Part 65
Julius Cæsar was born on the 12th of July, 100 B.C. As to his intellectual character, Cæsar was gifted by nature with the most varied talents, and was distinguished by an extraordinary genius, and by attainments in very diversified pursuits. He was, at one and the same time, a general, a statesman, a lawgiver, a jurist, an orator, a poet, an historian, a philologer, a mathematician, and an architect. He seemed equally fitted to excel in all, and has given proofs that he would surpass most men in any subject to which he should devote the energies of his great mind; and Middleton says he was the only man in Rome capable of rivaling Cicero as an orator. During his whole busy life he found time for literary pursuits, and always took pleasure in the society and conversation of men of learning.
Cæsar wrote many works on different subjects, but they are now all lost but his "Commentaries." These relate the history of the first seven years of the Gallic War in seven books, and the Civil War down to the commencement of the Alexandrine in three books. The purity of his Latin, and the clearness and beauty of his style have rendered his "Commentaries" a most popular and desirable text book for students of the Latin language.
A most important change was introduced by him in the reformation of the calendar, which was not only of vast importance to his country and to the civilized world, but its benefits have extended to the present day. What consummate folly, then, to say nothing of the wickedness, was displayed by the conspirators who put him to death; for instead of the wise, the noble, the magnanimous, they exalted to supreme power one of the basest men in all Rome--Augustus, who, as one of the second Triumvirate, consented to the murder of his intimate and noble friend, Cicero.
[Illustration: JULIUS CÆSAR. (_From an Ancient Sculpturing._)]
THE GERMANS.
(_By Julius Cæsar._)
The Germans differ much from these usages, for they have neither Druids to preside over sacred offices, nor do they pay great regard to sacrifices. They rank in the number of the gods those alone whom they behold, and by whose instrumentality they are obviously benefited, namely, the sun, fire, and the moon; they have not heard of the other deities even by report. Their whole life is occupied in hunting and in the pursuits of the military art; from childhood they devote themselves to fatigue and hardships. Those who have remained chaste for the longest time receive the greatest commendation among their people; they think that by this the growth is promoted, by this the physical powers are increased and the sinews are strengthened.
They do not pay much attention to agriculture, and a large portion of their food consists in milk, cheese, and flesh; nor has any one a fixed quantity of land or his own individual limits; but the magistrates and the leading men each year apportion to the tribes and families, who have united together, as much land as, and in the place which, they think proper, and the year after compel them to remove elsewhere. For this enactment they advance many reasons--lest seduced by long-continued custom, they may exchange their ardor in the waging of war for agriculture; lest they may be anxious to acquire extensive estates, and the more powerful drive the weaker from their possessions; lest they construct their houses with too great a desire to avoid cold and heat; lest the desire of wealth spring up, from which cause divisions and discords arise; and that they may keep the common people in a contented state of mind, when each sees his own means placed on an equality with those of the most powerful.
It is the greatest glory to the several states to have as wide deserts as possible around them, their frontiers having been laid waste. They consider this the real evidence of their prowess, that their neighbors shall be driven out of their lands and abandon them, and that no one dare settle near them; at the same time they think that they shall be on that account the more secure, because they have removed the apprehension of a sudden incursion. When a state either repels war waged against it, or wages it against another, magistrates are chosen to preside over that war with such authority that they have power of life and death. In peace there is no common magistrate, but the chiefs of provinces and cantons administer justice and determine controversies among their own people. Robberies which are committed beyond the boundaries of each state bear no infamy, and they avow that these are committed for the purpose of disciplining their youth and of preventing sloth. And when any of their chiefs has said in an assembly "that he will be their leader, let those who are willing to follow give in their names," they who approve of both the enterprise and the man arise and promise their assistance and are applauded by the people; such of them as have not followed him are accounted in the number of deserters and traitors, and confidence in all matters is afterwards refused them. To injure guests they regard as impious; they defend from wrong those who have come to them for any purpose whatever, and esteem them inviolable; to them the houses of all are open and maintenance is freely supplied.
BATTLE OF PHARSALIA.
(_By Julius Cæsar._)
There was so much space left between the two lines as sufficed for the onset of the hostile armies; but Pompey had ordered his soldiers to await Cæsar's attack, and not to advance from their position, or suffer their line to be put into disorder. And he is said to have done this by the advice of Caius Triarius, that the impetuosity of the charge of Cæsar's soldiers might be checked, and their line broken, and that Pompey's troops, remaining in their ranks, might attack them while in disorder; and he thought that the javelins would fall with less force if the soldiers were kept in their ground, than if they met them in their course; at the same time he trusted that Cæsar's soldiers, after running over double the usual ground, would become weary and exhausted by the fatigue. But to me Pompey seems to have acted without sufficient reason; for there is a certain impetuosity of spirit and an alacrity implanted by nature in the hearts of all men, which is inflamed by a desire to meet the foe. This a general should endeavor not to repress, but to increase; nor was it a vain institution of our ancestors that the trumpets should sound on all sides, and a general shout be raised; by which they imagined that the enemy were struck with terror, and their own army inspired with courage.
But our men, when the signal was given, rushed forward with their javelins ready to be launched, but perceiving that Pompey's men did not run to meet their charge, having acquired experience by custom, and being practiced in former battles, they of their own accord repressed their speed, and halted almost midway, that they might not come up with the enemy when their strength was exhausted, and after a short respite they again renewed their course, and threw their javelins, and instantly drew their swords, as Cæsar had ordered them. Nor did Pompey's men fail in this crisis, for they received our javelins, stood our charge, and maintained their ranks; and having launched their javelins, had recourse to their swords. At the same time Pompey's horse, according to their orders, rushed out at once from 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 pressed them more vigorously, and began to file off in troops, and flank our army. When Cæsar perceived this, he gave the signal to his fourth line, which he had formed of the six cohorts. They instantly rushed forward and charged Pompey's horse with such fury that not a man of them stood; but all wheeling about, not only quitted their post, but galloped forward to seek a refuge in the highest mountains. By their retreat the archers and slingers, being left destitute and defenseless, were all cut to pieces. The cohorts, pursuing their success, wheeled about upon Pompey's left wing, whilst his infantry still continued to make battle, and attacked them in the rear.
At the same time Cæsar ordered his third line to advance, which till then had not been engaged, but had kept their post. Thus, new and fresh troops having come to the assistance of the fatigued, and others having made an attack on their rear, Pompey's men were not able to maintain their ground, but all fled, nor was Cæsar deceived in his opinion that the victory, as he had declared in his speech to his soldiers, must have its beginning from those six cohorts, which he had placed as a fourth line to oppose the horse. For by them the cavalry were routed; by them the archers and slingers were cut to pieces; by them the left wing of Pompey's army was surrounded, and obliged to be the first to flee. But when Pompey saw his cavalry routed, and that part of his army on which he reposed his greatest hopes thrown into confusion, despairing of the rest, he quitted the field, and retreated straightway 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 it with diligence, if any danger should threaten it; I will visit the other gates, and encourage the guards of the camp." Having thus said, he retired into his tent in utter despair, yet anxiously waiting the issue.
Cæsar having forced the Pompeians to flee into their entrenchment, and thinking that he ought not to allow them any respite to recover from their fright, exhorted his soldiers to take advantage of fortune's kindness, and to attack the camp. Though they were fatigued by the intense heat, for the battle had continued till mid-day, yet, being prepared to undergo any labor, they cheerfully obeyed his command. The camp was bravely defended by the cohorts which had been left to guard it, but with much more spirit by the Thracians and foreign auxiliaries. For the soldiers who had fled for refuge to it from the field of battle, affrighted and exhausted by fatigue, having thrown away their arms and military standards, had their thoughts more engaged on their further escape than on the defense of the camp. Nor could the troops who were posted on the battlements long withstand the immense number of our darts, but fainting under their wounds, quitted the place, and under the conduct of their centurions and tribunes, fled, without stopping, to the high mountains which joined the camp.
In Pompey's camp you might see arbors in which tables were laid; a large quantity of plate set out; the floors of the tents covered with fresh sods; the tents of Lucius Lentulus and others shaded with ivy; and many other things which were proofs of excessive luxury, and a confidence of victory; so that it might readily be inferred, that they had no apprehensions of the issue of the day, as they indulged themselves in unnecessary pleasures, and yet upbraided with luxury Cæsar's army, distressed and suffering troops, who had always been in want of common necessaries. Pompey, as soon as our men had forced the trenches, mounting his horse, and stripping off his general's habit, went hastily out of the back gate of the camp, and galloped with all speed to Larissa. Nor did he stop there, but with the same dispatch, collecting a few of his flying troops, and halting neither day nor night, he arrived at the sea-side, attended by only thirty horses, and went on board a victualing barque, often complaining, as we have been told, that he had been so deceived in his expectation, that he was almost persuaded that he had been betrayed by those from whom he had expected victory, as they began the flight.
VIRGIL.
Virgil was born October 15, 70 B.C., and died 19 B.C. His father was an opulent farmer, and gave his son a liberal Greek and Latin education. His principal works were the _Georgica_ and the _Æneid_. The _Georgica_ (Georgics), or "Agricultural Poems," is a didactic poem in four books, dedicated to Mæcenas. In the first book he treats of the cultivation of the soil; in the second, of fruit trees; in the third, of horses and other cattle, and in the fourth, of bees. It gives us the most finished specimen of the Latin hexameter which we have. It is acknowledged by scholars to stand at the head of all Virgil's works, and is certainly the most elaborate and extraordinary instance of power in embellishing a most barren subject which human genius has ever afforded. The commonest precepts of farming are delivered with an elegance which could scarcely be attained by a poet who should endeavor to clothe in verse the sublimest maxims of philosophy.
At what time Virgil projected the _Æneid_ is uncertain, but from a very early age he appears to have had a strong desire of composing an epic poem which would be an enduring monument of his fame. And he has succeeded, for this poem is ranked as one of the great epics of the world. It is divided into twelve books, and originates from an old Roman tradition that Æneas and his company of Trojans settled in Italy, and founded the Roman nation.
PRAISE OF RURAL LIFE.
(_By Virgil._)
Thrice happy swains! whom genuine pleasures bless, If they but knew and felt their happiness! From wars and discord far, and public strife, Earth with salubrious fruits supports their life; Tho' high-arch'd domes, tho' marble halls they want, And columns cased in gold and elephant, In awful ranks where brazen statues stand, The polish'd works of Grecia's skillful hand; Nor dazzling palace view, whose portals proud Each morning vomit out the cringing crowd; Nor wear the tissu'd garment's cumb'rous pride, Nor seek soft wool in Syrian purple dy'd, Nor with fantastic luxury defile The native sweetness of the liquid oil; Yet calm content, secure from guilty cares, Yet home-felt pleasure, peace, and rest, are theirs; Leisure and ease, in groves, and cooling vales, Grottoes, and bubbling brooks, and darksome dales; The lowing oxen, and the bleating sheep, And under branching trees delicious sleep! There forests, lawns, and haunts of beasts abound, There youth is temperate, and laborious found; There altars and the righteous gods are fear'd, And aged sires by duteous sons rever'd. There Justice linger'd ere she fled mankind, And left some traces of her reign behind!
_Georgics II. Warton._
EMPLOYMENTS OF THE BEE.
(_By Virgil._)
If all things with great we may compare, Such are the bees, and such their busy care: Studious of honey, each in his degree, The youthful swain, the grave, experienced bee; That in the field; this in affairs of state, Employed at home, abides within the gate, To fortify the combs, to build the wall, To prop the ruins, lest the fabric fall: But late at night, with weary pinions come The laboring youth, and heavy laden home. Plains, meads, and orchards, all the day he plies, The gleans of yellow thyme distend his thighs: He spoils the saffron flowers, he sips the blues Of violets, wilding blooms, and willow dews. Their toil is common, common is their sleep; They shake their wings when morn begins to peep; Rush through the city gates without delay, Nor ends their work but with declining day: Then, having spent the last remains of light, They give their bodies due repose at night; When hollow murmurs of their evening bells Dismiss the sleepy swains, and toll them to their cells.
_Georgics IV. Dryden._
[Illustration: VIRGIL AND HORACE.]
PUNISHMENTS IN HELL.
(_By Virgil._)
Now to the left, Æneas darts his eyes, Where lofty walls with tripple ramparts rise. There rolls swift Phlegethon, with thund'ring sound, His broken rocks, and whirls his surges round. On mighty columns rais'd, sublime are hung The massy gates, impenetrably strong. In vain would men, in vain would gods essay, To hew the beams of adamant away. Here rose an iron tow'r; before the gate, By night and day, a wakeful fury sate, The pale Tisiphone; a robe she wore, With all the pomp of horror, dy'd in gore. Here the loud scourge and louder voice of pain, The crashing fetter, and the ratt'ling chain. Strike the great hero with the frightful sound, The hoarse, rough, mingled din, that thunders round: Oh! whence that peal of groans? what pains are those? What crimes could merit such stupendous woes? Thus she--brave guardian of the Trojan state, None that are pure must pass that dreadful gate. When plac'd by Hecat o'er Avernus' woods, I learnt the secrets of those dire abodes, With all the tortures of the vengeful gods. Here Rhadamanthus holds his awful reign, Hears and condemns the trembling impious train. Those hidden crimes the wretch till death supprest, With mingled joy and horror in his breast, The stern dread judge commands him to display, And lays the guilty secrets bare to-day; Her lash Tisiphone that moment shakes; The ghost she scourges with a thousand snakes; Then to her aid, with many a thund'ring yell, Calls her dire sisters from the gulfs of hell. Near by the mighty Tityus I beheld, Earth's mighty giant son, stretch'd o'er the infernal field; He cover'd nine large acres as he lay, While with fierce screams a vulture tore away His liver for her food, and scoop'd the smoking prey; Plunged deep her bloody beak, nor plung'd in vain, For still the fruitful fibres spring again, Swell, and renew th' enormous monster's pain, She dwells forever in his roomy breast, Nor gives the roaring fiend a moment's rest; But still th' immortal prey supplies th' immortal feast. Need I the Lapiths' horrid pains relate, Ixion's torments, or Perithous' fate? On high a tottering rocky fragment spreads, Projects in air, and trembles o'er their heads. Stretch'd on the couch, they see with longing eyes In regal pomp successive banquets rise, While lucid columns, glorious to behold, Support th' imperial canopies of gold. The queen of furies, a tremendous guest, Sits by their side, and guards the tempting feast, Which if they touch, her dreadful torch she rears, Flames in their eyes, and thunders in their ears They that on earth had low pursuits in view, Their brethren hated, or their parents slew, And, still more numerous, those who swelled their store, But ne'er reliev'd their kindred or the poor; Or in a cause unrighteous fought and bled; Or perish'd in the foul adulterous bed; Or broke the ties of faith with base deceit; Imprison'd deep their destin'd torments wait. But what their torments, seek not thou to know, Or the dire sentence of their endless wo. Some roll a stone, rebounding down the hill, Some hang suspended on the whirling wheel; There Theseus groans in pain that ne'er expire, Chain'd down forever in a chair of fire. There Phlegyas feels unutterable wo, And roars incessant thro' the shades below; Be just, ye mortals! by these torments aw'd, These dreadful torments, not to scorn a god. This wretch his country to a tyrant sold, And barter'd glorious liberty for gold. Laws for a bribe he past, but past in vain, For those same laws a bribe repeal'd again. To some enormous crimes they all aspir'd; All feel the torments that those crimes requir'd! Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, A voice of brass, and adamantine lungs, Not half the mighty scene could I disclose, Repeat their crimes, or count their dreadful woes!
_Æneid VI. Pitt._
HORACE.
Horace was born 65 B.C. and died 8 B.C. His father gave him a good education. About the age of seventeen he lost his father, and afterwards his property was confiscated. He had to write for bread--_Paupertas impulit audax ut versus facerem_--and in so doing gained much reputation, and sufficient means to purchase the place of scribe in the Quæstor's office. He now made his acquaintance with Virgil and Varius, and by them was introduced to that munificent patron of scholars, Mæcenas, who gave to our poet a place next to his heart, while he, in return, is never weary of acknowledging how much he owes to his illustrious friend.
The following happy remarks on the Roman Satirists are by Professor Sanborn, formerly Professor of Latin in Dartmouth College, and now in the University of St. Louis: "The principal Roman Satirists were Horace, Juvenal and Persius. Horace is merry; Persius serious; Juvenal indignant. Thus, wit, philosophy and lofty scorn mark their respective pages. The satire of Horace was playful and good natured. His arrows were always dipped in oil. He was a fine specimen of an accomplished gentleman. His sentiments were evidently modified by his associates. He was an Epicurean and a stoic by turns. He commended and ridiculed both sects. He practiced economy and praised liberality. He lived temperate, and sang the praises of festivity. He was the favorite of the court and paid for its patronage in compliments and panegyrics, unsurpassed in delicacy of sentiment and beauty of expression. Horace is every man's companion. He has a word of advice and admonition for all. His criticisms constitute most approved canons of the rhetorician; his sage reflections adorn the page of the moralist; his humor and wit give point and force to the satirist, and his graver maxims are not despised by the Christian philosopher. Juvenal is fierce and denunciatory. His characteristics are energy, force, and indignation; his weapons are irony, wit and sarcasm; he is a decided character, and you must yield and submit, or resist. His denunciations of vice are startling. He hated the Greeks, the aristocracy and woman with intense hatred. No author has written with such terrible bitterness of the sex. Unlike other satirists, he never relents. His arrow is ever on the string, and whatever wears the guise of woman is his game. The most celebrated of the modern imitators of Horace and Juvenal are Swift and Pope."
The Odes, Satires and Epistles are his chief productions.
TO LICINIUS.
(_By Horace._)
Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach So shalt thou live beyond the reach Of adverse Fortune's power; Not always tempt the distant deep, Nor always timorously creep Along the treacherous shore.
He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door, Embittering all his state.
The tallest pines feel most the power Of wintry blasts; the loftiest tower Comes heaviest to the ground; The bolts that spare the mountain's side, His cloud-capt eminence divide, And spread the ruin round.
The well-inform'd philosopher Rejoices with an wholesome fear, And hopes, in spite of pain; If Winter bellow from the north, Soon the sweet Spring comes dancing forth, And Nature laughs again.
What if thine heaven be overcast? The dark appearance will not last; Expect a brighter sky; The god that strings the silver bow, Awakes sometimes the Muses, too, And lays his arrows by.
If hindrances obstruct thy way, Thy magnanimity display, And let thy strength be seen; But oh! if Fortune fill thy sail With more than a propitious gale, Take half thy canvas in.
_Cowper._
TO PYRRHA.
(_By Horace._)