It will be readily conceived that a people, who, like the first Romans, were chiefly occupied with war, and whose relaxation was agriculture, did not attach much importance to a science, of which the professed object was, teaching how to speak and write with propriety. Accordingly, almost six hundred years elapsed before they formed any idea of such a study[64]. Crates Mallotes, who was a contemporary of Aristarchus, and was sent as ambassador to Rome, by Attalus, King of Pergamus, towards the end of the sixth century[65], was the first who excited a taste for grammatical inquiries. Having accidentally broken his leg in the course of his embassy, he employed the period of his convalescence in receiving visitors, to whom he delivered lectures, containing grammatic disquisitions: and he also read and commented on poets hitherto unknown in Rome[66]. These discussions, however, probably turned solely on Greek words, and the interpretation of Greek authors. It is not likely that Crates had such a knowledge of the Latin tongue, as to give lectures on a subject which requires minute and extensive acquaintance with the language. His instructions, however, had the effect of fixing the attention of the Romans on their own language, and on their infant literature. Men sprung up who commented [pg 36]on, and explained, the few Latin poems which at that time existed. C. Octavius Lampadius illustrated the Punic War of Nævius; and also divided that poem into seven books. About the same time, Q. Vargunteius lectured on the Annals of Ennius, on certain fixed days, to crowded audiences. Q. Philocomus soon afterwards performed a similar service for the Satires of his friend Lucilius. Among these early grammarians, Suetonius particularly mentions Ælius Preconinus and Servius Clodius. The former was the master of Varro and Cicero; he was also a rhetorician of eminence, and composed a number of orations for the Patricians, to whose cause he was so ardently attached, that, when Metellus Numidicus was banished in 654, he accompanied him into exile. Serv. Clodius was the son-in-law of Lælius, and fraudulently appropriated, it is said, a grammatical work, written by his distinguished relative, which shows the honour and credit by this time attached to such pursuits at Rome. Clodius was a Roman knight; and, from his example, men of rank did not disdain to write concerning grammar, and even to teach its principles. Still, however, the greater number of grammarians, at least of the verbal grammarians, were slaves. If well versed in the science, they brought, as we learn from Suetonius, exorbitant prices. Luctatius Daphnis was purchased by Quintus Catulus for 200,000 pieces of money, and shortly afterwards set at liberty. This was a strong encouragement for masters to instruct their slaves in grammar, and for them to acquire its rules. Sævius Nicanor, and Aurelius Opilius, who wrote a commentary, in nine books, on different writers, were freedmen, as was also Antonius Gnipho, a Gaul, who had been taught Greek at Alexandria, whither he was carried in his youth, and was subsequently instructed in Latin literature at Rome. Though a man of great learning in the science he professed, he left only two small volumes on the Latin language—his time having been principally occupied in teaching. He taught first in the house of the father of Julius Cæsar, and afterwards lectured at home to those who chose to attend him. The greatest men of Rome, when far advanced in age and dignity, did not disdain to frequent his school. Many of his precepts, indeed, extended to rhetoric and declamation, the arts, of all others, in which the Romans were most anxious to be initiated. These were now taught in the schools of almost all grammarians, of whom there were, at one time, upwards of twenty in Rome. For a long while, only the Greek poets were publicly explained, but at length the Latin poets were likewise commented on and illustrated. About the same period, the etymology of Latin words began [pg 37]to be investigated: Ælius Gallus, a jurisconsult quoted by Varro, wrote a work on the origin and proper signification of terms of jurisprudence, which in most languages remain unvaried, till they have become nearly unintelligible; and Ælius Stilo attempted, though not with perfect success, to explain the proper meaning of the words of the Salian verses, by ascertaining their derivations[67].
The science of grammar and etymology was in this stage of progress and in this degree of repute at the time when Varro wrote his celebrated treatise De Lingua Latina. That work originally consisted of twenty-four books—the first three being dedicated to Publius Septimius, who had been his quæstor in the war with the pirates, and the remainder to Cicero. This last dedication, with that of Cicero’s Academica to Varro, has rendered their friendship immortal. The importance attached to such dedications by the great men of Rome, and the value, in particular, placed by Cicero on a compliment of this nature from Varro, is established by a letter of the orator to Atticus—“You know,” says he, “that, till lately, I composed nothing but orations, or some such works, into which I could not introduce Varro’s name with propriety. Afterwards, when I engaged in a work of more general erudition, Varro informed me, that his intention was, to address to me a work of considerable extent and importance. Two years, however, have passed away without his making any progress. Meanwhile, I have been making preparations for returning him the compliment[68].” Again, “I am anxious to know how you came to be informed that a man like Varro, who has written so much, without addressing anything to me, should wish me to pay him a compliment[69].” The Academica were dedicated to Varro before he fulfilled his promise of addressing a work to Cicero; and it appears, from Cicero’s letter to Varro, sent along with the Academica, how impatiently he expected its performance, and how much he importuned him for its execution.—“To exact the fulfilment of a promise,” says he, “is a sort of ill manners, of which the populace themselves are seldom guilty. I cannot, however, forbear—I will not say, to demand, but remind you, of a favour, which you long since gave me reason to expect. To this end, I have sent you four admonitors, (the four books of the Academica,) whom, perhaps, you will not consider as extremely modest[70].” It is curious, that, when Varro did at length come forth with his [pg 38]dedication, although he had been highly extolled in the Academica, he introduced not a single word of compliment to Cicero—whether it was that Varro dealt not in compliment, that he was disgusted with his friend’s insatiable appetite for praise, or that Cicero was considered as so exalted that he could not be elevated higher by panegyric.
We find in the work De Lingua Latina, which was written during the winter preceding Cæsar’s death, the same methodical arrangement that marks the treatise De Re Rustica. The twenty-four books of which it consisted, were divided into three great parts. The first six books were devoted to etymological researches, or, as Varro himself expresses it, quemadmodum vocabula essent imposita rebus in lingua Latina. In the first, second, and third books, of this division of his work, all of which have perished, the author had brought forward what an admirer of etymological science could advance in its favour—what a depreciator might say against it; and what might be pronounced concerning it without enthusiasm or prejudice.—“Quæ contra eam dicentur, quæ pro ea, quæ de ea.” The fragments remaining of this great work of Varro, commence at the fourth book, which, with the two succeeding books, is occupied with the origin of Latin terms and the poetical licenses that have been taken in their use: He first considers the origin of the names of places, and of those things which are in them. His great division of places is, into heaven and earth—Cœlum he derives from cavum, and that, from chaos; terra is so called quia teritur. The derivation of the names of many terrestrial regions is equally whimsical. The most rational are those of the different spots in Rome, which are chiefly named after individuals, as the Tarpeian rock, from Tarpeia, a vestal virgin slain by the Sabines—the Cœlian Mount, from Cœlius, an Etrurian chief, who assisted Romulus in one of his contests with his neighbours. Following the same arrangement with regard to those things which are in places, he first treats of the immortals, or gods of heaven and earth. Descending to mortal things, he treats of animals, whom he considers as in three places—air, water, and earth. The creatures inhabiting earth he divides into men, cattle, and wild beasts. Of the appellations proper to mankind, he speaks first of public honours, as the office of Prætor, who was so called, “quod præiret exercitui.” We have then the derivations both of the generic and special names of animals. Thus, Armenta (quasi aramenta) is from aro, because oxen are used for ploughing; Lepus is quasi Levipes. The remainder of the book is occupied with those words which relate to food, clothing, and various sorts [pg 39]of utensils. Of these, the derivation is given, and it is generally far-fetched. But of all his etymologies, the most whimsical is that contained in his book of Divine Things, where he deduces fur from furvus, (dusky,) because thieves usually steal during the darkness of night[71].
The fifth book relates to words expressive of time and its divisions, and to those things which are done in the course of time. He begins with the months and days consecrated to the service of the gods, or performance of accustomed rites. Things which happen during the lapse of time, are divided into three classes, according to the three great human functions of thought, speech, and act. The third class, or actions, are performed by means of the external senses; the mention of which introduces the explication of those terms which express the various operations of the senses; and the book terminates with a list of vocables derived from the Greek. These two books relate the common employment of words. In the sixth, the author treats of poetic words, and the poetic or metaphoric use of ordinary terms, of which he gives examples. Here he follows the same arrangement already adopted—speaking first of places, and then of time, and showing, as he proceeds, the manner in which poets have changed or corrupted the original signification of words.
Such is the first division of the work of Varro, forming what he himself calls the etymological part. He admits that it was a subject of much difficulty and obscurity, since many original words had become obsolete in course of time, and of those which survived, the meaning had been changed or had never been imposed with exactness. The second division, which extended from the commencement of the seventh to the end of the twelfth book, comprehended the accidents of words, and the different changes which they undergo from declension, conjugation, and comparison. The author admits but of two kinds of words—nouns and verbs, to which he refers all the other parts of speech. He distinguishes two sorts of declensions, of which he calls one arbitrary, and the other natural or necessary; and he is thenceforth alternately occupied with analogy and anomaly. In the seventh book he discusses the subject of analogy in general, and gives the arguments which may be adduced against its existence in nouns proper: In the eighth, he reasons like those who find analogies everywhere. Book ninth treats of the analogy and anomaly of verbs, and with it the fragment we possess of Varro’s treatise terminates. The three other books, which completed the second part, were [pg 40]of course occupied with comparison and the various inflections of words.
The third part of the work, which contained twelve books, treated of syntax, or the junction of words, so as to form a phrase or sentence. It also contained a sort of glossary, which explained the true meaning of Latin vocables.
This, which may be considered as one of the chief works of Varro, was certainly a laborious and ingenious production; but the author is evidently too fond of deriving words from the ancient dialects of Italy, instead of recurring to the Greek, which, after the capture of Tarentum, became a great source of Latin terms. In general, the Romans, like the Greeks before them, have been very unfortunate in their etymologies, being but indifferent critics, and inadequately informed of everything that did not relate to their own country. Blackwell, in his Court of Augustus, while he admits that the sagacity of Varro is surprising in the use which he has made of the knowledge he possessed of the Sabine and Tuscan dialects, remarks, that his work, De Lingua Latina, is faulty in two particulars; the first, arising from the author having recourse to far-fetched allusions and metaphors in his own language, to illustrate his etymology of words, instead of going at once to the Greek. The second, proceeding from his ignorance of the eastern and northern languages, particularly the Aramean and Celtic[72]; the former of which, in Blackwell’s opinion, had given names to the greater number of the gods, and the latter, to matters occurring in war and rustic life.
It is not certain whether the Libri De Similitudine Verborum, and those De Utilitate Sermonis, cited by Priscian and Charisius as philological works of Varro, were parts of his great production, De Lingua Latina, or separate compositions. There was a distinct treatise, however, De Sermone Latino, addressed to Marcellus, of which a very few fragments are preserved by Aulus Gellius.
The critical works of this universal scholar, were entitled, De Proprietate Scriptorum—De Poetis—De Poematis—Theatrales, sive de Actionibus Scenicis—De Scenicis Originibus—De Plautinis Comœdiis—De Plautinis Quæstionibus—De Compositione Satirarum—Rhetoricorum Libri. These works are praised or mentioned by Gellius, Nonius Marcellus, and Diomedes; but almost nothing is known of their contents.
Somewhat more may be gathered concerning Varro’s mythological or theological works, as they were much studied, and [pg 41]very frequently cited by the early fathers, particularly St Augustine and Lactantius. Of these the chief is the treatise De Cultu Deorum, noticed by St Augustine in his seventh book, De Civitate Dei, where he says that Varro considers God to be not only the soul of the world, but the world itself. In this work he also treated of the origin of hydromancy, and other superstitious divinations. Sixteen books of the treatise De Rerum Humanarum et Divinarum Antiquitatibus, addressed to Julius Cæsar, as Pontifex Maximus, related to theological, or at least what we might call ecclesiastical subjects. He divides theology into three sorts—mythic, physical, and civil. The first is chiefly employed by poets, who have feigned many things contrary to the nature and dignity of the immortals, as that they sprung from the head, or thigh, or from drops of blood—that they committed thefts and impure actions, and were the servants of men. The second species of theology is that which we meet with in the books of philosophers, in which it is discussed, whether the gods have been from all eternity, and what is their essence, whether of fire, or numbers, or atoms. Civil, or the third kind of theology, relates to the institutions devised by men, for the worship of the Gods. The first sort is most appropriate to the stage; the second to the world; the third to the city. Varro was a zealous advocate for the physical explication of the mythological fables, to which he always had recourse, when pressed by the difficulties of their literal meaning[73]. He also seems to have been of opinion that the images of the gods were originally intended to direct such as were acquainted with the secret doctrines, to the contemplation of the real gods, and of the immortal soul with its constituent parts[74]. The first book of this work, as we learn from St Augustine, was introductory. The three following treated of the ministers of religion, the Pontiffs, Augurs, and Sibyls; in mentioning whom, he relates the well-known story of her who offered her volumes for sale to Tarquinius Priscus. In the next ternary of chapters, he discoursed concerning places appointed for religious worship, and the celebration of sacred rites. The third ternary related to holidays; the fourth to consecrations, and to private as well as public sacrifices; and the fifth contained an enumeration of all the deities who watch over man, from the moment when Janus opens to him the gates of life, till the dirges of Nænia conduct him to the tomb. The whole universe, he says, in conclusion, is divided into heaven [pg 42]and earth; the heavens, again, into æther and air; earth, into the ground and water. All these are full of souls, mortal in earth and water, but immortal in air and æther. Between the highest circle of heaven and the orbit of the moon, are the ethereal souls of the stars and planets, which are understood, and in fact seem, to be celestial deities; between the sphere of the moon and the highest region of tempests, dwell those aerial spirits, which are conceived by the mind though not seen by the eye—departed heroes, Lares, and Genii.