It is very difficult to determine which of these theories is the correct one; but there can be no doubt that the sources from which he derived his information are quite independent of the authority of Tacitus; and that the Lives of the Twelve Cæsars would have contained all that we find in them, even if the Annals and Histories had never been written. He does not only trust to the works of the Roman historians, but his exact quotations from acts of the senate and people, edicts, fasti, and orations, and the use which he makes of annals and inscriptions, prove that he was a man of diligent research, and that he examined original documents for himself.
Again, as a writer of biographical memoirs rather than of regular history, and fond of anecdote and scandal, he availed himself largely of such private letters of Emperors and their dependants as fell in his way, of testamentary documents, and of the information he could collect in conversation. Many of the lives which he wrote were those of his contemporaries. Some of the events recorded were passing under the eyes of the public, and were matters of notoriety. He himself asserts in three several places[[1239]] that he received some of the accounts which he gives from the testimony of eye-witnesses. The more secret habits of the Emperors, either truly told or exaggerated by an appetite for scandal, would ooze out. Anecdotes of the reigning Emperor’s private life would be eagerly sought for, and be the favourite topic of gossip in all circles of Roman society. Nor would he have any difficulty in procuring copious stores of information respecting those Emperors who reigned before he was born from those of his contemporaries who were a generation older than himself, and who were spectators of, or actors in, many of the scenes which he describes. As a biographer, there is no reason to doubt his honesty and veracity; he is industrious and careful; he indulges neither in ornament of style nor in romantic exaggeration; the picture which he draws is a terrible one, but it is fully supported by the contemporary authority of Juvenal and Tacitus. Nevertheless, his mind was not of that comprehensive and philosophical character which would qualify him for taking an enlarged view of political affairs, or for the work of an historian. He has no definite plan formed in his mind, without which an historian can never hope to make his work a complete whole; he wanders at will from one subject to another, just as the idea seizes him, and is by no means careful of committing offences against chronological order.
Niebuhr accuses him of inconsistency in the character which he draws and the praise which he bestows on Vespasian:[[1240]] but adds what may, in some sort, be considered a defence, namely, that Vespasian was, negatively speaking, a good, upright, and just man, and that the dark side of his character must be considered in reference to the fearful times in which he reigned. He also mentions, as an example of his deficiencies as an historian, the bad accounts which he has left of his own times, especially of the anarchy which followed Nero’s death, and the commencement of the reign of Vespasian. But in his praise it may be said that Suetonius has formed a just estimate of his own powers in undertaking to be a biographer and not an historian; and it is scarcely fair to criticise severely his unfitness for a task to which he made no pretensions.
One great fault pollutes his pages. The dark pictures which he draws of the most profligate Emperors, the disgusting annals of their unheard-of crimes, are dwelt upon as though he took pleasure in the description, and loved to wallow in the mire of the foulest debauchery. Truth, perhaps, required that they should not have been passed over in silence, but they might have been lightly touched, and not painted in detail with revolting faithfulness. He is often brief, sometimes obscure: in such passages of his narrative we would have gladly welcomed both brevity and obscurity.
Q. Curtius Rufus.
The doubts which have always been entertained respecting the time when the biographer of Alexander the Great flourished, and which no investigations have been sufficient to dissipate, render it impossible to pass him by unnoticed, although he may, perhaps, belong to an age beyond the chronological limits of this work. The purity of his style has, in the opinion of some critics, entitled him to a place among the writers of the silver age; whilst Niebuhr, judging by the internal evidence, thinks that he must have lived as late as the reign of Caracalla or Septimius Severus.
No valid argument, however, can be based upon his style, because it is evidently artificial: it is, indeed, infected with a love of declamatory ornament; it is sometimes more like poetry than prose; it abounds in metaphors, and therefore proves that he lived in a rhetorical age; but it is upon the whole an imitation of the Latinity of Livy. This rhetorical character of his style gives some value to the opinion of F. A. Wolf, that he was the Q. Curtius Rufus mentioned by Suetonius in his treatise on Illustrious Orators. If so, he was probably a contemporary.
With respect to internal evidence, reference has been made to two passages as containing allusions to his times. (1.) Multis ergo casibus defuncta (sc. Tyrus,) nunc tamen longa pace cuncta refovente, sub tutela Romanæ mansuetudinis acquiescit.[[1241]] (2.) Proinde jure meritoque P. R. salutem se principi suo debere profitetur, qui noctis, quam pæne supremam habuimus, novum sidus illuxit, hujus hercule, non solis ortus, lucem caliganti reddidit mundo, cum sine suo capite discordia membra trepidarent.[[1242]] The former has been considered descriptive of many periods in Roman history: although Niebuhr[[1243]] makes the unqualified assertion, that it has no meaning, unless it alludes to the times of Septimius Severus and Caracalla. The latter is equally vague: Niebuhr thinks it might refer to Aurelian: Gibbon considers that it alluded to Gordian. But to how many Emperors might a spirit of eulogistic flattery make it applicable! Upon the whole, it is most probable that he lived towards the close of the first century.
The biography of Alexander is deeply interesting; for, although Curtius evidently disdains historic reality, his hero always seems to have a living existence: it is a romance rather than a history. He never loses an opportunity by the colouring which he gives to historical facts of elevating the Macedonian conqueror to a superhuman standard. He has no inclination to weigh the merits of conflicting historical testimonies: he selects that which supports his partial predilections; nor are his talents for story-telling checked by a profound knowledge of either tactics or geography, or other objective historical materials, for correct details in which he is too frequently negligent.[[1244]] His florid and ornamented style is suitable to the imaginary orations which are introduced in the narrative, and which constitute the most striking portions of the work. The sources from which he derived his information are various, the principal one being the account of Alexander’s exploits by the Greek historian Clitarchus, who accompanied the Macedonian conqueror in his Asiatic expedition. He is, however, by no means a servile follower; for in one instance he does not hesitate to accuse him of inaccuracy. They were, however, kindred spirits: both would sacrifice truth to romantic interest; both indulged in the same tale-telling tendency. His work originally consisted of ten books. Two of these are lost, and their places have been supplied, in a very inferior manner, by Cellarius and Freinsheim. Even in the eight books which are extant, an hiatus of more or less extent occasionally occurs.