[Illustration: MARCUS AURELIUS]

 [Illustration: CÆSAR]

 [Illustration: CICERO]

 [Illustration: SENECA]

 THE BEST

 _of the_

 WORLD'S CLASSICS

 RESTRICTED TO PROSE

 HENRY CABOT LODGE

 _Editor-in-Chief_

 FRANCIS W. HALSEY

 _Associate Editor_

 With an Introduction, Biographical and Explanatory Notes, etc. 

 IN TEN VOLUMES

 Vol. II

 ROME

 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY

 NEW YORK AND LONDON

 COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY

 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY

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The Best of the World's Classics

VOL. II

ROME

234 B. C. --180 A. D. 

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CONTENTS

VOL. II--ROME

CATO THE CENSOR--(Born in 234 B. C. , died in 149. )

Of Work on a Roman Farm. (From "De Re Rustica. " Translated by Dr. E. Wilson)

CICERO--(Born in 106 B. C. , assassinated in 43. )

I The Blessings of Old Age. (From the "Cato Major. " Translated by Cyrus R. Edmonds)

II On the Death of His Daughter Tullia. (A letter to Sulpicius)

III Of Brave and Elevated Spirits. (From Book I of the "Offices. " Translated by Cyrus R. Edmonds)

IV Of Scipio's Death and of Friendship. From the "Dialog on Friendship. " (Translated by Cyrus R. Edmonds)

JULIUS CÆSAR--(Born in 100 B. C. , assassinated in 44. )

I The Building of the Bridge Across the Rhine. (From Book IV of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. " Translated by McDivett and W. S. Bohn)

II The Invasion of Britain. (From Book V of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. " Translated by McDivett and Bohn)

III Overcoming the Nervii. (From Book II of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. " Translated by McDivett and Bohn)

IV The Battle of Pharsalia and the Death of Pompey. (From Book III of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. " Translated by McDivett and Bohn)

SALLUST--(Born about 86 B. C. , died about 34. )

I The Genesis of Catiline. (From the "Conspiracy of Catiline. " Translated by J. S. Watson)

II The Fate of the Conspirators. (From the "Conspiracy of Catiline. " Translated by J. S. Watson)

Livy--(Born in 59 B. C. , died in 17 A. D. )

I Horatius Cocles at the Bridge. (From Book II of the "History of Rome. " Translated by D. Spillan and Cyrus R. Edmonds)

II Hannibal's Crossing of the Alps. (From Book XXI of the "History of Rome. " Translated by Spillan and Edmonds)

III Hannibal and Scipio at Zama. (From Book XXX of the "History of Rome. " Translated by Spillan and Edmonds)

SENECA--(Born about 4 B. C. , died in 65 A. D. )

I Of the Wise Man. (From Book II of the "Minor Essays. " Translated by Aubrey Stewart)

II Of Consolation for the Loss of Friends. (From Book VI of the "Minor Essays. " Translated by Aubrey Stewart)

III To Nero on Clemency. (From the "Minor Essays. " Translated by Aubrey Stewart)

IV The Pilot. (From Epistle 85. Translated by Thomas Lodge)

V Of a Happy Life. (From Book VII of the "Minor Essays. " Translated by Aubrey Stewart)

PLINY THE ELDER--(Born in 23 A. D. , perished in the Eruption of Vesuvius. )

I The Qualities of the Dog. (From the "Natural History. " Translated by Bostock and Riley)

II Three Great Artists of Greece. (From the "Natural History. " Translated by Bostock and Riley)

QUINTILIAN--(Born about 35 A. D. , died about 95. )

 The Orator Must Be a Good Man. (From Book XII, Chapter I, of the "Institutes. " Translated by J. S. Watson)

TACITUS--(Born about 55 A. D. , died about 117. )

I From Republican to Imperial Rome. (From Book I of the "Annals. " The Oxford translation revised)

II The Funeral of Germanicus. (From Book III of the "Annals. " The Oxford translation revised)

III The Death of Seneca. (From Book XV of the "Annals. " The Oxford translation revised)

IV The Burning of Rome by Order of Nero. (From Book XV of the "Annals. " The Oxford translation revised)

V The Burning of the Capitol at Rome. (From Book III of the "History. " The Oxford translation revised)

VI The Siege of Cremona. (From Book III of the "History. " The Oxford translation revised)

VII Agricola. (The Oxford translation revised)

PLINY THE YOUNGER--(Born in 63 A. D. , died in 113. )

I Of the Christians in His Province. (From the "Letters. " The Melmoth translation revised)

II To Tacitus on the Eruption of Vesuvius. (From the "Letters. " The Melmoth translation revised)

SUETONIUS--(Lived in the first half of the second century A. D. )

I The Last Days of Augustus. (From the "Lives of the Cæsars. " Translated by Alexander Thomson, revised by Forester)

II The Good Deeds of Nero. (From the "Lives of the Cæsars. " Translated by Thomson, revised by Forester)

III The Death of Nero. (From the "Lives of the Cæsars. " Translated by Thomson, revised by Forester)

MARCUS AURELIUS--(Born in 121 A. D. , died in 180. )

 His Debt to Others. (From the "Meditations. " Translated by George Long)

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ROME

234 B. C. --180 A. D. 

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CATO, THE CENSOR

 Born in Tusculum, Italy, in 234 B. C. , died in 149; celebrated as statesman, general, and writer; questor under Scipio in 204; Consul in 195; served in Spain in 194; censor in 184; ambassador to Carthage in 150; one of the chief instigators of the third Punic war; among his writings are "De Re Rustica" and "Origines. "[1]

OF WORK ON A ROMAN FARM[2]

When the owner of the farm and slaves visits his country villa, aftersaluting the household god, he should the same day, if possible, goround the farm; if not the same day, he should do so the day after. Onseeing how the farm is being cultivated, and what work has been doneor left undone, he should call for his steward and inquire for hisaccount of what work has been done and what remains to be done. Heshould ask whether the work has been completed in good time andwhether what is left uncompleted can be finished. He should find whatwine has been made, and what wheat stored. When he has gone into theseparticulars, he should ask for an account of the days spent inaccomplishing the work. 

If the work does not seem satisfactory and the steward should excusehimself by declaring that he has done his best, that the slaves weregood for nothing, that the weather was bad, that some slaves had runaway, that he himself had been called off on public service, andshould allege other such excuses, he should still be strictly calledto account. He should be asked if on rainy or tempestuous days he hadseen that indoor operations had been carried on. Had the wine-casksbeen scoured and lined with pitch; had the house-cleaning been done;had the grain been taken from the thrashing-floor to the granary; hadmanure been thrown from the stables and cow-houses and piled intoheaps; had the seed been winnowed; had any rope been made; had the oldrope been repaired, and had he seen that the slaves mended their coatsand caps. He should be reminded that on religious festivals oldditches might have been cleared out, the public road mended, brierscut down, the garden dug over, the meadow cleared, the trees trimmed, thorns pulled up by the roots, the grain ground and a general clearingup carried through. He should also be told that when slaves were sicktheir rations should be cut down. 

When the matters have been settled to the master's satisfaction, heshould take measures to see that what has not been done be at onceaccomplished. He should then proceed to consider the account of thefarm, and a consideration of the amount of grain which has beenprepared for fodder. He should have returns made of wine andolive-oil, and learn how much has been consumed, how much sold, howmuch is left over and may be put on sale. If there is a deficit anyyear, he should order it to be made up from the outside, and whateveris above the needs of the farm sold. If there is anything to let outon contract, he should order this to be done, and concerning the workwhich he wishes to be thus accomplished he should give his order inwriting. As regards the cattle he should order them to be sold byauction, and in the same way should sell the oil, if the price of oilhas risen; likewise the superfluous wine and corn of the estate. Heshould also order to be sold worn-out bulls, blemished cattle, blemished sheep, wool, hides, any plow that is old, old tools, oldslaves, slaves who are diseased, or anything else which is useless, for the owner of a farm must be a seller and not a purchaser. 

The owner of a farm and of slaves must begin to study in early manhoodthe cultivation and sowing of the land. He should, however, think along time before building his villa, but not about farming hisproperty, which he should set about at once. Let him wait until histhirty-sixth year and then build, provided his whole property is undercultivation. So build that neither the villa be disproportionatelysmall in comparison with the farm nor the farm in comparison with thevilla. It behooves a slave-owner to have a well-built country house, containing a wine-cellar, a place for storing olive-oil, and casks insuch numbers that he may look forward with delight to a time ofscarcity and high prices, and this will add not only to his wealth, but to his influence and reputation. He must have wine-presses of thefirst order, that his wine may be well made. When the olives have beenpicked, let oil be at once made or it will turn out rancid. Recollectthat every year the olives are shaken from the trees in great numberby violent storms. If you gather them up quickly and have vesselsready to receive them, the storm will have done them no harm and theoil will be all the greener and better. If the olives be on the groundor even on the barn floor too long, the oil made from them will befetid. Olive-oil will be always good and sweet if it be promptly made. 

The following are the duties of a steward: He must maintain strictdiscipline, and see that the festivals are observed. While he keepshis hands off the property of a neighbor, let him look well to hisown. The slaves are to be kept from quarreling. If any of them commitsa fault, he should be punished in a kindly manner. The steward mustsee that the slaves are comfortable and suffer neither from cold norhunger. By keeping them busy he will prevent them from running intomischief or stealing. If the steward sets his face against evil doing, evil will not be done by them. His master must call him to task if helet evil doing go unpunished. If one slave do him any service, heshould show gratitude that the others may be encouraged to do right. The steward must not be a gadder or a diner-out, but must give all hisattention to working the slaves, and considering how best to carry outhis master's instructions. .. . 

It is at times worth while to gain wealth by commerce, were it not soperilous; or by usury, were it equally honorable. Our ancestors, however, held, and fixt by law, that a thief should be condemned torestore double, a usurer quadruple. We thus see how much worse theythought it for a citizen to be a money-lender than a thief. Again, when they praised a good man, they praised him as a good farmer or agood husbandman. Men so praised were held to have received the highestpraise. For myself, I think well of a merchant as a man of energy andstudious of gain; but it is a career, as I have said, that leads todanger and ruin. However, farming makes the bravest men and thesturdiest soldiers, and of all sources of gain is the surest, the mostnatural, and the least invidious, and those who are busy with it havethe fewest bad thoughts. [3]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Cato was Rome's first thoroughly national author. He isusually classed as the creator of Latin prose. Other Roman authors ofhis time wrote in Greek. Cato bitterly opposed Greek learning, declaring that, when Greece should give Rome her literature, she would"corrupt everything. " On Cato's mind no outside literary influenceever prevailed. He has been called "the most original writer that Romeever produced. "]

[Footnote 2: From "De Re Rustica. " Translated for this work by Dr. Epiphanius Wilson. ]

[Footnote 3: The translation of this paragraph is taken fromCruttwell's "History of Roman Literature. "]

CICERO

 Born in 106 B. C. , assassinated in 43; celebrated as orator, philosopher, statesman, and man of letters; served in the social war in 89; traveled in Greece and Asia in 79-77; questor in Sicily in 75; accused Verres in 70; prætor in 60; as Consul supprest Catiline's conspiracy in 63; banished in 58; recalled in 57; proconsul in Cicilia in 51-50; joined Pompey in 49; pronounced orations against Mark Antony in 44-43; proscribed by the Second Triumvirate in 43; of his orations fifty-seven are extant, with fragments of twenty others; other extant works include "De Oratore, " "De Republica, " "Cato Major, " "De Officiis, " and four collections of letters. 

I

THE BLESSINGS OF OLD AGE[4]

Nor even now do I feel the want of the strength of a young man, nomore than when a young man I felt the want of the strength of the bullor of the elephant. What one has, that one ought to use; and whateveryou do, you should do it with all your strength. For what expressioncan be more contemptible than that of Milo[5] of Crotona, who, when hewas now an old man, and was looking at the prize-fighters exercisingthemselves on the course, is reported to have looked at his arms, and, weeping over them, to have said, "But these, indeed, are nowdead. " Nay, foolish man, not these arms so much as yourself; for younever derived your nobility from yourself, but from your chest andyour arms. Nothing of the kind did Sextus Ælius ever say, nothing ofthe kind many years before did Titus Coruncanius, nothing lately didPublius Crassus; by whom instructions in jurisprudence were given totheir fellow citizens, and whose wisdom was progressive even to theirlatest breath. For the orator, I fear lest he be enfeebled by old age;for eloquence is a gift not of mind only, but also of lungs andstrength. On the whole, that melodiousness in the voice is graceful, Iknow not how, even in old age; which, indeed, I have not lost, and yousee my years. 

Yet there is a graceful style of eloquence in an old man, unimpassioned and subdued, and very often the elegant and gentlediscourse of an eloquent old man wins for itself a hearing; and if youhave not yourself the power to produce this effect, yet you may beable to teach it to Scipio and Lælius. For what is more delightfulthan old age surrounded with the studious attention of youth? Shall wenot leave even such a resource to old age, as to teach young men, instruct them, train them to every department of duty? an employment, indeed, than which what can be more noble? But, for my part, I thoughtthe Cneius and Publius Scipios, [6] and your two grandfathers, L. Æmilius and P. Africanus, quite happy in the attendance of nobleyouths; nor are any preceptors of liberal accomplishments to be deemedotherwise than happy, tho their strength hath fallen into old age andfailed; altho that very failure of strength is more frequently causedby the follies of youth than by those of old age; for a lustful andintemperate youth transmits to old age an exhausted body. Cyrus too, in Xenophon, in that discourse which he delivered on his deathbed whenhe was a very old man, said that he never felt that his old age hadbecome feebler than his youth had been. I recollect, when a boy, thatLucius Metellus, [7] who, when four years after his second consulshiphe had been made "pontifex maximus, " and for twenty-two years heldthat sacerdotal office, enjoyed such good strength at the latterperiod of his life, that he felt no want of youth. There is no needfor me to speak about myself, and yet that is the privilege of oldage, and conceded to my time of life. 

Do you see how, in Homer, Nestor very often proclaims his own virtues?for he was now living in the third generation of men; nor had heoccasion to fear lest, when stating the truth about himself, he shouldappear either too arrogant or too talkative; for, as Homer says, fromhis tongue speech flowed sweeter than honey; for which charm he stoodin need of no strength of body; and yet the famous chief of Greecenowhere wishes to have ten men like Ajax, but like Nestor; and he doesnot doubt if that should happen, Troy would in a short time perish. 

But I return to myself. I am in my eighty-fourth year. In truth Ishould like to be able to make the same boast that Cyrus did; but onething I can say, that altho I have not, to be sure, that strengthwhich I had either as a soldier in the Punic war or as questor in thesame war, or as Consul in Spain, or, four years afterward, when asmilitary tribune I fought a battle at Thermopylæ, in the consulship ofMarcus Acilius Glabrio; yet, as you see, old age has not quiteenfeebled me or broken me down: the senate-house does not miss mystrength, nor the rostra, nor my friends, nor my clients, nor myguests; for I have never agreed to that old and much-praised proverbwhich advises you to become an old man early if you wish to be an oldman long. I for my part would rather be an old man for a shorterlength of time than be an old man before I was one. And, therefore, noone as yet has wished to have an interview with me to whom I have beendenied as engaged. 

But I have less strength than either of you two. Neither even do youpossess the strength of Titus Pontius the centurion; is he, therefore, the more excellent man? Only let there be a moderate degree ofstrength, and let every man exert himself as much as he can; and intruth that man will not be absorbed in regretting the want ofstrength. Milo, at Olympia, is said to have gone over the course whilesupporting on his shoulders a live ox. Whether, then, would you ratherhave this strength of body, or Pythagoras' strength of intellect, bestowed upon you? In a word, enjoy that blessing while you have it;when it is gone, do not lament it, unless, indeed, young men ought tolament the loss of boyhood, and those a little advanced in age theloss of adolescence. There is a definite career in life, and one wayof nature, and that a simple one; and to every part of life its ownpeculiar period has been assigned; so that both the feebleness ofboys, and the high spirit of young men, and the steadiness of now fixtmanhood, and the maturity of old age, have something natural whichought to be enjoyed in their own time. I suppose that you hear, Scipio, what your grandfather's host, Masinissa, [8] is doing at thisday, at the age of ninety. When he has commenced a journey on foot, henever mounts at all; when on horseback, he never dismounts; by norain, by no cold, is he prevailed upon to have his head covered; thatthere is in him the greatest hardiness of frame; and therefore heperforms all the duties and functions of a king. Exercise, therefore, and temperance, even in old age, can preserve some remnant of ourpristine vigor. 

Is there no strength in old age? neither is strength exacted from oldage. Therefore, by our laws and institutions, our time of life isrelieved from those tasks which can not be supported without strength. Accordingly, so far are we from being compelled to do what we can notdo that we are not even compelled to do as much as we can. But sofeeble are many old men that they can not execute any task of duty orany function of life whatever; but that in truth is not the peculiarfault of old age, but belongs in common to bad health. How feeble wasthe son of Publius Africanus, he who adopted you. What feeble health, or rather no health at all, had he! and had that not been so, he wouldhave been the second luminary of the state; for to his paternalgreatness of soul a richer store of learning had been added. Whatwonder, therefore, in old men if they are sometimes weak when evenyoung men can not escape that. 

We must make a stand, Scipio and Lælius, against old age, and itsfaults must be atoned for by activity; we must fight, as it were, against disease, and in like manner against old age. Regard must bepaid to health; moderate exercises must be adopted; so much of meatand drink must be taken that the strength may be recruited, notopprest. Nor, indeed, must the body alone be supported, but the mindand the soul much more; for these also, unless you drop oil on them ason a lamp, are extinguished by old age. And our bodies, indeed, byweariness and exercise, become opprest; but our minds are renderedbuoyant by exercise. For as to those of whom Cæcilius speaks, "foolishold men, " fit characters for comedy, by these he denotes thecredulous, the forgetful, the dissolute, which are the faults not ofold age, but of inactive, indolent, drowsy old age. As petulance andlust belong to the young more than to the old, yet not to all youngmen, but to those who are not virtuous; so that senile folly, which iscommonly called dotage, belongs to weak old men, and not to all. Fourstout sons, five daughters, so great a family, and such numerousdependents, did Appius manage, altho both old and blind; for he kepthis mind intent like a bow, nor did he languidly sink under the weightof old age. He retained not only authority, but also command, overhis family; the slaves feared him; the children respected him; allheld him dear; there prevailed in that house the manners and gooddiscipline of our fathers. For on this condition is old age honored ifit maintains itself, if it keeps up its own right, if it issubservient to no one, if even to its last breath it exercises controlover its dependents. For, as I like a young man in whom there issomething of the old, so I like an old man in whom there is somethingof the young; and he who follows this maxim, in body will possibly bean old man, but he will never be an old man in mind. 

I have in hand my seventh book of Antiquities; I am collecting all thematerials of our early history; of all the famous causes which I havedefended; I am now completing the pleadings;[9] I am employed on a lawof augurs, of pontiffs, of citizens. I am much engaged also in Greekliterature, and, after the manner of the Pythagoreans, for the purposeof exercising my memory, I call to mind in the evening what I havesaid, heard, and done on each day. These are the exercises of theunderstanding; these are the race-courses of the mind; while I amperspiring and toiling over these, I do not greatly miss my strengthof body. I attend my friends, I come into the senate very often, andspontaneously bring forward things much and long thought of, and Imaintain them by strength of mind, not of body; and if I were unableto perform these duties, yet my couch would afford me amusement, whenreflecting on those matters which I was no longer able to do, but thatI am able is owing to my past life; for, by a person who always livesin these pursuits and labors, it is not perceived when old age stealson. Thus gradually and unconsciously life declines into old age; noris its thread suddenly broken, but the vital principle is consumed bylength of time. 

Then follows the third topic of blame against old age, that they sayit has no pleasures. Oh, noble privilege of age! if indeed it takesfrom us that which is in youth the greatest defect. For listen, mostexcellent young men, to the ancient speech of Archytas[10] ofTarentum, a man eminently great and illustrious, which was reported tome when I, a young man, was at Tarentum with Quintus Maximus. He saidthat no more deadly plague than the pleasure of the body was inflictedon men by nature; for the passions, greedy of that pleasure, were in arash and unbridled manner incited to possess it; that hence arosetreasons against one's country, hence the ruining of states, henceclandestine conferences with enemies--in short, that there was nocrime, no wicked act, to the undertaking of which the lust ofpleasure did not impel; but that fornications and adulteries and everysuch crime were provoked by no other allurements than those ofpleasure. And whereas either nature or some god had given to mannothing more excellent than his mind, that to this divine function andgift, nothing was so hostile as pleasure; since where lust bore sway, there was no room for self-restraint; and in the realm of pleasure, virtue could by no possibility exist. And that this might be thebetter understood, he begged you to imagine in your mind any oneactuated by the greatest pleasure of the body that could be enjoyed;he believed no one would doubt but that so long as the person was inthat state of delight, he would be able to consider nothing in hismind, to attain nothing by reason, nothing by reflection; whereforethat there was nothing so detestable and so destructive as pleasure, inasmuch as that when it was excessive and very prolonged, itextinguished all the light of the soul. 

Nearchus of Tarentum, our host, who had remained throughout infriendship with the Roman people, said he had heard from older menthat Archytas held this conversation with Caius Pontius the Samnite, the father of him by whom, in the Caudian[11] battle, SpuriusPostumius and Titus Veturius, the consuls, were overcome, on whichoccasion Plato the Athenian had been present at that discourse; and Ifind that he came to Tarentum in the consulship of Lucius Camillus andAppius Claudius. [12] Wherefore do I adduce this? that we mayunderstand that if we could not by reason and wisdom despise pleasure, great gratitude would be due to old age for bringing it to pass thatthat should not be a matter of pleasure which is not a matter of duty. For pleasure is hostile to reason, hinders deliberation, and, so tospeak, closes the eyes of the mind, nor does it hold any intercoursewith virtue. I indeed acted reluctantly in expelling from the senateLucius Flaminius, brother of that very brave man Titus Flaminius, [13]seven years after he had been Consul; but I thought that hislicentiousness should be stigmatized. For that man, when he was Consulin Gaul, was prevailed on at a banquet by a courtezan to behead one ofthose who were in chains, condemned on a capital charge. He escaped inthe censorship of his brother Titus, who had immediately preceded me;but so profligate and abandoned an act of lust could by no means beallowed to pass by me and Flaccus, since with private infamy itcombined the disgrace of the empire. 

I have often heard from my elders, who said that, in like manner, they, when boys, had heard from old men, that Caius Fabricius was wontto wonder that when he was ambassador to King Pyrrhus, he had heardfrom Cineas the Thessalian that there was a certain person at Athenswho profest himself a wise man, and that he was accustomed to say thatall things which we did were to be referred to pleasure; and thathearing him say so, Manius Curius and Titus Coruncanius wereaccustomed to wish that that might be the persuasion of the Samnitesand Pyrrhus[14] himself, that they might the more easily be conqueredwhen they had given themselves up to pleasure. Manius Curius had livedwith Publius Decius, who, five years before the consulship of theformer, had devoted himself for the commonwealth in his fourthconsulship. Fabricius had been acquainted with him, and Coruncaniushad also known him, who, as well from his own conduct in life, as fromthe great action of him whom I mention, Publius Decius, judged thatthere was doubtless something in its own nature excellent andglorious, which should be followed for its own sake, and which, scorning and despising pleasure, all the worthiest men pursued. .. . 

But why do I refer to others? Let me now return to myself. First ofall, I always had associates in clubs; and clubs were established whenI was questor, on the Idæan worship of the great mother being adopted. Therefore I feasted with my associates altogether in a moderate way, but there was a kind of fervor peculiar to that time of life, and asthat advances, all things will become every day more subdued. For Idid not calculate the gratification of those banquets by the pleasuresof the body so much as by the meetings of friends and conversations. For well did our ancestors style the reclining of friends at anentertainment, because it carried with it a union of life, by the name"convivium" better than the Greeks do, who call this same thing aswell by the name of "compotatio" as "concoenatio"; so that what inthat kind (of pleasures) is of the least value that they appear mostto approve of. 

For my part, on account of the pleasure of conversation, I amdelighted also with seasonable entertainments, not only with those ofmy own age, of whom very few survive, but with those of your age, andwith you; and I give great thanks to old age, which has increased mydesire for conversation, and taken away that of eating and drinking. But even if such things delight any person (that I may not appearaltogether to have declared war against pleasure, of which perhaps acertain limited degree is even natural), I am not aware that even inthese pleasures themselves old age is without enjoyment. For my part, the presidencies established by our ancestors delight me; and thatconversation, which after the manner of our ancestors, is kept up overour cups from the top of the table; and the cups, as in the Symposiumof Xenophon, small and dewy, and the cooling of the wine in summer, and in turn either the sun, or the fire in winter--practises which Iam accustomed to follow among the Sabines also--and I daily join aparty of neighbors, which we prolong with various conversation tilllate at night, as far as we can. But there is not, as it were, soticklish a sensibility of pleasures in old men. I believe it; but thenneither is there the desire. However, nothing is irksome unless youlong for it. Well did Sophocles, when a certain man inquired of himadvanced in age whether he enjoyed venereal pleasures, reply, "Thegods give me something better; nay, I have run away from them withgladness, as from a wild and furious tyrant. " For to men fond of suchthings, it is perhaps disagreeable and irksome to be without them; butto the contented and satisfied it is more delightful to want them thanto enjoy them; and yet he does not want who feels no desire; thereforeI say that this freedom from desire is more delightful than enjoyment. 

But if the prime of life has more cheerful enjoyment of those verypleasures, in the first place they are but petty objects which itenjoys, as I have said before; then they are those of which old age, if it does not abundantly possess them, is not altogether destitute. As he is more delighted with Turpio Ambivius, who is spectator on theforemost bench, yet he also is delighted who is in the hindmost; soyouth having a close view of pleasures is perhaps more gratified; butold age is as much delighted as is necessary in viewing them at adistance. However, of what high value are the following circumstances, that the soul, after it has served out, as it were, its time underlust, ambition, contention, enmities, and all the passions, shallretire within itself, and, as the phrase is, live with itself? But ifit has, as it were, food for study and learning, nothing is moredelightful than an old age of leisure. I saw Caius Gallus, theintimate friend of your father, Scipio, almost expiring in theemployment of calculating the sky and the earth. How often diddaylight overtake him when he had begun to draw some figure by night, how often did night, when he had begun in the morning! How it diddelight him to predict to us the eclipses of the sun and the moon, long before their occurrence! What shall we say in the case ofpursuits less dignified, yet, notwithstanding, requiring acuteness!How Nævius did delight in his Punic war! how Plautus in hisTruculentus! how in his Pseudolus! I saw also the old man Livy, [15]who, tho he had brought a play upon the stage six years before I wasborn, in the consulship of Cento and Tuditanus, yet advanced in ageeven to the time of my youth. Why should I speak of Publius LiciniusCrassus' study both of pontifical and civil law? or of the presentPublius Scipio, who within these few days was created chief pontiff?Yet we have seen all these persons whom I have mentioned, ardent inthese pursuits when old men. But as to Marcus Cethegus, whom Enniusrightly called the "marrow of persuasion, " with what great zeal did wesee him engage in the practise of oratory, even when an old man! Whatpleasures, therefore, arising from banquets, or plays, or harlots, areto be compared with these pleasures? And these, indeed, are thepursuits of learning, which too, with the sensible and well educated, increase along with their age; so that is a noble saying of Solon, when he says in a certain verse, as I observed before, that he grewold learning many things every day--than which pleasure of the mind, certainly, none can be greater. 

I come now to the pleasures of husbandmen, with which I am excessivelydelighted, which are not checked by any old age, and appear in mymind to make the nearest approach to the life of a wise man. For theyhave relation to the earth, which never refuses command, and neverreturns without interest that which it hath received; but sometimeswith less, generally with very great interest. And yet for my part itis not only the product, but the virtue and nature of the earth itselfthat delight me, which, when in its softened and subdued bosom it hasreceived the scattered seed, first of all confines what is hiddenwithin it, from which harrowing, which produces that effect, derivesits name (_occatio_); then, when it is warmed by heat and its owncompression, it spreads it out, and elicits from it the verdant blade, which, supported by the fibers of the roots, gradually grows up, and, rising on a jointed stalk, is now enclosed in a sheath, as if it wereof tender age, out of which, when it hath shot up, it then pours forththe fruit of the ear, piled in due order, and is guarded by a rampartof beards against the pecking of the smaller birds. Why should I, inthe case of vines, tell of the plantings, the risings, the stages ofgrowth? That you may know the repose and amusement of my old age, Iassure you that I can never have enough of that gratification. For Ipass over the peculiar nature of all things which are produced fromthe earth; which generates such great trunks and branches from sosmall a grain of the fig or from the grape-stone, or from the minutestseeds of other fruits and roots; shoots, plants, twigs, quicksets, layers, do not these produce the effect of delighting any one even toadmiration? The vine, indeed, which by nature is prone to fall, and isborne down to the ground, unless it be propt, in order to raiseitself up, embraces with its tendrils, as it were with hands, whateverit meets with, which, as it creeps with manifold and wandering course, the skill of the husbandmen pruning with the knife, restrains fromrunning into a forest of twigs, and spreading too far in alldirections. 

Accordingly, in the beginning of spring, in those twigs which areleft, there rises up as it were at the joints of the branches thatwhich is called a bud, from which the nascent grape shows itself, which, increasing in size by the moisture of the earth and the heat ofthe sun, is at first very acid to the taste, and then as it ripensgrows sweet, and being clothed with its large leaves does not wantmoderate warmth, and yet keeps off the excessive heat of the sun; thanwhich what can be in fruit on the one hand more rich, or on the otherhand more beautiful in appearance? Of which not only the advantage, asI said before, but also the cultivation and the nature itself delightme; the rows of props, the joining of the heads, the tying up andpropagation of vines, and the pruning of some twigs, and the graftingof others, which I have mentioned. Why should I allude to irrigations, why to the diggings of the ground, why to the trenching by which theground is made much more productive? Why should I speak of theadvantage of manuring? I have treated of it in that book which I wroterespecting rural affairs, concerning which the learned Hesiod has notsaid a single word, tho he has written about the cultivation of theland. But Homer, who, as appears to me, lived many ages before, introduces Lærtes soothing the regret which he felt for his son bytilling the land and manuring it. Nor indeed is rural life delightfulby reason of corn-fields only and meadows and vineyards and groves, but also for its gardens and orchards; also for the feeding of cattle, the swarms of bees, and the variety of all kinds of flowers. Nor doplantings only give me delight, but also graftings, than whichagriculture has invented nothing more ingenious. .. . 

Was then their old age to be pitied who amused themselves in thecultivation of land? In my opinion, indeed, I know not whether anyother can be more happy; and not only in the discharge of duty, because to the whole race of mankind the cultivation of the land isbeneficial; but also from the amusement, which I have mentioned, andthat fulness and abundance of all things which are connected with thefood of men, and also with the worship of the gods; so that, sincesome have a desire for these things, we may again put ourselves ongood terms with pleasure. For the wine-cellar of a good and diligentmaster is always well stored; the oil-casks, the pantry also, thewhole farmhouse is richly supplied; it abounds in pigs, kids, lambs, hens, milk, cheese, honey. Then, too, the countrymen themselves callthe garden a second dessert. And then what gives a greater relish tothese things is that kind of leisure labor, fowling and hunting. Whyshould I speak of the greenness of meadows, or the rows of trees, orthe handsome appearance of vineyards and olive grounds? Let me cut thematter short. Nothing can be either more rich in use or more elegantin appearance than ground well tilled, to the enjoyment of which oldage is so far from being an obstacle that it is even an invitation andallurement. For where can that age be better warmed either by baskingin the sun or by the fire, or again be more healthfully refreshed byshades or waters? Let the young, therefore, keep to themselves theirarms, horses, spears, clubs, tennis-ball, swimmings, and races; to usold men let them leave out of many amusements the _tali_ and_tesseræ_; and even in that matter it may be as they please, since oldage can be happy without these amusements. .. . 

What, therefore, should I fear if after death I am sure either not tobe miserable or to be happy? Altho who is so foolish, even if young, as to be assured that he will live even till the evening? Nay, thatperiod of life has many more probabilities of death that ours has;young men more readily fall into diseases, suffer more severely, arecured with more difficulty, and therefore few arrive at old age. Didnot this happen so we should live better and more wisely, forintelligence, and reflection, and judgment reside in old men, and ifthere had been none of them, no states could exist at all. But Ireturn to the imminence of death. What charge is that against old age, since you see it to be common to youth also? I experienced not only inthe case of my own excellent son, but also in that of your brothers, Scipio, men plainly marked out for the highest distinction, that deathwas common to every period of life. Yet a young man hopes that he willlive a long time, which expectation an old man can not entertain. Hishope is but a foolish one; for what can be more foolish than to regarduncertainties as certainties, delusions as truths? An old man indeedhas nothing to hope for; yet he is in so much the happier state thana young one; since he has already attained what the other is onlyhoping for. The one is wishing to live long, the other has lived long. 

And yet, good gods! what is there in man's life that can be calledlong? For allow the latest period; let us anticipate the age of thekings of Tartessii. For there dwelt, as I find it recorded, a mannamed Arganthonius at Gades;[16] who reigned for eighty years, andlived 120. But to my mind, nothing whatever seems of long duration towhich there is any end. For when that arrives, then the time which haspassed has flown away; that only remains which you have secured byvirtue and right conduct. Hours indeed depart from us, and days andmonths and years; nor does past time ever return, nor can it bediscovered what is to follow. Whatever time is assigned to each tolive, with that he ought to be content; for neither need the drama beperformed entire by the actor in order to give satisfaction, providedhe be approved in whatever act he may be; nor need the wise man livetill the _plaudite_. For the short period of life is long enough forliving well and honorably, and if you should advance further, you needno more grieve than farmers do when the loveliness of spring-time hathpassed, that summer and autumn have come. For spring represents thetime of youth, and gives promise of the future fruits; the remainingseasons are intended for plucking and gathering in those fruits. Nowthe harvest of old age, as I have often said, is the recollection andabundance of blessings previously secured. In truth everything thathappens agreeably to nature is to be reckoned among blessings. What, however, is so agreeable to nature as for an old man to die which evenis the lot of the young, tho nature opposes and resists. And thus itis that young men seem to me to die just as when the violence of flameis extinguished by a flood of water; whereas old men die, as theexhausted fire goes out, spontaneously, without the exertion of anyforce; and as fruits when they are green are plucked by force from thetrees, but when ripe and mellow drop off, so violence takes away theirlives from youths, maturity from old men--a state which to me indeedis so delightful that the nearer I approach to death, I seem, as itwere, to be getting sight of land, and at length, after a long voyage, to be just coming into harbor. 

Of all the periods of life there is a definite limit; but of old agethere is no limit fixt; and life goes on very well in it, so long asyou are able to follow up and attend to the duty of your situation, and, at the same time, to care nothing about death; whence it happensthat old age is even of higher spirit and bolder than youth. Agreeableto this was the answer given to Pisistratus, [17] the tyrant, by Solon, when on the former inquiring, "in reliance on what hope he so boldlywithstood him, " the latter is said to have answered, "on old age. " Thehappiest end of life is this--when the mind and the other sensesbeing unimpaired, the same nature which put it together takes asunderher own work. As in the case of a ship or a house, he who built themtakes them down most easily; so the same nature which has compactedman most easily breaks him up. Besides, every fastening of glue, whenfresh, is with difficulty torn asunder, but easily when tried by time. Hence it is that that short remnant of life should be neither greedilycoveted nor without reason given up; and Pythagoras forbids us toabandon the station or post of life without the orders of ourcommander, that is, of God. [18] There is indeed a saying of the wiseSolon in which he declares that he does not wish his own death to beunattended by the grief and lamentation of friends. He wishes, Isuppose, that he should be dear to his friends. But I know not whetherEnnius does not say with more propriety, "Let no one pay me honor with tears, nor celebrate my funeral with mourning. "

He conceives that a death ought not to be lamented when immortalityfollows. Besides, a dying man may have some degree of consciousness, but that for a short time, especially in the case of an old man; afterdeath, indeed, consciousness either does not exist or it is a thing tobe desired. But this ought to be a subject of study from our youth tobe indifferent about death, without which study no one can be oftranquil mind. For die we certainly must, and it is uncertain whetheror not on this very day. He, therefore, who at all hours dreadsimpending death, how can he be at peace in his mind? concerning whichthere seems to be no need of such long discussion, when I call to mindnot only Lucius Brutus, who was slain in liberating his country; northe two Decii, who spurred on their steeds to a voluntary death; norMarcus Atilius, [19] who set out to execution that he might keep apromise pledged to the enemy; nor the two Scipios, who even with theirvery bodies sought to obstruct the march of the Carthaginians; noryour grandfather Lucius Paulus, [20] who by his death atoned for thetemerity of his colleague in the disgraceful defeat at Cannæ; norMarcus Marcellus, [21] whose corpse not even the most merciless foesuffered to go without the honor of sepulture; but that our legions, as I have remarked in my Antiquities, have often gone with cheerfuland undaunted mind to that place from which they believed that theyshould never return. Shall, then, well-instructed old men be afraid ofthat which young men, and they not only ignorant, but mere peasants, despise? On the whole, as it seems to me indeed, a satiety of allpursuits causes a satiety of life. There are pursuits peculiar toboyhood; do therefore young men regret the loss of them? There arealso some of early youth; does settled age, which is called middlelife, seek after these? There are also some of this period; neitherare they looked for by old age. There are some final pursuits of oldage; accordingly, as the pursuits of the earlier parts of life fallinto disuse, so also do those of old age; and when this has takenplace, satiety of life brings on the seasonable period of death. 

Indeed, I do not see why I should not venture to tell you what Imyself think concerning death; because I fancy I see it so much themore clearly in proportion as I am less distant from it. I ampersuaded that your fathers, Publius Scipio and Caius Lælius, men ofthe greatest eminence and very dear friends of mine, are living, andthat life too which alone deserves the name of life. For while we areshut up in this prison of the body, we are fulfilling, as it were, thefunction and painful task of destiny; for the heaven-born soul hasbeen degraded from its dwelling-place above, and, as it were, buriedin the earth, a situation uncongenial to its divine and immortalnature. But I believe that the immortal gods have shed souls intohuman bodies, that beings might exist who might tend the earth, and bycontemplating the order of the heavenly bodies might imitate it in themanner and regularity of their lives. Nor have reason and argumentalone influenced me thus to believe, but likewise the high name andauthority of the greatest philosophers. I used to hear that Pythagorasand the Pythagoreans, who were all but our neighbors, who wereformerly called the Italian philosophers, had no doubt that wepossess souls derived from the universal divine mind. Moreover, thearguments were conclusive to me which Socrates delivered on the lastday of his life concerning the immortality of the soul--he who waspronounced by the oracle of Apollo the wisest of all men. But why saymore? I have thus persuaded myself, such is my belief; that since suchis the activity of our souls, so tenacious their memory of things pastand their sagacity regarding things future, so many arts, so manysciences, so many discoveries, that the nature which comprizes thesequalities can not be mortal; and since the mind is ever in action andhas no source of motion, because it moves itself, I believe that itnever will find any end of motion, because it never will part fromitself; and that since the nature of the soul is uncompounded, and hasnot in itself any admixture heterogeneous and dissimilar to itself, Imaintain that it can not undergo dissolution; and if this be notpossible, it can not perish; and it is a strong argument that men knowvery many things before they are born, since when mere boys, whilethey are learning difficult subjects, they so quickly catch upnumberless ideas, that they seem not to be learning them then for thefirst time, but to remember them, and to be calling them torecollection. Thus did our Plato argue. .. . 

Let me, if you please, revert to my own views. No one will everpersuade me that either your father, Paulus, or two grandfathers, Paulus and Africanus, or the father of Africanus, or his uncle, or themany distinguished men whom it is unnecessary to recount, aimed atsuch great exploits as might reach to the recollection of posterityhad they not perceived in their mind that posterity belonged to them. Do you suppose, to boast a little of myself, after the manner of oldmen, that I should have undergone such great toils, by day and night, at home and in service, had I thought to limit my glory by the samebounds as my life? Would it not have been far better to pass an easyand quiet life without any toil or struggle? But I know not how mysoul, stretching upward, has ever looked forward to posterity, as if, when it had departed from life, then at last it would begin to live. And, indeed, unless this were the case, that souls were immortal, thesouls of the noblest of men would not aspire above all things to animmortality of glory. 

Why need I adduce that the wisest man ever dies with the greatestequanimity, the most foolish with the least? Does it not seem to youthat the soul, which sees more and further, sees that it is passing toa better state, while that body whose vision is duller, does not seeit? I, indeed, am transported with eagerness to see your fathers, whomI have respected and loved; nor in truth is it those only I desire tomeet whom I myself have known; but those also of whom I have heard orread, and have myself written. Whither, indeed, as I proceed, no oneassuredly should easily force me back, nor, as they did with Pelias, cook me again to youth. For if any god should grant me that from thisperiod of life I should become a child again and cry in the cradle, Ishould earnestly refuse it; nor in truth should I like, after havingrun, as it were, my course, to be called back to the starting-placefrom the goal. For what comfort has life? What trouble has it not, rather? But grant that it has; yet it assuredly has either satiety orlimitation (of its pleasures). For I am not disposed to lament theloss of life, which many men, and those learned men too, have oftendone; neither do I regret that I have lived, since I have lived insuch a way that I conceive I was not born in vain; and from this lifeI depart as from a temporary lodging, not as from a home. 

For nature has assigned it to us as an inn to sojourn in, not a placeof habitation. Oh, glorious day! when I shall depart to that divinecompany and assemblage of spirits, and quit this troubled and pollutedscene. For I shall go not only to those great men of whom I havespoken before, but also to my son Cato, than whom never was better manborn, nor more distinguished for pious affection, whose body wasburned by me, whereas, on the contrary, it was fitting that mineshould be burned by him. But his soul not deserting me, but oftlooking back, no doubt departed to those regions whither it saw that Imyself was destined to come. This, tho a distress to me, I seemedpatiently to endure; not that I bore it with indifference, but Icomforted myself with the recollection that the separation anddistance between us would not continue long. For these reasons, OScipio (since you said that you with Lælius were accustomed to wonderat this), old age is tolerable to me, and not only not irksome, buteven delightful. And if I am wrong in this, that I believe the soulsof men to be immortal, I willingly delude myself; nor do I desire thatthis mistake, in which I take pleasure, should be wrested from me aslong as I live; but if I, when dead, shall have no consciousness, assome narrow-minded philosophers imagine, I do not fear lest deadphilosophers should ridicule this my delusion. But if we are notdestined to be immortal, yet it is a desirable thing for a man toexpire at his fit time. For, as nature prescribes a boundary to allother things, so does she also to life. Now old age is theconsummation of life, just as of a play, from the fatigue of which weought to escape, especially when satiety is super-added. This is whatI had to say on the subject of old age, to which may you arrive! that, after having experienced the truth of those statements which you haveheard from me, you may be enabled to give them your approbation. 

II

ON THE DEATH OF HIS DAUGHTER TULLIA[22]

Yes, my dear Servius, I could indeed wish you had been with me, as yousay, at the time of my terrible trial. How much it was in your powerto help me if you had been here, by sympathizing with, and I mayalmost say, sharing equally in my grief, I readily perceive from thefact that after reading your letter I now feel myself considerablymore composed; for not only was all that you wrote just what is bestcalculated to soothe affliction, but you yourself in comforting meshowed that you too had no little pain at heart. Your son Servius, however, has made it clear, by every kindly attention which such anoccasion would permit of, both how great his respect was for myselfand also how much pleasure his kind feeling for me was likely to giveyou; and you may be sure that, while such attentions from him haveoften been more pleasant to me, they have never made me more grateful. 

It is not, however, only your arguments and your equal share--I mayalmost call it--in this affliction which comforts me, but also yourauthority; because I hold it shame in me not to be bearing my troublein a way that you, a man endowed with such wisdom, think it ought tobe borne. But at times I feel broken down, and I scarcely make anystruggle against my grief, because those consolations fail me whichunder similar calamities were never wanting to any of those otherpeople whom I put before myself as models for imitation. Both FabiusMaximus, for example, when he lost a son who had held the consulship, the hero of many a famous exploit; and Lucius Paulus, from whom twowere taken in one week; and your own kinsman Gallus; and Marcus Cato, who was deprived of a son of the rarest talents and the rarestvirtue--all these lived in times when their individual affliction wascapable of finding a solace in the distinctions they used to earn fromtheir country. 

For me, however, after being stript of all those distinctions whichyou yourself recall to me, and which I had won for myself byunparalleled exertions, only that one solace remained which has beentorn away. My thoughts were not diverted by work for my friends, or bythe administration of affairs of state; there was no pleasure inpleading in the courts; I could not bear the very sight of the SenateHouse; I felt, as was indeed too true, that I had lost all the harvestof both my industry and my success. But whenever I wanted to recollectthat all this was shared with you and other friends I could name, andwhenever I was breaking myself in and forcing my spirit to bear thesethings with patience, I always had a refuge to go to where I mightfind peace, and in whose words of comfort and sweet society I couldrid me of all my pains and griefs. Whereas now, under this terribleblow, even those old wounds which seemed to have healed up arebleeding afresh; for it is impossible for me now to find such a refugefrom my sorrows at home in the business of the state as in those daysI did in that consolation of home, which was always in store wheneverI came away sad from thoughts of state to seek for peace in herhappiness. And so I stay away both from home and from public life;because home now is no more able to make up for the sorrow I feel whenI think of our country than our country is for my sorrow at home. I amtherefore looking forward all the more eagerly to your coming, andlong to see you as early as may possibly be; no greater alleviationcan be offered me than a meeting between us for friendly intercourseand conversation. I hope, however, that your return is to take place, as I hear it is, very shortly. As for myself, while there are abundantreasons for wanting to see you as soon as possible, my principal oneis in order that we may discuss together beforehand the best method ofconduct for present circumstances, which must entirely be adapted tothe wishes of one man only, a man nevertheless who is far-seeing andgenerous, and also, as I think I have thoroughly ascertained, to menot at all ill-disposed and to you extremely friendly. But admittingthis, it is still a matter for much deliberation what is the line--Ido not say of action, but of keeping quiet--that we ought by his goodleave and favor to adopt. Farewell!

III

OF BRAVE AND ELEVATED SPIRITS[23]

A spirit altogether brave and elevated is chiefly discernible by twocharacters. The first consists in a low estimate of mere outwardcircumstances, since it is convinced that a man ought to admire, desire, or court nothing but what is virtuous and becoming; and thathe ought to succumb to no man, nor to any perturbation either ofspirit or fortune. The other thing is that, possest of such a spiritas I have just mentioned, you should perform actions which are greatand of the greatest utility, but extremely arduous, full ofdifficulties and danger both to life and the many things whichpertain to life. 

In the latter of those two characters consist all the glory, themajesty, and, I add, the utility; but the causes and the efficientmeans that form great men is in the former, which contains theprinciples that elevate the soul, and gives it a contempt fortemporary considerations. Now, this very excellence consists in twoparticulars: you are to deem that only to be good is to be virtuous, and that you be free from all mental irregularity. For we are to lookupon it as the character of a noble and an elevated soul, to slightall those considerations that the generality of mankind account greatand glorious, and to despise them, upon firm and durable principles;while strength of mind and greatness of resolution are discerned inbearing those calamities which, in the course of man's life, are manyand various, so as not to be driven from your natural disposition, norfrom the dignity of a wise man; for it is not consistent that he whois not subdued by fear should be subjugated by passion, nor that hewho has shown himself invincible by toil should be conquered bypleasure. Wherefore, we ought to watch and avoid the love of money;for nothing so truly characterizes a narrow, groveling disposition asto love riches; and nothing is more noble and more exalted than todespise riches if you have them not, and if you have them, to employthem in beneficence and liberality. 

An inordinate passion for glory, as I have already observed, islikewise to be guarded against; for it deprives us of liberty, theonly prize for which men of elevated sentiments ought to contend. Power is so far from being desirable in itself that it sometimes oughtto be refused, and sometimes to be resigned. We should likewise befree from all disorders of the mind, from all violent passion andfear, as well as languor, voluptuousness, and anger, that we maypossess that tranquillity and security which confer alike consistencyand dignity. Now, many there are, and have been, who, courting thattranquillity which I have mentioned here, have withdrawn themselvesfrom public affairs and taken refuge in retirement. Among these, someof the noblest and most prominent of our philosophers; and somepersons, of strict and grave dispositions, were unable to bear withthe manners either of the people or their rulers; and some have livedin the country, amusing themselves with the management of theirprivate affairs. Their aim was the same as that of the powerful, thatthey might enjoy their liberty, without wanting anything or obeyingany person; for the essence of liberty is to live just as youplease. .. . 

But, since most persons are of opinion that the achievements of warare more glorious than civil affairs, this judgment needs to berestricted; for many, as generally is the case with high minds andenterprising spirits, especially if they are adapted to military lifeand are fond of warlike achievements, have often sought opportunitiesof war from their fondness for glory; but if we are willing to judgetruly, many are the civil employments of greater importance, and ofmore renown, than the military. 

For tho Themistocles is justly praised--his name is now moreillustrious than that of Solon, and his glorious victory at Salamisis mentioned preferably to the policy of Solon, by which he firstconfirmed the power of the Areopagus--the one should not be consideredmore illustrious than the other; for the one availed his country onlyfor once--the other is lastingly advantageous; because by it the lawsof the Athenians, and the institutions of their ancestors, arepreserved. Now, Themistocles could not have stated any respect inwhich he benefited the Areopagus, but Solon might with truth declarethat Themistocles had been advantaged by him; for the war was carriedon by the counsels of that senate which was constituted by Solon. 

We may make the same observation with regard to Pausanias[24] andLysander among the Lacedæmonians; for all the addition of empire whichtheir conquests are supposed to have brought to their country is notto be compared to the laws and economy of Lycurgus; for indeed, owingto these very causes they had armies more subordinate and courageous. In my eyes, Marcus Scaurus (who flourished when I was but a boy) wasnot inferior to Caius Marius;[25] nor, after I came to have a concernin the government, Quintus Catulus[26] to Cneius Pompey. An armyabroad is but of small service, unless there be a wise administrationat home. Nor did that good man and great general Africanus perform amore important service to his country when he razed Numantia than didthat private citizen P. Nasica[27] when at the same period he killedTiberius Gracchus. An action which it is true was not merely of acivil nature; for it approaches to a military character, as being theresult of force and courage; but it was an action performed without anarmy, and from political considerations. .. . 

Now all that excellence which springs from a lofty and noble nature isaltogether produced by the mental and not by the corporeal powers. Meanwhile, the body ought to be kept in such action and order as thatit may be always ready to obey the dictates of reason and wisdom, incarrying them into execution, and in persevering under hardships. Butwith regard to that _honestas_ we are treating of, it consists whollyin the thoughtful application of the mind, by which the civilians whopreside over public affairs are equally serviceable to their countryas they who wage wars. For it often happens that by such counsels warsare either not entered into or they are brought to a termination;sometimes they are even undertaken, as the third Punic war was by theadvice of Marcus Cato, whose authority was powerful, even after he wasdead. 

Wisdom in determining is therefore preferable to courage in fighting;but in this we are to take care that we are not swayed by an aversionto fighting rather than by a consideration of expediency. Now inengaging in war we ought to make it appear that we have no other viewthan peace. But the character of a brave and resolute man is not to beruffled with adversity, and not to be in such confusion as to quit hispost, as we say, but to preserve a presence of mind, and the exerciseof reason, without departing from his purpose. And while this is thecharacteristic of a lofty spirit, so this also is that of a powerfulintellect; namely, to anticipate futurity in thought, and to concludebeforehand what may happen on either side, and, upon that, whatmeasures to pursue, and never be surprized so as to say, "I had notthought of that. " Such are the operations of a genius, capacious andelevated; of such a one as relies on its own prudence and counsel; butto rush precipitately into the field, and to encounter an enemy withmere physical force has somewhat in it that is barbarous and brutal. When the occasion, however, and its necessity compel it, we shouldresist with force, and prefer death to slavery or dishonor. 

IV

OF SCIPIO'S DEATH AND OF FRIENDSHIP[28]

Should I say that I am not distrest by the loss of Scipio, philosophers may determine with what propriety I should do so; butassuredly I should be guilty of falsehood. For I am distrest at beingbereaved of such a friend, as no one, I consider, will ever be to meagain, and, as I can confidently assert, no one ever was; but I am notdestitute of a remedy. I comfort myself, and especially with thisconsolation, that I am free from that error by which most men, on thedecease of friends, are wont to be tormented; for I feel that no evilhas happened to Scipio; it has befallen myself, if indeed it hashappened to any. Now to be above measure distrest at one's owntroubles is characteristic of the man who loves not his friend, buthimself. In truth, as far as he is concerned, who can deny that hisend was glorious? for unless he had chosen to wish for immortality, ofwhich he had not the slightest thought, what did he fail to obtainwhich it was lawful for a man to wish for? A man who, as soon as hegrew up, by his transcendent merit far surpassed those sanguine hopesof his countrymen which they had conceived regarding him when a mereboy, who never stood for the consulship, yet was made Consul twice; onthe first occasion, before his time; on the second, at the proper ageas regarded himself, tho for the commonwealth almost too late; who, byoverthrowing two cities, [29] most hostile to our empire, put an endnot only to all present but all future wars. What shall I say of hismost engaging manners; of his dutiful conduct to his mother; hisgenerosity to his sisters; his kindness to his friends; hisuprightness toward all? These are known to you; and how dear he was tothe state was displayed by its mourning at his death. .. . 

The authority of the ancients has more weight with me, either that ofour own ancestors, who paid such sacred honors to the dead, whichsurely they would not have done if they thought those honors did in noway affect them, or that of those who once lived in this country, andenlightened, by their institutions and instructions, Magna Græcia[30](which now indeed is entirely destroyed, but then was flourishing), or of him who was pronounced by the oracle of Apollo to be the wisestof men, who did not say first one thing and then another, as isgenerally done, but always the same; namely, that the souls of men aredivine, and that when they have departed from the body, a return toheaven is opened to them, and the speediest to the most virtuous andjust. This same opinion was also held by Scipio; for he indeed, a veryfew days before his death, as if he had a presentiment of it, whenPhilus and Manilius were present, and many others, and you also, Scævola, had gone with me, for three days descanted on the subject ofgovernment; of which discussion the last was almost entirely on theimmortality of souls, which he said he had learned in sleep through avision from Africanus. If this be the fact, that the spirit of thebest man most easily flies away in death, as from the prison-house andchains of the body, whose passage to the gods can we conceive to havebeen readier than that of Scipio? Wherefore, to be afflicted at thishis departure, I fear, would be the part rather of an envious personthan of a friend. .. . 

But yet I so enjoy the recollection of our friendship that I seem tohave lived happily because I lived with Scipio, with whom I had acommon anxiety on public and private affairs, and with whom my lifeboth at home and abroad was associated, and there existed that, wherein consists the entire strength of friendship, an entireagreement of inclinations, pursuits, and sentiments. That characterfor wisdom, therefore, which Fannius a little while ago mentioned doesnot so delight me, especially since it is undeserved, as the hope thatthe recollection of our friendship will last forever. And it is themore gratifying to me because scarcely in the history of the world arethree or four pairs of friends mentioned by name; and I indulge in thehope that the friendship of Scipio and Lælius will be remembered. .. . 

I can only urge you to prefer friendship to all human possessions; forthere is nothing so suited to our nature, so well adapted toprosperity or adversity. But first of all, I am of opinion that exceptamong the virtuous friendship can not exist; I do not analyze thisprinciple too closely, as they do who inquire with too great nicetyinto those things, perhaps with truth on their side, but with littlegeneral advantage; for they maintain that there is no good man but thewise man. Be it so, yet they define wisdom to be such as no mortal hasever attained to; whereas we ought to contemplate those things whichexist in practise and in common life, and not the subjects of fictionsor of our own wishes. I would never pretend to say that CaiusFabricius, Marius Curius, and Titus Coruncanius, whom our ancestorsesteemed wise, were wise according to the standard of these moralists. Wherefore let them keep to themselves the name of wisdom, bothinvidious and unintelligible, and let them allow that these were goodmen--nay, they will not even do that; they will declare that this cannot be granted except to a wise man. 

Let us therefore proceed with our dull genius, as they say. Those whoso conduct themselves and so live that their honor, their integrity, their justice, and liberality are approved; so that there is not inthem any covetousness, or licentiousness, or boldness; and that theyare of great consistency, as those men whom I have mentionedabove--let us consider these worthy of the appellation of good men, asthey have been accounted such, because they follow (as far as men areable) nature, which is the best guide of a good life. For I seem tomyself to have this view, that we are so formed by nature that thereshould be a certain social tie among all; stronger, however, as eachapproaches nearer us. Accordingly, citizens are preferable toforeigners, and relatives to strangers; for with the last-named, Nature herself has created a friendly feeling, tho this has notsufficient strength. For in this respect friendship is superior torelationship, because from relationship benevolence can be withdrawnand from friendship it can not; for with the withdrawal of benevolencethe very name of friendship is done away, while that of relationshipremains. Now how great the power of friendship is may be best gatheredfrom this consideration, that out of the boundless society of thehuman race, which Nature herself has joined together, friendship is amatter so contracted, and brought into so narrow a compass, that thewhole of affection is confined to two, or at any rate to very few. 

Now friendship is nothing else than a complete union of feeling on allsubjects, divine and human, accompanied by kindly feeling andattachment, than which, indeed, I am not aware whether, with theexception of wisdom, anything better has been bestowed on man by theimmortal gods. Some men prefer riches, others good health, othersinfluence, others again honors, many prefer even pleasures; the last, indeed, is the characteristic of beasts; while the former are fleetingand uncertain, depending not so much on our own purpose as on thefickleness of fortune. Whereas those who place the supreme good invirtue, therein do admirably; but this very virtue itself both begetsand constitutes friendship; nor without this virtue can friendshipexist at all. Now let us define this virtue according to the usage oflife and of our common language; and let us not measure it, as certainlearned persons do, by pomp of language; and let us include among thegood those who are so accounted--the Paulli, the Catos, the Galli, theScipios, and the Phili; with these men ordinary life is content; andlet us pass over those who are nowhere found to exist. Among men ofthis kind, therefore, friendship finds facilities so great that I canscarcely describe them. 

In the first place--to whom can life be "worth living, " as Enniussays, who does not repose on the mutual kind feeling of some friend?What can be more delightful than to have one to whom you can speak onall subjects just as to yourself? Where would be the great enjoymentin prosperity if you had not one to rejoice in it equally withyourself? And adversity would indeed be difficult to endure withoutsome one who would bear it even with greater regret than yourself. Inshort, all other objects that are sought after are severally suited tosome one single purpose--riches, that you may spend them; power thatyou may be courted; honors, that you may be extolled; pleasures, thatyou may enjoy them; good health, that you may be exempt from harm, andperform the functions of the body. Whereas friendship comprizes thegreatest number of objects possible; wherever you turn yourself, it isat hand; shut out of no place, never out of season, never irksome; andtherefore we do not use fire and water, as they say, on more occasionsthan we do friendship. And I am not now speaking of commonplace orordinary friendship (tho even that brings delight and benefit), but ofreal and true friendship, such as belonged to those of whom very feware recorded; for prosperity, friendship renders more brilliant, andadversity more supportable, by dividing and communicating it. 

And while friendship embraces very many and great advantages, sheundoubtedly surpasses all in this, that she shines with a brillianthope over the future, and never suffers the spirit to be weakened orto sink. Besides, he who looks on a true friend looks, as it were, upon a kind of image of himself; wherefore friends, tho absent, arestill present; tho in poverty, they are rich; tho weak, yet in theenjoyment of health; and, what is still more difficult to assert, thodead they are alive; so entirely does the honor, the memory, theregret of friends attend them; from which circumstance the death ofthe one seems to be happy, and the life of the other praiseworthy;nay, should you remove from nature the cement of kind feelings, neither a house nor a city will be able to stand; even the cultivationof the land will not continue. If it be not clearly perceived howgreat is the power of friendship and concord, it can be distinctlyinferred from quarrels and dissensions; for what house is there soestablished, or what state so firmly settled, that may not utterly beoverthrown by hatred and dissension? From which it may be determinedhow much advantage there is in friendship. They relate, indeed, that acertain learned man of Agrigentum[31] promulgated in Greek verses thedoctrine that all things which cohere throughout the whole world, andall things that are the subjects of motion, are brought together byfriendship, and are dispelled by discord; and this principle all menunderstand, and illustrate by their conduct. Therefore, if at any timeany act of a friend has been exhibited, either in undergoing or insharing dangers, who is there that does not extol such an act with thehighest praise?. .. 

Now if such be the influence of integrity, that we love it even inthose whom we have never seen, and, what is much more, even in anenemy, what wonder if men's feelings are affected when they seem todiscover the goodness and virtue of those with whom they may becomeconnected by intercourse? altho love is confirmed by the reception ofkindness, and by the discovery of an earnest sympathy, and by closefamiliarity, which things being added to the first emotion of the mindand the affections, there is kindled a large amount of kindly feeling. And if any imagine that this proceeds from a sense of weakness, sothat there shall be secured a friend, by whom a man may obtain thatwhich he wants, they leave to friendship a mean and, indeed, if I mayso speak, anything but respectable origin, when they make her to beborn of indigence and want; were this the case, then in proportion asa man judged that there were the least resources in himself, preciselyin that degree would he be best qualified for friendship, whereas thefact is far otherwise. For just as a man has most confidence inhimself, and as he is most completely fortified by worth and wisdom, so that he needs no one's assistance, and feels that all his resourcesreside in himself, in the same proportion he is most highlydistinguished for seeking out and forming friendships. For what didAfricanus want of me? Nothing whatever, nor indeed did I need aughtfrom him; but I loved him from admiration of his excellence; he inturn perhaps was attached to me from some high opinion which heentertained of my character, and association fostered our affection. But altho many and great advantages ensued, yet it was not from anyhope of these that the causes of our attachment sprang; for as we arebeneficent and liberal not to exact favor in return (for we are notusurers in kind actions), but by nature are inclined to liberality, thus I think that friendship is to be desired, not attracted by thehope of reward, but because the whole of its profit consists in loveonly. From such opinions, they who, after the fashion of beasts, refereverything to pleasure, widely differ, and no great wonder, since theycan not look up to anything lofty, magnificent, or divine who eastall their thoughts on an object so mean and contemptible. 

Therefore let us exclude such persons altogether from our discourse;and let us ourselves hold this opinion, that the sentiment of lovingand the attachment of kind feelings are produced by nature when theevidence of virtue has been established; and they who have eagerlysought the last-named draw nigh and attach themselves to it, that theymay enjoy the friendship and character of the individual they havebegun to love, and that they may be commensurate and equal inaffection, and more inclined to confer a favor than to claim anyreturn. And let this honorable struggle be maintained between them; sonot only will the greatest advantages be derived from friendship, butits origin from nature rather than from a sense of weakness will be atonce more impressive and more true. For if it were expediency thatcemented friendships, the same when changed would dissolve them; butbecause nature can never change, therefore true friendships areeternal. .. . 

Listen, then, my excellent friends, to the discussion which was veryfrequently held by me and Scipio on the subject of friendship; althohe indeed used to say that nothing was more difficult than thatfriendship should continue to the end of life; for it often happenedeither that the same course was not expedient to both parties or thatthey held different views of politics; he remarked also that thecharacters of men often changed, in some cases by adversity, inothers by old age becoming oppressive; and he derived an authorityfor such notions from a comparison with early life, because thestrongest attachments of boys are constantly laid aside with theprætexta; even if they should maintain it to manhood, yet sometimes itis broken off by rivalry, for a dowried wife, or some other advantagewhich they can not both attain. And even if men should be carried onstill further in their friendship, yet that feeling is oftenundermined should they fall into rivalry for preferments; for there isno greater enemy to friendship than covetousness of money, in mostmen, and even in the best, an emulous desire of high offices andglory, in consequence of which the most bitter enmities have oftenarisen between the dearest friends. For great dissensions, and thosein most instances justifiable, arise when some request is made offriends which is improper, as, for instance, that they should becomeeither the ministers of their lust or their supporters in theperpetration of wrong; and they who refuse to do so, it matters nothowever virtuously, yet are accused of discarding the claims offriendship by those persons whom they are unwilling to oblige; butthey who dare to ask anything of a friend, by their very request seemto imply that they would do anything for the sake of that friend; bythe complaining of such persons, not only are long-establishedintimacies put an end to, but endless animosities are engendered. Allthese many causes, like so many fatalities, are ever threateningfriendship, so that, he said, to escape them all seemed to him a proofnot merely of wisdom, but even of good fortune. .. . 

Let this, therefore, be established as a primary law concerningfriendship, that we expect from our friends only what is honorable, and for our friends' sake do what is honorable; that we should notwait till we are asked; that zeal be ever ready, and reluctance farfrom us; but that we take pleasure in freely giving our advice; thatin our friendship, the influence of our friends, when they give goodadvice, should have great weight; and that this be employed toadmonish not only candidly, but even severely, if the case shallrequire, and that we give heed to it when so employed; for, as tocertain persons whom I understand to have been esteemed wise men inGreece, I am of opinion that some strange notions were entertained bythem; but there is nothing which they do not follow up with too greatsubtlety; among the rest, that excessive friendships should beavoided, lest it should be necessary for one to feel anxiety for many;that every one has enough, and more than enough, of his own affairs;that to be needlessly implicated in those of other people isvexatious; that it was most convenient to hold the reins of friendshipas loose as possible, so as either to tighten or slacken them when youplease; for they argue that the main point toward a happy life isfreedom from care, which the mind can not enjoy if one man be, as itwere, in travail for others. 

Nay, they tell us that some are accustomed to declare, still moreunfeelingly (a topic which I have briefly touched upon just above), that friendships should be cultivated for the purpose of protectionand assistance, and not for kind feeling or affection; and thereforethe less a man possesses of independence and of strength, in the samedegree he most earnestly desires friendships; that thence it arisesthat women seek the support of friendship more than men, and the poormore than the rich, and persons in distress rather than those who areconsidered prosperous. Admirable philosophy! for they seem to takeaway the sun from the world who withdraw friendship from life; for wereceive nothing better from the immortal gods, nothing moredelightful; for what is this freedom from care?--in appearances, indeed, flattering; but, in many eases, in reality to be disdained. Nor is it reasonable to undertake any honorable matter or action lestyou should be anxious, or to lay it aside when undertaken; for if wefly from care, we must fly from virtue also; for it is impossible thatshe can, without some degree of distress, feel contempt anddetestation for qualities opposed to herself; just as kind-heartednessfor malice, temperance for profligacy, and bravery for cowardice. Accordingly, you see that upright men are most distrest by unjustactions; the brave with the cowardly; the virtuous with theprofligate; and, therefore, this is the characteristic of awell-regulated mind, both to be well pleased with what is excellentand to be distrest with what is contrary. Wherefore, if trouble ofmind befall a wise man (and assuredly it will, unless we suppose thatall humanity is extirpated from his mind), what reason is there why weshould altogether remove friendship from life, lest because of it weshould take upon ourselves some troubles? for what difference isthere (setting the emotions of the mind aside), I do not say between aman and a beast, but between a man and a stone, or log, or anything ofthat kind? For they do not deserve to be listened to who would havevirtue to be callous and made of iron, as it were, which indeed is, asin other matters, so in friendship also, tender and susceptible; sothat friends are loosened, as it were, by happy events, and drawntogether by distresses. 

Wherefore the anxiety which has often to be felt for a friend is notof such force that it should remove friendship from the world, anymore than that the virtues, because they bring with them certain caresand troubles, should therefore be discarded. For when it producesfriendship (as I said above), should any indication of virtue shineforth, to which a congenial mind may attach and unite itself--whenthis happens, affection must necessarily arise. For what is sounmeaning as to take delight in many vain things, such as preferments, glory, magnificent buildings, clothing and adornment of the body, andnot to take an extreme delight in a soul endued with virtue, in such asoul as can either love or (so to speak) love in return? for there isnothing more delightful than the repayment of kindness and theinterchange of devotedness and good offices. Now if we add this, whichmay with propriety be added, that nothing so allures and draws anyobject to itself as congeniality does friendship, it will of course beadmitted as true that the good must love the good, and unite them tothem selves, just as if connected by relationship and nature; fornothing is more apt to seek and seize on its like than nature. Wherefore this certainly is clear, Fannius and Scævola (in myopinion), that among the good a liking for the good is, as it were, inevitable; and this indeed is appointed by Nature herself as the veryfountain of friendship. 

But the same kind disposition belongs also to the multitude; forvirtue is not inhuman, or cruel, or haughty, since she is accustomedto protect even whole nations, and to adopt the best measures fortheir welfare, which assuredly she would not do did she shrink fromthe affection of the vulgar. And to myself, indeed, those who formfriendships with a view to advantage seem to do away with its mostendearing bond; for it is not so much the advantage obtained through afriend as the mere love of that friend which delights; and then onlywhat has proceeded from a friend becomes delightful if it hasproceeded from zealous affection; and that friendship should becultivated from a sense of necessity is so far from being the casethat those who, being endowed with power and wealth, and especiallywith virtue (in which is the strongest support of friendship), haveleast need of another, are most liberal and generous. Yet I am notsure whether it is requisite that friends should never stand in anyneed; for wherein would any devotedness of mine to him have beenexerted if Scipio had never stood in need of my advice or assistanceat home or abroad? Wherefore friendship has not followed uponadvantage, but advantage on friendship. 

Persons, therefore, who are wallowing in indulgence will not need tobe listened to if ever they shall descant upon friendship, which theyhave known neither by experience nor by theory. For who is there, bythe faith of gods and men, who would desire, on the condition of hisloving no one, and himself being loved by none, to roll in affluence, and live in a superfluity of all things? For this is the life oftyrants, in which undoubtedly there can be no confidence, noaffection, no steady dependence on attachment; all is perpetuallymistrust and disquietude--there is no room for friendship. For who canlove either him whom he fears or him by whom he thinks he himself isfeared? Yet are they courted, solely in hypocrisy, for a time;because, if perchance (as it frequently happens) they have beenbrought low, then it is perceived how destitute they were of friends. And this, they say, Tarquin[32] exprest; that when going into exile, he found out whom he had as faithful friends, and whom unfaithfulones, since then he could no longer show gratitude to either party;altho I wonder that, with such haughtiness and impatience of temper, he could find one at all. And as the character of the individual whomI have mentioned could not obtain true friends, so the riches of manymen of rank exclude all faithful friendship; for not only is Fortuneblind herself, but she commonly renders blind those whom sheembraces. .. . 

He who, therefore, shall have shown himself in both cases, as regardsfriendship, worthy, consistent, and stedfast; such a one we ought toesteem of a class of persons extremely rare--nay, almost godlike. Now, the foundation of that stedfastness and constancy, which we seek infriendship, is sincerity. For nothing is stedfast which is insincere. Besides, it is right that one should be chosen who is frank andgood-natured, and congenial in his sentiments; one, in fact, who isinfluenced by the same motives, all of which qualities have a tendencyto create sincerity. For it is impossible for a wily and tortuousdisposition to be sincere. Nor in truth can the man who has nosympathy from nature, and who is not moved by the same considerations, be either attached or steady. To the same requisites must be addedthat he shall neither take delight in bringing forward charges norbelieve them when they arise, all of which causes belong to thatconsistent principle of which now for some time I have been treating. Thus the remark is true which I made at first that friendship canexist only among the good; for it is the part of a good man (whom atthe same time we may call a wise man) to observe these two rules infriendship: first, that there shall be nothing pretended or simulated(for even to hate openly better becomes the ingenuous man than by hislooks to conceal his sentiments); in the next place, that not onlydoes he repel charges when brought (against his friends) by any one, but is not himself suspicious, ever fancying that some infidelity hasbeen committed by his friend. To all this there should be added acertain suavity of conversation and manners, affording, as it does, noinconsiderable zest to friendship. Now solemnity and gravity on alloccasions, certainly, carry with them dignity; but friendship ought tobe easier and more free and more pleasant, and tending more to everykind of politeness and good nature. .. . 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: From the "Cato Major, an Essay on Old Age. " Translated byCyrus R. Edmonds. This work is composed in the form of a dialog, inwhich, in the person of Cato the Censor as speaker, the benefits ofold age are pointed out. ]

[Footnote 5: A famous athlete who was many times crowned at thePythian and Olympian games. ]

[Footnote 6: Cneius Scipio was Consul in 222, and with Marcelluscompleted the conquest of Cisalpine Gaul. He served with his brotherPublius Cicero against the Carthaginians in Spain, where, afterseveral victories, both were slain in 212 B. C. ]

[Footnote 7: Lucius Metellus, a Roman general who defeated theCarthaginians at Panormus, now Palermo, Sicily, in 250 B. C. ]

[Footnote 8: Masinissa, king of a small territory in northern Africa, was at first an ally of Carthage against Rome, but afterward became anally of Rome against Carthage. ]

[Footnote 9: The translator explains that the speeches here referredto, as collected and published by Cato, numbered about 150. Cato wasknown to his contemporaries as "the Roman Demosthenes. " Later writersoften referred to him as "Cato the orator. "]

[Footnote 10: Archytas was a Greek philosopher, eminent also asstatesman, mathematician, and general. He lived about 400 B. C. , and iscredited with having saved the life of Plato through his influencewith Dionysius, the tyrant of Syracuse. He was seven times general ofthe army of Tarentum and successful in all his campaigns; eminent alsofor domestic virtues. He is pronounced by a writer in Smith's"Dictionary" to have been "among the very greatest men of antiquity. "He was drowned while making a voyage in the Adriatic. ]

[Footnote 11: Caudium was a Samnite town near which the Romans weredefeated by Pontius Herennius. ]

[Footnote 12: Not the Appius Claudius from whom the Appian Way and oneof the great aqueducts were named. The older Appius Claudius, herereferred to, lived in the century that followed Plato. ]

[Footnote 13: Titus Flaminius, general and statesman, was Consul in198 B. C. It was not Titus, but Caius Flaminius, who built the famouscircus and road bearing his name. Caius lived at an earlier period. ]

[Footnote 14: Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, the eminent military genius, who several times defeated the Romans before he was finally overthrownby them at Beneventum in 275 B. C. ]

[Footnote 15: Livius Andronicus, who lived in Rome about 240 B. C. ]

[Footnote 16: A small island (now a peninsula), lying off the coast ofSpain. It is to-day called Cadiz, but anciently was known as Erythia, Tartessus, and Gades. It was founded about 1100 B. C. , by thePhenicians, of whose western commerce it was the center. ]

[Footnote 17: The tyrant of Athens who reigned thirty-three years anddied about 527 B. C. ]

[Footnote 18: Melmoth has commented on this passage that, althosuicide too generally prevailed among the Greeks and Romans, thewisest philosophers condemned it. "Nothing, " he says, "can be moreclear and explicit" than the prohibition imposed by Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato. ]

[Footnote 19: Better known as the famous Regulus, whose alleged speechto the "Conscript Fathers" has been declaimed by generations ofschoolboys. ]

[Footnote 20: Lucius Paulus died at the battle of Cannæ, which wasprecipitated by his colleague Terentius Varro in 260 B. C. , 40, 000Romans being killed by the Carthaginians. ]

[Footnote 21: Marcellus, a Roman consul, who fought against Hannibaland was killed in an ambuscade. ]

[Footnote 22: Cicero's daughter was born about 79 B. C. , and thricemarried, the last time to Dolabella, who has been described as "one ofthe most profligate men of a profligate age. " She was divorced fromDolabella in 44 B. C. , gave birth to a son soon afterward, and died inthe same year. Cicero's letter was written in reply to one which hehad received from Servius Sulpicius, a celebrated Roman jurist. Cicerointended to erect a temple as a memorial to Tullia, but the death ofCæsar and the unsettled state of public affairs that ensued, and inwhich Cicero was concerned, prevented him from doing so. ]

[Footnote 23: From Book I of the "Offices. " Translated by Cyrus R. Edmonds. ]

[Footnote 24: Pausanias, a Spartan general, was the son ofCloembrotus, the king of Sparta, killed at the battle of Leuctra. Pausanias commanded at Platæa; but having conducted a treasonablecorrespondence with Xerxes, was starved to death as a punishment. ]

[Footnote 25: The general who contended against Sulla in the Civilwar. ]

[Footnote 26: Catulus was consul with Marius in 102 B. C. He acted withSulla during the Civil war. ]

[Footnote 27: Nasica, "a fierce and stiff-necked aristocrat, " was ofthe family of Scipios. When the consuls refused to resort to violenceagainst Tiberius Gracchus, it was he who led the senators forth fromtheir meeting-place against the popular assembly outside, with whomensued a fight, in which Gracchus was killed by a blow from a club. Nasica left Rome soon after, seeking safety. After spending some timeas a wandering exile, he died at Pergamus. ]

[Footnote 28: From the Dialogue on "Friendship. " Translated by CyrusE. Edmonds. Lælius, a Roman who was contemporary with the youngerScipio, is made the speaker in the passage here quoted. Lælius, was ason of Caius Lælius, the friend and companion of the elder Scipio, whose actions are so interwoven with those of Scipio that a writer inSmith's "Dictionary" says, "It is difficult to relate themseparately. " The younger Lælius was intimate with the younger Scipioin a degree almost as remarkable as his father had been with theelder. The younger, immortalized by Cicero's treatise on Friendship, was born about 186 B. C. , and was a man of fine culture noted as anorator. His personal worth was so generally esteemed that it survivedto Seneca's day. One of Seneca's injunctions to a friend was that heshould "live like Lælius. "]

[Footnote 29: Scipio Africanus minor by whom Carthage was destroyed in146 B. C. , and Numantia, a town of Spain, was destroyed in 133 B. C. From the letter he obtained the surname of Numantinus. ]

[Footnote 30: Magna Græcia was a name given by the ancients to thatpart of southern Italy which, before the rise of the Roman state, wascolonized by Greeks. Its time of greatest splendor was the seventh andsixth centuries B. C. ; that is, intermediate between the Homeric ageand the Periclean. Among its leading cities were Cumæ, Sybaris, Locri, Regium, Tarentum, Heraclea, and Pæstum. At the last-named placeimposing ruins still survive. ]

[Footnote 31: Empedocles, philosopher, poet, and historian, who livedet Agrigentum in Sicily, about 490-430 B. C. , and wrote a poem on thedoctrines of Pythagoras. A legend has survived that he jumped into thecrater of Etna, in order that people might conclude, from his completedisappearance, that he was a god. Matthew Arnold's poem on thisincident is among his better-known works. ]

[Footnote 32: Tarquinius Superbus, seventh and last King of Rome, occupied the throne for twenty-five years, and as a consequence of therape of Lucretia by his son Sextus was banished about 509 B. C. ]

JULIUS CÆSAR

 Born in 100 B. C. ; assassinated in 44; famous as general, statesman, orator, and writer; served in Mitylene in 80; captured by pirates in 76; questor in 68; pontifex maximus in 63; propretor in Spain in 61; member of the First Triumvirate in 60; Consul in 59; defeated the Helvetii in 58; invaded Britain in 55 and 54; crossed the Rhine in 55; crossed the Rubicon and began the Civil war in 49; dictator from 49 to 45; defeated Pompey in 48; reformed the calendar in 46; refused the diadem in 44; assassinated in the senate house in 44. [33]

I

THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE ACROSS THE RHINE[34]

Cæsar, for those reasons which I have mentioned, had resolved to crossthe Rhine; but to cross by ships he neither deemed to be sufficientlysafe nor considered consistent with his own dignity or that of theRoman people. Therefore, altho the greatest difficulty in forming abridge was presented to him, on account of the breadth, rapidity, anddepth of the river, he nevertheless considered that it ought to beattempted by him, or that his army ought not otherwise to be led over. He devised this plan of a bridge: he joined together, at the distanceof two feet, two piles, each a foot and half thick, sharpened a littleat the lower end, and proportioned in length to the depth of theriver. 

After he had, by means of engines, sunk these into the river, and fixtthem at the bottom, and then driven them in with rammers, not quiteperpendicularly, like a stake, but bending forward and sloping, so asto incline in the direction of the current of the river; he alsoplaced two [other piles] opposite to these, at the distance of fortyfeet lower down, fastened together in the same manner, but directedagainst the force and current of the river. Both these, moreover, werekept firmly apart by beams two feet thick (the space which the bindingof the piles occupied), laid in at their extremities between twobraces on each side; and in consequence of these being in differentdirections and fastened on sides the one opposite to the other, sogreat was the strength of the work, and such the arrangement of thematerials, that in proportion as the greater body of water dashedagainst the bridge, so much the closer were its parts held fastenedtogether. These beams were bound together by timber laid over them inthe direction of the length of the bridge, and were [then] coveredwith laths and hurdles; and, in addition to this, piles were driveninto the water obliquely, at the lower side of the bridge, and theseserving as buttresses, and being connected with every portion of thework, sustained the force of the stream; and there were others alsoabove the bridge, at a moderate distance, that if trunks of trees orvessels were floated down the river by the barbarians for the purposeof destroying the work, the violence of such things might bediminished by these defenses, and might not injure the bridge. 

Within ten days after the timber began to be collected, the whole workwas completed, and the whole army led over. Cæsar, leaving a strongguard at each end of the bridge, hastens into the territories of theSigambri. In the mean time, ambassadors from several nations come tohim, whom, on their suing for peace and alliance, he answers in acourteous manner, and orders hostages to be brought to him. But theSigambri, at the very time the bridge was begun to be built, madepreparations for a flight (by the advice of such of the Tenchtheri andUsipetes as they had among them), and quitted their territories andconveyed away all their possessions, and concealed themselves indeserts and woods. 

Cæsar, having remained in their territories a few days, and burned alltheir villages and houses, and cut down their corn, proceeded into theterritories of the Ubii; and having promised them his assistance, ifthey were ever harassed by the Suevi, [35] he learned from them theseparticulars: that the Suevi, after they had by means of their scoutsfound that the bridge was being built, had called a council, accordingto their custom, and sent orders to all parts of their state toremove from the towns and convey their children, wives, and all theirpossessions into the woods, and that all who could bear arms shouldassemble in one place; that the place thus chosen was nearly thecenter of those regions which the Suevi possest; that in this spotthey had resolved to await the arrival of the Romans, and give thembattle there. When Cæsar discovered this, having already accomplishedall these things on account of which he had resolved to lead his armyover--namely, to strike fear into the Germans, take vengeance on theSigambri, and free the Ubii from the invasion of the Suevi, havingspent altogether eighteen days beyond the Rhine, and thinking he hadadvanced far enough to serve both honor and interest--he returned intoGaul, and cut down the bridge. 

II

THE INVASION OF BRITAIN[36]

The interior portion of Britain is inhabited by those of whom they saythat it is handed down by tradition that they were born in the islanditself; the maritime portion by those who had passed over from thecountry of the Belgæ[37] for the purpose of plunder and making war;almost all of whom are called by the names of those states from whichbeing sprung they went thither, and having waged war, continued thereand began to cultivate the lands. The number of the people iscountless, and their buildings exceedingly numerous, for the most partvery like those of the Gauls; the number of cattle is great. They useeither brass or iron rings, determined at a certain weight, as theirmoney. Tin is produced in the midland regions; in the maritime, iron;but the quantity of it is small; they employ brass, which is imported. There, as in Gaul, is timber of every description, except beech andfir. They do not regard it lawful to eat the hare and the cock and thegoose; they, however, breed them for amusement and pleasure. Theclimate is more temperate than in Gaul, the cold being less severe. 

The island is triangular in its form, and one of its sides is oppositeto Gaul. One angle of this side, which is in Kent, whither almost allships from Gaul are directed, [looks] to the east; the lower looks tothe south. This side extends about 500 miles. Another side lies towardSpain, [38] and the west, on which part is Ireland, less, as isreckoned, than Britain, by one half; but the passage [from it] intoBritain is of equal distance with that from Gaul. In the middle ofthis voyage is an island which is called Mona;[39] many smallerislands besides are supposed to lie [there], of which islands somehave written that at the time of the winter solstice it is nightthere for thirty consecutive days. We, in our inquiries about thatmatter, ascertained nothing, except that, by accurate measurementswith water, we perceived the nights to be shorter there than on thecontinent. The length of this side, as their account states, is 700miles. The third side is toward the north, to which portion of theisland no land is opposite; but an angle of that side looksprincipally toward Germany. This side is considered to be 800 miles inlength. Thus the whole island is [about] 2, 000 miles in circumference. 

The most civilized of all these nations are they who inhabit Kent, which is entirely a maritime district, nor do their customs differmuch from Gallic. Most of the inland inhabitants do not sow corn, butlive on milk and flesh, and are clad with skins. All the Britains, indeed, dye themselves with wood, which occasions a bluish color, andthereby have a more terrible appearance in fight. They wear their hairlong, and have every part of their body shaved except their head andupper lip. Ten and even twelve have wives common to them, andparticularly brothers among brothers, and parents among theirchildren; but if there be any issue by these wives, they are reputedto be the children of those by whom respectively each was firstespoused when a virgin. 

The horse and charioteers of the enemy contended vigorously in askirmish with our cavalry on the march; yet so that our men wereconquerors in all parts, and drove them to their woods and hills; but, having slain a great many, they pursued too eagerly, and lost some oftheir men. However, the enemy, after some time had elapsed, when ourmen were off their guard, and occupied in the fortification of thecamp, rushed out of the woods, and making an attack upon those whowere placed on duty before the camp, fought in a determined manner;and two cohorts being sent by Cæsar to their relief, and theseseverally the first of two legions, when these had taken up theirposition at a very small distance from each other, as our men weredisconcerted by the unusual mode of battle, the enemy broke throughthe middle of them most courageously, and retreated thence in safety. That day, Q. Laberius Durus, a tribune of the soldiers, was slain. Theenemy, since more cohorts were sent against them, were repulsed. 

In the whole of this method of fighting since the engagement tookplace under the eyes of all and before the camp, it was perceived thatour men, on account of the weight of their arms, inasmuch as theycould neither pursue [the enemy when] retreating, nor dare quit theirstandards, were little suited to this kind of enemy; that the horsealso fought with great danger, because they [the Britons] generallyretreated even designedly, and, when they had drawn off our men ashort distance from the legions, leapt from their chariots and foughton foot in unequal [and to them advantageous] battle. But the systemof cavalry engagement is wont to produce equal danger, and indeed thesame, both to those who retreat and those who pursue. To this wasadded, that they never fought in close order, but in small parties andat great distances, and had detachments placed [in different parts], and then the one relieved the other, and the vigorous and freshsucceeded the wearied. 

The following day the enemy halted on the hills, a distance from ourcamp, and presented themselves in small parties, and began tochallenge our horse to battle with less spirit than the day before. But at noon, when Cæsar had sent three legions, and all the cavalrywith C. Trebonius, the lieutenant, for the purpose of foraging, theyflew upon the foragers suddenly from all quarters, so that they didnot keep off [even] from the standards and the legions. Our men, making an attack on them vigorously, repulsed them; nor did they ceaseto pursue them until the horse, relying on relief, as they saw thelegions behind them, drove the enemy precipitately before them, and, slaying a great number of them, did not give them the opportunityeither of rallying, or halting, or leaping from their chariots. Afterthis retreat the auxiliaries departed; nor after that time did theenemy ever engage with us in very large numbers. 

Cæsar, discovering their design, leads his army into the territoriesof Cassivelaunus[40] to the river Thames, which river can be forded inone place only, and that with difficulty. When he had arrived there, he perceives that numerous forces of the enemy were marshaled on theother bank of the river; the bank also was defended by sharpstakes[41] fixt in front, and stakes of the same kind fixt under thewater were covered by the river. These things being discovered from[some] prisoners and deserters, Cæsar, sending forward the cavalry, ordered the legions to follow them immediately. But the soldiersadvanced with such speed and such ardor, tho they stood above thewater by their heads only, that the enemy could not sustain the attackof the legions and of the horse, and quitted the banks, and committedthemselves to flight. 

Cassivelaunus, as we have stated above, all hope [rising out] ofbattle being laid aside, the greater part of his forces beingdismissed, and about 4, 000 charioteers only being left, used toobserve our marches and retire a little from the road, and concealhimself in intricate and woody places, and in those neighborhoods inwhich he had discovered we were about to march, he used to drive thecattle and the inhabitants from the fields into the woods; and, whenour cavalry, for the sake of plundering and ravaging the more freely, scattered themselves among the fields, he used to send out charioteersfrom the woods by all the well-known roads and paths, and, to thegreat danger of our horse, engaged with them; and this source of fearhindered them from straggling very extensively. The result was thatCæsar did not allow excursions to be made to a great distance from themain body of the legions, and ordered that damage should be done tothe enemy in ravaging their lands and kindling fires only so far asthe legionary soldiers could, by their own exertion and marching, accomplish it. 

In the mean time the Trinobantes, [42] almost the most powerful stateof those parts, from which the young man Mandubratius, embracing theprotection of Cæsar, had come to the continent of Gaul to [meet] him(whose father, Imanuentius, had possest the sovereignty in that state, and had been killed by Cassivelaunus; he himself had escaped death byflight) send ambassadors to Cæsar, and promise that they willsurrender themselves to him and perform his command: they entreat himto protect Mandubratius from the violence of Cassivelaunus, and sendto their state some one to preside over it, and possess thegovernment. Cæsar demands forty hostages from them, and corn for hisarmy, and sends Mandubratius to them. They speedily performed thethings demanded, and sent hostages to the number appointed, and thecorn. 

The Trinobantes, being protected and secured from any violence of thesoldiers, the Cenimagni, the Segontiaci, the Ancalites, theBibroci, and the Cassi, sending embassies, surrender themselves toCæsar. [43] From them he learns that the capital town of Cassivelaunuswas not far from that place, and was defended by woods and morasses, and a very large number of men and of cattle had been collected in it. (Now the Britons, when they have fortified the intricate woods, inwhich they are wont to assemble for the purpose of avoiding theincursion of an enemy with an entrenchment and a rampart, call them atown. ) Thither he proceeds with his legions; he finds the placeadmirably fortified by nature and art; he, however, undertakes toattack it in two directions. The enemy, having remained only a shorttime, did not sustain the attack of our soldiers, and hurried away onthe other side of the town. A great amount of cattle was found there, and many of the enemy were taken and slain in their flight. .. . 

III

OVERCOMING THE NERVII[44]

Cæsar, having sent his cavalry on before, followed closely after themwith all his forces; but the plan and order of the march weredifferent from that which the Belgæ had reported to the Nervii. [45]For as he was approaching the enemy, Cæsar, according to his custom, led on [as the van] six legions unencumbered by baggage; behind themhe had placed the baggage-trains of the whole army; then the twolegions which had been last raised closed the rear, and were a guardfor the baggage-train. Our horse, with the slingers and archers, having passed the river, commenced action with the cavalry of theenemy. While they from time to time betook themselves into the woodsto their companions, and again made an assault out of the wood uponour men, who did not dare to follow them in their retreat further thanthe limit to which the plain and open parts extended; in the mean timethe six legions which had arrived first, having measured out the work, began to fortify the camp. When the first part of the baggage-train ofour army was seen by those who lay hidden in the woods, which had beenagreed on among them as the time for commencing action, as soon asthey had arranged their line of battle and formed their ranks withinthe woods, and had encouraged one another, they rushed out suddenlywith all their forces and made an attack upon our horse. The latterbeing easily routed and thrown into confusion, the Nervii ran down tothe river with such incredible speed that they seemed to be in thewoods, the river, and close upon us almost at the same time. And withthe same speed they hastened up the hill to our camp and to those whowere employed in the works. 

Cæsar had everything to do at one time: the standard to be displayed, which was the sign when it was necessary to rim to arms; the signal tobe given by the trumpet; the soldiers to be called off from the works;those who had proceeded some distance for the purpose of seekingmaterials for the rampart, to be summoned; the order of battle to beformed; the soldiers to be encouraged; the watchword to be given. Agreat part of these arrangements was prevented by the shortness oftime and the sudden approach and charge of the enemy. Under thesedifficulties two things proved of advantage: [first] the skill andexperience of the soldiers, because, having been trained by formerengagements, they could suggest to themselves what ought to be done asconveniently as receive information from others; and [secondly] thatCæsar had forbidden his several lieutenants to depart from the worksand their respective legions before the camp was fortified. These, onaccount of the near approach and the speed of the enemy, did not thenwait for any command from Cæsar, but of themselves executed whateverappeared proper. 

Cæsar, having given the necessary orders, hastened to and fro intowhatever quarter fortune carried him, to animate the troops, and cameto the tenth legion. Having encouraged the soldiers with no furtherspeech than that "they should keep up the remembrance of their wontedvalor, and not be confused in mind, but valiantly sustain the assaultof the enemy"; as the latter were not farther from them than thedistance to which a dart could be cast, he gave the signal forcommencing battle. And having gone to another quarter for the purposeof encouraging [the soldiers], he finds them fighting. Such was theshortness of the time, and so determined was the mind of the enemy onfighting, that time was wanting not only for affixing the militaryinsignia, but even for putting on the helmets and drawing off thecovers from the shields. To whatever part any one by chance came fromthe works (in which he had been employed), and whatever standards hesaw first, at these he stood, lest in seeking his own company heshould lose the time for fighting. 

The army having been marshaled, rather as the nature of the ground andthe declivity of the hill and the exigency of the time than as themethod and order of military matters required, while the legions inthe different places were withstanding the enemy, some in one quarter, some in another, and the view was obstructed by the very thick hedgesintervening, as we have before remarked, neither could proper reservesbe posted, nor could the necessary measures be taken in each part, norcould all the commands be issued by one person. Therefore, in such anunfavorable state of affairs, various events of fortune followed. .. . 

At the same time, our horsemen, and light-armed infantry, who had beenwith those who, as I have related, were routed by the first assault ofthe enemy, as they were betaking themselves into the camp, met theenemy face to face, and again sought flight into another quarter; andthe camp-followers, who from the Decuman Gate, and from the highestridge of the hill had seen our men pass the river as victors, when, after going out for the purposes of plundering, they looked back andsaw the enemy parading in our camp, committed themselves precipitatelyto flight; at the same time there arose the cry and shout of those whocame with the baggage-train; and they (affrighted) were carried someone way, some another. By all these circumstances the cavalry of theTreviri were much alarmed (whose reputation for courage isextraordinary among the Gauls, and who had come to Cæsar, being sentby their state as auxiliaries), and, when they saw our camp filledwith a large number of the enemy, the legions hard prest and almostheld surrounded, the camp-retainers, horsemen, slingers, and Numidiansfleeing on all sides divided and scattered, they, despairing of ouraffairs, hastened home, and related to their state that the Romanswere routed and conquered, [and] that the enemy were in possession oftheir camp and baggage-train. 

Cæsar proceeded, after encouraging the tenth legion, to the rightwing, where he perceived that his men were hard prest, and that inconsequence of the standards of the twelfth legion being collectedtogether in one place, the crowded soldiers were a hindrance tothemselves in the fight; that all the centurions of the fourth cohortwere slain, and the standard-bearer killed, the standard itself lost, almost all the centurions of the other cohorts either wounded orslain, and among them the chief centurion of the legion, P. SextiusBaculus, a very valiant man, who was so exhausted by many and severewounds that he was already unable to support himself; he likewiseperceived that the rest were slackening their efforts, and that some, deserted by those in the rear, were retiring from the battle andavoiding the weapons; that the enemy [on the other hand], thoadvancing from the lower ground, were not relaxing in front, and were[at the same time] pressing hard on both flanks; he perceived alsothat the affair was at a crisis; and that there was not any reservewhich could be brought up; having therefore snatched a shield from oneof the soldiers in the rear (for he himself had come without ashield), he advanced to the front of the line, and addressing thecenturions by name, and encouraging the rest of the soldiers, heordered them to carry forward the standards, and extend the companies, that they might the more easily use their swords. On his arrival, ashope was brought to the soldiers and their courage restored, whileevery one for his own part, in the sight of his general, desired toexert his utmost energy, the impetuosity of the enemy was a littlechecked. 

Cæsar, when he perceived that the seventh legion, which stood close byhim, was also hard prest by the enemy, directed the tribunes of thesoldiers to effect a junction of the legions gradually, and make theircharge upon the enemy with a double front, which having been donesince they brought assistance the one to the other, nor feared lesttheir rear should be surrounded by the enemy, they began to standtheir ground more boldly, and to fight more courageously. In the meantime, the soldiers of the two legions which had been in the rear ofthe army, as a guard for the baggage-train, upon the battle beingreported to them, quickened their pace, and were seen by the enemy onthe top of the hill; and Titus Labienus, having gained possession ofthe camp of the enemy, and observed from the higher ground what wasgoing on in our camp, sent the tenth legion as a relief to our menwho, when they had learned from the flight of the horse and thesutlers in what position the affair was, and in how great danger thecamp and the legion and the commander were involved, left undonenothing [which tended] to despatch. 

By their arrival, so great a change of matters was made that our men, even those who had fallen down exhausted with wounds, leaned on theirshields, and renewed the fight; then the camp-retainers, tho unarmed, seeing the enemy completely dismayed, attacked [them tho] armed; thehorsemen too, that they might by their valor blot out the disgrace oftheir flight, thrust themselves before the legionary soldiers in allparts of the battle. But the enemy, even in the last hope of safety, displayed such great courage that when the foremost of them hadfallen, the next stood upon them prostrate, and fought from theirbodies; when these were overthrown, and their corpses heaped uptogether, those who survived cast their weapons against our men[thence] as from a mound, and returned our darts which had fallenshort between [the armies]; so that it ought not to be concluded thatmen of such great courage had injudiciously dared to pass a very broadriver, ascend very high banks, and come up to a very disadvantageousplace; since their greatness of spirit had rendered these actionseasy, altho in themselves very difficult. 

This battle being ended, and the nation and name of the Nervii beingalmost reduced to annihilation, their old men, who together with theboys and women we have stated to have been collected together in thefenny places and marshes, on this battle having been reported tothem, since they were convinced that nothing was an obstacle to theconquerors, and nothing safe to the conquered, sent ambassadors toCæsar by the consent of all who remained, and surrendered themselvesto him; and in recounting the calamity of their state said that theirsenators were reduced from 600 to three; that from 60, 000 men they[were reduced] to scarcely 500 who could bear arms, whom Cæsar, thathe might appear to use compassion toward the wretched and thesuppliant, most carefully spared, and ordered them to enjoy their ownterritories and towns, and commanded their neighbors that they shouldrestrain themselves and their dependents from offering injury oroutrage [to them]. .. . 

IV

THE BATTLE OF PHARSALIA AND THE DEATH OF POMPEY[46]

(48 B. C. )

Pompey, because he was encamped on a hill, drew up his army at thevery foot of it, ever in expectation, as may be conjectured, thatCæsar would expose himself to this disadvantageous situation. Cæsar, seeing no likelihood of being able to bring Pompey to an action, judged it the most expedient method of conducting the war to decampfrom that post, and to be always in motion; with this hope, that byshifting his camp and removing from place to place, he might be moreconveniently supplied with corn, and also that by being in motion hemight get some opportunity of forcing them to battle, and might byconstant marches harass Pompey's army, which was not accustomed tofatigue. [47] These matters being settled, when the signal for marchingwas given, and the tents struck, it was observed that shortly before, contrary to his daily practise, Pompey's army had advanced fartherthan usual from his entrenchments, so that it appeared possible tocome to an action on equal ground. Then Cæsar addrest himself to hissoldiers, when they were at the gates of the camp, ready to march out. "We must defer, " says he, "our march at present, and set our thoughtson battle, which has been our constant wish; let us then meet the foewith resolute souls. We shall not hereafter easily find such anopportunity. " He immediately marched out at the head of his troops. 

Pompey also, as was afterward known, at the unanimous solicitation ofhis friends, had determined to try the fate of a battle. For he hadeven declared in council a few days before that, before the battalionscame to battle, Cæsar's army would be put to the rout. When mostpeople exprest their surprize at it, "I know, " says he, "that Ipromise a thing almost incredible; but hear the plan on which Iproceed, that you may march to battle with more confidence andresolution. I have persuaded our cavalry, and they have engaged toexecute it, as soon as the two armies have met, to attack Cæsar'sright wing on the flank, and enclosing their army on the rear throwthem into disorder, and put them to the rout, before we shall throw aweapon against the enemy. By this means we shall put an end to thewar, without endangering the legions, and almost without a blow. Noris this a difficult matter, as we far outnumber them in cavalry. " Atthe same time, he gave them notice to be ready for battle on the dayfollowing, and since the opportunity which they had so often wishedfor was now arrived, not to disappoint the opinion generallyentertained of their experience and valor. .. . 

Cæsar, observing his former custom, had placed the tenth legion on theright, the ninth on the left, altho it was very much weakened by thebattles at Dyrrachium. [48] He placed the eighth legion so close to theninth as almost to make one of the two, and ordered them to supporteach other. He drew up on the field eighty cohorts, making a total oftwenty-two thousand men. He left two cohorts to guard the camp. Hegave the command of the left wing to Antonius, of the right to P. Sulla, and of the center to Cn. Domitius; he himself took his postopposite Pompey. At the same time, fearing, from the disposition ofthe enemy which we have previously mentioned, lest his right wingmight be surrounded by their numerous cavalry, he rapidly drafted asingle cohort from each of the legions composing the third line, formed of them a fourth line, and opposed them to Pompey's cavalry, and, acquainting them with his wishes, admonished them that thesuccess of that day depended on their courage. At the same time, heordered the third line and the entire army not to charge without hiscommand; that he would give the signal whenever he wished them to doso. .. . 

But our men, when the signal was given, rushed forward with theirjavelins ready to be launched, but perceiving that Pompey's men didnot run to meet their charge, having acquired experience by custom, and being practised in former battles, they of their own accordrepressed their speed, and halted almost midway, that they might notcome up with the enemy when their strength was exhausted, and after ashort respite they again renewed their course, and threw theirjavelins, and instantly drew their swords, as Cæsar had ordered them. Nor did Pompey's men fail in this crisis, for they received ourjavelins, stood our charge, and maintained their ranks; and, havinglaunched their javelins, had recourse to their swords. At the sametime, Pompey's horse, according to their orders, rushed out at oncefrom his left wing, and his whole host of archers poured after them. Our cavalry did not withstand their charge; but gave ground a little, upon which Pompey's horse prest them more vigorously, and began tofile off in troops, and flank our army. When Cæsar perceived this, hegave the signal to his fourth line, which he had formed of the sixcohorts. They instantly rushed forward and charged Pompey's horse withsuch fury that not a man of them stood; but all wheeling about, notonly quitted their post, but galloped forward to seek a refuge in thehighest mountains. By their retreat the archers and slingers, beingleft destitute and defenseless, were all cut to pieces. The cohorts, pursuing their success, wheeled about upon Pompey's left wing, whilehis infantry still continued to make battle, and attacked them in therear. 

At the same time, Cæsar ordered his third line to advance, which tillthen had not been engaged, but had kept their post. Thus, new andfresh troops having come to the assistance of the fatigued, and othershaving made an attack on their rear, Pompey's men were not able tomaintain their ground, but all fled, [49] nor was Cæsar deceived in hisopinion that the victory, as he had declared in his speech to hissoldiers, must have its beginning from those six cohorts, which he hadplaced as a fourth line to oppose the horse. For by them the cavalrywere routed; by them the archers and slingers were cut to pieces; bythem the left wing of Pompey's army was surrounded, and obliged to bethe first to flee. But when Pompey saw his cavalry routed, and thatpart of his army on which he reposed his greatest hopes thrown intoconfusion, despairing of the rest, he quitted the field, and retreatedstraightway on horseback to his camp, and calling to the centurions, whom he had placed to guard the prætorian gate, with a loud voice, that the soldiers might hear: "Secure the camp, " says he, "defend itwith diligence, if any danger should threaten it; I will visit theother gates, and encourage the guards of the camp. " Having thus said, he retired into his tent in utter despair, yet anxiously waiting theissue. 

Cæsar having forced the Pompeians to flee into their entrenchment, andthinking that he ought not to allow them any respite to recover fromtheir fright, exhorted his soldiers to take advantage of fortune'skindness, and to attack the camp. Tho they were fatigued by theintense heat, for the battle had continued till midday, yet, beingprepared to undergo any labor, they cheerfully obeyed his command. Thecamp was bravely defended by the cohorts which had been left to guardit, but with much more spirit by the Thracians and foreignauxiliaries. For the soldiers who had fled for refuge to it from thefield of battle, affrighted and exhausted by fatigue, having thrownaway their arms and military standards, had their thoughts moreengaged on their further escape than on the defense of the camp. Norcould the troops who were posted on the battlements long withstand theimmense number of our darts, but fainting under their wounds quittedthe place, and under the conduct of their centurions and tribunesfled, without stopping, to the high mountains which adjoined the camp. 

In Pompey's camp you might see arbors in which tables were laid, alarge quantity of plate set out, the floors of the tents covered withfresh sods, the tents of Lucius Lentulus and others shaded with ivy, and many other things which were proofs of excessive luxury, and aconfidence of victory, so that it might readily be inferred that theyhad no apprehensions of the issue of the day, as they indulgedthemselves in unnecessary pleasures, and yet upbraided with luxuryCæsar's army, distrest and suffering troops, who had always been inwant of common necessaries. Pompey, as soon as our men had forced thetrenches, mounting his horse, and stripping off his general's habit, went hastily out of the back gate of the camp, and galloped with allspeed to Larissa. Nor did he stop there, but with the same despatch, collecting a few of his flying troops, and halting neither day nornight, he arrived at the seaside, attended by only thirty horse, andwent on board a victualing bark, often complaining, as we have beentold, that he had been so deceived in his expectation that he wasalmost persuaded that he had been betrayed by those from whom he hadexpected victory, as they began the flight. 

Cæsar, having possest himself of Pompey's camp, urged his soldiers notto be too intent on plunder, and lose the opportunity of completingtheir conquest. Having obtained their consent, he began to draw linesround the mountain. The Pompeians distrusting the position, as therewas no water on the mountain, abandoned it, and all began to retreattoward Larissa, which Cæsar perceiving divided his troops, andordering part of his legions to remain in Pompey's camp, sent back apart to his own camp, and, taking four legions with him, went by ashorter road to intercept the enemy; and having marched six miles, drew up his army. But the Pompeians, observing this, took a post on amountain, whose foot was washed by a river. Cæsar having encouragedhis troops, tho they were greatly exhausted by incessant labor thewhole day, and night was now approaching, by throwing up works cut offthe communication between the river and the mountain, that the enemymight not get water in the night. As soon as the work was finished, they sent ambassadors to treat about a capitulation. A few senatorswho had espoused that party made their escape by night. 

At break of day, Cæsar ordered all those who had taken post on themountain to come down from the higher grounds into the plain and piletheir arms. When they did this without refusal, and, with, outstretched arms, prostrating themselves on the ground, with tears, implored his mercy, he comforted them and bade them rise, and havingspoken a few words of his own clemency to alleviate their fears, hepardoned them all, and gave orders to his soldiers that no injuryshould be done to them, and nothing taken from them. Having used thisdiligence, he ordered the legions in his camp to come and meet him, and those which were with him to take their turn of rest, and go backto the camp, and the same day went to Larissa. 

In that battle, no more than two hundred privates were missing, butCæsar lost about thirty centurions, valiant officers. Crastinus, also, of whom mention was made before, fighting most courageously, lost hislife by the wound of a sword in the mouth, nor was that false which hedeclared when marching to battle; for Cæsar entertained the highestopinion of his behavior in that battle, and thought him highlydeserving of his approbation. Of Pompey's army, there fell aboutfifteen thousand; but upward of twenty-four thousand were madeprisoners; for even the cohorts which were stationed in the fortssurrendered to Sulla. Several others took shelter in the neighboringstates. One hundred and eighty stands of colors and nine eagles werebrought to Cæsar. Lucius Domitius, fleeing from the camp to themountains, his strength being exhausted by fatigue, was killed. .. . 

Cæsar thought he ought to postpone all business and pursue Pompey, whithersoever he should retreat, that he might not be able to providefresh forces, and renew the war; he therefore marched on every day, asfar as his cavalry were able to advance, and ordered one legion tofollow him by shorter journeys. A proclamation was issued by Pompey atAmphipolis[50] that all the young men of that province, Grecians andRoman citizens, should take the military oath; but whether he issuedit with an intention of preventing suspicion, and to conceal as longas possible his design of fleeing farther, or to endeavor to keeppossession of Macedonia by new levies, if nobody pursued him, it isimpossible to judge. He lay at anchor one night, and calling togetherhis friends in Amphipolis, and collecting a sum of money for hisnecessary expenses, upon advice of Cæsar's approach, set sail fromthat place, and arrived in a few days at Mitylene. [51] Here he wasdetained two days, and having added a few galleys to his fleet he wentto Cilicia, and thence to Cyprus. There he is informed that, by theconsent of all the inhabitants of Antioch[52] and Roman citizens whotraded there, the castle had been seized to shut him out of the town;and that messengers had been dispatched to all those who were reportedto have taken refuge in the neighboring states, that they should notcome to Antioch; that if they did so, it would be attended withimminent danger to their lives. The same thing had happened to LuciusLentulus, who had been Consul the year before, and to PubliusLentulus, a consular senator, and to several others at Rhodes, [53] whohaving followed Pompey in his flight, and arrived at the island, werenot admitted into the town or port; and having received a message toleave that neighborhood, set sail much against their will; for therumor of Cæsar's approach had now reached those states. 

Pompey, being informed of these proceedings, laid aside his design ofgoing to Syria, and having taken the public money from the farmers ofthe revenue, and borrowed more from some private friends, and havingput on board his ships a large quantity of brass for militarypurposes, and two thousand armed men, whom he partly selected from theslaves of the tax farmers, and partly collected from the merchants, and such persons as each of his friends thought fit on this occasion, he sailed for Pelusium. [54] It happened that King Ptolemy, [55] aminor, was there with a considerable army, engaged in war with hissister Cleopatra, whom a few months before, by the assistance of hisrelatives and friends, he had expelled from the kingdom; and her camplay at a small distance from his. To him Pompey applied to bepermitted to take refuge in Alexandria, and to be protected in hiscalamity by his powerful assistance, in consideration of thefriendship and amity which had subsisted between his father and him. But Pompey's deputies, having executed their commission, began toconverse with less restraint with the king's troops, and to advisethem to act with friendship to Pompey, and not to think meanly of hisbad fortune. In Ptolemy's army were several of Pompey's soldiers, ofwhom Gabinius[56] had received the command in Syria, and had broughtthem over to Alexandria, and at the conclusion of the war had leftwith Ptolemy the father of the young king. 

The king's friends, who were regents of the kingdom during theminority, being informed of these things, either induced by fear, asthey afterward declared, lest Pompey should corrupt the king's army, and seize on Alexandria[57] and Egypt, or despising his bad fortune, as in adversity friends commonly change to enemies, in public gave afavorable answer to his deputies, and desired him to come to the king;but secretly laid a plot against him, and dispatched Achillas, captainof the king's guards, a man of singular boldness, and LuciusSeptimius, a military tribune, to assassinate him. Being kindlyaddrest by them, and deluded by an acquaintance with Septimius, because in the war with the pirates the latter had commanded a companyunder him, he embarked in a small boat, with a few attendants, and wasthere murdered by Achillas and Septimius. In like manner, LuciusLentulus was seized by the king's order, and put to death inprison. .. . 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 33: Cicero, whose praise of Cæsar as a writer has beenshared by many readers since his time, described Cæsar's works as"unadorned, straightforward, and elegant, their ornament being striptoff as it were a garment. " Cæsar did his work so well that "he hasdeterred all men of sound taste from touching him. "]

[Footnote 34: From Book IV of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. "Translated by McDivett and W. S. Bohn. The site of this bridge isbelieved to be in the neighborhood of Cologne. ]

[Footnote 35: The Suevi were migratory Germans who, in Cæsar's time, occupied the eastern banks of the Rhine in and about the presentcountry of Baden. ]

[Footnote 36: From Book V of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. "]

[Footnote 37: The Belgæ comprised various tribes that lived betweenthe Seine and the Rhine and were the most warlike of the Gauls. ]

[Footnote 38: Cæsar's error here has often been commented on, Spainlying to the south, rather than to the west, of Britain. ]

[Footnote 39: Now known as the Isle of Man. ]

[Footnote 40: Cassivelaunus was a chieftain of the Britons who hadbeen entrusted with the supreme command against Cæsar. His ownterritory lay north of the Thames. ]

[Footnote 41: Bede, the learned Benedictine, who lived in the eighthcentury, says that, in his time, remains of these stakes were still tobe seen. ]

[Footnote 42: These people occupied what are now the counties of Essexand Middlesex. ]

[Footnote 43: The translator notes that Tacitus has remarked thatBritain was surveyed, rather than conquered, by Cæsar. He gives thehonor of its real conquest to his own father-in-law, Agricola. Whilethe Roman armies "owe much to the military virtues of Agricola asdisplayed in England, Cæsar, " adds the translator, "did what no onehad done before him; he levied tribute upon the Britons andeffectually paved the way for all that Rome subsequently accomplishedin this island. "]

[Footnote 44: From Book II of the "Commentaries on the Gallic War. "]

[Footnote 45: The Nervii were one of the Belgic tribes and areunderstood to have been the most warlike of them all. ]

[Footnote 46: From Book III of the "Commentaries on the Civil War. "Pharsalia is a district of Thessaly in Greece. Cæsar's army numbered22, 000 legionaries and 1, 000 cavalry; Pompey's, 45, 000 legionaries and7, 000 cavalry. ]

[Footnote 47: Pompey's army having been recruited from aristocraticfamilies and their dependents, was not so much accustomed to theseverities of war as were the soldiers of Cæsar, recruited largelyfrom the populace. ]

[Footnote 48: The modern Durazzo, a seaport on the Adriatic inAlbania. It was founded by colonies from Corfu about 625 B. C. Andbecame important afterward as a terminus of one of the great Romanroads. Pompey here defeated Cæsar a short time before he was himselfdefeated at Pharsalia. ]

[Footnote 49: Cæsar on this occasion is said to have advised hissoldiers to aim at the faces of Pompey's cavalry, who, being composedprincipally of the young noblemen of Rome, dreaded a scar in the facemore than death itself. ]

[Footnote 50: Amphipolis, a city of Macedonia, originally Thracian, but colonized from Athens. It was situated three miles inland from theÆgean Sea. ]

[Footnote 51: Mitylene was the capital of the island of Lesbos, and animportant maritime power in ancient times. ]

[Footnote 52: Arrowsmith describes Antioch as, not only the capital ofSyria, but at one time of Western Asia. It was for years the thirdcity of the world in beauty, size, and population. It was here thatthe followers of Christ first received the name of Christians (in A. D. 39), having before been called Nazarenes and Galileans. In aneighboring grove stood a famous temple to Apollo and Diana. ]

[Footnote 53: Rhodes is the largest island in the Ægean Sea afterCrete and Euboea. Its capital, having the same name and situatednear the northern end of the island, was famous for a bronze statue ofthe sun called the Colossus, which was one of the "seven wonders ofthe world. "]

[Footnote 54: Pelusium was an ancient city of Egypt, situated in thedelta of the Nile, strongly fortified and regarded as the gate toEgypt, on its eastern frontier. It lay in the midst of marshes formedby the overflow of the river, and continued its importance, in amilitary sense, until the waters of the river found their way into theDamietta branch. ]

[Footnote 55: Ptolemy XII, who came to the throne of Egypt co-jointlywith his sister Cleopatra in 51 B. C. He expelled Cleopatra in 49, andin 48 Cæsar reinstated her. In the war which ensued, he was defeatedand drowned in the Nile. ]

[Footnote 56: Gabinius was a Roman tribune who had proposed thestatute bearing his name which gave to Pompey command of theMediterranean coast for the suppression of pirates. ]

[Footnote 57: Alexandria was founded in 331 B. C. By Alexander theGreat. Its principal street, 2, 000 feet wide, was adorned with "someof the most costly edifices and structures of marble which perhaps theworld ever saw. " Many of these marbles were subsequently taken to Romeand Constantinople. Alexandria for a long period was the center ofcommerce for all merchandise passing between Europe and the East. As acity of learning, it possest a famous library, which at one periodcomprized 700, 000 volumes. ]

SALLUST

 Born in Italy about 86 B. C. ; died about 34; elected tribune in 52; expelled from the Senate by the censors in 50, probably for being an active partizan of Cæsar; accompanied Cæsar on his African campaign in 46; became governor of Numidia, where he is said to have amassed a fortune unjustly; author of histories of the Catiline conspiracy and the war with Jugurtha. [58]

I

THE GENESIS OF CATILINE[59]

Of the city of Rome, as I understand, the founders and earliestinhabitants were the Trojans, who, under the conduct of Æneas, werewandering about as exiles from their country, without any settledabode; and with these were joined the Aborigines, a savage race ofmen, without laws or government, free, and owning no control. Howeasily these two tribes, tho of different origin, dissimilar language, and opposite habits of life, formed a union when they met within thesame walls is almost incredible. But when their state, from anaccession of population and territory and an improved condition ofmorals, showed itself tolerably flourishing and powerful, envy, as isgenerally the case in human affairs, was the consequence of itsprosperity. The neighboring kings and people, accordingly, began toassail them in war, while a few only of their friends came to theirsupport; for the rest, struck with alarm, shrunk from sharing theirdangers. But the Romans, active at home and in the field, preparedwith alacrity for their defense. They encouraged one another, andhurried to meet the enemy. They protected, with their arms, theirliberty, their country, and their homes. And when they had at lengthrepelled danger by valor, they lent assistance to their allies andsupporters, and procured friendships rather by bestowing favors thanby receiving them. 

They had a government regulated by laws. The denomination of theirgovernment was monarchy. Chosen men, whose bodies might be enfeebledby years, but whose minds were vigorous in understanding, formed thecouncil of the state; and these, whether from their age, or from thesimilarity of their duty, were called Fathers. But afterward, when themonarchical power, which had been originally established for theprotection of liberty and for the promotion of the public interest, had degenerated into tyranny and oppression, they changed their plan, and appointed two magistrates, with power only annual; for theyconceived that, by this method, the human mind would be least likelyto grow overbearing through want of control. 

At this period every citizen began to seek distinction, and to displayhis talents with greater freedom; for, with princes, the meritoriousare greater objects of suspicion than the undeserving, and to them theworth of others is a source of alarm. But when liberty was secured, itis almost incredible how much the state strengthened itself in a shortspace of time, so strong a passion for distinction had pervaded it. Now, for the first time, the youth, as soon as they were able to bearthe toils of war, acquired military skill by actual service in thecamp, and took pleasure rather in splendid arms and military steedsthan in the society of mistresses and convivial indulgence. To suchmen no toil was unusual, no place was difficult or inaccessible, noarmed enemy was formidable; their valor had overcome everything. Butamong themselves the grand rivalry was for glory; each sought to befirst to wound an enemy, to scale a wall, and to be noticed whileperforming such an exploit. Distinction such as this they regarded aswealth, honor, and true nobility. They were covetous of praise, butliberal of money; they desired competent riches, but boundless glory. I could mention, but that the account would draw me too far from mysubject, places in which the Roman people, with a small body of men, routed vast armies of the enemy; and cities which, tho fortified bynature, they carried by assault. .. . 

By these two virtues, intrepidity in war and equity in peace, theymaintained themselves and their state; of their exercise of whichvirtues, I consider these as the greatest proofs: that, in war, punishment was oftener inflicted on those who attacked an enemycontrary to orders, and who, when commanded to retreat, retired tooslowly from the contest, than on those who had dared to desert theirstandards, or, when prest by the enemy, to abandon their posts; andthat, in peace, they governed more by conferring benefits than byexciting terror, and, when they received an injury, chose rather topardon than to revenge it. 

But when, by perseverance and integrity, the republic had increasedits power; when mighty princes had been vanquished in war; whenbarbarous tribes and populous states had been reduced to subjection;when Carthage, the rival of Rome's dominion, had been utterlydestroyed, and sea and land lay everywhere open to her sway, Fortunethen began to exercise her tyranny, and to introduce universalinnovation. To those who had easily endured toils, dangers, anddoubtful and difficult circumstances, ease and wealth, the objects ofdesire to others, became a burden and a trouble. At first the love ofmoney, and then that of power, began to prevail, and these became, asit were, the sources of every evil. For avarice subverted honesty, integrity, and other honorable principles, and in their stead, inculcated pride, inhumanity, contempt of religion, and generalvenality. Ambition prompted many to become deceitful; to keep onething concealed in the breast, and another ready on the tongue; toestimate friendships and enmities, not by their worth, but accordingto interest; and to carry rather a specious countenance than an honestheart. These vices at first advanced but slowly, and were sometimesrestrained by correction; but afterward, when their infection hadspread like a pestilence, the state was entirely changed, and thegovernment, from being the most equitable and praiseworthy, becamerapacious and insupportable. 

At first, however, it was ambition, rather than avarice, thatinfluenced the minds of men--a vice which approaches nearer to virtuethan the other. For of glory, honor, and power, the worthy is asdesirous as the worthless; but the one pursues them by just methods;the other, being destitute of honorable qualities, works with fraudand deceit. But avarice has merely money for its object, which no wiseman has ever immoderately desired. It is a vice which, as if imbuedwith deadly poison, enervates whatever is manly in body or mind. It isalways unbounded and insatiable, and is abated neither by abundancenor by want. 

But after Lucius Sulla, having recovered the government by force ofarms, proceeded, after a fair commencement, to a pernicioustermination, all became robbers and plunderers; some set theiraffections on houses, others on lands; his victorious troops knewneither restraint nor moderation, but inflicted on the citizensdisgraceful and inhuman outrages. Their rapacity was increased by thecircumstance that Sulla, in order to secure the attachment of theforces which he had commanded in Asia, had treated them, contrary tothe practise of our ancestors, with extraordinary indulgence andexemption from discipline; and pleasant and luxurious quarters hadeasily, during seasons of idleness, enervated the minds of thesoldiery. Then the armies of the Roman people first became habituatedto licentiousness and intemperance, and began to admire statues, pictures, and sculptured vases; to seize such objects alike in publicedifices and private dwellings; to spoil temples; and to cast offrespect for everything, sacred and profane. Such troops, accordingly, when once they obtained the mastery, left nothing to the vanquished. Success unsettles the principles even of the wise, and scarcely wouldthose of debauched habits use victory with moderation. .. . 

In so populous and so corrupt a city, Catiline, as it was very easy todo, kept about him, like a body-guard, crowds of the unprincipled anddesperate. For all those shameless, libertine, and profligatecharacters who had dissipated their patrimonies by gaming, luxury, andsensuality; all who had contracted heavy debts, to purchase immunityfor their crimes or offenses; all assassins or sacrilegious personsfrom every quarter, convicted or dreading conviction for their evildeeds; all, besides, whom their tongue or their hand maintained byperjury or civil bloodshed; all, in fine, whom wickedness, poverty, ora guilty conscience disquieted, were the associates and intimatefriends of Catiline. And if any one, as yet of unblemished character, fell into his society, he was presently rendered, by daily intercourseand temptation, similar and equal to the rest. But it was the youngwhose acquaintance he chiefly courted, as their minds, ductile andunsettled from their age, were easily ensnared by his stratagems. Foras the passions of each, according to his years, appeared excited, hefurnished mistresses to some, bought horses and dogs for others, andspared, in a word, neither his purse nor his character, if he couldbut make them his devoted and trustworthy supporters. There were some, I know, who thought that the youth who frequented the house ofCatiline were guilty of crimes against nature; but this report aroserather from other causes than from any evidence of the fact. .. . 

Depending on such accomplices and adherents, and knowing that the loadof debt was everywhere great, and that the veterans of Sulla, [60]having spent their money too liberally, and remembering their spoilsand former victory, were longing for a civil war, Catiline formed thedesign of overthrowing the government. There was no army in Italy;Pompey was fighting in a distant part of the world;[61] he himself hadgreat hopes of obtaining the consulship; the Senate was wholly off itsguard; everything was quiet and tranquil, and all these circumstanceswere exceedingly favorable for Catiline. .. . 

II

THE FATE OF THE CONSPIRATORS[62]

When the Senate, as I have stated, had gone over to the opinion ofCato, the Consul, thinking it best not to wait till night, which wascoming on, lest any new attempts should be made during the interval, ordered the triumvirs to make such preparations as the execution ofthe conspirators required. He himself, having posted the necessaryguards, conducted Lentulus[63] to the prison; and the same office wasperformed for the rest by the prætors. 

There is a place in the prison, which is called the Tulliandungeon, [64] and which, after a slight ascent to the left, is sunkabout twelve feet under ground. Walls secure it on every side, andover it is a vaulted roof connected with stone arches; but itsappearance is disgusting and horrible, by reason of the filth, darkness, and stench. When Lentulus had been let down into this place, certain men, to whom orders had been given, strangled him with acord. Thus this patrician who was of the illustrious family of theCornelii, and who had filled the office of Consul at Rome, met with anend suited to his character and conduct. On Cethegus, Statilius, Gabinius, and Coeparius, punishment was inflicted in a similarmanner. 

During these proceedings at Rome, Catiline, out of the entire forcewhich he himself had brought with him, and that which Manlius hadpreviously collected, formed two legions, filling up the cohorts asfar as his numbers would allow; and afterward, as any volunteers, orrecruits from his confederates, arrived in his camp, he distributedthem equally throughout the cohorts, and thus filled up his legions, in a short time, with their regular number of men, tho at first he hadnot had more than two thousand. But, of his whole army, only about afourth part had the proper weapons of soldiers; the rest, as chancehad equipped them, carried darts, spears, or sharpened stakes. 

As Antonius[65] approached with his army, Catiline directed his marchover the hills, encamping, at one time, in the direction of Rome, atanother in that of Gaul. He gave the enemy no opportunity of fighting, yet hoped himself shortly to find one, if his accomplices at Romeshould succeed in their objects. Slaves, meanwhile, of whom vastnumbers had at first flocked to him, he continued to reject, not onlyas depending on the strength of the conspiracy, but as thinking itimpolitic to appear to share the cause of citizens with runagates. 

When it was reported in his camp, however, that the conspiracy hadbeen discovered at Rome, and that Lentulus, Cethegus, and the restwhom I have named had been put to death, most of those whom the hopeof plunder or the love of change had led to join in the war fell away. The remainder Catiline conducted, over rugged mountains and by forcedmarches, into the neighborhood of Pistoria, with a view to escapecovertly, by crossroads, into Gaul. 

But Quintus Metellus Celer, who, with a force of three legions, had, at that time, his station at Picenum, suspected that Catiline, fromthe difficulties of his position, would adopt precisely the coursewhich we have just described. When, therefore, he had learnedCatiline's route from some deserters, he immediately broke up hiscamp, and took his post at the very foot of the hills, at the pointwhere Catiline's descent would be, in his hurried march into Gaul. [66]Nor was Antonius far distant, as he was pursuing, tho with a largearmy, yet through plainer ground, and with fewer hindrances, the enemyin retreat. 

Catiline, when he saw that he was surrounded by mountains and byhostile forces, that his schemes in the city had been unsuccessful, and that there was no hope either of escape or of succor, thinking itbest, in such circumstances, to try the fortune of a battle, resolvedupon engaging, as speedily as possible, with Antonius. .. . 

When he had spoken, he ordered, after a short delay, the signal forbattle to be sounded, and led down his troops, in regular order, tothe level ground. Having then sent away the horses of all the cavalry, in order to increase the men's courage by making their danger equal, he himself, on foot, drew up his troops suitably to their numbers andthe nature of the ground. As a plain stretched between the mountainson the left, with a rugged rock on the right, he placed eight cohortsin front, and stationed the rest of his force, in close order, in therear. From among these he removed all the ablest centurions, theveterans, and the stoutest of the common soldiers that were regularlyarmed into the foremost ranks. He ordered Caius Manlius to take thecommand on the right, and a certain officer of Fæsulæ on the left;while he himself, with his freedmen and the colonists, took hisstation by the eagle, which Caius Marius was said to have had in hisarmy in the Cimbrian war. 

On the other side, Caius Antonius, who, being lame, was unable to bepresent in the engagement, gave the command of the army to MarcusPetreius, his lieutenant-general. Petreius ranged the cohorts ofveterans, which he had raised to meet the present insurrection, infront, and behind them the rest of his force in lines. Then, ridinground among his troops, and addressing his men by name, he encouragedthem, and bade them remember that they were to fight against unarmedmarauders, in defense of their country, their children, their temples, and their homes. Being a military man, and having served with greatreputation for more than thirty years, as tribune, prefect, lieutenant, or prætor, he knew most of the soldiers and theirhonorable actions, and, by calling these to their remembrance, rousedthe spirits of the men. 

When he had made a complete survey, he gave the signal with thetrumpet, and ordered the cohorts to advance slowly. The army of theenemy followed his example; and when they had approached so near thatthe action could be commenced by the light-armed troops, both sides, with a loud shout, rushed together in a furious charge. They threwaside their missiles, and fought only with their swords. The veterans, calling to mind their deeds of old, engaged fiercely in the closestcombat. The enemy made an obstinate resistance; and both sidescontended with the utmost fury. Catiline, during this time, wasexerting himself with his light troops in the front, sustaining suchas were prest, substituting fresh men for the wounded, attending toevery exigency, charging in person, wounding many an enemy, andperforming at once the duties of a valiant soldier and a skilfulgeneral. 

When Petreius, contrary to his expectation, found Catiline attackinghim with such impetuosity, he led his prætorian cohort against thecenter of the enemy, among whom, being thus thrown into confusion, andoffering but partial resistance, he made great slaughter, and ordered, at the same time, an assault on both flanks. Manlius and the Fæsulan, sword in hand, were among the first that fell; and Catiline, when hesaw his army routed, and himself left with but few supporters, remembering his birth and former dignity, rushed into the thickest ofthe enemy, where he was slain, fighting to the last. 

When the battle was over, it was plainly seen what boldness and whatenergy of spirit had prevailed throughout the army of Catiline; for, almost everywhere, every soldier, after yielding up his breath, covered with his corpse the spot which he had occupied when alive. Afew, indeed, whom the prætorian cohort had dispersed, had fallensomewhat differently, but all with wounds in front. Catiline himselfwas found, far in advance of his men, among the dead bodies of theenemy; he still breathed, and exprest in his countenance thefierceness of spirit which he had shown during his life. Of his wholearmy, neither in the battle, nor in flight, was any free-born citizenmade prisoner, for they had spared their own lives no more than thoseof the enemy. 

Nor did the army of the Roman people obtain a joyful or bloodlessvictory; for all their bravest men were either killed in the battle orleft the field severely wounded. 

Of many who went from the camp to view the ground or plunder theslain, some, in turning over the bodies of the enemy, discovered afriend, others an acquaintance, others a relative; some, too, recognized their enemies. Thus, gladness and sorrow, grief and joy, were variously felt throughout the whole army. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 58: Quintilian thought Sallust had rivaled Thucydides, butit has generally been held that he rather imitated him. Theresemblance lies in the main in the language he employs. Cruttwellremarks "that the deep insight of the Athenian into the connection ofevents is far removed from the popular rhetoric in which the Romandeplores the decline of virtue. "]

[Footnote 59: From "The Conspiracy of Catiline. " Translated by J. S. Watson. Catiline came of an old but impoverished patrician family. Inthe first Civil War, he had joined Sulla, and in the time of theproscription is said to have killed with his own hand hisbrother-in-law. In 67 B. C. He was governor of Africa; in 64 he joinedP. Antronius in an attempt to murder the consuls-elect; in 64 he washimself defeated for the consulship. ]

[Footnote 60: These were men to whom Sulla had given land as rewardsfor services, but who from extravagance had fallen into debt. Cicerosaid nothing could help them but the resurrection of Sulla from thedead. ]

[Footnote 61: Pompey was then conducting his campaign againstMithridates. ]

[Footnote 62: From "The Conspiracy of Catiline. " Translated by J. S. Watson. ]

[Footnote 63: Lentulus, who came of the ancient and noble Cornelianfamily, was one of the chiefs of the Catiline conspiracy. In 71 B. C. He was Consul, but in the next year was ejected from the Senate for"infamous life and manners. "]

[Footnote 64: The Tullian dungeon at Rome was built by King AncusMartius and enlarged by Servius Tullius, from whom it derived itsname. It still exists as a subterranean chapel beneath the smallchurch of San Pietro in Carcere. The church tradition is that St. Peter was imprisoned in this dungeon. ]

[Footnote 65: Not the triumvir, but his uncle, Caius Antonius, a manwho after the conspiracy made a scandalous record, and in consequencewas surnamed "Hybrida. " He was Consul with Cicero, and is believed tohave been one of the original Catiline conspirators, but Cicero gainedhim over to his own side by promising him the rich province ofMacedonia. As Consul, Antonius was under the necessity of leading thearmy against Catiline; but, owing to unwillingness to fight againsthis former friend (Sallust says owing to lameness) he gave theimmediate command on the day of battle to his legate, Petreius. Thefather of this Antonius and the grandfather of Mark Antony, thetriumvir, was Mark Antony, the orator, frequently referred to byCicero as one of the greatest of Roman orators. ]

[Footnote 66: That is, northern Italy, which In ancient times had beenoccupied by Gallic people. Pistoria was an Etruscan town lying at thefoot of the Apennines. ]

LIVY

 Born In Padua in 59 B. C. ; died there in 17 A. D. ; one of the most famous of the Roman historians; his work, embracing the period from the founding of the city, comprized one hundred and forty-two books, of which only thirty-five have come down to us; he spent over forty years in writing the history; he wrote also philosophical dialogs and a work on rhetorical training. [67]

I

HORATIUS COCLES AT THE BRIDGE[68]

(About 510 B. C. )

The Sublician bridge[69] well-nigh afforded a passage to the enemy, had it not been for one man, Horatius Cocles, given by fortune on thatday as a defense of Rome. He happened to be posted on guard at thebridge and when he saw the Janiculum taken by a sudden assault, andthat the enemy were pouring down thence in full speed, and that hisown party in terror and confusion were abandoning their arms andranks--laying hold of them one by one, standing in their way, andappealing to the faith of gods and men, he declared "that their flightwould avail them nothing if they deserted their post; if they passedthe bridge and left it behind them, there would soon be more of theenemy in the Palatium and Capitol than in the Janiculum; for thatreason he advised and charged them to demolish the bridge, by theirsword, by fire, or by any means whatever; that he would stand theshock of the enemy as far as could be done by one man. "

He then advanced to the first entrance of the bridge, and being easilydistinguished among those who showed their backs in retreating fromthe fight, facing about to engage the foe hand to hand, by hissurprizing bravery he terrified the enemy. Two indeed a sense of shamekept with him--Spurius Lartius and Titus Herminius--men eminent fortheir birth, and renowned for their gallant exploits. 

With them he for a short time stood the first storm of the danger, andthe severest brunt of the battle. But as they who demolished thebridge called upon them to retire, he obliged them also to withdraw toa place of safety on a small portion of the bridge still left. Thencasting his stern eyes round all the officers of the Etrurians in athreatening manner, he sometimes challenged them singly, sometimesreproached them all: "the slaves of haughty tyrants, who, regardlessof their own freedom, came to oppress the liberty of others. " Theyhesitated for a considerable time, looking round one at the other, tocommence the fight; shame then put the army in motion, and a shoutbeing raised, they hurled their weapons from all sides on their singleadversary; and when they all stuck in the shield held before him, andhe with no less obstinacy kept possession of the bridge with firmstep, they now endeavored to thrust him down from it by one push, whenat once the crash of the falling bridge, at the same time a shout ofthe Romans raised for joy at having completed their purpose, checkedtheir ardor with sudden panic. Then Cocles says, "Holy fatherTiberinus, I pray that thou wouldst receive these arms and this thysoldier in thy propitious stream. " Armed as he was, he leapt into theTiber, and, amid showers of darts hurled on him, swam across safe tohis party, having dared an act which is likely to obtain more famethan belief with posterity. The state was grateful toward such valor;a statue was erected to him in the Comitium, and as much land wasgiven to him as he plowed around in one day. The zeal of privateindividuals also was conspicuous among the public honors. For amid thegreat scarcity, each person contributed something to him according tohis supply at home, depriving himself of his own support. 

II

HANNIBAL'S CROSSING OF THE ALPS[70] (218 B. C. )

From the Druentia, by a road that lay principally through plains, Hannibal arrived at the Alps without molestation from the Gauls whoinhabit those regions. Then, tho the scene had been previouslyanticipated from report (by which uncertainties are wont to beexaggerated), yet the height of the mountains when viewed so near, andthe snows almost mingling with the sky, the shapeless huts situated onthe cliffs, the cattle and beasts of burden withered by the cold, themen unshorn and wildly drest, all things, animate and inanimate, stiffened with frost, and other objects more terrible to be seen thandescribed, renewed their alarm. 

To them, marching up the first acclivities, the mountaineers appearedoccupying the heights overhead, who, if they had occupied the moreconcealed valleys, might, by rushing out suddenly to the attack, haveoccasioned great flight and havoc. Hannibal orders them to halt, andhaving sent forward Gauls to view the ground, when he found there wasno passage that way, he pitches his camp in the widest valley he couldfind, among places all rugged and precipitous. Then, having learnedfrom the same Gauls, when they had mixed in conversation with themountaineers, from whom they differed little in language and manners, that the pass was only beset during the day, and that at night eachwithdrew to his own dwelling, he advanced at the dawn to the heights, as if designing openly and by day to force his way through the defile. The day then being passed in feigning a different attempt from thatwhich was in preparation, when they had fortified the camp in the sameplace where they had halted, as soon as he perceived that themountaineers had descended from the heights, and that the guards werewithdrawn, having lighted for show a greater number of fires than wasproportioned to the number that remained, and having left the baggagein the camp, with the cavalry and the principal part of the infantry, he himself with a party of light-armed soldiers, consisting of all themost courageous of his troops, rapidly cleared the defile, and tookposts on those very heights which the enemy had occupied. 

At dawn of light the next day the camp broke up, and the rest of thearmy began to move forward. The mountaineers, on a signal being given, were now assembling from their forts to their usual station, whenthey suddenly behold part of the enemy overhanging them from above, inpossession of their former position, and the others passing along theroad. Both these objects, presented at the same time to the eye andthe mind, made them stand motionless for a little while; but when theyafterward saw the confusion in the pass, and that the marching bodywas thrown into disorder by the tumult which itself created, principally from the horses being terrified, thinking that whateverterror they added would suffice for the destruction of the enemy, theyscramble along the dangerous rocks, as being accustomed alike topathless and circuitous ways. Then indeed the Carthaginians wereopposed at once by the enemy and by the difficulties of the ground;and each striving to escape first from the danger, there was morefighting among themselves than with their opponents. The horses, inparticular, created danger in the lines, which being terrified by thediscordant clamors that the groves and reechoing valleys augmented, fell into confusion; and if by chance struck or wounded, they were sodismayed that they occasioned a great loss both of men and baggage ofevery description; and as the pass on both sides was broken andprecipitous, this tumult threw many down to an immense depth, someeven of the armed men; but the beasts of burden, with their loads, were rolled down like the fall of some vast fabric. 

Tho these disasters were shocking to view, Hannibal, however, held hisplace for a little, and kept his men together, lest he might augmentthe tumult and disorder: but afterward, when he saw the line broken, and that there was danger that he should bring over his army preservedto no purpose if deprived of their baggage, he hastened down from thehigher ground; and tho he had routed the enemy by the first onsetalone, he at the same time increased the disorder in his own army; butthat tumult was composed in a moment, after the roads were cleared bythe flight of the mountaineers, and presently the whole army wasconducted through, not only without being disturbed, but almost insilence. He then took a fortified place, which was the capital of thatdistrict, and the little villages that lay around it, and fed his armyfor three days with the corn and cattle he had taken; and during thesethree days, as the soldiers were neither obstructed by themountaineers, who had been daunted by the first engagement, nor yetmuch by the ground, he made considerable way. 

He then came to another state, abounding, for a mountainous country, with inhabitants, where he was nearly overcome, not by open war, butby his own arts of treachery and ambuscade. Some old men, governors offorts, came as deputies to the Carthaginian, professing, "that havingbeen warned by the useful example of the calamities of others, theywished rather to experience the friendship than the hostilities of theCarthaginians; they would, therefore, obediently execute his commands, and begged that he would accept of a supply of provisions, guides ofhis march, and hostages for the sincerity of their promises. "Hannibal, when he had answered them in a friendly manner, thinkingthat they should neither be rashly trusted nor yet rejected, lest ifrepulsed they might openly become enemies, having received thehostages whom they proffered, and made use of the provisions whichthey of their own accord brought down to the road, followed theirguides, by no means as among a people with whom he was at peace, butwith his line of march in close order. The elephants and cavalryformed the van of the marching body; he himself, examining everythingaround, and intent on every circumstance, followed with the choicestof his infantry. When they came into a narrower pass, lying on oneside beneath an overhanging eminence, the barbarians, rising at onceon all sides from their ambush, assail them in front and rear, both atclose quarters and from a distance, and roll down huge stones on thearmy. The most numerous body of men prest on the rear; against whomthe infantry facing about and directing their attack made it veryobvious that, had not the rear of the army been well supported, agreat loss must have been sustained in that pass. Even as it was, theycame to the extremity of danger, and almost to destruction; for whileHannibal hesitated to lead down his division into the defile, because, tho he himself was a protection to the cavalry, he had not in the sameway left any aid to the infantry in the rear; the mountaineers, charging obliquely, and on having broken through the middle of thearmy, took possession of the road; and one night was spent by Hannibalwithout his cavalry and baggage. .. . 

On the standards being moved forward at daybreak, when the armyproceeded slowly over all places entirely blocked up with snow, andlanguor and despair strongly appeared in the countenances of all, Hannibal, having advanced before the standards, and ordered thesoldiers to halt on a certain eminence, whence there was a prospectfar and wide, pointed out to them Italy and the plains of the Po, extending themselves beneath the Alpine mountains; and said "that theywere now surmounting not only the ramparts of Italy, but also of thecity of Rome; that the rest of the journey would be smooth anddown-hill; that after one, or, at most, a second battle, they wouldhave the citadel and capital of Italy in their power and possession. "The army then began to advance, the enemy now making no attemptsbeyond petty thefts, as opportunity offered. But the journey provedmuch more difficult than it had been in the ascent, as the declivityof the Alps, being generally shorter on the side of Italy, isconsequently steeper; for nearly all the road was precipitous, narrow, and slippery, so that neither those who made the least stumble couldprevent themselves from falling, nor, when fallen, remain in the sameplace, but rolled, both men and beasts of burden, one upon another. 

They then came to a rock much more narrow, and formed of suchperpendicular ledges that a light-armed soldier, carefully making theattempt, and clinging with his hands to the bushes and roots around, could with difficulty lower himself down. The ground, even before verysteep by nature, had been broken by a recent falling away of the earthinto a precipice of nearly a thousand feet in depth. Here when thecavalry halted, as if at the end of their journey, it was announced toHannibal, wondering what obstructed the march, that the rock wasimpassable. Having then gone himself to view the place, it seemedclear to him that he must lead his army, by however great a circuit, through the pathless and untrodden regions around it. But this routealso proved impracticable; for while the new snow of a moderate depthremained on the old, which had not been removed, their footsteps wereplanted with ease as they walked upon the new snow, which was soft andnot too deep; but when it was dissolved by the trampling of so manymen and beasts of burden, they then walked on the bare ice below, andthrough the dirty fluid formed by the melting snow. Here there was awretched struggle, both on account of the slippery ice not affordingany hold to the step, and giving way beneath the foot more readily byreason of the slope; and whether they assisted themselves in rising bytheir hands or their knees, their supports themselves giving way, theywould tumble again; nor were there any stumps or roots near bypressing against which one might with hand or foot support oneself; sothat they only floundered on the smooth ice and amidst the meltedsnow. The beasts of burden sometimes also cut into this lower ice bymerely treading upon it, at others they broke it completely through, by the violence with which they struck in their hoofs in theirstruggling, so that most of them, as if taken in a trap, stuck in thehardened and deeply frozen ice. 

At length, after the men and beasts of burden had been fatigued to nopurpose, the camp was pitched on the summit, the ground being clearedfor that purpose with great difficulty, so much snow was there to bedug out and carried away. The soldiers being then set to make a waydown the cliff, by which alone a passage could be effected, and itbeing necessary that they should cut through the rocks, having felledand lopped a number of large trees which grew around, they make a hugepile of timber; and as soon as a strong wind fit for exciting theflames arose, they set fire to it, and, pouring vinegar on the heatedstones, they render them soft and crumbling. They then open a way withiron instruments through the rock thus heated by the fire, and softenits declivities by gentle windings, so that not only the beasts ofburden, but also the elephants, could be led down it. Four days werespent about this rock, the beasts nearly perishing through hunger; forthe summits of the mountains are for the most part bare, and if thereis any pasture the snows bury it. The lower parts contain valleys, andsome sunny hills, and rivulets flowing beside woods, and scenes moreworthy of the abode of man. There the beasts of burden were sent outto pasture, and rest given for three days to the men, fatigued withforming the passage; they then descended into the plains, the countryand the dispositions of the inhabitants being now less rugged. 

In this manner chiefly they came to Italy, in the fifth month (as someauthors relate) after leaving New Carthage, having crossed the Alpsin fifteen days. What number of forces Hannibal had when he had passedinto Italy is by no means agreed upon by authors. Those who state themat the highest make mention of a hundred thousand foot and twentythousand horse; those who state them at the lowest, of twenty thousandfoot and six thousand horse. Lucius Cincius Alimentus, who relatesthat he was made prisoner by Hannibal, would influence me most as anauthority did he not confound the number by adding the Gauls andLigurians. Including these (who, it is more probable, flocked to himafterward, as some authors assert), he says that eighty thousand footand ten thousand horse were brought into Italy; and that he had heardfrom Hannibal himself that, after crossing the Rhone, he had lostthirty-six thousand men, and an immense number of horses and otherbeasts of burden among the Taurini, [71] the next nation to the Gauls, as he descended into Italy. 

III

HANNIBAL AND SCIPIO AT ZAMA[72]

(202 B. C. )

Hannibal had by this time arrived at Adrumetum, [73] from which place, after employing a few days there in refreshing his soldiers, who hadsuffered from the motion by sea, he proceeded by forced marches toZama, roused by the alarming statements of messengers, who broughtword that all the country round Carthage was filled with armed troops. Zama is distant from Carthage a five days' journey. Some spies, whomhe had sent out from this place, being intercepted by the Roman guard, and brought before Scipio, he directed that they should be handed overto the military tribunes, and, after having been desired fearlessly tosurvey everything, he conducted them through the camp wherever theychose; then, asking them whether they had examined everything to theirsatisfaction, he assigned them an escort, and sent them back toHannibal. Hannibal received none of the circumstances which werereported to him with feelings of joy; for they brought word that, asit happened, Masinissa had joined the enemy that very day, with sixthousand infantry and four thousand horse; but he was principallydispirited by the confidence of his enemy, which, doubtless, was notconceived without some ground. Accordingly, tho he himself was theoriginator of the war, and by his coming had upset the truce which hadbeen entered into, and cut off all hopes of a treaty, yet, concludingthat more favorable terms might be obtained if he solicited peacewhile his strength was unimpaired than when vanquished, he sent amessage to Scipio requesting permission to confer with him. 

Their armed attendants having retired to an equal distance, they met, each attended by one interpreter, being the greatest generals not onlyof their own times, but of any to be found in the records of the timespreceding them, and equal to any of the kings or generals of anynation whatever. When they came within sight of each other theyremained silent for a short time, thunderstruck, as it were, withmutual admiration. At length Hannibal thus began:

"Since fate hath so ordained it, that I, who was the first to wage warupon the Romans, and who have so often had victory almost within myreach, should voluntarily come to sue for peace, I rejoice that it isyou, above all others, from whom it is my lot to solicit it. To you, also, amidst the many distinguished events of your life, it will notbe esteemed one of the least glorious that Hannibal, to whom the godshad so often granted victory over the Roman generals, should haveyielded to you; and that you should have put an end to this war, whichhas been rendered remarkable by your calamities before it was byours. In this, also, fortune would seem to have exhibited adisposition to sport with events, for it was when your father wasConsul that I first took up arms; he was the first Roman general withwhom I engaged in a pitched battle; and it is to his son that I nowcome unarmed to solicit peace. It were, indeed, most to have beendesired that the gods should have put such dispositions into the mindsof our fathers, that you should have been content with the empire ofItaly, and we with that of Africa; nor, indeed, even to you, areSicily and Sardinia of sufficient value to compensate you for the lossof so many fleets, so many armies, so many and such distinguishedgenerals. 

"But what is past may be more easily censured than retrieved. In ourattempts to acquire the possessions of others, we have been compelledto fight for our own; and not only have you had a war in Italy, and wealso in Africa, but you have beheld the standards and arms of yourenemies almost in your gates and on your walls, and we now, from thewalls of Carthage, distinctly hear the din of a Roman camp. What, therefore, we should most earnestly deprecate, and you should mostdevoutly wish for, is now the case: peace is proposed at a time whenyou have the advantage. We who negotiate it are the persons whom itmost concerns to obtain it, and we are persons 'whose arrangements, bethey what they will, our states will ratify. All we want is adisposition not averse from peaceful counsels. So far as relates tomyself, time (for I am returning to that country an old man which Ileft a boy), [74] and prosperity, and adversity, have so schooled methat I am more inclined to follow reason than fortune. But I fear youryouth and uninterrupted good fortune, both of which are apt to inspirea degree of confidence ill comporting with pacific counsels. Rarelydoes that man consider the uncertainty of events whom fortune hathnever deceived. What I was at Trasimenus and at Cannæ that you arethis day. Invested with command when you had scarcely yet attained themilitary age, tho all your enterprises were of the boldestdescription, in no instance has fortune deserted you. Avenging thedeath of your father and uncle, you have derived from the calamity ofyour house the high honor of distinguished valor and filial duty. Youhave recovered Spain, which had been lost, after driving thence fourCarthaginian armies. When elected Consul, tho all others wantedcourage to defend Italy, you crossed over into Africa, where, havingcut to pieces two armies, having at once captured and burned two campsin the same hour, having made prisoner Syphax, a most powerful king, and seized so many towns of his dominions and so many of ours, youhave dragged me from Italy, the possession of which I had firmly heldfor now sixteen years. .. . 

"Formerly, in this same country, Marcus Atilius would have formed oneamong the few instances of good fortune and valor, if, whenvictorious, he had granted a peace to our fathers when they requestedit; but by not setting any bounds to his success, and not checkinggood fortune, which was elating him, he fell with a degree of ignominyproportioned to his elevation. It is, indeed, the right of him whogrants, and not of him who solicits it, to dictate the terms of peace;but perhaps we may not be unworthy to impose upon ourselves the fine. We do not refuse that all those possessions on account of which thewar was begun should be yours--Sicily, Sardinia, Spain, with all theislands lying in any part of the sea, between Africa and Italy. Let usCarthaginians, confined within the shores of Africa, behold you, sincesuch is the pleasure of the gods, extending your empire over foreignnations, both by sea and land. I can not deny that you have reason tosuspect the Carthaginian faith, in consequence of their insinceritylately in soliciting a peace and while awaiting the decision. Thesincerity with which a peace will be observed depends much, Scipio, onthe person by whom it is sought. Your Senate, as I hear, refused togrant a peace, in some measure, because the deputies were deficient inrespectability. It is I, Hannibal, who now solicit peace, who wouldneither ask for it unless I believed it expedient, nor will I fail toobserve it for the same reason of expedience on account of which Ihave solicited it. And in the same manner as I, because the war wascommenced by me, brought it to pass that no one regretted it till thegods began to regard me with displeasure, so will I also exert myselfthat no one may regret the peace procured by my means. "

In answer to these things the Roman general spoke nearly to thefollowing effect: "I was aware that it was in consequence of theexpectation of your arrival that the Carthaginians violated theexisting faith of the truce and broke off all hope of a peace. Nor, indeed, do you conceal the fact; inasmuch as you artfully withdrawfrom the former conditions of peace every concession except whatrelates to those things which have for a long time been in our ownpower. But as it is your object that your countrymen should besensible how great a burden they are relieved from by your means, soit is incumbent upon me to endeavor that they may not receive, as thereward of their perfidy, the concessions which they formerlystipulated, by expunging them now from the conditions of the peace. Tho you do not deserve to be allowed the same conditions as before, you now request even to be benefited by your treachery. Neither didour fathers first make war respecting Sicily, nor did we respectingSpain. In the former case, the danger which threatened our allies, theMamertines, and in the present the destruction of Saguntum, girded uswith just and pious arms. That you were the aggressors, both youyourselves confess and the gods are witnesses, who determined theissue of the former war, and who are now determining, and willdetermine, the issue of the present according to right and justice. Asto myself, I am not forgetful of the instability of human affairs, butconsider the influence of fortune, and am well aware that all ourmeasures are liable to a thousand casualties. But as I shouldacknowledge that my conduct would savor of insolence and oppressionif I rejected you on your coming in person to solicit peace, before Icrossed over into Africa, you voluntarily retiring from Italy, andafter you had embarked your troops, so now, when I have dragged youinto Africa almost by manual force, notwithstanding your resistanceand evasions, I am not bound to treat you with any respect. Wherefore, if in addition to those stipulations on which it was considered that apeace would at that time have been agreed upon, and what they are youare informed, a compensation is proposed for having seized our ships, together with their stores, during a truce, and for the violenceoffered to our ambassadors, I shall then have matter to lay before mycouncil. But if these things also appear oppressive, prepare for war, since you could not brook the conditions of peace. "

Thus, without effecting an accommodation, when they had returned fromthe conference to their armies, they informed them that words had beenbandied to no purpose, that the question must be decided by arms, andthat they must accept that fortune which the gods assigned them. 

When they had arrived at their camps, they both issued orders thattheir soldiers should get their arms in readiness and prepare theirminds for the final contest; in which, if fortune should favor them, they would continue victorious, not for a single day, but forever. "Before tomorrow night, " they said, "they would know whether Rome orCarthage should give laws to the world; and that neither Africa norItaly, but the whole world, would be the prize of victory; that thedangers which threatened those who had the misfortune to be defeatedwere proportioned to the rewards of the victors. " For the Romans hadnot any place of refuge in an unknown and foreign land, and immediatedestruction seemed to await Carthage if the troops which formed herlast reliance were defeated. To this important contest, the dayfollowing, two generals, by far the most renowned of any, andbelonging to two of the most powerful nations in the world, advancedeither to crown or overthrow, on that day, the many honors they hadpreviously acquired. .. . 

While the general was busily employed among the Carthaginians, and thecaptains of the respective nations among their countrymen, most ofthem employing interpreters among troops intermixed with those ofdifferent nations, the trumpets and cornets of the Romans sounded; andsuch a clamor arose that the elephants, especially those in the leftwing, turned round upon their own party, the Moors and Numidians. Masinissa had no difficulty in increasing the alarm of the terrifiedenemy, and deprived them of the aid of their cavalry in that wing. Afew, however, of the beasts which were driven against the enemy, andwere not turned back through fear, made great havoc among the ranks ofthe velites, tho not without receiving many wounds themselves; forwhen the velites, retiring to the companies, had made way for theelephants, that they might not be trampled down, they discharged theirdarts at the beasts, exposed as they were to wounds on both sides, those in the van also keeping up a continual discharge of javelins;until, driven out of the Roman line by the weapons which fell uponthem from all quarters, these elephants also put to flight even thecavalry of the Carthaginians posted in their right wing. Lælius, whenhe saw the enemy in disorder, struck additional terror into them intheir confusion. 

The Carthaginian line was deprived of the cavalry on both sides, whenthe infantry, who were now not a match for the Romans in confidence orstrength, engaged. In addition to this there was one circumstance, trifling in itself, but at the same time producing importantconsequences in the action. On the part of the Romans the shout wasuniform, and on that account louder and more terrific; while thevoices of the enemy, consisting as they did of many nations ofdifferent languages, were dissonant. The Romans used the stationarykind of fight, pressing upon the enemy with their own weight and thatof their arms; but on the other side there was more of skirmishing andrapid movement than force. 

Accordingly, on the first charge, the Romans immediately drove backthe line of their opponents; then pushing them with their elbows andthe bosses of their shields, and pressing forward into the places fromwhich they had pushed them, they advanced a considerable space, as thothere had been no one to resist them, those who formed the rear urgingforward those in front when they perceived the line of the enemygiving way, which circumstance itself gave great additional force inrepelling them. On the side of the enemy, the second line, consistingof the Africans and Carthaginians, were so far from supporting thefirst line when giving ground, that, on the contrary, they evenretired, lest their enemy, by slaying those who made a firmresistance, should penetrate to themselves also. Accordingly, theauxiliaries suddenly turned their backs, and facing about upon theirown party, fled some of them into the second line, while others slewthose who did not receive them into their ranks, since before they didnot support them, and now refused to receive them. 

And now there were, in a manner, two contests going on together, theCarthaginians being compelled to fight at once with the enemy and withtheir own party. Not even then, however, did they receive into theirline the terrified and exasperated troops; but, closing their ranks, drove them out of the scene of action to the wings and the surroundingplain, lest they should mingle these soldiers, terrified with defeatand wounds, with that part of their line which was firm and fresh. Butsuch a heap of men and arms had filled the space in which theauxiliaries a little while ago had stood that it was almost moredifficult to pass through it than through a close line of troops. Thespearmen, therefore, who formed the front line, pursuing the enemy aseach could find a way through the heap of firms and men, and streamsof blood, threw into complete disorder the battalions and companies. The standards, also, of the principes had begun to waver when they sawthe line before them driven from their ground. Scipio, perceivingthis, promptly ordered the signal to be given for the spearmen toretreat, and, having taken his wounded into the rear, brought theprincipes and triarii to the wings, in order that the line ofspearmen in the center might be more strong and secure. Thus a freshand renewed battle commenced, inasmuch as they had penetrated to theirreal antagonists, men equal to them in the nature of their arms, intheir experience in war, in the fame of their achievements, and thegreatness of their hopes and fears. But the Romans were superior bothin numbers and courage, for they had now routed both the cavalry andthe elephants, and, having already defeated the front line, werefighting against the second. .. . 

Hannibal, after performing this, as it were, his last work of valor, fled to Adrumetum, whence, having been summoned to Carthage, hereturned thither in the six and thirtieth year after he had left itwhen a boy, and confest in the senate house that he was defeated, notonly in the battle, but in the war, and that there was no hope o±safety in anything but obtaining peace. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 67: "The most eloquent of all historians, " says Cruttwell. Livy understood the spirit of ancient times, making it real to modernminds because he possest "antiquity of soul. " In his own day Livy'spopularity was almost limitless. Pliny the Younger recalled that a manonce traveled to Rome from Cadiz with the express purpose of seeingLivy. Having seen him he returned home at once, caring for nothingelse in Rome. ]

[Footnote 68: From Book II of the "History of Rome. " Translated by D. Spillan and Cyrus Edmonds. "Cocles" was a nick-name meaning the"one-eyed. " With this story every school-boy has been made familiarthrough Macaulay's "Lay, " beginning:

 "Lars Porsena of Clusium By the Nine Gods he swore That the great house of Tarquin Should suffer wrong no more. "]

[Footnote 69: Authorities differ as to the site of this bridge. "Larousse" has a map which identifies it as the site now occupied bythe Æmilian bridge, at the base of the Palatine, near the mouth of theCloaca Maxima; but the "Encyclopædia Britannica, " in a map of ancientRome, places it farther down the Tiber near the center of the base ofthe Aventine. Murray's "Handbook of Rome" agrees with the"Britannica. " This bridge was the first one built at Rome, and isascribed to King Ancus Martius. ]

[Footnote 70: From Book XXI of the "History of Rome. " Translated by D. Spillan and Cyrus Edmonds. The identity of the pass through whichHannibal crossed has been the subject of much controversy. A writer inSmith's "Dictionary" says the account in Polybius "will be found, onthe whole, to agree best with the supposition that Hannibal crossed bythe Little St. Bernard. " At the same time, "there are somedifficulties" attending this inference. ]

[Footnote 71: A tribe living in the upper valley of the Po, nearTurin. ]

[Footnote 72: From Book XXX of the "History of Rome. " Translated by D. Spillan and Cyrus Edmonds. ]

[Footnote 73: Adrumetum lay in what is now Tunis and was originally aPhenician city. It was older than Carthage. For many centuries it wasa chief seaport for northern Africa. It is now known as Susa. ]

[Footnote 74: Hannibal, who when a boy of nine had left Carthage forSpain with his father, Hamilcar Barca, at that time took an oath uponan altar declaring eternal hostility to Rome. In the year of Zama hewas forty-five years old. ]

SENECA

 Born in Spain about 4 B. C. ; died near Rome in 65 A. D. ; celebrated as a Stoic and writer; taken to Rome when a child; a senator in Caligula's reign; banished to Corsica by Claudius in 41; recalled in 49, and entrusted with the education of Nero; after Nero's accession in 54 virtually controlled the imperial government, exercising power in concert with the Prætorian prefect, Burrus; on the assassination of Burrus in 62 petitioned for leave to retire from court, and virtually did withdraw; on being charged with complicity in the conspiracy of Piso, he committed suicide in obedience to Nero's order; his extant writings are numerous, and include "Benefits, " "Clemency, " and "Minor Essays. "[75]

I

OF THE WISE MAN[76]

I might truly say, Serenus, that there is as wide a difference betweenthe Stoics and the other sects of philosophers as there is between menand women, since each class contributes an equal share to humansociety, but the one is born to command, the other to obey. The otherphilosophers deal with us gently and coaxingly, just as ouraccustomed family physicians usually do with our bodies, treating themnot by the best and shortest method, but by that which we allow themto employ; whereas the Stoics adopt a manly course, and do not careabout its appearing attractive to those who are entering upon it, butthat it should as quickly as possible take us out of the world, andlead us to that lofty eminence which is so far beyond the scope of anymissile weapon that it is above the reach of Fortune herself. "But theway by which we are asked to climb is steep and uneven. " What then?Can heights be reached by a level path? Yet they are not so sheer andprecipitous as some think. It is only the first part that has rocksand cliffs and no apparent outlet, just as many hills seen from a longway off appear abruptly steep and joined together, because thedistance deceives our sight, and then, as we draw nearer, those veryhills which our mistaken eyes had made into one gradually unfoldthemselves, those parts which seemed precipitous from afar assume agently sloping outline. When just now mention was made of Marcus Cato, you whose mind revolts at injustice were indignant at Cato's own agehaving so little understood him, at its having allotted a place belowVatinius to one who towered above both Cæsar and Pompey; it seemedshameful to you, that when he spoke against some law in the Forum histoga was torn from him, and that he was hustled through the hands of amutinous mob from the Rostra as far as the arch of Fabius, [77]enduring all the bad language, spitting, and other insults of thefrantic rabble. 

I then answered, that you had good cause to be anxious on behalf ofthe commonwealth, which Publius Clodius on the one side, Vatinius andall the greatest scoundrels on the other, were putting up for sale, and, carried away by their blind covetousness, did not understand thatwhen they sold it they themselves were sold with it; I bade you haveno fears on behalf of Cato himself, because the wise man can neitherreceive injury nor-insult, and it is more certain that the immortalgods have given Cato as a pattern of a wise man to us, than that theygave Ulysses or Hercules to the earlier ages; for these our Stoicshave declared were wise men, unconquered by labors, despisers ofpleasure, and superior to all terrors. Cato did not slay wild beasts, whose pursuit belongs to huntsmen and countrymen, nor did heexterminate fabulous creatures with fire and sword, or live in timeswhen it was possible to believe that the heavens could be supported onthe shoulders of one man. In an age which had thrown off its belief inantiquated superstitions, and had carried material knowledge to itshighest point, he had to struggle against that many-headed monster, ambition, against that boundless lust for power which the whole worlddivided among three men could not satisfy. He alone withstood thevices of a worn-out state sinking into ruin through its own bulk; heupheld the falling commonwealth as far as it could be upheld by oneman's hand, until at last his support was withdrawn, and he shared thecrash which he had so long averted, and perished together with thatfrom which it was impious to separate him--for Cato did not outlivefreedom, nor did freedom outlive Cato. Think you that the people coulddo any wrong to such a man when they tore away his prætorship or histoga? when they bespattered his sacred head with the rinsings of theirmouths? The wise man is safe, and no injury or insult can touchhim. .. . 

Consider now, whether any thief, or false accuser, or headstrongneighbor, or rich man enjoying the power conferred by a childless oldage, could do any injury to this man, from whom neither war nor anenemy whose profession was the noble art of battering city walls couldtake away anything. Amid the flash of swords on all sides, and theriot of the plundering soldiery, amid the flames and blood and ruin ofthe fallen city, amid the crash of temples falling upon their gods, one man was at peace. You need not therefore account that a recklessboast, for which I will give you a surety, if my word goes fornothing. Indeed, you would hardly believe so much constancy or suchgreatness of mind to belong to any man; but here a man comes forwardto prove that you have no reason for doubting that one who is but ofhuman birth can raise himself above human necessities, can tranquillybehold pains, losses, diseases, wounds, and great natural convulsionsroaring around him, can bear adversity with calm and prosperity withmoderation, neither yielding to the former nor trusting to the latter, that he can remain the same amid all varieties of fortune, and thinknothing to be his own save himself, and himself too only as regardshis better part. .. . 

You have no cause for saying, as you are wont to do, that this wiseman of ours is nowhere to be found; we do not invent him as an unrealglory of the human race, or conceive a mighty shadow of an untruth, but we have displayed and will display him just as we sketch him, thohe may perhaps be uncommon, and only one appears at long intervals;for what is great and transcends the common ordinary type is not oftenproduced; but this very Marcus Cato himself, the mention of whomstarted this discussion, was a man who I fancy even surpassed ourmodel. Moreover, that which hurts must be stronger than that which ishurt. Now wickedness is not stronger than virtue; therefore the wiseman can not be hurt. Only the bad attempt to injure the good. Good menare at peace among themselves; bad ones are equally mischievous to thegood and to one another. If a man can not be hurt by one weaker thanhimself, and a bad man be weaker than a good one, and the good have noinjury to dread, except from one unlike themselves; then, no injurytakes effect upon the wise man; for by this time I need not remind youthat no one save the wise man is good. .. . 

The nobler a man is by birth, by reputation, or by inheritance, themore bravely he should bear himself, remembering that the tallest menstand in the front rank in battle. As for insults, offensive language, marks of disgrace, and such like disfigurements, he ought to bear themas he would bear the shouts of the enemy, and darts or stones flungfrom a distance, which rattle upon his helmet without causing a wound;while he should look upon injuries as wounds, some received on hisarmor and others on his body, which he endures without falling or evenleaving his place in the ranks. Even tho you be hard prest andviolently attacked by the enemy, still it is base to give way; holdthe post assigned to you by nature. You ask, what this post is? it isthat of being a man. The wise man has another help, of the oppositekind to this; you are hard at work, while he has already won thevictory. Do not quarrel with your own good advantage, and, until youshall have made your way to the truth, keep alive this hope in yourminds, be willing to receive the news of a better life, and encourageit by your admiration and your prayers; it is to the interest of thecommonwealth of mankind that there should be some one who isunconquered, some one against whom fortune has no power. 

II

OF CONSOLATION FOR THE LOSS OF FRIENDS[78]

Why should I lead you on through the endless series of great men andpick out the unhappy ones, as tho it were not more difficult to findhappy ones? for how few households have remained possest of all theirmembers to the end? what one is there that has not suffered some loss?Take any one year you please and name the Consuls for it; if you like, that of Lucius Bibulus[79] and Julius Cæsar; you will see that, thothese colleagues were each other's bitterest enemies, yet theirfortunes agreed. Lucius Bibulus, a man more remarkable for goodnessthan for strength of character, had both his sons murdered at the sametime, and even insulted by the Egyptian soldiery, so that the agent ofhis bereavement was as much a subject for tears as the bereavementitself. Nevertheless Bibulus, who during the whole of his year ofoffice had remained hidden in his house, to cast reproach upon hiscolleague Cæsar on the day following that upon which he heard of bothhis sons' deaths, came forth and went through the routine business ofhis magistracy. Who could devote less than one day to mourning fortwo sons? Thus soon did he end his mourning for his children, altho hehad mourned a whole year for his consulship. Gaius Cæsar, after havingtraversed Britain, and not allowed even the ocean to set bounds to hissuccesses, heard of the death of his daughter, which hurried on thecrisis of affairs. Already Cnæus Pompey stood before his eyes, a manwho would ill endure that any one besides himself should become agreat power in the state, and one who was likely to place a check uponhis advancement, which he had regarded, as onerous even when eachgained by the other's rise: yet within three days' time he resumed hisduties as general, and conquered his grief as quickly as he was wontto conquer everything else. 

Why need I remind you of the deaths of the other Cæsars, whom fortuneappears to me sometimes to have outraged in order that even by theirdeaths they might be useful to mankind, by proving that not even they, altho they were styled "sons of gods, " and "fathers of gods to come, "could exercise the same power over their own fortunes which they didover those of others? The Emperor Augustus lost his children and hisgrandchildren, and after all the family of Cæsar had perished wasobliged to prop his empty house by adopting a son: yet he bore hislosses as bravely as tho he were already personally concerned in thehonor of the gods, and as tho it were especially to his interest thatno one should complain of the injustice of Heaven. Tiberius Cæsar lostboth the son whom he begot and the son whom he adopted, yet hehimself pronounced a panegyric upon his son from the Rostra, andstood in full view of the corpse, which merely had a curtain on oneside to prevent the eyes of the high priest resting upon the deadbody, and did not change his countenance, tho all the Romans wept: hegave Sejanus, who stood by his side, a proof of how patiently he couldendure the loss of his relatives. See you not what numbers of mosteminent men there have been, none of whom have been spared by thisblight which prostrates us all: men, too, adorned with every grace ofcharacter, and every distinction that public or private life canconfer. It appears as tho this plague moved in a regular orbit, andspread ruin and desolation among us all without distinction ofpersons, all being alike its prey. Bid any number of individuals tellyou the story of their lives: you will find that all have paid somepenalty for being born. 

I know what you will say, "You quote men as examples: you forget thatit is a woman that you are trying to console. " Yet who would say thatnature has dealt grudgingly with the minds of women and stunted theirvirtues? Believe me, they have the same intellectual power as men, andthe same capacity for honorable and generous action. If trained to doso, they are just as able to endure sorrow or labor. Ye good gods, doI say this in that very city in which Lucretia and Brutus removed theyoke of kings from the necks of the Romans? We owe liberty to Brutus, but we owe Brutus to Lucretia--in which Cloelia, [80] for thesublime courage with which she scorned both the enemy and the river, has been almost reckoned as a man. 

The statue of Coelia, mounted on horseback, in the busiest ofthoroughfares, the Sacred Way, continually reproaches the youth of thepresent day, who never mount anything but a cushioned seat in acarriage, with journeying in such a fashion through that very city inwhich we have enrolled even women among our knights. If you wish me topoint out to you examples of women who have bravely endured the lossof their children, I shall not go far afield to search for them: inone family I can quote two Cornelias, one the daughter of Scipio, andthe mother of Gracchi, who made acknowledgment of the birth of hertwelve children by burying them all; nor was it so hard to do this inthe case of the others, whose birth and death were alike unknown tothe public, but she beheld the murdered and unburied corpses of bothTiberius Gracchus and Gaius Gracchus, whom even those who will notcall them good must admit were great men. Yet to those who tried toconsole her and called her unfortunate, she answered, "I shall nevercease to call myself happy, because I am the mother of the Gracchi. "Cornelia, the wife of Livius Drusus, [81] lost by the hands of anunknown assassin a young son of great distinction, who was treading inthe footsteps of the Gracchi, and was murdered in his own house justwhen he had so many bills half-way through the process of becominglaw: nevertheless she bore the untimely and unavenged death of her sonwith as lofty a spirit as he had shown in carrying his laws. 

Will you not, Marcia, forgive Fortune because she has not refrainedfrom striking you with the darts which she launched at the Scipios, and the mothers and daughters of the Scipios, and with which she hasattacked the Cæsars themselves? Life is full of misfortunes; our pathis beset with them: no one can make a long peace, nay, scarcely anarmistice with fortune. You, Marcia, have borne four children; nowthey say that no dart which is hurled into a close column of soldierscan fail to hit one--ought you then to wonder at not having been ableto lead along such a company without exciting the ill will of Fortune, or suffering loss at her hands?. .. 

Think how great a blessing is a timely death, how many have beeninjured by living longer than they ought. If sickness had carried offthat glory and support of the empire, Cnæus Pompey, at Naples, hewould have died undoubted head of the Roman people, but as it was, ashort extension of time cast him down from his pinnacle of fame: hebeheld his legions slaughtered before his eyes: and what a sad relicof that battle, in which the Senate formed the first line, was thesurvival of the general. He saw his Egyptian butcher, and offered hisbody, hallowed by so many victories, to a guardsman's sword, altho, even had he been unhurt, he would have regretted his safety: for whatcould have been more infamous than that a Pompey should owe his lifeto the clemency of a king? If Marcus Cicero had fallen at the timewhen he avoided those dangers which Catiline aimed equally at him andat his country, he might have died as the savior of the commonwealthwhich he had set free: if his death had even followed upon that of hisdaughter, he might have died happy. He would not then have seen swordsdrawn for the slaughter of Roman citizens, the goods of the murdereddivided among the murderers, that men might pay from their own pursethe price of their own blood, the public auction of the Consul's spoilin the civil war, the public letting out of murder to be done, brigandage, war, pillage, hosts of Catilines. Would it not have been agood thing for Marcus Cato if the sea had swallowed him up when he wasreturning from Cyprus after sequestrating the king's hereditarypossessions, even if that very money which he was bringing to pay thesoldiers in the civil war had been lost with him? He certainly wouldhave been able to boast that no one would dare to do wrong in thepresence of Cato: as it was, the extension of his life for a very fewmore years forced one who was born for personal and political freedomto flee from Cæsar and to become Pompey's follower. Premature deaththerefore did him no evil: indeed, it put an end to the power of anyevil to hurt him. .. . 

Born for a very brief space of time, we regard this life as an innwhich we are soon to quit that it may be made ready for the comingguest, Do I speak of our lives, which we know roll away incrediblyfast? Reckon up the centuries of cities: you will find that even thosewhich boast of their antiquity have not existed for long. All humanworks are brief and fleeting: they take up no part whatever ofinfinite time. Tried by the standard of the universe, we regard thisearth of ours, with all its cities, nations, rivers, and seaboard, asa mere point: our life occupies less than a point when compared withall time, the measure of which exceeds that of the world, for indeedthe world is contained many times in it. Of what importance, then, canit be to lengthen that which, however much you add to it, will neverbe much more than nothing? We can only make our lives long by oneexpedient, that is, by being satisfied with their length: you may tellme of long-lived men, whose length of days has been celebrated bytradition, you may assign a hundred and ten years apiece to them: yetwhen you allow your mind to conceive the idea of eternity, there willbe no difference between the shortest and the longest life, if youcompare the time during which any one has been alive with that duringwhich he has not been alive. In the next place, when he died his lifewas complete; he had lived as long as he needed to live: there wasnothing left for him to accomplish. 

III

TO NERO ON CLEMENCY[82]

You, Cæsar, can boldly say that everything which has come into yourcharge has been kept safe, and that the state has neither openly norsecretly suffered any loss at your hands. You have coveted a glorywhich is most rare, and which has been obtained by no emperor beforeyou, that of innocence. Your remarkable goodness is not thrown away, nor is it ungratefully or spitefully undervalued. Men feel gratitudetoward you: no one person ever was so dear to another as you are tothe people of Rome, whose great and enduring benefit you are. Youhave, however, taken upon yourself a mighty burden: no one any longerspeaks of the good times of the late Emperor Augustus, or the firstyears of the reign of Tiberius, or proposes for your imitation anymodel outside yourself: yours is a pattern reign. This would have beendifficult had your goodness of heart not been innate, but merelyadopted for a time; for no one can wear a mask for long, andfictitious qualities soon give place to true ones. Those which arefounded upon truth, become greater and better as time goes on. 

The Roman people were in a state of great hazard as long as it wasuncertain how your generous disposition would turn out: now, however, the prayers of the community are sure of an answer, for there is nofear that you should suddenly forget your own character. Indeed, excess of happiness makes men greedy, and our desires are never somoderate as to be bounded by what they have obtained: great successesbecome the stepping-stones to greater ones, and those who haveobtained more than they hoped, entertain even more extravagant hopesthan before; yet by all your countrymen we hear it admitted that theyare now happy, and moreover, that nothing can be added to theblessings that they enjoy, except that they should be eternal. Manycircumstances force this admission from them, altho it is the onewhich men are least willing to make: we enjoy a profound andprosperous peace, the power of the law has been openly asserted in thesight of all men, and raised beyond the reach of any violentinterference: the form of our government is so happy, as to containall the essentials of liberty except the power of destroying itself. It is nevertheless your clemency which is most especially admired bythe high and low alike: every man enjoys or hopes to enjoy the otherblessings of your rule according to the measure of his own personalgood fortune, whereas from your clemency all hope alike: no one has somuch confidence in his innocence, as not to feel glad that in yourpresence stands a clemency which is ready to make allowance for humanerrors. .. . 

Since I have made mention of the gods, I shall state the best modelon which a prince may mold his life to be, that he deal with hiscountrymen as he would that the gods may deal with himself. Is it thendesirable that the gods should show no mercy upon sins and mistakes, and that they should harshly pursue us to our ruin? In that case whatking will be safe? Whose limbs will not be torn asunder and collectedby the sooth-sayers If, on the other hand, the gods are placable andkind, and do not at once avenge the crimes of the powerful withthunderbolts, is it not far more just that a man set in authority overother men should exercise his power in a spirit of clemency and shouldconsider whether the conditions of the world is more beauteous andpleasant to the eyes on a fine calm day, or when everything is shakenwith frequent thunder-claps and when lightning flashes on all sides!Yet the appearance of a peaceful and constitutional reign is the sameas that of the calm and brilliant sky. A cruel reign is disordered andhidden in darkness, and while all shake with terror at the suddenexplosions, not even he who caused all this disturbance escapesunharmed. It is easier to find excuses for private men who obstinatelyclaim their rights; possibly they may have been injured and their ragemay spring from their wrongs; besides this, they fear to be despised, and not to return the injuries which they have received looks likeweakness rather than clemency; but one who can easily avenge himself, if he neglects to do so, is certain to gain praise for goodness ofheart. Those who are born in a humble station may with greater freedomexercise violence, go to law, engage in quarrels, and indulge theirangry passions; even blows count for little between two equals; but incase of a king, even loud clamor and unmeasured talk areunbecoming. .. . 

Such was Augustus when an old man, or when growing old: in his youthhe was hasty and passionate, and did many things upon which he lookedback with regret. No one will venture to compare the rule of the blestAugustus to the mildness of your own, even if your youth be comparedwith his more than ripe old age: he was gentle and placable, but itwas after he had dyed the sea at Actium with Roman blood; after he hadwrecked both the enemy's fleet and his own at Sicily; after theholocaust of Perusia and the proscriptions. But I do not call itclemency to be wearied of cruelty; true clemency, Cæsar, is that whichyou display, which has not begun from remorse at its past ferocity, onwhich there is no stain, which has never shed the blood of yourcountrymen: this, when combined with unlimited power, shows the truestself-control and all-embracing love of the human race as of one'sself, not corrupted by any low desires, any extravagant ideas, or anyof the bad examples of former emperors into trying, by actualexperiment, how great a tyranny you would be allowed to exercise overhis countrymen, but inclining rather to blunting your sword of empire. 

You, Cæsar, have granted us the boon of keeping our state free frombloodshed, and that of which you boast, that you have not caused onesingle drop of blood to flow in any part of the world, is all the moremagnanimous and marvelous because no one ever had the power of thesword placed in his hands at an earlier age. Clemency, then, makesempires besides being their most trustworthy means of preservation. Why have legitimate sovereigns grown old on the throne, and bequeathedtheir power to their children and grandchildren, while the sway ofdespotic usurpers is both hateful and short-lived? What is thedifference between the tyrant and the king--for their outward symbolsof authority and their powers are the same--except it be that tyrantstake delight in cruelty, whereas kings are only cruel for good reasonsand because they can not help it. .. . 

Nothing can be imagined which is more becoming to a sovereign thanclemency, by whatever title and right he may be set over his fellowcitizens. The greater his power, the more beautiful and admirable hewill confess his clemency to be: for there is no reason why powershould do any harm, if only it be wielded in accordance with the lawsof nature. Nature herself has conceived the idea of a king, as you maylearn from various animals, and especially from bees, among whom theking's cell is the roomiest, and is placed in the most central andsafest part of the hive; moreover, he does no work, but employshimself in keeping the others up to their work. If the king be lost, the entire swarm disperses: they never endure to have more than oneking at a time, and find out which is the better by making them fightwith one another: moreover the king is distinguished by his statelierappearance, being both larger and more brilliantly colored than theother bees. 

The most remarkable distinction, however, is the following: bees arevery fierce, and for their size are the most pugnacious of creatures, and leave their stings in the wounds which they make, but the kinghimself has no sting: nature does not wish him to be savage or to seekrevenge at so dear a rate, and so has deprived him of his weapon anddisarmed his rage. She has offered him as a pattern to greatsovereigns; for she is wont to practise herself in small matters, andto scatter abroad tiny models of the hugest structures. We ought to beashamed of not learning a lesson in behavior from these smallcreatures, for a man, who has so much more power of doing harm thanthey, ought to show a correspondingly greater amount of self-control. Would that human beings were subject to the same law, and that theiranger destroyed itself together with its instruments, so that theycould only inflict a wound once, and would not make use of thestrength of others to carry out their hatreds; for their fury wouldsoon grow faint if it carried its own punishment with it, and couldonly give rein to its violence at the risk of death. Even as it is, however, no one can exercise it with safety, for he must needs feel asmuch fear as he hopes to cause, he must watch every one's movements, and even when his enemies are not laying violent hands upon him hemust bear in mind that they are plotting to do so, and he can not havea single moment free from alarm. Would any one endure to live such alife as this, when he might enjoy all the privileges of his highstation to the general joy of all men, without fear? for it is amistake to suppose that the king can be safe in a state where nothingis safe from the king; he can only purchase a life without anxietyfor himself by guaranteeing the same for his subjects. He need notpile up lofty citadels, escarp steep hills, cut away the sides ofmountains, and fence himself about with many lines of walls andtowers: clemency will render a king safe even upon an open plain. Theone fortification which can not be stormed is the love of hiscountrymen. .. . 

The reason why cruelty is the most hateful of all vices is that itgoes first beyond ordinary limits, and then beyond those of humanity;that it devises new kinds of punishments, calls ingenuity to aid it ininventing devices for varying and lengthening men's torture, and takesdelight in their sufferings: this accursed disease of the mind reachesits highest pitch of madness when cruelty itself turns into pleasureand the act of killing a man becomes enjoyment. Such a ruler is sooncast down from his throne; his life is attempted by poison one day andby the sword the next; he is exposed to as many dangers as there aremen to whom he is dangerous, and he is sometimes destroyed by theplots of individuals, and at others by a general insurrection. Wholecommunities are not roused to action by unimportant outrages onprivate persons; but cruelty which takes a wider range, and from whichno one is safe, becomes a mark for all men's weapons. Very smallsnakes escape our notice, and the whole country does not combine todestroy them; but when one of them exceeds the usual size and growsinto a monster, when it poisons fountains with its spittle, scorchesherbage with its breath, and spreads ruin wherever it crawls, weshoot at it with military engines. Trifling evils may cheat us andelude our observation, but we gird up our loins to attack great ones. One sick person does not so much as disquiet the house in which helies; but when frequent deaths show that a plague is raging, there isa general outcry, men take to flight and shake their fists angrily atthe very gods themselves. If a fire breaks out under one single roof, the family and the neighbors pour water upon it; but a wideconflagration which has consumed many houses must be smothered underthe ruins of a whole quarter of a city. .. . 

I have been especially led to write about clemency, Nero Cæsar, by asaying of yours, which I remember having heard with admiration andwhich I afterward told to others: a noble saying, showing a great mindand great gentleness, which suddenly burst from you withoutpremeditation, and was not meant to reach any ears but your own, andwhich displayed the conflict which was raging between your naturalgoodness and your imperial duties. Your præfect Burrus[83], anexcellent man who was born to be the servant of such an emperor as youare, was about to order two brigands to be executed, and was pressingyou to write their names and the grounds on which they were to be putto death; this had often been put off, and he was insisting that itshould then be done. When he reluctantly produced the document andput it in your equally reluctant hands, you exclaimed: "Would that Ihad never learned my letters!" O what a speech, how worthy to be heardby all nations, both those who dwell within the Roman Empire, thosewho enjoy a debatable independence upon its borders, and those whoeither in will or in deed fight against it! It is a speech which oughtto be spoken before a meeting of all mankind, whose words all kingsand princes ought to swear to and obey: a speech worthy of the days ofhuman innocence, and worthy to bring back that golden age. Now intruth we ought all to agree to love righteousness and goodness, covetousness, which is the root of all evil, ought to be driven away, piety and virtue, good faith and modesty ought to resume theirinterrupted reign, and the vices which have so long and so shamefullyruled us ought at last to give way to an age of happiness and purity. 

IV

THE PILOT[84]

A tempest and storme hurt a Pilot, but notwithstanding they make himnot worse. Certaine Stoicks do thus answer against this, that a Pilotis made worse by a tempest and by a storme, because that thing whichhe had purposed he cannot effect, nor keep on his course. Worse is hemade, not in his skill, but in his work. To whom the Aristotelian:therefore, saith he, pouertie and dolour, and what soeuer such likething there shall be, shall not take vertue from him, but shall hinderhis working thereof. 

This were rightly said, except the condition of a Pilot and of awise-man were unlike. For the purpose of him is in leading his life, not without faile to effect that which he assayeth to doe, but to doeall things aright. It is the purpose of the Pilot, without faile tobring a ship into a hauen. They be seruile arts, they ought toperforme that which they promise. Wisedome is mistresse andgouernesse. The arts doe serve to, wisedome commandeth our life. Ijudge that we must answere after another sort, namely that neyther theskill of the gouernour is made worse by any tempest, nor yet the veryadministration of art. The gouernour hath not promised prosperoussuccesse unto thee, but his profitable endeuour, and skill to gouernethe ship. This appeareth the more, by how much the more some force offortune hath hindered him. He that hath beene able to say this, ONeptune, this ship was neuer but right, hath satisfied skill. Atempest hindereth not the work of a pilot, but the successe. 

What therefore sayeth thou? Doth not that thing hurt a Pilot, whichhindereth him from entring the Port? Which causeth his endeuours to bevaine? Which eyther beareth him back, or detaineth and disarmeth him?It hurteth him not as Pilot, but as one that doth saile. Otherwise itdoth not so much hinder, as shew the Pilot's skill. For euery onecan, as they say, be a pilot in the calme. These things hinder theship; not a pilot as he is a pilot. Two persons a pilot hath; the onecommon with all who haue gone aboard the same ship, wherein hehimselfe also is a passenger; the other proper as he is gouernour. Thetempest hurteth him as he is a passenger not as a Pilot. Furthermorethe art of a Pilot is another good, it appertaineth to those whom hecarrieth: as the art of a Physitian appertaineth to those whom he dothcure. Wisedome is a common good; and is proper to ownes selfe, forthose with whom he doth liue. Therefore peraduenture a Pilot is hurt, whose promised seruice to others is let by a tempest. 

A wise man is not hurt by pouertie, nor by doulour, nor by othertempests of life. For not all workes of him be hindered, but onlythose that pertain to other men; alwayes is he himself indeed, thegreatest of all, when fortune hath opposed herselfe unto him, thenmanageth he the businesse of wisdome itselfe: which wisdome we hauesaid to be both anothers and his owne good. Furthermore not thenindeed is he hindered to profite other men, when some necessities dopresse him. Through pouertie he is hindred to teach, how aCommonwealth may be managed: but he teacheth that thing, how pouertieis to be managed. His worke is extended all his life long. Thus nofortune, no thing excludeth the acts of a wise-man. For he doth notthat verie thing, whereby he is forbidden to do other things. He isfit for both chances: a gouernour of the bad, an ouercommer of thegood. So I say hath he exercised himselfe, that he sheweth vertue aswell in prosperous as in aduerse affaires; neyther looketh he uponthe matter thereof, but upon itselfe. Therefore neither pouerty nordoulour, nor any other thing which turneth back the unskilfull, anddriuest them headlong, hindereth them. Hast thou rather he should bepressed? He maketh use of it. Not only of iuorie did Phidias know howto make images: he made them of brasse. If marble were unto him, ifthou hadst offered baser matter, he would haue made such a onethereof, as could be made of that which was the best. 

So a wise-man will show uertue, if he may, in wealth, if not inpouertie: if he shall be able, in his countrie; if not in banishment;if he can, being a commander; if not, being a souldier: if he canbeing sound; if not, being weaker what fortune soeuer he shallentertaine, he will performe some memorable thing thereby. Certaintamers there be of wild beasts, who teach the fiercest creatures, andwhich terrifie a man when they meet him, to suffer the yoake: and notwanted to have shaken fiercenesse off, do tame them, euer to keep themcompanie. The master useth often to thrust out his hand to Lions; theykisse it. The keeper commandeth his tyger; the Ethiopian Playercommandeth his elephants to fall upon their knees, and to walke upon arope; so a wise-man is skilfull to subdue euil things. Dolour, pouertie, ignominie, prison, banishment, when they come unto him, aremade tame. 

V

OF A HAPPY LIFE[85]

All men, brother Gallio, wish to live happily, but are dull atperceiving exactly what it is that makes life happy: and so far is itfrom being easy to attain to happiness that the more eagerly a manstruggles to reach it the further he departs from it, if he takes thewrong road; for, since this leads in the opposite direction, his veryswiftness carries him all the further away. We must therefore firstdefine clearly what it is at which we aim: next we must consider bywhat path we may most speedily reach it, for on our journey itself, provided it be made in the right direction, we shall learn how muchprogress we have made each day, and how much nearer we are to the goaltoward which our natural desires urge us. But as long as we wander atrandom, not following any guide except the shouts and discordantclamors of those who invite us to proceed in different directions, ourshort life will be wasted in useless roamings, even if we labor bothday and night to get a good understanding. Let us not therefore decidewhither we must tend, and by what path, without the advice of someexperienced person who has explored the region which we are about toenter, because this journey is not subject to the same conditions asothers; for in them some distinctly understood track and inquiriesmade of the natives make it impossible for us to go wrong, but herethe most beaten and frequented tracks are those which lead us astray. Nothing, therefore, is more important than that we should not, likesheep, follow the flock that has gone before us, and thus proceed notwhither we ought, but whither the rest are going. .. . 

True wisdom consists in not departing from nature and in molding ourconduct according to her laws and model. A happy life, therefore, isone which is in accordance with its own nature, and can not be broughtabout unless in the first place the mind be sound and vigorous, enduring all things with most admirable courage suited to the times inwhich it lives, careful of the body and its appurtenances, yet nottroublesomely careful. It must also set due value upon all the thingswhich adorn our lives, without overestimating any one of them, andmust be able to enjoy the bounty of Fortune without becoming herslave. .. . 

A happy life consists in a mind which is free, upright, undaunted, andstedfast beyond the influence of fear or desire, which thinks nothinggood except honor, and nothing bad except shame, and regardseverything else as a mass of mean details which can neither addanything to nor take anything away from the happiness of life, butwhich come and go without either increasing or diminishing the highestgood? A man of these principles, whether he will or no, must beaccompanied by a continual cheerfulness, a high happiness, whichcomes indeed from on high because he delights in what he has, anddesires no greater pleasures than those which his home affords. Is henot right in allowing these to turn the scale against petty, ridiculous, and short-lived movements of his wretched body? on the dayon which he becomes proof against pleasure he also becomes proofagainst pain. See, on the other hand, how evil and guilty a slavery aman is forced to serve who is dominated in turn by pleasures andpains, those most untrustworthy and passionate of masters. We must, therefore, escape from them into freedom. This nothing will bestowupon us save contempt of Fortune; but if we attain to this, then therewill dawn upon us those invaluable blessings, the repose of a mindthat is at rest in a safe haven, its lofty imaginings, its great andsteady delight at casting out errors and learning to know the truth, its courtesy and its cheerfulness, in all of which we shall takedelight, not regarding them as good things, but as proceeding from theproper good of man. .. . 

Why do you put together two things which are unlike and evenincompatible one with another? virtue is a lofty quality, sublime, royal, unconquerable, untiring: pleasure is low, slavish, weakly, perishable; its haunts and homes are the brothel and the tavern. Youwill meet virtue in the temple, the market-place, the senate-house, manning the walls, covered with dust, sunburnt, horny-handed: you willfind pleasure skulking out of sight, seeking for shady nooks at thepublic baths, hot chambers, and places which dread the visits of theædile, soft, effeminate, reeking of wine and perfumes, pale orperhaps painted and made up with cosmetics. The highest good isimmortal: it knows no ending, and does not admit of either satiety orregret: for a right-thinking mind never alters or becomes hateful toitself, nor do the best things ever undergo any change: but pleasuredies at the very moment when it charms us most: it has no great scope, and therefore it soon cloys and wearies us, and fades away as soon asits first impulse is over: indeed, we can not depend upon anythingwhose nature is to change. Consequently, it is not even possible thatthere should be any solid substance in that which comes and goes soswiftly and which perishes by the very exercise of its own functions, for it arrives at a point at which it ceases to be, and even while itis beginning always keeps its end in view. .. . 

A man should be unbiassed and not to be conquered by external things:he ought to admire himself alone, to feel confidence in his ownspirit, and so to order his life as to be ready alike for good or badfortune. Let not his confidence be without knowledge, nor hisknowledge without stedfastness: let him always abide by what he hasonce determined, and let there be no erasure in his doctrine. It willbe understood, even tho I append it not, that such a man will betranquil and composed in his demeanor, high-minded and courteous inhis actions. Let reason be encouraged by the senses to seek for thetruth, and draw its first principles from thence: indeed it has noother base of operations or place from which to start in pursuit oftruth: it must fall back upon itself. Even the all-embracing universeand God who is its guide extends Himself forth into outward things, and yet altogether returns from all sides back to Himself. Let ourmind do the same thing: when, following its bodily senses, it has bymeans of them sent itself forth into the things of the outward world, let it remain still their master and its own. By this means we shallobtain a strength and an ability which are united and allied together;we shall derive from it that reason which never halts between twoopinions, nor is dull in forming its perceptions, beliefs, orconvictions. Such a mind, when it has ranged itself in order, made itsvarious parts agree together, and, if I may so express myself, harmonized them, has attained to the highest good: for it has nothingevil or hazardous remaining, nothing to shake it or make it stumble:it will do everything under the guidance of its own will, and nothingunexpected will befall it, but whatever may be done by it will turnout well, and that, too, readily and easily, without the doer havingrecourse to any underhand devices: for slow and hesitating purpose. You may, then, boldly declare that the highest good is singleness ofmind: for where agreement and unity are, there must the virtues be: itis the vices that are at war with one another. .. . 

It is the act of the generous spirit to proportion its efforts not toits own strength, but to that of human nature, to entertain loftyaims, and to conceive plans which are too vast to be carried intoexecution even by those who are endowed with gigantic intellects, whoappoint for themselves the following rules: "I will look upon death orupon a comedy with the same expression of countenance: I will submitto labors, however great they may be, supporting the strength of mybody by that of my mind: I will despise riches when I have them asmuch as when I have them not; if they be elsewhere I will not be moregloomy, if they sparkle around me I will not be more lively than Ishould otherwise be: whether Fortune comes or goes I will take nonotice of her: I will view all lands as tho they belonged to me, andmy own as tho they belonged to all mankind: I will so live as toremember that I was born for others, and will thank Nature on thisaccount: for in what fashion could she have done better for me? shehas given me alone to all, and all to me alone. Whatever I maypossess, I will neither hoard it greedily nor squander it recklessly. I will think that I have no possessions so real as those which I havegiven away to deserving people: I will not reckon benefits by theirmagnitude or number, or by anything except the value set upon them bythe receiver: I never will consider a gift to be a large one if it bebestowed upon a worthy object. I will do nothing because of publicopinion, but everything because of conscience: whenever I do anythingalone by myself I will believe that the eyes of the Roman people areupon me while I do it. In eating and drinking my object shall be toquench the desires of Nature, not to fill and empty my belly. I willbe agreeable with my friends, gentle and mild to my foes: I will grantpardon before I am asked for it, and will meet the wishes of honorablemen half-way. I will bear in mind that, the world is my native city, that its governors are the gods, and that they stand above and aroundme, criticizing whatever I do or say. Whenever either Nature demandsmy breath again, or reason bids me dismiss it, I will quit this life, calling all to witness that I have loved a good conscience, and goodpursuits; that no one's freedom, my own least of all, has beenimpaired through me. " He who sets up these as the rules of his lifewill soar aloft and strive to make his way to the gods: of a truth, even tho he fails, yet he

 "Fails in a high emprise. "

But you, who hate both virtue and those who practise it, do nothing atwhich we need be surprized, for sickly lights can not bear the sun, nocturnal creatures avoid the brightness of day, and at its firstdawning become bewildered and all betake themselves to their denstogether: creatures that fear the light hide themselves in crevices. So croak away, and exercise your miserable tongues in reproaching goodmen: open wide your jaws, bite hard: you will break many teeth beforeyou make any impression. .. . 

Where, indeed, can fortune invest riches more securely than in a placefrom whence they can always be recovered without any squabble withtheir trustee? Marcus Cato, when he was praising Curius andCoruncanius and that century in which the possession of a few smallsilver coins were an offense which was punished by the Censor, himselfowned four million sesterces; a less fortune, no doubt, than that ofCrassus, but larger than of Cato the Censor. If the amounts becompared, he had outstript his great-grandfather further than hehimself was outdone by Crassus, and if still greater riches hadfallen to his lot, he would not have spurned them, for the wise mandoes not think himself unworthy of any chance presents: he does notlove riches, but he prefers to have them; he does not receive theminto his spirit, but only into his house: nor does he cast away fromhim what he already possesses, but keeps them, and is willing that hisvirtue should receive a larger subject-matter for its exercise. .. . 

Cease, then, forbidding philosophers to possess money: no one hascondemned wisdom to poverty. The philosopher may own ample wealth, butwill not own wealth that which has been torn from another, or which isstained with another's blood: his must be obtained without wrongingany man, and without its being won by base means; it must be alikehonorably come by and honorably spent, and must be such as spite couldalone shake its head at. Raise it to whatever figure you please, itwill still be an honorable possession, if, while it includes muchwhich every man would like to call his own, there be nothing which anyone can say is his own. Such a man will not forfeit his right to thefavor of Fortune, and will neither boast of his inheritance nor blushfor it if it was honorably acquired; yet he will have something toboast of, if he throw his house open, let all his countrymen comeamong his property, and say, "If any one recognizes here anythingbelonging to him, let him take it. " What a great man, how excellentlyrich will he be, if after this speech he possesses as much as he hadbefore! I say, then, that if he can safely and confidently submit hisaccounts to the scrutiny of the people, and no one can find in themany item upon which he can lay hands, such a man may boldly andunconcealedly enjoy his riches. The wise man will not allow a singleill-won penny to cross his threshold; yet he will not refuse or closehis door against great riches, if they are the gift of fortune and theproduct of virtue: what reason has he for grudging them good quarters:let them come and be his guests: he will neither brag of them nor hidethem away: the one is the part of a silly, the other of a cowardly andpaltry spirit, which, as it were, muffles up a good thing in its lap. As he is capable of performing a journey upon his own feet, but yetwould prefer to mount a carriage, just so he will be capable of beingpoor, yet will wish to be rich; he will own wealth, but will view itas an uncertain possession which will some day fly away from him. Hewill not allow it to be a burden either to himself or to any one else:he will give it--why do you prick up your ears? why do you open yourpockets?--he will give it either to good men or to those whom it maymake into good men. He will give it after having taken the utmostpains to choose those who are fittest to receive it, as becomes onewho bears in mind that he ought to give an account of what he spendsas well as of what he receives. He will give for good and commendablereasons, for a gift ill bestowed counts as a shameful loss: he willhave an easily opened pocket, but not one with a hole in it, so thatmuch may be taken out of it, yet nothing may fall out of it. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 75: Seneca's influence on writers in his own day wasnotable. He seems almost to have superseded Cicero as a model. Criticsof our day, while recognizing all this and the charm of his style, have found in his philosophy a lack of sincere qualities. An oldquestion is that of his relations to Christianity. So much in hiswritings partakes of the spirit of the Apostles that he has beencredited with having been influenced by them. It is known that hisbrother Gallio met St. Paul in Corinth and that Burrus, the colleagueand intimate friend of Seneca, was the captain of the Prætorian guardsbefore whom St. Paul was brought in Rome. Cruttwell dismisses theclaim, believing that Seneca's philosophy was "the natural developmentof the thoughts of his predecessors in a mind at once capacious andsmitten with the love of virtue. " Philosophy to Seneca was "altogethera question of practise. " Like other thinkers of his day, "he carednothing for consistency of opinion, everything for impressiveness ofapplication. "]

[Footnote 76: From Book II of the "Minor Essays. " Translated by AubreyStewart. ]

[Footnote 77: Quintilius Fabius, the general, who before the battle ofCannæ commanded in Italy against Hannibal. He was famous for avoidingpitched battles and hence the term "Fabian policy. "]

[Footnote 78: From Book VI of the "Minor Essays. " Translated by AubreyStewart. Marcia, to whom this letter was addrest, was "a respectableand opulent lady, " the daughter of Cremutius Cordus. ]

[Footnote 79: Made Consul with Julius Cæsar in 59 B. C. He representedthe aristocratic party and bitterly opposed some of the measures ofCæsar. In the war with Pompey he joined his forces to those ofPompey. ]

[Footnote 80: A legendary maiden delivered as hostage to Lars Porsenaof Clusium, but who escaped by swimming across the Tiber. ]

[Footnote 81: Marcus Livius Drusus was a politician, who in 91 B. C. Became tribune of the plebs. He was about to bring forward a proposalgiving citizenship to the Italians when he was assassinated, an eventwhich precipitated the Social War. ]

[Footnote 82: From the "Minor Essays. " Translated by Aubrey Stewart. "This, " says Alexander Thomson, the eighteenth-century translator ofSuetonius, "appears to have been written in the beginning of the reignof Nero, on whom the author bestows some high encomiums which at thattime seem not to have been destitute of foundation. "]

[Footnote 83: Burrus in 52 A. D. Had been made sole Prætorian Præfectby Claudius and, conjointly with Seneca, was entrusted with theeducation of Nero. It was his influence with the Prætorian Guards thatsecured to Nero in 54 the independent succession. He was put to deathby poison, under orders from Nero, who had been offended by theseverity of his moral conduct. ]

[Footnote 84: From Epistle 85. Translated by Thomas Lodge. Printedhere with the spelling and punctuation of the first edition (1613). ]

[Footnote 85: From Book VII of the "Minor Essays. " Translated byAubrey Stewart. This essay addrest to Gallio, Seneca is thought tohave intended "as a vindication of himself against those whocalumniated him on account of his riches and manner of living. "]

PLINY THE ELDER

 Born in Como, in 23 A. D. ; perished in the eruption of Vesuvius in 79; celebrated as naturalist; commanded cavalry in Germany at the age of twenty-three; procurator in Spain under Nero; wrote voluminously on military tactics, history, grammar and natural science; his death due to his efforts to observe more closely the eruption; of all his writings only his "Natural History" in thirty-seven books has survived. 

I

THE QUALITIES OF THE DOG[86]

Among the animals that are domesticated with mankind there are manycircumstances that are deserving of being known: among these there aremore particularly that most faithful friend of man, the dog, and thehorse. We have an account of a dog that fought against a band ofrobbers in defending its master; and altho it was pierced with wounds, still it would not leave the body, from which it drove away all birdsand beasts. Another dog, in Epirus, recognized the murderer of itsmaster in the midst of an assemblage of people, and, by biting andbarking at him, extorted from him a confession of his crime. A king ofthe Garamantes, [87] also, was brought back from exile by two hundreddogs, which maintained the combat against all his opponents. Thepeople of Colophon[88] and Castabala[89] kept troops of dogs for thepurposes of war; and these used to fight in the front rank and neverretreat; they were the most faithful of auxiliaries, and yet requiredno pay. After the defeat of the Cimbri[90] their dogs defended theirmovable houses, which were carried upon wagons. Jason, the Lycian, having been slain, his dog refused to take food, and died of famine. Adog, to which Darius gives the name of Hyrcanus, upon the funeral pileof King Lysimachus being lighted, threw itself into the flames; andthe dog of King Hiero[91] did the same. Philistus also gives a similaraccount of Pyrrhus, the dog of the tyrant Gelon; and it is said also, that the dog of Nicomedes, King of Bithynia[92], tore Consingis, thewife of that king, in consequence of her wanton behavior, when toyingwith her husband. 

Dogs are the only animals that are sure to know their masters, and ifthey suddenly meet him as a stranger, they will instantly recognizehim. They are the only animals that will answer to their names, andrecognize the voices of the family. They recollect a road along whichthey have passed, however long it may be. Next to man there is noliving creature whose memory is so retentive. By sitting down on theground we may arrest their most impetuous attack, even when promptedby the most violent rage. 

In daily life, we have discovered many other valuable qualities inthis animal; but its intelligence and sagacity are more especiallyshown in the chase. It discovers and traces out the tracks of theanimal, leading by the leash the sportsman who accompanies it straightup to the prey; and as soon as ever it has perceived it, how silent itis, and how secret but significant is the indication which it gives, first by the tail and afterward by the nose!

When Alexander the Great was on his Indian expedition, he waspresented by the King of Albania with a dog of unusual size; beinggreatly delighted with its noble appearance, he ordered bears, andafter them wild boars, and then deer, to be let loose before it; butthe dog lay down and regarded them with a kind of immovable contempt. The noble spirit of the general became irritated by the sluggishnessthus manifested by an animal of such vast bulk, and he ordered it tobe killed. The report of this reached the king, who accordingly sentanother dog, and at the same time sent word that its powers were to betried, not upon small animals, but upon the lion or the elephant;adding, that he had originally but two, and that if this one were putto death, the race would be extinct. Alexander, without delay, procured a lion, which in his presence was instantly torn to pieces. He then ordered an elephant to be brought, and never was he moredelighted with any spectacle; for the dog, bristling up its hair allover the body, began by thundering forth a loud barking, and thenattacked the animal, leaping at it first on the one side and then onthe other, attacking it in the most skilful manner, and then againretreating at the opportune moment, until at last the elephant, beingrendered quite giddy by turning round and round, fell to the earth, and made it quite reecho with its fall. 

II

THREE GREAT ARTISTS OF GREECE[93]

Apelles, [94] of Cos, surpassed all the other painters who eitherpreceded or succeeded him. Single-handed, he contributed more topainting than all the others together, and even went so far as topublish some treatises on the principles of the art. The great pointof artistic merit with him was his singular charm of gracefulness, andthis too, tho the greatest of painters were his contemporaries. Inadmiring their works and bestowing high eulogiums upon them, he usedto say that there was still wanting in them that equal of beauty sopeculiar to himself, and known to the Greeks as "Charis"; others, hesaid, had acquired all the other requisites of perfection, but inthis one point he himself had no equal. He also asserted his claim toanother great point of merit; admiring a picture by Protogenes, whichbore evident marks of unbounded laboriousness and the most minutefinish, he remarked that in every respect Protogenes was fully hisequal, or perhaps his superior, except in this, that he himself knewwhen to take his hand off a picture--a memorable lesson, which teachesus that over-carefulness may be productive of bad results. His candor, too, was equal to his talent; he acknowledged the superiority ofMelanthius[95] in his grouping, and of Asclepiodorus in the nicenessof his measurements, or in other words, the distances that ought to beleft between the objects represented. 

A circumstance that happened to him in connection with Protogenes[96]is worthy of notice. The latter was living at Rhodes, when Apellesdisembarked there, desirous of seeing the works of a man whom he hadhitherto only known by reputation. Accordingly, he repaired at once tothe studio; Protogenes was not at home, but there happened to be alarge panel upon the easel ready for painting, with an old woman whowas left in charge. To his inquiries she made answer that Protogeneswas not at home; and then asked whom she should name as the visitor. "Here he is, " was the reply of Apelles; and seizing a brush, he tracedwith color upon the panel an outline of a singularly minute fineness. Upon his return the old woman mentioned to Protogenes what hadhappened. The artist, it is said, upon remarking the delicacy of thetouch, instantly exclaimed that Apelles must have been the visitor, for that no other person was capable of executing anything soexquisitely perfect. So saying, he traced within the same outline astill finer outline, but with another color; and then took hisdeparture, with instructions to the woman to show it to the strangerif he returned, and to let him know that this was the person whom hehad come to see. 

It happened as he anticipated--Apelles returned; and vexed at findinghimself thus surpassed, he took up another color and split both of theoutlines, leaving no possibility of anything finer being executed. Upon seeing this, Protogenes admitted that he was defeated, and atonce flew to the harbor to look for his guest. He thought proper, too, to transmit the panel to posterity, just as it was; and it alwayscontinued to be held in the highest admiration by all--artists inparticular. I am told that it was burned in the first fire which tookplace at Cæsar's palace on the Palatine Hill; but in former times Ihave often stopt to admire it. Upon its vast surface it containednothing whatever except the three outlines, so remarkably fine as toescape the sight: among the most elaborate works of numerous otherartists it had all the appearance of a blank space; and yet by thatvery fact it attracted the notice of every one, and was held in higherestimation than any other painting there. 

It was a custom with Apelles, to which he most tenaciously adhered, never to let any day pass, however busy he might be, withoutexercising himself by tracing some outline or other; a practise whichhas now passed into a proverb. It was also a practise with him, whenhe had completed a work, to exhibit it to the view of the passers-byin some exposed place; while he himself, concealed behind the picture, would listen to the criticisms that were passed upon it: it being hisopinion that the judgment of the public was preferable to his own, asbeing the more discerning of the two. It was under thesecircumstances, they say, that he was censured by a shoemaker forhaving represented the shoes with one shoe-string too little. The nextday, the shoemaker, quite proud at seeing the former error corrected, thanks to his advice, began to criticize the leg; upon which Apelles, full of indignation, popped his head out, and reminded him that ashoemaker should give no opinion beyond the shoes--a piece of advicewhich has equally passed into a proverbial saying. In fact, Apelleswas a person of great amenity of manners--a circumstance whichrendered him particularly agreeable to Alexander the Great, who wouldoften come to his studio. He had forbidden himself by public edict, asalready stated, to be represented by any other artist. On oneoccasion, however, when the prince was in his studio, talking a greatdeal about painting without knowing anything about it, Apelles quietlybegged that he would quit the subject, telling him that he would getlaughed at by the boys who were there grinding the colors; so greatwas the influence which he rightfully possest over a monarch who wasotherwise of an irascible temperament. And yet, irascible as he was, Alexander conferred upon him a very signal mark of the high estimationin which he held him: for having, in his admiration of herextraordinary beauty, engaged Apelles to paint Pancaste undraped--themost beloved of all his concubines--the artist while so engaged fellin love with her; upon which, Alexander, perceiving this to be theease, made him a present of her: thus showing himself, tho a greatking in courage, a still greater one in self-command--this actionredounding no less to his honor than any of his victories. 

Superior to all the statues not only of Praxiteles, [97] but of anyother artist that ever existed, is his Cnidian Venus; for theinspection of which, many persons before now have purposely undertakena voyage to Cnidos. The artist made two statues of the goddess, andoffered them both for sale: one of them was represented with drapery, and for this reason was preferred by the people of Cos, who had thechoice; the second was offered them at the same price, but on thegrounds of propriety and modesty they thought fit to choose the other. Upon this, the Cnidians purchased the rejected statue, and immenselysuperior has it always been held in general estimation. At a laterperiod, King Nicomedes wished to purchase this statue of the Cnidians, and made them an offer to pay off the whole of their public debt, which was very large. They preferred, however, to submit to anyextremity rather than part with it; and with good reason, for by thisstatue Praxiteles has perpetuated the glory of Cnidos. The littletemple in which it is placed is open on all sides, so that thebeauties of the statue admit of being seen from every point ofview--an arrangement which was favored by the goddess herself, it isgenerally believed. 

Among all nations which the fame of the Olympian Jupiter has reached, Phidias[98] is looked upon, beyond all doubt, as the most famous ofartists; but to let those who have never seen his works know howdeservedly he is esteemed, we will take this opportunity of adducing afew slight proofs of the genius which he displayed. In doing this weshall not appeal to the beauty of his Olympian Jupiter, nor yet to thevast proportions of his Athenian Minerva, six-and-twenty cubits inheight, and composed of ivory and gold: but it is to the shield ofthis last statue that we shall draw attention; upon the convex face ofwhich he has chased a combat of the Amazons, while upon the concaveside of it he has represented the battle between the gods and thegiants. Upon the sandals, again, we see the wars of the Lapithæ andCentaurs; so careful has he been to fill every smallest portion of hiswork with some proof or other of his artistic skill. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 86: From the "Natural History. " Translated by John Bostockand H. T. Riley. ]

[Footnote 87: A name applied to tribes living in Africa east of thedesert of Sahara. ]

[Footnote 88: An Ionian city of Asia, distant seventy miles fromEphesus. ]

[Footnote 89: An interior town of Cilicia, in Asia Minor. ]

[Footnote 90: The home of this warlike people appears to have beenJutland. ]

[Footnote 91: The tyrant king of Syracuse, successor to Gelon. ]

[Footnote 92: A country of Asia Minor occupying a part of the BlackSea coast. ]

[Footnote 93: From the "Natural History. " Translated by John Bostockand H. T. Riley. ]

[Footnote 94: Apelles lived in the time of Philip and Alexander theGreat. Cos is an island in the Ægean Sea. ]

[Footnote 95: A painter of the Sicyonian school who flourished in thethird century B. C. ]

[Footnote 96: Protogenes, a native of Caria, in Asia Minor, wascelebrated as a painter at Rhodes in the second half of the fourthcentury B. C. ]

[Footnote 97: Praxiteles was born in Athena about the end of the fifthcentury and continued active as an artist until the time at Alexanderthe Great. Nearly sixty of his works are mentioned in ancientwritings, but only two have been identified in modern times. ]

[Footnote 98: Phidias was born in Athens about 500 B. C. And died about430. ]

QUINTILIAN

 Born in Spain about 35 A. D. ; died about 95; celebrated as rhetorian; educated in Rome, where he taught oratory for twenty years; patronized by the emperors Vespasian and Domitian; his most celebrated work the "Institutio Oratoria. "[99]

THE ORATOR MUST BE A GOOD MAN[100]

Let the orator, then, whom I propose to form, be such a one as ischaracterized by the definition of Marcus Cato, _a good man skilled inspeaking_. 

But the requisite which Cato has placed first in this definition, thatan orator should be _a good man_, is naturally of more estimation andimportance than the other. It is of importance that an orator shouldbe good, because, should the power of speaking be a support to evil, nothing would be more pernicious than eloquence alike to publicconcerns and private, and I myself, who, as far as is in my power, strive to contribute something to the faculty of the orator, shoulddeserve very ill of the world, since I should furnish arms, not forsoldiers, but for robbers. May I not draw an argument from thecondition of mankind? Nature herself, in bestowing on man that whichshe seems to have granted him preeminently, and by which she appearsto have distinguished us from all other animals, would have acted, notas a parent, but as a stepmother, if she had designed the faculty ofspeech to be the promoter of crime, the oppressor of innocence, andthe enemy of truth; for it would have been better for us to have beenborn dumb, and to have been left destitute of reasoning powers, thanto have received endowments from providence only to turn them to thedestruction of one another. 

My judgment carries me still further; for I not only say that he whowould answer my idea of an orator must be a good man, but that no man, unless he be good, can ever be an orator. To an orator discernment andprudence are necessary; but we can certainly not allow discernment tothose, who when the ways of virtue and vice are set before them, prefer to follow that of vice; nor can we allow them prudence, sincethey subject themselves, by the unforeseen consequences of theiractions, often to the heaviest penalty of the law, and always to thatof an evil conscience. But if it be not only truly said by the wise, but always justly believed by the vulgar, that no man is vicious whois not also foolish, a fool, assuredly, will never become an orator. 

It is to be further considered that the mind can not be in a conditionfor pursuing the most noble of studies, unless it be entirely freefrom vice; not only because there can be no communion of good and evilin the same breast, and to meditate at once on the best things and theworst is no more in the power of the same mind than it is possiblefor the same man to be at once virtuous and vicious; but also becausea mind intent on so arduous a study should be exempt from all othercares, even such as are unconnected with vice; for then, and thenonly, when it is free and master of itself, and when no other objectharasses and distracts its attention, will it be able to keep in viewthe end to which it is devoted. But if an inordinate attention to anestate, a too anxious pursuit of wealth, indulgence in the pleasuresof the chase, and the devotion of our days to public spectacles, robour studies of much of our time (for whatever time is given to onething is lost to another), what effect must we suppose that ambition, avarice, and envy will produce, whose excitements are so violent aseven to disturb our sleep and our dreams? Nothing indeed is sopreoccupied, so unsettled, so torn and lacerated with such numerousand various passions, as a bad mind; for when it intends evil, it isagitated with hope, care, and anxiety, and when it has attained theobject of its wickedness, it is tormented with uneasiness, and thedread of every kind of punishment. 

No man, certainly, will doubt, that it is the object of all oratory, that what is stated to the judge may appear to him to be true andjust; and which of the two, let me ask, will produce such a convictionwith the greater ease, the good man or the bad? A good man, doubtless, will speak of what is true and honest with greater frequency; but evenif, from being influenced by some call of duty, he endeavors tosupport what is fallacious (a case which, as I shall show, maysometimes occur), he must still be heard with greater credit than abad man. But with bad men, on the other hand, dissimulation sometimesfails, as well through their contempt for the opinion of mankind, asthrough their ignorance of what is right; hence they assert withoutmodesty, and maintain their assertions without shame; and, inattempting what evidently can not be accomplished, there appears inthem a repulsive obstinacy and useless perseverance; for bad men, aswell in their pleadings as in their lives, entertain dishonestexpectations; and it often happens, that even when they speak thetruth, belief is not accorded them, and the employment of advocates ofsuch a character is regarded as a proof of the badness of a cause. 

I must, however, notice those objections to my opinion, which appearto be clamored forth, as it were, by the general consent of themultitude. Was not then Demosthenes, they ask, a great orator? yet wehave heard that he was not a good man. Was not Cicero a great orator?yet many have thrown censure upon his character. To such questions howshall I answer? Great displeasure is likely to be shown at any replywhatever; and the ears of my audience require first to be propitiated. The character of Demosthenes, let me say, does not appear to medeserving of such severe reprehension, that I should believe all thecalumnies that are heaped upon him by his enemies, especially when Iread his excellent plans for the benefit of his country and thehonorable termination of his life. Nor do I see that the feeling of anupright citizen was, in any respect, wanting to Cicero. As proofs ofhis integrity, may be mentioned his consulship, in which he conductedhimself with so much honor, his honorable administration of hisprovince; his refusal to be one of the twenty commissioners; and, during the civil wars, which fell with great severity on his times, his uprightness of mind, which was never swayed, either by hope or byfear, from adhering to the better party, or the supporters of thecommonwealth. He is thought by some to have been deficient in courage, but he has given an excellent reply to this charge, when he says thathe was timid, not in encountering dangers, but in taking precautionsagainst them; an assertion of which he proved the truth at his death, to which he submitted with the noblest fortitude. But even should theheight of virtue have been wanting to these eminent men, I shall replyto those who ask me whether they were orators as the Stoics reply whenthey are asked whether Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus were wise men;they say that they were great and deserving of veneration, but thatthey did not attain the highest excellence of which human nature issusceptible. 

Pythagoras desired to be called, not wise, like those who precededhim, but a lover of wisdom. I, however, in speaking of Cicero, haveoften said, according to the common mode of speech, and shall continueto say, that he was a perfect orator, as we term our friends, inordinary discourse, good and prudent men, tho such epithets can bejustly given only to the perfectly wise. But when I have to speakprecisely, and in conformity with the exactness of truth, I shallexpress myself as longing to see such an orator as he himself alsolonged to see; for tho I acknowledge that Cicero stood at the head ofeloquence, and that I can scarcely find a passage in his speeches towhich anything can be added, however many I might find which I mayimagine that he would have pruned (for the learned have in generalbeen of opinion that he had numerous excellences and some faults, andhe himself says that he had cut off most of his juvenile exuberance), yet, since he did not claim to himself, tho he had no mean opinion ofhis merits, the praise of perfection, and since he might certainlyhave spoken better if a longer life had been granted him, and a moretranquil season for composition, I may not unreasonably believe thatthe summit of excellence was not attained by him, to which, notwithstanding, no man made nearer approaches. If I had thoughtotherwise, I might have maintained my opinion with still greaterdetermination and freedom. Did Marcus Antonius declare that he hadseen no man truly eloquent, tho to be eloquent is much less than to bea perfect orator; does Cicero himself say that he is still seeking foran orator, and merely conceives and imagines one; and shall I fear tosay that in that portion of eternity which is yet to come somethingmay arise still more excellent than what has yet been seen? I take noadvantage of the opinion of those who refuse to allow great merit toCicero and Demosthenes even in eloquence; tho Demosthenes, indeed, does not appear sufficiently near perfection even to Cicero himself, who says that he sometimes nods; nor does Cicero appear so to Brutusand Calvus, who certainly find fault with his language. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 99: Quintilian is notable as a writer who was not influencedby his great contemporary Seneca, whom he disliked and harshlycriticized for literary defects. Quintilian modeled his own style onthat of Cicero, altho at times he dropt back unconsciously into thatof Seneca. ]

[Footnote 100: From Book XII, Chapter I, of the "Institutes ofOratory. " Translated by J. S. Watson. ]

TACITUS

 Born about 55 A. D. ; died about 117; celebrated as historian and orator; prætor in 88; Consul in 97; a friend of the younger Pliny; son-in-law of Agricola; his extant works include a dialog of oratory, a biography of Agricola, "Germania, " a history of Rome from Galba to Domitian, and his "Annals, " which are a history of the Julian dynasty. [101]

I

FROM REPUBLICAN TO IMPERIAL ROME[102]

Kings held dominion in the city of Rome from its foundation: LuciusBrutus instituted liberty and the consulate. Dictatorships wereresorted to in temporary emergencies: neither the power of thedecemvirs continued in force beyond two years, nor the consularauthority of the military tribunes for any length of time. Thedomination of Cinna did not continue long, nor that of Sulla: theinfluence of Pompey and Crassus quickly merged in Cæsar: the arms ofLepidus and Antony in Augustus, who, with the title of prince, tookunder his command the commonwealth, exhausted with civil dissensions. But the affairs of the ancient Roman people, whether prosperous oradverse, have been recorded by writers of renown. Nor were therewanting authors of distinguished genius to have composed the historyof the times of Augustus, till by the spirit of flattery, which becameprevalent, they were deterred. As to Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, andNero, whilst they yet reigned the histories of their times werefalsified through fear; and after they had fallen, they were writtenunder the influence of recent detestation. Thence my own design ofrecounting a few incidents respecting Augustus, and those toward thelatter part of his life; and, after that, of giving a history of thereign of Tiberius and the rest; uninfluenced by resentment andpartiality, as I stand aloof from the causes of them. 

When, after the fall of Brutus and Cassius, there remained none tofight for the commonwealth; when Sextus Pompeius was utterly defeatedat Sicily; and Lepidus being deprived of his command, and Mark Antonyslain, there remained no leader even to the Julian party but Octavius;having put off the name of triumvir, styling himself Consul, andpretending that all he aimed at was the jurisdiction attached to thetribuneship for the protection of the commons; when he had cajoled thesoldiery by donations, the people by distribution of corn, and men ingeneral by the charms of peace, he (Octavius) began by gradations toexalt himself over them; to draw to himself the functions of thesenate and of the magistrate, and the framing of the laws; in whichhe was thwarted by no man: the boldest spirits having fallen in someor other of the regular battles, or by proscription; and the survivingnobility being distinguished by wealth and public honors, according tothe measure of their promptness to bondage; and as these innovationshad been the cause of aggrandizement to them, preferring the presentstate of things with safety to the revival of ancient liberty withpersonal peril. Neither were the provinces averse to that condition ofaffairs; since they mistrusted the government of the senate andpeople, on account of the contentions among the great and the avariceof the magistrates: while the protection of the laws was enfeebled andborne down by violence, intrigue, and bribery. 

Moreover, Augustus, as supports to his domination, raised his sister'sson, Claudius Marcellus, [103] a mere youth, to the dignity of pontiffand curule ædile; aggrandized by two successive consulships MarcusAgrippa, [104] a man meanly born, but an accomplished soldier, and thecompanion of his victories; and soon, on the death of Marcellus, chosehim for his son-in-law. The sons of his wife, Tiberius Nero andClaudius Drusus, he dignified with the title of Imperator, tho therehad been no diminution in the members of his house. For into thefamily of the Cæsars he had already adopted Lucius and Caius, the sonsof Agrippa; and tho they had not yet laid aside the puerile garment, vehement had been his ambition to see them declared princes of theRoman youth, and even designed to the consulship; while he affected todecline the honors for them. Upon the decease of Agrippa, they werecut off, either by a death premature but natural, or by the arts oftheir stepmother Livia; Lucius on his journey to the armies in Spain, Caius on his return from Armenia, ill of a wound: and as Drusus hadbeen long since dead, Tiberius Nero was the only survivor of hisstepsons. On him every honor was accumulated (to that quarter allthings inclined); he was by Augustus adopted for his son, assumedcolleague in the empire, partner in the tribunitian authority, andpresented to the several armies; not from the secret machinations ofhis mother, as heretofore, but at her open suit For over Augustus, nowvery aged, she had obtained such absolute sway, that he banished intothe isle of Planasia his only surviving grandson, Agrippa Posthumus; aperson destitute indeed of liberal accomplishments, and a man ofclownish brutality with great bodily strength, but convicted of noheinous offense. The emperor, strange to say, set Germanicus, the sonof Drusus, over eight legions quartered upon the Rhine, and orderedthat he should be engrafted into his family by Tiberius by adoption, tho Tiberius had then a son of his own on the verge of manhood; butthe object was that he might stand firm by having many to support andprotect him. War at that time there remained none, except that inGermany, kept on foot rather to blot out the disgrace sustained by theloss of Quintilius Varus, with his army, than from any ambition toenlarge the empire, or for any advantage worth contending for. Inprofound tranquillity were affairs at Rome. The magistrates retainedtheir wonted names; of the Romans, the younger sort had been bornsince the battle of Actium, and even most of the old during the civilwars: how few were then living who had seen the ancient free state!

The character of the government thus totally changed; no traces wereto be found of the spirit of ancient institutions. The system by whichevery citizen shared in the government being thrown aside, all menregarded the orders of the prince as the only rule of conduct andobedience; nor felt they any anxiety for the present, while Augustus, yet in the vigor of life, maintained the credit of himself and house, and the peace of the state. But when old age had crept over him, andhe was sinking under bodily infirmities--when his end was at hand, andthence a new source of hopes and views was presented--some few therewere who began to talk idly about the blessings of liberty: manydreaded a civil war--others longed for one; while far the greatestpart were occupied in circulating various surmises reflecting uponthose who seemed likely to be their masters: "That Agrippa wasnaturally stern and savage, and exasperated by contumely; and neitherin age nor experience equal to a task of such magnitude. Tiberius, indeed, had arrived at fulness of years, and was a distinguishedcaptain, but possest the inveterate and inherent pride of theClaudian family; and many indications of cruel nature escaped him, inspite of all his arts to disguise it; that even from his early infancyhe had been trained up in an imperial house; that consulships andtriumphs had been accumulated upon him while but a youth. Not evenduring the years of his abode at Rhodes, where under the plausiblename of retirement, he was in fact an exile, did he employ himselfotherwise than in meditating future vengeance, studying the arts ofsimulation, and practising secret and abominable sensualities. That tothese considerations was added that of his mother, a woman with theungovernable spirit peculiar to her sex; that the Romans must be underbondage to a woman, and moreover to two youths, who would meanwhileoppress the state, and, at one time or other, rend it piecemeal. "

While the public mind was agitated by these and similar discussions, the illness of Augustus grew daily more serious, and some suspectednefarious practises on the part of his wife. For some months before, arumor had gone abroad that Augustus, having singled out a few to whomhe communicated his purpose, had taken Fabius Maximus for his onlycompanion, had sailed over to the island of Planasia, to visitAgrippa; that many tears were shed on both sides, many tokens ofmutual tenderness shown, and hopes from thence conceived that theyouth would be restored to the household gods of his grandfather. ThatMaximus had disclosed this to Martia, his wife--she to Livia; and thatthe emperor was informed of it: and that Maximus, not long after, dying (it is doubtful whether naturally or by means sought for thepurpose), Martia was observed, in her lamentations at his funeral, toupbraid herself as the cause of her husband's destruction. Howsoeverthat matter might have been, Tiberius was scarce entered Illyrium whenhe was summoned by a letter from his mother, forwarded with speed, noris it fully known whether, at his return to Nola, [105] he foundAugustus yet breathing, or already lifeless. For Livia had carefullybeset the palace, and all the avenues to it, with vigilant guards; andfavorable bulletins were from time to time given out, until, theprovisions which the conjuncture required being completed, in one andthe same moment were published the departure of Augustus, and theaccession of Tiberius. 

II

THE FUNERAL OF GERMANICUS[106]

(19 A. D. )

Agrippina, [107] continuing her course without the least intermissionthrough all the perils and rigors of a sea-voyage in the winter, arrived at the island Corcyra, situated over against the shores ofCalabria. Unable to moderate her grief, and impatient frominexperience of affliction, she spent a few days there to tranquillizeher troubled spirit; when, on hearing of her arrival, all the intimatefriends of her family, and most of the officers who had served underGermanicus, with a number of strangers from the neighboring municipaltowns, some thinking it due as a mark of respect to the prince, butthe greater part carried along with the current, rushed to the city ofBrundusium, the readiest port in her way, and the safest landing. Assoon as the fleet appeared in the deep, instantly were filled, not theport alone and adjacent parts of the sea, but the walls and roofs, andwherever the most distant prospect could be obtained, with a sorrowingmultitude, earnestly asking each other "whether they should receiveher on landing in silence, or with some expression of feeling?" Norwas it clearly determined what course would be most suitable to theoccasion, when the fleet came slowly in, not as usual in sprightlytrim, but all wearing the impress of sadness. When she descended fromthe ship, accompanied by her two infants, [108] and bearing in her handthe funeral urn, her eyes fixt stedfastly upon the earth, onesimultaneous groan burst from the whole assemblage; nor could youdistinguish relations from strangers, nor the wailings of men fromthose of women; nor could any difference be discerned, except thatthose who came to meet her, in the vehemence of recent grief, surpassed the attendants of Agrippina, who were exhausted withcontinued mourning. 

Tiberius had dispatched two prætorian cohorts, with directions thatthe magistrates of Calabria, with Apulians and Campanians, should paytheir last offices of respect to the memory of his son; upon theshoulders, therefore, of the tribunes and centurions his ashes wereborne; before them were carried the ensigns unadorned, and the fascesreversed. As they passed through the colonies, the populace in black, the knights in their purple robes, burned precious raiment, perfumes, and whatever else is used in funeral solemnities, according to theability of the place; even they whose cities lay remote from theroute, came forth, offered victims, and erected altars to the gods ofthe departed, and with tears and ejaculations testified their sorrow. Drusus came as far as Terracina, with Claudius the brother ofGermanicus, and those of his children who had been left at Rome. [109]The Consuls, Marcus Valerius and Marcus Aurelius[110] (for they hadnow entered upon their office), the senate, and great part of thepeople, filled the road--a scattered procession, each walking andexpressing his grief as inclination led him; in sooth, flattery was anutter stranger here, for all knew how real was the joy, how hollow thegrief, of Tiberius for the death of Germanicus. 

Tiberius and Livia[111] avoided appearing abroad--public lamentationthey thought below their dignity--or perhaps they apprehended that iftheir countenances were examined by all eyes their hypocrisy would bedetected. That Antonia, mother to the deceased, bore any part in thefuneral, I do not find either in the historians or in the journals, tho, besides Agrippina and Drusus, and Claudius, his other relationsare likewise there recorded by name; whether by sickness she wasprevented, or whether her soul, vanquished by sorrow, could not bearto go through the representation of such an over-powering calamity. Iwould rather believe her constrained by Tiberius and Livia, who leftnot the palace, that they might seem to grieve alike and that thegrandmother and uncle might appear to have followed her example instaying at home. 

The day on which his remains were deposited in the tomb of Augustus, at one time exhibited the silence of perfect desolation; at another, the uproar of vociferous lamentation; the streets of the city werecrowded, one general blaze of torches glared throughout the CampusMartius; there the soldiers under arms, the magistrates without theinsignia of office, and the people ranged according to their tribes, passionately exclaimed, "that the commonwealth was utterly lost, thathenceforth there remained no hope, " so openly and so boldly that youwould have believed they had forgotten those who ruled over them. Butnothing pierced Tiberius more deeply than the warm interest excitedin favor of Agrippina, while they gave her such titles as "theornament of her country, the only blood of Augustus, an unparalleledexample of primitive virtue"; and, looking up to heaven and the gods, they implored "the preservation of her issue, and that they mightoutlive their oppressors. "

There were those who missed the pomp of a public funeral, and comparedwith this the superior honors and magnificence displayed by Augustusin that of Drusus, the father of Germanicus; observing, "that hehimself had traveled, in the depth of winter, as far as Ticinus, and, continuing by the corpse, had with it entered the city; around hisbier were crowded the images of the Claudii and Julii; he was mournedin the forum; his encomium pronounced on the rostra; all the honorsinvented by our ancestors, or added by their posterity, were heapedupon him. But to Germanicus were denied the ordinary solemnities, andsuch as were due to every distinguished Roman. Certainly his corpsewas burned in a foreign country because of the long journey, in such amanner as it was, but afterward it was but just to have compensatedthe scantiness of the first ceremony by the increased solemnity of thelast; his brother met him but one day's journey, his uncle not, evenat the gate. Where were those observances of the ancients, theeffigies of the dead laid in state on a bed, hymns composed in memoryof departed virtue, with encomiums and tears? Where at least theceremonial of sorrow?"

All this was known to Tiberius, and to suppress the reflections of thepopulace, he admonished them in an edict, "that many illustriousRomans had died for the commonwealth, but none so universally andvehemently regretted; and that it was to the honor of himself and allothers, if bounds were observed. The same things which became privatefamilies and small states, became not princes and an imperial people;that it was not unseemly to lament in the first transport of sorrow, nay, relief was afforded by weeping, but it was now time to recoverand compose their minds. Thus the deified Julius, upon the loss of anonly daughter;[112] thus the deified Augustus, upon the prematuredeath of his grandsons, had both concealed their sorrow. More ancientexamples were unnecessary; how often had the Roman people sustainedwith equanimity the slaughter of their armies, the death of theirgenerals, and entire destruction of illustrious families--princes weremortal, the commonwealth was eternal--they should therefore resumetheir customary vocations. " And because the spectacle of theMegalesian games was at hand, he added, "that they should even layaside their grief for amusements. "

The vacation ended, public affairs were resumed; Drusus departed forthe army in Illyricum, the minds of all men impatiently looking forvengeance upon Piso; and amidst many complaints, that while he wasroaming at large through the delightful regions of Asia and Greece, hewas undermining by contemptuous and artful delay the evidences of hiscrimes; for it was generally known that Martina, that notorioustrafficker in sorceries, and sent, as I have above related, by CneiusSentius to Rome, had died suddenly at Brundusium; that poison layconcealed in a knot of her hair. 

III

THE DEATH OF SENECA[113]

(65 A. D. )

The next death added by Nero was that of Plautius Lateranus, consulelect; and with such precipitation, that he would not allow him toembrace his children, nor the usual brief interval to choose his modeof death. He was dragged to the place allotted for the execution ofslaves, and there, by the hand of Statius the tribune, slaughtered. Inhis death he maintained the most invincible silence, not charging hisexecutioner with participation in the design for which he suffered. The destruction of Seneca followed, to the infinite joy of the prince;not because he had ascertained that he was a party to the conspiracy, but that he might assail him with the sword, since poison had failed:for Natalis only had named him; and his disclosure amounted but tothis, "that he had been sent by Piso[114] to visit Seneca, thenindisposed, to complain that he was refused admittance; and torepresent, that it would be better if they maintained their friendshipby intercourse: that to this Seneca replied, that talking to eachother and frequent interviews were to the service of neither; but uponthe safety of Piso his own security rested. " Granius Silvanus, tribuneof a pretorian cohort, was ordered to represent this to Seneca, and todemand of him, "whether he admitted the words of Natalis, and his ownanswers. " Seneca had that very day, either from chance or design, returned from Campania, and rested at a villa of his, four miles fromRome: thither arrived the tribune toward evening, and beset the villawith his men; and then, as he sat at table with Pauline his wife, andtwo friends, delivered his orders from the emperor. 

Seneca replied, "that Natalis had in truth been sent to him, and inthe name of Piso complained, that he was debarred from visiting him;and that he had excused himself on the score of illness and his loveof retirement; but he had no motive to declare that he preferred thesafety of a private man to his own security; nor was his dispositionprone to flattery; as no man better knew than Nero, who hadexperienced more frequent proofs of the freedom than the servility ofSeneca. "

When this answer was by the tribune reported to Nero, in presence ofPoppæa[115] and Tigellinus, who composed the cabinet council, theraging tyrant asked, whether Seneca meditated a voluntary death? thetribune averred "that he had manifested no symptoms of fear; andneither in his words nor looks did he detect any indication ofregret. " He was therefore commanded to return, and tell him he wasdoomed to die. Fabius Rusticus writes, "that the tribune did notreturn by the road he went, but turning off went to Fenius, captain ofthe guards, and stating to him the emperor's orders, asked whether heshould obey him; and was by him admonished to execute them"; thusdisplaying that want of spirit which by some fatality prevaileduniversally; for Silvanus too was one of the conspirators, and yet wascontributing to multiply the atrocities he had conspired to avenge. Heavoided, however, seeing and speaking to Seneca; but sent in acenturion to apprize him of his final doom. 

Seneca undismayed, called for tables to make his will; and, as thiswas prohibited by the centurion, turning to his friends, he told them, "that since he was debarred from requiting their services, hebequeathed them that which alone was now left him, but which yet wasthe fairest legacy he had to leave them--the example of his life: andif they kept it in view, they would reap the fame due to honorableacquirements and inviolable friendship. " At the same time heendeavored to repress their tears and restore their fortitude, now bysoothing language, and now in a more animated strain and in a tone ofrebuke, asking them, "where were the precepts of philosophy? where therules of conduct under impending evils, studied for so many years?For who was unapprized of the ferocious disposition of Nero? Nor couldanything else be expected after he had murdered his mother and brotherthan that he should proceed to destroy his nursing father andpreceptor. "

After these and similar reasonings addrest to the company in general, he embraced his wife; and after a brief but vigorous effort to get thebetter of the apprehensions that prest upon him at that moment, hebesought and implored her "to refrain from surrendering herself toendless grief; but endeavor to mitigate her regret for her husband bymeans of those honorable consolations which she would experience inthe contemplation of his virtuous life. " Paulina, on the contrary, urged her purpose to die with him, and called for the hand of theexecutioner. When Seneca, unwilling to impede her glory, and also fromaffection, as he was anxious not to leave one who was dear to himabove everything, exposed to the hard usage of the world, thus addresther: "I had pointed out to you how to soften the ills of life; but youprefer the renown of dying: I will not envy you the honor of theexample. Tho both display the same unflinching fortitude inencountering death; still the glory of your exit will be superior tomine. " After this, both had the veins of their arms opened with thesame stroke. As the blood flowed slowly from the aged body of Seneca, attenuated as it was too by scanty sustenance, he had the veins of hislegs and hams also cut; and unable to bear up under the excessivetorture, lest by his own sufferings he should overpower theresolution of his wife, and by witnessing her anguish be betrayed intoimpatience himself, he advised her to retire into another chamber. Hiseloquence continued to flow during the latest moments of hisexistence, and summoning his secretaries, he dictated many things, which, as they have been published in his own words, I forbear toexhibit in other language. 

IV

THE BURNING OF ROME BY ORDER OF NERO[116]

(64 A. D. )

There followed a dreadful disaster; whether fortuitously, or by thewicked contrivance of the prince[117] is not determined, for both areasserted by historians: but of all the calamities which ever befellthis city from the rage of fire, this was the most terrible andsevere. It broke out in that part of the Circus which is contiguous tomounts Palatine and Coelius; where, by reason of shops in which werekept such goods as minister aliment to fire, the moment it commencedit acquired strength, and being accelerated by the wind, it spread atonce through the whole extent of the Circus: for neither were thehouses secured by enclosures, nor the temples environed with walls, nor was there any other obstacle to intercept its progress; but theflame, spreading every way impetuously, invaded first the lowerregions of the city, then mounted to the higher; then again ravagingthe lower, it baffled every effort to extinguish it, by the rapidityof its destructive course, and from the liability of the city toconflagration, in consequence of the narrow and intricate alleys, andthe irregularity of the streets in ancient Rome. [118] Add to this, thewailings of terrified women, the infirm condition of the aged, and thehelplessness of childhood: such as strove to provide for themselves, and those who labored to assist others; these dragging the feeble, those waiting for them; some hurrying, others lingering; altogethercreated a scene of universal confusion and embarrassment: and whilethey looked back upon the danger in their rear, they often foundthemselves beset before, and on their sides: or if they had escapedinto the quarters adjoining, these too were already seized by thedevouring flames; even the parts which they believed remote andexempt, were found to be in the same distress. At last, not knowingwhat to shun, or where to seek sanctuary, they crowded the streets, and lay along in the open fields. Some, from the loss of their wholesubstance, even the means of their daily sustenance, others, fromaffection for their relations, whom they had not been able to snatchfrom the flames, suffered themselves to perish in them, tho they hadopportunity to escape. Neither dared any man offer to check the fire:so repeated were the menaces of many who forbade to extinguish it; andbecause others openly threw firebrands, with loud declarations "thatthey had one who authorized them"; whether they did it that they mightplunder with the less restraint, or in consequence of orders given. 

Nero, who was at that juncture sojourning at Antium, [119] did notreturn to the city till the fire approached that quarter of his housewhich connected the palace with the gardens of Mæcenas;[120] nor couldit, however, be prevented from devouring the house and palace, andeverything around. But for the relief of the people, thus destitute, and driven from their dwellings, he opened the fields of Mars and themonumental edifices erected by Agrippa, [121] and even his own gardens. He likewise reared temporary houses for the reception of the forlornmultitude: and from Ostia and the neighboring cities were brought, upthe river, household necessaries; and the price of grain was reducedto three sesterces the measure. All which proceedings, tho of apopular character, were thrown away, because a rumor had becomeuniversally current, "that the very time when the city was in flames, Nero, going on the stage of his private theater, sang 'The Destructionof Troy, ' assimilating the present disaster to that catastrophe ofancient times. "

At length, on the sixth day, the conflagration was stayed at the footof Esquilliæ, by pulling down an immense quantity of buildings, sothat an open space, and, as it were, void air, might check the ragingelement by breaking the continuity. But ere the consternation hadsubsided the fire broke out afresh, with no little violence, but inregions more spacious, and therefore with less destruction of humanlife: but more extensive havoc was made of the temples, and theporticoes dedicated to amusement. This conflagration, too was thesubject of more censorious remark, as it arose in the Æmilianpossessions of Tigellinus: and Nero seemed to aim at the glory ofbuilding a new city, and calling it by his own name: for, of thefourteen sections into which Rome is divided, four were still standingentire, three were leveled with the ground, and in the seven othersthere remained only here and there a few remnants of houses, shatteredand half-consumed. 

It were no easy task to recount the number of tenements and templeswhich were lost: but the following, most venerable for antiquity andsanctity, were consumed: that dedicated by Servius Tullius to theMoon; the temple and great altar consecrated by Evander the Arcadianto Hercules while present; the chapel vowed by Romulus to JupiterStator; the palace of Numa, [122] with the temple of Vesta, and in itthe tutelar gods of Rome. Moreover, the treasures accumulated by somany victories, the beautiful productions of Greek artists, ancientwritings of authors celebrated for genius, and till then preservedentire, were consumed: and tho great was the beauty of the city, inits renovated form, the older inhabitants remembered many decorationsof the ancient which could not be replaced in the modern city. Therewere some who remarked that the commencement of this fire showeditself on the fourteenth before the calends of July, the day on whichthe Senones set fire to the captured city. Others carried theirinvestigation so far as to determine that an equal number of years, months, and days intervened between the two fires. 

To proceed: Nero appropriated to his own purposes the ruins of hiscountry, and founded upon them a palace; in which the old-fashioned, and, in those luxurious times, common ornaments of gold and preciousstones, were not so much the objects of attraction as lands and lakes;in one part, woods like vast deserts: in another part, open spaces andexpansive prospects. The projectors and superintendents of this planwere Severus and Celer, men of such ingenuity and daring enterprise asto attempt to conquer by art the obstacles of nature, and fool awaythe treasures of the prince: they had even undertaken to sink anavigable canal from the lake Avernus to the mouth of the Tiber, overan arid shore, or through opposing mountains: nor indeed does thereoccur anything of a humid nature for supplying water, except thePomptine marshes; the rest is either craggy rock or a parched soil:and had it even been possible to break through these obstructions, thetoil had been intolerable, and disproportioned to the object. Nero, however who longed to achieve things that exceeded credibility, exerted all his might to perforate the mountains adjoining to Avernus:and to this day there remain traces of his abortive project. 

But the rest of the old site not occupied by his palace, was laid out, not as after the Gallic fire, without discrimination and regularity, but with the lines of streets measured out, broad spaces left fortransit, the height of the buildings limited, open areas left, andporticoes added to protect the front of the clustered dwellings: theseporticoes Nero engaged to rear at his own expense, and then to deliverto each proprietor the areas about them cleared. He moreover proposedrewards proportioned to every man's rank and private substance, andfixt a day within which, if their houses, single or clustered, werefinished, they should receive them: he appointed the marshes of Ostiafor a receptacle of the rubbish, and that the vessels which hadconveyed grain up the Tiber should return laden with rubbish; that thebuildings themselves should be raised to a certain portion of theirheight without beams, and arched with stone from the quarries of Gabiior Alba, that stone being proof against fire: that over the watersprings, which had been improperly intercepted by private individuals, overseers should be placed, to provide for their flowing in greaterabundance, and in a greater number of places, for the supply of thepublic: that every housekeeper should have in his yard means forextinguishing fire; neither should there be party-walls, but everyhouse should be enclosed by its own walls. These regulations, whichwere favorably received, in consideration of their utility, were alsoa source of beauty to the new city: yet some there were who believedthat the ancient form was more conducive to health, as from thenarrowness of the streets and the height of the buildings the rays ofthe sun were more excluded; whereas now, the spacious breadth of thestreets, without any shade to protect it, was more intensely heated inwarm weather. 

Such were the provisions made by human counsels. The gods were nextaddrest with expiations and recourse had to the Sibyl's books. Byadmonition from them to Vulcan, Ceres, and Proserpina, supplicatorysacrifices were made, and Juno propitiated by the matrons, first inthe Capitol, then upon the nearest shore, where, by water drawn fromthe sea, the temple and image of the goddess were besprinkled; and theceremony of placing the goddess in her sacred chair, and her vigil, were celebrated by ladies who had husbands. But not all the reliefthat could come from man, not all the bounties that the prince couldbestow, nor all the atonements which could be presented to the gods, availed to relieve Nero from the infamy of being believed to haveordered the conflagration. 

Hence, to suppress the rumor, he falsely charged with the guilt, andpunished with the most exquisite tortures, the persons commonlycalled Christians, [123] who were hated for their enormities. Christus, the founder of that name was put to death as a criminal by PontiusPilate, procurator of Judea, in the reign of Tiberius: but thepernicious superstition, represt for a time, broke out again, not onlythrough Judea where the mischief originated, but through the city ofRome also, whither all things horrible and disgraceful flow, from allquarters, as to a common receptacle, and where they are encouraged. Accordingly, first those were seized who confest they were Christians;next, on their information a vast multitude were convicted, not somuch on the charge of burning the city, as of hating the human race. And in their deaths they were also made the subjects of sport, forthey were covered with the hides of wild beasts, and worried to deathby dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and when day declined, burned to serve for nocturnal lights. Nero offered his own gardens forthat spectacle, and exhibited a Circensian game, indiscriminatelymingling with the common people in the habit of a charioteer, or elsestanding in his chariot. Whence a feeling of compassion arose towardthe sufferers, tho guilty and deserving to be made examples of bycapital punishment, because they seemed not to be cut off for thepublic good, but victims to the ferocity of one man. [124]

In the mean time, in order to supply money, all Italy was pillaged, the provinces ruined: both the people in alliance with us, and thestates which are called free. Even the gods were not exempt fromplunder on this occasion, their temples in the city being despoiled, and all their gold conveyed away, which the Roman people, in everyage, either in gratitude for triumphs, or in fulfilment of vows, hadconsecrated, in times of prosperity, or in seasons of dismay. ThroughGreece and Asia, indeed, the gifts and oblations, and even the statuesof the deities were carried off; Acratus and Secundus Carinas beingsent into those provinces for the purpose: the former, Nero'sfreedman, a prompt instrument in any iniquity; the other, acquaintedwith Greek learning, as far as relates to lip-knowledge, but unadornedwith virtuous accomplishments. Of Seneca it was reported, "that toavert from himself the odium of this sacrilege, he prayed to retire toa seat of his, remote from Rome, and being refused, feignedindisposition, as tho his nerves were affected, and confined himselfto his chamber. " Some authors have recorded, "that a freedman of his, named Cleonicus, had, by the command of Nero, prepared poison for hismaster, who escaped it, either from the discovery made by thefreedman, or from the caution inspired by his own apprehensions, as hesupported nature by a diet perfectly simple, satisfying the cravingsof hunger by wild fruits, and the solicitations of thirst from therunning brook. "

V

THE BURNING OF THE CAPITOL AT ROME[125]

(69 A. D. )

Martialis had scarcely reentered the Capitol when the furious soldiersappeared before it, without a general, and each man acting on his ownsuggestions. Having rapidly passed the forum, and the temples thatoverlook it, they marched up the opposite hill, as far as the firstgates of the citadel. On the right side of the ascent, a range ofporticoes had been built in ancient times. Going out upon the roof ofthose, the besieged threw a shower of stones and tiles. The assailantshad no weapons but their swords, and to fetch engines and missilesseemed a tedious delay. They threw brands into the portico that juttednear them. They followed up the fire, and would have forced their waythrough the gate of the Capitol, which the fire had laid hold of, ifSabinus had not placed as a barrier in the very approach, in lieu of awall, the statues, those honorable monuments of our ancestors, whichwere pulled down wherever they could be found. They then assaulted theCapitol in two different quarters near the grove of the asylum, andwhere the Tarpeian rock is ascended by a hundred steps. Both attackswere unforeseen. 

That by the asylum was the nearer and most vigorous. Nor could they bestopt from climbing up the contiguous buildings, which being raisedhigh under the idea of undisturbed peace, reach the basement of theCapitol. Here a doubt exists whether the fire was thrown upon theroofs by the storming party or the besieged, the latter being moregenerally supposed to have done it, to repulse those who were climbingup, and had advanced some way. The fire extended itself thence to theporticoes adjoining the temples; soon the eagles that supported thecupola caught fire, and as the timber was old they fed the flame. Thusthe Capitol, with its gates shut, neither stormed, nor defended, wasburned to the ground. 

From the foundation of the city to that hour, the Roman republic hadfelt no calamity so deplorable, so shocking, as that, unassailed by aforeign enemy, and, were it not for the vices of the age, with thedeities propitious, the temple of Jupiter supremely good and great, built by our ancestors with solemn auspices, the pledge of empire, which neither Porsena, [126] when Rome surrendered to his arms, nor theGauls, [127] when they captured the city, were permitted to violate, should be now demolished by the madness of the rulers of the state. The Capitol was once before destroyed by fire during a civil war; butit was from the guilty machinations of private individuals. Now itwas besieged publicly, publicly set fire to; and what were the motivesfor the war? what was the object to be gained, that so severe acalamity was incurred? Warred we in our country's cause?--TarquiniusPriscus, during the war with the Sabines, built it in fulfillment of avow, and laid the foundations more in conformity with hisanticipations of the future grandeur of the empire, than the limitedextent of the Roman means at that time. Servius Tullius, assisted bythe zeal of the allies of Rome, and after him Tarquin the Proud, withthe spoils of Suessa Pometia, added to the building. But the glory ofcompleting the design was reserved for the era of liberty. Whentyrants were swept away, Horatius Pulvilus, in his second consulship, dedicated the temple, finished with such magnificence that the wealthof after ages graced it with new embellishments, but added nothing toits dimensions. Four hundred and fifteen years afterward, in theconsulship of Lucius Scipio and Caius Norbanus, it was burned to theground, and again rebuilt on the old foundation. Sulla having nowtriumphed over his opponents, undertook to build it, but neverthelessdid not dedicate it; the only thing wanting to crown his felicity. That honor was reserved for Lutatius Catulus, whose name, amidst somany works of the Cæsars, remained legible till the days of Vitellius. Such was the sacred building which was at this time reduced to ashes. 

VI

THE SIEGE OF CREMONA[128]

(69 A. D. )

When they came to Cremona, they found a new and enormous difficulty. In the war with Otho, the German legions had formed a camp round thewalls of the town, and fortified it with lines of circumvallation. Newworks were added afterward. The victors stood astonished at the sight, and even the generals were at a stand, undecided what orders to give. With troops harassed by exertions through the night and day, to carrythe place by storm was difficult, and, without succors at hand, mightbe dangerous; but if they marched to Bedriacum, the fatigue would beinsupportable, and the victory would end in nothing. To throw upintrenchments was dangerous, in the face of an enemy, who mightsuddenly sally forth and put them to the rout, while employed on thework in detached parties. A difficulty still greater than all arosefrom the temper of the men, more patient of danger than delay:inasmuch as a state of security afforded no excitement, while hopegrew out of enterprise, however perilous; and carnage, wounds andblood, to whatever extent, were counterbalanced by the insatiabledesire of plunder. 

Antonius[129] determined upon the latter course and ordered therampart to be invested. The attack began at a distance with a volleyof stones and darts, with the greater loss to the Flavians, on whomthe enemy's weapons were thrown with advantage from above. Antoniuspresently assigned portions of the rampart and the gates to thelegions that by this mode of attack in different quarters, valor andcowardice might be distinguished, and a spirit of emulation in honoranimate the army. The third and seventh legions took their stationnearest the road to Bedriacum; the seventh and eighth Claudian, aportion more to the right hand of the rampart; the thirteenth werecarried by their own impetuosity to the gate that looked towardBrixia. [130] Some delay then took place while they supplied themselvesfrom the neighboring villages with pickaxes, spades, and hooks, andscaling-ladders. They then formed a close military shell with theirshields raised above their heads, and under that cover advanced to theramparts. The Roman art of war was seen on both sides. The Vitelliansrolled down massy stones, with which, having disjoined and shaken theshell, they inserted their long poles and spears; till at last, thewhole frame and texture of the shields being dissolved, they strewedthe ground with numbers of the crusht and mangled assailants. .. . 

Severe in the extreme was the conflict maintained by the third andthe seventh legions. Antonius in person led on a select body ofauxiliaries to the same quarter. The Vitellians were no longer able tosustain the shock of men all bent on victory, and seeing their dartsfall on the military shell, and glide off without effect, at last theyrolled down their battering-engine on the heads of the besiegers. Forthe moment, it dispersed and overwhelmed the party among which, itfell; but it also drew after it, in its fall, the battlements andupper parts of the rampart. An adjoining tower, at the same time, yielded to the effect of stones which struck it, and left a breach, atwhich the seventh legion, in the form of a wedge, endeavored to forcetheir way, while the third hewed down the gate with axes and swords. The first man that entered, according to all historians, was CaiusVolusius, a common soldier of the third legion. He gained the summitof the rampart, and, bearing down all resistance, in the view of allbeckoned with his hand, and cried aloud that the camp was captured. The rest of the legion followed him with resistless fury, theVitellians being panic-struck, and throwing themselves headlong fromthe works. The whole space between the camp and the walls of Cremonawas filled with slain. [131]

And now a new form of difficulty was presented by the high walls ofthe city, and towers of stone, the gates secured by iron bars, andtroops brandishing their arms; the inhabitants, a large and numerousbody, all devoted to Vitellius; and a conflux of people from all partsof Italy at the stated fair which was then held. The latter wasregarded by the garrison as an aid, from the increase of numbers; butinflamed the ardor of the besiegers on the score of booty. Antoniusordered his men to take combustibles, and set fire to the most elegantedifices without the city; if, peradventure, the inhabitants, seeingtheir mansions destroyed, would be induced to abandon the adversecause. In the houses that stood near the walls, of a height tooverlook the works, he placed the bravest of his troops; and fromthose stations beams, tiles and firebrands were thrown down to drivethe defenders of the walls from their posts. 

The legions under Antonius now formed a military shell, while the restpoured in a volley of stones and darts; when the spirit of thebesieged gradually gave way. The men highest in rank were willing tomake terms for themselves, lest, if Cremona was taken by storm, theyshould receive no quarter, and the conquerors, disdaining vulgarlives, should fall on the tribunes and centurions, from whom thelargest booty was to be expected. The common men, as usual, carelessabout future events, and safe in their obscurity, still held out. Roaming about the streets, or lurking in private houses, they did notsue for peace even when they had given up the contest. The principalofficers took down the name and images of Vitellius. Cæcina, for hewas still in confinement, they released from his fetters, and desiredhis aid in pleading their cause with the conqueror. He heard theirpetition with disdain, swelling with insolence, while they importunedhim with tears; the last stage of human misery, when so many braveand gallant men were obliged to sue to a traitor for protection! Theythen hung out from the walls the fillets and badges of supplicants. When Antonius ordered a cessation of hostilities, the garrison broughtout their eagles and standards; a mournful train of soldiers withouttheir aims, their eyes riveted to the ground, followed them. Theconquerors gathered round them, and first heaped reproaches upon them, and threatened violence to their persons; but afterward, when they sawthe passiveness with which they received the insults, and that thevanquished, abandoning all their former pride, submitted to everyindignity, the thought occurred that these very men lately conqueredat Bedriacum, and used their victory with moderation. But when Cæcinacame forth, decorated with his robes, and preceded by his lictors, whoopened a way for him through the crowd, the indignation of the victorsburst into a flame. They reproached him for his pride, his cruelty, and even for his treachery: so detested is villainy. Antonius opposedthe fury of his men, and sent him under escort to Vespasian. 

Meanwhile, the common people of Cremona, in the midst of so manysoldiers, were subjected to grievous oppressions, and were in dangerof being all put to the sword, if the rage of the soldiery had notbeen assuaged by the entreaties of their leaders. Antonius called themto an assembly, when he spoke of the conquerors in lofty terms, and ofthe vanquished with humanity; of Cremona he said nothing either way. But the army, adding to their love of plunder an inveterate aversionto the people, were bent on the extirpation of the inhabitants. Inthe war against Otho they were deemed the abettors of Vitellius; andafterward, when the thirteenth legion was left among them to build anamphitheater, with the usual insolence of the lower orders in towns, they had assailed them with offensive ribaldry. The spectacle ofgladiators exhibited there by Cæcina inflamed the animosity againstthe people. Their city, too, was now for the second time the seat ofwar; and, in the heat of the last engagement, the Vitellians werethence supplied with refreshments; and some of their women, led intothe field of battle by their zeal for the cause, were slain. Theperiod, too, of the fair had given to a colony otherwise affluent animposing appearance of accumulated wealth. Antonius, by his fame andbrilliant success, eclipsed all the other commanders: the attention ofall was fixt on him alone. He hastened to the baths to wash off theblood; and on observing that the water was not hot enough, he saidthat they would soon grow hotter. The expression was caught up: acasual word among slaves had the effect of throwing upon him the wholeodium of having given a signal for setting fire to Cremona, which wasalready in flames. 

Forty thousand armed men had poured into it. The number of drudges andcamp-followers was still greater, and more abandoned to lust andcruelty. Neither age nor dignity served as a protection; deeds of lustwere perpetrated amidst scenes of carnage, and murder was added torape. Aged men and women that had passed their prime, and who wereuseless as booty, were made the objects of brutal sport. If a maturemaiden, or any one of comely appearance, fell in their way, afterbeing torn piecemeal by the rude hands of contending ruffians, they atlast were the occasion of their turning their swords against eachother. While eagerly carrying off money or massy gold from thetemples, they were butchered by others stronger than themselves. Notcontent with the treasures that lay open to their view, some forcedthe owners to discover their hidden wealth, and dig up their buriedriches. Numbers carried flaming torches, and, as soon as they hadbrought forth their booty, in their wanton sport set the gutted housesand plundered temples on fire. In an army differing in language andmanners, composed of Roman citizens, allies, and foreign auxiliaries, all the diversities of passions were exhibited. Each had his separatenotions of right and wrong; nor was anything unlawful. Four days didCremona minister to their rapacity. When everything else, sacred andprofane, was leveled in the conflagration, the temple of Memphitisalone remained standing, outside of the walls; saved either by itssituation, or the influence of the deity. 

Such was the fate of Cremona, two hundred and eighty-six years fromits foundation. It was built during the consulship of TiberiusSempronius and Publius Cornelius, at the time when Hannibal threatenedan irruption into Italy, as a bulwark against the Gauls inhabitingbeyond the Po, or any other power that might break in over the Alps. The colony, as might be expected, grew and flourished in the number ofits settlers, from the contiguity of rivers, the fertility of itssoil, from alliances and intermarriages with the neighboring people;never having suffered from foreign wars, but a sad sufferer from civildissensions. Antonius, shrinking from the infamy of this horribletransaction (for the detestation it excited was increasing), issued anedict forbidding all manner of persons to detain the citizens ofCremona as prisoners of war. At the same time the booty was renderedvalueless by a resolution adopted throughout Italy, not to purchasethe captives taken on that occasion. The soldiers then began to murderthem. However, when this was known, the prisoners were eagerlyransomed by their friends and relations. The survivors in a short timereturned to Cremona. The temples and public places were rebuilt, atthe recommendation of Vespasian, by the munificence of the burgesses. 

VII

AGRICOLA[132]

Cnæus Julius Agricola was born at the ancient and illustrious colonyof Forum Julii. Both his grandfathers were imperial procurators, anoffice which confers the rank of equestrian nobility. His father, Julius Græcinus, of the senatorian order, was famous for the study ofeloquence and philosophy; and by these accomplishments he drew onhimself the displeasure of Caius Cæsar, [133] for, being commanded toundertake the accusation of Marcus Silanus--on his refusal, he wasput to death. His mother was Julia Procilla, a lady of exemplarychastity. Educated with tenderness in her bosom, he passed hischildhood and youth in the attainment of every liberal art. He waspreserved from the allurements of vice, not only by a naturally gooddisposition, but by being sent very early to pursue his studies atMassilia;[134] a place where Grecian politeness and provincialfrugality are happily united. I remember he was used to relate, thatin his early youth he should have engaged with more ardor inphilosophical speculation than was suitable to a Roman and a senator, had not the prudence of his mother restrained the warmth and vehemenceof his disposition: for his lofty and upright spirit, inflamed by thecharms of glory and exalted reputation, led him to the pursuit withmore eagerness than discretion. Reason and riper years tempered hiswarmth; and from the study of wisdom, he retained what is mostdifficult to compass--moderation. 

He learned the rudiments of war in Britain, under Suetonius Paulinus, an active and prudent commander, who chose him for his tent companion, in order to form an estimate of his merit. Nor did Agricola, like manyyoung men, who convert military service into wanton pastime, availhimself licentiously or slothfully of his tribunitial title, or hisinexperience, to spend his time in pleasures and absences from duty;but he employed himself in gaining a knowledge of the country, makinghimself known to the army, learning from the experienced, andimitating the best; neither pressing to be employed through vainglory, nor declining it through timidity; and performing his duty with equalsolicitude and spirit. At no other time in truth was Britain moreagitated or in a state of greater uncertainty. Our veteransslaughtered, our colonies burned, our armies cut off--we were thencontending for safety, afterward for victory. During this period, altho all things were transacted under the conduct and direction ofanother, and the stress of the whole, as well as the glory ofrecovering the province, fell to the general's share, yet theyimparted to the young Agricola skill, experience, and incentives; andthe passion for military glory entered his soul; a passion ungratefulto the times, in which eminence was unfavorably construed, and a greatreputation was no less dangerous than a bad one. 

Departing thence to undertake the offices of magistracy in Rome, hemarried Domitia Decidiana, a lady of illustrious descent, from whichconnection he derived credit and support in his pursuit of greaterthings. They lived together in admirable harmony and mutual affection;each giving the preference to the other; a conduct equally laudable inboth, except that a greater degree of praise is due to a good wife, inproportion as a bad one deserves the greater censure. The lot ofquestorship gave him Asia for his province, and the proconsul SalviusTitianus[135] for his superior; by neither of which circumstances washe corrupted, altho the province was wealthy and open to plunder, andthe proconsul, from his rapacious disposition, would readily haveagreed to a mutual concealment of guilt. His family was thereincreased by the birth of a daughter, who was both the support of hishouse, and his consolation; for he lost an elder-born son ininfancy. .. . 

On his return from commanding the legion he was raised by Vespasian tothe patrician order, and then invested with the government ofAquitania, a distinguished promotion, both in respect to the officeitself, and the hopes of the consulate to which it destined him. It isa common supposition that military men, habituated to the unscrupulousand summary processes of camps, where things are carried with a stronghand, are deficient in the address and subtlety of genius requisite incivil jurisdiction. Agricola, however, by his natural prudence, wasenabled to act with facility and precision even among civilians. Hedistinguished the hours of business from those of relaxation. When thecourt or tribunal demanded his presence, he was grave, intent, awful, yet generally inclined to lenity. When the duties of his office wereover, the man of power was instantly laid aside. Nothing of sternness, arrogance, or rapaciousness appeared; and, what was a singularfelicity, his affability did not impair his authority, nor hisseverity render him less beloved. To mention integrity and freedomfrom corruption in such a man, would be an affront to his virtues. Hedid not even court reputation, an object to which men of worthfrequently sacrifice, by ostentation or artifice: equally avoidingcompetition with his colleagues, and contention with the procurators. To overcome in such a contest he thought inglorious; and to be putdown, a disgrace. Somewhat less than three years were spent in thisoffice, when he was recalled to the immediate prospect of theconsulate; while at the same time a popular opinion prevailed that thegovernment of Britain would be conferred upon him; an opinion notfounded upon any suggestions of his own, but upon his being thoughtequal to the station. Common fame does not always err, sometimes iteven directs a choice. When Consul, [136] he contracted his daughter, alady already of the happiest promise, to myself, then a very youngman; and after his office was expired I received her in marriage. Hewas immediately appointed governor of Britain, and the pontificate wasadded to his other dignities. .. . 

His decease was a severe affliction to his family, a grief to hisfriends, and a subject of regret even to foreigners, and those who hadno personal knowledge of him. The common people too, and the class wholittle interest themselves about public concerns, were frequent intheir inquiries at his house during his sickness, and made him thesubject of conversation at the forum and in private circles; nor didany person either rejoice at the news of his death, or speedily forgetit. Their commiseration was aggravated by a prevailing report that hewas taken off by poison. I can not venture to affirm anything certainof this matter; yet, during the whole course of his illness, theprincipal of the imperial freedmen and the most confidential of thephysicians was sent much more frequently than was customary with acourt whose visits were chiefly paid by messages; whether that wasdone out of real solicitude, or for the purposes of state inquisition. On the day of his decease, it is certain that accounts of hisapproaching dissolution were every instant transmitted to the emperorby couriers stationed for the purpose; and no one believed that theinformation, which so much pains was taken to accelerate, could bereceived with regret. He put on, however, in his countenance anddemeanor, the semblance of grief: for he was now secured from anobject of hatred, and could more easily conceal his joy than his fear. It was well known that on reading the will, in which he was nominatedco-heir with the excellent wife and most dutiful daughter of Agricola, he exprest great satisfaction, as if it had been a voluntary testimonyof honor and esteem: so blind and corrupt had his mind been renderedby continual adulation, that he was ignorant none but a bad princecould be nominated heir to a good father. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 101: "If by eloquence is meant the ability to persuade, thenTacitus, " according to Cruttwell, "is the most eloquent historian thatever existed. " His portraits, especially those of Tiberius and Nero, have been severely criticized by French and English writers, but whilehis verdicts have been shaken, they have not been reversed. The worldstill fails to doubt their substantial reality. Tacitus, addsCruttwell, has probably exercised upon readers a greater power thanany other writer of prose whom Rome produced. ]

[Footnote 102: From Book I of the "Annals. " The Oxford translationrevised. ]

[Footnote 103: Marcellus was the son of Octavia by her husband C. Claudius Marcellus. He married Julia, a daughter of Augustus. ]

[Footnote 104: Agrippa was the leading administrative mind underAugustus, with whom he had served in the Civil War and in the battleActium. The Pantheon, the only complete building of Imperial Rome thatstill survives, was finished and dedicated by him. He married as histhird wife Julia, the widow of Marcellus. ]

[Footnote 105: Nola lay sixteen miles northeast of Naples. Thereference is to Drusus, son of Tiberius, and to Germanicus, at thattime commanding on the Rhine. ]

[Footnote 106: From Book III of the "Annals. " The Oxford translationrevised. ]

[Footnote 107: This Agrippina was the daughter of Agrippa and Julia. She married Germanicus, became the mother of Caligula, and was a womanof lofty character, who died by voluntary starvation after having beenexiled by Tiberius. ]

[Footnote 108: It has been conjectured that the two children ofGermanicus here referred to were Caligula, who had gone to the Eastwith his father, and Julia, who was born in Lesbos. ]

[Footnote 109: These children were Nero, Drusus, Agrippina andDrusilla. ]

[Footnote 110: Not the Emperor of that name, who was not born until121 A. D. ]

[Footnote 111: Mother of Tiberius by a husband whom she had marriedbefore she married Augustus. ]

[Footnote 112: Julia, daughter of Julius Cæsar by his wife Cornelia. ]

[Footnote 113: From Book XV of the "Annals. " The Oxford translationrevised. ]

[Footnote 114: Caius Piso, lender of an unsuccessful conspiracyagainst Nero in 65. Other famous Romans of the name of Piso areLucius, censor, consul and author; another Lucius whose daughter wasmarried to Julius Cæsar; and Cneius, governor of Syria, who wasaccused of murdering Germanicus. ]

[Footnote 115: Poppæa Sabina, who once was the wife of Otho andmistress of Nero. She was afterward divorced from Otho and married toNero in 62 A. D. She died from the effects of a kick given by Nero. ]

[Footnote 116: From Book XV at the "Annals. " The Oxford translatorrevised. ]

[Footnote 117: Nero. ]

[Footnote 118: Suetonius relates that, when some one repeated to Nerothe line "When I am dead, let fire devour the world, " he replied, "Letit be whilst I am living. " That author asserts that Nero's purposesprung in part from his dislike of old buildings and narrow streets. During the progress of the fire several men of consular rank metNero's domestic servants with torches and combustibles which they wereusing to start fires, but did not dare to stay their hands. Livyasserts that, after it was destroyed by the Gauls, Rome had beenrebuilt with narrow winding streets. ]

[Footnote 119: A city in the central Apennines, six miles from LakeFucinus. ]

[Footnote 120: Near the Esquiline. ]

[Footnote 121: The house, gardens, baths and the Pantheon of Agrippaare here referred to. Nero's gardens were near the Vatican. ]

[Footnote 122: The palace of Numa, on the Palatine hill, had been themansion of Augustus. ]

[Footnote 123: Carlyle, in his essay on Voltaire, refers to thispassage as having been "inserted as a small, transitory, altogethertrifling circumstance, in the history of such a potentate as Nero";but it has become "to us the most earnest, sad and sternly significantpassage that we know to exist in writing. "]

[Footnote 124: Claudius already had expelled the Jews from Rome andincluded in their number the followers of Christ. But his edict wasnot specifically directed against the Christians. Nero was the firstemperor who persecuted them as professors of a new faith. ]

[Footnote 125: From Book III of the "History. " The Oxford translationrevised. Pliny, Josephus and Dio all agree that the Capitol was set onfire by the followers of Vitellius. ]

[Footnote 126: Porsena did not actually get into Rome, being inducedto raise the siege when only at its gates. ]

[Footnote 127: The capture of Rome by the Gauls under Brennus tookplace in 390 B. C. The destruction of the Capitol in the first CivilWar occurred in 83 B. C. , during the consulship of Lucius Scipio andCaius Norbaius. The fire was not started as an act of open violence, however, but by clandestine incendiaries. ]

[Footnote 128: From Book III of the "History. " The Oxford translationrevised. Near Cremona had been fought the first battle of Bedriacum bythe armies of Vitellius and Otho, rivals for the imperial throne, Othobeing defeated. A few months later on the same field the army ofVitellius was overthrown by Vespasian, who succeeded him as emperor. Vitellius retired to Cremona, which was then placed under siege byVespasian, and altho strongly fortified, captured. ]

[Footnote 129: Antonius Primus, the chief commander of Vespasian'sforces. ]

[Footnote 130: The modern Brescia. ]

[Footnote 131: According to Josephus 30, 000 of the Vitellians perishedand 4, 500 of the followers of Vespasian. ]

[Footnote 132: From the Oxford translation revised. ]

[Footnote 133: Caligula, not Caius Julius Cæsar, is here referred to, he also having borne the name of Caius. ]

[Footnote 134: Now Marseilles, founded by Phoenicians, whointroduced, there a degree of Greek culture which long made the cityfamous. ]

[Footnote 135: A brother of the Emperor Otho. ]

[Footnote 136: Agricola was Consul in 77 A. D. , and had for colleagueDomitian, afterward Emperor. ]

PLINY THE YOUNGER

 Born at Como, in 63 A. D. ; died in 113; nephew of the elder Pliny; Consul in 100; governor of Bithynia and Pontus in 111; friend of Trajan and Tacitus; his letters and a eulogy of Trajan alone among his writings have survived. 

I

OF THE CHRISTIANS IN HIS PROVINCE[137]

It is my invariable rule, Sir, to refer to you in all matters where Ifeel doubtful; for who is more capable of removing my scruples, orinforming my ignorance? Having never been present at any trialsconcerning those who profess Christianity, I am unacquainted not onlywith the nature of their crimes, or the measure of their punishment, but how far it is proper to enter into an examination concerning them. Whether, therefore, any difference is usually made with respect toages, or no distinction is to be observed between the young and theadult; whether repentance entitles them to a pardon; or if a man hasbeen once a Christian, it avails nothing to desist from his error;whether the very profession of Christianity, unattended with anycriminal act, or only the crimes themselves inherent in the professionare punishable; on all these points I am in great doubt. In themeanwhile, the method I have observed toward those who have beenbrought before me as Christians is this: I asked them whether theywere Christians; if they admitted it, I repeated the question twice, and threatened them with punishment; if they persisted, I ordered themto be at once punished: for I was persuaded whatever the nature oftheir opinions might be, a contumacious and inflexible obstinacycertainly deserved correction. There were others also brought beforeme possest with the same infatuation, but being Roman citizens Idirected them to be sent to Rome. 

But this crime spreading (as is usually the case) while it wasactually under prosecution, several instances of the same natureoccurred. An anonymous information was laid before me, containing acharge against several persons, who upon examination denied they wereChristians, or had ever been so. They repeated after me an invocationto the gods, and offered religious rites with wine and incense beforeyour statue (which for that purpose I had ordered to be brought, together with those of the gods), and even reviled the name of Christ:whereas there is no forcing, it is said, those who are reallyChristians into any of these compliances: I thought it proper, therefore, to discharge them. Some among those who were accused by awitness in person at first confest themselves Christians butimmediately after denied it; the rest owned indeed that they had beenof that number formerly, but had now (some above three, others more, and a few above twenty years ago) renounced that error. They allworshiped your statue and the images of the gods, utteringimprecations at the same time against the name of Christ. Theyaffirmed the whole of their guilt of their error, was, that they meton a stated day before it was light, and addrest a form of prayer toChrist, as to a divinity, binding themselves by a solemn oath, not forthe purposes of any wicked design, but never to commit any fraud, theft, or adultery, never to falsify their word, nor deny a trust whenthey should be called upon to deliver it up; after which it was theircustom to separate, and then reassemble, to eat in common a harmlessmeal. From this custom, however, they desisted after the publicationof my edict, by which, according to your commands, I forbade themeeting of any assemblies. 

After receiving this account, I judged it so much the more necessaryto endeavor to extort the real truth by putting two female slaves tothe torture, who were said to officiate in their religious rites: butall I could discover was evidence of an absurd and extravagantsuperstition. I deemed it expedient, therefore, to adjourn all furtherproceedings, in order to consult you. For it appears to be a matterhighly deserving your consideration, more especially as great numbersmust be involved in the danger of these prosecutions, which havealready extended, and are still likely to extend, to persons of allranks and ages, and even of both sexes. In fact, this contagioussuperstition is not confined to the cities only, but has spread itsinfection among the neighboring villages and country. Nevertheless, itstill seems possible to restrain its progress. The temples, at least, which were once almost deserted, begin now to be frequented; and thesacred rites, after a long intermission, are again revived; whilethere is a general demand for the victims, which till lately foundvery few purchasers. From all this it is easy to conjecture whatnumbers might be reclaimed if a general pardon were granted to thosewho shall repent of their error. [138]

II

TO TACITUS ON THE ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS[139]

(79 A. D. )

Your request that I would send you an account of my uncle's[140]death, in order to transmit a more exact relation of it to posterity, deserves my acknowledgments; for, if this accident shall be celebratedby your pen, the glory of it, I am well assured, will be renderedforever illustrious. And notwithstanding he perished by a misfortune, which, as it involved at the same time a most beautiful country inruins, and destroyed so many populous cities, seems to promise him aneverlasting remembrance; notwithstanding he has himself composed manyand lasting works; yet I am persuaded the mentioning of him in yourimmortal writings will greatly contribute to render his name immortal. 

He was at that time with the fleet under his command at Misenum. [141]On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother desiredhim to observe a cloud which appeared of a very unusual size andshape. He had just taken a turn in the sun, and, after bathinghimself in cold water, and making a light luncheon, gone back to hisbooks: he immediately arose and went out upon a rising ground fromwhence he might get a better sight of this very uncommon appearance. Acloud, from which mountain was uncertain, at this distance (but it wasfound afterward to come from Mount Vesuvius), [142] was ascending, theappearance of which I can not give you a more exact description ofthan by likening it to that of a pine-tree, for it shot up to a greatheight in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread itself out atthe top into a sort of branches; occasioned, I imagine, either by asudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which decreased asit advanced upward, or the cloud itself being prest back again by itsown weight, expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it appearedsometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted according as it waseither more or less impregnated with earth and cinders. Thisphenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and research as my uncleextraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a lightvessel to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to accompanyhim. I said I had rather go on with my work; and it so happened he hadhimself given me something to write out. 

As he was coming out of the house, he received a note from Rectina, the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at the imminent dangerwhich threatened her; for her villa lying at the foot of MountVesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea; she earnestlyentreated him therefore to come to her assistance. He accordinglychanged his first intention and what he had begun from aphilosophical, he now carries out in a noble and generous spirit. Heordered the galleys to put to sea and went himself on board with anintention of assisting not only Rectina but the several other townswhich lay thickly strewn along that beautiful coast. Hastening then tothe place from whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steeredhis course direct to the point of danger, and with so much calmnessand presence of mind as to be able to make and dictate hisobservations upon the motion and all the phenomena of that dreadfulscene. He was now so close to the mountain that the cinders, whichgrew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice stones, and black pieces of burning rock: theywere in danger too not only of being aground by the sudden retreat ofthe sea, but also from the vast fragments which rolled down from themountains, and obstructed all the shore. Here he stopt to considerwhether he should turn back again; to which the pilot advising him, "Fortune, " said he, "favors the brave; steer to where Pomponianus is. "Pomponianus was then at Stabiæ, [143] separated by a bay, which thesea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore. He hadalready sent his baggage on board; for tho he was not at that time inactual danger, yet being within sight of it, and indeed extremelynear, if it should in the least increase, he was determined to put tosea as soon as the wind, which was blowing dead in-shore, should godown. 

It was favorable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whomhe found in the greatest consternation: he embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to keep up his spirits, and the moreeffectually to soothe his fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got ready, and then, after having bathed, satdown to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least (what is just asheroic) with every appearance of it. Meanwhile broad flames shone outin several places from Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the nightcontributed to render still brighter and clearer. But my uncle, inorder to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it wasonly the burning of the villages, which the country people hadabandoned to the flames: after this he retired to rest, and it is mostcertain he was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep: forhis breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was rather heavyand sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside. The court which ledto his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, if hehad continued there any time longer, it would have been impossible forhim to have made his way out. So he was awoke and got up, and went toPomponianus and the rest of his company, who were feeling too anxiousto think of going to bed. They consulted together whether it would bemost prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side toside with frequent and violent concussions as tho shaken from theirvery foundations; or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stonesand cinders, tho light indeed yet fell in large showers, andthreatened destruction. In this choice of dangers they resolved forthe fields: a resolution which, while the rest of the company werehurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool anddeliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upontheir heads with napkins; and this was their whole defense against thestorm of stones that fell round them. 

It was now day everywhere else, but there a deeper darkness prevailedthan in the thickest night; which however was in some degreealleviated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thoughtproper to go farther down upon the shore to see if they might safelyput out to sea, but found the waves still running extremely high, andboisterous. There my uncle, laying himself down upon a sail-cloth, which was spread for him, called twice for some cold water, which hedrank, when immediately the flames, preceded by a strong whiff ofsulfur, dispersed the rest of the party, and obliged him to rise. Heraised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, andinstantly fell down dead; suffocated, as I conjecture, by some grossand noxious vapor, having always had a weak throat, which was ofteninflamed. As soon as it was light again, which was not till the thirdday after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, andwithout any marks of violence upon it, in the dress in which he fell, and looking more like a man asleep than dead. .. . 

My uncle having left us, [144] I spent such time as was left on mystudies (it was on their account indeed that I had stopt behind), tillit was time for my bath. After which I went to supper, and then fellinto a short and uneasy sleep. There had been noticed for many daysbefore a trembling of the earth, which did not alarm us much, as thisis quite an ordinary occurrence in Campania; but it was soparticularly violent that night that it not only shook but actuallyoverturned, as it would seem, everything about us. My mother rushedinto my chamber, where she found me rising, in order to awaken her. Wesat down in the open court of the house, which occupied a small spacebetween the buildings and the sea. As I was at that time but eighteenyears of age, I know not whether I should call my behavior, in thisdangerous juncture, courage or folly; but I took up Livy, and amusedmyself with turning over that author, and even making extracts fromhim, as if I had been perfectly at my leisure. Just then, a friend ofmy uncle's, who had lately come to him from Spain, joined us, andobserving me sitting by my mother with a book in my hand, reproved herfor her calmness, and me at the same time for my careless security:nevertheless I went on with my author. 

Tho it was now morning, the light was still exceedingly faint anddoubtful; the buildings all around us tottered, and tho we stood uponopen ground, yet as the place was narrow and confined, there was noremaining without imminent danger: we therefore resolved to quit thetown. 

A panic-stricken crowd followed us, and (as to a mind distracted withterror every suggestion seems more prudent than its own) prest on usin dense array to drive us forward as we came out. Being at aconvenient distance from the houses, we stood still, in the midst of amost dangerous and dreadful scene. The chariots which we had orderedto be drawn out, were so agitated backward and forward, tho upon themost level ground, that we could not keep them steady, even bysupporting them with large stones. The sea seemed to roll back uponitself, and to be driven from its banks by the convulsive motion ofthe earth; it is certain at least the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea animals were left upon it. On the other side, a blackand dreadful cloud, broken with rapid, zigzag flashes, revealed behindit variously shaped masses of flame: these last were likesheet-lightning, but much larger. Upon this our Spanish friend, whom Imentioned above, addressing himself to my mother and me with greatenergy and urgency: "If your brother, " he said, "if your uncle besafe, he certainly wishes you may be so too; but if he perished, itwas his desire, no doubt, that you might both survive him: whytherefore do you delay your escape a moment?" We could never think ofour own safety, we said, while we were uncertain of his. Upon this ourfriend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmostprecipitation. Soon afterward, the cloud began to descend, and coverthe sea. It had already surrounded and concealed the island ofCapreæ. [145]

My mother now besought, urged, even commanded me to make my escape atany rate, which, as I was young, I might easily do; as for herself, she said, her age and corpulency rendered all attempts of that sortimpossible; however she would willingly meet death if she could havethe satisfaction of seeing that she was not the occasion of mine. ButI absolutely refused to leave her, and, taking her by the hand, compelled her to go with me. She complied with great reluctance, andnot without many reproaches to herself for retarding my flight. Theashes now began to fall upon us, tho in no great quantity. I lookedback; a dense dark mist seemed to be following us, spreading itselfover the country like a cloud. "Let us turn out of the high-road, " Isaid, "while we can still see, for fear that, should we fall in theroad, we should be prest to death in the dark, by the crowds that arefollowing us. " We had scarcely sat down when night came upon us, notsuch as we have when the sky is cloudy, or when there is no moon, butthat of a room when it is shut up, and all the lights put out. Youmight hear the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and theshouts of men; some calling for their children, others for theirparents, others for their husbands, and seeking to recognize eachother by the voices that replied; one lamenting his own fate, anotherthat of his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying;some lifting their hands to the gods; but the greater part convincedthat there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless nightof which we have heard had come upon the world. Among these therewere some who augmented the real terrors by others imaginary orwilfully invented. I remember some who declared that one part ofMisenum had fallen, that another was on fire; it was false, but theyfound people to believe them. It now grew rather lighter, which weimagined to be rather the forerunner of an approaching burst of flames(as in truth it was) than the return of day: however, the fire fell ata distance from us: then again we were immersed in thick darkness, anda heavy shower of ashes rained upon us, which we were obliged everynow and then to stand up to shake off, otherwise we should have beencrusht and buried in the heap. 

I might boast that, during all this scene of horror, not a sigh, orexpression of fear, escaped me, had not my support been grounded inthat miserable, tho mighty, consolation, that all mankind wereinvolved in the same calamity and that I was perishing with the worlditself. At last this dreadful darkness was dissipated by degrees, likea cloud or smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun shone out, tho with a lurid light, like when an eclipse is coming on. Everyobject that presented itself to our eyes (which were extremelyweakened) seemed changed, being covered deep with ashes as if withsnow. My mother and I, notwithstanding the danger we had passed, andthat which still threatened us, had no thoughts of leaving the place, till we could receive some news of my uncle. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 137: Addrest to the Emperor Trajan while proconsul in Pontusand Bithynia. The Melmoth translation revised by Bosanquet. Thisletter and the passage in Tacitus printed elsewhere in this volume, are the only genuine contemporary references to the early Christiansto be found in ancient writings. Pliny's letter was preserved by theChristians themselves as evidence of the purity of their faith andpractises. Early writers of the Church frequently appeal to it againstcalumniators. It was written within forty years of the death of St. Paul. ]

[Footnote 138: Trajan's reply to this letter was as follows: "You haveadopted the right course, my dearest Secundus, in investigating thecharges against the Christians who were brought before you. It is notpossible to lay down any general rule for all such cases. Do not goout of your way to look for them. If indeed they should be broughtbefore you, and the crime is proved, they must be punished; with therestriction, however, that where the party denies he is a Christian, and shall make it evident that he is not, by invoking our gods, lethim (notwithstanding any former suspicion) be pardoned upon hisrepentance. Anonymous information ought not to be received in any sortof prosecution. It is introducing a very dangerous precedent and isquite foreign to the spirit of our age. "]

[Footnote 139: The translation of William Melmoth, revised by F. C. T. Bosanquet. Pliny wrote two letters to Tacitus on this subject, each atthe request of the historian. Both are given here. ]

[Footnote 140: Pliny the elder was his uncle. ]

[Footnote 141: In the Bay of Naples. ]

[Footnote 142: About six miles distant from Naples. This eruption ofVesuvius, in which Herculaneum and Pompeii were buried, happened A. D. 79, in the first year of the emperor Titus. ]

[Footnote 143: Now called Castellammare, in the Bay of Naples, aboutfifteen miles southeast of the city of Naples. ]

[Footnote 144: The paragraphs from this point to the end are fromPliny's second letter to Tacitus. ]

[Footnote 145: The island near Naples, now called Capri. ]

SUETONIUS

 Lived in the first half of the second century A. D. ; biographer and historian; private secretary of the emperor Hadrian about 119-121; a friend of the younger Pliny, whom he accompanied to Bithynia in 112; wrote several works, of which only His "Lives of the Twelve Cæsars" have survived. 

I

THE LAST DAYS OF AUGUSTUS[146]

(14 A. D. )

His death, of which I shall now speak, and his subsequent deification, were intimated by divers manifest prodigies. As he was finishing thecensus amidst a great crowd of people in the Campus Martius, an eaglehovered round him several times, and then directed its course to aneighboring temple, where it settled upon the name of Agrippa, and atthe first letter. Upon observing this, he ordered his colleagueTiberius to put up the vows, which it is usual to make on suchoccasions, for the succeeding Lustrum. For he declared he would notmeddle with what it was probable he should never accomplish, tho thetables were ready drawn for it. About the same time, the first letterof his name, in an inscription upon one of his statues, was struck outby lightning; which was interpreted as a presage that he would liveonly a hundred days longer, the letter C denoting that number; andthat he would be placed among the gods as Æsar, which in the remainingpart of the word Cæsar, signifies, in the Tuscan language, a god. Being, therefore, about dispatching Tiberius to Illyricum, anddesigning to go with him as far as Beneventum, but being detained byseveral persons who applied to him respecting causes they haddepending, he cried out (and it was afterward regarded as an omen ofhis death), "Not all the business in the world shall detain me at Romeone moment longer"; and setting out upon his journey, he went as faras Astura, whence, contrary to his custom, he put to sea in thenight-time, as there was a favorable wind. 

His malady proceeded from diarrhea; notwithstanding which, he wentround the coast of Campania, and the adjacent islands, and spent fourdays in that of Capri; where he gave himself up entirely to repose andrelaxation. Happening to sail by the bay of Puteoli, [147] thepassengers and mariners aboard a ship of Alexandria, just thenarrived, clad all in white, with chaplets upon their heads, andoffering incense, loaded him with praises and joyful acclamations, crying out, "By you we live, by you we sail securely, by you enjoy ourliberty and our fortunes. " At which being greatly pleased, hedistributed to each of those who attended him, forty gold pieces, requiring from them an assurance on oath, not to employ the sum giventhem in any other way than the purchase of Alexandrian merchandise. And during several days afterward, he distributed Togæ and Pallia, among other gifts, on condition that the Romans should use the Greekand the Greeks the Roman dress and language. He likewise constantlyattended to see the boys perform their exercises, according to anancient custom still continued at Capri. He gave them likewise anentertainment in his presence, and not only permitted, but requiredfrom them the utmost freedom in jesting, and scrambling for fruit, victuals, and other things which he threw among them. In a word, heindulged himself in all the ways of amusement he could contrive. .. . 

Upon the day of his death, he now and then inquired if there was anydisturbance in the town on his account; and calling for a mirror, heordered his hair to be combed, and his shrunk cheeks to be adjusted. Then asking his friends who were admitted into the room, "Do ye thinkthat I have acted my part on the stage of life well?" he immediatelysubjoined, "If all be right, with joy your voices raise, In loud applauses to the actor's praise. "

After which, having dismissed them all, whilst he was inquiring ofsome persons who were just arrived from Rome, concerning Drusus'sdaughter, who was in a bad state of health, he expired suddenly, amidst the kisses of Livia, and with these words: "Livia! live mindfulof our union; and now, farewell!" dying a very easy death, and such ashe himself had always wished for. For as often as he heard that anyperson had died quickly and without pain, he wished for himself andhis friends the like _euthanasia_ (an easy death), for that was theword he made use of. He betrayed but one symptom, before he breathedhis last, of being delirious, which was this: he was all on a suddenmuch frightened, and complained that he was carried away by forty men. But this was rather a presage, than any delirium: for precisely thatnumber of soldiers, belonging to the prætorian cohort, carried out hiscorpse. 

He expired in the same room in which his father Octavius had died, when the two Sextus's, Pompey and Apuleius, were Consuls, upon thefourteenth of the calends of September [the 19th August], at the ninthhour of the day, being seventy-six years of age, wanting onlythirty-five days. His remains were carried by the magistrates of themunicipal towns and colonies, from Nola to Bovillæ, [148] and in thenight-time because of the season of the year. During the intervals, the body lay in some basilica, or great temple, of each town. AtBovillæ it was met by the Equestrian Order, who carried it to thecity, and deposited it in the vestibule of his own house. The senateproceeded with so much zeal in the arrangement of his funeral, andpaying honor to his memory, that, among several other proposals, somewere for having the funeral procession made through the triumphalgate, preceded by the image of Victory which is in the senate-house, and the children of highest rank and of both sexes singing the funeraldirge. Others proposed, that on the day of the funeral, they shouldlay aside their gold rings, and wear rings of iron; and others, thathis bones should be collected by the priests of the principalcolleges. One likewise proposed to transfer the name of August toSeptember, because he was born in the latter, but died in the former. Another moved, that the whole period of time, from his birth to hisdeath, should be called the Augustan age, and be inserted in thecalendar under that title. But at last it was judged proper to bemoderate in the honors paid to his memory. Two funeral orations werepronounced in his praise, one before the temple of Julius, byTiberius; and the other before the rostra, under the old shops, byDrusus, Tiberius's son. The body was then carried upon the shouldersof senators into the Campus Martius, and there burned. A man ofprætorian rank affirmed upon oath, that he saw his spirit ascend fromthe funeral pile to heaven. The most distinguished persons of theequestrian order, barefooted, and with their tunics loose, gathered uphis relics, and deposited them in the mausoleum[149] which had beenbuilt in his sixth consulship between the Flaminian Way and the bankof the Tiber; at which time likewise he gave the groves and walksabout it for the use of the people. 

II

THE GOOD DEEDS OF NERO[150]

He was seventeen years of age at the death of that prince, [151] and assoon as that event was made public, he went out to the cohort on guardbetween the hours of six and seven; for the omens were so disastrous, that no earlier time of the day was judged proper. On the steps beforethe palace gate, he was unanimously saluted by the soldiers as theiremperor, and then carried in a litter to the camp; thence, aftermaking a short speech to the troops, into the senate-house, where hecontinued until the evening; of all the immense honors which wereheaped upon him, refusing none but the title of FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, on account of his youth. 

He began his reign with an ostentation of dutiful regard to the memoryof Claudius, whom he buried with the utmost pomp and magnificence, pronouncing the funeral oration himself, and then had him enrolledamong the gods. He paid likewise the highest honors to the memory ofhis father Domitius. He left the management of affairs, both publicand private, to his mother. The word which he gave the first day ofhis reign to the tribune on guard was, "The Best of Mothers, " andafterward he frequently appeared with her in the streets of Rome inher litter. He settled a colony at Antium, [152] in which he placedthe veteran soldiers belonging to the guards; and obliged several ofthe richest centurions of the first rank to transfer their residenceto that place; where he likewise made a noble harbor at a prodigiousexpense. 

To establish still further his character, he declared, "that hedesigned to govern according to the model of Augustus"; and omitted noopportunity of showing his generosity, clemency, and complaisance. Themore burdensome taxes he either entirely took off, or diminished. Therewards appointed for informers by the Papian law, he reduced to afourth part, and distributed to the people four hundred sesterces aman. To the noblest of the senators who were much reduced in theircircumstances, he granted annual allowances, in some cases as much asfive hundred thousand sesterces; and to the prætorian cohorts amonthly allowance of corn gratis. When called upon to subscribe thesentence, according to custom, of a criminal condemned to die, "Iwish, " said he, "I had never learned to read and write. " Hecontinually saluted people of the several orders by name, without aprompter. When the senate returned him their thanks for his goodgovernment, he replied to them, "It will be time enough to do so whenI shall have deserved it. " He admitted the common people to see himperform his exercises in the Campus Martius. He frequently declaimedin public, and recited verses of his own composing, not only at home, but in the theater; so much to the joy of all the people, that publicprayers were appointed to be put up to the gods upon that account; andthe verses which had been publicly read, were, after being written ingold letters, consecrated to Jupiter Capitolinus. 

He presented the people with a great number and variety of spectacles, as the Juvenal and Circensian games, stage-plays, and an exhibition ofgladiators. In the Juvenal, he even admitted senators and aged matronsto perform parts. In the Circensian games, he assigned the equestrianorder seats apart from the rest of the people, and had races performedby chariots drawn each by four camels. In the games which heinstituted for the eternal duration of the empire, and thereforeordered to be called _Maximi_, many of the senatorian and equestrianorder, of both sexes, performed. A distinguished Roman knightdescended on the stage by a rope, mounted on an elephant. A Romanplay, likewise, composed by Afranius, was brought upon the stage. Itwas entitled, "The Fire"; and in it the performers were allowed tocarry off, and to keep to themselves, the furniture of the house, which as the plot of the play required, was burned down in thetheater. Every day during the solemnity, many thousand articles of alldescriptions were thrown among the people to scramble for; such asfowls of different kinds, tickets for corn, clothes, gold, silver, gems, pearls, pictures, slaves, beasts of burden, wild beasts that hadbeen tamed; at last, ships, lots of houses, and lands, Were offered asprizes in a lottery. 

These games he beheld from the front of the proscenium. In the showof gladiators, which he exhibited in a wooden amphitheater, builtwithin a year in the district of the Campus Martius, he ordered thatnone should be slain, not even the condemned criminals employed in thecombats. He secured four hundred senators, and six hundred Romanknights, among whom were some of unbroken fortunes and unblemishedreputation, to act as gladiators. From the same orders, he engagedpersons to encounter wild beasts, and for various other services inthe theater. He presented the public with the representation of anaval fight, upon sea-water, with huge fishes swimming in it; as alsowith the Pyrrhic dance, performed by certain youths, to each of whom, after the performance was over, he granted the freedom of Rome. Duringthis diversion, a bull covered Pasiphaë, concealed within a woodenstatue of a cow, as many of the spectators believed. Icarus, upon hisfirst attempt to fly, fell on the stage close to the emperor'spavilion, and bespattered him with blood. For he very seldom presidedin the games, but used to view them reclining on a couch, at firstthrough some narrow apertures, but afterward with the _Podium_ quiteopen. He was the first who instituted, in imitation of the Greeks, atrial of skill in the three several exercises of music, wrestling, andhorse-racing, to be performed at Rome every five years, and which hecalled Neronia. Upon the dedication of his bath[153] and gymnasium, hefurnished the senate and the equestrian order with oil. He appointedas judges of the trial men of consular rank, chosen by lot, who eatwith the prætors. At this time he went down into the orchestra amongthe senators, and received the crown for the best performance in Latinprose and verse for which several persons of the greatest meritcontended, but they unanimously yielded to him. The crown for the bestperformer on the harp; being likewise awarded to him by the judges, hedevoutly saluted it, and ordered it to be carried to the statue ofAugustus. In the gymnastic exercises, which he presented in the Septa, while they were preparing the great sacrifice of an ox, he shaved hisbeard for the first time, and putting it up in a casket of goldstudded with pearls of great price, consecrated it to JupiterCapitolinus. He invited the Vestal Virgins to see the wrestlersperform, because, at Olympia, the priestesses of Ceres are allowed theprivilege of witnessing that exhibition. .. . 

Twice only he undertook any foreign expeditions, one to Alexandria, and the other to Achaia; but he abandoned the prosecution of theformer on the very day fixt for his departure, by being deterred bothby ill omens, and the hazard of the voyage. For while he was makingthe circuit of the temples, having seated himself in that of Vesta, when he attempted to rise, the skirt of his robe stuck fast; and hewas instantly seized with such a dimness in his eyes, that he couldnot see a yard before him. In Achaia, he attempted to make a cutthrough the Isthmus;[154] and, having made a speech encouraging hispretorians to set about the work, on a signal given by sound oftrumpet, he first broke ground with a spade, and carried off abasketful of earth upon his shoulders. He made preparations for anexpedition to the Pass of the Caspian mountains, forming a new legionout of his late levies in Italy, of men all six feet high, which hecalled the phalanx of Alexander the Great. These transactions, in partunexceptionable, and in part highly commendable, I have brought intoone view, in order to separate them from the scandalous and criminalpart of his conduct. 

III

THE DEATH OF NERO[155]

(68 A. D. )

He was terrified with manifest warnings, both old and new, arisingfrom dreams, auspices, and omens. He had never been used to dreambefore the murder of his mother. After that event, he fancied in hissleep that he was steering a ship, and that the rudder was forced fromhim: that he was dragged by his wife Octavia into a prodigiously darkplace; and was at one time covered over with a vast swarm of wingedants, and at another, surrounded by the national images which were setup near Pompey's theater, and hindered from advancing farther; that aSpanish jennet he was fond of, had his hinder parts so changed as toresemble those of an ape; and that having his head only leftunaltered, he neighed very harmoniously. The doors of the mausoleum ofAugustus flying open of themselves, there issued from it a voice, calling on him by name. The Lares being adorned with fresh garlands onthe calends (the first) of January, fell down during the preparationsfor sacrificing to them. While he was taking the omens, Sporuspresented him with a ring, the stone of which had carved upon it theRape of Proserpine. When a great multitude of several orders wasassembled, to attend at the solemnity of making vows to the gods, itwas a long time before the keys of the Capitol could be found. Andwhen, in a speech of his to the senate against Vindex, these wordswere read, "that the miscreants should be punished and soon make theend they merited, " they all cried out, "You will do it, Augustus. " Itwas likewise remarked, that the last tragic piece which he sung, wasOEdipus in Exile, and that he fell as he was repeating this verse:

 "Wife, mother, father, force me to my end. "

Meanwhile, on the arrival of the news that the rest of the armies haddeclared against him, he tore to piece the letters which weredelivered to him at dinner, overthrew the table, and dashed withviolence against the ground two favorite cups, which he calledHomer's, because some of that poet's verses were cut upon them. Thentaking from Locusta a dose of poison, which he put up in a golden box, he went into the Servilian gardens, and thence dispatching a trustyfreedman to Ostia, with orders to make ready a fleet, he endeavored toprevail with some tribunes and centurions of the prætorian guards toattend him in his flight; but part of them showing no greatinclination to comply, others absolutely refusing, and one of themcrying out aloud, "Say, is it then so sad a thing to die?"

he was in great perplexity whether he should submit himself toGalba, [156] or apply to the Parthians for protection, or else appearbefore the people drest in mourning, and, upon the rostra, in the mostpiteous manner, beg pardon for his past misdemeanors, and, if he couldnot prevail, request of them to grant him at least the government ofEgypt. A speech to this purpose was afterward found in hiswriting-case. But it is conjectured that he durst not venture uponthis project, for fear of being torn to pieces, before he could get tothe forum. 

Deferring, therefore, his resolution until the next day, he awokeabout midnight, and finding the guards withdrawn, he leapt out of bed, and sent round for his friends. But none of them vouchsafing anymessage in reply, he went with a few attendants to their houses. Thedoors being everywhere shut, and no one giving him any answer, hereturned to his bed-chamber; whence those who had the charge of it hadall now eloped; some having gone one way, and some another, carryingoff with them his bedding and box of poison. He then endeavored tofind Spicillus, the gladiator, or some one to kill him; but not beingable to procure any one, "What!" said he, "have I then neither friendnor foe?" and immediately ran out, as if he would throw himself intothe Tiber. 

But this furious impulse subsiding, he wished for some place ofprivacy, where he might collect his thoughts; and his freedman Phaonoffering him his country-house, between the Salarian and Nomentanroads, about four miles from the city, he mounted a horse, barefoot ashe was, and in his tunic, only slipping over it an old soiled cloak;with his head muffled up, and a handkerchief before his face, and fourpersons only to attend him, of whom Sporus was one. He was suddenlystruck with horror by an earthquake, and by a flash of lightning whichdarted full in his face, and heard from the neighboring camp theshouts of the soldiers, wishing his destruction, and prosperity toGalba. He also heard a traveler they met on the road, say, "They arein pursuit of Nero": and another ask, "Is there any news in the cityabout Nero?" Uncovering his face when his horse was started by thescent of a carcass which lay in the road, he was recognized andsaluted by an old soldier who had been discharged from the guards. When they came to the lane which turned up to the house, they quittedtheir horses, and with much difficulty he wound among bushes andbriars, and along a track through a bed of rushes, over which theyspread their cloaks for him to walk on. Having reached a wall at theback of the villa, Phaon advised him to hide himself a while in asand-pit; when he replied, "I will not go underground alive. " Stayingthere some little time, while preparations were made for bringing himprivately into the villa, he took up some water out of a neighboringtank in his hand, to drink, saying, "This is Nero's distilled water. "Then his cloak having been torn by the brambles, he pulled out thethorns which stuck in it. At last, being admitted, creeping upon hishands and knees, through a hole made for him in the wall, he lay downin the first closet he came to, upon a miserable pallet, with an oldcoverlet thrown over it; and being both hungry and thirsty, tho herefused some coarse bread that was brought him, he drank a little warmwater. 

All who surrounded him now pressing him to save himself from theindignities which were ready to befall him, he ordered a pit to besunk before his eyes, of the size of his body, and the bottom to becovered with pieces of marble put together, if any could be foundabout the house; and water and wood to be got ready for immediate useabout his corpse; weeping at everything that was done, and frequentlysaying, "What an artist is now about to perish!" Meanwhile, lettersbeing brought in by a servant belonging to Phaon, he snatched them outof his hand, and there read, "That he had been declared an enemy bythe senate, and that search was making for him, that he might bepunished according to the ancient custom of the Romans. " He theninquired what kind of punishment that was; and being told, that thepractise was to strip the criminal naked, and scourge him to deathwhile his neck was fastened within a forked stake, he was soterrified that he took up two daggers which he had brought with him, and after feeling the points of both, put them up again, saying, "Thefatal hour is not yet come. " One while, he begged of Sporus to beginto wail and lament; another while, he entreated that one of them wouldset him an example by killing himself; and then again, he condemnedhis own want of resolution in these words: "I yet live to my shame anddisgrace: this is not becoming for Nero: it is not becoming. Thououghtest in such circumstances to have a good heart: Come then:courage, man!" The horsemen who had received orders to bring him awayalive, were now approaching the house. As soon as he heard themcoming, he uttered with a trembling voice the following verse, "The noise of swift-heel'd steeds assails my ears";

he drove a dagger into his throat, being assisted in the act byEpaphroditus, [157] his secretary. A centurion bursting in just as hewas half-dead, and applying his cloak to the wound, pretending that hewas come to his assistance, he made no other reply but this, "'Tis toolate"; and "Is this your loyalty?" Immediately after pronouncing thesewords, he expired, with his eyes fixt and starting out of his head, tothe terror of all who beheld him. .. . 

In stature he was a little below the common height; his skin was fouland spotted; his hair inclined to yellow; his features were agreeable, rather than handsome; his eyes gray and dull, his neck was thick, hisbelly prominent, his legs very slender, his constitution sound. For, tho excessively luxurious in his mode of living, he had, in the courseof fourteen years, only three fits of sickness; which were so slight, that he neither forbore the use of wine, nor made any alteration inhis usual diet. In his dress, and the care of his person, he was socareless, that he had his hair cut in rings, one above another; andwhen in Achaia, he let it grow long behind; and he generally appearedin public in the loose dress which he used at table, with ahandkerchief about his neck and without either a girdle or shoes. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 146: From the translation by Alexander Thomson, revised byT. Forester. ]

[Footnote 147: Now Pozzuoli, which fronts on the bay, seven miles westof Naples. It still has ruins of an amphitheater, 482 feet by 384 insize. In Roman times it was as important commercial city. ]

[Footnote 148: Bovillæ is now known as Frattochio. It stands on theAppian Way, about nineteen miles from Rome. ]

[Footnote 149: This mausoleum was of white marble rising in terracesto a great height, and was crowned by a dome on which stood a statueof Augustus. Marcellus was the first person buried there. Its site wasnear the present Porta del Popolo. ]

[Footnote 150: From the translation by Alexander Thomson, revised byT. Forester. ]

[Footnote 151: The Emperor Claudius. ]

[Footnote 152: Nero was born in Antium, distant from Rome aboutthirty-eight miles. The Apollo Belvidere was found among its ruins. ]

[Footnote 153: These baths stood west of the Pantheon. Altho of greatextent, no remains of them now exist. ]

[Footnote 154: This scheme, which was a favorite one of many Romanemperors and even of Julius Cæsar, was not realized until our time. The Corinth canal was completed in 1893. ]

[Footnote 155: From the translation by Alexander Thomson, revised byT. Forester. ]

[Footnote 156: The Roman general, then leader of the revolt againstNero, who was afterward proclaimed Emperor. ]

[Footnote 157: Epaphroditus was the master of Epictetus, the Stoicphilosopher, before his freedom. ]

MARCUS AURELIUS

 Born in Rome in 121 A. D. ; died in 180; celebrated as emperor and Stoic philosopher; a nephew of Antoninus Pius, whom he succeeded as emperor, with Lucius Verus; after the death of Verus in 169 became sole emperor; his reign notable for wisdom and the happiness of the Roman people; wrote his "Meditations" in Greek; a bronze equestrian statue of him in Rome is the finest extant specimen of ancient bronze. 

HIS DEBT TO OTHERS[158]

1. From my grandfather Verus[159] [I learned] good morals and thegovernment of my temper. 

2. From the reputation and remembrance of my father, [160] modesty anda manly character. 

3. From my mother, [161] piety and beneficence, and abstinence, notonly from evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and, further, simplicity in my way of living, far removed from the habits of therich. 

4. From my great-grandfather, [162] not to have frequented publicschools, and to have had good teachers at home, and to know that onsuch things a man should spend liberally. 

5. From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue partyat the games in the circus, nor a partizan either of the Parmulariusor the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from him too I learnedendurance of labor and to want little, and to work with my own hands, and not to meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready tolisten to slander. 

6. From Diognetus, [163] not to busy myself about trifling things, andnot to give credit to what was said by miracle-workers and jugglersabout incantations and the driving away of demons and such things; andnot to breed quails [for fighting], not to give myself up passionatelyto such things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have becomeintimate with philosophy; and to have been a hearer, first ofBacchius, then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written dialogsin my youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whateverelse of the kind belongs to the Grecian discipline. 

7. From Rusticus[164] I received the impression that my characterrequired improvement and discipline; and from him I learned not to beled astray to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on speculativematters, nor to delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showingmyself off as a man who practises much discipline, or does benevolentacts in order to make a display; and to abstain from rhetoric, andpoetry, and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in myoutdoor dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and to write myletters with simplicity, like the letter which Rusticus wrote fromSinuessa to my mother; and with respect to those who have offended meby words, or done me wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified andreconciled, as soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled;and to read carefully, and not to be satisfied with a superficialunderstanding of a book; not hastily to give my assent to those whotalk overmuch; and I am indebted to him for being acquainted with thediscourses of Epictetus. 

8. From Apollonius[165] I learned freedom of will and undeviatingsteadiness of purpose; and to look to nothing else, not even for amoment, except to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp pains, on the occasion of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and tosee clearly in a living example that the same man can be both mostresolute and yielding, and not peevish in giving his instruction; andto have had before my eyes a man who clearly considered his experienceand his skill in expounding philosophical principles as the smallestof his merits; and from him I learned how to receive from friends whatare esteemed favors, without being either humbled by them or lettingthem pass unnoticed. 

9. From Sextus, [166] a benevolent disposition, and the example of afamily governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of livingconformably to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to lookcarefully after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorantpersons and those who form opinions without consideration: he had thepower of readily accommodating himself to all, so that intercoursewith him was more agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time hewas most highly venerated by those who associated with him; and he hadthe faculty both of discovering and ordering, in an intelligentmethodical way, the principles necessary for life; and he never showedanger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion, andalso most affectionate; and he could express approbation without noisydisplay, and he possessed much knowledge without ostentation. 

10. From Alexander[167] the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and not in a reproachful way to chide those who uttered any barbarousor solecistic or strange-sounding expression; but dexterously tointroduce the very expression which ought to have been used, and inthe way of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiryabout the thing itself, not about the word, or by some other fitsuggestion. 

11. From Fronto[168] I learned to observe what envy, and duplicity, and hypocrisy are in a tyrant, and that generally those among us whoare called Patricians are rather deficient in paternal affection. 

12. From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessityto say to any one, or to write in a letter, that I have no leisure;nor continually to excuse the neglect of duties required by ourrelation to those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations. 

13. From Catulus, [169] not to be indifferent when a friend findsfault, even if he should find fault without reason, but to try torestore him to his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak well ofteachers, as it is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to lovemy children truly. 

14. From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and tolove justice; and through him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea of a polity inwhich there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regardto equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kinglygovernment which respects most of all the freedom of the governed; Ilearned from him also consistency and undeviating steadiness in myregard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give toothers readily, and to cherish good hopes, and to believe that I amloved by my friends; and in him I observed no concealment of hisopinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his friendshad no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish, but it wasquite plain. 

15. From Maximus[170] I learned self-government, and not to be ledaside by anything; and cheerfulness in all circumstances as well as inillness; and a just admixture in the moral character of sweetness anddignity, and to do what was set before me without complaining. Iobserved that everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and thatin all that he did he never had any bad intention; and he never showedamazement and surprize, and was never in a hurry, and never put offdoing a thing, nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laughto disguise his vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he everpassionate or suspicious. He was accustomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive, and was free from all falsehood; and hepresented the appearance of a man who could not be diverted from rightrather than of a man who had been improved. I observed, too that noman could ever think that he was despised by Maximus, or ever ventureto think himself a better man. He had also the art of being humorousin an agreeable way. 

16. In my father[171] I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeableresolution in the things which he had determined after duedeliberation; and no vainglory in those things which men call honors;and a love of labor and perseverance; and a readiness to listen tothose who had anything to propose for the common weal; and undeviatingfirmness in giving to every man according to his deserts; and aknowledge derived from experience of the occasions for vigorous actionand for remission. And I observed that he had overcome all passionfor boys; and he considered himself no more than any other citizen;and he released his friends from all obligation to sup with him or toattend him of necessity when he went abroad, and those who had failedto accompany him, by reason of any urgent circumstances, always foundhim the same. I observed too his habit of careful inquiry in allmatters of deliberation, and his persistency, and that he never stopthis investigation through being satisfied with appearances which firstpresent themselves; and that his disposition was to keep his friends, and not to be soon tired of them, nor yet to be extravagant in hisaffection; and to be satisfied on all occasions, and cheerful; and toforesee things a long way off, and to provide for the smallest withoutdisplay; and to check immediately popular applause and all flattery;and to be ever watchful over the things which were necessary for theadministration of the empire, and to be a good manager of theexpenditure, and patiently to endure the blame which he got for suchconduct; and he was neither superstitious with respect to the gods, nor did he court men by gifts or by trying to please them, or byflattering the populace; but he showed sobriety in all things andfirmness, and never any mean thoughts or action, nor love ofnovelty. .. . 

17. To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, goodparents, a good sister, good teachers, good associates, good kinsmenand friends, nearly everything good. Further, I owe it to the godsthat I was not hurried into any offense against any of them, tho I hada disposition which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me todo something of this kind; but, through their favor, there never wassuch a concurrence of circumstances as put me to the trial. Further, Iam thankful to the gods that I was not longer brought up with mygrandfather's concubine, and that I preserved the flower of my youth, and that I did not make proof of my virility before the proper season, but even deferred the time; that I was subjected to a ruler and afather who was able to take away all pride from me, and to bring me tothe knowledge that it is possible for a man to live in a palacewithout wanting either guards or embroidered dresses, or torches andstatues, and such-like show; but that it is in such a man's power tobring himself very near to the fashion of a private person, withoutbeing for this reason either meaner in thought, or more remiss inaction, with respect to the things which must be done for the publicinterest in a manner that befits a ruler. I thank the gods for givingme such a brother, [172] who was able by his moral character to rouseme to vigilance over myself, and who, at the same time, pleased me byhis respect and affection; that my children have not been stupid nordeformed in body; that I did not make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies, in which I should perhaps have beencompletely engaged, if I had seen that I was making progress in them;that I made haste to place those who brought me up in the station ofhonor, which they seemed to desire, without putting them off withhope of my doing it some time after, because they were then stillyoung; that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, Maximus; that I receivedclear and frequent impressions about living according to nature, andwhat kind of a life that is, so that, so far as depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and inspirations, nothing hindered me fromforthwith living according to nature, tho I still fall short of itthrough my own fault, and through not observing the admonitions of thegods, and I may almost say, their direct instructions; that my bodyhas held out so long in such a kind of life; that I never touchedeither Benedicta or Theodotus; and that, after having fallen intoamatory passions, I was cured; and, tho I was often out of humor withRusticus, I never did anything of which I had occasion to repent;that, tho it was my mother's fate to die young, she spent the lastyears of her life with me; that, whenever I wished to help any man inhis need, or on any other occasion, I was never told that I had notthe means of doing it; and that to myself the same necessity neverhappened, to receive anything from another; that I have such a wife, so obedient, and so affectionate, and so simple; that I had abundanceof good masters for my children; and that remedies have been shown tome by dreams, both others, and against blood-spitting and giddiness;and that, when I had an inclination to philosophy, I did not fall intothe hands of any sophist. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 158: From the "Meditations. " Translated by George Long. ]

[Footnote 159: Annius Verus. ]

[Footnote 160: His father's name also was Annius Verus. ]

[Footnote 161: His mother was Domitia Calvilla, named also Lucilla. ]

[Footnote 162: His mother's grandfather, Catilius Severus, may bereferred to here. ]

[Footnote 163: The translator notes that, in the works of Justinus, isprinted a letter from one Diognetus, a Gentile, who wished very muchto know what the religion of the Christians was, and how it had taughtthem to believe neither in the gods of the Greeks nor thesuperstitions of the Jews. It has been suggested that this Diognetusmay have been the tutor of Marcus Aurelius. ]

[Footnote 164: Junius Rusticus, a Stoic philosopher, whom the authorhighly valued. ]

[Footnote 165: Apollonius of Chalcis, who came to Rome to be theauthor's preceptor. He was a rigid Stoic. ]

[Footnote 166: Sextus of Chæronea, a grandson, or nephew, ofPlutarch. ]

[Footnote 167: Alexander, a native of Phrygia, wrote a commentary onHomer. ]

[Footnote 168: Cornelius Fronto, a rhetorician and friend of theauthor. ]

[Footnote 169: Cinna Catulus, a Stoic. ]

[Footnote 170: Claudius Maximus, a Stoic, whom the author'spredecessor, Antoninus Pius, also valued highly. ]

[Footnote 171: The reference here made is to the Emperor AntoninusPius, who adopted him. ]

[Footnote 172: His brother by adoption, L. Verus, is probably referredto here. ]

END OF VOLUME II.