History of Roman Literature from its Earliest Period to the Augustan Age. Vol. II

by John Colin Dunlop

JULIUS CÆSAR,

in his historical works, been compared to Xenophon, the first memoir writer among the Greeks. Simplicity is the characteristic of both, but Xenophon has more rhetorical flow and sweetness of style, and he is sometimes, I think, a little mawkish; while the simplicity of Cæsar, on the other hand, borders, perhaps, on severity. Cæsar, too, though often circumstantial, is never diffuse, while Xenophon is frequently prolix, without being minute or accurate. “In the Latin work,” says Young, in his History of Athens, “we have the commentaries of a general vested with supreme command, and who felt no anxiety about the conduct or obedience of his army—in the Greek, we possess the journal of an officer in subordinate rank, though of high estimation. Hence the [pg 95]speeches of the one are replete with imperatorial dignity, those of the other are delivered with the conciliatory arts of argument and condescension. Hence, too, the mind of Xenophon was absorbed in the care and discipline of those under his command; but thence we are better acquainted with the Greek army than with that of Cæsar. Cæsar’s attention was ever directed to those he was to attack, to counteract, or to oppose—Xenophon’s to those he was to conduct. For the same reason, Xenophon is superficial with respect to any peculiarities of the nations he passed through; while in Cæsar we have a curious, and well authenticated detail, relative to the Gauls, the Britons, and every other enemy. The comparison, however, holds in this, that Cæsar, like Xenophon, was properly a writer of Memoirs. Like him, he aimed at nothing farther than communicating facts in a plain familiar manner; and the account of his campaign was only drawn up as materials for future history, not having leisure to bestow that ornament and dress which history requires.” In the opinion of his contemporaries, however, and all subsequent critics, he has rendered desperate any attempt to write the history of the wars of which he treats. “Dum voluit,” says Cicero, “alios habere parata, unde sumerent, qui vellent scribere historiam, sanos quidem homines a scribendo deterruit.” A similar opinion is given by his continuator Hirtius,—“Adeo probantur omnium judicio ut prærepta, non præbita, facultas scriptoribus videatur.”

Cæsar’s Commentaries consist of seven books of the Gallic, and three of the civil wars. Some critics, however, particularly Floridus Sabinus[196], deny that he was the author of the books on the latter war, while Carrio and Ludovicus Caduceus doubt of his being the author even of the Gallic war,—the last of these critics attributing the work to Suetonius. Hardouin, who believed that most of the works now termed classical, were forgeries of the monks in the thirteenth century, also tried to persuade the world, that the whole account of the Gallic campaigns was a fiction, and that Cæsar had never drawn a sword in Gaul in his life. The testimony, however, of Cicero and Hirtius, who were contemporary with Cæsar,—of many authentic writers, who lived after him, as Suetonius, Strabo, and Plutarch,—and of all the old grammarians, must be considered as settling the question; for if such evidence is not implicitly trusted, there seems to be an end of all reliance on ancient authority.

Though these Commentaries comprehend but a small extent [pg 96]of time, and are not the general history of a nation, they embrace events of the highest importance, and they detail, perhaps, the greatest military operations to be found in ancient story. We see in them all that is great and consummate in the art of war. The ablest commander of the most martial people on the globe records the history of his own campaigns. Placed at the head of the finest army ever formed in the world, and one devoted to his fortunes, but opposed by military skill and prowess only second to its own, he, and the soldiers he commanded, may be almost extolled in the words in which Nestor praised the heroes who had gone before him:—

“Καρτισοι δη κεινοι ἐπιχθονιων τραφεν ανδρων,

Καρτισοι μεν ἐσαν και καρτισοις ἐμαχοντο,” ——

for the Gauls and Germans were among the bravest and most warlike nations then on earth, and Pompey was accounted the most consummate general of his age. No commander, it is universally admitted, ever had such knowledge of the mechanical part of war: He possessed the complete empire of the sea, and was aided by all the influence derived from the constituted authority of the state.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the whole Commentaries, is the account of the campaign in Spain against Afranius and Petreius, in which Cæsar, being reduced to extremities for want of provisions and forage, (in consequence of the bridges over the rivers, between which he had encamped, being broken down,) extricated himself from this situation, after a variety of skilful manœuvres, and having pursued Pompey’s generals into Celtiberia, and back again to Lerida, forced their legions to surrender, by placing them in those very difficulties from which he had so ably relieved his own army.

It is obvious that the greater part of such Commentaries must be necessarily occupied with the detail of warlike operations. The military genius of Rome breathes through the whole work, and it comprehends all the varieties which warfare offers to our interest, and perhaps, undue admiration—pitched battles, affairs of posts, encampments, retreats, marches in face of the foe through woods and over plains or mountains, passages of rivers, sieges, defence of forts, and those still more interesting accounts of the spirit and discipline of the enemies’ troops, and the talents of their generals. In his clear and scientific details of military operations, Cæsar is reckoned superior to every writer, except, perhaps, Polybius. Some persons have thought he was too minute, and that, by describing every evolution performed in a battle, he has rendered his [pg 97]relations somewhat crowded. But this was his principle, and it served the design of the author.

As he records almost nothing at which he was not personally present, or heard of from those acting under his immediate directions, he possessed the best information with regard to everything of which he wrote[197]. In general, when he speaks of himself, it is without affectation or arrogance. He talks of Cæsar as of an indifferent person, and always maintains the character which he has thus assumed; indeed, it can hardly be conceived that he had so small a share in the great actions he describes, as appears from his own representations. With exception of the false colours with which he disguises his ambitious projects against the liberties of his country, everything seems to be told with fidelity and candour. Nor is there any very unfair concealment of the losses he may have sustained: he ingenuously acknowledges his own disaster in the affair at Dyracchium; he admits the loss of 960 men, and the complete frustration of his whole plan for the campaign. When he relates his successes, on the other hand, it is with moderation. There is the utmost caution, reserve, and modesty, in his account of the battle of Pharsalia; and one would hardly conceive that the historian had any share in the action or victory. He in general acknowledges, that the events of war are beyond human control, and ascribes the largest share of success to the power of fortune. The rest he seems willing to attribute to the valour of his soldiers, and the good conduct of his military associates. Thus he gives the chief credit and glory of the great victory over Ariovistus to the presence of mind displayed by Crassus, who promptly made the signal to a body of men to advance and support one of the wings which was overpowered by the multitude of the enemy, and was beginning to give way. He does not even omit to do justice to the distinguished and generous valour of the two centurions, Pulfio and Varenus, or of the centurion Sextius Baculus, during the alarming attack by the Sicambri. On the other hand, when he has occasion to mention the failure of his friends, as in relating Curio’s defeat and death in Africa, he does it with tenderness and indulgence. Of his enemies, he speaks without insult or contempt; and even in giving his judgment upon a great military question, though he disapproves Pompey’s mode of waiting for the attack at Pharsalia, his own reasons [pg 98]for a contrary opinion are urged with deference and candour. The confident hopes which were entertained in Pompey’s camp—the pretensions and disputes of the leading senators, about the division of patronage and officers, and the confiscations which were supposed to be just falling within their grasp, furnished him with some amusing anecdotes, which it must have been difficult to resist inserting; nor can we wonder, that while all the preparations for celebrating the anticipated victory with luxury and festivity, were matters of ocular observation, he should have devoted some few passages in his Commentaries, to recording the vanity and presumption of such fond expectations. Labienus, who had deserted him, and Scipio, who gave him so much trouble, by rekindling the war, are those of whom he speaks with the greatest rancour, in relating the cruelty of the former, and the tyrannical ingenious rapacity of the latter[198].

Whatever concerns the events of the civil war could not easily have been falsified or misrepresented. So many enemies, who had been eye-witnesses of everything, survived that period, that the author could scarcely have swerved from the truth without detection. But in his contests with the Gauls, and Germans, and Britons, there was no one to contradict him. Those who accompanied him were devoted to his fame and fortunes, and interested like himself in exalting the glory of these foreign exploits. That he has varnished over the real motives, and also the issue, of his expedition to Britain has been frequently suspected. The reason he himself assigns for the undertaking is, that he understood supplies had been thence furnished to the enemy, in almost all the Gallic wars; but Suetonius asserts, that the information he had received of the quantity and size of the pearls on the British coast, was his real inducement. Fourteen short chapters in the fourth book of the Gallic war, relate his first visit, and his hasty return; and sixteen in the fifth, detail his progress in the following summer. These chapters have derived importance from containing the earliest authentic memorials of the inhabitants and state of this island; and there has, of course, been much discussion on the genuine though imperfect notices they afford. Various tracts, chiefly published in the Archæologia, have topographically followed the various steps of Cæsar’s progress, particularly his passage across the Thames, and have debated the situation of the Portus Iccius, from which he embarked for Britain.

Cæsar’s occasional digressions concerning the manners of [pg 99]the Gauls and Germans, are also highly interesting and instructive, and are the only accounts to be at all depended on with regard to the institutions and customs of these two great nations, at that remote period. In Gaul he had remained so long, and had so thoroughly studied the habits and customs of its people for his own political purposes, that whatever is delivered concerning that country, may be confidently relied on. His intercourse with the German tribes was occasional, and chiefly of a military description. Some of his observations on their manners—as their hospitality, the continence of their youth, and the successive occupation of different lands by the same families—are confirmed by Tacitus; but in other particulars, especially in what relates to their religion, he is contradicted by that great historian. Cæsar declares that they have no sacrifices, and know no gods, but those, like the Sun or Moon, which are visible, and whose benefits they enjoy[199]. Tacitus informs us, that their chief god is Mercury, whom they appease by human victims; that they also sacrifice animals to Hercules and Mars; and adore that Secret Intelligence, which is only seen in the eye of mental veneration[200]. The researches of modern writers have also thrown some doubts on the accuracy of Cæsar’s German topography; and Cluverius, in particular, has attempted to show, that he has committed many errors in speaking both of the Germans and Batavians[201].

As the Commentaries of Cæsar do not pretend to the elaborate dignity of history, the author can scarcely be blamed if he has detailed his facts without mingling many reflections or observations. He seldom inserts a political or characteristic remark, though he had frequent opportunities for both, in describing such singular people as the Gauls, Germans, and Britons. But his object was not, like Sallust or Tacitus, to deduce practical reflections for the benefit of his reader, or to explain the political springs of the transactions he relates. His simple narrative was merely intended for the gratification of those Roman citizens, whom he had already persuaded to favour his ambitious projects; yet even they, I think, might have wished to have heard something more of what may be called the military motives of his actions. He tells us of his [pg 100]marches, retreats, and encampments, but seldom sufficiently explains the grounds on which these warlike measures were undertaken—how they advanced his own plans, or frustrated the designs of the enemy. More insight into the military views by which he was prompted, would have given additional interest and animation to his narrative, and afforded ampler lessons of instruction.

No person, I presume, wishes to be told, for the twentieth time, that the style of Cæsar is remarkable for clearness and ease, and a simplicity more truly noble than the pomp of words. Perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of his style, is its perfect equality of expression. There was, in the mind of Cæsar, a serene and even dignity. In temper, nothing appeared to agitate or move him—in conduct, nothing diverted him from the attainment of his end. In like manner, in his style, there is nothing swelling or depressed, and not one word occurs which is chosen for the mere purpose of embellishment. The opinion of Cicero, who compared the style of Cæsar to the unadorned simplicity of an ancient Greek statue, may be considered as the highest praise, since he certainly entertained no favourable feelings towards the author; and the style was very different from that which he himself employed in his harangues, or philosophical works, or even in his correspondence. “Nudi sunt,” says he, “recti, et venusti, omni ornatu orationis tanquam veste detracto.” This exquisite purity was not insensibly obtained, as the Lælian and Mucian Families are said to have acquired it, by domestic habit and familiar conversation, but by assiduous study and thorough knowledge of the Latin language[202], and the practice of literary composition, to which Cæsar had been accustomed from his earliest youth[203].

But, however admirable for its purity and elegance, the style of Cæsar seems to be somewhat deficient, both in vivacity and vigour. Walchius, too, has pointed out a few words, which he considers not of pure Latinity, as ambactus, a term employed by the Gauls and Germans to signify a servant—also Ancorarii funes, a word nowhere else used as an adjective—Antemittere for premittere, and summo magistratu præiverat for magistratui[204]. The use of such words as collabefieret, contabulatio, detrimentosum, explicitius, materiari, would lead us to suspect that Cæsar had not always attended to the rule which he so strongly laid down in his book, De Analogia, [pg 101]to avoid, as a rock, every unusual word or expression. Bergerus, in an immense quarto, entitled De Naturali pulchritudine Orationis has at great length attempted to show that Cæsar had anticipated all the precepts subsequently delivered by Longinus, for reaching the utmost excellence and dignity of composition. He points out his conformity to these rules, in what he conceives to be the abridgments, amplifications, transitions, gradations,—in short, all the various figures and ornaments of speech, which could be employed by the most pedantic rhetorician; and he also critically examines those few words and phrases of questionable purity, which are so thinly scattered through the Commentaries.

Mankind usually judge of a literary composition by its intrinsic merit, without taking into consideration the age of the author, the celerity with which it was composed, or the various circumstances under which it was written; and in this, perhaps, they act not unjustly, since their business is with the work, and not with the qualities of the author. But were such things to be taken into view, it should be remembered, that these Memoirs were hastily drawn up during the tumult and anxiety of campaigns, and were jotted down from day to day, without care or premeditation. “Ceteri,” says Hirtius, the companion of Cæsar’s expeditions, and the continuator of his Commentaries,—“Ceteri quam bene atque emendate; nos etiam quam facile atque celeriter eos perscripserit scimus.”

The Commentaries, De Bello Gallico, and De Bello Civili, are the only productions of Cæsar which remain to us. Several ancient writers speak of his Ephemeris, or Diary; but it has been doubted whether the work, so termed by Plutarch, Servius, Symmachus, and several others, be the same book as the Commentaries, or a totally different production. The former opinion is adopted by Fabricius, who thinks that Ephemeris, or Ephemerides, is only another name for the Commentaries, which in fact may be considered as having been written in the manner and form of a diary. He acknowledges, that several passages, cited by Servius, as taken from these Ephemerides, are not now to be found in the Commentaries; but then he maintains that there are evidently defects (lacunæ) in the latter work; and he conjectures that the words quoted by Servius are part of the lost passages of the Commentaries. This opinion is followed by Vossius, who cites a sort of Colophon at the end of one of the oldest MSS. of the Commentaries which he thinks decisive of the question, as it shows that the term Ephemeris was currently applied to them.—“C. J. Cæsaris, P. M. Ephemeris rerum Gestarum Belli Gallici, Lib. VIII. explicit feliciter.”

Bayle, in his Dictionary, has supported the opposite theory. He believes the Ephemeris to have been a journal of the author’s life. He admits, that a passage which Plutarch quotes as from the Ephemeris, occurs also in the fourth book of the Commentaries; but then he maintains, that it was impossible for Cæsar not to have frequently mentioned the same thing in his Commentaries and Journal, and he thinks, that had Plutarch meant to allude to the former, he would have called them, not Ephemeris, but ὑπομνηματα as Strabo has termed them. Besides, Polyænus mentions divers warlike stratagems, as recorded by Cæsar, which are not contained in the Commentaries, and which, therefore, could have been explained only in the separate work Ephemeris.

There are still some fragments remaining of the letters which Cæsar addressed to the Senate and his friends, and also of his orations, which were considered as inferior only to those of Cicero. Of his rhetorical talents, something may be hereafter said. It appears that his qualities as an orator and historian, were very different, since vehemence and the power of exciting emotion, (concitatio,) are mentioned as the characteristics of his harangues. Some of them were delivered in behalf of clients, and on real business, in the Forum; but the two orations entitled Anticatones were merely written in the form and manner of accusations before a judicial tribunal. These rhetorical declamations, which were composed about the time of the battle of Munda, were intended as an answer to the laudatory work of Cicero, called Laus Catonis. The author particularly considered in them the last act of Cato at Utica, and has raked up all the vices and defects of his character, whether real or imputed, public or private,—his ambition, affectation of singularity, churlishness, and avarice; but as the Anticatones were seasoned with lavish commendations of Cicero, whose panegyric on Cato they were intended to confute, the orator felt much flattered with the dictatorial incense, and greatly admired the performances in which it was offered,—“Collegit vitia Catonis, sed cum maximis laudibus meis[205].”

These two rival works were much celebrated at Rome; and both of them had their several admirers, as different parties and interests disposed men to favour the subject, or the author of each. It seems also certain, that they were the principal cause of establishing and promoting that veneration which posterity has since paid to the memory of Cato; for his name being thrown into controversy in that critical period of the [pg 103]fate of Rome, by the patron of liberty on one side, and its oppressor on the other, it became a kind of political test to all succeeding ages, and a perpetual argument of dispute between the friends of freedom, and the flatterers of power[206]. The controversy was taken up by Brutus, the nephew, and Fabius Gallus, an admirer of Cato: it was renewed by Augustus, who naturally espoused the royal side of the question, and by Thraseas Pætus, who ventured on this dangerous topic during the darkest days of imperial despotism.

Cæsar’s situation as Pontifex Maximus probably led him to write the Auguralia and Libri Auspiciorum, which, as their names import, were books explaining the different auguries and presages derived from the flight of birds. To the same circumstance we may attribute his work on the motions of the stars, De Motu Siderum, which explains what he had learned in Egypt on that subject from Sosigenes, a peripatetic philosopher of Alexandria, and in which, if we may credit the elder Pliny, he prognosticated his own death on the ides of March[207].

The composition of the works hitherto mentioned naturally enough suggested itself to a high-priest, warrior, and politician, who was also fond of literature, and had the same command of his pen as of his sword. But it appears singular, that one so much occupied with war, and with political schemes for the ruin of his country, should have seriously employed himself in writing formal and elaborate treatises on grammar. There is no doubt, however, that he composed a work, in two books, on the analogies of the Latin tongue, which was addressed to Cicero, and was entitled, like the preceding work of Varro on the same subject, De Analogia. It was written, as we are informed by Suetonius, while crossing the Alps, on his return to the army from Hither Gaul, where he had gone to attend the assemblies of that province[208]. In this book, the great principle established by him was, that the proper choice of words formed the foundation of eloquence[209]; and he cautioned authors and public speakers to avoid as a rock every unusual word or unwonted expression[210]. His declensions, however, of some nouns, appear, at least to us, not a little strange—as turbo, turbonis, instead of turbinis[211]; and likewise his inflections of verbs,—as, mordeo, memordi; pungo,, pepugi; spondeo, spepondi[212]. He also treated of derivatives; as we are informed, that he derived ens from the verb sum, es, est; and of rules of grammar,—as that the dative and ablative singular [pg 104]of neuters in e are the same, as also of neuters in ar, except far and jubar. It appears that he even descended to the most minute consideration of orthography and the formation of letters; Thus, he was of opinion, that the letter V should be formed like an inverted F,—thus Ⅎ,—because it has the force of the Æolic digamma. Cassiodorus farther mentions, that, in the question with regard to the use of the u or i in such words as maxumus or maximus, Cæsar gave the preference to i; and, from such high authority, this spelling was adopted in general practice.

It has been said, that Cæsar also made a collection of apophthegms and anecdotes, in the style of our modern Ana; but Augustus prevented these from being made public. That emperor likewise, in a letter to Pompeius Macrus, to whom he had given the charge of arranging his library, prohibited the publication of several poetical effusions of Cæsar’s youth. These are said to have consisted of a tragedy on the subject of Œdipus, and a poem in praise of Hercules[213]. Another poem, entitled Iter was written by him in maturer age. It is said, by Suetonius, to have been composed when he reached Farther Spain, on the twenty-fourth day after his departure from Rome[214]; and it may therefore be conjectured to have been a poetical relation of the incidents which occurred during that journey, embellished, perhaps, with descriptions of the most striking scenery through which he passed. Two epigrams, which are still extant, have also been frequently attributed to him; one on the dramatic character of Terence, already quoted[215], and another on a Thracian boy, who, while playing on the ice, fell into the river Hebrus,—

“Thrax puer, astricto glacie dum luderet Hebro,” &c.

But this last is, with more probability, supposed by many to have been the production of Cæsar Germanicus.

There were also several useful and important works accomplished under the eye and direction of Cæsar, such as the graphic survey of the whole Roman empire. Extensive as their conquests had been, the Romans hitherto had done almost nothing for geography, considered as a science. Their knowledge was confined to the countries they had subdued, and them they regarded only with a view to the levies they could furnish, and the taxations they could endure. Cæsar was the first who formed more exalted plans. Æthicus, a writer of the fourth century, informs us, in the preface to his Cosmographia, [pg 105]that this great man obtained a senatusconsultum, by which a geometrical survey and measurement of the whole Roman empire was enjoined to three geometers. Xenodoxus was charged with the eastern, Polycletus with the southern, and Theodotus with the northern provinces. Their scientific labour was immediately commenced, but was not completed till more than thirty years after the death of him with whom the undertaking had originated. The information which Cæsar had received from the astronomer Sosigenes in Egypt, enabled him to alter and amend the Roman calendar. It would be foreign from my purpose to enter into an examination of this system of the Julian year, but the computation he adopted has been explained, as is well known, by Scaliger and Gassendi[216]; and it has been since maintained, with little farther alteration than that introduced by Pope Gregory XIII. When we consider the imperfection of all mathematical instruments in the time of Cæsar, and the total want of telescopes, we cannot but view with admiration, not unmixed with astonishment, that comprehensive genius, which, in the infancy of science, could surmount such difficulties, and compute a system, that experienced but a trifling derangement in the course of sixteen centuries.

Although Cæsar wrote with his own hand only seven books of the Gallic campaigns, and the history of the civil wars till the death of his great rival, it seems highly probable, that he revised the last or eighth book of the Gallic war, and communicated information for the history of the Alexandrian and African expeditions, which are now usually published along with his own Commentaries, and may be considered as their supplement, or continuation. The author of these works, which nearly complete the interesting story of the campaigns of Cæsar, was Aulus Hirtius, one of his most zealous followers, and most confidential friends. He had been nominated Consul for the year following the death of his master; and, after that event, having espoused the cause of freedom, he was slain in the attack made by the forces of the republic on Antony’s camp, near Modena.

The eighth book of the Gallic war contains the account of the renewal of the contest by the states of Gaul, after the surrender of Alesia, and of the different battles which ensued, at most of which Hirtius was personally present, till the final pacification, when Cæsar, learning the designs which were forming against him at Rome, set out for Italy.

Cæsar, in the conclusion of the third book of the Civil War, mentions the commencement of the Alexandrian war. Hirtius was not personally present at the succeeding events of this Egyptian contest, in which Cæsar was involved with the generals of Ptolemy, nor during his rapid campaigns in Pontus against Pharnaces, and against the remains of the Pompeian party in Africa, where they had assembled under Scipio, and being supported by Juba, still presented a formidable appearance. He collected, however, the leading events from the conversation of Cæsar[217], and the officers who were engaged in these campaigns. He has obviously imitated the style of his master; and the resemblance which he has happily attained, has given an appearance of unity and consistence to the whole series of these well-written and authentic memoirs. It appears that Hirtius carried down the history even to the death of Cæsar, for in his preface addressed to Balbus, he says, that he had brought down what was left imperfect from the transactions at Alexandria, to the end, not of the civil dissensions, to a termination of which there was no prospect, but of the life of Cæsar[218].

This latter part, however, of the Commentaries of Hirtius, has been lost, as it seems now to be generally acknowledged that he was not the author of the book De Bello Hispanico, which relates Cæsar’s second campaign in Spain, undertaken against young Cneius Pompey, who, having assembled, in the ulterior province of that country, those of his father’s party who had survived the disasters in Thessaly and Africa, and being joined by some of the native states, presented a formidable resistance to the power of Cæsar, till his hopes were terminated by the decisive battle of Munda. Dodwell, indeed, in a Dissertation on this subject, maintains, that it was originally written by Hirtius, but was interpolated by Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan writer of the 6th or 7th century. Vossius, however, whose opinion is that more commonly received, attributes it to Caius Oppius[219], who wrote the Lives of Illustrious Captains, and also a book to prove that the Ægyptian Cæsario was not the son of Cæsar. Oppius was Cæsar’s confidential friend, and companion in many of his enterprizes; and it was to him, as we are informed by Suetonius, that Cæsar gave up the only apartment at an inn, while they were travel[pg 107]ling in Gaul, and lay himself on the ground, and in the open air[220].

A fragment has been added at the end of this book, on the Spanish war, by Jungerman, from a MS. of Petavius. Vossius thinks that this fragment was taken from the Commentaries, called those of Julius Celsus, on the Life of Cæsar, published in 1473. These Commentaries, however, were the work of a Christian writer; but Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan of the 6th century, already mentioned, having revised the Commentaries of Cæsar, the work on his life came, (from the confusion of names, or perhaps from a fiction devised, to give the stamp of authority,) to be attributed to Julius Celsus, who was contemporary with Cæsar, and was reported to have written a history of his campaigns; just in the same way as a fabulous life of Alexander, produced in the middle ages, passes to this day under the name of Callisthenes, the historiographer of the Macedonian monarch.

There is no other historian of the period on which we are now engaged, of whose works even any fragments have descended to us. Atticus, however, wrote Memoirs of Rome from the earliest periods, and also memoirs of its principal families, as the Junian, Cornelian, and Fabian,—tracing their origin, enumerating their honours, and recording their exploits. At the same time Lucceius composed Histories of the Social War, and of the Civil Wars of Sylla, which were so highly esteemed by Cicero, that he urges him in one of his letters to undertake a history of his consulship, in which he discovered and suppressed the conspiracy of Catiline[221]. From a subsequent letter to Atticus we learn that Lucceius had promised to accomplish the task suggested to him[222]. It is probable, however, that it never was completed,—his labour having been interrupted by the civil wars, in which he followed the fortunes of Pompey, and was indeed one of his chief advisers in adopting the fatal resolution of quitting Italy.

The Annals of Procilius, which appeared at this period, may be conjectured to have comprehended the whole series of Roman history, from the building of the city to his own time; since Varro quotes him for the account of Curtius throwing himself into the gulf[223] and Pliny refers to him for some remarks with regard to the elephants which appeared at Pompey’s African triumph[224].

Brutus is also said to have written epitomes of the meagre and barren histories of Fannius and Antipater. That he should [pg 108]have thought of abridging narratives so proverbially dry and jejune, seems altogether inexplicable.

The works of an historian called Cæcina have also perished, and if we may trust to his own account of them, their loss is not greatly to be deplored. In one of his letters to Cicero he says, “From much have I been compelled to refrain, many things I have been forced to pass over lightly, many to curtail, and very many absolutely to omit. Thus circumscribed, restricted, and broken as it is, what pleasure or what useful information can be expected from the recital[225]?”

We have thus traced the progress of historical composition among the Romans, from its commencement to the time of Augustus. There is no history so distinguished and adorned as the Roman, by illustrious characters; and the circumstances which it records produced the greatest as well as most permanent empire that ever existed on earth. The interest of the early events, and the value of the conclusions to be drawn from them, are much diminished by their uncertainty. Subsequently, however, to the second Punic war, the Roman historians were, for the most part, themselves engaged in the affairs of which they treat, and had therefore, at least, the most perfect means of communicating accurate information. But this advantage, which, in one point of view, is so prodigious, was attended with concomitant evils. Lucian, in his treatise, How History ought to be Written, says, that the author of this species of composition should be abstracted from all connection with the persons and things which are its subjects; that he should be of no country and no party; that he should be free from all passion, and unconcerned who is pleased or offended with what he writes. Now, the Roman historians of the era on which we are engaged were the slaves of party or the heads of factions; and even when superior to all petty interests or prejudices, they still show plainly that they are Romans. None of them stood impartially aloof from their subject, or supplied the want of historians of Carthage and of Gaul, by whom their narratives might be corrected, and their colouring softened.

Of all the arts next to war, Eloquence was of most importance in Rome; since, if the former led to the conquest of foreign states, the latter opened to each individual a path to empire and dominion over the minds of his fellow citizens[226]. [pg 109]Without this art, wisdom itself, in the estimation of Cicero, could be of little avail for the advantage or glory of the commonwealth[227].

During the existence of the monarchy, and in the early age of the republic, law proceedings were not numerous. Many civil suits were prevented by the absolute dominion which a Roman father exercised over his family; and the rigour of the decemviral laws, in which all the proceedings were extreme, frequently concussed parties into an accommodation; while, at the same time, the purity of ancient manners had not yet given rise to those criminal questions of bribery and peculation at home, or of oppression and extortion in the provinces, which disgraced the closing periods of the commonwealth, and furnished themes for the glowing invective of Cicero and Hortensius. Hence there was little room for the exercise of legal oratory; and whatever eloquence may have shone forth in the early ages of Rome, was probably of a political description, and exerted on affairs of state.

From the earliest times of the republic, history records the wonderful effects which Junius Brutus, Publicola, and Appius Claudius, produced by their harangues, in allaying seditions, and thwarting pernicious counsels. Dionysius of Halicarnassus gives us a formal speech, which Romulus, by direction of his grandfather, made to the people after the building of the city, on the subject of the government to be established[228]. There are also long orations of Servius Tullius; and great part of the Antiquities of Dionysius is occupied with senatorial debates during the early ages of the republic. But though the orations of these fathers of Roman eloquence were doubtless delivered with order, gravity, and judgment, and may have possessed a masculine vigour, well calculated to animate the courage of the soldier, and protect the interests of the state, we must not form our opinion of them from the long speeches in Dionysius and Livy, or suppose that they were adorned with any of that rhetoric art with which they have been invested by these historians. A nation of outlaws, destined from their cradle to the profession of arms,—taught only to hurl the spear or javelin, and inure their bodies to other martial exercises,—with souls breathing only conquest,—and regarded as the enemies of every state till they had become its masters, could have possessed but few topics of illustration or embellishment, and were not likely to cultivate any species of rhetorical refinement. To convince by solid arguments when [pg 110]their cause was good, and to fill their fellow-citizens with passions corresponding to those with which they were themselves animated, would be the great objects of an eloquence supplied by nature and unimproved by study. Quintilian accordingly informs us, that though there appeared in the ancient orations some traces of original genius, and much force of argument, they bore, in their rugged and unpolished periods, the signs of the times in which they were delivered.

With exception of the speech of Appius Claudius to oppose a peace with Pyrrhus, there are no harangues mentioned by the Latin critics or historians as possessing any charms of oratory, previously to the time of Cornelius Cethegus, who flourished during the second Punic war, and was Consul about the year 550. Cethegus was particularly distinguished for his admirable sweetness of elocution and powers of persuasion, whence he is thus characterized by Ennius, a contemporary poet, in the 9th book of his Annals:

“Additur orator Cornelius suaviloquenti

Ore Cethegus Marcus, Tuditano collega;

Flos delibatus populi, suadæque medulla.”

The orations of Cato the Censor have been already mentioned as remarkable for their rude but masculine eloquence. When Cato was in the decline of life, a more rich and copious mode of speaking at length began to prevail. Ser. Galba, by the warmth and animation of his delivery, eclipsed Cato and all his contemporaries. He was the first among the Romans who displayed the distinguishing talents of an orator, by embellishing his subject,—by digressing, amplifying, entreating, and employing what are called topics, or common-places of discourse. On one occasion, while defending himself against a grave accusation, he melted his judges to compassion, by producing an orphan relative, whose father had been a favourite of the people. When his orations, however, were afterwards reduced to writing, their fire appeared extinguished, and they preserved none of that lustre with which his discourses are said to have shone when given forth by the living orator. Cicero accounts for this from his want of sufficient study and art in composition. While his mind was occupied and warmed by the subject, his language was bold and rapid; but when he took up the pen, his emotion ceased, and the periods fell languid from its point; “which,” continues he, “never happened to those who, having cultivated a more studied and polished style of oratory, wrote as they spoke. Hence the mind of Lælius yet breathes in his writings, though the force of Galba has failed.” It appears, however, from an anecdote recorded by [pg 111]Cicero, that Galba was esteemed the first orator of his age by the judges, the people, and Lælius himself.—Lælius, being intrusted with the defence of certain persons suspected of having committed a murder in the Silian forest, spoke for two days, correctly, elegantly, and with the approbation of all, after which the Consuls deferred judgment. He then recommended the accused to carry their cause to Galba, as it would be defended by him with more heat and vehemence. Galba, in consequence, delivered a most forcible and pathetic harangue, and after it was finished, his clients were absolved as if by acclamation[229]. Hence Cicero surmises, that though Lælius might be the more learned and acute disputant, Galba possessed more power over the passions; he also conjectures, that the former had more elegance, but the latter more force; and he concludes, that the orator who can move or agitate his judges, farther advances his cause than he who can instruct them.

Lælius is also compared by Cicero with his friend, the younger Scipio Africanus, in whose presence, this question concerning the Silian murder was debated. They were almost equally distinguished for their eloquence; and they resembled each other in this respect, that they both invariably delivered themselves in a smooth manner, and never, like Galba, exerted themselves with loudness of speech or violence of gesture[230]; but their style of oratory was different,—Lælius affecting a much more ancient phraseology than that adopted by his friend. Cicero himself seems inclined most to admire the rhetoric of Scipio; but he says, that, being so renowned a captain, and mankind being unwilling to allow supremacy to one individual, in what are considered as the two greatest of arts, his contemporaries for the most part awarded to Lælius the palm of eloquence.

The intercourse which was by this time opening up with Greece, and the encouragement now afforded to Greek teachers, who always possessed the undisputed privilege of dictating the precepts of the arts, produced the same improvement m oratory that it had effected in every branch of literature. Marcus Emilius Lepidus was a little younger than Galba or Scipio, and was Consul in 617. From his orations, which were extant in the time of Cicero, it appeared that he was the first who, in imitation of the Greeks, gave harmony and sweetness to his periods, or the graces of a style regularly polished and improved by art.

Cicero mentions a number of other orators of the same age [pg 112]with Lepidus, and minutely paints their peculiar styles of rhetoric. We find among them the names of almost all the eminent men of the period, as Emilius Paulus, Scipio Nasica, and Mucius Scævola. The importance of eloquence for the purposes of political aggrandizement, is sufficiently evinced, from this work of Cicero, De Claris Oratoribus, since there is scarcely an orator mentioned, even of inferior note, who did not at this time rise to the highest offices in the state.

The political situation of Rome, and the internal inquietude which now succeeded its foreign wars, were the great promoters of eloquence. We hear of no orators in Sparta or Crete, where the severest discipline was exercised, and where the people were governed by the strictest laws. But Rhodes and Athens, places of popular rule, where all things were open to all men, swarmed with orators. In like manner, Rome, when most torn with civil dissensions, produced the brightest examples of eloquence. Cicero declares, that wisdom without eloquence was of little service to the state[231]; and from the political circumstances of the times, that sort of oratory was most esteemed which had most sway over a restless and ungovernable multitude. The situation of public affairs occasioned those continual debates concerning the Agrarian Laws, and the consequent popularity acquired by the most factious demagogues. Hence, too, those frequent impeachments of the great—those ambitious designs of the patricians—those hereditary enmities in particular families—in fine, those incessant struggles between the Senate and plebeians, which, though all prejudicial to the commonwealth, contributed to swell and ramify that rich vein of eloquence, which now flowed so profusely through the agitated frame of the state. During the whole period previous to the actual breaking out of the civil wars, when the Romans turned the sword against each other, and the mastery of the world depended on its edge, oratory continued to open the most direct path to dignities. The farther a Roman citizen advanced in this career, so much nearer was he to preferment, so much the greater his reputation with the people; and when elevated to the dignified offices of the state, so much the higher his ascendancy over his colleagues.

The Gracchi were the genuine offspring, and their eloquence the natural fruits of these turbulent times. Till their age, oratory had been a sort of Arcanum imperii,—an instrument of government in the power of the Senate, who used every precaution to retain its exclusive exercise. It was the [pg 113]great bulwark that withstood the tide of popular passion, and weakened it so as not to beat too high or strongly on their own order and authority. The Gracchi not only broke down the embankment, but turned the flood against the walls of the Senate itself. The interests of the people had never yet been espoused by men endued with eloquence equal to theirs. Cicero, while blaming their political conduct, admits that both were consummate orators; and this he testifies from the recollection of persons still surviving in his day, and who remembered their mode of speaking. Indeed, the wonderful power which both brothers exercised over the people is a sufficient proof of their eloquence. Tiberius Gracchus was the first who made rhetoric a serious study and art. In his boyhood, he was carefully instructed in elocution by his mother Cornelia: he also constantly attended the ablest and most eloquent masters from Greece, and, as he grew up, he bestowed much time on the exercise of private declamation. It is not likely, that, gifted as he was by nature, and thus instructed, the powers of eloquence should long have remained dormant in his bosom. At the time when he first appeared on the turbulent stage of Roman life, the accumulation of landed property among a few individuals, and the consequent abuse of exorbitant wealth, had filled Italy with slaves instead of citizens—had destroyed the habits of rural industry among the people at large, and leaving only rich masters at the head of numerous and profligate servants, gradually rooted out those middle classes of society which constitute the strength, the worth, and the best hopes of every well-regulated commonwealth. It is said, that while passing through Etruria on his way to Numantia, Tiberius Gracchus found the country almost depopulated of freemen, and thence first formed the project of his Agrarian law, which was originally intended to correct the evils arising from the immense landed possessions of the rich, by limiting them to the number of acres specified in the ancient enactments[232], and dividing the conquered territories among the poorer citizens. Preparatory to its promulgation, he was wont to assemble the people round the rostrum, where he pleaded for the poor, in language of which we have a specimen in Plutarch: “The wild beasts of Italy have their dens to retire to—their places of refuge and repose; while the brave men who shed their blood in the cause of their country, have nothing left but fresh air and sunshine. Without houses, without settled habitations, they wander from place to place with their wives and children; and their commanders do but [pg 114]mock them, when, at the head of their armies, they exhort their soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars. For, among such numbers, there is not one Roman who has an altar which belonged to his ancestors, or a tomb in which their ashes repose. The private soldiers fight and die to increase the wealth and luxury of the great; and they are styled sovereigns of the world, while they have not a foot of ground they can call their own[233].” By such speeches as these, the people were exasperated to fury, and the Senate was obliged to have recourse to Octavius, who, as one of the tribunes, was the colleague of Gracchus, to counteract the effects of his animated eloquence. Irritated by this opposition, Gracchus abandoned the first plan of his law, which was to give indemnification from the public treasury to those who should be deprived of their estates, and proposed a new bill, by which they were enjoined forthwith to quit those lands which they held contrary to previous enactments. On this subject there were daily disputes between him and Octavius on the rostrum. Finding that his plans could not otherwise be accomplished he resolved on the expedient of deposing his colleague; and thenceforth, to the period of his death, his speeches (one of which is preserved by Plutarch) were chiefly delivered in persuasion or justification of that violent measure.

Caius Gracchus was endued with higher talents than Tiberius, but the resentment he felt on account of his brother’s death, and eager desire for vengeance, led him into measures which have darkened his character with the shades of the demagogue. At the time of his brother’s death he had only reached the age of twenty. In early youth, he distinguished himself by the defence of one of his friends named Vettius, and charmed the people by the eloquence which he exerted. He appears soon afterwards to have been impelled, as it were, by a sort of destiny, to the same political course which had proved fatal to his brother, and which terminated in his own destruction. His speeches were all addressed to the people, and were delivered in proposing laws, calculated to increase their authority, and lessen that of the Senate,—as those for colonizing the public lands, and dividing them among the poor; for regulating the markets, so as to diminish the price of bread, and for vesting the judicial power in the knights. A fragment of his speech, De Legibus Promulgatis, is said to have been recently discovered, with other classical remains, in the Ambrosian Library. Aulus Gellius also quotes from this harangue, a passage, in which the orator complained that some respect[pg 115]able citizens of a municipal town in Italy had been scourged with rods by a Roman magistrate. Gellius praises the conciseness, neatness, and graceful ease of the narrative, resembling dramatic dialogue, in which this incident was related. Similar, but only similar qualities, appear in his accusation of the Roman legate, who, while travelling to Asia in a litter, caused a peasant to be scourged to death, for having asked his slaves if it was a corpse they were carrying. “The relation of these events,” says Gellius, “does not rise above the level of ordinary conversation. It is not a person complaining or imploring, but merely relating what had occurred;” and he contrasts this tameness with the energy and ardour with which Cicero has painted the commission of a like enormity by Verres[234].

Though similar in many points of character and also in their political conduct, there was a marked difference in the style of eloquence, and forensic demeanour, of the two brothers. Tiberius, in his looks and gestures, was mild and composed—Caius, earnest and vehement; so that when they spoke in public, Tiberius had the utmost moderation in his action, and moved not from his place: whereas Caius was the first of the Romans, who, in addressing the people, walked to and fro in the rostrum, threw his gown off his shoulder, smote his thigh, and exposed his arm bare[235]. The language of Tiberius was laboured and accurate, that of Caius bold and figurative. The oratory of the former was of a gentle kind, and pity was the emotion it chiefly raised—that of the latter was strongly impassioned, and calculated to excite terror. In speaking, indeed, Caius was often so hurried away by the violence of his passion, that he exalted his voice above the regular pitch, indulged in abusive expressions, and disordered the whole tenor of his oration. In order to guard against such excesses, he stationed a slave behind him with an ivory flute, which was modulated so as to lead him to lower or heighten the tone of his voice, according as the subject required a higher or a softer key. “The flute,” says Cicero, “you may as well leave at home, but the meaning of the practice you must remember at the bar[236].”

In the time of the Gracchi, oratory became an object of assiduous and systematic study, and of careful education. A youth, intended for the profession of eloquence, was usually introduced to one of the most distinguished orators of the city, [pg 116]whom he attended when he had occasion to speak in any public or private cause, or in the assemblies of the people, by which means he heard not only him, but every other famous speaker. He thus became practically acquainted with business and the courts of justice, and learned the arts of oratoric conflict, as it were, in the field of battle. “It animated,” says the author of the dialogue De Causis Corruptæ Eloquentiæ,—“it animated the courage, and quickened the judgment of youth, thus to receive their instructions in the eye of the world, and in the midst of affairs, where no one could advance an absurd or weak argument, without being exposed by his adversary, and despised by the audience. Hence, they had also an opportunity of acquainting themselves with the various sentiments of the people, and observing what pleased or disgusted them in the several orators of the Forum. By these means they were furnished with an instructor of the best and most improving kind, exhibiting not the feigned resemblance of eloquence, but her real and lively manifestation—not a pretended but genuine adversary, armed in earnest for the combat—an audience ever full and ever new, composed of foes as well as of friends, and amongst whom not a single expression could fall but was either censured or applauded.”

The minute attention paid by the younger orators to all the proceedings of the courts of justice, is evinced by the fragment of a Diary, which was kept by one of them in the time of Cicero, and in which we have a record, during two days, of the various harangues that were delivered, and the judgments that were pronounced[237].

Nor were the advantages to be derived from fictitious oratorical contests long denied to the Roman youth. The practice of declaiming on feigned subjects, was introduced at Rome about the middle of its seventh century. The Greek rhetoricians, indeed, had been expelled, as well as the philosophers, towards the close of the preceding century; but, in the year 661, Plotius Gallus, a Latin rhetorician, opened a declaiming school at Rome. At this period, however, the declamations generally turned on questions of real business, and it was not till the time of Augustus, that the rhetoricians so far prevailed, as to introduce common-place arguments on fictitious subjects.

The eloquence which had originally been cultivated for seditious purposes, and for political advancement, began now to be considered by the Roman youth as an elegant accomplishment. It was probably viewed in the same light that we [pg 117]regard horsemanship or dancing, and continued to be so in the age of Horace—

“Namque, et nobilis, et decens,

Et pro sollicitis non tacitus reis,

Et centum puer artium,

Latè signa feret militiæ suæ[238].”

Under all these circumstances it is evident, that in the middle of the seventh century oratory would be neglected by none; and in an art so sedulously studied, and universally practised, many must have been proficients. It would be endless to enumerate all the public speakers mentioned by Cicero, whose catalogue is rather extensive and dry. We may therefore proceed to those two orators, whom he commemorates as having first raised the glory of Roman eloquence to an equality with that of Greece—Marcus Antonius, and Lucius Crassus.

The former, sirnamed Orator, and grandfather of the celebrated triumvir, was the most employed patron of his time; and, of all his contemporaries, was chiefly courted by clients, as he was ever willing to undertake any cause which was proposed to him. He possessed a ready memory, and remarkable talent of introducing everything where it could be placed with most effect. He had a frankness of manner which precluded any suspicion of artifice, and gave to all his orations an appearance of being the unpremeditated effusions of an honest heart. But though there was no apparent preparation in his speeches, he always spoke so well, that the judges were never sufficiently prepared against the effects of his eloquence. His language was not perfectly pure, or of a constantly sustained elegance, but it was of a solid and judicious character, well adapted to his purpose—his gesture, too, was appropriate, and suited to the sentiments and language—his voice was strong and durable, though naturally hoarse—but even this defect he turned to advantage, by frequently and easily adopting a mournful and querulous tone, which, in criminal questions, excited compassion, and more readily gained the belief of the judges. He left, however, as we are informed by Cicero, hardly any orations behind him[239], having resolved never to publish any of his pleadings, lest he should be convicted of maintaining in one cause something which was inconsistent with what he had alleged in another[240].

The first oration by which Antony distinguished himself, [pg 118]was in his own defence. He had obtained the quæstorship of a province of Asia, and had arrived at Brundusium to embank there, when his friends informed him that he had been summoned before the Prætor Cassius, the most rigid judge in Rome, whose tribunal was termed the rock of the accused. Though he might have pleaded a privilege, which forbade the admission of charges against those who were absent on the service of the republic, he chose to justify himself in due form. Accordingly, he returned to Rome, stood his trial, and was acquitted with honour[241].

One of the most celebrated orations which Antony pronounced, was that in defence of Norbanus, who was accused of sedition, and a violent assault on the magistrate, Æmilius Cæpio. He began by attempting to show from history, that seditions may sometimes be justifiable from necessity; that without them the kings would not have been expelled, or the tribunes of the people created. The orator then proceeded to insinuate, that his client had not been seditious, but that all had happened through the just indignation of the people; and he concluded with artfully attempting to renew the popular odium against Cæpio, who had been an unsuccessful commander[242].

What Cicero relates concerning Antony’s defence of Aquilius, is an example of his power in moving the passions, and is, at the same time, extremely characteristic of the manner of Roman pleading. Antony, who is one of the speakers in the dialogue De Oratore, is introduced relating it himself. Seeing his client, who had once been Consul and a leader of armies, reduced to a state of the utmost dejection and peril, he had no sooner begun to speak, with a view towards melting the compassion of others, than he was melted himself. Perceiving the emotion of the judges when he raised his client from the earth, on which he had thrown himself, he instantly took advantage of this favourable feeling. He tore open the garments of Aquilius, and showed the scars of those wounds which he had received in the service of his country. Even the stern Marius wept. Him the orator then apostrophized; imploring his protection, and invoking with many tears the gods, the citizens, and the allies of Rome. “But whatever I could have said,” remarks he in the dialogue, “had I delivered it without being myself moved, it would have excited the derision, instead of the sympathy, of those who heard me[243].”

Antony, in the course of his life, had passed through all the highest offices of the state. The circumstances of his death, which happened in 666, during the civil wars of Marius and Sylla, were characteristic of his predominant talent. During the last proscription by Marius, he sought refuge in the house of a poor person, whom he had laid under obligations to him in the days of his better fortune. But his retreat being discovered, from the circumstance of his host procuring for him some wine nicer than ordinary, the intelligence was carried to Marius, who received it with a savage shout of exultation, and, clapping his hands for joy, he would have risen from table, and instantly repaired to the place where his enemy was concealed; but, being detained by his friends, he immediately despatched a party of soldiers, under a tribune, to slay him. The soldiers having entered his chamber for this purpose, and Antony suspecting their errand, addressed them in terms of such moving and insinuating eloquence, that his assassins burst into tears, and had not sufficient resolution to execute their mission. The officer who commanded them then went in, and cut off his head[244], which he carried to Marius, who affixed it to that rostrum, whence, as Cicero remarks, he had ably defended the lives of so many of his fellow-citizens[245]; little aware that he would soon himself experience, from another Antony, a fate similar to that which he deplores as having befallen the grandsire of the triumvir.

Crassus, the forensic rival of Antony, had prepared himself in his youth, for public speaking, by digesting in his memory a chosen number of polished and dignified verses, or a certain portion of some oration which he had read over, and then delivering the same matter in the best words he could select[246]. Afterwards, when he grew a little older, he translated into Latin some of the finest Greek orations, and, at the same time, used every mental and bodily exertion to improve his voice, his action, and memory. He commenced his oratorical career at the early age of nineteen, when he acquired much reputation by his accusation of C. Carbo; and he, not long afterwards, greatly heightened his fame, by his defence of the virgin Licinia. Another of the best speeches of Crassus, was that addressed to the people in favour of the law of Servilius Cæpio, restoring in part the judicial power to the Senate, of which they had been recently deprived, in order to vest it solely in the body of knights. But the most, splendid of all the appearances of Crassus, was one that proved the immediate cause of his death, which happened in 662, a short while [pg 120]before the commencement of the civil wars of Marius and Sylla; and a few days after the time in which he is supposed to have borne his part in the dialogue De Oratore. The Consul Philippus had declared, in one of the assemblies of the people, that some other advice must be resorted to, since, with such a Senate as then existed, he could no longer direct the affairs of the government. A full Senate being immediately summoned, Crassus arraigned, in terms of the most glowing eloquence, the conduct of this Consul, who, instead of acting as the political parent and guardian of the Senate, sought to deprive its members of their ancient inheritance of respect and dignity. Being farther irritated by an attempt on the part of Philippus, to force him into compliance with his designs, he exerted, on this occasion, the utmost efforts of his genius and strength; but he returned home with a pleuritic fever, of which he died in the course of seven days. This oration of Crassus, followed as it was by his almost immediate death, made a deep impression on his countrymen; who, long afterwards, were wont to repair to the senate-house, for the purpose of viewing the spot where he had last stood, and fallen, as it may be said, in defence of the privileges of his order.

Crassus left hardly any orations behind him, and he died while Cicero was still in his boyhood; yet that author, having collected the opinions of those who had heard him, speaks with a minute and apparently perfect intelligence of his mode of oratory. He was what may be called the most ornamental speaker that had hitherto appeared in the Forum. Though not without force, gravity, and dignity, these were happily blended with the most insinuating politeness, urbanity, ease, and gaiety. He was master of the most pure and accurate language, and of perfect elegance of expression, without any affectation, or unpleasant appearance of previous study. Great clearness of exposition distinguished all his harangues, and, while descanting on topics of law or equity, he possessed an inexhaustible fund of argument and illustration. In speaking, he showed an uncommon modesty, which went even the length of bashfulness. When a young man, he was so intimidated at the opening of a speech, that Q. Maximus, perceiving him overwhelmed and disabled by confusion, adjourned the court, which the orator always remembered with the highest sense of gratitude. This diffidence never entirely forsook him; and, after the practice of a long life at the bar, he was frequently so much agitated in the exordium of his discourse, that he was observed to grow pale, and to tremble in every part of his frame[247]. Some persons considered [pg 121]Crassus as only equal to Antony; others preferred him as the more perfect and accomplished orator: Antony chiefly trusted to his intimate acquaintance with affairs and ordinary life: He was not, however, so destitute of knowledge as he seemed; but he thought the best way to recommend his eloquence to the people, was to appear as if he had never learned anything[248]. Crassus, on the other hand, was well instructed in literature, and showed off his information to the best advantage. Antony possessed the greater power of promoting conjecture, and of allaying or exciting suspicion, by opposite and well-timed insinuations; but no one could have more copiousness or facility than Crassus, in defining, interpreting, and discussing, the principles of equity. The language of Crassus was indisputably preferable to that of Antony; but the action and gesture of Antony were as incontestably superior to those of Crassus.

Sulpicius and Cotta, who were both born about 630, were younger orators than Antony or Crassus, but were for some time their contemporaries, and had risen to considerable reputation before the death of the latter and assassination of the former. Sulpicius lived for some years respected and admired; but, about the year 665, at the first breaking out of the dissensions between Sylla and Marius, being then a tribune of the people, he espoused the part of Marius. Plutarch gives a memorable account of his character and behaviour at this conjuncture, declaring that he was second to none in the most atrocious villainies. Alike unrestrained in avarice and cruelty, he committed the most criminal and enormous actions without hesitation or reluctance. He sold by public auction the freedom of Rome to foreigners—telling out the purchase-money on counters erected for that purpose in the Forum! He kept 3000 swordsmen in constant pay, and had always about him a company of young men of the equestrian order, ready on every occasion to execute his commands; and these he styled his anti-senatorian band[249]. Cicero touches on his crimes with more tenderness; but says, that when he came to be tribune, he stript of all their dignities those with whom, as a private individual, he had lived in the strictest friendship[250]. Whilst Marius kept his ground against his rival, Sulpicius transacted all public affairs, in his capacity of tribune, by violence and force of arms. He decreed to Marius the command in the Mithridatic war: He attacked the Consuls with his band while they were holding an assembly of the people in the Tem[pg 122]ple of Castor and Pollux, and deposed one of them[251]. Marius, however, having been at length expelled by the ascendancy of Sylla, Sulpicius was betrayed by one of his slaves, and immediately seized and executed. “Thus,” says Cicero, “the chastisement of his rashness went hand in hand with the misfortunes of his country; and the sword cut off the thread of that life, which was then blooming to all the honours that eloquence can bestow[252].”

Cicero had reached the age of nineteen, at the period of the death of Sulpicius. He had heard him daily speak in the Forum, and highly estimates his oratoric powers[253]. He was the most lofty, and what Cicero calls the most tragic, orator of Rome. His attitudes, deportment, and figure, were of supreme dignity—his voice was powerful and sonorous—his elocution rapid; his action variable and animated.

The constitutional weakness of Cotta prevented all such oratorical vehemence. In his manner he was soft and relaxed; but every thing he said was sober and in good taste, and he often led the judges to the same conclusion to which Sulpicius impelled them. “No two things,” says Cicero, “were ever more unlike than they are to each other. The one, in a polite, delicate manner, sets forth his subject in well-chosen expressions. He still keeps to his point; and, as he sees with the greatest penetration what he has to prove to the court, he directs to that the whole strength of his reasoning and eloquence, without regarding other arguments. But Sulpicius, endued with irresistible energy, with a full strong voice, with the greatest vehemence, and dignity of action, accompanied with so much weight and variety of expression, seemed, of all mankind, the best fitted by nature for eloquence.”

It was supposed that Cotta wished to resemble Antony, as Sulpicius obviously imitated Crassus; but the latter wanted the agreeable pleasantry of Crassus, and the former the force of Antony. None of the orations of Sulpicius remained in the time of Cicero—those circulated under his name having been written by Canutius after his death. The oration of Cotta for himself, when accused on the Varian law, was composed, it is said, at his request by Lucius Ælius; and, if this be true, nothing can appear to us more extraordinary, than that so accomplished a speaker as Cotta should have wished any of the trivial harangues of Ælius to pass for his own.

The renown, however, of all preceding orators, was now about to be eclipsed at Rome; and Hortensius burst forth in [pg 123]eloquence at once calculated to delight and astonish his fellow-citizens. This celebrated orator was born in the year 640, being thus ten years younger than Cotta and Sulpicius. His first appearance in the Forum was at the early age of nineteen—that is, in 659; and his excellence, says Cicero, was immediately acknowledged, like that of a statue by Phidias, which only requires to be seen in order to be admired[254]. The case in which he first appeared was of considerable responsibility for one so young and inexperienced, being an accusation, at the instance of the Roman province of Africa, against its governors for rapacity. It was heard before Scævola and Crassus, as judges—the one the ablest lawyer, the other the most accomplished speaker, of his age; and the young orator had the good fortune to obtain their approbation, as well as that of all who were present at the trial[255]. His next pleading of importance was in behalf of Nicomedes, King of Bithynia, in which he even surpassed his former speech for the Africans[256]. After this we hear little of him for several years. The imminent perils of the Social War, which broke out in 663, interrupted, in a great measure, the business of the Forum. Hortensius served in this alarming contest for one year as a volunteer, and in the following season as a military tribune[257]. When, on the re-establishment of peace in Italy in 666, he returned to Rome, and resumed the more peaceful avocations to which he had been destined from his youth, he found himself without a rival[258]. Crassus, as we have seen, died in 662, before the troubles of Marius and Sylla. Antony, with other orators of inferior note, perished in 666, during the temporary and last ascendancy of Marius, in the absence of Sylla. Sulpicius was put to death in the same year, and Cotta driven into banishment, from which he was not recalled until the return of Sylla to Rome, and his election to the dictatorship in 670. Hortensius was thus left for some years without a competitor; and, after 670, with none of eminence but Cotta, whom also he soon outshone. His splendid, warm, and animated manner, was preferred to the calm and easy elegance of his rival. Accordingly, when engaged in a cause on the same side, Cotta, though ten years senior, was employed to open the case, while the more important parts were left to the management of Hortensius[259]. He continued the undisputed sovereign of the Forum, till Cicero returned from his quæstorship in Sicily, in 679, when the talents of that orator first [pg 124]displayed themselves in full perfection and maturity. Hortensius was thus, from 666 till 679, a space of thirteen years, at the head of the Roman bar; and being, in consequence, engaged during that long period, on one side or other, in every cause of importance, he soon amassed a prodigious fortune. He lived, too, with a magnificence corresponding to his wealth. An example of splendour and luxury had been set to him by the orator Crassus, who inhabited a sumptuous palace in Rome, the hall of which was adorned with four pillars of Hymettian marble, twelve feet high, which he brought to Rome in his ædileship, at a time when there were no pillars of foreign marble even in public buildings[260]. The court of this mansion was ornamented by six lotus trees, which Pliny saw in full luxuriance in his youth, but which were afterwards burned in the conflagration in the time of Nero. He had also a number of vases, and two drinking-cups, engraved by the artist Mentor, but which were of such immense value that he was ashamed to use them[261]. Hortensius had the same tastes as Crassus, but surpassed him and all his contemporaries in magnificence. His mansion stood on the Palatine Hill, which appears to have been the most fashionable situation in Rome, being at that time covered with the houses of Lutatius Catulus, Æmilius Scaurus, Clodius, Catiline, Cicero, and Cæsar[262]. The residence of Hortensius was adjacent to that of Catiline; and though of no great extent, it was splendidly furnished. After the death of the orator, it was inhabited by Octavius Cæsar[263], and formed the centre of the chief imperial palace, which increased from the time of Augustus to that of Nero, till it covered a great part of the Palatine Mount, and branched over other hills. Besides his mansion in the capital, he possessed sumptuous villas at Tusculum, Bauli, and Laurentum, where he was accustomed to give the most elegant and expensive entertainments. He had frequently peacocks at his banquets, which he first served up at a grand augural feast, and which, says Varro, were more commended by the luxurious, than by men of probity and austerity[264]. His olive plantations he is said to have regularly moistened and bedewed with wine; and, on one occasion, during the hearing of an important case, in which he was engaged along with Cicero, begged that he would change with him the previously arranged order of pleading, as he was obliged to go to the country to pour wine on a favourite platanus, which grew near his Tus[pg 125]culan villa[265]. Notwithstanding this profusion, his heir found not less than 10,000 casks of wine in his cellar after his death[266]. Besides his taste for wine, and fondness for plantations, he indulged a passion for pictures and fish-ponds. At his Tusculan villa, he built a hall for the reception of a painting of the expedition of the Argonauts, by the painter Cydias, which cost the enormous sum of a hundred and forty-four thousand sesterces[267]. At his country-seat, near Bauli, on the sea shore, he vied with Lucullus and Philippus in the extent of his fish-ponds, which were constructed at immense cost, and so formed that the tide flowed into them[268]. Under the promontory of Bauli, travellers are yet shown the Piscina Mirabilis, a subterraneous edifice, vaulted and divided by four rows of arcades, and which is supposed by some antiquarians to have been a fish-pond of Hortensius. Yet such was his luxury, and his reluctance to diminish his supply, that when he gave entertainments at Bauli, he generally sent to the neighbouring town of Puteoli to buy fish for supper[269]. He had a vast number of fishermen in his service, and paid so much attention to the feeding of his fish, that he had always ready a large stock of small fish to be devoured by the great ones. It was with the utmost difficulty he could be prevailed on to part with any of them; and Varro declares, that a friend could more easily get his chariot mules out of his stable, than a mullet from his ponds. He was more anxious about the welfare of his fish than the health of his slaves, and less solicitous that a sick servant might not take what was unfit for him, than that his fish might not drink water which was unwholesome[270]. It is even said, that he was so passionately fond of a particular lamprey, that he shed tears for her untimely death[271].

The gallery at the villa, which was situated on the little promontory of Bauli, and looking towards Puteoli, commanded one of the most delightful views in Italy. The inland prospect towards Cumæ was extensive and magnificent. Puteoli was seen along the shore at the distance of 30 stadia, in the direction of Pompeii; and Pompeii itself was invisible only from its distance. The sea view was unbounded; but it was enlivened by the numerous vessels sailing across the bay, and the ever changeful hue of its waters, now saffron, azure, or purple, according as the breeze blew, or as the sun ascended or declined[272].

Hortensius possessed another villa in Italy, which rivalled in its sylvan pomp the marine luxuries of Bauli. This mansion lay between Ostia and Lavinium, (now Pratica,) near to the town of Laurentum, so well remembered from ancient fable and poetry, as having been the residence of King Latinus, at the time of the arrival of Æneas in Italy, and at present known by the name of Torre di Paterno. The town of Laurentum was on the shore, but the villa of Hortensius stood to the north-east at some distance from the coast,—the grounds subsequently occupied by the villa of the younger Pliny intervening between it and Laurentum, and also between it and the Tuscan sea. Around were the walks and gardens of patrician villas; on one side was seen the town of Laurentum, with its public baths; on the other, but at a greater distance, the harbour of Ostia. Near the house were groves, and fields covered with herds—beyond were hills clothed with woods. The horizon to the north-east was bounded by magnificent mountains, and beyond the low maritime grounds, which lay between the port of Ostia and Laurentum, there was a distant prospect of the Tuscan sea[273].

Hortensius had here a wooded park of fifty acres, encompassed with a wall. This enclosure he called a nursery of wild beasts, all which came for their provender at a certain hour, on the blowing of a horn—an exhibition with which he was accustomed to amuse the guests who visited him at his Laurentian villa. Varro mentions an entertainment, where those invited supped on an eminence, called a Triclinium, in this sylvan park. During the repast, Hortensius summoned his Orpheus, who, having come with his musical instruments, and being ordered to display his talents, blew a trumpet, when such a multitude of deer, boars, and other quadrupeds, rushed to the spot from all quarters, that the sight appeared to the delighted spectators as beautiful as the courses with wild animals in the great Circus of the Ædiles[274]!

The eloquence of Hortensius procured him not only all this wealth and luxury, but the highest official honours of the state. He was Ædile in 679, Prætor in 682, and Consul two years afterwards. The wealth and dignities he had obtained, and the want of competition, made him gradually relax from that assiduity by which they had been acquired, till the increasing fame of Cicero, and particularly the glory of his consulship, stimulated him to renew his exertions. But his habit of labour had been in some degree lost, and he never again recovered [pg 127]his former reputation. Cicero partly accounts for this decline, from the peculiar nature and genius of his eloquence[275]. It was of that showy species called Asiatic, which flourished in the Greek colonies of Asia Minor, and was infinitely more florid and ornamental than the oratory of Athens, or even Rhodes, being full of brilliant thoughts and of sparkling expressions. This glowing style of rhetoric, though deficient in solidity and weight, was not unsuitable in a young man; and being farther recommended by a beautiful cadence of periods, met with the utmost applause. But Hortensius, as he advanced in life, did not prune his exuberance, or adopt a chaster eloquence; and this luxury, and glitter of phraseology, which, even in his earliest years, had occasionally excited ridicule or disgust among the graver fathers of the senatorial order, being totally inconsistent with his advanced age and consular dignity, which required something more serious and composed, his reputation diminished with increase of years; and though the bloom of his eloquence might be in fact the same, it appeared to be somewhat withered[276]. Besides, from his declining health and strength, which greatly failed in his latter years, he may not have been able to give full effect to that showy species of rhetoric in which he indulged. A constant toothache, and swelling in the jaws, greatly impaired his power of elocution and utterance, and became at length so severe as to accelerate his end—

“Ægrescunt teneræ fauces, quum frigoris atri

Vis subiit, vel quum ventis agitabilis aër

Vertitur, atque ipsas flatus gravis inficit auras,

Vel rabidus clamor fracto quum forte sonore

Planum radit iter. Sic est Hortensius olim

Absumptus: caussis etenim confectus agendis

Obticuit, quum vox, domino vivente, periret,

Et nondum exstincti moreretur lingua diserti[277].”

A few months, however, before his death, which happened in 703, he pleaded for his nephew, Messala, who was accused of illegal canvassing, and who was acquitted, more in consequence of the astonishing exertions of his advocate, than the justice of his cause. So unfavourable, indeed, was his case esteemed, that however much the speech of Hortensius had been admired, he was received on entering the theatre of Curio on the following day, with loud clamour and hisses, which were the more remarked, as he had never met with similar [pg 128]treatment in the whole course of his forensic career[278]. The speech, however, revived all the ancient admiration of the public for his oratorical talents, and convinced them, that had he always possessed the same perseverance as Cicero, he would not have ranked second to that orator. Another of his most celebrated harangues was that against the Manilian law, which vested Pompey with such extraordinary powers, and was so warmly supported by Cicero. That against the sumptuary law proposed by Crassus and Pompey, in the year 683, which tended to restrain the indulgence of his own taste, was well adapted to Hortensius’ style of eloquence; and his speech was highly characteristic of his disposition and habits of life. He declaimed, at great length, on the glory of Rome, which required splendour in the mode of living followed by its citizens[279]. He frequently glanced at the luxury of the Consuls themselves, and forced them at length, by his eloquence and sarcastic declamation, to relinquish their scheme of domestic retrenchment.

The speeches of Hortensius, it has been already mentioned, lost part of their effect by the orator’s advance in years, but they suffered still more by being transferred to paper. As his chief excellence consisted in action and delivery, his writings were much inferior to what was expected from the high fame he had enjoyed; and, accordingly, after death, he retained little of that esteem, which he had so abundantly possessed during his life[280]. Although, therefore, his orations had been preserved, they would have given us but an imperfect idea of the eloquence of Hortensius; but even this aid has been denied us, and we must, therefore, now chiefly trust for his oratorical character to the opinion of his great but unprejudiced rival. The friendship and honourable competition of Hortensius and Cicero, present an agreeable contrast to the animosities of Æschines and Demosthenes, the two great orators of Greece. It was by means of Hortensius that Cicero was chosen one of the college of Augurs—a service of which his gratified vanity ever appears to have retained an agreeable recollection. In a few of his letters, indeed, written during the despondency of his exile, he hints a suspicion that Hortensius had been instrumental in his banishment, with a view of engrossing to himself the whole glory of the bar[281]; but this mistrust ended with his recall, which Hortensius, though originally he had advised him to yield to the storm, urged on with all the influence of which he was possessed. Hortensius also appears to have been free from every feeling of jealousy or envy, which in him was still [pg 129]more creditable, as his rival was younger than himself, and yet ultimately forced him from the supremacy. Such having been their sentiments of mutual esteem, Cicero has done his oratoric talents ample justice—representing him as endued with almost all the qualities necessary to form a distinguished speaker. His imagination was fertile—his voice was sweet and harmonious—his demeanour dignified—his language rich and elegant—his acquaintance with literature extensive. So prodigious was his memory, that, without the aid of writing, he recollected every word he had meditated, and every sentence of his adversary’s oration, even to the titles and documents brought forward to support the case against him—a faculty which greatly aided his peculiarly happy art of recapitulating the substance of what had been said by his antagonists or by himself[282]. He also originally possessed an indefatigable application; and scarcely a day passed in which he did not speak in the Forum, or exercise himself in forensic studies or preparation. But, of all the various arts of oratory, he most remarkably excelled in a happy and perspicuous arrangement of his subject. Cicero only reproaches him, and that but slightly, with showing more study and art in his gestures than was suitable for an orator. It appears, however, from Macrobius, that he was much ridiculed by his contemporaries, on account of his affected gestures. In pleading, his hands were constantly in motion, whence he was often attacked by his adversaries in the Forum for resembling an actor; and, on one occasion, he received from his opponent the appellation of Dionysia, which was the name of a celebrated dancing girl[283]. Æsop and Roscius frequently attended his pleadings, to catch his gestures, and imitate them on the stage[284]. Such, indeed, was his exertion in action, that it was commonly said that it could not be determined whether people went to hear or to see him[285]. Like Demosthenes, he chose and put on his dress with the most studied care and neatness. He is said, not only to have prepared his attitudes, but also to have adjusted the plaits of his gown before a mirror, when about to issue forth to the Forum; and to have taken no less care in arranging them, than in moulding the periods of his discourse. He so tucked up his gown, that the folds did not fall by chance, but were form[pg 130]ed with great care, by means of a knot artfully tied, and concealed in the plies of his robe, which apparently flowed carelessly around him[286]. Macrobius also records a story of his instituting an action of damages against a person who had jostled him, while walking in this elaborate dress, and had ruffled his toga, when he was about to appear in public with his drapery adjusted according to the happiest arrangement[287]—an anecdote, which, whether true or false, shows, by its currency, the opinion entertained of his finical attention to everything that concerned the elegance of his attire, or the gracefulness of his figure and attitudes. He also bathed himself in odoriferous waters, and daily perfumed himself with the most precious essences[288]. This too minute attention to his person, and to gesticulation, appears to have been the sole blemish in his oratorical character; and the only stain on his moral conduct, was his practice of corrupting the judges of the causes in which he was employed—a practice which must be, in a great measure, imputed to the defects of the judicial system at Rome; for, whatever might be the excellence of the Roman laws, nothing could be worse than the procedure under which they were administered[289].

Hortensius has received more justice from Cicero than another orator, Licinius Calvus, who, for a few years, was also considered as his rival in eloquence. Calvus has already been mentioned as an elegant poet; but Seneca calls his competition with Cicero in oratory, iniquissimam litem. His style of speaking was directly the reverse of that of Hortensius: he affected the Attic taste in eloquence, such as it appeared in what he conceived to be its purest form—the orations of Lysias. Hence that correct and slender delicacy at which he so studiously aimed, and which he conducted with great skill and elegance; but, from being too much afraid of the faults of redundance and unsuitable ornament, he refined and attenuated his discourse till it lost its raciness and spirit. He compensated, however, for his sterility of language, and diminutive figure, by his force of elocution, and vivacity of action. “I have met with persons,” says Quintilian, “who preferred Calvus to all our orators; and others who were of opinion, that the too great rigour which he exercised on himself, in point of precision, had debilitated his oratorical talents. Nevertheless, his speeches, though chaste, grave, and correct, are frequently also vehement. His taste of writing was Attic; and his untimely death was an injury to his reputation, if he designed to add to his compositions, and not to retrench them.” His most celebrated oration, which was against the unpopular Vatinius, was delivered at the age of twenty. The person whom he accused, overpowered and alarmed, interrupted him, by exclaiming to the judges, “Must I be condemned because he is eloquent?” The applause he obtained in this case may be judged of from what is mentioned by Catullus, of some one in the crowd clapping his hands in the middle of his speech, and exclaiming, “O what an eloquent little darling[290]!” Calvus survived only ten years after this period, [pg 132]having died at the early age of thirty. He left behind him twenty-one books of orations, which are said to have been much studied by the younger Pliny, and were the models he first imitated[291].

Calvus, though a much younger man than Cicero, died many years before him, and previous to the composition of the dialogue Brutus. Most of the other contemporaries, whom Cicero records in that treatise on celebrated orators, were dead also. Among an infinite variety of others, he particularly mentions Marcus Crassus, the wealthy triumvir, who perished in the ill-fated expedition against the Parthians; and who, though possessed but of moderate learning and capacity, was accounted, in consequence of his industry and popular arts, among the chief forensic patrons. His language was pure, and his subject well arranged; but in his harangues there were none of the lights and flowers of eloquence,—all things were expressed in the same manner, and the same tone.

Towards the conclusion of the dialogue, Cicero mentions so many of his predeceased contemporaries, that Atticus remarks, that he is drawing up the dregs of oratory. Calidius, indeed, seems the only other speaker who merits distinguished notice. He is characterized as different from all other orators,—such was the soft and polished language in which he arrayed his exquisitely delicate sentiments. Nothing could be more easy, pliable, and ductile, than the turn of his periods; his words flowed like a pure and limpid stream, without anything hard or muddy to impede or pollute their course; his action was genteel, his mode of address sober and calm, his arrangement the perfection of art. “The three great objects of an orator,” says Cicero, while discussing the merits of Calidius, “are to instruct, delight, and move. Two of these he admirably accomplished. He rendered the most abstruse subject clear by illustration, and enchained the minds of his hearers with delight. But the third praise of moving and exciting the soul must be denied him; he had no force, pathos, or animation[292].” Such, indeed, was his want of emotion, where it was most appropriate, and most to be expected, that, while pleading his own cause against Q. Gallius for an attempt to poison him, though he stated his case with elegance and perspicuity, yet it was so smoothly and listlessly detailed, that Cicero, who spoke for the person accused, argued, that the charge must be false and an invention of his own, as no one could talk so calmly, and with such indifference, of a recent attempt which threatened his own existence[293].

These were the most renowned orators who preceded the age of Cicero, or were contemporaries with him; and before proceeding to consider the oratorical merits of him by whom they have been all eclipsed, at least in the eye of posterity, it may be proper, for a single moment, to remind the reader of the state of the Roman law,—of the judicial procedure, and of the ordinary practice of the Forum, at the time when he commenced and pursued his brilliant career of eloquence.

The laws of the first six kings of Rome, called the Leges Regiæ, chiefly related to sacred subjects,—regulations of police,—divisions of the different orders in the state,—and privileges of the people. Tarquinius Superbus having laid a plan for the establishment of despotism at Rome, attempted to abolish every law of his predecessors which imposed control on the royal prerogative. About the time of his expulsion[294], the Senate and people, believing that the disregard of the laws was occasioned by their never having been reduced in writing, determined to have them assembled and recorded in one volume; and this task was intrusted by them to Sextus Papyrius, a patrician. Papyrius accordingly collected, with great assiduity, all the laws of the monarchs who had governed Rome previously to the time of Tarquin. This collection, which is sometimes called the Leges Regiæ, and sometimes the Papyrian Code, did not obtain that confirmation and permanence which might have been expected. Many of the Leges Regiæ were the result of momentary emergencies, and inapplicable to future circumstances. Being the ordinances, too, of a detested race, and being in some respects but ill adapted to the genius and temper of a republican government, a great number of them soon fell into desuetude[295]. The new laws promulgated immediately after the expulsion of the kings, related more to those constitutional modifications which were rendered necessary by so important a revolution, than to the civil rights of the citizen. In consequence of the dissensions of the patricians and plebeians, every Senatusconsultum proceeding from the deliberations of the Senate was negatived by the veto of the Tribunes, while the Senate, in return, disowned the authority of the Plebiscita, and denied the right of the Tribunes to propose laws. There was thus a sort of legal interregnum at Rome; at least, there were no fixed rules to which all classes were equally subjected: and the great body [pg 134]of the people were too often the victims of the pride of the patricians and tyranny of the consular government. In this situation, C. Terentius Arsa brought forward the law known by the name of Terentilla, of which the object was the election by the people of ten persons, who should compose and arrange a body of laws for the administration of public affairs, as well as decision of the civil rights of individuals according to established rules. The Senate, who maintained that the dispensation of justice was solely vested in the supreme magistrates, contrived, for five years, to postpone execution of this salutary measure; but it was at length agreed, that, as a preparatory step, and before the creation of the Decemvirs, who were to form this code, three deputies should be sent to Greece, and the Greek towns of Italy, to select such enactments as they might consider best adapted to the manners and customs of the Roman people.

The delegates, who departed on this embassy towards the close of the year 300, were occupied two years in their important mission. From what cities of Greece, or Magna Græcia, they chiefly borrowed their laws, has been a topic of much discussion, and seems to be still involved in much uncertainty[296]; though Athens is most usually considered as having been the great fountain of their legislation.

On the return of the deputies to Rome, the office of Consul was suppressed, and ten magistrates, called Decemvirs, among whom these deputies were included, were immediately created. To them was confided the care of digesting the prodigious mass of laws which had been brought from Greece. This task they accomplished with the aid of Hermodorus, an exile of Ephesus, who then happened to be at Rome, and acted as their interpreter. But although the importation from Greece formed the chief part of the twelve tables, it cannot be supposed that the ancient laws of Rome were entirely superseded. Some of the Leges Regiæ, which had no reference to monarchical government, as the laws of Romulus, concerning the Patria potestas, those concerning parricides, the removal of landmarks, and insolvent debtors, had, by tacit consent, passed into consuetudinary law; and all those which were still in observance were incorporated in the Decemviral Code; in the same manner as the institutions of the heroic ages of Greece formed a part of the laws of Solon and Lycurgus.

Before a year had elapsed from the date of their creation, the Decemvirs had prepared ten books of laws; which, being [pg 135]engraved on wooden or ivory tables, were presented to the people, and received the sanction of the Senate, and ratification of the Comitia Centuriata. Two supplementary tables were soon afterwards added, in consequence of some omissions which were observed and pointed out to the Decemvirs. In all these tables the laws were briefly expressed. The first eight related to matters of private right, the ninth to those of public, and the tenth to those of religious concern. These ten tables established very equitable rules for all different ranks, without distinction; but in the two supplemental tables some invidious distinctions were introduced, and many exclusive privileges conferred on the patricians.

On the whole, the Decemvirs appear to have been very well versed in the science of legislation. Those who, like Cicero[297] and Tacitus, possessed the Twelve Tables complete, and who were the most competent judges of how far they were adapted to the circumstances and manners of the people, have highly commended the wisdom of these laws. Modern detractors have chiefly objected to the sanguinary punishments they inflicted, the principles of the law of retaliation which they recognized, and the barbarous privileges permitted to creditors on the persons of their debtors. The severer enactments, however, of the Twelve Tables, were evidently never put in force, or so soon became obsolete, that the Roman laws were at length esteemed remarkable for the mildness of their punishments—the penalties of scourging, or death, being scarcely in any case inflicted on a Roman citizen.

The tables on which the Decemviral Code had been inscribed, were destroyed by the Gauls at the sack of the city; but such pains were taken in recovering copies, or making them out from recollection, that the laws themselves were almost completely re-established.

It might reasonably have been expected that a system of jurisprudence, carefully extracted from the whole legislative wisdom of Italy and Greece, should have restored in the commonwealth that good order and security which had been overthrown by the uncertainty of the laws, and the disputes of the patricians and plebeians. But the event did not justify the well-founded expectation. The ambition and lawless passions of the chief Decemvir had rendered it necessary for him and his colleagues to abdicate their authority before they had settled with sufficient precision how their enactments were to be put in practice or enforced. It thus became essential to introduce certain formulæ, called Legis Actiones, in order [pg 136]that the mode of procedure might not remain arbitrary and uncertain. These, consisting chiefly of certain symbolical gestures, adapted to a legal claim or defence, were prepared by Claudius Cœcus about the middle of the fifth century of Rome, but were intended to be kept private among the pontiffs and patrician Jurisconsults, that the people might not have the benefit of the law without their assistance. Cl. Flavius, however, a secretary of Claudius, having access to these formularies, transcribed and communicated them to the people about the middle of the fifth century of Rome. From this circumstance they were called the Jus civile Flavianum. This discovery was so disagreeable to the patricians, that they devised new legal forms, which they kept secret with still more care than the others. But in 553, Sextus Ælius Catus divulged them again, and in consequence, these last prescripts obtained the name of Jus Ælium, which may be regarded as the last part and completion of the Decemviral laws; and it continued to be employed as the form of process during the whole remaining period of the existence of the commonwealth.

As long as the republic survived, the Twelve Tables formed the foundation of the Roman law, though they were interpreted and enlarged by such new enactments as the circumstances of the state demanded[298]. Thus the Lex Aquilia and Alinia were mere modifications of different heads of the twelve tables. Most of the new laws were introduced in consequence of the increase of empire and luxury, and the conflicting interests of the various orders in the state. Laws, properly so called, were proposed by a superior magistrate, as the Consul, Dictator, or Prætor, with consent of the Senate; they were passed by the whole body of the people, patricians and plebeians, assembled in the Comitia Centuriata, and bore ever after the name of the proposer.

The Plebiscita were enacted by the plebeians in the Comitia Tributa, apart from the patricians, and independently of the sanction of the Senate, at the rogation of their own Tribunes, instead of one of the superior magistrates. The patricians generally resisted these decrees, as they were chiefly directed against the authority of the Senate, and the privileges of the higher orders of the state. But, by the Lex Horatia, the same weight and authority were given to them as to laws properly so termed, and thenceforth they differed only in name, and the manner in which they were enacted.

A Senatusconsultum was an ordinance of the Senate on those points concerning which it possessed exclusive authority; but rather referred to matters of state, as the distribution of provinces, the application of public money, and the like, than to the ordinary administration of justice.

The patricians, being deprived by the Twelve Tables of the privilege of arbitrarily pronouncing decisions, as best suited their interests; and being frustrated in their miserable attempts to maintain an undue advantage in matters of form, by secreting the rules of procedure held in courts of justice, they had now reserved to them only the power of interpreting to others the scope and spirit of the laws. Till the age, at least, of Augustus, the civil law was completely unconnected and dissipated; and no systematic, accessible, or authoritative treatise on the subject, appeared during the existence of the republic[299]. The laws of the Twelve Tables were extremely concise and elliptical; and it seems highly probable that they were written in this style, not for the sake of perspicuity, but to leave all that required to be supplied or interpreted in the power of the Patricians[300]. The changes, too, in the customs and language of the Romans, rendered the style of the Twelve Tables less familiar to each succeeding generation; and the ambiguous passages were but imperfectly explained by the study of legal antiquarians. It was the custom, likewise, for each successive Prætor to publish an edict, announcing the manner in which justice was to be distributed by him—the rules which he proposed to follow in the decision of doubtful cases; and the degree of relief which his equity would afford from the precise rigour of ancient statutes. This annual alteration in forms, and sometimes even in the principles of law, introduced a confusion, which persons engrossed with other occupations could not unravel. The obscurity of old laws, and fluctuating jurisdiction of the Prætors, gave rise to that class of men called Jurisconsults, whose business it was to explain legal difficulties, and reconcile statutory contradictions. It was the relation of patron and client, which was coeval almost with the city itself, and was invested with a sacred, inviolable character, that gave weight to the dicta of those who, in some measure, came in place of the ancient patrons, and usually belonged to the patrician order.—“On the public days of market or assembly,” says Gibbon, “the masters of the art were seen walking in the Forum, ready to impart the needful advice to the meanest of their fellow-citizens, from [pg 138]whose votes, on a future occasion, they might solicit a grateful return. As their years and honours increased, they seated themselves at home on a chair or throne, to expect with patient gravity the visits of their clients, who, at the dawn of day, from the town and country, began to thunder at their door. The duties of social life, and incidents of judicial proceedings, were the ordinary subject of these consultations; and the verbal or written opinions of the jurisconsults were framed according to the rules of prudence and law. The youths of their own order and family were permitted to listen; their children enjoyed the benefit of more private lessons; and the Mucian race was long renowned for the hereditary knowledge of the civil law[301].” Though the judges and prætors were not absolutely obliged, till the time of the emperors, to follow the recorded opinions of the Jurisconsults, they possessed during the existence of the republic a preponderating weight and authority. The province of legislation was thus gradually invaded by these expounders of ancient statutes, till at length their recorded opinions, the Responsa Prudentum, became so numerous, and of such authority, that they formed the greatest part of the system of Roman jurisprudence, whence they were styled by Cicero, in his oration for Cæcina, Jus Civile.

It is perfectly evident, however, that the civil law was neither much studied nor known by the orators of the Senate, and Forum. Cicero, in his treatise De Oratore, informs us, that Ser. Galba, the first speaker of his day, was ignorant of law, inexperienced in civil rights, and uncertain as to the institutions of his ancestors. In his Brutus he says nearly the same thing of Antony and Sulpicius, who were the two greatest orators of their age, and who, he declares, knew nothing of public, private, or civil law. Antony in particular, always expressed a contempt for the study of the civil law[302]. Accordingly, in the dialogue De Oratore, he is made to say, “I never studied the civil law, nor have I been sensible of any loss from my ignorance of it in those causes which I was capable of managing in our courts[303].” In the same dialogue, Scævola says, “The present age is totally ignorant of the laws of the Twelve Tables, except you, Crassus, who, led by curiosity, rather than from its being any province annexed to eloquence, studied civil law under me.” In his oration for Muræna, Cicero talks lightly of the study of the civil law, and treats his opponent with scorn on account of his knowledge of its words of [pg 139]style and forms of procedure[304]. With exception, then, of Crassus, and of Scævola, who was rather a jurisconsult than a speaker, the orators of the age of Cicero, as well as those who preceded it, were uninstructed in law, and considered it as no part of their duty to render themselves masters, either of the general principles of jurisprudence, or the municipal institutions of the state. Crassus, indeed, expresses his opinion, that it is impossible for an orator to do justice to his client without some knowledge of law, particularly in questions tried before the Centumviri, who had cognizance of points with regard to egress and regress in property, the interests of minors, and alterations in the course of rivers; and he mentions several cases, some of a criminal nature, which had lately occurred at Rome, where the question hinged entirely on the civil law, and required constant reference to precedents and authorities. Antony, however, explains how all this may be managed. A speaker, for example, ignorant of the mode of drawing up an agreement, and unacquainted with the forms of a contract, might defend the rights of a woman who has been contracted in marriage, because there were persons who brought everything to the orator or patron, ready prepared,—presenting him with a brief, or memorial, not only on matters of fact, but on the decrees of the Senate, the precedents and the opinions of the jurisconsults. It also appears that there were solicitors, or professors of civil law, whom the orators consulted on any point concerning which they wished to be instructed, and the knowledge of which might be necessary previous to their appearance in the Forum. In this situation, the harangue of the orator was more frequently an appeal to the equity, common sense, or feelings of the judge, than to the laws of his country. Now, where a pleader addresses himself to the equity of his judges, he has much more occasion, and also much more scope, to display his eloquence, than where he must draw his arguments from strict law, statutes, and precedents. In the former case, many circumstances must be taken into account; many [pg 140]personal considerations regarded; and even favour and inclination, which it belongs to the orator to conciliate, by his art and eloquence, may be disguised under the appearance of equity. Accordingly, Cicero, while speaking in his own person, only says, that the science of law and civil rights should not be neglected; but he does not seem to consider it as essential to the orator of the Forum, while he enlarges on the necessity of elegance of language, the erudition of the scholar, a ready and popular wit, and a power of moving the passions[305].

That these were the arts to which the Roman orators chiefly trusted for success in the causes of their clients, is apparent from the remains of their discourses, and from what is said of the mode of pleading in the rhetorical treatises of Cicero. “Pontius,” says Antony, in the dialogue so often quoted, “had a son, who served in the war with the Cimbri, and whom he had destined to be his heir; but his father, believing a false report which was spread of his death, made a will in favour of another child. The soldier returned after the decease of his parent; and, had you been employed to defend his cause, you would not have discussed the legal doctrine as to the priority or validity of testaments; you would have raised his father from the grave, made him embrace his child, and recommend him, with many tears, to the protection of the Centumviri.”

Antony, speaking of one of his own most celebrated orations, says, that his whole address consisted, 1st, in moving the passions; 2d, in recommending himself; and that it was thus, and not by convincing the understanding of the judges, that he baffled the impeachment against his clients[306]. Valerius Maximus has supplied, in his eighth book, many examples of unexpected and unmerited acquittals, as well as condemnations, from bursts of compassion and theatrical incidents. The wonderful influence, too, of a ready and popular wit in the management of causes, is apparent from the instances given in the second book De Oratore of the effects it had produced in the Forum. The jests which are there recorded, though not very excellent, may be regarded as the finest flowers of wit of the Roman bar. Sometimes they were directed against the opposite party, his patron, or witnesses; and, if sufficiently impudent, seldom failed of effect.

That the principles and precepts of the civil law were so little studied by the Roman orators, and hardly ever alluded to in their harangues, while, on the other hand, the arts of persuasion, and wit, and excitement of the passions, were all-pow[pg 141]erful, and were the great engines of legal discussion, must be attributed to the constitution of the courts of law, and the nature of the judicial procedure, which, though very imperfect for the administration of justice, were well adapted to promote and exercise the highest powers of eloquence. It was the forms of procedure—the description of the courts before which questions were tried—and the nature of these questions themselves[307]—that gave to Roman oratory such dazzling splendour, and surrounded it with a glory, which can never shine on the efforts of rhetoric in a better-regulated community, and under a more sober dispensation of justice.

The great exhibitions of eloquence were, 1st, In the civil and criminal causes tried before the Prætor, or judges appointed under his eye. 2d, The discussions on laws proposed in the assemblies of the people. 3d, The deliberations of the Senate.

The Prætor sat in the Forum, the name given to the great square situated between Mount Palatine and the Capitol, and there administered justice. Sometimes he heard causes in the Basilicæ, or halls which were built around the Forum; but at other times the court of the Prætor was held in the area of the Forum, on which a tribunal was hastily erected, and a certain space for the patron, client, and witnesses, was railed off, and protected from the encroachment of surrounding spectators. This space was slightly covered above for the occasion with canvass, but being exposed to the air on all sides, the court was an open one, in the strictest sense of the term[308].

From the time of the first Punic war there were two Prætors, to whom the cognizance of civil suits was committed,—the Prætor urbanus and Prætor peregrinus. The former tried the causes of citizens according to the Roman laws; the latter judged the cases of allies and strangers by the principles of natural equity; but as judicial business multiplied, the number of Prætors was increased to six. The Prætor was the chief judge in all questions that did not fall under the immediate cognizance of the assemblies of the people or the Senate. Every action, therefore, came, in the first instance, before the Prætor; but he decided only in civil suits of importance: and if the cause was not of sufficient magnitude for the immediate investigation of his tribunal, or hinged entirely on matters of fact, he appointed one or more persons to judge of it. These [pg 142]were chosen from a list of judices selecti, which was made up from the three orders of senators, knights, and people. If but one person was appointed, he was properly called a judex, or arbiter. The judex determined only such cases as were easy, or of small importance; and he was bound to proceed according to an express law, or a certain form prescribed to him by the Prætor. The arbiter decided in questions of equity which were not sufficiently defined by law, and his powers were not so restricted by the Prætor as those of the ordinary judex. When more persons than one were nominated by the Prætor, they were termed Recuperatores, and they settled points of law or equity requiring much deliberation. Certain cases, particularly those relating to testaments or successions, were usually remitted by the Prætor to the Centumviri, who were 105 persons, chosen equally from the thirty-five tribes. The Prætor, before sending a case to any of those, whom I may call by the general name of judges, though, in fact, they more nearly resembled our jury, made up a formula, as it was called, or issue on which they were to decide; as, for example, “If it be proved that the field is in possession of Servilius, give sentence against Catulus, unless he produce a testament, from which it shall appear to belong to him.”

It was in presence of these judges that the patrons and orators, surrounded by a crowd of friends and retainers, pleaded the causes of their clients. They commenced with a brief exposition of the nature of the points in dispute. Witnesses were afterwards examined, and the arguments on the case were enforced in a formal harangue. A decision was then given, according to the opinion of a majority of the judges. The Centumviri continued to act as judges for a whole year; but the other judices only sat till the particular cause was determined for which they had been appointed. They remained, however, on the numerous list of the judices selecti, and were liable to be again summoned till the end of the year, when a new set was chosen for the judicial business of the ensuing season. The Prætor had the power of reversing the decisions of the judges, if it appeared that any fraud or gross error had been committed. If neither was alleged, he charged himself with the duty of seeing the sentence which the judges had pronounced carried into execution. Along with his judicial and ministerial functions, the Prætor possessed a sort of legislative power, by which he supplied the deficiency of laws that were found inadequate for many civil emergencies. Accordingly, each new Prætor, as we have already seen, when he entered on his office, issued an edict, announcing the supplementary code which he intended to follow. Every Prætor had a to[pg 143]tally different edict; and, what was worse, none thought of adhering to the rules which he had himself traced; till at length, in the year 686, the Cornelian law, which met with much opposition, prohibited the Prætor from departing in practice from those principles, or regulations, he had laid down in his edict.

Capital trials, that is, all those which regarded the life or liberty of a Roman citizen, had been held in the Comitia Centuriata, after the institution of these assemblies by Servius Tullius; but the authority of the people had been occasionally delegated to Inquisitors, (Quæsitores,) in points previously fixed by law. For some time, all criminal matters of consequence were determined in this manner: But from the multiplicity of trials, which increased with the extent and vices of the republic, other means of despatching them were necessarily resorted to. The Prætors, originally, judged only in civil suits; but in the time of Cicero, and indeed from the beginning of the seventh century, four of the six Prætors were nominated to preside at criminal trials—one taking cognizance of questions of extortion—a second of peculation—a third of illegal canvass—and the last, of offences against the state, as the Crimen majestatis, or treason. To these, Sylla, in the middle of the seventh century, added four more, who inquired into acts of public or private violence. In trials of importance, the Prætor was assisted by the counsel of select judges or jurymen, who originally were all chosen from the Senate, and afterwards from the order of Knights; but in Cicero’s time, in consequence of a law of Cotta, they were taken from the Senators, Knights, and Tribunes of the treasury. The number of these assessors, who were appointed for the year, and nominated by the Prætor, varied from 300 to 600; and from them a smaller number was chosen by lot for each individual case. Any Roman citizen might accuse another before the Prætor; and not unfrequently the young patricians undertook the prosecution of an obnoxious magistrate, merely to recommend themselves to the notice or favour of their countrymen. In such cases there was often a competition between two persons for obtaining the management of the impeachment, and the preference was determined by a previous trial, called Divinatio. This preliminary point being settled, and the day of the principal trial fixed, the accuser, in his first speech, explained the nature of the case,—fortifying his statements as he proceeded by proofs, which consisted in the voluntary testimony of free citizens, the declarations of slaves elicited by torture, and written documents. Cicero made little account of the evidence of slaves; but the art of extracting truth from a free [pg 144]witness—of exalting or depreciating his character—and of placing his deposition in a favourable light, was considered among the most important qualifications of an orator. When the evidence was concluded, the prosecutor enforced the proofs by a set speech, after which the accused entered on his defence.

But though the cognizance of crimes was in ordinary cases delegated to the Prætors, still the Comitia reserved the power of judging; and they actually did judge in causes, in which the people, or tribunes, who dictated to them, took an interest, and these were chiefly impeachments of public magistrates, for bribery or peculation. It was not understood, in any case, whether tried before the whole people or the Prætor, that either party was to be very scrupulous in the observance of truth. The judges, too, were sometimes overawed by an array of troops, and by menaces. Canvassing for acquittal and condemnation, were alike avowed, and bribery, at least for the former purpose, was currently resorted to. Thus the very crimes of the wretch who had plundered the province intrusted to his care, afforded him the most obvious means of absolution; and, to the wealthy peculator, nothing could be more easy than an escape from justice, except the opportunity of accusing the innocent and unprotected. “Foreign nations,” says Cicero, “will soon solicit the repeal of the law, which prohibits the extortions of provincial magistrates; for they will argue, that were all prosecutions on this law abolished, their governors would take no more than what satisfied their own rapacity, whereas now they exact over and above this, as much as will be sufficient to gratify their patrons, the Prætor and the judges; and that though they can furnish enough to glut the avarice of one man, they are utterly unable to pay for his impunity in guilt[309].”

The organization of the judicial tribunals was wretched, and their practice scandalous. The Senate, Prætors, and Comitia, all partook of the legislative and judicial power, and had a sort of reciprocal right of opposition and reversal, which they exercised to gratify their avarice or prejudices, and not with any view to the ends of justice. But however injurious this system might be to those who had claims to urge, or rights to defend, it afforded the most ample field for the excursions of eloquence. The Prætors, though the supreme judges, were not men bred to the law—advanced in years—familiarized with precedents—secure of independence—and fixed in their stations for life. They were young men of lit[pg 145]tle experience, who held the office for a season, and proceeded through it, to what were considered as the most important situations of the republic. Though their procedure was strict in some trivial points of preliminary form, devised by the ancient Jurisconsults, they enjoyed, in more essential matters, a perilous latitude. On the dangerous pretext of equity, they eluded the law by various subtilties or fictions; and thus, without being endued with legislative authority, they abrogated ancient enactments according to caprice. It was worse when, in civil cases, the powers of the Prætor were intrusted to the judges; or when, in criminal trials, the jurisdiction was assumed by the whole people. The inexperience, ignorance, and popular prejudices of those who were to decide them, rendered litigations extremely uncertain, and dependent, not on any fixed law or principle, but on the opinions or passions of tumultuary judges, which were to be influenced and moved by the arts of oratory. This furnished ample scope for displaying all that interesting and various eloquence, with which the pleadings of the ancient orators abounded. The means to be employed for success, were conciliating favour, rousing attention, removing or fomenting prejudice, but, above all, exciting compassion. Hence we find, that in the defence of a criminal, while a law or precedent was seldom mentioned, every thing was introduced which could serve to gain the favour of the judges, or move their pity. The accused, as soon as the day of trial was fixed, assumed an apparently neglected garb; and although allowed, whatever was the crime, to go at large till sentence was pronounced, he usually attended in court surrounded by his friends, and sometimes accompanied by his children, in order to give a more piteous effect to the lamentations and exclamations of his counsel, when he came to that part of the oration, in which the fallen and helpless state of his client was to be suitably bewailed. Piso, justly accused of oppression towards the allies, having prostrated himself on the earth in order to kiss the feet of his judges, and having risen with his face defiled with mud, obtained an immediate acquittal. Even where the cause was good, it was necessary to address the passions, and to rely on the judge’s feelings of compassion, rather than on his perceptions of right. Rutilius prohibited all exclamations and entreaties to be used in his defence: He even forbade the accustomed and expected excitement of invocations, and stamping with the feet; and “he was condemned,” says Cicero, “though the most virtuous of the Romans, because his counsel was compelled to plead for him as he would have done in the republic of Plato.” It thus ap[pg 146]pears, that it was dangerous to trust to innocence alone, and the judges were the capricious arbiters of the fate of their fellow-citizens, and not (as their situation so urgently required) the inflexible interpreters of the laws of their exalted country.

But if the manner of treating causes was favourable to the exertions of eloquence, much also must be allowed for the nature of the questions themselves, especially those of a criminal description, tried before the Prætor or people. One can scarcely figure more glorious opportunities for the display of oratory, than were afforded by those complaints of the oppressed and plundered provinces against their rapacious governors. From the extensive ramifications of the Roman power, there continually arose numerous cases of a description that can rarely occur in other countries, and which are unexampled in the history of Britain, except in a memorable impeachment, which not merely displayed, but created such eloquence as can be called forth only by splendid topics, without which rhetorical indignation would seem extravagant, and attempted pathos ridiculous.

The spot, too, on which the courts of justice assembled, was calculated to inspire and heighten eloquence. The Roman Forum presented one of the most splendid spectacles that eye could behold, or fancy conceive. This space formed an oblong square between the Palatine and Capitoline hills, composed of a vast assemblage of sumptuous though irregular edifices. On the side next the Palatine hill stood the ancient Senate-house, and Comitium, and Temple of Romulus the Founder. On the opposite quarter, it was bounded by the Capitol, with its ascending range of porticos, and the temple of the tutelar deity on the summit. The other sides of the square were adorned with basilicæ, and piazzas terminated by triumphal arches; and were bordered with statues, erected to the memory of the ancient heroes or preservers of their country[310]. Having been long the theatre of the factions, the politics, the intrigues, the crimes, and the revolutions of the capital, every spot of its surface was consecrated to the recollection of some great incident in the domestic history of the Romans; while their triumphs over foreign enemies were vividly called to remembrance by the Rostrum itself, which stood in the centre of the vacant area, and by other trophies gained from vanquished nations:—

“Et cristæ capitum, et portarum ingentia claustra,

Spiculaque, clipeique, ereptaque rostra carinis[311].”

A vast variety of shops, stored with a profusion of the most costly merchandize, likewise surrounded this heart and centre of the world, so that it was the mart for all important commercial transactions. Being thus the emporium of law, politics, and trade, it became the resort of men of business, as well as of those loiterers whom Horace calls Forenses. Each Roman citizen, regarding himself as a member of the same vast and illustrious family, scrutinized with jealous watchfulness the conduct of his rulers, and looked with anxious solicitude to the issue of every important cause. In all trials of oppression or extortion, the Roman multitude took a particular interest,—repairing in such numbers to the Forum, that even its spacious square was hardly sufficient to contain those who were attracted to it by curiosity; and who, in the course of the trial, were in the habit of expressing their feelings by shouts and acclamations, so that the orator was ever surrounded by a crowded and tumultuary audience. This numerous assembly, too, while it inspired the orator with confidence and animation, after he had commenced his harangue, created in prospect that anxiety which led to the most careful preparation previous to his appearance in public. The apprehension and even trepidation felt by the greatest speakers at Rome on the approach of the day fixed for the hearing of momentous causes, is evident from many passages of the rhetorical works of Cicero. The Roman orator thus addressed his judges with all the advantages derived both from the earnest study of the closet, and the exhilaration imparted to him by unrestrained and promiscuous applause.

2. Next to the courts of justice, the great theatre for the display of eloquence, was the Comitia, or assemblies of the people, met to deliberate on the proposal of passing a new law, or abrogating an old one. A law was seldom offered for consideration but some orator was found to dissuade its adoption; and as in the courts of justice the passions of the judges were addressed, so the favourers or opposers of a law did not confine themselves to the expediency of the measure, but availed themselves of the prejudices of the people, alternately confirming their errors, indulging their caprices, gratifying their predilections, exciting their jealousies, and fomenting their dislikes. Here, more than anywhere, the many were to be courted by the few—here, more than anywhere, was created that excitement which is most favourable to the influence of eloquence, and forms indeed the element in which alone it breathes with freedom.

3. Finally, the deliberations of the Senate, which was the great council of the state, afforded, at least to its members, [pg 148]the noblest opportunities for the exertions of eloquence. This august and numerous body consisted of individuals who had reached a certain age, and who were possessed of a certain extent of property, who were supposed to be of unblemished reputation, and most of whom had passed through the annual magistracies of the state. They were consulted upon almost everything that regarded the administration or safety of the commonwealth. The power of making war and peace, though it ultimately lay with the people assembled in the Comitia Centuriata, was generally left by them entirely to the Senate, who passed a decree of peace or war previous to the suffrages of the Comitia. The Senate, too, had always reserved to itself the supreme direction and superintendance of the religion of the country, and the distribution of the public revenue—the levying or disbanding troops, and fixing the service on which they should be employed—the nomination of governors for the provinces—the rewards assigned to successful generals for their victories, and the guardianship of the state in times of civil dissension. These were the great subjects of debate in the Senate, and they were discussed on certain fixed days of the year, when its members assembled of course, or when they were summoned together for any emergency. They invariably met in a temple, or other consecrated place, in order to give solemnity to their proceedings, as being conducted under the immediate eye of Heaven. The Consul, who presided, opened the business of the day, by a brief exposition of the question which was to be considered by the assembly. He then asked the opinions of the members in the order of rank and seniority. Freedom of debate was exercised in its greatest latitude; for, though no senator was permitted to deliver his sentiments till it came to his turn, he had then a right to speak as long as he thought proper, without being in the smallest degree confined to the point in question. Sometimes, indeed, the Conscript Fathers consulted on the state of the commonwealth in general; but even when summoned to deliberate on a particular subject, they seem to have enjoyed the privilege of talking about anything else which happened to be uppermost in their minds. Thus we find that Cicero took the opportunity of delivering his seventh Philippic when the Senate was consulted concerning the Appian Way, the coinage, and Luperci—subjects which had no relation to Antony, against whom he inveighed from one end of his oration to the other, without taking the least notice of the only points which were referred to the consideration of the senators[312]. The resolution of the major[pg 149]ity was expressed in the shape of a decree, which, though not properly a law, was entitled to the same reverence on the point to which it related; and, except in matters where the interests of the state required concealment, all pains were taken to give the utmost publicity to the whole proceedings of the Senate.

The number of the Senate varied, but in the time of Cicero, it was nearly the same as the British House of Commons; but it required a larger number to make a quorum. Sometimes there were between 400 and 500 members present; but 200, at least during certain seasons of the year, formed what was accounted a full house. This gave to senatorial eloquence something of the spirit and animation created by the presence of a popular assembly, while at the same time the deliberative majesty of the proceedings required a weight of argument and dignity of demeanour, unlooked for in the Comitia, or Forum. Accordingly, the levity, ingenuity, and wit, which were there so often crowned with success and applause, were considered as misplaced in the Senate, where the consular, or prætorian orator, had to prevail by depth of reasoning, purity of expression, and an apparent zeal for the public good.

It was the authority of the Senate, with the calm and imposing aspect of its deliberations, that gave to Latin oratory a somewhat different character from the eloquence of Greece, to which, in consequence of the Roman spirit of imitation, it bore, in many respects, so close a resemblance. The power of the Areopagus, which was originally the most dignified assembly at Athens, had been retrenched amid the democratic innovations of Pericles. From that period, everything, even the most important affairs of state, depended entirely, in the pure democracy of Athens, on the opinion, or rather the momentary caprice of an inconstant people, who were fond of pleasure and repose, who were easily swayed by novelty, and were confident in their power. As their precipitate decisions thus often hung on an instant of enthusiasm, the orator required to dart into their bosoms those electric sparks of eloquence which inflamed their passions, and left no corner of the mind fitted for cool consideration. It was the business of the speaker to allow them no time to recover from the shock, for its force would have been spent had they been permitted to occupy themselves with the beauties of style and diction. “Applaud not the orator,” says Demos[pg 150]thenes, at the end of one of his Philippics, “but do what I have recommended. I cannot save you by my words, you must save yourselves by your actions.” When the people were persuaded, every thing was accomplished, and their decision was embodied in a sort of decree by the orator. The people of Rome, on the other hand, were more reflective and moderate, and less vain than the Athenians; nor was the whole authority of the state vested in them. There was, on the contrary, an accumulation of powers, and a complication of different interests to be managed. Theoretically, indeed, the sovereignty was in the people, but the practical government was intrusted to the Senate. As we see from Cicero’s third oration, De Lege Agraria, the same affairs were often treated at the same time in the Senate and on the Rostrum. Hence, in the judicial and legislative proceedings, in which, as we have seen, the feelings of the judges and prejudices of the vulgar were so frequently appealed to, some portion of the senatorial spirit pervaded and controlled the popular assemblies, restrained the impetuosity of decision, and gave to those orators of the Forum, or Comitia, who had just spoken, or were to speak next day in the Senate, a more grave and temperate tone, than if their tongues had never been employed but for the purpose of impelling a headlong multitude.

But if the Greeks were a more impetuous and inconstant, they were also a more intellectual people than the Romans. Literature and refinement were more advanced in the age of Pericles than of Pompey. Now, in oratory, a popular audience must be moved by what corresponds to the feelings and taste of the age. With such an intelligent race as the Greeks, the orator was obliged to employ the most accurate reasoning, and most methodical arrangement of his arguments. The flowers of rhetoric, unless they grew directly from the stem of his discourse, were little admired. The Romans, on the other hand, required the excitation of fancy, of comparisons, and metaphors, and rhetorical decoration. Hence, the Roman orator was more anxious to seduce the imagination than convince the understanding; his discourse was adorned with frequent digressions into the field of morals and philosophy, and he was less studious of precision than of ornament.

On the whole, the circumstances in the Roman constitution and judicial procedure, appear to have wonderfully conspired to render

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