The slow but steady rise of an obscure inland Italian town, first to the rule of all Italy, and finally to imperial sway over the whole Mediterranean world, is as full of problems for the intellect as of fascination for the imagination. Whence the extraordinary vigour and practical genius of this city? What gave it so much capacity in comparison with any other Italian town? Does the secret lie in the Roman character, the Roman intellect, or in the constitution of the republican city itself? But other questions still more serious press for answers: How did the Roman government affect the subject provinces? How did it react upon the Roman character and upon the life of the capital? Could a single city furnish men of character and ability in sufficient numbers for such a prodigious task?
The answer to these grave questions must be sought in the history of the last century of the existence of the republic. From about 145 B. C. to about 48 B. C. Rome was never at rest: violent political strife, faction, proscriptions and civil wars eclipse everything else in the internal history of the imperial city during these years. The old state machinery was getting worn out; the old families, corrupted by the immeasurable success of the Rome which was their making, were grinding the provinces by their cruelty and greed, and would not budge an inch from their privileges, nor indeed lift a finger, to save Rome and Italy from the moral and economic ruin with which they were threatened. The wrongs of the slave, the Italian and the provincial cried aloud for redress; scarcely less urgent was the need for the introduction of a great deal of fresh blood into the governing classes; but the latter were bitterly hostile to every change. Hence the violent struggles throughout the century between the Government and the other classes. The empire had proved too much for the old Roman character.[[158]] The only force that remained really efficient was the army.
Who shall describe the ruin, bloodshed, misery, desolation, wrought by these years? The national character suffered a frightful fall also: corruption in public, immorality in private, became all but universal. The weariness and the hopelessness generated by the seemingly unending strife made men forget their old passion for freedom and sigh even for tyranny, if only it would bring peace.
Relief came when Julius Cæsar crushed Pompey at Pharsalus in B. C. 48. There was fighting here and there for two years more, but it was of little consequence. Pharsalus made Cæsar the monarch of Rome. He lived barely four years after his victory; for the daggers of the conspirators found his heart on the 15th of March, 44 B. C.; yet by a series of masterly administrative and legislative acts he laid in great broad lines the foundation of the new empire and set in motion the healthy forces that were needed for the regeneration of Rome and Italy. His work is Titanic both in conception and execution. Seldom has such a great man executed such a mighty task.
But his murder loosed all the old fiends again, and they worked wilder woe than ever. For now the whole gigantic empire was drawn into the whirlpool, and the provinces were only a little less miserable than Italy. During Cæsar’s own struggle his mighty genius and his magnanimity had thrown a glory upon the murky clouds of the storm; but now that the sun was set, black darkness settled over the unhappy empire.[[159]]
There was a pause in the strife, when, in B. C. 40, a treaty was drawn up between Octavian and Antony at Brundisium and confirmed by the marriage of Antony to the sister of Octavian. Men hoped that the end had come at last and that the world would enjoy a lasting peace.
It was during this bright moment that Virgil, who later was to write the Aeneid, and so earn for himself a very great name in European literature, composed a short poem, which finds a place among his Pastorals, and is named Pollio. Here is a translation of lines four to twenty-five, which will be found quite sufficient to bring the main ideas of the poem before us:—
“The last epoch of the Sybil’s prophecy has come at length; the great series of the ages is being born anew; at length the virgin, Justice, is returning, returning too the reign of Saturn; at length a new race of men is being sent down from heaven high. Do thou, Lucina, but smile thy chaste smile upon a boy with whose coming at last ceases the iron race and the golden springs up throughout the world; do so, Lucina: it is thine own Apollo that now reigns. It is in thy consulship, Pollio, that this glorious age will come in, and the months of the great year will begin their march. Under thy leadership all traces that remain of Roman crime in civil strife shall pass away, and passing, free the lands from constant fear.
“He shall receive the life of the gods, and shall behold gods and heroes mingling together; and himself shall be beheld by them; and with his father’s virtues he shall rule the world at peace.
“Unasked the earth shall shower upon thee, sweet boy, thy first baby gifts, the gadding ivy with the fox-glove, and lily-bean entwined with smiling bear’s-foot. The goats shall bring home uncalled their milk-filled udders; the harts shall no longer fear great lions; and flowers shall spring to caress thee where’er thou liest down. The asp shall perish; the treacherous, poison herb shall perish too; and everywhere shall spring Assyrian balm.”[[160]]