BY
JOHN DUNLOP,
AUTHOR OF THE HISTORY OF FICTION.

James Kay, Jun. Printer,
S. E. Corner of Race & Sixth Streets,
Philadelphia.

Contents.

HISTORY

OF

ROMAN LITERATURE, &c.

[pg 5]

HISTORY

OF

ROMAN LITERATURE, &c.

In almost all States, poetical composition has been employed and considerably improved before prose. First, because the imagination expands sooner than reason or judgment; and, secondly, because the early language of nations is best adapted to the purposes of poetry, and to the expression of those feelings and sentiments with which it is conversant.

Thus, in the first ages of Greece, verse was the ordinary written language, and prose was subsequently introduced as an art and invention. In like manner, at Rome, during the early advances of poetry, the progress of which has been detailed in the preceding volume, prose composition continued in a state of neglect and barbarism.

The most ancient prose writer, at least of those whose works have descended to us, was a man of little feeling or imagination, but of sound judgment and inflexible character, who exercised his pen on the subject of Agriculture, which, of all the peaceful arts, was most highly esteemed by his countrymen.

The long winding coast of Greece, abounding in havens, and the innumerable isles with which its seas were studded, rendered the Greeks, from the earliest days, a trafficking, seafaring, piratic people: And many of the productions of their oldest poets, are, in a great measure, addressed to what may be called the maritime taste or feeling which prevailed among their countrymen. This sentiment continued to be cherished as long as the chief literary state in Greece preserved [pg 6]the sovereignty of the seas—compelled its allies to furnish vessels of war, and trusted to its naval armaments for the supremacy it maintained during the brightest ages of Greece. In none either of the Doric or Ionian states, was agriculture of such importance as to exercise much influence on manners or literature. Their territories were so limited, that the inhabitants were never removed to such a distance from the capital as to imbibe the ideas of husbandmen. In Thessaly and Lacedæmon, agriculture was accounted degrading, and its cares were committed to slaves. The vales of Bœotia were fruitful, but were desolated by floods. Farms of any considerable extent could scarcely be laid down on the limited, though lovely isles of the Ægean and Ionian seas. The barren soil and mountains of the centre of Peloponnesus confined the Arcadians to pasturage—an employment bearing some analogy to agriculture, but totally different in its mental effects, leading to a life of indolence, contemplation, and wandering, instead of the industrious, practical, and settled habits of husbandmen. Though the Athenians breathed the purest air beneath the clearest skies, and their long summer was gilded by the brightest beams of Apollo, the soil of Attica was sterile and metallic; while, from the excessive inequalities in its surface, all the operations of agriculture were of the most difficult and hazardous description. The streams were overflowing torrents, which stripped the soil, leaving nothing but a light sand, on which grain would scarcely grow. But it was with the commencement of the Peloponnesian war that the exercise of agriculture terminated in Attica. The country being left unprotected, owing to the injudicious policy of Pericles, was annually ravaged by the Spartans, and the husbandmen were forced to seek refuge within the walls of Athens. In the early part of the age of Pericles, the Athenians possessed ornamented villas in the country; but they always returned to the city in the evening[1]. We do not hear that the great men in the early periods of the republic, as Themistocles and Aristides, were farmers; and the heroes of its latter ages, as Iphicrates and Timotheus, chose their retreats in Thrace, the islands of the Archipelago, or coast of Ionia.

A picture, in every point of view the reverse of this, is presented to us by the Agreste Latium. The ancient Italian mode of life was almost entirely agricultural and rural; and with exception, perhaps, of the Etruscans, none of the Italian states were in any degree maritime or commercial. Italy was well adapted for every species of agriculture, and was [pg 7]most justly termed by her greatest poet, magna parens frugum. Dionysius of Halicarnassus[2], Strabo[3], and Pliny[4], talk with enthusiasm of its fertile soil and benignant climate. Where the ground was most depressed and marshy, the meadows were stretched out for the pasturage of cattle. In the level country, the rich arable lands, such as the Campanian and Capuan plains, extended in vast tracts, and produced a profusion of fruits of every species, while on the acclivities, where the skirts of the mountains began to break into little hills and sloping fields, the olive and vine basked on soils famed for Messapian oil, and for wines of which the very names cheer and revive us. The mountains themselves produced marble and timber, and poured from their sides many a delightful stream, which watered the fields, gladdened the pastures, and moistened the meads to the very brink of the shore. Well then might Virgil exclaim, in a burst of patriotism and poetry which has never been surpassed,—

“Sed neque Medorum sylvæ, ditissima terra,

Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hermus,

Laudibus Italiæ certent; non Bactra, neque Indi,

Totaque thuriferis Panchaia pinguis arenis.

Hic ver assiduum, atque alienis mensibus æstas;

Bis gravidæ pecudes, bis pomis utilis arbor.

* * * *

Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus[5]!”

One would not suppose that agricultural care was very consistent, at least in a small state, with frequent warfare. But in no period of their republic did the Romans neglect the advantages which the land they inhabited presented for husbandry. Romulus, who had received a rustic education, and had spent his youth in hunting, had no attachment to any peaceful arts, except to rural labours; and this feeling pervaded his legislation. His Sabine successor, Numa Pompilius, who well understood and discharged the duties of sovereignty, divided the whole territory of Rome into different cantons. An exact account was rendered to him of the manner in which these were cultivated; and he occasionally went in person to survey them, in order to encourage those farmers whose lands were well tilled, and to reproach others with their want of industry[6]. By the institution, too, of various religious festivals, connected with agriculture, it came to be regarded with a sort of sacred reverence. Ancus Martius, who trod in the [pg 8]steps of Numa, recommended to his people the assiduous cultivation of their lands. After the expulsion of the kings, an Agrarian law, by which only seven acres were allotted to each citizen, was promulgated, and for some time rigidly enforced. Exactness and economy in the various occupations of agriculture were the natural consequences of such regulations. Each Roman having only a small portion of land assigned to him, and the support of his family depending entirely on the produce which it yielded, its culture necessarily engaged his whole attention.

In these early ages of the Roman commonwealth, when the greatest men possessed but a few acres, the lands were laboured by the proprietors themselves. The introduction of commerce, and the consequent acquisition of wealth, had not yet enabled individuals to purchase the estates of their fellow-citizens, and to obtain a revenue from the rent of land rather than from its cultivation.

The patricians, who, in the city, were so distinct from the plebeian orders, were thus confounded with them in the country, in the common avocations of husbandry. After having presided over the civil affairs of the republic, or commanded its armies, the most distinguished citizens returned, without repining, to till the lands of their forefathers. Cincinnatus, who was found at labour in his fields by those who came to announce his election to the dictatorship, was not a singular example of the same hand which held the plough guiding also the helm of the state, and erecting the standard of its legions. So late as the time of the first Carthaginian war, Regulus, in the midst of his victorious career in Africa, asked leave from the senate to return to Italy, in order to cultivate his farm of seven acres, which had been neglected during his absence[7]. Many illustrious names among the Romans originated in agricultural employments, or some circumstances of rustic skill and labour, by which the founders of families were distinguished. The Fabii and Lentuli were supposed to have been celebrated for the culture of pulses, and the Asinii and Vitellii for the art of rearing animals. In the time of the elder Cato, though the manual operations were performed for the most part by servants, the great men resided chiefly on their farms[8]; and they continued to apply to the study and practice of agriculture long after they had carried the victorious arms of their country beyond the confines of Italy. They did not, indeed, follow agriculture as their sole avocation; but they prose[pg 9]cuted it during the intervals of peace, and in the vacations of the Forum. The art being thus exercised by men of high capacity, received the benefit of all the discoveries, inventions, or experiments suggested by talents and force of intellect. The Roman warriors tilled their fields with the same intelligence as they pitched their camps, and sowed corn with the same care with which they drew up their armies for battle. Hence, as a modern Latin poet observes, dilating on the expression of Pliny, the earth yielded such an exuberant return, that she seemed as it were to delight in being ploughed with a share adorned with laurels, and by a ploughman who had earned a triumph:—

“Hanc etiam, ut perhibent, sese formabat ad artem,

Cùm domito Fabius Dictator ab hoste redibat:

Non veritus, medio dederat qui jura Senatu,

Ferre idem arboribusque suis, terræque colendæ,

Victricesque manus ruri præstare serendo.

Ipsa triumphales tellus experta colonos,

Atque ducum manibus quondam versata suorum,

Majores fructus, majora arbusta ferebat[9].”

Nor were the Romans contented with merely labouring the ground: They also delivered precepts for its proper cultivation, which, being committed to writing, formed, as it were, a new science, and, being derived from actual experience, had an air of originality rarely exhibited in their literary productions. Such maxims were held by the Romans in high respect, since they were considered as founded on the observation of men who had displayed the most eminent capacity and knowledge in governing the state, in framing its laws, and leading its armies.

These precepts which formed the works of the agricultural writers—the Rusticæ rei scriptores—are extremely interesting and comprehensive. The Romans had a much greater variety than we, of grain, pulse, and roots; and, besides, had vines, olives, and other plantations, which were regarded as profitable crops. The situation, too, and construction of a villa, with the necessary accommodation for slaves and workmen, the wine and oil cellars, the granaries, the repositories for preserving fruit, the poultry yard, and aviaries, form topics of much attention and detail. These were the appertenancies of the villa rustica, or complete farm-house, which was built for the residence only of an industrious husbandman, and with a view towards profit from the employments of agriculture. As luxury, indeed, increased, the villa was adapted to the [pg 10]accommodation of an opulent Roman citizen, and the country was resorted to rather for recreation than for the purpose of lucrative toil. What would Cato the Censor, distinguished for his industry and unceasing attention to the labours of the field, have thought of the following lines of Horace?

“O rus, quando ego te aspiciam? quandoque licebit

Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno et inertibus horis,

Ducere sollicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ?”

It was this more refined relish for the country, so keenly enjoyed by the Romans in the luxurious ages of the state, that furnished the subject for the finest passages and allusions in the works of the Latin poets, who seem to vie with each other in their praises of a country life, and the sweetness of the numbers in which they celebrate its simple and tranquil enjoyments. The Epode of Horace, commencing,

“Beatus ille, qui procul negotiis,”

which paints the charms of rural existence, in the various seasons of the year—the well-known passages in Virgil’s Georgics, and those in the second book of Lucretius, are the most exquisite and lovely productions of these triumvirs of Roman poetry. But the ancient prose writers, with whom we are now to be engaged, regarded agriculture rather as an art than an amusement, and a country life as subservient to profitable employment, and not to elegant recreation. In themselves, however, these compositions are highly curious; they are curious, too, as forming a commentary and illustration of the subjects,

“Quas et facundi tractavit Musa Maronis.”

It is likewise interesting to compare them with the works of the modern Italians on husbandry, as the Liber Ruralium Commodorum of Crescenzio, written about the end of the thirteenth century,—the Coltivazione Toscana of Davanzati,—Vittorio’s treatise, Degli Ulivi,—and even Alamanni’s poem Coltivazione, which closely follows, particularly as to the situation and construction of a villa, the precepts of Cato, Varro, and Columella. The plough used at this day by the peasantry in the Campagna di Roma, is of the same form as that of the ancient Latian husbandmen[10]; and many other points of resemblance may be discovered, on a perusal of the [pg 11]most recent writers on the subject of Italian cultivation[11]. Dickson, too, who, in his Husbandry of the Ancients, gives an account of Roman agriculture so far as connected with the labours of the British farmer, has shown, that, in spite of the great difference of soil and climate, many maxims of the old Roman husbandmen, as delivered by Cato and Varro, corresponded with the agricultural system followed in his day in England.

Of the distinguished Roman citizens who practised agriculture, none were more eminent than Cato and Varro; and by them the precepts of the art were also committed to writing. Their works are original compositions, founded on experience, and not on Grecian models, like so many other Latin productions. Varro, indeed, enumerates about fifty Greek authors, who, previous to his time, had written on the subject of agriculture; and Mago, the Carthaginian, composed, in the Punic language, a much-approved treatise on the same topic, in thirty-two books, which was afterwards translated into Latin by desire of the senate. But the early Greek works, with the exception of Xenophon’s Œconomics and the poem of Hesiod called Works and Days, have been entirely lost; the tracts published in the collection entitled Geoponica, being subsequent to the age of Varro.

MARCUS PORCIUS CATO,

better known by the name of Cato the Censor, wrote the earliest book on husbandry which we possess in the Latin language. This distinguished citizen was born in the 519th year of Rome. Like other Romans of his day, he was brought up to the profession of arms. In the short intervals of peace he resided, during his youth, at a small country-house in the Sabine territory, which he had inherited from his father. Near it there stood a cottage belonging to Manius Curius Dentatus, who had repeatedly triumphed over the Sabines and Samnites, and had at length driven Pyrrhus from Italy. Cato was accustomed frequently to walk over to the humble abode of this renowned commander, where he was struck with admiration at the frugality of its owner, and the skilful management of the farm which was attached to it. Hence it became his great object to emulate his illustrious neighbour, and adopt him as his model[12]. Having made an estimate of his house, lands, slaves, [pg 12]and expenses, he applied himself to husbandry with new ardour, and retrenched all superfluity. In the morning he went to the small towns in the vicinity, to plead and defend the causes of those who applied to him for assistance. Thence he returned to his fields; where, with a plain cloak over his shoulders in winter, and almost naked in summer, he laboured with his servants till they had concluded their tasks, after which he sat down along with them at table, eating the same bread, and drinking the same wine[13]. At a more advanced period of life, the wars, in which he commanded, kept him frequently at a distance from Italy, and his forensic avocations detained him much in the city; but what time he could spare was still spent at the Sabine farm, where he continued to employ himself in the profitable cultivation of the land. He thus became by the universal consent of his contemporaries, the best farmer of his age, and was held unrivalled for the skill and success of his agricultural operations[14]. Though everywhere a rigid economist, he lived, it is said, more hospitably at his farm than in the city. His entertainments at his villa were at first but sparing, and seldom given; but as his wealth increased, he became more nice and delicate. “At first,” says Plutarch, “when he was but a poor soldier, he was not difficult in anything which related to his diet; but afterwards, when he grew richer, and made feasts for his friends, presently, when supper was done, he seized a leathern thong, and scourged those who had not given due attendance, or dressed anything carelessly[15].” Towards the close of his life, he almost daily invited some of his friends in the neighbourhood to sup with him; and the conversation at these meals turned not chiefly, as might have been expected, on rural affairs, but on the praises of great and excellent men among the Romans[16].

It may be supposed, that in the evenings after the agricultural labours of the morning, and after his friends had left him, he noted down the precepts suggested by the observations and experience of the day. That he wrote such maxims for his own use, or the instruction of others, is unquestionable; but the treatise De Re Rustica, which now bears his name, appears to have been much mutilated, since Pliny and other writers allude to subjects as treated of by Cato, and to opinions as delivered by him in this book, which are nowhere to be found in any part of the work now extant.

In its present state, it is merely the loose unconnected journal of a plain farmer, expressed with rude, sometimes with [pg 13]almost oracular brevity; and it wants all those elegant topics of embellishment and illustration which the subject might have so naturally suggested. It solely consists of the dryest rules of agriculture, and some receipts for making various kinds of cakes and wines. Servius says, it is addressed to the author’s son; but there is no such address now extant. It begins rather abruptly, and in a manner extremely characteristic of the simple manners of the author: “It would be advantageous to seek profit from commerce, if that were not hazardous; or by usury, if that were honest: but our ancestors ordained, that the thief should forfeit double the sum he had stolen, and the usurer quadruple what he had taken, whence it may be concluded, that they thought the usurer the worst of the two. When they wished highly to praise a good man, they called him a good farmer. A merchant is zealous in pushing his fortune, but his trade is perilous and liable to reverses. But farmers make the bravest men, and the stoutest soldiers. Their gain is the most honest, the most stable, and least exposed to envy. Those who exercise the art of agriculture, are of all others least addicted to evil thoughts.”

Our author then proceeds to his rules, many of which are sufficiently obvious. Thus, he advises, that when one is about to purchase a farm, he should examine if the climate, soil, and exposure be good: he should see that it can be easily supplied with plenty of water,—that it lies in the neighbourhood of a town,—and near a navigable river, or the sea. The directions for ascertaining the quality of the land are not quite so clear or self-evident. He recommends the choice of a farm where there are few implements of labour, as this shews the soil to be easily cultivated; and where there are, on the other hand, a number of casks and vessels, which testify an abundant produce. With regard to the best way of laying out a farm when it is purchased, supposing it to be one of a hundred acres, the most profitable thing is a vineyard; next, a garden, that can be watered; then a willow grove; 4th, an olive plantation; 5th, meadow-ground; 6th, corn fields; and, lastly, forest trees and brushwood. Varro cites this passage, but he gives the preference to meadows: These required little expense; and, by his time, the culture of vines had so much increased in Italy, and such a quantity of foreign wine was imported, that vineyards had become less valuable than in the days of the Censor. Columella, however, agrees with Cato: He successively compares the profits accruing from meadows, pasture, trees, and corn, with those of vineyards; and, on an estimate, prefers the last.

When a farm has been purchased, the new proprietor should [pg 14]perambulate the fields the day he arrives, or, if he cannot do so, on the day after, for the purpose of seeing what has been done, and what remains to be accomplished. Rules are given for the most assiduous employment without doors, and the most rigid economy within. When a servant is sick he will require less food. All the old oxen and the cattle of delicate frame, the old wagons, and old implements of husbandry, are to be sold off. The sordid parsimony of the Censor leads him to direct, that a provident paterfamilias should sell such of his slaves as are aged and infirm; a recommendation which has drawn down on him the well-merited indignation of Plutarch[17]. These are some of the duties of the master; and there follows a curious detail of the qualifications and duties of the villicus, or overseer, who, in particular, is prohibited from the exercise of religious rites, and consultation of augurs.

It is probable that, in the time of Cato, the Romans had begun to extend their villas considerably, which makes him warn proprietors of land not to be rash in building. When a landlord is thirty-six years of age he may build, provided his fields have been brought into a proper state of cultivation. His direction with regard to the extent of the villa is concise, but seems a very proper one;—he advises, to build in such a manner that the villa may not need a farm, nor the farm a villa. Lucullus and Scævola both violated this golden rule, as we learn from Pliny; who adds, that it will be readily conjectured, from their respective characters, that it was the farm of Scævola which stood in need of the villa, and the villa of Lucullus which required the farm.

A vast variety of crops was cultivated by the Romans, and the different kinds were adapted by them, with great care, to the different soils. Cato is very particular in his injunctions on this subject. A field that is of a rich and genial soil should be sown with corn; but, if wet or moist, with turnips and raddish. Figs are to be planted in chalky land; and willows in watery situations, in order to serve as twigs for tying the vines. This being the proper mode of laying out a farm, our author gives a detail of the establishment necessary to keep it up;—the number of workmen, the implements of husbandry, and the farm-offices, with the materials necessary for their construction.

He next treats of the management of vineyards and olives; the proper mode of planting, grafting, propping, and fencing: And he is here naturally led to furnish directions for making and preserving the different sorts of wine and oil; as also to [pg 15]specify how much of each is to be allowed to the servants of the family.

In discoursing of the cultivation of fields for corn, Cato enjoins the farmer to collect all sorts of weeds for manure. Pigeons’ dung he prefers to that of every animal. He gives orders for burning lime, and for making charcoal and ashes from the branches or twigs of trees. The Romans seem to have been at great pains in draining their fields; and Cato directs the formation both of open and covered drains. Oxen being employed in ploughing the fields, instructions are added for feeding and taking due care of them. The Roman plough has been a subject of much discussion: Two sorts are mentioned by Cato, which he calls Romanicum, and Campanicum—the first being proper for a stiff, and the other for a light soil. Dickson conjectures, that the Romanicum had an iron Share, and the Campanicum a piece of timber, like the Scotch plough, and a sock driven upon it. The plough, with other agricultural implements, as the crates, rastrum, ligo, and sarculum, most of which are mentioned by Cato, form a curious point of Roman antiquities.

The preservation of corn, after it has been reaped, is a subject of much importance, to which Cato has paid particular attention. This was a matter of considerable difficulty in Italy, in the time of the Romans; and all their agricultural writers are extremely minute in their directions for preserving it from rot, and from the depredations of insects, by which it was frequently consumed.

A great part of the work of Cato is more appropriate to the housewife than the farmer. We have receipts for making all sorts of cakes and puddings, fattening hens and geese, preserving figs during winter; as also medical prescriptions for the cure of various diseases, both of man and beast. Mala punica, or pomegranates, are the chief ingredient, in his remedies, for Diarrhœa, Dyspepsia, and Stranguary. Sometimes, however, his cures for diseases are not medical recipes, but sacrifices, atonements, or charms. The prime of all is his remedy for a luxation or fracture.—“Take,” says he, “a green reed, and slit it along the middle—throw the knife upwards, and join the two parts of the reed again, and tie it so to the place broken or disjointed, and say this charm—‘Daries, Dardaries, Astataries, Dissunapiter.’ Or this—‘Huat, Hanat, Huat, Ista, Pista, Fista, Domiabo, Damnaustra.’ This will make the part sound again[18].”

The most remarkable feature in the work of Cato, is its [pg 16]total want of arrangement. It is divided, indeed, into chapters, but the author, apparently, had never taken the trouble of reducing his precepts to any sort of method, or of following any general plan. The hundred and sixty-two chapters, of which his work consists, seem so many rules committed to writing, as the daily labours of the field suggested. He gives directions about the vineyard, then goes to his corn-fields, and returns again to the vineyard. His treatise was, therefore, evidently not intended as a regular or well-composed book, but merely as a journal of incidental observations. That this was its utmost pretensions, is farther evinced by the brevity of the precepts, and deficiency of all illustration or embellishment. Of the style, he of course would be little careful, as his Memoranda were intended for the use only of his family and slaves. It is therefore always simple,—sometimes even rude; but it is not ill adapted to the subject, and suits our notion of the severe manners of its author, and character of the ancient Romans.

Besides this book on agriculture, Cato left behind him various works, which have almost entirely perished. He left a hundred and fifty orations[19], which were existing in the time of Cicero, though almost entirely neglected, and a book on military discipline[20], both of which, if now extant, would be highly interesting, as proceeding from one who was equally distinguished in the camp and forum. A good many of his orations were in dissuasion or favour of particular laws and measures of state, as those entitled—“Ne quis iterum Consul fiat—De bello Carthaginiensi,” of which war he was a vehement promoter—“Suasio in Legem Voconiam,—Pro Lege Oppia,” &c. Nearly a third part of these orations were pronounced in his own defence. He had been about fifty times accused[21], and as often acquitted. When charged with a capital crime, in the 85th year of his age, he pleaded his own cause, and betrayed no failure in memory, no decline of vigour, and no faltering of voice[22]. By his readiness, and pertinacity, and bitterness, he completely wore out his adversaries[23], and earned the reputation of being, if not the most eloquent, at least the most stubborn speaker among the Romans.

Cato’s oration in favour of the Oppian law, which was a sumptuary restriction on the expensive dresses of the Roman [pg 17]matrons, is given by Livy[24]. It was delivered in opposition to the tribune Valerius, who proposed its abrogation, and affords us some notion of his style and manner, since, if not copied by the historian from his book of orations, it was doubtless adapted by him to the character of Cato, and his mode of speaking. Aulus Gellius cites, as equally distinguished for its eloquence and energy, a passage in his speech on the division of spoil among the soldiery, in which he complains of their unpunished peculation and licentiousness. One of his most celebrated harangues was that in favour of the Rhodians, the ancient allies of the Roman people, who had fallen under the suspicion of affording aid to Perseus, during the second Macedonian war. The oration was delivered after the overthrow of that monarch, when the Rhodian envoys were introduced into the Senate, in order to explain the conduct of their countrymen, and to deprecate the vengeance of the Romans, by throwing the odium of their apparent hostility on the turbulence of a few factious individuals. It was pronounced in answer to those Senators, who, after hearing the supplications of the Rhodians, were for declaring war against them; and it turned chiefly on the ancient, long-tried fidelity of that people,—taking particular advantage of the circumstance, that the assistance rendered to Perseus had not been a national act, proceeding from a public decree of the people. Tiro, the freedman of Cicero, wrote a long and elaborate criticism on this oration. To the numerous censures it contains, Aulus Gellius has replied at considerable length, and has blamed Tiro for singling out from a speech so rich, and so happily connected, small and insulated portions, as objects of his reprehensive satire. All the various topics, he adds, which are enlarged on in this oration, if they could have been introduced with more perspicuity, method, and harmony, could not have been delivered with more energy and strength[25].

Both Cicero and Livy have expressed themselves very fully on the subject of Cato’s orations. The former admits, that his “language is antiquated, and some of his phrases harsh and inelegant: but only change that,” he continues, “which it was not in his power to change—add number and cadence—give an easier turn to his sentences—and regulate the structure and connection of his words, (an art which was as little practised by the older Greeks as by him,) and you will find no one who can claim the preference to Cato. The Greeks themselves acknowledge, that the chief beauty of composition results from the frequent use of those forms of expression, [pg 18]which they call tropes, and of those varieties of language and sentiment, which they call figures; but it is almost incredible with what copiousness, and with what variety, they are all employed by Cato[26].” Livy principally speaks of the facility, asperity, and freedom of his tongue[27]. Aulus Gellius has instituted a comparison of Caius Gracchus, Cato, and Cicero, in passages where these three orators declaimed against the same species of atrocity—the illegal scourging of Roman citizens; and Gellius, though he admits that Cato had not reached the splendour, harmony, and pathos of Cicero, considers him as far superior in force and copiousness to Gracchus[28].

Of the book on Military Discipline, a good deal has been incorporated into the work of Vegetius; and Cicero’s orations may console us for the want of those of Cato. But the loss of the seven books, De Originibus, which he commenced in his vigorous old age, and finished just before his death, must ever be deeply deplored by the historian and antiquary. Cato is said to have begun to inquire into the history, antiquities, and language of the Roman people, with a view to counteract the influence of the Greek taste, introduced by the Scipios; and in order to take from the Greeks the honour of having colonized Italy, he attempted to discover on the Latin soil the traces of ancient national manners, and an indigenous civilization. The first book of the valuable work De Originibus, as we are informed by Cornelius Nepos, in his short life of Cato, contained the exploits of the kings of Rome. Cato was the first author who attempted to fix the era of the foundation of Rome, which he calculated in his Origines, and determined it to have been in the first year of the 7th Olympiad. In order to discover this epoch, he had recourse to the memoirs of the Censors, in which it was noted, that the taking of Rome by the Gauls, was 119 years after the expulsion of the kings. By adding this period to the aggregate duration of the reigns of the kings, he found that the amount answered to the first of the 7th Olympiad. This is the computation followed by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in his great work on Roman antiquities. It is probably as near the truth as we can hope to arrive; but even in the time of Cato, the calculated duration of the reigns of the kings was not founded on any ancient monuments then extant, or on the testimony of any credible historian. The second and third books treated of the origin of the different states of Italy, whence the whole work has received the name of Origines. The fourth and [pg 19]fifth books comprehended the history of the first and second Punic wars; and in the two remaining books, the author discussed the other campaigns of the Romans till the time of Ser. Galba, who overthrew the Lusitanians.

In his account of these later contests, Cato merely related the facts, without mentioning the names of the generals or leaders; but though he has omitted this, Pliny informs us that he did not forget to take notice, that the elephant which fought most stoutly in the Carthaginian army was called Surus, and wanted one of his teeth[29]. In this same work he incidentally treated of all the wonderful and admirable things which existed in Spain and Italy. Some of his orations, too, as we learn from Livy, were incorporated into it, as that for giving freedom to the Lusitanian hostages; and Plutarch farther mentions, that he omitted no opportunity of praising himself, and extolling his services to the state. The work, however, exhibited great industry and learning, and, had it descended to us, would unquestionably have thrown much light on the early periods of Roman history and the antiquities of the different states of Italy. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, himself a sedulous inquirer into antiquities, bears ample testimony to the research and accuracy of that part which treats of the origin of the ancient Italian cities. The author lived at a time which was favourable to this investigation. Though the Samnites, Etruscans, and Sabines, had been deprived of their independence, they had not lost their monuments or records of their history, their individuality and national manners. Cicero praises the simple and concise style of the Origines, and laments that the work was neglected in his day, in consequence of the inflated manner of writing which had been recently adopted; in the same manner as the tumid and ornamented periods of Theopompus had lessened the esteem for the concise and unadorned narrative of Thucydides, or as the lofty eloquence of Demosthenes impaired the relish for the extreme attic simplicity of Lysias[30].

In the same part of the dialogue, entitled Brutus, Cicero asks what flower or light of eloquence is wanting to the Origines—“Quem florem, aut quod lumen eloquentiæ non habent?” But on Atticus considering the praise thus bestowed as excessive, he limits it, by adding, that nothing was required to complete the strokes of the author’s pencil but a certain lively glow of colours, which had not been discovered in his age.—“Intelliges, nihil illius lineamentis, nisi eorum pigmentorum, quæ inventa nondum erant, florem et calorem defuisse[31].”

The pretended fragments of the Origines, published by the Dominican, Nanni, better known by the name of Annius Viterbiensis, and inserted in his Antiquitates Variæ, printed at Rome in 1498, are spurious, and the imposition was detected soon after their appearance. The few remains first collected by Riccobonus, and published at the end of his Treatise on History, (Basil, 1579,) are believed to be genuine. They have been enlarged by Ausonius Popma, and added by him, with notes, to the other writings of Cato, published at Leyden in 1590.

Any rudeness of style and language which appears either in the orations of Cato, or in his agricultural and historical works, cannot be attributed to total carelessness or neglect of the graces of composition, as he was the first person in Rome who treated of oratory as an art[32], in a tract entitled De Oratore ad Filium.

Cato was also the first of his countrymen who wrote on the subject of medicine[33]. Rome had existed for 500 years without professional physicians[34]. A people who as yet were strangers to luxury, and consisted of farmers and soldiers, (though surgical operations might be frequently necessary,) would be exempt from the inroads of the “grisly troop,” so much encouraged by indolence and debauchery. Like all semi-barbarous people, they believed that maladies were to be cured by the special interposition of superior beings, and that religious ceremonies were more efficacious for the recovery of health than remedies of medical skill. Deriving, as they did, much of their worship from the Etruscans, they probably derived from them also the practice of attempting to overcome disease by magic and incantation. The Augurs and Aruspices were thus the most ancient physicians of Rome. In epidemic distempers the Sibylline books were consulted, and the cures they prescribed were superstitious ceremonies. We have seen that it was to free the city from an attack of this sort that scenic representations were first introduced at Rome. During the progress of another epidemic infliction a temple was built to Apollo[35]; and as each periodic pestilence naturally abated in course of time, faith was confirmed in the efficacy of the rites which were resorted to. Every one has heard of the pomp wherewith Esculapius was transported under the form of a serpent, from Epidaurus to an islet in the Tiber, which was thereafter consecrated to that divine physician. The apprehension of diseases raised temples to Febris and Tussis, and [pg 21]other imaginary beings belonging to the painful family of death in order to avert the disorders which they were supposed to inflict. It was perceived, however, that religious professions and lustrations and lectisterniums were ineffectual for the cure of those complaints, which, in the 6th century, luxury began to exasperate and render more frequent at Rome. At length, in 534, Archagatus, a free-born Greek, arrived in Italy, where he practised medicine professionally as an art, and received in return for his cures the endearing appellation of Carnifex[36]. But though Archagatus was the first who practised medicine, Cato was the first who wrote of diseases and their treatment as a science, in his work entitled Commentarius quo Medetur Filio, Servis, Familiaribus. In this book of domestic medicine—duck, pigeons, and hare, were the foods he chiefly recommended to the sick[37]. His remedies were principally extracted from herbs; and colewort, or cabbage, was his favourite cure[38]. The recipes, indeed, contained in his work on agriculture, show that his medical knowledge did not exceed that which usually exists among a semi-barbarous race, and only extended to the most ordinary simples which nature affords. Cato hated the compound drugs introduced by the Greek physicians—considering these foreign professors of medicine as the opponents of his own system. Such, indeed, was his antipathy, that he believed, or pretended to believe, that they had entered into a league to poison all the barbarians, among whom they classed the Romans.—“Jurarunt inter se,” says he, in a passage preserved by Pliny, “barbaros necare omnes medicina: Et hoc ipsum mercede faciunt, ut fides iis sit, et facile disperdant[39].” Cato, finding that the patients lived notwithstanding this detestable conspiracy, began to regard the Greek practitioners as impious sorcerers, who counteracted the course of nature, and restored dying men to life, by means of unholy charms; and he therefore advised his countrymen to remain stedfast, not only by their ancient Roman principles and manners, but also by the venerable unguents and salubrious balsams which had come down to them from the wisdom of their grandmothers. Such as they were, Cato’s old medical saws continued long in repute at Rome. It is evident that they were still esteemed in the time of Pliny, who expresses the same fears as the Censor, lest hot baths and potions should render his countrymen effeminate, and corrupt their manners[40].

Every one knows what was the consequence of Cato’s dislike to the Greek philosophers, who were expelled from the city by a decree of the senate. But it does not seem certain what became of Archagatus and his followers. The author of the Diogene Moderne, as cited by Tiraboschi, says that Archagatus was stoned to death[41], but the literary historian who quotes him doubts of his having any sufficient authority for the assertion. Whether the physicians were comprehended in the general sentence of banishment pronounced on the learned Greeks, or were excepted from it, has been the subject of a great literary controversy in modern Italy and in France[42].

Aulus Gellius[43] mentions Cato’s Libri quæstionum Epistolicarum, and Cicero his Apophthegmata[44], which was probably the first example of that class of works which, under the appellation of Ana, became so fashionable and prevalent in France.

The only other work of Cato which I shall mention, is the Carmen de Moribus. This, however, was not written in verse, as might be supposed from the title. Precepts, imprecations, and prayers, or any set formulæ whatever, were called Carmina. I do not know what maxims were inculcated in this carmen, but they probably were not of very rigid morality, at least if we may judge from the “Sententia Dia Catonis,” mentioned by Horace:

“Quidam notus homo cùm exiret fornice, Macte

Virtute esto, inquit sententia dia Catonis[45].”

Misled by the title, some critics have erroneously assigned to the Censor the Disticha de Moribus, now generally attributed to Dionysius Cato, who lived, according to Scaliger in the age of Commodus and Septimius Severus[46].

The work of

MARCUS TERENTIUS VARRO,

On agriculture, has descended to us more entire than that of Cato on the same subject; yet it does not appear to be complete. In the early times of the republic, the Romans, like the ancient Greeks, being constantly menaced with the incursions of enemies, indulged little in the luxury of expensive and ornamental villas. Even that of Scipio Africanus, the rival and contemporary of Cato the Censor, and who in many other respects anticipated the refinements of a later age, was of the simplest structure. It was situated at Liternum, (now Patria,) a few miles north from Cumæ, and was standing in the time of Seneca. This philosopher paid a visit to a friend who resided in it during the age of Nero, and he afterwards described it in one of his epistles with many expressions of wonder and admiration at the frugality of the great Africanus[47]. When, however, the scourge of war was removed from their immediate vicinity, agriculture and gardening were no longer exercised by the Romans as in the days of the Censor, when great crops of grain were raised for profit, and fields of onions sown for the subsistence of the labouring servants. The patricians now became fond of ornamental gardens, fountains, terraces, artificial wildernesses, and grottos, groves of laurel for shelter in winter, and oriental planes for shade in summer. Matters, in short, were fast approaching to the state described in one of the odes of Horace—

“Jam pauca aratro jugera regiæ,

Moles relinquent: undique latius

Extenta visentur Lucrino

Stagna lacu: platanusque cœlebs

Evincet ulmos: tum violaria, et

Myrtus, et omnis copia narium,

Spargent olivetis odorem

Fertilibus domino priori.

Tum spissa ramis laurea fervidos

Excludet ictus. Non ita Romuli

Præscriptum, et intonsi Catonis

Auspiciis, veterumque norma[48].”

Agriculture, however, still continued to be so respectable an employment, that its practice was not considered unworthy the friend of Cicero and Pompey, nor its precepts undeserving to be delivered by one who was indisputably the first scholar of his age—who was renowned for his profound erudition and thorough insight into the laws, the literature, and antiquities of his country,—and who has been hailed by Petrarch as the third great luminary of Rome, being only inferior in lustre to Cicero and Virgil:—

“Qui’ vid’ io nostra gente aver per duce

Varrone, il terzo gran lume Romano,

Che quanto ’l miro più, tanto più luce[49].”

Varro was born in the 637th year of Rome, and was descended of an ancient senatorial family. It is probable that his youth, and even the greater part of his manhood, were spent in literary pursuits, and in the acquisition of that stupendous knowledge, which has procured to him the appellation of the most learned of the Romans, since his name does not appear in the civil or military history of his country, till the year 680, when he was Consul along with Cassius Varus. In 686, he served under Pompey, in his war against the pirates, in which he commanded the Greek ships[50]. To the fortunes of that Chief he continued firmly attached, and was appointed one of his lieutenants in Spain, along with Afranius and Petreius, at the commencement of the war with Cæsar. Hispania Ulterior was specially confided to his protection, and two legions were placed under his command. After the surrender of his colleagues in Hither Spain, Cæsar proceeded in person against him. Varro appears to have been little qualified to cope with such an adversary. One of the legions deserted in his own sight, and his retreat to Cadiz, where he had meant to retire, [pg 25]having been cut off, he surrendered at discretion, with the other, in the vicinity of Cordova[51]. From that period he despaired of the salvation of the republic, or found, at least, that he was not capable of saving it; for although, after receiving his freedom from Cæsar, he proceeded to Dyracchium, to give Pompey a detail of the disasters which had occurred, he left it almost immediately for Rome. On his return to Italy he withdrew from all political concerns, and indulged himself during the remainder of his life in the enjoyment of literary leisure. The only service he performed for Cæsar, was that of arranging the books which the Dictator had himself procured, or which had been acquired by those who preceded him in the management of public affairs[52]. He lived during the reign of Cæsar in habits of the closest intimacy with Cicero; and his feelings, as well as conduct, at this period, resembled those of his illustrious friend, who, in all his letters to Varro, bewails, with great freedom, the utter ruin of the state, and proposes that they should live together, engaged only in those studies which were formerly their amusement, but were then their chief support. “And, should none require our services for repairing the ruins of the republic, let us employ our time and thoughts on moral and political inquiries. If we cannot benefit the commonwealth in the forum or the senate, let us endeavour, at least, to do so by our studies and writings; and, after the example of the most learned among the ancients, contribute to the welfare of our country, by useful disquisitions concerning laws and government.” Some farther notion of the manner in which Varro spent his time during this period may be derived from another letter of Cicero, written in June, 707. “Nothing,” says he, “raises your character higher in my esteem, than that you have wisely retreated into harbour—that you are enjoying the happy fruits of a learned leisure, and employed in pursuits, which are attended with more public advantage, as well as private satisfaction, than all the ambitious exploits, or voluptuous indulgences, of these licentious victors. The contemplative hours you spend at your Tusculan villa, are, in my estimation, indeed, what alone deserves to be called life[53].”

Varro passed the greatest portion of his time in the various villas which he possessed in Italy. One of these was at Tusculum, and another in the neighbourhood of Cumæ. The latter place had been among the earliest Greek establishments in Italy, and was long regarded as pre-eminent in power and [pg 26]population. It spread prosperity over the adjacent coasts; and its oracle, Sibyl, and temple, long attracted votaries and visitants. As the Roman power increased, that of Cumæ decayed; and its opulence had greatly declined before the time of Varro. Its immediate vicinity was not even frequently selected as a situation for villas. The Romans had a well-founded partiality for the coasts of Puteoli, and Naples, so superior in beauty and salubrity to the flat, marshy neighbourhood of Cumæ. The situation of Varro’s other villa, at Tusculum, must have been infinitely more agreeable, from its pure air, and the commanding prospect it enjoyed.

Besides immense flocks of sheep in Apulia, and many horses in the Sabine district of Reate[54], Varro had considerable farms both at his Cuman and Tusculan villas, the cultivation of which, no doubt, formed an agreeable relaxation from his severe and sedentary studies. He had also a farm at a third villa, where he occasionally resided, near the town of Casinum, in the territory of the ancient Volsci[55], and situated on the banks of the Cassinus, a tributary stream to the Liris. This stream, which was fifty-seven feet broad, and both deep and clear, with a pebbly channel, flowed through the middle of his delightful domains. A bridge, which crossed the river from the house, led directly to an island, which was a little farther down, at the confluence of the Cassinus with a rivulet called the Vinius[56]. Along the banks of the larger water there were spacious pleasure-walks which conducted to the farm; and near the place where they joined the fields, there was an extensive aviary[57]. The site of Varro’s villa was visited by Sir R. C. Hoare, who says, that it stood close to Casinum, now St Germano: Some trifling remains still indicate its site; but its memory, he adds, will shortly survive only in the page of the historian[58].

After the assassination of Cæsar, this residence, along with almost all the wealth of Varro, which was immense, was forcibly seized by Marc Antony[59]. Its lawless occupation by that profligate and blood-thirsty triumvir, on his return from his dissolute expedition to Capua, is introduced by Cicero into one of his Philippics, and forms a topic of the most eloquent and bitter invective. The contrast which the orator draws between the character of Varro and that of Antony—between the noble and peaceful studies prosecuted in that delightful residence by the rightful proprietor, and the shameful debau[pg 27]cheries of the wretch by whom it had been usurped, forms a picture, to which it would be difficult to find a parallel in ancient or modern oratory.—“How many days did you shamefully revel, Antony, in that villa? From the third hour, it was one continued scene of drinking, gambling, and uproar. The very roofs were to be pitied. O, what a change of masters! But how can he be called its master? And, if master—gods! how unlike to him he had dispossessed! Marcus Varro made his house the abode of the muses, and a retreat for study—not a haunt for midnight debauchery. Whilst he was there, what were the subjects discussed—what the topics debated in that delightful residence? I will answer the question—The rights and liberties of the Roman people—the memorials of our ancestors—the wisdom resulting from reason combined with knowledge. But whilst you, Antony, was its occupant, (for you cannot be called its master,) every room rung with the cry of drunkenness—the pavements were swimming with wine, and the walls wet with riot.”

Antony was not a person to be satisfied with robbing Varro of his property. At the formation of the memorable triumvirate, the name of Varro appeared in the list of the proscribed, among those other friends of Pompey whom the clemency of Cæsar had spared. This illustrious and blameless individual had now passed the age of seventy; and nothing can afford a more frightful proof of the sanguinary spirit which guided the councils of the triumvirs, than their devoting to the dagger of the hired assassin a man equally venerable by his years and character, and who ought to have been protected, if not by his learned labours, at least by his retirement, from such inhuman persecution. But, though doomed to death as a friend of law and liberty, his friends contended with each other for the dangerous honour of saving him. Calenus having obtained the preference, carried him to his country-house, where Antony frequently came, without suspecting that it contained a proscribed inmate. Here Varro remained concealed till a special edict was issued by the consul, M. Plancus, under the triumviral seal, excepting him and Messala Corvinus from the general slaughter[60].

But though Varro thus passed in security the hour of danger, he was unable to save his library, which was placed in the garden of one of his villas, and fell into the hands of an illiterate soldiery.

After the battle of Actium, Varro resided in tranquillity at Rome till his decease, which happened in 727, when he was [pg 28]ninety years of age. The tragical deaths, however, of Pompey and Cicero, with the loss of others of his friends,—the ruin of his country,—the expulsion from his villas,—and the loss of those literary treasures, which he had stored up as the solace of his old age, and the want of which would be doubly felt by one who wished to devote all his time to study,—must have cast a deep shade over the concluding days of this illustrious scholar. His wealth was restored by Augustus, but his books could not be supplied.

It is not improbable, that the dispersion of this library, which impeded the prosecution of his studies, and prevented the composition of such works as required reference and consultation, may have induced Varro to employ the remaining hours of his life in delivering those precepts of agriculture, which had been the result of long experience, and which needed only reminiscence to inculcate. It was some time after the loss of his books, and when he had nearly reached the age of eighty, that Varro composed the work on husbandry, as he himself testifies in the introduction. “If I had leisure, I might write these things more conveniently, which I will now explain as well as I am able, thinking that I must make haste; because, if a man be a bubble of air, much more so is an old man, for now my eightieth year admonishes me to get my baggage together before I leave the world. Wherefore, as you have bought a farm, which you are desirous to render profitable by tillage, and as you ask me to take this task upon me, I will try to advise you what must be done, not only during my stay here, but after my departure.” The remainder of the introduction forms, in its ostentatious display of erudition, a remarkable contrast to Cato’s simplicity. Varro talks of the Syrens and Sibyls,—invokes all the Roman deities, supposed to preside over rural affairs,—and enumerates all the Greek authors who had written on the subject of agriculture previous to his own time.

The first of the three books which this agricultural treatise comprehends, is addressed, by Varro, to Fundanius, who had recently purchased a farm, in the management of which he wished to be instructed. The information which Varro undertakes to give, is communicated in the form of dialogue. He feigns that, at the time appointed for rites to be performed in the sowing season, (sementivis feriis,) he went, by invitation of the priest, to the temple of Tellus. There he met his father-in-law, C. Fundanius, the knight Agrius, and Agrasius, a farmer of imposts, who were gazing on a map of Italy, painted on the inner walls of the temple. The priest, whose duty it was to officiate, having been summoned by the ædile [pg 29]to attend him on affairs of importance, they were awaiting his return; and, in order to pass the time till his arrival, Agrasius commences a conversation, (suggested by the map of Italy,) by inquiring at the others present in the temple, whether they, who had travelled so much, had ever visited any country better cultivated than Italy. This introduces an eulogy on the soil and climate of that favoured region, and of its various abundant productions,—the Apulian wheat, the Venafrian olive, and the Falernian grape. All this, again, leads to the inquiry, by what arts of agricultural skill and industry, aiding the luxuriant soil, it had reached such unexampled fecundity. These questions are referred to Licinius Stolo, and Tremellius Scrofa, who now joined the party, and who were well qualified to throw light on the interesting discussion—the first being of a family distinguished by the pains it had taken with regard to the Agrarian laws, and the second being well known for possessing one of the best cultivated farms in Italy. Scrofa, too, had himself written on husbandry, as we learn from Columella; who says, that he had first rendered agriculture eloquent. This first book of Varro is accordingly devoted to rules for the cultivation of land, whether for the production of grain, pulse, olives, or vines, and the establishment necessary for a well-managed and lucrative farm; excluding from consideration what is strictly the business of the grazier and shepherd, rather than of the farmer.

After some general observations on the object and end of agriculture, and the exposition of some general principles with regard to soil and climate, Scrofa and Stolo, who are the chief prolocutors, proceed to settle the size, as also the situation of the villa. They recommend that it should be placed at the foot of a well-wooded hill, and open to the most healthful breeze. An eastern exposure seems to be preferred, as it will thus have shade in summer, and sun in winter. They farther advise, that it should not be placed in a hollow valley, as being there subject to storms and inundations; nor in front of a river, as that situation is cold in winter, and unwholesome in summer; nor in the vicinity of a marsh, where it would be liable to be infested with small insects, which, though invisible, enter the body by the mouth or nostrils, and occasion obstinate diseases. Fundanius asks, what one ought to do who happens to inherit such a villa; and is answered, that he should sell it for whatever sum it may bring; and if it will bring nothing, he should abandon it. After this follow the subjects of enclosure—the necessary implements of husbandry—the number of servants and oxen required—and the soil in which different crops should be sown. We have then [pg 30]a sort of calendar, directing what operations ought to be performed in each season of the year. Thus, the author recommends draining betwixt the winter solstice and approach of the zephyrs, which was reckoned to be about the beginning of February. The sowing of grain should not be commenced before the autumnal equinox, nor delayed after the winter solstice; because the seeds which are sown previous to the equinox spring up too quickly, and those sown subsequent to the solstice scarcely appear above ground in forty days. A taste for flowers had begun to prevail at Rome in the time of Varro; he accordingly recommends their cultivation, and points out the seasons for planting the lily, violet and crocus.

The remainder of the first book of Varro is well and naturally arranged. He considers his subject from the choice of the seed, till the grain has sprung up, ripened, been reaped, secured, and brought to market. The same course is followed in treating of the vine and the olive. While on the subject of selling farm-produce to the best advantage, the conversation is suddenly interrupted by the arrival of the priest’s freedman, who came in haste to apologize to the guests for having been so long detained, and to ask them to attend on the following day at the obsequies of his master, who had been just assassinated on the public street by an unknown hand. The party in the temple immediately separate.—“De casu humano magis querentes, quam admirantes id Romæ factum.”

The subject of agriculture, strictly so called, having been discussed in the first book, Varro proceeds in the second, addressed to Niger Turranus, to treat of the care of flocks and cattle, (De Re Pecuaria). The knowledge which he here communicates is the result of his own observations, blended with the information he had received from the great pasturers of Epirus, at the time when he commanded the Grecian ships on its coast, in Pompey’s naval war with the pirates. As in the former book, the instruction is delivered in the shape of dialogue. Varro being at the house of a person called Cossinius, his host refuses to let him depart till he explain to him the origin, the dignity, and the art of pasturage. Our author undertakes to satisfy him as to the first and second points, but as to the third, he refers him to Scrofa, another of the guests, who had the management of extensive sheep-walks in the territory of the Brutii. Varro makes but a pedantic figure in the part which he has modestly taken to himself. His account of the origin of pasturage is nothing but some very common-place observations on the early stages of society; and its dignity is proved from several signs of the zodiac being [pg 31]called after animals, as also some of the most celebrated spots on the globe,—Mount Taurus, the Bosphorus, the Ægean sea, and Italy, which Varro derives from Vitulus. Scrofa, in commencing his part of the dialogue, divides the animals concerning which he is to treat into three classes: 1. the lesser; of which there are three sorts—sheep, goats, and swine; 2. the larger; of which there are also three—oxen, asses, and horses; and, lastly, those which do not themselves bring profit, but are essential to the care of the others—the dog, the mule, and the shepherd. With regard to all animals, four things are to be considered in purchasing or procuring them—their age, shape, pedigree, and price. After they have been purchased, there are other four things to be attended to—feeding, breeding, rearing, and curing distempers. According to this methodical division of the subject, Scrofa proceeds to give rules for choosing the best of the different species of animals which he has enumerated, as also directions for tending them after they have been bought, and turning them to the best profit. It is curious to hear what were considered the good points of a goat, a hog, or a horse, in the days of Pompey and Cæsar; in what regions they were produced in greatest size and perfection; what was esteemed the most nutritive provender for each; and what number constituted an ordinary flock or herd. The qualities specified as best in an ox may perhaps astonish a modern grazier; but it must be remembered, that they are applicable to the capacity for labour, not of carrying beef. Hogs were fed by the Romans on acorns, beans, and barley; and, like our own, indulged freely in the luxury of mire, which, Varro says, is as refreshing to them as the bath to human creatures. The Romans, however, did not rear, as we do, a solitary ill-looking pig in a sty, but possessed great herds, sometimes amounting to the number of two or three hundred.

From what the author records while treating of the pasturage of sheep, we learn that a similar practice prevailed in Italy, with that which at this day exists in Spain, in the management of the Merinos belonging to the Mêstà. Flocks of sheep, which pastured during the winter in Apulia, were driven to a great distance from that region, to pass the summer in Samnium; and mules were led from the champaign grounds of Rosea, at certain seasons, to the high Gurgurian mountains. With much valuable and curious information on all these various topics, there are interspersed a great many strange superstitions and fables, or what may be called vulgar errors, as that swine breathe by the ears instead of the mouth or nostrils—that when a wolf gets hold of a sow, the first thing he does is to [pg 32]plunge it into cold water, as his teeth cannot otherwise bear the heat of the flesh—that on the shore of Lusitania, mares conceive from the winds, but their foals do not live above three years—and what is more inexplicable, one of the speakers in the dialogue asserts, that he himself had seen a sow in Arcadia so fat, that a field-mouse had made a comfortable nest in her flesh, and brought forth its young.

This book concludes with what forms the most profitable part of pasturage—the dairy and sheep-shearing.

The third book, which is by far the most interesting and best written in the work, treats de villicis pastionibus, which means the provisions, or moderate luxuries, which a plain farmer may procure, independent of tillage or pasturage,—as the poultry of his barn-yard—the trouts in the stream, by which his farm is bounded—and the game, which he may enclose in parks, or chance to take on days of recreation. If others of the agricultural writers have been more minute with regard to the construction of the villa itself, it is to Varro we are chiefly indebted for what lights we have received concerning its appertenancies, as warrens, aviaries, and fish-ponds. The dialogue on these subjects is introduced in the following manner:—At the comitia, held for electing an Ædile, Varro and the Senator Axius, having given their votes for the candidate whom they mutually favoured, and wishing to be at his house to receive him on his return home, after all the suffrages had been taken, resolved to wait the issue in the shade of a villa publica. There they found Appius Claudius, the augur, whom Axius began to rally on the magnificence of his villa, at the extremity of the Campus Martius, which he contrasts with the profitable plainness of his own farm in the Reatine district. “Your sumptuous mansion,” says he, “is adorned with painting, sculpture, and carving; but to make amends for the want of these, I have all that is necessary to the cultivation of lands, and the feeding of cattle. In your splendid abode, there is no sign of the vicinity of arable lands, or vineyards. We find there neither ox nor horse—there is neither vintage in the cellars, nor corn in the granary. In what respect does this resemble the villa of your ancestors? A house cannot be called a farm or a villa, merely because it is built beyond the precincts of the city.” This polite remonstrance gives rise to a discussion with regard to the proper definition of a villa, and whether that appellation can be applied to a residence, where there is neither tillage nor pasturage. It seems to be at length agreed, that a mansion which is without these, and is merely ornamental, cannot be called a villa; but that it is properly so termed, though there be neither tillage nor pastu[pg 33]rage, if fish-ponds, pigeon-houses, and bee-hives, be kept for the sake of profit; and it is discussed whether such villas, or agricultural farms, are most lucrative.

Our author divides the Villaticæ pastiones into poultry, game, and fish. Under the first class, he comprehends birds, such as thrushes, which are kept in aviaries, to be eaten, but not any birds of game. Rules and directions are given for their management, of the same sort with those concerning the animals mentioned in the preceding book. The aviaries in the Roman villas were wonderfully productive and profitable. A very particular account is given of the construction of an aviary. Varro himself had one at his farm, near Casinum, but it was intended more for pleasure and recreation than profit. The description he gives of it is very minute, but not very distinct. The pigeon-house is treated of separately from the aviary. As to the game, the instructions do not relate to field-sports, but to the mode of keeping wild animals in enclosures or warrens. In the more simple and moderate ages of the republic, these were merely hare or rabbit warrens of no great extent; but as wealth and luxury increased, they were enlarged to the size of 40 or 50 acres, and frequently contained within their limits goats, wild boars, and deer. The author even descends to instructions with regard to keeping and fattening snails and dormice. On the subject of fish he is extremely brief, because that was rather an article of expensive luxury than homely fare; and the candidate, besides, was now momentarily expected. Fish-ponds had increased in the same proportion as warrens, and in the age of Varro were often formed at vast expense. Instances are given of the great depth and extent of ponds belonging to the principal citizens, some of which had subterraneous communications with the sea, and others were supplied by rivers, which had been turned from their course. At this part of the dialogue, a shout and unusual bustle announced the success of the candidate whom Varro favoured: on hearing this tumult, the party gave up their agricultural disquisitions, and accompanied him in triumph to the Capitol.

This work of Varro is totally different from that of Cato on the same subject, formerly mentioned. It is not a journal, but a book; and instead of the loose and unconnected manner in which the brief precepts of the Censor are delivered, it is composed on a plan not merely regular, but perhaps somewhat too stiff and formal. Its exact and methodical arrangement has particularly attracted the notice of Scaliger.—“Unicum Varronem inter Latinos habemus, libris tribus de Re Rustica, qui vere ac μεθοδικως philosophatus sit. Immo nullus [pg 34]est Græcorum qui tam bene, inter eos saltem qui ad nos pervenerunt[61].” Instead, too, of that directness and simplicity which never deviate from the plainest precepts of agriculture, the work of Varro is embellished and illustrated by much of the erudition which might be expected from the learning of its author, and of one acquainted with fifty Greek writers who had treated of the subject before him. “Cato, the famous Censor,” says Martyne, “writes like an ancient country gentleman of much experience: He abounds in short pithy sentences, intersperses his book with moral precepts, and was esteemed a sort of oracle. Varro writes more like a scholar than a man of much practice: He is fond of research into antiquity, and inquires into the etymology of the names of persons and things. Cato, too, speaks of a country life, and of farming, merely as it may be conducive to gain. Varro also speaks of it as of a wise and happy state, inclining to justice, temperance, sincerity, and all the virtues, which shelters from evil passions, by affording that constant employment, which leaves little leisure for those vices which prevail in cities, where the means and occasions for them are created and supplied.”

There were other Latin works on agriculture, besides those of Cato and Varro, but they were subsequent to the time which the present volumes are intended to embrace. Strictly speaking, indeed, even the work of Varro was written after the battle of Actium: the knowledge, however, on which its precepts were founded, was acquired long before. The style, too, is that of the Roman republic, not of the Augustan age. I have therefore considered Varro as belonging to the period on which we are at present engaged.

Indeed, the history of his life and writings is almost identified with the literary history of Rome, during the long period through which his existence was protracted. But the treatise on agriculture is the only one of his multifarious works which has descended to us entire. The other writings of this celebrated polygraph, as Cicero calls him[62], may be divided into philological, critical, historical, mythological, philosophic, and satiric; and, after all, it would probably be necessary, in order to form a complete catalogue, to add the convenient and comprehensive class of miscellaneous.

The work De Lingua Latina, though it has descended to us incomplete, is by much the most entire of Varro’s writings, except the Treatise on Agriculture. It is on account of this [pg 35]philological production, that Aulus Gellius ranks him among the grammarians, who form a numerous and important class in the History of Latin Literature. They were called grammatici by the Romans—a word which would be better rendered philologers than grammarians. The grammatic science, among the Romans, was not confined to the inflections of words or rules of syntax. It formed one of the great divisions of the art of criticism, and was understood to comprehend all those different inquiries which philology includes—embracing not only grammar, properly so called, but verbal and literal criticism, etymology, the explication and just interpretation of authors, and emendation of corrupted passages. Indeed the name of grammarian (grammaticus) is frequently applied by ancient authors[63] to those whom we should now term critics and commentators, rather than grammarians.

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.

This work, which is said to have chiefly contributed to the splendid reputation of Varro, was extant as late as the beginning of the fourteenth century. Petrarch, to whom the world has been under such infinite obligations for his ardent zeal in discovering the learned works of the Romans, had seen it in his youth. It continued ever after to be the object of his diligent search, and his bad success was a source to him of constant mortification. Of this we are informed in one of the letters, which that enthusiastic admirer of the ancients addressed to them as if they been alive, and his contemporaries. “Nullæ tamen exstant,” says he to Varro, “vel admodum laceræ, tuorum operum reliquiæ; licet divinarum et humanarum rerum libros, ex quibus sonantius nomen habes, puerum me vidisse meminerim, et recordatione torqueor, summis, ut aiunt, labiis gustatæ dulcedinis. Hos alicubi forsitan latitare suspicor, eaque, multos jam per annos, me fatigat cura, quoniam longâ quidem ac sollicitâ spe nihil est laboriosius in vitâ.”

Plutarch, in his life of Romulus, speaks of Varro as a man of all the Romans most versed in history. The historical and political works are the Annales Libri—Belli Punici Secundi Liber—De Initiis Urbis Romanæ—De Gente Populi Romani—Libri de Familiis Trojanis, which last treated of the families that followed Æneas into Italy. With this class we may rank the Hebdomadum, sive de Imaginibus Libri, containing the panegyrics of 700 illustrious men. There was a picture of each, with a legend or verse under it, like those in the children’s histories of the Kings of England. That annexed to the portrait of Demetrius Phalereus, who had upwards of 300 brazen statues erected to him by the Athenians, is still preserved:—

“Hic Demetrius æneis tot aptus est

Quot luces habet annus absolutus.”

There were seven pictures and panegyrics in each book, whence the whole work has been called Hebdomades. Varro had adopted the superstitious notions of the ancients concern[pg 43]ing particular numbers, and the number seven seems specially to have commanded his veneration. There were in the world seven wonders—there were seven wise men among the Greeks—there were seven chariots in the Circensian games—and seven chiefs were chosen to make war on Thebes: All which he sums up with remarking, that he himself had then entered his twelfth period of seven years, on which day he had written seventy times seven books, many of which, in consequence of his proscription, had been lost in the plunder of his library. It appears from Ausonius, that the tenth book of this work was occupied with pictures and panegyrics of distinguished architects, since, in his Eidyllium, entitled Mosella, he observes, that the buildings on the banks of that river would not have been despised by the most celebrated architects; and that those who planned them might well deserve a place in the tenth book of the Hebdomas of Varro:—

“Forsan et insignes hominumque operumque labores

Hic habuit decimo celebrata volumine Marci

Hebdomas.” ——

It is evident, however, from one of the letters of Symmachus, addressed to his father, that though this was a professed work of panegyric, Varro was very sparing and niggardly of his praise even to the greatest characters: “Ille Pythagoram qui animas in æternitatem primus asseruit; ille Platonem qui deos esse persuasit; ille Aristotelem qui naturam bene loquendi in artem redegit; ille pauperem Curium sed divitibus imperantem; ille severos Catones, gentem Fabiam, decora Scipionum, totumque illum triumphalem Senatum parca laude perstrinxit.” Varro also wrote an eulogy on Porcia, the wife of Brutus, which is alluded to by Cicero in one of his letters to Atticus. Among his notices of celebrated characters, it is much to be regretted that the Liber de Vita Sua, cited by Charisius, has shared the same fate as most of the other valuable works of Varro. The treatise entitled, Sisenna, sive de Historia, was a tract on the composition of history, inscribed to Sisenna, the Roman historian, who wrote an account of the civil wars of Marius and Sylla. It contained, it is said, many excellent precepts with regard to the appropriate style of history, and the accurate investigation of facts. But the greatest service rendered by Varro to history was his attempt to fix the chronology of the world. Censorinus informs us that he was the first who regulated chronology by eclipses. That learned grammarian has also mentioned the division of three great periods established by Varro. He did not determine whether the earliest [pg 44]of them had any beginning, but he fixed the end of it at the Ogygian deluge. To this period of absolute historical darkness, he supposed that a kind of twilight succeeded, which continued from that flood till the institution of the Olympic games, and this he called the fabulous age. From that date the Greeks pretend to digest their history with some degree of order and clearness. Varro, therefore, looked on it as the break of day, or commencement of the historical age. The chronology, however, of those events which occurred at the beginning of this second period, is as uncertain and confused as of those which immediately preceded it. Thus, the historical æra is evidently placed too high by Varro. The earliest writers of history did not live till long after the Olympian epoch, and they again long preceded the earliest chronologers. Timæus, about the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus, was the first who digested the events recorded by these ancient historians, according to a computation of the Olympiads[75]. Preceding writers, indeed, mention these celebrated epochs, but the mode of reckoning by them was not brought into established use for many centuries after the Olympic æra. Arnobius farther informs us, that Varro calculated that not quite 2000 years had elapsed from the Ogygian flood to the consulship of Hirtius and Pansa. The building of Rome he placed two years higher than Cato had done in his Origines, founding his computation on the eclipse which had a short while preceded the birth of Romulus; but unfortunately this eclipse is not attested by contemporary authors, nor by any historian who could vouch for it with certainty. It was calculated a long time after the phænomenon was supposed to have appeared, by Tarrutius Firmanus, the judicial astrologer, who amused himself with drawing horoscopes. Varro requested him to discover the date of Romulus’s birth, by divining it from the known events of his life, as geometrical problems are solved by analysis; for Tarrutius considered it as belonging to the same art, (and doubtless the conclusions are equally certain,) when a child’s nativity is given to predict its future life, and when the incidents of life are given to cast up the nativity. Tarrutius, accordingly, having considered the actions of Romulus, and the manner of his death, and having combined all the incidents, pronounced that he was conceived in the first year of the second Olympiad, on the 23d of the Egyptian month Choiok, on which day there had been a total eclipse of the sun.

Pompey, when about to enter for the first time on the office of Consul, being ignorant of city manners and senatorial [pg 45]forms, requested Varro to frame for him a written commentary or manual, from which he might learn the duties to be discharged by him when he convened the Senate. This book, which was entitled Isagogicum de Officio Senatus habendi, Varro says, in the letters which he wrote to Oppianus, had been lost. But in these letters he repeated many things on the subject, as what he had written before had perished[76].

The philosophical writings of Varro are not numerous; but his chief work of that description, entitled De Philosophia Liber, appears to have been very comprehensive. St Augustine informs us that Varro examined in it all the various sects of philosophers, of which he enumerated upwards of 280. The sect of the old Academy was that which he himself followed, and its tenets he maintained in opposition to all others. He classed these numerous sects in the following curious manner: All men chiefly desire, or place their happiness in, four things—pleasure—rest—these two united, (which Epicurus, however, termed pleasure,) or soundness of body and mind. Now, philosophers have contended that virtue is to be sought after for the sake of obtaining one or other of these four; or, that some one of these four is to be sought after for the sake of virtue; or, that they and virtue also are to be sought after for their own sake, and from these different opinions each of the four great objects of human desire being sought after with three different views, there are formed twelve sects of philosophers. These twelve sects are doubled, in consequence of the different opinions created by the considerations of social intercourse—some maintaining that the four great desires should be gratified for our own sake, and others, that they should be indulged only for the sake of our neighbours. The above twenty-four sects become forty-eight, from each system being defended as certain truth, or as merely the nearest approximation to probability—twenty-four sects maintaining each hypothesis as certain, and twenty-four as only probable. These again were doubled, from the difference of opinion with regard to the suitable garb and external habit and demeanour of philosophers.

We have now got ninety-six sects by a very strange sort of computation, and all these are to be tripled, according to the different opinions entertained concerning the best mode of spending life—in literary leisure, in business, or in both[77].

Varro having followed the sect of the old Academy, in preference to all others, proceeded to refute the principles of [pg 46]the sects he had enumerated. He cleared the way, by dismissing, as unworthy the name of philosophical, all those sects whose differences did not turn on what is the supreme final good; for there is no use in philosophizing, unless it be to make us happy, and that which makes us happy is the final good. But those who dispute, for example, whether a wise man should follow virtue, tranquillity, &c. partly for the sake of others, or solely for his own, do not dispute concerning what is the final good, but whether that good should be shared. In like manner, the Cynic does not dispute with regard to the supreme good, but in what dress or habit he who follows the supreme good should be clad. So also as to the controversy concerning the uncertainty of knowledge. The number of sects were thus reduced to the twelve with which our author set out, and in which the whole question relates to what is the final good. From these, however, he abstracted the sects which place the final good in pleasure, rest, or the union of both—not that he altogether disdained these, but he thought they might be included in soundness of body and mind, or what he called the prima Naturæ. There are thus only three questions which merit full discussion. Whether these prima Naturæ should be desired for the sake of virtue, or virtue for their sake, or if they and virtue also should be desired for their own sake.

Now, since in philosophy we seek the supreme felicity of man, we must inquire what man is. His nature is compounded of soul and body. Hence the summum bonum necessarily consists in the prima Naturæ or perfect soundness of mind and body. These, therefore, must be sought on their own account; and under them may be included virtue, which is part of soundness of mind, being the great director and prime former of the felicity of life.

Such were the doctrines of the old Academy, which Varro was also introduced as supporting in Cicero’s Academica.—“I have comprehended,” says that illustrious orator and philosopher, in a letter to Atticus, “the whole Academic system in four books, instead of two, in the course of which Varro is made to defend the doctrines of Antiochus[78]. I have put into his mouth all the arguments which were so accurately collected by Antiochus against the opinion of those who contend that there is no certainty to be attained in human knowledge. These I have answered myself. But the part assigned to Varro in the debate is so good, that I do not think the cause which I support appears the better.”

I am not certain under what class Varro’s Novem libri Disciplinarum should be ranked, as it probably comprehended instructive lessons in the whole range of arts and sciences. One of the chapters, according to Vitruvius, was on the subject of architecture. Varro was particularly full and judicious in his remarks on the construction and situation of Roman villas, and seems to have laid the foundation for what Palladius and Columella subsequently compiled on that interesting topic. Another chapter was on arithmetic; and Fabricius mentions, that Vetranius Maurus has declared, in his Life of Varro, that he saw this part of the work, De Disciplinis, at Rome, in the library of the Cardinal Lorenzo Strozzi.

Varro derived much notoriety from his satirical compositions. His Tricarenus, or Tricipitina, was a satiric history of the triumvirate of Cæsar, Pompey, and Crassus. Much pleasantry and sarcasm were also interspersed in his books entitled Logistorici; but his most celebrated production in that line was the satire which he himself entitled Menippean. It was so called from the cynic Menippus of Gadara, a city in Syria, who, like his countryman Meleager, was in the habit of expressing himself jocularly on the most grave and important subjects. He was the author of a Symposium, in the manner of Xenophon. His writings were interspersed with verses, parodied from Homer and the tragic poets, or ludicrously applied, for the purpose of burlesque. It is not known, however, that he wrote any professed satire. The appellation, then, of Menippean, was given to his satire by Varro, not from any production of the same kind by Menippus, but because he imitated his general style of humour. In its external form it appears to have been a sort of literary anomaly. Greek words and phrases were interspersed with Latin; prose was mingled with verses of various measures; and pleasantry with serious remark. As to its object and design, Cicero introduces Varro himself explaining this in the Academica. After giving his reasons for not writing professedly on philosophical subjects, he continues,—“In those ancient writings of ours, we, imitating Menippus, without translating him, have infused a degree of mirth and gaiety along with a portion of our most secret philosophy and logic, so that even our unlearned readers might more easily understand them, being, as it were, invited to read them with some pleasure. Besides, in the discourses we have composed in praise of the dead, and in the introductions to our antiquities, it was our wish to write in a manner worthy of philosophers, provided we have attained the desired object.” From what Cicero afterwards says in this dialogue, while addressing himself to Varro, it would appear, that he [pg 48]had indeed touched on philosophical subjects in his Menippean satire, but that, learned as he was, his object was more to amuse his readers than instruct them: “You have entered on topics of philosophy in a manner sufficient to allure readers to its study, but inadequate to convey full instruction, or to advance its progress.”

Many fragments of this Menippean satire still remain, but they are much broken and corrupted. The heads of the different subjects, or chapters, contained in it, amounting to near one hundred and fifty, have been given by Fabricius in alphabetical order. Some of them are in Latin, others in Greek. A few chapters have double titles; and, though little remains of them but the titles, these show what an infinite variety of subjects was treated by the author. As a specimen, I subjoin those ranged under the letter A. Aborigines,—Περι Ανθρωπων φυσεως,—De Admirandis, vel Gallus Fundanius,—Agatho,—Age modo,—Αιει διβυη, vel περι Αἱρεσεων,—Ajax Stramentitius,—Αλλος ὁυτος Ἡρακλης,—Andabatæ,—Anthropopolis,—περι Αρχης, seu Marcopolis,—περι Αρχαιρεσιων, seu Serranus,—περι Αρετης κτησεως,—περι Αφροδισιων, seu vinalia,—Armorum judicium,—περι Αρρενοτητος, seu Triphallus,—Autumedus,—Mæonius,—Baiæ, &c.[79]

There is a chapter concerning the duty of a husband, (De officio Mariti,) in which the author observes, that the errors of a wife are either to be cured or endured: He who extirpates them makes his wife better, but he who bears with them improves himself. Another is inscribed, “You know not what a late evening, or supper, may bring with it,” (Nescis quid vesper serus vehat.) In this chapter he remarks, that the number of guests should not be less than that of the Graces, or more than that of the Muses. To render an entertainment perfect, four things must concur—agreeable company, suitable place, convenient time, and careful preparation. The guests should not be loquacious or taciturn. Silence is for the bed-chamber, and eloquence for the Forum, but neither for a feast. The conversation ought not to turn on anxious or difficult subjects, but should be cheerful and inviting, so that utility may be combined with a certain degree of pleasure and allurement. This will be best managed, by discoursing of those things which relate to the ordinary occurrences or affairs of life, concerning which one has not leisure to talk in the Forum, or while transacting business. The master of the feast should rather be neat and clean than splendidly attired; and if he introduce reading into the entertainment, it should be so [pg 49]selected as to amuse, and to be neither troublesome nor tedious[80]. A third chapter is entitled, περι ἐδεσματων; and treats of the rarer delicacies of an entertainment, especially foreign luxuries. Au. Gellius has given us the import of some verses, in which Varro mentioned the different countries which supplied the most exquisite articles of food. Peacocks came from Samos; cranes from Melos; kids from Ambracia; and the best oysters from Tarentum[81]. Part of the chapter γνωθι σεαυτον was directed against the Latin tragic poets.

What remains of the verses interspersed in the Menippean satire, is too trifling to enable us to form any accurate judgment of the poetical talents of Varro.

The style of satire introduced by Varro was imitated by Lucius Annæus Seneca, in his satire on the deification of Claudius Cæsar, who was called on earth Divus Claudius. The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter, in which that writer lashed the luxury, and avarice, and other vices of his age, is a satire of the Varronian species, prose being mingled with verse, and jest with serious remark. Such, too, are the Emperor Julian’s Symposium of the Cæsars, in which he characterizes his predecessors; and his Μισοπωγων, directed against the luxurious manners of the citizens of Antioch.

Besides the works of Varro above mentioned, there is a miscellaneous collection of sentences or maxims which have been attributed to him, though it is not known in what part of his numerous writings they were originally introduced. Barthius found seventeen of these sentences in a MS. of the middle age, and printed them in his Adversaria. Schneider afterwards discovered, in the Speculum Historiale of Vincent de Beauvais, a monk of the thirteenth century, a much more ample collection of them, which he has inserted in his edition of the Scriptores rei Rusticæ[82]. They consist of moral maxims, in the style of those preserved from the Mimes of Publius Syrus, and had doubtless been culled as flowers from the works of Varro, at a time when the immense garden of taste and learning which he planted, had not yet been laid waste by the hand of time, or the spoiler[83].

Though the above list of the works of Varro is far from complete, a sufficient number has been mentioned to justify the exclamation of Quintilian,—“Quam multa, immo pene omnia tradidit Varro!” and the more full panegyric of Cicero,—“His works brought us home, as it were, while we were foreigners in our own city, and wandering like strangers, so that we might know who and where we were; for in them are laid open the chronology of his country,—a description of the seasons,—the laws of religion,—the ordinances of the priests,—domestic and military occurrences,—the situations of countries and places,—the names of all things divine and human,—the breed of animals,—moral duties,—and the origin of things[84].”

Nor did Varro merely delight and instruct his fellow-citizens by his writings. By his careful attention, in procuring the most valuable books, and establishing libraries, he provided, perhaps, still more effectually than by his own learned compositions, for the progressive improvement and civilization of his countrymen. The formation of either private or public libraries was late of taking place at Rome, for the Romans were late in attending to literary studies. Tiraboschi quotes a number of writers who have discovered a library in the public records preserved at Rome[85], and in the books of the Sibyls[86]. But these, he observes, may be classed with the library which Madero found to have existed before the flood, and that belonging to Adam, of which Hilscherus has made out an exact catalogue[87]. From Syracuse and Corinth the Romans brought away the statues and pictures, and other monuments of the fine arts; but we do not learn that they carried to the capital any works of literature or science. Some agricultural books found their way to Rome from Africa, on the destruction of Carthage; but the other treasures of its libraries, though they fell under the power of a conqueror not without pretensions to taste and erudition, were bestowed on the African princes in alliance with the Romans[88].

Paulus Emilius is said by Plutarch to have allowed his sons to choose some volumes from the library of Perseus, King of Macedon[89], whom he led captive to Rome in 585. But the honour of first possessing a library in Rome is justly due to Sylla; who, on the occupation of Athens, in 667, acquired the library of Apellicon, which he discovered in the temple of [pg 51]Apollo. This collection, which contained, among various other books, the works of Aristotle and Theophrastus, was reserved to himself by Sylla from the plunder; and, having been brought to Rome, was arranged by the grammarian Tyrannio, who also supplied and corrected the mutilated text of Aristotle[90]. Engaged, as he constantly was, in domestic strife or foreign warfare, Sylla could have made little use of this library, and he did not communicate the benefit of it to scholars, by opening it to the public; but the example of the Dictator prompted other commanders not to overlook the libraries, in the plunder of captured cities, and books thus became a fashionable acquisition. Sometimes, indeed, these collections were rather proofs of the power and opulence of the Roman generals, than of their literary taste or talents. A certain value was now affixed to manuscripts; and these were, in consequence, amassed by them, from a spirit of rapacity, and the principle of leaving nothing behind which could be carried off by force or stratagem. In one remarkable instance, however, the learning of the proprietor fully corresponded to the literary treasures which he had collected. Lucullus, a man of severe study, and wonderfully skilled in all the fine arts, after having employed many years in the cultivation of literature, and the civil administration of the republic, was unexpectedly called, in consequence of a political intrigue, to lead on the Roman army in the perilous contest with Mithridates; and, though previously unacquainted with military affairs, he became the first captain of the age, with little farther experience, than his study of the art of war, during the voyage from Rome to Asia. His attempts to introduce a reform in the corrupt administration of the Asiatic provinces, procured him enemies, through whose means he was superseded in the command of the army, by one who was not superior to him in talents, and was far inferior in virtue. After his recall from Pontus, and retreat to a private station, he offered a new spectacle to his countrymen. He did not retire, like Fabricius and Cincinnatus, to plough his farm, and eat turnips in a cottage—he did not, like Africanus, quit his country in disgust, because it had unworthily treated him; nor did he spend his wealth and leisure, like Sylla, in midnight debauchery with buffoons and parasites. He employed the riches he had acquired during his campaigns in the construction of delightful villas, situated on the shore of the sea, or hanging on the declivities of hills. Gardens and spacious porticos, which he adorned with all the elegance of painting [pg 52]and sculpture, made the Romans ashamed of their ancient rustic simplicity. These would doubtless be the objects of admiration to his contemporaries; but it was his library, in which so many copies of valuable works were multiplied or preserved, and his distinguished patronage of learning, that claim the gratitude of posterity. “His library,” says Plutarch, “had walks, galleries, and cabinets belonging to it, which were open to all visitors; and the ingenious Greeks resorted to this abode of the muses to hold literary converse, in which Lucullus delighted to join them[91].” Other Roman patricians had patronized literature, by extending their protection to a favoured few, as the elder Scipio Africanus to Ennius, and the younger to Terence; but Lucullus was the first who encouraged all the arts and sciences, and promoted learning with princely munificence.

But the slave Tyrannio vied with the most splendid of the Romans in the literary treasures he had amassed. A native of Pontus, he was taken prisoner by Lucullus, in the course of the war with Mithridates; and, having been brought to Rome, he was given to Muræna, from whom he received freedom[92]. He spent the remainder of his life in teaching rhetoric and grammar. He also arranged the library of Cicero at Antium[93], and taught his nephew, Quintus, in the house of the orator[94]. These various employments proved so profitable, that they enabled him to acquire a library of 30,000 volumes[95]. Libraries of considerable extent were also formed by Atticus and Cicero; and Varro was not inferior to any of his learned contemporaries, in the industry of collecting and transcribing manuscripts, both in the Greek and Latin language.

The library of Varro, however, and all the others which we have mentioned, were private—open, indeed, to literary men, from the general courtesy of the possessors, but the access to them still dependent on their good will and indulgence. Julius Cæsar was the first who formed the design of establishing a great public library; and to Varro he assigned the task of arranging the books which he had procured. This plan, which was rendered abortive by the untimely fate of Cæsar, was carried into effect by Asinius Pollio, who devoted part of the wealth he had acquired from the spoils of war, to the construction of a magnificent gallery, adjacent to the Temple [pg 53]of Liberty, which he filled with books, and the busts of the learned. Varro was the only living author who, in this public library, had the honour of an image[96], which was erected to him as a testimony of respect for his universal erudition. He also aided Augustus with his advice, in the formation of the two libraries which that emperor established, and which was part of his general system for the encouragement of science and learning. When tyrants understand their trade, and when their judgment is equal to their courage or craft, they become the most zealous and liberal promoters of the interests of learning; for they know that it is for their advantage to withdraw the minds of their subjects from political discussion and to give them, in exchange, the consoling pleasures of imagination, and the inexhaustible occupations of scientific curiosity.

Were I writing the history of Roman arts, it would be necessary to mention that Varro excelled in his knowledge of all those that are useful, and in his taste for all those that are elegant. He was the contriver of what may be considered as the first hour clock that was made in Rome, and which measured time by a hand entirely moved by mechanism. That he also possessed a Museum, adorned with exquisite works of sculpture, we learn from Pliny, who mentions, that it contained an admirable group, by the statuary Archelaus, formed out of one block of marble, and representing a lioness, with Cupids sporting around her—some giving her drink from a horn; some in the attitude of putting socks on her paws, and others in the act of binding her. The same writer acquaints us, that, in the year 692, Varro, who was then Curule Ædile, caused a piece of painting, in fresco, to be brought from Sparta to Rome, in order to adorn the Comitium—the whole having been cut out entire, and enclosed in cases of wood. The painting was excellent, and much admired; but what chiefly excited astonishment, was that it should have been taken from the wall without injury, and transported safe to Italy[97].

I fear I have too long detained the reader with this account of the life and writings of Varro; yet it is not unpleasing to dwell on such a character. He was the contemporary of Marius and Sylla, of Cæsar and Pompey, of Antony and Octavius, these men of contention and massacre; and amid the convulsions into which they threw their country, it is not ungrateful to trace the Secretum Iter, which he silently pursued through a period unparalleled in anarchy and crimes. Uninterrupted, save for a moment, by strife and ambition, he [pg 54]prosecuted his literary labours till the extreme term of his prolonged existence. “In eodem enim lectulo,” says Valerius Maximus, with a spirit and eloquence beyond his usual strain of composition—“In eodem enim lectulo, et spiritus ejus, et egregiorum operum cursus extinctus est.”

NIGIDIUS FIGULUS

was a man much resembling Varro, and next to him was accounted the most learned of the Romans[98]. He was the contemporary of Cicero, and one of his chief advisers and associates in suppressing the conspiracy of Catiline[99]. Shortly afterwards he arrived at the dignity of Prætor, but having espoused the part of Pompey in the civil wars, he was driven into banishment on the accession of Cæsar to the supreme power, and died in 709, before Cicero could obtain his recall from exile[100]. He was much addicted to judicial astrology; and ancient writers relate a vast number of his predictions, particularly that of the empire of the world to Augustus, which he presaged immediately after the birth of that prince[101].

Nigidius vied with Varro in multifarious erudition, and the number of his works—grammar, criticism, natural history, and the origin of man, having successively employed his pen. His writings are praised by Cicero, Pliny, Aulus Gellius, and Macrobius; but they were rendered almost entirely unfit for popular use by their subtlety, mysteriousness, and obscurity[102]—defects to which his cultivation of judicial astrology, and adoption of the Pythagorean philosophy, may have materially contributed. Aulus Gellius gives many examples of the obscurity, or rather unintelligibility, of his grammatical writings[103]. His chief work was his Grammatical Commentaries, in thirty books, in which he attempted to show, that names and words were fixed not by accidental application, but by a certain power and order of nature. One of his examples, of terms being rather natural than arbitrary, was taken from the word Vos, in pronouncing which, he observed, that we use a certain motion of the mouth, agreeing with what the word itself expresses: We protrude, by degrees, the tips of our lips, and thrust forward our breath and mind towards those with whom we are engaged in conversation. On the other hand, when we say nos, we do not pronounce it with a broad and expan[pg 55]ded blast of the voice, nor with projecting lips, but we restrain our breath and lips, as it were, within ourselves. The like natural signs accompany the utterance of the words tu and ego—tibi and mihi[104]. Nigidius also wrote works, entitled De Animalibus, De Ventis, De Extis, and a great many treatises on the nature of the gods. All these have long since perished, except a very few fragments, which have been collected and explained by Janus Rutgersius, in the third book of his Variæ Lectiones, published at Leyden in 1618; 4to. In this collection he has also inserted a Greek translation of another lost work of Nigidius, on the presages to be drawn from thunder. The original Latin is said to have been taken from books which bore the name of the Etruscan Tages, the supposed founder of the science of divination. The Greek version was executed by Laurentius, a philosopher of the age of Justinian, and his translation was discovered by Meursius, about the beginning of the seventeenth century, in the Palatine library. It is a sort of Almanack, containing presages of thunder for each particular day of the year, and beginning with June. If it thunder on the 13th of June, the life or fortunes of some great person are menaced—if on the 19th of July, war is announced—if on the 5th of August, it is indicated that those women, with whom we have any concern, will become somewhat more reasonable than they have hitherto proved[105].

With Varro and Nigidius Figulus, may be classed Tiro, the celebrated freedman of Cicero, and constant assistant in all his literary pursuits. He wrote many books on the use and formation of the Latin language, and others on miscellaneous subjects, which he denominated Pandectas[106], as comprehending every sort of literary topic.

Quintus Cornificius, the elder, was also a very general scholar. He composed a curious treatise on the etymology of the names of things in heaven and earth, in which he discovered great knowledge, both of Roman antiquities, and the most recondite Grecian literature. It was here he introduced an explication of Homer’s dark fable, where Jupiter and all the gods proceed to feast for twelve days in Ethiopia. The work was written in 709, during the time of Cæsar’s last expedition to Spain, and was probably intended as a supplement to Varro’s treatise on a similar topic.

[pg 56]

HISTORY.

From our supposing that those things which affected our ancestors may affect us, and that those which affect us must affect posterity, we become fond of collecting memorials of prior events, and also of preserving the remembrance of incidents which have occurred in our own age. The historic passion, if it may be so termed, thus naturally divides itself into two desires—that of indulging our own curiosity, and of relating what has occurred to ourselves or our contemporaries.

Monuments accordingly have been raised, and rude hymns composed, for this purpose, by people who had scarcely acquired the use of letters. Among civilized nations, the passion grows in proportion to the means of gratifying it, and the force of example comes to be so strongly felt, that its power and influence are soon historically employed.

The Romans were, in all ages, particularly fond of giving instruction, by every sort of example. They placed the images of their ancestors in the Forum and the vestibules of their houses, so that these venerable forms everywhere met their eyes; and by recalling the glorious actions of the dead, excited the living to emulate their forefathers. The virtue of one generation was thus transfused, by the magic of example, into those by which it was succeeded, and the spirit of heroism was maintained through many ages of the republic—

“Has olim virtus crevit Romana per artes:

Namque foro in medio stabant spirantia signa

Magnanimûm heroum; hîc Decios, magnosque Camillos

Cernere erat: vivax heroum in imagine virtus,

Invidiamque ipsis factura nepotibus, acri

Urgebat stimulo Romanum in prælia robur[107].”

History, therefore, among the Romans, was not composed merely to gratify curiosity, or satiate the historic passion, but also to inflame, by the force of example, and urge on to emulation, in warlike prowess. An insatiable thirst of military fame—an unlimited ambition of extending their empire—an unbounded confidence in their own force and courage—an impetuous overbearing spirit, with which all their enterprises were pursued, composed, in the early days of the Republic, the characteristics of Romans. To foment, and give fresh [pg 57]vigour to these, was a chief object of history.—“I have recorded these things,” says an old Latin annalist, after giving an account of Regulus, “that they who read my commentaries may be rendered, by his example, greater and better.”

Accordingly, the Romans had journalists or annalists, from the earliest periods of the state. The Annals of the Pontiffs were of the same date, if we may believe Cicero, as the foundation of the city[108]; but others have placed their commencement in the reign of Numa[109], and Niebuhr not till after the battle of Regillus, which terminated the hopes of Tarquin[110]. In order to preserve the memory of public transactions, the Pontifex Maximus, who was the official historian of the Republic, annually committed to writing, on wooden tablets, the leading events of each year, and then set them up at his own house for the instruction of the people[111]. These Annals were continued down to the Pontificate of Mucius, in the year 629, and were called Annales Maximi, as being periodically compiled and kept by the Pontifex Maximus, or Publici, as recording public transactions. Having been inscribed on wooden tablets, they would necessarily be short, and destitute of all circumstantial detail; and being annually formed by successive Pontiffs, could have no appearance of a continued history. They would contain, as Lord Bolingbroke remarks, little more than short minutes or memoranda, hung up in the Pontiff’s house, like the rules of the game in a billiard room: their contents would resemble the epitome prefixed to the books of Livy, or the Register of Remarkable Occurrences in modern Almanacks.

But though short, jejune, and unadorned, still, as records of facts, these annals, if spared, would have formed an inestimable treasure of early history. The Roman territory, in the first ages of the state, was so confined, that every event may be considered as having passed under the immediate observation of the sacred annalist. Besides, the method which, as Cicero informs us, was observed in preparing these Annals, and the care that was taken to insert no fact, of which the truth had not been attested by as many witnesses as there were citizens at Rome, who were all entitled to judge and make their remarks on what ought either to be added or retrenched, must have formed the most authentic body of history that could be desired. The memory of transactions which were yet recent, and whose concomitant circumstances every one could remember, was therein transmitted to posterity. By these means, [pg 58]the Annals were proof against falsification, and their veracity was incontestibly fixed.

These valuable records, however, were, for the most part, consumed in the conflagration of the city, consequent on its capture by the Gauls—an event which was to the early history of Rome what the English invasion by Edward I. proved to the history of Scotland. The practice of the Pontifex Maximus preserving such records was discontinued after that eventful period. A feeble attempt was made to revive it towards the end of the second Punic war; and, from that time, the custom was not entirely dropped till the Pontificate of Mucius, in the year 629. It is to this second series of Annals, or to some other late and ineffectual attempt to revive the ancient Roman history, that Cicero must allude, when he talks of the Great Annals, in his work De Legibus[112], since it is undoubted that the pontifical records of events previous to the capture of Rome by the Gauls, almost entirely perished in the conflagration of the city[113]. Accordingly, Livy never cites these records, and there is no appearance that he had any opportunity of consulting them; nor are they mentioned by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in the long catalogue of records and memorials which he had employed in the composition of his Historical Antiquities. The books of the Pontiffs, some of which were recovered in the search made to find what the flames had spared, are, indeed, occasionally mentioned. But these were works explaining the mysteries of religion, with instructions as to the ceremonies to be observed in its practical exercise, and could have been of no more service to Roman, than a collection of breviaries or missals to modern history.

Statues, inscriptions, and other public monuments, which aid in perpetuating the memory of illustrious persons, and transmitting to posterity the services they have rendered their country, were accounted, among the Romans, as the most honourable rewards that could be bestowed on great actions; and virtue, in those ancient times, thought no recompense more worthy of her than the immortality which such monuments seemed to promise. Rome having produced so many examples of a disinterested patriotism and valour must have been filled with monuments of this description when taken by the Gauls. But these honorary memorials were thrown down along with the buildings, and buried in the ruins. If any escaped, it was but a small number; and the greatest part of [pg 59]those that were to be seen at Rome in the eighth century of the city, were founded on fabulous traditions which proved that the loss of the true monuments had occasioned the substitution of false ones. Had the genuine monuments been preserved at Rome, even till the period when the first regular annals began to be composed, though they would not have sufficed to restore the history entirely, they would have served at least to have perpetuated incontestably the memory of various important facts, to have fixed their dates, and transmitted the glory of great men to posterity.

On what then, it will be asked, was the Roman history founded, and what authentic records were preserved as materials for its composition? There were first the Leges Regiæ. These were diligently searched for, and were discovered along with the Twelve Tables, after the sack of the city: And all those royal laws which did not concern sacred matters, were publicly exposed to be seen and identified by the people[114], that no suspicion of forgery or falsification might descend to posterity. These precautions leave us little room to doubt that the Leges Regiæ, and Laws of the Tables, were preserved, and that they remained as they had been originally promulgated by the kings and decemvirs. Such laws, however, would be of no greater service to Roman history, than what the Regiam Majestatem has been to that of Scotland. They might be useful in tracing the early constitution of the state, the origin of several customs, ceremonies, public offices, and other points of antiquarian research, but they could be of little avail in fixing dates, ascertaining facts, and setting events in their true light, which form the peculiar objects of civil history.

Treaties of peace, which were the pledges of the public tranquillity from without, being next to the laws of the greatest importance to the state, much care was bestowed, after the expulsion of the Gauls, in recovering as many of them as the flames had spared. Some of them were the more easily restored, from having been kept in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, which the fury of the enemy could not reach[115]. Those which had been saved, continued to be very carefully preserved, and there is no reason to suspect them of having been falsified. Among the treaties which were rescued from destruction, Horace mentions those of the Kings, with the Gabii and the Sabines (Fœdera Regum[116].) The former was that concluded by Tarquinius Superbus, and which, Dionysius [pg 60]of Halicarnassus informs us, was still preserved at Rome in his time, in the temple of Jupiter Fidius, on a buckler made of wood, and covered with an ox’s hide, on which the articles of the treaty were written in ancient characters[117]. Dionysius mentions two treaties with the Sabines—the first was between Romulus and their king Tatius[118]; and the other, the terms of which were inscribed on a column erected in a temple, was concluded with them by Tullus Hostilius, at the close of a Sabine war[119]. Livy likewise cites a treaty made with the Ardeates[120]; and Polybius has preserved entire another entered into with the Carthaginians, in the year of the expulsion of the kings[121]. Pliny has also alluded to one of the conditions of a treaty which Porsenna, the ally of Tarquin, granted to the Roman people[122]. Now these leagues with the Gabii, Sabines, Ardeates, and one or two with the Latins, are almost the only treaties we find anywhere referred to by the ancient Latin historians; who thus seem to have employed but little diligence in consulting those original documents, or drawing from them, in compiling their histories, such assistance as they could have afforded. The treaties quoted by Polybius and Pliny, completely contradict the relations of the Latin annalists; those cited by Polybius proving, in opposition to their assertions, that the Carthaginians had been in possession of a great part of Sicily about a century previous to the date which Livy has fixed to their first expedition to that island; and those quoted by Pliny, that Porsenna, instead of treating with the Romans on equal terms, as represented by their historians, had actually prohibited them from employing arms,—permitting them the use of iron only in tilling the ground[123].

The Libri Lintei (so called because written on linen) are cited by Livy after the old annalist Licinius Macer, by whom they appear to have been carefully studied. These books were kept in the temple of Juno Moneta, but were probably of less importance than the other public records, which were inscribed on rolls of lead. They were obviously a work of no great extent, since Livy, who appeals to them on four different occasions in the space of ten years, just after the degradation of the decemvirs, had not quoted them before, and never refers to them again. There also appear to have been different copies of them which did not exactly agree, and Livy seems [pg 61]far from considering their authority as decisive even on the points on which reference is made to them[124].

The Memoirs of the Censors were journals preserved by those persons who held the office of Censor. They were transmitted by them to their descendants as so many sacred pledges, and were preserved in the families which had been rendered illustrious by that dignity. They formed a series of eulogies on those who had thus exalted the glory of their house, and contained a relation of the memorable actions performed by them in discharge of the high censorial office with which they had been invested[125]. Hence they must be considered as part of the Family Memoirs, which were unfortunately the great and corrupt sources of early Roman history.

It was the custom of the ancient families of Rome to preserve with religious care everything that could contribute to perpetuate the glory of their ancestry, and confer honour on their lineage. Thus, besides the titles which were placed under the smoky images of their forefathers, there were likewise tables in their apartments on which lay books and memoirs recording, in a style of general panegyric, the services they had performed for the state during their exercise of the employments with which they had been dignified[126].

Had these Family Memoirs been faithfully composed, they would have been of infinite service to history; and although all other monuments had perished, they alone would have supplied the defect. They were a record, by those who had the best access to knowledge, of the high offices which their ancestors had filled, and of whatever memorable was transacted during the time they had held the exalted situations of Prætor or Consul: Even the dates of events, as may be seen by a fragment which Dionysius of Halicarnassus cites from them, were recorded with all the appearance of accuracy. Each set of family memoirs thus formed a series of biographies, which, by preserving the memory of the great actions of individuals, and omitting nothing that could tend to their illustration, comprehended also the principal affairs of state, in which they had borne a share. From the fragments of the genealogical book of the Porcian family, quoted by Aulus Gellius, and the abstract of the Memoirs of the Claudian and Livian families, preserved by Suetonius, in the first chapters of his Life of Tiberius, we may perceive how important such memoirs would have been, and what light they would have thrown on history, had they possessed the stamp of fidelity. But unfor[pg 62]tunately, in their composition more regard was paid to family reputation than to historical truth. Whatever tended to exalt its name was embellished and exaggerated. Whatever could dim its lustre was studiously withdrawn. Circumstances, meanwhile, became peculiarly favourable for these high family pretensions. The destruction of the public monuments and annals of the Pontiffs, gave ample scope for the vanity or fertile imagination of those who chose to fabricate titles and invent claims to distinction, the falsity of which could no longer be demonstrated. “All the monuments,” says Plutarch, “being destroyed at the taking of Rome, others were substituted, which were forged out of complaisance to private persons, who pretended to be of illustrious families, though in fact they had no relation to them[127].” So unmercifully had the great families availed themselves of this favourable opportunity, that Livy complains that these private memoirs were the chief cause of the uncertainty in which he was forced to fluctuate during the early periods of his history. “What has chiefly confounded the history,” says he, “is each family ascribing to itself the glory of great actions and honourable employments. Hence, doubtless, the exploits of individuals and public monuments have been falsified; nor have we so much as one writer of these times whose authority can be depended on[128].” Those funeral orations on the dead, which it was the custom to deliver at Rome, and which were preserved in families as carefully as the memoirs, also contributed to augment this evil. Cicero declares, that history had been completely falsified by these funeral panegyrics, many things being inserted in them which never were performed, or existed—False triumphs, supernumerary consulships, and forged pedigrees[129].

Connected with these prose legends, there were also the old heroic ballads formerly mentioned, on which the annals of Ennius were in a great measure built, and to which may be traced some of those wonderful incidents of Roman history, chiefly contrived for the purpose of exalting the military achievements of the country. Many things which of right belong to such ancient poems, still exist under the disguise of an historical clothing in the narratives of the Roman annalists. Niebuhr, the German historian of Rome, has recently analysed these legends, and taken much from the Roman history, by detecting what incidents rest on no other foundation than their chimerical or embellished pictures, and by shewing how [pg 63]incidents, in themselves unconnected, have by their aid been artificially combined. Such, according to him, were the stories of the birth of Romulus, of the treason of Tatia, the death of the Fabii, and the incidents of an almost complete Epopée, from the succession of Tarquinius Priscus to the battle of Regillus. These old ballads, being more attractive and of easier access than authentic records and monuments, were preferred to them as authorities; and even when converted into prose, retained much of their original and poetic spirit. For example, it was feigned in them that Tullus Hostilius was the son of Hostus Hostilius, who perished in the war with the Sabines, which, according to chronology, would make Tullus at least eighty years old when he mounted the throne; but it was thought a fine thing to represent him as the son of a genuine Roman hero, who had fallen in the service of his country. Niebuhr, probably, as I have already shown, has attributed too much to these old heroic ballads, and has assigned to them an extent and importance of which there are no adequate proofs. But I strongly suspect that the heroic or historical poems of Ennius had formed a principal document to the Roman annalists for the transactions during the Monarchy and earlier times of the Republic, and had been appealed to, like Ferdousi’s Shad-Nameh, for occurrences which were probably rather fictions of fancy than events of history.

The Greek writers, from whom several fables and traditions were derived concerning the infancy of Rome, lived not much higher than the age of Fabius Pictor, and only mention its affairs cursorily, while treating of Alexander or his successors. Polybius, indeed, considers their narratives as mere vulgar traditions[130], and Dionysius says they have written some few things concerning the Romans, which they have compiled from common reports, without accuracy or diligence. To them have been plausibly attributed those fables, concerning the exploits of Romans, which bear so remarkable an analogy to incidents in Grecian history[131]. Like to these in all respects are the histories which some Romans published in Greek concerning the ancient transactions of their own nation.

We thus see that the authentic materials for the early history of Rome were meagre and imperfect—that the annals of the Pontiffs and public monuments had perished—that the Leges Regiæ, Twelve Tables, and remains of the religious or ritual books of the Pontiffs, could throw no great light on history, and that the want of better materials was supplied by false, [pg 64]and sometimes incredible relations, drawn from the family traditions—“ad ostentationem scenæ gaudentis miraculis aptiora quàm ad fidem[132].” The mutilated inscriptions, too, the scanty treaties, and the family memoirs, became, from the variations in the language, in a great measure unintelligible to the generation which succeeded that in which they were composed. Polybius informs us, that the most learned Romans of his day could not read a treaty with the Carthaginians, concluded after the expulsion of the kings. Hence, the documents for history, such as they were, became useless to the historian, or, at least, were of such difficulty, that he would sometimes mistake their import, and be, at others, deterred from investigation.

When all this is considered, and also that Rome, in its commencement, was the dwelling of a rude and ignorant people, subsisting by rapine—that the art of writing, the only sure guardian of the remembrance of events, was little practised—that critical examination was utterly unknown; and that the writers of no other nation would think of accurately transmitting to posterity events, which have only become interesting from the subsequent conquests and extension of the Roman empire, it must be evident, that the materials provided for the work of the historian would necessarily be obscure and uncertain.

The great general results recorded in Roman history, during the first five centuries, cannot, indeed, be denied. It cannot be doubted that Rome ultimately triumphed over the neighbouring nations, and obtained possession of their territories; for Rome would not have been what we know it was in the sixth century, without these successes. But there exists, in the particular events recorded in the Roman history, sufficient internal evidence of its uncertainty, or rather falsehood; and here I do not refer to the lying fables, and absurd prodigies, which the annalists may have inserted in deference to the prejudices of the people, nor to the almost incredible daring and endurance of Scævola, Cocles, or Curtius, which may be accounted for from the wild spirit of a half-civilized nation, and are not unlike the acts we hear of among Indian tribes; but I allude to the total improbability of the historic details concerning transactions with surrounding tribes, and the origin of domestic institutions. How, for example, after so long a series of defeats, with few intervals of prosperity interposed, could the Italian states have possessed resources sufficient incessantly to renew hostilities, in which they were [pg 65]always the aggressors? And how, on the other hand, should the Romans, with their constant preponderance of force and fortune, (if the repetition and magnitude of their victories can be depended on,) have been so long employed in completely subjugating them? The numbers slain, according to Livy’s account, are so prodigious, that it is difficult to conceive how the population of such moderate territories, as belonged to the independent Italian communities, could have supplied such losses. We, therefore, cannot avoid concluding, that the frequency and importance of these campaigns were magnified by the consular families indulging in the vanity of exaggerating the achievements of their ancestors[133]. Sometimes these campaigns are represented as carried on against the whole nation of Volsci, Samnites, or Etruscans, when, in fact, only a part was engaged; and, at other times, battles, which never were fought, have been extracted from the family memoirs, where they were drawn up to illustrate each consulate; for what would a consul have been without a triumph or a victory? It would exceed my limits were I to point out the various improbabilities and evident inconsistencies of this sort recorded in the early periods of Roman history. With regard, again, to the domestic institutions of Rome, everything (doubtless for the sake of effect and dignity) is represented as having at once originated in the refined policy and foresight of the early kings. The division of the people into tribes and curiæ—the relations of patron and client—the election of senators—in short, the whole fabric of the constitution, is exhibited as a preconcerted plan of political wisdom, and not (as a constitution has been in every other state, and must have been in Rome) the gradual result of contingencies and progressive improvements, of assertions of rights, and struggles for power.

The opinion entertained by Polybius of the uncertainty of the Roman history, is sufficiently manifest from a passage in the fourth book of his admirable work, which is written with all the philosophy and profound inquiry of Tacitus, without any of his apparent affectation.—“The things which I have undertaken to describe,” says he, “are those which I myself have seen, or such as I have received from men who were eye-witnesses of them. For, had I gone back to a more early period, and borrowed my accounts from the report of persons who themselves had only heard them before from others, as it would scarcely have been possible that I should myself be able to discern the true state of the matters that were then transacted, so neither could I have written anything concerning [pg 66]them with confidence.” What, indeed, can we expect to know with regard to the Kings of Rome, when we find so much uncertainty with regard to the most memorable events of the republic, as the period of the first creation of a dictator and tribunes of the people? The same doubt exists in the biography of illustrious characters. Cicero says, that Coriolanus, having gone over to the Volsci, repressed the struggles of his resentment by a voluntary death; “for, though you, my Atticus,” he continues, “have represented his death in a different manner, you must pardon me if I do not subscribe to the justness of your representations[134].” Atticus, I presume, gave the account as we now have it, that he was killed in a tumult of the Volsci, and Fabius Pictor had written that he lived till old age[135]. Of the reliance to be placed on the events between the death of Coriolanus and the termination of the second Punic war, we may judge from the uncertainty which prevailed with regard to Scipio Africanus, a hero, of all others, the most distinguished, and who flourished, comparatively, at a recent period. Yet some of the most important events of his life are involved in contradiction and almost hopeless obscurity.—“Cicero,” says Berwick, in his Memoirs of Scipio, “speaks with great confidence of the year in which he died, yet Livy found so great a difference of opinion among historians on the subject, that he declares himself unable to ascertain it. From a fragment in Polybius, we learn, that, in his time, the authors who had written of Scipio were ignorant of some circumstances of his life, and mistaken in others; and, from Livy, it appears, that the accounts respecting his life, trial, death, funeral, and sepulchre, were so contradictory, that he was not able to determine what tradition, or whose writings, he ought to credit.”

But, although the early events of Roman history were of such a description, that Cicero and Atticus were not agreed concerning them—that Polybius could write nothing about them with confidence; and that Livy would neither undertake to affirm nor refute them, every vestige of Roman antiquity had not perished. Though the annals of the Pontiffs were destroyed,—those who wrote, who kept, and had read them, could not have lost all recollection of the facts they recorded. Even from the family memoirs, full of falsehoods as they were, much truth might have been extracted by a judicious and acute historian. The journals of different rival families must often have served as historical checks on each other, and much real information might have been gathered, by compar[pg 67]ing and contrasting the vain-glorious lies of those family-legends[136].

Such was the state of the materials for Roman history, in the middle of the sixth century, from the building of the city, at which time regular annals first began to be composed; and notwithstanding all unfavourable circumstances, much might have been done, even at that period, towards fixing and ascertaining the dates and circumstances of previous events, had the earliest annalist of Rome been in any degree fitted for this difficult and important task; but, unfortunately,

QUINTUS FABIUS PICTOR,

who first undertook to relate the affairs of Rome from its foundation, in a formal and regular order, and is thence called by Livy Scriptorum antiquissimus, appears to have been wretchedly qualified for the labour he had undertaken, either [pg 68]in point of fidelity or research: and to his carelessness and inaccuracy, more even than to the loss of monuments, may be attributed the painful uncertainty, which to this day hangs over the early ages of Roman history.

Fabius Pictor lived in the time of the second Punic war. The family received its cognomen from Caius Fabius, who, having resided in Etruria, and there acquired some knowledge of the fine arts, painted with figures the temple of Salus, in the year 450[137]. Pliny mentions having seen this piece of workmanship, which remained entire till the building itself was consumed, in the reign of the Emperor Claudius. The son of the painter rose to the highest honours of the state, having been Consul along with Ogulnius Gallus, in the year 485. From him sprung the historian, who was consequently grandson of the first Fabius Pictor. He was a provincial quæstor in early youth, and in 528 served under the Consul Lucius Æmilius, when sent to repel a formidable incursion of the Gauls, who, in that year, had passed the Alps in vast hordes. He also served in the second Punic war, which commenced in 534, and was present at the battle of Thrasymene. After the defeat at Cannæ, he was despatched by the senate to inquire from the oracle of Delphos, what would be the issue of the war, and to learn by what supplications the wrath of the gods might be appeased[138].

The Annals of Fabius Pictor commenced with the foundation of the city, and brought down the series of Roman affairs to the author’s own time—that is, to the end of the second Punic war. We are informed by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, that for the great proportion of events which preceded his own age, Fabius Pictor had no better authority than vulgar tradition[139]. He probably found, that if he had confined himself to what was certain in these early times, his history would have been dry, insipid, and incomplete. This may have induced him to adopt the fables, which the Greek historians had invented concerning the origin of Rome, and to insert whatever he found in the family traditions, however contradictory or uncertain. Dionysius has also given us many examples of his improbable narrations—his inconsistencies—his negligence in investigating the truth of what he relates as facts—and his inaccuracy in chronology. “I cannot refrain,” says he, when speaking of the age of Tarquinius Priscus, “from blaming Fabius Pictor for his little exactness in chronology[140];” and it appears from various other passages, that all the ancient his[pg 69]tory of Fabius which was not founded on hearsay, was taken from Greek authors, who had little opportunity of being informed of Roman affairs, and had supplied their deficiency in real knowledge, by the invention of fables. In particular, as we are told by Plutarch[141], he followed an obscure Greek author, Diocles the Peparethian, in his account of the foundation of Rome, and from this tainted source have flowed all the stories concerning Mars, the Vestal, the Wolf, Romulus, and Remus.

It is thus evident, that no great reliance can be placed on the history given by Fabius Pictor, of the events which preceded his own age, and which happened during a period of 500 years from the building of the city; but what must be considered as more extraordinary and lamentable, is, that although a senator, and of a distinguished family, he gave a prejudiced and inaccurate account of affairs occurring during the time he lived, and in the management of which he had some concern. Polybius, who flourished shortly after that time, and was at pains to inform himself accurately concerning all the events of the second Punic war, apologizes for quoting Fabius on one occasion as an authority. “It will perhaps be asked,” says he, “how I came to make mention of Fabius: It is not that I think his relation probable enough to deserve credit: What he writes is so absurd, and has so little appearance of truth, that the reader will easily remark, without my taking notice of it, the little reliance that is to be placed on that author, whose inconsistency is palpable of itself. It is, therefore, only to warn such as shall read his history, not to judge by the title of the book, but by the things it contains—for there are many people, who, considering the author more than what he writes, think themselves obliged to believe everything he says, because a senator and contemporary[142].” Polybius also accuses him of gross partiality to his own nation, in the account of the Punic war—allowing to the enemy no praise, even where they deserved it, and uncandidly aggravating their faults.[143] In particular, he charges him with falsehood in what he has delivered, with regard to the causes of the second contest with the Carthaginians. Fabius had alleged, that the covetousness of Hannibal, which he inherited from Asdrubal, and his desire of ultimately ruling over his own country, to which he conceived a Roman war to be a necessary step, were the chief causes of renewing hostilities, to which the Carthaginian government was totally averse. Now, Po[pg 70]lybius asks him, if this were true, why the Carthaginian Senate did not deliver up their general, as was required, after the capture of Saguntum; and why they supported him, during fourteen years continuance in Italy, with frequent supplies of money, and immense reinforcements[144].

The sentiments expressed by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, concerning Fabius Pictor’s relation of events, in the early ages of Rome, and those of Polybius[145], on the occurrences of which he was himself an eye-witness, enable us to form a pretty accurate estimate of the credit due to his whole history. Dionysius having himself written on the antiquities of Rome, was competent to deliver an opinion as to the works of those who had preceded him in the same undertaking; and it would rather have been favourable to the general view which he has adopted, to have established the credibility of Fabius. We may also safely rely on the judgment which Polybius has passed, concerning this old annalist’s relation of the events of the age in which he lived, since Polybius had spared no pains to be thoroughly informed of whatever could render his own account of them complete and unexceptionable.

The opinion which must now be naturally formed from the sentiments entertained by these two eminent historians, is rather confirmed by the few and unconnected fragments that remain of the Annals of Fabius Pictor, as they exhibit a spirit of trifling and credulity quite unworthy the historian of a great republic. One passage is about a person who saw a magpie; another about a man who had a message brought to him by a swallow; and a third concerning a party of loup garous, who, after being transformed into wolves, recovered their own figures, and, what is more, got back their cast-off clothes, provided they had abstained for nine years from preying on human flesh!

Such were the merits of the earliest annalist of Rome, whom all succeeding historians of the state copied as far as he had proceeded, or at least implicitly followed as their authority and guide in facts and chronology. Unfortunately, his character as a senator, and an eye-witness of many of the events he recorded, gave the stamp of authenticity to his work, which it did not intrinsically deserve to have impressed on it. His successors accordingly, instead of giving themselves the pains to clear up the difficulties with which the history of former ages was embarrassed, and which would have led into long and laborious discussions, preferred reposing on the authority of Fabius. They copied him on the ancient times, without even consulting the few monuments that remained, and then contented themselves with adding the transactions subsequent to the period which his history comprehends. Thus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus[146] informs us that Cincius, Cato the Censor, Calpurnius Piso, and most of the other historians who succeeded him, implicitly adopted Fabius’ story of the birth and education of Romulus; and he adds many glaring instances of the little discernment they showed in following him on points where, by a little investigation, they might have discovered how egregiously he had erred. Even Livy himself admits, that his own account of the second Punic war was chiefly founded on the relations of Fabius Pictor[147].

This ancient and dubious annalist was succeeded by Scribonius Libo, and by Calpurnius Piso. Libo served under Ser. Galba in Spain, and on his return to Rome impeached his commander for some act of treachery towards the natives of that province. Piso was Consul along with Mucius Scævola in 620, the year in which Tib. Gracchus was slain. Like Fabius, he wrote Annals of Rome, from the beginning of the state, which Cicero pronounces to be exiliter scripti[148]: But although his style was jejune, he is called a profound writer, gravis auctor, by Pliny[149]; and Au. Gellius says, that there is an agreeable simplicity in some parts of his work—the brevity which displeased Cicero appearing to him simplicissima suavitas et rei et orationis[150]. He relates an anecdote of Romulus, who, being abroad at supper, drank little wine, because he was to be occupied with important affairs on the following day. One of the other guests remarked, “that if all men did as he, wine would be cheap.”—“No,” replied Romulus, “I [pg 72]have drunk as much as I liked, and wine would be dearer than it is now if every one did the same.” This annalist first suggested Varro’s famous derivation of the word Italy, which he deduced from Vitulus. He is also frequently quoted by Plutarch and Dionysius of Halicarnassus[151]. Niebuhr thinks, that of all the Roman annalists he is chiefly responsible for having introduced into history the fables of the ancient heroic ballads[152].

About the same time with Piso, lived two historians, who were both called Caius Fannius, and were nearly related to each other. One of them was son-in-law of Lælius, and served under the younger Scipio at the final reduction of Carthage. Of him Cicero speaks favourably, though his style was somewhat harsh[153]; but his chief praise is, that Sallust, in mentioning the Latin historians, while he gives to Cato the palm for conciseness, awards it to Fannius for accuracy in facts[154]. Heeren also mentions, that he was the authority chiefly followed by Plutarch in his lives of the Gracchi[155].

Cœlius Antipater was contemporary with the Gracchi, and was the master of Lucius Crassus, the celebrated orator, and other eminent men of the day. We learn from Valerius Maximus, that he was the authority for the story of the shade of Tiberius Gracchus having appeared to his brother Caius in a dream, to warn him that he would suffer the same fate which he had himself experienced[156]; and the historian testifies that he had heard of this vision from many persons during the lifetime of Caius Gracchus. The chief subject of Antipater’s history, which was dedicated to Lælius, consisted in the events that occurred during the second Punic war. Cicero says, that he was for his age Scriptor luculentus[157]; that he raised himself considerably above his predecessors, and gave a more lofty tone to history; but he seems to think that the utmost [pg 73]praise to which he was entitled, is, that he excelled those who preceded him, for still he possessed but little eloquence or learning, and his style was yet unpolished. Valerius Maximus, however, calls him an authentic writer, (certus auctor[158];) and the Emperor Hadrian thought him superior to Sallust, consistently with that sort of black-letter taste which led him to prefer Cato the Censor to Cicero, and Ennius to Virgil[159].

Sempronius Asellio served as military tribune under the younger Scipio Africanus, in the war of Numantia[160], which began in 614, and ended in 621, with the destruction of that city. He wrote the history of the campaigns in which he fought under Scipio, in Spain, in at least 40 books, since the 40th is cited by Charisius. His work, however, was not written for a considerable time after the events he recorded had happened: That he wrote subsequently to Antipater, we have the authority of Cicero, who says “that Cœlius Antipater was succeeded by Asellio, who did not imitate his improvements, but relapsed into the dulness and unskilfulness of the earliest historians[161].” This does not at all appear to have been Asellio’s own opinion, as, from a passage extracted by Aulus Gellius from the first book of his Annals, he seems to have considered himself as the undisputed father of philosophic history[162].

Quintus Lutatius Catulus, better known as an accomplished orator than a historian, was Consul along with Marius in the year 651, and shared with him in his distinguished triumph over the Cimbrians. Though once united in the strictest friendship, these old colleagues quarrelled at last, during the civil war with Sylla; and Catulus, it is said, in order to avoid the emissaries despatched by the unrelenting Marius, to put him to death, shut himself up in a room newly plastered, and having kindled a fire, was suffocated by the noxious vapours. He wrote the history of his own consulship, and the various public transactions in which he had been engaged, particularly the war with the Cimbrians. Cicero[163], who has spoken so disadvantageously of the style of the older annalists, admits that Catulus wrote very pure Latin, and that his language had some resemblance to the sweetness of Xenophon.

Q. Claudius Quadrigarius composed Annals of Rome in twenty-four books, which, though now almost entirely lost, were in existence as late as the end of the 12th century, being referred to by John of Salisbury in his book De Nugis Curialibus. Some passages, however, are still preserved, [pg 74]particularly the account of the defiance by the gigantic Gaul, adorned with a chain, to the whole Roman army, and his combat with Titus Manlius, afterwards sirnamed Torquatus, from this chain which he took from his antagonist. “Who the enemy was,” says Au. Gellius, “of how great and formidable stature, how audacious the challenge, and in what kind of battle they fought, Q. Claudius has told with much purity and elegance, and in the simple unadorned sweetness of ancient language[164].”

There is likewise extant from these Annals the story of the Consul Q. Fabius Maximus making his father, who was then Proconsul, alight from his horse when he came out to meet him. We have also the letter of the Roman Consuls, Fabricius and Q. Emilius, to Pyrrhus, informing him of the treachery of his confident, Nicias, who had offered to the Romans to make away with his master for a reward. It merits quotation, as a fine example of ancient dignity and simplicity.—“Nos, pro tuis injuriis, continuo animo, strenue commoti, inimiciter tecum bellare studemus. Sed communis exempli et fidei ergo visum est, uti te salvum velimus; ut esset quem armis vincere possimus. Ad nos venit Nicias familiaris tuus, qui sibi pretium a nobis peteret, si te clam interfecisset: Id nos negavimus velle; neve ob eam rem quidquam commodi expectaret: Et simul visum est, ut te certiorem faceremus, nequid ejusmodi, si accidisset, nostro consilio putares factum: et, quid nobis non placet, pretio, aut premio, aut dolis pugnare.”—The Annals of Quadrigarius must at least have brought down the history to the civil wars of Marius and Sylla, since, in the nineteenth book, the author details the circumstances of the defence of the Piræus against Sylla, by Archelaus, the prefect of Mithridates. As to the style of these annals, Aulus Gellius reports, that they were written in a conversational manner[165].

Quintus Valerius Antias also left Annals, which must have formed an immense work, since Priscian cites the seventy-fourth book. They commenced with the foundation of the city; but their accuracy cannot be relied on, as the author was much addicted to exaggeration. Livy, mentioning, on the authority of Antias, a victory gained by the Proconsul Q. Minucius, adds, while speaking of the number of slain on the part of the enemy, “Little faith can be given to this author, as no one was ever more intemperate in such exaggerations;” and Aulus Gellius mentions a circumstance which he had affirmed, contrary to the records of the Tribunes, and the [pg 75]authors of the ancient Annals[166]. This history also seems to have been stuffed with the most absurd and superstitious fables. A nonsensical tale is told with regard to the manner in which Numa procured thunder from Jupiter; and stories are likewise related about the conflagration of the lake Thrasimene, before the defeat of the Roman Consul, and the flame which played round the head of Servius Tullius in his childhood. It also appears from him, that the Romans had judicial trials, as horrible as those of the witches which disgraced our criminal record. Q. Nævius, before setting out for Sardinia, held Questions of incantation through the towns of Italy, and condemned to death, apparently without much investigation, not less than two thousand persons. This annalist denies, in another passage, the well-known story of the continence of Scipio, and alleges that the lady whom he is generally said to have restored to her lover, was “in deliciis amoribusque usurpata[167].” His opinion of the moral character of Scipio seems founded on some satirical verses of Nævius, with regard to a low intrigue in which he was detected in his youth. But whatever his private amours may have been, it does not follow that he was incapable of a signal exertion of generosity and continence in the presence of his army, and with the eyes of two great rival nations fixed upon his conduct.

Licinius Macer, father of Licin. Calvus, the distinguished poet and orator formerly mentioned[168], was author of Annals, entitled Libri Rerum Romanarum. In the course of these he frequently quotes the Libri Lintei. He was not considered as a very impartial historian, and, in particular, he is accused by Livy of inventing stories to throw lustre over his own family.

L. Cornelius Sisenna was the friend of Macer, and coeval with Antias and Quadrigarius; but he far excelled his contemporaries, as well as predecessors, in the art of historical narrative. He was of the same family as Sylla, the dictator, and was descended from that Sisenna who was Prætor in 570. In his youth he practised as an orator, and is characterized by Cicero as a man of learning and wit, but of no great industry or knowledge in business[169]. In more advanced life he was Prætor of Achaia, and a friend of Atticus. Vossius says his history commenced after the taking of Rome by the Gauls, and ended with the wars of Marius and Sylla. Now, it is possible that he may have given some sketch of Roman affairs from the burning of the city by the Gauls, but it is evident he [pg 76]had touched slightly on these early portions of the history, for though his work consisted of twenty, or, according to others, of twenty-two books, it appears from a fragment of the second, which is still preserved, that he had there advanced in his narrative as far as the Social War, which broke out in the year 663. The greater part, therefore, I suspect, was devoted to the history of the civil wars of Marius; and indeed Velleius Paterculus calls his work Opus Belli Civilis Sullani[170]. The great defect of his history consisted, it is said, in not being written with sufficient political freedom, at least concerning the character and conduct of Sylla, which is regretted by Sallust in a passage bearing ample testimony to the merits of Sisenna in other particulars.—“L. Sisenna,” says he, “optume et diligentissime omnium, qui eas res dixere persecutus, parum mihi libero ore locutus videtur[171].” Cicero, while he admits his superiority over his predecessors, adds, that he was far from perfection[172], and complains that there was something puerile in his Annals, as if he had studied none of the Greek historians but Clitarchus[173]. I have quoted these opinions, since we must now entirely trust to the sentiments of others, in the judgment which we form of the merits of Sisenna; for although the fragments which remain of his history are more numerous than those of any other old Latin annalist, being about 150, they are also shorter and more unconnected. Indeed, there are scarcely two sentences anywhere joined together.

The great defect, then, imputed to the class of annalists above enumerated, is the meagerness of their relations, which are stript of all ornament of style—of all philosophic observation on the springs or consequences of action—and all characteristic painting of the actors themselves. That they often perverted the truth of history, to dignify the name of their country at the expense of its foes, is a fault common to them with many national historians—that they sometimes exalted one political faction or chief to depreciate another, was almost unavoidable amid the anarchy and civil discord of Rome—that they were credulous in the extreme, in their relations of portents and prodigies, is a blemish from which their greater successors were not exempted: The easy faith of Livy is well known. Even the philosophic Tacitus seems to give credit to those presages, which darkly announced the fate of men and empires; and Julius Obsequens, a grave writer in the most enlightened age of Rome, collected in one [pg 77]work all the portents observed from its foundation to the age of Augustus.

The period in which the ancient annalists flourished, also produced several biographical works; and these being lives of men distinguished in the state, may be ranked in the number of histories.

Lucius Emilius Scaurus, who was born in 591, and died in 666, wrote memoirs of his own life, which Tacitus says were accounted faithful and impartial. They are unfortunately lost, but their matter may be conjectured from the well-known incidents of the life of Scaurus. They embraced a very eventful period, and were written without any flagrant breach of truth. We learn from Cicero, that these memoirs, however useful and instructive, were little read, even in his days, though his contemporaries carefully studied the Cyropædia; a work, as he continues, no doubt sufficiently elegant, but not so connected with our affairs, nor in any respect to be preferred to the merits of Scaurus[174].

Rutilius Rufus, who was Consul in the year 649, also wrote memoirs of his own life. He was a man of very different character from Scaurus, being of distinguished probity in every part of his conduct, and possessing, as we are informed by Cicero, something almost of sanctity in his demeanour. All this did not save him from an unjust exile, to which he was condemned, and which he passed in tranquillity at Smyrna. These biographical memoirs being lost, we know their merits only from the commendations of Livy[175], Plutarch[176], Velleius Paterculus[177], and Valerius Maximus[178]. As the author served under Scipio in Spain—under Scævola in Asia, and under Metellus in his campaign against Jugurtha, the loss of this work is severely to be regretted.

But the want of Sylla’s Memoirs of his own Life, and of the affairs in which he had himself been engaged, is still more deeply to be lamented than the loss of those of Scaurus or Rutilius Rufus. These memoirs were meant to have been dedicated to Lucullus, on condition that he should arrange and correct them[179]. Sylla was employed on them the evening before his death, and concluded them by relating, that on the [pg 78]preceding night he had seen in a dream one of his children, who had died a short while before, and who, stretching out his hand, showed to him his mother Metella, and exhorted him forthwith to leave the cares of life, and hasten to enjoy repose along with them in the bosom of eternal rest. “Thus,” adds the author, who accounted nothing so certain as what was signified to him in dreams, “I finish my days, as was predicted to me by the Chaldeans, who announced that I should surmount envy itself by my glory, and should have the good fortune to fall in the full blossom of my prosperity[180].” These memoirs were sent by Epicadus, the freedman of Sylla, to Lucullus, in order that he might put to them the finishing hand. If preserved, they would have thrown much light on the most important affairs of Roman history, as they proceeded from the person who must, of all others, have been the best informed concerning them. They are quoted by Plutarch as authority for many curious facts, as—that in the great battle by which the Cimbrian invasion was repelled, the chief execution was done in that quarter where Sylla was stationed; the main body, under Marius, having been misled by a cloud of dust, and having in consequence wandered about for a long time without finding the enemy[181]. Plutarch also mentions that, in these Commentaries, the author contradicted the current story of his seeking refuge during a tumult at the commencement of the civil wars with Marius, in the house of his rival, who, it had been reported, sheltered and dismissed him in safety. Besides their importance for the history of events, the Memoirs of Sylla must have been highly interesting, as developing, in some degree, the most curious character in Roman history. “In the loss of his Memoirs,” says Blackwell, in his usual inflated style, “the strongest draught of human passions, in the highest wheels of fortune and sallies of power, is for ever vanished[182].” The character of Cæsar, though greater, was less incomprehensible than that of Sylla; and the mind of Augustus, though unfathomable to his contemporaries, has been sounded by the long line of posterity; but it is difficult to analyse the disposition which inspired the inconsistent conduct of Sylla. Gorged with power, and blood, and vengeance, he seems to have retired from what he chiefly coveted, as if surfeited; but neither this retreat, nor old age, could mollify his heart; nor could disease, or the approach of death, or the remembrance of his past life, disturb his tranquillity. No part of his existence was more strange than its termination; and nothing can be more [pg 79]singular than that he, who, on the day of his decease, caused in mere wantonness a provincial magistrate to be strangled in his presence, should, the night before, have enjoyed a dream so elevated and tender. It is probable that the Memoirs were well written, in point of style, as Sylla loved the arts and sciences, and was even a man of some learning, though Cæsar is reported to have said, on hearing his literary acquirements extolled, that he must have been but an indifferent scholar who had resigned a dictatorship.

The characteristic of most of the annals and memoirs which I have hitherto mentioned, was extreme conciseness. Satisfied with collecting a mass of facts, their authors adopted a style which, in the later ages of Rome, became proverbially meagre and jejune. Cicero includes Claudius Quadrigarius and Asellio in the same censure which he passes on their predecessors, Fabius Pictor, Piso, and Fannius. But though, perhaps, equally barren in style, much greater trust and reliance may be placed on the annalists of the time of Marius and Sylla than of the second Punic war.

Some of these more modern annalists wrote the History of Rome from the commencement of the state; others took up the relation from the burning of Rome by the Gauls, or confined themselves to events which had occurred in their own time. Their narratives of all that passed before the incursion of the Gauls, were indeed as little authentic as the relations of Fabius Pictor, since they implicitly followed that writer, and made no new researches into the mouldering monuments of their country. But their accounts of what happened subsequently to the rebuilding of Rome, are not liable to the same suspicion and uncertainty; the public monuments and records having, from that period, been duly preserved, and having been in greater abundance than those of almost any other nation in the history of the world. The Roman authors possessed all the auxiliaries which aid historical compilation—decrees of the senate, chiefly pronounced in affairs of state—leagues with friendly nations—terms of the surrender of cities—tables of triumphs, and treaties, which were carefully preserved in the treasury or in temples. There were even rolls kept of the senators and knights, as also of the number of the legions and ships employed in each war; but the public despatches addressed to the Senate by commanders of armies, of which we have specimens in Cicero’s Epistles, were the documents which must have chiefly aided historical composition. These were probably accurate, as the Senate, and people in general, were too well versed in military affairs to have been easily deluded, and legates were often commissioned by them [pg 80]to ascertain the truth of the relations. The immense multitude of such documents is evinced by the fact, that Vespasian, when restoring the Capitol, found in its ruins not fewer than 3000 brazen tablets, containing decrees of the Senate and people, concerning leagues, associations, and immunities to whomsoever granted, from an early period of the state, and which Suetonius justly styles, instrumentum imperii pulcherrimum ac vetustissimum[183]. Accordingly, when the later annalists came to write of the affairs of their own time, they found historical documents more full and satisfactory than those of almost any other country. But, in addition to these copious sources of information, it will be remarked, that the annalists themselves had often personal knowledge of the facts they related. It is true, indeed, that historians contemporary with the events which they record, are not always best qualified to place them in an instructive light, since, though they may understand how they spring out of prior incidents, they cannot foresee their influence on future occurrences. Of some things, the importance is overrated, and of others undervalued, till time, which has the same effect on events as distance on external objects, obscures all that is minute, while it renders the outlines of what is vast more distinct and perceptible. But though the reach of a contemporary historian’s mind may not extend to the issue of the drama which passes before him, he is no doubt best aware of the detached incidents of each separate scene and act, and most fitted to detail those particulars which posterity may combine into a mass, exhibiting at one view the grandeur and interest of the whole. Now, it will have been remarked from the preceding pages, that all the Roman annalists, from the time of Fabius Pictor to Sylla, were Consuls and Prætors, commanders of armies, or heads of political parties, and consequently the principal sharers in the events which they recorded. In Greece, there was an earlier separation than at Rome, between an active and a speculative life. Many of the Greek historians had little part in those transactions, the remembrance of which they have transmitted. They wrote at a distance, as it were, from the scene of affairs, so that they contemplated the wars and dissensions of their countrymen with the unprejudiced eye of a foreigner, or of posterity. This naturally diffuses a calm philosophic spirit over the page of the historian, and gives abundant scope for conjecture concerning the motives and springs of action. The Roman annalists, on the other hand, wrote from perfect knowledge and remembrance; they were the persons who had plan[pg 81]ned and executed every project; they had fought the battles they described, or excited the war, the vicissitudes of which they recorded. Hence the facts which their pages disclosed, might have borne the genuine stamp of truth, and the analysis of the motives and causes of actions might have been absolute revelations. Yet, under these, the most favourable circumstances for historic composition, prejudices from which the Greek historians were exempt, would unconsciously creep in: Writers like Sylla or Æmilius Scaurus, had much to extenuate, and strong temptations to set down much in malice[184].

Nor is it always sufficient to have witnessed a great event in order to record it well, and with that fulness which converts it into a lesson in legislation, ethics, or politics. Now, the Roman annals had hitherto been chiefly a dry register of facts, what Lord Bolingbroke calls the Nuntia Vetustatis, or Gazette of Antiquity. A history properly so termed, and when considered as opposed to such productions, forms a complete series of transactions, accompanied by a deduction of their immediate and remote causes, and of the consequences by which they were attended,—all related, in their full extent, with such detail of circumstances as transports us back to the very time, makes us parties to the counsels, and actors, as it were, in the whole scene of affairs. It is then alone that history becomes the magistra vitæ; and in this sense

SALLUST

has been generally considered as the first among the Romans who merited the title of historian. This celebrated writer was born at Amiternum, in the territory of the Sabines, in the year 668. He received his education at Rome, and, in his early youth, appears to have been desirous to devote himself to literary pursuits. But it was not easy for one residing in the capital to escape the contagious desire of military or political distinction. At the age of twenty-seven, he obtained the situation of Quæstor, which entitled him to a seat in the Senate, and about six years afterwards he was elected Tribune of the people. While in this office, he attached himself to the fortunes of Cæsar, and along with one of his colleagues in the tribunate, conducted the prosecution against Milo for the murder of Clodius. In the year 704, he was excluded from the Senate, on pretext of immoral conduct, but more probably [pg 82]from the violence of the patrician party, to which he was opposed. Aulus Gellius, on the authority of Varro’s treatise, Pius aut de Pace, informs us that he incurred this disgrace in consequence of being surprised in an intrigue with Fausta, the wife of Milo, by the husband, who made him be scourged by his slaves[185]. It has been doubted, however, by modern critics, whether it was the historian Sallust who was thus detected and punished, or his nephew, Crispus Sallustius, to whom Horace has addressed the second ode of the second book. It seems, indeed, unlikely, that in such a corrupt age, an amour with a woman of Fausta’s abandoned character, should have been the real cause of his expulsion from the Senate. After undergoing this ignominy, which, for the present, baffled all his hopes of preferment, he quitted Rome, and joined his patron, Cæsar, in Gaul. He continued to follow the fortunes of that commander, and, in particular bore a share in the expedition to Africa, where the scattered remains of Pompey’s party had united. That region being finally subdued, Sallust was left by Cæsar as Prætor of Numidia; and about the same time he married Terentia, the divorced wife of Cicero. He remained only a year in his government, but during that period he enriched himself by despoiling the province. On his return to Rome, he was accused by the Numidians, whom he had plundered, but escaped with impunity, by means of the protection of Cæsar, and was quietly permitted to betake himself to a luxurious retirement with his ill-gotten wealth. He chose for his favourite retreat a villa at Tibur, which had belonged to Cæsar; and he also built a magnificent palace in the suburbs of Rome, surrounded by delightful pleasure-grounds, which were afterwards well known and celebrated by the name of the Gardens of Sallust. One front of this splendid mansion faced the street, where he constructed a spacious market-place, in which every article of luxury was sold in abundance. The other front looked to the gardens, which were contiguous to those of Lucullus, and occupied the valley between the extremities of the Quirinal and Pincian Hills[186]. They lay, in the time of Sallust, immediately beyond the walls of Rome, but were included within the new wall of Aurelian. In them every beauty of nature, and every embellishment of art, that could delight or gratify the senses, seem to have been assembled. Umbrageous walks, open parterres, and cool porticos, displayed their various attractions. Amidst shrubs and flowers of every hue and odour, interspersed with statues of the most exquisite workmanship, pure streams of [pg 83]water preserved the verdure of the earth and the temperature of the air; and while, on the one hand, the distant prospect caught the eye, on the other, the close retreat invited to repose or meditation[187]. These gardens included within their precincts the most magnificent baths, a temple to Venus, and a circus, which Sallust repaired and ornamented. Possessed of such attractions, the Sallustian palace and gardens became, after the death of their original proprietor, the residence of successive emperors. Augustus chose them as the scene of his most sumptuous entertainments. The taste of Vespasian preferred them to the palace of the Cæsars. Even the virtuous Nerva, and stern Aurelian, were so attracted by their beauty, that, while at Rome, they were their constant abode. “The palace,” says Eustace, “was consumed by fire on the fatal night when Alaric entered the city. The temple, of singular beauty, sacred to Venus, was discovered about the middle of the sixteenth century, in opening the grounds of a garden, and was destroyed for the sale of the materials: Of the circus little remains, but masses of walls that merely indicate its site; while statues and marbles, found occasionally, continue to furnish proofs of its former magnificence[188].” Many statues of exquisite workmanship have been found on the same spot; but these may have been placed there by the magnificence of the imperial occupiers, and not of the original proprietor.

In his urban gardens, or villa at Tibur, Sallust passed the close of his life, dividing his time between literary avocations and the society of his friends—among whom he numbered Lucullus, Messala, and Cornelius Nepos.

Such having been his friends and studies, it seems highly improbable that he indulged in that excessive libertinism which has been attributed to him, on the erroneous supposition that he was the Sallust mentioned by Horace, in the first book of his Satires[189]. The subject of Sallust’s character is one which has excited some investigation and interest, and on which very different opinions have been formed. That he was a man of loose morals is evident; and it cannot be denied that he rapaciously plundered his province, like other Roman governors of the day. But it seems doubtful if he was that monster of iniquity he has been sometimes represented. He was extremely unfortunate in the first permanent notice taken of his character by his contemporaries. The decided enemy of Pompey and his faction, he had said of that celebrated chief, in his general history, that he was a man “oris probi, animo [pg 84]inverecundo.” Lenæus, the freedman of Pompey, avenged his master, by the most virulent abuse of his enemy[190], in a work, which should rather be regarded as a frantic satire than an historical document. Of the injustice which he had done to the life of the historian we may, in some degree, judge, from what he said of him as an author. He called him, as we learn from Suetonius, “Nebulonem, vitâ scriptisque monstrosum: præterea, priscorum Catonisque ineruditissimum furem.” The life of Sallust, by Asconius Pedianus, which was written in the age of Augustus, and might have acted, in the present day, as a corrective, or palliative, of the unfavourable impression produced by this injurious libel, has unfortunately perished; and the next work on the subject now extant, is a professed rhetorical declamation against the character of Sallust, which was given to the world in the name of Cicero, but was not written till long after the death of that orator, and is now generally assigned by critics, to a rhetorician, in the reign of Claudius, called Porcius Latro. The calumnies invented or exaggerated by Lenæus, and propagated in the scholiastic theme of Porcius Latro, have been adopted by Le Clerc, professor of Hebrew at Amsterdam, and by Professor Meisner, of Prague[191], in their respective accounts of the Life of Sallust. His character has received more justice from the prefatory Memoir and Notes of De Brosses, his French translator, and from the researches of Wieland in Germany.

From what has been above said of Fabius Pictor, and his immediate successors, it must be apparent, that the art of historic composition at Rome was in the lowest state, and that Sallust had no model to imitate among the writers of his own country. He therefore naturally recurred to the productions of the Greek historians. The native exuberance, and loquacious familiarity of Herodotus, were not adapted to his taste; and simplicity, such as that of Xenophon, is, of all things, the most difficult to attain: He therefore chiefly emulated Thucydides, and attempted to transplant into his own language the vigour and conciseness of the Greek historian; but the strict imitation, with which he has followed him, has gone far to lessen the effect of his own original genius.

The first book of Sallust was the Conspiracy of Catiline. There exists, however, some doubt as to the precise period of its composition. The general opinion is, that it was written immediately after the author went out of office as Tribune of the People, that is, in the year 703: And the composition of the Jugurthine War, as well as of his general history, are fixed [pg 85]by Le Clerc between that period and his appointment to the Prætorship of Numidia. But others have supposed that they were all written during the space which intervened between his return from Numidia, in 708, and his death, which happened in 718, four years previous to the battle of Actium. It is maintained by the supporters of this last idea, that he was too much engaged in political tumults previous to his administration of Numidia, to have leisure for such important compositions—that, in the introduction to Catiline’s Conspiracy, he talks of himself as withdrawn from public affairs, and refutes accusations of his voluptuous life, which were only applicable to this period; and that, while instituting the comparison between Cæsar and Cato, he speaks of the existence and competition of these celebrated opponents as things that had passed over—“Sed mea memoria, ingenti virtute, diversis moribus, fuere viri duo, Marcus Cato et Caius Cæsar.” On this passage, too, Gibbon in particular argues, that such a flatterer and party tool as Sallust would not, during the life of Cæsar, have put Cato so much on a level with him in the comparison instituted between them. De Brosses agrees with Le Clerc in thinking that the Conspiracy of Catiline at least must have been written immediately after 703, as Sallust would not, subsequently to his marriage with Terentia, have commemorated the disgrace of her sister, for she, it seems, was the vestal virgin whose intrigue with Catiline is recorded by our historian. But whatever may be the fact as to Catiline’s Conspiracy, it is quite clear that the Jugurthine War was written subsequent to the author’s residence in Numidia, which evidently suggested to him this theme, and afforded him the means of collecting the information necessary for completing his work.

The subjects chosen by Sallust form two of the most important and prominent topics in the history of Rome. The periods, indeed, which he describes, were painful, but they were interesting. Full of conspiracies, usurpations, and civil wars, they chiefly exhibit the mutual rage and iniquity of embittered factions, furious struggles between the patricians and plebeians, open corruption in the senate, venality in the courts of justice, and rapine in the provinces. This state of things, so forcibly painted by Sallust, produced the Conspiracy, and even in some degree formed the character of Catiline: But it was the oppressive debts of individuals, the temper of Sylla’s soldiers, and the absence of Pompey with his army, which gave a possibility, and even prospect of success to a plot which affected the vital existence of the commonwealth, and which, although arrested in its commencement, was one of those violent shocks which hasten the fall of a state. The [pg 86]History of the Jugurthine War, if not so important or menacing to the vital interests and immediate safety of Rome, exhibits a more extensive field of action, and a greater theatre of war. No prince, except Mithridates, gave so much employment to the arms of the Romans. In the course of no war in which they had ever been engaged, not even the second Carthaginian, were the people more desponding, and in none were they more elated with ultimate success. Nothing can be more interesting than the account of the vicissitudes of this contest. The endless resources, and hair-breadth escapes of Jugurtha—his levity, his fickle faithless disposition, contrasted with the perseverance and prudence of the Roman commander, Metellus, are all described in a manner the most vivid and picturesque.

Sallust had attained the age of twenty-two when the conspiracy of Catiline broke out, and was an eyewitness of the whole proceedings. He had therefore, sufficient opportunity of recording with accuracy and truth the progress and termination of the conspiracy. Sallust has certainly acquired the praise of a veracious historian, and I do not know that he has been detected in falsifying any fact within the sphere of his knowledge. Indeed there are few historical compositions of which the truth can be proved on such evidence as the Conspiracy of Catiline. The facts detailed in the orations of Cicero, though differing in some minute particulars, coincide in everything of importance, and highly contribute to illustrate and verify the work of the historian. But Sallust lived too near the period of which he treated, and was too much engaged in the political tumults of the day, to give a faithful account, unvarnished by animosity or predilection; he could not have raised himself above all hopes, fears, and prejudices, and therefore could not in all their extent have fulfilled the duties of an impartial writer. A contemporary historian of such turbulent times would be apt to exaggerate through adulation, or conceal through fear, to instil the precepts not of the philosopher but partizan, and colour facts into harmony with his own system of patriotism or friendship. An obsequious follower of Cæsar, he has been accused of a want of candour in varnishing over the views of his patron; yet I have never been able to persuade myself that Cæsar was deeply engaged in the conspiracy of Catiline, or that a person of his prudence should have leagued with such rash associates, or followed so desperate an adventurer. But the chief objection urged against Sallust’s impartiality, is the feeble and apparently reluctant commendation which he bestows on Cicero, who is now acknowledged to have been the principal actor in detecting and [pg 87]frustrating the conspiracy. Though fond of displaying his talent for drawing characters, he exercises none of it on Cicero, whom he merely terms “homo egregius et optumus Consul,” which was but cold applause for one who had saved the commonwealth. It is true, that, in the early part of the history, praise, though sparingly bestowed, is not absolutely withheld. The election of Cicero to the Consulship is fairly attributed to the high opinion entertained of his capacity, which overcame the disadvantage of his obscure birth. The mode adopted for gaining over one of Catiline’s accomplices, and fixing his own wavering and disaffected colleague,—the dexterity manifested in seizing the Allobrogian deputies with the letters, and the irresistible effect produced, by confronting them with the conspirators, are attributed exclusively to Cicero. It is in the conclusion of these great transactions that the historian withholds from him his due share of applause, and contrives to eclipse him by always interposing the character of Cato, though it could not be unknown to any witness of the proceedings that Cato himself, and other senators, publicly hailed the Consul as the Father of his country, and that a public thanksgiving to the gods was decreed in his name, for having preserved the city from conflagration, and the citizens from massacre[192]. This omission, which may have originated partly in enmity, and partly in disgust at the ill-disguised vanity of the Consul, has in all times been regarded as the chief defect, and even stain, in the history of the Catilinarian conspiracy.

Although not an eye-witness of the war with Jugurtha Sallust’s situation as Prætor of Numidia, which suggested the composition, was favourable to the authority of the work, by affording opportunity of collecting materials and procuring information. He examined into the different accounts, written as well as traditionary, concerning the history of Africa[193], particularly the documents preserved in the archives of King Hiempsal, which he caused to be translated for his own use, and which proved peculiarly serviceable for his detailed description of the continent and inhabitants of Africa. He has been accused of showing, in this history, an undue partiality towards the character of Marius, and giving, for the sake of his favourite leader, an unfair account of the massacre at [pg 88]Vacca. But he appears to me to do even more than ample justice to Metellus, as he represents the war as almost finished by him previous to the arrival of Marius, though it was, in fact, far from being concluded.

Veracity and fidelity are the chief, and, indeed, the indispensable duties of an historian. Of all the ornaments of historic composition, it derives its chief embellishment from a graceful and perspicuous style. That of the early annalists, as we have already seen, was inelegant and jejune; but style came to be considered, in the progress of history, as a matter of primary importance. It is unfortunate, perhaps, that so much value was at length attached to it, since the ancient historians seldom gave their authorities, and considered the excellence of history as consisting in fine writing, more than in an accurate detail of facts. Sallust evidently regarded an elegant style as one of the chief merits of an historical work. His own style, on which he took so much pains, was carefully formed on that of Thucydides, whose manner of writing was in a great measure original, and, till the time of Sallust, peculiar to himself. The Roman has wonderfully succeeded in imitating the vigour and conciseness of the Greek historian, and infusing into his composition something of that dignified austerity, which distinguishes the works of his great model; but when I say that Sallust has imitated the conciseness of Thucydides, I mean the rapid and compressed manner in which his narrative is conducted,—in short, brevity of idea, rather than language. For Thucydides, although he brings forward only the principal idea, and discards what is collateral, yet frequently employs long and involved periods. Sallust, on the other hand, is abrupt and sententious, and is generally considered as having carried this sort of brevity to a vicious excess. The use of copulatives, either for the purpose of connecting his sentences with each other, or uniting the clauses of the same sentence, is in a great measure rejected. This omission produces a monotonous effect, and a total want of that flow and that variety, which are the principal charms of the historic period. Seneca accordingly talks of the “Amputatæ sententiæ, et verba ante expectatum cadentia[194],” which the practice of Sallust had rendered fashionable. Lord Monboddo calls his style incoherent, and declares that there is not one of his short and uniform sentences which deserves the name of a period; so that supposing each sentence were in itself beautiful, there is not variety enough to constitute fine writing.

It was, perhaps, partly in imitation of Thucydides, that Sallust introduced into his history a number of words almost considered as obsolete, and which were selected from the works of the older authors of Rome, particularly Cato the Censor. It is on this point he has been chiefly attacked by Pollio, in his letters to Plancus. He has also been taxed with the opposite vice, of coining new words, and introducing Greek idioms; but the severity of judgment which led him to imitate the ancient and austere dignity of style, made him reject those sparkling ornaments of composition, which were beginning to infect the Roman taste, in consequence of the increasing popularity of the rhetoric schools of declamation, and the more frequent intercourse with Asia. On the whole, in the style of Sallust, there is too much appearance of study, and a want of that graceful ease, which is generally the effect of art, but in which art is nowhere discovered. The opinion of Sir J. Checke, as reported by Ascham in his Schoolmaster, contains a pretty accurate estimate of the merits of the style of Sallust. “Sir J. Checke said, that he could not recommend Sallust as a good pattern of style for young men, because in his writings there was more art than nature, and more labour than art; and in his labour, also, too much toil, as it were, with an uncontented care to write better than he could—a fault common to very many men. And, therefore, he doth not express the matter lively and naturally with common speech, as ye see Xenophon doth in Greek, but it is carried and driven forth artificially, after too learned a sort, as Thucydides doth in his orations. ‘And how cometh it to pass,’ said I, ‘that Cæsar’s and Cicero’s talk is so natural and plain, and Sallust’s writing so artificial and dark, when all the three lived in one time?’—‘I will freely tell you my fancy herein,’ said he; ‘Cæsar and Cicero, beside a singular prerogative of natural eloquence given unto them by God, were both, by use of life, daily orators among the common people, and greatest councillors in the Senate-house; and therefore gave themselves to use such speech as the meanest should well understand, and the wisest best allow, following carefully that good council of Aristotle, Loquendum ut multi; sapiendum ut pauci. But Sallust was no such man.’ ”

Of all departments of history, the delineation of character is that which is most trying to the temper and impartiality of the writer, more especially when he has been contemporary with the individuals he portrays, and in some degree engaged in the transactions he records. Five or six of the characters drawn by Sallust have in all ages been regarded as masterpieces: He has seized the delicate shades, as well as the pro[pg 90]minent features, and thrown over them the most lively and appropriate colouring. Those of the two principal actors in his tragic histories are forcibly given, and prepare us for the incidents which follow. The portrait drawn of Catiline conveys a vivid idea of his mind and person,—his profligate untameable spirit, infinite resources, unwearied application, and prevailing address. We behold, as it were, before us the deadly paleness of his countenance, his ghastly eye, his unequal troubled step, and the distraction of his whole appearance, strongly indicating the restless horror of a guilty conscience. I think, however, it might have been instructive and interesting had we seen something more of the atrocities perpetrated in early life by this chief conspirator. The historian might have shown him commencing his career as the chosen favourite of Sylla, and the instrument of his monstrous cruelties. The notice of the other conspirators is too brief, and there is too little discrimination of their characters. Perhaps the outline was the same in all, but each might have been individuated by distinctive features. The parallel drawn between Cato and Cæsar is one of the most celebrated passages in the history of the conspiracy. Of both these famed opponents we are presented with favourable likenesses. Their defects are thrown into shade; and the bright qualities of each different species which distinguished them, are contrasted for the purpose of showing the various merits by which men arrive at eminence.

The introductory sketch of the genius and manners of Jugurtha is no less able and spirited than the character of Catiline. We behold him, while serving under Scipio, as brave, accomplished, and enterprizing; but imbued with an ambition, which, being under no control of principle, hurried him into its worst excesses, and rendered him ultimately perfidious and cruel. The most singular part of his character was the mixture of boldness and irresolution which it combined; but the lesson we receive from it, lies in the miseries of that suspicion and that remorse which he had created in his own mind by his atrocities, and which rendered him as wretched on the throne, or at the head of his army, as in the dungeon where he terminated his existence. The portraits of the other principal characters, who figured in the Jugurthine War, are also well brought out. That of Marius, in particular, is happily touched. His insatiable ambition is artfully disguised under the mask of patriotism,—his cupidity and avarice are concealed under that of martial simplicity and hardihood; but, though we know from his subsequent career the hypocrisy of his pretensions, the character of Marius is presented to us in a more favourable light than that in which it can be viewed on a survey of his [pg 91]whole life. We see the blunt and gallant soldier, and not that savage whose innate cruelty of soul was just about to burst forth for the destruction of his countrymen. In drawing the portrait of Sylla, the memorable rival of Marius, the historian represents him also such as he appeared at that period, not such as he afterwards proved himself to be. We behold him with pleasure as an accomplished and subtle commander, eloquent in speech, and versatile in resources; but there is no trace of the cold-blooded assassin, the tyrant, buffoon, and usurper.

In general, Sallust’s painting of character is so strong, that we almost foresee how each individual will conduct himself in the situation in which he is placed. Tacitus attributes all the actions of men to policy,—to refined, and sometimes imaginary views; but Sallust, more correctly, discovers their chief springs in the passions and dispositions of individuals. “Salluste,” says St Evremond, “donne autant au naturel, que Tacite à la politique. Le plus grand soin du premier est de bien connoitre le génie des hommes; les affaires viennent après naturellement, par des actions peu recherchées de ces mêmes personnes qu’il a depeintes.”

History, in its original state, was confined to narrative; the reader being left to form his own reflections on the deeds or events recorded. The historic art, however, conveys not complete satisfaction, unless these actions be connected with their causes,—the political springs, or private passions, in which they originated. It is the business, therefore, of the historian, to apply the conclusions of the politician in explaining the causes and effects of the transactions he relates. These transactions the author must receive from authentic monuments or records, but the remarks deduced from them must be the offspring of his own ingenuity. The reflections with which Sallust introduces his narrative, and those he draws from it, are so just and numerous that he has by some been considered as the father of philosophic history. It must always, however, be remembered, that the proper object of history is the detail of national transactions,—that whatever forms not a part of the narrative is episodical, and therefore improper, if it be too long, and do not grow naturally out of the subject. Now, some of the political and moral digressions of Sallust are neither very immediately connected with his subject, nor very obviously suggested by the narration. The discursive nature and inordinate length of the introductions to his histories have been strongly censured. The first four sections of Catiline’s conspiracy have indeed little relation to that topic. They might as well have been prefixed to any other history, and [pg 92]much better to a moral or philosophic treatise. In fact, a considerable part of them, descanting on the fleeting nature of wealth and beauty, and all such adventitious or transitory possessions, is borrowed from the second oration of Isocrates. Perhaps the eight following sections are also disproportioned to the length of the whole work; but the preliminary essay they contain, on the degradation of Roman manners and decline of virtue, is not an unsuitable introduction to the conspiracy, as it was this corruption of morals which gave birth to it, and bestowed on it a chance of success. The preface to the Jugurthine War has much less relation to the subject which it is intended to introduce. The author discourses at large on his favourite topics the superiority of mental endowments over corporeal advantages, and the beauty of virtue and genius. He contrasts a life of listless indolence with one of honourable activity; and, finally, descants on the task of the historian as a suitable exercise for the highest faculties of the mind.

Besides the conspiracy of Catiline and the Jugurthine War, which have been preserved entire, and from which our estimate of the merits of Sallust must be chiefly formed, he was author of a civil and military history of the republic, in five books, entitled, Historia rerum in Republica Romana Gestarum. This work, inscribed to Lucullus, the son of the celebrated commander of that name, was the mature fruit of the genius of Sallust, having been the last history he composed. It included, properly speaking, only a period of thirteen years,—extending from the resignation of the dictatorship by Sylla, till the promulgation of the Manilian law, by which Pompey was invested with authority equal to that which Sylla had relinquished, and obtained, with unlimited power in the east, the command of the army destined to act against Mithridates. This period, though short, comprehends some of the most interesting and luminous points which appear in the Roman Annals. During this interval, and almost at the same moment, the republic was attacked in the east by the most powerful and enterprizing of the monarchs with whom it had yet waged war; in the west, by one of the most skilful of its own generals; and in the bosom of Italy, by its gladiators and slaves. This work also was introduced by two discourses—the one presenting a picture of the government and manners of the Romans, from the origin of their city to the commencement of the civil wars, the other containing a general view of the dissensions of Marius and Sylla; so that the whole book may be considered as connecting the termination of the Jugurthine war, and the breaking out of Catiline’s conspiracy. The loss of this [pg 93]valuable production is the more to be regretted, as all the accounts of Roman history which have been written, are defective during the interesting period it comprehended. Nearly 700 fragments belonging to it have been amassed, from scholiasts and grammarians, by De Brosses, the French translator of Sallust; but they are so short and unconnected, that they merely serve as land-marks, from which we may conjecture what subjects were treated of, and what events were recorded. The only parts of the history which have been preserved in any degree entire, are four orations and two letters. Pomponius Lætus discovered the orations in a MS. of the Vatican, containing a collection of speeches from Roman history. The first is an oration pronounced against Sylla by the turbulent Marcus Æmilius Lepidus; who, (as is well known,) being desirous, at the expiration of his year, to be appointed a second time Consul, excited, for that purpose, a civil war, and rendered himself master of a great part of Italy. His speech which was preparatory to these designs, was delivered after Sylla had abdicated the dictatorship, but was still supposed to retain great influence at Rome. He is accordingly treated as being still the tyrant of the state; and the people are exhorted to throw off the yoke completely, and to follow the speaker to the bold assertion of their liberties. The second oration, which is that of Lucius Philippus, is an invective against the treasonable attempt of Lepidus, and was calculated to rouse the people from the apathy with which they beheld proceedings that were likely to terminate in the total subversion of the government. The third harangue was delivered by the Tribune Licinius: It was an effort of that demagogue to depress the patrician, and raise the tribunitial power, for which purpose he alternately flatters the people, and reviles the Senate. The oration of Marcus Cotta is unquestionably a fine one. He addressed it to the people, during the period of his Consulship, in order to calm their minds, and allay their resentment at the bad success of public affairs, which, without any blame on his part, had lately, in many respects, been conducted to an unprosperous issue. Of the two letters which are extant, the one is from Pompey to the Senate, complaining, in very strong terms, of the deficiency in the supplies for the army which he commanded in Spain against Sertorius; the other is feigned to be addressed from Mithridates to Arsaces, King of Parthia, and to be written when the affairs of the former monarch were proceeding unsuccessfully. It exhorts him, nevertheless, with great eloquence and power of argument, to join him in an alliance against the Romans: for this purpose, it places in a strong point of view their unprin[pg 94]cipled policy, and ambitious desire of universal empire—all which could not, without this device of an imaginary letter by a foe, have been so well urged by a national historian. It concludes with showing the extreme danger which the Parthians would incur from the hostility of the Romans, should they succeed in finally subjugating Pontus and Armenia. The only other fragment, of any length, is the description of a splendid entertainment given to Metellus, on his return, after a year’s absence, to his government of Farther Spain. It appears, from several other fragments, that Sallust had introduced, on occasion of the Mithridatic war, a geographical account of the shores and countries bordering on the Euxine, in the same manner as he enters into a topographical description of Africa, in his history of the Jugurthine war. This part of his work has been much applauded by ancient writers for exactness and liveliness; and is frequently referred to, as the highest authority, by Strabo, Pomponius Mela, and other geographers.

Besides his historical works, there exist two political discourses, concerning the administration of the government, in the form of letters to Julius Cæsar, which have generally, though not on sufficient grounds, been attributed to the pen of Sallust[195].

As Sallust has obviously imitated, and, in fact, resembles Thucydides, so has

JULIUS CÆSAR,

in his historical works, been compared to Xenophon, the first memoir writer among the Greeks. Simplicity is the characteristic of both, but Xenophon has more rhetorical flow and sweetness of style, and he is sometimes, I think, a little mawkish; while the simplicity of Cæsar, on the other hand, borders, perhaps, on severity. Cæsar, too, though often circumstantial, is never diffuse, while Xenophon is frequently prolix, without being minute or accurate. “In the Latin work,” says Young, in his History of Athens, “we have the commentaries of a general vested with supreme command, and who felt no anxiety about the conduct or obedience of his army—in the Greek, we possess the journal of an officer in subordinate rank, though of high estimation. Hence the [pg 95]speeches of the one are replete with imperatorial dignity, those of the other are delivered with the conciliatory arts of argument and condescension. Hence, too, the mind of Xenophon was absorbed in the care and discipline of those under his command; but thence we are better acquainted with the Greek army than with that of Cæsar. Cæsar’s attention was ever directed to those he was to attack, to counteract, or to oppose—Xenophon’s to those he was to conduct. For the same reason, Xenophon is superficial with respect to any peculiarities of the nations he passed through; while in Cæsar we have a curious, and well authenticated detail, relative to the Gauls, the Britons, and every other enemy. The comparison, however, holds in this, that Cæsar, like Xenophon, was properly a writer of Memoirs. Like him, he aimed at nothing farther than communicating facts in a plain familiar manner; and the account of his campaign was only drawn up as materials for future history, not having leisure to bestow that ornament and dress which history requires.” In the opinion of his contemporaries, however, and all subsequent critics, he has rendered desperate any attempt to write the history of the wars of which he treats. “Dum voluit,” says Cicero, “alios habere parata, unde sumerent, qui vellent scribere historiam, sanos quidem homines a scribendo deterruit.” A similar opinion is given by his continuator Hirtius,—“Adeo probantur omnium judicio ut prærepta, non præbita, facultas scriptoribus videatur.”

Cæsar’s Commentaries consist of seven books of the Gallic, and three of the civil wars. Some critics, however, particularly Floridus Sabinus[196], deny that he was the author of the books on the latter war, while Carrio and Ludovicus Caduceus doubt of his being the author even of the Gallic war,—the last of these critics attributing the work to Suetonius. Hardouin, who believed that most of the works now termed classical, were forgeries of the monks in the thirteenth century, also tried to persuade the world, that the whole account of the Gallic campaigns was a fiction, and that Cæsar had never drawn a sword in Gaul in his life. The testimony, however, of Cicero and Hirtius, who were contemporary with Cæsar,—of many authentic writers, who lived after him, as Suetonius, Strabo, and Plutarch,—and of all the old grammarians, must be considered as settling the question; for if such evidence is not implicitly trusted, there seems to be an end of all reliance on ancient authority.

Though these Commentaries comprehend but a small extent [pg 96]of time, and are not the general history of a nation, they embrace events of the highest importance, and they detail, perhaps, the greatest military operations to be found in ancient story. We see in them all that is great and consummate in the art of war. The ablest commander of the most martial people on the globe records the history of his own campaigns. Placed at the head of the finest army ever formed in the world, and one devoted to his fortunes, but opposed by military skill and prowess only second to its own, he, and the soldiers he commanded, may be almost extolled in the words in which Nestor praised the heroes who had gone before him:—

“Καρτισοι δη κεινοι ἐπιχθονιων τραφεν ανδρων,

Καρτισοι μεν ἐσαν και καρτισοις ἐμαχοντο,” ——

for the Gauls and Germans were among the bravest and most warlike nations then on earth, and Pompey was accounted the most consummate general of his age. No commander, it is universally admitted, ever had such knowledge of the mechanical part of war: He possessed the complete empire of the sea, and was aided by all the influence derived from the constituted authority of the state.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the whole Commentaries, is the account of the campaign in Spain against Afranius and Petreius, in which Cæsar, being reduced to extremities for want of provisions and forage, (in consequence of the bridges over the rivers, between which he had encamped, being broken down,) extricated himself from this situation, after a variety of skilful manœuvres, and having pursued Pompey’s generals into Celtiberia, and back again to Lerida, forced their legions to surrender, by placing them in those very difficulties from which he had so ably relieved his own army.

It is obvious that the greater part of such Commentaries must be necessarily occupied with the detail of warlike operations. The military genius of Rome breathes through the whole work, and it comprehends all the varieties which warfare offers to our interest, and perhaps, undue admiration—pitched battles, affairs of posts, encampments, retreats, marches in face of the foe through woods and over plains or mountains, passages of rivers, sieges, defence of forts, and those still more interesting accounts of the spirit and discipline of the enemies’ troops, and the talents of their generals. In his clear and scientific details of military operations, Cæsar is reckoned superior to every writer, except, perhaps, Polybius. Some persons have thought he was too minute, and that, by describing every evolution performed in a battle, he has rendered his [pg 97]relations somewhat crowded. But this was his principle, and it served the design of the author.

As he records almost nothing at which he was not personally present, or heard of from those acting under his immediate directions, he possessed the best information with regard to everything of which he wrote[197]. In general, when he speaks of himself, it is without affectation or arrogance. He talks of Cæsar as of an indifferent person, and always maintains the character which he has thus assumed; indeed, it can hardly be conceived that he had so small a share in the great actions he describes, as appears from his own representations. With exception of the false colours with which he disguises his ambitious projects against the liberties of his country, everything seems to be told with fidelity and candour. Nor is there any very unfair concealment of the losses he may have sustained: he ingenuously acknowledges his own disaster in the affair at Dyracchium; he admits the loss of 960 men, and the complete frustration of his whole plan for the campaign. When he relates his successes, on the other hand, it is with moderation. There is the utmost caution, reserve, and modesty, in his account of the battle of Pharsalia; and one would hardly conceive that the historian had any share in the action or victory. He in general acknowledges, that the events of war are beyond human control, and ascribes the largest share of success to the power of fortune. The rest he seems willing to attribute to the valour of his soldiers, and the good conduct of his military associates. Thus he gives the chief credit and glory of the great victory over Ariovistus to the presence of mind displayed by Crassus, who promptly made the signal to a body of men to advance and support one of the wings which was overpowered by the multitude of the enemy, and was beginning to give way. He does not even omit to do justice to the distinguished and generous valour of the two centurions, Pulfio and Varenus, or of the centurion Sextius Baculus, during the alarming attack by the Sicambri. On the other hand, when he has occasion to mention the failure of his friends, as in relating Curio’s defeat and death in Africa, he does it with tenderness and indulgence. Of his enemies, he speaks without insult or contempt; and even in giving his judgment upon a great military question, though he disapproves Pompey’s mode of waiting for the attack at Pharsalia, his own reasons [pg 98]for a contrary opinion are urged with deference and candour. The confident hopes which were entertained in Pompey’s camp—the pretensions and disputes of the leading senators, about the division of patronage and officers, and the confiscations which were supposed to be just falling within their grasp, furnished him with some amusing anecdotes, which it must have been difficult to resist inserting; nor can we wonder, that while all the preparations for celebrating the anticipated victory with luxury and festivity, were matters of ocular observation, he should have devoted some few passages in his Commentaries, to recording the vanity and presumption of such fond expectations. Labienus, who had deserted him, and Scipio, who gave him so much trouble, by rekindling the war, are those of whom he speaks with the greatest rancour, in relating the cruelty of the former, and the tyrannical ingenious rapacity of the latter[198].

Whatever concerns the events of the civil war could not easily have been falsified or misrepresented. So many enemies, who had been eye-witnesses of everything, survived that period, that the author could scarcely have swerved from the truth without detection. But in his contests with the Gauls, and Germans, and Britons, there was no one to contradict him. Those who accompanied him were devoted to his fame and fortunes, and interested like himself in exalting the glory of these foreign exploits. That he has varnished over the real motives, and also the issue, of his expedition to Britain has been frequently suspected. The reason he himself assigns for the undertaking is, that he understood supplies had been thence furnished to the enemy, in almost all the Gallic wars; but Suetonius asserts, that the information he had received of the quantity and size of the pearls on the British coast, was his real inducement. Fourteen short chapters in the fourth book of the Gallic war, relate his first visit, and his hasty return; and sixteen in the fifth, detail his progress in the following summer. These chapters have derived importance from containing the earliest authentic memorials of the inhabitants and state of this island; and there has, of course, been much discussion on the genuine though imperfect notices they afford. Various tracts, chiefly published in the Archæologia, have topographically followed the various steps of Cæsar’s progress, particularly his passage across the Thames, and have debated the situation of the Portus Iccius, from which he embarked for Britain.

Cæsar’s occasional digressions concerning the manners of [pg 99]the Gauls and Germans, are also highly interesting and instructive, and are the only accounts to be at all depended on with regard to the institutions and customs of these two great nations, at that remote period. In Gaul he had remained so long, and had so thoroughly studied the habits and customs of its people for his own political purposes, that whatever is delivered concerning that country, may be confidently relied on. His intercourse with the German tribes was occasional, and chiefly of a military description. Some of his observations on their manners—as their hospitality, the continence of their youth, and the successive occupation of different lands by the same families—are confirmed by Tacitus; but in other particulars, especially in what relates to their religion, he is contradicted by that great historian. Cæsar declares that they have no sacrifices, and know no gods, but those, like the Sun or Moon, which are visible, and whose benefits they enjoy[199]. Tacitus informs us, that their chief god is Mercury, whom they appease by human victims; that they also sacrifice animals to Hercules and Mars; and adore that Secret Intelligence, which is only seen in the eye of mental veneration[200]. The researches of modern writers have also thrown some doubts on the accuracy of Cæsar’s German topography; and Cluverius, in particular, has attempted to show, that he has committed many errors in speaking both of the Germans and Batavians[201].

As the Commentaries of Cæsar do not pretend to the elaborate dignity of history, the author can scarcely be blamed if he has detailed his facts without mingling many reflections or observations. He seldom inserts a political or characteristic remark, though he had frequent opportunities for both, in describing such singular people as the Gauls, Germans, and Britons. But his object was not, like Sallust or Tacitus, to deduce practical reflections for the benefit of his reader, or to explain the political springs of the transactions he relates. His simple narrative was merely intended for the gratification of those Roman citizens, whom he had already persuaded to favour his ambitious projects; yet even they, I think, might have wished to have heard something more of what may be called the military motives of his actions. He tells us of his [pg 100]marches, retreats, and encampments, but seldom sufficiently explains the grounds on which these warlike measures were undertaken—how they advanced his own plans, or frustrated the designs of the enemy. More insight into the military views by which he was prompted, would have given additional interest and animation to his narrative, and afforded ampler lessons of instruction.

No person, I presume, wishes to be told, for the twentieth time, that the style of Cæsar is remarkable for clearness and ease, and a simplicity more truly noble than the pomp of words. Perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of his style, is its perfect equality of expression. There was, in the mind of Cæsar, a serene and even dignity. In temper, nothing appeared to agitate or move him—in conduct, nothing diverted him from the attainment of his end. In like manner, in his style, there is nothing swelling or depressed, and not one word occurs which is chosen for the mere purpose of embellishment. The opinion of Cicero, who compared the style of Cæsar to the unadorned simplicity of an ancient Greek statue, may be considered as the highest praise, since he certainly entertained no favourable feelings towards the author; and the style was very different from that which he himself employed in his harangues, or philosophical works, or even in his correspondence. “Nudi sunt,” says he, “recti, et venusti, omni ornatu orationis tanquam veste detracto.” This exquisite purity was not insensibly obtained, as the Lælian and Mucian Families are said to have acquired it, by domestic habit and familiar conversation, but by assiduous study and thorough knowledge of the Latin language[202], and the practice of literary composition, to which Cæsar had been accustomed from his earliest youth[203].

But, however admirable for its purity and elegance, the style of Cæsar seems to be somewhat deficient, both in vivacity and vigour. Walchius, too, has pointed out a few words, which he considers not of pure Latinity, as ambactus, a term employed by the Gauls and Germans to signify a servant—also Ancorarii funes, a word nowhere else used as an adjective—Antemittere for premittere, and summo magistratu præiverat for magistratui[204]. The use of such words as collabefieret, contabulatio, detrimentosum, explicitius, materiari, would lead us to suspect that Cæsar had not always attended to the rule which he so strongly laid down in his book, De Analogia, [pg 101]to avoid, as a rock, every unusual word or expression. Bergerus, in an immense quarto, entitled De Naturali pulchritudine Orationis has at great length attempted to show that Cæsar had anticipated all the precepts subsequently delivered by Longinus, for reaching the utmost excellence and dignity of composition. He points out his conformity to these rules, in what he conceives to be the abridgments, amplifications, transitions, gradations,—in short, all the various figures and ornaments of speech, which could be employed by the most pedantic rhetorician; and he also critically examines those few words and phrases of questionable purity, which are so thinly scattered through the Commentaries.

Mankind usually judge of a literary composition by its intrinsic merit, without taking into consideration the age of the author, the celerity with which it was composed, or the various circumstances under which it was written; and in this, perhaps, they act not unjustly, since their business is with the work, and not with the qualities of the author. But were such things to be taken into view, it should be remembered, that these Memoirs were hastily drawn up during the tumult and anxiety of campaigns, and were jotted down from day to day, without care or premeditation. “Ceteri,” says Hirtius, the companion of Cæsar’s expeditions, and the continuator of his Commentaries,—“Ceteri quam bene atque emendate; nos etiam quam facile atque celeriter eos perscripserit scimus.”

The Commentaries, De Bello Gallico, and De Bello Civili, are the only productions of Cæsar which remain to us. Several ancient writers speak of his Ephemeris, or Diary; but it has been doubted whether the work, so termed by Plutarch, Servius, Symmachus, and several others, be the same book as the Commentaries, or a totally different production. The former opinion is adopted by Fabricius, who thinks that Ephemeris, or Ephemerides, is only another name for the Commentaries, which in fact may be considered as having been written in the manner and form of a diary. He acknowledges, that several passages, cited by Servius, as taken from these Ephemerides, are not now to be found in the Commentaries; but then he maintains that there are evidently defects (lacunæ) in the latter work; and he conjectures that the words quoted by Servius are part of the lost passages of the Commentaries. This opinion is followed by Vossius, who cites a sort of Colophon at the end of one of the oldest MSS. of the Commentaries which he thinks decisive of the question, as it shows that the term Ephemeris was currently applied to them.—“C. J. Cæsaris, P. M. Ephemeris rerum Gestarum Belli Gallici, Lib. VIII. explicit feliciter.”

Bayle, in his Dictionary, has supported the opposite theory. He believes the Ephemeris to have been a journal of the author’s life. He admits, that a passage which Plutarch quotes as from the Ephemeris, occurs also in the fourth book of the Commentaries; but then he maintains, that it was impossible for Cæsar not to have frequently mentioned the same thing in his Commentaries and Journal, and he thinks, that had Plutarch meant to allude to the former, he would have called them, not Ephemeris, but ὑπομνηματα as Strabo has termed them. Besides, Polyænus mentions divers warlike stratagems, as recorded by Cæsar, which are not contained in the Commentaries, and which, therefore, could have been explained only in the separate work Ephemeris.

There are still some fragments remaining of the letters which Cæsar addressed to the Senate and his friends, and also of his orations, which were considered as inferior only to those of Cicero. Of his rhetorical talents, something may be hereafter said. It appears that his qualities as an orator and historian, were very different, since vehemence and the power of exciting emotion, (concitatio,) are mentioned as the characteristics of his harangues. Some of them were delivered in behalf of clients, and on real business, in the Forum; but the two orations entitled Anticatones were merely written in the form and manner of accusations before a judicial tribunal. These rhetorical declamations, which were composed about the time of the battle of Munda, were intended as an answer to the laudatory work of Cicero, called Laus Catonis. The author particularly considered in them the last act of Cato at Utica, and has raked up all the vices and defects of his character, whether real or imputed, public or private,—his ambition, affectation of singularity, churlishness, and avarice; but as the Anticatones were seasoned with lavish commendations of Cicero, whose panegyric on Cato they were intended to confute, the orator felt much flattered with the dictatorial incense, and greatly admired the performances in which it was offered,—“Collegit vitia Catonis, sed cum maximis laudibus meis[205].”

These two rival works were much celebrated at Rome; and both of them had their several admirers, as different parties and interests disposed men to favour the subject, or the author of each. It seems also certain, that they were the principal cause of establishing and promoting that veneration which posterity has since paid to the memory of Cato; for his name being thrown into controversy in that critical period of the [pg 103]fate of Rome, by the patron of liberty on one side, and its oppressor on the other, it became a kind of political test to all succeeding ages, and a perpetual argument of dispute between the friends of freedom, and the flatterers of power[206]. The controversy was taken up by Brutus, the nephew, and Fabius Gallus, an admirer of Cato: it was renewed by Augustus, who naturally espoused the royal side of the question, and by Thraseas Pætus, who ventured on this dangerous topic during the darkest days of imperial despotism.

Cæsar’s situation as Pontifex Maximus probably led him to write the Auguralia and Libri Auspiciorum, which, as their names import, were books explaining the different auguries and presages derived from the flight of birds. To the same circumstance we may attribute his work on the motions of the stars, De Motu Siderum, which explains what he had learned in Egypt on that subject from Sosigenes, a peripatetic philosopher of Alexandria, and in which, if we may credit the elder Pliny, he prognosticated his own death on the ides of March[207].

The composition of the works hitherto mentioned naturally enough suggested itself to a high-priest, warrior, and politician, who was also fond of literature, and had the same command of his pen as of his sword. But it appears singular, that one so much occupied with war, and with political schemes for the ruin of his country, should have seriously employed himself in writing formal and elaborate treatises on grammar. There is no doubt, however, that he composed a work, in two books, on the analogies of the Latin tongue, which was addressed to Cicero, and was entitled, like the preceding work of Varro on the same subject, De Analogia. It was written, as we are informed by Suetonius, while crossing the Alps, on his return to the army from Hither Gaul, where he had gone to attend the assemblies of that province[208]. In this book, the great principle established by him was, that the proper choice of words formed the foundation of eloquence[209]; and he cautioned authors and public speakers to avoid as a rock every unusual word or unwonted expression[210]. His declensions, however, of some nouns, appear, at least to us, not a little strange—as turbo, turbonis, instead of turbinis[211]; and likewise his inflections of verbs,—as, mordeo, memordi; pungo,, pepugi; spondeo, spepondi[212]. He also treated of derivatives; as we are informed, that he derived ens from the verb sum, es, est; and of rules of grammar,—as that the dative and ablative singular [pg 104]of neuters in e are the same, as also of neuters in ar, except far and jubar. It appears that he even descended to the most minute consideration of orthography and the formation of letters; Thus, he was of opinion, that the letter V should be formed like an inverted F,—thus Ⅎ,—because it has the force of the Æolic digamma. Cassiodorus farther mentions, that, in the question with regard to the use of the u or i in such words as maxumus or maximus, Cæsar gave the preference to i; and, from such high authority, this spelling was adopted in general practice.

It has been said, that Cæsar also made a collection of apophthegms and anecdotes, in the style of our modern Ana; but Augustus prevented these from being made public. That emperor likewise, in a letter to Pompeius Macrus, to whom he had given the charge of arranging his library, prohibited the publication of several poetical effusions of Cæsar’s youth. These are said to have consisted of a tragedy on the subject of Œdipus, and a poem in praise of Hercules[213]. Another poem, entitled Iter was written by him in maturer age. It is said, by Suetonius, to have been composed when he reached Farther Spain, on the twenty-fourth day after his departure from Rome[214]; and it may therefore be conjectured to have been a poetical relation of the incidents which occurred during that journey, embellished, perhaps, with descriptions of the most striking scenery through which he passed. Two epigrams, which are still extant, have also been frequently attributed to him; one on the dramatic character of Terence, already quoted[215], and another on a Thracian boy, who, while playing on the ice, fell into the river Hebrus,—

“Thrax puer, astricto glacie dum luderet Hebro,” &c.

But this last is, with more probability, supposed by many to have been the production of Cæsar Germanicus.

There were also several useful and important works accomplished under the eye and direction of Cæsar, such as the graphic survey of the whole Roman empire. Extensive as their conquests had been, the Romans hitherto had done almost nothing for geography, considered as a science. Their knowledge was confined to the countries they had subdued, and them they regarded only with a view to the levies they could furnish, and the taxations they could endure. Cæsar was the first who formed more exalted plans. Æthicus, a writer of the fourth century, informs us, in the preface to his Cosmographia, [pg 105]that this great man obtained a senatusconsultum, by which a geometrical survey and measurement of the whole Roman empire was enjoined to three geometers. Xenodoxus was charged with the eastern, Polycletus with the southern, and Theodotus with the northern provinces. Their scientific labour was immediately commenced, but was not completed till more than thirty years after the death of him with whom the undertaking had originated. The information which Cæsar had received from the astronomer Sosigenes in Egypt, enabled him to alter and amend the Roman calendar. It would be foreign from my purpose to enter into an examination of this system of the Julian year, but the computation he adopted has been explained, as is well known, by Scaliger and Gassendi[216]; and it has been since maintained, with little farther alteration than that introduced by Pope Gregory XIII. When we consider the imperfection of all mathematical instruments in the time of Cæsar, and the total want of telescopes, we cannot but view with admiration, not unmixed with astonishment, that comprehensive genius, which, in the infancy of science, could surmount such difficulties, and compute a system, that experienced but a trifling derangement in the course of sixteen centuries.

Although Cæsar wrote with his own hand only seven books of the Gallic campaigns, and the history of the civil wars till the death of his great rival, it seems highly probable, that he revised the last or eighth book of the Gallic war, and communicated information for the history of the Alexandrian and African expeditions, which are now usually published along with his own Commentaries, and may be considered as their supplement, or continuation. The author of these works, which nearly complete the interesting story of the campaigns of Cæsar, was Aulus Hirtius, one of his most zealous followers, and most confidential friends. He had been nominated Consul for the year following the death of his master; and, after that event, having espoused the cause of freedom, he was slain in the attack made by the forces of the republic on Antony’s camp, near Modena.

The eighth book of the Gallic war contains the account of the renewal of the contest by the states of Gaul, after the surrender of Alesia, and of the different battles which ensued, at most of which Hirtius was personally present, till the final pacification, when Cæsar, learning the designs which were forming against him at Rome, set out for Italy.

Cæsar, in the conclusion of the third book of the Civil War, mentions the commencement of the Alexandrian war. Hirtius was not personally present at the succeeding events of this Egyptian contest, in which Cæsar was involved with the generals of Ptolemy, nor during his rapid campaigns in Pontus against Pharnaces, and against the remains of the Pompeian party in Africa, where they had assembled under Scipio, and being supported by Juba, still presented a formidable appearance. He collected, however, the leading events from the conversation of Cæsar[217], and the officers who were engaged in these campaigns. He has obviously imitated the style of his master; and the resemblance which he has happily attained, has given an appearance of unity and consistence to the whole series of these well-written and authentic memoirs. It appears that Hirtius carried down the history even to the death of Cæsar, for in his preface addressed to Balbus, he says, that he had brought down what was left imperfect from the transactions at Alexandria, to the end, not of the civil dissensions, to a termination of which there was no prospect, but of the life of Cæsar[218].

This latter part, however, of the Commentaries of Hirtius, has been lost, as it seems now to be generally acknowledged that he was not the author of the book De Bello Hispanico, which relates Cæsar’s second campaign in Spain, undertaken against young Cneius Pompey, who, having assembled, in the ulterior province of that country, those of his father’s party who had survived the disasters in Thessaly and Africa, and being joined by some of the native states, presented a formidable resistance to the power of Cæsar, till his hopes were terminated by the decisive battle of Munda. Dodwell, indeed, in a Dissertation on this subject, maintains, that it was originally written by Hirtius, but was interpolated by Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan writer of the 6th or 7th century. Vossius, however, whose opinion is that more commonly received, attributes it to Caius Oppius[219], who wrote the Lives of Illustrious Captains, and also a book to prove that the Ægyptian Cæsario was not the son of Cæsar. Oppius was Cæsar’s confidential friend, and companion in many of his enterprizes; and it was to him, as we are informed by Suetonius, that Cæsar gave up the only apartment at an inn, while they were travel[pg 107]ling in Gaul, and lay himself on the ground, and in the open air[220].

A fragment has been added at the end of this book, on the Spanish war, by Jungerman, from a MS. of Petavius. Vossius thinks that this fragment was taken from the Commentaries, called those of Julius Celsus, on the Life of Cæsar, published in 1473. These Commentaries, however, were the work of a Christian writer; but Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan of the 6th century, already mentioned, having revised the Commentaries of Cæsar, the work on his life came, (from the confusion of names, or perhaps from a fiction devised, to give the stamp of authority,) to be attributed to Julius Celsus, who was contemporary with Cæsar, and was reported to have written a history of his campaigns; just in the same way as a fabulous life of Alexander, produced in the middle ages, passes to this day under the name of Callisthenes, the historiographer of the Macedonian monarch.

There is no other historian of the period on which we are now engaged, of whose works even any fragments have descended to us. Atticus, however, wrote Memoirs of Rome from the earliest periods, and also memoirs of its principal families, as the Junian, Cornelian, and Fabian,—tracing their origin, enumerating their honours, and recording their exploits. At the same time Lucceius composed Histories of the Social War, and of the Civil Wars of Sylla, which were so highly esteemed by Cicero, that he urges him in one of his letters to undertake a history of his consulship, in which he discovered and suppressed the conspiracy of Catiline[221]. From a subsequent letter to Atticus we learn that Lucceius had promised to accomplish the task suggested to him[222]. It is probable, however, that it never was completed,—his labour having been interrupted by the civil wars, in which he followed the fortunes of Pompey, and was indeed one of his chief advisers in adopting the fatal resolution of quitting Italy.

The Annals of Procilius, which appeared at this period, may be conjectured to have comprehended the whole series of Roman history, from the building of the city to his own time; since Varro quotes him for the account of Curtius throwing himself into the gulf[223] and Pliny refers to him for some remarks with regard to the elephants which appeared at Pompey’s African triumph[224].

Brutus is also said to have written epitomes of the meagre and barren histories of Fannius and Antipater. That he should [pg 108]have thought of abridging narratives so proverbially dry and jejune, seems altogether inexplicable.

The works of an historian called Cæcina have also perished, and if we may trust to his own account of them, their loss is not greatly to be deplored. In one of his letters to Cicero he says, “From much have I been compelled to refrain, many things I have been forced to pass over lightly, many to curtail, and very many absolutely to omit. Thus circumscribed, restricted, and broken as it is, what pleasure or what useful information can be expected from the recital[225]?”

We have thus traced the progress of historical composition among the Romans, from its commencement to the time of Augustus. There is no history so distinguished and adorned as the Roman, by illustrious characters; and the circumstances which it records produced the greatest as well as most permanent empire that ever existed on earth. The interest of the early events, and the value of the conclusions to be drawn from them, are much diminished by their uncertainty. Subsequently, however, to the second Punic war, the Roman historians were, for the most part, themselves engaged in the affairs of which they treat, and had therefore, at least, the most perfect means of communicating accurate information. But this advantage, which, in one point of view, is so prodigious, was attended with concomitant evils. Lucian, in his treatise, How History ought to be Written, says, that the author of this species of composition should be abstracted from all connection with the persons and things which are its subjects; that he should be of no country and no party; that he should be free from all passion, and unconcerned who is pleased or offended with what he writes. Now, the Roman historians of the era on which we are engaged were the slaves of party or the heads of factions; and even when superior to all petty interests or prejudices, they still show plainly that they are Romans. None of them stood impartially aloof from their subject, or supplied the want of historians of Carthage and of Gaul, by whom their narratives might be corrected, and their colouring softened.

Of all the arts next to war, Eloquence was of most importance in Rome; since, if the former led to the conquest of foreign states, the latter opened to each individual a path to empire and dominion over the minds of his fellow citizens[226]. [pg 109]Without this art, wisdom itself, in the estimation of Cicero, could be of little avail for the advantage or glory of the commonwealth[227].

During the existence of the monarchy, and in the early age of the republic, law proceedings were not numerous. Many civil suits were prevented by the absolute dominion which a Roman father exercised over his family; and the rigour of the decemviral laws, in which all the proceedings were extreme, frequently concussed parties into an accommodation; while, at the same time, the purity of ancient manners had not yet given rise to those criminal questions of bribery and peculation at home, or of oppression and extortion in the provinces, which disgraced the closing periods of the commonwealth, and furnished themes for the glowing invective of Cicero and Hortensius. Hence there was little room for the exercise of legal oratory; and whatever eloquence may have shone forth in the early ages of Rome, was probably of a political description, and exerted on affairs of state.

From the earliest times of the republic, history records the wonderful effects which Junius Brutus, Publicola, and Appius Claudius, produced by their harangues, in allaying seditions, and thwarting pernicious counsels. Dionysius of Halicarnassus gives us a formal speech, which Romulus, by direction of his grandfather, made to the people after the building of the city, on the subject of the government to be established[228]. There are also long orations of Servius Tullius; and great part of the Antiquities of Dionysius is occupied with senatorial debates during the early ages of the republic. But though the orations of these fathers of Roman eloquence were doubtless delivered with order, gravity, and judgment, and may have possessed a masculine vigour, well calculated to animate the courage of the soldier, and protect the interests of the state, we must not form our opinion of them from the long speeches in Dionysius and Livy, or suppose that they were adorned with any of that rhetoric art with which they have been invested by these historians. A nation of outlaws, destined from their cradle to the profession of arms,—taught only to hurl the spear or javelin, and inure their bodies to other martial exercises,—with souls breathing only conquest,—and regarded as the enemies of every state till they had become its masters, could have possessed but few topics of illustration or embellishment, and were not likely to cultivate any species of rhetorical refinement. To convince by solid arguments when [pg 110]their cause was good, and to fill their fellow-citizens with passions corresponding to those with which they were themselves animated, would be the great objects of an eloquence supplied by nature and unimproved by study. Quintilian accordingly informs us, that though there appeared in the ancient orations some traces of original genius, and much force of argument, they bore, in their rugged and unpolished periods, the signs of the times in which they were delivered.

With exception of the speech of Appius Claudius to oppose a peace with Pyrrhus, there are no harangues mentioned by the Latin critics or historians as possessing any charms of oratory, previously to the time of Cornelius Cethegus, who flourished during the second Punic war, and was Consul about the year 550. Cethegus was particularly distinguished for his admirable sweetness of elocution and powers of persuasion, whence he is thus characterized by Ennius, a contemporary poet, in the 9th book of his Annals:

“Additur orator Cornelius suaviloquenti

Ore Cethegus Marcus, Tuditano collega;

Flos delibatus populi, suadæque medulla.”

The orations of Cato the Censor have been already mentioned as remarkable for their rude but masculine eloquence. When Cato was in the decline of life, a more rich and copious mode of speaking at length began to prevail. Ser. Galba, by the warmth and animation of his delivery, eclipsed Cato and all his contemporaries. He was the first among the Romans who displayed the distinguishing talents of an orator, by embellishing his subject,—by digressing, amplifying, entreating, and employing what are called topics, or common-places of discourse. On one occasion, while defending himself against a grave accusation, he melted his judges to compassion, by producing an orphan relative, whose father had been a favourite of the people. When his orations, however, were afterwards reduced to writing, their fire appeared extinguished, and they preserved none of that lustre with which his discourses are said to have shone when given forth by the living orator. Cicero accounts for this from his want of sufficient study and art in composition. While his mind was occupied and warmed by the subject, his language was bold and rapid; but when he took up the pen, his emotion ceased, and the periods fell languid from its point; “which,” continues he, “never happened to those who, having cultivated a more studied and polished style of oratory, wrote as they spoke. Hence the mind of Lælius yet breathes in his writings, though the force of Galba has failed.” It appears, however, from an anecdote recorded by [pg 111]Cicero, that Galba was esteemed the first orator of his age by the judges, the people, and Lælius himself.—Lælius, being intrusted with the defence of certain persons suspected of having committed a murder in the Silian forest, spoke for two days, correctly, elegantly, and with the approbation of all, after which the Consuls deferred judgment. He then recommended the accused to carry their cause to Galba, as it would be defended by him with more heat and vehemence. Galba, in consequence, delivered a most forcible and pathetic harangue, and after it was finished, his clients were absolved as if by acclamation[229]. Hence Cicero surmises, that though Lælius might be the more learned and acute disputant, Galba possessed more power over the passions; he also conjectures, that the former had more elegance, but the latter more force; and he concludes, that the orator who can move or agitate his judges, farther advances his cause than he who can instruct them.

Lælius is also compared by Cicero with his friend, the younger Scipio Africanus, in whose presence, this question concerning the Silian murder was debated. They were almost equally distinguished for their eloquence; and they resembled each other in this respect, that they both invariably delivered themselves in a smooth manner, and never, like Galba, exerted themselves with loudness of speech or violence of gesture[230]; but their style of oratory was different,—Lælius affecting a much more ancient phraseology than that adopted by his friend. Cicero himself seems inclined most to admire the rhetoric of Scipio; but he says, that, being so renowned a captain, and mankind being unwilling to allow supremacy to one individual, in what are considered as the two greatest of arts, his contemporaries for the most part awarded to Lælius the palm of eloquence.

The intercourse which was by this time opening up with Greece, and the encouragement now afforded to Greek teachers, who always possessed the undisputed privilege of dictating the precepts of the arts, produced the same improvement m oratory that it had effected in every branch of literature. Marcus Emilius Lepidus was a little younger than Galba or Scipio, and was Consul in 617. From his orations, which were extant in the time of Cicero, it appeared that he was the first who, in imitation of the Greeks, gave harmony and sweetness to his periods, or the graces of a style regularly polished and improved by art.

Cicero mentions a number of other orators of the same age [pg 112]with Lepidus, and minutely paints their peculiar styles of rhetoric. We find among them the names of almost all the eminent men of the period, as Emilius Paulus, Scipio Nasica, and Mucius Scævola. The importance of eloquence for the purposes of political aggrandizement, is sufficiently evinced, from this work of Cicero, De Claris Oratoribus, since there is scarcely an orator mentioned, even of inferior note, who did not at this time rise to the highest offices in the state.

The political situation of Rome, and the internal inquietude which now succeeded its foreign wars, were the great promoters of eloquence. We hear of no orators in Sparta or Crete, where the severest discipline was exercised, and where the people were governed by the strictest laws. But Rhodes and Athens, places of popular rule, where all things were open to all men, swarmed with orators. In like manner, Rome, when most torn with civil dissensions, produced the brightest examples of eloquence. Cicero declares, that wisdom without eloquence was of little service to the state[231]; and from the political circumstances of the times, that sort of oratory was most esteemed which had most sway over a restless and ungovernable multitude. The situation of public affairs occasioned those continual debates concerning the Agrarian Laws, and the consequent popularity acquired by the most factious demagogues. Hence, too, those frequent impeachments of the great—those ambitious designs of the patricians—those hereditary enmities in particular families—in fine, those incessant struggles between the Senate and plebeians, which, though all prejudicial to the commonwealth, contributed to swell and ramify that rich vein of eloquence, which now flowed so profusely through the agitated frame of the state. During the whole period previous to the actual breaking out of the civil wars, when the Romans turned the sword against each other, and the mastery of the world depended on its edge, oratory continued to open the most direct path to dignities. The farther a Roman citizen advanced in this career, so much nearer was he to preferment, so much the greater his reputation with the people; and when elevated to the dignified offices of the state, so much the higher his ascendancy over his colleagues.

The Gracchi were the genuine offspring, and their eloquence the natural fruits of these turbulent times. Till their age, oratory had been a sort of Arcanum imperii,—an instrument of government in the power of the Senate, who used every precaution to retain its exclusive exercise. It was the [pg 113]great bulwark that withstood the tide of popular passion, and weakened it so as not to beat too high or strongly on their own order and authority. The Gracchi not only broke down the embankment, but turned the flood against the walls of the Senate itself. The interests of the people had never yet been espoused by men endued with eloquence equal to theirs. Cicero, while blaming their political conduct, admits that both were consummate orators; and this he testifies from the recollection of persons still surviving in his day, and who remembered their mode of speaking. Indeed, the wonderful power which both brothers exercised over the people is a sufficient proof of their eloquence. Tiberius Gracchus was the first who made rhetoric a serious study and art. In his boyhood, he was carefully instructed in elocution by his mother Cornelia: he also constantly attended the ablest and most eloquent masters from Greece, and, as he grew up, he bestowed much time on the exercise of private declamation. It is not likely, that, gifted as he was by nature, and thus instructed, the powers of eloquence should long have remained dormant in his bosom. At the time when he first appeared on the turbulent stage of Roman life, the accumulation of landed property among a few individuals, and the consequent abuse of exorbitant wealth, had filled Italy with slaves instead of citizens—had destroyed the habits of rural industry among the people at large, and leaving only rich masters at the head of numerous and profligate servants, gradually rooted out those middle classes of society which constitute the strength, the worth, and the best hopes of every well-regulated commonwealth. It is said, that while passing through Etruria on his way to Numantia, Tiberius Gracchus found the country almost depopulated of freemen, and thence first formed the project of his Agrarian law, which was originally intended to correct the evils arising from the immense landed possessions of the rich, by limiting them to the number of acres specified in the ancient enactments[232], and dividing the conquered territories among the poorer citizens. Preparatory to its promulgation, he was wont to assemble the people round the rostrum, where he pleaded for the poor, in language of which we have a specimen in Plutarch: “The wild beasts of Italy have their dens to retire to—their places of refuge and repose; while the brave men who shed their blood in the cause of their country, have nothing left but fresh air and sunshine. Without houses, without settled habitations, they wander from place to place with their wives and children; and their commanders do but [pg 114]mock them, when, at the head of their armies, they exhort their soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars. For, among such numbers, there is not one Roman who has an altar which belonged to his ancestors, or a tomb in which their ashes repose. The private soldiers fight and die to increase the wealth and luxury of the great; and they are styled sovereigns of the world, while they have not a foot of ground they can call their own[233].” By such speeches as these, the people were exasperated to fury, and the Senate was obliged to have recourse to Octavius, who, as one of the tribunes, was the colleague of Gracchus, to counteract the effects of his animated eloquence. Irritated by this opposition, Gracchus abandoned the first plan of his law, which was to give indemnification from the public treasury to those who should be deprived of their estates, and proposed a new bill, by which they were enjoined forthwith to quit those lands which they held contrary to previous enactments. On this subject there were daily disputes between him and Octavius on the rostrum. Finding that his plans could not otherwise be accomplished he resolved on the expedient of deposing his colleague; and thenceforth, to the period of his death, his speeches (one of which is preserved by Plutarch) were chiefly delivered in persuasion or justification of that violent measure.

Caius Gracchus was endued with higher talents than Tiberius, but the resentment he felt on account of his brother’s death, and eager desire for vengeance, led him into measures which have darkened his character with the shades of the demagogue. At the time of his brother’s death he had only reached the age of twenty. In early youth, he distinguished himself by the defence of one of his friends named Vettius, and charmed the people by the eloquence which he exerted. He appears soon afterwards to have been impelled, as it were, by a sort of destiny, to the same political course which had proved fatal to his brother, and which terminated in his own destruction. His speeches were all addressed to the people, and were delivered in proposing laws, calculated to increase their authority, and lessen that of the Senate,—as those for colonizing the public lands, and dividing them among the poor; for regulating the markets, so as to diminish the price of bread, and for vesting the judicial power in the knights. A fragment of his speech, De Legibus Promulgatis, is said to have been recently discovered, with other classical remains, in the Ambrosian Library. Aulus Gellius also quotes from this harangue, a passage, in which the orator complained that some respect[pg 115]able citizens of a municipal town in Italy had been scourged with rods by a Roman magistrate. Gellius praises the conciseness, neatness, and graceful ease of the narrative, resembling dramatic dialogue, in which this incident was related. Similar, but only similar qualities, appear in his accusation of the Roman legate, who, while travelling to Asia in a litter, caused a peasant to be scourged to death, for having asked his slaves if it was a corpse they were carrying. “The relation of these events,” says Gellius, “does not rise above the level of ordinary conversation. It is not a person complaining or imploring, but merely relating what had occurred;” and he contrasts this tameness with the energy and ardour with which Cicero has painted the commission of a like enormity by Verres[234].

Though similar in many points of character and also in their political conduct, there was a marked difference in the style of eloquence, and forensic demeanour, of the two brothers. Tiberius, in his looks and gestures, was mild and composed—Caius, earnest and vehement; so that when they spoke in public, Tiberius had the utmost moderation in his action, and moved not from his place: whereas Caius was the first of the Romans, who, in addressing the people, walked to and fro in the rostrum, threw his gown off his shoulder, smote his thigh, and exposed his arm bare[235]. The language of Tiberius was laboured and accurate, that of Caius bold and figurative. The oratory of the former was of a gentle kind, and pity was the emotion it chiefly raised—that of the latter was strongly impassioned, and calculated to excite terror. In speaking, indeed, Caius was often so hurried away by the violence of his passion, that he exalted his voice above the regular pitch, indulged in abusive expressions, and disordered the whole tenor of his oration. In order to guard against such excesses, he stationed a slave behind him with an ivory flute, which was modulated so as to lead him to lower or heighten the tone of his voice, according as the subject required a higher or a softer key. “The flute,” says Cicero, “you may as well leave at home, but the meaning of the practice you must remember at the bar[236].”

In the time of the Gracchi, oratory became an object of assiduous and systematic study, and of careful education. A youth, intended for the profession of eloquence, was usually introduced to one of the most distinguished orators of the city, [pg 116]whom he attended when he had occasion to speak in any public or private cause, or in the assemblies of the people, by which means he heard not only him, but every other famous speaker. He thus became practically acquainted with business and the courts of justice, and learned the arts of oratoric conflict, as it were, in the field of battle. “It animated,” says the author of the dialogue De Causis Corruptæ Eloquentiæ,—“it animated the courage, and quickened the judgment of youth, thus to receive their instructions in the eye of the world, and in the midst of affairs, where no one could advance an absurd or weak argument, without being exposed by his adversary, and despised by the audience. Hence, they had also an opportunity of acquainting themselves with the various sentiments of the people, and observing what pleased or disgusted them in the several orators of the Forum. By these means they were furnished with an instructor of the best and most improving kind, exhibiting not the feigned resemblance of eloquence, but her real and lively manifestation—not a pretended but genuine adversary, armed in earnest for the combat—an audience ever full and ever new, composed of foes as well as of friends, and amongst whom not a single expression could fall but was either censured or applauded.”

The minute attention paid by the younger orators to all the proceedings of the courts of justice, is evinced by the fragment of a Diary, which was kept by one of them in the time of Cicero, and in which we have a record, during two days, of the various harangues that were delivered, and the judgments that were pronounced[237].

Nor were the advantages to be derived from fictitious oratorical contests long denied to the Roman youth. The practice of declaiming on feigned subjects, was introduced at Rome about the middle of its seventh century. The Greek rhetoricians, indeed, had been expelled, as well as the philosophers, towards the close of the preceding century; but, in the year 661, Plotius Gallus, a Latin rhetorician, opened a declaiming school at Rome. At this period, however, the declamations generally turned on questions of real business, and it was not till the time of Augustus, that the rhetoricians so far prevailed, as to introduce common-place arguments on fictitious subjects.

The eloquence which had originally been cultivated for seditious purposes, and for political advancement, began now to be considered by the Roman youth as an elegant accomplishment. It was probably viewed in the same light that we [pg 117]regard horsemanship or dancing, and continued to be so in the age of Horace—

“Namque, et nobilis, et decens,

Et pro sollicitis non tacitus reis,

Et centum puer artium,