Of these, the most important was the Treatise De Republicâ, which, in the general wreck of learning, shared the fate of the institutions it was intended to celebrate. The greater part of this dialogue having disappeared along with the Origines of Cato, the works of Varro, and the History of Sallust, we have been deprived of all the writings which would have thrown the most light on the Roman institutions, manners, and government—of everything, in short, which philosophically traced the progress of Rome, from its original barbarism to the perfection which it had attained in the age of the second Scipio Africanus.
There are few monuments of ancient literature, of which the disappearance had excited more regret, than that of the work De Republicâ, which was long believed to have been the grand repository of all the political wisdom of the ancients. The great importance of the subject—treated, too, by a writer at once distinguished by his genius and former [pg 264]official dignity; the pride and predilection with which the author himself speaks of it, and the sublimity and beauty of the fragment entitled Somnium Scipionis, preserved from it by Macrobius, all concurred to exalt this treatise in the imagination of the learned, and to exasperate their vexation at its loss. The fathers of the church, particularly Lactantius, had afforded some insight into the arguments employed in it on different topics; several fragments existed in the works of the grammarians, and a complete copy was extant as late as the 11th century. Since that time the literary world have been flattered at different periods with hopes of its discovery; but it is only within the last few years that such a portion of it has been recovered, as may suffice, in a considerable degree, to satisfy curiosity, though not perhaps to fulfil expectation.
It is well known to many, and will be mentioned more fully in the [Appendix], that owing to a scarcity of papyrus and parchment, it was customary, at different times, to erase old, in order to admit new, writing. To a MS. of this kind, the name of Palimpsest has been given—a term made use of by Cicero himself. In a letter to the lawyer Trebatius, who had written to him on such a sheet, Cicero says, “that while he must praise him for his parsimony in employing a palimpsest, he cannot but wonder what he had erased to scribble such a letter, except it were his law notes: For I cannot think,” adds he, “that you would efface my letter to substitute your own[457].” This practice became very common in the middle ages, when both the papyrus and parchment were scarce, and when the classics were, with few exceptions, no longer the objects of interest. Montfaucon had remarked, that these obliterated MSS. were perhaps more numerous than those which had been written on for the first time[458]. But though in some cases the original writing was still visible on close observation, no practical use was made of such inspection till Angelo Mai published some fragments recovered from palimpsest MSS. in the Ambrosian library, of which he was keeper. Encouraged by his success, he persevered in this new pursuit, and published at intervals fragments of considerable value. At length, being called to Rome as a recompense for his learned labours, Mai prosecuted in the Vatican those noble researches which he had commenced at Milan; and it is to him we now owe the discovery and publication of a considerable portion of Cicero De Republicâ, which had been expunged, (it is supposed in [pg 265]the 6th century,) and crossed by a new writing, which contained a commentary by St Augustine on the Psalms[459].
The work De Republicâ was begun by Cicero in the month of May, in the year 699, when the author was in the fifty-second year of his age, so that, of all his philosophical writings, it was at least the earliest commenced. In a letter to his brother Quintus, he tells him that he had employed himself in his Cuman and Pompeian villas, in writing a large and laborious political work; that, should it succeed to his mind, it would be well, but, if not, he would cast it into that sea which was in view when he wrote it; and, as it was impossible for him to be idle, commence some other undertaking[460]. He had proceeded, however, but a little way, when he repeatedly changed the whole plan of the work; and it is curious to perceive, that an author of so perfect a genius as Cicero, had similar advices from friends, and the same discouragement, and doubts, and irresolution, which agitate inferior writers.
When he had finished the first and second books, they were read to some of his friends at his Tusculan villa. Sallust, who was one of the company present, advised him to change his plan, and to treat the subject in his own person—alleging that the introduction of those ancient philosophers and statesmen, to whom Cicero had assigned parts in the dialogue, instead of adding gravity, gave a fictitious air to the argument, which would have greater weight if delivered from Cicero himself, as being the work, not of a sophist or contemplative theorist, but of a consular senator and statesman, conversant in the greatest affairs, and writing only what his own experience had taught him to be true. These reasons seemed to Cicero very plausible, and for some time made him think of altering his plan, especially since, by placing the scene of the dialogue so far back, he had precluded himself from touching on those important revolutions in the Republic, which were later than the period to which he had confined himself. But after some deliberation, feeling reluctant to throw away the [pg 266]two books which were already finished, and with which he was much pleased, he resolved to adhere to his original plan[461]. And as he had preferred it from the first, for the sake of avoiding offence, so he pursued it without any other alteration than that he now limited to six what he had before proposed to extend to nine books. These six were made public previously to his departure for the government of Cilicia. While there, he received the epistolary congratulations of his friends on their success[462], and in his answers he discloses all the delight of a gratified and successful author[463].
Mai discusses at considerable length the question, To whom the treatise De Republicâ was dedicated. The beginning of the proœmium to the first book, which might have determined this point, is lost; but the author says, “Disputatio repetenda memoriâ est, quæ mihi, tibique quondam adolescentulo, est a P. Rutilio Rufo, Zmyrnæ cùm simul essemus, complures dies exposita.” Cicero was at Smyrna in the twenty-ninth year of his age, and it is evident that his companion, to whom this treatise is dedicated, was younger than himself, as he says, “Mihi, tibique quondam adolescentulo.” Atticus was two years older than Cicero, and therefore could not be the person. In fact, there is every reason to suppose that the treatise De Republicâ was dedicated to its author’s younger brother Quintus, who, as we know from the proœmium of the last book, De Finibus, was with Cicero at Athens during the voyage, in the course of which he touched at Smyrna—who probably attended him to Asia,—and whose age suited the expression “mihi, tibique adolescentulo.” Add to this, that Cicero, when he mentions to his brother, (in the passage of the letter above referred to,) that he meant to alter the plan of his work, says, “Nunc loquar ipse tecum, et tamen illa quæ institueram ad te, si Romam venero, mittam[464].” The work in its first concoction, therefore, was addressed to Quintus, and, as the author, after some hesitation, published it nearly in its original form, it can scarcely be doubted that it was still dedicated to his brother.
The first book De Republicâ, which was one of those read by Cicero to Sallust and some other friends, in his Tusculan villa, is, as already mentioned, imperfect at the commencement. Not much, however, seems to be wanting, and a prologue of considerable length still remains, in which the author [pg 267](pleading, perhaps, his own cause) combats the opinions of philosophers, who, preferring a contemplative to an active life, blame those who engage in public affairs. To the former he opposes the example of many wise and great men, and answers those objections to a busy political life, which have been repeatedly urged against it. This prologue contains some good reasoning, and, like all the writings of its illustrious author, displays a noble patriotic feeling. He remarks, that he had entered into this discussion as introductory to a book concerning the republic, since it seemed proper, as prefatory to such a work, to combat the sentiments of those who deny that a philosopher should be a statesman. “As to the work itself,” says he, addressing (as I have supposed) his brother, “I shall lay down nothing new or peculiar to myself, but shall repeat a discussion which once took place among the most illustrious men of their age, and the wisest of our state, such as it was related to myself, and to you when a youth, by P. Rutilius Rufus, when we were with him some days at Smyrna—in which discussion nothing of importance to the right constitution of a commonwealth, appears to have been omitted.”
The author then proceeds to mention, that during the consulship of Tuditanus and Aquilius, (as he had heard from Rufus,) the younger Scipio Africanus determined to pass the Latin festivals (Latinæ Feriæ) in his gardens, where some of his most intimate friends had promised to visit him. The first of these who makes his appearance is his nephew, Quintus Tubero, a person devoted to the Stoical philosophy, and noted for the austerity of his manners. A remark which Tubero makes about two suns, a prodigy which, it seems, had lately appeared in the heavens, leads Scipio to praise Socrates for his abandonment of physical pursuits, as neither very useful to man, nor capable of being thoroughly investigated—a sentiment (by the way) which, with all due submission to the Greek philosopher, does little credit to his sagacity, as physical inquiries have been not only highly useful to mankind, but are almost the only subjects in which accurate science has been attained. Furius, Philus, and Rutilius, who is stated to have related the discussion to Cicero, now enter, and, at last, comes Lælius, attended by his friend, Spurius Mummius, (brother to the well-known connoisseur in the fine arts who took Corinth,) and by his two sons-in-law, C. Fannius and Q. Scævola. After saluting them, Scipio, as it was now winter, takes them to a sunny spot, in a meadow, and in proceeding thither the party is joined by M. Manilius.
“In this choice of his principal speakers, Cicero,” as has been well remarked, “was extremely judicious and happy. It [pg 268]was necessary that the persons selected should have been distinguished both as statesmen and as scholars, in order that a philosophical discussion might appear consistent with their known characters, and that a high political reputation might give authority to their remarks on government. Scipio and Lælius united both these requisites in a remarkable degree. They were among the earliest of the Romans who added the graces of Grecian taste and learning to the manly virtues of their own ruder country. These accomplishments had refined and polished their characters, without at all detracting from their force and purity. The very name of the Scipios, the duo fulmina belli, was the symbol of military talent, patriotism, and magnanimity: Lælius was somewhat less distinguished in active life; but enjoyed, on the other hand, a still higher reputation for contemplative wisdom[465].”
After the party had been all seated, the subject of the two suns is resumed; and Lælius, while he remarks that they had enough to occupy attention in matters more at hand, adds, that since they were at present idle, he for his part, had no objection to hear Philus, who was fond of astronomical pursuits, on the subject. Philus, thus encouraged, proceeds to give an account of a kind of Orrery, which had been formed by Archimedes, and having been brought to Rome by Marcellus, its structure, as well as uses, had on one occasion, when Philus was present, been explained by C. Sulpicius Gallus. The application of this explanation to the phenomenon of the two suns is lost, as a hiatus of eight pages here occurs in the palimpsest. Probably, the solution of the problem would not, if extant, make a great figure in the Philosophical Transactions. But one cannot fail to admire the discursive and active genius of Cicero, who considered all knowledge as an object deserving ardent pursuit[466].