Part 14 (1/2)

”Hic lovis altisoni subito pinnata satelles Arboris e trunco serpentis saucia morsu Subrigit, ipsa feris transfigens unguibus, anguem Semianimum et varia graviter cervice micantem, Quem se intorquentem lanians rostroque cruentans, Iam saltata animos, iam duros ulta dolores, Abiecit ceflantem et laceratum adfligit in unda, Seque obitu a solis nitidos convert.i.t ad ortus.

Hanc ubi praepetibus pennis lapsuque vo antem Conspexit Marius, divini miminis augur, Faustaque signa suae laudis reditusque notavit, Partibus intonuit caeli pater ipse sinistris.

Sic aquilae clarum firmavit Iuppiter omen.”

Praises of himself, from the poem on his consuls.h.i.+p (Div. I. ii. -- 17 _sqq._):

”Haec tardata diu species multumque morata Consulet tandem celsa est in sede locata, Atque una tixi ac signati temporis hora, Iuppiter excelsa clarabat sceptra columna; Et clades patriae flamma ferroque parata Vocibus Allobrogum patribus populoque patebat.

Rite igitur veteres quorum monumenta tenetis, Qui populos urbisque modo ac virtute regebant, Ritectiam vestri quorum pietasque fidesque Praest.i.tit ac longe vicit sapientia cunctos Praecipue coluere vigenti numine divos.

Haec adeo penitus cura videri sagaci Otia qui studiis laeti tenuere decoris, Inque Academia umbrifera nitidoque Lyceo Fuderunt claras fecundi pectoris artis: E quibus ereptum primo iam a flore in ventae, Te patria in media virtuttum mole locavit.

Tu tamen auxiferas curas requiete relaxans Quod patriae vacat id studiis n.o.bisque dedisti.”

We append some verses by Quintus Cicero, who the orator declared would make a better poet than himself. They are on the twelve constellations, a well-worn but apparently attractive subject:

”Flumina verna cient obscuro lumine Pisces, Curriculumque Aries aequat noctisque dieque, Cornua quem comunt florum praenuntia Tauri, Aridaque aestatis Gemini primordia pandunt, Longaque iam minuit praeclarus lumina Cancer, Languiticusque Leo proflat ferus ore calores.

Post modic.u.m quatiens Virgo fugat orta vaporem.

Autumnni reserat porfas aequatque diurna Tempora nocturnis disperse sidere Libra, Et fetos ramos denudat flamma Nepai.

Pigra sagittipotens iaculatur frigora terris.

Bruma gelu glacians iubare spirat Capricorni: Quam sequitur nebulas rorans liquor altus Aquari: Tanta supra circaque vigent ubi flumina. Mundi At dextra laevaque cict rota fulgida Solis Mobile curriculum, et Lunae simulacra feruntur.

Squama sub aeterno conspectu torta Draconis Eminet: hanc inter fulgentem sidera septem Magna quat.i.t stellans, quam serrans serus in alia Conditur Oceani ripa c.u.m luce Bootes.”

This is poor stuff; two epigrams are more interesting:

I.

”Crede ratem ventis, animum ne crede puellis: Namque est feminea tutior unda fide.”

II.

”Femina nulla bona est, et, si bona contigit ulla, Nescio quo fato res mala facta bona.”

We observe the entire lack of inspiration, combined with considerable smoothness, but both, in a feebler degree, which are characteristic of his brother's poems.

CHAPTER III.

HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL COMPOSITION--CAESAR--NEPOS--SALl.u.s.t.

It is well known that Cicero felt strongly tempted to write a history of Rome. Considering the stirring events among which he lived, the grandeur of Rome's past, and the exhaustless literary resources which he himself possessed, we are not surprised either at his conceiving the idea or at his friends encouraging it. Nevertheless it is fortunate for his literary fame that he abandoned the proposal, [1] for he would have failed in history almost more signally than he did in poetry. His mind was not adapted for the kind of research required, nor his judgment for weighing historic evidence. When Lucceius announced his intention of writing a history which should include the Catilinarian conspiracy, Cicero did not scruple to beg him to enlarge a little on the truth. ”You must grant something to our friends.h.i.+p; let me pray you to delineate my exploits in a way that shall reflect the greatest possible glory on myself.” [2] A lax conception of historical responsibility, which is not peculiar to Cicero.

He is but an exaggerated type of his nation in this respect. No Roman author, unless it be Tacitus, has been able fully to grasp the extreme complexity as well as difficulty of the historian's task. Even the sage Quintilian maintains the popular misconception when he says, ”History is closely akin to poetry, and is written for purposes of narration not of proof; being composed with the motive of transmitting our fame to posterity, it avoids the dulness of continuous narrative by the use of rarer words and freer periphrases.” [3] We may conclude that this criticism is based on a careful study of the greatest recognised models.

This false opinion arose no doubt from the narrowness of view which persisted in regarding all kinds of literature as merely exercises in _style_. For instance accuracy of statements was not regarded as the goal and object of the writer's labours, but rather as a useful means of obtaining _clearness of arrangement_; abundant information helped towards _condensation_; original observation towards _vivacity_; personal experience of the events towards _pathos_ or _eloquence_.

So unfortunately prevalent was this view that a writer was not called a historian unless he had considerable pretensions to style. Thus, men who could write, and had written, in an informal way, excellent historical accounts, were not studied by their countrymen as historians. Their writings were relegated to the limbo of antiquarian remains. The habit of writing notes of their campaigns, memoranda of their public conduct, copies of their speeches, &c. had for some time been usual among the abler or more ambitious n.o.bles. Often these were kept by them, laid by for future elaboration: oftener still they were published, or sent in the form of letters to the author's friends. The letters of Cicero and his numerous correspondents present such a series of raw material for history; and in reading any of the antiquarian writers of Rome we are struck by the large number of monographs, essays, pamphlets, rough notes, commentaries, and the like, attributed to public men, to which they had access.

It is quite clear that for many years these doc.u.ments had existed, and equally clear that, unless their author was celebrated or their style elegant, the majority of readers entirely neglected them. Nevertheless they formed a rich material for the diligent and capable historian. In using them, however, we could not expect him to show the same critical ac.u.men, the same impartiality, as a modern writer trained in scientific criticism and the broad culture of international ideas; to expect this would be to expect an impossibility. To look at events from a national instead of a party point of view was hard; to look at them from a human point of view, as Polybius had done, was still harder. Thus we cannot expect from Republican Rome any historical work of the same scope and depth as those of Herodotus and Thucydides; neither the dramatic genius of the one nor the philosophic insight of the other was to be gained there.

All we can look for is a clear comprehensive narrative, without flagrant misrepresentation, of some of the leading episodes, and such we fortunately possess in the memoirs of Caesar and the biographical essays of Sall.u.s.t.

The immediate object of the Commentaries of JULIUS CAESAR (100-44 B.C.), was no doubt to furnish the senate with an authentic military report on the Gallic and Civil Wars. But they had also an ulterior purpose. They aspired to justify their author in the eyes of Rome and of posterity in his att.i.tude of hostility to the const.i.tution.

Pompey was perhaps quite as desirous of supreme power as Caesar, and was equally ready to make all patriotic motives subordinate to self-interest.

Nevertheless he gained, by his connexion with the senate, the reputation of defender of the const.i.tution, and thought fit to appropriate the language of patriotism. Caesar, in his _Commentaries_--which, though both unfinished and, historically speaking, unconnected with one another, reveal the deeper connexion of successive products of the same creative policy--labours throughout to show that he acted in accordance with the forms of the const.i.tution and for the general good of Rome. This he does not as a rule attempt to prove by argument. Occasionally he does so, as when any serious accusation was brought against the legitimacy of his acts; and these are among the most important and interesting chapters in his work. [4] But his habitual method of exculpating himself is by his persuasive moderation of statement, and his masterly collocation of events. In reading the narrative of the Civil War it is hard to resist the conviction that he was unfairly treated. Without any terms of reprobation, with scarcely any harsh language, with merely that wondrous skill in manipulating the series of facts which genius possesses, he has made his readers, even against their prepossession, disapprove of Pompey's att.i.tude and condemn the bitter hostility of the senate. So, too, in the report of the Gallic War, where diplomatic caution was less required, the same apparent candour, the same perfect statement of his case, appears. In every instance of aggressive and ambitious war, there is some equitable proposal refused, some act of injustice not acknowledged, some infringement of the dignity of the Roman people committed, which makes it seem only natural that Caesar should exact reprisals by the sword. On two or three occasions he betrays how little regard he had for good faith when barbarians were in consideration, and how completely absent was that generous clemency in the case of a vanquished foreign prince, which when exercised towards his own countrymen procured him such enviable renown.

[5] His treacherous conduct towards the Usipetes and Tenchteri, which he relates with perfect _sang froid_, [6] is such as to shock us beyond description; his brutal vengeance upon the Atuatici and Veneti, [7] all whose leading men he murdered, and sold the rest, to the number of 53,000, by auction; his cruel detention of the n.o.ble Vercingetorix, who, after acting like an honourable foe in the field, voluntarily gave himself up to appease the conqueror's wrath; [8] these are blots in Caesar's scutcheon, which, if they do not place him below the recognised standard of action of the time, prevent him from being placed in any way above it. The theory that good faith is unnecessary with an uncivilised foe, is but the other side of the doctrine that it is merely a thing of expediency in the case of a civilised one. And neither Rome herself, nor many of her greatest generals, can free themselves from the grievous stain of perfidious dealing with those whom they found themselves powerful enough so to treat.