THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 CICKKO. 
 Antique bust in tlie Vatican.
 
 ^INTRODUCTION TO CLASSICAL 
 LATIN LITERATURE 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON 
 
 PEOFESSOR OF THE GREEK LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE 
 tN ADELPHI COLLEGE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1904 
 
 •^larit
 
 COPTKIGHT, 1904, BY 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
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 TROW DIRECTOHr 
 
 PRINTINQ AND BOOKBINDtNO COMPANV 
 
 MEW YORK
 
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 /Dbost ©encrous of Colleagues 
 
 wbo bas maDe tbfs book 
 
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 <i^ .' i i-'-m"-^. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 £00K I 
 
 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 CHAPTBB PAGE 
 
 fq I. Traces of Early Latin Poetry and Prose . . 13 
 
 pj II. The Transition to Hellenism ..... 21 
 
 * III. Age of the Scipios and Cato 28 
 
 o IV. Ennius 32 
 
 "* V. Plautus 38 
 
 -• VI. Terence and his Friends 49 
 
 VII. Lost Works and Authors op the Republican Period 56 
 
 Chronological Tables 64 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VIII. The Time and the Man 69 
 
 IX. Cicero as an Orator 73 
 
 X. The Ciceronian Correspondence 80 
 
 XI. The Rhetorical Works 85 
 
 XII. The Philosophical Essays, and Other Works . . 89 
 
 XIII. C^SAR 98 
 
 XIV. Sallust and Nepos 104 
 
 XV. Marcus Terentius Varro 109 
 
 XVI. Catullus and his Friends 114 
 
 vii
 
 Vm CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVII. Lucretius . .^ . 126 
 
 XVIII. The Decay of Drama 137 
 
 XIX. Retrospect and Prospect 141 
 
 Chronological Tables . . . . . . . .143 
 
 BOOK III 
 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XX. Republic and Empire 
 XXI. Virgil. 
 XXII. LivY . 
 
 XXIII. Horace 
 
 XXIV. Ovid . 
 XXV. The Elegiac Poets 
 
 XXVI. The Aftermath 
 
 Chronological Tables 
 
 149 
 155 
 178 
 18G 
 203 
 215 
 223 
 
 228 
 
 BOOK IV 
 
 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXVII. The Early Empire 233 
 
 XXVIII. Seneca 239 
 
 XXIX. Contemporaries op Seneca 252 
 
 XXX. The Epic Poetry 200 
 
 XXXI. Martial and Juvenal 272 
 
 XXXIL Quintilian 281 
 
 XXXIII. The Plinies 287 
 
 XXXIV. Tacitus 295 
 
 Chronological Tables 307 
 
 Epilogue 310 
 
 INDEX 321
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Cicero .......... Frontispiece 
 
 Antique bust in the Vatican. 
 
 State Sacrifice at Rome 
 
 Antique relief in the Louvre. 
 
 Tomb of Scipio Barbatus, now in the Vatican 
 
 The Claudian Aqueduct 
 
 Monument of a Roman Vice-centurion . 
 From Baumeister. 
 
 Roman Warfare 
 
 Belief from the Trajan column. 
 
 General View of the Forum, with the Capitol 
 
 Julius Caesar ........ 
 
 Antique bust in the Capitoline Museum. 
 
 Falls of the Anio at Tivoli, the Ancient Tibur . 
 
 Latin Text of the Testament of Augustus . 
 On the temple wall at Ancyra. 
 
 Virgil, Horace, and Varius at the House of M^cenas 
 By Ch. F. Jalabert. 
 
 Melpomene, Virgil, and Clio ...... 
 
 Hadrumetum mosaic at Susa, Tunisia. 
 
 Georgics, IV., 118-124, and Illustration 
 From a Virgil manuscript in the Vatican. 
 
 .^NEiD, IV., 56-61, AND Illustration .... 
 From a Virgil manuscript in the Vatican. 
 
 Ancient Gate of the Citadel of Falerii 
 From a woodcut in Duruy's History of Kome. 
 
 Roman Ships ......••• 
 
 From the Trajan column. 
 
 PACING 
 I'AOE 
 
 17 
 1!) 
 
 32 
 
 42 
 
 73 
 
 98 
 
 l;32 
 152 
 
 155 
 
 160 
 
 166 
 
 172 
 
 182 
 
 219
 
 X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACING 
 PAGE 
 
 Augustus 226 
 
 Antique bust in the Capitoline Museum. 
 
 Nero's Living ToR«iiES 234 
 
 By Siemiradzki. 
 
 So-called Seneca ......... 244 
 
 Antique bronze bust from Herculaneum, now in Naples Museum. 
 
 Roman Soldiers Carrying the Golden Candlestick from 
 
 THE Temple at Jerusalem ....... 264 
 
 Relief on the Arch of Titus. 
 
 Interior View of the Coliseum ...... 273 
 
 Christian Martyrs in the Coliseum 294 
 
 By Gerome. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius 311 
 
 Equestrian statue on the Capitoline. 
 
 Hadrian 317 
 
 Antique bust in the Vatican.
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CLASSICAL 
 LATIN LITERATURE
 
 LATIN LITERATURE 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The various types of civilized European man, which 
 even in their older homes are steadily assimilating and 
 approaching each other, are upon our own continent, and 
 especially in our own land, swiftly fusing into one. It is 
 peculiarly important for the American, therefore, to study 
 the various currents that meet in ourselves. Teuton, 
 Norman and Kelt, Slav, Latin and Greek, are all in vary- 
 ing degree our ancestors. Moreover, it is doubly interest- 
 ing gradually to realize that most of these races have 
 already had, for at least two thousand years, a common, 
 unified, and unbroken history. All play a part in the 
 large story of European life. 
 
 So far as literary monuments are concerned, we attempt 
 here to outline the second chapter of that long story. 
 Naturally, a most needful preparation is a perusal of the 
 first. In other words, Latin literature should be ap- 
 proached after a sympathetic acquaintance with the master- 
 pieces of the Greek imagination. Indeed, the influence of 
 Hellenes and Romans upon ourselves is largely one. Such 
 an adjective as Graeco-Roman has often a fitness of its own. 
 Yet the contrasts between the two chief peoples of an- 
 tiquity make a striking and tempting theme. 
 
 The Greek whom we really know, in early literature, is 
 the Eastward Ionian. Counting himself, even in his 
 
 1
 
 2 INTRODUCTION" 
 
 Asian seats, an exile, he holds his home-ties lightly. He 
 wanders forth gladly for traffic, for adventure, to far-off 
 colonial settlements, or, especially if an artist, to the courts 
 of Greek tyrants and even of barbarian patrons. He is 
 awake to all impressions from the picturesque, varied, swift- 
 changing world about him. The contrast between his own 
 nature and that of other races strikes him forcibly. The 
 supreme mysteries of life and death, even, he faces with 
 wide-open eyes. Gods, dasmons, nymphs, he readily 
 shapes for himself, preferably in human form. Projecting 
 his own desires, loves, hates, into the infinite, the Greek 
 dreamer tells himself marvelous tales of divinities and 
 demigods. The myths of early Hellas are the delight of 
 childhood still. 
 
 The enjoyment of beauty, the power of expression, 
 awoke early. If the lonians learned, from the Phoenician 
 or elsewhere, their alphabet, the arts of trade, the way 
 across the stepping-stones of the ^gean to ever remoter 
 wandering, the yet bolder roving paths of the human 
 fancy, — they quickly bettered their teachings. So epic, 
 philosophic inquiry, lyric, prose chronicle, sprang up in 
 swift succession among the children of the myth -makers. 
 
 Of large statecraft there is little trace. Individualism 
 is excessive. The Asiatic cities, of kindred speech, re- 
 ligion, culture, lived out each its isolated and turbulent 
 life, to fall an early and easy prey to Oriental conquerors. 
 Of yet greater individual energy, and much creative pow- 
 er, with even less fitness for civic organism, we catch a 
 glimpse in the yEolic Greeks, especially on the lovely 
 island of Lesbos. 
 
 At Athens, in the century of Pericles, we find a larger 
 form of civic life, rushing to swift wreck, however, on the 
 reefs of selfish aggression, conquest, empire. Yet there 
 was time, barely time, for tragedy, most elaborate of 
 literary forms, to attain perfection. Comedy, political
 
 INTRODUCTION 3 
 
 history, oratory, philosophic speculation, found supreme 
 ex})ression in Aristophanes, Thukydides, Demosthenes, 
 Plato. The last is in spirit a great imaginative poet also. 
 
 Theocritos, and the Anthology, show us that the fresh 
 original imagination of early Hellas lived on far into the 
 decadent centuries. Indeed this creative power of the 
 Greek man is the supreme miracle of European history. 
 It is still to be seen in his sculpture and architecture no 
 less, while of his painting and music we have received 
 little more than a loving tradition. Of minor artists, such 
 as carvers of gems or decorators of vases, there seem to 
 have been legions, not merely in Periclean Athens, but in 
 many Greek lands and centuries. 
 
 The little Laconian garrison, encamped amid a host of 
 stubborn-hearted vanquished foes, of slaves with the spirit 
 of freemen, maintained itself wonderfully, but the wider 
 power and wealth thrust upon Sparta, as by accident, in 
 479 B.C. and again in 404 B.C., found her quite unfit to 
 use them. Her sluggish Dorian nature was excited, but 
 dazed by such widening vistas of duty, and she soon cowered 
 into her narrow shell again. The poets and other artists of 
 Lacouia had been, from the first, chiefly guests, of ^olic 
 or Ionian birth. 
 
 With all its unique genius, the Greek race failed to be- 
 come a dominant nation, or even an united free people. 
 It is not safe to attribute this lack chiefly to the peculiar 
 physical contour of their little peninsula, to the isolation 
 of each dale or hill-crest. The most peaceful and lasting 
 confederation in Europe unites the vales and peaks of 
 Switzerland. The lack of union among Greeks is at least 
 as marked in Ionia, or in Sicily. It was probably inherent 
 in the Hellenic nature. Politically they seem almost a 
 race of gifted children, who never accepted the restraints 
 of full manhood, the compromises of civic life. 
 
 In the ideal commonwealth there will be the utmost
 
 4 INTRODUCTIOK 
 
 individual freedom, the utmost encouragement of original 
 and creative genius, but all powers will be regarded as con- 
 secrated to the public service. 
 
 Rome grew up at the northernmost point of Latium, 
 pushed like a wedge into hostile territory, but strongly 
 protected by the Tiber, and uplifted upon the Palatine 
 and Capitoline. The names of Numa and Lars Porsena 
 are plainly monuments respectively of early Sabine and 
 Etruscan conquest, which must have left also permanent 
 elements in the population. Latian, however, the little 
 hill-city always remained. 
 
 Early Latium is a home of sturdy, unimaginative peas- 
 antry. Each man held firmly his ploughshare, or, if need 
 be, the pike, knowing little of music or song, nothing of 
 adventurous wandering, real or imagined. His gods were 
 but faint personifications of the most prosaic realities. 
 Janus presided over the changing year. Terminus over the 
 boundary-stone, Volutina is the fair goddess of corn-shucks. 
 Ancestors, like Picus and Faunus, may fitly be worshipped 
 at the family hearth as Lares, but few picturesque legends 
 grow up about the names. Each man's genius follows or 
 guides him through the sober phases of a monotonous life. 
 
 This absence of myth, of fancy, is the most striking trait 
 in the Roman nature. Their one poet who feels adequately 
 the reverent sympathy of a Wordsworth, or a Bryant, with 
 Nature, in her wilder and lonelier aspects, is a materialist 
 and an atheist. The one chronicler who has much of 
 Herodotos's grace as a story-teller has but a single type 
 of tale to tell. Heroic and stoical self-sacrifice for the 
 Fatherland is his constant theme. 
 
 Such a people will have to be taught not merely the 
 alphabet but the whole art of poetry : and they will hardly 
 surpass tlieir teachers. The concession that Virgil makes 
 for the plastic arts, for science, and even, too sweepingly.
 
 INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 for forensic oratory, might well have included his own 
 craft as well. He is thinking of Greeks, only, when he 
 cries : 
 
 Virgil's /Eneid, " Others will mould more deftly the breathing 
 
 VI., 847-53. bronze, I concede it, 
 
 Or from the marble block lead forth the face of the living : 
 Others excel in the pleading of causes : delineate better 
 Motions of heavenly bodies, and tell of the stars and their 
 risings. 
 Thou, oh Roman, remember to curb with thy empire the 
 nations. 
 These thine arts shall be, and of peace to impose the con- 
 ditions, 
 Sparing those who submit, but crushing in battle the 
 haughty." 
 
 This closing boast, also, is fully justified. While they 
 have much resemblance to the Spartans, the Romans differ 
 radically from them in this : When happy chance, and 
 their own unflagging discijjline, made them lords of La- 
 tinm, of Italy, of the Mediterranean world, they promptly 
 developed also the power and daring to hold firmly what 
 they had boldly won. We may disapprove their methods, 
 deplore their failure to create representative assemblies, 
 ridicule the attempt to govern the earth with the ma- 
 chinery of a town-meeting. The fact remains, that the 
 Romans accomplished this feat. 
 
 When the oligarchy of a few families decayed, the 
 dictators and emperors who succeeded them were Romans 
 still. The wealth wrung from scores of proud historic 
 races, now helpless provincials, was lavished on the im- 
 perial capital and its idle proletariat. Even the flexible 
 Greek language, with all the start given it by its unap- 
 proachable masterpieces, and later by Alexander's con- 
 quests, only maintained itself side by side with Latin. 
 When the political centre shifted eastward, it made room
 
 6 INTKODUCTION 
 
 for a religious primacy which remains in large measure to 
 the present hour. 
 
 Italy was indeed overrun by barbarians, and Eome itself 
 repeatedly sacked, in the fifth century a.d. Yet the By- 
 zantine empire, which in some fashion survived a thousand 
 years longer, was itself a Roman creation. Eome, then, 
 did at least build the bridge by which the salvage from 
 classical antiquity came across the age of Gothic conquest, 
 over the centuries of confusion and growing darkness, — to 
 the modern world. 
 
 Roman workers in every art had Greek masterpieces 
 constantly before them. Latin literature hardly begins 
 until the decadent Alexandrian age of Hellas was far ad- 
 vanced. Conscious study of style, direct imitation of 
 Hellenic models, even slavish translation, came first of all. 
 The Greek myths are coolly borrowed entire, and assigned 
 to Roman gods, whose attributes suggested a resemblance. 
 The wanderings of Heracles, Odysseus, ^neas, are ex- 
 tended into Italy. Even important gods, like Apollo, 
 Pluto, Proserpine, and others, are adopted, name and 
 myths alike, from the Hellenic pantheon. 
 
 Under all these conditions, the most surprising fact is, 
 that much of the peculiar Roman nature does nevertheless 
 come to expression in the classical Latin literature. The 
 steadfast patriotism of Romans, their gravity, a certain 
 Stoical reticence as to purely subjective emotion, informs 
 the work even of those authors who are most clearly in- 
 spired by the Greek muse. 
 
 Latin literature as a whole displays talent rather than 
 genius, good taste oftener than creative force. It bears to 
 the Greek somewhat the relation which the age of Anne 
 holds to the century of Shakespeare and Spenser. Above 
 all, the best authors and works are, as a rule, those most 
 fully imbued with the Greek spirit, often, as in the
 
 INTRODUCTION" 7 
 
 supreme example of Virgil, those most frankly imitative, 
 in plot and in detail, of Greek models. 
 
 Here we may discover a certain analogy to our own con- 
 ditions. America was so dominated by the language and 
 literature of England, that we remained timidly provincial 
 in this field long after political independence was won. 
 The sturdiest spirits of our folk, from Franklin to Lincoln, 
 have been much more absorbed in action than in literary 
 art. A master of expression may yet arise among us, to 
 be, like Dante or Goethe, the largest figure of the national 
 life : but he certainly has not yet appeared and been 
 recognized. 
 
 Meantime, it may be especially instructive for many men 
 and women, in an age when poetry seems forceless and the 
 imagination enfeebled, to discover, if we can, how the 
 Eoman attained to taste, to skill, to adequate self-utter- 
 ance, hampered, or guided, by models too familiar and too 
 mighty to be ignored. 
 
 Even a Cicero or a Horace is not ashamed to speak of 
 letters as an avocation for leisure hours, or as a pastime 
 too trivial for the greatest of men. Though not true of 
 these two Eomans, it is indeed true of their people, that 
 their contributions to the art of government, civic organi- 
 zation, law, even their road-building and engineering gen- 
 erally, suiEce to lift them to a proud pre-eminence, quite 
 apart from their record in the fine arts. Indeed, we must 
 always remember, that but for the mighty ark which 
 Caesar and Augustus shaped, the precious records of Greek 
 life might themselves never have come down to us, but 
 might have vanished utterly when the destructive hordes 
 of our ancestry swept again and again over the fair lands 
 of Southern Europe. Our hearty admiration for the great 
 Julius, and the race whom he typifies, should color every 
 line in which we record, as here, but one side, perhaps a 
 lesser phase, of their great gift to af tertime.
 
 8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 We indicate here the needful equipment of one shelf in a very 
 modest school or departmental library, for constant use with such a 
 book as this. Some encyclopaedic works like the " Britannica," the 
 Smith " Dictionary of Antiquities," etc., may surely be taken for 
 granted. Among the larger histories of early Rome, available in 
 English, Ihne's is perhaps even more helpful to the young student than 
 Mommsen's masterpiece, since it gives the traditional account, with 
 some fulness, before attacking it with the destructive weapons of modern 
 scholarship. Of single-volume school histories the best packed is prob- 
 ably Shuckburgh's, but it stops at Actium. The large page of Kiepert's 
 Classical Atlas makes it available, almost like a wall-map, for a whole 
 class. 
 
 The teacher's desk needs at least one large history of Latin litera- 
 ture. The completest references to the sources, with frequent brief 
 quotations also, are in Teuffel, which is translated with fair accuracy 
 by Warr. Much more readable, in German, is Ribbeck's " Geschichte 
 der Romischen Dichtung," or, in French, Fatin's " fitudes sur laPoesie 
 Latine." Mommsen's occasional chapters on literature are illuminat- 
 ing. Sellar's "Roman Poets" was left incomplete, but nearly covers 
 the Augustan age as well as the Repuijlic. It is judicious, scholarly, 
 somewhat soporific. The large work of G. A. Simcox is wilful, but 
 will l)e found stimulating, quite copious, and often doubly useful for 
 its references. 
 
 Above all, the classical authors tliemselves should be available, in 
 faithful literary versions, indicating clearly the lines or sections of the 
 Latin or Greek works, for those who do not read the original with 
 «ase. Such a book as Shuckburgh's "• Polybios," or Clough's "Plu- 
 tarch," will always have a hundred readers for one who can even con- 
 sult the original text on a doubtful detail. Another Greek work, the 
 history of early Rome by Dionysios the Halicarnassian, ought to be 
 accessible, for though writing in Rome, and in Livy's time, he is curi- 
 ously independent of him. 
 
 For Livy we have the Bohn Library version. Extremely useful, 
 also, is the complete prose translation of Virgil's works by Conington, 
 published in one inexpensive volume by Lee. Other translations will 
 be mentioned under the several authors. 
 
 For those who read Latin we earnestly recommend the use also of 
 text editions of other than school authors, c.gr., Aulus Gellius and 
 Macrobius, in the Teubner series. The sixth volume of Biihrens's
 
 INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 " Poetae Latini Minores," in the same series, contains all the non- 
 dramatic fragments of Naevius, Ennius, Lucilius, and many others. 
 A complete Livy tills but five Teubncr volumes, the fragments of the 
 lost historians, including the Annales Maximi, Cato, etc., only one. 
 Special students will of course require Ribbeck's " Fragmenta Tragi- 
 corum " and " Comicorum," and the various volumes of the Iwan 
 Miiller " Handbuch." Peter's Chronological Tables is a most excel- 
 lent German work.
 
 f c:
 
 BOOK I 
 
 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 (TO 100 B.C.)
 
 CHAPTER I 
 TRACES OF EARLY LATIN POETRY AND PROSE 
 
 The Romans nndonbtedly received their alphabet from 
 the neighboriug Greek city, Cumse. This Campaiiian 
 colony, though Enbamn Chalkis was its true metropolis, 
 took its name from Asiatic Kyme, which regarded itself 
 as the special heir of the Trojan legend and stock. The 
 influence of Cnmae is often seen in the early legends, notably 
 in the tale of the Sybilline books, which were probably a 
 collection of Greek oracles. The strange later adoption of 
 a Trojan fugitive, ^neas, as the ancestor of Romulus, may 
 have in part the same explanation. 
 
 Writing was in use very early. Polybios, a judicious 
 and scholarly Greek, saw at Rome in the second century 
 before Christ, and translates, the archaic text of a treaty 
 509 B.C. with Carthage, ascribed to the first year of 
 
 Poiyb., m., 23. the Republic. Cicero, Livy, and Dionysios, 
 ^^s.'^sl^ ' believed they had seen the original texts of 
 Livy, iv., 7, 20; yarious treaties, on ox-hides, columns, or 
 
 vii 3. 
 
 Diony'sios, iv., tcmplc-wall, dating from the fifth century 
 
 26, 58. before Christ, or even from Servius Tullius's 
 
 and Tarquin's day. As to the extreme antiquity of these 
 
 memorials they were probably deceived. Our few inscrip- 
 
 ions dating back to the fifth century before Christ are in 
 
 uistic form which an Augustan scholar could not 
 
 » • ■''■ "^ Q ftd y and would hardly have recognized as Latin at all. 
 
 The first large mass of writing which we can date with 
 certainty is the great code, known as the Laws of the 
 
 13 
 
 ^^^^ions di
 
 14 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 Twelve Tables, composed and promulgated by Appins 
 Claudius and the other decemvirs, in 451-450 B.C. This 
 ,, ,,, ^ code was long used as a first reader in 
 schools, and its influence in moulding and 
 fixing the prose style has been compared to that of Luther's 
 Bible. The fragments cited by later authors cannot be 
 safely restored to the original forms, but should be care- 
 fully studied as records of social conditions. Though Livy 
 especially emphasizes the previous visit of an embassy in 
 Athens, the Latian local color is strong, and we clearly 
 have in the main a simple record of previous usage or 
 *' common law." 
 
 ''A beam built into a house or vine-trellis you mustn't 
 pull out of its socket " : — i.e., even if it be your property, 
 and stolen. Here we get at once a clear sketch of a rural 
 and thrifty folk. " Women shall not scratch their cheeks, 
 nor make lamentation at a funeral," is truly Eoman Stoi- 
 cism. The provisions for seizing a debtor, exhibiting him 
 for redemption on three market-days, then cutting him 
 up, seem cold-blooded indeed, despite the assurance that 
 the creditors, in fact, always sold him whole, and divided 
 up only the proceeds. The protection against him " who 
 sings a bad song " might assure us that this grim folk had 
 already songs, and some discrimination as to musical ren- 
 dition ; but the allusion is said to be merely to spells or 
 incantations, sometimes even to libel, for which our In- 
 dians have a similar idiom : " A little bird sang in my ear." 
 Perhaps we should not translate carmen as *'song" at 
 all. It may mean also ''formula, aphorism, any phrase 
 in fixt form." The forbidding of all rites for a ma n^ 
 *' slain by Jove's thunderbolt" shows an abject i'eve|^HM| 
 ence very remote from the too familiar treatment of gods^^H 
 in the Homeric poems. The traitor, first scourged, then 
 **hung on a tree of evil omen," reminds ns effectively 
 which virtue Rome set highest of all. A terrible and
 
 TRACES OF EARLY LATIN POETRY AND PROSE 15 
 
 famous example had been set by Brutus, whose own 
 sous had conspired to restore the Tarquins. A father 
 ,, ,, might thrice over sell his child. But a 
 
 Ulvy, II., 4-5; J 1 , T • , •! • 
 
 Virgil, /Eneid, son, once detected in striking a parent, 
 vi.. 817-23. ^^g „ devoted to the gods of the family " : 
 whether immolated, or in some fashion outlawed or en- 
 slaved, may be debated. 
 
 The question whether there was any truly national 
 poetry antedating the Greek influences has been interest- 
 ingly discussed by Macaulay. His own spirited rhymes, 
 at any rate, are merely free paraphrases from Livy, a 
 genial creative author well-read in Herodotos, and we are 
 quite without direct evidence of any such purely Roman 
 idylls. Cicero, it is true, says regretfully, "Would that 
 Cicero, Brutus, thosc songs Were extant, which Cato says, in 
 75- his Origines, used to be sung in praise of 
 
 tation", i'.!''"'; iHustrious licroes, at feasts, by the several 
 '^•' ^- banqueters, many centuries before his (Cato's) 
 
 own time." It is but a doubly hearsay statement, for even 
 Cato's age had no such songs preserved : else Cicero, who 
 had the Origiiies before him, would have cited them. 
 Apud Auium Indeed it is Cato again who remarks, per- 
 aeiiium, xi., haps more accurately : "The poetic art was 
 *' ^' nowise in honor. If anyone was interested 
 
 in it, or devoted himself to feasts, he was called a 
 ' vagabond." 
 
 The poet is actually nameless tn early Rome. The very 
 \fovdi poeta is borrowed from the Greek, and vates, bard, 
 used with pride by Horace, formerly meant soothsayer, 
 probably a reminder that rhythm was first attained in 
 oracular utterances. These banqueters' songs were, then, 
 at best, mere improvisations, without poetic quality 
 or permanence. The "modest boys" mentioned by 
 Varro, Cicero's contemporary, as introduced at feasts, 
 to sing, "with or without the pipes, songs in honor
 
 IG THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 of the ancestors," cannot be assigned to any particular 
 century. 
 
 Funerals were elaborate, for the Twelve Tables had to 
 curtail the usages of grief. Women were hired to sing the 
 ncetiia or dirge. In this case again we have no fragments, 
 even, to quote. We cannot assert that it was a poetic 
 composition. 
 
 The orations at funerals are sharply criticised by 
 Cicero, Brutus, Cicero and Livy as most mendacious, indeed 
 . .'^' ^^:.. as the chief source for distortions and cor- 
 
 Livy, viii., 40, 4. 
 
 Plutarch, Fabi- ruptious of historic fact. Plutarch had read 
 "*' ^ '• the Encomium of the great Fabius upon his 
 
 own son. Some transcripts of these eulogies may well 
 have been preserved in great houses, but if so they mostly 
 390 B.C. perished, like nearly all other records, in the 
 
 Cf. Livy, vi., I. great sack of liome by the Gauls. In any 
 case, they had no great literary value. 
 
 The general belief is, that the early Latins were as 
 nearly strangers to the Muses as any people well can be. 
 The meagre fragments offered us, certainly, are unin- 
 spired indeed. A charm for footache, to be sung thrice 
 nine times, spitting and touching the ground, may be 
 
 translated : 
 
 "Earth, take the pest to thee! 
 Health, tarry here with me I" 
 
 A farmer's maxim is quite as rude as our rendering: 
 
 "Winter dust and muddy spring 
 Big hai'vest, child, will surely bring." 
 
 The songs of the Fratres Arvales, and other primeval 
 hymns, have been transmitted in a form quite unintelli- 
 gible. They are cniofly appeals to the rustic gods by name, 
 and are mere priestly incaptations, uttered in spring as a 
 blessing on the cornfields. Neither in them, nor in the 
 versified epitaphs found in the tomb of the Scipios, is
 
 
 p 
 
 lli,.;,,:,,l.i,;;.i:i.,l!l.';i':iiii |iii:lliilii;ili'li;ii;;:.,i.':,l::;iii:. 
 
 i'^m
 
 TRACES OF EARLY LATIN POETRY AND PROSE 17 
 
 tliere anything like poetic fancy. A single example of 
 these latter will be convincing : 
 
 a8o B.C. Cornelius Lucius |I Scipio Barbatus, 
 
 Son of a father Gnaivos, 
 Wliose form unto liis nature 
 Consul, censor and a'rlile 
 Taurasia, Cisauna, 
 Reduced Lucania wholly, 
 
 A man both wise and valiant. 
 Was excellently fitted. 
 He became among you. 
 And Samnium he conquered, 
 And hostapfes exacted. 
 
 The best early verse quotable is, however, an epitaph, 
 upon a woman. It has a certain pathetic power due to 
 its absolute simplicity. 
 
 " Stranger, I say but little: pause and read. 
 
 This is a lovely dame's unlovely tomb. 
 
 The name her parents gave was Claudia. 
 
 Her husband she did love with all her heart. 
 
 Two sons she bore him. One of these on earth 
 
 She leaves, the other under earth she laid. 
 
 Of gentle speech she was, and gracious mien. 
 
 She kept her house, span wool. All's said. Farewell." 
 
 The original of this inscription has disappeared. It may 
 be only fair to remark, that, though archaic in some of 
 its forms, it is not in the okl Saturnian verse peculiar 
 to earliest Latin poetry, but in Iambic trimeter, a well- 
 known form of Greek rhythm. Of the exquisite Hellenic 
 grace lavished, in all ages, on the dead, we have many ex- 
 amples in the Greek Anthology. Indeed, Professor Momm- 
 sen argues that the use of metrical epitaphs was borrowed 
 by the Scipios and others directly from the Greeks. 
 
 Perhaps every people indulges in rude banter, and caus- 
 tic wit, in such times of merriment as the harvest home 
 and the wedding. Whether the '' Fescennine license " 
 took its name from the Etrurian town of Fescennium, or 
 from the crude emblems of virility displayed, in Latium
 
 18 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 as iu Attica, with processional songs, at the rustic festival, 
 is disputable. Horace's sketcli is famous. 
 
 Horace Epis- * ^^^^ sturdy farmers of the ancient days, 
 ties, li., I., V88. Content with little, when their grain was 
 '39-46- stored, 
 
 Relieving by a festal time their frames 
 And hearts that toiled in hope of rest at last, 
 With lads that shared their task, and faithful wife, 
 Offered to Earth a pig, milk to Silvanus, 
 And proffered to the Genius wine and flowers. 
 Who still is mindful of our fleeting life. 
 Invented so, the license Feseennine 
 Flung, in alternate verses, rustic gibes." 
 
 In this dialogue, naturally united with a rude instinc- 
 tive mimicry all but universal, some germ of drama may 
 he discovered. A much-discussed chapter of Livy de- 
 Livy vii. a. scribes the first impulse to real acting as 
 brought to Rome by Etrurian mountebanks 
 in 364 B.C. To the earliest form of actual plays Livy 
 seems to give the name of Satura. Into the dispute over 
 this word, and its connection, if any, with the Satyr-play, 
 or semi-comic afterpiece of Greek tragedy, we must not 
 enter. 
 
 The banter, says Horace, grew to libellous slander, and 
 was curbed by severe laws. This was doubtless when the 
 city with its political factions grew up. So in Athens 
 comedians were forbidden to name living citizens from the 
 stage. 
 
 That the "chaffing" of the bridegroom at a Roman 
 wedding might far exceed any modern freedom is illustrated 
 in Catullus's Epithalamium, especially a passage beginning: 
 
 "And now not long shall silent be 
 Saucy Feseennine raillery. "
 
 y. 

 
 TRACES OF EARLY LATIN POETRY AND PROSE 19 
 
 The Atellan farce, borrowed from Oampaiiiii, was more 
 distinctly dramatic from the first, and quite as vulgar. 
 Stock characters, like Clown and Pantaloon, who are still 
 Italian favorites, appear in countless variations. From the 
 Sick Pig, Well Pig, Goat, She-ass, the subjects rise through 
 Miser, Fisherman, Innkeeper, to Judgment of Life and 
 Death, or even travesties on Greek myths like Marsyas, 
 Heracles, Agamemnon. The fragments indicate that we 
 have lost an extremely coarse vivid picture of low life. It 
 was not avowedly realistic, the scene being always laid in 
 Atella, a sort of typical Fooltown, like the Greek Ab- 
 dera. Of idealism there is no trace. 
 
 But we must leave this region of mere surmise, to name 
 the first professional author in Eome, another famous Appius 
 Claudius, consul in 307 and 296 B.C. His statesmanship, 
 and his engineering works, like the Appian Way and Clau- 
 dian Aqueduct, are better remembered than his words. 
 His speech against an ignoble peace with King Pyrrhus 
 was preserved till Cicero's day. From his book of Senten- 
 ticB, or Aphorisms, in the old Saturnian verse, only three 
 curt examples survive. One is still current : 
 
 " Each for himself must be 
 His fortune's architect." 
 
 Appius had scholarly tastes also. He it was who dropped 
 Z from the seventh place to the end of the alphabet, thus 
 making room for the distinction of G from C. But he 
 seems, like his people, too busy with "graver matters" to 
 be a producer of mere literature. 
 
 At any rate, the native Latin growth, weak or sturdy, 
 was overwhelmed in the third century before Christ by the 
 influence of Hellenism. From that time on we have for 
 long centuries little or no trace of truly native poetry. 
 
 The Saturnian metre was the favorite before Greek in-
 
 20 THE REPUBLICAN" AGE 
 
 fluence brought in the classic rhythms. Its basis is a verse 
 of three heavy or stressed syllables. Two such verses had 
 apparently united long before to form the Greek hexameter. 
 So too in the " Niebelungenlied " we have the measure, 
 
 "Forfis in ancient legends || are m4ny m4rvels t61d." 
 
 Our nursery rhyme, 
 
 " The qu^en was in the pdrlor efiting br^ad and h6ney, " 
 
 represents the same widely used rhythm. There is, how- 
 ever, much variation in the actual structure of the Satur- 
 nian verse. The quantitative element seems less prominent 
 than in the poetry written later under Greek influences. 
 To the latter we must presently turn. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Here as everywhere tlie author is constantly indebted to Schanz, 
 *' Geschichte der Romischen Litteratur " (in Miiller's " Handbuch der 
 Klassischen Alterthumswissenschaft "), a work which should by all 
 means be recast in English. The classical scholar will, of course, 
 turn to Wordsworth's or Allen's collection of fragments from the 
 archaic Latin. Mommsen's history deals also, most learnedly, with 
 literary problems. For the Saturuian metre there is an exhaustive 
 essay by Professor Lindsay in the American Journal of Philology, Vol. 
 XIV., where all the extant fragments are cited. But this whole field 
 is given over to learned investigation and polemic discussion. If there 
 was any real indigenous literature in Latium we shall never see it.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE TRANSITION TO HELLENISM 
 
 The war with Tareutum and King Pyrrhus must have 
 
 brought many captive Greeks to Rome, and the influence 
 
 of Pyrrhus's own superior culture and grace 
 
 on the ruder Latin nature is indicated in 
 
 many tales of the time. But much more was the first 
 
 great war with Carthage decisive of the future. To cope 
 
 with her African foe Rome had to build a 
 
 series of great fleets. Sicily, long the most 
 
 luxurious and splendid of Hellenic lands, was the centre 
 
 of the strife, and the chief prize of the victors. From this 
 
 time forward commercial relations, at least, with Greek 
 
 cities must have been manifold and constant. The Latin 
 
 peasant could never again return to his simple rustic life. 
 
 The Roman nature still resisted these influences, indeed, 
 
 for a time. Perhaps the uninspired couplet of Licinius, 
 
 centuries later, is accurate enough. 
 
 Apud Aulum "In the. second Punic war to Romulus' wild 
 
 Gelllum, jtvii., warlike race, 
 
 *'• '♦5* With her winged feet the Muse drew nigh, 
 
 and found a resting-place. ' ' 
 
 There is a curious contrast, and a grotesque parallelism, 
 in the beginnings of the two classic literatures : for Latin 
 letters also offer us, first of all, an Homeric epic. 
 
 AXDRONICUS. 
 
 Livius Androuicns came to Rome as a prisoner of 
 war, and therefore as a slave, from Grecian Tareutum, 
 
 31
 
 22 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 probably in 273 }^.c., being then perhaps a child of 
 six or so. After his emancipation he gained a living by 
 teaching Greek and Latin : though nowise learned in 
 either. His translation of the Odyssey was made to supply 
 tlie grievous lack of Latin texts. It was in rough Satur- 
 nians, and even the few fragments preserved betray at 
 times a surprising ignorance of Homer's meaning. Yet 
 this version appears to have been a school text-book still in 
 Horace Epist., Horacc's boyliood. Even AuhisGellius found 
 «., 1, 69. j^jj q](J copy in the library, and quotes for us 
 
 the first line : 
 
 " Virum miki, Camena, || insece versutum.** 
 
 The use of the purely Italian Camena, for Muse, is char- 
 acteristic. We find also Saturn, Neptune, Mercury, etc., 
 and this masquerade of Greek gods under Eoman names 
 has continued, especially among Homeric translators, even 
 down to Lord Derby and William Cullen Bryant. The 
 two score lines we have from Andronicus's Avork are mostly 
 cited by the Latin grammarians. Thus to prove that puer, 
 boy, was once of common gender, an appeal to Hera (Juno) 
 as " Sanda puer Saturni" (holy child of Saturn) is quoted. 
 
 Why did Andronicus translate the Odyssey, not the 
 Iliad ? Probably because Odysseus's wanderings seemed 
 to include Sicily, and even Italy. The neighboring cities 
 of Tusciilum and Prreneste claimed the hero's son by 
 Circe, Telcgonos, as their founder. The Latin version 
 may have been as bold in translating the geographical 
 allusions of Homer as it certainly was in dealing with his 
 gods. The claim of the Romans to Trojan origin seems to 
 have arisen a little later. 
 
 In 240 r..r. Andronicus produced a tragedy and a 
 comedy. Botli were translations or adaptations. The 
 attempt was apparently made then, for the first time, to 
 imitate the quantitative rhythms of the Greek originals. 
 
 \
 
 THE TRANSITION TO HELLENISM 23 
 
 The decided success of the performance made the fash- 
 ion a permanent one for centuries. The meagre frag- 
 ments of Andronicus's plays indicate a 
 
 LIvy vll. 3* X ^ 
 
 decided advance over the Odyssey version. 
 The subjects for tragedy are taken chiefly from the Trojan 
 cycle. His comedies were doubtless borrowed from the 
 school of Meuander and Philemon, well known to us 
 through Plautus and Terence, but hardly anything from 
 them survives. The boastful soldier, lineal ancestor of 
 Falstaff and Dugald Dalgetty, appeared first on the Roman 
 stage in Andronicus's play " Grladiolus " (The Dagger), 
 
 So far as the Hellenistic tragedy in Rome is concerned, 
 we may best say a general word on the subject at once. 
 The five leading names are Andronicus, N^evius, Ennius, 
 Pacuvius, Attius. These five lives successively overlap 
 each other, and the youthful Cicero often conversed with 
 Attius in his old age. With the latter the fashion decayed, 
 though various later writers still composed tragedies, more 
 or less original, rather as rhetorical exercises than for act- 
 ual production in the theatre. The rise of gladiatorial 
 sports, and the horrors of the civil wars, hastened the end. 
 
 No entire tragedy, no considerable fragments of any, 
 survive from the republican age. In no case is it pos- 
 sible to restore with certainty the entire plot of a play. 
 The attempt has indeed been made, with great learn- 
 ing and ingenuity, but with most uncertain results. The 
 chief essay of this kind is by Ribbeck, in his book "The 
 Roman Tragedy." He combines boldly, with our Latin 
 remnants, fragments from lost Greek plays on the same 
 subjects, the brief "fables" of a late writer Hyginus, 
 which are thought often to show a dramatic origin, and 
 various other hints. Ribbeck has certainly done one 
 real service : he has made the perusal of these tantalizing 
 fragments far more interesting, and even profitable. 
 Our knowledge of the manifold variations in the retell-
 
 24 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 ing of the old myths is sharpened. But we shall probably 
 never read entire one of these Graeco-Roman tragedies of 
 republican times. We possess only the group of turgid 
 declamatory dramas bearing, perhaps rightly, the name of 
 Seneca. But we stray from Andronicus. 
 
 Much more comes to our ears, in credible or incredible 
 E.g., Livy, vii., fomi, as to the career of this Greek freed- 
 
 *• man in Rome. On one or two occasions his 
 
 processional hymns were highly honored, and performed 
 Livy. xxvu.. 37. in public to avert grave dangers from the 
 
 B.C. 307. state. Cicero chronicles a remarkable revival 
 accorded to two of his dramas, the " Clytaemnestra " and the 
 Cicero, Ad Fam., '' Trojan Horsc," with immense outlay and 
 
 vii.,i. B.C.55. hundreds of performers, to inaugurate Pom- 
 pey's fine stone theatre. But he is, after all, a lost author, 
 whose importance came to him, perhaps, by good luck, as 
 the shrewd and thrifty leader of a great transitional move- 
 ment. Patronized by the great, catering to the amuse- 
 ments of high and low alike, he ill deserves the honored 
 names of Roman and poet. 
 
 N^vius. 
 
 Our next author, though possibly not Roman by birth, 
 is no hungry Greekling : a gallant soldier, not a school- 
 master and actor : not a client, but a bold critic, of the 
 nobility. 
 
 As a playwright, he at least combined several Greek plots 
 in one, and was the first to write serious plays also on 
 Roman subjects, which must have been his own. Of these 
 fabulcB prcBtextatce, or dramas in the toga, one celebrated 
 a victory of Marcellus over the Gauls in 223 B.C., so was as 
 boldly up-to-date as Aischylos's " Persians,'' which de- 
 scribed the fight at Salamis to an audience most of whom 
 had beheld the struggle in the strait. Probably Naevius,
 
 THE TRANSITION TO HELLENISM 25 
 
 like Aischylos, merely introduced a messenger who gave an 
 account of the battle. Indeed, the one surviving line is 
 
 " With life unburied, home with joy returned." . . . 
 
 A battle-scene like those in Shakespeare's "Henry V." 
 would hardly have been seriously attempted by the classic 
 dramatist. 
 
 A bolder venture still was the production of comedies 
 with slashing allusions to political questions of the hour. 
 Such a reference was the famous line attacking a leading 
 family : 
 
 " Metelli for her consuls are the doom of Rome." 
 
 But our sturdy poet could not play the part of political 
 satirist, like an Athenian Aristophanes, with impunity. 
 Despite such ringing words as 
 
 " With the speech of liberty, at Liber's festival we'll speak," 
 
 a consul Metellus threw Naevius into prison. Here he had 
 6 B c (?) ^^® quiet sympathy of Plautus, who makes 
 one of his Greek characters say : 
 
 Miles QlorioBus, 
 V8S. 212-13. 
 
 *• A barbarous poet, so they tell me, props his 
 chin upon his hand, 
 While a pair of guardsmen still at every 
 hour before him stand." 
 
 Here Naevius languished, long enough to compose two 
 
 dramas. Finally released by intercession of the tribunes 
 
 of the plebs, he perhaps had a relapse into 
 
 insolence. When Scipio had just conquered 
 
 Hannibal, the ill-timed gibe was uttered : 
 
 "He whose deeds are now so famous, to all 
 Aullus Qellius, nations heralded, 
 
 vii., 8, 5. gy jjjg father from his sweetheart's coatless 
 
 onee was homeward led ! " 
 
 At any rate, Nsvius died the next year in exile, at 
 201 B.C. Utica.
 
 26 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 The work of this manly poet which we would most 
 
 eagerly recover is an epic, or perhaps rather a rhythmical 
 
 chronicle, of the first Punic war. The first of the seven 
 
 books dealt with earlier history. Trojan yEneas's arrival 
 
 in Italy was mentioned. It is interesting to note that this 
 
 .„, . , whole legend of ^neas's wanderings is post- 
 
 vide infra, p. i68. • t^- U ■ +• f 4-1 i ^ 
 
 Homeric. It was the invention oi the later 
 
 Greek poets that he wandered to Hesperia. Many dis- 
 cordant forms of the myth are alluded to by Dionysios the 
 historian and others. The tale of Romulus was already 
 fixed in popular belief. Hence in early accounts, includ- 
 ing the poems of both Naevius and Ennius, Romulus is 
 ^neas's son, or the son of his daughter. Cato and others 
 discovered the gap in the chronology, of over four cen- 
 Tro '8 fall turies, and a later age invented, or borrowed, 
 
 1184 B.C. to fill it up, the long line of royal Albans be- 
 
 Rome founded, tweeii the two founders. Even the love af- 
 
 ^^^ ' ' fairs of ^neas and Dido are clearly alluded 
 
 to in Naevius's epic fragments. Here we touch a topic to 
 which we shall often return : the constant indebtedness of 
 Virgil to each and all of his forerunners. 
 
 The poetic value of this martial chronicle was perhaps 
 not great. Certainly the later age, while honoring its 
 patriotic spirit, found it crude. The Saturnian often 
 lends itself to curt and picturesque statement. 
 
 "The Roman crossed to Malta: || from shore to shore the island 
 He harried, burned and ravaged, {| and finished up the 
 matter. " 
 
 The very choice of the old metre does honor to Nsevius's 
 heart, probably also to his judgment. Even the half-en- 
 vious Horace confesses the great popularity of the old 
 poet stilk Of course his career proves that he was no op- 
 ponent of Hellenism. Indeed the very first verse invokes 
 the Muses :
 
 THE TRANSITION TO IfRLLENISM 27 
 
 ♦* Ye nine harmonious sisters, of Jove who are the daugh- 
 ters. . . ." 
 
 The release of Naevins by the tribunes indicates his full 
 
 Roman citizenship. Gellius, quoting his epi- 
 Qelllus, 1; 24, 2. . -, ,,r^ • i \ l- » 
 
 taph, criticises its " Campanian hauglitiness. 
 On this slender hint his Latiaii birth has been denied. 
 That Ngevius himself speaks in the epigram is, of course, 
 no proof of its authorship. It may quite as well be from 
 the pen of Varro, who made a collection of portraits and 
 added metrical elogia. Yet the spirit is no doubt Naevian. 
 It is perhaps the last time we shall hear the old rhythm. 
 
 '* If it were fit immortals || for mortal men should sorrow, 
 Then well may the Camenje || mourn Ntevius the poet. 
 So since he has been added || unto the wealth of Orcus, 
 At Rome men have forgotten |1 to speak the Latin language." 
 
 If we have given this early lost poet more space than his 
 scant remaining verses justify, it is but due to the fearless 
 outspoken man, citizen, soldier, and artist. There are too 
 few like him in later days. Rarely indeed does the Roman 
 singer scorn patronage, defy the mighty, and assert the 
 freedom or dignity of his guild. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 We are still in the region where only special students can move 
 freely, and they only to radical disagreements. For the fragments see 
 Bahrens's " Poetae Minores," Vol. VI., and Ribbeck's twin volumes of 
 tragic and comic remnants. Ribbeck's volume on " Romische Tragodie" 
 is for scholars, his " Romische Dichtung," in three parts, is intended 
 for any general reader who is master of German. Mommsen is ex- 
 tremely good on this period.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 AGE OF THE SCIPIOS, AND CATO 
 (202-133 B.C.) 
 
 The long duel with Carthage, or rather with the nnrivalled 
 military genius of Hannibal, brought Rome 
 
 Second Punic , , i ^ i^- Ttri xi i. 
 
 War, 218- to the verge of destruction. Whether he 
 202 B.C. made an error of strategy after Cannae, or 
 
 not, is a hackneyed subject. But it seems certain that, 
 with decent support from his own nation, whether he as- 
 sailed Rome directly or no, he could have made the control 
 of Italy permanent. This is but saying that the Romans 
 better deserved to win, because they supported the inferior 
 skill of Fabius, Marcellus, Africanus, with harmonious un- 
 tiring efforts and sacrifices. By securing the results of 
 victory, Rome made all Italy safe from serious invasion for 
 long centuries to come. These next seventy years are in 
 many ways the best epoch in the history of the race. 
 
 The great leaders, above all the older Africanus and his 
 adoptive grandson vEmilianus, enjoyed, and deserved, the 
 full respect of their people. Foreign conquest kept the 
 youth honorably employed, while the ever-increasing reve- 
 nues from new provinces prevented suffering at home. 
 Culture, also, came swiftly from without, but never fully 
 Hellenized the rude persistent stock of Latin peasantry. 
 
 There were, indeed, causes for the gravest anxiety. Po- 
 litical corruption had already begun. The governors of 
 the provinces often conspired with the contractors and tax- 
 gatherers to rob their helpless subjects. In Italy the small 
 farmers were quickly ruined by the destructive competition 
 
 38
 
 AGE OF THE SCIPIOS, AND CATO 29 
 
 of Sicily, Sardinia, Africa, the granaries of the Mediter- 
 ranean world. From all parts of Italy they streamed to 
 swell the city populace, while the tale of genuine Roman 
 citizens was decimated by constant war. 
 
 The Scipios appear in this time as the most refined and 
 progressive among the nobles, the friends and patrons of 
 the new learning and of Hellenic taste, the centre of that 
 cosmopolitan hospitality which accepted Ennius as the tru- 
 est voice of his adopted city, made of the African slave-boy 
 Terence a scholarly poet, and sent Polybios back to preach 
 to the Greeks not sullen submission but glad acceptance of 
 rulers worthy to be masters of the world. 
 
 Quite at the other extreme stands a stubborn personal 
 Cato the Censor, enemy of the great Af ricauus, Cato the Cen- 
 334-149, B.C. QQY, lauder of the better times forever past, 
 detesting and resisting all things Hellenic or foreign with 
 Livy, xxxviii.. ^^16 ferocity of instinctive self-preservation. 
 54. •• He was quite right, that whatever might 
 
 await Imperial Rome, the old type of character, the old 
 simple ways of living, could return no more. 
 
 By a capricious freak of fortune, the one work of Cato 
 handed down to us is his " De Re Rustica," a hopeless at- 
 tempt to call to his people's attention the old beloved rustic 
 life : and even this has been so modernized in form and 
 expression that he would no doubt scornfully disown it. 
 Yet it is lifted into prominence as the oldest Latin prose- 
 work extant. Even in the revision the style reveals the 
 man. 
 
 Old horses, or old slaves, are better got rid of by sale, or 
 turned out to perish. Yet the "family,'' of perhaps a 
 hundred, should " not suffer, be cold, nor hungry. The 
 bailiff is to keep it busy, thus better restraining it from mis- 
 chief and thieving. . . . He mustn't think he knows 
 more than the master. . . . Seed-corn, tools, barley,
 
 30 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 wine, oil, he must lend to no one. . . . He should be 
 the first to get up, and the last to go to bed." At the 
 winter fireside of Whittier's boyhood, for instance, this 
 book would have proved far more practical than llesiod, 
 or the Virgilian Georgics. 
 
 Of humor, indeed, there is in Cato only the grim Scotch 
 sort, as heard in his " Praise large farms, and take a small 
 one." So too his chief contribution to rhetoric is "Grip 
 the subject : words will follow.''' Sometimes he is near 
 akin to Poor Richard : " What you do not need is dear at a 
 Cicero, De Offi- penny." Cato is especially mentioned as an 
 
 ells, I., 39. 104- early collector of witty apophthegmata : but 
 Roman Avit is rarely convulsing. 
 
 Cato's services to literature were important, and the loss 
 of his other works is still deplored. He was the first Roman 
 orator to collect his own speeches. One hundred and fifty 
 Cicero, crutus, of them Came down at least to Cicero, who 
 
 '7.65- now compels us to judge of Roman oratory 
 
 from his own copious rlietoric alone. Livy praises them 
 
 most warmly. As a result of any real Aristo- 
 
 Livv xxxix ^o 
 
 telian inquiry into the early constitutions and 
 social conditions of the Latin and other Italian cities, Cato^s 
 " Origines " might disappoint us. Yet the record of an older 
 and less adorned tradition than Livy's, the fearless criticism 
 of recent events and living statesmen, even the ideal picture 
 Gesch. Rom. ^f the golden age past, would have great 
 Litt., p. 105. value : Professor Schanz, echoing Niebuhr, 
 says, a greater value than any other lost work of antiquity. 
 That " Cato learned Greek at eighty " is a very mislead- 
 ing commonplace. He is avowedly recording for his son 
 Marcus what he had learned in youth at Athens, when he 
 asserts that the Greeks are " A most worthless and un- 
 teachable race. Believe that this is uttered by a prophet: 
 whenever that folk imparts its literature, it will corruiat 
 everything."
 
 AGE OF THE SCIPIOS, AND CATO 31 
 
 We cannot but return such scorn for alien folk with ii 
 hearty admiration and liking for the man who speaks thus. 
 Especially Cato grown old, ugly, and misanthropic, 
 
 "Porcius, fiery-haired, gray-eyed, and snarling at all men," 
 
 has as real a fascination as Samuel Johnson, or Socrates 
 himself. Like Jolm C. Calhoun, or some gallant French 
 nobleman of the old regime, he steadily recedes into a past 
 remembered by ever fewer men, but always a picturesque 
 and unflinching leader of a lost cause. 
 
 A human heart beat in that rugged breast. In 167 B.C. 
 a thousand leading Greeks were brought to Eome as host- 
 ages. Seventeen years later there was a tedious debate in 
 the senate whether three hundred harmless forgotten sur- 
 vivors should be permitted to return. Cato gruffly cut it 
 short: " As though we had nothing else to do, here we sit 
 discussing whether a few old Greeks be buried here or in 
 Achaia." Even his Homer he had read to better purpose 
 than he confessed. Wlien urged to move also, in the sen- 
 ate, for a restoration of their former civic honors, he re- 
 marked with his sour smile: ''Polybios would venture 
 back into the Cyclops' cave, because he forgot his belt and 
 cap." 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Any of the histories will supplement the political outlines here sug- 
 gested. For Cato the English reader should not forget the life in Plu- 
 tarch. The genial old man in Cicero's " De Senectute " bears only the 
 name of Cato : but in Cicero's other works there are many excellent re- 
 marks on the elder author. Nepos's brief sketch includes our best anal- 
 ysis of the " Origines." Livy has a careful judgment. (Book XXXIX., 
 40.) Aulus Gellius has preserved many details as to Cato, and the cita- 
 tions by Servius in his great Virgilian commentary are still more im- 
 portant. The rather copious remains of the " Origines " are found in 
 Peter's " Historicorum Fragmenta," pp. 40-67. Both these and his 
 other fragments are well edited by Keil, and the " De Re Rustica" 
 by Jordan, in one volume with Varro's similar work.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ENNIUS 
 
 This stardy son of Rudiaj, a remote Calabrian village, 
 used to declare that he had tliree hearts, which found ut- 
 terance in the forgotten Oscan dialect of his 
 clan, in Greek, the language of the street, 
 market, and theatre throughout Magna Graecia, and in the 
 Latin speech of his adoptive fellow-citizens. Enlisted in 
 the Roman army, he had fought his way early, no doubt 
 with many scars, to the rank of centurion, or head of his 
 company : a very different career from that of a young 
 Roman gentleman, learning the art of war as attache on the 
 proconsul's staff, and later given command of a legion. We 
 may compare him perhaps to the color-sergeant of a British 
 regiment under the older regime, when only a gentleman 
 could buy his position in the social club of higher officers. 
 
 When Cato, in his thirtieth year, returning from Sar- 
 dinia, brought in his train this young veteran of thirty-five, 
 he had no suspicion what a trick fate was playing him. Be- 
 ginning like Andronicus as a teacher of both languages, 
 Ennius soon became the personal friend of the two great 
 Scipios, Africanus and Nasica. His famous little jest at 
 the latter's expense is, for Rome, a remarkably good one. 
 Turned away from his friend's door, he next day — perhaps 
 busy with Poesia and Podagra, his two most 
 
 Cicero, De Ora- . , , ^c^ • • ^ -i -t 
 
 tore, li., 376. imperious guests — when Scipio knocked, 
 
 shouted down stairs that he too was '' not 
 
 at home." To Scipio's indignant protest he retorted : " I 
 
 believed your maid : do you venture to doubt even my own 
 
 voice ? " 
 
 32
 
 .>•, ft-^^' 
 
 '■ -W. 
 
 
 IVWFER,RE^L[CEB[T^P.CAEL[V5^'T F 
 
 »^'. 
 
 MONUMENT OF A ROMAN YICE-CENTUKION. 
 
 From RaunuMster.
 
 ENNIUS 33 
 
 Though we get other glimpses of a very simple menage, 
 he seems to have had no quarrel with splendor, especially, 
 like Horace, when the guest of the great. Indeed, his claim, 
 " Only when housed by the gout do I versify," seems as dis- 
 dainful of the Muse as any great Roman noble could have 
 been. As Franklin also confessed, gout, of which Ennius 
 died at last, is itself a luxury, unknown to the abstemious. 
 Horace says boldly, 
 
 "E'en in the morning the Muses have mostly 
 Epistles, i., 19, reeked of the wine-cup. 
 
 Homer confesses a fondness for wine by chant- 
 ing its praises. 
 Father Ennius, too, leaped forward to sing of the battle 
 Never unless well drunk ! " 
 
 This much at least is true, that Ennius, though accepting 
 
 with delight full Eoman citizenship, meddled not, like 
 
 N^vins, in democratic or other politics, and without loss 
 
 of self-respect, was an ever- welcome guest of the great. The 
 
 accomplishments, and the tact, needed in such a station, 
 
 he has described perfectly in his *'Annales." We needed 
 
 not the assurance of the first among Roman 
 
 apud Geiiium scholars, that Ennius was really portraying 
 
 xii., 4, s. himself, in his poem, when a Roman general 
 
 of an earlier day 
 
 " Called for a man with whom he often and gladly 
 Table shared, and talk, and all his burden of duties. 
 When with debate all day on important affairs he was wearied, 
 Whether perchance in the forum wide, or the reverend senate : 
 One with whom he could frankly speak of his serious matters, 
 Trifles also, and jests; could pour out freely together 
 Pleasant or bitterer words, and know they were uttered in 
 
 safety. 
 Many the joys and griefs he had shared, whether public or 
 
 secret! 
 This was a man in whom no impulse prompted to evil. 
 Whether of folly or malice. A scholarly man and a loyal,
 
 34 THE REPUBLICAN" AGE 
 
 Graceful, ready in speech, with his own contented and happy; 
 
 Tactful, speaking in season, yet courteous, never loquacious. 
 
 Vast was the buried and antique lore that was his, for the fore- 
 time 
 
 Made him master of earlier customs as well as of newer. 
 
 . . . Wisely he knew both when he should talk and when 
 to be silent." 
 
 This last repeated tench perhaps hints the sore spot in a 
 dependent's life : the duty of silence. 
 
 When Fulvius invited Ennius along on a Greek cam- 
 paign, it was not as a centurion. Cato, already disen- 
 chanted, sharply reproved the taking of poets 
 into the camp, and Cicero hints at some re- 
 lation of eulogist and patron, saying Fulvius did not hesi- 
 tate " To dedicate Mars' booty to the Muses." 
 
 At any rate, this Calabrian villager brought to the Ro- 
 mans a full acceptance of Greek forms and taste. His epic 
 is not, like Andronicus's and Naevius's, in the accentual 
 Saturnians, but in quantitative hexameters, perhaps as 
 Homeric as the somewhat stiff polysyllabic speech of 
 Eome could yield to him who first moulded it in the 
 favorite Grecian rhythm. 
 
 The subject, more ambitious than Ncevius's, is frankly 
 assumed to be the whole story of Rome. He 
 
 Servluson •' 
 
 Aen.,1.,373, too begins with Troy and JEneas, who, us 
 Servius twice assures us, is still made Konm- 
 lus's grandsire. Yet Ennius invokes in the first verse no 
 Italian Camenas, but 
 
 " Muses who underneath your feet tread mighty Olympus." 
 
 His list of the twelve great gods is interesting in that he 
 accepts this Hesiodic number, and is compelled to include 
 one purely Hellenic name. 
 
 *• Juno Vesta Minerva Ceres Diana Venus Mars 
 Mercurius Jovis Neptunus Volcanus Apollo."
 
 ENNIUS 35 
 
 The second line exemplifies also the chief difference be- 
 tween the earlier and the Virgiliau hexameter. Final s 
 after a short vowel, as in Jovis, can be suppressed at will. 
 The statement early in the poem that Homer's soul was 
 reincarnated in Ennius need not imply any serious belief 
 in metempsychosis. Even as an assertion of his own Ho- 
 meric genius it is not insufferable conceit. 
 
 AVhile thus frankly Hellenic in its taste, the poem was 
 the most adequate utterance ever attained of the character- 
 istic Roman spirit. We have about six hundred verses 
 altogether, perhaps a twentieth of the whole. Some pas- 
 sages, such as the beautiful account of Rhea Silvia's pro- 
 phetic dream, extend to nearly a score of connected hexam- 
 eters. Even brief fragments have often a certain com- 
 pleteness, as the characterization of Fabius, which we are 
 fain to apply to Washington or Abraham Lincoln : 
 
 "Simply by biding his time, one man has rescued a nation. 
 Not for the praises of men did he care, but alone for our 
 
 safety. 
 Therefore greater and greater his fame shall wax in the 
 
 future." 
 
 A larger international sympathy breathes in Pyrrhus's 
 words to the Romans : 
 
 " Grold for myself I crave not. Ye need not proffer a ransom. 
 Not as hucksters might do we wage our war, but as soldiers : 
 Not with gold, but the sword. Our lives Ave set on the issue. 
 Whether your rule or mine be Fortune's pleasure, — our mis- 
 tress, — 
 Let us by valor decide." 
 
 In fact this light-hearted soldier of fortune, perhaps 
 because more easily and promptly disposed of than Hanni- 
 bal, was always treated with truly chivalric courtesy in 
 Roman annals. 
 
 There are other important phases in Ennius's life-work. 
 Indeed, though lacking in humor, and only mentioned by
 
 36 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 courtesy, last, among the ten writers of comedy, he put all 
 liis iiery energy into his Hellenistic tragedies. Fragments 
 of his " Medea," which Cicero calls a " word-for-word ren- 
 dering from the Greek," can be proiitably compared with 
 Euri])ides's original. Perhaps it is as a schoolmaster that 
 he introduced so curious and dubious a line as 
 
 "The ship 
 Called Argo, since in her picked Argive men 
 Were caiTted. " 
 
 In general we should greatly like to compare sticli a Latin 
 play, entire, with the Greek original. Yet more tantaliz- 
 ing are the rather copious fragments of an "Alexander," 
 describing the day when Paris is recognized and restored to 
 princely honors in Troy. The reconstruction of this play, 
 by llibbeck, with the aid of surviving verses from a Greek 
 original also, has been measurably successful. Ennius ap- 
 pears to have composed at least one original Koman drama, 
 on the happy subject of the seizure of the Sabine women. 
 
 Most of Ennius's other writings were seemingly grouped 
 under the general name of Saturm. By his time the word 
 had probably attained nearly the meaning of Miscellanies, 
 though there are still some fragments from lost " Satires" 
 which indicate a dialogue, i.e., a certain dramatic form. 
 
 We hear of an especial essay on Gastronomy, describing 
 dainty dishes in rapturous language. This was a free ver- 
 sion from Greek, as was an essay explaining away the 
 divine myths as tales of mere human beings or natural 
 phenomena. Indeed, this rationalizing jn-ocess still bears 
 the name of Euhemeros. Ennius has a verse, audacious 
 for conservative Rome and his day, which is partly verified 
 by modern philology : 
 
 " That I mean by 'Jupiter' which among Greeks is called 
 the air, 
 That becomos, in turn, wind, cloud, rain, cold, and last 
 tliin air again."
 
 ENNIUS 37 
 
 But Ennins's chief work is certainly the ^'Annales." Even 
 the remnants we have should be carefully studied by every- 
 one who would know what is best in Latin art or life. 
 Many citations are offered us by Macrobius expressly to 
 show Virgil's remarkable indebtedness to this predecessor. 
 
 We are glad to be assured that this career was an active 
 and fruitful one to the end. It was stated in the twelfth 
 book of the " Annales " that the poet was sixty-seven when 
 composing it, and our citations prove positively that he 
 completed eighteen books. His epitaph on his friend 
 Africanus is quite in the stern pagan spirit of requital : 
 
 " Here is he laid unto whom no man, be he foeman or comrade, 
 Ever was able to give recompense worthy his deeds." 
 
 Ennins's own memorial verse, whether from his pen or 
 not, breathes, even in its confidence, a tone more congenial 
 to the modern mind : 
 
 " None shall honor my funeral rites with tears or lamenting ; 
 Why? Because still do I flit, living, from lip unto lip." 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The dramatic fragments of Ennius are found in Ribbeck's " Tragi- 
 corum," the other remains in Biihrens. See also the monograph by 
 Lucian Miiller. For a selection, with notes, see Merry's " Fragments 
 of Roman Poetry." This useful little book gives also some hint of 
 Ribbeck's method in reconstructing lost plays. 
 
 The copious chapter on Ennius by Sellar in his " Roman Poets of the 
 Republic " is illustrated with versions of the chief fragments, and is 
 perhaps the most spirited in the whole standard work. 
 
 \\^\Z.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 PLAUTUS 
 (250-184 B.C.) 
 
 Titus Maccius Plautus, chief anthor of extant Latin 
 comedies, indeed our principal source for early and collo- 
 quial Latin, was doubtless somewhat Ennius's senior. We 
 have met as yet no Eoman writer who, by pure creative 
 imagination and devotion to the highest creative ideals of 
 art, fully deserves the Greek name of poet. Least lofty 
 of all is this figure. 
 
 Plautus or Plotus meant in Umbria " flat-foot," Mac- 
 cus is a stock character of the old rustic farce, — like 
 Pantaloon or Clown. The names are too fitting to be 
 accidental : clownish and unbuskin'd indeed is his art. 
 He was a native of Umbrian Sarsina, the last Italian town 
 to submit to Rome, hence not at all a centre of the new 
 culture. 
 
 Plautus in Rome was at first a servant to actors, later an 
 
 unsuccessful roving trader, then a helper in a mill, finally 
 
 a playwright. Few careers could be humbler, 
 
 Qeinus. m., 3. M. ^^.^^^ ^^^ Roman point of view. The chief 
 
 actor of the troop or " herd " was usually a f reedman at 
 best, his company all or mostly slaves. Their employment 
 was a social stigma unfitting them even for military ser- 
 vice. They were, like mountebanks at our country fairs, 
 under the special surveillance of the police, who administered 
 vigorous floggings, either for poor performance or for any 
 audacity toward those in high station. In fact, drama in 
 
 38
 
 PLAUTU8 39 
 
 republican Rome was simply a free show and vulgar amuse- 
 ment at popular festivals, attended by entire families. 
 Disorder and inattention were the rule. Hissing, or ap- 
 plause, or even largesse thrown to the actors, meant for 
 them failure or success. In the former case, even the 
 playwright lost the modest fee expected from the magis- 
 trates who held the games. Of competition, or real prizes, 
 we hear nothing. 
 
 Plautus's familiarity with Greek speech he shared to a 
 great extent with his hearers of high and low degree, if we 
 may judge by the bilingual puns, etc., freely introduced. 
 He may have improved his knowledge on his journeyings. 
 Sailors have a notorious fondness for the theatre, and for 
 other forms of diversion only too freely portrayed. in these 
 comedies. Certainly there is nothing scholarly in him ; 
 and we have the detailed statement of 
 ., J3. Ggiii^js t,hat Roman comedy generally did 
 but roughen and blur the finer originals. 
 
 Inadequate as are our fragments of the Attic Middle and 
 JSTew Comedy, they quite bear out Gellius's strictures. 
 While the Plautine plots, characters, main lines of dia- 
 logue, and finer humor, are unmistakably Greek, some 
 more or less amusing " gags," allusions to Roman condi- 
 tions and recent events, show Plautus's own homely 
 mother-wit. Swift action, lively dialogue, above all a 
 racy, vigorous Latin style, we may also owe in large part, 
 or wholly, to him. 
 
 There is, however, a further difficulty. We do not 
 have the plays as Plautus taught them to his actors. In 
 particular, few if any of the prologues date from his time. 
 It will be seen, therefore, that his name, though not quite 
 so uncertain as Homer's, covers in a vague fashion a large 
 mass of Graeco-Roman drama, borrowed from decadent 
 Athens in the first place, and recast without scruple as 
 often as each play was revived after his day.
 
 40 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 Yet again, Varro, the learned antiquarian of Cicero's 
 time, found in circulation as " Plautine " the incredible 
 Qeiiius, iii., 3, number of one hundred and thirty com- 
 "• edies, i.e., nearly the whole mass of early 
 
 Latin drama. Twenty-one of these, Varro found, had 
 been accepted by all previous critics. Nineteen others he 
 himself thought genuine. Our MSS. contain twenty, and 
 large fragments of another, the " Vidularia." The natural 
 ijiference, that we have Varro's first class, is very probably 
 true, but hardly proven. 
 
 The scene is always laid in a Greek city, often Athens. 
 The chief character is usually an audacious, tricky slave ; 
 quite enough, in itself, to show that the Romans accounted 
 this drama as neither realistic nor of serious importance, 
 for the Roman slave of real life was held in sterner subjection. 
 The slave is most often engaged in embezzling, from his 
 owner or otherwise, money for the profligate and spend- 
 thrift *^ young master." The latter is generally in love 
 with some damsel of low degree and questionable character, 
 who pretty regularly proves at last to be a great heiress, 
 kidnapped in childhood. 
 
 Of course by no means all the comedies contain just this 
 series of incidents. Yet such was clearly the line along 
 which popular favor, and freedom from official disapproval, 
 could be most securely won, in Rome as in Athens. Hence 
 the hackneyed character of nearly all the plays. The 
 masks, in Terence even the names, would often fit one old 
 man or youth, villainous slave or parasite, as well as 
 another. The parasite, or hanger-on in wealthy houses, is 
 the chief comic character, always hungry, generally un- 
 scrujiulous, constantly a butt of coarsest ridicule. 
 
 Naturally, we shall have most to say of the few plays 
 which rise out of this mass into something like originality 
 and interest. The prologue of the "Captives" makes 
 strenuous claim to such distinction.
 
 PLAUTUS 41 
 
 " 'Twill, suro, be worth your while to note this play. 
 
 'Tis luade with care, not as the othei'S are, 
 Captivi. V8S. ^y.^j^ ^^^ j^^j Ijj^gg^ ^j^^^^ ^^ j_^^ recalled. 
 
 Here is no perjured pander, shameless woman, 
 Nor braggart soldier. ' ' 
 
 And again at the close : 
 
 " This our comedy, spectators, is for honest 
 Vss. 1029 ff. , J 
 
 morals made . . , 
 
 Rarely do the poets fashion such a comedy as this. 
 
 Where the good are rendered better. " 
 
 Though hardly deserving Lessing's extravagant praise as 
 the best of all comedies, the play really is romantic and 
 rather ennobling in tone. 
 
 Bat the audience no doubt better enjoyed the Epilogue 
 of the "Asinaria :" 
 
 ' ' If behind his goodwife's back this old man 
 Vss. 94a ff. 1 • 4.4.1 <^ 
 
 had a little fun, 
 
 Nothing new or strange he did, nor different from the common 
 
 run. 
 If you wish to beg him off and save him from his cudgelling 
 This by loud applause you'll have no trouble in accomplish- 
 ing. " 
 
 This finale, mingling with the acted scene the real fears of 
 the slavish player, gives a lively glimpse into the ignoble 
 theatrical conditions. 
 
 Perhaps the most amusing character is the Braggart 
 Soldier. He appears accompanied by his rather weary 
 flatterer Artotrogos (Breadeater), who rehearses the num- 
 bers he has slain. The soldier's name, " Castlecitycon- 
 qneror," is of course itself absurd. 
 
 " Soldier : What is the grand sum total ? 
 "vs8.''46«"'"'' Flatterer : Seven thousand ! 
 
 Soldier : So many should it be. You reckon 
 well.
 
 42 
 
 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 Flatterer . 
 
 Soldier : 
 Flatte7-er 
 
 Soldier : 
 Flatterer 
 
 Soldier : 
 Flatte7-er 
 
 Soldier : 
 
 Why, in Cappadocia, at a single blow 
 
 You had slain five hundred, but — your sword was 
 
 dull. 
 Poor wretched infantry, I let them live. 
 Why say what all men know, that on the earth 
 You only, Pyrgopolinikes, live 
 In valor, beauty, deeds, unconquer'dest ? 
 All women love you : and good reason too : 
 You are so handsome : like those yesterday 
 That plucked my cloak. 
 (Eagerly) What did they say to you ? 
 
 They asked me : ' Is this Achilles ? ' So said one. 
 
 ' Yes, 'tis his brother,' said I. Then the other : 
 
 ' Well, he is handsome, surely ; * so she said : 
 
 ' And noble. See how well his hair becomes him. 
 
 Happy those women are with whom he wives.' 
 
 Did they say so ? 
 
 Why yes I Both made me swear 
 
 To-day I'd bring you in procession by. 
 
 To be too handsome is a piteous thing ! " 
 
 The cowardice, brutality, and lawless desires of this hero 
 having been duly laid bare, we have no objections when he 
 is cudgelled, ridiculed, even defrauded, in the finale. He 
 has none of Falstaff's wit and good humor to win our liking 
 in spite of ns. But neither is there any other character in 
 the play who calls out our deeper sympathy. 
 
 The best of the prologues, that of the " Trinummus,^^ re- 
 fusing to betray the plot, says : 
 
 Trinummus, 
 V8S. 17 ff. 
 
 " The old men coming yonder will make clear 
 The story. In Greek, 'Thesaurus' it was 
 called. 
 
 Philemon wrote it. Plautus, rendering it 
 In barbarous speech, called it Trinummus. . . 
 That's all. Farewell. In silence now attend." 
 
 One of the *'old men " is coming ont of his own house-
 
 >5 
 
 _2 
 
 a 
 
 g 

 
 PLAUTUS 43 
 
 door, and speaks three lines to his wife within, the fourth 
 as he gets out of her hearing : 
 
 " I beg you with a garland crown our Lar, 
 * Goodwife, and pray that this our dwelling- 
 
 place 
 Be prosperous, happy, blest and fortunate : 
 — And that I presently may find you dead. " 
 
 Such merry Jests on wedded misery, evidently brought 
 
 down the house, and are as much stock material as our 
 
 gibes at stepmothers or mothers-in-law. 
 
 Another type still familiar is thus satirized : it is the 
 
 gossips 
 
 ". . . Who, knowing nothing, claim to know 
 V»i, 205-9. ., ,, 
 
 it all. 
 
 What each intends, or will intend, they know. 
 
 What in the queen's ear the king said, they know. 
 
 They know what Juno chatted of with Jove. 
 
 What never was or is, — they know it, though." 
 
 The " Trinummus " is the cleanest of all the Plautine plays ; 
 partly because no feminine characters appear at all. 
 
 The best plot, however, is the "Captives," already men- 
 tioned. Two young men, master and slave, from Elis, 
 have been taken prisoners in war by the ^tolians. They 
 exchange names and characters, so when their purchaser, 
 old Hegio, allows the servant to go home and negotiate an 
 exchange with Hegio's own captive son, it is really the mas- 
 ter who escapes. This deception is unwittingly betrayed 
 by still another Elean prisoner, who knows them both well. 
 Angry old Hegio loads chains and hardships on the heroic 
 slave. But the young master presently returns with Hegio's 
 son, to conclude the exchange. He brings also the start- 
 ling news, that his valiant slave-comrade, who is suffering 
 in his stead, is himself another son of Hegio, stolen in in- 
 fancy by a rascally slave. The latter is brought along to
 
 44 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 confess, and is hurried off to the hangman while all else 
 ends happily. 
 
 This is a really moving melodrama, enlisting our sympathy 
 strongly for the captives and slaves. There is a vulgar 
 parasite, as usual, and some unusually stupid jesting. We 
 are tempted to charge all such details to Plautus, and the 
 finer features to the Greek original. At any rate, the 
 romantic play helps us to understand Avhy Menander and his 
 school looked to Euripides, not to Aristophanes, as their 
 great progenitor. This plot is quite as tragic, in the early 
 sense of the word, as Euripides's Tauric Iphigenia, or even 
 the Sophoclean Philoctetes. Those two great fifth-century 
 dramatists, however, probably dared not put upon the tragic 
 scene a frankly contemporaneous stovy. The fourth-cen- 
 tury comedy had no such fears. Yet we seem almost to 
 hear an echo of Antigone's voice when the slave-captive, 
 after the trick is detected, faces his father's threats of 
 torture with noble disdain. 
 
 " Since for no sin I fall, little I reck. 
 ^2-88^'* If he, who promised, comes not, and I die. 
 
 This will be counted honor still, in death, 
 That I from servitude and hostile hands 
 Restored my master to his home and father ; 
 And here I rather chose to put my life 
 In peril, than that he should be destroyed." 
 
 Virgil, most constant and ingenious of imitators, may 
 have taken the cue for a notable speech of Neoptolemos 
 from Hegio's mocking retort : 
 
 ^547-49!" '"' " ^"J^y *1^^* S^^^y' *^i^"' i^ Acheron .! " 
 
 The Plautine " Menaechmi " is the undoubted original for 
 Shakespeare's " Comedy of Errors " : and is less incredible, 
 since only one pair of long-parted and indistinguishable 
 twin brothers dodge each other on and off the scene. So 
 the " Aulularia," or Pot of Grold, is the avowed prototype
 
 PLAUTUS 45 
 
 of Moliere's " L'Avare," and less directly of other misers 
 on many a modern comic stage. 
 
 One striking lack in Plautus, to a student familiar with 
 the Aristoplianic comedy, is the Chorus. There is really 
 only one scene in all the twenty plays wliere anything of 
 the sort can be traced. That is in the "Rudens," and the 
 choir of disconsolate fishermen are curiously useless, adding 
 at best only a bit of local color to a scene of shipwreck. 
 A-S an elegy on Fisherman's Luck it has a certain pathos of 
 its own. 
 
 •' Most wretched in every way is the life of men who are 
 poverty stricken ; 
 And especially those who have learnt no trade, who are 
 
 destitute of employment. 
 Whatever they happen to have in the house, they perforce 
 
 therewith are contented. 
 But as for ourselves, how wealthy we are you may judge 
 
 pretty well by our costume. 
 These hooks that you see, and bamboo poles, are our means 
 
 for attaining a living ; 
 And every day from the city we come, to secure a subsistence, 
 
 hither. 
 Instead of gymnastics and boyish games, this toil is our 
 
 exercise only. 
 Sea-urchins and limpets we strive to secure, with oysters and 
 
 scallops and cockles ; 
 The nettles as well, in the sea that dwell, and the striped 
 
 crabs and the mussels. 
 And among the rocks after that with our liooks and lines we 
 
 go a-flshing. 
 To capture our food from out of the sea. But if no luck is 
 
 our portion. 
 And we catch no fish, then, salted ourselves, well drenched 
 
 with the briny water. 
 To our homes we go, and slink out of sight, and to bed with- 
 out any supper. 
 And unless we have eaten the cockles we caught, our dinner 
 has been no better."
 
 46 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 Lastly we may quote a passage or two of a prologue 
 which is certainly not from Plautus's pen. But for an 
 allusion in it to Carthage as still existent, indeed, the 
 language would bring it down nearly to Varro's own day. 
 It was written for a revival of the "Casina," a most foul 
 and brutal play. The writer faces frankly certain natural 
 criticisms by his audience. 
 
 Casina " Some here, methinks, will say among them- 
 
 Prologue. selves, 
 
 ' Prithee, what's this ? A wedding among slaves ? 
 A strange thing this to play, that's nowhere done! ' 
 I say, in Carthage this is done, and Greece, 
 And, of our country, in Apulia too. 
 Ay, servile marriages more carefully 
 Are celebrated than a freeman's there." 
 
 But we cite this intelligent later critic, here, for the 
 most favorable view that can be given of Plautine comedy, 
 as a harmless, cheerful pastime for a festal day. Nearly all 
 his words we can echo cordially, provided we may turn 
 away from the " Casina" to such melodramas as the " Cap- 
 tives" and "Trinummus" : 
 
 •• The men who drink old wine I count as wise, 
 And those that gladly hear an ancient play. 
 Since antique words and phrases please you well. 
 An old-time drama should delight you more. 
 For the new comedies, that now appear, 
 Are even more debased than these new coins. 
 
 Now we have hearkened to the People's cry, 
 That you desire to hear the Plautine plays, 
 And so bring out this ancient comedy. 
 . . . All dramas it surpassed when acted first. 
 The flower of poets still were living then, 
 Though now departed whither all must pass. . . . 
 
 And with full earnestness we beg you all 
 Kindly to give attention to our troop.
 
 PLAUTUS 47 
 
 Cast from your minds your cares and debts away. 
 
 Let no one stand in terror of his dun. 
 
 'Tis holiday. The banks keep holiday. 
 
 'Tis peace. The forum has its halcyon days. . . ." 
 
 If the passages here cited make the general sketch of 
 PUiutus's art seem too unfavorable, it must be remembered 
 that they are deliberately chosen as "purple patches," not 
 as fairly typical extracts. The importance of these come- 
 dies to linguistic students cannot be overrated. They are 
 our chief resource for that colloquial Latin — overshadowed 
 but never eradicated by the literary idiom from Cicero to 
 Quintilian — from which the Romance languages derive 
 their origin. But as fine art, or even as original creations, 
 they fall under a deadlier test. 
 
 Still, though the plots are nearly all ignoble, sometimes 
 too debasing to be outlined, the ordinary tone of the dia- 
 logue is much purer than, e.g., Aristophanes's. Of Plautus 
 himself we get a rather agreeable impression as a merry, 
 kind-hearted man of homely wit and shrewd practical 
 judgment. Our quarrel is with the ignoble life and mo- 
 rality which had evidently been set forth in the Attic New 
 Comedy, and which was not bettered when its graceful 
 scenes were " butchered to make a Roman holiday." For 
 young readers we may pronounce the **Captivi" desira- 
 ble, the "Trinummus" harmless, the ''Miles" and 
 " Menaechmi " coarse but amusing. For the rest a few 
 extracts, like the exquisitely poetical prologue and stirring 
 scene of the shipwreck in the "Rudens," may well suffice. 
 
 When we remember that Menanderand Philemon beheld 
 the meteoric career of Alexander, that Plautus lived 
 through the terrible strain and stress of the llannibalic in- 
 vasion, we realize that such art as this must be quite 
 divorced from the real and serious life of a nation or an 
 age. 
 
 To Gellius, often quoted already, we owe the preserva-
 
 48 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 tion of tlic epitapli, but we sliare his doubts, despite Varro's 
 assunuice, wliether the genial fun-maker-in-cliiei" for the 
 liouian popuhice composed for himself these three con- 
 ceited and rather awkward hexameters : 
 
 " Since he has passed to the grave, for Plautus Comedy sor- 
 rows. 
 
 Now is the stage deserted; and Play, and Jesting, and 
 Laughter, 
 
 Dirges, though written in numbers yet numberless, join 
 in lamenting." 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The Bobn translation of Plautus is quite faithful enough. But the 
 study of ancient comedy should begin, of course, with some such drama 
 of Aristophanes as the "Clouds," " Birds," or " Frogs," preferably in 
 Frere's or Rogers's brilliant versions. The large element of realism in 
 Euripides, which made later comedy regard him as the true master, 
 can be best seen in the "Alkestis. " The meagre fragments of Menander's 
 school can hardly be treated in English at all. An essay upon that 
 group, by the present autlior, will be found in the Warner " Library " 
 under Philemon. The method of approach through Aristophanes here 
 indicated is well illustrated by the most helpful volume on Plautus and 
 Terence, by Rev. W. L Collins, in the series of Ancient Classics for 
 English Readers. 
 
 A volume is to be desired which shall render faithfully as much of 
 Plautus as can be profitably read by students in English. It could 
 contain three or four plays all but entire, connected scenes from others, 
 mere bits from man}'. 
 
 Readers of French may profitably compare the general plot, and 
 even particular scenes and speeches, of Moliere's " L'Avare " with the 
 *' Aulularia." Tlie "Comedy of Errors" is of course available for a 
 similar comparison with the " MensBchmi." The serious student of 
 (•onii)arative literature or modern drama can extend this paragraph in- 
 definitely.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TERENCE AND HIS FRIENDS 
 
 The superior popularity of comedy in Rome is attested 
 by a passage in the prologue of Plautus's " Ampliitruo." 
 Mercury announces the play, which is a clever but irrever- 
 ent burlesque on the serious Aischylean drama, as a trag- 
 edy. When the spectators "knit their brows ^^ over this, 
 he compromises, and finally calls it a tragicomedy : " with 
 everv verse the same." 
 
 We hear of no exclusively tragic writers, but at least 
 three authors are known through comedies 
 alone. Despite Gellius's severe judgment, 
 Caecilius, the second of the three, was popular enough to 
 produce on the stage forty comedies. All are lost. The 
 fragments generally are rough, comparatively uninterest- 
 ing, and meagre. 
 
 Caecilius was long the housemate, perhaps a protege, of 
 statius Csediius, Ennius. His most interesting scene is the 
 1 168 B.C. last one recorded of his oAvn life. The young 
 
 and unknown alien Terentius Afer, having the audacity 
 to offer a comedy, called "Andria," the sdiles required him 
 to take it first of all to the veteran Cascilius for a critical 
 judgment. The old author was dining. After the first 
 few lines were heard the humble youth was bidden to leave 
 his low reading-stool and join the guests at table as a wel- 
 come equal. The prompt and generous approval of the 
 elder playwright assured the youth a favorable hearing. 
 His play was acted two years or so later. 
 
 Caecilius was himself an Insubrian Kelt by origin, Ter- 
 
 49
 
 50 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 ence an African of some Lib3^an clan. Both had come to 
 Rome as prisoners and slaves, like Andronicus. From such 
 curions sources were recruited the leading men of letters, 
 in Rome, at the proudest epoch of her history. 
 
 Terence died before he was thirty, but completed, and 
 
 produced, within seven years, six comedies. 
 
 All are translations from Menander or Ap- 
 
 167-160 B.C. . 
 
 pollodoros, leading authors of the Attic 
 *' New Comedy," though once a single scene from Diphilos 
 was inserted. Co7itaminatio, or combination of portions 
 from two similar dramas, is also avowed in the prologues. 
 In these plays we find no allusions to Roman matters, little 
 which Menander might not have said. We miss the swift, 
 rollicking action of Plautus. Even the easy, rough lyric 
 rhythms have all but vanished, leaving merely polished 
 conversation. 
 
 The general picture portrayed is invariably the ignoble, 
 commonplace city life already too familiar from Plautus. 
 In every play the "love aifair" is a vulgar intrigue. Not 
 one of the plots can be frankly explained to-day. The 
 stock types — the lying, knavish slave, the gullible father, 
 the youthful spendthrift, the hungry parasite, and worse 
 characters — pass constantly across the stage. "Notliing 
 is tittered now not said before," confesses the poet in a 
 frank prologue. The very names grow hackneyed. There 
 are indeed some realistic character-sketches, like the " Self- 
 tormentor," effective contrasts, like the " Brothers," of 
 whom one is a rustic, the other a city gentleman. 
 
 But all this is undoubtedly the Greek author's property, 
 and we have even the masterly criticism of Caesar, to the ef- 
 fect that Terence is but a 7irt//-Menander, offering us the 
 Athenian's grace without his force. Cicero, too, speaks of 
 his "weakened effects." We cannot wonder that such an 
 artist repeatedly failed to hit the taste of his popular 
 audience. A translator, who added nothing, and even
 
 TERENCE AND HIS FRIENDS 51 
 
 missed the true dramatic force of his original, we might 
 be ready to call him. 
 
 Yet this, even if essentially true, would be most in- 
 adequate and misleading. Terence despised the popular 
 taste. To Plautus and other predecessors he alludes with 
 courteously veiled disdain, or at least with fearless confi- 
 dence, in the curiously boyish and self-conscious series of 
 prologues to these six adaptations. This African youth, 
 just now a slave, was on terms of intimacy with the fore- 
 most Romans of that great age. The largest, noblest. 
 Fall of Carthage, Diost opeu-minded man of the time was doubt- 
 146 B.C. jggg ^niilianus, or, as he is oftener called, 
 
 Africanus the Younger, the future destroyer of Carthage, 
 whose friendship with Ltelius is so prominent in Cicero's 
 pair of famous essays,'*^ De Senectute " and " Be Amicitia." 
 With these two, and their whole circle, the youthful f reed- 
 man was on terms of intimacy, perhaps of social equality. 
 That they actually collaborated in these translations is a 
 charge which he had no desire, very likely no power, to 
 deny. 
 
 "Certain maligners say, that noblemen 
 vis. 15-21. ' Assist and share in what the poet writes. 
 What tliey consider as a grave reproach 
 He counts high honor, if he pleases them 
 Who please you and the people, one and all : 
 Whose aid in war, in peace, in business life. 
 No man so proud but at his need accepts I " 
 
 This description could fit only Scipio ^milianus, but is 
 not excessive for him who, born the son of Macedonia's 
 conqueror, had passed by adoption into the house of the 
 victor over Hannibal. Though strange, it seems clearly 
 true, that his innermost social circle was absolutely free 
 from all prejudice against race or previous station. 
 
 The greatest alien ornament, probably, of that circle was 
 a noble Greek, who had been Scipio's tutor, and was his
 
 52 THE KEPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 life-long friend: Polybios, largest-minded and most 
 statesmanlike of Greek historians. His father had been 
 chief of the Achaian league, the last hope of Greek union 
 and freedom. Polybios came to see, and taught his 
 countrymen, that provincial security under Rome was bet- 
 ter than the old turbulent life of liberty. Four or five 
 haughty states learned, like Macedonia, the same bitter 
 lesson in that same generation. In the Scipionic circle the 
 large responsibilities of world -empire, the common in- 
 terests of man, were fit subjects for freest table-talk. 
 
 So when, in the performance of the " Self-tormentor, '' 
 was heard the famous verse 
 
 ' ' I am a man : naught human I account 
 Alien to me," 
 
 the audience which rose and cheered may well have heard 
 behind the Avords a more potent voice than either Terence's 
 or Menander's. 
 
 Laelius, like his friend, was a polished speaker and 
 writer, at home in both languages. There is an anecdote 
 of him that once, coming late to dinner from his study, he 
 quoted in apology, to his Avife, a fine poetical passage just 
 composed. That passage now stands in the Terentian 
 comedy mentioned a moment ago. 
 
 The evidence, it will be noted, is much more substantial 
 than in the Baconian controversy. To many it seems con- 
 vincing. It must be remembered, that almost any given 
 passage in Terence maij, for all we know, be wholly absent 
 from the Greek original. We are sure that at least the 
 characters and plots were borrowed : but that is nearly all 
 we can positively assert. 
 
 Now, in Terentian comedy we discover easy grace of 
 manners in nearly all characters, the utmost courtesy, even 
 real humanity of spirit, frequent wide though light-hearted 
 glimpses at life, literature, and philosophic thought.
 
 TERENCE AND HIS FiilENDS 53 
 
 Above all, we find the colloquial Latin style risen at a 
 bound to the highest level it ever attained. Ennlus, in 
 tragedy and occasionally in his dactylic annals, has a far 
 more sonorous voice, a statelier stride. Such triumphs of 
 labored literary skill as Cicero's long sweeping period : 
 e.g.. Rem puhUcam, Quirites, vitamque vestrum omnium, 
 hona, for tunas, conjuges liberosque vestros . . . , are 
 yet to come. The fiery thrust of Catullus's hendecasyllables, 
 the haunting melancholy of a Virgilian hexameter — these 
 are inimitable creations of the artist's unique genius. But 
 such conventions and graces of speech as can be copied, as 
 have in fact been echoed, down to the present moment, in 
 the Romance speech of four or five courteous, sensitive, self- 
 conscious peoples — these appear largely, once for all, in 
 the Latin of Terence's plays. 
 
 Year after year the boys of Westminster play these de- 
 cadent Grfeco-Ronian comedies to an audience that would 
 not tolerate in English the immoralities of Congreve and 
 Farquhar, and they also mimic Terence's style, in original 
 Latin compositions, to enact on the same stage the most 
 ludicrous events of their own school life. In fact, wher- 
 ever spoken Latin is still an elegant accomplishment, Ter- 
 ence supplies the ultimate source, the most approved 
 model. At least, his humble name must always remain 
 carven over the fountain. In all modern literature his 
 dramatic art is imitated. 
 
 Whatever the authorship, these pages have the delicate 
 charm, the fascination, of a perfect mastery in choice and 
 use of words. We may still try the same test to which 
 rough old Cfficilius so promptly succumbed. The first 
 scene of the "Andria" is a mere chat between a suspicious 
 old Athenian master and an obsequious slave. The " young 
 master," Pamphilus, has refused to accept the bride selected 
 for him. A little adventuress from the island of Andros, a 
 grievous disturber of respectable social life generally, has
 
 54 THE EEPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 long been suspected as tlie real obstacle to the wedding, 
 though Pamphilus has never seemed devoted, nor a favor- 
 ite of hers. But the real facts have just come out. The 
 Andrian, Chrysis, has recently died. At her funeral and 
 cremation has been seen, for the first time i:i public, her 
 shy and lovely younger sister, Glycerium ; and Pamphilus's 
 complete devotion to her was there unmistakable. 
 
 At tliis point the essential outlines of the plot can be 
 safely guessed. Glycerium will prove to be the long-lost 
 sister of the unwelcome bride, the latter will cheerfully ac- 
 cept Pamphilus's friend as consolation prize, two weddings 
 will be announced at " Plaudite." 
 
 And yet we defy the cynic actually to peruse that single 
 scene without a hundred tender thoughts for this anxious 
 father of a wayward son, for the unwedded lovers whose 
 child is born a few days later, even for the wretched girl 
 who was that day cremated. The appeal is to universal 
 feelings. 
 
 ' ' There too my son 
 
 " * ^ Alone: with Chrysis' former lovers came, 
 
 V88. 106-12. a J 
 
 Sharing the funeral. He meantime was sad, 
 Shed an occasional tear. I was well pleased . 
 ' If he, because of slight acquaintance, takes 
 Her death so much to heart, '—so ran my thought, — 
 ' What if he had loved her ? What will this youth do 
 For me, who am his father ? ' " 
 
 In general, Terence's people are very unfit folk for our 
 friendship or respect, yet we are not much the worse, and 
 sometimes distinctly the better, for meeting them. 
 
 Terence, having none of Horace's fondness for over-elab- 
 oration of his phrase, is especially available for easy quota- 
 tion. Many of his " jewels five words long " live on the 
 lips of men who barely know his name. John Winthrop, 
 indeed, most stainless and austere of Puritans, distinguish- 
 ing hia own notions of pious liberty from its base counter-
 
 TEKENCE AND HIS FRIENDS 55 
 
 feit, gives due credit to Tereutius for the sentiment 
 " Omnes sumns Ucentia deteriores " : (We all by license are 
 debased). The real master, Athenian Menander, lives al- 
 most solely through general and moral truths, cited in 
 hardly less serious spirit by the moralists of later antiquity : 
 perhaps Terence also will continue to preach his mild and hu- 
 mane ethics, in fragmentary verses, ages after his plays are 
 lost forever. It will matter little whether the thought, or 
 the phrase, was first struck out by a world-weary Athenian 
 of the fourth century, a Roman statesman of the second, 
 or by the short-lived African slave-boy whose name it will 
 bear. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Terence is, of course, represented in the Bohn Library, sharing a 
 Tolume, rather quaintly, with Phaedrus the fabulist. Among interest- 
 ing recent revivals of the plays was a performance of the " Phormio" 
 at Harvard, for which Professor M. H. Morgan furnished an excellent 
 text, and a careful translation richly spiced with recent slang.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 LOST WORKS AND AUTHORS OF THE REPUBLICAN 
 
 PERIOD 
 
 The happy epoch of the Scipios, already characterized, 
 is generally felt to close abruptly with the tragic death of 
 Tiberius Gracchus. This first blood shed in 
 '^Gracchus! iJi ^i^ic strife was the foreshadowing of a tur- 
 B.c. bulent century, which ended in the avowed 
 
 failure of senatorial and popular government, and the en- 
 Battie of Acti- tlironemcnt of an autocratic master. We 
 um, 31B.C. inay indeed select the date 88 B.C. for 
 the actual breaking down of the old conditions. Cer- 
 tainly after Marins and Sulla had alternately proscribed 
 and massacred all their personal enemies, only the shell 
 of the former social order remained. For several decades 
 previous to that time, however, literature had languished, 
 and at the advent of the first century before Christ we 
 may well cast a glance backward. 
 
 As to the ages before N^vius, our utter poverty is but 
 
 shared with the Ciceronian time itself : on a previous page 
 
 the belief has been expressed that little or no 
 
 Supra, p. 4. j.g^i poetry had ever sprung out of the rugged 
 
 barren soil of Latian life and character. 
 
 But from Na^vius to Cicero the lover of literature trav- 
 erses a region of fragmentary ruins, or desolate sites, 
 unlike any section of Hellenic story, unless it be the period 
 of early lyric. It is indeed a capricious fate that tosses us 
 two bundles stuifed with Gra3Co-Italic comedies, of complex 
 
 66
 
 LOST WORKS AND AUTHORS 57 
 
 and questioned authorship, unfit to bo frankly discussed 
 in the hearing of youth, — and old Cato's manual for the 
 management of a Campanian farm. 
 
 Our regrets deepen to dismay if we are convinced, as 
 the present author is convinced, that the best qualities 
 of Roman character were lost in that century of domestic 
 bloodshed, and that the sturdy earlier traits 
 had, in all likelihood, already stamped them- 
 selves upon works, in prose and verse, fully worthy and 
 adequate to reveal the masterful spirit of the race. 
 
 The epic of Nsevius, even the "Annales " of Ennius, if put 
 into our hands to-day, would no doubt seem rough indeed, 
 compared with the Georgics or the ^neid. The orations 
 of Cato had little of Cicero's fluent and copious diction, 
 perhaps also a less transparent clearness of construction 
 and style. The " Origines " would reveal little of the Livian 
 or Herodotean charm. Possibly, as works of art, these 
 books would not appeal to the {esthetic critic at all : but 
 the Roman heart of oak, the sturdy spirit that tired out a 
 Hannibal at last, and imposed the heavy yoke of servitude 
 upon a fiercely resisting world, must have throbbed and 
 breathed in such utterances of such men. 
 
 The "De Rerum Natura,'' the ''Atys," the ^Eneid, the 
 " Pro Archia," the picturesque pages of Livy, aud even the 
 cynical etchings of Tacitus, are all the work of men wholly 
 cut off from political hopes or patriotic pride, seeking in 
 literature a lofty consolation, steeped to the lips in the 
 best Greek art, never sure how often any happy phrase 
 or rhythmic harmony was their own, how far an echo from 
 the diviner music of Hellas. Some or all of these later 
 Roman works the world accepts among its masterpieces. 
 Yet such later artists would hardly have touched, nor 
 could they rightly interjaret, the hearts of the Fabii and 
 the Marcelli of old. 
 
 The loss of the Grsco-Latin tragedies is less deplorable.
 
 58 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 yet also grave. In certain cases we would get a doubly 
 clear cross-light on Koman scholarship and taste, because 
 the Greek originals are in our hands. A curious bit of 
 philology inserted by Ennius early in the " Medea'' has been 
 
 mentioned. We may add that he suppressed 
 
 the first two verses of the Greek play alto- 
 gether, doubtless because his age knew the " Smiting 
 Kocks" of the myth to be unreal. Since these liberties 
 are taken at the very beginning of a version whose literal- 
 ness is emphasized by Cicero, we may suppose that the 
 Latin renderings usually reflected the tastes of a Eoman 
 translator, manager, and audience. 
 
 Pacuvius, a nephew, and, like Cfficilius, a protege, of 
 Ennius, was apparently also an adapter, or free translator, 
 220 B c - ^^ Greek tragedies. Cicero, who accords him 
 
 145 B.C. (?) i\^Q highest success among all Eomans in this 
 
 craft, does not hesitate to declare roundly : ''In this 
 Pacuvius is better than Sophocles, in whose jilay Ulysses 
 
 laments pitifully over his hurt" — while in 
 put., H., 21, Pacuvius's drama that wisest man of Greece, 
 '*'■ when wounded, "laments not in excess, but 
 
 quite moderately." Such bold canons of art might produce 
 something more valuable than a mere translation. Pacu- 
 vius was not only both tragedian and painter, but a writer 
 of SaturcB : a definition of which genre we again hesitate 
 to offer. 
 
 When the young Attius reads his ''Atreus " to the veteran 
 Pacuvius, we are reminded of the first step in Terence's 
 
 career. The titles show that Attius also is 
 
 Gellius, xlli., 2, 
 
 2. still serving up, to languid Roman audiences. 
 
 Supra, p. 49. ^i^g outworn myths of Hellas, heroic or divine. 
 The opening lines of Euripides's " Phoinissai," occurring 
 among his fragments, indicate his scope also as a rather 
 free translator. His ideas of Contmnmatio permitted 
 him, however, to combine with Sophocles's ''Antigone,"
 
 LOST WORKS AND AUTHORS 69 
 
 or " Philoctetes," suggestions from other Greek plays on 
 these favorite themes. 
 
 But the most significant fact of all is, that with Attius 
 tragedy not only culminated, but practically perished also. 
 He lived to see the beginnings of those gladiatorial sports 
 and lavish pageants against whose fatal attractiveness for 
 the vulgar eye and ear Horace protests with such humor- 
 ous sincerity. This gave the coiqy de grace to tragedy as a 
 popular diversion. We hear of later dramas occasionally 
 as written, rarely as acted. Augustus counted it to him- 
 self as a merit, that his own much-elaborated Ajax finally 
 *'fell upon the sponge": a witty allusion to the Sala- 
 minian hero's suicide. 
 
 Strangest of all is the failure of the Romans to encour- 
 age, and preserve, the original dramas on native and pa- 
 triotic themes, like Attius's " Brutus." The two chief 
 fragments of this play, preserved by Cicero, offer us a 
 ' di'sam of King Tarquin, and its explanation 
 
 Persians, vss. by the sccrs, who predict his dethronement. 
 
 181-99. rpj^g former passage seems clearly suggested 
 
 by Atossa's dream in Aischylos's " Persians." It runs : 
 
 " When at the night's command I gave my frame 
 To rest, calming with sleep my wearied limbs, 
 Toward me, in dream, it seemed a shepherd drove 
 A fleecy flock, of beauty wonderful : 
 And that I chose therefrom two kindred rams, 
 And sacrificed the fairer of the twain. 
 But then his brother with his horns assailed 
 And butted me, who thus was overthrown. 
 Falling, severely wounded, on the earth 
 Supine, a wondrous mighty miracle 
 In heaven I saw : — the sun's bright radiant orb 
 Gliding, with course unwonted, to the right !" 
 
 This is an unusually good piece of dignified and free- 
 handed imitation. We get the decided impression that
 
 60 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 such dramatic attempts were almost as artificial, imitative, 
 alien, as those on Greek themes. Though comedy, in some 
 form, may seem rooted in the universal instinct of mimic- 
 ry, serious drama is the rare production of many favor- 
 able conditions united. Possibly it requires not only the 
 genius of single creators, and the uplifting force of an 
 heroic age, like Shakespeare's, Corneille's, or Schiller's, but 
 also an audience in deep and earnest sympathy with the 
 artist's aims. One at least of two alternatives we must 
 accept. Either there was no room for drama as a serious 
 influence in the life and education of the Roman people, 
 or there was no body of patriotic legend sufficiently familiar 
 and dear to make effective appeal to them. Possibly both 
 these negatives may well be ventured. 
 
 Of a native and original comedy, Fabula togata, we 
 caught a glimpse under Nsvius. It seems to have had a 
 brief and precarious life. Mommsen does not believe that 
 the scene was ever permitted to be Rome itself, though the 
 titles and scanty fragments indicate at least a Latian local 
 setting and color. But this whole movement has vanished 
 quite as complel.oly as the old Atellan farce. Only one 
 ignoble fragment extends to five lines. The very names of 
 the poets, Titinius, Atta, Afranius, are forgot, their date 
 uncertain. — To serious Roman drama we shall return only 
 once, under Seneca. 
 
 LUCILIUS 
 
 (180-103 B.C.) 
 
 Lucilius's reckless productivity is rather maliciously 
 dilated on by Horace. Yet of his thirty rolls or "books" 
 surprisingly little that is quotable, or valuable, remains. 
 SaturcB, with him at least, are merely written to be read, 
 though the form of dialogue is not infrequent. The metres 
 vary. The general aim is a good-humored, half-cynical, 
 rather frankly subjective view of the political and social
 
 LOST WOKKS AND AUTHORS 61 
 
 world in all its phases. Such a direct and avowed " criticism 
 of life " is not true poetry. In general the Saiura seems by 
 this time not remote from Horace's or Johnson's use of 
 the term. As this is the one literary type constantly 
 claimed as a purely Eoman creation, we regret the loss of 
 Lucilius, though nearly every word we have of his is on 
 the smooth levels of commonplace. 
 
 A much greater freedom of criticism on public men was 
 permitted in such a form than in popular drama. Tlie 
 bold assault upon a later Metellus, in particular, must re- 
 mind us of Naevius's fate, which did not overtake Lucilius. 
 The glimpse here accorded us at the centre of the world's 
 traffic is anything but ideal, and indicates that the spirit 
 of metropolitan business life has changed little. 
 
 "But now from dawn to dark, on holiday 
 Or workday, and the whole day too, the folk 
 And senators bustle about the Forum, 
 Quitting it never, to one task and art 
 Devoted ; — to deceive most skilfully, 
 To fight with craft, to win by blandishments, 
 To make a stratagem of kindliness. 
 As if they all were foes of every one." 
 
 The satirist's own social philosophy is very thrifty, con- 
 servative, and simple. 
 
 " Man's virtue is to know each thing's true worth, 
 What's good or bad, useless, dishonest, base : 
 To know the limits in our quest of gain, 
 To pay the proper honor unto wealth. 
 To grant to office that which is its due, 
 To be the foe of evil men and deeds. 
 To count one's country's welfare first of all. 
 And next our parents' ; after that our own. " 
 
 What we miss most in this whole early Roman world 
 is the voice of the joyous lyric poet, soldier, boon com-
 
 62 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 panion, lover, dreamer, singiug for the pure delight in 
 life and song. No Archilochos, no Sappho, no Anacreon 
 do we hear, or hear of. Perhaps the rather stolid and 
 Philistine view of all human life and effort just cited may 
 hint the reason. 
 
 After Cato's broader and more philosophic study, history 
 among the Romans seems to have fallen back into the earlier 
 Lost His- form of prosaic annals, as dry and unartistic 
 
 torians. ^g ^^^y ^jjj Saxon Chronicle. Most to be 
 
 regretted is Fannius Strabo, son-in-law of Lselius, and 
 for a time active partisan of the Gracchi, because his 
 work included a full account of his own troublous times, 
 Ccelius Antipater, author of a monograph on the second 
 Punic war, by fondness for dreams, oracles, and marvels 
 generally, for the livelier dialogue form, poetic phrasing, 
 etc., perhaps shares Herodotos's influence, and in turn 
 affected Livy. Of brief autobiographical sketches, doubt- 
 less really political pamphlets, by Gains Gracchus and 
 others, we have but most meagre vestiges. 
 
 Perhaps most of all do we lament the loss of the Roman 
 orators. A very large number of speeches had been pre- 
 served,we know not how faithfully, beginning 
 with the plea of Appius Claudius against 
 peace with Pyrrhus. It would surely surprise even Cicero, 
 who, in his dialogue "Brutus," has left us the best his- 
 torical sketch of civic eloquence in Rome, to know that we 
 can no longer illustrate it by a single complete authentic 
 speech of any Roman save Cicero himself. 
 
 The scanty fragments perhaps justify Cicero's judgment, 
 that the greatest of all was the younger of the two mar- 
 Qaius Qracchus, tyred Gracclii, the generous champions of 
 
 1 121 B.C. ^j^g landless folk. The position of this fear- 
 
 less hero of a hopeless cause was most striking. His early 
 doom was clearly before his eyes. " He related to many
 
 LOST WORKS AND AUTHORS 63 
 
 that, when he hesitated to seek his first public office, his 
 brother Tiberius in a dream, said to him, *he might resist 
 
 Cicero de ^^ ^^^ vvould ; yet he would die even as he 
 
 Divinatione, himself had perished.' " The same fatalism is 
 
 I., 26, 56. heard in his burning words : " Whither shall 
 
 I turn in my misery ? To the Capitol ? It drips with 
 my brother's blood. To my home ? To see my wretched 
 mother lamenting and bowed to earth ? " A poet's pictu- 
 resque simplicity wings a patriot's scorn, when he cries : 
 ** Quirites, now that I have come to Rome, the money- 
 belts which I carried forth full, I have brought back from 
 ray province empty : the great Jars that others carried out 
 filled with wine, they fetched home again overflowing with 
 money." 
 
 But even this masterful voice reaches us only in a few 
 such ringing words. We turn from dim twilight of sur- 
 mise into sudden and blazing day : to the best-known age 
 and life, possibly, in all human annals. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 For a fuller treatment of most subjects in this chapter we can best 
 refer the English reader to Sellar, and to the translation of Mommsen. 
 There is an extraordinarily clear and graphic " RUckblick " in Schanz, 
 pp. 123-25. The noble character of the Gracchi, particularly of 
 Gaius, should be studied not only in the general histories, but in the 
 more sympathetic pages of Plutarch. Their failure was doubtless in- 
 evitable, but they saw aright the fatal danger. For Lucilius all 
 special students should refer to the exhaustive edition of the frag- 
 ments by Lucian Miiller.
 
 OHRONOLOOIOAL TABLES. 
 
 
 
 509-100 B.C. 
 
 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 B,C. 
 
 
 B.C. 
 
 
 509 
 
 Consuls first elected. 
 
 509 
 
 Treaty between R 
 
 488 Coriolanus retreats from 
 
 before Rome. 
 454 Three men Bent to Greece 
 
 to collect laws (Livy, 
 
 iii.,41). 
 451-450 The Decemvirs in power. 
 396 Camillus conquer b 'Veii. 
 
 390 Rome sacked and burned 
 
 by the Gauls. 
 
 339-338 Latin cities conquered. 
 321 Defeat of Romans by 
 
 Samnites at Caudine 
 
 Forks. 
 313 Aj^pius Claudius, as cen- 
 
 ». sor, begins Appian Way 
 
 and Claudian aqueduct. 
 290 End of Samnite wars. 
 
 280-272 War with Tarentum and 
 
 King Pyrrhus. 
 
 266 Italy completely under 
 
 Romjin rule. 
 264-241 First Punic War, chiefly 
 
 about Sicily. 
 241 Sicily a Roman province. 
 
 Carthage (Polyb., iii., 22). 
 493 Treaty with the Latins 
 
 (Dionys., vi., 95; Livy, 
 ii., 33). 
 
 451-450 Laws of the Twelve Tables 
 promulgated. 
 
 364 
 
 280 
 
 272 
 
 Etrurian actors appear at 
 the Ludi Momani. 
 
 Speech of Appius Claudius 
 against peace with Pyr- 
 
 rhus. 
 Livi 
 
 ivius Andronicus brought 
 to Rome a slave, from 
 Tarentum. 
 
 64
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES 
 
 65 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 B.C. 
 
 218-203 Second Punic War. 
 Hannibal in Italy. 
 217 Trasimenus. 
 216 Cannae. 
 207 Hasdrubal's army destroyed. 
 
 204 Scipio invades Africa. 
 
 B.C. 
 
 240 
 
 207 
 
 204 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 Tragedy and comedy pre- 
 sented by Andronicus 
 (Livy, vii., 2). 
 
 AndronicuH's hymn of in- 
 tercession sung in public. 
 
 Authors' guild founded. 
 
 On. Naevius, author of Epic 
 on Punic War, tragedies, 
 comedies, etc. (t204). 
 
 Quintus Fabius Pictor, ear- 
 liest Roman historian, 
 wrote in Greek (circa 225 
 
 B.C.). 
 
 Cato brings Ennius to 
 
 Rome. 
 Ennius, epic poet, drama- 
 tist, etc. (+169). 
 P 1 a u t u B, comedy-writer 
 
 (+184). 
 Cfecilius, comedy-writer 
 
 (tcirca 168). 
 Cato, historian, orator 
 
 (+149) . 
 Pacuvius, tragic author 
 
 (+circa 130 B.C.). 
 Terence, author of comedies 
 
 (185-159 B.C.). 
 
 190 
 
 Crushing defeat of Anti- 
 
 
 
 ochuB of Syria. 
 
 
 188 
 
 Death of Africanus, Han- 
 nibal, and Philopoimen. 
 
 
 168 
 
 Conquest of Macedonia. 
 
 
 167 
 
 Thousand Greek hostages, 
 including Polybios, taken 
 to Rome. 
 
 166-160 Terence's comedies ex- 
 hibited. 
 Lucilius, Satirist (180-103 
 B.C.). 
 
 149-146 Third Punic War.
 
 66 
 
 THE REPUBLICAN AGE 
 
 RC. 
 146 
 
 133 
 
 134 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 Destruction of Carthage 
 and Corinth. Africa> 
 Macedonia, Greece, Ro- 
 man provinces. 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 B.C. 
 
 145 
 
 Africanus 
 Numantia 
 
 de- 
 
 in 
 
 of 
 
 Younger 
 stroys 
 Spain. 
 Tribunate and murder 
 
 Tiberius Gracchus. 
 Galus Gracchus returns 
 from Sardinia, and is 
 elected tribune. 
 131 Death of Gaius Gracchua. 
 
 113-106 War with Jugurtha. 
 
 105 Gladiatorial contests made 
 
 a state festival. 
 
 103-101 Marius destroys the Teu- 
 tons and Cimbri. 
 
 Theatre, with wooden seats, 
 erected by Mummius. 
 
 106 
 
 At tins (or Accius), author 
 of tragedies (170-90 B.C.). 
 Birth of Cicero.
 
 BOOK II 
 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 (100-43 B.C.)
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE TIME AND THE MAN 
 
 When the younger Africanns, returning from his great 
 campaign in Spain, heard that his noble kinsman, Tibe- 
 Faii of Numantia, ^'i^^s Gracchus, had perished in the attempt 
 133 B.C. ^Q wrest the public lands from the oligarchy 
 
 and the "rings," to restore the sturdy type of free farmer 
 in Latium and Italy generally, — he showed his Hellenic 
 culture, and the short-sighted views of his caste, by quot- 
 ing the verse uttered, in the Homeric Olympos, on the 
 death of the dastard Aigisthos : 
 
 Odyssey, " ^^ may another perish, whoever does such 
 
 1., vs. 47. deeds." 
 
 A quarter-century more, and the decay of national charac- 
 ter appeared all but fatal. Jugurtha's exclamation "^ A city 
 saiiust, Jugur- ^^Y salc " Seemed prophetic. He himself for 
 tha, § 35 ad fin. years, and Mithridates, in the next genera- 
 tion, for decades, bribed, cajoled, or terrified Roman com- 
 manders and armies. The Roman dominion seemed ready 
 to drop to pieces like the Macedonian empire. 
 
 But perhaps the elder cultured races were too broken 
 in spirit to reassert themselves. The resistless move- 
 ment of our barbarian ancestors from the North into 
 Mediterranean lands was not to begin in earnest for ages. 
 Above all, even in that century of constant civic turmoil, 
 Rome produced a series of commanders so great, that even 
 lier selfish and murderous factions still ruled the provinces 
 with merciless strength, and finally handed on to Augustus 
 far more lands and revenues than the Scipionic age had 
 
 69
 
 70 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 dreamed of winning. Marius crushed Jugurtlui, and cut 
 to pieces the mighty vanguard of invading Teutons and 
 Celts. Pompey comjoleted Sulhi's Eastern conquests, de- 
 stroyed Mithridates, added many provinces in the Orient. 
 Caesar Romanized the chief Keltic lands, and made the 
 legionary eagles known and dreaded on the Thames, on the 
 Rhine, even for a day's march into the forests of uncon- 
 querable Germany. 
 
 The same marvellous age produced the two Roman poets 
 who show, in diverse fields, creative genius of the highest 
 order, and also the greatest master of prose style, — if he 
 Why the age of TO'T-J be judged by his influence on after- 
 cicero? times, — that ever lived. The forensic elo- 
 
 quence, in particular, of five modern languages, including 
 our own, in words, phrases, and spirit, is full of Tullian 
 echoes. Castelar, Cavour, Gambetta, Gladstone, Everett, 
 are alike fully conscious of Ciceronian influence. Julius 
 Offisar, in the world of action perhaps the mightiest strate- 
 gist and organizer that ever lived, was not even a close sec- 
 ond in the field of literature. In this volume, then, the 
 age of the giants, the age of turbulent transition from 
 republic to empire, is clearly the epoch of Cicero. 
 
 His public life and character we can touch only so far as 
 they aid to interpret his chief writings, particularly his 
 orations. He certainly seems out of place in that age of 
 violent force. Sharing with Pompey the old-fashioned 
 purity and love of family ties, Cicero also felt, even for 
 provincials, the humanity which Caesar limited to Romans, 
 though including in it his deadliest personal enemies. 
 Cicero's extraordinary vanity and self-consciousness, though 
 a source of weakness in all relations, was doubly fatal in 
 political action. Yet he was a true patriot, eager to sur- 
 pass his ideal prototype Demosthenes, and with a far more 
 bewildering path of duty before him. 
 
 The well-to-do middle class from which Cicero sprang
 
 THE TIME AND THE MAN 71 
 
 was itself vanishing. He himself, like Pompey, was pushed 
 upward by official honors into the senatorial and olgiar- 
 chical faction which called itself the republic. But the 
 future belonged to the mob, to the masterly Julius who 
 dominated it, to the cold-blooded young Octavian who 
 gathered all essential powers into his own hands, 
 
 Cicero's life was always lonely. Like Dante he heartily 
 admired no one, even in his own little faction, save him. 
 self : Brutus, he saw, was cruel and extortionate, Cato 
 truly porcine in his impracticable stubbornness, Sulpicius 
 a mere dreaming scholar, Lucullus an indolent epicure, 
 etc., etc. Worse still, it was all essentially true. The old 
 forms broke down because there was no one competent to 
 work them. Caesar's dictatorship was a necessity, his mur- 
 der a crime. Twenty months of chaos, terrible bloodshed, 
 and a harsher despotism, were the chief results. If this, 
 the prevailing view, be a true one, Cicero's public career 
 was a foreordained tragedy, his death a costly but necessary 
 assurance of peace. 
 
 He was hampered in certain crises, too, by a form of 
 cowardice which may have been purely physical. His 
 hasty flight when threatened by Clodius, his lachrymose 
 complainings in exile, are abundantly characterized in his 
 own letters. He dared not let the Catilinarian leaders live 
 overnight, he applauded and defended the murder of his 
 personal enemy Clodius by Milo, an equally lawless bravo, 
 he refused the leadership of the Pompeians, was the first 
 to make abject submission to Csesar, was not intrusted with 
 the secrets of Brutus's conspirators, yet rejoiced effusively 
 in the deed of the Ides. These are verdicts passed by the 
 man himself, or those who knew him best, not to be 
 reversed at this late day. 
 
 Perhaps the severest chance that has befallen him is the 
 preservation of his confidential letters, exposing every hesi- 
 tation, turning the flash-light of publicity on every petty
 
 f^2 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 and selfish motive. Few indeed of the world's heroes could 
 pass such scrutiny unscathed. Hardly one, of any age, is 
 so mercilessly unveiled to our eyes. That it is mainly a 
 self-revelation makes the matter no better. Possibly his 
 greatest service of all is thus to exemplify to us the essen- 
 tial oneness, the extreme humanness, of all men. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The bare outlines here suggested should be carefully filled up, or re- 
 drawn Tliequestion of Cicero's character can never be absolutely de- 
 ternnned. The present writer has set forth his beliefs most fully in 
 the Sewanee Review for July, 1900. 
 
 The most adverse view is taken in Professor Mommsen s powerful 
 volumes Middleton's " Life of Cicero " is still valuable, Forsyth s is 
 better, Boissier's " Ciceron et ses Amis " is yet more readable and up to 
 date, but the serious student must sit down, in a library of classical au- 
 thors, and work through Drumann's so-called - Geschichte Roms, 
 Vols V and VI., with their exhaustive references. 
 
 The best library edition of Cicero's complete works, in Latin, with- 
 out notes, is Baiter and Kayser's, Tauchnitz, in eleven volumes.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 CICERO AS AN ORATOR 
 
 Of the personal influences that led Cicero to legal and 
 rhetorical studies he accords many pleasant glimpses, e.g. 
 at the beginning of the " De Amicitia," and much more co- 
 piously in the " De Oratore," where Antonius and Crassus in 
 particular are lovingly portrayed. It is true, however, that 
 'in Crassus Cicero is often describing himself. His youth- 
 ful relations with the Greek poet Archias, and with the 
 venerable Accius, are well known. Born, like 
 
 Cf. supra, p. 23. ' 
 
 his kinsman Marius, at Arpinum, he was 
 carefully educated in the capital. 
 
 His first public appearance seemed courageous. It was 
 toward the close of the reign of terror under Sulla. A rich 
 Umbrian named Eoscius had been murdered 
 in Rome. The probable culprits, two of his 
 kinsmen, then agreed with Chrysogonus, an all-jDOwer- 
 f ul f reedman and favorite of the dictator, to put the victim's 
 name on the list of the proscribed, and divide his confis- 
 cated wealth. When Roscius's young son resisted this sec- 
 ond outrage, he was himself accused of parricide. 
 
 No other lawyer ventured to defend the innocent youth, 
 says Cicero, who explains his own daring by his obscurity, 
 but seems to have had for some reason powerful protection 
 in Sulla's own circle. Though successful, he yet spent 
 the next years, while Sulla lived, travelling in Greece, 
 " for his health," as he himself truthfully explained. The 
 great teacher, Molon of Rhodes, removed at this time from 
 Cicero's style " a certain Asiatic floridness and overful- 
 
 73 
 

 
 74 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 iiess " which we should never have missed. This speech, 
 Pro Roscio Ameriiio, like many of the others, betrays later 
 revision. No youth could have said to Sulla's face : " Not 
 merely tlieliahit of mercy, but even of inquiry, has vanished 
 from the commonwealth in these clays." 
 
 As quajstor in Sicily Cicero became the 
 
 favorite, and future champion, of the op- 
 pressed provincials. His rediscovery of Archiniedes's tomb 
 
 must give a thrill of envy to any true ar- 
 ^*al,64^' ^'' chaeologist. His humanity was genuine, as 
 
 his hatred of gladiatorial sports indicates. 
 The impeachment of tlie rapacious Verres was creditable 
 but not extremely dangerous. Since Sulla's death the old 
 
 forms had been restored to decent activity. 
 
 70 B.C. -^ 
 
 Ihe case was a notorious scandal. Cicero 
 collected an overwhelming mass of evidence in Sicily. 
 After the preliminary hearing the great Hortensius gave 
 up the case, while Verres hastened into exile. The five 
 long "books" of the "second action" were never de- 
 livered, but as published they throw a flood of light on 
 provincial conditions. This case at once made Cicero the 
 leader of the bar, but did not cost him Hortensius's personal 
 good-will. A lawyer received no fee, save generous pres- 
 ents and legacies, but the way to civic office was now 
 open. 
 
 This was the year of Pompey's first consulship. The 
 two acted together in restoring the popular tribunes, re- 
 admitting the equites to sit with senators on such cases as 
 Verres's, in general in strengthening the middle class, 
 which Sulla had crushed. This personal alliance lasted 
 some years, and its chief monument is the extravagant 
 eulogy called Pro lege Manilia, which won 
 for Pompey the supreme command against 
 Mithridates. There was little genuine affection on either 
 side. On the other hand, a real congeniality, a mutual
 
 CICERO AS AN ORATOR 75 
 
 charm, always bound together Cf^sar and Cicero, whose 
 political plans never ran parallel. 
 
 The year of Cicero's consulate carried him quite over 
 into the aristocratic party. In January he was still "not 
 63 B.C. ^ consul who, like most, think it a sin to 
 
 De Lege Agraria, praisc the Gracchi." In November, in the 
 
 ''■'^* harangues against Catiline, he cited the 
 
 heroic brothers repeatedly among the notorious traitors, 
 justly slain, of earlier days. The hatred and fear of 
 Catiline, with whom the democratic leaders, even Ca?sar, 
 appear to have been somewhat implicated, the personal ad- 
 vances of the old nobles, the excessive confidence in his own 
 position Q.?, 2mter patrim, may all have aided this change. 
 
 The four speeches ''against Catiline" are vivid and 
 sufficiently authentic memorials of this proud epoch in the 
 orator's career, but have been elaborated and polished in 
 later years. The extravagant and abusive marshalling of 
 In Cat., i\. Catiline's host is the least pleasing. The 
 
 passim., third speech is tlie happiest, and of it the 
 
 Cf. supra, p. 53. three first and last sentences should be per- 
 fectly familiar to every student. The clear, copious style, 
 the resonant periodic structure, even the frank self-con- 
 sciousness, are perfectly characteristic of all Ciceronian 
 expression. There is a rhythm, also, which all can hear 
 and recognize, even a verse-effect in 
 
 Fortunatissimam pulcherrimamque tirhem, 
 Deorum immortalium summo erga vos amore, 
 Laboi'ibus consiliis periculisque meis. 
 
 There is nothing better in its kind. No imitator has 
 surpassed or can surpass the master. Self-conscious, elab- 
 orated rhetoric it still remains. But eloquence has 
 higher possibilities. In Demosthenes, Burke, Webster, we 
 have passages where art either effaces itself, or is really 
 lost in the volcanic utterance of the heart. Lincoln's
 
 76 THE CICERONIAN" AGE 
 
 Gettysburg speech, jotted hastily, it is said, upon an odd 
 scrap of paper and thrown away after delivery, is hickily 
 preserved to us by a stenographer's notes. Lincoln was 
 quite unaware that he had created an eternal masterpiece. 
 Cicero, too, may well liave risen to sucli outbursts : but if 
 so, lie has himself refined and polished them out of sight 
 in the revision. 
 
 The most dexterous and witty plea of the eventful year 
 came late in November. Murena, a rough, fearless soldier, 
 had been elected consul for 62. Bribery of the rabble 
 voters seems to have been even more general and shameless 
 than usual. The noble and scholarly jurist Sulpicius, a 
 defeated candidate for whom Cicero himself had labored, 
 brought suit to invalidate the election. But Catiline was 
 in arms in Etruria. The times demanded a man of action. 
 A new election might even mean a radical success, or a 
 fatal interregnum. 
 
 So Cicero accepted a brief for Murena, and won. He ap- 
 parently, even, saved his personal friendship with Sulpicius, 
 whom he lived to eulogize splendidly after death, in the 
 ninth Philippic. Even young Cato, on whom Cicero also 
 showered ridicule because he appeared as Sulpicius's advo- 
 cate, only remarked with the harsh smile of his great- 
 grandsire : " AVhat a buffoon our consul is I" There is 
 indeed much effective jesting on the forms of legal pro- 
 cedure, and on the affectations of philosophers. But 
 Sulpicius was the greatest jurist, Cato the most heroic, 
 consistent Stoic of their day : and no man appreciated 
 them more adequately than Cicero. 
 
 The " Pro Archia Poeta " is a deserving favorite. The 
 political, even the legal element, is small, and lias prob- 
 ably been abridged by the author. The pre- 
 vailing tone is sincere and tender. While 
 nominally pleading the cause of his old teacher, whose 
 Roman citizenship had been questioned, Cicero expresses
 
 CICERO AS AN ORATOR 77 
 
 his gratitude to Greek artists in general, and that delight 
 in letters which is the " common link^' among scholars of 
 every age and land. It is by such utterances that Cicero 
 has won the lasting affection, if not the unqualified admira- 
 tion, of all who love literature and share in philosophic 
 thought. Yet the orator really cared little for Archias, 
 who was, in fact, a rather clever Greek rhetorician. 
 
 Cicero was undoubtedly invited to join the little political 
 cabal or ring misnamed the first triumvirate. His hesita- 
 tion, whether due to vanity or patriotism, 
 finally led Cfesar to push Clodius forward. 
 The bill first offered by Clodius did not name Cicero, but 
 outlawed those who had put citizens to death without 
 trial. Yet the application to the Catilinarian executions 
 was understood by all. The banishment of 
 Cicero, brief as it was, clipped his wings 
 permanently. He could never again become dangerous 
 as a heroic leader. After one or two attempts to reassert 
 himself he relapsed into rather sullen submission, later 
 even defending personal enemies at the suggestion of 
 Caesar or Pompey. 
 
 Such justification as could be made for this policy is to 
 be sought not, naturally, in any speech, but in the long 
 
 g ^ letter to Lentulus, which was evidently 
 
 Epist. ad Fam., meant for publication as an Apologia. At 
 
 ■' '* best it is no heroic tale. He has but fol- 
 
 lowed Pompey ; Caesar's kindness is irresistible : the aris- 
 tocratic leaders have been most ungrateful and impracti- 
 cable : self-preservation is the law of life. Until after 
 Caesar's death, the voice of Cicero the statesman is silenced. 
 Yet there are meantime several speeches of his too im- 
 portant to pass over. 
 
 In his defence of Caelius Rufus, who had been a lover of 
 the notorious Clodia, probably supplanting the poet Catul- 
 lus, the lady is assailed in a fashion that no modern
 
 78 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 court-room would tolerate. From the charges of having 
 defrauded Clodia, aud of having tried to poison her, 
 S6B.C. Caelius was acquitted; but we get a lurid 
 
 Cf. Infra, p. ii6. glimpse at the social conditions. Catiline, 
 long an intimate of Caelius, has to be generously white- 
 washed : and here Cicero confesses to some inconsistency 
 with the fierce diatribes of G3 B.C. 
 
 The speech for Milo was never delivered. Rome was in 
 a state of anarchy, Caesar being in Gaul, and Pompey at 
 home, slowly squandering the fame of his 
 early victories by his supine incompetence. 
 The uproar even at the trial frightened Cicero, so that he 
 broke down utterly. Milo in exile warmly praised the 
 written speech, and rejoiced at the failure: " Else I should 
 not be enjoying the mullets of Marseilles.^'' 
 
 Still less pleasing to Cicero's admirers is the group of 
 clever pleas uttered to the dictator Caesar by the most il- 
 lustrious, stately, obsequious, of his court- 
 iers. For him who would stand at a mon- 
 arch's footstool to crave his clemency, the Pro Marcello, 
 Pro Ligario, etc., are models of grace and skill. 
 
 Most heroic of all epochs in this varied life are the twenty 
 months between Caesar's murder and that of Cicero him- 
 self. The contrast with Antony's craft, cruelty, licen- 
 tiousness, and lawlessness, made the cause of the nobles 
 seem well worth fighting for. The fury of the strife soon 
 left no hope of any choice save victory or death. Cic- 
 ero is at bay. 
 
 The second and greatest of the " Philippics," or dia- 
 tribes against Antony, was never delivered. The whole 
 series is the chief source of knowledge for that important 
 period. One is glad indeed to hear an absolutely frank 
 and fearless voice in these latter days, even though it shares 
 the general savagery and fury of civil strife. Cicero, of 
 course, never gave to these harangues a calm, painful
 
 CICEKO AS AN ORATOR 79 
 
 revision, and no later hand appears to have meddled with 
 them. 
 
 The political judgment of the patriotic leaders can hardly 
 be admired. That Octavian, intrusted with high com- 
 mand, would turn against the slayers of his adoptive father, 
 might surely have been surmised. To Cicero's death he 
 seems to have consented reluctantly. Yet, even without 
 the furious insistence of Antony, Julius's fate might 
 have taught the cold-hearted, long-sighted youth the ne- 
 cessity for heroic surgery. Like nearly every Roman, 
 Cicero died bravely, with a touch of tenderness and care 
 for his servants, at the very last, which we may fairly call 
 Christian. It was fortunate that he did not linger be- 
 lated, on the changing scene, to become again the chief 
 courtier of a Caesar. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 For all Cicero's orations there is a creditable edition, with English 
 notes, by George Long, in four volumes of the stately " Bibliotheca 
 Classica." The "Philippics," or speeches against Antony, are still 
 better elucidated by King in the Clarendon Press Series. School edi- 
 tions of the Catilinarians, Archias, Manilian, and a few others, are 
 numberless. A mature student should take in hand rather Heitland's 
 " Pro Murena," or even the repellent " Pro Cluentio " — a terrible family 
 poisoning case, reminding us of Borgian times in Italy — edited by 
 Ramsay. 
 
 English readers will find the Bohn Cicero fairly good, though not 
 comparable with Kennedy's masterly Demosthenes. Cicero is easy 
 to understand, very hard for us to appreciate as a stylist or to trans- 
 late aright. Though most of his words have come over into Eng- 
 lish, they meet there Saxon synonyms, and so are apt to sound turgid, 
 needlessly polysyllabic, and also colorless when their composition is 
 no longer self-evident. Whatever the reason, he has not been well 
 translated.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE CICERONIAN CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 The letters, like the orations, cover most of Cicero's 
 career, and are a precious source for the history of the 
 times. Much less than the orations, however, as is nat- 
 ural, are they in literary form. Especially is this true of 
 the most valuable, the confidential epistles to Atticus, 
 never meant for alien eyes. On the other hand, some 
 Ad Fam., I., 9. of the letters to other friends, like that to 
 Supra, p. 77. Lentulus already mentioned, are political or 
 personal pamphlets, very likely manifolded and circulated 
 more or less widely at the time, as a statesman now gives 
 Ad Quintum ^ personal letter to the reporters. Even a 
 Fratrem.i., I. genuine brotherly letter to Qnintus Cicero 
 may contain advice and warnings to a provincial governor 
 almost as instructive to us as the arraigning of Verres. 
 
 Furthermore these eight hundred letters are by no means 
 all written by Cicero. For example, in the collection ** ad 
 Familiares," the entire eighth book consists of Cselius's 
 cynical, gossipy budgets of news from Rome to a homesick 
 friend in far Cilicia. Cfelius's lawless wit, or the heavier 
 dignity of Sulpicius, varies distinctly from Cicero's own 
 style, which again, when he whispers to Atticus, is ellipti- 
 cal, allusive, interlarded with Greek, sometimes half inar- 
 ticulate for fear of his own carrier's treachery : but stately, 
 periodic, in full dress, while he justifies himself painfully 
 to Lentulus and to us. 
 
 It is needless to argue in detail the many-sided value and 
 interest of this great collection, which sets forth the 
 
 80
 
 THE CICERONIAN CORRESPONDENCE 81 
 
 private life of Roman gentlemen as no other documents 
 could do. Sometimes the briefest enclosure seems most 
 happily chosen to throw a clear light on character. Thus 
 Cicero returning from Cilicia, full of pride over some 
 skirmishes with mountain tribes, hopeful even of a tri- 
 umph, finds the Roman world convulsed, on the edge 
 of civil war, and hesitates long between Pompey and 
 Caesar. 
 
 The former's summons is as gruff as a corporaFs to a 
 AdAtt. vHi.. raw recruit : "^ I decide you should join us 
 ^^ ^- at Luceria ; for I think you will be safest 
 
 there." No word more, save the curtest facts as to move- 
 ments of troops. Caesar, amid the same turmoil, sends at 
 least three letters, each a little masterpiece, displaying that 
 gracious tact and keen perception of character by which 
 he swayed all who came within his reach. He begs that 
 he may see Cicero, '' to avail myself of your judgment, 
 AdAtticum, ix., yoi-^r influence, your position and your as- 
 ^' ^- sistance, in all that concerns me." , . . 
 
 *'To find my conduct approved by you is a triumph of 
 AdAtticum.ix., gratification." "What more suitable part 
 6. Ibid. X., 8, B. ig there for a peace-loving man, and a good 
 citizen, than to hold aloof from civil dissensions?" This 
 is his final plea, as Cicero's veering sail fills on the other 
 tack at last. 
 
 Another charm in these letters is the tone of kindly 
 amenity, of good-fellowship, of tenderness even, among 
 those of whom we else might think as in constant strife, 
 so troublous is the age as a whole. Most admired, per- 
 haps, of the letters is one written by Sulpi- 
 AdFam..iv.,s. cius, from Athens, on the death of Tullia, 
 Cicero s only daughter and chief comfort. 
 Another epistle of nearly the same date by the same hand, 
 giving a graphic account of Marcellus's death, is curiously 
 different in style, though both are models. Indeed, the
 
 82 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 number of Romans who wrote witli perfect ease, clear- 
 ness, and simplicity was evidently great. But Cicero 
 himself is, of course, supreme, and has in 
 fact exercised ever since his day a dominant 
 influence over letter-writing, cultivated as a fine art, with 
 an eye on posterity. 
 
 Among Cicero's correspondents three men are most con- 
 n. Junius Bru- stantly mentioned, who may perhaps best be 
 tu8, 85-43 briefly discussed here. Brutus phiys so large 
 a part in the tragic scene of the Ides, and in 
 the Shakespearean play, that his name at least is to all men 
 familiar. The question whether he was actually Caesar's 
 son is a curious chapter of the chronique scandaleuse, 
 which we can hardly unseal even if we would. His im- 
 portance as an orator has been touched upon elsewhere. 
 His character is still under debate. One side of it is inde- 
 Epist. ad Att., fensible, for Cicero refers in great indigna- 
 V., ai ; vi., a. ^Jq^ q^^^ evident sincerity to his friend's 
 rapacity, cruelty, and lawlessness in his relations with 
 provincials. 
 
 Atticus might be reckoned among the historians, as 
 his chief work was a chronological table of events for 
 ^'~' , fully seven centuries, from the founding 
 
 T. Pomponlus . •' . '^ 
 
 Atticus, 109- of Rome to about 50 B.C. The magis- 
 3a B.C. trates' names were entered in a form to 
 
 "^^^Atti' s"' **' ^^^ ^^^^ tracing of kinship. In general At- 
 ticus was an enthusiast in genealogy, and 
 wrote special treatises on the "trees" of various leading 
 families. As an antiquarian he was quite overshadowed by 
 Varro, and his largest usefulness was perhap s as a pub- 
 lislier. Th:ii is, he employed a large force of slave s in copy - 
 ing manuscripts for sale. To liini might 1)0 attri buted i n 
 part the preservation of Cicero's work. Even the disappear- 
 ance of his own letters might be explained by the caution 
 of a man who managed to maintain cordial friendship alike
 
 THE CICERONIAN CORRESPONDENCE 83 
 
 with Pompey and Caesar, Brutus and Mark Antony, and 
 who spent his old age under the rule of Cicero's murderers. 
 But Atticus's harmless antiquarian works have all vanished 
 too. 
 
 Quintus Cicero, a harsh and headstrong man, is distinctly 
 a minor figure in literature. His one extant book, or 
 Q. Tuiiius cice- pamphlet, offers advice to his elder brother on 
 dJ"' p^titkfnf '^^^6 ^^^ o^ candidacy for office. Quintus 
 
 Consuiatus. w^as Unhappily married to Atticus's sister, and 
 some of the most human pages of the correspondence touch 
 upon their domestic quarrels. Quintus, and his only son, 
 shared Marcus's fate in 43 B.C. 
 
 Many striking figures appear less frequently in the let- 
 ters. Some of them arouse a strong desire for a fuller 
 acquaintance. Perhaps the finest antithesis to the witty, 
 dissolute, and unprincipled Caelius is a certain Matins, a 
 life-long friend of Cicero, who in May, 44, writes a single 
 letter of proud self-defence. He had loved Cassar ; the 
 AdPamii., xi., man, not the politician; he will not be re- 
 
 ^*- strained from frank expression of his grief. 
 
 He hopes to spend his last days peacefully in Rhodes : but 
 ** No peril has such terrors as to deter me from gratitude 
 or humanity." He had openly disapproved Caesar's inva- 
 sion of the fatherland. He will now fearlessly deplore his 
 murder. 
 
 The young Cato is much oftener mentioned, and writes 
 one rather able letter, but hardly appears at all in Roman 
 Ad Famii., xv., literature as an author. Plutarch knew one 
 
 *• speech of his, that against Catiline's accom- 
 
 plices : yet this may have been Sallust's elaborate composi- 
 tion. Cato was the great-grandson of the famous censor, 
 and a certain wilful self-assertion and crudeness of temper 
 seemed an heirloom in the house. As Caesar complained, 
 he was excessively fortunate in his spectacular death. Hard 
 pressed by the dictator's troops, he shut himself up in
 
 84 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 Utica, and when the town was doomed to fall, after read- 
 ing Plato all night, calmly stabbed himself. Caesar craved 
 the luxury of pardoning such a man. 
 
 Sulpicius Rufus, already referred to, was the chief jurist 
 and codifier of law in his generation, the true successor to 
 that Mucins Scsevola under whom Cicero began his legal 
 studies. The best lawyers of the next generation were in 
 this period accounted Sulpicius's pupils. In contrast with 
 Quintiiian, lo, his One hundred and eighty learned books, 
 7> 30. chiefly legal, his three orations praised by 
 
 Quintiiian were forgotten. 
 
 This list, which might be greatly extended, is offered 
 merely to illustrate the vivid though insufficient light 
 thrown on many lives, and on the general life of the age, 
 by these priceless letters. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The letters have received extraordinary attention of late years. 
 There were four different collections, Cicero to and from his family 
 and various friends sixteen books, to Quintus Cicero three, to Atticus 
 sixteen, and a series to and from Brutus. The arrangement is not 
 chronological. Many dates are lacking, and not all can be sujjplied 
 from the contents. 
 
 A complete edition with notes is edited by Professor R. Y. Tyrrell, 
 and Professor Shuckburgh has also undertaken a translation of the 
 entire series. Anotlior highly useful pair of books is the annotated 
 edition of 148 selected letters, illustrating the political career of Cicero, 
 by Watson, and a very spirited translation of the same epistles by 
 Jeans. In this particular field the young English student is better 
 served than the German. 
 
 The teacher should supplement this chapter by readings from Jeans 
 or Shuckburgh. On Atticus'e life, Nepos is our chief authority, on 
 Cato and Brutus Plutarch should be read.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE RHETORICAL WORKS 
 
 Of all the essays on rhetoric and oratory found among 
 Cicero's works, indeed of all the Latin books on this sub- 
 ject, the most practical, well-proportioned, and directly 
 useful is a volume demonstrably not his, dedicated to a 
 Marius, t86 Certain Herennius. It was composed by a 
 
 ^■^- partisan of Marius, shortly after the great 
 
 leader's death. Quintilian, quoting from it repeatedly, 
 names as the author Cornificius. He seems to have been a 
 man of bold public character, frank, vigorous speech, and 
 earnest convictions. The technical nomenclature was, he 
 claims, largely created by him, and was adopted in all later 
 manuals. His examples are chosen largely from recent 
 speeches, and reveal his own warm partisanship. Espe- 
 Ad Herennium, cially fine is the indignant yet picturesque ac- 
 
 Jv., 55- count, quoted from an unknown source, of 
 
 Tiberius Gracchus's murder. 
 
 This essay, though a technical manual based on Greek 
 originals, is really a creditable piece of literary work. At 
 the close the grave Roman sense of proportion, the con- 
 sciousness of rank, of a career, of large duties, reduces the 
 whole treatise to its proper sphere : " We have other and 
 better aims, which we pursue in life far more strenuously, 
 so that even if, in oratory, we attain not what we would, 
 yet only a minor part of a most complete life will be lack- 
 ing." This alone suffices to show that it is not Cicero who 
 speaks. 
 
 Cicero's own youthful essay in two books, known as the 
 
 85
 
 86 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 " Ue Inventione," discussing the materials of the rhetori- 
 cian's art only, is confessedly incomplete. It is a very im- 
 mature performance, and often copies verbatim from the 
 master-work just described, which had then recently ap- 
 peared. 
 
 The " De Oratore," on the other hand, is the most sus- 
 tained and elaborate attempt ever made by Cicero to imitate 
 De Oratore, pub- the Plutonic dialogue-form. Dramatic, in- 
 
 lished 55 B.C. (Jecd, he could never be, for self-effacement is 
 with him impossible. Though embittered somewhat by his 
 exile, and cut off from real activity in politics, Cicero had 
 not then met the worst humiliations of his life. He was at 
 the full maturity of his powers. He is writing with care, 
 at his leisure, on his chief subject of life-long interest. 
 The scene is set in September of the year 91 B.C., at a villa 
 in the beautiful region about Tusculum. Antonius, Crassus, 
 and the other masters of eloquence who appear in the dia- 
 logue, were really known personally to the precocious boy 
 Cicero, down to the tragic death of most of them in the 
 reign of terror under Marius and Ciuna. The high ideal of 
 oratory, as a civic need, reminds one of Cato's definition, 
 that the orator is "a good man speaking." If all the 
 characters talk much alike, it is partly because all Romans 
 thought alike on such themes. 
 
 The elaborate setting of the dialogue gives a pleasant 
 picture of elegant life in the suburban villas. Though 
 Cicero was rash to challenge comparison with the famous 
 De Oratore, i., discussiou bctwcen Pliaidros and Socrates 
 
 7> ^8. under the plane-tree on the river-bank, he at 
 
 least quite holds his own with Xenophon's rustic scene and 
 dialogue in the " Oiconomicos." As a whole the work is 
 diffuse, because constant effort is made to break and 
 lighten the technical passages by incidental illustration or 
 by-play : yet the whole ground of rhetoric is fairly gov. 
 ered.
 
 THE RHETORICAL WORKS 87 
 
 In a passage clearly marked as a digression, the subject 
 of humor and wit is intrusted as it were to a specialist, 
 De Orat., ii., 54, C«sar Strabo. The examples quoted are 
 ^'^ "• largely savage retorts of lawyers or politi- 
 
 cians. Thus, to cite the first case, Catulus, whose name 
 means puppy, had raised his voice in debate. When his 
 opponent said : " Why do you bark?" the answer came 
 back : "Because I see a thief I" So a stubborn man, a 
 fourth son, is told, " If your mother should bear a fifth, it 
 would be an ass." But Roman wit in general is both 
 heavy and sardonic. 
 
 The reader's interest flags somewhat before the three 
 days' conversation ends : unless he is making a thorough 
 study of the most copious, lucid, graceful, Latin style ever 
 attained. In this, as in all his larger essays, Cicero creates a 
 goodly number of technical Latin words to match familiar 
 Greek terms. 
 
 The whole work is dedicated to the author's younger 
 brother Quintus, who had held that oratory, like poetry, 
 is a matter of innate power. Marcus regards it rather 
 as a final consummate result of all liberal study and 
 training. The early " De Inventione" is 
 mentioned, only to be dismissed as boyish, 
 incomplete, and unworthy. Altogether, this is the most 
 important of all Cicero's essays. 
 
 In the " Brutus," under the form of a dialogue between 
 
 Pomponius Atticus, Cicero himself, and the young tyran- 
 
 Brutus, publish- uicidc, wc liavc an excellent brief sketch 
 
 ed 46 B.C. of the rise and progress of Roman oratory. 
 
 The living masters of eloquence are as a rule passed over, 
 yet three or four are discussed, while the chief speaker 
 coyly yields to his friends' persistence, and reviews his own 
 laborious attainment of perfection. Some curious details 
 even of his youthful figure, mannerisms, etc., are included. 
 This essay is quite indispensable, as an liistoric sketch, but
 
 88 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 there is an utter and deplorable lack of material to illus- 
 trate it. Even such imperial figures as the elder Cato and 
 Gaius Gracchus are now dim and all but silent shades. 
 
 The " Orator," a sort of ideal delineation, has again 
 many vivid personal touches. Toward its close is a special 
 Orator published treatment of rhythm, each form of metrical 
 46 B.C. 58, foot being frankly assigned to a special emo- 
 '^ ' tional purpose. This essay, also, is dedicated 
 
 in its sub-title ad Marcum Brutum. Cicero was well 
 aware that many were coming to prefer Brutus's curt, 
 sinewy, unadorned style to his own. Indeed it is probable 
 that Cicero would now seem quite too florid, Brutus far 
 the more masterful. 
 
 The minor rhetorical studies have little value or weight 
 as literature. One is in fact a sort of elementary catechism 
 arranged as a text-book of questions and answers for the 
 young Marcus. On the other hand, there still remains 
 to be mentioned the mass of writings, through which this 
 remarkable man most vitally influenced the thought of the 
 Middle Ages. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The sul)ject does not exactly belong to general literature, but rather 
 to science. Cicero, however, was pre-eminently fitted for a popular 
 treatment of the art in which he made unflagging studies and efforts, 
 and in which he has probably never been surpassed. The translation 
 of his two chief essays, by Watson, in the Bohn Library, seems adequate 
 as a rule. There is a convenient American edition of the "Brutus" 
 with English notes by Kellogg, and an exhaustive British one of the 
 " De Oratore," in three volumes, by Wilkins In the introduction 
 to the latter is a very thorough analysis of the " Ad Ilerennium," 
 which is regarded as the best type of what we may call the school 
 rhetoric of the Romans.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS, AND OTHER WORKS. 
 
 Luck, Fate, or Providence, has been astonishingly gen- 
 erous to Cicero's fame as a writer. His orations, his cor- 
 respondence, his essays in all fields, have usually survived, 
 alone or with hardly a rival. Even as a philosopher he was 
 for many centuries assigned a leading position, and many of 
 his hasty translations or free recastings of Greek work are 
 still indispensable to us. 
 
 Yet this is almost wholly a mischance. It is due to the 
 all but total loss of the Stoic, Epicurean, and Academic 
 writings in their original form. Of course Cicero does not 
 share the silliness, the bewilderment, the boundless inac- 
 curacy, of Diogenes Laertius, the Greek ''biographer" of 
 the philosophers. He is tolerably accurate as a rule, al- 
 ways rational, and his st3'le is at least never obscure or dif- 
 ficult. 
 
 Cicero was hardly a real philosopher, but a serious, 
 thoughtful, and scholarly man, interested in the attempts 
 of others to solve the chief moral and theological problems. 
 His work in this field was taken up late in life, as a conso- 
 lation and diversion in bereavement, in political disappoint- 
 ment, in enforced exile from a public career. It was done, 
 as a rule, in feverish haste. Cicero's own allegiance was to 
 the '' New Academy." With him, however, this means little 
 more than an open-minded eclecticism, a willingness to 
 supply fluent restatements in Latin forms for all the schools, 
 while remaining distinctly sceptical as to the attainment 
 of absolute truth. 
 
 89
 
 90 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 We feel that the practical, utilitarian, gravely Roman 
 spirit pervades and modifies every page. He is by no means 
 a satisfactory interpreter of his Greek masters. But their 
 voices are silent. 
 
 Even the Latin terminology, largely invented by Cicero, 
 lias passed into the languages of all Western Europe, and 
 has not yet given place to the Greek terms. In one great 
 respect Cicero was a true Socratic : he sought helpful 
 moral truths which could be applied to daily life. 
 
 Cicero's first known venture in this field was in some re- 
 spects the boldest, for he undertook to rival Plato's master- 
 D Re Pubiica piscc with a Latin dialogue, in six books, on 
 published the State. The scene was laid in 129 B.C., 
 
 * ■ ■ in the gardens of Scipio yEmilianus. We 
 
 have copious fragments only, chiefly recovered in the nine- 
 teenth century from a palimpsest. The conversation trav- 
 ersed familiar lines, discussing the three forms, kingdom, 
 aristocracy, democracy, and the distortion of each in ty- 
 ranny, oligarchy, ochlocracy, as in Aristotle's "Politics." A 
 fusion of the three nobler forms seems preferable. In- 
 stead of Plato's little ideal state is substituted the actual 
 and mighty commonwealth of Rome itself, of which an his- 
 torical sketch is given by Scipio, in Book II. 
 
 As Plato ended his volume with a picture of the rewards 
 appointed for the righteous in the next world, so Cicero 
 closes with a dream of Scipio on the same theme. This 
 final passage is preserved entire. The mystical elements 
 of Plato's vision are nearly all stript off. For instance, of 
 reincarnation there is no hint. AVe are merely uplifted for 
 the moment to the Milky Way, to be assured that a glorious 
 and abiding home is there prepared for the souls of the 
 good, especially of those "who have preserved, aided, 
 strengthened their native land ; " words which Cicero 
 could hardly have written without self-consciousness. The 
 practical realistic Roman temper is here unmistakable : yet
 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS AND OTHER WORKS 91 
 
 the dream, the dialogue as a whole, is on nearly every page 
 indebted to Plato and his successors. Both these truths 
 are indeed fairly faced in the first sentence of Macrobius's 
 prolix commentary on the Dream : " Between Plato's book 
 and Cicero's . . . this difference is seen at first glance: 
 . . . the one has discussed what ought to be, the other 
 what was established by the forefathers: yet . . . the 
 imitation has preserved the likeness." 
 
 The title of the "Laws " is also taken from Plato. The 
 dialogue is carried on by the two Ciceros and Atticus. We 
 have only three books, but there were at 
 ^si^B^*"**' ^ea.&t five. The patriotic pride of the Eo- 
 
 mans is here still more prominent. The 
 sacral laws given in Book II. differ little from those in 
 actual use, and credited to Numa. This is 
 indeed remarked by Atticus, and warmly 
 defended by Marcus Cicero. So, too, the civic govern- 
 ment outlined in Book III. is essentially the 
 ad init." °^^ Romau Constitution. Yet the debt to 
 
 Plato, and other Greeks, is cordially ac- 
 knowledged. 
 
 The unwelcome proconsulate in Cilicia, and the war be- 
 tween Cassar and Pompey, made a break of half a decade 
 Cicero in Cilicia ^^ Ciccro's Career as a writer. But the last 
 51-50 B.C. three years of his life show amazing activity 
 Civil War, jj^ evcry field. We can do little more than 
 
 49-47 B.C. -^ 
 
 catalogue his chief essays. Nearly all are in 
 the form of dialogues, but the dramatic illusion is as a rule 
 feebly maintained. 
 
 The most important work of this period, and one of 
 the least satisfying, is the " De Finibus Bonorum et Ma- 
 o r,. ,^ ^ lorum." In the five books are included three 
 
 De Fmlbus, pub- 
 lished 45 B.C. conversations, in different years, lands, and 
 
 circumstances. The general subject is the 
 
 highest or ideal Good. This is discussed from the Epicu-
 
 92 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 rean, Stoic, Peripatetic, and Academic points of view. There 
 is much repetition. Tlie Greek sources are not given, of 
 course, and we get the impression that much is mere hasty 
 translation from hand-books compiled by late and lesser 
 members of the famous Attic schools. While Cicero dis- 
 likes, and probably states inadequately, the Epicurean doc- 
 trines, he feels, with his age, that the other schools differ 
 rather in names and definitions than in essentials. 
 
 Much better finislied in form, and more popular in every 
 
 sense, are the "Tusculan Disputations." In each of the 
 
 five books a thesis is stated and defended by 
 
 a nameless young friend, then triumphantly 
 
 refuted by Cicero himself. These theses are : 
 
 (1.) Death is an evil. 
 
 (2.) Pain is the greatest of evils. 
 
 (3.) Misery befalls the wise man. 
 
 (4.) The wise man cannot be secure from agony of mind. 
 
 (5.) Character does not suffice to happiness. 
 
 The copious illustrations, and the extremely frequent 
 poetic citations, are drawn quite impartially from Greece 
 and Rome. The original share of Cicero seems larger than 
 usual. It is in fact almost a continuous lecture in his own 
 proper voice. This work has always been widely accepted 
 as one of the most helpful productions of " pagan " ethics. 
 It is certainly Cicero's own best contribution to the art of 
 living happily. 
 
 The '* l)e Deorum Natura" discusses the beliefs of the 
 various schools as to the character and activity of the 
 divine beings. From the eloquent silence of 
 the letters on such matters, we surmise that 
 Cicero, and his friends generally, were really Agnostics. 
 More instructive in detail is the " De Divinatione," a sup- 
 plementary treatise in two books. Here Quintus Cicero 
 sets forth the Stoic doctrine of augury, through astrology.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS AND OTHER WORKS 93 
 
 visions or dreams, marvellous incidents, flight of birds, en- 
 trails of victims, etc., etc. In the second book Marcus 
 refutes the belief, and ridicules the whole 
 science. This is the more instructive, be- 
 cause Cicero prided himself on his life-membership in the 
 sacred state college of augurs. 
 
 The " De Officiis" is a practical treatise on ethics, in- 
 tended for the author's only son, young Marcus. Though 
 quite lacking in system or unity, it has had 
 '*'* ■ ' much popularity and influence for good, 
 
 through its sensible rules of behavior and patriotic illus- 
 trations. It is to be feared that all this was wasted on the 
 last scion of the house, who was famous under Augustus 
 only on account of his unrivalled capacity for wine. He was, 
 however, the titular consul to whom was brought, in 31 B.C., 
 the news tiiat Antony had perished : a dramatic revenge. 
 
 Merely naming the " Paradoxa Stoicorum," the "De 
 Fato," the fragmentary "Tima^us," which was but a trans- 
 lation from Plato, and the more important " Academica," 
 we may speak more warmly of two little essays still widely 
 read. 
 
 The " De Senectute," On Old Age, is an utterance of sin. 
 cere feeling on a topic of universal interest. The charac- 
 ter of Cato — here greatly softened — was one 
 in which every Konian felt fitting pride. 
 The fact remains, that most of the best thoughts are to be 
 found, quite as well uttered, in such familiar places as 
 the introduction to Plato's " Republic," The artistic, sen- 
 sitive Greek was more sharply repelled from the ugliness 
 and physical decay of old age than was the grave, dignified 
 Roman. In Cicero we are reminded even, at times, of 
 Browning's challenge : 
 
 " Grow old along with me : 
 The best is yet to be, 
 The last of life, for which the first was made. "
 
 94 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 But Plato makes even his jDrosperous gray -beard concede : 
 puto. Republic, '^ A good man cannot be altogether cheerful 
 Booki.,33oA. under old age and poverty combined." 
 
 The praise of agriculture comes less naturally from 
 Cicero's pen. Here we may suppose the real Cato to be ex- 
 erting his influence. Cicero apologizes for making him 
 quote so freely from Creek authors, particularly Xenophon. 
 
 The " De Amicitia," like the companion essay, is dedi- 
 cated to Atticus, who was certainly one of the most faith- 
 ful of friends. That Cicero's essay is as 
 
 44 B.C. ^ 
 
 satisfactory as Bacon's, or Emerson's, few 
 will contend. Most readers feel a certain coldness in its 
 tone, a rather frank though unconscious confession of self- 
 ishness. Yet many touches appeal to universal sympathy. 
 
 Long as this list is, we would gladly recall at least one 
 lost work, the " Consolatio," by which a broken-hearted 
 father strove to lighten his own grief after Tullia's death 
 in 45 B.C. Even here he avowedly follows a Greek essay on 
 Grief, by Grantor. The bitter pessimism of this book is 
 condemned by the Christian Lactantius. Cicero began 
 with the assertion, reminding us of Plato's " Phaidros," 
 that this life itself is a punishment for sin elsewhere. 
 
 In leaving this general subject of the philosophic works, 
 Cicero's own words to Atticus may fairly be 
 quoted : "■ These are transcripts. They are 
 made with comparatively little toil. I supply only words, 
 of which I have an abundance." In Latinizing and popu- 
 larizing the main results of Greek thought he attained 
 his aim. For a really large and contemplative view of 
 „„ .... a . ancient philosophy we may look, rather, as 
 
 Windelband apud ^ ^ / •' 
 
 nuiier. vol. v., a recent authority suggests, to a calmer 
 p. 336. spirit, poised upon a remoter and securer out- 
 
 look for retrospect : to Augustine. We should not fail to 
 add, that the saintly bishop himself was first attracted to
 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS AND OTHER WORKS 95 
 
 serious studies by the praise of "divine philosophy" in 
 the ''Hortensius,"a woric now lost, a general introduction 
 to Cicero's philosophic books, generously dedicated to his 
 defeated rival in oratory. 
 
 The excursions of Cicero into some still remoter fields 
 excited mirth even in his own day. A geography, de- 
 manded by Atticus, he found very laborious, the material 
 Ad Att., II., 6. resisting flowery treatment, as he complains. 
 Pritcian, vi., i6, Yet the one sentence preserved by a gram- 
 83. marian's citation (to show that quercus may 
 
 be of the second declension) is a gem : "There the boughs 
 of oaks rest on the ground, so that pigs like goats may feed 
 on acorns from the brandies." All else is forgot. So true 
 is Horace's word, " Books have a doom of their own ! " 
 
 Of the impartiality, and objective view, required of the 
 historian, few men have less. Moreover, Cicero entered 
 this field expressly to record his own exploits. He began 
 with a Memoir on his consulship, sent, of all men, to Pom- 
 pey, then in the full tide of Eastern conquest. That cold 
 and jealous spirit, naturally, could not stomach it. 
 
 So far as their imaginative power is concerned, his poems 
 also can have been of little value. Here again his tireless 
 self-consciousness misled him into composing at least three 
 books on his consulate. The surviving speech of Urania, 
 De Divinatione, i^ scventy-cight hexameters, describing the 
 I.. II, lyff. omens that foreshadowed the Catilinarian 
 plot, will suffice to allay all regret for this lost work. It 
 is quoted by Quintus, against Marcus, to uphold the art of 
 divination. A somewhat happier subject was his towns- 
 man Marius. This poem, probably an early one, is also 
 cited in a similar manner by Quintus in the same dialogue, 
 and the thirteen lines describe a vigorous contest between 
 a serpent (Sulla ) and an eagle (Marius). Again, the incur- 
 sion of Caesar into Britain inspired a laudatory poem.
 
 96 THE CICEKONIAN AGE 
 
 It is a curious illustration of our poverty, that these 
 casual experiments by a skilful rhetorician are of real im- 
 portance in the study of Roman versification : for Cicero 
 supplies the only considerable body of hexameters be- 
 tween Enuius's " Annales" and the days of Lucretius and 
 Catullus. Cicero in his early verse still ignores the final s, 
 like Ennius, but has made a great advance over him in 
 ease of expression and rhythm. This is best seen in the 
 sustained translation from Aratos's astronomical poem, the 
 " Phainomena," in four hundred and eighty hexameters. 
 Despite its prominence in literature, this metre in Latin 
 always remained alien, artificial, and somewhat difficult. 
 
 The influence of Cicero on Latin prose can hardly be 
 overestimated. Editors, from his own faithful freedman 
 TuUius Tiro onward, annotators, beginning with the ex- 
 cellent historical comment on the orations by Asconius in 
 the next generation, have multiplied in every age. His 
 works were never wholly lost, though many were rescued 
 from oblivion and republished by Petrarch and Poggio. To 
 this day, everyone who attempts to write classical Latin 
 must simply peruse and imitate this supreme arbiter of 
 style. 
 
 We must remember, however, that this kind of Latin was 
 always somewhat artificial, and diverged widely from col- 
 loquial speech, as may be seen clearly by comparing the 
 sonorous periods of any oration with the familiar key of a 
 letter to Atticus. The popular speech has outlasted by 
 many centuries the literary dialect. Indeed, the chat of 
 street and market to-day in Trastevere may often be not so 
 very remote from the speech of Plautus, or Petronins. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The reader ignorant of Latin could have no better cicerone than Dr. 
 Andrew P. Peabody, who included in his scries of annotated versions 
 the " Tusculan Disputations," the " De Senectute," "De Amicitia," and
 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS A^Sl) OTHER WORKS 97 
 
 the " De Officiis. " The " Dream of Scipio" was translated by Professor 
 T. R. Lounsbury for his " Chaucer." Specialists will be familiar with 
 such works as Mayor's voluminous annotations on the " De Natura 
 Deorum," and the labors of J. S. Reid on the " De Finibus," including 
 an accurate translation. The tribute of Augustine, mentioned in the 
 text, in so striking, and so inaccessible to many, that it may be tran- 
 scribed here : 
 
 " Ego postquam in schola rhetoris librum ilium Ciceronis, qui ' Hor- 
 tensius ' vocatur, accepi, tanto amore philosophise succensus sum, ut 
 statim ad earn me transferre meditarer." (De Beata Vita, § 4.) 
 
 " lUe vero liber mutavit afifectum meum et ad te ipsum, domine, 
 mutavit preces meas et vota ac desideria mea fecit alia. " (Confessions 
 iii., 4, 7.) 
 
 The poems may be found either in Bahrens's " Fragmenta " or in 
 Vol. XI. of the Baiter and Kayser Cicero.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 C^SAR 
 
 The life and character of the great Julius, perhaps the 
 largest and most influential career in all history, can be 
 touched upon here only to lead up to one question : the origin 
 and purpose of the " Commentaries." They are not hasty 
 field-notes of a campaigner. We have before us a simple 
 Brutus, 75, 262. mastcrpiece of style, as Cicero warmly testifies. 
 face 'to' B.'a^ ^^ ^^^ Created with the swiftness, grace, and 
 viii- apparent ease of genius, in the year 51 B.C. 
 
 If intended to appease Caesar's personal enemies and avert 
 civil war, it failed of its immediate purpose : but as an 
 appeal to after-time, as an Apologia pro Vita, it reaches a 
 fresh jury in each age : not the reluctant children for whom 
 its quaint doom makes it a parsing-book and first reader, 
 but rather the Niebuhrs, Mommsens, and Von Rankes of 
 every civilized race. On the whole the verdict upon the 
 book, as upon the life, is one of hearty admiration and per- 
 sonal regard. 
 
 Caesar found himself amid forces which he could at best 
 only guide, not escape. Above all, between the little sena- 
 Caesar an Oppor- torial oligarchy and the blind led city mob, 
 tunist. there was no longer a true middle class, only 
 
 the wealthy yet greedy equites, mostly engaged in farming 
 the provincial revenues, after the present Turkish fashion, 
 for their own immediate enrichment. The nephew of 
 Marius, the son-in-law of Cinna, saved with difficulty from 
 Sulla's keen and deadly eye, Cfesar was called from the 
 first to be the leader of the mob. lie wisely planned to be 
 
 98
 
 JILTUS C.ESATl. 
 Anti(iui' liiist in the riipitoliiic Mii«onni.
 
 C^SAR 99 
 
 its master, too. Much of his youthful dissipation, even if 
 all the scandalous gossip of a Suetonius be given a hearing, 
 may have been a screen against partisan or personal hatred. 
 Certainly he was a profound student of history and litera- 
 ture, even a fastidious scholar, a consummate orator. 
 Above all, human character was to him an open book. 
 
 Free from all superstition or religion, save a faith in his 
 own destiny, he at thirty-seven sought and won the life- 
 Cffisar Pontifex P^^^ ^^ Supreme pontiff, made an exhaustive 
 
 naximus, 63 study of ceremonial, wrote a careful treatise 
 on ''Divination.'' Cicero himself, blind 
 to the ruin he is even then preparing for his own career 
 by hasty illegal executions, already realizes that Caesar has 
 followed that path in politics which is accounted popular, 
 In Cat iv V ^^y> is "truly popular." The people love 
 pious conformity. They also love the circus. 
 Cffisar /Ediie, The shows of Cassar's aedileship had broken 
 ^ ' ' all records, and plunged the future high- 
 
 priest millions deep in insolvency. One year as propraetor 
 Csesar in Spain. ^^ Spain cleared off all debts. It cannot be 
 
 61-60 B.C. claimed that Csesar was careful of the prop- 
 erty, or the life, of provincials. 
 
 The purely private and nowise illegal understanding 
 60 B.C. with Pompeius and Crassus made Cffisar at 
 
 " First Trium- least " second in Rome.'' The blunderins: 
 
 ^ ™ *■ selfishness and growing indolence of the 
 
 lucky victor over effete Orientals must soon leave him 
 first. 
 
 But now came the seven years of superhuman exertion, 
 of voluntary exile, of constant personal peril, of unrivalled 
 Campaigns in servicc to Rome. Slaying a million warriors 
 
 Qaui, 58-52 of the Kelts, he utterly broke their spirit, 
 
 and removed forever that nearest terror. 
 
 Gaul indeed remained the best "pacified" of the provinces. 
 
 Even the resistless Teutonic deluge he rolled back, perhaps
 
 100 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 delayed for four centuries. No Koman army or general 
 ever performed a larger, more arduous, or more useful 
 task. 
 
 In return he is invited home to face degradation, im- 
 peachment, probably an ignominious death. The army, a 
 . ^ „ . resistless weapon, is in his hand. Yet he 
 
 At the Rubicon. . -^ 
 
 waits patiently. While calmly setting forth his 
 own unrivalled services, he still utters cordial approval of 
 Pompey's belated measures to keep order in the caj)ital. 
 De Beiio Qaiiiico, Why may we not believe Caesar at least as 
 
 vii., 6. sincere a patriot as Cicero ? He may well 
 
 have clung to the slow-dying republican forms, may have 
 dreaded to see the greatest of orators cringing and flatter- 
 ing at a dictator's footstool, may have foreseen, even, the 
 hatred and the daggers of a Casca and a Cassius, if not of 
 the beloved Brutus or the ungrateful Ligarius. At least, 
 he did long draw back from the gulf of war : refused to be 
 Marius's successor in civic massacre : prided himself always 
 Cicero, In Cat., that no fcllow-citizen's blood shed in peace 
 
 '^•' ^- stained his hands. To Eomans Caesar was 
 
 indeed always " mitissimus atque lenissimus" most gentle 
 and most mild. 
 
 The greatest, most instructive, most lucid, and calmest, 
 of political pamphlets, the ''' Commentaries," are beyond 
 doubt, also essentially true. As to the main facts, indeed, 
 scores of public bulletins, thousands of eye-witnesses, com- 
 pelled exactness. If the repeated assertions of Gallic treach- 
 ery and aggression, of Caesar's own reluctance to advance 
 and clemency in victory, seem needlessly at variance with 
 the appalling results in Gaul, Switzerland, Belgium, even in 
 England and on the Rhine, we must re- 
 
 sarxxii-.and member that eager young advocates were 
 
 CatoiL.Beii. ulways Waiting to win fame and ofl&ce by 
 
 impeachments, as Cicero had assailed 
 
 Verres, as Caesar himself in youth had vainly attacked 
 
 the less guilty Dolabella and Antouius. Cato had actuullv
 
 C^SAR 101 
 
 proposed that Caesar be delivered over to a German tribe 
 which he had mercilessly crushed. 
 
 Every student of strategy, like Miles Standish, every 
 thoughtful reader of history, every lover of austere, lucid 
 style, must turn these pages with delight, in maturity, 
 unless they were spoiled for him by misuse in childhood. 
 If our boys must read Caesar, let tliem at least begin with 
 the manners of the Germans, Britons, and Gauls, the cu- 
 rious beasts of the forest, or the picturesque first landing 
 under the cliifs of Dover. 
 
 One would suppose the style alone of the Ariovistus- 
 speeches would have warned off all humane educators. 
 Such a mass of oratio oiJiqua exists nowhere else, in clas- 
 sical literature. Through all its mazes, even to the sen- 
 Beii. Qaii., I., tence where Latin syntax breaks down ex- 
 36- hausted and its single reflexive squints four 
 
 ways in as many lines, Caesar's clear, remorseless logic leads 
 us unerringly on. But as for the children who must follow 
 such a piper — . 
 
 Csesar's artistic purpose in this phase of his style seems 
 plain. The arguments pro and con, in the cases both of 
 the Helvetian migration and the Germans' raid, must be 
 set forth. The use of interpolated speeches, with their 
 elaborately fictitious rhetoric, he profoundly disapproved. 
 So Herodotos, the master of all story-tellers, rightly re- 
 Herod., viu., fused to stop his swift dramatic action, as 
 *3. day dawned over Salamis, for Themistocles's 
 
 set speech to his men. Instead, both authors give " the 
 substance of what was actually said," in a 
 form which, throughout every clause, re- 
 calls us to the unity of the narrative in the chronicler's 
 e.g., B. a., iv., mastery. That a very brief direct utterance 
 "^' could be used to heighten the effect of action 
 
 Caesar knew, and has shown no less skilfully. 
 
 The need of this protest against the rhetorical treatment 
 of history is only too plain. "With Caesar's protege Sallust
 
 102 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 we liave an immediate relapse. Livy with all his charm 
 sins no less grievously. Finally, the chief critics of the 
 Silver Age, even Quintilian, actually nplift Sallust to su- 
 preme honor beside Thucydides. Yet the " Gallic ^\ar" 
 is to modern taste the undoubted masterpiece of Latin 
 historical composition. 
 
 The " Civil War " is far less perfect. Even Caesar's mind 
 is- distracted by the Atlantean tasks of his last years. The 
 embers of civil strife were too hot to be trodden fearlessly. 
 There is evidence of suppression, of special pleading, of 
 haste, even of nervous excitement. This volume is indeed, 
 at times, what Cajsar too modestly called the " De Bello 
 Gallico : " raw material, a quarry for later historians. Yet 
 40-48 B c *^^^ work also is precious, and we regret that 
 
 the three books cover only two years. Doubt- 
 less this, like more important tasks, was rudely interrupted 
 by Caesar's death. 
 
 The miraculous fact is, that this man of unrivalled en- 
 ergy in action, with equal genius for destructive warfare 
 and for constructive statesmanship, was also second, and a 
 worthy second, in the age of Ciceronian prose. The loss 
 of his orations is to be deplored. Several we might per- 
 haps restore, from his histories. His political pamphlet 
 against Cato dead — Cato who had "cheated him out of the 
 opportunity to pardon him" — must have been a curious- 
 ly human document. Once while crossing the Alps he 
 found time to write, and dedicate to Cicero, an excellent 
 essay on "analogy," form in language, style. His favorite 
 maxim was to use no queer, archaic, or unfamiliar word. 
 His briefest billets are among the gems of the Ciceronian 
 correspondence. 
 
 The one extant specimen of his excursions into literary 
 
 criticism, and into verse, gives us a lively hun- 
 
 upra, p. so. ^^^ ^^^ more. It is the judgment on Terence, 
 
 already mentioned, preserved in the poet's biography :
 
 C^SAR 103 
 
 " You moreover, although you be but the half of Menander, 
 Lover of diction pure, with the first have a place, and with 
 
 reason. 
 Would that vigor as well to your graceful style had been 
 
 added. 
 So your comic force would in equal glory have rivalled 
 Even the Greeks themselves, though now you ignobly are 
 
 vanquished. 
 Truly I sorrow and grieve that you lack this only, O 
 
 Terence." 
 
 The Eighth book of the " Gallic War " was added by 
 Cffisar's loyal officer and friend Hirtius. It covers both 51 
 and 50 B.C. In supplements to the " Civil War" again, the 
 Alexandrian African and Spanish campaigns are treated 
 by various unpractised hands, apparently veterans of these 
 wars. The value of these essays is wholly in their contents. 
 The form is awkward, in part even illiterate, not to say 
 barbarous. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Plutarch is a far more edifying biographer than Suetonius. The 
 hearty words of Cicero on the " Commentaries " (" Brutus," 75, 262), 
 are remarkable, because his own style is so remote from Caesar's. 
 The two men evidently admired, even loved, each other. 
 
 Cffisar's best eulogist is Mommsen. See especially his Roman 
 History, Book V., chapter XI. Fowler's Julius Caesar is the best 
 English biography. Napoleon III.'s work is valuable for its illustra- 
 tive plans, maps, etc. School editions of the " Gallic War " are num- 
 berless. Moberly has edited the " Civil War " in handy form. 
 
 Translations of Ctesar need no bush. Capital is the rapid 
 spirited summary, with citations, by Anthony TroUope, in a volume 
 of a most useful, unpretentious series, the "Ancient Classics for 
 English Readers."
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SALLUST AND NEPOS 
 GAIUS SA.LLUSTIUS CKISPUS. 
 
 Sallust's career, as we hear of it, seems to illustrate 
 the worst tendencies of his century. The long quarrel 
 with Milo is said to have been begun in a 
 sound beating received from him as a right- 
 eously enraged husband. As tribune in 52 B.G^^allust 
 aided vigorously in overawing IMilo's defend- 
 
 Vlde8upra.p.78. * in- +1 i • * a 
 
 ers, among whom Cicero was the chief, and 
 driving him into exile. His expulsion from tlia senate 
 by the censors, in 50 B.C., may have been a political move, 
 but the reason given was " notorious immorality." By 
 devotion to Coesar he won restoration to his senatorial rank, 
 some military distinction, and a proconsulai'^jposition in 
 Africa, where in one year he accumulated immense wealth, 
 llis subsequent trial for extortion took place before the 
 dictator, who may well have winked at a too faithful copy 
 of his own methods in Spain. Sallust's splendid gardens 
 on the Quirinal remained for centuries a favorite residence 
 of the emperors. 
 
 Sallust outlived his leader, and, apparently in the luxu- 
 rious idleness of his last years, became ambitious to win 
 fame as a writer. He chose for his first attempt the 
 Catilinarian conspiracy : an excelleiit subject jor a m ono- 
 graph. But his essay, of twelve thousand words, is not a 
 good piece of historical work. He assumes, from the first 
 words, an austere philosophic attitude, a contemptuous 
 
 104
 
 SALLUST AND NEPOS 105 
 
 superiority to vulgar mortals. But the phrases are turgid 
 and hollow, the thoughts commonplace and unlinked, the 
 Cat. III. ad anxiety as to his own damaged reputation 
 *'"• comes presently to the surface. His sketch 
 
 of old Rome is vague and ideal, meant for rhetorical con- 
 trast. The color grows somewhat more definite as he 
 describes the evil effects of Sulla's Asiatic 
 
 ■' ' conquests : but the scandals of Catiline's 
 
 youth, the general growth of corruption and insolvency, 
 etc., are described from general knowledge or hearsay, and 
 we get little evidence of real investigation. 
 
 Considering his political and personal quarrel with 
 Cicero, the general fairness of the main account is credit- 
 able. The speeches give an air of realism to the story, un- 
 til we perceive that they are all inventive products of the 
 same rhetorical taste as the general narrative. This is, in- 
 deed, a capital offence of ancient historians generally 
 against our own code of truthfulness, and is 
 • "P • • '• frankly avowed by Thucydides, whom Sallust 
 consciously_ emulates jj ut never ap2)roaches. Thus Caesar's 
 speech in the senate, to save the conspirators' lives, would 
 be highly interesting if authentic : but the very opening 
 words are a mere echo of the resounding first sentence in 
 the essay itself. The best touch is the picture of the law- 
 lessj violent city mob, 7eady to join Catiline in success, 
 prompt to turn against him in failure. The contrast be- 
 tween Caesar and Cato, which follows their speeches, is 
 clever, and appears to show clearly that Caesar is now 
 dead. Indeed, if living, that exquisite master of true 
 simplicity would perhaps have pruned away much of Sal- 
 lust's rhetoric. The composition might well have ap- 
 peared in 44—43, which would account for the respectful 
 treatment of Cicero. 
 
 The close of the essay is in quiet good taste. In general 
 the whole is worthy of careful, critical perusal, by a mature
 
 106 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 student. For school-room use it has fatal faults already 
 indicated, and one other : an np.f»fl.si<; )pfl,1 pnai -afinftSR \n 
 words and thouglit, too common in Eoman utterance. 
 Especially do we feel this when women are mentioned. 
 So much, at least, the age of chivalry has still left us in 
 the West, — a preference for clean words. 
 
 , , The second essay, on the Jugurt hine Wa r, is twice as 
 
 ^ ) long. The pretentious philosopTnzing of Chapters I.-IV. 
 may be skipped. Sallust's residence in Africa had given 
 him opportunities, which he appears to have used with 
 some care, to gather local data. We are told much which 
 we hear from no other source, and are disposed to accept 
 as probably true. The narrative is interesting, and gener- 
 ally well told. The ethical purpose claimed, to lay bare 
 the insidious and dangerous corruption of the old Roman 
 morality, is, naturally, much the same as before. Chro- 
 nology,' and exactness generally, appear to be sacrificed at 
 times to dramatic and rhetorical effect. 
 
 From Sallust's third and largest undertaking, a history 
 ^i of the years 78-G7 B.C., there remain only speeches and 
 ' letters, with scanty other fragments. These indicate a 
 decided progress in rhetorical ingenuity. 
 
 Judged by his extant books, Sallust is by no means to 
 be ranked among the world's great historians. In method 
 of investigation, in impartial presentment, in taste and in 
 force, the single youthful work of Francis Parkman on the 
 "Conspiracy of Pontiac/' for instance, is incomparably 
 superior to Sallust's essays. Yet in the glamour of his 
 subjects, in abundance of accessible data, in limitless means 
 and leisure, the Roman had every advantage. I"".^? riHtM, 
 
 ^y As to Sallust's style, tastes will differ. His curter J 
 
 *^' sentences, his sudden changes of construction, his archaic 
 words, appear to many students far-sought, ineffective, 
 tawdry. Yet it is all a remarkable performance for such 
 a man, beginning so late one of the most arduous of tasks.
 
 SALLUST AND NEPOS 107 
 
 CORNELIUS NEPOS. 
 
 Of tliis respectable minor member in tlie Ciceronian 
 circle little is known. His long life ran nearly parallel 
 with Atticus's. He was born north of the Po, like Catul- 
 lus, Virgil, and many other leading authors, and had very 
 possibly 'Keltic blood in his veins. His letters to and 
 from Cicero are missing from the general correspondence, 
 AdAtt xvi s B ^^^'^S^^ ^^^® latter once remarks " Nepotis 
 Macrob ii i i ^P^^iolani cxspecto," but Macrobius quotes 
 from the second book of a special collection. 
 He was an intimate friend of Atticus, apparently like him 
 a publisher. ""His life appears to have been a peaceful one : 
 at least, again like Atticus, he avoided any dangerous 
 prominence in the fierce politics of the first century be- 
 fore Christ. 
 
 Nepos was a voluminous, superficial, careless, rather 
 graceful and readable scribbler on historical subjects. 
 Catullus, in the dedication of his verses, alludes roguishly 
 to his friend's three ponderous volumes on universal 
 history. He prepared also an encyclopaedia of biography, 
 in sixteen or more sections, filled up alternately with 
 Roman and foreign worthies. 
 
 As his unquestioned work are extant lives of Cato the 
 Censor and of Atticus. The latter is an elaborated eulo- 
 gistic biography of from four to five thousand words. 
 The former, already cited, comprises barely four hundred, 
 but refers at the close to a monograph on 
 Cato "separately," made at Atticus's re- 
 quest. The extant sketch, then, was in the collection. 
 
 In another MS., and accredited to an ^milius Probns 
 as author, are preserved twenty-three brief biographies of 
 foreign commanders. Probus is otherwise known only from 
 an epigram, of six faulty lines, in which he offers his Car- 
 mina, poems, to the Emperor Tlieodosius. But the easy
 
 108 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 pure Latinity of these sketches dates from no such serai- 
 barbarous source or time. The coincidence of idiom and 
 style with the two unquestioned essays con- 
 378-395 A.b. vinces nearly all scholars that these twenty- 
 three sketches are also a remnant of Nepos's cyclopaedia 
 of biography. 
 
 In truth the whole question is of trifling importance. 
 Our extreme poverty in ancient Latin books suited for 
 childish readers has given this third-rate hackwork a stand- 
 ing in schools : that is all. In substance, and in the real 
 interest of a genial, live personality, Gellius, for instance, 
 is greatly his superior : in fact, far better Latin essays 
 could be safely manufactured in either Cambridge to-day. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 As to Sallust, the text traverses the favorable judgments of some 
 modern critics, and of the '' Silver Age " in Rome. Martial says 
 Sallust will remain "Primus Romana in historia": Tacitus calls 
 him " auctor florentissimus." Quintilian's yet more surprising enthu- 
 siasm has been already mentioned. 
 
 The style of Sallust cannot be indicated in translation. A conven- 
 ient though not critical American edition of the two monographs, by 
 Stuart, includes a vocabulary. Latin students who escaped Sallust in 
 their school-days will find him instructive and not uninteresting to their 
 maturity. 
 
 For Nepos there are school editions in abundance. The Atticus 
 biography is, of course, an authentic and valuable document, on a 
 wholly different level from all the other lives. For the table of con- 
 tents to Cato's " Origines," also, we chance to be indebted to Nepos.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 MARCUS TERENTIUS VARRO 
 
 The long life of Varro makes him almost a link between 
 the good old times of the Scipios and the Augustan age. His 
 supreme rank as an antiquarian and general 
 ii6-a7B.c. scholar, with the survival of two volumes 
 
 from his pen, demand for him a share of space. Even his 
 lost verses must be mentioned with hearty regret. Yet 
 nothing can more clearly illustrate the prosaic character of 
 Ciceronian literature, or indeed the derivative and scholas- 
 tic nature of Eoman letters generally, than the relative 
 prominence of such a career. 
 
 Varro's verses, written in early youth, raise once more a 
 vexed and perhaps insoluble question, for they are called 
 " Saturae Menippeae." That the Grecian, or rather Syrian, 
 Menippos was a Cynic philosopher of the third century be- 
 fore Christ is agreed. In his attacks on the Epicureans and 
 others he dropped into occasional verse, chiefly for the pur- 
 poses of parody and ridicule. They are not supposed to have 
 been dramatic. Lucian is in some sense his disciple. Among 
 the Varronian fragments most are metrical, others appear to 
 cf. Quintiiian, be plain prose. The sarcastic tang is often 
 
 *•' ■' 95- strong. 
 
 We have nearly six hundred fragments, mostly mere 
 grammarians' citations for a rare word or phrase. E.g., 
 " I don't see a thing, Varro ; this longshanks (longurio) 
 in front of me, whoever he is, shuts off the light so ! " 
 They are too brief to show any dramatic quality, but are at 
 least often in the form of dialogue. The poet's own name 
 appears in titles, as Marcus's Slave, Double Marcus, etc., 
 
 109
 
 110 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 or he is directly addressed. Though the thonglit is almost 
 always homely, the form is at times really poetical. Thus : 
 
 "Not gold, not treasures, win the heart's release : 
 The cares and burdens of the luind, nor mountains 
 Of Persian wealth, nor Crassus' splendid halls "... 
 (Can banish) . . . 
 
 This clearly anticipates Horace's favorite strain. 
 
 But, bitterly regretted, this curious collection is hope- 
 lessly lost. The clearest glimpse is accorded by Gellius. 
 lie summarizes the satire entitled : " Thou 
 
 Qellius, xHI., II. , , - • ^ • „ 
 
 knowest not what late evening brings, which 
 he thinks the daintiest of all. The general subject seems to 
 be banqueting as a fine art. The first aphorism is the 
 graceful one that the diners should be not less in number 
 than the Graces, nor more than the Muses. Guests should 
 be chosen neither loquacious nor taciturn. The discussion 
 should not be mere shop-talk, yet while enjoyable it should 
 have a certain practical value : saith Roman Varro. Over 
 the dessert Gellius slides off into a discussion on the proper 
 Greek and older Latin words for sweetmeats. Quite pos- 
 sibly Varro had done so himself, philology and rhetoric 
 being never very remote from the scholarly Koman poet's 
 or banqueter's mind ! 
 
 These one hundred and fifty Menippean ''books" may 
 or may not include the four books of Satires, ten of poems, 
 six of pseudo-tragedies, also mentioned. 
 
 The first illustrated Roman work which is recorded was 
 Varro 's "Imagines," in fifteen books. It had apparently a 
 hundred plates, with seven portraits on each. The divi- 
 sion into professions, and the alternation of Roman and 
 foreign worthies, remind us of Nepos's cyclopaedia of biog- 
 raphy. Besides other text, each picture had an Elogium, 
 or metrical epigram, not always from Varro's own hand. 
 
 The lost encyclopaedic works of Varro cannot even be
 
 MARCUS TERENTIUS VARRO 111 
 
 catalogued here. The " Antiqnitates Rerum Humanarum 
 et Divinarum " ran to forty-one books, the nine " Disci- 
 plinarum Libri " treated grammar, dialectic, rhetoric, 
 geometry, arithmetic, astrology, music, medicine, archi- 
 tecture. The civil law, geography, history of drama and the 
 theatre, were included among Varro's specialties. Yet 
 this great rival of Aristotle's industry survives only in two 
 modest volumes. 
 
 ON THE LATIN LANGUAGE. 
 
 Of the twenty-five books on the Latin language there 
 remain only six, V.-X., in a rather tattered, interpolated, 
 and corrupt form. They inspire us with much respect for 
 Varro's zeal, energy, and patience, very little for the 
 methods and theories of ancient philology. He shows little 
 advance in sobriety on Plato's " Cratylos." In form, of 
 course, he in no way approaches any Platonic dialogue. The 
 book is simply a rather discursive dictionary of etymology, 
 which often Jiits the truth but rarely approaches the scien- 
 tific method. The citations of older authors, the real and 
 many-sided learning of the writer, give the work a value in 
 other than etymological fields. 
 
 An example may be taken at random. The meaning of 
 the word latro, robber, he thinks can be carried back 
 through freebooter, mercenary, guardsman, to king's at- 
 tendant. Varro derives it from latus, side, because the 
 latro was at the king's side, and wore the sword at his own : 
 i.e., "He who stands beside," and "the side-arm man." 
 That in Greek a mercenary's pay is called latron seems to 
 him to clinch the matter. The lighter wit of the interpo- 
 lator adds, that " anciently the royal courtiers were called 
 thieves but were not, while now the conditions are re- 
 versed." In such a frivolous frame of mind, indeed, this 
 work of Varro's as a whole is best enjoyed.
 
 112 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 ON AGRICULTURE. 
 
 " I would rather have elaborated at leisure, would now 
 fain write more fully, Fundania, that which I shall here 
 Rerum Rusti- ^^^ fortli summarily, realizing that haste is 
 carum Libri needful : for as the saying is, if man is a 
 HI., 37 B.C. bubble, so much the more is an old man. 
 For my eightieth year admonishes me to gather up my 
 baggage, ere I depart out of life." 
 
 The three books on Agriculture thus genially begun do 
 not, after all, show signs of nervous haste. Only the first 
 volume is dedicated to his wife Fundania, the second and 
 third to men otherwise little known. 
 
 Varro imitates his departed friend Cicero in using the 
 dialogue form, and also in setting a new scene for each 
 book. Of dramatic skill there is little indeed. The 
 machinery creaks and all but breaks down. The divisions 
 of the subject are pedantic and over-elaborate. The life- 
 long fondness for punning etymologies, and for " old buried 
 lore " generally, breaks out at every turn. Yet few can 
 fail to gain renewed love for the subject, love and admira- 
 tion for the sturdy, patriotic, learned writer, food for 
 thought and stuff for mirth, from this little-read classic. 
 
 We are heartily glad that Caesar smilingly " pardoned" 
 Varro for taking Pompey's side, and sent hira back to his 
 books, even put him in charge of the state libraries : doubly 
 glad that, even when the name of the old sage at seventy- 
 three was placed on Antonius's bloody proscription-list, he 
 was smuggled away and finally saved. With him we have 
 passed the portal into the age of Augustus, and must turn 
 back to the poets: for this century of violence included 
 the short career of two world-poets, the two clearest and 
 most original voices that ever uttered, in Koman speech, 
 a message to the after-time.
 
 MARCUS TEEENTIUS VARRO 113 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Though Varro must always be aside from popular interest, both his 
 books should be far more generally known to classical students. The 
 "De Agricultura" is united with Cato's in the edition of Keil. The 
 " De Lingua Latina " is learnedly treated by Spengel. The fragments 
 of the " Saturaj " are added by Biicheler to his edition of Petronius. 
 The few c/05'ia cited from the "Imagines" are collected by Bahrens, 
 Vol. VI., pp. 295-06. For the last two entries see also Merry's " Frag- 
 ments of Latin Poetry." For bold attempts to reconstruct some of the 
 " Saturae Menippeae " from the rather meagre remnants, the student 
 is referred to Ribbeck, " Romische Dichtung," Vol. I., pp. 242-65, 
 and also Mommsen, " Romische Geschichte," Book V., chapter XII.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 CATULLUS AND HIS FRIENDS 
 
 The poetic instinct, if it exist, in a whole folk, must 
 reveal itself in brief flights of song, in lyric. Such utter- 
 ance requires no theatre of stone or wood, no stated audi- 
 ence, no bookish culture, not even the ability to read or 
 write. The iynprovisatori of the Tuscan valleys are often 
 illiterates. Uhland was a learned antiquarian, but Johanna 
 Ambrosius is a toiling peasant. The older ballads of Scot- 
 land and the Border sang themselves out of a people's 
 heart. Nothing of this kind can be descried among the 
 Latins. Their love and hate seem wingless. Perhaps a 
 Sappho, or even an Archilochos, born there, would have 
 remained mute and inglorious under Cato's frown. 
 
 But the Social War broke down the barriers of Roman 
 citizenship, which was now extended through- 
 out Italy. It ended, also, the narrow pro- 
 vincialism of the Roman speech, so boldly confessed, 
 Pro Archia, X., indeed overstated, by Cicero a quarter-cen- 
 *3- tury later. Latin now everywhere swiftly 
 
 supplanted the Oscan and other spoken Italic languages. 
 Over the Keltic dialects it must have made a truly Roman 
 conquest. In general it rendered every free Italian a 
 Roman in spirit as in law. Thus Rome's most signal de- 
 feat brought her renewed vitality. This is especially nota- 
 ble in literature. 
 
 The plain of Lombardy, the great valley of the Po, was 
 technically a foreign province. Probably its people were 
 
 114
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FRIENDS 115 
 
 already a blend of Keltic with Latin stock. From this 
 region came a sur^Drising number of leading Roman an- 
 Supra, pp. 49, thors. Cascilius, and Nepos, we have men- 
 '°7- tioned already. The precise descent and 
 
 stock of a Catullus, a Virgil, a Livy, can never be known : 
 but it must be remembered that Home absorbed the ener- 
 gies not only of Italy but of the Mediterranean world. 
 While to the last the imperial mint-mark is stamped on 
 every Latin utterance, yet the gold of genius is drawn 
 from many veins. 
 
 The one poet whose clear, importunate ''lyric cry "is 
 still heard, out of that age, came from Verona. Yet Catul- 
 0. Valerius Ca- ^"'^ Certainly appeared, in his day, not alone, 
 tuiius, 84 (?)- but as one of a brilliant, audacious ffroup of 
 " young Eomans." Furthermore, this move- 
 ment was in large part a scholarly one. In oratory and 
 rhetoric it was a reversion to Attic simplicity, with Lysias 
 as a model, against the Asiatic floridness which Cicero, on 
 the whole, shared with his dethroned rival Hortensius. 
 In poetry the same men studied the finished forms, approved 
 the briefer compass, of Alexandrian art, ridiculing the 
 ponderous mass of Ennian or NaBvian epic, as Callimachos 
 had assailed Apollonios the Rhodian, the composer of epics. 
 
 In politics, of course, these young radicals attacked the 
 great men of the day, Pompey and Cssar, though Catullus 
 finally had to make his peace with the latter. That the 
 rather pompous and arrogant old age of Cicero was also 
 Cf infra 12 embittered by their ridicule is proven by 
 passages in his last books. In oratory at 
 least Brutus was one of this new school. 
 
 Catullus was probably far above his foi'gotten brethren 
 in genius. In his brief roll of twenty-three hundred verses 
 there is quite sufficient evidence of Alexandrian influences. 
 But it is the elemental cry of his own savage, sensitive youth 
 that is deathless.
 
 116 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 " I hate and love: — no more I know, 
 Save that I'm racked with mortal woe." 
 
 His hatred, it niiiy be said at once, is usually expressed 
 in words so foul as to be utterly unfit for repetition. It 
 is astonishing that so true a poet could cast such vile 
 thoughts in verse-forms. We are disposed to judge by 
 them the age quite as much as the man. 
 
 Catullus squandered several of his few years on one law- 
 less and consuming passion. The famous " Lesbia" seems 
 to have been, beyond serious doubt, Clodia, the beautiful 
 and shameless sister of Cicero's enemy, Clodius. If so, Cic- 
 ero may have first brought the lovers together, by refusing 
 Gaul as his own proconsular province, and 
 handing it on, instead, to Lentulus, Clodia's 
 husband, who in Cicero's consular year was praetor, that is, 
 next in official rank. Hence Catullus's wealthy parents 
 Suetonius, Cae- doubtless entertained Lentulus and his wife, 
 sar, 73. j^g they certainly did in later years the great 
 
 Julius, on his winter circuits through the province. In 
 her affections the poet was apparently af ter- 
 . supra, p. 77. ^yg^j.jj supplanted by that Cselius Eufus whom 
 Cicero later defended. 
 
 In 57-56 Catullus served in Bithynia on the staff of Mem- 
 mius, whose greed sent the youth home with empty pock- 
 ets, as he went. Some lyrics in cheerful 
 
 Carm., 10. .,..,. 
 
 tones were certainly written after his return, 
 but he cannot have lived much longer. The early death 
 of the poet is foreshadowed in his despairing verses, and is 
 referred to in Ovid's elegy on Tibullus, who will meet 
 in Elysium kindred spirits of like fate. Among them 
 
 " Thou, oh learned Catullus, thy young brows ivy-encircled. 
 Bringing thy Calvus with thee, wilt to receive him 
 appear. ' ' 
 This " learning," like the "wit" of Queen Anne's day, 
 
 consists mainly in careful mastery of classic forms and
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FRIENDS 117 
 
 myths. Ciitullus certainly has, in his lyrics, no such re- 
 condite mythic lore as Callimachos, or Horace. He had 
 studied, and even translated, the famous Sapphic stanza, 
 with its sudden pulse-leap midway in the verse : 
 
 " Blest to me he seems as a god immortal 
 He who face to face as he sits may hear thee 
 Sweetly murmur, listens in eager longing 
 Unto thy laughter. " 
 
 But the next quatrain of Catullus's poem names Lesbia, 
 and is of course his own composition. In Catullus, as in 
 all true singers, the metre chosen seems the only possible 
 form for the thought. Both his grand passions, love and 
 hate, were most forcefully uttered in a livelier form of 
 'Miendecasyllables," not grouped in stanzas, and with the 
 skip at the second foot instead of the third. Of this 
 rhythm every modern echo, even Tennyson's, though 
 
 "All composed in a metre of Catullus," 
 
 is notoriously faint and far indeed. Sir Theodore Martin, 
 prince of verse-translators, gives it up in comic despair, 
 after a few ventures like 
 
 " Whom shall I give this pretty little book to, 
 New and fresh from the polish of the gritstone ? " 
 
 Yet lovers of Latin agree, that into this jaunty, monoto- 
 nous line Catullus somehow puts music, variety, tender- 
 ness, biting force, the full natural utterance of his two 
 chief moods, in which Heine is his nearest kinsman. 
 Friendship is with him but a phase of passionate love. We, 
 however, crave some more familiar English lilt, as the 
 ungallant poet rails at a mischievous hussy : 
 
 " Give back the book, thou shameless dame, • 
 The book, thou dame devoid of shame ! "
 
 118 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 or with half-hidden pride and roguish banter offers his 
 sheaf of brief lyrics, his "dainty little book and new," to 
 Nepos, himself a bard of passion, though he 
 
 " Into three tomes had dared to cast 
 The story of all ages past : 
 — Learned, oh Jupiter ! and vast ! " 
 
 In hendecasyllables are the happy poems on Lesbia's count- 
 less kisses, the odes to her pet sparrow living and dead, 
 and indeed most of the unforgettable lyrics. Catullus 
 and his friends would have little patience with our well- 
 beloved virtue of reticence. Rather they cry : 
 
 ' ' Whate'er thy flame may be, 
 Or good or evil, tell it me. 
 Thy flame and thee to heaven on high 
 In dainty verse I'll glorify." 
 
 As Ovid has told us, Catullus's real heart's-brother is 
 not Nepos, but Licinins Calvus. After a day spent with 
 him in scribbling and comparing erotic verses, he writes : 
 
 Carm., 50. 
 
 *' Lieinius, from your wit and grace 
 So feverisli homeward did I pace, 
 No food consoled me thus distrest, 
 Nor slumber closed my eyes to rest. 
 I tost and turned the livelong night. 
 Eager to see the dawning light, 
 Only once more with you to be. 
 And, speaking, hear you answer me." 
 
 A calmer comradeship, and the merry poverty of extrava- 
 gant youth, is revealed in a curious note of invitation, 
 which Martial honors with close mimicry. Perhaps Fabul- 
 lus had strained a slight acquaintance and begged the 
 dinner. 
 
 "The days that pass shall be but few, 
 Fabullus, ere with me you dine, 
 
 Carm., 13.
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FKIENDS 119 
 
 And richly. Only bring with you 
 Abundant viands, salt, and wine, 
 
 Some charming girl, of jests no end. 
 You might go farther and fare worse : 
 
 But, for Catullus, your ' dear friend,' 
 'Tis only cobwebs fill his purse." 
 
 The poems thus far mentioned are all in the eleven- 
 syllable verse. For a more pensive key Catullus uses a 
 less swift iambic or Alexandrine line, not unlike our blank 
 verse in its effect. The best-known example is the poem 
 on Sirniio, the lovely peninsula at the southern end of the 
 Laffo di Garda. The later Roman structures whose ruins 
 are now seen there may have displaced the summer abode 
 of the poet's family. There are few tenderer words of 
 home-coming. 
 
 " Sirmio, pearl of all the capes and isles 
 Carm., 31. ,, . „ . -, , , 
 
 Or in pellucid lakes or savage sea. 
 
 What is more blest, than when, from toil released. 
 
 The spirit drops her burdens, and outworn 
 
 With alien labor to our own hearthstone 
 
 We come, and slumber on the longed-for couch ! " 
 
 Similar in rhythm and tone is the dedication to Castor 
 
 and Pollux, the patron saints of mariners, of the yacht 
 
 in which he had safely returned from Bithyn- 
 
 Carm.. 4- ^^^ ^^^^ wliich had been laboriously brought 
 
 up the Po and Mincio to dear, billowy Benacus, 
 
 It need not be supposed, then, that Lesbia's lover died 
 of a broken heart, or cut short his years by a desperate 
 struggle to drown grief in dissipation. lu any case, he 
 faced death as fearlessly as he did life. In immortality he 
 has no shred of belief. It is amid Lesbia's warmest kisses 
 that he utters what are perhaps his most famous lines : 
 
 •* Each sun that sets at dawn returns. 
 For us, when our brief candle burns, 
 One endless night of slumber waits."
 
 120 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 The first sixty poems of the extant collection are all very 
 brief, chiefly in hendecasylhibles, or other liglit, swift 
 measures. The little roll dedicated, in the opening poem 
 already cited, to IS' epos included not more than these, per- 
 haps less. There seems to be no principle of arrangement 
 whatever. 
 
 Numbers 65-116 make up a separate collection, being all 
 in elegiac couplets. They were not, however, written later 
 than the iambics and hendecasyDables. Poems even from 
 the early and happier Lesbia-period are found in this group 
 also. Tlie rhythm is somewhat labored, the utterance is 
 less spontaneous. Yet often it fits the thought, as in the 
 attempt to console the bereft Licinius. 
 
 ' ' If there is au^ht, my Cal vus, that out of our 
 Cariii..96. . ^ ' \ 
 
 sorrowing onerea 
 
 Unto the voiceless dead grateful or welcome may be, 
 When with the hunger of grief we recall our former affection, 
 
 When for the ties we lament, broken, that once were our own, 
 Though Quintilia grieve at her own untimely departure, 
 
 Over thy faithful love greater, be sure, is her joy." 
 
 Yet the hope which he suggests for his friend he himself 
 put firmly aside, not merely in Lesbia's arms but at his 
 brother's lonely grave in the Troad. Hailing in vain the 
 silent ashes, he bestows the poor gifts that usage demands : 
 
 " Receive them, wet with loving tears, I pray ; 
 '' ' — And so farewell forever and for aye." 
 
 The poems numbered 61-64 are relatively long, and re- 
 quire separate mention. 61, in forty-seven swift stanzas 
 of five lines each, is the chief classical example of the 
 Ejnthalaniium or Marriage-song. The tone is light, and 
 some portions are too free in expression, even for such an 
 occasion. Yet it is a gem unrivalled in its kind. He who 
 could so glorify the nuptials of his friends, Manlius Tor-
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FRIENDS 121 
 
 quatus and Julia, could not have utterly missed the path 
 to earthly happiness for himself. Certainly, as an artist, 
 this truly Roman master-singer proves his right to every 
 Hellenic suggestion which he chooses to make his own. The 
 movement, the merriment, the joyonsness can be shared 
 by every sympathetic reader. Especially tender and truth- 
 ful is the expression of hope, 
 
 " Soon my eyes shall see, mayhap, 
 Carm., 6i, vss. Young Torquatus on the lap 
 
 316-230. o -I r 
 
 Translation Of his mother, as he stands 
 
 of Sir Theo- Stretching out his tiny hands, 
 
 dore nartln. ^^^ j^.^ ^.^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^j^jj^ 
 
 Half open on his father smile. " 
 
 Next is a far more formal hymn in sixty-seven liquid 
 hexameters. It is in form a choral dialogue, between a 
 band of youths and one of virgins, each 
 arm., 2. gtanza closing in a line with quadruple 
 
 invocation of Hymen. The maidens bewail the cruel 
 doom that snatches the bride from her mother's arms. The 
 youths, naturally, have the first and last word, urging the 
 happiness, the naturalness, the necessity of wedlock. 
 
 The next poem, entitled Atys, is by some critics called 
 the finest in the language. In its special class, of minia- 
 ture epic or sustained narrative lyric, no 
 other has such dsemonic force. If it had no 
 Greek original, then Catullus in Asia, and especially amid 
 the lovely glens, peaks, and pine-forests of Ida, had re- 
 ceived a direct Hellenic inspiration, whose results may be 
 compared with the choral splendors of the "nippolytos,''or 
 the loveliest harmonies of the Initiates in the Aristophanic 
 '' Frogs." Yet the subject is not merely painful but ab- 
 normal, and anything but universal in its interest. The 
 youthful acolyte of Cybele, who mutilates himself irrevoc- 
 ably in his frenzied enthusiasm, and then in a moment of
 
 123 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 sanity impiously laments the home, comrades, gymnasium, 
 race-course, all the joyous social life to which he can never 
 return, is far indeed from our life. We can only vaguely 
 liope that the returning frenzy was life-lasting, and echo 
 the closing prayer 
 
 "Goddess imperious, Cybele goddess, mistress 
 Vb8. pi-ga. - «■ T^• 3 
 
 holy of Dindymos, 
 
 Far be from my abode, thy madness, mighty queen, afar 
 
 from us." 
 
 Those who have known familiarly and learned to love, and 
 dread, the forest-clad heights that yet frown upon the 
 Trojan plain, can never wholly escape the spell of this 
 marvellous poem, in whose very movement the mystic awe 
 still lingers. Memories of youthful Wander-years will al- 
 ways respond to such strains as 
 
 ..." And must I ever on the snow-clad 
 Vss. 70-71. ■ t T^ • 
 
 regions of green Ida pine, 
 
 And linger on 'neath Phrygia's frowning peaks while weary life 
 
 is mine?" 
 
 Longest of all the poems is the " Wedding of Peleus and 
 Thetis,'* in four hundred and seven hexameters. This is 
 also masterly, at least in detail. The digres- 
 sion describing the embroidered coverlet of 
 the bridal couch takes up more than half the poem : vss. 
 50-2G6. However, the adventures of Ariadne, there de- 
 picted, are quite as interesting as the main theme. 
 
 A curious oversight has been noted. Peleus first beheld 
 Thetis when she and her sister-Nereids rose to gaze at the 
 Argo, the first ship tliat ever troubled the ^gean waters. 
 For navigation to develop, for Cretan Minos to become 
 lord of the sea and conquer Athens, finally for him and his 
 daughter Ariadne to pass into legend and become subjects 
 of a work of art, would require a courtship of several
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FRIENDS 133 
 
 centuries : immaterial to divine Thetis, but serious indeed 
 for her mortal lover. 
 
 The solution is, however, absurdly simple, if we may 
 suppose that the gods can foresee the future. So ^neas's 
 shield, an imitation of Achilles's, contained scenes from 
 later Roman history. This explanation of Catullus' poem 
 is the more plausible, because the real culmination of the 
 little epic or idyll is the prophetic song of the Fates, set 
 to the whir of their own spindles, foretelling the whole 
 life of the hero Achilles, who is to spring from the wed- 
 ding that day celebrated. 
 
 There are echoes of many Greek lyres in this poem, most 
 of all, perhaps, reminiscences from the art of Apollonios 
 the Rhodian. Yet it is not believed to be a translation. 
 Indeed, the cumbrous structure, " sphere in sphere," is 
 hardly equalled, even in the awkward Hesiodic *' Shield 
 of Heracles," and betrays the lyric singer, essaying a task 
 too huge for his simpler art. 
 
 In several of these larger poems Catullus has justified 
 Ovid's adjective doctus (learned), by recondite allusions and 
 conceits little to our taste, but in this especially we realize 
 that the exquisite parts are better than the effect of the 
 whole, while even they are far inferior in force to the keen 
 shafts of scorn, or the briefer winged missives of love, sped 
 by this true Italian poet. He more than all others, as 
 Professor Sellar has said, showed what youth can accom- 
 plish, and what it cannot. In the unashamed audacity of 
 youth Catullus stands forth forever, fiercest of haters as 
 of lovers. 
 
 The recognized leader of this youthful school was not 
 Catullus, but a namesake, Valerius Cato, who also came 
 from the North. He was both grammarian and poet: not 
 an incongruous union in Rome. Whether he was the real 
 author of the poem ''Dirae," transmitted as Virgil's, is still 
 debatable. Like that author he celebrated his beloved
 
 83-47 B.C. 
 
 124 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 under the name of Lydia, and had lost his estates in the 
 reign of terror under Sulla. The latter event is promi- 
 Cf. Virgil, Jient in the poem, and may have caused the 
 
 Bucolics, i. assignment of it to Virgil. 
 
 Calvus, a short-lived lyric poet like his friend, has been 
 
 mentioned repeatedly. He was especially brilliant as 
 
 an orator. Praise of his eloquence, and a 
 
 gibe on his diminutive stature, are combined 
 
 Catullus, ill ^ merry five-line poem of Catullus's. His 
 
 carin.,53. father, Licinius Macer, a careful historian, 
 
 had been impeached by Cicero for extortion in 66, and 
 
 escaped only by suicide. This must have sharpened the 
 
 antagonism between the pair of poet-friends and the great 
 
 orator. The little greeting to Cicero from 
 
 arm., 49. Catullus secms full of gratitude, extravagant 
 
 praise, and humility : but the last is surely overdone. 
 Moreover, by a sort of refrain these verses are linked with 
 two of Catullus's most audacious lampoons. The circum- 
 stances of the day may have made this missive anything 
 but agreeable, desj^ite the assurance 
 
 "Most eloquent, Marcus TuIIius, 
 Art thou of the sons of Romulus." 
 
 To another versifier, Cornificius, our poet in utter 
 heart-break complains of his silence, and begs : 
 
 " Give me a word of greeting, what you please, 
 Sadder than tear-drops of Simonides." 
 
 A far happier epistle goes from Catullus in Verona to 
 
 Caecilius in Novo Como, as an invitation for a visit. There 
 
 are teasing references to a girl, herself ''more 
 
 arm., 35. leurned than the Sapphic muse," whose 
 
 clinging arms may detain the expected guest. 
 
 Not all these fading names, to which several more could 
 be added, were ever important, but at least a numerous
 
 CATULLUS, AND HIS FKIEXDS 125 
 
 friendly band of quick-witted versifiers, chiefly Transpu- 
 danes, can be pleasantly descried. Helvius Cinna, like 
 Calvus, was of more purely Roman and noble stock. He 
 Carm., lo; 35; scrved with Catullus in Bithynia. His chief 
 95. poem, " Zmyrna," was an elaborate idyll on 
 
 an obscure mythical subject. Finally, as a slave and 
 freedman in the Cinna family we hear of Parthenios, a 
 Greek, a late member of the Alexandrian school. His per- 
 sonal relations with Eoman poets can be traced as far 
 down as Virgil and Gallus. Through him Catullus may 
 have received the doctriua of which we are glad he had no 
 more. "Berenice's Hair," in particular, is Catullus's 
 labored translation of a lost poem by Calli- 
 " ' machos, full of courtly adulation and ill- 
 
 placed ingenuity. 
 
 But from all this group one clear voice reaches us. This 
 surely is no accident, but indeed a survival of the fittest. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 There are metrical translations of all or nearly all Catullus's poems 
 by Sir Theodore Martin, James Cranstoun and Robinson Ellis. The 
 latter indeed, in " three learned tomes " has given a variorum Latin 
 text, an exhaustive comment, and a translation " in the metres of 
 the original." The latter is not always easy either to scan or to 
 construe. Both the otliers omit, or soften beyond recognition, 
 the more savage lampoons. The few versions by Professor Jebb and 
 Goldwin Smith leave a lively desire for more. See also the paper con- 
 tributed by the present author, in Macmillmi's 3Iagazine for January, 
 1897. 
 
 Vexed questions as to Catullus's life are avoided in the text. The 
 especial stamping-ground of polemic is Carmen 68, a complicated 
 elegiac construction full of subjective allusions. Jerome sets Catul- 
 lus's birth and death 87-57 b.c, but there are undoubted references to 
 events as late as 55, e.g.^ Caesar's invasion of Germany and Britain 
 (Carm., xi., 11-12). 
 
 There is an excellent American edition of Catullus by Merrill.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 LUCRETIUS 
 
 Catullus's life is revealed to us in his intensely per- 
 sonal lyric. Indeed, his loves and hates, his longing in 
 absence or his exultant home-coming, his fleeting earthly 
 bliss and despair of more lasting happiness, alone interest 
 vitally the hearer, or the singer. 
 
 The other surviving poet of that stormy age is person- 
 ally all but unknown. He wishes to share with us only 
 the elemental hopes and fears of rational humanity. He 
 is in touch with Catullus at one point. Lucretius, also, 
 believes that man has no eternal life, no spiritual essence, 
 no need to concern himself with aught beyond his own 
 passing day. But while to Catullus that is the bitter truth, 
 to be drowned in the wine of Lesbians kisses, for Lucretius 
 it is a central, nay, the central doctrine out of which 
 happiness, or contentment, may be won. This austere 
 consolation is to wipe tlie tears from all eyes. It is a very 
 gentle admonition on the folly of grief, when he says, first 
 quoting the common cry : 
 
 Book III, vss. "'The joyous home shall welcome thee no 
 894 W. more. 
 
 Thy noble wife and well-lov'd children ne'er, 
 Running to be the first thy kiss to snatch, 
 Shall with a silent joy thy bosom fill : 
 For one disastrous day has wrested all 
 The many precious things of life from thee.* 
 
 Yet this they add not : ' Nor shalt thou again 
 By any craving for them be assailed.' 
 
 126
 
 LUCRETIUS 127 
 
 Could they but see this rightly, and conform 
 Thereto their words, then would they free themselves 
 From that great anguish and distress of mind." 
 
 Even his picture of the universe is drawn purely to 
 convince men of their own material and finite nature, to 
 remove from our thoughts all trace of foolish hope, and 
 yet more of corroding dread, as to any other worlds, or 
 superhuman beings. Many, if not most men, find a lofty 
 consolation, compounded far more of hope than of fear, in 
 the belief that the wrongs of the present life are elsewhere 
 to be set right. Lucretius, however, certainly felt that 
 the terror of future judgment and punishment is the chief 
 bugaboo and curse of existence. He was convinced, also, 
 that he could efface such superstition absolutely from any 
 clear, courageous, and attentive mind. Thanks, above all 
 else, to Epicures, 
 
 Book I., v«8. ** Religion now is trampled under foot 
 
 78 ft. In turn. His victory lifts us to the skies. 
 
 This do I fear, lest you perchance suppose 
 Impious the grounds of reason which we tread, 
 Sinful the path. Nay, all too oft that same 
 Religion bore unholy wicked deeds " : 
 
 and the slaying of Iphigenia is thrillingly portrayed, 
 
 " A stainless maid, who at her bridal hour 
 Fell, a sad victim, by her father's stroke. . . . 
 Such crimes religion could suggest to men. " 
 
 The atomic theory of Democritos, the ethics of Epi- 
 curos, the impossibility of life beyond death, the practical 
 non-existence of deity, are set forth with power, earnest- 
 ness, logical consistency, and what then passed for scientific 
 learning, in these seven thousand hexameters. The attempt 
 is made to explain consistently all physical phenomena, 
 including the origin, development, and eventual destruc-
 
 128 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 tion, of life, and even of the world itself. The philosophic 
 breadth of scope, the benevolent purpose, at least, are evi- 
 dent. The imaginative beauty of literary art we might be 
 less confident to find. But in truth this austere rhythmic 
 essay, On the Nature (or Origin) of Things, is the chief 
 creative feat of Roman imagination. The minor charms 
 of the poem, its digressions, episodes, illustrations, would 
 alone suffice to raise Lucretius to Virgil's side. A simple 
 list becomes beautiful, even pathetic. Thus to exemplify 
 the microscopic smallness of the atoms, he says : 
 
 Book I., V8B. " So after many circlings of the sun 
 
 3"« «• A ring beneath the finger wears away 
 
 In use, the drip of water from the eaves 
 Hollows a stone, the ploughshare's iron curve 
 Invisibly decreases in the fields, 
 We see the pavement worn away beneath 
 The people's feet, . . . 
 
 But yet the particles 
 Which at each instant still therefrom depart 
 Envious Nature will not let us view." 
 
 In particular, the latter half of the Fifth Book is the most 
 vivid and fascinating ideal picture ever drawn of man's 
 origin and progress from the cave to culture. At times 
 we hear Darwin's very tones : 
 
 Book V. vss. " And many genera of animals 
 
 855-59. Must then have perished utterly and passed, 
 
 Since all we see, that breathe life-giving air, 
 By craft, by valor, or, again, by speed, 
 Saved and protected from the first their race." 
 
 Still other passages there are, notably the opening forty 
 lines, in which the pious, patriotic Eoman seems, at least, 
 to forget altogether liis disconsolate atheistic materialism. 
 Here Venus and her lover Mars, the divine ancestors of 
 the yEneadse, are rapturously portrayed. The poet indeed
 
 LUCRETIUS 1:^0 
 
 mnst have had, as Tennyson makes him assert that he did, 
 some double purpose. Venns may be also a symbol of 
 cosmic love, attraction, even gravitation. She, and Mars 
 as strife, repulsion, the other source of all life and force, 
 may have as parabolic and mystic a meaning as the Platonic 
 Eros and Eris. To the conservative Koman, however, this 
 invocation would seem absolutely orthodox. A later pas- 
 sage gives us the key. 
 
 Book II., VS8. " If any choose, Neptune to call the sea, 
 652-57' To speak of grain as Ceres, or misuse 
 
 Bacchus, not give the liquor its true name, 
 So may we let him call the rounded earth 
 Mother of gods, if he in truth forbear 
 With foul religion still his mind to stain." 
 
 But not the details alone are poetic. Even the Lucre- 
 tian Cosmos itself, lonesome, dreary, and lifeless though it 
 be, appeals, perhaps for that very reason, with terrific 
 power to our minds. From the haunted memory we can 
 never wholly banish again that infinite snow-storm of silent 
 atoms, moving for countless ages through endless empti- 
 ness. 
 
 " Such is the nature of unbounded space 
 00 ^, vBs. That gleaming lightnings cannot traverse it, 
 
 Though gliding on through endless lapse of 
 
 time, 
 Nor even lessen by a jot the way 
 That still remains to go." 
 
 A homelier figure, that grows no less memorable, is the 
 javelin-thrower, taking his stand on any terminus we may 
 imagine, only to cast his spear out into further space again 
 and ever again. 
 
 In truth the study of Lucretius will eventually leave, in 
 the sensitive mind, a world-picture fairly comparable to 
 Dante's mediaeval conception, or to the great drama of the
 
 130 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 Iliad, where the Olympian council watches the struggle be- 
 fore Troy, while Thetis, Iris, and Hermes glide heaven- 
 ward or earthward, and Pluto leaps in terror from his throne 
 lest the earth be rent above his head. Less bright than 
 Homer's, less agonizing than Dante's, the Lucretian Cos- 
 mos has its own weird, lonely charm. Indeed, the beauty of 
 natural objects is set forth, in many passages, with such 
 truth, tenderness, enthusiasm, even reverence, that Pro- 
 fessor Shorey calls the poet a Pantheist after all, akin 
 in some moods to Wordsworth, rather than a true mate- 
 rialist. 
 
 The miracle of creation is reduced to a minimum : to the 
 unexplained ''swerve" or eddy that brings atoms into 
 mutual contact and so, through endless change and chance, 
 produces at last this world, and numberless others like it. 
 All that now exists has been, and shall be reproduced, 
 again and again in the ceaseless lapse of time. That matter 
 is indestructible is well taught and illustrated. 
 
 "Therefore no thing returns to nothingness, 
 Book I VS8. -g^^ j^jj^ dissolved, to atoms still revert. 
 
 So lastly die the rains, when father ether 
 Hath cast them on the lap of mother earth. 
 Yet goodly crops arise, the boughs turn green 
 Upon the trees, that heavy grow with fruit. 
 Hence too our race is fed, or herds of beasts, 
 Hence gladsome towns we see with children teem . . . 
 
 So naught that seems to perisli dies indeed. 
 Nature from other each replenishes. 
 Nor will permit that aught shall come to be 
 Unless by death provided otherwhere." 
 
 Many results of modern science are amazingly fore- 
 shadowed. Yet many guesses, again, are purely childish, 
 as when the sun and moon are made little more than float- 
 ing bubbles, pressed upward by the earth's superior weight, 
 and hardly larger than they appear to our eyes. The law
 
 LUCRETIUS 131 
 
 of perspective is emphatically denied, self-evident though 
 it seems. The most radical fault is the failure to appre- 
 ciate motion or force, as no less indestructible and vital 
 than matter. Hence sound, heat, even cold, are to Lucre- 
 tius but subtle, permeating substances. Vision is produced 
 by thin actual films, thrown off by all bodies as perfect 
 images of themselves, and actually reaching our eyes. 
 
 Thus far it is attempted in some degree to arm the 
 reader who would undertake the consecutive perusal of 
 Lucretius's pages. Yet such an attempt is hardly to be 
 safely made by the beginner, or by a student in any sense 
 immature. Thus the twenty-seven detailed arguments 
 against the soul's power to outlive the body, while by no 
 means all equally cogent nor even plausible, may throw a 
 lasting gloom over the mind. One passage of two hundred 
 and fifty lines should be omitted altogether, in decent regard 
 for modern reticence. 
 
 In general it must be constantly remembered, that, like 
 nearly all Komans, Lucretius set his didactic philosophic 
 aim high above all poetic adornment. As he repeatedly 
 says, he would but sweeten the edge of the cup, from which 
 men are to quaff the bitter yet salutary wormwood of truth. 
 
 Yet in this volume our chief concern is with Lucre- 
 tius as a poet. In creative force, in a sense of vastness 
 and sublimity, in noble, sonorous, somewhat monotonous 
 rhythm, he is more akin perhaps to Milton than to any 
 other master. Like the blind singer of "Paradise Lost," 
 also, he stands in scholarly and philosophic aloofness from 
 an age which he disdains. 
 
 *"Tis sweet, when tempests lash the tossing 
 
 Init. Version main, 
 
 of Goidwin Another's perils from the shore to see ; 
 ^°"*''' Not that we draw delight from other's pain, 
 
 But in their ills feel our security ; 
 
 'Tis sweet to view ranged on the battle plain
 
 132 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 The warring hosts, ourselves from danger free : 
 But sweeter still to stand upon the tower 
 Reared in serener air by wisdom's power ; 
 
 Thence to look down upon the wandering ways 
 Of men that blindly seeii to live aright, 
 
 See them waste sleepless nights and weary days, 
 Sweat in ambition's press, that to the lieight 
 
 Of power and glory they themselves may raise." 
 
 Some such scholarly repose as is here revealed was also 
 Epicuros's ideal of happiness, so grievously distorted by 
 his hostile critics. 
 
 There is a less famous but no less restful passage, which 
 illustrates, what is still held as an essential truth, that 
 atoms or molecules lead their unceasing dance, like motes 
 in the sunbeam, though the mass which they compose seems 
 itself at rest. Emerson's ''Each and All" may well have 
 gained some touches from this picture. 
 
 Book II., vss. "For often woolly flocks upon a hill 
 3«7-32. Seize on their welcome food where'er the grass 
 
 Gemmed with fresh dew invites and summons each ; 
 The lambs, well-sated, play and butt in sport ; 
 Yet all commingled, seen by us afar. 
 Seem one white spot upon a verdant slope. 
 
 Or when again the mighty legions fill 
 With movement all the regions of the plain, 
 Waging a mimicry of war, to heaven 
 The glitter rises, and the whole earth round 
 Gleams with the bronze, while tramping feet beneath 
 Make uproar, yea the shoutings of the host 
 Smiting the mountains echo to the stars ; 
 The horsemen wheeling dash across the fields, 
 Shaking them with the fury of the charge ; 
 — And yet upon the heights tiiere is a spot 
 Wlienee all doth seem one glimmer, motionless 
 That lies upon the plain." 
 
 Of course there is much in this unique volume that is
 
 H 
 
 
 -5- 
 
 o
 
 LUCRETIUS 133 
 
 not poetry. At times indeed, waging keen polemic against 
 some Greek heresy in physics, the philosopher complains 
 over the added difficulty self-imposed by the metrical form, 
 or over the lack of technical Latin nomenclature wherein 
 to state his case. Yet he is a true poet, and one who by 
 his noble art is raised high above the turmoil of daily life, 
 yet remains in loving sympathy with his kind. This 
 manly pride of the artist in his own superhuman craft, so 
 common in every Greek land, is here met on Latin soil 
 for the first time since Ennius. It lifts this materialist 
 and atheist, tliis scientific foe of all supernatural faith, into 
 a region of idealism where Plato himself would welcome 
 him. Whatever the final verdict on his chief doctrines, 
 there are many gems of his thought still to be shared and 
 prized by all lofty thinkers. 
 
 Yet surely there is something unnatural in his whole 
 attitude. The artist, seeing and revealing the order, the 
 unity, of Cosmos, striving to reconcile men to its laws, 
 seems the last who should deny the existence of the su- 
 preme Artifex, the Demiurge of the universe itself. The 
 loftier his thought, the more this lack is felt, as if the key- 
 stone of the heaven-scaling arch were wilfully broken 
 away. 
 
 Thus Lucretius comes very close to the esoteric belief, 
 that what men call past and future events are not really 
 remoter than the present moment : 
 
 " Time is not, of itself, but from events 
 Book 1. , vss. rpj-^g senses apprehend what has occurred, 
 
 Then what approaches, what is next to come. 
 No man is conscious, it must be confessed, 
 Of Time itself, abstracted from the movement, 
 Or placid rest, of things." 
 
 But in Plato, in Emerson, even in Tennyson, the ex- 
 planation follows at once, that all events lie together in the
 
 134 THE CICERONIAN" AGE 
 
 consciousness of an omnipresent, all-powerfnl deity. The 
 true mystic even holds that all phenomena really exist 
 only in the divine mind : Our world may be but His Dream. 
 The only passages — not to mention the figurative uses of 
 divine names already cited — where Lucretius concedes the 
 c »« existence of gods, read almost like a mere 
 
 3iipra p. 129. o ' 
 
 prudent concession to popular feeling. In a 
 few lines plainly borrowed from the Odyssey, and re-echoed 
 by Tennyson, both in his '* Lucretius "and in the " Passing 
 of Arthur," perhaps yet again in the " Lotus-Eaters," 
 
 "Appear the powers divine, their peaceful 
 
 Book III, V88. homes 
 
 18-24. 
 
 Unshaken by the winds, where clouds pour 
 
 down 
 No rain, nor snow congealed by biting frost 
 Falls white and harmful. Cloudless is the sky 
 Above them. In the radiant light they laugh. 
 Nature supplies all needs of theirs, and naught 
 At any time their peace of mind impairs." 
 
 But in truth there is no place, in the unresting atomic 
 dance, for this changeless, eventless, aimless race or realm. 
 „ . „ Li a far more consistent and earnest argu- 
 
 Book v., V88. o 
 
 146-94. ment the philosopher later denies that the 
 
 cf. II., 646-51. gods can have had any share in making the 
 
 world, or any present control over it. Again, in one of the 
 
 noblest passages, the origin of superstition 
 
 BookV.,vss. ^^^ traditional rites is sketched with fear- 
 1101-1241. 
 
 less hand. We should prefer to have, frankly 
 uttered, what seems to be the logical conclusion : Such be- 
 ings could never be known to man even if existent, and the 
 chances are infinitely against their existing at all. But 
 from this position Lucretius, like his master Epicuros, 
 shrinks : whether from fear of men's displeasure, or in the 
 lingering dread of possible divine power and wrath after 
 all, may be debated.
 
 LUCRETIUS 135 
 
 Yet this is not by any means a world without justice. 
 Lucretius would lay the whole responsibility, for his use 
 of life, on eacl) num. Having temperately enjoyed all the 
 pleasures of the banquet, the guest should cheerfully de- 
 part to his long repose. But the sensual sinner, the cruel 
 tyrant, and their kind, will have their due punishment of 
 mind and body in this life. This, again, is exactly the doc- 
 trine of Plato's " Gorgias,"' while even in Dante's ' ' Inferno " 
 the allegorical application to our present world is often 
 clear. 
 
 In general we should marvel, not at flaws or incongrui- 
 ties in Lucretius's scheme, but at his mighty constructive 
 genius ; not at his scientific errors, but at his many shrewd 
 discoveries and prophetic guesses ; finally, not that his 
 poetic genius flags at times, that the scientific demonstra- 
 tion wearies or the didactic tone grows strident, but that 
 so much of charm, such lasting interest, is upon the whole 
 diffused over the entire mass of ungrateful material. This 
 is the most modern of all classical essays in the scientific 
 field. It is the most instructive, in many of its parts the 
 noblest, of all Latin poems. As a whole the Georgics, 
 doubtless also the ^neid, must be pronounced more cheer- 
 ful, and even more entirely poetic. Yet there are many 
 patriotic national epics, only one apotheosis of materialism. 
 
 The single hexameter of Lucretius has a noble, resonant 
 harmony. The variation in pauses is not sufficient, and 
 the general effect is one of breathless haste. The poem is 
 marred by some repetitions, and by far more serious gaps. 
 In general it lacks the final finish, and has also suffered 
 severely in transmission. In the single manuscript from 
 which all existing copies were derived some entire pages 
 were already missing. 
 
 The poet is clearly an aristocrat, thoroughly cultivated 
 and accustomed to luxury, but quite aloof from political
 
 136 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 life. The story of his madness, caused by a love-philtre, 
 and of his suicide, has been made familiar by Tennyson's 
 poem. 
 
 The work is repeatedly dedicated to a certain Memmius. 
 This is supposed to be the general of whom Catullus speaks 
 Catullus, lo and rather bitterly as rapacious and ungenerous 
 
 *8. to his stall. By chance we have from Cicero 
 
 full proof that Memmius had no sentimental feeling as to 
 Epist. ad Fam., Epicuros, Lucretius's revered master. Mem- 
 
 *'"•■ '• mius had bought in Athens a plot of land 
 
 on which stood, in ruinous condition, Epicuros's house. 
 Though he had abandoned the idea of building on the site, 
 he had refused to make over the precious relic, on any 
 terms, to the Greek Patro, head of the still existing Epi- 
 curean sect. Furthermore, Cicero appears to know that 
 Memmius shares his own utter abhorrence for the doctrines 
 of the school. This adds a final touch of tragic loneliness 
 to Lucretius's personal fortunes. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The lifework of Professor H. A. J. Munro, building on the learned 
 foundations laid by Lachmann, has accomplished nearly all that can 
 ever be done for the direct elucidation of Lucretius. Munro's three 
 volumes, critical text, comment, and prose translation, are alike 
 masterpieces. The American edition by Professor Kelsey adds helpful 
 references to modern scientific works, but unfortunately contains a 
 comment only on Books I., III., and V. 
 
 The Lucretius in the Ancient Classics series is by W. 11. Mallock. 
 His copious citations, and also the renderings by Goldwin Smith in his 
 " Bay Leaves," are in the eight-line stanzas of Don Juan. In another 
 volume Mallock has served up bits of Lucretian thought in the form 
 of quatrains made familiar by Fitzgerald's Onuir. The blank-verse at- 
 tempts in the present chapter lean heavily on Munro's prose. 
 
 The excellent essay by Professor Shorey in the Warner "Library" 
 furnishes an analysis of each of Lucretius's six books, and further 
 references to English and foreign works. The exact relation of Lu- 
 cretius's guesses to modern scientific theory is at least broached, but 
 hardly exhausted, by Masson in his "Atomic Theory of Lucretius."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DECAY OF DRAMA 
 
 The brief and exotic life of tragedy and comedy, as 
 serious art-forms, in Rome, lias been repeatedly indicated 
 The popular forms of amusement in this age were, rather, 
 elaborate processions, contests of strange animals with men 
 or with each other, and, above all, the gladiatorial games. 
 Under such competition even the coarse Atellan burlesque 
 could no longer hold its own, and gave way to the yet more 
 debased and debasing Mhmis. 
 
 The combination of song, dancing, and conversation in 
 this latter performance suggests a comparison to a modern 
 extravaganza with ballet. That female parts were actually 
 taken by women only assures us of the utter degradation 
 to which the theatre had fallen. Costumes were at times 
 scanty indeed, or even dispensed with altogether. Of reti- 
 cence or propriety in subject or treatment there was not 
 even a pretence. From such debasement some attempts 
 were undoubtedly made to elevate even this brutally coarse 
 form of popular amusement : but the taste of the mob 
 itself could not be purified. The best-known theatrical 
 incident of Caesar's dictatorship brings together the two 
 most eminent authors of mimes ; a Syrian freedman and a 
 respected Roman knight ; and the victory in such an arena 
 fell, naturally enough, to the alien and ex-slave. 
 
 As to the mimes of Publilius Syrus,or the Syrian, we know 
 curiously little. Though still performed in Seneca's day, 
 even the titles have perished, except two. The only con- 
 siderable fragment, on Luxury, quoted by Petronius, 
 
 137
 
 138 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 oifers little save a list of imported fowls such as the 
 peacock, capon, stork, and a similar string of costly gems. 
 There remain, however, between six and seven hundred 
 single lines, accredited to Publilius, of a gnomic and aphor- 
 istic character. Of course such commonplaces are current 
 coin all the world over, and no man can claim property in 
 them. Yet considering its ignoble origin, this collection 
 is by no means to be despised. A few lines will fairly il- 
 lustrate the quality of all. 
 
 " Expect from others what you do to them. " 
 
 " Hatred, and Love, no third, a woman knows." 
 
 " Others admire our treasures, — and we theirs." 
 
 " He claims the more, to whom too much is granted." 
 
 " Hardly a god against good luck can fight." 
 
 " They hate us also who have done us wrong." 
 
 ♦' Endure, not rail at what cannot be changed." 
 
 " Tears of an heir are smiles behind a mask." 
 
 "Greed nor to others nor itself is kind. " 
 
 " Foolish he who for a second shipwreck blameth Neptune 
 
 Btill." 
 
 ' ' Treat your friend as if aware how easily he turns a foe. " 
 
 " Least is that mortal's need who least desires." 
 
 " No peril without peril is o'ercome. " 
 
 " O Life, in woe too long, for joy how brief 1 " 
 
 " Who bears the older wrong, invites the new." 
 
 Such are the sifted grains, some even of them blasted and 
 bitter enough to the taste. The chaff is vanished forever. 
 In many cases the dialogue seems to have been improvised, 
 at least in large part. 
 
 A much more definite glimpse is accorded of the Roman 
 knight, Decimus Laberius. Some forty titles of liis mimes re- 
 main. " The Hot Springs " is a good setting 
 105-43 B.C. ^Qj. ^ social satire. ''Lake Avernus" and 
 " Necromancy" might be travesties of more sacred themes. 
 ''Fisherman," " Poverty," "Saturnalia" have a homelier 
 sound. But from a verse or two no play can be restored.
 
 THE DECAY OF DRAMA 139 
 
 Though bold and happy in expression, most of these 
 scant surviving lines are vulgar or commonplace. Some 
 sparks of Naevius's daring temper, however, the dicta- 
 tor Julius may well have noted, when with 
 unusual refinement of cruelty he made the 
 request, which from him was a command, that the wealthy 
 riacrobius, ii„ ^nd proud-spirited graybeard should play a 
 7- part in his own mime. With the story is 
 
 preserved the Prologue in which the dramatist bade fare- 
 well to his social rank : 
 
 "Necessity, 'gainst whose opposing force 
 Many liave wished, few had tlie power, to strive, 
 Hath dragged me — wbitlier, with my failing force? 
 I whom no bribery of gold or place, 
 No fear, no violence, no authority 
 Could move from my decision in my youth, 
 Lo ! in old age am easily dislodged, 
 At the mere gracious wish of a great man. 
 Uttered in soft gently persuasive words. 
 Nothing to him could gods themselves deny : 
 Who, then, would suffer that I should refuse ? 
 I, whose twice thirty years were without stain. 
 Came forth a Roman knight from my abode, 
 Homeward return a mime ! Ah me ! My life 
 Is one day longer than I should have lived. " 
 
 The tale of Laberius's own fortunes need not be read as 
 darkest tragedy. He retained at least his sense of humor, 
 the power of caustic speech. In this very play the people 
 watched Caesar chafe helplessly at such lines, put into the 
 mouth of a whipped slave, as 
 
 " Up ! Romans, ere we lose our liberties," 
 and again, 
 
 "Many he fears perforce whom many fear." 
 Caesar gave his own vote for Laberius, and when, over- 
 come by the popular cry, he had assigned the dramatist's
 
 140 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 prize to Publilius, he hauded to the degraded knight a 
 generous purse : uud also the gold ring which restored his 
 social rank. It is said that when Laberius attempted to 
 resume his seat among his former class, in the orchestra, 
 Cicero, in particular, met him with a scornful " I would 
 make room for you if I were not so crowded." The latter 
 phrase cut also the many new senators, of ignoble origin, 
 admitted by the dictator. But the retort came promptly 
 back : " Curious, liyoit are crowded, always accustomed to 
 sit on two stools ! " 
 
 But it is really pathetic, to think that all the refinement 
 of Caesar's court, all the wealth and luxury of the world's 
 capital, had no drama save this. The disdain even of a 
 Cicero for the professional artist is a thoroughly national 
 and Roman scorn. Some such patrician contempt for pro- 
 fessional mastery can be seen at times even in Athens. 
 Phidias himself may have been stigmatized, it is said, as 
 a mechanic ; but one can hardly believe that Pericles had 
 any such Philistine narrowness. While Aristophanes 
 donned the mask that no other Athenian dared assume, 
 and played the part of Cleon to the demagogue's face, the 
 foremost gentlemen of Athens appeared in their own char- 
 acters as the choristers of the " Knights." So Pericles cer- 
 tainly jested as a social equal with his fellow-general 
 Sophocles, who had played his own Nausicaa in his youth, 
 and excused his retirement from the stage by his weak 
 voice. Jonson if not Shakspeare, Racine if not Moliere, were 
 the companions of the forgotten great men of their day. 
 When little Weimar was glorified by the great pair of poet- 
 friends, the young duke himself was an amateur member of 
 the actors' guild. Sir Henry Irving is an honored name 
 in any drawing-room. Doubtless the Romans of the dying 
 republic had such a theatre as they deserved, such art as 
 they could appreciate : and patronize.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 KETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 
 
 Whatevek be the true date for the creation of the 
 empire, the republic did uot outlive Cicero. In 44-43 is 
 heard for the last time real discussion in the senate, or any 
 serious pretence of elections by the people. Thereafter 
 both assemblies merely register the decisions of their 
 master. At most, it was a question, for a few years, 
 whether Lepidus or Antony should share in any degree 
 Octavian's control over Italy. His grip on all the effective 
 forces was never shaken. His reign of almost sixty years 
 outlasted even the memory of the old regime. 
 
 That regime had never been a real democracy like Peri- 
 clean Athens. The provincial world was fortunate, to 
 escape a rapacious oligarchy and receive instead a single 
 master. Even Italy could but welcome rest, after a hun- 
 dred years of internecine strife and chaos. 
 
 But literature, as the free utterance of a free people, 
 now became as impossible in Rome as it had been already 
 for centuries in Greece. No Catullus could again arise to 
 defy Caesar, or Coesar's favorites. No Cicero could hurl 
 Philippics at the oppressors of the nation, or ridicule the 
 worship of a mortal man. On the contrary, the first 
 authentic utterance of the loftiest Augustan poet takes up 
 at once the burden of most abased adulation. 
 
 Virgil's Bu- "O Meliboeus, a god unto us this leisure ac- 
 
 colics. I. corded. 
 
 Yea, for to me a god will he be forever. His altar 
 Often a tender lamb of our fold shall stain with his life-blood." 
 
 X41
 
 142 THE CICERONIAN AGE 
 
 For a half-century the eyes of mortal Augustus beheld 
 these altars of his own worshippers. Such ignoble fetters 
 the arts of imperial Rome wore to the end. That pathetic 
 final scene in the great orator's career in December of 43, 
 then, does not merely leave an indelible crimson stain on 
 young Octavian's ascending chariot-wheels, but marks un- 
 mistakably the close of an epoch. 
 
 With the sole exception of Lucretius's poem, repub- 
 lican Eome offers no great creative and imaginative 
 masterpiece. Catullus's piercing cry has no national char- 
 acter. Like Archilochos, Villon, Heine, or de Musset, he 
 simply finds in verse a needful relief for his own tortured 
 heart. Some strains appeal mightily, indeed, to wider 
 human feelings, but he would have cared little or nothing 
 for that. The epics of Na3vius and Ennius cannot fairly 
 be judged, but either would probably now seem a naive 
 record of early Eoman legend and patriotic pride, rather 
 than a treasure of art. Of the Romans' drama, again, 
 no one has now a right to speak positively, but at best they 
 themselves permitted it to languish, long before freedom 
 was utterly lost. 
 
 So we are largely dependent for material on history and 
 oratory, two fields which are but upon the border of artis- 
 tic literature. Caesar's Commentaries, for instance, have 
 a certain beauty and charm in their unadorned simplicity, 
 yet they were written, and are preserved, for instruction 
 rather than for enjoyment. Xenophon's narrative of the 
 retreat of the ten thousand has far more grace, though 
 less historical importance. 
 
 In truth the largest literary gift of republican Rome to 
 later men, unless it be Lucretius's bold voice of negation, 
 was the lucid, copious, rather ornate style of the orator 
 Cicero. As has already been emphasized, the peculiar 
 virtues, the chief legacy, of this sturdy people must be 
 sought ill other fields : as, architecture, law, political 
 organization.
 
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 BOOK III 
 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 (43 B.C.-14 A.D.)
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 REPUBLIC AND EMPIRE 
 
 It is a belief rooted deep in our racial consciousness, 
 that all the noble crafts prosper best in the air of freedom. 
 It seems no mere coincidence, that Athens, the most demo- 
 cratic of ancient states, where not even the ballot but the 
 lot filled almost all offices, where comedy dared assail any 
 and every citizen with merciless gibe and slanderous accu- 
 sation — was also the greatest art-centre the world has ever 
 seen. Florence, Nuremberg, Shakespeare's England, may 
 perhaps also make claim to have been at once centres of art 
 and bulwarks of human liberty. Certainly some forms of 
 expression, like oratory, can hardly flourish at all under 
 tyranny. 
 
 Yet there is another side to the tale. Many a race has 
 passed through freedom into license, and anarchy at last, 
 but left no songs or statues behind them. Again, the 
 free Swiss, dwelling secure so long in the very garden of 
 the high gods, have in all their centuries given the world 
 no poet. It was a courtier of a German princeling who 
 immortalized their chief legend in " Wilhelm Tell." A 
 loyal Dane carved the Lion of Lucerne. 
 
 Not all men, not all races, deserve to retain their free- 
 dom. Few indeed have been strong enough to maintain 
 themselves, and yet so wise as to resist the temptation to 
 seek foreign conquests. Such acquisitions can be held only 
 by force, and martial law becomes almost inevitably cen- 
 tralized in absolute power. As Rome's sway widened, her 
 aristocracy dwindled to an oligarchy. Masterful chiefs at 
 
 149
 
 150 THE AUGUSTAN" AGE 
 
 first, like tlie Scipios, refused continuous power. Even 
 Sulla abdicated, the blood-thirsty Marius and the clement 
 Julius were early cut off : yet every experience was making 
 clearer the need of an emperor. 
 
 Octavian, a mere youth, quite without official position, 
 raised legions chiefly by the magic of his dead uncle's 
 name. That Cicero's party meant, or lioped, to push 
 " the boy" aside as soon as Antony should be crushed, is 
 more than probable. But steering his course masterfully, 
 profiting even by the bloody proscriptions which he may 
 have deprecated, he quickly made himself the real lord of 
 Kome. The term ''Augustan age" may fairly be ex- 
 43 B.C.- tended over nearly sixty years, and forms a 
 
 14 A.D. singularly well-defined epoch in literary art. 
 
 While every author, indeed every Roman, is henceforth 
 an obsequious subject, and even a conformist, at least, to 
 the popular worship of the living emperor, yet we shall be 
 reminded often that the generation of Horace and Livy 
 had known, and long remembered, the freer if more tur- 
 bulent days of old. Augustus himself encouraged much 
 frankness and independence of speech ; nay, he even 
 shared the lingering national pride in a past so radically 
 different from his ])resent. 
 
 The world as a whole was now to enjoy such tranquillity 
 as it had never before known. Wealth and trade increased, 
 despite the exactions of tyrants and their tools. The 
 Latin and Greek languages were growing all but universal. 
 Both must have been heard, for instance, not merely in 
 Jerusalem, but in the village street of Bethlehem. Men 
 of genius from every race and land could hope for a career 
 in the metropolis. Dionysios, the greatest of ancient lit- 
 erary critics, Diodoros the historian, Strabo the geographer, 
 lived and wrote their Greek works in the Rome of the 
 early empire. Tlie saintliest of Roman emperors is en- 
 rolled as a Greek, not as a Latin author. Plutarch re-
 
 REPUBLIC AND EMPIRE 151 
 
 turned of free choice to his Boeotian hamlet, but was offered 
 court favor, and doubtless wealth also, by the emperor. 
 Josephus the Jew, who wrote in Eome the story of his own 
 campaigns against Titus, was but the greatest of many 
 such captives. Indeed, the wealthy Romans generally 
 owned, more or less absolutely, the philosophers who educa- 
 ted their children. Of culture, therefore, as of all coarser 
 luxuries, Rome was indeed the centre. 
 
 It is not strange, surely, if gifted authors, from wide- 
 sundered birthplaces, crowd the first century of imperial 
 Latin letters. They are Rome's, if at all, chiefly by right 
 of conquest. Poetry especially, as an elaborate self- 
 conscious art, flourishes. But it is hard indeed to find an 
 artist without a patron. Confessing the general truth, it 
 will be needless to point constantly to the collar. Nor will 
 it be denied, that true heroes and philosophers have ex- 
 isted in every station of life, from a Marcus Aurelius on 
 the imperial throne to that kindred spirit, Epictetos the 
 slave. Indeed, of these two it might be questioned which 
 was more truly free. 
 
 In some respects the conditions were most favorable to 
 letters. The custom of authors' readings, in a more or 
 less select circle, must often have been salutary, though it 
 might easily become an insufferable fad, as the satirists 
 assure us it did. Both this usage, and the creation of a 
 public library, are accredited to the cultivated and critical 
 Asinius Pollio, of whom there will be more to say. 
 
 Augustus undoubtedly held the firm conviction that his 
 long, unwearied career was beneficent to the Romans and to 
 the world. This is expressed, with truly imperial confi- 
 dence, in the only large utterance of his that has survived. 
 It is a record, in thirty-five chapters, of the offices and 
 dignities held by him, of the gifts in money, entertainiftents 
 and edifices lavished upon the people, and finally of his ex- 
 ploits in war and peace. This simple, dignified statement,
 
 152 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 not nil imwortliy of Julius himself, was intended to be set 
 up before Augustus's mausoleum. There remains, how- 
 ever, only a copy, upon the walls of a temple at Ancyra, 
 itself dedicated to " Augustus and the goddess Eome/' Dis- 
 tinctly regrettable is the loss of Augustus's historical me- 
 moirs, in thirteen books. 
 
 So wise an observer as Mommsen is inclined to believe 
 that the world has been happier nnder the best of the 
 early emperors than at any other epoch. Yet to most men 
 the selfishness, the wasteful luxury, the brutal vices of 
 imperial Rome, above all the terrible sufferings of the early 
 Christians there, make her glory hateful. Again, the rav- 
 ages of later barbarism have stripped away the gleaming 
 facades, the splendor of bronze and gold, and left at best 
 the rough, rude core of many a lofty structure : so that 
 Augustus's boast recoils in mockery upon his memory. 
 
 As Clough exclaims, 
 
 " ' Brickwork I found thee, and marble I left thee ! ' their 
 emperor vaunted ; 
 ' Marble I thought thee, and brickwork I find thee ! ' the 
 tourist may answer." 
 
 A more enduring gratitude, even a more lasting memo- 
 rial for himself, Augustus secured by gathering about 
 him the ablest poets of his day, relieving them from want, 
 and encouraging their highest activity. Most clearly does 
 this appear true of Virgil, the first and best-beloved of them 
 all, the only Roman rival of Lucretius. Passing mention 
 may be made of Augustus's own hexameters on " Sicilia," 
 — probably an account of his campaigii against Sextus 
 Pompey, — or the tragedy on Ajax, the fate of which has 
 been already mentioned. A single coarse specimen of his 
 Epigrams is cited by Martial. But not even an imperial 
 author can force posterity to preserve his commonplace 
 work.
 
 !^« : ! > 1/^ S ^ 1 . _ ^ 
 
 
 •h-. 
 
 
 
 "-A 
 
 H
 
 BEPUBLIC AND EMPIRE 153 
 
 M^CENAS 
 
 We must also mention the man whose name, yet more 
 than Augustus's, had become typical of the generous, tact- 
 ful patron. Though doubtless a trusted adviser at all 
 crises, Maecenas was hardly a great statesman or minister 
 in the modern sense. For that, indeed, Augustus's own 
 activity left scanty scope. Msecenas was especially success- 
 ful as a diplomatic and conciliatory envoy. The famous 
 Journey to Brundisium, shared and chronicled by Horace, 
 postponed for some years the inevitable break between Oc- 
 tavian and Antony. 
 
 In less strenuous times Maecenas lapsed into luxurious 
 dissipation, perhaps largely to avoid that jealousy on his 
 master's part which appears to have overtaken him after 
 all. We know just enough of Maecenas's literary ventures 
 to be assured that his style was inflated, labored, and pain- 
 ful, while his matter was anything but noble. At least, 
 his best-known sentiment is a peculiarly un-Roman one, a 
 prayer for the continuance of life on any terms, though 
 racked with every possible torture. 
 
 POLLIO 
 
 A much larger figure in literature, and perhaps the last 
 representative of republican frankness and fearlessness, 
 was Gains Asinius Pollio. He was indeed a survivor of 
 that audacious youthful group about Catullus, who calls 
 him a 
 
 "Boy well-skilled in witty device and jesting." 
 
 His refusal to join the campaign against Antony was tem- 
 pered by his audacious offer to be himself the victor's 
 prize : a scornful acceptance of the inevitable. Yet his 
 tongue at least was never enslaved. Some of his severe
 
 154 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 criticisms have puzzled all later students. Few indeed can 
 find in Livy's style that provincial Patavinitij of which 
 Pollio complained. His dislike for Salliistmay more easily 
 be shared. Cicero's florid graces were also satirized. Nor 
 did Pollio echo Cicero's warm praise of the great Julius's 
 Commentaries, which he thought full of credulity, lapses 
 of memory, and graver sins against truth. He even be- 
 lieved that Caesar, if he had survived to old age, would 
 have recast the work altogether. 
 
 Pollio's history of his own times in seventeen books, 
 beginning with the ''first triumvirate," is a document 
 whose loss is still to be deplored. The Gr£eco-Roman 
 tragedies of such a man can be spared, even though Virgil 
 himself, with friendship's partiality, tells of the 
 
 ''Poems of yours that alone are worthy of Sophocles' buskin." 
 
 But again we are recalled to the best-beloved of poets. 
 
 Messalla, more nearly than Pollio a rival of Maecenas as a 
 
 patron of letters, will be mentioned on a 
 
 Infra, p. 220. \ 
 
 later page. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 This chapter is chiefly a digression into historical fields. Pollio's 
 bold remarks on Ctesar's books are cited by Suetonius, Caesar, § 56. 
 His opinion of Cicero is preserved, and is the chief fragment of his 
 history. See Peter, Historicorum Romanorum Fragmenta, pp. 264- 
 65. Mommsen's special monograph on the Monumentum Ancyranum 
 is a masterpiece.
 
 fefl l>^1
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 VIRGIL 
 
 There is probably no literary qnestion that has been so 
 exhaustively discussed as the poetic merits and rank of 
 Virgil. No serious student will accept here the mere dic- 
 tum of another. The problem is one on which men may 
 well change their views decisively, with lapse of years and 
 fuller study of art and life. Comparetti, the great Italian 
 scholar, calls the ^neid "a poem which never, before or 
 since, has been equalled." This is essentially the faith of 
 the Romance peoples generally, to whom Virgil is stiil 
 "the poet." On the other hand, an even more famous 
 German scholar, Niebuhr, says : " The whole iEneid, from 
 beginning to end, is a misdirected thought." 
 
 Virgil was by nature a lyric poet. Even in the Georgics, 
 the episodes, the details, are more precious than the pleas- 
 ing general effect. The attempt to give unified epic treat- 
 ment to all Roman story, from ^Eneas to Augustus, was in 
 itself impossible, and a task under which this gentle yet 
 reluctant singer sank utterly overburdened. But they who 
 deny most confidently that the -^neid is the successful 
 masterpiece of national epic, have abundant admiration for 
 these marvellously sweet, ever-varied, hexameter verses, in 
 which is heard, for the first time, the full vibration of 
 pathetic human sympathy. Yet this very charm of Virgil, 
 the tears and thrill of sadness in every utterance, would 
 alone debar him from the largest seat. Pathos is, after all, 
 not the chief chord in the harp of Life. 
 
 Man is the highest object of human interest. Virgil 
 
 155
 
 156 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 has created no character who is fully alive and familiar to 
 all men. His ^^neas is unreal and uninteresting to the 
 end. The poet lacks that complete vision of life which 
 makes the Iliad, or the Commedia, quite as dramatic as 
 the Antigone or Alkestis. One person, nevertheless, Vir- 
 gil has taught us to know, and to love with intimate and 
 passionate tenderness ; the melancholy weary singer Pub- 
 lius Vergilius Maro himself. But we know only the artist, 
 the dreamer, the spirit, not a man in the world. 
 
 Earely indeed is found in Virgil's work such a satiric 
 thrust of mother-wit as Lucilius or Horace loves to deliver. 
 Perhaps only one such verse is famous : 
 
 " Verily ever a fickle, a changeable creature is woman." 
 
 And that loses half its force because it is put, most incon- 
 gruously, into a god's mouth, just when the cold-hearted 
 hero is ordered to desert his devoted and generous wife. 
 A far better typical line, conned by each generation in 
 eager youth, to echo in the memory through the autumnal 
 days, is : 
 
 " Sweet, perchance, some day will it seem e'en this to remem- 
 ber." 
 
 By many a haunting verse like this does the Roman poet 
 steal into the innermost recesses of the human heart. 
 
 Of course his constant fame creates a presumption, at 
 least, of supreme power. No ancient author was so widely 
 known. Even in Juvenal's day the -^neid had become a 
 well-thumbed text-book in Roman schools. It is asserted 
 that if all his own MSS. had been lost, his chief works 
 could have l)Ocn restored from citations by others. Sta- 
 tins is perfectly sincere, as he sends his own proud master- 
 piece forth : 
 " O my Thebaid, wrought for twice six years without ceasing, 
 
 Live, I pray : nor yet draw nigh to the holy TEneid. 
 
 Follow her, rather, afar, and always worship her footprints."
 
 VIRGIL 157 
 
 To Dante, rising high above his own mediaeval time. 
 Homer, Aischylos, Pindar, Sophocles, and other Hellenes 
 were still all but invisible. Yet, in any case, he might 
 have chosen the court poet of the first and greatest Koman 
 emperor to be his guide in all merely human wisdom or 
 art. He may have been influenced, more than he knew, 
 by his own political creed, which saw no escape from utter 
 anarchy save in the revival of " Caesar's" supremacy. 
 
 More impressive, to us, perhaps, than this tribute of 
 Dante to Virgil, is Tennyson's greeting : 
 
 "Light among the vanished ages, star that gildest yet this 
 phantom shore. " 
 
 That ray of serene consolation should not be shut out 
 from any appreciative soul. On the purely artistic side, 
 again, it is worth the toil of learning the Latin speech, to 
 verify another word of noble courtesy from the English 
 Laureate, when he hails Virgil as : 
 
 " Wielder of the stateliest measure ever moulded by the lips 
 of man. " 
 
 In this among other ways Virgil is un-epic, that we con- 
 stantly need the story of his own life to understand aright 
 his work. It may be possible to trace the two together. 
 
 Publius Vergilius Maro was born of very humble parent- 
 age in Andes, a small village in the environs of Mantua. 
 His father was a potter, or, as others say, a courier's hired 
 servant, later married to his master's daughter, Magia. 
 This name of his mother had doubtless much to do with 
 the strange metamorphosis of Virgil in the Middle Ages, 
 when his real career was quite forgotten, and he became, 
 in numberless popular legends, a chief of Mages or sorcer- 
 ers. Far more than in the case of Catullus, whose family 
 enjoyed wealth and social rank in Verona, is it probable 
 that the poet was of native Keltic stock. The valley of
 
 158 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 the Po was still a semi-foreign province, though the 
 *'Transpadanes" acquired the right of Roman citizenship, 
 through Julius Caesar, so long their governor, in the 
 eventful year 49 B.C. Scholarly training seems to have 
 been easily accessible among them, and to have been re- 
 ceived with the fresh enthusiasm of an unjaded race. This 
 Mantuan peasant, like Horace's freedman father, was 
 eager, and in some way able, to give his brilliant son the 
 best advantages. 
 
 Virgil's verse-making appears to have begun in very 
 early boyhood. His first lines, preserved by his chief 
 biographer, Suetonius, are an elegiac couplet on a famous 
 outlaw : 
 
 *' Under this mountain of stones is covered a robber, Ballista. 
 Safely by day or by niglit, traveller, fare on your way." 
 
 Unimportant as it seems, this is imitated so early as Ovid. 
 
 Next, at the age of sixteen, Virgil is credited with the 
 " Gnat," a poem still extant. In 414 hexameters we are 
 told how the bite of the insect, though repaid only by a fatal 
 slap, awakens the cow-herd and saves him from a venom- 
 ous serpent. The injured ghost of the gnat, again visit- 
 ing by night the sleeping herdsman, gives a long account 
 of the under-world. This poem, it need hardly be said, is 
 tasteless enough in plot to be ascribed even to an ordinary 
 boy of sixteen. In certain metrical features, however, 
 notably the avoidance of elision, it shows a later stage of 
 pedantic accuracy than the mature Virgil ever reached. It 
 is probably not his, but certainly was ascribed to him very 
 early. The Octavius to whom it was dedicated was doubt- 
 less the emperor. Perhaps tliese verses are to be con- 
 nected with the legend that the poet and the prince were 
 schoolmates in early boyhood. 
 
 Certainly, at the age of sixteen — when Octavian was 
 only nine — Virgil was in Rome, studying rhetoric under
 
 VIRGIL 159 
 
 the best masters. Abont this time he transferred his alle- 
 giance to philosophy, and bade solemn but lingering fare- 
 well to verse ; in affectionate verses, if they be indeed his : 
 
 " Begone, O Muses, ay, begone : altho' 
 Sweet Muses ; for we will the truth confess. 
 Sweet have ye been ! And on my pages look 
 Ye yet again ; but modestly, nor oft." 
 
 His new master was a famous Epicurean, named Siron. 
 This is iust about the date of Lucretius's 
 death, and the very year in which the rather 
 slight allusion to that poet's work occurs in the letters of 
 Cicero ad Quint. Cicero. It sccms more than likely that the 
 frat., ii., II, 4. young Mantuan strove to attain to that se- 
 rene disbelief as to the spiritual world, that lofty, care-free 
 view of this life, which Lucretius promises to men through 
 his own austere creed. The influence of the elder poet is 
 clearly traceable in many passages, but the warmer im- 
 agination of Virgil brought him back, before the Sixth 
 ^neid was composed, to a more spiritual mysticism, 
 closely akin to Plato's. 
 
 Yet perhaps the haunting echo of agnostic doubt, at 
 least, is heard in the famous passage ^neid, VI., 893-98, 
 where ^neas and the Sibyl leave the under-world at last 
 through the gate of ivory, by which unreal dreams come 
 forth to men. Certainly there is something quite like 
 envy in the passage, presently cited, which is generally un- 
 derstood as an allusion to Lucretius, who claimed to have 
 trampled religion under foot. Yet we have seen that both 
 Epicures and Lucretius, while denying to the gods the crea- 
 tive or governing power, still professed belief in their im- 
 mortal and changeless existence. Virgil, like nearly all 
 men of creative imagination, clung to the hope of endless 
 life for the human soul as well. The mysteries of creation 
 and of Nature's laws, which Lucretius fancied his science
 
 160 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 liad fully solved, Virgil hardly dares hope that inspiration 
 will ever reveal. The whole passage is so clearly illustrative 
 of Virgil's early — and lasting — convictions, that we may 
 properly cite it here as from his inner biography, 
 
 "Happy are they, beyond man's lot, if aware 
 aeorglc II.. 458- ^^ ^^^ blessing. 
 
 94. 
 
 Husbandmen, to whom, remote from clash- 
 ing of armies. 
 Earth, repaying her debts, aecordeth an easy existence. 
 . . . Dearest of all, it is true, unto i7ie are the sweet- 
 toned Muses. 
 Sacrifice unto them in eager devotion I offer. 
 May they, accepting it, teach me the paths of the stars in the 
 
 heavens, 
 Luna's phases, the sun's diverse eclipses, and wherefore 
 Earth is shaken, or why the billows are fiercely uplifted. 
 Why do the wintry suns so hasten to dip in the ocean ? 
 What is the power meantime that our wearisome nights is 
 retarding ? 
 
 Yet if it be not mine to attain to the secrets of Nature, 
 Since by the sluggish blood about my heart I am hindered, 
 Yet be the fields my delight, with the rivers that water the 
 
 valleys ; 
 Surely the streams I may love, and forests, forgetful of 
 
 glory ... 
 Blessed indeed is he who attaineth the sources of all things, 
 Whoso under his feet each mortal terror has trampled. 
 Even relentless Fate, with the roar of insatiate Hades. 
 Yet is he happy who winneth the rustic divinities' friendship: 
 Pan, and the sisterhood of the Nymphs, and the hoary Sil- 
 
 These tones are the sincerest in all Virgilian song. 
 Some of the lines are actually relocated in the yEneid. 
 lie wavers between faith and doubt; he returns to simple 
 and rural nature /or consolation. Nothing could be more
 
 MELPOMEXE, YIRGIL, AXD CLIO. 
 Hiidrnmetum mosaic at Susa, Tunisia.
 
 VIEGIL 161 
 
 modern, more like Clough's or Matthew Arnold's verse. As 
 for the rude local gods whom he names, they but typify 
 the familiar scenes themselves. Educated Komans, from 
 Cicero down, were only more cautious than Lucretias, not 
 more credulous. No serious enlightened man believed 
 the Olympian myths, or their freely embroidered Latin 
 equivalents. All large constructive faith was dead. 
 
 But this lover of rustic life, of the old simple ways and 
 faiths of his own people, was early drawn into the service 
 of the imperial court and dynasty, which considered the 
 outworn Olympic theology, and especially, with it, the 
 worship of the dead Julius and the living Augustus, as an 
 eminently desirable and edifying belief : for the people. 
 That the rather undignified and jocular Octavian, in his 
 own familiar circle which included both the poets, failed 
 to ridicule such pretensions for himself, few will believe. 
 Even in a public reading at court, such fulsome passages 
 as Aeneid, VI., 791-805, can hardly have been really agree- 
 able to poet or patron. It is perhaps worth noting that 
 Virgil actually ventures to intimate his disapproval of 
 Julius's action in beginning the war with 
 iCneid, vi., 834-. Pompey. 
 
 i)ante/purga^°' " Thou, be the first to refrain, who derivest 
 torlo, i.,40-109. thy race from Olympus ! 
 
 Cast thou weapons out of thy hands." 
 
 Every such gleam of free speech is doubly welcome. A 
 yet bolder half-line on Cato, making him judge in the 
 under-world, is splendidly amplified by Dante. 
 
 However, not Virgil's sense of policy alone, but sincere 
 gratitude also, bade him tune his courtly harp. After the 
 decisive victory at Philippi the lands of the 
 '*^ " ' .- - towns that had opposed the triumvirs were 
 generally confiscated, to sate the rapacious and unruly sol- 
 diers of the legions. Virgil, early fatherless, had in some
 
 162 THE AUGUSTAN- AGE 
 
 way acquired a small farm of his own near Cremona. From 
 this he was ejected, with some danger even to his life. 
 But Asinius Pollio, then governor of the district, witli the 
 poet Cornelius Callus and the learned lawyer Alfenus 
 Rufus, interested tiiemselves warmly for him, and made 
 him personally known even to the young Octavian, who 
 was already master of Italy. 
 
 The exact final result is not clear. In the first Eclogue 
 Virgil seems to be thanking Augustus for his restoration. 
 Later we find him in the enjoyment of a Campanian cstate> 
 doubtless a gift, like Horace's Sabine farm. Furthermore, 
 both poets appear to have had some domicile near Tarentum 
 also, as well as at Rome itself. Mgecenas's precise share in 
 Virgil's prosperity is disputed. 
 
 BUCOLICS 
 
 Of the ten poems known as Bucolics or Eclogues some 
 had doubtless already appeared singly. These are the ear- 
 liest unquestioned Virgilian works. This group, indicated 
 by the title as a selection, was evidently arranged by Virgil 
 in the present order, and was issued about the year 39 B.C. 
 Each is brief, the longest 111 verses, and all are in hexam- 
 eterSo 
 
 These poems are nearly all, in form, dialogues, or songs, 
 of shepherds . The debt to Theocritos is groat, and openly 
 avowed, many lines being more or less perfect translations. 
 With the accurate Sicilian scenery of the Greek poet are 
 mingled many touches true only of northern Italy. But 
 tills is the least of the incongruities. The names of his 
 great Roman friends., political references, adulation of the 
 Emperor, are mingled with the chatter of the clowns. 
 Recondite mystical allusions, mythical touches, and over 
 all the witcliery of a dreamy, languorous style, made this 
 indeed a novelty in literature.
 
 VIRGIL 163 
 
 The various elements, and tlieir reluctant fusion, may 
 be seen especially in the tenth Eclogue. The Roman 
 soldier-poet Gallus is its centre. His jilting by some fickle 
 lady is made more prominent than most lovers would desire. 
 He is descried lying under a lonely rock in Arcadia, while 
 even the mountain-peaks drop tears for him, and Pan, Sil- 
 vanus, and Apollo come to console him. Doubtless this 
 Apollo is the poets' overlord, in the Arcadia of romance or 
 dreamland. Yet the vines trained over willow-trees make 
 a distinctly Lombardesque touch. Gallus himself utters 
 exactly half of the 77 verses, and finally decides that Love 
 can neither be resisted nor beguiled. 
 
 "Amor conquereth all ; let us too yield unto Amor." 
 
 Yet the poem is all Virgil's. The beginning and close even 
 mark in conventional phrases its position as last of the 
 Bucolics. It is a tangled web of absurdities. Many of the 
 best touches are suggested by Theocritos, in whose pasto- 
 rals they were far more truthful bits of local color. Yet 
 even here no one can doubt that a poet, however bewil- 
 dered in his own mazy fancies, is singing sweetly. 
 
 The dead Daphnis, of whom both shepherds chant 
 praises in the Fifth Eclogue, can hardly be other than 
 Julius Caesar. He is already on the threshold of Olympus, 
 is worshipped on an equality with Apollo, is the good 
 Genius of the peaceful time just beginning. The very 
 mountains and hills cry aloud in his praise, the forests 
 raise the song : 
 
 " A god, a god is he ! " 
 
 The most lofty and famous of all, however, is the Fourth 
 Eclogue, uttered in the poet's own person, yet in Theoc- 
 ritean tones still. 
 
 " Now let us sing on a loftier theme, ye Sicilian Muses."
 
 164 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 In Pollio's consulship is to be born a child that shall 
 indeed bring back the age of gold. As he grows, venom- 
 ous herbs shall perish, the serpent shall die. 
 The plough, the harrow, and the pruning- 
 hook will be needed no more. It is not strange that men 
 long fancied these verses were echoes of Isaiah's language, 
 or even a directly inspired prophecy of the Messiah. Such 
 notions are long since abandoned. The child so eagerly 
 expected must have been the fruit either of Octavian's or 
 Antony's recent marriage. If, as is likely, it was Augus- 
 tus's infamous daughter Julia, the prophet was blind in- 
 deed. 
 
 These ten pastorals, eight hundred and thirty verses in 
 all, made the poet famous. The voice of praise was loud 
 and enthusiastic from the first. Shy Virgil in the Eoman 
 streets was beset by admiring crowds, and once at least 
 overwhelmed with a general ovation in the theatre. Per- 
 haps parody is the final evidence of wide-spread fame, and 
 this also began at once. Some examples that are reported 
 seem but banter and fun, as when a mere inserted stop 
 before a final word changes 
 
 " Fresh milk neither in summer nor yet in winter is lacking," 
 
 to 
 
 "Fresh milk neither in summer nor yet in winter I 'tis lack- 
 ing." 
 
 Perhaps the provincial poet was seriously accused of false 
 or faulty Latin. Thus in the familiar opening line : 
 
 " Tityrus, you as you lie by the wide-spreading beech-tree are 
 covered," 
 
 the use of tcgmbie seems sharply attacked in 
 
 '^ Tityrus, why, if your toga be warm, such a coverlet alBo?"
 
 VIRGIL 165 
 
 GEORGICS 
 
 The Georgics, in fonr books, two thousand one hundred 
 
 and eighty hexameters, constitute a far more sustained 
 
 task. The story that they occupied Virgil 
 
 36-39 B.C. (?) -^ /. 1,1 
 
 seven years would make him complete less 
 than one verse each day. They do, however, reveal the 
 utmost care and polish. Not later than the year 29 B.C. 
 these books were complete, and were read aloud by Mae- 
 cenas and Virgil to Augustus *' in a continuous four days 
 session," says Suetonius, though so many hours would more 
 than suffice for the mere reading, without discussion. 
 
 The work seems to have been requested, or even ordered, 
 by Maecenas. A serious attempt to revive the neglected 
 agriculture of Italy it can hardly have been considered, 
 by either of them. Indeed, Virgil frankly indicates his 
 desire to ''bestow honor upon an ignoble theme." The 
 need of such a revival had been realized since the time of 
 the Gracchi, at least. Gate's book has been mentioned, 
 and also Varro's treatise in dialogue-form, which was com- 
 posed in 36 B.C., so may have sprung from the same sug- 
 gestion that produced the Georgics. 
 
 Virgil nominally takes Hesiod as his guide, yet he gives 
 us far less plain, practical advice than did the old Boeotian 
 peasant. As Hesiod managed to include accounts of Prome- 
 theus, Pandora, the five Ages, so Virgil more than rivals 
 him by world-wide digression in quest of nobler poetic 
 fields. The weather signs in Book I. are largely drawn 
 from the Greek Aratos's Prognostics : yet even here Virgil 
 is far more anxious to please and surprise as a poet than to 
 •teach practical meteorology. 
 
 AVith all this, in a poem, certainly no one will quarrel : 
 and even he who reads for didactic uses may actually learn 
 something of grain culture from Book I., more from Book 
 II. as to trees and grape-vines. Book III., on the breed-
 
 166 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 iiig and care of domestic animals, is less suitable for 
 scholastic use. The long and rather arrogant prologue 
 foreshadows a great epic on Augustus's military exploits, 
 a promise of which the iEneid is to some extent a fulfil- 
 ment. 
 
 Lastly, Book IV. is devoted to bees. This section, how- 
 ever, is affected by a tradition most injurious to Virgil's 
 repute for loyalty and courage. The great commentator 
 Servius remarks, on the Tenth Eclogue, that the latter 
 half of the Fourth Georgic also, as first published, was 
 entirely taken up with Gallus's praises. In 27 B.C. Gal- 
 lus incurred the ill-will of Augustus, was exiled, and 
 ended his own life by falling upon his sword. Imperial 
 revenge pursued him still. Virgil consented to remove 
 this laudatory passage, and substituted for it the long ac- 
 count of Thessalian Aristaeus, and his device for secur- 
 ing bees, doubtless also the interwoven episode on Or- 
 pheus and Eurydice. The story seems to be authentic, 
 and Augustus's success in suppressing the earlier edition 
 has proved complete. 
 
 Most classical scholars would agree upon the Georgics as 
 the most perfect and artistic poem in all Latin literature. 
 The material is one in Avhicli Virgil's lack of dramatic and 
 constructive force is felt as little as possible. Indeed, the 
 subject is so flexible, the general method is so discursive, 
 that any digression can be and is gracefully justified, or 
 even half-concealed. Probably many lyric flights of early 
 years, many long-hoaixled musical phrases or fancies, are 
 here imbedded in the mosaic pattern. 
 
 The display of Alexandrian erudition, the allusions to 
 obscure Hellenic names or legends, may better please the 
 learned historian or mythologist than the mere lover of 
 pure art and beauty. We must always remember, how- 
 ever, that real classic mythology is nearly all of Greek 
 origin, that plagiarism then bore no stigma, that indeed
 
 r 
 
 M«i« 
 
 
 GEUKCilCS, IV.. 11,S-124, AXD ILLUSTRATIOX. 
 From a A'irgil manuscript in the Vatican.
 
 VIRGIL 167 
 
 tliese ver}' allnsions are often the only possible ackno\\ 1- 
 edgment of Virgil's debt to his masters. Finally, he who 
 enjoys only purely creative genius, or communion with 
 nature in her elemental forms, will find little indeed to 
 satisfy him in the Latin poets — save only Lucretius. 
 
 ^NEID 
 
 It was doubtless by imperial command, in some form or 
 other, that the poet spent his last eleven years on his 
 national ei3ic. Not Augustus, and not ^neas, is the pro- 
 tagonist in this largest and most ambitious work of Virgil. 
 Rather in the long rolling hexameter measure, repeated 
 almost ten thousand times, we seem to hear the resistless 
 tread of a tireless folk, pushing on through the changing 
 centuries to the overlordship of Latium, of the peninsula, 
 of the wide Mediterranean world. Though the poet's 
 tenderest love is always for far-away Lombardy, though he 
 detests the imperial city where the clients throng at dawn 
 at the patron's haughty palace-gates, yet in his national 
 pride he too is a Roman. The most famous utterance of 
 this feeling, in Virgilian or any other Latin verse, has 
 
 already been cited. It is the culmination of 
 Supra, p. 5. -^ . 
 
 the passage in the Sixth Book, where a pro- 
 cession of heroes, his unborn Roman descendants — an ar 
 ray longer far than the line of Banquo's crowned children — 
 passes before Aeneas's astonished eyes. 
 
 Again, when the magic shield is created by Vulcan, the 
 imitative artist improves in one respect upon the Iliad, by 
 /Eneid, viii., drawing the carven scenes from the later 
 626 728. events of Italian history. Here not merely an- 
 
 cient legends, but Cleopatra, Augustus, even mere mortals 
 still living, like Agrippa, are included. In these historical 
 passages Ennius was doubtless Virgil's most dangerous 
 rival.
 
 168 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 It was not strange that early Roman chroniclers, or 
 Greek flatterers, seized upon the Homeric -^neus as the 
 best available link between the old mythic cycle and the 
 rather rude and prosaic Roman annals. The Trojan race, 
 though deservedly punished for upholding Paris's crime, 
 had long enjoyed the highest favor, and still retained the 
 love, of Zeus and other gods. A passage in the Iliad 
 makes a hostile divinity, Poseidon the sea-lord, announce 
 ^neas as the future ruler and parent of rulers over the 
 Trojan people. There is no hint of a migration. Even if 
 this be an interpolation, that particular Ilomerid, at least, 
 was apparently singing to please an Asiatic monarch's ear, 
 who claimed descent from Aphrodite's beloved son. 
 
 A fragment from a lost play of Sophocles depicts ^neas, 
 with child and sire, in the familiar group, setting forth into 
 exile, we know not whither. A Sicilian poet, Stesichoros, 
 brought him on a westward voyage to his own lovely island. 
 The junction with the Romulus-myth was at first made 
 awkwardly, by assigning the eponymous founder to ^ueas 
 as son or grandson. Soon, however, the gap of over four 
 centuries between Troy's fall and Rome's origin, according 
 to the received chronology, made requisite the long, shad- 
 owy line of Alban kings between yEneas and Romulus. 
 
 This needed stop-gap is cleverly utilized by oilr poet in 
 Zeus's opening prophecy. ^Eneas is to rule but three years, 
 Ascanius thirty, his Alban successors three hundred, while 
 as to the Romans, says the king of the gods : 
 
 "Neitlxer a limit in time nor yet of power I assign them : 
 Empire endless 1 grant." 
 
 Such passages helped to associate Virgil with the undying 
 reverence for Rome in mediaeval times. Dante clearly 
 regards him as a prophet of the papacy and its spiritual 
 supremacy. 
 
 The weakest link in the chain is the connection of
 
 VIRGIL 169 
 
 Caesar with the sacred line. jEneas's son Ascanius, says 
 Virgil, coming from Troy, or Ilium, would naturally be 
 called Ilus, the Ilian. What more natural than the softer 
 form lulus, from which, finally, the adjective lulms is self- 
 evidently derived. A mercenary herald's college, inventing 
 Norman ancestry for a millionnaire parvenu, could hardly 
 be more ingenious. 
 
 It is well known that Virgil wished his unfinished 
 ^neid to be destroyed. This would doubtless have been 
 almost impossible. Copies of large portions, at least, must 
 have been in various hands. The work appears to be 
 essentially complete, and certainly is preserved in an in- 
 comparably more perfect state than Lucretius's treatise. 
 The brother-poets who published it did not even venture 
 to piece out the rather frequent half -lines, which are the 
 clearest evidence that the final touches were never given. 
 Minor discrepancies exist, as in every human labor so 
 extensive and detailed. Yet the story begun is fairly 
 finished. 
 
 Even the sudden close, at the death of ^neas's rival in 
 love and war, may be itself a strong piece of constructive 
 criticism. Many students hold that the original Iliad, or 
 Achilleid, ended, and wisely ended, where Hector pants 
 out his life at Achilles's feet. Possibly Virgil agreed with 
 them. 
 
 The real consummation has occurred just before the 
 duel of Turnus and ^neas, when Jupiter bids Juno 
 abandon the lost cause, and she makes reluctant but whole- 
 hearted submission. The only boon she demands, and 
 receives, is that the name of the Trojans, so long hateful 
 to her, shall be effaced. These divine sky-drawn figures 
 are certainly large, dignified, stately, and if they be some- 
 what dim, and wavering in outline, we must remember that 
 their poetic creator is upborne by no enthusiastic living 
 faith, among his hearers or in his own heart. At least
 
 170 * THK AUGUSTA^r AGE 
 
 the full tones of national pride resound once again in theii 
 words. Juno makes the request : 
 
 " Still let Lutinm abide, and the kings for ages in Alba. 
 
 Call them not Teucrians now, nor named with the name of 
 the Trojans, 
 
 Fallen is Troy; and fallen alike be the name with the na- 
 tion. . . ." 
 
 And Jupiter answers : 
 
 " Surely the Latian name shall abide, and the Teucrians only 
 Merge in the race they join. Both manners and rites will I 
 
 give them. 
 So shall a people arise, with the blood of Ausonia mingled, 
 High in piety over men, or even immortals. 
 Never another race like them shall honor thy altars." 
 
 We certainly do not love and cherish Virgil, however, 
 chiefly for these full-mouthed utterances of national feel- 
 ing, nor do we believe later antiquity did. It is easy to 
 credit the tradition that he wrote out his entire plot, rap- 
 idly, in prose, and then elaborated each book or lesser epi- 
 „ .. „ sode as the spirit moved. Many a minor 
 
 /Eneid, V, 833- ^ -J 
 
 63 ; episode, like Palinurus's death, is as com- 
 
 vi., 337-62. plete as an Iloratian ode, and often irrecon- 
 cilable in detail with a passage of some other book. 
 
 The choice of Books II., IV., and VI., for the great read- 
 ing at court was well-advised. It is to be noted that all 
 three deal with incidents previous to ^neas's first arrival in 
 Latium. Each is, in fact, a great episode. In neither is 
 the hero the chief object of interest. 
 
 The loss of the Greek epic cycle, largely an appendix to 
 the Iliad, leaves Virgil's second book our chief ancient 
 picture of Troy's downfall, and cuts off intelligent judg- 
 ment as to its essential originality in detail. The ]3ano- 
 rama of disaster is here most effectively unrolled. Priam
 
 VIRGIL 171 
 
 is the figure most firmly stamped on the memory. Cnri- 
 ously enough, a line describing his " headless trunk that 
 . lies upon the shore" — whereas he had simply 
 
 'been killed by a sword-thrnst in his own 
 court-yard — seems to hint that the poet was distracted 
 by the relatively recent death of Pompey : a character 
 whose fate leaves us cold, but appealed mightily to his 
 own generation. 
 
 The reader is expected to realize, that whatever sin Troy 
 had committed has been fully atoned. The chief culprit, 
 Paris, was already dead, and his very name is rather con- 
 spicuous for its absence from the poem. A rival, indeed, 
 
 /Cneid, iv., ouce applies it m bitter scorn to ^neas, as 
 ^'5-' 7. an Asiatic interloper who carries olf another's 
 bride. No doubt Paris was the least agreeable of ances- 
 tral kinsmen to Koman pride. 
 
 This question may be connected with the chief problem 
 of literary criticism in the second book. A vivid and' 
 
 /Eneid, H., powerful passagc, in which Helen appears, 
 567-88. is missing from some MSS., and is bracketed 
 by many editors. The discussion as to its genuineness is 
 at least as old as Suetonius. Perhaps Virgil himself re- 
 mained in doubt whether Helen should be made prominent 
 at all. This, again, is part of the large and difficult ques- 
 tion, how Eoman tradition ever came to accept a close and 
 filial relation with a city which had been destroyed by the 
 righteous doom of the gods, for a sin against tlie funda- 
 mental law of the family and the sacred rights of hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 The unhappy love and tragic death of Queen Dido owes 
 much to Apollonios Rhodios's account of Medea's passion, 
 but is a masterpiece in itself. The purpose of the episode 
 seems to be to discover, in this conjugal love turned to 
 bitterness, the source of the long hatred between the two 
 races. It is needless to raise historical difficulties over Car-
 
 172 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 thaginiiin Dido's union with Trojan iEneas — thougli they 
 shoukl be set some centuries apart — if the dramatic effect 
 be attained. Certainly tlie prophetic allusion to llamilcar 
 and Hannibal is thrilling, even to us. 
 
 " Never between our races, I pray, be love or alliance. 
 May thou arise from my bones, unknown avenger, hereafter, 
 Ever with sword and fire to pursue tlie Dardanian settlers! 
 Soon, or in after days, whenever the power is accorded. 
 Shores be arrayed 'gainst shores ; may the waves still strive 
 
 with the waters; 
 Army with army contend, both they and the sons of their 
 
 offspring! " 
 
 The whole treatment of Dido, and our feeling for her, 
 reveal the great change made by Christianity, by chivalry, 
 by modern humanity, in the attitude toward woman. 
 Doubtless the Roman listener was pleased to see the Punic 
 queen flouted and deserted. But an artist must be su- 
 perior to the brutal instincts of his folk. Homer could 
 have taught him a more chivalric courtesy. Surely, the 
 Homeric Hector who loved Andromache so truly, and had 
 uttered only words of kindness even to Helen, would have 
 scorned this cold-hearted kinsman. 
 
 The visit to the under-world is on the whole the culmina- 
 tion of the poem. The belief in reincarnation is not clearly 
 reconciled with the fixed doom of many, both the good 
 and the evil, in Hades. The future Romans shown to 
 -^neas, also, are not mere phantoms, but real souls. Yet 
 tliey too are withdrawn from the perpetual 
 ' ' cycle of purification, life, and death. They 
 
 must wait idly for many centuries, it would seem, in 
 the sequestered shade where Anchiscs reviews them. In 
 general, the poet has little of Dante's accuracy and consis- 
 tency of delineation. One cannot plot out his under- world 
 at all. But the larger ether, the dim-lit majesty of his un-
 
 ,v...«*:-"v..-:.?^-riV-3l 
 
 a^JDfmi5v.vfc.\^\l{^{AlM^&£OA^^\fvM0lT• 
 
 ^NEII), IV.. 50-01, AXD ILJA'STKATIOX. 
 From a Virgil manuscript in the Vatican.
 
 VIRGIL 173 
 
 earthly realm, give it an ideal beauty more like Plato's 
 great mythic pictures in the " Phaidros/' or at the close 
 of the " Republic," than anything else of Roman creation. 
 Yet its culmination in the passage on the boy Marcellns, 
 graceful and pathetic as it is, must be considered a di- 
 gression from epic propriety into courtly adulation. 
 
 The comparative neglect of the last six books by modern 
 students is inevitable. The battle scenes, even in the 
 Iliad, are by no means favorites, and a suspicion of their 
 unreality often creeps over the reader. Virgil, certainly, 
 was unfamiliar with martial strife in any form, and re- 
 mote indeed from duels between talkative champions who 
 dash about in chariots. The visible entrance of the gods 
 upon these scenes of carnage is, in an Augustan age, 
 not merely incredible, but shocks us as irreverent. 
 
 In general, the poet's own zeal and energy are not fully 
 maintained. His sympathies seem often on the side of 
 Turnus and his Italians, who fight against the foreign in- 
 vader. Still, the last adventures and generous death of 
 Nisus and Euryalus form a touching episode. Often, 
 again, the poet's thoughts stray to calmer scenes. The 
 rustic luxury of Arcadian Evander's seat of power, where 
 later Rome was to stand, is lovingly detailed. 
 
 An original figure is the maiden warrior Camilla : unless 
 the Amazon queen Penthesilea, in the Greek epic cycle, 
 was her lost prototype. This young martyr of Italian 
 freedom, as Dante seems to have regarded her, is the first 
 Virgilian character mentioned in the Commedia, whose au- 
 thor knew the whole vEneid by heart. In the sketch of 
 her childhood the gentle poet reverts gladly to his own boy- 
 ish memories. And to the Georgics, even to some shining 
 verses in the bewildering Eclogues, the truest lovers of 
 Virgil may well return : to rustic scenes, and unambitious 
 strains.
 
 17-i THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 Many sides of Virgilian study must here be left untouched. 
 He was a most learned poet, in the Alexandrian sense. 
 All earlier Greek and Roman literature, philosophy, mythic 
 lore, was at his command. His allusiveness is much like 
 Milton's, save that his acquaintance with the Hebrew 
 prophets is not clearly proven. The amount of his open 
 borrowing, of literal translation, from Homer and others, 
 is astonishing. The lines of Ennius which are extant, 
 are largely those quoted by Macrobius to convict Virgil of 
 plagiarism. If we had the entire literature that was ac- 
 cessible in the Augustan age, nearly every Virgilian verse 
 might appear a translation or an echo. Yet nearly all he 
 borrows becomes his own by royal right of graceful fitness 
 in use. Even as the expression, in epic verse, of the most 
 imperious and martial of races, his ^neid must always re- 
 tain its historic prominence, despite the general feeling, 
 that his was the heavy burden of an honor unto which he 
 was not born. 
 
 THE ''APPENDIX." 
 
 Allusion has been made to some of the poems in the 
 " Virgilian Appendix," ascril)ed by Suetonius and others to 
 the poet's early youth, even to his sixteenth year. The 
 " Culex" or Gnat seems to be not the work of a gifted, 
 dreamy boy, but of a clever though tasteless pedant, who 
 meant to claim for it Virgilian authorship. The apj)eal to 
 Octavius as " holy child," and the prophecy 
 
 " Later in graver tones my learned Muse shall address thee," 
 
 could hardly have been uttered by Virgil in 54 B.C., five 
 years before Octavius's great-uncle became dictator, ten 
 years before the boy took his kinsman's name or heritage. 
 It is a clever but transparent invention, after Augustus's 
 elevation to the highest place, and after Virgil had become
 
 VIKGIL 175 
 
 a court poet. It is not Virgil's, because he could not then 
 have done it so badly. 
 
 The " ^tna," in 646 hexameters, is a scientific essay on 
 the origin and nature of volcanic outbreaks. The last 
 forty lines have a more human interest, describing an act of 
 filial heroism and miraculous escape in the time of a great 
 eruption. The poem is a century later than Virgil, remote 
 from him in tone, and apparently influenced by scientific 
 essays of Seneca. The subject, and the bad condition of 
 the text, make it of minor literary value. 
 
 The "Ciris" tells the tragic story of Scylla, princess of 
 Megara, who, having fallen in love with the invader Minos, 
 betrays her father. Minos wins the town, but punishes the 
 traitress. She is sent out to sea, lashed in a boat, and 
 eventually is transformed into a sea-bird, to be forever pur- 
 sued by her father in an eagle's guise. The myth was 
 known to Virgil, indeed the last four of the 541 lines are 
 taken bodily from the First Georgic. The poem is full of 
 neat plagiarisms from Virgil and Catullus. It is one of 
 many evidences that clever versifying was a general accom- 
 plishment under the early emperors. 
 
 The " Dirae " is a poem of 183 hexameters, the last eighty 
 of which are better regarded as a separate composition, 
 usually entitled by modern editors " Lydia." The poet 
 has been deprived of his estate by a rude soldier : hence, 
 no doubt, the ascription of the verses to Virgil. As Catul- 
 lus's friend Valerius Cato had a similar mishap, and also 
 is known to have sung the praises of a be- 
 
 . supra, p. 123 j^^^^ Lydia, this work is often attributed to 
 
 him. The style, and the circumstances, are clearly not 
 Virgilian ; but the events described seem to be those of 
 the year 41 B.C., in which Virgil's farm also was confis- 
 cated. 
 
 The other poems in the Appendix are brief, and of minor 
 importance. One in iambic verse is cited by Suetonius, and
 
 176 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 is quoted here on a previous page as probably genuine. 
 
 Another is a parody on Catullus's famous dedication of his 
 
 yacht. Other traces of the same poet's in- 
 
 Supra, p. 159 ^ .1 --I T 1 , 
 
 iiuence are to be seen in these slight experi- 
 ments, as would be naturally expected. The metres, 
 also, are varied. They may very well be in part boyish 
 exercises of Virgil. 
 
 Not until the Middle Ages was the " Moretum," or Rus- 
 tic Breakfast, ascribed to our poet. It is not at all in his 
 style, but probably of the Augustan age. The little poem 
 of 124 hexameters is full of homely description as accurate 
 as a Dutch painting. In some parts it reminds us of 
 Ovid's " Philemon and Baucis," but without the playfulness 
 of that rather frivolous poet. The picture is well worth 
 studying for its own sake. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The best English edition of Virgil is by Conington, in three vol- 
 umes of the " Bibliotheca Classica." Nettleship's more laborious 
 scholarship has increased the value of the latest revision. The poems 
 of the Appendix, and the " Moretum," are to be found in Bahrens's 
 " Poetae Latini Miuores." They are there atrociously edited, but the 
 true text can be restored from the foot-notes. Professor Nettleship also 
 published the Latin Lives of Virgil, with a useful essay. The great 
 Latin commentary by Servius has often a literary quality of its own. 
 In Macrobius is much discussion of Virgil's style, notably on his 
 " plagiarism," with long lists of parallel passages. 
 
 Conington's free prose rendering of all the works is valuable. His 
 rhymed ^neid in the galloping metres of Scott, William Morris's 
 in fourteen-syllable couplets, and Dryden's in heroics, are all too 
 swift and noisy to represent the original music. Sir Charles Bowen's 
 version is also rhymed, is faithful, tasteful, and spirited. His line 
 lacks only the final syllable of the hexameter. Professor Tyrrell in a 
 special appendix discusses the various Virgilian translators most inter- 
 estingly. A delightful rendering of the Georgics, all too little 
 known, is Miss Harriet Waters Preston's, in an irregular verse of five 
 accents and varying rhyme.
 
 VIRGIL 177 
 
 Sellar's rolunie on Virgil is the fullest in English. Some readers find 
 it soporific. In French we may mention especially Boissier's delight- 
 ful volume, and Sainte-Beuve's early work. Here as everywhere 
 Kibbeck's " Geschichte der Romischen Dichtung " is of importance. 
 
 The writer has printed two previous briefer studies on Virgil : in the 
 Warner Library, and in the Chautauquan for April, 1898. The most 
 famous essay, by Myers, is rather a rhapsody. Professor Mackail's 
 treatment of the poet is more reverent than the present one, yet he 
 agrees that the three chief elements in the ^Eneid, Homeric tradition, 
 Roman patriotiflm, and Pantheistic philosophy, could not be perfectly 
 fused. 
 
 Comparetti's "Virgil in the Middle Ages" opens one of the most 
 curious chapters in the history of superstition. The early pictorial 
 illustrations in the Vatican manuscript have recently been reproduced.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 LIVY 
 
 More fitly than any poet may this author be set beside 
 Virgil. Above all other Latin compositions the "JEneis" 
 59 B.C.- ^^^^ the "Annales" are fit for virginal and 
 
 17 A.D. boyish ears. These are the two great patri- 
 
 otic pictures of the Roman past. Neither artist is fettered 
 by any sense of painful historical truth, nor yet gifted with 
 the largest creative imagination. The highest charm of 
 each is what we call style, or perfect taste, exerted by both 
 upon a mosaic of ideas and materials mainly borrowed. 
 Yet they have put their individual and national stamp upon 
 their task. This is typical of the best Roman writing 
 generally. 
 
 Titus Livius also like Catullus, Nepos, and _Virgil, 
 came from Lombardy. His native city, IPadua, had the 
 highest repute for morality among all Italian towns. He 
 was just too young to fight, as did his people generally, 
 against the triumvirs. To Padua he returned 
 at last to die. Yet his career seems to have 
 been chiefly in the city itself, which he knows perfectly. 
 There is no reason to suppose him to have been a kinsman 
 to the great house of the Livii, into which Augustus mar- 
 ried, nor indeed a Latin at all. His pure gift, like Virgil's, 
 is quite as likely to have come from an alien stock. 
 
 We boar of a rhotorieal manual addressed to his son, and 
 
 also of pliilosoiihical essays, some of them 
 
 I., 3P. m popular style and dialogue form. The 
 
 Seneca. Epist . essavs wcrc copiously illustrated with histori- 
 
 *'' cal material. Still, Livy's fame must always 
 
 178
 
 LIVT 179 
 
 have rested upon a single essay, his monumental Koman 
 History. 
 
 His discontent at the loss of liberty is hardly veiled. He 
 speaks despairingly of his own time " in which we can en- 
 dure neither onr own faults nor the reme- 
 dies.^' One chief consolation in his absorb- 
 ing task is to be meantime withdrawn " from the view of the 
 evils which the state has for many years be- 
 held/' Despite personal friendship and re- 
 gard for " Augustus Csesar, the restorer and 
 
 founder of every shrine," Livy shows no hope- 
 fulness as to any better time to come. The 
 ^Ivra^"^""""' emperor seems to have admired and liked the 
 manly, frank, unpartisan author, whom he 
 Seneca, Nat. stigmatized as a ''Pompeian." Livy even vent- 
 Qua;st., v., ured to doubt whether the career of Julius 
 the dictator had been on the whole a blessing 
 or a curse. 
 
 His one hundred and forty-two books brought the story 
 from ^neas and Romulus down to the d^ath of Augustus's 
 step-son~ T)rnsus, in 9 B.C . A passage of Book I., mention- 
 ing two, not three, occasions when Eome was free from 
 war and the temple of Janus closed, proves that he is writ- 
 ing not later than 26 B.C. The grouping of books in dec- 
 ades seems to be given up in the later portions, so the total 
 number need not indicate a failure to complete an appointed 
 task. Yet the author, who survived Augustus by three 
 years, may naturally have endeavored to bring his work 
 down to that emperor's death. 
 
 The undertaking, though large, was not so enormous as 
 Martial indicates in his epigram on the early abridged 
 edition. 
 
 " Here into scanty parchment is monstrous Livy rolled, 
 He whom by no means when entire my library would hold." 
 
 In number of words, as in general scope, the essay coincided
 
 ;-'i< 
 
 180 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 very closely with Charles Knight's history of England, 
 which also gives an account of about eight centuries, and 
 traces the growth of an empire quite as vast as Kome's. 
 
 It may well be that Livy's account of his own and recent 
 times, if extant, would entitle him to rank among real liis- 
 toriaJis, i.e., investigators and expositors of exact truth as 
 to the events of the past. Of the entire work, however, 
 only a quarter remains. Books I.-X., XXI.-XLV., witha 
 few fragments, and a very brief ancient epitome of the lost 
 books. This list of contents is itself often our sole re- 
 source. The recovery of the missing rolls has been the 
 favorite dream of scholars and romancers, but is now hardly 
 to be hoped for. 
 
 At the arts, literature, social life of his people Livy 
 affords only chance glimpses. Of military tactics, civic 
 institutions, and law, even of his own day, he has barely a 
 layman's knowledge. Of the Alpine passes through which 
 he describes Hannibal as descending, even of such famous 
 and accessible battle-fields as the Caudine Forks or Cannae, 
 he claims, and reveals, no knowledge whatever. Yet even 
 these are not his gravest defects. 
 
 Scanty as are, and were, the data for a serious study of 
 early Eome, he does not appear to have seriously sought 
 and systematically used even these. The laws of the Tiings, 
 the annals of the pontiffs, the '' Origines " of Cato, are but 
 occasionally and carelessly cited. Sources, no doubt, of a 
 very different quality, he had in abundance : the books of 
 recent predecessors quite as uncritical as himself, purely 
 poetical fictions of Naevius, Ennius, and possibly older 
 balladists, and the funeral eulogies which even he knew to 
 be utterly regardless of truth. If he com- 
 pared these sources, it was merely to seek at 
 each turn the most interesting version, the most stimulat- 
 ing suggestion. Though he conforms in the main to a 
 hampering usage in giving a separate chronicle of each year.
 
 LIVY 181 
 
 the work is a rhetorical study, whose single aim is to in- 
 tensify our admiration for the old Roman patriotism, self- 
 sacrifice, and heroic qualities generally. 
 
 Nearly all his predecessors have vanished, leaving him 
 master of the field. This is quite true of his first decade, 
 closing with the year 293 B.C. Through the better-known 
 period from Hannibal's rise to the fall of 
 Macedonian Perseus, treated in twenty-five 
 extant books, Polybios's more sober and laborious narrative 
 of teii runs beside Livy's : and though fur less readable, is of 
 superior authority. 
 
 It is partly the chance of survival that makes Hannibal's 
 career the chief episode in Livy's story, and invites com- 
 parison with Herodotos's account of Xerxes's invasion. 
 The general similarity in genius and position of these two 
 writers has already been intimated. Direct imitations of 
 the elder by the younger author can probably 
 •g.. vy, ., 54. ^^ pointed out. Both should be first read, 
 and enjoyed, by the young, in extracts and episodes, as de- 
 lightful story-tellers, without too constant effort to extract 
 accurate truth from their glowing pages. 
 
 Indeed, the shortcomings of Livy, as seen by the critical 
 modern historian, heighten his charm as an imaginative 
 and creative author : as a great Dichter. He is eviden_tly 
 in love with his task, and wins for himself, as w ell as for 
 hi"s~h6i'oes, Fearty affection and ad mi ration,. . The feat- 
 ure in which he excels nearly all other historical writers is 
 in the speeches, usually, no doubt, wholly his own creation. 
 They are~exce!Ient character-studies^ and they also set 
 fortlTmasterf ully the larger features of Roman story, of the 
 steady march to world-wide dominion. It is needless, then, 
 to combat Macaulay^ssertion that "no historian has shown 
 so complete an indifference to truth," though we must 
 smile at Dante's "Livy that erreth not." In his first ten 
 books, especially, Livy set forth all the authentic annal-
 
 182 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 istic truth that presented itself to him, which was very- 
 little, and whatever fond tradition and his own imagination 
 could supply : which was much. 
 
 There is no real disguise as to all this. Thus at the 
 heginning of Book VL he confesses that he has had 
 practically no real data thus far, the few records ever 
 made having perished completely when Rome was sacikeil 
 by the Gauls. Yet many of the most thrilling incidents, 
 dramatic dialogues, elaborate speeches, had already been 
 set down. The destruction of Alba Longa, the murder of 
 Servius Tullius by his daughter, the expulsion of the Tar- 
 quins, the kingly legends generally, are hardly read now 
 as history by anyone. The keeping of the bridge by 
 Horatius against Porsena and Tarquin, the winning of 
 his honored name Scaevola, "the Left-handed," by Mucins, 
 most magnificent of assassins, the terrible justice of Brutus 
 inflicted on his own sons, seem clearly no less poetic in 
 quality : hence their preservation, and their popularity. 
 
 Appius Claudius and his decemvirs are real men. Their 
 date is approximately fixed. Such deeds as Virginius's 
 may occur wherever lawless tyrants are defied by despair- 
 ing fathers and lovers : but many details of Livy's story are 
 as clearly imaginative as a scene of "Lorna Doone." 
 
 Last and grandest in this elder line of. heroes looms 
 Camillus, at the close of Book X. Yet the very outlines 
 of his romantic life are probably fabulous. Tiuit Brennus 
 and his Gauls retired, after the sack, at their leisure, and 
 of their own free-will, is more than probable. Indeed, some 
 details of this Roman career show more effort to please the 
 reader's fancy than to convince him of their truth. Espe- 
 cially diverting is the schoolmaster of Falerii, who treach- 
 erously leads his noble pupils into Camillus's beleaguering 
 camp. The chivalric Roman furnished the lads with rods, 
 and bids them flog tlie pedagogue back to the town. The 
 prompt voluntary surrender of Falerii, as a responsive
 
 ''mkj 
 
 t- .^
 
 LIVY 183 
 
 courtesy, Livy may have found in his original ; bnt the 
 neat sermon to the culprit is true Livian rhetoric and 
 antithesis : 
 
 " Not to a people nor a commander like thyself hast thou 
 come, oh wicked man, with thy wicked offer. Between 
 us and the men of Falerii is no bond formed by human 
 compact : but that which Nature created exists and shall 
 abide. There are laws of war no less than of peace, and 
 these we have been taught to observe with justice as well 
 as valor. We bear no arms against childhood, to which 
 mercy is shown even in captured cities, but against armed 
 men, who, nowise wronged nor assailed by us, attacked the 
 Eoman camp before Veil. Even them, so far as in thee 
 lay, thou hast surpassed by wickedness unheard of. But 
 I will conquer here, as at Veil, by Roman arts alone : by 
 valor, energy, deeds of arms." 
 
 Such assertions of Roman fair play, which we are as- 
 sured is as proverbial as ""^Punic faith," i.e., Carthaginian 
 treachery, will arouse many modern echoes. In truth, the 
 claim grows at times monotonous, like the thrice-repeated 
 self-sacrifice of a Decius Mus , to save a victory prophesied 
 for the host whose commander shall be slain. Livy has at 
 least too much sense of literary balance not to give the 
 other side a hearing. Thus when a Roman army was 
 released, humiliated indeed but unhurt, from the great 
 trap in the Caudine valley, the consul who had made the 
 treaty bade the senate repudiate it. Nay, he returned, 
 without his men, to the fatal pass, declared that his ignoble 
 surrender made him now himself a Samnite, smote the 
 Roman herald, and bade his former people take up this 
 new injury and carry the war to a glorious end. Then the 
 gallant and too chivalric Samnite Pontius cries out in 
 noble scorn : 
 
 " Will you always find a pretext for repudiating the 
 pledges made in defeat ? You gave hostages to Porsena :
 
 184 THE AUGUSTAN" AGE 
 
 and by stealth withdrew them. With gold you redeemed 
 your city from the Gauls : they were cut down in the act 
 of receiving it. You pledged us peace, to regain your 
 legions : that peace you now cancel. Always you cover 
 deception with some fair mask of justice. "" 
 
 Like Virgil when describing Turnus or Camilla, Livy 
 always remembers that Pontius and his brave people were 
 Italians, as he is himself. From the opening words of this 
 ninth book the Samnite chieftain is treated by Livy with 
 somewhat such chastened pride as a modern British his- 
 torian shows in his recollection that Washington was of 
 pure English stock. In the curt epitome of Book XI. we 
 read that thirty years later " C. Pontius, commander of the 
 Samnites, was led in a triumphal procession — and decapi- 
 tated." One would gladly hear Livy's comments on that 
 example of Roman gratitude, which Niebuhr calls the 
 greatest stain on all their annals. 
 
 Often Livy provides the materials for correcting his 
 own too sweeping or prejudiced assertions. Thus, like his 
 people generally, he insists on the " perfidy " of Hannibal. 
 Yet in the long campaigns that fill the third decade we see 
 at least as much chivalric generosity on the Carthaginian's 
 part as is shown by his opjjonents. In truth, the terror 
 and hatred Hannibal inspired could not conceal, even 
 from the Romans, a genius and an intrepid character 
 superior to their own. In such cases it is often gratifying 
 to see how fair-minded Livy is, as it were, in spite of him- 
 self. It was, moreover, imjDossible to tell the tale at all 
 without revealing the wonderful control exercised by Han- 
 nibal's tact and indomitable will over savage men of a 
 hundred hostile clans and races. 
 
 Few men read Livy through with unflagging interest, in 
 Latin or in English. A certain sameness in the general 
 type even of his best episodes grows monotonous at last.
 
 LIVY 185 
 
 But he is a master, perhaps on the whole the master, of easy, 
 rather colloquial Latin prose. As a storj::tdler_ he has at 
 most but one Roman master, the poet Ovid. In moral 
 p urityhe has no superior whatever . If the present chap- 
 ter seems relatively brief, it is because any good history of 
 Rome, on whatever scale, must be largely made up of pas- 
 sages more or less perfectly transferred from Livy's storied 
 page. He is therefore well known to every classical stu- 
 dent, and has always exercised great influence on histori- 
 cal narration. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The only available annotated edition of Livy entire is Weissen- 
 born's, with German notes. The Bohn translation is tolerably ac- 
 curate. Books XXI.-XXV. are excellently rendered by Church and 
 Brodribb in the Macmillan series, uruform with their Tacitus. The 
 authority of Livy as an historian of early Rome was rudely 
 shattered by Niebuhr. Of late Lanciani and others have to some ex- 
 tent returned to acceptance of his statements, even as to the age of 
 the kings.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 HORACE 
 
 Far more than any other Latin poet, indeed, all but 
 alone among Romans, Virgil is the idealist. By chance of 
 birth Horace is his twin-star. There is 
 rather slight bnt adequate evidence of cor- 
 dial friendship between them. It was the dreamer, even, 
 who introduced the poor satirist and lampooner to the 
 greatest of patrons. But of any such real artistic com- 
 munion as Goethe's with Schiller there is no hint : nor 
 could it be readily believed. 
 
 Horace is always wide awake, and has a shrewd eye for 
 his own earthly interests. Reticence, and good taste, he 
 learned, rather late in life, with the help of lu.xnrions 
 patronage. But all his work is done in cool blood. He 
 deprecates enthusiasm, and laughs at his own brief flights. 
 He holds, and will retain, a broad and goodly estate, but 
 not in Arcadia. It has no lofty heights like the Prome- 
 thean cliff, nor yawning caverns of mystery like the Virgil- 
 ian under-world. So far is he from being dramatic, that 
 we can hardly cite one well-told story in all he has left us. 
 His own life, within and without, lies fully revealed before 
 us, delineated with a frank self-satisfaction that makes 
 him the little friend and neighbor of all sensible, practical 
 mankind. 
 
 Horace remains still, as he has been for most of these 
 nineteen centuries, the most quotable and quoted of au- 
 thors. That is, his sententious phrases are the small 
 cliange, the current coin, of worldly wit, of courtly com- 
 
 186
 
 HORACE 187 
 
 pliment, of universal experience. Even when carven in 
 unforgettable form, they are commonplaces still. Hence 
 they blend perfectly into the style of any modern satirist 
 whose mellow wisdom we enjoy. We should miss the al- 
 lusion to Black Care, as she sits behind the hurrying 
 horseman, from many a chapter of Thackeray : yet it is, 
 after all, as much a truism as the Arab's figure of death: 
 " the black camel that kneels at every man's gate." 
 
 Most of Horace's work is best read, and cited, in bits, as 
 the spice, not the real bread, of life. Perused in the mass 
 it gives us an ever-growing and painful sense of spiritual 
 limitation, of life's narrow and narrowing round, in fact, 
 of half-confessed ennui. At least, a Platonist, an idealist, 
 who attempts to discuss Horace at all, must confess thus 
 frankly his own friendly hostility, if only to guard the 
 hearer against the imperfect sympathy, doubtless the un- 
 fairness, of the critic. 
 
 In contrast with the meteoric passing of Lucretius, 
 Horace's life-story is singularly complete and intelligible, 
 with just enough romantic adventure, and early hardship, 
 to have given him a wide view of the world. 
 
 Quintus Horatius Flaccus was born in rustic Venusia. 
 Of his mother we hear nothing. His father was a former 
 slave, later a enactor — collector of taxes or of private debts 
 — and evidently thrifty. Horace never tried to conceal his 
 humble origin, and in the fourth Satire of his first book he 
 introduces this slave-born father in a lively dialogue, form- 
 ing by practical advice and exemplary warnings the all but 
 perfect character of his boy. 
 
 In Rome that boy, under his father's eye, went to school 
 in luxury and well-attended. His master indeed, the " flog- 
 Satires, i.,6. g^r Orbilius," won Horace's hearty ill-will, 
 Epist.,ii.. 1,70. r^Y^^ ^^ undesirable immortality of fame. 
 His strenuous methods were doubtless one cause, also, of 
 Horace's lasting dislike for Andronicus's Odyssey, Ennius's
 
 188 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 epic, and the early writers generally, who offended his 
 polished taste as Chaucer or Marlowe did Pope's. 
 
 For philosophy, or as we would say, university advant- 
 ages, Horace, still like a young nobleman, went to Athens. 
 This experience was interrupted by the civil war that fol- 
 lowed Julius's murder. Brutus must have seen remark- 
 able promise in the freedman's son at twenty-two, when he 
 
 3 c. made him a tribune, or we may say, a colo- 
 
 sat., I., 6, so. i^gi_ Ti^e jealousy excited in fellow-students 
 of far loftier birth Horace merely mentions as natural. 
 He is proud of his success. 
 
 " Here at home, as in war, to the foramost 
 Epi8t.,i..ao,23- T 1 • i» 
 
 men was I pleasing." 
 
 This Eastern campaigning does not seem to have been 
 wholly arduous. Thus in one of the odes, written for an 
 old comrade, it is recalled how 
 
 " Often we sped the lingering day 
 Witli wine unmixt, the while we lay 
 Our shining locks with Syrian spikenard crowned." 
 
 Another bit of local color is seen in a rather disconsolate 
 letter to a friend travelling in Asia : 
 
 ' ' Lebedos is it you praise, who are weary of voyage or travel ? 
 Yea, and I too there would happily linger, forgetting 
 All that I loved, expecting them all in turn to forget me : 
 There would I dwell, and gaze offshore at the furious waters. " 
 
 Of course, utter failure and shipwreck of fortune came 
 swiftly to Brutus's followers. Horace's brief military dis- 
 tinction made surer his utter fall. Drifting back to Rome, 
 he found his father dead, his estates confiscated. For some 
 years he gained a scant subsistence in a position apparent- 
 ly like our government clerkships at Washington. The
 
 HORACE 189 
 
 splendor of the world's capital constantly emphasized to 
 tlie young veteran his own obscurity. 
 
 We know little in detail of the next four or five years, 
 until the friendship of Virgil and Maecenas lifted Horace 
 to affluence and congenial social life. The cheerful bits of 
 autobiography cited above were all actually composed years 
 later, in self-contented retrospect. But his writing in this 
 time of storm and stress, though it was successful in at- 
 tracting the attention of the court, is stained with truly 
 Koman vulgarity, and is often bitterly cynical. 
 
 SATIRES, I. 
 
 The oldest extant composition is by many thought to be 
 
 the satire describing a quarrel in camp between two of Bru- 
 
 tus's followers, one of whom is named Rupilius 
 
 Rex, or King. When the final decision is 
 
 referred to the commander, the other litigant closes his 
 
 plea, and the brief sketch also, with the bold words : 
 
 "By the gods on high I beseech you, O Brutus, 
 Slay this King, since that, as I think, is the task of your 
 kindred. " 
 
 This first group of ten satirical pieces was not made up 
 earlier than 35 B.C. Just before the one here cited stands 
 in our collection the journal of the famous journey to 
 Brundisium with Msecenas. So we must hold the pros- 
 perous court-poet at thirty year responsible for the un- 
 translatable foulness of the second Satire, which draws all 
 too clearly on abundant and ignoble experience. It is 
 plain, also, that loose living and deliberate coarseness of 
 speech were no bar to Maecenas's favor. Yet Virgil in the 
 same group maintained his stainless purity of life and ut- 
 terance.
 
 190 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 The meeting with Virgil and Maecenas en route to 
 Brundisium is marked with sincere and truly Latin em- 
 satircB, 1., v., braces. Next day, at Capua, Maecenas plays 
 43. ball, but the poets prefer their siesta, Horace 
 
 excusing himself as weak-eyed, Virgil as dyspeptic. The 
 sketch of this journey is as a whole delightful — except four 
 really incredible lines. 
 
 AVith this first collection of his lay sermons on human 
 frailties and follies Horace's claim on the cordial approval of 
 the modern reader begins. The best descriptions of his 
 earlier life are here to be found. 
 
 Horace did not regard the satires as poetry in the stricter 
 sense at all, but as a sort of chatty, personal sketches in 
 Sat., i., 4, s6- loose metrical form. The hexameter, used in 
 62. them all, is evidently accepted as a familiar 
 
 Latin measure. In these light miscellanies, the age, the 
 coarse Eoman taste, permitted almost anything. 
 
 EPODES 
 
 But even these excuses hardly extend to the Epodes, 
 which are severely lyrical in form. If the prevailing 
 iambic measure, and the influence from the savage genius of 
 the Greek Archilochos, seem to justify bitterness, it must 
 be remembered that both master and metre are Horace's de- 
 liberate choice. These seventeen little poems are his entire 
 lyric output down to the year 31 B.C. They are in many 
 keys, the latest apparently nearing that of the happy later 
 lyrics. The extravagant assaults on the sorceress Canidia, 
 whoever she was, can hardly be justified. Other examples 
 there are of personal ill-will, and also of crudeness, even 
 „ , . the graver artistic sin of diffuseness. The 
 
 Epodes, xvi., *= , . i. •<• •/ 
 
 41-62. longest flight of Horace s creative fancy, if it 
 
 be not rather a translation, is the account of the Happy 
 Isles bevond the Western Ocean. Here he even recalls the
 
 HORACE 191 
 
 prophetic Fourth Bucolic. No less Virgilian and pastoral 
 is the simplest, sweetest, and best-known of all the epodes, 
 beginning 
 
 "Blessed is he, afar from business cares, 
 As were the men of old. " . . . 
 
 But there is a mocking grin like Heine's in the last quat- 
 rain, wherein it is all put into the mouth of the old usurer 
 Alfius, who, ever dreaming of a country life, calls in his 
 loans : and after a fortnight places them again. 
 
 A passage of a later poem, revoking certain 'Miasty 
 
 iambics," is by some students made to refer to most or all 
 
 of this book. But that is hardly probable. 
 
 Odes, I., i6, 1-4. . •' ^ 
 
 The name " Epodes " is not Horatian, and 
 seems to indicate merely the use of a shorter alternate line 
 in each cou2:>let. As a whole this roll is Horace's least ef- 
 fective utterance. 
 
 SAHEES, II. 
 
 Soon after the Epodes appeared the second book of 
 Satires. The measure is still the easy jogging hexameter. 
 Abundant evidence appears of swift growth 
 in these years. There is even a sustained 
 attempt here at dramatic form, though all who speak, like 
 the characters at Dr. Holmes's breakfast table, are but so 
 many mouthpieces for the one familiar, equable, and wel- 
 come voice. 
 
 Horace is sweetened, mellowed, not spoiled, by pros- 
 perity. Though he is frankly proud of Maecenas's friend- 
 ship, he will not confess that he shares the power, nor 
 even the political confidence, of the court. He preaches 
 simple diet, even a rustic life, yet gives also a connois- 
 seur's hints on the perfect banquet. His heartiest utter- 
 ance is of his love for the Sabine farm, Maecenas's most
 
 192 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 precious gift. The country mouse has much the better of 
 the argument over his city kinsman. Yet Horace's slave 
 Davus is allowed to ridicule his master for the restless- 
 ness with which he awaits, the furious haste with which 
 he accepts, Maecenas's bidding to the feast. On the whole 
 we get the impression that our portly little bachelor is a 
 good liver and a courtier, in practice, far more than a 
 country gentleman, a student, or an abstemious philos- 
 opher. 
 
 One of Eugene Field's bold *' Echoes" seems to hit very 
 near the truth : 
 
 " When favoring gales bring in my ships 
 
 I hie to Rome and live in clover ; 
 Elsewise I steer my skiff out here 
 
 And anchor till the storm blows over. 
 Compulsory virtue is the charm 
 Of life upon the Sabine Farm 1 " 
 
 Horace's mildly satirical, loosely artistic utterance had 
 already outlasted its bitterness and its foulness. But the 
 half-way house of life is past. Of strenuous effort, of fresh 
 aspiration, there is hardly a hint. One certainly would not 
 suppose, that a supremely successful venture, in an essen- 
 tially new field, was just beginning. Yet so it proved. 
 
 ODES, I.-III. 
 
 Books I., II., and III. of Horace's odes form a single 
 collection of eighty-eight lyric poems, issued by the author, 
 and probably arranged by him just as we find it. The 
 opening dedication to *' Maecenas, from ancestral kings 
 descended," the yet prouder closing assertion 
 
 " Completed is my monument, 
 More durable than bronze, " 
 
 the parade in the first dozen odes of nearly as many novel
 
 HORACE 193 
 
 and difficult Greek metres, — all this indicates the fullest 
 pride and confidence in the finished work. Especially not- 
 able also is the stanza opening the third book, whose first 
 six poems seem to unite in one stately patriotic ode : 
 
 "Songs until now unsung, 
 Fit for the ears of boys or virgin girls, 
 I sing, who am the Muses' priest. " 
 
 These poems appear to have been Horace's serious task 
 for at least seven years, beginning, to judge from all trace- 
 able historical allusions, when he was already thirty-five. 
 This is our chief, best-known, most faultless book of Latin 
 or indeed of classic lyrics, — using the word in the nar- 
 rower sense, which excludes the larger choral songs of Pin- 
 dar or of the Attic dramatists. It must seem strange to 
 many, that classical scholars accept this fair-wrought artis- 
 tic gift in a half-querulous spirit. Yet this is inevitable, 
 and can be in some sense justified. 
 
 Lyric, Song, as an individual expression, uttered in 
 
 music and words, is all but universal, and as old as love, 
 
 hate, grief, warlike enthusiasm, adoration, or the sense of 
 
 sin among men. It doubtless had less root 
 
 Cf. supra, p. 4 . . 
 
 m early Latium than ni most lands. Perhaps 
 the priestly chant was there almost its sole permanent 
 form. But to Horace's ears, as to Catullus's, far clearer 
 and fuller than to ours, came the manifold echoes of the 
 older, more spontaneous, and yet living Hellenic min- 
 strelsy. 
 
 Of Greek song-writers proper, four only are familiar 
 names : the fierce soldier of fortune and creative genius 
 Archilochos, the artist-pair — perhaps also lover-pair — of 
 Lesbos, and the somewhat degenerate later singer of wine 
 and passion, Anacreon. Each was a true artist, yet all ut- 
 tered real feelings in forms fit and natural to their speech, 
 largely original with themselves. They never deal in lit-
 
 194 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 erary reminiscence, bnt offer ns their own inner or outer 
 visions. 
 
 All are essentially lost poets. Even the " Anacreon- 
 tics/* so popular with our grandsires in Moore's para- 
 phrases, are themselves merely clever imitations in An- 
 acreon's general tone, dating from the later centuries of 
 Hellenic life. Sappho's love-lyric lias left an irreparable 
 gap in the story of literature. 
 
 Horace presents himself frankly as an imitator of these 
 greater Greek singers. His Epodes were Archilochian in 
 metre and spirit. Now, putting Catullus's scliool too has- 
 tily aside, he makes bold claim that he is the first 
 
 Odes, HI., XXX., " -^olic song to m^odulate 
 
 '3-'4. * ' To the Italian lyre." 
 
 His favorite measures are the Sapphic and Alcaic stan- 
 zas, both used by him with a rigid regularity of form 
 unknown to the Lesbians themselves, or to Catullus. 
 
 Horace no doubt felt the superiority of the Greeks. In 
 their language he had himself composed his first verses. 
 These metres are, in Latin, so difficult that they bar out 
 many words of a poetic vocabulary at best scanty, and 
 they have actually never been used by anyone, with high 
 success, since Horace's day. His own hearty distaste for 
 the exertion of versifying is often expressed in more or less 
 serious tone. With painful industry, like the bee, he 
 Odes, iv., ii., " fashious liis toilsome lays." Among his 
 3'-*- actual models must be included the learned 
 
 Alexandrians, with their love for far-sought allusions and 
 myths all but forgotten. Nearly all Horace's odes, then, 
 are conscious and laborious imitations ; many, it is not 
 known how many, are free translations. His masters are 
 bitterly missed. 
 
 His range is far narrower than theirs. He recognizes
 
 HORACE 195 
 
 hatred of tyrants as the most popular note of Alcaios's 
 lyre : but that note, of course, he cannot strike. In some 
 Greek lyrics, as Alcman's, yet more in the choral songs of 
 Aristophanes and Euripides, there is a real, a rapturous 
 delight in natural scenery, Horace is fully at home only 
 among men. Sappho, again, even in tantalizing half-lines 
 and phrases, yet survives, as the very soul and voice of 
 passionate love. Though Horace has celebrated his fickle 
 flame under a dozen musical Greek names, not one can 
 have inspired a deep and lasting feeling. Prattling Lalage, 
 Neaera of the tangled liair, and all the rest, have just 
 enough reality to help him turn a verse. Friendship, 
 with Maecenas and a few others, is the only close tie Hor- 
 ace knows. The brevity and uncertainty of life, the worry 
 that haunts the palaces of the great, a goading, rest- 
 less discontent, the craving for peace, are ever recurrent 
 themes. Far indeed is this passionless, dreamless, hope 
 less Epicurean from seeing the whole, or the best, of life. 
 
 His art is exquisite, is indeed, as has been said, unique 
 and inimitable in its kind. Of all ingenious exercises in 
 difficult metres these are the cleverest. Often a flash of 
 loftier poetic insight glorifies one of his few and familiar 
 themes, as when he offers sympathy only, not a word of 
 insincere consolation, to Virgil on the death of his friend 
 Varus. Indeed this and the address to the ship that bears 
 Virgil to Greece are as heartfelt and tender as any lyric of 
 friendship could be. The local color is often Italian even 
 when we know that Horace has a Greek original before 
 him, as when, in a close echo of Alcaics, he cries : 
 
 "Soracte's heights are white with snow. 
 The burdened pines are bending low, 
 
 The fettered brooks are still. 
 Heap high the logs, drive out the cold, 
 And from the Sabine vintage old 
 
 A generous goblet fill."
 
 196 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 At times his keen humor beguiles us into a smile, as 
 when liis rash announcement of himself as a heaven-scal- 
 ing swan draws down his own prompt ridicule, and he adds : 
 
 Odes, n., XX. " Even now I feel the change begin! 
 
 Version of o o 
 
 Sir Theodore And see, along my thighs 
 
 It creeps and creeps, the wrinkling skin, 
 
 In sturdy swan-like guise; 
 My body all above assumes 
 
 The bird, and white as snow 
 Along my shoulders airy plumes 
 
 Down to my fingers grow." 
 
 Above all, we note the frank, fearless, yet devoted tone 
 always held toward Mfficenas, the cordial constancy indi- 
 cated even when Augustus's frown had made the old 
 minister's friendship less prized by the selfish or timid. 
 Perhaps the boldest note in the odes is that in which he 
 reproves some such utterance of Maecenas as was mentioned 
 on a previous page, and makes the prophecy 
 "** "' * which was so remarkably fulfilled, some fif- 
 
 teen years later, by the death of both friends in the same 
 year. 
 
 Odes, »., xvll. <' Think not that I have sworn a bootless oath. 
 Sir Theodore 
 nartin. Yes, we shall go, shall go, 
 
 Hand linked in hand, whene'er thou leadest, 
 
 both 
 
 The same sad road below ! " 
 
 This close friendship included also Licinius Murena, the 
 brother, or near kinsman, of Maecenas's wife, much beloved 
 and honored by Augustus, but fatally involved in the con- 
 spiracy against tlie emperor's life in 23 B.C. Horace seems 
 to have realized the danger of Murena's audacious, passion- 
 ate nature, and addresses him in one of the finest odes, 
 bidding him
 
 HORACE 197 
 
 " Not always tempt the far-off deep, 
 Nor yet too timorously creep 
 Along the treacherous shore." 
 
 Most blest, Horace assures him, is 
 
 " He that holds fast the golden mean, 
 And lives contentedly between 
 The lowly and the great. " 
 
 Indeed, the question whether Horace published this collec- 
 tion as early as the spring of 23 B.C., or three, even four, 
 years later, is made to turn largely on this very poem. As 
 Virgil effaced Gallus from the last Georgic, so Horace, we 
 are assured, would not have issued these verses after the 
 fall of Murena. They may, however, have been already 
 too well known to suppress. Many of the " occasionaP* 
 poems must have been circulated singly as they were 
 written. Thus the oldest datable ode, I., 37, rejoicing at 
 the death of Cleopatra, of course did not lie seven years in 
 Horace's desk. But the line 
 
 " Through time un-noted, as a tree doth grow 
 Marcellus's fame" 
 
 would surely have been either expanded, or suppressed 
 Odes, i., xii., altogether, if Augustus's princely heir had 
 45-46. Ijggjj (jgg^(j when this collection was made. 
 
 So we are again brought back to the year 23 B.C. as the 
 latest date. 
 
 EPISTLES, I. 
 
 It was apparently three years thereafter that Horace 
 published the twenty delightful brief pieces in hexameter 
 verse known as the first book of Epistles. Many appear 
 to be genuine letters, such as the hearty invitation to the 
 congenial younger poet Tibullus to come and be beguiled 
 of his melancholy at the Sabine farm. All are witty.
 
 198 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 wise, easy, and mellow. Here Horace is at his best, and 
 sour must he be who could cavil at aught. Though 
 Horace is the first to insist that this is not poetry, it is 
 really often more poetical than the most labored of odes. 
 The philosophic, even the moralizing tone grows to be 
 prevalent, but there is no strenuous preaching. A toler- 
 ant, often a merry critic of life, and also of literature, 
 Horace always remained. Even his ennui is uttered in 
 phrases of pure gold : 
 
 "This one hour, that a god has accorded to you in his 
 
 bounty, 
 Take with a grateful hand, nor plan next year to be happy. 
 So that wherever your life may be spent you will say you 
 
 enjoy it. 
 For if anxieties only by foresight or reason are banished, 
 Not by a spot that affords some outlook wide on the waters. 
 Never our nature, but only the sky do we change as we 
 
 travel. 
 Toilsome idleness wears us out. On wagon or shipboard 
 Comfort it is that we ci-ave. Yet that which you seek 
 
 is within you, 
 Even at Ulubrse : — if you but lack not a spirit contented." 
 
 The last of these Epistles includes a naive description 
 of Horace's person, and gives the impression that he would 
 now gladly lay the pen aside. Though he had dared re- 
 fuse the invidious or irksome honor of being Augustus's 
 private secretary, there were more imperative calls that he 
 could not ignore. The celebration of the great Saecular 
 epoch in 17 B.C., and other courtly occasions, drew the 
 philosophic moralist back, with some evident reluctanc*^;, 
 to the more laborious lyric forms. The hymn sung by 
 youths and maids on the proud anniversary day is melodi- 
 ous, graceful, orthodox.
 
 HORACE 199 
 
 ODES, IV. 
 
 With the addition of some early pieces, also, sufficient 
 
 material was accumulated for a fourth book of odes, issued 
 
 at Augustus's desire about 13 B.C. It does not increase, 
 
 nor detract from, Horace's assured fame. The poem on 
 
 Augustus's soldierly stepson Drusus is per- 
 
 es, v., 4. iiaps the most martial and Eoman of all 
 
 Horatian strains. 
 
 EPISTLES, II. 
 
 The second book of ''Epistles" contains two essays only, 
 both chiefly dealing, in rather whimsical and desultory 
 fashion, with literary questions. The first is inscribed to 
 Augustus, and complains that the oldest Eoman poetry 
 only is popular. The idyllic passage on the origin of 
 
 Fescennine comedy has been cited already. 
 
 Horace felt that Plautus performed his mer- 
 cenary tasks carelessly and roughly, that Andronicus, 
 Nffivius, even Ennius, were rude; in fact, that true taste 
 was a very recent acquisition from Hellas. Even among 
 Greeks he considers authorship an art fit only for a 
 decadent age. He declares himself unfitted for drama or 
 epic, to which latter task Augustus had evidently urged 
 him. His chief claim for literature is its didactic and 
 patriotic value. There are flashes of deeper feeling, like : 
 
 "Childhood's tender and stammering voice by the poet is 
 
 guided." 
 
 A still clearer allusion to such poems of his own as the 
 '' Carmen Saeculare" may be heard in these lines: 
 
 " Whence would innocent youths, or maids unconscious of 
 wedlock, 
 Learn their prayer, if the Muse had not accorded a poet ? "
 
 200 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 The second epistle is somewhat briefer, but exceeds two 
 hundred verses. The key is more distinctly querulous. 
 The tone of advanced age would be absurd, if we did not 
 know that Horace^'s life was really almost spent. 
 
 " One by one do the passing years wrest from us our pleasures, 
 Jestuif?, and love, the delights of the banquet, and games 
 
 they have stolen, 
 Poetry too they clutch at. " 
 
 The city, with its daylong, nightlong uproar, is described in 
 lurid tints : 
 
 " Yonder a mad dog runs, here tumbles a sow in her wal- 
 low." 
 
 In a really bitter passage Horace alludes to the public 
 "authors^ readings.^' He has to hear and praise the weari- 
 some verses of " Callimachus " — who is pretty clearly the 
 uncongenial and assertive Proj^ertius — while he himself 
 in turn is praised and dubbed " Alca^us." 
 
 It is in this connection that we should consider an essay 
 of Horace, actually printed by some editors as the third 
 epistle of the second book, but forced into undue promi- 
 nence, even given in some later ages a sort of oracular 
 authority, as the Augustan utterance, *'De Arte Poetica^': 
 On the Art of Poetry. 
 
 This too claims to be merely a letter, in 476 colloquial 
 hexameters, addressed to a pair of young friends ambitious 
 of poetic fame. In length, then, it is slightly less 
 than the two previous epistles combined. The tone is 
 somewhat more strenuous, but on the whole colloquial, 
 desultory, still. When he ventures even to give advice on 
 the style of tragedy, it is but advice, given by one who 
 himself wisely abstained, on the popular Roman diversion 
 of recasting in Latin the outworn myths of early Hellas.
 
 HOEACE 201 
 
 The chief virtue, for this critic, is propriety, good taste, 
 moderation, the avoidance of bold contrasts. In fact, these 
 are the maxims of an age like Pope's and Addison's, 
 when the imagination languishes, and elaboration, form, 
 style, seem more weighty than subject-matter. Most fa- 
 miliar of all is the warning against the "purple patch." 
 It would have persuaded Shakesj)eare to cancel Jacques's 
 ** Seven Ages of Man," or Hamlet's soliloquy. Horace de- 
 tests startling contrasts. He would have joined Voltaire 
 in protesting against the undignified grave-diggers who 
 **mar the pathos of Ophelia's funeral." 
 
 As always, Horace's discourse is full of shrewd observa- 
 tions, of sound common-sense based on abundant experi- 
 ence of life and letters. From time to time, a bold and 
 earnest phrase flashes forth, e.g.: 
 
 " The master-pieces of Hellas, 
 Still with unweary hand unroll, by night or by daylight." 
 
 But in the next verse is the old complaint, that Plautus is 
 too popular. 
 
 In general, this, like all the later work, is well worthy 
 of attentive, even repeated, perusal. Many lines and phrases 
 are current coin among the cultivated. But it is no Aristotle 
 or Aristarchos who speaks. Even their right to speak 
 with authority may be effectively disputed : Horace never 
 makes such a claim. All literary criticism records, rather 
 than guides, the flight of the truly creative imagination: 
 but Horace essays little more than gossip by the wayside. 
 We are glad to note that even his theory of the artist's aim 
 turns mellower again, in this last utterance : 
 
 "Either to give enjoyment or profit the poets are wishful, 
 Or to say that which at once is useful in life, and delightful." 
 
 As we turn away from the two most popular poets of 
 Rome, perhaps of the world, we may repeat, that Horace 
 
 5-'r
 
 202 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 has supplied the fit expression for almost every common 
 thought of earthly men. The dreamer, the mystic, the 
 idealist, of any age, finds no company more congenial than 
 the Sibyl's, as she threads the vague mazes of the spirit 
 world, guiding Virgil to that far-off vale where in un- 
 earthly yet unfading light the past and the remotest 
 future meet, and are to the eye of faith revealed, inter- 
 preted, reconciled. We gladly believe that these two 
 rarely gifted men loved each other. In both we see gleams 
 of the old Koman freedom and manly pride. But they, 
 and Livy, are the last of their generation. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The best student's edition of Horace is Kiessling's with German 
 notes. For lovers of literature Professor Shorey's edition of the 
 Odes and Epodes is indispensable, for the manifold echoes of Horatian 
 phrases, gathered from all later authors down to our day. 
 
 Among English translators Sir Tlieodore Martin is generally reck- 
 oned the happiest, though Conington's freer renderings of the Satires 
 and Epistles are quite as readable. Least successful of the numberless 
 versions are those which would attempt in Englisli the alcaics, sapphics, 
 and yet more hopeless combinations barely attained, by Horace's own 
 painful effort, in a language certainly more melodious, better quanti- 
 fied, more flexible than our Saxon speech. The lighter tones of Horace 
 are sometimes best caught by the audacious and irreverent genius of 
 Eugene Field. In truth, some of his Echoes almost better the originals. 
 Mr. Gladstone found leisure to enter this domain also. 
 
 Sellar, Martin, Mackail, Ribbeck, and numberless others, have made 
 sympathetic studies of Horace's life and genius. Professor Tyrrell has 
 set forth some of his shortcomings, perhaps more boldly than any other 
 recent critic. Miss Preston has a delightful sketch in the Warner Li- 
 brary, and also an essay in an old Atlantic^ on a visit to the Sabine 
 farnx,
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 OVID 
 
 43 B.C.-18 A.D. 
 
 Between Virgil and Ovid there is a moral gulf. It is 
 not, of course, that Rome, or the world, has suddenly 
 
 BC-18AD grown shamelessly vicious. Virgil was a 
 dreamer, almost out of touch with the coarser 
 side of realities. We have heard his note of extravagant 
 though doubtless sincere prophecy, in the Fourth Bucolic 
 and the Sixth ^neid. From clear-sighted Livy comes the 
 prompt answering cry of disgust and despair. Even he 
 declares that the restoration of temples and religious rites 
 was a very prominent feature of the emperor's policy. Yet 
 the deification of Octavian himself must always have been, 
 in aristocratic and enlightened circles, a hollow absurdity. 
 A yet more hopeless task was the revival of old-fashioned 
 morality, and especially of the family ties, by a cold-hearted 
 imperial libertine who had divorced his own wife when 
 his only child Julia was a few days old, and tore Livia from 
 her reluctant husband three months before Drusus's birth. 
 Maecenas's peace of mind as a married man was disturbed 
 by Augustus himself. Neither Virgil nor Horace appears 
 ever to have thought of marriage. 
 
 Among the old aristocracy, generally, compulsory in- 
 action in politics, ever-growing wealth, and Oriental lux- 
 ury, wrought their natural results. The princess Julia, 
 though austerely educated, proved the most dissolute and 
 shameless woman of her day. Under her leadership Rome 
 plunged into every form of brutalizing vice. If we find it 
 
 203
 
 204 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 hard, as well we may, to listen to the baseless optimism of 
 Horace, who in his latest flight of odes assures Augustus 
 that vice is now unknown and crime always meets prompt 
 vengeance, yet it is only fair to remember, that Julia, at 
 least, really concealed her character from her father down 
 to the year 3 B.C. Unless, indeed, his sudden awakening, 
 his decree for her banishment to a lonely isle, his life-long 
 resentment, his refusal even to admit her ashes into his own 
 mausoleum, may require for their explanation the stronger 
 hypothesis that she had been entangled in one of the plots 
 against the emperor's life. 
 
 It is not to be imagined that manly dignity and womanly 
 modesty then, or ever, vanished from the world. In this 
 very century the voice of Paul rings through the Greek 
 cities. There is a growing restlessness in the Germanic 
 lands. 
 
 " Out of the shadow of night 
 The world rolls into light." 
 
 It is merely one corrupt metropolis that is tottering. But 
 in imperial Latin literature little is seen or heard of save 
 Rome itself. So it is not strange if the path leads steadily 
 downward, and the light grows ever dimmer. 
 
 The best age of the Latin people was long since de- 
 parted. Even in the realm of art, technique perfects itself 
 but ideals perish. Already the last poet whom we really 
 desire to portray in full as he actually was, whom we wish 
 our own youth to know entire, has passed by. Ovid, in 
 many respects more skilful than any predecessor, is the 
 eager laureate of Julia's court. His genius, and his im- 
 mense influence ever since, must be duly acknowledged. 
 Yet from this time on, there is upon nearly every literary 
 career a dark shadow, a side of which we shall say as little 
 as we honestly may. These poets we read in expurgated 
 editions, or in mere extracts, for they love to dwell on
 
 OVID 205 
 
 thoughts and subjects which all noble-minded folk avoid 
 or veil in reticence. 
 
 Above all, imperial Eome degrades the name of Love to 
 the level of mere animal passion. For this the scholar, 
 at least, can never claim even the poor excuse, his igno- 
 rance of nobler conceptions. Though no age of chivalry 
 had yet taught the Mediterranean world to idealize and 
 deify woman, yet Antigone, Alkestis, and their peers, 
 thronged the stage of heroic drama. The Iliad, above all, 
 was never forgotten : indeed one of the best interpreta- 
 Horace, Epist., ^^o^s of its ethical meaning is offered by 
 '•• '• Horace : and in all that procession of stately 
 
 figures not one shines clearer than Hector and Andromache 
 with their baby boy. No more perfect picture of pure 
 love as the incentive to a generous heroic life has ever yet 
 been drawn. Few men of any age have known their 
 Homer better than did Ovid. 
 
 Publius Ovidius Naso was born at Sulnifi^rom parents 
 of knightly rank, and naturally was sent to the schools of 
 rhetoric. He travelled early, and with profit, in Greece, 
 Asia, and Sicily. Utterance in verse was second nature to 
 him from boyhood. His career in public office was cut 
 short by his success as a poet. Popularity he seems to 
 have won promptly. After two brief marital experiences, 
 both ended by divorce, he lived long happily with a third 
 wife. We need not, any more in his case than in Horace's, 
 mterpret every poetical love-affair as an actual experience : 
 but he shows only too perfect acquaintance with life's baser 
 sides. 
 
 Of the three well-defined periods in Ovid's career, the . \ 
 
 first is almost wholly taken uj) with erotic verse. It re- - ' ,/ 
 veals the artificial, unlyrical spirit of the time, that such 
 a master of rhythm feels himself limited by his themes to 
 the elegiac co uplet, since he will not essay an epic subject
 
 206 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 in pure hexamotor. This recalls the tyranny of English 
 rhymed pentameter from Dryden to Johnson. 
 
 AMORES 
 
 The forty-eight poems thus entitled are nearly all true 
 to the name. In its present form the collection appeared 
 about 13 B.C. The poet congratulates the reader on having 
 but three books in this edition, though in earlier youth he 
 had published five. Certainly nothing has been suppressed 
 for the sake of modest reticence. Many are purely imag- 
 inative studies. It need not be supposed, for instance, that 
 Ovid had really beaten a lady, and pulled 
 
 Amores, I., 7. . . . tt- i -i 
 
 out her hair. Violence and remorse are 
 simply among the stock themes to be treated. Here his 
 neatest classical allusion is to Diomedes, wounding Aphro- 
 dite in Homeric battle : 
 
 "He is the first that a goddess has smitten : and I am the 
 other ! " 
 
 For some of the coarsest pieces in the collection we chance 
 to have lighter Greek originals. 
 
 Even his famous Corinna is hardly a real person. The 
 elegy on her dead parrot is harmlessly playful, but lacks 
 the fire and_ tenderness of Catullus's verses on Lesbia's 
 sparrow. Indeed, there is a striking want of earnest 
 feeTmg in all these twelve hundred rather monotonous 
 couplets. 
 
 Once, however, even here, the measure finds noble use-, 
 
 when young Tib ullus , himself a poet of passion, is mourned 
 
 for in lofty and scholarly yet sincere verses, 
 
 Amores, III., 9. ^ ., . ,-, ^ ,, . . ., 
 
 Ovid IS even aware that this is the proper 
 function of the ele giac rhy thm. 
 
 " If once Memnon a mother lamented, a mother Achilles, 
 If men's piteous fates trouble the goddesses' hearts,
 
 OVID 207 
 
 Rend thine innocent locks, oh Elegy, rend them in sorrow. 
 Now this name shall abide, only too truly, for thee ! " 
 
 This is probably the only piece in the entire collection 
 of real and lasting interest. A very lively and harmless 
 glimpse at the public entertainments, and the sparkling, 
 shallow wit of the time is offered in the '* Flirtation at the 
 CircnSi" which could be translated truthfully without 
 grave offence. 
 
 DE AKTE AMATORIA, ETC. 
 
 Much later, in three books of nearly eight hundred verses 
 each, Ovid treated, i n mock -didactic fashion, the Art of 
 Love. The last of these three rolls evenessays to teach the 
 other sex how to charm. There is naturally no lack of 
 Greek mythological illustration, easily dragged down to 
 this level, and a favorite founders' legend of Rome is 
 also freely handled. Cleverness, a keen eye for each 
 human frailty, is everywhere to be noted, as when the Sa- 
 bine maids, we are told, 
 
 " Come to look on at the games, — and come, no less, to be 
 looked at. " 
 
 But the science he teaches is simply that of making love to 
 your friend's, wife successfully and without detection. He 
 denies, in his later days, that he had himself ever disturbed 
 family happiness. So much the completer is the degrada- 
 tion of his art. Yet even so grave a critic as Professor 
 Sellar is disposed to regard this as Ovid's masterpiece, and 
 compares it, not unfitly, to Don Juan. The author has 
 " come to forty year " no sager than of old. 
 
 The " Remedia Amoris" may be considered a mere sup- 
 plement, making a long fourth book. The " Medicamina 
 Faciei Fcemineae," on the care of the feminine complexion, 
 is a fragment of exactly a hundred lines. This may be the
 
 208 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 first of the imitations of Ovid, which were frequent down 
 to modern times. 
 
 As to the poems thi;s far discussed, the most surprising 
 quality is their cheerfulness. Empty, ignoble, selfish, as 
 is the social life therein depicted, it has not apparently lost 
 its charm. The consciousness of sin seems as entirely ab- 
 sent as in a comedy of Congreve. There is little trace 
 even of the erimii which Horace cannot conceal. Perhaps 
 this very complacency has always made Ovid's immoral 
 works peculiarly popular — and harmful. 
 
 HEROIDES 
 
 The series of imaginary letters from love-l orn heroines 
 has_tliisjiappy distinction, that we are safely escaped from 
 Augustan realism into the realm of remoter artistic imagi- 
 nation. Indeed, here extreme coarseness is the exception. 
 The sustained study of passionate feeling, and its graceful 
 expression, must be pronounced well worthy of attention 
 from the mature and thoughtful. 
 
 Ovid shows thorough familiarity, already, with the whole 
 world of early myth, from Homer down. Indeed, although 
 he naturally finds Andromache a less congenial character, 
 yet Briseis, Helen, even the prudent Penelope, are included. 
 (Enone, the fickle prince's earlier flame, loved before he 
 knew himself a king's son, also indites an epistle to Paris. 
 That writing was unknown in the Homeric age is, no 
 doubt, too pedantic a criticism. 
 
 In such tales as that of Hero and Leander, Ovid's unique 
 powers in narrative and graphic description stand fully re- 
 vealed. InHyperniestra^ who of Danaos's fifty daughters 
 alone refuses to slay her bridegroom, we have, even, noble 
 traits and thoughts. Indeed Ovid, whose nature is alway s 
 kindly, really seems to show in some of these studies tender- 
 ness, and deep insight into the feminine heart. Oftener, 
 however, we listen to a mere ingenious rhetorician : or
 
 OVID 209 
 
 again, while Helen toys with Paris's advances, we realize 
 that Ovid, under these classic names, paints exactly the 
 conditions about him in Rome. ^/ 
 
 In Dido's letter to -^neas our poet brings himseU^into 
 close and dangerous rivalry with the Fourth ^n^id, yet 
 deserves a careful hearing. The epistle of Medea may re- 
 mind us, again, that Ovid had already in early youth com- 
 pleted a Latin tragedy on this familiar subject. It is often 
 referred to as a masterpiece, though perhaps never played, 
 the Roman stage having now reached its lowest degradation 
 in the Pantomime, a form of silent acting, sometimes ac- 
 companied by recitation or song from behind the scenes. 
 _Two colorless lines of this tragedy alone survive. The letter 
 of MedeaTTo Jason may utilize the same motives as did the 
 play. It covers exactly the same ground as the opening 
 of Euripides's tragedy, reminding Jason of past favors and 
 present wrongs, and foreshadowing the terrible revenge 
 which Medea is to visit on his young Greek wife and her 
 own children by him. 
 
 The letter of Sappho to her lover Phaon hardly comes 
 under the title, ''Heroides,'' and is probably not to be 
 charged to Ovid. Indeed, many of these epistles, especially 
 the responses, are believed to be by another hand. The 
 entire collection is swelled to nearly four thousand lines. 
 The very mass is not without significance. This first 
 section, thus far described, of Ovid's facile product is nearly 
 equal to the whole -^neid in length. 
 
 But it is time to turn to the second and most valuable 
 division of his life-work. The Heroides have already fore- 
 shadowed the Metamorphoses. 
 
 METAMOKPHOSES 
 
 It is a strange caprice of fortune that makes the frivolous 
 versifier of the Amores a chief, perhaps thejchief authority 
 for Hftljftrn fl jn v thi'iu. We cannot in most caseseven'name
 
 210 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 with confidence his Greek originals, though Parthenios, al- 
 ready mentioned as a member of Catullns's group, had also 
 composed *' Metamorphoseis." We cannot suppose that 
 Ovid had the least trace of living faith in the marvels he 
 describes. These transformations have their root chiefly in 
 the notion of metempsychosis, involving of course a belief, 
 such as Ovid hardly pretended to hold, in the continued 
 existence of the soul. Even the account of the divine be- 
 ings, and of their abodes along the Milky Way, is imagina- 
 tive, vivid, but by no means reverent. Indeed, Ovid's gods 
 behave and talk decidedly worse than Homer's, who in turn 
 are notably inferior in ethical quality to the human charac- 
 ters of the epics. Even Homer seems in this matter cynical 
 rather than naive. Certainly when an Augustan poet 
 frankly draws the homes, the intrigues, the characters of 
 the gods on contemporary Roman models, the audacity and 
 irreverence are unquestionable. It is evident, that the clev- 
 erest of Latin versifiers and story-tellers simply hit upon 
 this large and, on the whole, congenial theme, and con- 
 centrated upon it unexpected energy, sufficient art and 
 learning, but no serious belief or purpose. 
 
 Beginning with the moulding of the world from Chaos 
 into Cosmos, and ending with the change of Julius Caesar's 
 human nature into a constellation, there were few marvels 
 of myth or authentic history which Ovid's ingenuity could 
 not bring within his rubric. His own interest, his delight 
 in the task, never seems to flag. Indeed, this freshness, 
 even happiness, of Ovid often disarms our criticism. His 
 inventive genius, the variety of his incidents and scenery, 
 is unending. There is probably no writer who by deft, 
 close-woven detail in description could have made so cred- 
 ible, or at least conceivable, and even pathetic, an incident 
 netamorphoses, ^J^c the transformation of Dryope into a tree. 
 •x-. 334-94- The same marvel recurs several times in other 
 fables, yet there is no repetition of the touches. Of more
 
 OVID 211 
 
 fhan two hundred myths, each set forth in graphic com- 
 pleteness, every one is clearly told, and more or less inter- 
 esting in itself. 
 
 The capital weakness of the work, however, hasjast been 
 indicated. It has no inner unity. Many myths are indeed 
 cleverly interlinked, sometimes with slight alterations to 
 that very end. Often a nominal connection is devised, as, 
 when Arachne vies with Pallas in the weaving of tapestry, 
 the pictures therein Avrought and described are episodic 
 tales in themselves. Often, however, we have simply a 
 series of narratives told in turn on some special occasion, 
 as the Arabic stories are centred merely in the fate of 
 Scheherazade. In truth, the very ingenuity with which 
 Ovid forbids his own thread ever to break off grows in it- 
 self wearisome, andwealways prefer to read him piecemeal. 
 
 That the poet creates a new world, or reshapes for us 
 oar familiar universe, cannot be truly said of Ovid, as it 
 was of Lucretius, from whose larger and really far more 
 reverent plan the Metamorphoses borrow much, in their 
 most ambitious passages. At best, we lie but for a dreamy 
 hour under the magician's spell, tracing the graceful out- 
 lined shapes, rich in color, but not after all truly alive, 
 that throng the panels upon the unsubstantial Avails and 
 low ceiling of his summer palace. The arabesques and in- 
 terlinking curves are often ingenious but never essential, 
 the pictures are seldom if ever wholly his creation, not 
 rarely they remind us dangerously of nobler originals : for 
 even Euripides the realist is far loftier, homely Hesiod 
 more sincere. At times, too, our eyes still captive in the 
 meshes of the endlessly interwoven pattern, we long for the 
 soaring sky, for the free strong winds of Nature herself. 
 
 So Ovid's confident closing prophecy is indeed fulfilled, 
 and more : for no longer 
 
 "The might of Rome o'erawes the subject earth," 
 while he himself shall yet
 
 212 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 " Survive familiar on the lips of men: " 
 but even as the author of these twelve thousand flowins: 
 hexameters he stands upon no pedestal of honor, nor is he 
 enshrined in our loving thoughts as is Catullus or Sappho. 
 We take from his hand many a gift, almost always regret- 
 ting that it is passed on to us by him alone. 
 
 Yet the Phaethon episode could hardly have had, else- 
 where, a more splendid setting, a more absorbing interest, 
 than it hero receives. Sometimes, above all in Baucis and 
 Philemon, the reckless humor, the unwearying ingenuity 
 of Ovid are at their best, while the tale itself cannot fail to 
 supply the pathetic interest, the nobler meaning, which he 
 certainly never added. In the case of Pyramusaud Tliisbe 
 the greatest of masters in comedy as in tragedy has so con- 
 vulsed us with mirth that the Latin rendering seems, by 
 contrast, sadly and soberly true. Ovid was doubtless here 
 Shakespeare's informant. 
 
 FASTI 
 
 Of the remaining works the account must be much 
 briefer. The Fasti is a subject to which not all Ovid's 
 ingenuity could give even the shadow of unity. It is a 
 versified calendar, made with rather inadequate astro- 
 nomical learning. Each historic anniversary is duly cele- 
 brated. The symbolic ritual of every feast is explained as 
 well as may be by traditional Tegencl or inventive myth. 
 In general we have a year-book for loyal and pious llo- 
 mans. 
 
 This work ranks almost with Livy's or Varro's as a 
 quarry of archaologic lore, but only single episodes can 
 claim a wider human interest. Only six books of the 
 twelve survive, the first one in a revised form evidently 
 undertaken in exile. 
 
 For into this self-satisfied, prosperous life came, after 
 Ovid's fiftieth year, the dignity of a real, a great calam-
 
 OVID 213 
 
 ity. By the emperor's decree he was suddenly banished to 
 the town of Tomi, on the cold and desolate northern 
 shores of the Black Sea. One cause for this punishment 
 was the '' De Arte Amatoria/' though published nine years 7 ^ 
 before, — just about the time of Julia's banishment. The 
 other reason, also indicated by Ovid himself, was his guilty 
 knowledge of some great court scandal. As the younger 
 Julia, Augustus's granddaughter, had followed in her 
 mother's wayward steps, and in this very year also went 
 perforce into life-long seclusion, it seems natural to sur- 
 mise that the two departures were in some way connected. 
 The extravagant notion that Ovid was himself a lover of 
 either Julia, and even celebrated her imperial charms 
 under the veil of " Corinna," is long since abandoned. 
 
 From the forlorn exile came, at least, utterances of sin- 
 cere and deep feeling in the elegies known as " Tri stia,'^ 
 and some vivid descriptions of'the land of ice and forests m 
 the Epistnlasex ^^Ponto," still in the same familiar couplet. 
 Even bitter words against enemies in Rome now escape Jh/ t 
 his pen. Ovid's property was not confiscated ; he was 
 not in actual confinement : but neither Augustus himself 
 nor the colder-hearted Tiberius ever recalled the homesick 
 exile, who died at Tomi, when about sixty years old. 
 
 One is inclined, on turning away from this forlorn Cri- 
 mean grave, to utter a word of gentler judgment. Ovid 
 was never self-conscious, never jealous, never cruel. He 
 was a loyal devotee of his art, and grudged no study, no 
 pains, in perfecting himself. In his favorite.,^,u£let all 
 who have followed him are but inferior imitators of his 
 rhythm. To his encyclopaedic knowledge and facile ^en 
 we are indebted for scores of our favorite Greek tales. If 
 he never raised his myth to a loftier meaning, he at least 
 gives it many a deft minor touch in the telling. While as 
 an artist he deserves, on the whole, our gratitude, his lack 
 of moral sense is almost common to his entire generation.
 
 214 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 In the painters and sculptors of tlie Renaissance, in 
 poets so diverse as Dante, Milton, William Morris, Tenny- 
 son, Browning, and countless others, the influence of Ovid 
 can be unmistakably traced. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The chief source for the story of Ovid's life is Ids a utobiograp hical 
 poem, Tristia, iy„ 10, 1-132. 
 
 The Metamorphoses must be read diligently in English, if not in 
 Latin. Indeed, it may yet be accepted as the best basis for connected 
 literary study of Greek mythology itself. The translation in blank 
 verse by Henry King is quite faithful, and not ungraceful, though 
 hardly the work of a poet. William Morris might well have essayedthis 
 task rather than the iEneid. The Bohn volumes have many useful 
 references to other classical authors. 
 
 School readers use chiefly episodes from the Metamorphoses, with 
 some bits of tlie Fasti and Tristia, perliaps from the Heroides one or 
 two such letters as Penelope's. Scholars need no information as to 
 such special editions as the Metamorphoses by Zingerle, Fasti by 
 Peter or Paley, Tristia by Owen, etc. Ribbeck in his " Romische 
 Dichtung" gives a very detailed and sympathetic study of all Ovid's 
 works.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE ELEGIAC POETS 
 
 The oldest metre of the classical poets, the hexameter, 
 never lost its position of honor. Especially, e^iic, in Latin 
 as in Greek, as we shall see, long upheld the form brought 
 over by Ennius from Homer. The first Greek stanza was 
 a couplet, produced by shortening every second verse of 
 the dactylic line, the third and sixth foot being reduced to 
 a single syllable each. The general effect thus attained 
 is a sort of dying fall, contrasting sharply with the exultant 
 bound of the hexameter. 
 
 The most famous early Greek elegiast is Mimnermos, 
 and his is also the first Hellenic utterance of unmanly 
 repining and ignoble love-longing. His exquisite music, 
 skilfully revived in the Alexandrian age, four or five cen- 
 turies later, was also echoed cleverly in Latin by Catullus, 
 who understood its peculiar fitness for a 
 upra, p. 120. (jjj,gg jjg wisely puts nearly all his most 
 
 forceful utterances of hatred or love rather into hendeca- 
 
 syllables and iambics. But Horace's polished Sapphics, 
 
 Alcaics, etc., seem to have discouraged his successors, and 
 
 the lighter lyrical measures are hardly heard again in 
 
 classical Latin. It has been mentioned that 
 
 upra, p. 194 Qyi(j felt himself limited to jnire hexameter 
 
 upra, p. 205 ^^ ^j^^ elegi ac couplet , with a distinct sense of 
 
 greater dignity and seriousness m the former. 
 
 Catullus as well as Ovid, then, must be included, and 
 very prominent, in any complete discussion of Eoman elegy. 
 There is a notable group, however, of Augustan poets who 
 
 215 — ' '
 
 216 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 are so liimted to this measure — as well as to the utterance 
 oT sens ual lo ve, — that they are especially regarded as the 
 eTegjiHirjeiiifiers. One or another of these short careers 
 may appeal with unique force even to the sympatliy of a 
 modern man or woman, but all are clearly minor poets, 
 judged by their limited influence on the literature and 
 thought of later peoples. The measure is a highly artificial 
 one, shutting out many Latin words, requiring often an 
 unnatural order, and always struggling against the ordi- 
 nary prose cadences. Truly popular such verse could never 
 be. The literary forms are diverging more and more from 
 the speech of the people. ■— 
 
 From Catullns's time, and no doubt much earlier, the 
 writing of verse, especially erotic verse, was a very gen- 
 eral accomplishment of the educated : that poetry was a 
 living force in the national life is not so clearly shown. 
 Catullus in his own poems mentions many well-beloved 
 versifiers, of both sexes. Men like Varro, Cicero, Julius 
 Csesar, Augustus, Maecenas, Pollio, so busy and otherwise 
 so diverse, shared in this indulgence, from which, in truth, 
 few men of cultivation and sentiment have ever held 
 wholly aloof. 
 
 The especial group already referred to is indicated in a 
 passage of the Tristia as Callus, Tibullus, Propertiu^, — 
 Tristia, iv., lo, ^ud Ovid h i iiistl f. This number we shall 
 
 53-54. somewhat incicnsi'. We have already met 
 
 the low-born soldier Ga^Hus, tlie lover of " LycoriS;" The 
 latter was an actress — a mimn, — known on the stage as 
 " Cytheris." She had been attached to at least two famous 
 men, Brutus and Ant ony. With the latter she had even 
 shared an open triumphal progress tlirough Italy under 
 the more aristocratic name " Volumnia." We have heard 
 in the Tenth Eclogue Callus's complaint of her fickleness. 
 He devoted his four books of elegies chiefly to her. Be-
 
 THE ELEGIAC POETS 217 
 
 sides original poems he translated Euphorion, the m ost 
 learned, and pedantic in mythic lore, of the Alexandrian 
 school. These diversions all belong to his early youth. 
 
 Gallns won Augustus's favor by bravery in the civil 
 wars, and was made prefect of Egypt after Antony's death. 
 By erecting statues of himself, inscribing his own exploits 
 on the pyramids, and other acts of foolish vanity, he fell, 
 like Murena, and in disgrace took his own life. Perhaps 
 Augustus suppressed Gallus's poems, as well as Virgil's 
 latest verses in his friend's honor. Certainly only 07ie line 
 has been preserved, and judicious Quintilian grants him 
 but a single word of dispraise, ''harsher " (or, more diffi- 
 cult : diirior). If he means, literally, as he appears to do, 
 harsher than Propertius, it may help reconcile ns to our 
 loss. 
 
 PROPERTIUS 
 46(?)-16(?) B.C. 
 
 This poet was born in XJmbria, at or near Assisi, St. 
 Francis's town. Though impoverished by the last civil 
 wars in Italy, his family were able to educate him for the 
 law. His life seems to have been spent almost wholly in 
 Rome. He was still almost a boy when he fell under the 
 influence of " Cynthia." Her social position was no better 
 than Lycoris's, though she had noble Roman ancestry, 
 education, poetic power, and wealth, or at least luxury 
 through her lovers' gifts. She was much older in every 
 sense than Propertius, to whom she made the first ad- 
 vances. He claims to have been her faithful slave for five 
 years. As to the existence and great prominence of such 
 women in Roman social life there is no question. In each 
 case we may treat the poet's statements as literally true, as 
 pure fiction, or as a free composite picture made up from 
 various originals.
 
 218 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 That Cynthia appears as a single woman, as a mistress, 
 or again as a matron, is a minor detail. We are dealing 
 with a time when all such relations were but a temporary 
 convenience, and the elemental moral law itself a half- 
 forgotten convention, like formal piety. 
 
 Propertius's first book of elegies was wholly devoted to 
 Cynthia. Published very early, it won the friendship of 
 Maecenas, who advised him to devote his gift rather to 
 Augustus's praise and to patriotic themes. But he declares 
 that Cynthia has made him a poet, that she was sung in 
 his first verses and shall be in his last. 
 
 As a matter of fact, his ninety-one pieces are all in 
 elegiac couplets, and sixty are dedicated to Cynthia. 
 These treat all the phases of a lawless passion. Though 
 much in the method of erotic poetry is traditional, Cynthia 
 convinces us of her own reality, as Ovid's Corinna never 
 does. Heir unfaithfulness, and their quarrels, cause him 
 to utter the ugliest truths as to her real character. 
 
 The ignoble and rather monotonous subject is not the 
 only fault of these verses. Propertius's mythology is 
 recondite, his style itself is labored and obscure, his vanity 
 is boundless. He is not a very lovable chiiructer. let a 
 truly Roman energy and vigor, at times a manful rebellion 
 against the chains that hind him, above all a truly poetical 
 and original power, have won him in our own time a small 
 but enthusiastic circle of admirers. 
 
 Though Ovid was the confidant of his early passion, and 
 Virgil the object of his adoring admiration, even Majce- 
 nas's friendship does not seem to have brought Propertius 
 into pleasant personal relations with Horace. Neither 
 mentions the other, and it is quite evident that under the 
 name of " Callimachus " the younger poet is mockingly 
 Epist.,u.,a, assailed in Horace's latest Epistle. Proper- 
 91-101. ^j^g iiad given himself the name of the 
 
 Roman Callimachus, whose birth is Umbria's chief source
 
 
 ■^(^':^ 
 
 /^' 
 
 
 r;< 
 
 .U 
 
 jf^'K 
 
 
 ;^
 
 THE ELEGIAC POETS 219 
 
 of pride. One can easily believe that to Horace, especially 
 Horace grown gray, virtuous, and philosophic, Propertius's 
 " straining after strong expression, self-consciousness, self- 
 assertion," as Professsor Sellar well says, would be distaste- 
 ful. His r ough vigor, even, would repel such a critic 
 hardly less. 
 
 Though the poet evidently died in early youth, he did 
 
 outlive his passion for Cynthia, and became interested in 
 
 nobler themes. For instance, when Augustus lost his 
 
 nephew and heir, the young Marcellus, Propertius put the 
 
 elegy to its fittest use, though he nowhere approaches the 
 
 iv_^ ,8. tender beauty of Virgil's lines. Especially 
 
 /Eneid, vi., in the last of his four (or five) books he 
 
 861-87. declares his determination to devote all his 
 
 genius to the fatherland, and the roll is in fact largely 
 
 filled with patriotic utterances. The paean on the victory 
 
 of Augustus as Actium, though written for an anniversary 
 
 fifteen years after the event, may fairly be put beside 
 
 y^ Horace's famous ode. Cynthia is dead, and 
 
 Horace, i., 37- a powcrf ul pocm describes her ghost as visit- 
 
 ^"''' ing and reproaching her forgetful lover. 
 
 She moreover prophesies his own approaching death. Yet 
 
 beside this is set a vivid account of a merry 
 
 adventure together in their happiest days. 
 
 The last poem in the collection is a dirge for Cornelia, 
 
 the wife of Paulus. This deserves high place, though 
 
 hardly the highest, among Latin elegies. It has even 
 
 something of the pathetic simplicity Avhich 
 
 upra, p. 17. ^^^ noted in a much older and briefer 
 
 epitaph. The dead wife appeals to her husband : 
 
 " Now unto thee I entrust our mutual pledges, our children. 
 Now our household begins wholly thy burden to be. 
 If thou indeed must grieve, yet weep in solitude only. 
 
 Greet them with tearless cheeks, when for thy kisses they 
 come.
 
 220 THE AUGUSTAX AGE 
 
 Paulus, enough if thou shalt spend thy nights in lamenting, 
 While full often in dreams ever my face shall appear." 
 
 This poem is also assigned to the year 16 b. c. No allusions 
 elsewhere indicate a later date, and we surmise that the 
 prophecy of Cynthia's wraith was promptly fulfilled : that 
 indeed some incurable disease suggested the vision, possibly 
 also turned the young poet's mind to solemn thoughts, 
 and also to purer human relations. 
 
 TIBULLUS 
 
 While Propertius has left us two thousand couplets, scarce 
 half that number bear Tibullus's name, and even these we 
 shall see reason to divide among three authors at least. AVe 
 cannot trace with confidence either his inner or outer 
 Horace, Epist., biography. Yet he comes much nearer our 
 '••4- hearts than Propertius or Ovid. Doubtless 
 
 Amores iii. 9. Horacc's hearty affection for him in life, and 
 
 Supra, pp. 197, •' _ ' 
 
 206 Ovid's graceful tribute after his death, help 
 
 win liim our good-will : the more as Tibullus was not pre- 
 cisely of their group. 
 
 The chief rival of MfBcenas as a patron of letters was 
 Marcus Valerius Messalla, himself a gallant soldier, a fear- 
 (Tk c -8 a d ^^''^''^ public-spirited citizen, an orator, a gram- 
 marian, an historian. In his inner circle all 
 these elegies were written, by whatever hands. Tibullus, 
 in particular, gives us a most favorable impression of 
 Messalla. 
 
 Tibullus is a gentle nature, a genuine poet on a few 
 simple themes. Though he loves Messalla, he detests war 
 and the camp, has little taste for the city, and is really 
 contelit with simple rustic life. He never utters a confi- 
 dent claim for immortal fame such as Horace's or Ovid's. 
 He burdens his verse with no Alexandrian pedantry nor 
 far-sought lore of any sort. Over much, but not all, of his
 
 THE ELEGIAC POETS 221 
 
 verse is the trail of moral uncleanness. His elegies are 
 chiefly devoted to two equally unworthy and mercenary 
 flames, " Delia/' and " Nemesis/' When we escape them 
 the dreamy poet is not unlike a youthful, unambitious 
 E.g.,ii., 1,51- Virgil. Both are happiest when they flee 
 5*- from reality into a gentler imagined golden 
 
 age, where the husbandman tunes his pijoe, care-free, and 
 dances in joyous Bacchus's honor. His gentleness to ani- 
 mals, again, can hardly be paralleled save in verses of the 
 austere Lucretius. 
 
 "Either a lamb or a kid, by the heedless mother deserted, 
 Not unwillingly I home in my bosom would bring." 
 
 When he echoes Catullus, it is some sweet, sincere note 
 
 like : 
 
 _, "If I may rest my frame on the familiar 
 
 Cf. supra, p. 119. 
 
 couch. 
 
 Over this amiable youthful head hovers the prophecy of 
 early death . Bitter disenchantment comes, yet hope still 
 beckons him on. He knows his own weakness : 
 
 " Often, how oft, have I sworn to return no more to her thresh- 
 old : 
 Wisely I swore and well : yet did my footsteps return." 
 
 Tibullus is an extremely lovable personage, and we are 
 glad to gain from Horace's allusions a glimpse of healthy, 
 sturdy rural happiness, somewhat more satisfying than the 
 impression won from the short-lived youth's own verses. 
 As we hear him, especially in these two books, this minor 
 poet is unique in tone, and, in a careful but copious selec- 
 tion, should be read by every young student of Latin 
 literature. 
 
 While neither Delia nor Nemesis is vivid enough to 
 make us quite sure of her reality, it is yet a slight shock 
 to unroll the third of these slender volumes, and find its 
 six elegies devoted to yet another, Nesera ! The name is
 
 222 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 SO familiar and conventional that we need not confound her 
 with Hoi'ace's fickle lady. The singer in this book names 
 himself as Lygdamus, and his comparatively cold, prosaic 
 verse has not at all the atmosphere of Tibullus's. Yet in 
 the fifth elegy this singer also, lying fever-stricken and 
 111.^5^3,. hopeless, sends a dying greeting to his 
 
 /Eneid, wi., 493. absent friends. The words, a close echo of 
 a Virgilian line, are : 
 
 " Live, in happiness live : yet of us be not wholly unmindful." 
 
 The fourth book, finally, opening with a tasteless and 
 wearisome panegyric on Messalla in more than two hundred 
 stiff hexameters — which may be credited to Lygdamus, or 
 yet another hand — is thereafter devoted, in brief, earnest, 
 and apparently sincere elegiac flights, to the love-affairs of 
 the lady Sulpicia. Messalla's sister was married to a Sul- 
 picius, and it is naturally surmised that this was their 
 daughter. Her lover is here named Cerinthus. Half a 
 Book IV -la dozen very brief poems are believed to be ac- 
 tually her composition, possibly even real 
 letters, as their form implies. The strong, simple and 
 artless feeling struggles against the fetters of verse. The 
 longer and more artistic poems, in which her story is told 
 more objectively, may well be from Tibullus's hand, though 
 undoubtedly there were numberless other graceful versi- 
 fiers of the day, who to us will never even be names. All 
 these four volumes are usually printed and cited as Ti- 
 bullus's. 
 
 BIBLIOCxKAPHY 
 
 An extremely convenient single volume of the Teubner series con- 
 tains all Catullus, Tibullus, Proi)ertius, with the scanty fragments of 
 many lost lyric poets. An attractive little annotated edition by G. G. 
 Ramsay contains quite as much of Tibullus and Propertius as any 
 undergraduate Latin course should include. 
 
 Both of tlieso poets are translated, essentially entire, in fluent, 
 rather free, rhymed verse by James Cranstoun.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE AFTERMATH 
 
 Propertius is supposed to have been several years older 
 than Ovid, and Tibullus was born somewhat earlier yet. 
 Ovid outlived Augustus, but had at least seen Virgil. So 
 all these authors form a single group, and the arrangement 
 here adopted is simply a diminuendo of ever-lessening im- 
 portance, from Virgil to S lUpicia. 
 
 Clearly it is an age of verse, though not of lofty poetic 
 ideals. Drama is quite dead, if indeed it had ever been, in 
 the Roman world, a living force. Epic, which should also 
 have a national character, never again reached a success to 
 be compared, even, to the ^neid. As to lyric we must 
 point chiefly to Horace, though we are hardly assured that 
 a single composition of his, save the official " Carmen Seecu- 
 lare," was ever sung in Roman streets or homes. It is a 
 curious fact, if literally true, that Lucretius, even, but not 
 Horace, is represented among the graffiti or scrawled pen- 
 cillings on the walls of Pompeii. Even Catullus, so far as 
 we know, only " scribbled verses," and copied them for his 
 friends, without music. 
 
 The happy Greek union of music and rhythmic utter- 
 ance was perhaps never attained on Latian soil. Indeed our 
 own unfortunate association of " literature " with the 
 written letter, not with the living, breathing utterance, is 
 at least partly chargeable to imperial Rome. Yet even un- 
 congenial Horace and Propertius met to listen to, and com- 
 pliment, each the other's recitations, while most of our 
 "singers" never even heard their own madrigals and can- 
 zoni uttered aloud. 
 
 333
 
 224 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 The verses of many other Augustan poets come to us, no 
 doubt, in the Virgilitin Appendix, the Latin Anthology, 
 tlie coarse sportive " Priapeia," etc. The thankless task of 
 cataloguing the forgotten names is largely done for us by 
 Pontica, iv., i6. Ovid in a Pontic epistle, wherein thirty are 
 Supra, pp. 163, mentioned. Gallus was necessarily discussed 
 
 166,216 here, as Virgil's friend. Another was Varius, 
 
 who reverently edited and j)ublished the "^neis." We 
 might welcome to the light his courtly epics on Julius and 
 Octavian, hardly his tragedy on Thyestes. 
 
 . The dull poem of Grattius on Hunting, " Cynegetica," in 
 five hundred and forty-one hexameters, must represent the 
 didactic poetry of the age. The extreme of frivolity and 
 coarseness, on the other hand, is attained in the " Priapeia," 
 dedicated to the shamelessly nude garden-god who was sup- 
 posed to scare the birds and punish thieves. The eighty 
 brief poems of this group extant belong largely to the age 
 of Augustus. Most of them are in hendecasyllables or 
 iambics. Some are witty, a very few are even proper. 
 
 The only prose work that could be seriously mentioned 
 with Livy's was the Universal History of Pompeius Trogus, 
 in forty-four books. This we can now read in the still 
 copious abridgment of Justinus. The title, '' Ilistorise 
 Philippics," has an un-Roman sound. In fact, the history 
 of the fatherland is treated in a strangely episodic and 
 sketchy fashion. Macedonia is the artistic centre-piece. 
 The work bears all the marks of a rather close translation, 
 in the main, from a Greek original, with hasty additions 
 which prove the poor claim of the Latin editor to mastery 
 over the materials he has "conveyed." That no proper 
 acknowledgment is made to the writer of the abler original 
 composition is quite in accordance with both Greek and 
 Latin usage. Several lost historical works have been men- 
 tioned already.
 
 THi; AFTERMATH 225 
 
 Oratory, in the nobler Ciceronian sense, was, of course, 
 made all but impossible by the loss of freedom. No real 
 senatorial debate or popular appeal is tolerated by an auto- 
 crat. Yet the law-courts still permitted a quiet, honorable 
 career. Occasionally, no doubt, there might yet be heard 
 an eloquent funeral oration, or even a manly panegyric on 
 a living man by such a sturdy spirit as Messalla, who ten- 
 dered to Augustus the title Cicero had craved : j^ater jm- 
 trice. The fragments of Augustan eloquence that reach us 
 we mainly owe to the elder Seneca, who, in extreme old age, 
 relying upon his phenomenal memory, recorded, in a sort 
 of prose anthology, the " Oratorum et Rhetorum Senten- 
 tiae." Whether the many citations are absolutely accurate 
 we can never know. In comparison with them, Seneca^s 
 own discussion of rhetorical method is of minor value. 
 
 The librarian and encyclopasdist Julius Hyginus was a 
 very inadequate successor to the great Varro. Perhaps his 
 numerous writings are all lost. Two extant prose works of 
 value bear his name, but the Latin is hardly worthy of the 
 Augustan epoch. The Astronomy is of importance both 
 directly and for the myths and astrological lore woven into 
 the theme. The other book is a hand-book of mythology, 
 and preserves many variations on the legends which would 
 else be unknown to us. 
 
 Vitruvius Pollio is a really learned specialist. His book, 
 ''De Architectura Libri X," written in extreme old age and 
 broken health, about 16-13 B.C., must be held constantly in 
 hand, and seriously reckoned with, by every earnest student 
 of classical construction and engineering. We are disposed 
 to accept his claim, that he was the only Roman author 
 who brought together all the various branches of his art. 
 The magnificent remains of Roman baths, aqueducts, etc., 
 make this volume doubly important. Often he is criti-
 
 226 THE AUGUSTAN AGE 
 
 cising the work of more promineut architects than himself. 
 He treats also snch subjects as construction of derricks, 
 military engines, etc. Here the loss of his drawings is es- 
 pecially deplorable. 
 
 Vitruvius cites many Greek authors, and no doubt con- 
 sulted them either directly or in compendia. The burn- 
 ing question of classical archaeology, whether the fifth-cen- 
 tury Greeks had an elevated stage in their theatres, has 
 been made to turn largely on the decision whether Vitru- 
 vius is on such a problem a competent witness, or could 
 have confused early Greek with contemporary Roman con- 
 struction. 
 
 Vitruvius's language, technical on the one side and col- 
 loquial on the other, diverges widely from the rhetorical, 
 semi-poetic elegance of Livy or Tacitus. His style is 
 straightforward and usually clear, though, as he himself 
 foresaw, it is not easy for such "abstruse matters to be 
 lucidly set forth in writing." 
 
 Least of all can we credit anything like literary quality 
 to the lexicographer and school-master Verrius Flaccus, 
 tutor of Augustus's short-lived grandsons. His grammati- 
 cal and archffiological essays are quite lost. His great 
 lexicon, entitled " De Verborum Significatu," is sadly tat- 
 tered, and what is left is oftener accredited to the later 
 abbreviator Festus, who showed his scholarly quality 
 largely by omitting the tvholly obsolete Avords, and Flaccus' 
 explanation of them ! 
 
 The barrenness of the later Augustan prose has been 
 quite sufficiently exemplified. It is abundantly clear that 
 it was an age of poetry, of elegance in form, of easy 
 morals and rather frivolous tastes. High above their time 
 tower only Virgil and Livy.
 
 AUGUSTUS. 
 Antique bust iu tlie Caiutoline Museum.
 
 THE AFTERMATH 327 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 
 
 Hardly anything mentioned in this chapter need be laid before the 
 youthful student. On the curious and fruitful subject of the graffiti 
 there is a brief illustrated article in the Harper Dictionary of Antiqui- 
 ties, and specimens in Peck and Arrowsmith's " Roman Life in Latin 
 Prose and Verse." Mature scholars will turn to Volume IV. of the 
 " Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum." 
 
 Grattius or Gratius may be cursorily perused in Bahrens's " Poetae 
 Latini Minores," Vol. I., pp. 31-53. The Priapeia may also be found in 
 Bahrens, Vol. I., in Biicheler's Petronius, or in Lucian Miiller's text of 
 the elegiac poets mentioned above. The text of Hyginus should be 
 accessible for reference in any discussion on mythological subjects. 
 Seneca's important book is included in the beautifully printed Biblio- 
 theca series of Schenkl (Leipsic and Prague). The chief edition of 
 Vitruvius is by Rose, Leipsic, 1867. There is a useful German trans- 
 lation with notes by Reber. See also Terquem, " La Science Romainc 
 a I'epoque d' Auguste. "
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES 
 
 43 B.C. -14 A.D. 
 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 
 B.C. 
 
 
 B.O. 
 
 43 
 
 Second triumvirate. The pro- 
 scriptions. 
 
 43 
 
 43 
 
 Battle of Philippi. Defeat and 
 
 42 
 
 
 death of Brutus and Cassias. 
 
 42 39 
 
 
 Meeting of Cleopatra with 
 
 
 
 Antony. 
 
 
 41 
 
 Perusian war. Antony's wife 
 Fulvia and his brother op- 
 pose Augustus. 
 
 41 
 
 40 
 
 36 
 
 83 
 
 31 
 30 
 29 
 
 Death of Fulvia. Reconcilia- 
 tion of triumvirs. Antony 
 marries Octavia. 
 
 Lepidus expelled from trium- 
 virate. 
 
 Maecenas regent in Octavian'a 
 absence. 
 
 Final rupture of Octavian and 
 Antony. 
 
 Battle of Actium. Maecenas 
 and Agrippa regents. 
 
 Death of Cleopatra and An- 
 tony. 
 
 Triple triumph of Augustus. 
 
 Temple of Janus closed. 
 
 39 
 
 37 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 Cicero's Thilippics, V.-XIV. 
 
 Murder of Cicero. 
 
 Sallust's Catiline. 
 
 Birth of Ovid. 
 
 Horace fought at Philippi 
 
 Virgil's Bucolics. 
 
 Virgil, Horace, and Propertius 
 lose their estates in the di- 
 vision of lands among the 
 veterans. 
 
 AsiniuB Pollio founds a libra- 
 ry, and introduces public 
 readings by authors. 
 
 Horace presents Virgil to 
 Maecenas. 
 
 Varro at eighty writes his " De 
 Re Rustica." 
 
 35 
 
 32 
 31 
 
 30 
 
 29(?) 
 
 28 
 
 Horace's first book of Satires. 
 Death of Sallust. 
 
 Death of Atticus. 
 Horace's Epodes. 
 
 Horace's second book of Sat- 
 ires. 
 
 Publication of Virgil's Geor- 
 gics. 
 
 Death of Varro. 
 
 228
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES 
 
 229 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 B.C. 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 27 Octavian receives title of Au- 
 gustus, and powers of tri- 
 bune, consul, pontifex, and 
 imperator. Formal crea- 
 tion of the empire. 
 
 20 Parthians surrender standards 
 
 captured from Crassus. 
 
 19 Herod rebuilds the temple at 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 17 Secular games celebrated. 
 
 11-9 German campaigns and death 
 of Drusus. 
 
 B.O. 
 
 26 
 23 
 20 
 
 19 
 
 Death of Gallus. 
 Horace's Odes, I.-IIL 
 Horace's Epistles, Book I. 
 
 Death of Virgil. 
 Death of Tibullus. 
 19-14 Horace's Epistles, Book IIL 
 17 Horace composes the " Car- 
 men Sasculare " 
 1&-13 Vitruvius composes his work 
 
 on architecture. 
 15 Death of Propertius. 
 13 Horace's Odes, Book IV. 
 
 9 Ovid's A mores, 
 
 8 Death of Maecenas and Horace 
 
 7 Birth of Seneca. 
 
 6-4 Tiberius in retirement at 
 Rhodes 
 
 4(B.c) Birth of Jesus. 
 
 1 (?) Ovid's Art of Love. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 4 Augustus adopts Tiberius. 
 
 4-6 Tiberius's campaigns in Ger- 
 many. 
 
 8 Banishment of the younger 
 
 Julia. 
 
 9 Defeat of Varus and destruc- 
 
 tion of his legions by Her- 
 mann. 
 
 12 Tiberius triumphs over the II- 
 lyrians . 
 
 14 Census taken. 4,197,000 citi- 
 zens. 
 Death of Augustus, at Nola 
 in Campania, August 19th. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 Banishment of Ovid.
 
 BOOK IV 
 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 (14 A.D.-120 A.D.)
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE EARLY EMPIRE 
 
 It is not at all unnsual to close a political history of the 
 Eomans with the accession of Octavian to official suprem- 
 acy. This would be absurd in the story of their literature, 
 since the early Augustan group is the most brilliant of any. 
 With Ovid, however, at the latest, we leave behind all who 
 had been born and bred in the air of freedom. 
 
 Yet even here it is hard to pause. Deathlike as is the 
 sombre reign of Tiberius, he himself, with his nephew 
 Germanicus, the popular idol, and his evil genius Sejanus, 
 are etched for us nearly a century later, in imperishable 
 outlines, by Tadtus, master of the most original and 
 effective style in Latin literature. To Tacitus, at least, 
 our tale must run without decisive break. Yet Tiberius's 
 jealousy toward all eminent capacity, his covert resentment 
 even when earlier Romans were eulogized, the growth of 
 the professional informers (delatores), the paralysis of all 
 free utterance or activity of any kind, left to the noblest 
 spirits no choice save stoical endurance of life or deliberate 
 suicide. When such a man could fill out his quarter- 
 century of power, exerted chiefly in absentia, die a natural 
 death, and transmit his sceptre to an untried kinsman — 
 the life of his people as a whole is effete indeed. Tiberius 
 had been, at least, a gallant leader of Augustus's armies. 
 His successors had no claim to respect save their Julian 
 blood, or adoption. 
 
 Octavian's control had been eagerly welcomed, at first, 
 as the only hope of escape from interminable civic strife. 
 His firm-held power was in some degree concealed behind 
 
 233
 
 234 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 old forms and offices still retained. The accession of his 
 heir first made perfectly clear that the world was under 
 the feet of an hereditary dynasty. AVe are disposed to 
 remember Augustus as the genial, middle-aged patron and 
 comrade of the great poets, as the secure and contented 
 pater patriae. But he was embittered by the frequent 
 plots against his life, and grew in old age suspicious, arbi- 
 trary, violent, so that the tale of his last years too often 
 reminds us of the cold, long-headed boy, Octavian, who 
 had profited by the proscriptions, without accepting the 
 chief odium from them. 
 
 As for the four kinsmen who succeeded him, the merci- 
 less judgments and biting rhetoric of Tacitus, Seneca, 
 Tiberius, 14- Juvcnal, may have unduly colored our opin- 
 37 A.D. ions, but it seems only charitable to believe 
 
 Caligula, 37- ^j^^t not One of them was fully sane. Pos- 
 
 41 A.D. •' 
 
 sibly the lonely and dangerous eminence of 
 
 Claudius, 41- "^ •' 
 
 54 A.D. the imperial throne made some form of mad- 
 
 Nero, 54- ness almost inevitable. More probably licen- 
 
 68 A.D. tiousness, and indulgence generally, had left 
 
 a brand on the whole Julian line. There is, of course, a 
 wide diversity, from the lonely and deadly silence of 
 Tiberius to the feverish versatility of Nero, yet the whole 
 effect of their rule was oppressive, nay destructive, to any- 
 thing like brilliant talent, or illustrious character, among 
 their obsequious subjects. Each of them, like Julius and 
 Augustus, had some literary gift or taste. This only 
 fanned the flame of their murderous jealousy, 
 
 Nero's excesses filled the cup of Roman, even of provin- 
 cial patience. The revolutionary discovery, that an em- 
 Tacitus, Histo- pcror could be created far from Rome, was 
 suddenly made. Vespasian, the eventual 
 
 ries, I., 4. 
 68-69 A.D. 
 
 Qaiba, otho, outcome from the anarchy of 68-69 A.u., and 
 viteiiius, yet more his noble son, Titus, who ruled 
 
 slain. both with and after him, seemed to have
 
 l W II J ' ' l ^ " 
 
 
 'o
 
 THE EARLY EMPIRE 235 
 
 established a saner and liumaner dynasty. Yet Domitian, 
 
 reigning longer than his father and brother combined, 
 
 rivalled Caligula or Nero in demoniacal 
 
 Vp'a'.d"' ' cruelty, and deadly hatred of all noble 
 TituB, 79-81 distinction. It was after his reign, not 
 
 A.D. Nero's, that gentle Pliny, drawing a free 
 
 Domitian, 8i- breath, exclaimed : ''At last men come 
 
 ^^^' ' through merit to honor, not into peril, as 
 
 heretofore." Tacitus, as was his nature, speaks far more 
 bitterly in his " Agricola." 
 
 Whatever we may believe as to the effect of paternal 
 despotism upon the career of a Virgil or a TibuUus, this 
 first century of our era as a whole could not but be destruc- 
 tive of all healthy intellectual or artistic energy. Its real 
 effects are perhaps best seen in the next 
 ' "' ° ■ ' epoch, when the strong and wise rule of the 
 five good emperors could not save their realm from steady 
 decay. In that age, too, the utter collapse of literature is 
 especially evident. 
 
 Other large causes were clearly hastening the decline. 
 What we call Latin literature had always been largely 
 Greek in its sources, models, and spirit. The inspiration 
 of the old myths was now at last exhausted. Freely traves- 
 tied in Rome so early as Plautus, vulgarized even in Ovid's 
 artistic hands, the Olympic gods had lost all power over 
 men's hearts and minds. Almost any strange Asiatic cult 
 was accepted or tolerated, since all were alike half-disdained 
 by the rulers of the world. Indeed, the final struggle of 
 Roman paganism against Roman Christianity was led by 
 Isis and Mithra rather than by Pallas and Apollo. 
 
 In the crowded, luxurious, and brutalized metropolis, 
 every form of self-indulgence seemed to grow swiftly stale. 
 From Seneca to Juvenal and Tacitus, the writers of the 
 so-called Silver Age are in one respect nearly all alike, and 
 strikingly diverse from Ovid : they are aware that their
 
 236 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 environment is ignoble : and while they are disillusionized 
 as to the present, they are hopeless as to the future. 
 
 The age of Silver Latin can hardly be defined with exact, 
 ness. Cicero and Livy, Lucretius and Virgil, are by 
 universal consent the largest or loftiest fig- 
 14.117 A.D.(?) ^^j-eg of Latin literature. After them there 
 is a distinct gap, then a flickering revival which culmi- 
 nates in Tacitus's generation. Yet as a whole this is a 
 darkening day, and no real development is possible. 
 Even the cleverest authors, as we have seen already in 
 Statius's case, cast their eyes backward toward 
 Supra, p. 156 n^asters whom they do not hope to rival. 
 
 Already we are tempted to treat each life as an isolated 
 study. Our groups must often be merely made up of 
 writers whom the chance of birth alone brought into the 
 same decades, or into a particular reign. Disintegration 
 is a sign of death, if not death itself. Brilliant talent, ay, 
 genius, may yet appear : Tacitus, or even Apuleius, may 
 claim the prouder title : but the general life of the spirit 
 perishes with the national aspiration and hope. 
 
 We may perhaps best divide the first century a.d. into 
 the conventional ''three generations." The first carries 
 us almost to Tiberius's death, the second to 
 68 A.D.' the fall of the Julian line with Nero. The 
 
 first period, by its extreme poverty of intellectual genius, 
 forms the gap just mentioned between the Gold and the 
 Silver Age. Ovid at his departure from Rome left there 
 no author whom we can account important. The whole 
 story of Tiberius's decades will occupy us but a page or 
 two. 
 
 AUTHORS OF tiberius's TIME. 
 
 Celsus's treatise on Medicine, in eight books, is a surviv- 
 ing section of an encyclopaedia, entitled '' Artes," which once 
 included philosophy, rhetoric, law, the mili- 
 
 BooksVI. toXIII. , ^ J T, /I) 1 T \T \ ^UU 
 
 tary art, and even began (liooks l.-V.) witn
 
 THE EARLY EMPIEE 237 
 
 agriculture. The compiler follows the great Greek phy- 
 sician Hippocrates, and other good models ; his Latin is 
 pure and clear ; the chance of survival makes the book 
 our main authority for the entire Roman period, indeed 
 for the whole time since Hippocrates, on medical practice ; 
 „ _ but the subject is of course technical, not of 
 
 general interest. Indeed, it seems probable 
 that Celsus Avas himself a specialist in medicine. 
 
 Of the writers sometimes represented in our school- 
 books, Valerius Maximus is a tasteless and witless collector 
 of anecdotes, to which his vanity, and fulsome eulogy of 
 the emperor, make no desirable addition. Velleius Pater- 
 culus is no less servile, and his brief compendium of Roman 
 history, in two books only, with its stilted rhetoric and 
 pompous style, seems wearisomely long. The elder Seneca, 
 already mentioned, probably made the actual written rec- 
 ords, from his marvellous memory, in Tiberius's time. 
 
 With Phaedrus, the sprightly versifier of fables, we hardly 
 pass over into the realm of poetry. Beginning as a mere 
 paraphraser of ^sop, he claims for himself more and more 
 originality, even a lofty rank among the immortal bards of 
 Rome. We can hardly give him more than a modest place 
 among juvenile classics, at best. Yet there is actually but 
 one other writer of verse to be mentioned — and the name 
 itself is extremely doubtful, the author's life utterly un- 
 known, while the assignment to Tiberius's reign is merely 
 due to certain passages which point to that time. 
 
 M, Manilius, also named in our MSS. as Malius or Mal- 
 lius, of unknown age or birth, is the composer of an astro- 
 nomical, or rather astrological, poem, in five books. The 
 subject has recurred already both in Greek and in Latin : 
 yet the poet has some justification when he claims to be a 
 pioneer. In bold and lofty speculation, in the conscious- 
 ness of grave difficulties to surmount, in its rugged style, 
 in the picturesqueness of certain episodes, in occasional
 
 238 THE AGE OF SILVEK LATIN 
 
 tenderness, finally even by its unfinished condition and im- 
 perfect transmission, the poem reminds us of Lucretius's, 
 which it, however, as a whole nowise equals. Sometimes 
 Manilius corrects Lucretius's scientific fallacies, or assails 
 the philosophic errors of earlier times, e.g., the notion 
 that the seas are a divinely appointed barrier between 
 nations. 
 
 Especially do we welcome this poet's earnest theism. In 
 
 some passages he states strongly the pantheistic notions 
 
 which Lucretius approaches, as it were, de- 
 
 ' spite himself . The immortality of the human 
 
 soul seems to him no less evident. 
 
 " Is there a doubt that a god within our breast 
 Iv., 886-87. , ^ ,,• 
 
 has a dwelling, 
 
 Or that souls of men returning attain unto Heaven ? " 
 
 His doctrines are essentially Stoic. Especially is his fatal- 
 ism prominent. 
 
 " Destiny ruleth the world : by fixt law all is appointed." 
 
 We may foresee our doom in the stars, but we can nowise 
 modify or evade it. Only in knowledge may man approach 
 divinity, not in power. The note of repining is not lack- 
 ing. 
 
 " Ever we plan to begin our life, but never are living." 
 
 Altogether this poem, not once mentioned by any ancient 
 author, deserves to be better known. But again, as at 
 Cicero's advent, we must turn suddenly from obscure half- 
 forgotten names to a career which fills, and seems to domi- 
 nate, a whole generation. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Manilius is so little known to American scholars, that the still useful 
 and accessible critical edition of Jacob (Reimer, Berlin, 1846), may be 
 mentioned here.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 SENECA 
 
 3 B.C.-A.D. 65. 
 
 Once again the new impulse in Latin letters comes from 
 another land. The elder Seneca was born in Cordova, 
 where a house is still pointed out as his. Thither he was 
 fond of retiring, especially toward the close of his long life. 
 His three sons have all, in different degrees, an interest for 
 us. The eldest, adopted by his father's friend, was that ruler 
 of Achaia who looked on, with truly Roman contempt, while 
 a mob of Greeks beat the ''chief ruler of the synagogue * 
 in Corinth, and again when the Jews attempted to arraign 
 Paul for heresy before the governor's seat of judgment. 
 " Gallio cared for none of these things," says the chronicler: 
 and by this disregard for the quarrels of subject races, for- 
 N. T. Acts gotten by him in a day, ''careless G-allio's" 
 
 xviH., 17. name has come down to us as a byword. Yet 
 
 his famous kinsman left for him this epitaph: "No mortal 
 was ever so sweet to anyone as he was to all men." The 
 youngest brother, Mela, was the father of the poet Lucan, 
 and was dragged down to ruin with his son when that 
 young life came to its cowardly end. 
 
 The far more famous second brother, Lucius Annaeus 
 Seneca, was born like his father at Cordova, but educated 
 in Rome. He also spent some time in Egypt, of which his 
 aunt's husband, Pollio, was governor. Though carefully 
 trained in the rhetorical studies of his father, he showed a 
 strong preference for philosophy, including natural science, 
 but especially ethics. In fact, he is so clearly a preacher, 
 
 239
 
 240 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 that we cannot wonder at the baseless legend, that he was 
 the personal friend and correspondent of the apostle Paul. 
 Distinguished ability like Seneca's would suffice to make 
 him the target of the professional informers. Under 
 Caligula he was saved from condemnation, for the crimes 
 of excessive wealth and eloquence, only on the plea that 
 he was already marked for early death by consumption. 
 In Claudius's time he was again accused. 
 
 At R C o ' 
 
 and exiled to Corsica. The charge, that he 
 was a lover of the princess Julia Livilla, Caligula's sister, 
 we need not believe. 
 
 Seneca was suddenly recalled, given the office of praetor, 
 and made tutor of the young Nero. This swift rise 
 seems clearly a part of the schemes of the 
 ambitious Agrippina, who just at this time 
 succeeds as empress the notorious and ill-fated Messalina. 
 The adoption, by the emperor, of his stepson Nero soon 
 followed. In the murder of Claudius by his wife Seneca 
 need not have been an accessory: but he debased his genius 
 to unseemly ridicule on the dead ruler, lauded his murder- 
 ers, and shared their gains. 
 
 The most dreadful of all the family tragedies in the 
 doomed house, however, was the elaborately planned de- 
 struction of Agrippina by the unnatural son 
 for whom she had made every possible sacri- 
 fice. This fearful deed Seneca at least condoned, even de- 
 fended as a political necessity. 
 
 Presently he realized that his enormous wealth, and un- 
 wise display, were endangering his own life. Offering straight- 
 way all his fortune as a gift to his young master, he at- 
 tempted to retire to Spain. It was too late. Entangled 
 in flimsy charges of treason, such as were now always at the 
 tyrant's command, he was bidden to end his 
 life. This he did with the promptness of a 
 true Roman, even with the philosophic dignity of a Socrates.
 
 SEISTECA 241 
 
 It was an example which Nero himself, a few years later, 
 ignobly failed to follow. 
 
 Such a life makes ns understand better, why the choicest 
 spirits of the age usually preferred a self-inflicted death. 
 It opens a glimpse at the conditions of government by a 
 despot under the sway of Greek freedmen, unprincipled 
 women, and professional informers. But above all, it 
 shows some of the temptations which ensnared a nature 
 not wholly unfit to stand beside Cicero: for like him Seneca 
 was ambitious, vacillating, patriotic ; quite as tender, and 
 truer to the closest home-ties, humane and loving to 
 slaves ; gifted, also, with unlimited power of fluent and 
 pleasing utterance. 
 
 Seneca is the most brilliant expositor of Stoic philoso- 
 phy. He expresses high regard, too, for the Cynics, who 
 may be called the logical reductio ad dbsurduni of Stoicism, 
 for they preach not merely temperate self-denial but the 
 seclusion of a hermit or a stylite. Nay, this tolerant school- 
 man realized, that even Epicures, with his purest disciples, 
 under another name and by a different path, had reached 
 nearly the same ethical goal. Like Plato, he is disposed 
 to regard this life as an exile and imprisonment of the 
 erring soul. Seneca, therefore, naturally, hopes for an 
 immortal future life of the soul: though this, or any other 
 reward of virtue, is no cardinal doctrine of Stoicism. 
 Epictetos and Marcus Aurelius, for instance, barely allude 
 to such a prospect as possible. Here again we see how 
 close Seneca comes to the apostolic teachings of his time. 
 
 " Why some troubles befall good men, though there be a 
 Providence. ' ' 
 
 "On tranquillity of spirit." 
 
 " That a wise man can suffer neither injury nor disgrace." 
 
 " To my mother Helvia, on consolation." 
 
 These are certainly very natural theses for a moral phi- 
 losopher in the first century. Twelve extended discourses
 
 242 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 on such themes make up the ''Dialogues": ill-named, for 
 Seneca's tendency to monologue is even more marked than 
 Cicero's. The discourse addressed to an heroic and bereft 
 woman, Marcia, is also entitled "De Consolatione." But 
 a third time the title appears, when Polybios, a viHanous 
 freedman and intriguer of the imperial court, has lost a 
 brother. Here both creature and master are skilfully 
 flattered, and Seneca's own desire for jDardon is delicately 
 touched. 
 
 " In order that the tears of those who are in peril, and would 
 fain attain the mercy of most clement Caesar, may be dried, 
 you must needs dry your own. . . . He did not cast me 
 down, but when I was assailed by fortune, and falling, he 
 upheld me. He granted, nay begged for my life. It is my 
 chief comfort in misery to see his mercy traverse all the 
 world. . . . He best linows the time when he should 
 rescue each. . . . Well may you know these thunder- 
 bolts to be most just, which even they who are stricken adore. " 
 
 The seven books on natural science — which is marked 
 off in three cosmic zones, astronomy, meteorology and 
 geography — had great influence in the Middle Ages, though 
 now, of course, little more than a storehouse of curious 
 guesses. This is almost the only large work of Seneca's 
 which we can fairly call secular, and even here he would 
 have us view nature always as the clear and orderly handi- 
 work of deity. He has, like other Stoics, a high and pure 
 conception of tlie supreme " Artifex." 
 
 The no less extended work " On Benefits " contains much 
 of interest. In Book III., especially, pathetic examples of 
 devotion shown by slaves to their masters are brought to- 
 gether. Such teachings of human equality may really 
 have been quickened, even without Seneca's own knowl- 
 edge, by the apostolic teachings : but also by the terrible 
 social conditions which all but made every Ilomau an ab- 
 ject and trembling slave.
 
 SENECA 243 
 
 Yet, since the briefest sermons are often the best, we 
 find it easier to enjoy Seneca's so-called " Letters," col- 
 lected in the twenty books "Ad Lucilium," We need not 
 envy Gellius, who read twenty-two books at least. Yet 
 every wide-ranging Latinist, student of ethics, or even of 
 style, should dip deeply — it matters little just where — 
 into these mature reflections on life. Wherever he opens, 
 he will be struck by a happy phrase. In the brevity, 
 rapidity, and ostentatious simplicity of the sentence he 
 may be reminded, at first, of Emerson. E.g., 
 
 " The way is safe, is pleasant, is one for which nature has 
 fitted tliee. She has given thee tliat, which if thou neglect 
 not tliou shaft rise to the god's level. But not 
 ■ money shall make thee god-like : the god hath 
 nothing. The robe will not make thee so: the god is naked. 
 Fame, or display, or knowledge of thy name spread among the 
 nations will not avail : the god no one hath known. Many 
 think ill of him : and are not punished." 
 
 Yet slowly, surely, our enthusiasm flags. Just why, can- 
 not be so briefly told. In the first place, as Quintilian 
 ouint X I I20 sternly declares, the style itself is an essen- 
 tially perverse one, and even in a master's 
 hand it can beguile us for a time, but not hold us captive 
 forever. Emerson's eye is fixed on a real and living image: 
 his words are the fittest and simplest by which it can be 
 swiftly set before us. Or, he divines deep currents, even 
 an ocean, of truth undiscovered, and his keen, cold, flash- 
 ing phrase lights ns, at least, as far as our eager vision can 
 follow his. But Seneca loves the phrase for itself. He 
 culls words as a lady gathers bright flowers and matches 
 their tints. Sometimes the thought they convey is wise, 
 helpful, original. Quite as often, under the waving 
 plumes and polished visor of his rhetoric, peep out the 
 homely features of a trite commonplace or even a childish 
 truism. E.g. " For those who voyage this sea, tempestuous
 
 244 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 and exposed to all changes of weather, there is no port, 
 save that of death." Emerson's sentences challenge us to 
 expand them into paragraphs. Seneca's pages we can 
 always condense without loss. 
 
 Again, the moral application is too insistent, the 
 preacher's tone too strident. We cannot forget what his 
 own life was. The sermon just quoted continues : " The 
 mob of slaves avails not, tha bear thy litter on journeys 
 through town and field." We recall, that Seneca's retinue 
 was all but imperial. This advocate of contentment in 
 poverty was the richest of courtiers. He bade his dis- 
 ciples live, as Emerson said to Thoreau, in one-room 
 cabins, but he entertained them at five hundred tables glo- 
 rious in cedar and ivory. All this, indeed, he frankly con- 
 fesses, bidding men follow his precept, not his example. 
 
 Seneca's taste is hardly as florid and highly colored as 
 that of his century generally. Perhaps we ought not to 
 emphasize the passages where, in detailing the excesses of 
 Julia or the unnatural vices of the age, he seems, like 
 Juvenal, to take a morbid interest in the very sins that he 
 condemns. 
 
 The blackest shadows on this strange, tragic, splendid 
 life have already been indicated. The portrait statue that 
 usually bears his name is, like most, of doubtful authentic- 
 ity. Yet the general voice insists on its fitness. The fur- 
 rowed brow has other lines than those of age and thought. 
 Out of the eyes gazes a hunted, a horrified, if not a lost 
 soul. It reminds us of the phrase in which the greatest of 
 evangelists uttered the awful doubt lest, while he pointed 
 out for others the heavenward path, he himself might 
 " become a castaway." 
 
 Yet there are numberless happy turns to be learned from 
 Seneca's style. If not whole sermons, much less entire vol- 
 umes, are to be treasured, yet hundreds of sentences might 
 well be utilized by our Latin instructors who cast about so
 
 tSU-C'ALM:i) SEX EC A. 
 Antique hronze bust from IIiTcnlaiii'um, now in Naples Mnsouni.
 
 SENECA 245 
 
 hopelessly in qnest of classical material fit for childish eyes. 
 While Seneca loved power, glory, splendor, and sacrificed 
 for them his lasting good name and present peace of mind, 
 yet in an age of betrayal and ghastly selfishness he appears 
 steadfast to all ties of intimate friendship or family love. 
 At the worst, his example has long since ceased to be 
 harmful. Much of his ethical teaching has been fittingly 
 adopted, even by popes and church councils, as at least 
 sharing largely the authority of Christian dogma. 
 
 The works already mentioned now fill over a thousand 
 solid Teubner pages. Yet a long list of his lost moral 
 treatises is represented by titles and citations in later 
 writers, especially in great Christian authors lilie Lactan- 
 tius, Tertullian, Jerome, and Augustine. We turn to a 
 most curious work also ascribed, but with less certainty, to 
 Nero's tutor. It is probably the best extant example of the 
 Menippean satire, in deftly mingled prose and verse, for 
 which Varro was especially famous. 
 
 THE SATIRE ON CLAUDIUS. 
 
 A prosy Greek chronicler mentions a satire of Seneca 
 on Claudius's death, called " Apokolokyntosis " instead of 
 "Apotheosis." We may render " Pumpkinification," or 
 " Reception of Claudius among the Gourds." Among the 
 extant works is a most clever, imaginative and ungracious 
 extravaganza, upon this very subject. Claudius arrives on 
 Olympus, misshapen, halting, mumbling, as in life. Even 
 the wide- wandering Heracles cannot identify the newcomer. 
 His sole escort. Fever, finally makes him known. His ad- 
 mission is seriously considered, but finally denied after an 
 eloquent denunciation of his murders and other crimes, ut- 
 tered by his own grandfather Augustus. 
 
 Passing downwai'd toward Hades, Claudius is pleased to 
 see his own funeral in the Via Sacra. We hear the dirge.
 
 246 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 made up in Aristophanic fashion of sincere praise, e.g., for 
 his victories in Britain, mingled with ridicule : 
 
 " Mourn for the hero 
 Than whom more swiftly 
 Never another 
 Could settle a lawsuit, 
 Hearing but one side, 
 — Frequently neither ! " 
 
 The tale ends in a confused fashion. In the under- world 
 Claudius is twice sentenced : once to dice forever with a 
 bottomless box, and again to be the slave and drudge of a 
 freed man. 
 
 But of transformation into a gourd there is no hint. 
 Some ingenious editors think this was still a third doom 
 now lost from our MSS, ; or, that Seneca wrote two distinct 
 satires after Claudius's death; or, yet again, that this heart- 
 less skit is not from Seneca's hand at all. There is, how- 
 ever, little doubt as to the authorship. 
 
 While the dead Claudius is thus loaded with every con- 
 ceivable insult, Nero is hailed as the harbinger of a golden 
 age. Apollo is introduced prophesying to the Fates : 
 
 " He shall transcend the years of mortal life, 
 Like me in face and beauty, nor in song 
 And eloquence inferior. He shall bring 
 A happy age to wearied men, and end 
 The silence of the laws." 
 
 The treatise on Clemency, in three books, with which 
 the philosopher hailed his pupil's succession to imperial 
 power, expresses much the sauie high hopes. Indeed, the 
 first years of Nero's reign threw credit on himself and on 
 his Mentor. How bitterly Seneca, as well as the rest of 
 the world, was later undeceived, need not be repeated.
 
 SENECA 24^ 
 
 THE LATIN TRAGEDIES. 
 
 After all that has been said as to the steady degradation 
 of the Eoman theatre, it is surprising to find, in the age 
 of Nero, and included among the works of Seneca, the only 
 serious Latin dramas that have survived. 
 
 Of these, one is doubly interesting, since the scene is 
 laid in Nero's palace, and in the year 62 a.d. The real 
 subject is the utter downfall of the Julian house. The 
 central figure is Octavia, daughter of Claudius, the unwill- 
 ing and unhonored wife of the tyrant. In her opening 
 soliloquy, in the following scenes with her nurse and, later, 
 with a sympathizing chorus, are rehearsed the murders 
 of her father and of her young brother, Britannicus, and 
 all the horrors of the situation. 
 
 In the next scene appears Seneca, who soliloquizes at 
 much length and learning on the progressive wickedness 
 of mankind ever since the golden age. 
 
 "But lo, with startled step and savage look 
 Comes Nero. What he plans I dread to hear." 
 
 The despot as he enters is uttering an order for execu- 
 tions. 
 
 Seneca in single lines preaches mercy. 
 
 Seneca : Rashly to harm our neighbors is unseemly. 
 
 Nero : Easily is he just who hath no fears. 
 
 Seneca : A mighty cure for fright is clemency. 
 
 Nero : A king's chief merit is to slay his foes. 
 
 Seneca : A greater is to save the citizens. 
 
 Nero : By gentle old men children should be trained. 
 
 Seneca : Rather should eager youth be ruled by them. 
 
 Nero : My present age, methinks, is wise enough. 
 
 The emperor presently announces that he will divorce Oc- 
 tavia, and marry her favored rival.
 
 248 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 This scene is the calmest in the play. Later, the angry 
 ghost of Nero's mother rises to curse him and his. The 
 new queen, Poppaea, appears, with her own nurse, con- 
 fidante, and even a rival chorus. The people are reported 
 as rising in Octavia's favor, but this only draws from Nero 
 the order for her banishment to a lonely island and her 
 prompt execution there. 
 
 The plot follows closely the tradition of the real events. 
 There is action enough, and some sympathy for Octavia is 
 aroused. The style, though over-rhetorical, is sufficiently 
 clear and rapid. The various metrical forms of Greek 
 tragedy are very fairly imitated. 
 
 The speeches and choral odes are extremely long, and in 
 general the play is declamatory. Its fatal defect is the 
 utter lack of any noble action or character, any large 
 poetic beauty, to reward us for enduring its harrowing 
 scenes. Yet it is better than we should expect. This is 
 the one surviving example in Latin of the prcetexta or 
 native tragedy. We do not know that it was ever played, 
 though it could perfectly well be performed. 
 
 Agrippina's wraith prophesies her son's " shameful 
 flight," and adds : 
 
 " The day shall come when he repays his crimes 
 With forfeit life, offers his throat to foes, 
 Deserted, overthrown, bereft of all. " 
 
 These definite touches make clear that the play, or cer- 
 tainly this scene, was written after Nero's death. This is 
 the chief and evidently the sufficient objection to accept- 
 ing it as Seneca's work. 
 
 It is impossible to discuss in detail the nine other 
 tragedies, which are all on Greek themes. In most 
 cases we have extant Attic dramas on the same subjects, 
 and the comparison is disastrous to the Latin works. 
 Yet they are not servile copies, nor are they lacking
 
 SENECA 249 
 
 iu power. Everything else, however, seems sacrificed to 
 the creation of long declamatory harangues. Of char- 
 acter-study, of jDoetic atmosphere, there is little indeed. 
 The authorship of Seneca seems fully defended by the 
 many close parallels with his prose works, especially 
 the nuggets of Stoic philosophy on fate, resignation, 
 nedea, vss. suicidc, and other favorite themes. Even 
 
 looi-ip. Seneca's peculiar trick of elaborated brevity 
 
 Horace, de Arte , tvt i • i 
 
 Poetica, vs. reappears here. JNothmg that can harrow 
 «8s- our feelings is neglected. Medea even breaks 
 
 Horace's explicit command, and slays her children before 
 our eyes. 
 
 The ''Hercules Mad," and the "Medea," imitate the 
 plots of Euripides. The " Phaedra " follows rather his 
 first draught of the "Hippolytos" than our extant play, 
 in which the Attic poet removed the coarser traits of 
 Phaedra's character, and made a scapegoat of her nurse. 
 The "Trojan Women" utilizes parts of the Enripidean 
 play of the same name, but also of the " Hecuba." The 
 "(Edipus Rex" of Sophocles, the "Agamemnon" of Ais- 
 chylos, are no less clearly Seneca's originals. The long 
 "Hercules on Mount CEta" overruns the limits of Soph- 
 ocles's " Trachinians." The horrible myth of Thyestes, be- 
 guiled into devouring his children's flesh, is not treated in 
 any extant Greek play, and few will care to study it here. 
 The " Phoenissge," finally, is a mere pair of fragments which 
 could hardly have been included in one play, and may well 
 be mere studies, never completed. The purest heroine of 
 Attic drama, Antigone, appears in both : sadly travestied, 
 though with the best intent. 
 
 These plays, also, could be put upon the stage. The 
 division into five acts, the indication of the scene, the limi- 
 tation to three speakers, are fairly observed. But the 
 popular taste under Nero would infinitely prefer a mime, 
 not to mention a procession, a circus, or a gladiatorial con-
 
 250 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 test. A small obsequious circle of the court may have ap- 
 plauded them, in the days before Seneca's headlong fall 
 from favor. In later Latin literature, but especially in 
 Kacine or Corneille, their influence is seen. It is safe to 
 say that our age will never revive them. 
 
 The silence of Quintilian as to Seneca's tragedies is cer- 
 tainly remarkable, as he seems to be giving something like 
 Quintilian, X., I., a hasty resume of his various labors: "He 
 
 S '*^- treated nearly every form of literary mate- 
 
 rial, for orations, poems, letters, and dialogues of his are 
 in circulation." It may be just possible that the dramas 
 are curtly included under ''poems," or that they were not 
 precisely "in circulation" (feruntur). Yet a distinct 
 mention of them here would give the final assurance, which 
 is still lacking, of their authenticity. 
 
 That tragedies were still acted in public we know, chiefly 
 from the curious fortunes of Pomponius Secundus, who is 
 o I til X 1 warmly praised by Quintilian, and no less by 
 
 §98. Tacitus. The latter assures him of lasting 
 
 Tacitus, Annaies, fame f or his dramas, rather than for his 
 
 * "^ * notable victory and triumph over the Ger- 
 
 man Chatti. Popular insolence to this noble author, and 
 to eminent ladies, in the theatre, was the occasion for se- 
 Tacitus, Annaies, vcre cdicts issucd by Claudius. Yet of his 
 
 xi., 13- patriotic drama "^neas" the name is barely 
 
 rescued for us, while as to plays on Greek themes, written 
 by Pomponius, even the titles are questioned. Some read- 
 ers may be consoled for this loss by the statement that he, 
 like Seneca, often devoted his prologues to the discussion 
 of burning questions in propriety of diction. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Seneca is " easy" reading in Latin, and usually requires little anno- 
 tation. The Teubner text in three volumes should be much more gen- 
 erally perused. Here may also be read the brief feeble and clearly
 
 SENECA 251 
 
 spurious correspondence of Paul and Seneca. (Vol. III., pp. 476- 
 81.) The tragedies are edited separately, in most scholarly fasliion, by 
 Leo. The careful judgment on Seneca by Quintilian is a masterpiece 
 of literary criticism. 
 
 The recent translation in the Bohn Library is carefully done, but is 
 incomplete. The satire on Claudius's death has just been translated 
 and edited, both excellently, by Bali in the Columbia University publi- 
 cations. Two of the tragedies, Medea and Troades, have recently been 
 translated with vigor, accuracy, and taste, in verse, by Ella I. Harris 
 (Houghton). Quite interesting is an early essay by Canon Far- 
 rar, which occupies the greater part of the volume called " Seekers 
 after God," where it is combined with briefer studies of Marcus Aure- 
 lius and Epictetus.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CONTEMPORARIES OF SENECA 
 
 Compared with this large and typical career, all the 
 other authors of the time are minor figures. As to the liter- 
 ary work of the rulers we need hardly say a word, though 
 Claudius was a devoted student and voluminous historian, 
 who should never have been dragged from his books into 
 the pitiless light that beats upon a throne. He even made 
 a pedantic attempt to reform the Latin alphabet. His 
 works have all perished, save a few inscriptions. 
 
 Claudius's father, the beloved Germanicus, has left us a 
 metrical rendering of Aratos's Astronomy. It is a distinct 
 improvement on Cicero's version. The boldest change is 
 the omission of the dedication to Zeus, for whom is sub- 
 stituted the emperor, Tiberius. 
 
 The curious prominence of this subject in decadent 
 Latin literature can be easily explained. The belief in the 
 reading of the future in the stars had outlasted nearly 
 every other form of living faith or superstition among the 
 cultivated classes. Indeed, " tampering with the astrolo- 
 gers " was one of the commonest charges made by the in- 
 formers, since the plots against the emperor's life were 
 believed to be oftenest hidden under supposed prophecies. 
 The capital was thronged with as many seers, astrologers, 
 mages, of real or pretended Oriental birth, as it deserved. 
 
 In this age begins the systematic editing and annotating 
 of those greater Latin authors who were already regarded 
 as classics. In particular, M, Valerius Probus prepared 
 careful editions, and biographies, of Terence, Lucretius, 
 Virgil, Horace, and even of his contemporary, Persius. 
 
 252
 
 CONTEMPORAKIES OF SENECA 353 
 
 There is extant only a brief but useful monograph of his 
 on abbreviations, use of initial letters, etc. Asconius also 
 made extended commentaries, based upon thorough his- 
 torical study. On five Ciceronian speeches he still affords 
 material aid. Caesius Bassus, a poet whose verses are lost, 
 left a treatise on metres, from which there are valuable 
 fragments. Such secondary work indicates the conscious- 
 ness that the creative age is closing. Pomponius Mela, 
 writing in Claudius's reign, is the author of our oldest 
 Latin treatise on geography, in three books. He complains, 
 like Cicero before him, that the material 
 resists rhetorical treatment. 
 
 More important than any of these is Columella, a Spaniard 
 like Seneca, a native of Cadiz, who under Nero, in ad- 
 vanced years, wrote his truly encyclopsedic work on Agri- 
 culture, in twelve books. The tenth, on gardening, is 
 composed as a filial tribute to Virgil's genius, in accurate 
 but uninspired hexameter verses. The rest is prose. 
 Though cumbrous in plan, this voluminous work is a store- 
 house of information. 
 
 The chief historical essay preserved is Quintus Curtius's 
 biography of Alexander the Great. This was apparently 
 composed in Claudius's time, judging from a passage in 
 which that emperor's accession seems to be described. 
 Nothing is known of the author. The style is extremely 
 pleasing. In his choice of scenes and subjects to present 
 in detail Curtius is really artistic. As an historical docu- 
 ment, the work is inferior to Arrian's somewhat later ac- 
 count in Greek. Of the ten books, only eight, III.-X., re- 
 main, somewhat tattered. 
 
 All these prose works indicate a prudent effort to select 
 subjects so remote, colorless, or pacific that they cannot 
 possibly be displeasing even to the most jealous imperial 
 censorship. The next in our list, however, is nowise lack- 
 ing in audacity, or in contemporary coloring.
 
 254 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 PETRONIUS 
 
 The title "Satires of Petronins" really covers a single 
 tale of travel and picaresque adventure, of the general type 
 "best known to us through " Gil Bias," or, perhaps, " Tom 
 Jones." No modern author, however, would be permitted 
 even to hint at actions and scenes such as are here fully 
 delineated. From the romance in at least twenty books 
 we have only meagre fragments, the chief of which de- 
 scribes a banquet given by a rich upstart, Trimalchio, and 
 his equally vulgar wife, Fortunata. In all Latin litera- 
 ture there is nothing approaching the dramatic vividness, 
 the wit, the uproarious mirthfulness, of this episode. 
 
 The youth Eucolpios, Avho is recording his experiences, 
 though a freedman, is liberally educated, and uses the 
 ornate Latin of the day, somewhat colored by poetic 
 phrases and Greek words. Much of the talk among the 
 guests is in the vulgar speech, full of racy old Latin 
 idioms, or, again, of the latest slang. The tasteless splendor 
 of the palace, the boastful hospitality of the hosts, the 
 elaborate surprises provided for the guests as each course 
 is served in most novel fashion, all make up an indescribable 
 medley. It is clear, meantime, that all this wasteful con- 
 fusion and babel is being set forth by a consummate art- 
 ist, tolerant of all human weakness, deft and light even 
 in his scorn, not unaware of the disdain with which a more 
 reticent age must view both his pictures and himself. By 
 many a quiet yet deadly stroke he seems in Trimalchio 
 to be pillorying and immortalizing some real and hated 
 parvenu. 
 
 The other fragments suffice to show that this scene was 
 one of the relatively decent episodes of the entire work. 
 On the whole we hardly know whether to deplore or rejoice 
 over the loss of what may well have been the most vivid 
 and merciless picture of debased humanity ever painted.
 
 CONTJ,MPOIlARIES OF SENECA 255 
 
 A character who appears rather late is a pretentions old 
 poet, Eumolpos. Among the verses which he enables the 
 satirist to introduce freely is a "Sack of Troy" in sixty- 
 five hexameters, and a poem on the civil wars in two hun- 
 dred and ninety-five verses. Despite an occasional roguish 
 Virgilian parody or other lapse from dignity, these poems 
 show more talent than most of the serious epic writing of 
 the century. The overt intent to deride seems here again 
 clear. The exact application of the artist's gibes can 
 probably be pointed out. 
 
 Among the poetic attempts of Nero which have a promi- 
 nent share in the tradition of his mad rule was a Trojan 
 epic : recited, so runs the tale, while Rome was burning. 
 As to Xero's boon-companion, poetic rival, and short-lived 
 victim, Lucan, with the account of the civil wars in his 
 " Pharsalia," we shall speak elsewhere. Va- 
 rious allusions to real persons indicate that 
 Petronius's scene, and the author's actual life, are cast in 
 Nero's days. 
 
 Finally, near the close of Tacitus's annals, is found one 
 
 of his most masterly character-sketches. Petronius Arbiter, 
 
 equally famous for his gallantry and execu- 
 
 Annales,xvi..i8. } ■! . .^ ^ i- 
 
 tive ability in active hie, for his extrava- 
 gant ingenuity in debauchery, and for his fearless, refined, 
 and caustic wit, attained a dangerous eminence, and won 
 his surname, in Nero's inmost circle, as Arbiter eleganti- 
 arum, or final referee on all points of taste in genteel dissi- 
 pation. Undermined by the deadly jealousy of Nero's 
 most shameless favorite Tigellinus, Petronius, amid light- 
 hearted banter, opened his own veins and ended his life, 
 having first sent to the emperor — not, like other victims, 
 a humble confession and bequest of his wealth, but — a 
 deadly arraignment, including a list of all the men and 
 women whom the tyrant's greed, passion, or suspicion had 
 destroved.
 
 256 THE AGE OF SILVER lATIN" 
 
 The notion that our romance was the document just men- 
 tioned is almost too absurd to repeat. That " Trimalchio " 
 was in detail an unmistakable portrait of Tigellinus is not 
 improbable, and would alone suffice to explain the murder- 
 ous hatred of the favorite for his satirist. 
 
 LATIN ILIAD 
 
 With this Menippean or Rabelaisian satire we have passed 
 the line, no longer well-defined, between prose and verse. 
 Almost a parody also, in its brevity, freedom, and inade- 
 quacy, is the version based on Homer and called the "Lat- 
 in Iliad." We must not suppose that Andronicus's ar- 
 chaic " Odyssey " had waited so long for a 
 pendant. Indeed, several earlier translations 
 are mentioned. In the form transmitted to us these ten 
 hundred and seventy hexameters date from the Julian dy- 
 nasty. The passage which makes this assured is itself a bold 
 embroidery of the original. 
 
 " Had not the lord of the wide sea- waters rescued ^neas, 
 Destined, an exile, Troy to restore in a happier region, . . . 
 Then would the rise of a well-loved dynasty never have 
 happened. " 
 
 Ascribed with incredible ignorance to Homer, or, yet more 
 strangely, to Pindar, this jDerformance long maintained 
 itself as a mediaeval text-book. 
 
 CALPURNIUS 
 
 An imitator of Virgil's Bucolics, without his genius or 
 fresh charm, is T. Calpurnius Piso. Of his seven pasto- 
 rals, several use this form merely to eulogize a young, beau- 
 tiful, and poetic living emperor. These and numerous 
 other allusions, not excepting the announcement of an in
 
 CONTEMPORARIES OF SENECA 257 
 
 coming golden age, point to the first years of Nero's rule. 
 The four poems formerly added to these seven, in MSS. 
 and editions, are still remoter echoes of an echo, to be 
 credited to the late versifier Kemesianus. 
 
 Perhaps connected with these seven poems is a Panegy- 
 ric on Calpurnius Piso, clearly the man who was consul 
 Tacitus, Anna- Under Nero, but in 65 a.d. lost his life as 
 les, XV., 48. a conspirator against his master. The eulo- 
 gist describes himself as a poor youth. It has been per- 
 haps too ingeniously suggested, that he may have been 
 adopted into the gens of his patron and so bore his name. 
 
 PERSIUS 
 34-62 A.D. 
 
 Possibly it is the general barrenness or silence of his time 
 that has aided the shrill, piercing cry of young Persius to 
 reach so far across the centuries. He is aware that he is 
 no true singer. Originality, in substance or style, will 
 hardly be claimed for him. His manner is a painful dis- 
 tortion of Horace's, and he lashes, more fiercely and intol- 
 erantly, much the same follies or sins. He may have been 
 also heavily indebted to Lucilius. He offers us altogether 
 only six hundred and fifty hexameters, to which the Epi- 
 logue, if authentic, adds fourteen "limping" iambic verses. 
 Yet in the peculiarly Eoman field of satire he is usually 
 counted as a creditable third. Lucan, Quintilian, Martial, 
 promptly unite in hearty praise of Persius. Later antiquity, 
 and the Middle Ages, kept his influence alive. In his mod- 
 ern editors, even down to the days of Conington and Gil- 
 dersleeve, he has been most fortunate. 
 
 What is his charm ? To be perfectly truthful, most 
 men do not discover it at all, and are almost tempted to 
 wonder if his admirers find it in his obscurity itself. 
 Through that obscurity, which makes him almost incohe-
 
 258 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 rent, is heard the fierce sincerity of youth. He preaches 
 pure Stoic dogmas, amid a shameless and vicious Avorld. 
 But it is a world which he does not really know, as Juvenal, 
 for instance, does, and his doctrines are but the orthodox 
 and thrice-familiar maxims of his mentors. 
 
 It is most pleasing when the tired youth recalls his boy- 
 ish attempts to escape his taskmasters, in the days when 
 
 " I did not wish 
 To learn by heart the dying Cato's words : 
 Which my daft tutor, though, would loud applaud, 
 And with a glow of pride my father heard, 
 When I declaimed to his assembled friends. " 
 
 Even in so brief a career may be seen some progress toward 
 clear and natural expression. Amid some of the most wil- 
 ful of his figures, like the " mere plaster of a varnished 
 tongue," one may cull such tender lines as these to his 
 instructor : 
 
 * ' It is my joy to show, O sweet my friend. 
 To you, how large a part of me is yours. 
 
 A hundred voices I might dare to crave, 
 That I in clearest utterance might reveal 
 How in my heart's recesses you are fixt." 
 
 Yet, even if we had only Latin poets to touch the harp- 
 strings of the soul, it would still be not Persius but Catul- 
 lus who strikes with full mastery the note of 
 friendship or gratitude. 
 The only other surviving poet of Nero's day, Lucan, 
 must open a new chapter. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The minor authors here mentioned may be passed over lightly by 
 the young student. "Trimalchio" has lately been introduced into 
 good society through an illustrated translation and essay by Professor 
 H. T. Peck. This is quite enoug of Petronius for any save the
 
 CONTEMPORAKIES OF SENECA 259 
 
 learned specialist. The far more respectable Columella does not 
 appear to have been edited, nor translated into English or German, 
 since the eighteenth century. Calpurnius's pastorals, the eulogy on 
 Piso, and the " Latin Iliad " may be read conveniently in Biihrens's 
 "Poeta; Latini Minores." Persius is most skilfully rendered in prose 
 by Professor Conington, whose edition has since been improved by 
 Nettleship, In Professor Gildersleeve's edition there is a close study 
 of the linguistic perversities.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 THE EPIC POETRY 
 
 From the first century a.d. we have the works of four 
 poets, who must be classified as epic. By evident imita- 
 tion, or even by explicit tributes, like 
 Statius's, they reveal their consciousness of 
 Virgil's supremacy. They all show, in varying degree, a 
 careful effort in hexameter versification, full knowledge of 
 historical incident or mythical tradition, and power of 
 vivid portrayal. They have had comparatively little influ- 
 ence or importance in the general story of European lit- 
 erature, and their relative value will never increase. 
 
 This may not be due chiefly to the depressing effect of 
 a Tiberius, or a Domitian, on individual genius. The 
 Roman or Latin type of man had accomplished his mission, 
 chiefly one of aggressive action and organization. He was 
 hardly holding his past conquests. National pride could 
 no longer spur to such heroic exploits in war or peace as 
 the epic poet celebrates. Rome was indeed rather cosmo- 
 politan than national : but humanity itself seemed for the 
 time to have no inspiring ideals, no goal of action, save 
 Stoical endurance, or Epicurean indulgence. 
 
 LUCAN 
 
 (39-65 A.D.) 
 
 In no epoch, even of Roman imperialism, does human 
 existence seem so like a mad maelstrom, as in the latter 
 years of Nero's reign. Few lives could better illustrate the 
 swift and utter shipwreck of a brilliant career than Lu- 
 
 260
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 261 
 
 can's. Marcus Annaeus Lucanns, the nepliew of Seneca, 
 naturally became from boyhood the personal intimate of 
 ^ , „ Nero. At the first Neronia, — athletic and 
 
 oo A.D, 
 
 musical contests in the young ruler's honor, 
 — Lucan delivered a panegyric on his master, to whom the 
 first prizes in music and eloquence were assigned without 
 competition. As a poet Nero was no less imperiously 
 ambitious. Whether the verses ascribed to him were really 
 
 Suetonius, Nero, ^^^^ ^^^' ^^ Contributed by various obsequious 
 
 $ sa. courtiers, is a point on which Suetonius and 
 
 Tacitus, Annates, Tacitus, our chief authorities, apparently 
 
 disagree. 
 
 The horrors of Nero's later reign began about this time 
 
 ^ Q with the assassination of his mother, Agrip- 
 
 pina, and the death, probably the murder, of 
 
 *^ A.D. the sturdy prefect. Burr us, who had dared to 
 
 say, " If you insist on divorcing Claudius's 
 
 daughter, at least give back first her dowry: the empire." 
 
 Whether such a tyrant showed active jealousy or cold 
 
 indifference to Lucan's popular recitations and rising fame, 
 
 is again disputable. One may well have been the mask of 
 
 the other. That the young poet, forbidden to read again 
 
 in public, was bitterly enraged, and at last actually drawn 
 
 into Piso's plot, is more easily believed than 
 
 his uncle's complicity in the same mad 
 
 scheme. Lucan took, indeed, a most prominent and open 
 
 part. Yet when the exposure came, he made frantic 
 
 efforts to save his forfeited life, even denouncing as a con- 
 
 Suetonius, Life spirator his innocent mother, in the hope 
 
 oi Lucan. ^hat this would appeal to the sympathy of 
 
 a matricide ! 
 
 Lucan's extant " Pharsalia," or '' De Bello Civili," an 
 ^ epic account of the civil war between Pompev 
 
 Phars.,!., 33-36. , ^ ^ ^ 
 
 and Caesar, seems consistent with this strange 
 biography. The first book contains a passage of most
 
 262 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 fulsome adulation on the young emperor. In the later 
 portions hatred of tyranny is more and more boldly ex- 
 pressed. The first three books of the epic, 
 begun in 60 A.D., had been published with 
 Nero's approval : the other seven were found in MS. after 
 the author's death. 
 
 It is remarkable, however, that Lucan's preference for 
 Pompey, his aversion for the great Julius as the author of 
 all the subsequent evils of Rome, is clearly shown from the 
 first, though far more fiercely and boldly expressed in later 
 passages. Lucan is no less incensed, moreover, with the 
 divine government of the world. It is a correct instinct 
 that has preserved in the popular mind his one most 
 audacious, perhaps impious, but magnificent verse : 
 
 "Dearer the victor's cause to the gods: but to Cato the 
 vanquished." 
 
 The great length and prominence of the speeches marks 
 the declamatory taste of the age and of the poet. Cicero 
 is even introduced, before the battle, urging Pompey to 
 vigorous action by a long harangue which he certainly 
 never delivered. Lucan sees nothing good in Caesar, little 
 save the noblest heroic qualities in Pompey, We cannot, 
 then, regard the poet as a safe witness, even, to the facts 
 of recent history. Fair-minded Livy had been called a 
 *' Pompeian " in half-serious banter ; but we may be sure 
 Lucan's account is no true reflection of the historian's lost 
 books. 
 
 This crude passionate young poet has some exceptional 
 powers, but they are chiefly employed in strenuous special 
 pleading for a bad political cause, or in the lurid descrip- 
 tion of horrors, on desert march or battlefield, or even in 
 remote digressions into myth and earlier his- 
 tory. Quintilian well calls him " a model 
 for orators rather than for poets."
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 263 
 
 SILIUS ITALICUS 
 (26-101 A.D.) 
 
 Very different was the long career of Silius Italicns, 
 which is sufficiently outlined, at the time of his death, by 
 a letter from the younger Pliny. Though 
 ^' " ' high in office, and even notorious as an in- 
 former {delator) at the end of Nero's career, he safely 
 outlived all the three Flavian emperors, acquired eagerly 
 vast estates in Campania, which included a 
 a la , X ., . £^j,jj^gy Y\][^ of Cicero and the bnrial-place 
 
 of Virgil — and ended his own life voluntarily and cheerily 
 at last by starvation, to escape an incurable disease. The 
 most gracious act recorded of him is that he habitually 
 celebrated Virgil's birthday far more elaborately than his 
 own, usually making a pilgrimage to his tomb at Naples 
 as if to a shrine. There is a hint of weariness in Pliny's 
 courteous words : " He composed verses with more energy 
 than genius. Sometimes he tested men's opinions of them 
 by recitations." 
 
 The chief result of this energy is extant, in over twelve 
 thousand lines on the struggle between Carthage and 
 Rome. Though the seventeen books may seem a rather 
 wilful number, the tale is clearly completed, with the vic- 
 tory of Zama and the triumphant home return of Scipio. 
 
 To the traditional Roman annals Silius has carefully 
 added at every stage the Olympian machinery, Juno espe- 
 cially guiding the Carthaginians, Venus aiding the de- 
 scendants of her beloved iEneas. We find little indeed 
 of true and original poetry, not even the audacity and 
 glaring faults of Lucan ; but at every turn servile imitation 
 of earlier poetry, above all of the Jilneid, and, through it, 
 of the Homeric poems. Sometimes these 
 
 xlH-. 395-894. , U1J-11 
 
 echoes grow childishly naive, or wearisome, 
 as when Scipio, in defiance of all history or tradition.
 
 264 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 is described as descending, like ^neas, througli Avernus to 
 the under-world, to learn his high future destiny. Again 
 Siiius ii., 395- Hannibal's shield, though but the gift and 
 
 452. cf . /Cneid, handiwork of mortals, is described almost as 
 smusin^*^ carefully as Vulcan's masterpiece. A proph- 
 
 ff. cf. /Eneid, ecy of Jiipitcr to Venus as to the future of 
 
 i.,as7;ni.,6o7.j^Qjj^g enables the poet to eulogize the Fla- 
 vian emperors, most of all tlie atrocious tyrant Domitian, 
 who was then near his end. The close of Book XIV., 
 however, is supposed to allude to Nerva as him " who now 
 hath given peace unto the world." 
 
 This patriotic and martial subject is one which had once 
 appealed mightily to Roman pride, having been treated by 
 Supra, pp. 26 NsBvius, and by Ennius also, at the very be- 
 
 and34. ginning of literary activity in Latium. It 
 
 will serve as a reminder, Avhich may well be needed, that 
 this is still the race and land of the Scipios, the Fabii, and 
 the Marcelli. 
 
 VALERIUS FLACCUS 
 
 Distinctly more readable, not wholly on account of its 
 relative brevity, is Flaccus's, " Argonautica," now extant, 
 but not complete, in eight books. Of the author's life hardly 
 anything is known. In his opening verses he dedicates his 
 poem cleverly to the reigning Vespasian, who by his expe- 
 dition to Britain has won a higher fame than Jason's for 
 opening up alien seas. The emperor's younger son Domi- 
 tian had then poetic ambitions, and it is prophesied hat 
 he will glorify in verse his brother Titus, who is even now 
 hurling firebrands at the walls of Jerusalem. This seems 
 to point clearly to 70 A.D., while the later books, contain- 
 ing repeated allusions to the eruption of Vesuvius, must 
 be composed after 79. Quintilian, writing 
 
 Quint. x.,i., 90. , , ^. . , . 
 
 about 90 A.D., expresses regret over his 
 friend's recent death. Whether the poem was left unfin-
 
 ROMAN SOLDIERS CARRYING THE GOLDEJS' CANDLESTICK FROM 
 
 THE TEMPLE AT JERUSALEM. 
 
 Relief from tlio arch of Titus.
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 265 
 
 ished, or is merely mntilated in the MSS., is still debated. 
 It breaks off at a critical pointy, when Medea's brother has 
 just overtaken the fleeing Argonauts, and a sea-fight is in 
 immediate prospect. 
 
 This work must be studied, if at all, in connection with 
 the Greek " Argonautica" of the Alexandrian poet Apol- 
 lonios Rhodios, which had been rendered, apparently with 
 fidelity, into Latin also. Though less graceful in the details 
 of style, the Roman poet often imj)roves on his model in 
 plot, succeeding, in particular, in giving to Jason far more 
 action such as befits a commander and hero-in-chief. Yet 
 William Morris's "Life and Death of Jason" may outlive 
 both the classic poems. A phrase of Homer, mentioning 
 the "Argo, to all men familiar," gives us the impression 
 that this subject was rather hackneyed even in his day. 
 The three poems here mentioned, not to speak of others in 
 a hundred languages, may remind us how perennial is the 
 vitality of the great Hellenic myths. 
 
 STATIUS 
 45-96 A.D.(?). 
 
 Though spent wholly under the terrible Domitian, this 
 is a real literary career. Statins appears to have been not 
 merely by profession but by inheritance a scholar and a 
 siivse, v., 3. poet. His father is most filially described as 
 the master of a flourishing school of litera- 
 ture and rhetoric in Naples. There the youth from many 
 Italian lands not only conned their Homer, 
 
 " Learning how Ilium fell, or the long delay of Ulysses," 
 
 but mastered every notable Greek poet, from the " old 
 Ascrsean," Hesiod, to Sophron the mime, or the learned 
 Alexandrians. This father himself sang the burning of 
 the capital in 69 a.d., and, as Dante says of the son, on
 
 266 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 the way sank with a second burden, also of contemporary 
 interest, viz., the eruption of Vesnvins in 79. It was 
 under this paternal advice and counsel that the son, Pub- 
 lius Papinius Statins, toiled for twelve years on his pon- 
 derous, learned, rhetorical, unreadable mas- 
 
 80-93 (?) A.D. • - 1 mi U • J 
 
 terpiece, the Thebaid. 
 
 The subject had been treated in early Greek epic, not 
 in one poem, but in three. So Aischylos wrought the tale 
 of Laios, of Oidipus, and of his quarrelling sons, into three 
 tragedies, linked together by the hereditary curse. Soph- 
 ocles in "Antigone" and either "Oidipus," Euripides 
 or Koman Seneca in the " Phcenissse," attempted single 
 episodes only. The subject, then, lacked adequate unity. 
 Even more utterly than the Argo's voyage did it lack, also, 
 any shadow of application or vital interest for Statius's age 
 and land. Yet in that century, and in others since, espe- 
 cially while Greek was unknown in Western Europe, and 
 declamatory rhetoric could be mistaken for true poetry, 
 Statius's epic was a text-book, and a general favorite. 
 
 The issue of the single books gave him fame, and a cer- 
 tain degree of court favor. Martial, himself a needy ad- 
 venturer, pays Statius the eloquent tribute of jealous silence. 
 Juvenal mentions the fashionable rush when the author's 
 readings from the Thebaid are posted, but adds sourly : 
 
 " Yet doth he starve, if he sell not to Paris his virgin 
 'Agave.' " 
 
 This refers to a commission to write a mime for the favor- 
 ite actor. 
 
 After a disappointment, curiously like Tasso's, a failure 
 to win the poet's crown in a competitive contest, Statius re- 
 tired to Naples, and in his last years composed his Achilleis. 
 Though incomplete, it is a far more adequate fragment than, 
 e.g., Goethe's, and also shows distinct advance toward true 
 poetic taste. Indeed, as an idyll, or miniature epic, his
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 267 
 
 account of the boy Achilles's stay in Skyros might well be 
 perused again in our colleges. The story of Odysseus's 
 coming, of his detection of the youth who, though dis- 
 guised as a girl among girls, prefers arms to trinkets when 
 gifts are chosen, — all this is clearly paralleled in a striking 
 Pompeian wall-painting, which may well be a rough 
 replica of some great masterpiece like Polygnotos's in the 
 Athenian Propylaia. The incident, then, is by no means 
 of Statius's invention. Doubtless, Sophocles's lost " Sky- 
 rians" set it forth infinitely better. But once again 
 the chance of survival has favored the coarser Koman 
 copy. 
 
 In comparison with these labored works. Statins himself 
 disdained his " SilvaB " or occasional poems, thrown off in 
 haste, and at amazing speed, upon the demand of any 
 court favorite. Yet it is in them that we find him a poet. 
 The occasions are indeed often ignoble. The savage em- 
 peror, a Greek freedman of the palace, or any other suc- 
 cessful adventurer, even a boy pet or page, could set this 
 nimble quill in motion. A curious tree, a statue, a sump- 
 tuous villa, must have its memorial verse. An elegy is 
 due for a page, a parrot, a lion. Statins is ready, per- 
 force. 
 
 When the favorite eunuch orders verses on his own curly 
 locks, dedicated and sent to an Oriental shrine. Statins 
 grows aweary of this mad world — and the next poem is a 
 tender plea to his Koman wife to share his retreat in saner, 
 quieter Naples. Of the thirty-two poems in the "Silvae" 
 one might choose this, the birthday ode, in hendecasyllables, 
 for Lucan's anniversary, and a pathetic appeal of the wake- 
 ful poet to Somnus, for an anthology of sincere and pure 
 Latin verse. Yet the others also abound in truthful 
 local color and natural feeling. Perhaps the appeal to 
 Somnus is unique in its combination of classic form and 
 imagery with a universal human need.
 
 268 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 _,, ^ ^ _ " Seven times hath Phoebe looked on me 
 
 13. Languisliing, and the stars of eve and morn 
 
 Their lamps relit : while heedless of my pain 
 Tithonia passes in half-pitying scorn, 
 Nor lays her cooling touch upon my brain. 
 
 Were I as Argus, and my thousand eyes 
 Alternate veiled, nor ever all awake, 
 'Twere well." 
 
 Every tired brain and tlirobbing heart the world over, to the 
 end of time, can share the hope that a moment's restful un- 
 consciousness came swiftly to the eyes that could not be 
 
 " Wholly enfolded by Sleep's downy wings : 
 This let the vulgar throng, more happy, crave." 
 
 By a curious fate, however, Statius's best chance of im- 
 mortal fame comes through a bold fiction of a far greater 
 Italian poet a thousand years later. Most students of 
 Dante feel that tlie'^ Commedia" grew and widened with the 
 wandering exile's years, and is full of happy afterthoughts. 
 Statins is not mentioned with the other Roman poets who 
 are Virgil's companions in Limbo. Lonsr 
 
 Inferno, Iv. . . • 1 t^ 
 
 after, in composing the " Purgatorio, Dante 
 repairs the omission. But, if met on the mountain of 
 purification, Statins, according to Dante's creed, must have 
 been in his lifetime converted and duly baptized. There 
 is no authority known for any such statement : yet none 
 can regret the passage where Statins assures Virgil that 
 the prophetic words of the Fourth Eclogue had set him on 
 the quest that led to truth and salvation. 
 
 " Thou didst as he that walketh in the night, 
 
 ''67-6*r'"' *""■' ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^'^ ^^S^^* behind, which helps him 
 
 not, 
 But wary makes the persons after him 
 
 . Through thee I poet was, through 
 '•*'**•• ^3- thee a Christian. ' '
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 269 
 
 It may at first thought seem quite possible, that Statius 
 was a timid and secret convert to Christianity. It is, how- 
 ever, highly improbable, as was noted as to Seneca : and 
 there was not even, in the poet's case, any such late-in- 
 vented tradition, like the spurious correspondence between 
 the philosopher and St. Paul. The " Epistle to the Ro- 
 mans " appears to be addressed to a little circle of Greeks 
 and of Jews who may often have borne Greek names. Such 
 folk often attained in Eome the utmost influence, as we 
 have seen : but whether slaves or freedmen, their nominal 
 position was still servile, though they might serve in 
 *^ Caesar's household," and be close to the emperor's ear. 
 But the haughty indifference of Gallio is typical, for at 
 least the first century, of the Roman attitude toward nearly 
 all Oriental peoples and creeds. Even the famous persecu- 
 tions by Nero and Domitian may have included the Chris- 
 tians under the larger, far more familiar, and detested name 
 of Hebrews. In Pliny's letters to Trajan we have for the 
 first time a fairly intelligent account of the new sect. In 
 the "Commedia" itself it is remarked, that Statius's epics 
 are full of the Olympian theology. We have not the least 
 right to imagine that Dante had before him any recorded 
 tradition of the Roman poet's conversion. 
 
 EPILOGUE AND PROLOGUE 
 
 With statius we are already amid the last notable group 
 of Latin authors whom we can fairly call classical. There 
 are at least five literary men of his generation who are 
 masters, each in his own field and style. At first thought 
 it may seem contradictory to insist that such an age of 
 letters is a decadent one. 
 
 But we must remember that the metropolis received con- 
 stant tribute of fresh, ambitious young life from all lands. 
 Not merely did Hellas, Judaea, the remoter Orient, pour
 
 270 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 into Kome the treasures of its culture, poetry, myth, 
 theology, and mystical lore. From Spain, alone, came 
 Seneca, Lucan, Quintilian, Martial, and many another. 
 Some, but not all, of these provincials were of Italian descent 
 or speech. The wonder is, that the literature founded by 
 Oscan Ennius and African Terence held so long, in form 
 and largely in substance, to the austerer Grseco-Eoman or 
 classical tradition. It is not at all strange that, with Apu- 
 leius, there comes at last the sudden and decisive break. 
 Silver Latin, then, is written chiefly by aliens. Forced 
 into Latin utterance, set before a Eoman audience, these 
 men cast a certain splendor even over Nero's or Domitian's 
 day. 
 
 Yet we are far indeed from the fresh dawn. Of heroic 
 epic, Attic drama, Platonic philosophy and ethic, the epoch 
 of Seneca and Statins could furnish but a turgid travesty. 
 It is not an age of noble deeds, of creative imagination, of 
 joyous expression, but a time of superabundant intellectual 
 stimulus and culture, of cynical unbelief to the verge of 
 despair, of clever, keen-pointed rhetoric. 
 
 These five great masters — to whom the Statins of the 
 " Silvse " might be added — whose works are still indispen- 
 sable to every serious Latin student, are alike in this : they 
 make no attempt to idealize their own century : they offer 
 us a truthful but disconsolate picture. Their works may be 
 perused with profit by mature men and women, who al- 
 ready know life, and know themselves. Youth should be 
 chiefly nourished on the loftier, or at least happier, utter- 
 ances of ruder ages and more hopeful folk. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The epic poets here mentioned are rarely read, either in English or 
 Latin. Every serious student of the classics should at least have on 
 his shelf the handy, legible, and inexpensive Teubner texts. The " Ar- 
 gonautica" is edited by Bahrens, who not only treats his text with un- 
 wonted reverence, but adds a full list of Virgilian passages imitated.
 
 THE EPIC POETRY 271 
 
 Lucan is discussed in interesting fashion by Merivale, in his " His- 
 tory of the Roman Empire." He appears as a minor character in Sin- 
 kiewicz's romance "Quo Vadis." The "standard translation" of the 
 Pharsalia by Rowe is warmly praised in the Britannica. The version 
 of the Thebaid, Book I., by Pope as a boy of twelve, is a most preco- 
 cious exploit, even if he did " retouch " it later. Some delightful 
 renderings from the " Silvae " by Miss H. W. Preston were made for the 
 Warner " Library " : the citation of one in this chapter (p. 268) is in 
 slightly changed form. 
 
 There is a scholarly edition of the " Silvae " by Markland, and Heit- 
 land has made a tiny edition of the "Pharsalia," Book I. The other 
 two epics have been strikingly neglected by English scholars.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 MARTIAL AND JUVENAL 
 
 MARTIAL 
 41-104 A.D. (?) 
 
 Marcus Valerius Martialis, chief of Roman wits, 
 author of more successful epigrams than any other Euro- 
 pean versifier, was born at Bilbilis, a little town set pict- 
 uresquely on a Spanish hill-crest, over a swift, cold stream, 
 the Salo. ''Sprung from Iberians and Celts," he says re- 
 peatedly of himself. Good Latin schools were naturally 
 accessible in the native land of Quintilian and the Senecas. 
 Cf. supra., pp. Indeed, there is felt again at this epoch, in 
 
 "4-'s- Spain, the same mighty stimulus, given by 
 
 Roman culture to intellectual life, as in another Celtic 
 region, the Transpadane provinces, in the time of Catullus, 
 Virgil, and Livy. 
 
 Just what eddy of the world-wide social whirlpool landed 
 the clever, ambitious youth in Rome we need not ask. 
 There, for thirty-four years, he practised all 
 the arts of the needy adventurer, the obse. 
 quious client, the courtier of a Nero and a Domitian, and 
 of their villanous favorites. To shiver in the early dawn 
 at a haughty patron's gate, to dine on coarser food below 
 the salt, to accept petty gifts with extravagant thanks, or 
 even to wheedle for them in vain, was his year-long voca- 
 tion. That he knew Rome perfectly, indeed far too well, 
 will hardly be questioned. 
 
 His material rewards were curiously scanty, if we may 
 judge from his verses. He begs for anything, a fortune 
 
 373
 
 
 H 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 >5
 
 MARTIAL AKD JUVENAL 273 
 
 from the emperor, or a second-best toga from a friend : 
 but almost never does he return thanks. His little Sabine 
 farm, acquired we know not how, is barren and wretched. 
 The villa, he declares, has not even a tight roof over it. 
 His town lodging is in a fourth story, a garret. Later he 
 has a small city house of his own, and a mule-team. Yet 
 when he finally gives up the struggle and retires to Bil- 
 Piiny, Epist., bilis, the kindly, patronizing Pliny has to 
 Hi., 31, furnish the viaticum. 
 
 Yet Martial had hosts of friends, among the more pros- 
 perous literary men and the great nobles. He had even 
 been a guest at Domitian's table. He seems never to have 
 married. It would appear certain, then, that his failure to 
 gather a competence was due to some form of extravagance 
 or vicious waste. One can hardly accept his assertion, 
 
 *' My page is frolicsome, my life unstained." 
 Certainly he attained promptly, and held for many years, 
 the highest popularity as an author. 
 
 Martial's poems are extremely brief, and almost invari- 
 ably " occasional." They are usually in elegiac couplet or 
 hendecasyllables. Doubtless he wrote busily all his life, 
 though his collected verses began to appear rather late. 
 When Titus dedicated the Flavian ampitheatre, our " Coli- 
 seum," with splendid pageants and contests. 
 Martial described the games in a series of 
 elegiac poems, now incompletely preserved. These courtly 
 studies have rarely the final epigrammatic whip-snap of 
 his later efforts. He seems sincerely impressed with the 
 greatness of the empire. 
 
 " LJber Spectac- " Where is a land so distant, a race so barbar- 
 
 ulorum," Hi., ous, Csesar, 
 
 i-a, ii-ia. Whence in thy city to-day no spectator ap- 
 
 pears ? 
 Various soundeth the speech of the people, yet truly united, 
 
 Since of the fatherland thou rightly the father art named."
 
 274 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 Four years later Martial published the singular work, 
 or pair of works, now known as Book XIII. (Xenia) and 
 XIV. (Apophoreta) of his great collection. 
 '* " ' Each poem is a mere couplet, to accompany 
 
 a present at the time of the Saturnalia. The book of 
 Apophoreta contains paired poems, one for the rich patron, 
 the other to accompany the humbler return-gift of the 
 client. The one hundred and twenty-seven Xenia are nearly 
 all for presents of dainty foods or spices, and give a lively 
 glimpse at imperial luxury. Even here the courtier is 
 often seen. 
 
 A PARROT 
 
 ** Now in the names of many shall I by you be instructed. 
 ' Hail, O Caesar ! ' to cry, — this by myself have I learned. " 
 
 INCENSE 
 
 "Praying that late may Germanicus pass to be monarch of 
 Heaven, 
 Long that on earth he may rule, — offer this incense to 
 Jove." 
 
 The implied supremacy of Domitian over Jupiter is a com- 
 monplace of Roman flattery. 
 
 The twelve volumes of real epigrams appeared later, in 
 rapid succession. The prose preface to the first book an- 
 nounces that the poet writes not for Cato, 
 but for such as enjoy the mimes at the Flora- 
 lia, or merry May-day festival. He names Catullus among 
 his masters, yet anxiously denies that he attacks, even un- 
 der substituted names, any real persons. The first epi- 
 gram announces : 
 
 " This is he that you read and ask again for, 
 Martial, famous in every land or nation." 
 
 Though possibly prefixed to a second edition, this was, no 
 doubt, simple truth. Martial has no undue vanity. Hy-
 
 MARTIAL AKD JUVENAL 275 
 
 pocrisy is the one trait at which he waxes indignant. No 
 man could be less of a Puritan. He sees the ludicrous 
 keenly, of course, but he is rarely even satirical, much less 
 does he preach, at sinner or sin. Even when at times he 
 wearies of Vanity Fair, he pretends to no lofty aspirations. 
 Perhaps his frankest utterance of his wishes, though the 
 original is in the jerky, eleven-syllable verse that always 
 makes the stately Roman words seems whimsical, may be 
 thus paraphrased. 
 
 * ' The things which render life more blest are 
 *-"*^* these: 
 
 Wealth as a heritage, not won by toil, 
 
 A fertile farm, one hearth the whole year through, 
 
 No strife, a tranquil spirit, coatless ease, 
 
 Vigorous muscles in a healthy frame, 
 
 Informal social ties and simple fare, 
 
 Suppers that cheer but not intoxicate, 
 
 A modest yet a fond and willing wife, 
 
 Sleep such as makes the hours of darkness brief, 
 
 — Perfect contentment with that which we are, 
 
 Without desire, or terror, for the End. ' ' 
 
 Such are Martial's best tones. Direct advertisement of, 
 e.g., a patron's baths, blackmail, or something very like it, 
 above all loving, lingering details of every foulest vice, 
 we meet all too often on these sprightly pages. The man 
 who receives his praise, and fails to pay well for it, is 
 frankly stigmatized as a cheat. He will even 
 v., 3 , V .,1 . -^^^ ^ benefactor to buy back his own gifts. 
 
 Virtues he had, also : loyalty to friends humble or lofty, 
 kindness to slaves, to children, and to the helpless gener- 
 ally, and last, like the Senecas, a yearning homesickness, 
 that actually brought him back to his birthplace at the end. 
 That he found Nerva and Trajan cold to his flatteries is 
 natural. But it is by no means certain that he tried to win 
 them by assailing the memory of Domitian, That final
 
 276 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 charge of meanness depends on a couplet quoted by a scho- 
 liast on Juvenal, interpreted, and assigned to Martial, only 
 on that scholiast's assertion. 
 
 At Bilbilis a wealthy lady, Marcella, gave him a really 
 beautiful estate. He assures her that she herself replaces 
 Eome to him. Yet the whole tone seems far too deferen- 
 tial for a lover or husband : it is more likly that he had 
 found at last an ideal patroness. 
 
 There, too, he grew restless, eager for the excitement, the 
 stimulus, the comradeship, even the hollow and heartless 
 splendor, of the world-city. Envy crept into his Paradise. 
 Yet he was doubtless glad to grow old, in peace, at home. 
 
 With a good- will in which respect is hardly mingled, we 
 may repeat over Martial's grave the sentiment of the line 
 he had once composed for a pretty slave-girl and dancer : 
 
 " Light lie upon her, O earth : lightly on you did she tread." 
 
 Of dignity, not to mention noble aspiration, he has no 
 taste. The ideals even of sensuous beauty, which Ovid 
 could still see and portray, are almost vanished. Yet Mar- 
 tial at least saw his own environment clearly and accurately. 
 He set down with little malice, in swift, light outlines, just 
 what he saw. The wit of antithesis, of grotesquerie, even 
 of delicate humor, sweetens nearly every page. Of tlie 
 twelve hundred epigrams in his twelve chief books, per- 
 haps one-sixth should be effaced forever from human mem- 
 ory. The rest offer a picture quite ignoble enough, and as 
 accurate as could well be, of Domitian's Rome. 
 
 JUVENAL 
 
 Of this author's life hardly any thing is positively known. 
 Between Juvenal and Martial there is, after all, but one im- 
 portant link : they both give us vivid pictures of the same 
 age. Juvenal, however, lives in the security of a later
 
 MARTIAL AND JUVENAL 277 
 
 time, while he describes Domitian's terrible days. After 
 wide experience, already past middle life, he writes with 
 the bitterness of a disappointed old man. The satires are 
 to be divided into five books, which appear to have been 
 composed and published in regular chronological succes- 
 sion, under Trajan and Hadrjan. The poet is supposed to 
 have lived till past eighty, and to have died in the reign 
 of Antoninus. 
 
 Juvenal mentions no living folk : a prudent limitation. 
 His sermons, moreover, ring far less sincere than Seneca's. 
 Like Seneca also, especially in the powerful and savage 
 Sixth Satire, aimed at the vices of women, he dwells with 
 a certain enjoyment on the coarsest details. It really 
 seems incredible, that this fiercest of all tirades against 
 women is addressed to a friend about to marry. It is 
 amusing to notice that the athletic woman, and yet more 
 the learned blue-stocking, are quite as obnoxious as their 
 murderous or vicious sisters. 
 
 The impression is constantly given, in this and most 
 of the early satires, that Juvenal is more anxious to be 
 piquant, picturesque, thrilling, than to draw a truthful 
 sketch. In the weaving of a social history of the em- 
 pire, then, his fierce, heavy satires do not compare in 
 importance with Martial's winged epigrams. 
 
 Yet Juvenal's style is a powerful weapon. His phrases 
 have a way of stamping themselves indelibly on the mem- 
 ory of mankind. Me7is scna in corpore sano needs no 
 translation. A sermon, clinched with an epigrammatic 
 antithesis, is perfectly packed into two verses : 
 
 " Count it the greatest of sins, to prefer existence to honor, 
 And, for the sake of life, to lose all reason for living." 
 
 A shrewd commonplace and a complete picture are set be- 
 fore us in a single line, 
 
 "Empty-handed, a traveller sings in the face of the robber."
 
 278 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 Perhaps the severest criticism to be made on Jnvenal is 
 precisely this, that lie is so quotable. His best passages 
 are quite as effective alone. His satires rarely have any 
 natural beginning or end, any artistic unity. His influ- 
 ence has been greatly increased, no doubt, by the bitter 
 disapproval, the austere aloofness from which he gazes, 
 with us as it were, upon his degenerate and ignoble time. 
 This has made his volume a storehouse of weapons for 
 the Christian preacher in every age. Persius is herein 
 somewhat like him, but Juvenal has the advantage of 
 mature experience, of a knowledge almost as intimate and 
 detailed as Martial's. 
 
 The best-known satires of Juvenal are no doubt the two 
 imitated by Dr. Johnson in his "London "and *' Vanity 
 Juvenal, ill. and of Human Wislics." The description of 
 
 ^- Kome — or London, as Dr. Johnson recasts 
 
 it — in the former piece, leaves a decidedly encouraged feel- 
 ing, at least as to the physical cleanliness, comfort, and 
 safety of modern cities. The complaints against fierce 
 competition, favoritism, the poverty of the honest man, 
 still sound familiar. A better unity than usual is attained 
 by the mention of the upright Umbricius, whose departure 
 from the city for Oumae is announced at the beginning, 
 and occurs at the close. 
 
 The Tenth Satire is the most moderate in tone, the larg- 
 est in outlook. The illustrations are gathered from a wide 
 field, Hannibal, even Priam, appearing beside Cicero and 
 Sejanus. In preaching against vain ambition, praising 
 moderation, and contentment, Juvenal approaches much 
 nearer than usual the calm level of Horace. 
 
 Oftener his strenuous, shrill tones, his lurid colorings, 
 leave us unsympathetic and cold from their very extrava- 
 gance. Yet in the thirteenth poem the futility of revenge, 
 the torture of remorse, the consciousness of sin, are so 
 painted as to justify the surmise that Juvenal was familiar
 
 MAKTIAL AND JUVENAL 279 
 
 with Christian ethics. In the fourteenth, again, the duties 
 of parents are earnestly set forth : above all, the reverence 
 due to childhood, the necessity of offering an example of 
 spotless purity. 
 
 In general, the later satires are calmer, better connected, 
 clearer in expression. We seem oftener to catch the sin- 
 cere natural tones of the man, not the high-pitched voice 
 of the declaimer. The learned German scholar Kibbeck, 
 indeed, insisted that these latter poems are greatly inferior 
 in merit, and clearly from another hand, not JuvenaFs at 
 all: but this theory is hardly defended now by anyone. 
 
 Almost any poem of Juvenal's, however, is depressing in 
 tone, difficult to follow in detail, ineffective as a whole. 
 He should be read by all, save specialists, in mere extracts 
 more or less sustained. In that form he has some claims 
 as a poet, but more as a prophet of a larger moral law, of 
 a better age than his people had known. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The chief commentator on Martial is the German scholar Fried- 
 lander, who has a most thorough edition in two volumes with German 
 notes. We may mention here also the same author's " Sittenge- 
 schichte Roms," to which the notes of his edition often refer. Martial 
 offers the best starting-point for a student who wishes to approach that 
 unsavory but important subject. Martial's works suffer nothing by 
 severe sifting, and Professor Sellar in his useful school edition even 
 omits lines from some single poems which he wished to include. Both 
 in the introduction to this text-book, and in the " Britannica," Sellar 
 made a tolerant, even an appreciative, study of Martial. 
 
 This author's epigrammatic terseness naturally appealed especially 
 to the age of Dryden, Pope, and Johnson. Teachers who desire to 
 supplement this too brief chapter will find in Bohn's Classical Library 
 a remarkably useful volume, giving not only a literal translation, but 
 a select verse rendering also, of every epigram that is fit to be read at 
 
 all. 
 
 The two poems of Dr. Johnson mentioned in the text are not trans- 
 lations, but in general plan and many details they imitate Juvenal's 
 Third and Tenth Satires. There are English translations of Juvenal in
 
 280 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 verse by Gifford, Hodgson, Badbam : none absolutely faithful in his 
 coarsest passages. Even Lewis's prose version softens the original 
 somewhat. This latter translation is combined with the Latin text, 
 and accompanied by a volume of useful notes. The monumental 
 edition by J. B. Mayor is exhaustive in all senses. Sellar's article in 
 the "Britannica," and Ramsay's in the Smith "Dictionary of Greek 
 and Roman Biography" are well known. But Juvenal is best under- 
 stood in connection with the general life of his time, for which we 
 may once more refer especially to Friedlander and Merivale. We 
 can hardly hope that the section of the venerable Professor Momm- 
 sen'a history on this period will ever appear.
 
 CHAPTEK XXXII 
 
 QUINTILIAN" 
 
 The three prominent authors of this epoch still to be 
 discussed all win our hearty admiration and regard. They 
 were thoroughly sane, shrewd, practical men, and all had 
 honorable, happy careers. Their productions, to be sure, 
 are at best merely in the border-land of creative art. Di- 
 verse as they are in many respects, each attained a remark- 
 ably effective, finished, and suitable prose style. To them, 
 indeed, Latin owes largely its extraordinary vitality and 
 influence, still exerted through the Eomance languages, 
 and through our own English speech, as well as directly, 
 on the forms of literary taste. 
 
 Quintilian is in one respect even more notable than 
 Pliny or Tacitus : for his useful career was rounded out, 
 and his chief work published, amid the reign of terror 
 in Domitian's last years. Indeed, the one or two pages of 
 his that cause us serious regret are his eulogies of the 
 Quint., institut., " most lioly ccnsor," "the prince most emi- 
 iv.. Prologue, ^lent in eloquence as in all else," that " god 
 than whom none is more present or helpful to effort," etc., 
 etc. Such words doubtless seemed a necessary price to pay 
 for safety and prosperity in the year 95 a. d. Yet we may 
 be sure that a twelvemonth later Quintilian bitterly re- 
 gretted that it was too late to cancel the passage, and to 
 dedicate his great woi'k, in more temperate and sincere 
 terms, to Nerva or Trajan. 
 
 Marcus Fabius Quintilianus, of humble Spanish birth, 
 was by profession, and even by heredity, a teacher of rhet- 
 
 281
 
 282 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 oric and oratory. After studying with the best masters 
 at Rome, he retired, in Nero's worst days, to Spain, but came 
 back to the capital in Galba's train, and there remained. 
 Under Vespasian, he, first of the rhetors, received a regu- 
 lar and liberal salary from the emperor. After twenty 
 years' service at the head of his flourishing school, he 
 retired from regular teaching, and soon de- 
 voted himself to the composition of his chief 
 work, '* Institutiones Oratoriae," or The Education of the 
 Orator. 
 
 The outburst of gratitude quoted above was occasioned 
 by his appointment as tutor to the Emperor Domitian's 
 grand-nephews. We hear that he was even 
 brevetted to consular rank. Such an eleva- 
 tion of a school-master can hardly have pleased even the 
 cowed and decimated nobility of that day, but no one 
 seems to have envied his prosperity. Pliny was his grate- 
 ful pupil. Martial's apostrophe 
 
 " O Quintilian, restless youth's most eminent ruler, 
 O Quintilian, thou pride of the toga of Rome," 
 
 seems playfully affectionate rather than obsequious. We 
 have quoted under Statins from the querulous 
 Seventh Satire of Juvenal, on the meagre 
 rewards doled out by wealthy patrons to literary genius. 
 Quintilian is there made the typical if not the unique ex- 
 ception, but there is no bitterness, unless the repeated al- 
 lusions to his good fortune may intimate a lack of supe- 
 rior merit. 
 
 " . . . Fortunate, venturesome, handsome, 
 Fortunate, truly, and wise, and noble. . . . 
 Lucky indeed is the man, and than a white crow is he rarer," 
 
 The mature orator's girl-wife had died at nineteen. One 
 of her boys lived to be five, the other ten. The heart-
 
 QUINTILIAN" 283 
 
 broken preface to Book VI. , written when the last blow had 
 just fallen, reminds us of Emerson's "Threnody." There 
 is a peculiar pathos when the orator and classical scholar 
 notes the dead child's "clearness of voice, sweetness of tone, 
 and a peculiar facility in sounding every letter in either 
 language. . . . What good parent could forgive me, 
 if I could go calmly on with my studies? " 
 
 Quintilian has by no means left us a mere manual of 
 technical rhetoric. Following Cicero, in this as in all else. 
 Book I., Preface, most reverently, he would have his orator 
 9-IO. gj-g^ a good man, a useful citizen, a states- 
 
 man, a scholar, even a philosopher. The education of the 
 future pleader is begun in the cradle, with excellent re- 
 marks on nurses. He should be sent early to school, largely 
 to remove him from the vicious indulgences of home life in 
 Roman palaces. " Every dining-room rings with impure 
 songs. Things shameful to be told are the objects of sight. 
 . . . What will he not expect in after years who has 
 crept upon the purple ?" The liberal provision of " ped- 
 agogues " and other attendants recalls how cheaply even 
 Greek philosophers could be either hired or bought in the 
 great metropolis. 
 
 The first and second of the twelve books are full of hu- 
 mane observations on childhood, and wise hints on primary 
 education. If we wonder that the infants are 
 given ivory letters for playthings, we must re- 
 member that both their languages were rationally phonetic : 
 and "saying the alphabet" is expressly condemned. The 
 author approves what was then habitual, to have the boy 
 learn first to speak Greek, but thinks the use of the mother- 
 tongue has been delayed too late, a fashion which has Hel- 
 lenized the pronunciation and idiom of fashionable Eome. 
 On emulation among ambitious boys, competitive tests, 
 discovery and encouragement of individual talents, corporal 
 punishment — which he condemns as slavish — and a hun-
 
 284 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 dred other topics, Quintilian has words thut still deserve 
 to be weighed carefully by every student of pedagogy. 
 
 Of almost unique interest is the Tenth Book, in which 
 all the best authors, as Quintiliau accounts them, of Greek 
 and Latin literature, including many not now extant, are 
 passed in thouglitful review. Indeed, Quintilian may well 
 be counted among the sanest of literary critics. Even his 
 brief remarks are models of method and form, as where in a 
 curt antithesis he says of the two greatest orators : " From 
 Demosthenes nothing can be taken away, to Cicero nothing 
 can be added." An epigram of Martial could no«t have 
 passed a better judgment on Cicero's flippant correspond- 
 ent, Cselius Rufus : " A man of much ability and pleasant 
 wit, worthy to have had longer life and nobler thoughts." 
 
 Quintilian insists that we must begin with Homer, 
 
 * ' From whom all river-streams, and every sea, 
 All sources, and the mighty fountains flow! " 
 
 This large appreciation gives assurance of our author's 
 superiority to the ordinary taste of his time. He remarks 
 impressively on the masterful knowledge of persuasive rhet- 
 oric shown, e.g., in the great speeches of Iliad IX. Eurip- 
 ides and Menander, for similar reasons, win the critic's 
 warmest sympathy. Menander, it may be noted, is the 
 only Hellenic author, here named as the best in his kind, 
 who is wholly lost. 
 
 With all his national loyalty, Quintilian frankly con- 
 fesses the superior genius of the Greeks, placing Virgil 
 second to Homer, remarking that " we scarcely attain a 
 faint image of Greek comedy," and crediting Plato with 
 superhuman inspiration. The extravagant eulogy on Sal- 
 lust has been cited. In history, indeed, as in elegy, he 
 feels that Rome holds its own, while "Satire certainly is 
 wholly ours."
 
 QUINTILIAN 285 
 
 In this review of Graeco-Roman letters we must bear con- 
 stantly in mind that a rhetorician is calling attention to 
 those authors and works which are most useful to students 
 of his own art. It is instructive to note that he looks hack, 
 already, upon Virgil and Cicero no less than upon De- 
 mosthenes and Homer, as classic models. That is, the 
 philosophic critic sees that he stands on the confines of 
 his epoch. 
 
 The one grave blot is again an extravagant and utterly 
 incongruous eulogy of Domitian's youthful attempts in 
 verse. Elsewhere, though courteous to the living, he evi- 
 dently recognizes the decadence of literature. This is most 
 clearly seen in his careful closing discussion of Seneca, who 
 at one time "had been almost the only writer in the hands 
 of the young." 
 
 We ought, however, not to judge Quintilian by these two 
 great episodes, as we may call them, but by his treatise as 
 a whole. Or, if the technical portions repel us, we should 
 at least peruse attentively the closing book, on the moral 
 requisites, the ideal career, the civic usefulness, of the 
 great speaker. The author is fully aware that the loss of 
 freedom under the empire has cut the sinews of oratory. 
 Though the Gracchi, Antonius and Crassus, and Cicero, 
 leaders in eloquence, respectively, during the last three 
 generations of the republic, had perished by violence, yet 
 all had been fearless in utterance, had exerted a vital in- 
 fluence on the political life of their times. This was no 
 longer possible. 
 
 Yet it may well be that Quintilian hoped for the return 
 of better conditions. This did indeed come to pass, and 
 for nearly a century a larger measure of dignity, if not 
 of effective power, was accorded to the Senate. For the 
 effort to revive a better rhetorical taste, under Trajan and 
 his noble successors, we may safely give large credit to 
 Quintilian's example and precedent. All that is most
 
 286 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 practical in Cicero's various works is here reverently pre- 
 served, and the compendious objective treatise appeals to 
 many minds far more effectively than the most graceful of 
 desultory dialogues, like the "De Oratore." The work 
 has still a secure position, like Euclid's in geometry, or 
 Aristotle's in logic. Every race and generation will make 
 its own text-books, but tlie art, or science, is essentially a 
 closed one, once for all adequately set forth. 
 
 In beginning his critique of Seneca, Quintilian mentions 
 former strictures which had caused some to suppose that 
 he even hated the brilliant philosopher. This was doubt- 
 less in his essay " On the Causes of the Decay of Elo- 
 quence." This work is lost. The two collections, one of 
 complete ''Declamations," the other of outlined abstracts 
 for similar pleas, are no longer attributed to Quintilian. 
 Most of the subjects discussed are in fact precisely such 
 fantastic theses, remote from all the needs of practical 
 life, as he most vigorously condemns. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The English reader is here again best served by the Bohn Classical 
 Library. In two volumes J. S. Watson gives a careful literal trans- 
 lation, with copious notes, chiefly drawn from the exhaustive edition 
 of Spaulding. English and American school books usually offer us 
 Book X. only ; Professor Frieze in a useful annotated edition includes 
 also XII. But the first two books deserve much better treatment. The 
 best text edition is Meister's, in Schenkl's attractive " Bibliotheca" 
 (Leipzig and Prague). This contains also critical notes, and further- 
 more supplies the sources for (iuintilian's many quotations. Poggio 
 re-discovered Quintilian at St. Gall, and the complete copy made by 
 the Renaissance scholar is still to be seen in the library of San Lorenzo 
 at Florence.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE PLINIES 
 
 FLINT THE ELDER PLINY THE TOUNGEB 
 
 23-79 A.D. 61-114(?) A.D. 
 
 The brief reign of Titus included three public calamities 
 so overwhelming that they must have confirmed the fond 
 belief of the Jews in the signal curse des- 
 tined to befall him who had assailed the holy 
 city. The fire, almost as destructive as Nero's, and the 
 pestilence, that slew ten thousand in a day, were local Ro- 
 man disasters. Far better remembered is 
 the eruption of Vesuvius, that destroyed 
 Pompeii and altered nearly all the physical features of the 
 Neapolitan region. 
 
 Of the many victims on that occasion, by far the most il- 
 lustrious was Gains Plinius Secundus, generally known as 
 " Pliny the Elder." This unwearying student was born, 
 of good Roman stock, at New Como, in 23 a.d. Even 
 when he had become one of Vespasian's most trusted and 
 active commanders, his reading and writing never ceased. 
 The latter half of the night, the supper hour, even his 
 bathing time, were anxiously improved, a slave constantly 
 Epist., HI., 5, reading to him, or taking notes from his dic- 
 "-'**• tation. A shorthand writer, in warm gloves, 
 
 shared his winter walks. His nephew recalled, even, with 
 some vexation, no doubt, having been reproved for spend- 
 ing at all, out of doors, time which could have been de- 
 voted to study. His scrap-books alone, finely and closely 
 written, amounted to 160 volumes. 
 
 387
 
 288 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 This extraordinary man was commander of the Roman 
 fleet when he risked and lost his life in an attempt to ob- 
 serve more closely the eruption of the vol- 
 cano, and to save some of its victims. His 
 nephew, who is the chief subject of this chapter, was then 
 cf. Epist., vii., but eighteen, and there is some excuse for a 
 ^o- certain levity and self-consciousness betrayed 
 
 even in his account of that terrible scene. 
 
 The uncle can hardly have been a considerate tutor of 
 youth. Even the catalogue of his lost works, filially re- 
 Epist., iiL.s, corded by his kinsman, is exhausting. His- 
 *-<^- tory of his own times, thirty-one books ; 
 
 German wars, twenty ; debatable points of grammar, eight ; 
 art of oratory, three ; biography of his friend and patron, 
 the tragedian and general Pomponius Secundus, two, etc., 
 etc. 
 
 We possess only the " Historia Naturalis," or Cyclopae- 
 dia, completed, provisionally, and dedicated to the prince 
 regent, Titus, in 77 a.d. Some peculiarities of this work 
 would bewilder us, but for our knowledge of the author's 
 life and his methods. The style, though usually bald and 
 hasty, changes curiously as he passes from one subject to 
 anotlier. The truth is, Pliny has here excerpted some five 
 hundred Greek and Latin authors, many of them quite 
 beyond his own range of intelligent criticism. On farming, 
 e.g., he speaks witli Cato's harsh simplicity, but next mo- 
 ment a philosophic passage imitates closely the rhetoric of 
 Seneca. Pliny's own style, as in the fulsome dedication, 
 is highly artificial, labored, and tawdry. 
 
 The most famous phrase in the whole work is perhaps 
 
 the remark, clearly occasioned by a gap in his authorities, 
 
 H. N., xxxiv., that in a certain year the art of sculpture 
 
 7> 52- among the Greeks "stopped," {cessavit) and 
 
 was suddenly revived thirty-five Olympiads later. 
 
 All uses of minerals are berated as impiety. " How in-
 
 THE PLINIES 389 
 
 nocent, how blest, how delightful our life would be, if it 
 craved nothing save what is on earth's surface, in short, 
 
 what is within its reach ! " Even coin, and 
 XXXH1..1, 3. commerce itself, are alike accurst. Each 
 
 heroic statue is a monument of mortal au- 
 xxxiv.,7. i8. (jacity. The hewing away of mountains, 
 and the traversing the sea to fetch the blocks from foreign 
 quarries, are alike impious attacks on the barriers set by 
 Providence between the nations. We might often fancy 
 
 we were listening to John Ruskin's fierce on- 
 "*^ ■' '' ^' slaught upon a more sordid and ugly dese- 
 cration of Nature by man. Yet on this very subject of 
 the plastic arts, and others as well, the loss of the original 
 sources makes Pliny the chief, often our sole reliance. 
 During most of the Middle Ages, his Cyclopsedia filled a 
 much larger place than the Britannica holds in our day. 
 
 The general plan of the work is curious, but not so il- 
 logical. It may be thus summarized : Book I., contents 
 and general bibliography of sources ; II., general descrip- 
 tion of the universe ; III.-VI., geography and ethnology ; 
 VII., anthropology; VIIL-XL, zoology; XII.-XIX., de- 
 scriptive botany ; XX.-XXVIL, vegetable curatives ; 
 XXVIII.-XXXII., curatives from the animal kingdom; 
 XXXIII.-XXXVII., metals and stones. In the last sec- 
 tion is included, episodically as it were, the use of bronze, 
 marble, etc., in art. The work is a manual of the physical 
 sciences and their most useful applications. 
 
 Pliny is a Pantheist, but much less than Lucretius does 
 he accept the universality of law. Hence he is credulous 
 as to any phenomenon, and records it on scantiest evidence. 
 He is often querulous, also, complaining, e.g., that every 
 infant weeps from birth, but not one learns to laugh for 
 at least a month. Many, perhaps most, of his statements 
 are unintelligible, or irrational, or utterly antiquated, in 
 the light of modern science. Yet both for the manifold
 
 290 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 data not elsewhere accessible, and as a compendium of 
 what was at least generally accepted for centuries as truth, 
 this work is of the utmost interest to the historian of the 
 human intellect. Of literary form or quality, however, it 
 has little indeed. This must be our excuse for attempting 
 no more adequate account of it here. 
 
 " Hail, Nature, mother of all things, and be thou gracious 
 to me, since I, alone of Quirites, have glorified thee in all 
 thy parts ! " Such is his final and not ineffective cry. 
 
 The sister's son of this gallant, tireless, opinionated, 
 pessimistic scholar, called, after his adoption by his kins- 
 man, Gains Plinius Caecilius Secundus, is now best known 
 as *' Pliny the Younger," Quintilian had probably more 
 influence than his uncle in moulding the youth's tastes. 
 He early became a busy successful advocate, and through 
 his eloquence — combined of necessity with courtly tact — 
 rose into such a political career as was yet open under the 
 empire. The old curule offices were still formally filled, 
 chiefly by the emperor's personal appointment. For sev- 
 eral months of the year 100 a.d. Trajan even resigned the 
 consulship in Pliny's favor. Military service he naturally 
 shared also. At the very close of his life we find him for 
 two years in charge of Bithynia as the emperor's legate. 
 
 Pliny's wealth was abundant, and was used with wise 
 generosity. In particular he showed his love for his native 
 Como by such munificent gifts as a system of public baths, 
 an endowed library, etc. Impecunious men of letters, like 
 Martial, found him a generous patron. It is not wholly 
 strange if we find in this happy man's writings a picture 
 of Eoman life hardly to be reconciled with Martial's or 
 Juvenal's. 
 
 Luckily for Pliny's consistency, no word of his uttered 
 before Domitian's death appears to be preserved. For his 
 prosperity throughout that reign he makes the best apolo-
 
 THE PLINIES 291 
 
 gies he can : that his promotions and other favors were 
 accepted before the tyrant revealed his worst traits, that in 
 the last years of terror he had declined the imperial ad- 
 vances : that a signed order for his death was actually 
 found, after Domitian himself was slain. 
 
 Of Pliny's speeches, polished by himself and his friends 
 for years after their delivery, one survives, the panegyric 
 on Trajan, delivered when he followed his master in the 
 consulship. It is, in fact, our main, all but our sole, 
 source for the history of the three first years of this noble 
 reign. The financial reforms, the charities, the great con- 
 structions, of the new emperor are described in glowing 
 colors. The bitter hatred expressed for Domitian can 
 hardly have been necessary. In general the performance 
 is wearisome to the modern reader, and surely not a fair 
 result of Quintilian's precepts. 
 
 On the other hand, the "Letters" make up the most 
 readable volume of classical Latin prose since Livy's. 
 The title is really misleading. In all the nine books very 
 few real epistles, of an occasional and spontaneous charac- 
 ter, are to be found. Not only is each a little essay in its 
 finished form ; we get the impression that nearly all were 
 so conceived. Each treats a single well-defined subject. 
 In most cases there is no reason to be discovered why there 
 should have been any address added, save perchance Ad 
 Posteritatem. 
 
 We miss the enjoyable consciousness, so often felt in 
 perusing Cicero's billets to Atticus, not to mention many 
 a more recent volume of familiar letters, that we are hear- 
 ing what the writer would never have wished or allowed us 
 to know. The general view of social life under Trajan, 
 and especially of Pliny's own character, is doubtless far too 
 optimistic. Yet the work is generally and rightly praised, 
 as the autobiography of a lovable, refined, surprisingly 
 modern gentleman. We often lay the book down, as in-
 
 292 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 deed the brevity, the completeness, the finish, of each let- 
 ter make it easy to do. Yet we gladly pick it up again, 
 and we acquire at last an intimate familiarity with the 
 writer and his large circle of friends. Though the letters 
 are not arranged in exact chronological order, the nine 
 books seem to have followed each other successively be- 
 tween 96 and 110 a.d. 
 
 Some of Pliny's foibles, such as his frank vanity and 
 self-consciousness, his hunger for immortal fame, his cre- 
 dulity as to ghosts and superstitions, his dislike of his elo- 
 quent rival Eegulus — not merely as a heartless informer in 
 Domitian's worst days, but quite as much for his popular- 
 ity and success in the law courts — only appeal to our 
 human sympathy. His rapturous descriptions of his own 
 villas in various parts of Italy are sincere and loving. In- 
 deed, Pliny's longing for quiet rustic life, and delight 
 in natural beauty, inspire his heartiest utterances. 
 Such a graphic sketch as that of the head- 
 Epist.. viii., 8. ^j^|.gyg Qf ^j^g Clitumnus might remind us 
 
 yet again of Ruskin, in a happier mood. 
 
 Pliny fully appreciated the overwhelming superiority of 
 
 Tacitus, though he strove to believe himself the second 
 
 author of the age. " I prophesy," he writes, 
 
 Epist.. vii.. 33. ti^iy^^ yo^j, histories will be immortal: 
 
 hence the greater, I will frankly confess, is my desire to 
 be inscribed therein." He repeats with delight an anec- 
 dote told him by the historian, how a strange gentleman 
 sat next him at the games. After varied and scholarly 
 conversation the unknown asked: "Are you an Italian 
 or a provincial ?" " You are already acquainted with me 
 through my works." " Are you, then, Tacitus, or Pliny ? " 
 The story may have been slightly modified to please the 
 eager vanity of Pliny : and the fame of both may have 
 been chiefly from their oratory. 
 
 It can hardly be questioned that Pliny has posed carefully
 
 THE PLINIES 293 
 
 before his mirror, in his finest attire, with his best side dis- 
 played. But, as a friend adds : ''We may well be grateful 
 to the artist for such an ideal." Like Seneca, he shows 
 real and extraordinary tenderness for children, slaves, and 
 dependants, generally. His helpless, corpulent mother 
 makes a single striking appearance, sharing the boy's aim- 
 less flight at the time of the great eruption. Pliny's child- 
 lessness was a source of lasting grief to him. We may in- 
 sert here a sincere love-letter to his wife Calpurnia. 
 
 " You will not believe what a longing for you possesses me. 
 The chief part of this is my love ; and then we have not grown 
 used to be apart. So it comes to pass that I lie awake a great 
 part of the night, thinking of you, and that by day, when the 
 hours return at which I was wont to visit you, my feet take 
 me, as it is so truly said, to your chamber ; but not finding 
 you there, I return, sick and sad at heart, like an excluded 
 lover. The only time that is free from these torments is when 
 I am being worn out at the bar, and in the suits of my friends. 
 Judge you what must be my life, when I find my repose in 
 toil, my solace in wretchedness and anxiety. Farewell. ' ' 
 
 Tacitus is not by any means the only friend to whom 
 gentle Pliny looks up with reverence. The heroic old Ver- 
 ginius Rufus, who had twice refused the crown, could have 
 wished no other hand to write his epitaph. The heroism 
 of Arria and her kinswomen, who were so often bereft by 
 judicial murders, is described in affectionate admiration. 
 
 The best illustration of Pliny's loyalty, and indeed of his 
 rather helpless dependence, in responsible place, on a 
 firmer will or a larger mind, will be found in his real cor- 
 respondence with Trajan during his stay in Bithynia, His 
 anxious appeals for instructions seem to include nearly 
 every detail of executive duty. His large-minded master 
 once or twice suggests to him to rely somewhat upon his 
 own discretion. 
 
 Best known, for special reasons, is his account of the
 
 294 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 pestilent and persistent Christian "superstition." Already 
 we seem to see, more clearly shaping itself, the Roman con- 
 sciousness that here was a force against which the older civ- 
 ilization might have to contend for its very existence. The 
 quiet heroism of the martyrs baffled, awed, perhaps filled 
 with remorse, this unusual type of Roman governor. "I 
 judged it necessary to endeavor to extort the truth, by put- 
 ting two female slaves to the torture, who were said to 
 officiate in their religious rites, but all I could discover 
 was evidence of an absurd and extravagant superstition." 
 Again we are reminded that a new time is dawning. 
 
 Of Pliny's last days we hear nothing. In his letters to 
 Trajan there is no allusion to a return to Rome. It is 
 simply inferred that he died in his Asiatic province, or 
 presently after his arrival in Italy. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The elder Pliny's work fills six volumes, whether in Latin, as last 
 edited by Detlefsen, or in the Bohn translation. The latter is intel- 
 ligent, and has also copious, rather discursive, foot-notes. 
 
 Pliny's letters are edited for our schools in selections only, though 
 neither the bulk nor the quality would liinder us from reading them 
 all. For the non classical student "there is a very faithful transla- 
 tion in English, by Lewis (Triibner), and a more readable version in 
 Johnsonese by Melmoth, revised by Bosanquet, for the Bohn series."
 
 CO 
 
 O 
 
 a 
 
 y. 
 
 71 U 

 
 CHAPTEK XXXIV 
 
 CORNELIUS TACITUS 
 55(?) I20(?) A.D. 
 
 This great master of style, analyst of character, and aus- 
 tere critic of life, casts a long shadow backward, and has 
 really been our companion ever since Augustus's death. 
 Indeed, the story of the early empire can never be read 
 without him. Even where Tacitus's own records have 
 perished, he has colored the opinions and expressions of 
 all later chroniclers. Merivale's large picture of the early 
 empire is largely Tacitean in its outlines and gloomy tints. 
 
 This author has often been likened to Carlyle. More 
 obvious is the comparison with his chief classical rival, 
 Thukydides : for each of these two recorded, in memorable 
 form, what he regarded, no doubt with much truth, as the 
 downfall, almost the suicide, of his own people. The 
 Athenian author excels in self-control, apparent impartial- 
 ity, energy in seeking data at first hand, even in states- 
 manlike breadth of view. In vividness, quickness of 
 touch, withering power of cynical analysis, in appeals to 
 the sense of pity or indignation, Tacitus has never found 
 his master. 
 
 We are tempted at times to see a perverseness of destiny 
 in the fate of Athens. Aristides's rugged honesty had 
 made a hundred other free states eager to organize under 
 Athenian leadership. Pericles had at least some gleam 
 of inspiration foreshadowing the principles of federation 
 and representative government. The superior strength 
 
 295
 
 296 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 of Athens over the Dorians in arms seemed decisive in 
 420 B.C. 
 
 A few more years of peace, and the swift growth of com- 
 merce and wealth might have reconciled even the Corinthi- 
 ans to Athenian hegemony. Had the Fates granted Athens 
 one more great statesman, or prolonged Pericles's life for a 
 decade, or merely effaced from the scroll of the future 
 Alkibiades's career or the Sicilian expedition, Greece 
 might yet have been a nation indeed, the wonderful Athe- 
 nian character, expressing itself in drama, music, sculpture, 
 architecture, as in statecraft, might have had full develop- 
 ment and lasting vitality, we might even to-day possess, 
 or be possessed by, the Hellenic spirit of beauty, instead 
 of groping for a few crumbling fragments from her silent 
 tomb. 
 
 Such reflections add a certain tragic pathos, or even 
 epic dignity, to Thukydides's story : but he himself hardly 
 reminds us, save in a few passages of Pericles's funeral ora- 
 tion, how much after-time had to lose in the great struggle. 
 Tacitus's tone is infinitely more bitter, even despairing. 
 Yet we do not fully share, for ourselves, his consciousness 
 of irreparable loss. 
 
 The Koman rule over all civilized nations was far more 
 masterful and lasting than Athens's control over her little 
 ^gean world. The Greek elements themselves in that 
 comjiosite later culture acquired through Rome a wider 
 dissemination than even an Alexander could give them. 
 Civilization to-day for its essential unity still thanks the 
 Cffisars. 
 
 It is amazing that neither the convulsions of the civil 
 Nero slain, June, wars, nor the mad follies of Caligula and 
 <**• Nero, nor even the utter anarchy that fol- 
 
 lowed the downfall of the last Julian emperor, enabled a 
 Qaiba. otho, vi- single subject nation to regain its liberty. 
 teiiius. Tjie legions still held the far frontiers,
 
 CORNELIUS TACITUS 297 
 
 steadfast against Briton, German, and Parthian, while four 
 
 Vespasian pro- fierce Eomans vainly clutched the crown, 
 
 claimed, July, and passcd it to a worthier fifth, within lit- 
 
 ^' tie more than a year. 
 
 The old Koman aristocracy lingered on. Many of its 
 members enjoyed great wealth, though no longer in politi- 
 cal control. Numbers of them were still sent out to recoup 
 their fortunes as provincial governors. Even a Senate ex- 
 isted, at least in name. 
 
 But the very success of Rome's conquests had made her 
 whole world ready for a military despotism. The rabble 
 of the capital could no longer be pushed through so much 
 as the decent forms of election, Republican or even dem- 
 ocratic ideas still lived only in the brains of philosophers 
 and visionary doctrinaires. Tacitus accepts the empire 
 much as Livy did : as a desperate necessity. 
 
 Caligula and Nero perished by just vengeance, wreaked 
 for atrocious crimes. But the utter anarchy of the year 
 68-69 was felt to be worse than the maddest of rulers, 
 and the rude soldier Vespasian, though he banished the 
 Stoics, and slew the fearless patriot Helvidius Prisons, 
 was hailed then, and is still considered, the saviour of 
 society. The great military machine required a despotic 
 master. From his caprices there was no escape, save to kill 
 the last autocrat : and try chances with the next. 
 
 Meantime, many a native renegade, shifty Greek, or 
 Oriental adventurer, secured limitless wealth, and, for the 
 time, unbounded power, by winning the emperor's affec- 
 tion and poisoning his mind against the most successful of 
 his governors and generals. The very Senate, in an abject 
 effort to show its loyalty, usually turned like a hungry 
 wolf-pack upon anyone, even of their own number, on 
 whom the despot, or his reigning favorite of either sex, had 
 glanced with hatred or suspicion. 
 
 Such is our general impression of high life at the capi.
 
 298 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN" 
 
 tal, from Augnstns's old age to Domitian's fall. But the 
 last three years were by far the worst, so Tacitns assures 
 us, and finally crippled the whole folk beyond recovery. 
 
 That this century was, for the provinces generally, on 
 the whole, a relief from the previous age, is generally 
 agreed. The system of spoliation was worked more mod- 
 erately under a single strong executive. That even in 
 Italy, in Rome itself, there still lived happy, virtuous, self- 
 respecting men and women, we must believe. Indeed, 
 Pliny seems to prove as much. There are those who con- 
 sider Tacitus's delineation, even of the most detested of 
 emperors, to be utterly distorted, caricatured, and unfair; 
 but certainly it is indelibly stamped on the imagination of 
 mankind. 
 
 As to the chief outward events in this career we know 
 very little. Neither the date of birth nor of death is to be 
 pnny,Epist.,vii., ascertained. Though Pliny once mentions 
 30, 3-4- him as a man of about his own age, Tacitus's 
 
 political career indicates that he was some years older. It 
 is only a natural surmise that he was Quintilian's pupil. 
 He must have had good social position, since he so early as 
 78 A.D. married the daughter of Agricola, the famous 
 governor of Britain. He mentions the ac- 
 ceptance of honors from all the three Flavian 
 
 Annals, xi., ii. ,_, . 
 
 emperors. That in 88 A.D. he was both 
 praetor and one of the fifteen commissioners who conducted 
 the secular games, he also records. When Agricola per- 
 ished, in 93 A.D., Tacitus was absent from Italy, we know 
 not in what official capacity. In 97, under Trajan, he be- 
 came consul, and delivered a notable oration on the most 
 Pliny, Epist., 11., Venerable and illustrious of citizens, Ver- 
 '• ginius Rufus. This we learn from Pliny, a 
 
 dozen of whose letters are addressed to the historian. " Of 
 hia good fortune,'' says Pliny of Rufus, ''this was the
 
 CORNELIUS TACITUS 299 
 
 final crown : the most eloquent of eulogists." In 100 a.d. 
 the two friends, Pliny and Tacitus, united to prosecute 
 successfully an extortionate governor of Africa, Marius 
 Prisons. After that year Tacitus appears to have retired, 
 both from his active law-practice and from a political 
 career, to devote his energy to composition. All his ora- 
 tions have perished. His historical works were published 
 under Trajan, and he is supposed to have died about the 
 close of that reign. 
 
 THE LIFE OF AGRICOLA 
 
 When Tacitus turned from political and forensic oratory 
 to history, he developed somewhat gradually, with evident 
 conscious effort, that terse, austere, yet extremely effec- 
 tive style which is peculiarly his own. In parts of the 
 " Agricola " we may still hear the rather ornate orator, 
 and even catch familiar echoes of those extravagant fu- 
 neral eulogies whose reckless praise had annoyed Livy. 
 
 Though not published until after Nerva's death, the 
 cautious skill of many portions suggest that they were com- 
 posed for Domitian's jealous eye. The essay is in large 
 part a sober account of Britain as a province. Emphasis 
 is thrown on Agricola's early training, and later his eight 
 years of faithful command in the British Isles ; or on the 
 promptness with which, in 69 A.D., he joined and materially 
 aided Vespasian, who had himself served in the far Western 
 islands, long before he won the imperial crown by high 
 success in Palestine. 
 
 The skill of the pleader, even a certain dramatic fair- 
 ness, is to be heard also in the undoubtedly fictitious speech 
 put into the mouth of Galgacus, the gallant 
 Agricola. 30-33. British chief. Not only does it breathe a 
 spirit of patriotic pride, and fierce love of freedom, but by 
 bold touches indicates the weakness of Roman rule. Of
 
 300 THE AGE OP SILVER LATIN 
 
 the heroic Boadicea, more fully treated in the Annals, we 
 have here but a glimpse. Agricola's later years spent 
 A , , (, in inactivity at Kome, daring which by sub- 
 missive self-effacement he escaped Domitian's 
 
 Annals, xiv., 31. '■ 
 
 deadly ill-will, are lightly touched upon. 
 The rumor that Agricola was poisoned, at Domitian's 
 order, is evidently believed by Tacitus, who mentions with 
 sinister emphasis the suspiciously frequent and solicitous 
 visits of the court physician. The death of Agricola 
 was just at the beginning of Domitian's final triennium of 
 atrocious cruelty. Tacitus is thankful that he did not live 
 to behold '' the Senate house besieged, the massacre, in 
 one havoc, of so many consulars." The historian seems to 
 have been himself present in those days in the Senate. 
 , , . " Our hands dragged Helvidius to prison. 
 
 Agricola, 45. r\ ^ 
 
 Ourselves were tortured with the spectacle, 
 and sprinkled with the innocent blood — " of other heroic 
 victims. " Even Nero witiulrew his eyes from the cruelties 
 he commanded. Under Domitian it was the chief of our 
 miseries to behold and to be gazed upon." 
 
 While Tacitus is both courtly and sincere in his praise 
 of Trajan, his tones are those of despair. " Now our 
 . , . spirits begin to revive. . . . The em- 
 
 Agricola, 3. nr 
 
 peror Nerva united two things before in- 
 compatible, monarchy and liberty. . . . Yet from the 
 nature of human infirmity, remedies work more tardily 
 than disease. . . . It is easier to suppress genius and 
 industry than to recall them. Sloth, however odious at 
 first, becomes at length attractive." This is the prevail- 
 ing key, to the end, of our author's utterance. Whatever 
 the real causes, as to the result he was not in essential 
 error. He was himself, in literature, the last great Roman 
 figure. 
 
 The one purely subjective allusion is a happy one. 
 Agricola ^'when consul, contracted his daughter, a lady
 
 CORNELIUS TACITUS 301 
 
 already of happiest promise, to myself, then a very young 
 man ; and after his office expired I received her in mar- 
 riage." Tacitus seems more hopeful than 
 Pliny as to a future life : " If, as philoso- 
 phers suppose, exalted souls do not perish 
 grcoa,4 . yy[\]x the body, may you repose in peace." 
 Yet like his friend he finds the chief reward for merit in 
 a lasting earthly memory. "It remains, and shall remain, 
 in the minds of men, transmitted in the records of fame 
 through an eternity of years." Certainly few brief biog- 
 raj^hies have better deserved, by their tactful skill, elo- 
 quence, and warm personal feeling, to accomplish so lofty 
 an end, than this little sketch of a discreet courtier and 
 provincial governor under the Flavian emperors. The 
 name at least of Agricola is remembered by school-boys ; 
 Verginius Euf us, apparently a much more heroic figure, has 
 utterly perished. 
 
 GERMANIA 
 
 The second brief monograph appeared " in Trajan^s 
 second consulship," i.e., 98 a.d. Tacitus's silence in- 
 dicates that he does not speak from close personal knowl- 
 edge or extended travel in German lands. " This is what 
 we have learned (accepimiis) concerning the 
 
 Qermania, a8. . . , j: ti -i r^ 
 
 origin and manners of all the Germans in 
 common," he remarks at an important transition. Cae- 
 sar's Gallic War, Books IV. and V., gives us the earliest 
 glimpse of both our ancestral homes, England and Ger- 
 many. Livy and Sallust appear to have discussed the Ger- 
 mans in detail. The elder Pliny's twenty books have been 
 mentioned. But the chance of survival leaves this little 
 essay our chief source-book still. 
 
 While Tacitus sets out in good faith to delineate " the 
 geography and ethnology of Germany," and appears to be 
 in the main impartial as well as fairly well informed, he is
 
 302 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 too clever a rhetorician, too much a preacher born, not to 
 point out clearly and often the contrast between Germanic 
 virtue and the vicious luxury of degraded Latium. 
 Qermania, 17- " Among the Germans usury is unknown, 
 37, passim. gold and silver prized no more than clay. 
 Dress is rude, rational, simple, for both sexes. Each man 
 has one undowered, devoted, faithful helpmeet for life. 
 Every woman cares wholly for her own offspring. There 
 are no wills or legacies. The rude tumuli of the dead are 
 not oppressed with sumptuous monuments." Such asser- 
 tions carried their own antithesis. 
 
 The fondness for barley beer, for martial councils and 
 abundant discussion, the continuance of family feuds, the 
 acceptance of wehr-geld for all crimes of violence, even to 
 manslaughter, the shrill or thunderous songs of the 
 ** bards " — these are all truthful touches. The belief in 
 the sanctity, wisdom, even supernatural foresight, of 
 women, seems supported by passages in both Caesar and 
 Strabo. The especial sacredness, and use for augury, of 
 white horses, though it reminds us of Persian customs, is 
 also probably not invented. 
 
 As a whole, however, the essay is unsatisfying, even 
 meagre. Especially is this true of the attempt to locate 
 the various races and clans. We get a decided impression 
 that the Romans knew, with any accuracy, only the Suevi 
 and neighboring tribes of the West, with whom they were 
 in constant contact. Yet the mere mention of the 
 Langobardi, or the Angli, is of historic 
 
 Qermania, § 40. . * ' ° ' 
 
 interest. 
 
 THE HISTORIES 
 
 These two brief essays, by the side of Tacitus's chief task, 
 take on the appearance of mere elaborated episodes. Indeed, 
 the general account of Britain, and still more of Germany,
 
 CORNELIUS TACITUS 303 
 
 did, no donbt, relieve his chronicle of a prolonged digres- 
 sion. 
 
 The master work of Livy, still nnrivalled in popular 
 favor, had covered the whole of the Republican period, 
 and half the reign of Augustus. Tacitus, after some vacil- 
 lation, selected as his subject the early empire, from 
 Tiberius's accession to Domitian's fall. It may have been 
 more than a courtly compliment when he pro- 
 posed to reserve, as a happier theme, for his 
 okl age, the story of Nerva and Trajan. Certainly, no such 
 bold venture ever saw the light. Nor was his projected 
 supplementary account of Augustus ever 
 
 Annals, ill., 24. .,, "' 
 
 Avritten. 
 In the chosen period of eighty-two years the most violent 
 break is the passing of Nero, last of the Julian house, with 
 the following year of anarchy. Tacitus chose to begin with 
 the second section. Indeed, the ' ' Annals " may really have 
 been an afterthought. The "Histories" are on a very 
 large scale. Our manuscript breaks off suddenly about 
 midway in the fifth book, but the events of the two years 
 69-70 A.D. are not completed even then. The entire work 
 comprised at least twelve books, probably fourteen. "We 
 deeply regret the loss of the portion on Domitian's time, 
 where Tacitus spoke with fullest knowledge. Yet such 
 
 scenes as the triumphant entry of Vitellius 
 
 Hist.il., 88, 89. , , . n 1 • • 4- 4-1 -i. 
 
 and his savage German legions into the city, 
 the pitched battle in the Campus Martins between Vitel- 
 lians and the Flavians, with the ferocious 
 ■ '' ' * rabble looking on as at a splendid show in 
 the amphitheatre, are unforgettable pictures by an eye- 
 witness. 
 
 As to Tacitus's sources of knowledge we know little. 
 
 The elder Pliny had described " all the wars 
 
 Pliny, Letters, ^j^^t Rome had Waged with the Germans." 
 
 '* ** Vipstanus Messalla and other elderly friends
 
 304 THE AGE OF SILVER LATI]!^ 
 
 of the historian gave him freely from their store of per- 
 sonal memories. Josephns and the Old Testament he 
 certainly did not know, when he wrote his incoherent and 
 mythical account of the origin of the Jews, tracing them 
 from Crete. In general, we are not to regard 
 
 Hist, v., 2 ft. m • 1 1 • • 
 
 Tacitus as a learned investigator, or even as 
 a man of remarkably wide intellectual interests. What he 
 tells us derives its chief value, rather, from the alembic of 
 his unique mind, its charm from his inimitable utterance. 
 
 THE ANNALS 
 
 This title, though truthful as to its indication of the 
 
 form, is not used by Tacitus himself. The work is clearly 
 
 the last written, at least of the extant books. Once the 
 
 " Histories" are clearly referred to as already 
 
 Annals, xi.. II. p^|3iighe(j_ The sixteen books covered the 
 
 entire period from Tiberius's accession till the year 69 
 A.D.: fifty-five years. But Books VII. -X., on the years 
 31-46 A.D., including the whole reign of Claudius, are lost, 
 while elsewhere there are grievous gaps. 
 
 Here all the qualities of Tacitus's style are seen at their 
 extreme. His incidents are selected, and treated, with a 
 persistent view to rhetorical effect. He is always more 
 artist than historian. Cynical comment constantly takes 
 the place of needed elucidation of the facts, which is indeed 
 often curiously lacking. His sources, moreover, have 
 almost wholly perished, leaving him master of the field. 
 Doubtless he made use of the meagre acts of the Senate, 
 and other official records. But it is quite certain that the 
 gossip of the palace, or popular tradition, was also accept- 
 able, if it suggested an effective detail. 
 
 The account of Tiberius's last days is generally considered 
 our author's masterpiece. The general story of the Em- 
 peror's self-exile, the usurpation of all power by Sejauus,
 
 COENELIUS TACITUS 305 
 
 and his spectacular overthrow, which inspired some of 
 JuvenaFs best-known verses, is abundantly authenticated. 
 And yet, the character of Tiberius is still the subject of 
 widest disagreement. In truth this, like many another 
 portrait in the long gallery, is regarded as a creation of 
 artistic genius, which may or may not be a fair likeness. 
 
 The character of Germanicus is printed in far lighter 
 colors than Tacitus elsewhere uses, as a contrast to his grim, 
 silent uncle. Even the eulogist's account of his actual 
 deeds, however, fails to justify the exalted position as a 
 popular idol accorded to his hero. A notable modern 
 painting, by Piloty, has made us familiar with Germani- 
 cus's triumph, the proudest hour of that prince's life. 
 Annals ii 41 Descriptions of this pageant occur in both 
 
 strabo,'vi'i.,p. Tacitus and Strabo. Yet the German artist 
 391. 
 
 has seen clearly how little cause there was for 
 
 Eoman pride, since the heroic Thusnelda is a captive 
 
 through her own father's treachery, and her dauntless 
 
 husband Hermann is still unsubdued. 
 
 Grave as are the gaps in his two chief works, Tacitus 
 makes upon the thoughtful reader an adequate, an over- 
 whelming impression. The world may always see the first 
 century of our era through his eyes. There is much 
 wisdom, however, in the impressive protest of Professor 
 Schanz, against putting this terrific Vision of Sin and 
 Misery as a whole into the hands of youthful students 
 or readers. The impression is as gloomy, almost as vivid, 
 as that of the Inferno itself. The finest traits of Taci- 
 tus's wonderful style can be illustrated sufficiently by de- 
 tached scenes and passages, some of which are in compara- 
 tively cheerful tints.
 
 306 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN 
 
 THE DIALOGUE " DE ORATORIBUS 
 
 j> 
 
 A problem hardly soluble is offered by the graceful, in- 
 structive little dialogue "De Oratoribus/' or rather, "On 
 the causes for the decay of oratory under the empire." 
 Transmitted as Tacitus's, it is written in a genial, almost 
 a diffuse style, not -unlike the " De Oratore,"' which it 
 frankly imitates. Furthermore, certain fear- 
 
 ■ *"'"'*• P' ■ less allusions to unfavorable conditions make 
 it unlikely that the little book saw the light under Do- 
 mitian. The theory that it is the missing work of Quin- 
 tilian on the same theme is exploded. There is a general 
 agreement that it is Tacitus's own. The last American 
 editor. Professor C. E. Bennett, sets its date so early as 
 81 A.D. Professor Schanz, however, takes the other horn 
 of the dilemma, and assigns the essay to the time after 
 Domitian's death. This requires the supposition that 
 Tacitus, while acquiring his unique historical style, retained 
 also at command what we may almost call his former 
 dialect. Pliny's tasteless oration, and most graceful 
 epistolary manner, are sometimes brought forward as a 
 parallel example. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 There are translations of all Tacitus's works, perhaps as satisfactory 
 as could be expected, by Church and Brodribb. There is a fine edi- 
 tion of the "Annals" by Furneaux, of the "Histories" by Spooner. 
 For the lesser essays there are numerous school editions. Furneaux's 
 " Agricola" and " Germania" are probably the best. For the " Dia- 
 logues " may be mentioned especially Gudemann'a and Bennett's 
 editions.
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES 
 
 14 A.D.-117 A.D. 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 14 Accession of Tiberius. 
 
 15-16 Germaniciis in Germany. 
 
 Sejanus prefect of the 
 Prffitorians. 
 
 Germanicus's triumph. 
 
 17 
 
 19 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 Death of Germanicus in 
 Syria. 
 
 Death of Drusus, said to 
 have been poisoned by 
 Sejanus. 
 
 Tiberius withdraws to Ca- 
 pri, never to return. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 Literary Events. 
 
 18 Death of Ovid and Livy. 
 
 27-30 Ministry of Jesus. 
 
 31 Fall and death of Sejanus. 
 
 37 Death of Tiberius at Capri. 
 
 Accession of Caligula. 
 41 Caligula assassinated. 
 
 Accession of Claudius. 
 43 Claudius invades Britain. 
 
 54 Claudius poisoned by Agrip- 
 
 pina. 
 Accession of Nero. 
 
 59 Murder of Agrippina by 
 
 Nero's order. 
 61 Boadicea rises against the 
 
 Romans and is defeated. 
 
 34 
 35(?) 
 
 41 
 
 43 
 49 
 50 
 
 56 
 
 Birth of Persius. 
 Birth of Quintilian. 
 
 Seneca's " De Ira," i.-iii. 
 Exile of Seneca. 
 Birth of Martial. 
 Recall of Seneca. 
 Columella born. 
 
 Seneca " De dementia," I.- 
 III. 
 Paul to the Corinthians, I. 
 
 307
 
 308 
 
 THE AGE OF SILVER LATIN" 
 
 Political Events. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 64 
 
 Great fire in Rome. 
 Peraecution of the Chria- 
 
 tians. 
 Building of Nero's Golden 
 
 House. 
 
 65 Conspiracy of Piso detected. 
 
 66 (?) Martyrdom of St. Paul and 
 
 St. Peter at Rome. 
 
 68 Nero slain. Accession of 
 
 Galba. 
 
 69 Death of Galba. 
 Accession and suicide of 
 
 Otho. 
 Accession and death of Vi- 
 
 tellius. 
 Accession of Vespasian. 
 
 70 Titus takes Jerusalem. 
 Helvidius Priscus exiled and 
 
 executed. 
 
 71 Triumph of Vespasian and 
 
 Titus. 
 75 Stoics and Cynics expelled 
 
 by Vespasian. 
 
 79 Death of Vespasian. Titus 
 
 emperor. 
 Eruption of Vesuvius. 
 78-85 Agricola governor of Britain. 
 
 80 Pestilence and fire at Rome. 
 Arch of Titus erected. 
 
 84 Agricola builds chain of 
 
 forts from Forth to Clyde. 
 
 90 Expulsion of the philoso- 
 
 phers from Rome. 
 
 96 Domitian slain. Accession 
 of Nerva. 
 Consulate of Verginius Ru- 
 fuB and Tacitua. 
 
 Literary Events. 
 A.D. 
 63 Death of Persius. 
 
 65 
 
 66 
 
 68 
 69 
 
 77 
 
 79 
 
 Death of Seneca and Lucan. 
 Death of Petronius. 
 
 Epistles of John, I., 11. 
 III. 
 
 Quintilian appointed by Gal- 
 ba professor of rhetoric. 
 
 Pliny's " Historia Natu- 
 ralis" dedicated to Titus. 
 Death of the elder Pliny. 
 
 85-102 Martial's Epigrams, I.-XII. 
 
 92 Statius's Thebaid. 
 92-93 Quintilian composes his In- 
 stitutions. 
 
 96 Funeral oration on Vergin- 
 
 ius by Tacitus.
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES 309 
 
 Political Events. Literary Events. 
 
 A.D, A.D. 
 
 98 Death of Nerva. Accession 98 (?) Gospel of St. John. 
 
 of Trajan. 
 100 Forum of Trajan built. 100 Pliny's eulogy on Trajan. 
 
 Consulate of I'liny. 
 
 102 Martial dies, in Spain. 
 
 111-113 Pliny governor of Bithynia. Ill (Sept. )-l 13 (Jan.) Letters from 
 
 Pliny in Bithynia to 
 117 Death of Trajan. Trajan.
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 The very greatness of Tacitus emphasizes his loneliness, 
 and warns us that it is time to close this volume. Hardly 
 more than a pigmy beside him stands, as an historian, 
 Suetonius Tranquillus, who, like Tacitus and Pliny, a law- 
 yer under Trajan, lived on to be for some years Hadrian's 
 private secretary. Of his diligent compilations only the 
 *' Lives of the Twelve Csesars " survived entire. These 
 gossipy, anecdotic, marvel-loving, often scandalous ac- 
 counts are neither history nor biography. Their style is 
 clear and simple. They are even in a way restful after the 
 ** Annals " and " Histories," since they pretend to no 
 elaboration, no dignity, no strenuous moral quality. Sue- 
 tonius does not rise even to indignation. Thus his account 
 of Domitian, whom he knew so well, is distinctly more 
 lenient than the passing allusions of Tacitus, or even of 
 Pliny. 
 
 Suetonius's lives of Terence and the elder Pliny, perhaps 
 also of Horace and Lucan, are tolerably preserved in con- 
 nection with those authors' own works or comments on 
 them. The whole volume of his literary biographies, 
 from Cicero and Sallust to Nero's time, would be valuable, 
 if extant, though it too was rather a copious and early 
 collection of the traditions than a work of research or judi- 
 cious selection. 
 
 Far more graceful and enjoyable is Aulus Gellius, who 
 perhaps acquired in Athens his genial taste and sense of 
 form. Almost any one of his three hundred and seventy 
 essays would serve as a daily lesson in our own schools. 
 The average length is hardly four hundred words. Archae- 
 
 310
 
 MAIJCrS AUKELIUS. 
 Equestrian statue on the Capitoline.
 
 EPILOGUE 311 
 
 ology, history, biography, literary criticism, epitaphs, an- 
 ecdotes, etc., etc., make his "Attic Nights" anything but 
 monotonous. Often we have to do rather with a student's 
 scrap-book than Avith an author's compositions : yet Gel- 
 lius's erudition, if not deep, is widely gathered, and lightly 
 carried. Though the output apparently of a whole life, 
 all the papers have a certain youthful Wander-year tone. 
 He looks reverently backward to the Catos and Varros of 
 a greater time. In short, he shows in amiable, contented 
 fashion the decay of the intellectual life. 
 
 Gellius likewise illustrates the all but complete fusion 
 of Greek and Latin culture. Suetonius, Apuleius, Ha- 
 drian himself, wrote in both languages. Marcus Aurelius, 
 on the Eoman throne, preferred Greek, even when touch- 
 ing upon subjects of purely national interest. As the 
 organ of imperialism, and as the vehicle of culture gener- 
 ally, Latin was to lose ground more and more. Already 
 Plutarch, Arrian, Lucian, are the most prominent authors 
 of the second century. The removal of the capital left 
 Rome a provincial city. 
 
 Under Hadrian lived also Annaeus Florus, perhaps a 
 countryman, or even a kinsman, of the Senecas. His 
 panegyric on the Eoman people, in two books, is not in- 
 deed a mere " Epitome of Livy," in which character it 
 was long preserved and conned, but it is a shallow, care- 
 less compilation, much below Suetonius in quality. 
 
 Unless we add the great jurist Gains, who made his di- 
 gest under Antoninus Pius, these three are actually the 
 best examples we can offer of classical prose after Tacitus. 
 So swift is the descent. 
 
 It is not, indeed, necessary to believe that the Roman or 
 Latin race accomplished national suicide in the days of 
 Tiberius, Nero, and Domitian. The strong and righteous 
 imperial rule of the second century a.d. is truly Roman
 
 312 EPILOGUE 
 
 still. Large as was its creative activity, the race had 
 never even claimed artistic supremacy. Literature, like 
 all plastic arts save perhaps architecture, always bore 
 among Eomaus the stigma of levity. Gravitas, on the 
 other hand, a certain majestic self-respect, has been rec- 
 ognized as the most striking Koman quality that pervades 
 Latin letters. It had been rudely undermined by the 
 loss of freedom and long capricious persecution. Martial 
 is the least dignified of authors. After Tacitus none 
 regains the pedestal. 
 
 That alone would not be a fatal loss. But the social 
 life, the ethical traditions, the very speech, of Latium had 
 at last been overwhelmed by the motley millions that had 
 inundated the metropolis. The barbarians arrived long 
 before the fourth century, and not in hostile arms. The 
 early impact of Hellenism had perhaps been salutary and 
 even needful, to bring any adequate culture or fine art to 
 rude Latium. But now the creeds and superstitions, the 
 morality and the immorality, of a remoter Orient swept 
 over Italian and Hellenic lands alike. The greatest names 
 of the second century in either literature may serve to il- 
 lustrate this state of things. 
 
 APULEIUS 
 
 Lucian, from Samosata in Syria, is barely half-Hellenic. 
 He knows every detail of the outworn Olympian mythol- 
 ogy, but only to make it life-long his scoff. In the auda- 
 cious comic sweep of his ''True Story" he combines the 
 Olympos and Hades of Homer with all the wilder marvels 
 of Eastern imagination. He himself has faith in nothing. 
 
 The tale of "Lucius, or the Ass" is related by both 
 Apuleius and Lucian, at very nearly the same date. We 
 are told that it was not original with either. The metamor- 
 phosis there described could have found no place even in
 
 EPILOGUE 313 
 
 frivolous Ovid's catholic aggregation of snch marvels. 
 It is accomplished by no intelligent higher power, nor 
 lias it the slightest moral significance as a retribution or 
 a warning. The change of a youth into a donkey is a 
 triumph of pure magic, of witchcraft. From Horace's 
 "Canidia," or even earlier, Komaus had played with such 
 miracles, not believed in their possibility. In Lucian the 
 restoration is also a matter of pure chance, accomplished 
 instantly when the proper antidote, a bunch of roses, is 
 touched. In such a fantastic world there is no room even 
 for the slow crude justice of the quarrelsome Homeric gods. 
 
 Into the same central legend Apuleius has interwoven 
 nearly a score of other widely varied tales. Some of the 
 robbers' exploits here unfolded recall Herodotos's Ehampsi- 
 nitos. More than once, again, lovers' stratagems might 
 make us believe we have opened the Decameron, or some 
 yet more modern volume, by mistake. The dragon and 
 the sorceress, equally at home in the wonder-tales of ail 
 lands, appear here also. 
 
 But even the favorite and pathetic Greek myth of Cupid 
 and Psyche, not traceable to any earlier author, though 
 surely not of Apuleius's creation, is shot through with the 
 golden threads of alien fancy. In fact, this is the first 
 appearance of the modern type of fairy-tale. Psyche's 
 home is not located at all. The story, told by a villanous 
 old woman in the robbers' cave to divert a captive girl, 
 begins simply : " In a certain country lived a king and 
 queen ; they had three beautiful daughters." 
 
 Apuleius is by no means, like Lucian, destructive of 
 pious belief. Rather is he to be counted among the sin- 
 cere devotees and mystics. To his Lucius the great god- 
 dess Isis appears in a vision, promising the long-tortured 
 youth his release from the hateful bestial shape. The 
 price exacted for the restoration is gladly paid. He be- 
 comes her acolyte, and knows no such remorseful awaken-
 
 314 EPILOGUE 
 
 iugas Catullus's Atys. It is with rapturous, unquestioning 
 faith that he receives the greeting of Isis, as she rises out 
 of the sea in her mysterious starry splendor : 
 
 " Lo, here am I, Lucius, summoned by thy prayers ; 
 I the parent of creation, mistress of all the elements, first 
 offspring of the ages, supreme among divinities, queen of 
 ghosts, first of the celestials, the form unique of all gods 
 and goddesses, I who by my nod accord the luminous 
 summits of heaven, the healthful breezes of the sea, the 
 mournful silences of the under-world ; whose divinity, 
 one in manifold forms, with various rites, under diverse 
 names, all the earth adores." 
 
 Certainly there is no whisper of Lucian's mockery in all 
 this. In truth, Apuleius is here gliding into something 
 very like autobiography. An African by birth, educated 
 first in Carthage — which was now becoming a rival of 
 Rome in Latin culture — and later in Athens, he had trav- 
 elled widely, and was himself initiated into many strange 
 cults. Even Rome could not hold him permanently, and 
 we hear of him last as again in Carthage, and a priest. 
 Such is the life-story told us of the next "Latin" author 
 of commanding genius after Tacitus. We surely seem to 
 have stepped into another world. 
 
 The whole style and atmosphere of the work is as remote 
 as could well be from classicism. Little save the inflec- 
 tions assure us, even, that we are truly reading Latin, not 
 Italian. There are novel words, many of them Greek, not 
 a few of remoter or unknown origin. The very order is 
 modern. The shortened sentence, or at least phrase, of 
 Seneca, is here outdone. In the artistic changeful prose 
 of Apuleius we begin to hear the rhymes and cadences of 
 modern accentual verse. 
 
 But above all, we realize that in this age the conventions 
 that have dominated art, and life as revealed in art, are not
 
 EPILOGUE 315 
 
 SO much violated as outlived and forgotten. Behind Isis 
 and Osiris troop the myriad other forms of Oriental be- 
 liefs. Mightiest of all, destined soon to displace Olympian 
 paganism as the orthodox faith of the rulers and of the 
 empire, primitive Christianity is essentially Hebraic and 
 Eastern, a mystic faith, teaching that this life is either un- 
 real or in itself unimportant, that in *' other-worldliness'' 
 alone lies the hope of salvation. "Whether preached by the 
 Hebrew Paul in Greek cities or by Latin-speaking mis- 
 sionaries among the Britons and Germans, the story of the 
 rise of Christianity is certainly no part of Graeco-Roman 
 letters. 
 
 Not merely Tacitus, who doubted whether fate or mere 
 chance controlled the life of man, but Lucre- 
 
 Annals, vi., 22' , i /^ , n 
 
 tius and Catullus, nay many a fearless thinker 
 
 even of early Greece like Heracleitos and Auaxagoras, 
 had indeed cast off all pretence of belief in Homer's 
 undignified divinities. None the less, certain motives of 
 action, a common conception of human duty and divine 
 rule, had dominated alike the long life of man in the two 
 lands of classic culture. A decided aversion from occult- 
 ism, an open-eyed view of the higher powers, a hearty 
 preference for this world over any casual hope of blessed- 
 ness elsewhere, had been hardly less general. Even Plato 
 undertakes to explain, to reduce to intelligible order, the 
 eternal forces and truths that he descries ; while Virgil en- 
 deavors, at least, to guide us through his vague, dim under- 
 world. A certain simplicity and completeness of form, 
 dignity, calmness, and even reticence, had characterized 
 nearly all the best work, and must ever be associated with 
 the word classical. 
 
 In the following centuries there are still great men who 
 reach the world's ear in Latin speech as well as in Greek. 
 The largest minds, like Augustine's, are most completely
 
 316 EPILOGUE 
 
 equipped from the treasuries of Greek and Latin antiquity. 
 But antiquity it is, to them quite as truly as to us ; and 
 while we, to-day, are above all desirous once more to 
 realize, and fully to profit by, our unbroken kinship with 
 that remoter past, nearly every early Christian teacher, on 
 the contrary, felt himself drawn, however reluctantly, into 
 the death-struggle against the slow-dying influence of 
 paganism. But that, again, is certainly too large a sub- 
 ject for a closing page. 
 
 As was said on a much earlier leaf, the chief gift of 
 Roman letters to after-time was not imaginative, not poetic 
 inspiration or form, but rather a calm, good taste, chiefly 
 embodied in the prose style of Cicero and Livy, Quintiliau 
 and Pliny, to which Roman power and speech gave a 
 world-wide currency. 
 
 The persistence of those forms in the intellectual life of 
 Europe is no less wonderful. Dante, and he only in part, 
 was the first to break away from the scholastic tradition, 
 and write serious prose essays, as well as poetry, in the 
 '' vulgar speech," that is, in his real mother tongue. 
 Much later, if not even to our own day, were the fully in- 
 flected Latin forms still used in the town-chronicles and 
 records of Romagna, Tuscany, and Lombardy. The ritual 
 of the great mother-church is Latin to-day. American 
 scholars abroad are occasionally reminded, to their con- 
 fusion and mortification, that all liberally educated men 
 are still supposed to be masters of Terence's and Tully's 
 speech. Though so profoundly modified, Latin never 
 died. In half a dozen modern languages, among which 
 our own might be included, the words, and much of the 
 spirit, lives on in a continuity that has never been broken 
 for a single generation. 
 
 There is a temptation to cite at least a few among the 
 sweet-voiced minor poets of the later empire. Verse is in
 
 n.VDHIAX. 
 Antique bust in the Vatican.
 
 EPILOGUE 317 
 
 itself so conventional, that the vanishing of classical Latin 
 as a spoken language failed to break the Virgilian tradition. 
 So Apollonios Rhodios had imitated, with scholarly accu- 
 racy, the Homeric dialect, which, in truth, had itself 
 never been closely representative of any colloquial 
 
 speech. 
 
 But not one of those later singers in the quantified Hel- 
 lenic rhythms ever had a great popular or national impor- 
 tance, nor will one of them be successfully revived for our 
 own interest and study. In so far as they were classic, 
 they felt their own utter Inferiority to the earlier masters, 
 Virgil and Ovid. 
 
 Quantified verse, it will be remembered, had been intro- 
 duced into Latin, not without difficulty, by Ennius. 
 There is reason to believe that the folk-song, like the folk- 
 speech, never heartily accepted its fetters. Certainly the 
 elaborate ^olic strophes of Horace failed to reach the 
 popular ear at all. In such snatches as Hadrian's address 
 to his own parting soul : 
 
 " Animula vagula hlandula! " 
 
 we begin to hear something very like the caressing soft- 
 ness of Tuscan verse to-day. 
 
 A new note also, perhaps of the same time, is heard in the 
 song for Venus's spring festival, with its hurrying refrain: 
 
 "Who ne'er loved shall love to-morrow, who hath loved shall 
 love again !" 
 
 Yet we suspect that we are listening to a much later voice, 
 when near the close of the ninety-three verses the nightin- 
 gale is heard, and the poet sighs : 
 
 " She is singing, we are silent. When returns the Spring for 
 me? 
 When shall I be like unto the swallow, and be mute no 
 
 more? 
 
 >»
 
 318 EPILOGUE 
 
 Though this poem is still accurate in its quantities, yet the 
 revival of the trochaic measures clearly aided the growing 
 tendency to make the rhythmic stress coincide with the 
 word accent of prose. Such lines as : 
 
 Et' canoras non tactre diva jussit dlites, 
 
 (And the goddess bade the tuneful winged creatures not be 
 
 mute.) 
 are very frequent : yet such perfect coincidence could 
 hardly be found in a line of the entire ^neid. Whether 
 an old popular measure or a new invention, this fore- 
 shadows a decisive revolt from the Greek verse-forms. 
 
 Certainly the more popular hymnology early began to 
 neglect quantity for the accentual rhythms, discovered the 
 resonant effect of recurrent end-rhyme, which in Latin is 
 so extraordinarily easy as well as sonorous, and, in general, 
 assumed the forms most familiar to us in our own verse. 
 But as these magnificent chants like the '' Dies Ir^e " peal 
 forth, we seem to have turned away altogether from the 
 cadences of Catullus and Virgil. This, too, is a part of 
 the long story of another day. 
 
 It is a curious but perhaps inexplicable fact that Dante's 
 dearest rival in youth, Guido Oavalcanti, disliked Virgil, 
 while Dante himself not only set the melancholy Mantuan, 
 " who through long silence was grown hoarse," high above 
 all other poets, conning his every verse until he had learned 
 it by heart, but actually identified the Augustan singer 
 with the human intellect and moral virtue itself. Thus 
 alone and against utmost opposition did Dante descry the 
 full significance of Roman life, and letters, to that modern 
 world of which he is the chief forerunner. Across the 
 ages he and Virgil join hands. To Dante, as to us, pagan 
 Virgil, and even Homer's dim, stately shape, were nearer 
 than Augustine and Jerome, the chief expositors of his 
 own creed.
 
 EPILOGUE 319 
 
 However fully we accept the spiritual and constructive 
 teachings of Paul, or even of Augustine, we need no 
 longer dread the fullest irradiation of our life by all that 
 is true, beautiful, and lasting in Latin letters. Other and 
 doubtless larger legacies did the Roman leave us ; yet this 
 also shall abide in our grateful remembrance. 
 
 As Professor Jebb and Professor Mackail have remarked, 
 it is a Latin versifier of the late empire, after all, who 
 utters best our appreciation of Caesar's supreme accomplish- 
 ment. A poet, himself of Egyptian birth, addressing the 
 Vandal Stilicho, who through the weak Honorius ruled 
 the Western world, Claudius Claudianus thus honors Rome 
 as the common parent of civilized men : 
 
 "She, she only, has taken the conquered unto her bosom ; 
 All mankind in a single name she united and cherished ; 
 Not as a queen, but a mother, she citizens made of the 
 
 vanquished, 
 Linking together the far-off lands in a bond of affection. 
 Now, for the peaceful ways she has taught, each man is 
 
 indebted, 
 While he, an alien, wanders as if in the haunts of his fathers. 
 Now, whichever we will, we drink from Rhone or Orontes, 
 Since mankind is a single nation. " 
 
 Even in the fourth century a.d. we can hardly believe 
 that the wounds of the conquered races were all so fully 
 healed : and yet : one law, one peaceful way of life, one 
 clear speech by all men understood : It seems a dream of 
 the far-off future, a prophecy, as of Tennyson's hopeful 
 youth in '^Locksley Hall." We too readily forget how 
 far rough, selfish Rome actually strode along that same 
 path. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 INDEX 
 
 (Titles of books in italics) 
 
 Accius, see Attius 
 
 Actium, 56 
 
 ^lius Stilo, cited, 33 
 
 ^milius Probua, 107 
 
 ^neas, 168 
 
 ^Mna, 75 
 
 Africanus the Younger, 51, 69 
 
 Agricola, 299-301 
 
 Aischylos, 60 ; Persians, 24 
 
 Alkibiades, 296 
 
 American literature, 7 
 
 Anacreon, 193 
 
 Anacreontics, 194 
 
 Ancyra, 152 
 
 Annaeus Florus, 311 
 
 Antigone, 249 
 
 Antonius the orator, 86 
 
 Antony, 78 
 
 Apollonios Rhodios, 115, 171, 317 
 
 Appendix Vei'giliana, 174-6 
 
 Appius Claudius, 19, 62 
 
 Apuleius, 312-14 
 
 Archias, 76 
 
 Archilochos, 193 
 
 Archimedes' s tomb, 74 
 
 Ariadne, 122 
 
 Aristides, 295 
 
 Aristotle, Poetics, 90 
 
 Aristophanes, 48, 140 
 
 Arria, 293 
 
 Asconius, 253 
 
 Asinius PoUio, 151, 153, 164 
 
 Astrology, 252 
 
 Atellan Farce, 19 
 
 Athens, 295, 296 
 
 Atticus, 82, 107 
 Attius, 23, 88-9 
 Augustus, 79, 141, 150-54, 158, 203, 
 
 234, 304-5, 316 
 Augustine, 94 ; quoted, 97 
 Ausonius, cited, 282 
 
 Bacchus, 129 
 
 Bahrens, Poetre Latini Mtnores, 8 
 Baiter and Kayser, Cicero, 72 
 Ball, Apokolokyntosis, 251 
 Bennett, C. E., Tacitus's Dialogues^ 
 
 306 
 Boadicea, 300 
 Boissier, Ciceron et ses Amis, 72 ; 
 
 Virgile, 177 
 Bowen, u^neid, 176 
 Browning, quoted, 93 
 Brutus, 71, 82, 87, 115 
 Biicheler, Petronius, 113 
 
 Csecilius, 49, 124 
 Cffilius Rufus, 77, 83, 116, 284 
 CiBsar, 70, 75, 77, 81, 98-103, 105, 
 139, 142 ; Commentaries, 154, 301 
 Caesar and ^neas, 169 
 Caesars, 234 
 Caesar Strabo, 87 
 Caesius Bassus, 253 
 Calhoun, 31 
 Callimachos, 115, 125 
 Calpurnia, 293 
 Calpurnius, 256 
 Calvus, 116, 120, 124 
 Camilla, 173 
 
 321
 
 322 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Canidia, 013 
 
 Cartilage, 21 , 51 
 
 Castor and Pollux, 119 
 
 Cato, 29-;n, 57, 71, 7G, 83; cited, 15 ; 
 
 quoted, 86 
 Catullus, 114-125, 126, 215; cited, 
 
 13() ; quoted, 153 
 Cavalcanti, 318 
 Celsus, 236-7 
 Ceres, 129 
 
 Christianity, growth of, 294 
 Church and Brodribb, Livy, 185; 
 
 racitu.% 306 
 Cicero, 51, 57, 78-97, 115, 124, 136, 
 
 140, 142 ; cited, 13, 15, 16, 24, 30, 
 
 32, 36, 63, 159; quoted, 53, 58, 107; 
 
 De Senectute^ 31 
 Cicero, Marcus, the younger, 93 
 Cicero, Quintus, 83 
 Ciceronian age, 69-72 
 Cinna, the poet, 125 
 Ciris, 175 
 Claudius, 245-6 
 
 Claudius Claudianus, quoted, 319 
 Cleon, 140 
 Clodia, 77, 116 
 Clodius, 71,77,116 
 Clough, quoted, 152 
 Coelius Antipater, 62 
 Columella, 253 
 Comedians, 38 
 Comparetti, quoted, 155; Virgil in 
 
 the Middle Ages, 177 
 Congreve, 208 
 Conington, Horace, 202; Persius, 
 
 2.59 ; Virgil, 176 
 Corinna, 206 
 Cornelia, 219 
 Cornificius, 85, 124. 
 Cranstoun, Catullus, 125; Projjer- 
 
 tius and Tilmllm, 222 
 Crassus, the orator, 86 
 Vulex, 158, 174 
 Cupid and Psyche, 313 
 Curtins, Quintus, 253 
 Cynthia, 217, 219 
 
 Dante, 129, 135, 316, 318; quoted, 
 
 181, 268 
 Daphnis, 163 
 Darwin, 128 
 Democritos, 127 
 De Oratoribus, 306 
 Diodoros, 150 
 Dionysios, 150 ; cited, 13 
 Biue, 175 
 Domitian, 285, 300 
 Druniann, Oeschichte Roms, 72 
 Dry den, ^neid, 176 
 
 Ellis, Catullus, 125 
 Emerson, 132, 133, 243, 344 
 EnniuB, 29, 32-7, 53, 57, 58, 142 
 Epictetos, 151 
 Epicuros, 127, 132, 134 
 Eris, 129 
 Eros, 129 
 
 Fannius Strabo, 62 
 
 Farrar, Seekers after Ood, 251 
 
 Fescennine Comedy, 17 
 
 Festus, 226 
 
 Field, Eugene, quoted, 192; Echoes 
 
 from a Sabine Farm, 202 
 Fowler, Julius Ccesar, 103 
 Friedliinder, Martial, 279 ; Sitten- 
 
 geschichte Roms, 279 
 Frieze, Quititilian, 286 
 Fulvins, 34 
 Fundania, 110 
 Furneaux, Tacitus's Agricola and 
 
 Oermania, 306 ; Tacitus'.s Annals, 
 
 306. 
 
 Gains, 311 
 
 Galgacus, 299 
 
 Gallio, 239 
 
 Oallus, 163, 166, 216-17 
 
 Garda, 119 
 
 Gellius, 310; cited, 38, 39, 40, 58; 
 
 quoted, 110 
 Germanicus, 252, 305 
 Gildersleeve, Pcrsius, 259
 
 INDEX 
 
 323 
 
 Gracchi, 75 
 Gracchus, Gaius, 6!J-3 
 Gracchus, Tiberius, 56, 69 
 Grattius, 224 
 
 Hadrian, 317 
 
 Hannibal, 172 
 
 Harris, Two Tragedies of Se7ieca, 251 
 
 Heine, 117 
 
 Heitland, Cicero's Pro Mnrena, 79 ; 
 
 Lucan's Pharsalia, I, 271 
 Helvidius, 300 
 Hermann, 305 
 Herodotos, 313 ; cited, 101 
 Hesiod, 165 
 Hippocrates, 237 
 Hirtius, 103 
 Holmes, O W., 191 
 Horace, 53, 59, 186-202, 313; cited, 
 
 18,33 
 Horace and Virgil, 186, 201 
 Hortensius, 74, 115 
 Hyginus, 225 
 
 Ida, 122 
 
 Ihne, History of Rome, 8 
 
 Iliad, 130 
 
 lonians, 2 
 
 Irving, Sir Henry, 140 
 
 Isis, 313 
 
 Isis and Mithra, 235 
 
 Jacob, Manilius, 238 
 
 Jeans, Cicero's Letters, 84 
 
 Jebb, 319 
 
 Jerome, cited, 125 
 
 Johnson, Samuel, 278, 279 
 
 Jonson, 140 
 
 Josephus, 151 
 
 Julia, 164, 213 
 
 Julia, the younger, 213 
 
 Justinus, 224 
 
 Juvenal, 276-280 ; quoted, 266 
 
 Keil, Cato and Varro, 113 
 Kellogg, Cicero's Brutus, 88 
 
 Kelsey, Lucretius, 136 
 
 Kiepert, Classical Atlas, 8 
 
 Kiessling, Horace, 2'<fii 
 
 King, Henry, Metamorphoses, 214 
 
 King, J. R., Cicero's Philippics, 79 
 
 Knight, History of England, 180 
 
 Laberius, Decimus, 138-140 
 
 Lachmann, Lucretius, 136 
 
 Lselius, 51. 52 
 
 Latin Iliad, 256 
 
 Latium, 4 
 
 Lawton, Catullus and his Friends, 
 125; Virgil, 111 
 
 Lentulus, 116 
 
 Lesbia, 116, 206 
 
 Lewis, Juvenal, 279; PUny^s Let- 
 ters, 294 
 
 Licinius, 21 
 
 Licinius Macer, 124 
 
 Lincoln, 75 
 
 Livius Andronicus, 21 
 
 Livy, 4, 13, 15, 16, 24, 29, 30, 31, 154, 
 178-85, 301. 
 
 Livy and Virgil, 178 
 
 Long, Cicero's Orations, 79 
 
 Longfellow, quoted, 204 
 
 Lounsbury, Chaucer, 97 
 
 Lucan, 239, 260-262 
 
 Lucian, 109, 312 
 
 Lucilius, 60-62 
 
 Lucius, or the Ass, 312 
 
 Lucretius, 4, 126-36, 238 
 
 Lucullus, 71 
 
 Lydia, 175 
 
 LygdamuB, 222 
 
 Lysias, 115 
 
 Mackail, 319 ; cited, 177 
 Macrobius, cited, 107 
 Maecenas, 153 
 Magia, 157 
 Malius, see Manilius 
 Mallius, see Manilius 
 Mallock, lAicretius, 136 
 Manilius, 237-38
 
 324 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Marcclla, 276 
 
 Marccllus, 196 
 
 Marcellus, the younger, 219 
 
 Marcus Aurelius, 150, 151, 311 
 
 Marius, 70, 150 
 
 Marius and Sulla, 56 
 
 Marius Priscus, 299 
 
 Markland, Statius's Silvce, 271 
 
 Mars, 128 
 
 Martial, 118, 152,271-0, 313; cited, 
 
 108; quoted, 179 
 Martin, Sir Theodore, quoted, 117, 
 
 196 ; Catullus, 125 ; Horace, 202 
 MasBon, Atomic Theory of Lucre- 
 tius, 136 
 Matius, 83 
 Mayor, Cicero's Be Natura Beorum, 
 
 97 ; Juvenal, 280 
 Medea, 209, 349 
 Meister, Quintilian, 286 
 Melmoth, Pliny's Letters, 294 
 
 Memmius, 116, 136 
 
 Menander, 55 
 
 Menipjjos, 109 
 
 Merivale, 295 
 
 Merrill, Catullus, 125 
 
 Merry, Fragments of Roman Poe- 
 try, 37 
 
 Messala, 220, 225 
 
 Middleton, Life of Cicero, 73 
 
 Milo, 71, 78, 104 
 
 Milton, 131 
 
 Mimnermos, 215 
 
 Mimus, 137-140 
 
 Minos, 122 
 
 Moberly, Caesar's Civil War, 103 
 
 Moliure, 48 
 
 Molon, 73 
 
 Mommsen,63,73,152; cited, 103,113 
 
 Aforetwn, 176 
 
 Morgan, M. H., Phormio, 55 
 
 Morris, yErieid, 176 ; Jason, 265 
 
 Miiller, Lucian, Lucilius, 63 
 
 Munro, H. A. J. Lucretius, 136 
 
 Murena, 76, 196 
 
 Myers, Virgil, 177 
 
 NiBviuB, 24-27, 56, 60, 139, 143 
 
 Napoleon III., Cccsar, 103 
 
 Neaera, 221-22 
 
 Nemesianus, 257 
 
 Nepos, 107-08 
 
 Neptune, 129 
 
 Nero, 246, 247, 248 
 
 Nerva, 300 
 
 Nettleship, Latin Lives of Virgil, 
 
 176 
 Niebuhr, quoted, 155 
 
 Octavian, see Augustus 
 Odysseus, 23 
 Odyssey, quoted, 69 
 Oriental religions, 315 
 Ovid, 303-14 ; quoted, 116 
 Ovid and Homer, 205 
 Ovid and Lucretius, 311 
 Ovid and Shakespeare, 312 
 
 Pacuvius, 58 
 
 Paris, 171 
 
 Parkman, 106 
 
 Parthenios, 135, 310 
 
 Patin, Etudes sur la Poesie Latine, 
 
 8 
 Patro, 136 
 Paul, 204 
 
 Paul and Seneca, 240, 251 
 Peabody, A. P., Translations from 
 
 Cicero, 96 
 Peck, Trimalchio's Banquet, 358 
 Peck and Arrowsmith, Roman Life 
 
 171 Latin Prose and Verse, 227 
 Peleus, 123 
 Pericles, 140, 295 
 Persius, 257-8 
 Peter, Historicorum Romanorum 
 
 Fragmenta, 154 
 Petrarch, 96 
 Petronius, 354-6 
 Phaedrus, 237 
 Phidias, 140 
 Plato, 133, 135, 315; quoted, 94; 
 
 Republic, 90, 93
 
 INDEX 
 
 325 
 
 Plautus, 3S^8, 51 ; cited, 25 
 
 riinies, 387-295 
 
 riiny, 278 ; cited, 298, 303 ; quoted, 
 
 235, 298 
 Plutarch, 150; cited, 16 
 Poggio, 96 ; (JuiHtilian, 286 
 Pollio, see Asinius 
 Polybios, cited, 29, 52, 13 
 Pompeius Trogus, 224 
 Pompey, 70, 74, 81, 99, 171 
 Poraponius Mela, 253 
 Pomponius Secundus, 250 
 Pope, Thebaid, 271 
 Preston, Miss H. W., Georgics, 176; 
 
 Horace, 202 ; Statius^s Silvae, 271 
 Priapea, 224 
 Propertius, 200, 217-20 
 Propertius and Horace, 218 
 Publilius Syrus, 137-8 
 Pyrrhus, 21, 35, 63 
 
 Quintilian, 281-86 ; cited, 84, 102, 
 178 ; quoted, 250, 262 
 
 Racine, 140 
 
 Ramsay, Cicero's Pro Cluentio, 79 ; 
 Elegiac Poets, 233 
 
 Reber, Vitruvius, 327 
 
 Regulus, 292 
 
 Reid, Cicero's De Finibus, 97 
 
 Ribbeck, cited 379; Fragmenta 
 Comicorum, 9 ; Fragmenta Tragi- 
 corum, 9; Geschichte der Rd- 
 mischen Dichtung, 8, 2'ii, 27 ; cited, 
 113, 177 ; Romische Tragodie, 27 
 
 Rome and the provinces, 269-70 
 
 Romulus, 168 
 
 Rose, Vitruvius, 227 
 
 Ruskin, 289, 292 
 
 Sainte-Beuve, Virgile, 177 
 Sallust, 104-6, 301 ; cited, 69 
 Sappho, 195 
 
 Sappho and Alcaios, 193 
 Saturnian Metre, 19 
 Scaevola, 84 
 
 Schanz, 63, 305 ; Geschichte der Rd- 
 mischen Litterattir, 20; cited, 30 
 
 SchUler, 149 
 
 Scipio Barbatus's epitaph, 17 
 
 Scipios, 39, 50 
 
 Sejanus, 304 
 
 Sellar, cited, 207 ; quoted, 123 ; Ju- 
 venal, 280 ; Martial, 279 ; Roman 
 Poets, 8, 37, 63 ; Virgil, 177 
 
 Seneca, 239-51, 286 ; cited, 178 
 
 Seneca the elder, 225, 237 
 
 Servius, 34 
 
 Shakespeare, Comedy of Errors, 48 
 
 Shorey, Paul, cited, 130 ; Horace, 
 202 ; Lucretius, 136 
 
 Shuckburgh, Cicero's Letters, 84 
 
 Sicily, 21 
 
 Silius Italicus, 263-4 
 
 Simcox, History of Latin Litera- 
 ture, 8 
 
 Sinkiewicz, Quo Vadis, 271 
 
 Sirmio, 119 
 
 Smith, Goldwin, Bay Leaves, 136 
 
 Sophocles, 140 
 
 Spartans, 3 
 
 Spengel, Varro, 113 
 
 Spooner, Tacitus's Histories, 306 
 
 Statius, 265-9 ; quoted, 156 
 
 Stesichoros, 168 
 
 Strabo, 150 ; cited, 305 
 
 Stuart, Sallust, 108 
 
 Suetonius 310 ; cited, 154, 165, 361 
 
 Sulla, 150 
 
 Sulpicia, 222 
 
 Sulpicius, 71, 76,81, 84 
 
 Tacitus, 233, 295-306, 310 ; cited, 108, 
 179, 250, 355, 361, 292 
 
 Tacitus and Pliny, 292 
 
 Tennyson, 133, 134, 136, 319 ; quoted, 
 117, 157 
 
 Terence, 29, 49-55, 103 
 
 Terquem, La Science Romaine d 
 VEpoque d'Auguste, 227 
 
 Teuffel, History of Latin Litera- 
 ture, 8
 
 326 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Thackeray, 187 
 Theocritos, 163 
 Thetis, 122 
 Thorwaldsen, 149 
 Thukydides, 101, 295, 296 
 Thusnelda, 305 
 Tiberius, 233, 304 
 Tibullus, 197, 306, 220-222 
 Tibullus and Catullus, 221 
 Tibullus and Horace, 221 
 Tibullus and Virgil, 221 
 Tigellinus, 255, 256 
 Titus, 273, 287 
 Torquatus, 120 
 TroUope, Cccsar, 103 
 Tullia, 81 
 Tullius Tiro, 90 
 Twelve Tables, 14 
 
 Tyrrell, (Jicero's Letters, 84 ; Latin 
 Poetry, 176 
 
 Valerius Cato, 123, 175 
 Valerius Flaccus, 264-65 
 
 Valerius Maximus, 237 
 
 Valerius Probus, 252 
 
 Varro, 109-13, cited, 15, 40 
 
 Venus, 128 
 
 Verginius Rufus, 193, 301 
 
 Verres, 74 
 
 Verrius Flaccus, 226 
 
 Virgil, 152, 155-77, 315; cited, 15, 
 
 44, 264 ; quoted, 5, 141 
 Vitellius, 303 
 Vitruvius, 225 
 Voltaire, cited, 201 
 
 Watson, Cicero's Letters, 84 ; Quin- 
 
 tilian, 286 
 Weimar, 140 
 Weissenborn, Livy, 185 
 Wilkins, Cicero's De Oratore, 88 
 Windelband, 94 
 Winthrop, John, 54 
 Wordsworth, 130 
 
 Xenophon, 143 
 
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