Part 10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JULIUS CÆSAR,

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

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

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

“Καρτισοι δη κεινοι ἐπιχθονιων τραφεν ανδρων, Καρτισοι μεν ἐσαν και καρτισοις ἐμαχοντο,” ——

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

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

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