposed for bribery, — as 
 had also Autronius. L. Aurelius Cotta and L. Manlius 
 Torquatus had been elected in their places. It has also been 
 already explained that the two rejected Consuls had on this 
 account joined Catiline in his first conspiracy. There can 
 be no doubt that whether as Consuls, or as rejected Consuls 
 and on that account conspirators, their purpose was to use 
 their position as aristocrats for robbing the State. They 
 were of the number of those to whom no other purpose 
 was any longer possible. Then there came Catiline's second 
 conspiracy, — the conspiracy which Cicero had crushed, — and 
 there naturally rose the question whether from time to time 
 this or the other noble Roman should not be accused of 
 having joined it. Many noble Romans had no doubt joined 
 besides those who had fallen fighting, or who had been 
 executed in the dungeons. Accusations became very rife. 
 One Vettius accused Caesar, the Pra3tor; but Csesar, with 
 that potentiality which was peculiar to him, caused Vettius 
 to be put into prison instead of going to prison himself. 
 Many were convicted and banished ; among them Fortius 
 Leca, Vargunteius, Servius Sulla, the brother of him of whom 
 we are now speaking, and Autronius his colleague. In the 
 trial of these men Cicero took no part. He was specially 
 invited by Autronius who was an old schoolfellow, to defend 
 him, — but he refused. Indeed, he gave evidence against 
 Autronius at the trial. But this Publius Sulla he did defend, 
 and defended successfully. He was joined in the case Avith 
 Hortensius, and declared that as to the matter of the former 
 conspiracy he left all that to his learned friend, who was 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 concerned witli political matters of that date.' He, Cicero, 
 had known nothing about them. The part of the oration 
 which most interests ns is that in which he defends him- 
 self from the accusations somewhat unwisely made against 
 himself personally by young Torquatus, the son of him 
 who had been raised to the Consulship in the place of P. 
 Sulla, Torquatus had called him a foreigner because lie 
 was a " novus homo " and had come from the municipality 
 of Arpinum, and had taunted him with being a king, 
 because he had usurped authority over life and death in 
 regard to Lentulus and the other conspirators. He answers 
 this very finely, and does so without an ill-natured word to 
 young Tor(|uatus, whom, from respect to his father, he 
 desires to spare. " Do not," he says, " in future call me a 
 foreigner, lest you lie answered with severity, — nor a king, 
 lest you be laughed at ; unless indeed you think it kinglike 
 so to live as to be a slave not only to no man, but to no evil 
 passion ; unless you think it be kingiike to despise all lusts, 
 to thirst for neither gold nor silver nor goods, to express 
 yourself freely in the Senate, to think more of services due 
 to the people than of favours won from them, to yield to 
 none, and to stand firm against many. If this be kinglike 
 then I confess that I am a king." Sulla was acquitted, but 
 the impartial reader will not the less feel sure that he had 
 
 ' Pro I'. Siilln, iv. " Scis, mo." .... " illonun expertem temporum et 
 fiprmoiiiuii I'lii.'-sc ; credo, finml iiomlimi ])r'iiifus in ivpnlilica vcrsiibar, qiiod 
 noiiduin ad propositum iiiilii I'liirni lumoris iMrvciicrniii." .... " Quis ergo 
 intcrcrat vcHtris consilii.s ? Oiiincs hi, quoH vidcs liuic adesso et in primis 
 (^. Uortcnsiu3."
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS COXSULSHIP. 307 
 
 been part and parcel with Catiline in the conspiracy. It is 
 trusted that the impartial reader will also remember how 
 many honest loyal gentlemen have in onr own days under- 
 taken the causes of those whom they have known to be rebels, 
 and have saved those rebels by their ingenuity and eloquence. 
 
 At the end of this year, B.C. 62, there occurred a fracas 
 in Eome which was of itself but of little consequence to 
 Rome, and would have been of none to Cicero but that 
 circumstances grew out of it which created for him the 
 bitterest enemy he had yet encountered, and led to his sorest 
 trouble. This was the affair of Clodius and of the mysteries 
 of the Bona Dea, and I should be disposed to say that it w-as 
 the greatest misfortune of his life were it not that the 
 wretched results which sprang from it would have been made 
 to spring from some other source had tliat source not sufficed. 
 I shall have to tell how it came to pass that Cicero was 
 sent into exile by means of the misconduct of Clodius ; — 
 but I shall have to show also that the misconduct of Clodius 
 w^as but the tool which was used by those wdio were desirous 
 of ridding themselves of the presence of Cicero. 
 
 This Clodius, a young man of noble family and of de- 
 bauched manners, — as was usual with young men of noble 
 families, — dressed himself up as a woman, and made his way 
 in among the ladies as they were performing certain religious 
 rites in honour of the Bona Dea, or goddess Cybele, a matron 
 goddess so chaste in her manners that no male was admitted 
 into her presence. It was specially understood that nothing 
 appertaining to a man was to be seen on the occasion, — not 
 even the portrait of one; and it may possibly have been the 
 
 X 2
 
 308 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 case that Clodius effected his entrance among the worshipping 
 matrons on this occasion simply because his doing so was 
 an outrage and therefore exciting. Another reason was 
 alleged. The rites in question were annually held, now in 
 the house of this matron and then of that, and during the 
 occasion the very master of the house was excluded from his 
 own premises. They were now being performed under the 
 auspices of Porapeia, the wife of Julius Cresar, — the daughter 
 of one Quintus Pompeius, — and it was alleged that Clodius 
 came among the women worshippers for the sake of carrying 
 on an intrigue with Caesar's wife. This was highly im- 
 probable, as Mr. Forsyth has pointed out to us, and the idea 
 w\as possibly used simply as an excuse to Caesar for divorcing 
 a wife of whom he was weary. At any rate when the scandal 
 got abroad he did divorce Pompeia, alleging that it did not 
 jj- gj suit Caesar to have his wife suspected. The story 
 aetat46. -bgcame known through the city, and early in 
 January Cicero wrote to Atticus, telling him the facts. 
 " You have pro])abIy heard that Publius Clodius, the son 
 of Apjiius, has been taken dressed in a woman's clothes in 
 the house of Caius Cicsar, where sacrifice was being made 
 for the people, and that he escaped by the aid of a female 
 slave. You will be sorry to hear that it has given rise to 
 a great scandal."^ A few days afterwards Cicero speaks of 
 it again to Atticus at greater length, and we Icaru that the 
 nuitter had been taken up by the nuigistrates witli the view 
 of pun is] ling Clodius. Cicero writes without any strong 
 
 1 Ad Att. lili. i.l2.
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 309 
 
 feeling of his own, explaining to his friend that he had been 
 at first a very Lycurgus in the affair, but that he is now 
 tamed down.^ Then there is a third letter in which Cicero 
 is indignant because certain men of whom lie disapproves, — 
 the Consul Piso among tlie number,^ are anxious to save this 
 wicked young nobleman from the punishment due to him ; 
 whereas otliers of whom he approves, Cato among the num- 
 ber, are desirous of seeing justice done. But it was no affair 
 special to Cicero. Shortly afterwards he Avrites again to 
 Atticus as to the result of the trial, — for a trial did take 
 place, — and explains to his friend how justice had failed. 
 Atticus had asked him how it liad come to pass that he, 
 Cicero, had not exerted himself as he usually did.^ This 
 letter, though there is matter enough in it of a serious kind, 
 yet jests with the Clodian affair so continually as to make 
 us feel that he attributed no importance to it as regarded 
 lumself He had exerted liimself till Hortensius made a 
 mistake as to the selection of the judges. After that he 
 had himself given evidence. An attempt was made to prove 
 an alibi, but Cicero came forward to swear that he had seen 
 Clodius on the very day in question. There had too been 
 an exchange of repartee in the Senate between himself and 
 Clodius after the acquittal, of which he gives the details 
 to his correspondent with considerable self-satisfaction. The 
 passage does not enhance our idea of the dignity of the 
 Senate, or of the power of Eoman raillery. It was known 
 
 1 Ad Att. i. 13. 2 Ad Att. i. 14. 
 
 ^ Ad Alt. i. 16. " Vis scire quoiiiodo minus quam soleam prajliatus 
 sum."
 
 310 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 that Clodius had been saved by the wholesale bribery of a 
 large number of the judges, There had been twenty-five for 
 condemning against thirty-one for acquittal.^ Cicero in the 
 Catiline affair had used a phrase with frequency by which 
 he boasted that he had "found out" this and "found out" 
 that ; — " comperisse omnia." Clodius in the discussion before 
 the trial throws this in his teeth. " Comperisse omnia 
 crimiuabatur." This gave rise to ill feeling, and hurt Cicero 
 much worse than the dishonour done to the Bona Dea. As 
 for that we may say that he and the Senate and the 
 judges cared personally very little, although there was no 
 doubt a feeling that it was wise to awe men's minds by 
 the preservation of religious respect. Cicero had cared 
 but little about the trial ; but as he had been able to 
 give evidence he had appeared as a witness, and enmity 
 sprang from the words which were spoken both on one side 
 and on the other. Clodius was acquitted, — which concerns 
 us not at all, and concerns Eome very little; but things 
 had so come to pass at the trial that Cicero had been very 
 bitter and that Clodius had become his enemy. When a 
 man was wanted three years afterwards to take the lead 
 in persecuting Cicero, Clodius was ready for the occasion. 
 AVhile the expediency of putting Clodius on his trial was 
 being discussed Ponipey had returned from tlie East, and 
 
 ' Vrm li.ivt; l.oii;,'lit a fine house," said Clodius. " Tlioro would be more 
 in wliat you s:iy if you could accuse me of buying judf,'cfi," re]>lied Cicero. 
 "'J'be judge would not triiKt you on ydur (i:itli," said Cindius, referring 
 to the abbi by wliirli br had cscaiHid in oj)poHition to Cicero's oath. 
 "Yes," irplicd Circio, " tweiity-fivo trusted mo ; hut not one of the 
 thirty-one would trust you williout iiaving his bribe jiaid beforehand,"
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 311 
 
 taken up his residence outside the city, because he was 
 awaiting his triumph. The General, to whom it was given 
 to march through the city with triumphal glory, was bound 
 to make his first entrance after his victories with all his 
 triumphal appendages, — as though he was at tliat moment 
 returning from the war with all his warlike spoils around 
 him. The usage had obtained the strength of law, but 
 the General was not on that account debarred from city 
 euiployment during the interval. The city must be taken 
 out to him instead of his coming into the city. Pompey was 
 so great on his return from his Mithridatic victories that the 
 iSenate went out to sit with him in the suburbs, as he could 
 not sit with it within the walls. We find him taking part in 
 these Clodian discussions. Cicero at once writes of him to 
 Athens with evident dissatisfaction. When qu^tioned about 
 Clodius Pompey had answered with the grand air of an 
 aristocrat. Crassus on this occasion, between whom and 
 Cicero there was never nmch friendship, — took occasion to 
 belaud the late great Consul on account of his Catiline 
 successes. Pompey we are told did not bear this well^ 
 Crassus had probably intended to produce some such effect. 
 Then Cicero had spoken in answer to the remarks of Crassus, 
 — very glibly no doubt, and had done his best to " show off " 
 before Pompey his new listener.^ More than six years had 
 passed since Pompey could have heard him, and then Cicero's 
 voice had not become potential in the Senate. Cicero had 
 
 1 Ad. Att. i. 14. ■' rroxime Pompeium sedebam. Intellexi hominem 
 moveri." 
 
 ^ Ibid. ,_" Quo modo eVeTrepTrepeuo-d^Tjv, novo auditori Poinpeio."
 
 312 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 praised Pompey with all the eloquence in liis power. " An- 
 teponatur omnibus Pompeius," he had said in the last 
 Catiline oration to the Senate ; and Pompey, though he had 
 not heard the words spoken, knew very well what had been 
 said. Such oratory was never lost upon those whom it most 
 concerned the orator to make acquainted with it. But in 
 return for all this praise, for that Manilian oration which 
 had helped to send him to the East, for continual loyalty, 
 Pompey had replied to Cicero with coldness. He would now 
 let Pompey know what was his standing in Pome. " If 
 ever," he says to Atticus, '' I was strong with my grand 
 rhythm, with my quick rhetorical passages, with en- 
 thusiasm and with logic, I was so now. Oh, the noise 
 that I made on the occasion ! You know what my voice 
 can do. I need say no more about it, as surely you must 
 liave heard me, away there in Epirus." The reader, I trust, 
 will have already a sufficiently vivid idea of Cicero's charac- 
 ter to understand the mingling of triumph and badinage, 
 with a spark of disapj)ointment, which is here expressed. 
 " This I'unipcy, tliough 1 have been so true to him, has not 
 lliouglit much of me, — of me, tlie great Consul who saved 
 Pome ! lie lias now heard what even Crassus has been 
 forced to say about me. He shall hear me too, me myself, 
 and perhaps he will tlien know better." It was thus that 
 Cicero's mind was at work while lie was turning liis loud 
 peiiods. P(»ni))('y was sitting next to him, li8tening,-^by no 
 means adniiiing liis adniiicr as that admirer expected to be 
 ;i(hiilic(l. (,'i(:ci'() hiiil jtioliably said to himself that they two 
 togclluji', Pom] icy and Cicero, might suffice to preserve the
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 313 
 
 Republic. Pompey, not thinking much of the Eepublic, was 
 probably telling himself that he wanted no brother near the 
 throne. When of two men the first thinks himself equal 
 to the second, the second will generally feel himself to be 
 superior to the first. Pompey w^ould have liked Cicero 
 better if his periods had not been so round nor his voice 
 so powerful. ISTot that Pompey was distinctly desirous of 
 any throne. His position at the moment was peculiar. He 
 had brought back his victorious army from the East to 
 Brundisium and had then disbanded his legions. I will 
 quote here the opening words from one of Mommsen's 
 chapters.^ " When Pompeius, after having transacted the 
 affairs committed to his charge, again turned his eyes towards 
 liome, he found for the second time the diadem at his 
 feet." He says, further on, explaining why Pompey did not 
 lift the diadem ; " The very peculiar temperament of Pom- 
 peius naturally turned once more the scale. He was one of 
 those men who are capable, it may be, of a crime, but not of 
 insubordination." And again ; " While in the capital all 
 was preparation for receiving the new monarch, news came 
 that Pompeius, when barely landed at Brundisium, had 
 broken up his legions and with a small escort had entered on 
 his journey to the capital. If it is a piece of good fortune 
 
 ^ Monmisen, Book. v. chap. vi. This probably has been taken from the 
 statement of Paterculus, lib. ii. 40. " Qiiippe plerique uon sine cxer- 
 citu veuturum in nrbem adfirmabant, et libertati publico statuturuni 
 arbitrio suo modum. Quo magis hoc homines timiierant, eo gratior civilis 
 tanti imperatoris reditus fait." No doubt there was a dread among many 
 of Pompey coming back as Sulla had come ; — not from indications to bo 
 found in the character of Pompey, but because Sulla had done so.
 
 314 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 to gain a crown without trouble, fortune never did more for 
 mortal than it did for Pompeius ; but on those who lack 
 courage the gods lavish every favour and every gift in vain." 
 I must say here that while I acknowledge the German 
 liistorian's research and knowledge without any reserve, I 
 cannot accept his deductions as to character. I do not 
 believe that Pompey found any diadem at his feet, or 
 thought of any diadem, nor according to my reading of 
 Eoman history, had Marius, or had Sulla ; — nor did Caesar, 
 The first who thought of that perpetual rule, — a rule to be 
 perpetuated during the ruler's life and to be handed down to 
 his successors, — was Augustus. Marius, violent, self-seek- 
 ing, and uncontrollable, had tumbled into supreme power, 
 and had he not died, would have held it as long as he could, 
 because it pleased his ambition for the moment. Sulla, with 
 a purpose had seized it, yet seems never to have got beyond 
 the old Ptoman idea of a temporary dictatorship. The old 
 lioman horror of a king was present to these Pomans even 
 alter they had become kings. Pompey no doubt liked to 
 be first, and wlien he came back from the East thought that 
 by las deeds he was first, — easily first. Whether Consul 
 year after year, as Marius had been, or Dictator as Sulla had 
 been, or Imperator with a running command over all the 
 llomans, it was his idea still to adhere to the forms of tlie 
 Kcpublic. Mommsen foreseeing, — if an historian can be said 
 to foresee 1h»! liiture from liis standing-point in the past, — 
 tliat a master was to come for the Ponuin Empire, and giving 
 all liis sympatliies to the Ciesarean idea, — despises Pompey 
 because Pompey w(jiild not pick up tlic diadem. No such
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 315 
 
 idea ever entered Pompey's head. After a while he " Sulla- 
 turised," — was desirous of copying SuUa, — to use an ex- 
 cellent word which Cicero coined. When he was successfully 
 opposed by those whom he had thought inferior to himself, 
 when he found that Caisar had got the better of him, and 
 that a stronger body of Eomans went with Caesar than with 
 him, then proscriptions, murder, confiscations, and the seizing 
 of dictatorial power, presented themselves to his angry mind ; 
 — but of permanent despotic power there was, I think, no 
 thought, nor, as far as I can read the records, had such an 
 idea been fixed in Cesar's bosom. To carry on the old trade 
 of Proitor, Consul, Proconsul, and Imperator, so as to get 
 what he could of power and wealth and dignity in the scram- 
 ble, was, I think, Caesar's purpose. The rest grew upon 
 him. As Shakespeare sitting down to write a play that might 
 serve his theatre composed some "Lear" or "Tempest," that 
 has lived and will live for ever because of the genius which 
 was unknown to himself; so did Csesar by his genius find his 
 way to a power which he had not premeditated. A much 
 longer time is necessary for eradicating an idea from men's 
 minds than a fact from their practice. This should be 
 proved to us by our own loyalty to the word " monarch," 
 when nothing can be further removed from a monarchy than 
 our own commonwealth. Prom those first breaches in 
 republican practice which the historian Plorus dates back to 
 the siege of Numantia,^ 133 B.C., down far into the reign 
 
 ^ Florus, lib. ii. xix. Having described to us the siege of Numantia he 
 goes on, " Hactenus popuhis Romanus pulcher, egregius, pius, sanctus atque 
 maguificus. Reliijua seculi, ut graudia a-que, ita vel magis turbida et fuida.
 
 316 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of Aiigustus, it took a century and a quarter to make the 
 ])eople understand that there was no longer a republican form 
 of government, and to produce a leader who could himself 
 see that there was room for a despot. 
 
 Pompey had his triumph, but the same aristocratic airs 
 which had annoyed Cicero had offended others. He was 
 shorn of his honours. Only two days were allowed for his 
 processions. He was irritated, jealous, and no doubt desirous 
 of making his power felt ; but he thought of no diadem. 
 Caesar saw it all, and he thought of that conspiracy which 
 we have since called the First Triumvirate. 
 
 The two years to which this chapter has been given were 
 B c 62 & 61 ^^neventful in Cicero's life, and produced but little 
 aBtat45&46- (,f that stock of literature by whicli he has been 
 made one of mankind's prime favourites. Two discourses 
 were written and published, and probably spoken, which are 
 now lost; that namely to the people against Metellus, in 
 which no doubt he put forth all that he had intended to say 
 when Metellus stopped him from speaking at the expiration 
 of his Consulship ; the second against Clodius and Curio in 
 tlie Senate, in rel'erence to the discreditible Clodian affair. 
 The fragments which we have of tliis contain those asperities 
 which he retailed afterwards in his letter to Atticus, and 
 are not either instructive or amusing. But we learn from 
 tli(!se fragments tliat Clddius was already ]in'pariiig that 
 scIkjuk; I'oi- cutriiiig lln; tril)un;il(' l)y an illegal repudiation 
 (if his own family rank, wliicli he afterwards carried out to 
 the great detri UK,' nt ol' ( "iecro's liap])iness. Of the speeches 
 o.Ktant, on behalf of Aichias and V. Sulla, I have spoken
 
 CICERO AFTER HIS CONSULSHIP. 317 
 
 already. We know of no others made during this pericul. 
 We have one letter besides this to Atticus, addressed to 
 Antony his former colleague, which, like many of his letters, 
 was written solely for the sake of popularity. 
 
 During these years he lived no doubt splendidly, as one of 
 the great men of the greatest city in the world. He had his 
 magnificent new mansion in Rome, and his various villas which 
 were already becoming noted for their elegance and charms of 
 upholstery and scenic beauty. Not only had lie climbed to 
 the top of official life himself, but had succeeded in taking 
 his brother Quintus up with him. In the second of the two 
 years, B.C. 61, Quintus had been sent out as Governor or Pro- 
 prietor to Asia, having then nothing higher to reacli than the 
 Consulship, — which however he never attained. This step 
 in the life of Quintus has become famous by a letter which 
 the elder brother wrote to him in the second year of his 
 office, — to which reference will be made in the next chapter. 
 
 So far all things seemed to have gone well with Cicero. 
 He was high in esteem and authority, powerful, rich, and 
 with many people popular. But the student of his life now 
 begins to see that troubles are enveloping him. He had 
 risen too high not to encounter envy, and had been too loud 
 in his own praise not to make those who envied him very 
 bitter in their malice.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE TI.IUMVIRATE. 
 
 I KNOW of no great fact in history so impalpable, so 
 shadowy, so unreal as the First Triumvirate. Every school- 
 B c 60 ^'^y^ almost every school-girl, knows that there was 
 aeiat. 47, ^ Yhst Triumvirate, and that it was a political com- 
 hination made by three great Eomans, of the day, Julius 
 Caesar, Pompey the Great, and Crassus the Rich for managing 
 Rome among them. Beyond this they know little, — because 
 there is little to know. That it was a conspiracy against 
 the ordained government of the day, as much so as that 
 of Catiline, or Guy Faux, or Xapoleon III., they do not 
 know generally, because Csesar who, though the youngest of 
 the three was the mainspring of it, rose by means of it to 
 such a galaxy of glory, that all the steps by which he rose to 
 it liave been supposed to be magnificent and heroic. But of 
 the method in which this Triumvirate was constructed who 
 lias an idea ? How was it first suggested, where, and by 
 whom ? AVhat was it that the conspirators combined to do ? 
 There was no purpose of wholesale murder like that of 
 Catiline for destroying the Senate and of Guy Faux for 
 blowing up tli(! House of Lords. There was no plot arranged 
 for silencing a liody of legislators, like that of Napoleon. In 
 these scram])li,'S tliat are going on every year for place and
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 319 
 
 power, for provinces and plunder, let us help each other. If 
 we can manage to stick fast by each other we can get all the 
 power and nearly all the plunder. That, said with a wink by 
 one of the Triumvirate, — Csesar let us say, — and assented to 
 with a nod by Pompey and Crassus, was sufficient for tlie 
 construction of such a conspiracy as that which I presume to 
 have been hatched when the first Triumvirate was formed.^ 
 Mommsen, who never speaks of a Triumvirate under that 
 name, except in his index 2 where he has permitted the 
 word to appear for tlie guidance of persons less well in- 
 structed than himself, — connects tlie transaction which we 
 call the First Triumvirate with a former coalition, which he 
 describes as having been made in B.C. 71, the year before 
 the Consulship of Pompey and Crassus. With that we need 
 not concern ourselves as we are dealing with the life of Cicero 
 rather than with Roman history, except to say that Csesar, 
 who M^as the motive power of the second coalition, could 
 have had no personal hand in that of 71. Though he had 
 spent his early years in " harassing the aristocracy," as Dean 
 jVTerivale tells us, — he had not been of sufficient standing iu 
 
 ' "Wo hnve not Pollio's poem on the conspiracy, but we have HoraceV 
 record of Pollio's pnem ; — 
 
 " Jlotum ex Jletello consnle civicuni, 
 Belliqne causa s, et vitia, et modos, 
 Ludumqiie Fortunre, gravesqne 
 Principum amicitias, et arma 
 Nondum expiatis nncta cruoiibus, 
 Periculospe plenum opus alere, 
 Tractas, et incedis per ignes 
 
 Suppositos cineri doloso." — Odes, lib. ii. 1. 
 2 The German index appeared very much after the original work ;— as 
 late as 1875.
 
 320 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 men's minds to be put on a par with Pompey and Crassus. 
 When this "First Triumvirate" was formed, — as the modern 
 worki generally calls it, — or the second coalition between the 
 democracy and the great military leaders as Mommsen with 
 greater, but not with perfect accuracy describes it, Csesar no 
 doubt had at his fingers' ends the history of past years. "Tlie 
 idea naturally occurred," says Mommsen, " whether .... an 
 alliance firmly based on mutual advantage might not be 
 established between the democrats with their ally Crassus on 
 the one side, and Pompeius and the great capitalists on the 
 other. For Pompeius such a coalition was certainly a poli- 
 tical suicide." ^ The democracy here means Csesar. Caesar 
 during his whole life had been learning that no good could 
 come to any one from an effete Senate, or from Eepublican 
 forms which had lost all their salt. Democracy was in vogue 
 with him, not, as I think, from any philanthropic desire for 
 equality, not from any far-seeing view of fraternal citizenship 
 under one great paternal lord ; — the study of politics had 
 never then reached to that height ; — l)ut because it was 
 necessary tliat some one, or perliaps some two or three, should 
 prevail in tlie coming struggle, and because he felt himself to 
 be more worthy tlian otliers. He liad no conscience in tlic 
 matter. Money was to him nothing. Another man's money 
 was the same as his own, — or better if he could get hold of it. 
 That doctrine taught by Cicero that men are "ad justitiam 
 natos " must liave been to liim simjily absurd. Blood was to 
 
 ^ Mommsen, Lib. v. olmp. G. I cannot admit that Mommsen is slnctly 
 accurate as Cffisar li^nl no ival jilca ol' iliinorrary. He dcsirtMl to he the 
 Hc'ul of the Olig'irclis, mid a.s hucIi to iiif^ratiatc hiniscH" willi tlic iicuplc.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATJC. 321 
 
 him notliing. A friend was better tlian a foe, and a live man 
 than a dead. Bloodthirstiness was a passion unknown to 
 liini; but that tenderness which with us creates a horror of 
 blood was equally unknown. Pleasure was sweet to him ; but 
 he was man enough to feel that a life of pleasure was con- 
 temptible. To pillage a city, to pilfer his all from a rich man, 
 to debauch a friend's wife, to give over a multitude of women 
 and children to slaughter, was as easy to him as to forgive 
 an enemy. But nothing rankled with him and he could 
 forgive an enemy. Of courage he had that better sort which 
 can appreciate and calculate danger, and then act as though 
 there were none. Nothing was wrong to him but what was 
 injudicious. He could flatter, cajole, lie, deceive, and rob ; 
 nay, would think it folly not to do so if to do so were expe- 
 dient.^ In this coalition he appears as supporting and sup- 
 ported by the people. Therefore Mommsen speaks of him 
 as the " democrat." Crassus is called the ally of the demo- 
 crats. It will be enough for us here to know that Crassus 
 had achieved his position in the Senate by his enormous 
 wealth, and that it was because of his wealth which was 
 essential to Csesar, that he was admitted into the league. 
 
 "'■ For the character of Coesar generally I would refer readers to Sue- 
 tonius, whose life of the great man is to my thinking more graphic than 
 any that has been written since. For his anecdotes there is little or 
 no evidence. His facts are not all historical. His knowledge was 
 very much less accurate than that of modern writers who have had 
 the benefit of research and comparison. But there was enougli of his- 
 tory, of biography, and of tradition to enable him to form a true idea 
 of the man. He himself as a narrator was neither specially friendly nor 
 specially hostile. He has told what was believed at the time, and he has 
 drawn h character that agrees perfectly with all that we have learned since. 
 VOL. I. y
 
 322 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 By means of his wealth he had risen to power and had 
 conquered and killed Spartacus, — of the honour and glory 
 of which Pompey robbed him. Then he had been made 
 Consul, When Caesar had gone as Propraetor to Spain 
 Crassus had found the money. Now Caesar had come 
 back and was hand and glove with Crassus. When the 
 division of the spoil came, some years afterwards, — the 
 spoil won by the Triumvirate, — when Cresar had half per- 
 fected his grand achievements in Gaul, and Crassus had as 
 yet been only a second time Consul, he got himself to be sent 
 into Syria, that by conquering the Parthians he might make 
 liimself equal to Caesar. We know how he and his son 
 perished there, each of them probably avoiding the last ex- 
 tremity of misery to a Eoman, that of falling into the hands 
 of a barbarian enemy, by destroying himself. Than the life 
 of Crassus nothing could be more contemptible, — than 
 the death nothing more pitiable. " Por Pompeius," says 
 Mommsen, " such a coalition was certainly a political suicide." 
 As events turned out it became so, because Caesar was the 
 stron<Ter man of the two ; but it is intelligible that at that 
 time Pompey should have felt that he could not lord it over 
 the Senate as he wished to do without aid from the demo- 
 cratic party. He had no well-defined views, but he w^ished 
 to be the first man in Rome. He regarded himself as still 
 greatly superior to Caesar, who as yet had been no more than 
 Prsetor nnd at tliis time was being balked of his triumph 
 because lie could not at one and the same moment be in 
 the city, as candidate for the Consulsliip, and out of the 
 city waiting for his triumph. Pompey had triumphed three
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 323 
 
 times, had been Consul at an unnaturally early age with 
 abnormal honours, had been victorious east and west, and 
 was called " Magnus." He did not as yet fear to be over- 
 shadowed by Caesar.^ Cicero was his bugbear. 
 
 Mommsen I believe to be right in eschewing the word 
 " Triumvirate." I know no mention of it by any Eoman 
 writer as applied to this conspiracy, though Tacitus, Suetonius, 
 and riorus call by that name the later coalition of Octavius, 
 Antony and Lepidus. The Langhornes in translating 
 Plutarch's life of Crassus speak of the Triumvirate; Dub 
 Plutarch himself says that Csesar combined " an impregnable 
 stronghold" by joining the three men.^ Paterculus and 
 Stietonius ^ explain very clearly the nature of the compact 
 but do not nse the term. There was nothing in tlie con- 
 spiracy entitling it to any official appellation, though as there 
 were three leading conspirators that which has been used has 
 been so far appropriate. 
 
 ^ By no one has the character and ohject of the Triumvirate been so well 
 desciibed as by Lucan, who, bombastic as be is, still manages to bring 
 home to the reader the ideas as to persons and events which he wishes to 
 convey. I have ventured to give in an Appendix, E., the passages referred 
 to, with such a translation in prose as I have been able to produce. It will 
 be found at the end of this volume. 
 
 - Plutarch ; Crassus. " «ai ffwearrifffv e'/c raJy rpioji' iVxw afiaxov." 
 3 Yell ei us Paterculus, lib. ii. 44. " Hoc igitur consule, inter eum et Cn. 
 Pompeium et ]\I. Crassum inita potentina societas, quae urbi orbique terrarum, 
 nee minus diverso quoque tempore ipsis exitiabilis fuit." Suetonius, Julius 
 Cffisar, xix., " Societatem cum utroque iniit." Officers called Triumviri were 
 quite common, as were quinqueviri and decemviri. Livy speaks of a 
 " Triumviratus," — or rather two such offices exercised by one man, — ix. 46. 
 ^Ye remember too that wretch whom Horace gibbeted, Epod. iv. "Sectus 
 flagellis hie triumviralibus." But the word though in common use was not 
 ap]ilied to this conspiracy. 
 
 Y 2
 
 B.C. 60, . 
 
 sstat 47. 
 
 324 LIFE OF CICEnO. 
 
 Cicero was the bngbear to them all. That he might have 
 been one of them, if ready to share the plunder and the 
 power, no reader of the history of the time can doubt. Had 
 he so chosen he might again have been a "real 
 power in the State ; " but to become so in the way 
 proposed to him it was necessary that he should join others 
 in a conspiracy against the Republic. 
 
 I do not wish it to be supposed that Cicero received the 
 overtures made to him with horror. Conspiracies were too 
 common for horror; and these conspirators were all our 
 Cicero's friends in one sense, — though in another they might 
 be his opponents. We may imagine that first Crassus had 
 nothing to do with the matter, and that Pompey would fain 
 have stood aloof in his jealousy. But Caesar knew that it 
 was well to have Cicero, if Cicero was to be had. It was 
 not only his eloquence which was marvellously powerful, 
 or his energy which had been shown to be indomitable. 
 There was his character, surpassed by that of no Eoman 
 living, — if only in giving them the use of his character, he 
 could be got to disregard the honour and the justice and 
 the patriotism on which his character had been founded. 
 How valuable may character be made, if it can be employed 
 under such conditions ! To be believed because of your 
 trulli, and yet to lie ; to be trusted for your honesty, and 
 yet to cheat; to have credit for patriotism, and ^^et to sell 
 your couutiy ! Tiio l(;iii])(at ions to do this are rarely put 
 before a man plainly, in all Ihcii' naked ugliness. Tliey 
 certainly were not s(j presented to Cicero by Caesar and 
 his associates. The bait was held out to him, as it is daily
 
 TUB TRIUMVIRATE. 325 
 
 to others, in a form not repellent, with words fitted to deceive 
 and powerful almost to persuade. Give us the advantage of 
 your character, and then by your means we shall be able to 
 save our country. Though our line of action may not be 
 strictly constitutional, if you will look into it you will see 
 that it is expedient. What other course is there ? How else 
 shall any wreck of the Eepublic be preserved ? Would you 
 be another Cato, useless and impractical ? Join us and save 
 liome to some purpose. We can understand that in such way 
 was the lure held out to Cicero, as it has been to many a 
 politician since. But when the politician takes the office 
 offered to him, — and the pay, though it be but that of a Lord 
 of the Treasury, — he must vote with his party. 
 
 That Cicero doubted much whether he -would or would 
 not at this time throw in his lot with Cnesar and Pompey 
 is certain. To be of real use, not to be impractical as was 
 Cato, to save his country and rise honestly in power and 
 glory, not to be too straitlaced, not over-scrupulous, giving 
 and taking a little, so that he might work to good purpose 
 with others in harness ; that was his idea of duty as a 
 Koman, To serve in accord with Pompey was the first 
 dream of his political life, and now Pompey was in accord 
 with Coesar. It was natural that he should doubt, — natural 
 that he should express his doubts. Who should receive them 
 but Atticus, that ' alter ego ' ? Cicero doubted whether he 
 should cling to Pompey, — as he did in every phase of liis 
 political life, till Pompey had perished at the mouth of the 
 Nile. But at last he saw his way clear to honesty, — as 
 I think he always did. He tells his friend that Ca3sar had
 
 326 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 sent liis confidential messenger, Balbiis, to sound liirn. The 
 present question is whether he shall resist a certain agrarian 
 law of which he does not approve, but which is supported 
 by both Pompey and Cresar, or retire from the contest and 
 enjoy himself at his country villas, — or boldly stay at Eome 
 and oppose the law. Csesar assures him that if he will come 
 over to them Caesar will be always true to him and Pompey, 
 and will do liis best to bring Crassus into the same frame 
 of mind. Then he reckons up all the good things which 
 would accrue to hira. " Closest friendship with Pompey, — 
 with Csesar also should he wish it ; the making up of all 
 quarrels with his enemies ; popularity with the people ; ease 
 for his old age which was coming on him. But that con- 
 clusion moves me to which I came in my third Book." ^ 
 Then he repeats the lines given in the note below, which he 
 had written, probably this very year, in a poem composed 
 in honour of his own Consulship. The lines are not in them- 
 selves grand, but the spirit of them is magnificent. " Stick 
 to the good cause which in your early youth you chose for 
 your.self, and be true to the party you have made your own." 
 " Shouhl I doubt wlicn the muse herself has so written," he 
 says, alluding to the name of Calliope, given to this third 
 
 ^ Ad. Att. lib. ii. 3. " Is ;illiiinali;it, ilium oinuibus in rebus moo et 
 Pompeii consilio usurum, daturunique operani, \\t cuia Tompeio Crassum con- 
 juiigcret. Hie sunt ha;c. Coujunctioniihi suuiniu cum Pompcio; si placet 
 etiam cum Csesare ; reditus in gratiam cum iniiuicis, pax cum multitudine ; 
 ficucctutis otiuin. Scd nio /cara/cAeiv incii ilia couiniovct, qua", est in libra iii. 
 
 •' Intcrea cuisus, quos jninia a pait(t juventa', 
 Quosque adeo consul virtutc, aninioiiue jxitisti, 
 li'js rctinc, atipic augc fauiani lauilcH([U(; boiioiuni."
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. ?>-Tl 
 
 book of Ms. Then he adds a h"iie of Homer, very excelleiifc 
 for the oceasion. ' " No augury for the future can be better 
 for you than that whicli Lids you serve your country," 
 " But," he says, " we will talk of all that when you come 
 to me for the holidays. Your bath shall be ready for you — 
 your sister and mother shall be of the party." And so the 
 doubts are settled. 
 
 Now came on the question of the Tribuneship of Clodius 
 ^ „ gQ in reference to which I will quote a passage out 
 agtat47. ^i^ Middleton because the phrase which he uses 
 exactly explains the purposes of Coesar and Pompey. 
 " Clodius, who had been contriving all this while how to 
 revenge himself on Cicero, began now to give an opening 
 to the scheme, which he had formed for that purpose. His 
 project was, to get himself chosen Tribune, and in that 
 ofhce to drive him out of the city, by the publication of 
 a law, which, by some stratagem or other, he hoped to 
 obtrude on the people. But as all Patricians were incapable 
 of the Tribunate, by its original institution, so his first step 
 was to make himself a Plebeian by the pretence of an 
 adoption into a Plebeian house, which could not yet be done 
 without the suffrage of the people. This case was wholly 
 new, and contrary to all the forms ; wanting every condition, 
 and serving none of the ends, which were required in regular 
 adoptions ; so that, on the first proposal, it seemed too extra- 
 vagant to be treated seriously, and would soon have been 
 hissed off with scorn, had it not been concerted and privately 
 
 ^ Homer, Iliad, lib. xii, 2i3. " Els o\u>vh$ Apiaros ajxvveffdai irepl narp-ns."
 
 328 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 supported by persons of much more weight than Clodius. 
 Csesar was at the bottom of it, and Pompey secretly favoured 
 it ; not that they intended to ruin Cicero, but to keep him 
 only under the lash ; and if they could not draw him into 
 their measures, to make him at least sit quiet and let Clodius 
 loose upon him." ^ 
 
 This, no doubt, \vas the intention of the political leaders 
 in liome at this conjunction of affairs. It had been found 
 impossible to draw Cicero gently into the net, so that he 
 should become one of them. If he would live quietly at 
 his Antian or Tusculan villa, amidst his books and writings, 
 he should be treated with all respect. He should be borne 
 with even though he talked so much of his own Consulate. 
 But if he would interfere with the politics of the day, and 
 would not come into the net, then he must be — dealt with. 
 Ca3sar seems to have respected Cicero always, and even to 
 have liked him. But he was not minded to put up with 
 a " friend " in Rome who from day to day abused all his 
 projects. In defending Antony, the IMacedonian Proconsul 
 who was condemned, Cicero made some unpleasant remarks 
 on the then condition of things. Caesar, we are told, when 
 he heard of this, on the very spur of the moment, caused 
 Clodius to be accepted as a plebeian. 
 
 in all this we are reminded of the absolute truth of 
 ^btniiiisen's verdict on Pome which I have already quoted 
 more than once. "On the Poman oligarchy of this period 
 no judgment can be passed save one of inexorable and 
 
 ' Miilillcl(jirs 1 ai'e of Cicero, vol. i. p. 2i)l.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 329 
 
 remorseless condemnation." Jlow had it come to pass that 
 Caesar had the power of suddenly causing an edict to become 
 law, — whether for good or for evil ? Cicero's description of 
 what took place is as follows.' "About the sixth hour of 
 the day, when I was defending my colleague Antony in 
 court, I took occasion to complain of certain things which 
 were being done in the Eepublic, and which I thouglit to be 
 injurious to my poor client. Some dishonest persons carried 
 my words to men in power," — meaning Caesar and Pompey, 
 — " not indeed my own words, but words very different from 
 mine. At the ninth hour on that very same day, you, 
 Clodius, were accepted as a Plebeian." Caesar having been 
 given to understand that Cicero had been making himself 
 disagreeable, was determined not to put up with it. Suetonius 
 tells the same story with admirable simplicity. Of Suetonius 
 it must be said that if he had no sympathy for a patriot such 
 as Cicero, neither had he any desire to represent in rosy 
 colours the despotism of a Caesar. He tells his stories simply 
 as he has heard them. "Cicero," says Suetonius,^ "having at 
 some trial complained of the state of the times, Caesar, on the 
 very same day, at the ninth hour, passed Clodius over from 
 the patrician to the plebeian rank in accordance with his own 
 desire." How did it come to pass that Caesar who, though 
 Consul at the time, had no recognised power of that nature, 
 
 ' Pro Domo Sua, xvi. Tliis was au oration, as the reader will soon learn 
 more at length, in which the orator pleaded for the restoration of his town 
 mansion after his return from exile. It has however been doubted whether 
 the speech as we have it was ever made by Cicero. 
 
 - Suetonius. Julius Ciesar, xx.
 
 330 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 was efficacious for any such work as this? Because the 
 Eepublic had come to the condition which the German 
 historian has described. The conspiracy between Caesar 
 and his subordinates had not been made for nothins;. 
 
 The reader will require to know why Clodius should have 
 desired degradation, and how it came to pass that this 
 degradation should have been fatal to Cicero. The story has 
 been partly told in the passage from Middleton. A patrician 
 in accordance with the constitution could not be a Tribune 
 of the people. From the commencement of the Tribunate 
 that office had been reserved for the Plebeia,ns. But a 
 Tribune had a power of introducing laws which exceeded 
 that of any Senator or any other official. " They had acquired 
 the right," we are told in Smith's Dictionary of Greek and 
 Eoman Antiquities, " of proposing to the comitia tributa, or 
 to the Senate, measures on nearly all the important affairs 
 of the State." And as matters stood at this time no one 
 Tribune could " veto " or put an arbitrary stop to a proposition 
 from another. "When such proposition was made, it was 
 simply for the people to decide by their votes whether it 
 should or should not be law. The present object was to have 
 a proposition made and carried suddenly, in reference to 
 Cicero, which should have at any rate the effect of stopping 
 liis moutli. Tills could be best done by a Tribune of the 
 people. No other adequate Tribune could be found, — no 
 I*lebeian so incensed against Cicero as to be willing to do this, 
 possessing at the same time power enough to be elected. 
 Tlierefore it was that Clodius was so anxious to be degraded. 
 
 No Patrician could become a Tribune of the people ; — but
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 331 
 
 a Patrician might be adopted by a Plebeian, and the adopted 
 chiki would take the rank of his father, — would in fact ibr 
 all legal purposes be the same as a son. Por doing this in 
 any case a law had to be passed, — or in other words the assent 
 of the people must be obtained and registered. But many 
 conditions were necessary. The father intending to adopt 
 must have no living son of his own, and must be past the 
 time of life at which he might naturally hope to have one, — 
 and the adopted son must be of a fitting age to personate a 
 son, at any rate must be j^ounger than the father ; — nothing 
 must be done injurious to either family ; — there must be no 
 trick in it, no looking after other result than that plainly 
 intended. All these conditions were broken. The pretended 
 father, Ponteius, had a family of his own, and was younger 
 than Clodius. The great Claudian family was desecrate 1, and 
 there was no one so ignorant as not to know that the purpose 
 intended was that of entering the Tribunate by a fraud. It 
 was required by the general law that the Sacred College 
 sliould report as to the proper observances of the prescribed 
 regulations, but no priest was ever consulted. Yet Clodius 
 was adopted, made a Plebeian, and in the course of the year 
 elected as Tribune. 
 
 In reading all this the reader is mainly struck by the 
 wonderful admixture of lawlessness and law-abiding stead- 
 fastness. If Ca:?sar, who was already becoming a tyrant iu 
 his Consulship, chose to make use of this means of silencing 
 Cicero, why not force Clodius into the Tribunate without 
 so false and degrading a ceremony ? But if, — as was no 
 doubt the case, — he was not yet strong enough to ignore the
 
 332 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 old pojDular feelings on the subject, how was it that he was 
 able to laiigli in his sleeve at the laws, and to come forth 
 at a moment's notice and cause the people to vote, legally 
 or illegally, just as he pleased ? It requires no conjuror to 
 tell us the reason. The outside bulls and husks remain, 
 when the rich fruit has gone. It was in seeing this, and yet 
 not quite believing that it must be so, that the agony of 
 Cicero's life consisted. There could have been no hope for 
 freedom, no hope for the Eepublic, M'hen Rome had been 
 governed as it was during the Consulship of Caesar ; but 
 Cicero could still hope, though faintly, and still buoy himself 
 up with remembrances of his own year of office. 
 
 In carrying on the story of the newly adopted child to his 
 election as Tribune I have gone beyond the time of my 
 narrative ; so that the reader may understand the cause and 
 nature and effect of the ano-er which Clodius entertained 
 for Cioero. This originated in the bitter words spoken as 
 to the profanation of the Bona Dea, and led to the means for 
 achieving Cicero's exile and other untoward passages of his 
 life. In the year GO B.C. when IMetellus Celer and Afraiiius 
 were Consuls, Clodius was tried for insulting the Bona Dea, 
 and the since so-called Triumvirate was instituted. It has 
 already been shown that Cicero, not without many doubts 
 rejected the first offers which w'ere made to him to join the 
 forces that were so united, lie seems to have passed the 
 greater portion cf this year in Home. Cue letter only was 
 wi'ittcn IVoiu tlm countiy, — to Atticus, from liis Tusculan 
 \ill;i, ;iiid ih;i,t is of no sjx'cial nioiiiciit. lb; spi'iit liis time 
 in tlie cit}', still eJigaged in the [lolilics ol' the tlay, as to
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 333 
 
 M'liicli, tliougli he dreaded the coming together of Cresar ami 
 Pompey and Crassus, — those " graves principum amicitias " 
 which were to become so detrimental to all who were con- 
 cerned in them, — he foresaw as yet but little of the evil 
 which was to fall npon his own head. He was by no means 
 idle as to literature, though we have but little of what he 
 wrote, and do not regret what we have lost. He composed a 
 memoir of his Consulate in Greek, which he sent to Atticus 
 with an allusion to his own use of the foreign language 
 intended to show that he is quite at ease in that matter. 
 Atticus had sent him a memoir, also written in Greek, on 
 the same subject, and the two packets had crossed each other 
 on the road. He candidly tells Atticus that his attempt 
 seems to be "horridula atque incompta," rough and un- 
 polished, whereas Posidonius, the great Greek critic of 
 Ehodes who had been invited by him, Cicero, to read the 
 memoir and then himself to treat the same subject, had 
 replied that he was altogether debarred from such an attempt 
 by the excellence of his correspondent's performance.^ He 
 also wrote three books of a poem on his Consulate, and sent 
 them to Atticus ; of which we have a fragment of 75 lines 
 quoted by himself,"^ and four or five other lines including 
 that unfortunate verse handed down by Quintilian, '' 
 fortunatum natam me consule Romam ;" — unless indeed it be 
 spurious as is suggested by that excellent critic and whole- 
 hearted friend of the orator's, 'M. Gueroult. Previous to these 
 
 ^ Ad. Att. lib. ii. 1. "Quid qiiperis?" says Cicero. " Conturbavi 
 Graecam natioiiem." I have put all Greece into a flutter. 
 ^ De Diviuatione, lib, i.
 
 B.C. 60, 
 
 82tat 47. 
 
 334 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 he had produced, in hexameters also, a translation of the 
 Prognostics of Aratiis. This is the second part of a poem on 
 the heavenly bodies, the first part, the Phsenomena, having 
 been turned into Latin verse by him when he was eighteen. 
 Of the Prognostics we have only a few lines preserved by 
 Priscian, and a passage repeated by the author, also in his 
 " De Divinatione." I think that Cicero was capable of pro- 
 ducing a poem quite worthy of preservation ; but in the 
 work of this year the subjects chosen were not alluring. 
 Among his epistles of the year there is one which might 
 of itself have sufficed to bring down his name to 
 posterity. This is a long letter full of advice to 
 his brother Quintus, who had gone out in the previous year 
 to govern the province of Asia as Proprajtor. AVe may say 
 that good advice could never have been more wanted and 
 that better advice could not have been given. It has been 
 suggested that it was written as a companion to that treatise 
 on the duties of a candidate which Quintus composed for his 
 brotlier's service when standing for his Consulship. But I can- 
 not afbiiit the analogy. The composition attributed to Quintus 
 contained lessons of advice equally suitable to any candidate, 
 sprung from the people, striving to rise to high honours in 
 the State. This letter is adapted not only to the special 
 position of Quintus, but to the peculiarities of his cliaracter. 
 And its strengtli lies in this, — that wlnMe the one brother 
 praises tlie otlier, justly praises him as I believe for many 
 virtues so as to make the receipt of it acceptable, it j)oints 
 out faults, — faults whic.li will become fatal, if not amended, 
 — in language which is ikjI only strong but unanswerable.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 335 
 
 The style of this letter is undoubtedly very different from 
 that of Cicero's letters generally, — so as to suggest to the 
 reader that it must have been composed expressly for pub- 
 lication whereas the daily correspondence is written " currente 
 calamo," with no other than the immediate idea of amusing, 
 instructing or perhaps comforting the correspondent. Hence 
 has come the comparison between this and the treatise " De 
 Petitione Consulatus." I think that the gravity of the 
 occasion rather than any regard for posterity produced the 
 change of style. Cicero found it to be essential to induce 
 his brother to remain at his post, not to throw up his govern- 
 ment in disgust, and so to bear himself that he should not 
 make himself absolutely odious to his own staff and to other 
 Eomans around him. For Quintus Cicero, though he had 
 been proud and arrogant and ill-tempered, had not made 
 himself notorious by the ordinary Roman propensity to 
 plunder his province. "What is it that is required of 
 you as a Governor ? " ^ asks Cicero. " That men should not 
 be frightened by your journeys hither and thither, that they 
 should not be eaten up by your extravagance, — that they 
 should not be disturbed by your coming among them ; that 
 there should be joy at your approach ; when each city should 
 
 1 Ad. Quin. Fratrem, lib. i. 1. " Non itineribus tuis perterreri homines ? 
 nou sumptu exhauriri ? non adventu conimoveri ? Esse, quocumque veneris, 
 et pnblice et privatim, maximam liBtitiam ; quum urbs cnstodem non ty- 
 rannum ; domus hospitem non expilatorem, recipisse videatur ? His autem iu 
 rebus jam te usus ipse profecto erudivit nequaquam satis esse, ipsum hasce 
 habere virtutis, sed esse circmnspicieuduni diligentur, ut in hac custodia pro- 
 vinciiB non te iinum, sed onmes miuistros imperii tui, sociis, et civibus, et 
 reipublicffi prtestare videare."
 
 33G LIFE OF CICEUO. 
 
 think that its guardian angel, not a cruel master had come 
 upon it ; when eacli house should feel that it entertained 
 not a robber, but a friend. Practice has made you perfect 
 in this. But it is not enough that you should exercise those 
 good offices yourself but that you should take care that 
 every one of those who come with you should seem to do 
 his best for the inhabitants of the Province, for the citizen 
 of Eome, and for the Piepublic." I wish that I could give 
 the letter entire, both in English that all readers might know 
 how grand are the precepts taught, and in Latin that they 
 who understand the language might appreciate the beauty 
 of the words ; but I do not dare to fill my pages at such 
 length. A little further on he gives his idea of the duty 
 of all those who have power over others, — even over the 
 dumb animals.^ " To me it seems that the duty of those 
 in authority over others consists in making those who are 
 under them as hapjiy as the nature of things will allow. 
 Every one knows that you have acted on this principle 
 since you first went to Asia." This I fear, must be taken 
 as flattery intended to gild the pill which conies afterwards. 
 "This is not only his duty who has under him allies and 
 citizens, but is also that of the man who has slaves under 
 liis control and even dumb cattle, — that he should study 
 tlie welfare of all over whom he stands in the position of 
 
 ^ Ibid., "Ac niihi quidem videntur hue omnia esse referenda iis qui 
 prfesunt uliis ; \\i ii, (pii cniut coniiii in impcrio .sint (jnaui beatissinii ; quod 
 tilii et esse iuitiiiiiissiinmii d ah initio fuisso, ut ]iriimnn Asiam attigisti, 
 coDstante fauia alqui' onniiuin siTiiioiic (•clcliraliiiii csL Kst autem non niodo 
 ejus, (jui sociis ct civibiis, .sed etiani ejus (pii seivis, ((iii niutis pccudilnis 
 pncsit, eoruni quibus pntsit commodis utilitatique servire."
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 337 
 
 master ! " Let the reader look into tliis and ask himself 
 what precepts of Christianity have ever surpassed it. 
 
 Then he points out that which he describes as the one 
 great difficulty in the career of a Eoman Provincial Governor.^ 
 The collectors of taxes, or "publicani" were of the equestrian 
 order. This business of farming the taxes had been their rich 
 privilege for at any rate more than a century, and, as Cicero 
 says further on in his letter, it was impossible not to know 
 with what hardship the Greek allies would be treated by 
 them when so many stories were current of their cruelty 
 even in Italy. Were Quintus to take a part against these 
 tax-gatherers he would make them hostile not only to the 
 Eepublic but to himself also, — and also to his brother 
 Marcus, for they were of the equestrian order and specially 
 connected with these " publicani " by family ties. He implies 
 as he goes on that it will be easier to teach the Greeks to be 
 submissive than the tax-gatherers to be moderate. After all 
 where would the Greeks of Asia be if they had no Roman 
 master to afford them protection ? He leaves the matter in 
 the hands of his brother with advice that he should do the 
 best he can on one side and on the other. If possible let 
 the greed of the " publicani " be restrained ; — but let the 
 ally be taught to understand that there may be usage in 
 the world worse even than Eoman taxation. It would be 
 hardly worth our while to allude to this part of Cicero's 
 advice did it not give an insight into the mode in which 
 Eome taxed her subject people. 
 
 ^ " Hsec est una in toto impiirio tuo difficultas." 
 VOL. I. Z
 
 338 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 After this he commences that portion of the letter for 
 the sake of which we cannot but believe that the whole 
 was written. " There is one thing," he says, " which I 
 will never cease to din into 3^our ears because I could 
 not endure to think that amidst the praises which are 
 lavished on you there should be any matter in which you 
 should be found wanting. All who come to us here," — 
 all who come to Eome from Asia that is,—" when they 
 tell us of your honesty and goodness of heart, tell us 
 also that you fail in temper. It is a vice which in the 
 daily affairs of private life betokens a weak and unmanly 
 spirit ; but tliere can be nothing so poor as the exhibition 
 of the littleness of nature in those who have risen to the 
 dignity of command." He will not, he goes on to say, 
 trouble his brother Avith repeating all that the wise men 
 have said on the subject of anger. He is sure that 
 Quintus is well acquainted with all that. But is it 
 not a pity, when all men say that nothing could be 
 pleasanter than Quintus Cicero when in a good humour, 
 the same Quintus should allow himself to be so provoked 
 that his want of kindly manners should be regretted by all 
 around him ? " I cannot assert," he goes on to say, " that 
 when nature has produced a certain condition of mind and 
 that y(;ars as they run on have strengthened it, a man can 
 change all that and pluck out from his very self the habits 
 that have grown within him ; yet I must tell you that if 
 you cannot eschew this evil altogether, if you cannot protect 
 yourself against the feeling of anger, yet you should prepare 
 your.'ieU" to be ready for it ^\•hen it comes, so that when
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 330 
 
 your very soul witliin you is hot witli it, your tongue at 
 any rate may be restrained." Then towards the end of 
 the letter there is a fraternal exhortation which is surely 
 ver}'- fine. " Since chance has thrown into my way the 
 duties of official life in Rome, and into yours that of adminis- 
 trating provincial government, if I, in the performance of 
 my work have been second to none, do you see that you 
 in yours may be equally efficient." How grand from an 
 elder brother to a younger ! " And remember this, — that 
 you and I have not to strive after some excellence still 
 unattained, but have to be on our Avatch to guard that 
 which has been already won. If I should find myself in 
 anything divided from you, I should desire no further 
 advance in life. Unless your deeds and your words go 
 on all fours with mine I should feel that I had achieved 
 nothing by all the w^ork and all the dangers which you 
 and I have encountered together." The brother at last was 
 found to be a poor envious, ill-conditioned creature, — in- 
 tellectually gifted and capable of borrowing something from 
 his brother's nobler nature ; but when struggles came, and 
 political feuds, and the need of looking about to see on 
 which side safety lay, ready to sacrifice his brother for the 
 sake of safety. But, up to this time, Marcus was prepared 
 to believe all good of Quintus ; and having made for himself 
 and for the family a great name, was desirous of sharing it 
 wdth his brother ; and, as we shall afterwards see, with his 
 brother's son, — and with his own. In this he failed. He 
 lived to know^ that he had failed as regarded his brother 
 and his nephew. It w^as not however, added to his misery 
 
 z 2
 
 340 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 to live to learn how little his son was to do to maintain 
 the honour of his family. 
 
 I find a note scribbled by myself some years ago in a 
 volume in which I had read this epistle, " Probably the 
 most beautiful letter ever written." Reading it again sub- 
 sequently I added another note, " The language altogethei" 
 different from that of his ordinary letters." I do not dissent 
 now either from the enthusiastic praise or the more careful 
 criticism. The letter was from the man's heart, true, 
 affectionate, and full of anxious brotherly duty ; but written 
 in studied language, befitting as Cicero thought, the need 
 and the dignity of the occasion. 
 
 The year following was that of Caesar's first Consulship 
 E c 59 "^^'^i^cli ^® \\q\^ in conjunction with Bibulus, — a man 
 setat 48. ^^.j-^^ ^^.^^ altogether opposed to him in thought, in 
 character, and in action. So hostile were these two great 
 officers to each other that the one attempted to undo what- 
 ever the other did. Bibulus was elected by bribery, on 
 behalf of the Senate, in order that he might be a counterpoise 
 to Coisar. But Cicsar now was not only Csesar. He was 
 Ctesar, Pompey, and Crassus united, with all their depen- 
 dants, all their clients, all their greedy hangers-on To 
 give this compact sometliing of the strength of family union 
 Pompey who was now nearly fifty years of age took in 
 marriage Cajsar's daughter Julia, who was a quarter of a 
 century his junior. But Ponq)cy was a man who could 
 endear himself to women and the opinion seems to be general 
 that had not .Julia died in childbirth the friendship between 
 tlie men would have been more lastinfj. But for Caesar's
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 341 
 
 purposes the duration of tliis year and tlie next was enougli. 
 Bibulus was a laugliing-stock, the mere shadow of a Consul, 
 when opposed to such an enemy. He tried to use all the 
 old forms of the Eepublic with the object of stopping Caesar 
 in his career ; but Caesar only ridiculed him ; and Pompey, 
 though we can imagine that he did not laugh much, did 
 as Csesar would have him. Bibulus was an Augur and 
 observed the heavens when political manoeuvres were going 
 on which he wished to stop. This was the old Roman 
 system for using religion as a drag upon progressive 
 movements. No work of state could be carried on if the 
 heavens were declared to be unpropitious ; and an Augur 
 could always say that the heavens were unpropitious if he 
 pleased. This was the recognised constitutional mode of 
 obstruction, and was quite in accord with the feelings of 
 the people. Pompey alone, or Crassus with him, would 
 certainly have submitted to an Augur, But Ca3sar was 
 above Augurs. AVhatever he chose to have carried, he 
 carried, with what approach he could to constitutional 
 usage, but with whatever departure from constitutional 
 usage he found to be necessary. 
 
 AVhat was the condition of the people of Pome at the 
 time it is difficult to learn from the conflicting statements 
 of historians. That Cicero had till lately been popular we 
 know. We are told that Bibulus was popular when he 
 ojjposed Caesar. Of personal popularity up to this time 
 I doubt whether Caesar had achieved much. Yet we learn 
 that when Bibulus with Cato and Lucullus endeavoured to 
 carry out their constitutional threats, they were dragged
 
 342 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 and knocked about and one of them nearly killed. Of the 
 illegality of Ciesar's proceedings there can be no doubt. 
 " The tribunician veto was interposed ; Ctesar contented 
 himself with disregarding it.^ " This is quoted from the 
 German historian, who intends to leave an impression that 
 Caesar was great and wise in all that he did ; and who tells 
 us also of the "obstinate weak creature Bibulus," and of 
 " the dogmatical fool Cato." I doubt whether there was 
 anything of true popular ferment, or that there was any 
 commotion except that which was made by the " roughs " 
 who had attached themselves for pay to Csesar or to Pompey, 
 or to Crassus, — or as it might be to Bibulus and the other 
 leaders. The violence did not amount to more than " nearly " 
 killing this man or the other. Some Iloman street fights were 
 no doubt more bloody,- — as for instance that in which seven 
 years afterwards Clodius was slaughtered by Milo, but tlie 
 blood was made to flow, not by the people, but by hired 
 bravos. The Eoman citizens of the day were, I think, 
 very quiescent. Neither pride nor misery stirred them 
 much. Cicsar, perceiving this, was aware that he might 
 disregard r>il)ulus and his auguries so long as he had a 
 band of ruffians around liiin suH'icient for the purposes of 
 the hour. It was in order that he might thus prevail that 
 the coalition had been made with Pompey and Crassus. 
 His colleague Bibulus, seeing how matters were going, 
 retired to his own house and there went through a farce 
 of Ciiii.siihii- ciiactnicnts. Cffisar carried all his purposes, 
 
 1 Moniiiison, Rook v. ca. 6.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 343 
 
 and the people were content to laugh, dividing him into 
 two personages, and talking of Julius and Caesar as the 
 two Consuls of the year. It was in this way that he pro- 
 cured to be allotted to him by the people his irregular 
 command in Gaul. lie was to be Proconsul not for one 
 year, with perhaps a prolongation for two or three, but 
 for an established period of five. He was to have the 
 great province of Cisalpine Gaul, — that is to say the whole 
 of what we now call Italy from the foot of the Alps down 
 to a line running from sea to sea just north of Morence. 
 To this Transalpine Gaul was afterwards added. The 
 province so named, possessed at the time by the Eomans, 
 was called " Narbonensis," a country comparatively insig- 
 nificant, running from the Alps to the Pyrenees along the 
 ^Mediterranean. The Gaul, or Gallia of wliich Coesar speaks 
 when in the opening words of his Commentary he tells us 
 that it was divided into three parts, was altogether beyond 
 the Eomau province which was assigned to him. Caesar 
 when he undertook his government can hardly have dreamed 
 of subjecting to Eoman rule the vast territories which were 
 then known as Gallia, beyond the frontiers of the Empire 
 and which we now call Prance. 
 
 But he caused himself to be supported by an enormous 
 army. There were stationed three legions on the Italian side 
 of the Alps, and one on the other. These were all to be 
 under his command for five years certain ; and amounted to 
 a force of not less than 30,000 men. "As no troops could 
 constitutionally be stationed in Italy proper the commander 
 of the legions of Northern Italy and Gaul," says ]\Iommsen,
 
 344 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 " dominated at the same time Italy and Rome for the next five 
 
 years; and he who was master for five years, was master for life."^ 
 
 Such was the condition of Rome during the second year 
 
 B c 59 °^ ^^^® Triumvirate in which Cassar was Consul and 
 
 setat 48. prepared the way for the powers which he afterwards 
 
 exercised. Cicero would not come to his call ; and therefore, 
 
 as we are told, Clodius w^as let loose upon him. As he 
 
 would not come to Caesar's call it was necessary tliat he 
 
 should be suppressed, and Clodius, notwithstanding all 
 
 constitutional difficulties, — nay, impossibilities, — was made 
 
 Tribune of the people. Things had now so far advanced 
 
 with a Ctiisar that a Cicero who would not come to his call 
 
 must be disposed of after some fashion. 
 
 Till we have thought much of it, often of it, till we have 
 looked thoroughly into it, we find ourselves temjDted to 
 marvel at Cicero's blindness. Surely a man so gifted must 
 have known enough of the state of Rome to have been 
 aware that there was no room left for one honest, patriotic, 
 constitutional politician ? Was it not plain to him that if, 
 "natus ad justitiam," he could not bring himself to serve 
 with tliose who were intent on discarding the Republic^ he 
 had better retire among his books, his busts, and his literary 
 luxuries, and leave the government of the country to those 
 Avho understood its people ? And we are the more prone 
 to say and to think all this because tlie man himself con- 
 tinually said it, and contiinially thought it. In one of the 
 letters written early in the year- to Atticus from his villa 
 
 ^ ]\Ii>Ililrisi-li, \()1. V. I'M. vi. 
 
 - Ad Att. lilj. ii. 7. " Attiuo luoe, sin velim exi.sliiiies, non mo abs te kolto
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 345 
 
 at Aiitium lie declares very plainly how it is with him ; and 
 this too in a letter written in good- humour, not in a despond- 
 ent frame of mind, in which he is able pleasantly to ridicule 
 his enemy Clbdius, who it seems had expressed a wish to 
 go OD an embassy to Tigranes, King of Armenia. " Do not 
 think," he says, " that I am complaining of all this, because 
 I myself am desirous of being engaged in public affairs. 
 Even while it was mine to sit at the helm I was tired of the 
 work ; but now, when I am in truth driven out of the ship, 
 when the rudder has, not been thrown down but seized out of 
 my hands, how should I take a pleasure in looking from the 
 shore at the wrecks which' these other pilots have made?" 
 But the study of human nature tells us, and all experience, 
 that men are unable to fathom their own desires and fail to 
 govern themselves by the wisdom which is at their fingers' 
 ends. The retiring Prime Minister cannot but hanker after 
 the seals and the ribands and the titles of office, even though 
 his soul be able to rise above considerations of emolument. 
 And there will creep into a man's mind an idea that thougli 
 reform of abases from other sources may be impossible, that 
 if he were there once more, the evil could at least be miti- 
 gated, — might possibly be cured. So it was during this 
 period of his life with Cicero. He did believe that political 
 justice exercised by himself, with such assistance as his 
 eloquence would obtain for it, might be efficacious for pre- 
 serving the Eepublic, in spite of Caesar, and of Pompey, and 
 of Crassus. He did not yet believe that these men would 
 
 rh irpaKTiKhu ([uaerere, quod gestiat animus ali(]uid agere in republica. Jam 
 pridem gubernare me tsedebat, etiam quum licebat."
 
 316 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 consent to such an outrage as his banishment. It must 
 have been incredible to him that Pompey should assent to 
 it. "When the blow came, it crushed him, — for tlie time. 
 But he retricked his beams and struggled on to the end, — as 
 we shall see if we follow his life to the close. 
 
 Such was the intended purpose of the degradation of 
 Clodius. This however was not at once declared. It was 
 said that Clodius as Tribune intended rather to oppose Csesar 
 than to assist him. He at any rate chose that Cicero should 
 so believe and sent Curio, a young man to whom Cicero was 
 attached, to visit the orator at his villa at Antium and to 
 declare these friendly purposes. According to the story told 
 by Cicero,^ Clodius was prepared to oppose the Triumvirate. 
 And the other young men of Eome, the jcunesse dor^e of which 
 both Curio and Clodius were members, were said to be equally 
 hostile to Csesar, Pompey and Crassus, whose doings in oppo- 
 sition to the constitution were already evident enough ; — so 
 that it suited Cicero to believe that the rising aristocracy of 
 Piome would oppose them. V>\\i the aristocracy of Eome, 
 whether old or young, cared for nothing luit its fish-ponds 
 and its amusements. 
 
 Cicero spent the earlier part of the year out of Eome, 
 among his various villas, — at Tusculanum, at Antium, and 
 at Formia:). The purport of all his letters at this period is 
 the same, — to complain of the condition of the Eepublic, 
 
 ' Ad Att. lib. ii. 8. " Scito Curionem adolescentem venisse ad me sal u- 
 tatuiii. Valde ejiLs .serino de Publio cum tuis litteris congruobat, ipse vero 
 iiiiraudum in iiioduiii lieges odisse siiporbos. Pera^que narrabat incensam 
 esse jiiventutcin, 1104110 furre luec po.sse." The " reges supeibos" were Cuisar 
 and Pompey.
 
 THE TnirMVinATE. 347 
 
 and especially of the treachery of his friend Ponipey. 
 Though there be much of despondency in his tone, there is 
 enough also of high spirit to make us feel that his literary 
 aspirations are not out of place, though mingled with his 
 political wailing. The time will soon come when his trust 
 even in literature will fail him for a while. 
 
 Early in the year he declares that he would like to accept 
 a mission to Egypt, offered to him by Csesar and Pompey, 
 partly in order that he might for a while be quit of Rome, 
 and partly that Eomans might feel how ill they could do 
 without him. He then uses for the first time, as far as I 
 am aware, a line from the Iliad,^ which is repeated by him 
 again and again, in part or 'in whole, to signify the restraint 
 which is placed on him, by his own high character among 
 his fellow-citizens. " I would go to Egypt on this pleasant 
 excursion, but that I fear what the men of Troy, and the Trojan 
 women, with their wide-sweeping robes, would say of me." 
 And what, — he asks, — would the men of our party, " the 
 optimates " say, and what would Cato say, whose opinion is 
 more to me than that of them all ? And how would 
 history tell the story in future ages ? But he would like 
 to go to Egypt, and he will wait and see. Then after various 
 questions to Atticus, comes that great one as to the augurship 
 of which so much has been made by Cicero's enemies, — 
 "quo quidem uno ego ab istis capi possim." A few lines 
 
 ^ Ad Att. lib. ii. 5. AtSeojuai TpcSas koX TpcDciSas i\Ke<Tnreir\ovs.—ll. vi, 
 442. " I fear what Mrs. Gruudy would say of me " is Mr. Tyrrell's homely 
 version. Cicero's mind soared I think higher when he brought the words of 
 Hector to his service than does the ordinary reference to our old familiar 
 critic.
 
 348 LIFE OF ClCEllO. 
 
 above lie had been speaking of another lure, that of the 
 mission to Egypt. He discusses that with his friend, and 
 then goes on in his half joking phrase, " But this would 
 have been the real thing to catch me." Nothing caught 
 him. He was steadfast all through, accepting no offer of 
 place from the conspirators by which his integrity or his 
 honour could be soiled. That it was so was well known 
 to history in the time of Quintilian, whose testimony as 
 to the "repudiatus vigintiviratus," — his refusal of a place 
 among the twenty commissioners, — has been already quoted.^ 
 And yet biographers have written of him as of one willing to 
 sell his honour, his opinions, and the commonwealth, for a 
 " pitiful bribe," — not that he did do so, not that he attempted 
 to do it, but because in a half-joking letter to the friend 
 of his bosom he tells his friend which way his tastes lay ! ^ 
 
 He had been thinking of writing a book on geography, 
 and consulted Atticus on the subject; but in one of his 
 letters he tells his friend that he had abandoned the idea. 
 The subject was too dull, and if he took one side in a 
 dispute that was existing, he would be sure to fall under 
 the lash of the critics on the other. He is enjoying his 
 leisure at Antium, and thinks it a much better place than 
 Rome. If the weather will not let him catch fish, at any 
 rate he can count the waves. In all these letters Cicero 
 asks questions about his money and his private affairs, — 
 ;il)out the mending of a wall perhaps, and adds something 
 aliMut his wife or daughter or son. He is going from 
 
 ' tjiiiiit. xii. ]. - Enc. BiitiUiiiica on Cicero.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 349 
 
 Antium to Formia?, but must return to Autiiim by a 
 certain date because TuUia wants to see the games. 
 
 Then again he alludes to Clodius. Pompey had made 
 a compact with Clodius, — so at least Cicero had heard, — 
 that he, Clodius, if elected for the Tribunate, would do 
 nothing to injure Cicero, The assurance of such a compact 
 had no doubt been spread about, for the quieting of Cicero ; 
 but no such compact had been intended to be kept, unless 
 Cicero would be amenable, would take some of the good 
 things offered to him, — or at any rate, hold his peace. But 
 Cicero affects to hope that no such agreement may be kept. 
 He is always nicknaming Pompey, — who during his Eastern 
 campaign had taken Jerusalem, and who now parodies the 
 Africanus, the Asiaticus, and the Macedonicus of the Scipios 
 and Metelluses. " If that Hierosolymarian candidate for popu- 
 larity does not keep his word with me, I shall be delighted. 
 If that be his return for my speeches on his behalf," — the 
 Anteponatur omnibus Pompeius for instance, — ''I will play 
 him such a turn of another kind that he shall remember it." ^ 
 
 He begins to know what the " Triumvirate " is doing 
 with the Eepublic, but has not yet brought himself to 
 suspect the blow that is to fall on himself. "They are 
 going along very gaily," he says, " and do not make as 
 much noise as one would have expected."^ If Cato had 
 been more on the alert, things would not have gone so 
 
 1 Ad Att. lib. ii. 9. 
 
 ^ Ibid. "Festive, mihi crede, ct minore sonitn, (|uam putarain, orbis hie 
 in republica est conversus." "Orbis hie," this round body of three, is the 
 Triumvirate.
 
 350 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 quickly, Liit tlie dishonesty of others who have allowed 
 all the laws to be ignored, has been worse than Cato. 
 If w^e used to feel that the Senate took too much on 
 itself, what shall we say when that power has been 
 transferred, not to the people, but to three utterly un- 
 scrupulous men ? " They can make whom they will Consuls, 
 whom they will Tribunes — so that they may hide the very 
 goitre of A'^atinius under a priest's robe." For himself 
 Cicero says, he will be contented to remain with his books 
 — if only Clodius will allow him. If not he will defend 
 himself.^ As for his country, he has done more for his 
 country than has even been desired of him ; and he thinks 
 it to be better to leave the helm in the hands of pilots 
 however incompetent, than, himself to steer, when passengers 
 are so thankless. Then we find that he robs poor Tullia 
 of her promised pleasure at the games because it will be 
 beneath his dignity to appear at them. He is always very 
 anxious for his friend's letters, depending on them for news 
 and for amusement. " ]\Iy messenger will return at once," 
 he says in one. " Therefore though you are coming yourself 
 very soon, send me a heavy letter, full, not only of news, 
 but of your own ideas," ^ In another, " Cicero the little 
 sends greeting," he says in Greek, " to Titus the Athenian," — 
 that is to Titus Pomponius Atticus. The Greek letters 
 
 ^ Wc cannot but think of the threat Horace made ; Sat. lib. ii. 1 : — 
 
 "At ille 
 Qni me comraorit, melius non tan^^ore ! claino, 
 Flcbit, ct insigiiis tota cantabitur urbe." 
 
 * Ad Alt. lib. ii. 11. " JJa iion'lero.sain a]i(|iiaiii cpi^tolani."
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 351 
 
 were probably traced by the child at his father's knee as 
 Cicero held the pen or the stylus. In another letter he 
 declares that there, at Formiaj, Pompey's name of Magnus 
 is no more esteemed than that of Dives belonging to 
 Crassus. In the next he calls Pompey Sampsiceramus. 
 We learn from Josephus that there was a lady afterwards 
 in the East in the time of Vitellius, who was daughter of 
 Sampsigeramus, King of the Emesi It might probably be a 
 royal family name.' In choosing the absurd title he is again 
 laughing at his party leader. Pompey had probably boasted 
 of his doings with the Sampsiceramus of the day and the 
 priests of Jerusalem. " When this Sampsiceramus of ours finds 
 how ill he is spoken of, he will rush headlong into revolution." 
 He complains that he can do nothing at Formiae because 
 of the visitors. No English poet was ever so interviewed 
 by American admirers ! They came at all hours, in numbers 
 sufficient to fill a temple, — let alone a gentleman's house. 
 How can he write anything requiring leisure in such a 
 condition as this ? Nevertheless he will attempt something. 
 He goes on criticising all that is done in Home, — especially 
 what is done by Pompey, who no doubt was vacillating 
 sadly between Csesar to whom he was bound, and Bibulus, 
 the other Consul to whom he ought to have been bound, as 
 being naturally on the aristocratic side,. He cannot for a 
 moment keep his pen from j)wblic matters ; — nor, on the 
 other hand can he refrain from declaring that he will 
 apply himself wholly, undividedly, to his literature. 
 
 ^ Josephus, lib. xviii. ca. 5.
 
 352 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 " Therefore, oh my Titus, let me settle down to these glorious 
 occupations, and return to that, which, if I had been wise 
 I never should have left," A day or two afterwards, 
 writing from the same place, he asks what Arabarches is 
 saying of him. Arabarches is another name for Pompey ; — 
 this Arabian chieftain. 
 
 In the early summer of this year Cicero returned to 
 Eome, probably in time to see Atticus, who was then 
 about to leave the city for his estates in Epirus. We 
 have a letter written by him to his friend on the journey, 
 telling us that Caesar had made him two distinct offers, 
 evidently with the view of getting rid of him, — but in 
 such a manner as would be gratifying to Cicero himself.^ 
 Caisar asks him to go with him to Gaul as his lieutenant, 
 or, if that will not suit him, to accept a " free legation for 
 the sake of paying a vow." This latter was a kind of job 
 by which Eomau Senators got themselves sent forth on 
 their private travels with all the appanages of a Senator 
 travelling on public business. We have his argument as 
 to both. Elsewhere he objects to a "Libera legatio " as being 
 a job.^ Here he only points out that though it enforce 
 his absence from Eome at a time disagreeable to him, — ^just 
 wlicn his brother Quintus would return, — it would not 
 give him the protection whicli he needs. Thougli he were 
 
 ^ Ad Att, lib. ii. 16. 
 
 - All Atl. lil), ii. 18. "A Cicsare valde liberaliter invitor in logati- 
 oncaii iliaiii, silii nt siiii Irgatus ; — ati[uc etiam libera legalio voti causa 
 dalur." 
 
 •' Di; Lc;,Mbu.s, lil). iii. ca. viii. "Jam illud npertuia prefecto est nihil esse 
 turpius, ijuam <piunquam logari nisi rcpublica causa."
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 353 
 
 travelling about the world as a Senator on some pretended 
 embassy, he would still be open to the attacks of Clodius. He 
 would necessarily be absent, or he would not be in enjoyment 
 of his privilege ; — but by his very absence he would find his 
 position weakened. Whereas, as Caesar's appointed lieu- 
 tenant, he need not leave the city at once, and in that 
 position he would be quite safe against all that Clodius 
 or other enemies could do to him. ^ No indictment could 
 be made against a Eoman wdiile he was in the employment 
 of the State. It must be remembered too on judging of 
 these overtures that both the one and the other, — and in- 
 deed all the offers then made to him, — were deemed to 
 be highly honourable as Eome then existed. "The free 
 legation," — the "Libera legatio voti causa," — had no reference 
 to parties. It was a job no doubt, and, in the hands of 
 the ordinary lloman aristocrat, likely to be very onerous to 
 the provincials among wliom the privileged Senator might 
 travel ; but it entailed no party adhesion. In this case 
 it was intended only to guarantee the absence of a man 
 who might be troublesome in Eome. The other was the 
 offer of genuine work in which politics were not at all 
 concerned. Such a position was accepted by Quintu.s, our 
 Cicero's brother, and in performance of the duties which 
 fell to him he incurred terrible danger, having been nearly 
 destroyed by the Gauls in his winter quarters among the 
 Nervii. Labienus, who was Ctesar's right-hand man in 
 Gaul, was of the same politics as Cicero, — so much so 
 
 ^ It may be seen from this how anxious Ctesar was to secure his silence, 
 and yet how determined not to screen him unless he could secure his silence. 
 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 354 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 that when Caesar rebelled against the Eepublic Labienus, 
 true to the Eepublic, would no longer fight on Caesar's side. 
 It was open to Cicero, without disloyalty, to accept the 
 offer made to him. But with an insight into what was 
 coming of which he himself was hardly conscious, he could 
 not bring himself to accept offers which in themselves were 
 alluring but which would seem in future times to have 
 implied on his part an assent to the breaking up of the 
 Republic. hlhtofxai Tpwa? /cat Tp(vaSa<i iXK€at7re7rXov<i. 
 What will be said of me in history by my citizens if I now 
 do simply that which may best suit my own happiness ? Had 
 he done so Pliny and the others would not have spoken of 
 him as they have spoken, and it would not have been worth 
 the while of modern lovers of Cffisarism to write books 
 against the one patriot of his age. 
 
 During the remainder of this year, B.C. 59, Cicero was 
 at Eome and seems gradually to have become aware that 
 a personal attack was to be made upon him. At the close 
 of a long and remarkable letter written to his brother Quintus 
 in November, he explains the state of his own mind, showing 
 us, who have now before us the future which was hidden 
 from him, how greatly mistaken he was as to the results 
 which were to be expected. He had been telling his brother 
 how nearly Cato had been murdered for calling Pompey, 
 in pulilic, a Dictator. Tlien he goes on to describe his 
 own condition.^ "You may see from this what is the 
 state of tlie Eepublic. As far as I am concerned it seems 
 
 ^ Ad Quintum, lib. i. 2.
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 355 
 
 that friends will not be wanting to defend me. They offer 
 themselves in a wonderful way, and promise assistance. 
 I feel great hope and still greater spirit ; — hope which tells 
 me that we shall be victors in the struggle ; spirit which 
 bids me fear no casualty in the present state of public affairs.^ 
 But the matter stands in this way. If he," — that is Clodius, 
 — " should indict me in Court, all Italy would come to my 
 defence so that I should be acquitted with honour. Should 
 he attack me with open violence, I should have, I think, 
 not only my own party but the world at large to stand 
 by me. All men promise me their friends, their clients, 
 their freed men, their slaves, and even their money. Our 
 old body of aristocrats," — Cato, Bibulus, and the makers of 
 fishponds generally, — "are wonderfully warm in my cause. 
 If any of these have heretofore been remiss, now they join 
 our party from sheer hatred of these Kings," — the Triumvirs. 
 " Pompey promises everything, and so does Csesar, — whom 
 I only trust so far as I can see them." Even the Triumvirs 
 promise him that he will be safe ; but his belief in 
 Pompey's honesty is all but gone. " The coming Tribunes 
 are my friends. The Consuls of next year promise well." 
 He was wofuUy mistaken. " We have excellent Prsetors, 
 citizens alive to their duty. Domitius, Nigidius, Memmius, 
 and Lentulus are specially trustworthy. The others are good 
 men. You may therefore pluck up your courage and be 
 confident." From this we perceive that he had already 
 formed the idea that he might perhaps be required to fight 
 
 ^ Of this last sentence I have taken a translation given by Mr. Tyrrell, •who 
 has introduced a special reading of the original which the sense seems to j ustify. 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 for his position as a Eoman citizen. And it seems also 
 that he understood the cause of the coming conflict. The 
 intention was that he should be driven out of Kome by 
 personal enmity. Nothing is said in any of these letters 
 of the excuse to be used, though he knew well what that 
 excuse was to be. He was to be charged by the patrician 
 Tribune with having put Eoman citizens to death in oppo- 
 sition to the law. But there arises at this time no ques- 
 tion whether he had or had not been justified in what he, 
 as Consul, had done to Lentulus and the others. Would 
 Clodius be able to rouse a mob against him ? And, if so, 
 would Csesar assist Clodius, — or would Pompey, — who still 
 loomed to his eyes as the larger of the two men ? He 
 had ever been the friend of Pompey, and Pompey had 
 promised him all manner of assistance. But he knew 
 already that Pompey would turn upon him. That Eome 
 should turn upon him, — Eome which he had preserved 
 from the torches of Catiline's conspirators, — that he could 
 not bring himself to believe ! 
 
 We must not pass over this long letter to Quintus without 
 observing that through it all the evil condition of the younger 
 brother's mind becomes apparent. The severity of his ad- 
 ministration had given offence. His punishments had been 
 cruel. His letters had been rash, and his language violent. 
 In short we gather from the brother's testimony that 
 <^,>nintus Cicero was very ill (iLtcd to be the civil governor 
 (if a ])rovince. 
 
 The only work Avliicli wo liavo fi'om Cicero belonging to 
 this year, — except liis letters, — is the speech, or part of
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE. 357 
 
 the speech, he made for Lucius Valerius Flaccus. Flaccus 
 had been Prsetor when Cicero was Consul, and had done 
 good service in the eyes of his superior officers in the matter 
 of the Catiline conspiracy. He had then goiie to Asia as 
 Governor, and, after the Eoman manner had fleeced the 
 Province. That this was so there is no doubt. After his 
 return he was accused, was defended by Cicero, and was 
 acquitted. Macrobius tells us that Cicero by the happiness 
 of a bon-mot brought the accused off safely, though he 
 was manifestly guilty. He adds also that Cicero took care 
 not to allow the joke to appear in the published edition 
 of his speech.^ There are parts of the speech which have 
 been preserved and are sufficiently amusing even to us. 
 He is very hard upon the Greeks of Asia, the class from 
 which the witnesses against Flaccus were taken. We know 
 here in England that a spaniel, a wife, and a walnut-tree 
 may be beaten with advantage. Cicero says that in Asia 
 there is a proverb that a Phrygian may be improved in 
 the same way. " Fiat experimentum in corpore vili." It 
 is declared through Asia that you should take a Carian 
 for your experiment. The " last of the Mysians," is the 
 well known Asiatic term for the lowest type of humanity. 
 Look through all the comedies ; — you will find the leading 
 slave is a Lydian. Then he turns to these poor Asiatics 
 and asks them whether any one can be expected to think 
 
 ^ Macrobius, Saturnalia, lib. ii. ca. i. We are told that Cicero had been 
 called the consular buflbon. " And I," says Macrobius, " if it would not be 
 too long, could relate how by his jokes he has brought off the most guilty 
 criminals." Then he tells the story of Luoius Flaccus.
 
 358 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 well of them, when such is their own testimony of them- 
 selves ! He attacks the Jew and speaks of the Jewish re- 
 ligion as a superstition worthy in itself of no consideration. 
 Pompey had spared the gold in the temple of Jerusalem, 
 because he thought it wise to respect the religious prejudices 
 of the people. But the gods themselves had shown by 
 subjecting the Jews to the Eomans how little the gods had 
 regarded these idolatrous worshippers ! Such were tlie 
 arguments used; and they prevailed with the judges, — 
 or jury, we should rather call them, — to whom they were 
 addressed.
 
 CHAPTER Xil. 
 
 Ills EXILE. 
 
 We now come to that period of Cicero's life in which, 
 by common consent of all who have hitherto written of 
 him he is supposed to have shown himself as least worthy 
 of his high name. Middleton, who certainly loved his 
 hero's memory and was always anxious to do him justice, 
 condemns him. " It cannot be denied that in this calamity 
 of his exile he did not behave himself with that firmness 
 which might reasonably be expected from one who had 
 borne so glorious a part in the Eepublic." Morabin, the 
 French biographer, speaks of the wailings of his grief, of 
 its injustice and its follies. " Ciceron etait trop plein de 
 son malheur pour donner entree k de nouvelles esp^rances," 
 he says. " II avait supporte ce malheur avec peu de 
 courage," says another Frenchman, M. Du Eozoir, in 
 introducing us to the speeches which Cicero made on 
 his return. Dean Merivale declares that " he marred 
 the grace of the concession in the eyes of posterity," — 
 alluding to the concession made to popular feeling by his 
 voluntaiy departure from Eome, as will hereafter be de- 
 scribed, — " by the unmanly lamentations with which he
 
 360 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 accompanied it." Mommsen, with a want of insight into 
 character wonderful in an author who has so closely studied 
 the history of the period, speaks of his exile as a punish- 
 ment inflicted on a "man notoriously timid and belonging 
 to the class of political weathercocks." " We now come," 
 says Mr. Eorsyth, " to the most melancholy period of Cicero's 
 life, melancholy not so much from its nature and the extent 
 of the misfortunes which overtook him, as from the abject 
 prostration of mind into which he was thrown." j\Ir. Froude, 
 as might be expected, uses language stronger than that of 
 others and tells us that "he retired to Macedonia to pour 
 out his sorrows and his resentments in lamentations un- 
 worthy of a woman." We have to admit that modern 
 historians and biographers have been united in accusing 
 Cicero of want of manliness during his exile. I propose, 
 — not indeed to wash the blackamoor white, — but to show, 
 if I can, that he was as white as others might be expected 
 to have been in similar circumstances. 
 
 We are, I think, somewhat proud of the courage shown 
 by public men of our country Avho have suffered either 
 justly or iiijustly under the laws. Our annals are bloody 
 and many such have had to meet their death. They have 
 done so generally with becoming manliness. Even though 
 they may have been rebels against the powers of the day, 
 their memories have been made green because they have 
 fallen like brave men. Sir Thomas More, who was no 
 rebel, died well .'iiid crowned a good life by his manner 
 of leaving it. I'liomas Cromwell submitted to the axe 
 without a co]ni)l;iint. Lady Jane Crey, when on the
 
 HIS EXILE. 361 
 
 scaffold, yielded notliing in manliness to the others. Cran- 
 mer and the martyr bishops perished nobly. The Earl of 
 Essex, and Ealeigh, and Strafford, and Strafford's master 
 showed no fear when the fatal moment came. In reading 
 the fate of each we sympathise with the victim because 
 of a certain dignity at the moment of death. But there 
 is, I think, no crisis of life in which it is so easy for a 
 man to carry himself honourably as that in wliich lie has 
 to leave it. " Venit summa dies et ineluetabile tempus." 
 No doubting now can be of avail. No moment is left for 
 the display of conduct beyond this, which requires only 
 decorum and a free use of the pulses to become in some 
 degree glorious. The wretch from the lowest dregs of 
 the people can achieve it with a halter round his neck. 
 Cicero had that moment also to face ; and, when it came, 
 he was as brave as the best Englishmen of them all. But 
 of those I have named no one had an Atticus to Avhom 
 it had been the privilege of his life to open his very soul 
 in language so charming as to make it worth posterity's 
 while to read it, to study it, to sift it, and to criticise it. 
 Wolsey made many plaints in his misery, but they have 
 reached us in such forms of grace that they do not disparage 
 him ; — but then he too had no Atticus. Shaftesbury and 
 Bolingbroke were dismissed ministers and doomed to live 
 in exile, the latter for many years, and felt no doubt 
 strongly their removal from the glare of public life to 
 obscurity. We hear no complaint from them which can 
 justify some future critic in saying that their wails were 
 unworthy of a woman. But neither of them were capable
 
 362 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 of telling an Atticus the thoughts of his mind as they 
 rose. What other public man ever had an Atticus to 
 whom in the sorrows which the ingratitude of friends had 
 brought upon him he could disclose every throb of his heart ? 
 I think that we are often at a loss, in our efforts at 
 appreciation of character and in the expressions of our 
 opinion respecting it, to realise the meaning of courage 
 and manliness. That sententious Swedish Queen, one of 
 wliose foolish maxims I have quoted, has said that Cicero 
 though a coward was capable of great actions, because she 
 did not know what a coward was. To doubt, to tremble 
 with anxiety, to vacillate hither and thither between this 
 course and the other as to which may be the better, to 
 complain within one's own breast that this or that thing 
 has been an injustice, to hesitate within oneself not quite 
 knowing which way honour may require us to go, to be 
 indignant even at fancied wrongs, to rise in wrath against 
 another and then, before the hour has passed, to turn that 
 wrath against oneself, — that is not to be a coward. To 
 know wliat duty requires, and then to be deterred by fear 
 of results, — that is to be a coward. But the man of many 
 scruples may be the greatest hero of them all. Let the 
 law of things be declared clearlj^, so that the doubting mind 
 shall no longer doubt, so that scruples may be laid at rest, 
 so that the sense of justice may be satisfied, and he of whom 
 I speak shall Ije ready to meet tlie world in arms against 
 liiiii. Tlnire are men, very useful in their way, who shall 
 never <l(jid;t at all, — but shall be ready, as the bull is ready, 
 to encounter any obstacles that there may be before them.
 
 HIS EXILE. 363 
 
 I will not say but that for the coarse purposes of the world, 
 they may not be the most efficacious. But I will not admit 
 that they are therefore the bravest. The bull who has no 
 imagination to tell him what the obstacle may do to him, 
 is not brave. He is brave who, fully understanding the 
 potentiality of the obstacle, shall, for a sufficient purpose, 
 move against it. 
 
 This Cicero always did. He braved the murderous anger 
 of Sulla when as a young man he thought it well to stop 
 the greed of Sulla's minions. He trusted himself amidst the 
 dangers prepared for him when it was necessary that with 
 extraordinary speed he should get together the evidence 
 needed for the prosecution of Verres. He was firm against 
 all that Catiline attempted for his destruction, and had 
 courage enough for the responsibility when he thought it 
 expedient to doom the friends of Catiline to death. In 
 defending Milo, whether the cause were good or bad, he 
 did not blench.^ He joined the Eepublican army in Macedonia 
 though he distrusted Pompey and his companions. When 
 he thought that there was a hope for the Eepublic, he 
 sprang at Antony with all the courage of a tigress protecting 
 her young. And w^hen all had failed and was rotten around 
 him, when the Eepublic had so fallen that he knew it to 
 be gone, — then he was able to give his neck to the 
 swordsman with all the apparent indifference of life which 
 was displayed by those countrymen of our own whom I 
 have named. 
 
 ^ See the evidence of Asconius on tliis point, — as to which Cicero's conduct 
 has been much mistaken. We shall come to Milo's trial before long.
 
 364 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 But why did he write so piteously when he was driven 
 into exile ? Why at any rate did he turn upon his chosen 
 friend and scold him, as though that friend had not done 
 enough for friendship? Why did he talk of suicide as 
 though by that he might find the easiest way of escape ? 
 
 I hold it to be natural that a man should wail to himself 
 under a sense, not simply of misfortune, but of misfortune 
 coming to him from the injustice of others, and specially 
 from the ingratitude of friends. Afflictions which come 
 to us from natural causes, such as sickness and physical 
 pain, or from some chance such as the loss of our money 
 by the breaking of a bank, an heroic man will bear without 
 even inward complainings. But a sense of wrong done 
 to him by friends will stir him, not by the misery inflicted 
 but because of the injustice. And that which he says to 
 himself he will say to his wife, if his wife be to him a 
 second self, or to his friend if he have one so dear to him. 
 The testimony by which the writers I have named have 
 been led to treat Cicero so severely has been found in 
 the letters which he wrote during his exile. And of these 
 letters, all but one, were addressed either to Atticus or to 
 liis wife or to his brother.^ Twenty-seven of them were 
 to Atticus. Before he accepted a voluntary exile, as the 
 best solution of the difficulty in which he was placed, — 
 for it was voluntary at flrst as will be seen, — he applied 
 to the Consul Biso for aid, and for the same purpose visited 
 Pompey. So far he was a suppliant, but this he did in 
 
 ' Tlio stati'iiiont is made liy Jlr. Tyrrell in jii.s biographical introduction 
 to the, Kpiatlcs.
 
 HIS EXILE. 365 
 
 conformity with Eoman usage. In asking favour of a 
 man in power there was held to be no disgrace, even tliough 
 the favour asked were one improper to be granted, — which 
 was not the case with Cicero. And he went about the 
 Forum in mourning, — " sordidatus," — as was the custom 
 with men on their trial We cannot doubt that in each 
 of these cases he acted with the advice of his friends. 
 His conduct and his words after his return from exile betray 
 exaltation rather than despondency. 
 
 It is from the letters which he wrote to Atticus that he 
 has been judged, — from words boiling with indignation that 
 such a one as he should have been surrendered by the Eome 
 that he had saved, by those friends to whom he had been 
 so true, to be trampled on by such a one as Clodius ! When 
 a man has written words intended for the public ear it is 
 fair that he should bear the brunt of them, be it what it may. 
 He has intended them for public effect, and if they are used 
 against him he should not complain. But here the secret 
 murmurings of the man's soul were sent forth to his choicest 
 friend with no idea that from them would he be judged 
 by the " historians to come in 600 years " ' — of whose good 
 word he thought so much. " Quid vero histori^e de nobis 
 ad annos DC. prasdicarint ! " he says to Atticus. How is 
 it that from them, after 2000 years, the Merivales Momm- 
 sens and Froudes condemn their great brother in letters 
 whose lightest utterances have been found worthy of so 
 long a life ! Is there not an injustice in falling upon a 
 man's private words, words when written intended only 
 
 ^ The 600 years, or anni DC, is used to signify unlimited futurity.
 
 366 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 for privacy, and making them the basis of an accusation 
 in which an illustrious man shall be arraigned for ever 
 as a coward ? It is said that he was unjust even to Atticus, 
 accusing even Atticus of lukewarmness. What if he did 
 so, — for an hour ? Is that an affair of ours ? Did Atticus 
 quarrel with him ? Let any reader of these words who 
 has lived long enough to have an old friend ask himself 
 whether there has never been a moment of anger in his 
 heart, — of anger of which he has soon learnt to recognise 
 the injustice ? He may not have written his anger, but then 
 perhaps he has not had the too ready pen of a Cicero. 
 Let those who rebuke the unmanliness of Cicero's wailings 
 remember what were his sufferings. The story has yet 
 to be told, but I may in rough words describe their nature. 
 Everything was to be taken from him ; — all that he had ; 
 — his houses, his books, his pleasant gardens, his busts 
 and pictures, his wide retinue of slaves and possessions 
 lordly as are those of our Dukes and Earls, He was driven 
 out from Italy, and so driven that no place of delight could 
 be open to him. Sicily where he had friends, Athens where 
 he might have lived, were closed against him. He had to 
 look where to live and did live, for a while on money borrowed 
 from his friends. All the cherished occupations of his life 
 were over for him, the law courts, the forum, the Senate, 
 and the crowded meetings of Homan citizens hanging on 
 his words. The circumstances of his exile separated him 
 from his wife and children, so that he was alone. All this 
 was assured to him for life, — as far as Eoman law could 
 assure it. Let us think of the condition of some "rcat
 
 ins EXILE. 367 
 
 and serviceable Englishman in similar circumstances. Let 
 us suppose that Sir Robert Peel had been impeached, and 
 forced by some iniquitous sentence to live beyond the 
 pale of civilisation ; that the houses at Whitehall Gardens, 
 and at Drayton had been confiscated, dismantled, and levelled 
 to the ground, and his rents and revenues made over to 
 his enemies ; that everything should have been done to 
 destroy him by the country he had served, — except the 
 act of taking away that life which would thus have been 
 made a burden to him ! Would not his case have been 
 more piteous, a source of more righteous indignation, than 
 that even of the Mores or Ealeighs ? He suffered under 
 invectives in the House of Commons, and we sympathised 
 with him, — but if some Clodius of the day could have 
 done this to him, should we have thought the worse of 
 him had he opened his wounds to his wife or to his 
 brother, or to his friend of friends? 
 
 Had Cicero put an end to his life in his exile, as he thouglit 
 of doing, he would have been a second Cato to admiring 
 posterity, and some Lucan, with rolling verses, would have 
 told us narratives of his valour. The judges of to-day look 
 back to his half-formed purposes in this direction as being 
 an added evidence of the weakness of the man ; but had he 
 let himself blood and have perished in his bath he would 
 have been thought to have escaped from life as honourably 
 as did Junius Brutus. It is because he dared to live on 
 that we are taught to think so little of him, — because he 
 had antedated Christianity so far as to feel when the moment 
 came that such an escape was in truth unmanly. He
 
 368 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 doubted ; and when the deed had not been done he expressed 
 regret that he had allowed liimself to live. But he did not 
 do it, — as Cato would have done or Brutus. 
 
 It may be as well here to combat, in as few words as 
 possible, the assertions which have been made that Cicero, 
 having begun life as a democrat, discarded his colours as 
 soon as he had received from the people those honours 
 for which he had sought popularity. They who have said 
 so have taken their idea from the fact that in much of 
 his early forensic work he spoke against the aristocratic 
 party. He attacked Sulla, through his favourite Chrysogonus, 
 in his defence of Koscius Amerinus. He afterwards defended 
 a woman of Arretium in the spirit of antagonism to Sulla. 
 His accusation of Verres was made on the same side in 
 politics, and was carried on in opposition to Hortensius 
 and the oligarchs. He defended the Tribune Caius 
 Cornelius. Then when he became Consul, he devoted 
 himself to the destruction of Catiline who was joined with 
 many, perhaps with Ca3sar's sympathy, in the conspiracy for 
 tlie overthrow of the Eepublic. Csesar soon became the leader 
 of the democracy, — became rather what Mommsen describes 
 as " Democracy " itself — and as Cicero had defended the 
 Senate from Catiline and had refused to attach himself 
 to Ca;sar, he is supposed to have turned from the political 
 ideas of his yoiith and to have become a Conservative, when 
 Conservative ideas suited his ambition. 
 
 1 will not accept the excuse put forward on his behalf 
 that the early speeches were made on the side of democracy 
 because the exigencies of the occasion required him to
 
 HIS EXILE. 369 
 
 so devote Lis energies as an advocate. jSTo doubt lie was 
 an advocate as are our barristers of to-day, and, as an 
 advocate supported this side or tliat. But we shall be 
 wrong if we suppose that the Eoman ' patronus ' supplied 
 his services under such inducements. With us a man goes 
 into the profession of the law with the intention of making 
 money, and takes the cases right and left, — unless there 
 be special circumstances which may debar him from 
 doing so with honour. It is a point of etiquette with him 
 to give his assistance, in turn, as he may be called on; — 
 so much so, that leading men are not unfrequently employed 
 on one side simply that they may not be employed on 
 the other side. It should not be urged on the part of 
 Cicero that so actuated he defended Amerinus, a case in 
 which he took part against the aristocrats, or defended 
 Publius Sulla in doing which he appeared on the side of 
 the aristocracy. Such a defence of his conduct would be 
 misleading and might be confuted. It would be confuted 
 by those who suppose him to have been " notoriously a 
 political trimmer " ^ as Mommsen has called him, or a 
 " deserter " as he was described by Dio Cassius and by 
 the Pseudo-Sallust,- by showing that in fact he took up 
 causes under the influence of strong personal motives such 
 as rarely govern an English barrister. These motives were 
 
 ^ Mommsen 's History, Book v. ca. v. 
 
 - " AuToyuaAoy oii'o^a^eTo," is the phrase of Dio Cassius. " Levissume 
 transfuga " is the translation made by the author of the " Declamatio in 
 Ciceronem." If I might venture on a sLmg phrase I should say that 
 " avT6iJ.a\os " was a man who " went off on his own hook." But no man was 
 ever more loyal as a x^olitical adherent than Cicei'o. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 370 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 in many cases partly political ; but they operated in such 
 a manner as to give no guide to his political views. In 
 defending Sulla's nephew he was moved, as far as we know, 
 solely by private motives. In defending Amerinus he may 
 be said to have attacked Sulla. His object was to stamp 
 out the still burning embers of Sulla's cruelty. But not 
 the less was he wedded to Sulla's general views as to 
 the restoration of the authority of the Senate. In his early 
 speeches, especially in that spoken against Verres, he 
 denounces the corruption of the senatorial judges. But at 
 that very period of his life he again and again expresses 
 his own belief in the glory and majesty of the Senate. In 
 accusing Verres he accused the general corruption of Rome's 
 provincial governors, and as they were always past-Consuls 
 or past-Prsetors and had been the elite of the aristocracy, 
 he may be said so far to have taken the part of a democrat ; 
 but he had done so only so far as he had found himself 
 bound by a sense of duty to put a stop to corruption. The 
 venality of the judges and the rapacity of governors had 
 been fit objects for his eloquence. But I deny that he can be 
 fairly charged with having tampered with democracy because 
 he had thus used his eloquence on behalf of the people. 
 He was no doubt stirred by other political motives less 
 praiseworthy, though submitted to in accordance with the 
 practice and the known usages of Home. He had under- 
 taken to s[)cak for Catiline when Catiline was accused of 
 corrui)tion on his return from Africa, knowing that Catiline 
 had been guilty. He did not do so ; but the intention, 
 f(jr our j)resent purpose is the same as the doing. To have
 
 Ills EXILE. 371 
 
 defended Catiline would have assisted him in his operations 
 as a candidate for the Consulship. Catiline was a bad 
 subject for a defence, — as was Fonteius whom he certainly 
 did defend, — and Catiline was a democrat. But Cicero had 
 he defended Catiline, would not have done so as holding 
 out his hand to democracy. Cicero when, in the " Pro 
 Lege Manilia" he for the first time addressed the people, 
 certainly spoke in opposition to the wishes of the Senate 
 in proposing that Pompey should have the command, of 
 the Mithridatic war, — but his views were not democratic. 
 It has been said that this was done because Pompey could 
 help him to the Consulship. To me it seems that he had 
 already declared to himself that among leading men in 
 Eome Pompey was the one to whom the Eepublic would 
 look with the most security as a bulwark, and that on that 
 account he had resolved to bind himself to Pompey in some 
 political marriage. Be that as it may, there was no tampering 
 with democracy in the speech " Pro Lege Manilia." Of 
 all the extant orations made by him before his Consulship 
 the attentive reader will sympathise the least with that 
 for Fonteius. After his scathing onslaught on Verres for 
 provincial plunder, he defended the plunderer of the Gauls, 
 — and held up the suffering allies of Eome to ridicule as 
 being hardly entitled to good government. This he did 
 simply as an advocate, without political motive of any 
 kind, — in the days in which he was supposed to be currying 
 favour with democracy, — governed by private friendship, 
 looking forward probably to some friendly office in return, as 
 was customary. It was thus that afterwards he defended 
 
 B B 2
 
 372 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Antony, his colleague in tlie Consulship, whom he knew 
 to have been a corrupt governor. Autronius had been a 
 party to Catiline's conspiracy, and Autronius had been Cicero's 
 schoolfellow, but Cicero for some reserved reason with which 
 we are not acquainted refused to plead for Autronius. There 
 is, I maintain no ground for suo-gesting that Cicero had 
 shown by his speeches before his Consulship any party 
 adherence. The declaration which he made after his Con- 
 sulship, in the speech for Sulla, that up to the time of 
 Catiline's first conspiracy forensic duties had not allowed 
 him to devote himself to party politics, is entitled to belief. 
 We know indeed that it was so. As Qua?stor, as ^dile, 
 and as Praetor he did not interfere in the political questions 
 of Piome except in demanding justice from judges and 
 purity from governors. When he became Consul, then he 
 became a politician, and after that there was certainly no 
 vacillation in his views. Critics say that he surrendered 
 himself to Caesar when Caesar became master. We shall 
 come to that hereafter; but the accusation with which I 
 am dealing now is that M'hich charges him with having 
 abandoned the democratic memories of his youth as soon 
 as he had enveloped himself with the Consular purple. 
 There had been no democratic promises, and there was 
 no change when he became Consul. 
 
 In liiith Cicero's political convictions were the same from 
 the beginning to the end of his career, with a consistency 
 which is by no means iisual in politicians. For though, 
 before his Consulshij), he had not taken up politics as a 
 business, he had entertained certain pulitical views, — as do all
 
 HIS EXILE. 373 
 
 men who live in public. From the first to the last we may 
 best describe him, by the word we have now in use, as a Con- 
 servative. The government of Eonie had been an oligarchy 
 for many years, though much had been done by the citizens 
 to reduce the thraldom which an oligarchy is sure to exact. 
 To that oligarchy Cicero was bound by all the convictions, 
 by all the practices, and by all the prejudices of his life. 
 When he speaks of a Eepublic he speaks of a people and 
 of an Empire governed by an oligarchy ; — he speaks of a 
 power to be kept in the hands of a few, — for the benefit 
 of the few, and of the many if it might be, — but at any rate 
 in the hands of a few. That those few should be so select 
 as to admit of no new comers among them would probably 
 have been a portion of his political creed, had he not been 
 himself a " novus homo." As he was the first of his family 
 to storm the barrier of the fortress he had been forced to 
 depend much on popular opinion ; — but not on that account 
 had there been any dealings between him and democracy. 
 That the Empire should be governed according to the old 
 oligarchical forms which had been in use for more than four 
 centuries, and had created the power of Eome, — that was 
 his political creed. That Consuls, Censors, and Senators 
 might go on to the end of time with no diminution of their 
 dignity, — but with great increase of justice and honour and 
 truth among them, — that w^as his political aspiration. They 
 had made Eome what it was, and he knew and could imagine 
 nothing better. And, odious as an oligarchy is seen to be 
 under the strong light of experience to wdiich prolonged 
 ages has subjected it, the aspiration on his part was noble.
 
 374 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 He has been wrongly accused of deserting " that democracy 
 with which he had flirted in his youth." There had been 
 no democracy in his youth though there had existed such 
 a condition in the time of the Gracchi. There was none 
 in his youth and none in his age. That which has been 
 wrongly called democracy was — conspiracy ; not a conspiracy 
 of democrats such as led to our Commonwealth, or to the 
 American Independence, or to the French Eevolution ; but 
 conspiracy of a few nobles for the better assurance of the 
 plunder and the power and the high places of the Empire. 
 Of any tendency towards democracy no man has been less 
 justly accused than Cicero, — unless it might be Csesar. To 
 Caesar we must accord the merit of having seen that a con- 
 tinuation of the old oligarchical forms was impracticable. This 
 Cicero did not see. He thought that the wounds inflicted by 
 the degeneracy and profligacy of individuals were curable. It 
 is attributed to Ciesar that he conceived the grand idea of 
 establishing general liberty under the sole dominion uf one 
 great, and therefore beneficent ruler. I think he saw no farther 
 than that he, by strategy, management and courage, might be- 
 come this ruler, whether beneficent or the reverse. But here 
 I think that it becomes the writer, whether he be historian, 
 biographer, or fill wliatcver meaner position he may in litera- 
 ture, to declare that no beneficence can accompany such a form 
 of government. For all temporary sleekness, for metropolitan 
 comfort and fatness, the bill has to be paid sooner or later 
 in ignorance, poverty and oppression. With an oligarchy 
 tlicre will be otlier, perhaps graver faults. But with an 
 oligarchy there will be salt, though it be among a few.
 
 ms EXILE. 375 
 
 There will be a Cicero now and again, — or at least a Cato. 
 From the dead, stagnant level of personal despotism there 
 can be no rising to life till corruption paralyses the hands 
 of power, and the fabric falls by its own decay. Of this 
 no proof can be found in the world's history so manifest 
 as that taught by the Eoman Empire, 
 
 I think it is made clear by a study of Cicero's life and 
 works up to the period of his exile that an adhesion to the 
 old forms of the Eoman government was his guiding prin- 
 ciple. I am sure that they who follow me to the close of 
 his career will acknowledge that after his exile he lived for 
 this principle, — and that he died for it. " Kespublica," the 
 Eepublic, was the one word which to his ear contained a 
 political charm. It was the Shibboleth by which men were 
 to be conjured into well-being. The word Constitution is 
 nearly as potent with us. But it is essential that the reader 
 of Eoman history and Eoman biography should understand 
 that the appellation had in it for all Eoman ears a thoroughly 
 conservative meaning. Among those who at Cicero's period 
 dealt with politics in Eome, all of whom no doubt spoke of 
 the Eepublic as the vessel of State which was to be defended 
 by all persons, there were four classes. These were they 
 who simply desired the plunder of the State, the Catilines, 
 the SuUas of the day, and the Antonys ; men such as Verres 
 had been, and Fonteius and Autronius. The other three 
 can be best typified each by one man. There was Caesar, 
 who knew that the Eepublic was gone, past all hope. There 
 was Cato, — "the dogmatical fool Cato" as Mommsen calls 
 him, perhaps with some lack of the historian's dignity, who
 
 076 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 was true to tlie Eepublic, who could not bend an inch, and 
 was thus as detrimental to any hope of reconstruction as a 
 Catiline or a Ctesar. Cicero was of the fourth class, believing 
 in the Eepublic, iutent on saving it, imbued amidst all his 
 doubts with a conviction that if the " optiraates" or "boni," 
 — the leading men of the party, — would be true to them- 
 selves, Consuls, Censors and Senate would still suffice to rule 
 the world ; but prepared to give and take with those who 
 were opposed to him. It was his idea that political integrity 
 should keep its own hands clean, but should wink at much 
 dirt in the world at large. Nothing, he saw, could be done by 
 Catonic rigour. We can see now that Ciceronic compromises 
 were and must have been equally ineffective. The patient 
 was past cure. But in seeking the truth as to Cicero we liave 
 to perceive that amidst all his doubts, frequently in de- 
 spondency, sometimes overwhelmed by the misery and hope- 
 lessness of his condition, he did hold fast by this idea to the 
 end. The frequent expressions made to Atticus in opposition 
 to this belief are to be taken as the murnmrs of his mind 
 at the moment, — as you shall hear a man swear that all 
 is gone and see him tear his hair, and shall yet know that 
 there is a deep fund of liope within his bosom. It was the 
 inn-ratitude of liis political friends, his " boni " and his 
 " optiraates," of Tonipey as their head, which tried him the 
 sorest ; — but he was always forgiving tbem, forgiving Pompey 
 as the head of them, because he knew that were he to be 
 severed from them, then tliu political world must be closed 
 to liiiii allogether. 
 
 Of Cicero's strcn.^lh or Cicero's weakness Pompey seems
 
 HIS EXILE. 377 
 
 to have known nothing. He was no judge of men, CoRsar 
 measured him with a great approach to accuracy. Cffisar 
 knew him to be the best Roman of his day, one who if he 
 could be brought over to serve in Ca3sarean ranks would be 
 invaluable, — because of his honesty, his eloquence, and his 
 capability. But he knew him as one who must be silenced 
 if he were not brought to serve on the Csesarean side. Such 
 a man however might be silenced for a while, — taught to 
 perceive that his efforts were vain — and then brought into 
 favour by further overtures, and made of use. Personally he 
 was pleasant to Ctesar, who had taste enough to know that 
 he was a man worthy of all personal dignity. But Csesar 
 was not, I think, quite accurate in his estimation, having 
 allowed himself to believe at the last that Cicero's energy 
 on behalf of the Republic had been quelled. 
 
 Now we will go back to the story of Cicero's exile. 
 B c 58 Grradually during the preceding year he had learned 
 setat. 49. ^.j^,^^ Clodius was preparing to attack him and to 
 doubt whether he could expect protection from the Trium- 
 virate. That he could, be made safe by the justice either 
 of the people or by that of any court before which he could 
 be tried, seems never to have occurred to him. He knew 
 the people and he knew the courts too well. Pompey no 
 doubt might have warded off the coming evil. Such at least 
 was Cicero's idea. To him Pompey was the greatest political 
 power as yet extant in Pome ; but he was beginning to 
 believe that Pompey would be untrue to him. When he had 
 sent to Pompey a long account of the grand doings of his 
 Consulship, Pompey had replied with faintest praises. He
 
 378 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 had rejected the overtures of the Triumvirate. In the last 
 letter to Atticus in the year before, written in August,^ he 
 had declared that the Eepublic was ruined; that they who 
 liad brought things to this pass, — meaning the Triumvirate, 
 — were hostile ; but, for himself, he was confident in saying 
 that he was quite safe in the good will of men around him. 
 There is a letter to his brother written in November, the 
 next letter in the collection, in which he says that Pompey 
 and Ca3sar promise him everything. With the exception 
 of two letters of introduction we have nothing from him 
 till he writes to Atticus from the first scene of his exile. 
 
 AYhen the new year commenced Clodius was Tribune of 
 the people, and immediately was active. Piso and Gabinius 
 were Consuls. Piso was kinsman to Piso Frugi who had 
 married Cicero's daughter,^ and was expected to befriend 
 Cicero at this crisis. But Clodius procured the allotment 
 of Syria and Macedonia to the two Consuls by the popular 
 vote. They were Provinces rich in plunder ; and it was 
 matter of importance for a Consul to know that the prey 
 which should come to him as Proconsul should be worthy 
 of his grasp. They were therefore ready to support the 
 Tribune in what he proposed to do. It was necessary to 
 Cicero's enemies that there shouhl be some law by which 
 Cicero might be condemned. It would not be within the 
 power of Clodius, even with the Triumvirate at his back, 
 
 1 Ad Att. ii. 25. 
 
 '^ We do not know wIicti tlie marriage took place, or any of the circum- 
 stances. But we are aware that when TuUia came, in the following year, 
 B.C. 57, to meet her father at Brundisiuni, she was a widow.
 
 ins EXILE. 379 
 
 to drive the man out of Rome and out of Italy, without 
 an alleged cause. Though Justice had been tabooed, Law 
 was still in vogue. Now there was a matter as to which 
 Cicero was open to attack. As Consul he had caused 
 certain Eoman citizens to be executed as conspirators 
 in the teeth of a law which enacted that no Roman 
 citizen should be condemned to die except by a direct 
 vote of the people. It had certainly become a maxim 
 of the constitution of the Republic that a citizen should 
 not be made to suffer death, except by the voice of the 
 people. The Valerian, the Porcian, and the Sempronian 
 Laws had all been passed to that effect. Now there had 
 been no popular vote as to the execution of Lentulus and 
 the other conspirators who had been taken red-handed in 
 Rome in the affair of Catiline. Their death had been 
 decreed by the Senate, and the decree of the Senate had 
 been carried out by Cicero. But no decree of the Senate 
 had the power of a law. In spite of that decree the old 
 law was in force; and no appeal to the people had been 
 albwed to Lentulus. But there had grown up in the 
 constitution a practice which had been supposed to override 
 the Valerian and Porcian laws. In certain emergencies 
 the Senate would call upon the Consuls to see that the 
 Republic should suffer no injury, and it had been held that 
 at such moments the Consuls were invested with an authority 
 above all law. Cicero had been thus strengthened when 
 as Consul he had struggled with Catiline. But it was an 
 open question, — as Cicero himself very well knew. In the 
 year of his Consulship, — the very year in which Lentulus
 
 380 TAFE OF CICERO. 
 
 and the others had been strangled, — he had defended 
 Eabirius who was then accused of having killed a citizen 
 thirty years before. Eabirius was charged with having 
 slaughtered the Tribune Saturninus by consular authority, 
 the Consuls of the day having been ordered to defend the 
 Eepublic, as Cicero had been ordered. Eabirius probably had 
 not killed Saturninus, nor did any one now care whether he 
 had done so or not. The trial had been brought about 
 notoriously by the agency of Ctesar, who caused himself to 
 be selected by the Praetor as one of the two judges for the 
 occasion ; ^ and Csesar's object as notoriously was to lessen 
 the authority of the Senate, and to support the democratic 
 interest. Both Cicero and Hortensius defended Eabirius, but 
 he was condemned by Caesar, and, as we are told, himself 
 only escaped by using that appeal to the people in support 
 of which he had himself been brought to trial. In this, as 
 in so many of the forensic actions of the day, there had 
 been an admixture of violence and law. We must, I think, 
 acknowledge that there was the same leaven of illegality in 
 tlie proceedings against Lentulus. It had no doubt been 
 llic intention of the constitution that a Consul in the heat 
 of an emergency should use his personal authority for the 
 protection of the Commonwealth, — but it cannot be alleged 
 that there was such an emergency when the full Senate had 
 had time to debate on the fate of the Catiline criminals, 
 r.olh from Caesar's words as reported by Sallust, and by 
 Cicero's as given to us by liinisclf, we are aware that an idea 
 
 ^ Suetonius, .Iiilius ('lusar, xii. " Subornavit etiam qui C. Rabirio per- 
 duellioiiis Ji'na diccret."
 
 HIS EXILE. 381 
 
 of the illegality of the proceeding was present in the minds 
 of Senators at the moment. But, though law was loved at 
 Eome, all forensic and legislative proceedings were at this 
 time carried on with monstrous illegality. Consuls consulted 
 the heavens falsely ; Tribunes used their veto violently ; 
 judges accepted bribes openly; the votes of the people were 
 manipulated fraudulently. In the trial and escape of 
 Eabirius the laws were despised by those who pretended to 
 vindicate them. Clodius had now become a Tribune by the 
 means of certain legal provision, but yet in opposition to all 
 law. In the conduct of the affair against Catiline Cicero 
 seems to have been actuated by pure patriotism and to have 
 been supported by a fine courage ; but he knew tliat in 
 destroying Lentulus and Cethegus he subjected himself to 
 certain dangers. He had willingly faced these dangers for 
 the sake of the object in view. As long as he might remain 
 the darling of the people, as he was at that moment, he 
 would no doubt be safe ; — but it was not given to any one 
 to be for long the darling of the Eoman people. Cicero 
 had become so by using an eloquence to which the Eomans 
 were peculiarly susceptible. But though they loved sweet 
 tongues, long purses went further with them. Since Cicero's 
 Consulship he had done nothing to offend the people, except 
 to remain occasionally out of their sight ; but he had lost the 
 brilliancy of his popularity, and he was aware that it M'as so. 
 In discussing popularity in Eome we have to remember of 
 what elements it was formed. We hear that this or that 
 man was potent at some special time by the assistance 
 coming to him from the popular voice. There was in Eome
 
 382 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 a vast population of idle men, who had been trained by their 
 
 city life to look to the fact of their citizenship for their 
 
 support, and who did in truth live on their citizenship. Of 
 
 " panem et circenses " we have all heard, and know that 
 
 eleemosynary bread and tlie public amusements of the day 
 
 supplied the material and a3sthetic wants of many Eomans. 
 
 But men so fed and so amused were sure to need further 
 
 occupations. They became attached to certain friends, to 
 
 certain patrons, and to certain parties, and soon learned that 
 
 a return was expected for the food, and for the excitement 
 
 supplied to them. This they gave by holding themselves in 
 
 readiness for whatever violence was needed from them, — till it 
 
 became notorious in Eome that a great party man might best 
 
 attain his political object by fighting for it in the streets. 
 
 This was the meaning of that saying of Crassus, that a 
 
 man could not be considered rich till he could keep an 
 
 army in his own pay. A popular vote obtained and 
 
 declared by a faction fight in the forum was still a 
 
 popular vote, and if supported by sufficient violence would 
 
 be valid. There had been street fighting of the kind 
 
 when Cicero had defended Cains Cornelius, in the year 
 
 after liis Prsetorship. There had been fighting of the 
 
 kind when Tfabirius had been condemned in his Consulship. 
 
 We shall learn by and by to what extent such fighting 
 
 prevailed wluui Clodius was killed by ]\Iilo's body-guard. 
 
 At the period of which we are now writing, when Clodius 
 
 was intent on pursuing Cicero to his ruin, it was a question 
 
 wiLli Cicero himself whether he would not trust to a certain 
 
 faction in Jioino to light fui' him, and so to protect him.
 
 HIS EXILE. 383 
 
 Tliough his popularity was on the wane, — that general 
 popularity which, we may presume, had been produced by the 
 tone of his voice and the grace of his language, — there still 
 remained to him that other popularity which consisted in truth 
 of the trained bands employed by the " boni," and the " opti- 
 mates," and which might be used, if need were, in opposition 
 to trained bands on the other side. 
 
 The bill first proposed by Clodius to the people with the 
 object of destroying Cicero, did not mention Cicero, — nor in 
 truth refer to him. It purported to enact that he who had 
 caused to be executed any Eoman citizen not duly condemned 
 to death, should himself be deprived of the privilege of water 
 or fire.^ This condemned no suggested malefactor to death ; 
 but, in accordance with Eoman law, made it impossible that 
 any Eoman so condemned should live within whatever 
 bounds might be named for this withholding of fire «nd 
 water. The penalty intended was banishment. But by this 
 enactment no individual would be banished. Cicero, however, 
 at once took the suggestion to himself and put himself into 
 mourning, — as a man accused and about to be brought to his 
 trial. He went about the streets accompanied by crowds 
 armed for his protection; — and Clodius also caused himself 
 to be so accompanied. There came thus to be a question 
 which might prevail should there be a general fight. The 
 Senate was as a body on Cicero's side, but was quite unable 
 to cope with the Triumvirate. Cffisar no doubt had resolved 
 that Cicero should be made to go ; — and Caesar was lord of 
 
 1 " (^'ui civem Eomanum iudemnatum perimisset, ei aqua at igni iiiterdice- 
 retur."
 
 384 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the Triumvirate. On behalf of Cicero there was a large body 
 of the conservative or oligarchical party who were still true 
 to him ; — and they, too, all went into the usual public mourn- 
 ing, evincing their desire that the accused man should be 
 rescued from his accusers. 
 
 The bitterness of Clodius would be surprising did we not 
 know how bitter had been Cicero's tongue. When the affair 
 of the Bona Dea had taken place there was no special enmity 
 between this debauched young man and the great Consul. 
 Cicero, though his own life had ever been clean and well 
 ordered, rather affected the company of fast young men when 
 he found them to be witty as well as clever. This very 
 Clodius had been in his good books, till the affair of the Bona 
 Dea. But now the Tribune's hatred was internecine. I have 
 hitherto said nothing and need say but little, of a certain 
 disreputable lady named Clodia. She was the sister of 
 Clodius and the wife of Metellus Celer. She was accused, by 
 public voice in Eome of living in incest with her brother, 
 and of poisoning her husband. Cicero calls her afterwards 
 in his defence of Cselius, " amica omnium." She had the 
 nickname of Quadrantaria ^ given to her because she fre- . 
 f|uented the public baths, at which the charge was a farthing. 
 It must be said also of her, either in praise or in dispraise, 
 that she was the Lcsbia who inspired the muse of Catullus. 
 It was rumoured in IJome that she had endeavoured to set 
 her cap at (Jicero. Cicero in his raillery had not spared the 
 lady. To speak publicly the grossest evil of women was not 
 
 ' I'liihiicli lills us (if tliis sobriquet, Lut gives iinotlicr reason for it, — 
 c'lually iiijuiious to the lady's reimtatioi).
 
 JUS EXILE. 385 
 
 opposed to any idea of gallantry current among tlie Eomans. 
 Our sense of chivalry, as well as decency, is disgusted by 
 the language used by Horace to women who once to him 
 were young and pretty but have become old and ugly. The 
 venom of Cicero's abuse of Clodia annoys us, and we have 
 to remember that the gentle ideas which we have taken in 
 with our mother's milk had not grown into use with the 
 Eomans. It is necessary that this woman's name should 
 be mentioned, and it may appear here as she was one of 
 the causes of that hatred which burned between Clodius 
 and Cicero, till Clodius was killed in a street row. 
 
 It has been presumed that Cicero was badly advised in 
 presuming publicly that the new law was intended against 
 himself, and in taking upon himself the outward signs of a 
 man under affliction. " The resolution," says Middleton, " of 
 changing his gown was too hasty and inconsiderate and helped 
 to precipitate his ruin." He was sensible of his error when too 
 late, and oft reproaches Atticus that being a stander-by, and 
 less heated with the game than himself, he would suffer him 
 to make such blunders. And he quotes the words written to 
 Atticus. " Here my judgment first failed me, or indeed 
 brought me into trouble. We were blind, blind I say, in 
 
 changing our raiment and in appealing to the populace 
 
 I handed myself and all belonging to me over to my enemies, 
 — while you were looking on, while you were holding your 
 peace ; — yes, you, who, if your wit in the matter was no 
 better than mine, were impeded by no personal fears." ^ But 
 
 1 Ad Att. lib, iii. 15. 
 VOL. I. CO
 
 386 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 the reader sliould study the entire letter, — and study it in tlie 
 original, for no translator can give its true purport. This the 
 reader must do before he can understand Cicero's state of 
 mind when writing it, or his relation to Atticus, — or the 
 thoughts which distracted him when in accordance with the 
 advice of Atticus he resolved, while yet uncondemned, to 
 retire into banishment. The censure to which Atticus is 
 subjected throughout this letter is that which a thoughtful 
 hesitating scrupulous man is so often disposed to address to 
 himself. After reminding Atticus of the sort of advice which 
 should have been given, — the want of which in the first 
 moment of his exile he regrets,' — and doing this in words of 
 which it is very difficult now to catch the exact flavour, he 
 begs to be pardoned for his reproaches. " You will forgive 
 me this," he says. " I blame myself more than I do you. 
 ]iut I look to you as a second self, and I make you a sharer 
 with me of my own folly." I take this letter out of its course 
 and speak of it as connected with that terrible period of 
 doubt to which it refers, in which he had to decide whether 
 he would remain in Eome and fight it out, or run before his 
 enemies. But in wiiting the letter afterwards his mind 
 was as much disturbed as when he did fly. I am inclined 
 therefore to think that Middleton and others may have 
 been wrong in blaming his flight, — which they have done 
 because in his sulisequent vacillating moods he blamed him- 
 self. How the battle might have gone had he remained, we 
 have no evidence to show, — but we do know that though he 
 fled, he returned soon with renewed glory, and altogether 
 overcame the attempt which had been made to destroy him.
 
 Ills EXILE. 387 
 
 lu this time of liis distress a strong effort was made by tlie 
 Senate to rescue him. It was proposed to them that they all 
 as a body should go into mourning on his behalf. Indeed 
 the Senate passed a vote to this effect, but were prevented 
 by the two Consuls from carrying it out. As to what he 
 had best do he and his friends were divided. Some recom- 
 mended that lie should remain where he was, and defend 
 himself by street-fighting should it be necessary. In doing 
 this he would acknowledge tliat law no longer prevailed in 
 Kome, — a condition of things to which many had given in 
 their adherence but with which Cicero would surely have 
 been the last to comply. He himself, in his despair, thought 
 for a time that the old Roman mode of escape would be 
 preferable and that he might with decorum end his life 
 and his troubles by suicide. Atticus and others dissuaded 
 him from this and recommended him to fly. Among these 
 Cato and Hortensius have both been named. To this advice 
 he at last yielded, and it may be doubted whether any better 
 could have been given. Lawlessness, which had been ram- 
 pant in Rome before, had, under the Triumvirate, become 
 almost lawfuL It was Caesar's intention to carry out his 
 will with such compliance with the forms of the Republic 
 as might suit him, but, in utter disregard to all such forms, 
 when they did not suit him. This banishment of Cicero was 
 one of the last steps taken by Ciesar before he left Rome 
 for his campaigns in Gaul. He was already in command 
 of the legions and was just without the city. He had 
 endeavoured to buy Cicero, but had failed. Having failed 
 he had determined to be rid of him. Clodius was but his 
 
 c c 2
 
 388 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 tool, — as were Pompey and the two Consuls. Had Cicero 
 endeavoured to support himself by violence in Rome, his 
 contest would in fact have been with Csesar. 
 
 Cicero, before he went, applied for protection personally 
 to Piso the Consul and to Pompey. Gabinius the other 
 Consul had already declared his purpose to the Senate, but 
 Piso was bound to him by family ties. He himself relates 
 to us in his oration spoken, after his return, against this 
 Piso the manner of the meeting between him and Piome's 
 chief officer. Piso told him, — so at least Cicero declared in 
 the Senate and we have heard of no contradiction, — that 
 Gabinius was so driven by debts as to be unable to hold 
 up his head without a rich province ; that he himself, Piso, 
 could only hope to get a province by taking part with 
 Gabinius ; that any application to the Consuls was useless, 
 and that everyone must look after himself.^ Concerning his 
 appeal to Pompey two stories have been given to us, neither 
 of which appear to be true. Plutarch says that when Cicero 
 had travelled out from Rome to Pompey's Alban villa, 
 Pompey ran out of the back door to avoid meeting him. 
 Plutarch cared more for a good story than for accuracy, and 
 is not worthy of much credit as to details unless when cor- 
 roborated. The other account is based on Cicero's assertion 
 that he did see Pompey on this occasion. Nine or ten years 
 alter the meeting he refers to it in a letter to Atticus, which 
 leaves 110 doubt as to tlie fact. The story founded on that 
 letter declares that Cicero threw liiinself bodily at his old 
 
 ^ In Pisonem, vi.
 
 ins EXILE. 389 
 
 friend's feet, and that Pompey did not lend a liand to raise 
 him but tohl him simply that everything was in Caesar's 
 hands. This narrative is, I think, due to 'a misinterpre- 
 tation of Cicero's words, though it is given by a close 
 translation of them. He is describing Pomjaey when Caesar 
 after his Gallic wars had crossed the Eubicon, and the two 
 late Triumvirates, — the third having perished miserably in the 
 East, — were in arms against each other. " Alter ardet furore 
 etscelere," he says.^ Ca?sar is pressing on unscrupulous in his 
 passion. " Alter is qui nos sibi quondam ad pedes stratos 
 ne sublevabat quidem, qui se nihil contra hujus voluntatem 
 aiebat facere posse." " That other one," he continues, — mean- 
 ing Pompey and pursuing his picture of the present contrast, 
 — "wlio in days gone by would not even lift me wlien 
 I lay at his feet, and told me that he could do nothing but 
 as Csesar wished it." This little supposed detail of biography 
 has been given no doubt from an accurate reading of the 
 words ; but in it the spirit of the writer's mind as he wrote 
 it, has surely been missed. Tlie prostration of which he 
 spoke, from which Pompey would not raise him, the memory 
 of which was still so bitter to him, was not a prostration of 
 the body. I hold it to have been impossible that Cicero 
 should have assumed such an attitude before Pompey, or 
 that he would so have written to Atticus had he done so. 
 It would have been neither Roman nor Ciceronian, as displayed 
 by Cicero to Pompey. He had gone to his old ally and told 
 him of his trouble, and had no doubt reminded him of those 
 
 1 Ad Att. lib. X. 4.
 
 390 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 promises of assistance which Pompey had so often made. 
 Then Pompey had refused to help him, and had assured him, 
 witli too much truth, that Caesar's will was everything. 
 Again we have to remember that in judging of the meaning 
 of words between two such correspondents as Cicero and 
 Atticus, we must read between the lines, and interpret the 
 words by creating for ourselves something of the spirit in 
 which they were written, and in which they were received. 
 I cannot imagine that in describing to Atticus what had 
 occurred at that interview nine years after it had taken 
 place, Cicero had intended it to be understood that he had 
 really grovelled' in the dust. 
 
 Towards the end of ]\Iarch he started from Rome intending 
 to take refuge among his friends in Sicily. On the same 
 day Clodius brought in a bill directed against Cicero by 
 name and caused it to be carried by tlie people, " Ut Marco 
 Tullio aqua et igni interdictum sit : " — that it should be 
 illegal to supply Cicero with fire and water. Tiie law 
 when passed forbade any one to harbour the criminal within 
 four hundred miles of Home, and declared the doing so to 
 be a capital offence. It is evident from the action of 
 those who obeyed the law and of those who did not, that 
 legal results were not feared so much as the ill will of those 
 who had driven Cicero to his exile. They who refused him 
 succour did do so not Ijccause to give it him would be 
 illegal, but lest Ctesar and Pompey would be olfended. It 
 did iKjt last long, and dining tlio short period of his exile 
 lie I'ound perhaps more of friendship than of enmity. Put 
 lie directed his ste[)S in accordance with the bearing of party
 
 HIS EXILE. 301 
 
 spirit. We are told that he was afraid to go to Athens 
 because at Atliens lived that Autronius whom he had refused 
 to defend. Autronius had been convicted of conspiracy and 
 banished, and having been a Catilinarian conspirator had been 
 in truth on Cffisar's side. Nor were geographical facts 
 sufficiently established to tell Cicero what places were and 
 what were not without the forbidden circle. He sojourned 
 first at Vibo in the extreme south of Italy, intending to pass 
 from thence into Sicily. It was there that he learned that 
 a certain distance had been prescribed, but it seems that 
 he had already heard that the Proconsular Governor of the 
 island would not receive him, — fearing Cresar. Then he 
 came north from Vibo to Brundisium, that being the port 
 by which travellers generally went from Italy to the East, 
 He had determined to leave his family in Rome, feeling 
 probably that it would be easier for him to find a, temporary 
 home for himself than for him and them together. And 
 there were money difficulties in which Atticus helped him.^ 
 Atticus, always wealthy, had now become a very rich man 
 by the death of an uncle. We do not know of what nature 
 were the money arrangements made by Cicero at the time, 
 but there can be no doubt that the losses by his exile were 
 very great. There was a thorough disruption of his pro- 
 perty for which the subsequent generosity of his country 
 was unable altogether to atone. But this sat lightly on 
 
 1 We are told by Cornelius ITepos in liis life of Atticus that when Cicero 
 fled from his country Atticus advanced to him 250 sesterces, or about 2,000Z. 
 I doubt however whether the flight here referred to was not that early visit 
 to Athens which Cicero was supposed to have made in his fear of Sulla.
 
 392 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 Cicero'o heart, recuniaiy losses never weighed lieavily with 
 him. 
 
 As he journeyed hack from Viho to Brimdisium friends 
 were very kind to him in spite of tlie law. Towards the 
 end of the speech which he made five years afterwards on 
 behalf of his friend C. Planciiis he explains the debt of 
 gratitude which he owed to his client whose kindness to him 
 in his exile had been very great. He commences his story 
 of the goodness of Plancius by describing the generosity of 
 the towns on the road to Brundisium and the hospitality 
 of his friend Flavins who had received him at his house in 
 the neighbourhood of that town and had placed him safely 
 on board a ship when at last he resolved to cross over 
 to Dyrrachium. There were many schemes running in his 
 head at this time. At one period he had resolved to pass 
 tlirough Macedonia into Asia, and to remain for a while 
 at Cyzicum. This idea he expresses in a letter to his wife 
 written from Brundisium. Then he goes, wailing no doubt, 
 — but in words whicli to me seem very natural as coming 
 from a husband in such a condition. " me perditum, 
 me afflictum," ^ exclamations which it is impossible to trans- 
 late, as they refer to his wife's separation from himself rather 
 than to his own personal sufferings. " How am I to ask 
 you to come to me," he says, " you a woman, ill in health, 
 worn out in body and in spirit ? I cannot ask you ! IMust I 
 tlicn live witliout you ? It must be so, I think. If tlierc 
 be any hope of my relurn it is you must look to it, you 
 
 ' All Fain. lib. xiv. iv. " Tnllius to liis Tcreiitia, ami to liis young Tullia, 
 mil to liis Cicero," meauiiiff his boj-.
 
 HIS EXILE. ^ 393 
 
 lliat must streiigtlien it. But if as T fear, the thing is 
 done ; — then come to me. If I can have you I shall not 
 be altogether destroyed." Ko doubt these are wailings ; — 
 but is a man unmanly because he so wails to the wife of 
 his bosom? Other Eomans have written prettily about 
 women. It was common for Eomans to do so. Catullus 
 desires from Lesbia as many kisses as are the stars of night 
 or the sands of Libya. Horace swears that he would perish 
 for Chloe if Chloe might be left alive. " When I am dying," 
 .<5ays Tibullus to Delia, "may I be gazing at you; may my 
 last grasp hold your hand." Propertius tells Cynthia that 
 she stands to him in lieu of home and parents and all the 
 joys of life. "Whether he be sad with his friends oi happy, 
 Cynthia does it all." The language in each case is perfect ; 
 but what other Eoman was there of whom we have evidence 
 that he spoke to his wife like this ? Ovid in his letters from 
 his banishment says much of his love for his wife ; but there 
 is no passion expressed in anything that Ovid wrote. 
 
 Clodius, as soon as the enactment against Cicero becaine 
 law, caused it be carried into effect with all its possible 
 cruelties. The criminal's property was confiscated. The 
 house on the Palatine Hill was destroyed, and the goods 
 were put up to auction, — with, as we are told, a great lack 
 of buyers. His choicest treasures were carried away by the 
 Consuls themselves. Piso who had lived near him in Eome 
 got for himself and for his father-in-law the rich booty from 
 the town house. The country villas were also destroyed, 
 and Gabinius who had a country house close by Cicero's 
 Tusculan retreat took even the very shrubs out of the garden.
 
 394 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 He tells tlie story of the greed and enmity of the Consuls 
 in the speech he made after his return Pro Domo Sua/ 
 pleading for the restitution of his household property. 
 " My house on the Palatine was burnt," he says, — " not by 
 any accident, but by arson. In the meantime the Consuls 
 were feasting and were congratulating themselves among the 
 conspirators ; — when one boasted that he had been Catiline's 
 friend, the other that Cethegus had been his cousin." By 
 this he implies that the conspiracy which dviring his Consul- 
 ship had been so odious to Eome, was now, in these days of 
 the Triumvirate, again in favour among Roman aristocrats. 
 
 He went across from Brundisium to Dyrrachium, and from 
 thence to Thessalonica, where he was treated with most 
 loving kindness by Plancius who was Qurestor in these parts, 
 and who came down to Dyrracliium to meet him, clad in 
 mourning for the occasion. This was the Plancius whom he 
 afterwards defended, — and indeed lie was bound to do so. 
 Plancius seems to have had but little dread of the law though 
 he was a Roman officer employed in the very province to 
 the government of wliich the present Consul Piso had already 
 been appointed. Thessalonica was within 400 miles, and 
 yet Cicero lived there with Plancius for some months. 
 
 The letters from Cicero during his exile are to me very 
 touching, though I have been told so often that in having 
 written them he lacked the fortitude of a Pioraan. Perhaps 
 I am nioi'C! capiilth_! of ap})reciatiiig natural humanity than 
 Poniiui r(»ililu(le. "We remember the story of the Spartan 
 
 ^ ]'iii J)iiiii(i Sii;i, xxiv.
 
 HIS EXILE. 395 
 
 boy who allowed the fox to bite him beneath his frock 
 without crying. I think we may imagine that he refrained 
 from tears in public, before some herd of schoolfellows, or a 
 bench of masters, or amidst the sternness of parental au- 
 thority; but that he told his sister afterwards how he had 
 been tortured, or his mother as he lay against her bosom, 
 or perhaps his chosen chum. Such reticences are made 
 dignified by the occasion, when something has to be won 
 by controlling the expression to which nature uncontrolled 
 would give utterance, but are not in themselves evidence 
 either of sagacity or of courage. Eoman fortitude was but a 
 suit of armour to be worn on state occasions. If we come 
 across a warrior with his crested helmet and his sword 
 and his spear, we see no doubt an impressive object. If 
 w^e could find him in his night-shirt, the same man would 
 be there ; but those who do not look deeply into things 
 would be apt to despise \\mx because his grand trappings 
 were absent. Chance has given us Cicero in his night- 
 shirt. The linen is of such fine texture that we are de- 
 lighted with it, but w^e despise the man because he wore 
 a garment, — such as w'e wear ourselves indeed, though 
 when we wear it nobody is then brought in to look 
 at us. 
 
 There is one most touching letter written from Thessa- 
 lonica to his brother, by whom, after thoughts vacillating 
 this way and that, he was unwilling to be visited, thinking 
 that a meeting would bring more of pain than of service. 
 " j\Ii frater, mi frater, mi frater ! " he begins. The words 
 in English would hardly give all the pathos. " Did you
 
 396 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 think that I did not v;ntQ because I am angry ; — or that T 
 did not wish to see you ? I angry with you ? But I could 
 not endure to be seen by you. You would not have seen 
 your brotlier ; not hiin whom you liad left ; not him 
 Avhom you had known ; not him whom, weeping as you 
 went away, you had dismissed, weeping himself as he 
 strove to follow you." ^ Then he heaps blame on his own 
 head, bitterly accusing himself, because he had brought 
 his brother to such a pass of sorrow. In this letter 
 he throws great blame upon Hortensius whom together 
 with Pompey he accuses of betraying him. What truth 
 there may have been in this accusation as to Hortensius we 
 have no means of saying. He couples Pompey in the same 
 charge, and as to Pompey's treatment of him there can be 
 no doubt. Pompey had been untrue to his promises because 
 of his bond with Ca sar. It is probable that Hortensius 
 had failed to put himself forward on Cicero's behalf with 
 that alacrity which the one advocate had expected from the 
 other. Cicero and Hortensius were friends afterwards, — 
 but so were Cicero and I'ompey. Cicero Avas forgiving by 
 nature, and also by self-tiaining. It did not suit his pur- 
 poses to retain liis enmities. Had there been a possibility 
 of reconciling Antony to the cause of the " Optimates " after 
 the Philippics, lie woukl have availed himself of it. 
 
 Cicero at one time intended to go to Butlirotum in Epirus 
 wli(;ro Atiiciis possessed a house and projjcrty ; but he 
 changed liis ])nviH)so. Ho remained at Thessalonica till 
 
 ■ All Ouin. Fra., 1, 3.
 
 HIS EXILE. 397 
 
 November and then returned to Dyrracliium, having, all 
 through his exile, been kept alive by tidings of steps taken 
 for his recall. There seems very soon to have grown up 
 a feeling in Rome that the city had disgraced itself by 
 banishing such a man. And Ceesar had gone to his pro- 
 vinces. We can well imagine that when he had once left 
 Rome, with all his purposes achieved, having so far quieted 
 the tongue of the strong speaker who might have disturbed 
 them, he would take no further steps to perpetuate the 
 orator's banishment. Then Pompey and Clodius soon quar- 
 relled. Pompey without Ciesar to direct him found the 
 arrogance of the patrician Tribune insupportable. We hear 
 of wheels within wheels, and stories within stories in the 
 drama of Roman history as it was played at this time. To- 
 gether with Cicero it had been necessary to Caesar's projects 
 that Cato also should be got out of Rome ;— and this had 
 been managed by means of Clodius, who had a bill passed 
 for the honourable employment of Cato on state purposes 
 in Cyprus. Cato had found himself obliged to go. It 
 was as though our prime minister had got parliamentary 
 authority for sending a noisy member of the opposition 
 to Asiatic Turkey for six months. There was an attempt 
 or an alleged attempt of Clodius to have Pompey murdered. 
 And there was street fighting, so that Pompey was be- 
 sieged, or pretended to be besieged, in his own house. " We 
 might as well seek to set a charivari to music as to write 
 the history of this political witches' revel," says Mommsen, 
 speaking of the state of Rome when Caisar was gone, Cicero 
 banished and Pompey supposed to be in the ascendant.^
 
 398 LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 There was at any rate quarrelling between Clodius and 
 Pompey in the course of which Pompey was induced to 
 consent to Cicero's return. Then Clodius took upon himself 
 in revenge to turn against the Triumvirate altogether, and 
 to repudiate even Caesar himself. But it was all a vain 
 hurley-burley, as to which Csesar when he heard the details 
 in Gaul could only have felt liow little wms to be gained by 
 maintaining his alliance with Pompey. He had achieved 
 his purpose which he could not have done without the 
 assistance of Crassus wdiose wealth, and of Pompey whose 
 authority stood highest in Ptome ; and now, having had his 
 legions voted to him, and his provinces, and his prolonged 
 term of years, he cared nothing for either of them. 
 
 There is a little story which must be repeated, as against 
 Cicero, in reference to this period of his exile because it has 
 been told in all records of his life. Were I to omit the little 
 story, it would seem as though I shunned the records which 
 have been repeated as opposed to his credit. He had written 
 some time back a squib in which lie had been severe upon 
 the elder Curio. So it is supposed ; — but it matters little 
 wlio was the object or wliat the subject. This had got wind 
 in Hume, as such matters do sometimes, — and he now feared 
 that it would do him a mischief with the Curios and the 
 friends of the Curios. The autliorship was only matter 
 of gossip. Could it not be denied ? " As it is written," 
 
 ^ The rciulir who wislns lo ini(Irrst;iiHl with what aiiarcliy the largest 
 fiity in tin; world iiii;^'hl still exist sliouM turn to Chapter VIII. of Book V. 
 of MoiiiiDHeu's history.
 
 HIS EXILE. 399 
 
 says Cicero, " in a style inferior to that which is usual 
 to me, can it not be shown not to have been mine ? " ^ Had 
 Cicero possessed all the Christian virtues, as we hope that 
 prelates and pastors possess them in this happy land, he 
 would not have been betrayed into, at any rate, the expres- 
 sion of such a wish. As it is, the enemies of Cicero 
 must make the most of it. His friends, I think, will look 
 upon it leniently. 
 
 Continued efforts were made among Cicero's friends at 
 Rome to bring him back with which he was not altogether 
 contented. He argues the matter repeatedly with Atticus, 
 not always in the best temper. His friends at Rome were, 
 he thought, doing the matter amiss. They would fail and he 
 would still have to finish his days abroad. Atticus in his 
 way to Epirus visits him at Dyrrachium, and he is sure that 
 Atticus would not have left Rome but that the affair was 
 hopeless. The reader of the correspondence is certainly led 
 to the belief that Atticus must have been the most patient 
 of friends; — but he feels at the same time that Atticus 
 would not have been patient had not Cicero been affectionate 
 and true. The Consuls for the new year were Lentulus and 
 Metellus Nepos. The former was Cicero's declared friend, 
 and the other had already abandoned his enmity. Clodius 
 was no longer Tribune, and Pompey had been brought 
 to yield. The Senate were all but unanimous. But there 
 was still life in Clodius and his party, and day dragged 
 itself after day and month after month while Cicero still 
 
 i Ad Att. lib. iii. 12.
 
 -iOO LIFE OF CICERO. 
 
 lingered at Dyrrachium waiting till a bill should have; 
 been passed by the people. Pompey, who was never 
 whole-hearted in anything, had declared that a bill voted 
 by the people would be necessary. The bill at last was 
 voted, on the 14th of August, and Cicero who knew well 
 what was being done at Eome, passed over from Dyrrachium 
 to Brundisium on the same day, having been a year and four 
 months absent from Kome. During the year, B.C. 57, up to 
 the time of his return, he wrote but three letters that have 
 come to us, — two very short notes to Atticus, in the first of 
 which he declares that he will come over on the authority of 
 a decree of the Senate, without waiting for a law. In the 
 second he falls again into despair declaring that everything 
 is over. In the third he asks Metellus for his aid, telling 
 the Consul that unless it be given soon the man for whom 
 it is asked will no longer be living to receive it. Metellus 
 did give the aid very cordially. 
 
 It has been remarked that Cicero did nothing for literature 
 during his banishment, either by writing essays or preparing 
 speeches ; and it has been implied that the prostration of mind 
 arising from his misfortunes must have been indeed complete 
 when a man wliosc general life was made marvellous by its 
 fecundity liad been repressed into silence. It should, how- 
 ever, be Ijunie in mind that there could be no inducement 
 fur the writing of speeches when there was no opportunity 
 of delivering tlicni. As to his essays, including what we 
 call his philosophy and his rhetoric, they who are familiar 
 with liis works will remember how apt he was in all that he 
 produced to refer to the writings of others. He translates
 
 HIS EXILE. -101 
 
 and lie quotes, and he makes constant use of the arguments 
 and illustrations of those who have gone before him. He 
 was a man who rarely worked without the use of a library. 
 When I think how impossible it would be for me to repeat 
 this oft-told tale of Cicero's life without a crowd of books 
 within reach of my hand, I can easily understand why Cicero 
 was silent at Thessalonica and Dyrrachium. It has been 
 remarked also by a modern critic that we find " in the letters 
 from exile a carelessness and inaccuracy of expression which 
 contrasts strongly with the style of his happier days." I will 
 not for a moment put my judgment in such a matter in 
 opposition to that of Mr. Tyrrell, — but I should myself have 
 been inclined rather to say that the style of Cicero's letters 
 varies constantly, being very different when used to Atticus, 
 or to his brother, or to lighter friends such as Poetus and 
 Trebatius ; — and very different again when business of state 
 was in hand, as are his letters to Decimus Brutus, Cassius, 
 Brutus, and Plancus. To be correct in familiar letters 
 is not to charm. A studied negligence is needed to make 
 such work live to posterity, — a grace of loose expression 
 which may indeed have been made easy by use, but which 
 is far from easy to the idle and unpractised writer. His 
 sorrow, perhaps, required a style of its own. I have not 
 felt my own untutored perception of the language to be 
 offended by unfitting slovenliness in the expression of 
 his crief. 
 
 VOL. I. D D
 
 APPENDICES TO VOLUME L 
 
 D t) 2
 
 APPENDIX A, (to page 49). 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE EAGLE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 Homer, Iliad, lib. xii. 200 :— 
 
 O'/ ^' ert jxepfjL'/jpi^ov ifpeffraSres napct rd<pp(jj. 
 ''Opvis yap (Tcpiv iirriXdt Trepricrifj.ivaL /xfixaujiTiv, 
 Alirhs vil/nrerrjS iir' dpiarepa. \ahu iepycav, 
 ^oivr]evTa ^paKovTO. (pipoiv ovvx^ffai ireKcopov, 
 Zctiov er' affTralpovra' Kal ovttoo \i^6iTo x<^PjUr)j. 
 K6\p€ yap avrhi/ txovra KUTci CTTriOos irapci 5eipr]v, 
 'iSvwOels OTTiffii}' 6 5 airb tQ^v ijKe x^f^^C^t 
 'AA^rj'cras 6^vi/ri<n, fxiffw 5' ivX Ka^lSaX' ofi'iKcf' 
 Avrbs 5e KXay^as weTero ivvofis dvefj-oio. 
 
 Pope's translation of the passage. Book XII. 231 : — 
 
 " A signal omen stopp'd the passing host, 
 The martial fury in their wonder lost. 
 Jove's bird on sounding pinions beat the skies ; 
 A bleeding serpent, of enormous size, 
 His talons trussed ; alive, and curling round, 
 He stung the bird, whose throat received the wound. 
 Mad with the smart, he drops the fatal prey, 
 In airy circles wings his painful way, 
 Floats on the winds, and rends the heav'ns with cries. 
 Amidst the host the fallen serpent lies. 
 They, pale with terror, mark it^ spires unroll'd, 
 And Jove's portent with beating hearts behold."
 
 406 APPENDIX A. 
 
 Lord Derby's Iliad. Book XII. 236 :— 
 
 " For this I read the future, if indeed 
 To us, about to cross, this sign from Heaven 
 Was sent, to leftward of the astonished crowd ; 
 A soaring eagle, bearing in his claws 
 A dragon huge of size, of blood-red hue, 
 Alive ; yet dropped him ere he reached his home, 
 Nor to his nestlings bore the intended prey." 
 
 Cicero's telling of the story : — 
 
 " Hie Jovis altisoni subito pinnata satelles, 
 Arboris e trunco serpentis saucia morsu, 
 Ipsa feris subigit transfigens unguibus anguem 
 Semianimum, et varia graviter cervice micantem. 
 Quem se intorquentem lanians, rostroque cruentans, 
 Jam satiata animum, jam duros ulta dolores, 
 Abjicit efflantem, et laceratum affligit in unda ; 
 Seque obitu a solis nitidos convertit ad ortus." 
 
 Voltaire's translation : — 
 
 "Tel on voit-cet oiseau qui porte le tonnerre, 
 Bless^ par un serpent 41anc6 de la terre ; 
 II s'envole, il entraine au sejour azure 
 L'ennemi tortueux dont il est entoure. 
 Le sang tombe des airs. II d^chire, il d^vore 
 Le reptile acharnc' qui le combat encore ; 
 II le perce, il le tient sous ses ongles vainqueurs ; 
 Par cent coups redoubles il venge ses douleurs. 
 Le monstre, en expirant, se d6bat, se replie ; 
 II exliale en poisons les restes de sa vie ; 
 Et I'aigle, tout sanglant, fier et victorieux, 
 Le rejette en fureiir, ct j)lanc au liaut des cieux. 
 
 ^'irgi^8 version. yiOiieid, Liber XI. 751: — 
 
 " Utque volans alte raptum quum fulva draconem 
 Fert aquila, implicuitque pedes, atque unguibus hajsit 
 Saucius at serpens sinuosa volumina versat,
 
 APPENDIX A. 40 < 
 
 Arrectisquc liorret squamis, et sibilat ore, 
 Ardiius insurgens. Ilia liaiul minus urget obimco 
 Luctantem rostro ; siiuul jethera verberat alis." 
 
 Dryden's translation from Virgil's iEneid, Book XI. : — 
 " So stoops the yellow eagle from on high, 
 
 And bears a speckled serpent through the sky ; 
 
 Fastening his crooked talons on the prey, 
 
 The prisoner hisses through the liquid way ; 
 
 Resists the royal hawk, and though opprest. 
 
 She fights in volumes, and erects her crest. 
 
 Turn'd to her foe, she stiffens every scale. 
 
 And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her threatening tail. 
 
 Against the victor all defence is weak. 
 
 Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak : 
 
 He tears her bowels, and her breast he gores ; 
 
 Then claps his pinions, and securely soars." 
 
 Pitt's translation. Book XI. : — 
 " As when th' imperial eagle soars on high. 
 
 And bears some speckled serpent through the sky. 
 
 While her sharp talons gripe the bleeding prey, 
 
 In many a fold her curling volumes play ; 
 
 Her starting brazen scales with horror rise ; 
 
 The sanguine flames flash dreadful from her eyes. 
 
 She writhes, and hisses at her foe, in vain, 
 
 Who wins at ease the wide aerial plain ; 
 
 With her strong hooky beak the captive plies, 
 
 And bears the struggling prey, triumphant through the skies.'' 
 
 Shelley's version of the battle. The Revolt of Islam. Canto I. : — 
 "For in the air do I behold indeed 
 An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight ; — 
 And now relaxing its impetuous flight. 
 Before the aerial rock on which I stood. 
 The Eagle, hovering, wheeled to left and right, 
 And hung with lingering wings over the flood. 
 
 And startled with its yells the wide air's solitude.
 
 408 APPENDIX A. 
 
 "A shaft of light upon its wings descended, 
 And every golden feather gleamed therein — 
 Feather and scale inextricably blended. 
 The Serpent's mailed and many-coloured skin 
 Shone through the plumes ; its coils were twined within 
 By many a swollen and knotted fold, and high 
 And far, the neck receding lithe and thin, 
 Sustained a crested head, which warily 
 Rliifted and glanced before the Eagle's steadfast eye. 
 
 ■' Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling 
 With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed 
 Incessantly, — sometimes on high concealing 
 Its lessening orbs, sometimes as if it failed. 
 Drooped through the air ; and still it shrieked and wailed 
 And casting back its eager head, with beak 
 And talon unremittingly assailed 
 The wreathed Serpent, who did ever seek 
 Upon his enemy's heart a mortal wound to wreak. 
 
 " Wliat life, what power, was kindled and arose 
 Within the sphere of that appalling fray ! 
 For, from the encounter of those wond' rous foes 
 A vapour like the sea's suspended spraj' 
 Hung gathered ; in the void air, far away, 
 Floated the shattered plumes ; bright scales did leap, 
 Where'er the Eagle's talons made their way. 
 Like sparks into the darkness ; as they sweep, 
 Dlood stains tlje snowy foam of the tumultuous deep. 
 
 "Swift chiinccs in tliat combat, — many a check, 
 And many a change, a dark and wild turmoil ; 
 Sometimes the Snake around his enemy's neck 
 Locked in stifT rings his adamantine coil, 
 Until the Eagle, faint with pain and toil, 
 rifiiiitted liis strong flight, and near the sea 
 Liitiguidly fluttered, hopeless so to foil 
 His adversary, who then reared on high 
 Tfis rod and burning crest, radiant with victory.
 
 APPENDIX A. 409 
 
 "Then on tlie wliite edge of the bursting surge, 
 Where they liad sunk together, would the Snake 
 Relax his suifocating grasp, and scourge 
 The wind with his wild writhings ; for to break 
 That chain of torment, the vast bird would shake 
 The strengtli of his unconquerable wings 
 As in despair, and with his sinewy neck 
 Dissolve in sudden shock those linked rings, 
 Then soar — as swift as smoke from a volcano springs. 
 
 "Wile baffled wile, and strength encountered strength, 
 Thus long, but unprevailing : — the event 
 Of that portentous fight appeared at length : 
 Until the lamp of day was almost spent 
 It had endured, when lifeless, stark and rent. 
 Hung high that mighty Serpent, and at last 
 Fell to the sea, while o'er the continent, 
 With clang of wings and scream the Eagle past, 
 Heavily borne away on the exhausted blast." 
 
 I have repudiated the adverse criticism on Cicero's poetry which has 
 been attributed to Juvenal ; but, having done so, am bound in fairness 
 to state that which is to be found elsewhere in any later author of 
 renown as a classic. In the treatise " De Oratoribus " attributed to 
 Tacitus, and generally published with his works by him,— a treatise com- 
 menced probably in the last year of Vespasian's reign, and completed 
 only in that of Domitian, — Cicero as a poet is spoken of with a 
 severity of censure which the writer presumes to have been his 
 recognised desert. " For Cajsar," he says, " and Brutus made verses, 
 and sent them to the public libraries, not better indeed than Cicero, 
 but with less of general misfortune, because only a few people knew 
 that they had done so." This must be taken for what it is worth. The 
 treatise, let it have been written by whom it might, is full of wit and 
 is charming in language and feeling. It is a dialogue after the manner 
 of Cicero himself, and is the work of an author well conversant with 
 the subjects in hand. But it is, no doubt, the case that these two un- 
 fortunate lines which have been quoted became notorious in Rome 
 when there was a party anxious to put down Cicero.
 
 APPENDIX B. {See page 122.) 
 
 FROM THE BRUTUS — CA. XCII. AND XCIII. 
 
 " There were at that time two orators, Cotta and Hortensius, who 
 towered above all others, and incited me to rival them. The first 
 spoke with self-restraint and moderation, clearly and easily, expressing 
 liis ideas in appropriate language. The other was magnificent and 
 fierce ; not such as you remember him, Brutus, when he was already 
 failing, but full of life both in his words and actions. I then resolved 
 that Hortensius should, of the two, be my model, because I felt 
 myself like to him in his energy, and nearer to him in his age. I 
 observed that when they were in the same causes, those for Canuleius 
 and for our Consular Dolabella, though Cotta was the senior counsel, 
 Hortensius took the lead. A large gathering of men and the noise of 
 the Forum require that a speaker shall be quick, on fire, active, and 
 loud. The 3-ear after my return from Asia I undertook the charge 
 of causes that were honourable, and in that year I was seeking to 
 be Quajstor, Cotta to be Consul, and Hortensius to be Prfetor. Tlien 
 for a year I served as Quaestor in Sicily. Cotta after his Consulship 
 went as Governor into Gaul ; and then Hortensius was, and was con- 
 sidered to be, first at the bar. When I had been back from Sicily 
 twelve months I began to find that whatever there was within me 
 liad come to such perfection as it might attain. I feel that I am 
 speaking too mur'h of myself; but it is done not that you maybe 
 made to own my ability or my eloquence, — which is far from my 
 thoughts, — but tiiat you may see how great was my toil and my 
 industry. Then, when I lind been employed for nearly five years in
 
 APPENDIX B. 411 
 
 many cases and was accounted a leading advocate, I specially con- 
 cerned myself in conducting the great cause on behalf of Sicily,— the 
 trial of Verres, — when I and Hortcnsius were ^dile and Consul 
 designate. 
 
 " But as this discussion of ours is intended to produce not a mere 
 catalogue of orators but some true lessons of oratory, let us see 
 what there was in Hortensius that we must blame. Wlien he was 
 out of his Consulship, seeing that among past Consuls there was no 
 one on a par with him, and thinking but little of those who were 
 below consular rank, he became idle in his work to which from 
 boyhood he had devoted himself, and chose to live in the midst of 
 his wealth, as he thought a happier life, — certainly an easier one. 
 The first two or three years took off something from him. As the 
 gradual decay of a picture will be observed by the true critic, ' 
 though it be not seen by the world at large, so was it with his 
 decay. From day to day he became more and more unlike his old 
 self, failing in all branches of oratory, but specially in the rapidity 
 and continuity of his words. But for myself I never rested, struggling 
 always to increase whatever power there was in me, by practice of 
 every kind, especially in writing. Passing over many things in 
 the year after I was lEAilQ, I will come to that in which I was 
 elected first Prsetor, to the great delight of the public generally ; 
 for I had gained the good will of men, partly by my attention to 
 the causes which I undertook, but specially by a certain new strain 
 of eloquence, as excellent as it was uncommon, with which I spoke." 
 Cicero when he wrote this of himself was an old man, sixty-two 
 years of age, broken-hearted for the loss of his daughter. — to whom 
 it was, no doubt allowed among his friends to praise himself with 
 the garrulity of years because it was understood that he had been 
 unequalled in the matter of which he was speaking. It is easy for 
 us to laugh at his boastings ; but the account which he gives of his 
 early life and of the manner in which he attained the excellence for 
 which he had been celebrated, is of value.
 
 APPENDIX C. {See page 173.) 
 
 '■ There was still prevailing iu Rome at this time a strong feeling 
 that a growing taste for these ornamental luxuries was injurious to 
 the Ee23ublie, undermining its simplicity and weakening its stability. 
 We are well aware that its simplicity was a thing of the past, and 
 its stability gone. The existence of a Verres is proof that it was 
 so ; but still the feeling remained, — and did remain long after the 
 time of Cicero, — that these beautiful things were a sign of decay. 
 We know how conquering Rome caught the taste for them from 
 conquered Greece. " Grfecia capta ferum victorem cepit, et artes 
 Intulit agresti Latio." ^ Cicero submitted himself to this new 
 captivity readily, but with apologies, as shown in his pretended 
 abnegation of all knowledge of art. Two years afterwards in a 
 letter to Atticus, giving him instructions as to the purchase of 
 statues, he declares that he is altogether carried away by his 
 longing for such things, but not without a feeling of shame. "Nam 
 in eo genere sic studio efferimur ut abs te adjuvandi, ab aliis propre 
 reprehendi simus."'^ "Though you will help me, others I know 
 will blame me." The same feeling is expressed beautifully, but no 
 doubt falsely, by Horace when he declares, as Cicero had done, his 
 own indifference to such delicacies ; — 
 
 * Gems, marbles, ivory, Tuscan statuettes, 
 Pictures, gold plate, Gsetulian coverlets, 
 There are who have not. One there is, I trow, 
 Who cares not greatly if he has or no." •' 
 
 Horace, Kp.s. lih. li. 1. ^ Kt Att. lib. i. 8. 
 
 Horace, Ep.s. lih. ii. 11. 'I'lie translation is Conington's.
 
 APPENDIX C. 413 
 
 Many years afterwards in the time of Tiberius, Vellcius Paterculiis 
 says the same wlien lie is telling how ignorant Mummius was of 
 sculpture, who, when he had taken Corinth, threatened those who had 
 to carry away the statues from their places, that if they broke any 
 they should be made to replace them. " You will not doubt, however," 
 the historian says, " that it would have been better for the Eepublic 
 to remain ignorant of these Corinthian gems than to understand them 
 as well as it does now. That rudeness befitted the public honour better 
 than our present taste.'' ^ Cicero understood well enough with one side 
 of his intelligence, that as the longing for these things grew in the 
 minds of rich men, as the leading Romans of the day became devoted 
 to luxury rather than to work, the ground on which the Republic 
 stood must be sapped. A Marcellus or a Scipio had taken glory in 
 ornamenting the city. A Verres or even an Hortensius, — even a 
 Cicero, — was desirous of beautiful things for his own house. But still, 
 with the other side of his intelligence, he saw that a i:)erfect citizen 
 might appreciate art and yet do his duty ; might appreciate art, and 
 yet save his country. What he did not see was, that the temptations 
 of luxury, though compatible with virtue, are antagonistic to it. The 
 camel may be made to go through the eye of the needle ; — but it is 
 difficult. 
 
 » Veil. Pat. lib. i. xiii.
 
 APPENDIX D. {See page 212.) 
 
 PRO LEGE MANILIA — CA. X. AND XVI. 
 
 " Utinam, Quirites, virorum f or- 
 tium, atque innocentium copiam 
 tantam haberetis, ut h?ec vobis 
 deliberatio difiScilis esset, quem- 
 nam potissimum tantis rebus ac 
 tanto bello prseficiendum putare- 
 tis ! Nunc vero cum sit unus 
 Cn. Pompeius, qui non modo 
 eorum hominum, qui nunc sunt, 
 gloriam, sed etiam antiquitatis 
 memoriam virtute superarit ; 
 qu£e res est, quae cujusquam 
 animuni in hac causa dul)ium 
 f acere pu.-^.ct ? Ego enini sic 
 existirno, in summo imjieratore 
 quatuor has res iiiesse oi)ortero, 
 scientiam rei militaris, virtuteni, 
 uuctoritatem, felicitatem. Quia 
 igitur hoc honiine scientior 
 uinquani aut fiiit, aut esse dc- 
 buit ? qui e hido, atque pueri- 
 tia) disciplina, bello niaxiuio 
 atque acorriniis liostibus, ad 
 jjatris cxorcituiM atque in 
 iiiilititn (lisciiiliiiaiii profectus 
 est? {jui cxtrcMia pucritia miles 
 
 "I could wish, Quirites, that 
 there was open to you so large 
 a choice of men capable at the 
 same time, and honest, that you 
 might find a difficulty in decid- 
 ing who might best be selected 
 for command in a war so mo- 
 mentous as this. But now when 
 Pompey alone has surpassed in 
 achievements, not only those 
 who live, but all of whom we 
 have read in history, what is 
 there to make any one hesitate 
 in the matter ? In my opinion 
 there are four qualities to be 
 desired in a general, military 
 knowledge, valour, authority 
 and fortune. But whoever was 
 or was ever wanted to be more 
 skilled than this man, who, taken 
 fresh from school and from tlie 
 lessons of his boyhood, was sub- 
 jecteil to tlie discipline of his 
 fiither's army during one of our 
 severest wars, when our enemies 
 were strong against us ? In his
 
 APPENDIX D. 
 
 415 
 
 fuit sumiiii imperatoris ? in- 
 euute adolescentia maximi ipse 
 exercitus imperator ? qui Siepius 
 cum lioste conflixit, quam quis- 
 quuni cum ininiico coucertavit? 
 plura bell a gessit, quam cseteri 
 legerunt ? plures provincias con- 
 fecit, quam alii concupiverunt ? 
 cujus adolescentia ad scientiam 
 rei militaris non alienis pras- 
 ceptis, sed suis imperiis ; non 
 offensionibus belli, sed victoriis ; 
 non stipendiis, 8ed triumpbis est 
 erudita? Quod denique genus 
 belli esse potest, in quo ilium 
 non exercuerit fortuna reipub- 
 lic£B ? Civile ; Africanum ; Trans- 
 alpinum ; Hispaniense ; mistum 
 ex civitatibus atque ex bellico- 
 sissimis nationibus servile ; 
 navale bellum, varia et diversa 
 genera, et bellorum et hostium, 
 non solum gesta ab hoc uno, 
 sed etiam confecta, nidlam rem 
 esse declarant, in usu militari 
 positam, quse hujus viri scien- 
 tiam fugere posset. 
 
 earliest youth he served under 
 our greatest general. As years 
 went on he was himself in 
 command over a large army. 
 He has been more frequent in 
 fighting than others in quarrel- 
 ling. Few have read of so 
 many battles as he has fought. 
 He has conquered more Provinces 
 than others have desired to pil- 
 lage. He learned the art of war 
 not from written precepts but by 
 his own practice, not from re- 
 verses but from victories. He 
 does not count his campaigns, 
 but the triumphs which he has 
 won. What nature of warfare 
 is there in which the Eepublic 
 has not used his services ? 
 Think of our Civil war^ — of our 
 African war^ — of our war on the 
 other side of the Alps^ — of our 
 Spanish wars* — of our Servile 
 war^ — which was carried on by 
 the energies of so many mighty 
 people,- — and this Maritime war. 
 How many enemies had we, 
 
 ^ Civile ; when Sulla, with Poiiipey under him, was fighting with young 
 Marius and Cinna. 
 
 • "Africanum." When he had fought ^\-ith Domitius, the son-in-law of 
 Cinna and with Hiarbas. 
 
 ^ Transalpinum. During his march through Gaul into Spain, 
 
 * " Hispaniense." In which he conquered Sertorius. 
 
 5 " Servile ; " — the war with Spartacus, with the slaves and gladiators. 
 ^ "Navale Bellum ; " the war with the pirates.
 
 416 
 
 AVTENDIX D. 
 
 " Quare cum et bellum ita ne- 
 cessarium sit, ut negligi non 
 possit ; ita magnum, ut accura- 
 tissime sit administrandum ; et 
 cum ei imperatorem prseficere 
 possitis, in quo sit eximia belli 
 scientia, singularis virtus, cla- 
 rissima auctoritas, egregia for- 
 tuna ; dubitabitis, Quirites, quin 
 hoc tantum boni, quod vobis a 
 diis immortalibus obliituni et 
 datum est, in rempublicum con- 
 servandam atque auiplificandam 
 conferatis ? " 
 
 liow various were our contests ! 
 They were all not only carried 
 through by this one man, but 
 brought to an end so gloriously 
 as to show that there is nothing 
 in the practice of warfare which 
 has escaped his knowledge. 
 
 " Seeing therefore that this 
 war cannot be neglected ; that 
 its importance demands the ut- 
 most care in its adminstration, 
 that it requires a General in 
 whom should be found sure 
 military science, manifest valour, 
 conspicuous authority, and pre- 
 eminent good fortune, do you 
 doubt, Quirites, but that you 
 should use the great blessing 
 which the gods have given you 
 for the preservation and glory 
 of the Eepublic?" 
 
 On reading, however, the piece over again I almost doubt whether 
 there be any passages in it which should be selected as superior 
 to others.
 
 APPENDIX E. {See page 323.) 
 
 LUCAN, LIB. I. 
 
 "0 male Concordes, nimiaque cupi- 
 dine cajci, 
 Quid miscere juvat vires orbem- 
 
 que tenere 
 In medio." 
 
 " men so ill-fitted to agree, 
 men blind with greed, of what 
 service can it be that you should 
 join your powers, and possess the 
 world between you ? " 
 
 'Temporis angusti mansit Con- 
 cordia discors, 
 
 Paxque fuit non sponte ducum. 
 Nam sola futuri 
 
 Crassus erat belli medius mora. 
 Qualiter undas 
 
 Qui secat, et geminum gracilis 
 mare separat isthmos, 
 
 Nee patitur conferre f return ; si 
 terra recedat. 
 
 Ionium ^gseo frangat mare. 
 Sic, ubi sEeva 
 
 Arma ducum dirimens, miser- 
 ando funere Crassus 
 
 Assyrias latio maculavit san- 
 guine Carras." 
 
 " For a short time the ill-sorted 
 compact lasted, and there was a 
 peace which each of them ab- 
 horred. Crassus alone stood be- 
 tween the others, hindering for a 
 while the coming war, — as an 
 isthmus separates two waters and 
 forbids sea to meet sea. If the 
 morsel of land gives way, the 
 Ionian waves and the ^gean dash 
 themselves in foam against each 
 othei-. So was it with the arms 
 of the two chiefs when Crassus 
 fell, and drenched the Assyrian 
 Carraj with Roman blood." 
 
 " Dividitur ferro regnum ; popu- 
 lique potentis, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 "Then the possession of the 
 Empire was put to the arbitration 
 E E
 
 418 
 
 APPENDIX E. 
 
 Quse mare, quse terras, qua3 totum 
 possidet orbem, 
 Non cepit fortuna duos," 
 
 of the sword. The fortunes of 
 a people which possessed sea and 
 earth and the whole world were 
 not sufficient for two men." 
 
 " Tu nova ne veteres obscurent 
 
 acta triumphos, 
 Et victis ccdat piratica laurea 
 
 Gallis, 
 Magne, times ; te jam series, 
 
 ususque laborum 
 Erigit, impatiensque loci for- 
 tuna secundi. 
 Nee quemquam jam ferre potest 
 
 Csesarve priorem, 
 Pompeiusve parem. Quis jus- 
 
 tius induit arma, 
 Scire nef as ; magno se judice 
 
 quisque tuetur ; 
 Victrix causa deis placuit sed 
 
 victa Catoni. ^ 
 Nee coiere pares ; alter ver- 
 
 gentibus annis 
 In senium, longoque togje tran- 
 
 quillior usu 
 Dedidicit jam pace ducem ; 
 
 famajque petitor 
 Multa dare in vulgas ; totus 
 
 popularibus auris 
 Impel li, plausuque sui gaudcre 
 
 tlicutri ; 
 
 " You, Magnus, you, Pompeius, 
 fear lest newer deeds than yours 
 should make dull your old tri- 
 umphs, and the scattering of the 
 pirates should be as nothing to 
 the conquering of Gaul. The 
 practice of many wars has so 
 exalted you, Cassar, that you 
 cannot put up with a second 
 place. Caesar will endure no 
 superior ; but Pompey will have 
 no equal. Whose cause was the 
 better the poet dares not inquire ! 
 Each will have his own advocate 
 in history. On the side of the 
 conqueror the gods ranged them- 
 selves. Cato has chosen to follow 
 the conquered." 
 
 "But surely the men were not 
 equal. The one in declining years, 
 who had already changed his arms 
 for the garb of peace, had un- 
 learned the General in the States- 
 man, — had become wont to talk 
 to the people, to devote himself 
 to harangues ; and to love the 
 applause of his own theatre. He 
 
 ^ For the full understanding of tliis oft-quoted line the reader should make 
 himself ac(iuaintcd witli Cato's march across Libya after the death of 
 Pompcty, as told by I^ucau in his Otli book.
 
 APPENDIX E. 
 
 419 
 
 Nee reparare novas vires, mul- 
 
 tumque priori 
 Credere fortunas. Stat rnagni 
 
 nominis umbra." 
 
 lias not cared to renew his strength 
 trusting to his old fortune. There 
 remains of him but the shadow 
 of his great name," 
 
 "Sed non in Cacsare 
 
 tantum 
 Nomen erat, nee fama ducis ; sed 
 
 nescia virtus 
 Stare loco ; solusque pudor non 
 
 vincere bello. 
 Acer et indomitus ; quo spes, 
 
 quoque ira vocasset, 
 Ferre manum, et nunquam teme- 
 
 rando parcere ferro ; 
 Successus urgere suos ; instare 
 
 favori 
 Numinis." 
 
 LucAN, lib. 1. 
 
 "The name of Caesar does not 
 loom so large ; nor is his character 
 as a general so high. But there is a 
 spirit which can content itself with 
 no achievements ; there is but one 
 feeling of shame, — that of not 
 conquering; — a man determined, 
 not to be controlled, taking his 
 arms wherever lust of conquest 
 or anger may call him ; a man 
 never sparing the sword, creat- 
 ing all things from his own good 
 fortune, trusting always to the 
 favours of the gods. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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 R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor, 
 
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