CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NARRATIVE.
The atmosphere of Dio's Roman History is serious to a degree. Its author never loses sight of the fact that by his labor he is conferring a substantial benefit upon mankind, and he follows, moreover, a particular historical theory, popular at the time, which allows little chance for sportiveness or wit. Just as the early French drama could concern itself only with personages of noble or royal rank, so Dio's ideal compels him for the most part to restrict himself to the large transactions of governments or rulers and to diminish the consideration that idiosyncrasies of private life or points of antiquarian interest might otherwise seem to claim. The name of this ideal is "Dignity" (ογκος is the Greek), a principle of construction which is opposed to a narration adorned with details. However much it may have been overworked at times, its influence was certainly healthful, for it demanded that the material be handled in organic masses to prevent the reader from being lost in a confused mass of minutiæ. Racy gossip and old wives' tales are to be replaced by philosophic reflection and pictures of temperament. Instead of mere lists of anecdotes there must be a careful survey of political relations. Names, numbers, and exact dates may often be dispensed with. Still, amid all this, there is enough humor of situation in the gigantic tale and enough latitude of speech on the part of the acting personages to prevent monotony and to render intellectual scintillations of the compiler comparatively unnecessary. Occasionally, for the sake of sharper focus on the portrait of some leader, Dio will introduce this or that trivial incident and may perhaps feel called upon immediately, under the strictness of his self-imposed régime, to apologize or justify himself.
The style of the original is rendered somewhat difficult by a conscious imitation of the involved sentence-unit found in Thukydides (though reminiscences of Herodotos and Demosthenes also abound) but gives an effect of solidity that is symmetrical with both the method and the man. Moreover, one may assert of it what Matthew Arnold declared could not be said regarding Homer's style, that it rises and falls with the matter it treats, so that at every climax we may be sure of finding the charm of vividness and at many intermediate points the merit of grace. It is a long course that our historian, pressed by official cares, has to cover, and he accomplishes his difficult task with creditable zeal: finally, when his Thousand Years of Rome is done, he compares himself to a warrior helped by a protecting deity from the scene of conflict. Surely it must have been one of the major battles of his energetic life to wrest from the formless void this orderly record of actions and events embroidered with discussion of the motives for those actions and the causes of such events.
Dio has apparently equipped himself extremely well for his undertaking. A fragment edited by Mai (see Fragment I) seems to make him say that he has read every available book upon the subject; and, like Thukydides, he is critical, he is eclectic, and often supports his statements by the citation or introduction of documentary testimony. His superstition is debasing and repellent, but works harm only in limited spheres, and it is counterbalanced by the fact that he had been a part of many events recounted and had held high governmental offices, enjoying a career which furnished him with standards by which to judge the likelihood of allegations regarding earlier periods of Rome,—that, in a word, he was no mere carpet-knight of History. He is honestly conscientious in his use of language, attempting to give the preference to standard phrases and words of classical Greek over corrupt idioms and expressions of a decadent tongue; it is this very conscientiousness, of course, which leads him to adopt so much elaborate syntax from bygone masters of style. Finally,—the point in which, I think, Dio has come nearest to the gloomy Athenian,—something of the matter-of-fact directness of Thukydides is perceptible in this Roman History. The operator unrolls before us the long panorama of wars and plots and bribes and murders: his pictures speak, but he himself seldom interjects a word. Sometimes the lack of comment seems almost brutal, but what need to darken the torture-chamber in the House of Hades?
There are two ways of writing history. One is to observe a strictly chronological order, describing together only such events as took place in a single year or reign; and the other, to give all in one place and in one narration the story of a single great movement, though it should cover several years and a fraction,—or, again, to sketch the condition of affairs in one province, or valley, or peninsula for so long a time as the story of such a region seems to possess unity of development. The first kind of writing takes the year or the reign as its standard, whereas the second uses the matter under discussion or some part of the earth in the same way: and they may accordingly be called, one, the chronological method, and the other, the pragmato-geographical. The difference between the two is well illustrated by the varying ways in which modern works on Greek history treat the affairs of Sicily.
The first plan is that which Dio follows, and his work would have been called by the Romans annales rather than historiæ. The method has its advantages, one of which is, or should be, that the reader knows just how far he has progressed; he can compare the relative significance of events happening at the same time in widely separated lands: he is, as it were, living in the past, and receives from week to week or month to month reports of the world's doings in all quarters. On the other hand, this plan lacks dramatic force; there are sub-climaces and one grand climax: and the interest is apt to flag through being obliged to divide itself among many districts. The same results, both good and bad, are observable in Thukydides, whom Dio follows in constructive theory as well as style. It has already been said that our historian sacrifices sharpness of dates to the Onkos, depending, doubtless, on his chronological arrangements to make good the loss. Usually it does so, but occasionally confusion arises. Whether because he noticed this or not, he begins at the opening of the fifty-first book to be accurate in his dates, generally stating the exact day. Rarely, Dio lets his interest run away with him and mixes the two economies.
If we read the pages closely, we find that by Dio's own statement his work falls properly into three parts. The first consists of the first fifty-one books, from the landing of Æneas to the establishment of the empire by Octavianus. Up to that time, Dio says (in LIII, 19), political action had been taken openly, after discussion in the senate and before the people. Everybody knew the facts, and in case any authors distorted them, the public records were open for any one to consult. After that time, however, the rulers commonly kept their acts and discussions secret; and their censored accounts, when made public, were naturally looked upon by the man in the street with doubt and suspicion. Hence, from this point, says the historian, a radical difference must inevitably be found in the character of his account.
The second portion, opening with Book Fifty-two, ends at the death of Marcus Aurelius (180 B.C.). In LXXI, 36, 4 Dio admits that the old splendor ended with Marcus and was not renewed. His history, he says, makes here a sheer descent (καταπιπτει) from the golden to the iron age. It fades, as it were, into the light of common day in a double sense: for the events succeeding this reign Dio himself was able to observe as an intelligent eyewitness.
The third section, then, extends from the beginning of Book Seventy-two to the end of the work. Here Dio breaks away oftener than before from his servility to the Dignity of History, only to display a far more contemptible servility to his imperial masters. According to his own account he stood by and passively allowed atrocities to be multiplied about him, nor does he venture to express any forceful indignation at the performance of such deeds. Had he protested, the world's knowledge of Rome's degenerate tyrants would undoubtedly have been less complete than it now is; and Dio was quite enough of an egotist to believe that his own life and work were of paramount importance. If we compare him unfavorably with Epictetus, we must remember that the latter was obscure enough to be ignored.
In both the second and the third parts, that is to say throughout the entire imperial period, Dio is conceded to have committed an error in his point of view by making the relations of the emperor to the senate the leading idea in his narrative and subordinating other events to that relation. Senator as he was, he naturally magnified its importance, and in an impartial estimate of his account one must allow for personal bias.
Our historian's sources for the earlier part of his work are not positively known. He has been credited with the use of Livy, of Cœlius, of Appian, and of Dionysios of Halicarnassos, but the traces are not definite enough to warrant any dogmatic assertion. Perhaps he knew Tacitus and perhaps Suetonius: the portrait of Tiberius is especially good and was probably obtained from an author of merit. But there were in existence a great multitude of books inferior or now forgotten besides the works of the authors above mentioned; and Dio's History in general shows no greater evidence of having been drawn from writers whom we know than from others whom we do not know.
We have already noticed Dio's similarity to Thukydides in style, arrangement, and emotional attitude. There remains one more bond of brotherhood,—the speeches. Just as the sombre story of the Peloponnesian conflict has for a prominent feature the pleas and counterpleas of contending parties, together with a few independent orations, so this Roman History is filled with public utterances of famous men, either singly or in pairs. Dio evinces considerable fondness for these wordy combats ('αμιλλαι λογων). About one speech to the book is the average in the earlier portion of the work. The author probably adapted them from rhetorical μελεται, or essays, then in existence. He was himself a finished product of the rhetorical schools and was inclined to give their output the greatest publicity. The most interesting of these efforts,—some go so far as to say the only one of real interest,—is the speech of Mæcenas in favor of the establishment of monarchy by Augustus: this argument undoubtedly sets forth Dio's own views on government. Like the rival deliverance of Agrippa it shows traces of having undergone a revision of the first draught, and it is more than probable that the two did not assume their present shape until the time of Alexander Severus.
B.—THE WRITER.
Suidas, the lexicographer of the tenth century, who is profitable for so many things, has this entry under "Dio":
Dio—called Cassius, surnamed Cocceius (others "Cocceianus"), of Nicæa, historian, born in the times of Alexander son of Mammæa, wrote a Roman History in 80 books (they are divided by decades), a "Persia", "The Getæ", "Journey-signs", "In Trajan's Day", "Life of Arrian the Philosopher".
Photius, an influential Patriarch of Constantinople and belonging to the ninth century, has in his "Bibliotheca" a much longer notice, which, however, contains almost nothing that a reader will not find in Dio's own record. This is about the extent of the information afforded us by antiquity, and modern biographers usually fall back upon the author's own remarks regarding himself, as found scattered through his Roman History. Such personal references were for the first time carefully collected, systematically arranged, and discussed in the edition of Reimar; subsequently the same matter was reprinted in the fifth volume of the Dindorf Teubner text.
Just a word first in regard to the lost works with which Suidas credits Dio. He probably never wrote the "Persia": perhaps it belonged to Dio of Colophon, or possibly Suidas has confused Dion with Deinon. It is certain that he did not write "The Getæ": this composition was by his maternal grandfather, Dio of Prusa, and was the fruit of exile. "Journey-signs" or "Itineraries" is an enigmatic title, and the more cautious scholars forbear to venture an opinion upon its significance. Bernhardy, editor of Suidas, says "Intelligo Librum de Signis" and translates the title "De Ominibus inter congrediendum." Leonhard Schmitz (in the rather antiquated Smith) thinks it means "Itineraries" and that Dio Chrysostom very likely wrote it, because he traveled considerably. Concerning "In Trajan's Day" two opinions may be mentioned,—one, that the attribution of such a title to Dio is a mistake (for, if true, he would have mentioned it in his larger work): the other, that its substance was incorporated in the larger work, and that it thereby lost its identity and importance. The "Life of Arrian" is probably a fact. Arrian was a fellow-countryman of Dio's and had a somewhat similar character and career. It may be true, as Christ surmises, that this biography was a youthful task or an essay of leisure, hastily thrown off in the midst of other enterprises.
Coming to Dio's personality we have at the outset to decide how his name shall be written. We must make sure of his proper designation before we presume to talk about him. The choice lies between Dio Cassius and Cassius Dio, and the former is the popular form of the name, if it be permissible to speak of Dio at all as a "popular" writer. The facts in the case, however, are simple. The Greek arrangement is Διων 'ο Κασσιος. Now the regular Greek custom is to place the gentile name, or even the prænomen, after the cognomen: but the regular Latin custom (and after all Dio has more of the Roman in his makeup than of the Greek) is to observe the order prænomen, nomen, cognomen. It is objected, first, that the Greeks sometimes followed the regular Latin order, and, second, that the Romans sometimes followed the regular Greek order (e.g., Cicero, in his Letters). But the Greek exception cannot here make Dio the nomen and Cassius the cognomen: we know that the historian belonged to the gens Cassia (his father was Cassius Apronianus) and that he took Dio as cognomen from his grandfather, Dio Chrysostom. And the Latin exception simply offers us the alternative of following a common usage or an uncommon usage. The real question is whether Dio should be regarded rather as Greek or as Roman. To be logical, we must say either Dion Kassios or Cassius Dio. Considering the historian's times and his habitat, not merely his birthplace and literary dialect, I must prefer Cassius Dio as his official appellation. Yet, because the opposite arrangement has the sanction of usage, I deem it desirable to employ as often as possible the unvexed single name Dio.
Dio's prænomen is unknown, but he had still another cognomen, Cocceianus, which he derived along with the Dio from his maternal grandfather. The latter, known as Dio of Prusa from his birthplace in Bithynia, is renowned for his speeches, which contain perhaps more philosophy than oratory and won for him from posterity the title of Chrysostom,—"Golden Mouth." Dio of Prusa was exiled by the tyrant Domitian, but recalled and showered with favors by the emperor Cocceius Nerva (96-98 A.D.); from this patron he took the cognomen mentioned, Cocceianus, which he handed down to his illustrious grandson.
Besides this distinguished ancestor on his mother's side Dio the historian had a father, Cassius Apronianus, of no mean importance. He was a Roman senator and had been governor of Dalmatia and Cilicia; to the latter post Dio bore his father company (Books 49, 36; 69, 1; 72, 7). The date of the historian's birth is determined approximately as somewhere from 150 to 162 A.D., that is, during the last part of the reign of Antoninus Pius or at the beginning of the reign of Marcus Aurelius. The town where he first saw the light was Nicæa in Bithynia.
The careful education which the youth must have had is evident, of course, in his work. After the trip to Cilicia already referred to Dio came to Rome, probably not for the first time, arriving there early in the reign of Commodus (Book 72, 4). This monster was overthrown in 192 A.D.; before his death Dio was a senator (Book 72, 16): in other words, he was by that time above the minimum age, twenty-five years, required for admission to full senatorial standing; and thus we gain some scanty light respecting the date of his birth. Under Commodus he had held no higher offices than those of quæstor and ædile: Pertinax now, in the year 193, made him prætor (Book 73, 12). Directly came the death of Pertinax, as likewise of his successor Julianus, and the accession of him whom Dio proudly hailed as the "Second Augustus,"—Septimius Severus. The new emperor exerted a great influence upon Dio's political views. He pretended that the gods had brought him forward, as they had Augustus, especially for his work. The proofs of Heaven's graciousness to this latest sovereign were probably by him delivered to Dio, who undertook to compile them into a little book and appears to have believed them all; Severus, indeed, had been remarkably successful at the outset. Before long Dio had begun his great work, which he doubtless intended to bring to a triumphant conclusion amid the golden years of the new prince of peace.
Unfortunately the entente cordiale between ruler and historian did not long endure. Severus grew disappointing to Dio through his severity, visited first upon Niger and later upon Cæsar Clodius Albinus: and Dio came to be persona non grata to Severus for this reason among others, that the emperor changed his mind completely about Commodus, and since he had begun to revere, if not to imitate him, what Dio had written concerning his predecessor could be no longer palatable. The estrangement seems to be marked by the fact that until Severus's death Dio went abroad on no important military or diplomatic mission, but remained constantly in Italy. He was sometimes in Rome, but more commonly resided at his country-seat in Capua (Book 76, 2). In a very vague Passage in Book 76, 16 Dio speaks of finding "when I was consul" three thousand indictments for adultery inscribed on the records. This leads most scholars to assume that he was consul before the death of Severus. Reimar thought differently, and produces arguments to support his view. I do not deem many of the passages which he cites entirely apposite, and yet some of the points urged are important. I can only say that the impression left in my mind by a rapid reading of the Greek is that Dio was consul while Severus reigned; if such be the case, he probably held the rank of consul suffectus ("honorary" or "substitute"). All who refuse to admit that he could have obtained so high an office at that time place the date of his first consulship anywhere from 219 to 223 A.D. because of his own statement that in 224 he was appointed to the (regularly proconsular) governorship of Africa.
The son of Severus, Caracalla or Antoninus, drew Dio from his homekeeping and took him with him on an eastern expedition in 216, so that our historian passed the winter of 216-217 as a member of Caracalla's retinue at Nicomedea (Book 77, 17 and 18) and joined there in the annual celebration of the Saturnalia (Book 78, 8). Dio takes occasion to deplore the emperor's bestial behavior as well as the considerable pecuniary outlay to which he was personally subjected, but at the same time he evidently did not allow his convictions to become indiscreetly audible. Much farther than Nicomedea Dio cannot have accompanied his master; for he did not go to the Parthian war, presently undertaken, and he was not present either at Caracalla's death (217) or at the overthrow of Macrinus (218). This Macrinus, one of the short-time emperors, gave Dio the post of curator ad corrigendum statum civitatium, with administrative powers over the cities of Pergamum and Smyrna (Book 79, 7), and his appointee remained in active service during much of the reign of Elagabalus,—possibly, indeed, until the accession of Alexander Severus (see Book 78, 18, end). Mammæa, the mother of the new sovereign, surrounded her son with skilled helpers of proved value, and it was possibly due to her wisdom that Dio was first sent to manage the proconsulate of Africa, and, on his return, to govern the imperial provinces of Dalmatia and Upper Pannonia. Somewhat later, in the year 229, he became consul for the second time, consul ordinarius, as colleague of Alexander himself. But Dio's disciplinary measures in Pannonia had rendered him unpopular with the pampered Pretorians, and heeding at once his own safety and the emperor's request he remained most of the time outside of Rome. This state of affairs was not wholly satisfactory, and it is not surprising that after a short time Dio complained of a bad foot and asked leave to betake himself to Nicæa, his native place.
Here we must leave him. Whether his death came soon or late after 229 A.D. is a matter of some uncertainty. It would be difficult to make a more complete record out of the available material, save to say that from two casual references it is inferred that Dio had a wife and children, and that in his career he often, sometimes with imperial assistance, tried cases in court.