And it was Virgil’s aim in the Aeneid to show that this edifice of Roman Empire, of which the enterprise of Aeneas was the foundation, on which the old Kings of Alba and of Rome and the successive generations of great men under the Republic had successively laboured, and on which Augustus placed the coping-stone, was no mere work of human hands, but had been designed and built up by divine purpose and guidance. The Aeneid expresses the religious as it does the national sentiment of Rome. The two modes of sentiment were inseparable. The belief of the Romans in themselves was another form of their absolute faith in the invisible Power which protected them. This invisible Power was sometimes recognised by them under the name of ‘Fortuna Urbis,’—the spiritual counterpart of the city visible to their eyes. The recognition of this divinity was not only compatible with, but involved the recognition of, many other divinities associated with it in this protecting office. But to these numerous divinities no very distinct personality was attached. It was the awe of an ever-present invisible Power, manifesting itself by arbitrary signs, exacting jealously certain definite observances, capable of being alienated for a time by any deviation from these observances, and of being again appeased by a right reading of and humble compliance with its will, and working out its own purposes through the agency of the Roman arms and the wisdom of Roman counsels, that was the moving power of Roman religion. The Jove of the [pg 337]Capitol in early times, the living Emperor under the Empire, were the visible representatives of this mysterious Power. But its influence was acknowledged throughout all Roman history in the importance attached to the great priestly offices, and especially to that of Pontifex Maximus, which became inseparably united to the office of Emperor; in the scrupulous regard paid to the auspices through which this Power was believed to communicate its will; in the ominous interpretation put on all appearances of departure from the ordinary course of Nature; and in the reference to the Sibylline books in all questions of difficulty. This impersonal Power is to the Romans both the object of awe and the source of their confidence. They seem never to distrust the steadfastness of its favour. They rather feel themselves its willing instruments, co-operating with it, blindly sometimes and sometimes remissly, and for every failure of intelligence or vigilance, punished by temporal calamities.
The word by which Virgil recognises the agency of this impersonal, or perhaps we should rather say undefined, Power, is ‘Fatum,’ or more often in the plural, ‘Fata.’ It is by the ‘Fates’ that the action is set in motion and directed to its issue. The human and even the divine actors in the story are instruments in their hands; some more, some less conscious of the part they are performing. Even Jupiter is represented rather as cognisant of the Fates than as their author. Sometimes indeed they are spoken of as ‘Fata Iovis;’ and to the assurance given by him to Venus ‘manent immota tuorum Fata tibi,’ he adds the words ‘neque me sententia vertit[523].’ But again, while his will is suspended in a great crisis of the action, their operation is persistent and inevitable:—
Rex Iuppiter omnibus idem:
Fata viam invenient[524].
The original relation between this impersonal agency and the [pg 338]deliberate purpose of Jupiter is left undefined. But there is no collision between them. While the prayers of men are addressed to a conscious personal being, ‘Iuppiter omnipotens,’ the sovereignty of an impersonal Power over the fortunes of nations is acknowledged, as in the line—
Fortuna omnipotens et ineluctabile fatum[525].
Every reader of the Aeneid must feel the predominance of this idea in the poem, and the constantly recurring and even monotonous expression of it. In the first three books, for instance, the word ‘Fatum’ or ‘Fata’ occurs more than forty times. Aeneas starts on his wanderings ‘fato profugus.’ Juno desires to secure the empire of the world to Carthage ‘Si qua fata sinant.’ She struggles against the conviction of her powerlessness to prevent the Trojan settlement in Italy, ‘Quippe vetor fatis.’ Aeneas comforts his companions by the announcement of the peaceful settlements awaiting them,—
sedes ubi fata quietas
Ostendunt.
Venus consoles herself for the destruction of Troy by the thought of the destiny awaiting Aeneas, ‘fatis contraria fata rependens.’ Jupiter reassures her after the storm with the words ‘manent immota tuorum Fata tibi;’ and he reveals to her one page in their secret volume,—‘fatorum arcana movebo.’ Mercury is sent to prepare the reception of Aeneas in Carthage,