Part 13

By a _lex Julia_, the courts of justice had been entirely restored into the hands of the knights. This law he maintained; but he prodigiously increased the lists of the jury (the decuries), inasmuch as for petty cases he admitted persons of less fortune than the _census equester_ required.

Italy had accidentally grown into one mass. At first, it had not reached beyond the south; but by little and little it had been stretched further to Cisalpine Gaul: Etruria and Umbria thus belonged to it, whilst the Rubicon was the boundary between it and the provinces. Augustus now extended it, as was right, to the Alps, and this Italy he divided into a number of regions. What was the meaning of these regions, cannot be made out; but one would almost believe that they must have had some reference to the quæstors, of whom, at that time, there were forty to collect the revenue, and also ten prætors. Whether presidents besides were given to such districts, like the consulars appointed by Hadrian, and the _correctores_ under Severus; is a thing of which there is no trace to be met with in the reigns of Augustus and his immediate successors. By this I do not, however, mean to say, that they had not some sort of authorities over them; for the supposition that the region must have had a corresponding office is so very natural. At a later period, we find in inscriptions and in books very many notices, which bear upon the subject; but at this time, none whatever.

Augustus had a huge private fortune. He possessed whole principalities, of which Josephus gives us a very striking example in the will of Herod, who bequeathed his property to the family of the Cæsars: such kings and tetrarchs very often left all that they had to the emperors. The stewards of the countries which belonged to these last, were the _procuratores Cæsaris_: they were generally knights, but never senators; they might even be imperial freedmen, though perhaps this was not yet the case under Augustus. In the provinces, the emperor was so absolute, that Augustus, for instance, changed the whole registration of land in Gaul without asking any body’s leave, were it only for form’s sake. The soldiers all swore fealty to the emperor, certainly also to the _imperium populi Romani_; but no one was bound to the consul. The establishment of the prætorian cohorts was no innovation. There had been such troops from the earliest times, being a sort of guards or orderlies, like the “_guides des généraux_” during the French revolution: they are to be met with in the Punic wars, and also in the civil wars, on both sides; and they had arisen out of the former _evocati_. Augustus had taken them back with him, and had founded twenty-eight military colonies, as a means of checking any popular movement; and that he might likewise curb these veterans themselves, he formed the _cohortes prætoriæ_, which in Italy represented in fact the armed Roman people: they were chiefly enlisted, or raised by conscription, from the districts of Latium which had been the strongholds of the Marian party. At first, he kept them scattered in Italy, so as to cause no alarm; but by degrees they were drawn nearer and nearer, until at last the _castrum prætorium_ before the city was built. Under Augustus there were about eight thousand of them.

Formerly the provincials were called to arms only in cases when a province was threatened; henceforth from the subjects of all the provinces of the emperor, many of whom had the lesser Roman franchise, cohorts were formed, which we hear of under the name of _auxilia_, and which may have made up about the half of the army. _Socii_ are no more spoken of at all. The legions, with regard to the organization of which in those days one is quite in the dark, had to serve a regular term of sixteen years; afterwards, they still remained for some time under the _vexilla_ as a reserve, and then they were to have land assigned them. This system of allotments was Augustus’ work, as was also the increase of pay. Hitherto the soldiers had got the old pay of a hundred and twenty _denarii_, or twelve hundred _asses_, yearly; Cæsar doubled, and Augustus trebled it. This was, after all, not much, about sixty dollars of our money; and as the price of everything at Rome had then immensely risen, it was not a large pay for fellows like these who had the throne in their gift. Still, owing to the number of soldiers, it was a burthen which the state could hardly bear, as even Tiberius, who was a very able ruler, already acknowledged.

LITERATURE.

Roman literature reached perfection through Cicero and with him, even as our own did through Lessing, and we may almost set down the year 680, when Cicero was in the prime of his life, as the epoch in which it made this step; the language shared likewise in this decisive advance. However much there may be of the beautiful in earlier times, yet there is always something wanting, even in Cicero’s first writings; but all that was coarse and clumsy is now thrown off, and nothing remains but the pure and polished language. With the greatest justice, the Latin of Cicero has been acknowledged as the very best: it is, after all, the language which was spoken by the well educated in his day, and had we more of Cornelius Nepos than the _Vita Attici_, there again we should also find Ciceronian latinity. As yet, Latin prose had been altogether weak and unequal, being sometimes spun out, and sometimes cramped: Cicero alone gave it its perfection. His influence also on his contemporaries is incalculable: there is no doubt but that the finish of Cæsar’s style is to be attributed to him and to his age.

There was then a host of distinguished writers and men of genius; and though of some of them we know but little, they are not for that the less eminent. I do not, however, mean to say that all who at that time were remarkable in literature, are to be reckoned among the classical writers; some of them, especially the older contemporaries of Cicero, are quite in the spirit of the earlier age: thus among us, Winkelmann, as to his style, belongs to the period before Lessing. So likewise Varro, who for his immense learning and reading in Roman matters—in what was Greek, this may not have been so great—had such a high renown, is, in all that is left of him, not at all like one who lived in the same age with Cicero: he is as strong a contrast to him as Mascov, Mosheim, and Reimarus were to Lessing. Nigidius Figulus also was very likely a writer of the same kind. The real bloom of Roman literature consisted of men who were younger than Cicero, and whom he beheld springing up around him. One of these was the orator M. Cælius Rufus, whom we may still judge of even from his letters: his language was like that of Cicero for excellence. Curio’s letters do not make the same impression upon me: yet they are not of importance enough for one to be able to give a positive opinion about them, and I would rather trust Cicero’s own judgment, who assigns him a very high rank. C. Licinius Calvus, a contemporary of both, was an orator and a poet as well: him also Cicero greatly esteemed; and if Quintilian does not think favourably of him, Tacitus, on the other hand, says that he really had talent as an orator.[30] He died young. Sallust was considerably younger than Cicero, and of the same age with Cælius, Calvus, and Curio: he went his own way, living in the past, and the language and style of his contemporaries remained foreign to him. As he was not conversant with the language as it was spoken, it is no wonder that his style has quite a different air from what we find in theirs: as an historian, he is all that one could wish. That Priscian charges some of those men with archaisms, is nothing at all against them.[31]

This was truly the age of the poets. Living at the same time, but not quite of the same standing, were Lucretius, Catullus, and Calvus, the rival of Catullus, the greatest poets of that day. Lucretius, whom men have long tried to exclude from the poets altogether, is now at length acknowledged in his high excellence as such; not but what, had he chosen a more favourable theme than that wretched philosophical system, he might have done far greater things. But the greatest poet Rome ever had, is Catullus. He never strains after words or expressions: poetry flows from his tongue, it is with him the very language which the impulse of the moment brings out; every thought, every word of his, is the expression of what he actually feels. He has the same perfections as the Greek Lyric poets down to Sophocles, and is fully equal to them. Other poets there were, who, though undoubtedly his inferiors, were still eminent. If we had C. Helvius Cinna; if we had other poems than those still extant of Valerius Cato (whose _Diræ_ are still very doubtful); if we had Valgius,[32] and Ticida; we should read them with considerable pleasure, we should acknowledge still more that the age was rich in distinguished men, even though they were not equal to Catullus: and this is certainly more than can be said of any other period. Poetry is now becoming inured to the strict rules of metrical forms: the greater poems are composed in hexameters; the smaller lyric pieces, in foreign or Greek measures; and the old Latin forms are laid aside. The hexameter is rightly constructed, and the _cæsuræ_ carefully observed: in trifles only, the Roman poets of those times have some peculiarities to which they take a fancy; as for instance, in the construction of the pentameter. Dec. Laberius, the well known composer of mimes, no doubt was very original: this sort of poetry consisted very much of improvisation, being like the _Sermones_ of Horace. Furius Bibaculus was very pleasing; Varro Atacinus, the translator of Apolonius Rhodius, is by no means to be despised. Comedy had quite gone down, not even mediocrities being mentioned.

This full bloom of poetry fades away at the time of Cæsar and Cicero’s death, and a new generation takes the place of the old one. Few eloquent men of that period survive; Asinius Pollio, for example, who when Cæsar died, was about thirty-four years of age, and therefore had already formed his mind. As a writer, however, he belongs to a somewhat later date, after the war of Brundusium; for it was not till then that he had completely retired from public life. From the fragments of him in Seneca the father, we may gather that his style was very unequal, but that he sometimes could write very well, especially when impelled by passion; as he did with justice against the Pompeians, and with great injustice against Cicero. His was a soured and embittered nature, without any kindly feelings. Another skilful orator was Munatius Plancus. Hirtius indeed still belongs to the former age, but is not the less excellent: he is a most elegant writer, although his whole life was spent in the midst of arms. Asinius Pollio is the connecting link between the two generations (which might be called _proventus_,[33] φορά); just as Lessing is between Klopstock, Winkelmann, Kant, Kästner, Gellert, Cramer, on the one side, and Göthe, Voss, Friederich Leopold von Stolberg on the other, not reacting upon those who were older than himself, but paving the way for the rising generation. Thus Asinius stands between the time of Cicero and Virgil; for the latter may indeed be mentioned as his contemporary.

It is a very just remark, that it is incorrect to speak, as we do in Germany, of the Augustean age; we ought only to call it the Augustan age, Αὐγούστειοι being met with in Greek authors[34] only. Except in the case of Livy, prose had entirely fallen off: besides him, there was only Messalla, of whom, however, nothing is left to us. And the cause of this lay in the state of things at that time, as is shown by Tacitus in his excellent _Dialogus de Oratoribus_. Prose was in times of old always developed by oratory; it was poor as soon as people ceased to speak in public. For this, however, there was no more a free opportunity: the _rostra_ were dumb, the _curia_ was hushed, and if there were still any speeches, they were only λόγοι ἐπιδεικτικοί,—dismal signs of the times! The only field therefore for prose was history, which was written by Asinius Pollio and Livy: Valerius Messalla alone, who was much older than Asinius, and about the same standing as Virgil, was of any importance as an orator. It may also be that he was more remarkable for his nobleness of mind and his personal excellence, than for extraordinary talent.

To the first half of the reign of Augustus, belong the brilliant days of Virgil and Horace, and of many other contemporaries of less eminence. In Horace poetry is still lyric; but afterwards it loses this character. It adapts itself more and more to the Greek; the old licences of metre are altogether set aside, and the Greek being law in everything, it is a mere translating of the Greek: it is Grecian poetry in Latin words. The language—except in particular cases, for the sake of embellishment,—carefully eschews every obsolete phrase, and the written phraseology is in perfect harmony with the spoken one. Though Virgil says _olli_, _aulai_, he never does so in the Bucolics and Georgics, but in the Æneid; and that from the same grammatical reasons which the Alexandrian writers had for their rules for the Greek epic style.

Virgil was born on the fifteenth of October 682, and he died in 733, on the twenty-second of September; Horace was born on the eighth of December 687, and he died the twenty-seventh of November 744. We cannot allow of the adoration with which the later Romans regarded Virgil: he is wanting in that fertility and richness of invention which his theme required. His Eclogues are far from being a happy imitation of Theocritus, as they try to produce something on the Roman soil which could not be there. Theocritus’ shepherds have sprung from true Siculian, and not from Greek materials; they bear the stamp of genuine nationality: Daphnis is a Sicilian hero. But when Virgil wishes to transfer them to the sky of Lombardy, he places Greek names and Greek peculiarities in a spot where they could not exist at all. More happy is his didactic poem on husbandry: he keeps himself in a middle sphere, and one cannot speak otherwise than in its praise. The whole of the Æneid, from the beginning to the end, is a misconceived idea: but this does not prevent its being full of beauties in its details; and it also displays a learning from which the historian can never glean too much. No epic poem can be successful, unless it be a lively, hearty narrative of some achievement of which the whole story has become a kind of national heir-loom. It is a silly remark of a still living historian, that an epic poem would never tell with the people, unless the subject were sufficiently old: if the events are such as every one knows, and as can be made to receive a certain impress of originality without losing their own distinguishing character, then they are fit for epic poetry, and for the arts in general. This is the reason why subjects from Sacred History are so well adapted for the historical painter: it is because the beholder understands at once what the artist wants to represent, and is able to bring to mind the whole of the associations with which the picture is connected. Subjects from mythology are far more hazardous, inasmuch indeed as the artist himself, and with him the many, are too little acquainted with them, and they cannot therefore but seem somewhat unmeaning: in ancient times, however, such mythological subjects were as much household words among the people as the Sacred History is with us. Generally known events in modern history would now be perfectly well suited to be dealt with by the artist. So long as in a nation there be legends which every body is sure to sing and know by heart, there will always be something which one may choose as one thinks good, and pick out as the subject for an epic poem. Thus the epos makes choice of a single part, whilst the cyclic poem, on the other hand, takes in a whole series of tales. Such is the wretched Pharsalia of Lucan. Virgil took a Latin story, and dove-tailed it into Greek legends; whereas had he wanted to have anything out of the Roman legends, he ought to have treated it in the Italian style: this might indeed have been very difficult, as that kind of knowledge was no longer general; but it would have been the only means of making a poem with much life in it. Virgil is one of the remarkable instances of the way in which a man can miss his true calling. His was lyric poetry. The little poem on the _Villa Syronis_ and the _Si mihi susceptum fuerit decurrere munus_, show that he would have been a poet like Catullus, had he not made the mistake of wishing to write nothing but Grecian-Latin poems. It is a pity that posterity so much overrated the very work which was but a failure; yet we may well account for it, as people were not able to compare it with Homer, whom they did not know at all, and its extraordinary beauties had their full effect. Nor was the superiority of Catullus acknowledged until the end of the eighteenth century. The first who spoke without prejudice about Virgil, was Jeremy Markland: amidst a terrible outcry, as if he had committed high treason, he openly said what he thought. It was certainly no affectation that Virgil wished to burn the Æneid; that poem was the task of his life, and he had in his last moments a feeling that it was a failure. I am glad that he did not do so; but still we must in all things learn to keep our judgment free, and even then we cannot but love and honour him. It may be that the tomb on Posilipo, which during the whole of the middle ages was already shown as that of Virgil,—yet I know not why,—is not his, and that the laurel on it may have been replanted many a time; but notwithstanding, I have gone to see it as a pilgrim, and the laurel branches which I also plucked off at his grave, are dear to me as relics.

Venusia, the birthplace of Horace, was a Latin colony, founded between the third Samnite war and that of Pyrrhus. This town, which had always been true to the Romans, is mentioned by Appian (whose accounts of this are very trustworthy) among those which revolted in the Social War: it must therefore have lost its Latin character, and, like the other peoples in those parts, have rather become Lucanian and Oscan in feeling. Horace says, that he went to school with the sons of centurions: this is a hint that Venusia must have been a military colony, and in fact one of Sylla’s, which may be accounted for by that rebellion. Moreover, when Horace wrote the second book of his _Sermones_, a new military colony must have been established there; for Ofellus, whom Horace when a boy had still seen well off, had had his allotment of land given away to a soldier. Horace’s father was a _libertinus_; the cognomen of Flaccus, if the father had it as well, would prove that he was not of foreign, but of Italian race: his father may indeed have been taken prisoner in the Social War, and sold for a slave; for otherwise the children of freedmen have different names. The father gave his son a very liberal education: when Brutus came to Greece, Horace, who was twenty-two years old, was staying at Athens whither his father had sent him. He with several other young Romans entered the army, and, what was an immense honour for the son of a freedman, was promoted by Brutus to be a tribune. This raised a good deal of envy; but it shows him to have been a distinguished young man, as there were at that time not more than six tribunes to every legion. After the battle of Philippi, he made his escape like many others, and was perhaps under the protection of Messalla; then he went to Rome, where he was recommended to Mæcenas, who soon became exceedingly fond of him, interesting himself for him even more than he did for Virgil: this kindness of Mæcenas, Horace received with great gratitude. Mæcenas made him a present of a small farm on the Sabine hills, where, as he had indeed but few wants, he lived retired and happy: in his latter years especially, he was almost always there. The life of Horace by Suetonius is very interesting; and from this work, as well as from the poet’s own writings, Wieland in his commentary, particularly on the Epistles, has said many very fine things on his personal character and his position in the world, and has cleared him of many a calumny: he has shown that Horace deserves the reproach of being a flatterer far less in truth than Virgil, as unfortunately we cannot help allowing. His praises are the outpouring of a general feeling, which he very fairly shared with other persons of his day. Wieland moreover points out how he tries to keep himself from being dependent on Mæcenas, and to push the golden chains aside as far as he could do so without seeming ungrateful. Augustus was not at all pleased when Horace did not dedicate to him the first book of the _Sermones_, and also when he wanted to have him for his secretary and he declined it: he could not have hidden from himself, that Horace was one of those who, notwithstanding all the good that he had done, would not forget his former life, and always judged of him by it. Wieland calls our attention to a letter of Augustus, in which he betrays how much he felt Horace’s indifference, and says, _An vereris ne apud posteros infame tibi sit quod videaris familiaris nobis esse?_ We can hardly have the odes in chronological order: some of them were written very early, perhaps even as far back as the time that he lived in Athens: of many indeed it is impossible to give the exact date; and though most of them were composed before the war of Actium, the first three books were not published till afterwards. Some of the _Sermones_ also belong to a very early period: the earliest that we have of his, is perhaps the banquet of Nasidienus, that is to say, Salvidienus, according to the undoubtedly correct remark of the scholiast; just as Malthinus stands for Mæcenas, so that the fictitious name has the same quantity as the real one. Against a man who had become unfortunate, Horace would not have written after his execution; and therefore the poem must date soon after the battle of Philippi, 710. To the last years of his life belong the fourth book of the Odes, and the second of the Epistles.