434. With the problem of the government of the universe Virgil’s mind is occupied throughout the Aeneid. He is constantly weighing the relative importance of the three forces, fate, the gods, and fortune, precisely as the philosophers do. To each of the three he assigns a part in the affairs of men; but that taken by fate is unmistakably predominant. The individual gods have very little importance in the poem; they are to a large extent allegorical figures, representing human instincts and passions; they cannot divert destiny from its path, though with their utmost effort they may slightly delay its work or change its incidence. Above all these little gods Jove towers aloft, a power magnificent and munificent; at his voice the gods shudder and the worlds obey. But the power of Jove rests upon his complete acceptance of the irrevocable decrees of fate[70]. The critic may even describe him as a puppet-king, who wears an outward semblance of royalty, but is really obedient to an incessant interference from a higher authority. Virgil however appears truly to hold the Stoic principle that Fate and Jove are one; he thus takes us at once to the final problem of philosophy, the reconciliation of the conceptions of Law formed on the one hand by observing facts (the modern ‘Laws of Nature’) and on the other hand by recognising the moral instinct (the modern ‘Moral Law’). As we have seen, a reconciliation of these two by logic is intrinsically impossible. Virgil however shows us how they may be in practice reconciled by a certain attitude of mind; and because that attitude is one of resignation to and cooperation with the supreme power, it would seem right to place Virgil by the side of Cleanthes as one of the religious poets of Stoicism.
Virgil’s ethics.
435. Virgil’s conception of ethics is displayed in the character of Aeneas. Much modern criticism revolts against the character of Aeneas exactly as it does against that of Cato, and for the same reason, that it is without sympathy for Stoic ethics. To understand Aeneas we must first picture a man whose whole soul is filled by a reverent regard for destiny and submission to Jove, who represents destiny on its personal side. He can therefore never play the part of the hero in revolt; but at the same time he is human, and liable to those petty weaknesses and aberrations from which even the sage is not exempt. He can hesitate or be hasty, can love or weep; but the sovereignty of his mind is never upset. In a happy phrase Virgil sums up the whole ethics of Stoicism:
‘Calm in his soul he abides, and the tears roll down, but in vain[71].’
In contrast to Aeneas stands Dido, intensely human and passionate, and in full rebellion against her destiny. She is to him Eve the temptress, Cleopatra the seducer; but she is not destined to win a final triumph. A modern romance would doubtless have a different ending.
Ovid.
436. Amongst writers who adopted much of the formal teaching of Stoicism without imbibing its spirit we may reckon Ovid (43 B.C.-18 A.D.). Not only does he accept the central idea of Stoicism, that it is the divine fire by virtue of which every man lives and moves[72], but he opens his greatest work by a description of the creation[73] which appears to follow Stoic lines, and in which the erect figure of man is specially recognised as the proof of the preeminence which Providence has assigned to him over all the other works of the Creator[74]. But the tales related in the Metamorphoses show no trace of the serious religious purpose of Virgil; and the society pictured in Ovid’s love poems gives only a caricature of the Stoic doctrines of the community of women, the absence of jealousy, and outspokenness of speech. Finally the plaintive tone of the Tristia shows how little Ovid was in touch with Stoic self-control amidst the buffetings of fortune.
Cremutius Cordus.
437. In the time of the next princeps we first find Stoicism associated with an unsympathetic attitude towards the imperial government. There was nothing in Stoic principles to suggest this opposition. Tiberius himself had listened to the teaching of the Stoic Nestor, and the simplicity of his personal life and the gravity of his manners might well have won him the support of sincere philosophers. But if Stoicism did not create the spirit of opposition, it confirmed it where it already existed. The memory of Cato associated Stoic doctrines with republican views: vague idealisations of Brutus and Cassius suggested the glorification of tyrannicide. Cremutius Cordus (ob. A.D. 25) had offended Seianus by a sarcastic remark: for when Tiberius repaired the theatre of Pompey, and the senate voted that a statue of Seianus should be erected there, Cordus said that this meant really spoiling the theatre[75]. Seianus then dropped a hint to his client Satrius, who accused Cordus before the senate of writing a history in which he highly praised Brutus, and declared Cassius to have been ‘the last of the Romans.’ A word of apology would have saved the life of Cordus; he resolved to die by his own act[76], to the great annoyance of his prosecutors[77]. From this time on suicide became an object of political ambition. The Stoic tradition continued in the family of Cordus, and to his daughter Marcia, as a fellow-member of the sect, Seneca addressed the well-known Consolatio[78]; but the title of ‘old Romans’ describes far better the true leanings of the men of whom Cordus was the forerunner.
Kanus Iulius.