Handbook of Universal Literature, From the Best and Latest Authorities

by Anne C. Lynch Botta

PERIOD THIRD.

FROM THE DEATH OF AUGUSTUS TO THE CLOSE OF THE REIGN OF THEODORIC (14-526 A.D.).

1. DECLINE OF ROMAN LITERATURE.—With the death of Augustus began the decline of Roman literature, and a few names only rescue the first years of this period from the charge of a corrupt and vitiated taste. After a while, indeed, political circumstances again became more favorable; the dangers, which paralyzed genius and talent, and prevented their free exercise under Tiberius and his tyrannical successors, diminished, and a more liberal system of administration ensued under Vespasian and Titus. Juvenal and Tacitus then stood forth, as the representatives of the old Roman independence. Vigor of thought communicated itself to the language; a taste for the sublime and beautiful, to a certain extent, revived, although it did not attain to the perfection which shed a lustre over the Augustan age. Between the ages of Horace and Juvenal, Cicero and Tacitus, there was a gap of half a century, in which Roman genius was slumbering. The gradual growth of a spirit of adulation deterred all who were qualified for the task of the historian from attempting it. Fear, during the lifetime of Tiberius and Caligula, Claudius and Nero, and hatred, still fresh after their deaths, rendered all accounts of their reigns false. And the same causes which silenced the voice of history extinguished the genius of poetry and oratory. As liberty declined, natural eloquence decayed; the orator sought only to please the corrupt taste of his audiences with strange and exaggerated statements; the poet aimed to win public admiration through a style over-laden with ornament, and florid and diffuse descriptions. Literature, in order to flourish, requires the genial sunshine of human sympathy; it needs either the patronage of the great, or the favor of the people. Immediately after the death of Augustus, patronage was withdrawn, and there was no public sympathy to supply its place. In the reign of Nero, literature partially revived; for, though the bloodiest of tyrants, he had a taste for art and poetry, and an ambition to excel in refinement.

2. FABLE.—In fable, as in other fields of literature, Rome was an imitator of Greece, but nevertheless Phaedrus struck out a new line for himself, and, through his fables, became not only a moral instructor, but a political satirist. Phaedrus (fl. 16 A.D.), the originator and only author of Roman fable, though born in the reign of Augustus, wrote when the Augustan age had passed away. His works are, as it were, isolated; he had no contemporaries. Nevertheless, his solitary voice was lifted up when those of the poet, the historian, and the philosopher were silenced. The moral and political lessons conveyed in his fables were suggested by the evils of the times in which he lived. Some of them illustrate the danger of riches and the comparative safety of obscurity and poverty, in an age when the rich were marked for destruction, in order that the confiscation of their property might glut the avarice of the emperor and of his servants; others were suggested by historical events, being nevertheless satirical strictures on individuals. The style of Phaedrus is pure and classical, and combines the simple neatness and graceful elegance of the golden age with the vigor and terseness of the silver one. He has the facility of Ovid and the brevity of Tacitus. In the construction of his fables, he displays observation and ingenuity; but he is deficient in imagination. He makes his animals the vehicles of his wisdom, but he does not throw himself into them, or identify himself with them; while they look and act like animals, they talk like human beings. In this consists the great superiority of Aesop to his Roman imitator; his brutes are a superior race, but they are still brutes, and it would seem that the fabulist had lived among them as one of themselves, had adopted their mode of life, and conversed with them in their own language. In Phaedrus we have human sentiments translated into the language of beasts, while in Aesop we have beasts giving utterance to such sentiments as would be naturally theirs if they were placed in the position of men.

3. SATIRE AND EPIGRAM.—Roman satire, subsequently to Horace, is represented by Persius and Juvenal. Persius (34-62 A.D.) early attached himself to the Stoic philosophy. He was pure in mind, and free from the corrupt taint of an immoral age. Although Lucilius was, to a certain extent, his model, he does not attack vice with the biting severity of the old satirist, nor do we find in his writings the enthusiastic indignation which burns in the verses of Juvenal. His purity of mind and kindliness of heart disinclined him to portray vice in its hideous and loathsome forms, and to indulge in that bitterness of invective which the prevalent enormities of his times deserved. His uprightness and love of virtue are shown by the uncompromising severity with which he rebukes sins of not so deep a dye; and the heart which was capable of being moulded by his example, and influenced by his purity, would have shrunk from the fearful crimes which deform the pages of Juvenal. The greatest defect in Persius, as a satirist, is that the Stoic philosophy in which he was educated rendered him indifferent to the affairs of the world. His contemplative habits led him to criticise, as his favorite subjects, false taste in poetry and empty pretensions to philosophy. Horace mingled in the society of the profligate and considering them as fools, laughed their folly to scorn. Juvenal looked down upon the corruption of the age from the eminence of his virtue, and punished it like an avenging deity. Persius, pure in heart and passionless by education, while he lashes wickedness in the abstract, almost ignores its existence, and shrinks from probing to the bottom the vileness of the human heart. His works comprise six satires, all of which breathe the natural amiability and placid cheerfulness of his temper.

Juvenal flourished in the reign of Domitian, towards the close of the first century A.D., a dark period, which saw the utter moral degradation of the people, and the bloodiest tyranny and oppression on the part of their rulers. The picture of Roman manners, as painted by his glowing pencil, is truly appalling. The fabric of society was in ruins, the popular religion was rejected with scorn, and the creed of natural religion had not occupied its place. The emperors took part in public scenes of folly and profligacy, and exposed themselves as charioteers, as dancers, and as actors. Nothing was respected but wealth, nothing provoked contempt but poverty. Players and dancers had all honors and offices at their disposal; the city swarmed with informers, who made the rich their prey; every man feared his most intimate friend, and the only bond of friendship was to be an accomplice in crime. The teacher would corrupt his pupil, and the guardian defraud his ward. Crimes which cannot be named were common, and the streets of Rome were the constant scene of robbery, assault, and assassination. The morals of women were as depraved as those of men, and there was no public amusement so immoral or so cruel as not to be countenanced by their presence. In this period of moral dearth, the fountains of genius and literature were dried up. There was criticism, declamation, panegyric, and verse writing, but no oratory, history, or poetry. Juvenal, though himself not free from the declamatory affectation of the day, attacked the false literary taste of his contemporaries as unsparingly as he did their depraved morality. His sixteen satires exhibit an enlightened, truthful, and comprehensive view of Roman manners, and of the inevitable result of such depravity. The two finest of them are those which Dr. Johnson has thought worthy of imitation.

The historical value of these satires must not be forgotten. Tacitus lived in the same perilous times as Juvenal, and when they had come to an end and it was not unsafe to speak, he wrote their public history, which the poet illustrates by displaying the social and inner life of the Romans. Their works are parallel, and each forms a commentary upon the other. The style of Juvenal is vigorous and lucid; his morals were pure in the midst of a debased age, and his language shines forth in classic elegance, in the midst of specimens of declining and degenerate taste.

Juvenal closes the list of Roman satirists, properly speaking. The satirical spirit animates the piquant epigrams of his friend Martial, but their purpose is not moral or didactic. They sting the individual, and render him an object of scorn and disgust, but they do not hold up vice itself to ridicule and detestation.

Martial (43-104 A.D.) was born in Spain. He early emigrated to Rome, where he became a favorite of Titus and Domitian, and in the reign of the latter he was appointed to the office of court-poet. During thirty-five years, he lived at Rome the life of a flatterer and a dependent, and then he returned to his native town, where his death was hastened by his distaste for provincial life. Measured by the corrupt standard of morals which disgraced the age in which he lived, Martial was probably not worse than most of his contemporaries; for the fearful profligacy, which his powerful pen describes in such hideous terms, had spread through Rome its loathsome infection. Had he lived in better times, his talents might have been devoted to a purer object; as it was, no language is strong enough to denounce the impurities of his page, and his moral taste must have been thoroughly depraved not to have turned with disgust from the contemplation of such subjects. But not all his poems are of this character. Amidst some obscurity of style and want of finish, many are redolent of Greek sweetness and elegance. Here and there are pleasing descriptions of the beauties of nature, and many are kind-hearted and full of varied wit, poetical imagination, and graceful expression. To the original characteristics of the Greek epigram, Martial, more than any other poet, added that which constitutes an epigram in the modern sense of the term: pointedness either in jest or earnest, and the bitterness of personal satire.

4. DRAMATIC LITERATURE.—Dramatic literature never flourished in Rome, and still less under the empire. During this period there were not wanting some imitators of Greece in this noble branch of poetry, but their productions were rather literary than dramatic; they were poems composed in a dramatic form, intended to be read, not acted. They contain noble philosophical sentiments, lively descriptions, and passages full of tenderness and pathos, but they are deficient in dramatic effect, and positively offend against those laws of good taste which regulated the Athenian stage. In the Augustan age, a few writers attained some excellence in tragedy, at least in the opinion of ancient critics.