Part 12

This latter part, however, of the Commentaries of Hirtius, has been lost, as it seems now to be generally acknowledged that he was not the author of the book _De Bello Hispanico_, which relates Cæsar’s second campaign in Spain, undertaken against young Cneius Pompey, who, having assembled, in the ulterior province of that country, those of his father’s party who had survived the disasters in Thessaly and Africa, and being joined by some of the native states, presented a formidable resistance to the power of Cæsar, till his hopes were terminated by the decisive battle of Munda. Dodwell, indeed, in a Dissertation on this subject, maintains, that it was originally written by Hirtius, but was interpolated by Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan writer of the 6th or 7th century. Vossius, however, whose opinion is that more commonly received, attributes it to Caius Oppius(219), who wrote the Lives of Illustrious Captains, and also a book to prove that the Ægyptian Cæsario was not the son of Cæsar. Oppius was Cæsar’s confidential friend, and companion in many of his enterprizes; and it was to him, as we are informed by Suetonius, that Cæsar gave up the only apartment at an inn, while they were travelling in Gaul, and lay himself on the ground, and in the open air(220).

A fragment has been added at the end of this book, on the Spanish war, by Jungerman, from a MS. of Petavius. Vossius thinks that this fragment was taken from the Commentaries, called those of Julius Celsus, on the Life of Cæsar, published in 1473. These Commentaries, however, were the work of a Christian writer; but Julius Celsus, a Constantinopolitan of the 6th century, already mentioned, having revised the Commentaries of Cæsar, the work on his life came, (from the confusion of names, or perhaps from a fiction devised, to give the stamp of authority,) to be attributed to Julius Celsus, who was contemporary with Cæsar, and was reported to have written a history of his campaigns; just in the same way as a fabulous life of Alexander, produced in the middle ages, passes to this day under the name of Callisthenes, the historiographer of the Macedonian monarch.

There is no other historian of the period on which we are now engaged, of whose works even any fragments have descended to us. Atticus, however, wrote Memoirs of Rome from the earliest periods, and also memoirs of its principal families, as the Junian, Cornelian, and Fabian,—tracing their origin, enumerating their honours, and recording their exploits. At the same time Lucceius composed Histories of the Social War, and of the Civil Wars of Sylla, which were so highly esteemed by Cicero, that he urges him in one of his letters to undertake a history of his consulship, in which he discovered and suppressed the conspiracy of Catiline(221). From a subsequent letter to Atticus we learn that Lucceius had promised to accomplish the task suggested to him(222). It is probable, however, that it never was completed,—his labour having been interrupted by the civil wars, in which he followed the fortunes of Pompey, and was indeed one of his chief advisers in adopting the fatal resolution of quitting Italy.

The Annals of Procilius, which appeared at this period, may be conjectured to have comprehended the whole series of Roman history, from the building of the city to his own time; since Varro quotes him for the account of Curtius throwing himself into the gulf(223) and Pliny refers to him for some remarks with regard to the elephants which appeared at Pompey’s African triumph(224).

Brutus is also said to have written epitomes of the meagre and barren histories of Fannius and Antipater. That he should have thought of abridging narratives so proverbially dry and jejune, seems altogether inexplicable.

The works of an historian called Cæcina have also perished, and if we may trust to his own account of them, their loss is not greatly to be deplored. In one of his letters to Cicero he says, “From much have I been compelled to refrain, many things I have been forced to pass over lightly, many to curtail, and very many absolutely to omit. Thus circumscribed, restricted, and broken as it is, what pleasure or what useful information can be expected from the recital(225)?”

We have thus traced the progress of historical composition among the Romans, from its commencement to the time of Augustus. There is no history so distinguished and adorned as the Roman, by illustrious characters; and the circumstances which it records produced the greatest as well as most permanent empire that ever existed on earth. The interest of the early events, and the value of the conclusions to be drawn from them, are much diminished by their uncertainty. Subsequently, however, to the second Punic war, the Roman historians were, for the most part, themselves engaged in the affairs of which they treat, and had therefore, at least, the most perfect _means_ of communicating accurate information. But this advantage, which, in one point of view, is so prodigious, was attended with concomitant evils. Lucian, in his treatise, How History ought to be Written, says, that the author of this species of composition should be abstracted from all connection with the persons and things which are its subjects; that he should be of no country and no party; that he should be free from all passion, and unconcerned who is pleased or offended with what he writes. Now, the Roman historians of the era on which we are engaged were the slaves of party or the heads of factions; and even when superior to all petty interests or prejudices, they still show plainly that they are Romans. None of them stood impartially aloof from their subject, or supplied the want of historians of Carthage and of Gaul, by whom their narratives might be corrected, and their colouring softened.

Of all the arts next to war, Eloquence was of most importance in Rome; since, if the former led to the conquest of foreign states, the latter opened to each individual a path to empire and dominion over the minds of his fellow citizens(226). Without this art, wisdom itself, in the estimation of Cicero, could be of little avail for the advantage or glory of the commonwealth(227).

During the existence of the monarchy, and in the early age of the republic, law proceedings were not numerous. Many civil suits were prevented by the absolute dominion which a Roman father exercised over his family; and the rigour of the decemviral laws, in which all the proceedings were extreme, frequently concussed parties into an accommodation; while, at the same time, the purity of ancient manners had not yet given rise to those criminal questions of bribery and peculation at home, or of oppression and extortion in the provinces, which disgraced the closing periods of the commonwealth, and furnished themes for the glowing invective of Cicero and Hortensius. Hence there was little room for the exercise of legal oratory; and whatever eloquence may have shone forth in the early ages of Rome, was probably of a political description, and exerted on affairs of state.

From the earliest times of the republic, history records the wonderful effects which Junius Brutus, Publicola, and Appius Claudius, produced by their harangues, in allaying seditions, and thwarting pernicious counsels. Dionysius of Halicarnassus gives us a formal speech, which Romulus, by direction of his grandfather, made to the people after the building of the city, on the subject of the government to be established(228). There are also long orations of Servius Tullius; and great part of the Antiquities of Dionysius is occupied with senatorial debates during the early ages of the republic. But though the orations of these fathers of Roman eloquence were doubtless delivered with order, gravity, and judgment, and may have possessed a masculine vigour, well calculated to animate the courage of the soldier, and protect the interests of the state, we must not form our opinion of them from the long speeches in Dionysius and Livy, or suppose that they were adorned with any of that rhetoric art with which they have been invested by these historians. A nation of outlaws, destined from their cradle to the profession of arms,—taught only to hurl the spear or javelin, and inure their bodies to other martial exercises,—with souls breathing only conquest,—and regarded as the enemies of every state till they had become its masters, could have possessed but few topics of illustration or embellishment, and were not likely to cultivate any species of rhetorical refinement. To convince by solid arguments when their cause was good, and to fill their fellow-citizens with passions corresponding to those with which they were themselves animated, would be the great objects of an eloquence supplied by nature and unimproved by study. Quintilian accordingly informs us, that though there appeared in the ancient orations some traces of original genius, and much force of argument, they bore, in their rugged and unpolished periods, the signs of the times in which they were delivered.

With exception of the speech of Appius Claudius to oppose a peace with Pyrrhus, there are no harangues mentioned by the Latin critics or historians as possessing any charms of oratory, previously to the time of Cornelius Cethegus, who flourished during the second Punic war, and was Consul about the year 550. Cethegus was particularly distinguished for his admirable sweetness of elocution and powers of persuasion, whence he is thus characterized by Ennius, a contemporary poet, in the 9th book of his _Annals_:

“Additur orator Cornelius suaviloquenti Ore Cethegus Marcus, Tuditano collega; Flos delibatus populi, suadæque medulla.”

The orations of Cato the Censor have been already mentioned as remarkable for their rude but masculine eloquence. When Cato was in the decline of life, a more rich and copious mode of speaking at length began to prevail. Ser. Galba, by the warmth and animation of his delivery, eclipsed Cato and all his contemporaries. He was the first among the Romans who displayed the distinguishing talents of an orator, by embellishing his subject,—by digressing, amplifying, entreating, and employing what are called topics, or common-places of discourse. On one occasion, while defending himself against a grave accusation, he melted his judges to compassion, by producing an orphan relative, whose father had been a favourite of the people. When his orations, however, were afterwards reduced to writing, their fire appeared extinguished, and they preserved none of that lustre with which his discourses are said to have shone when given forth by the living orator. Cicero accounts for this from his want of sufficient study and art in composition. While his mind was occupied and warmed by the subject, his language was bold and rapid; but when he took up the pen, his emotion ceased, and the periods fell languid from its point; “which,” continues he, “never happened to those who, having cultivated a more studied and polished style of oratory, wrote as they spoke. Hence the mind of Lælius yet breathes in his writings, though the force of Galba has failed.” It appears, however, from an anecdote recorded by Cicero, that Galba was esteemed the first orator of his age by the judges, the people, and Lælius himself.—Lælius, being intrusted with the defence of certain persons suspected of having committed a murder in the Silian forest, spoke for two days, correctly, elegantly, and with the approbation of all, after which the Consuls deferred judgment. He then recommended the accused to carry their cause to Galba, as it would be defended by him with more heat and vehemence. Galba, in consequence, delivered a most forcible and pathetic harangue, and after it was finished, his clients were absolved as if by acclamation(229). Hence Cicero surmises, that though Lælius might be the more learned and acute disputant, Galba possessed more power over the passions; he also conjectures, that the former had more elegance, but the latter more force; and he concludes, that the orator who can move or agitate his judges, farther advances his cause than he who can instruct them.

Lælius is also compared by Cicero with his friend, the younger Scipio Africanus, in whose presence, this question concerning the Silian murder was debated. They were almost equally distinguished for their eloquence; and they resembled each other in this respect, that they both invariably delivered themselves in a smooth manner, and never, like Galba, exerted themselves with loudness of speech or violence of gesture(230); but their style of oratory was different,—Lælius affecting a much more ancient phraseology than that adopted by his friend. Cicero himself seems inclined most to admire the rhetoric of Scipio; but he says, that, being so renowned a captain, and mankind being unwilling to allow supremacy to one individual, in what are considered as the two greatest of arts, his contemporaries for the most part awarded to Lælius the palm of eloquence.

The intercourse which was by this time opening up with Greece, and the encouragement now afforded to Greek teachers, who always possessed the undisputed privilege of dictating the precepts of the arts, produced the same improvement m oratory that it had effected in every branch of literature. Marcus Emilius Lepidus was a little younger than Galba or Scipio, and was Consul in 617. From his orations, which were extant in the time of Cicero, it appeared that he was the first who, in imitation of the Greeks, gave harmony and sweetness to his periods, or the graces of a style regularly polished and improved by art.

Cicero mentions a number of other orators of the same age with Lepidus, and minutely paints their peculiar styles of rhetoric. We find among them the names of almost all the eminent men of the period, as Emilius Paulus, Scipio Nasica, and Mucius Scævola. The importance of eloquence for the purposes of political aggrandizement, is sufficiently evinced, from this work of Cicero, _De Claris Oratoribus_, since there is scarcely an orator mentioned, even of inferior note, who did not at this time rise to the highest offices in the state.

The political situation of Rome, and the internal inquietude which now succeeded its foreign wars, were the great promoters of eloquence. We hear of no orators in Sparta or Crete, where the severest discipline was exercised, and where the people were governed by the strictest laws. But Rhodes and Athens, places of popular rule, where all things were open to all men, swarmed with orators. In like manner, Rome, when most torn with civil dissensions, produced the brightest examples of eloquence. Cicero declares, that wisdom without eloquence was of little service to the state(231); and from the political circumstances of the times, that sort of oratory was most esteemed which had most sway over a restless and ungovernable multitude. The situation of public affairs occasioned those continual debates concerning the Agrarian Laws, and the consequent popularity acquired by the most factious demagogues. Hence, too, those frequent impeachments of the great—those ambitious designs of the patricians—those hereditary enmities in particular families—in fine, those incessant struggles between the Senate and plebeians, which, though all prejudicial to the commonwealth, contributed to swell and ramify that rich vein of eloquence, which now flowed so profusely through the agitated frame of the state. During the whole period previous to the actual breaking out of the civil wars, when the Romans turned the sword against each other, and the mastery of the world depended on its edge, oratory continued to open the most direct path to dignities. The farther a Roman citizen advanced in this career, so much nearer was he to preferment, so much the greater his reputation with the people; and when elevated to the dignified offices of the state, so much the higher his ascendancy over his colleagues.

The Gracchi were the genuine offspring, and their eloquence the natural fruits of these turbulent times. Till their age, oratory had been a sort of _Arcanum imperii_,—an instrument of government in the power of the Senate, who used every precaution to retain its exclusive exercise. It was the great bulwark that withstood the tide of popular passion, and weakened it so as not to beat too high or strongly on their own order and authority. The Gracchi not only broke down the embankment, but turned the flood against the walls of the Senate itself. The interests of the people had never yet been espoused by men endued with eloquence equal to theirs. Cicero, while blaming their political conduct, admits that both were consummate orators; and this he testifies from the recollection of persons still surviving in his day, and who remembered their mode of speaking. Indeed, the wonderful power which both brothers exercised over the people is a sufficient proof of their eloquence. Tiberius Gracchus was the first who made rhetoric a serious study and art. In his boyhood, he was carefully instructed in elocution by his mother Cornelia: he also constantly attended the ablest and most eloquent masters from Greece, and, as he grew up, he bestowed much time on the exercise of private declamation. It is not likely, that, gifted as he was by nature, and thus instructed, the powers of eloquence should long have remained dormant in his bosom. At the time when he first appeared on the turbulent stage of Roman life, the accumulation of landed property among a few individuals, and the consequent abuse of exorbitant wealth, had filled Italy with slaves instead of citizens—had destroyed the habits of rural industry among the people at large, and leaving only rich masters at the head of numerous and profligate servants, gradually rooted out those middle classes of society which constitute the strength, the worth, and the best hopes of every well-regulated commonwealth. It is said, that while passing through Etruria on his way to Numantia, Tiberius Gracchus found the country almost depopulated of freemen, and thence first formed the project of his Agrarian law, which was originally intended to correct the evils arising from the immense landed possessions of the rich, by limiting them to the number of acres specified in the ancient enactments(232), and dividing the conquered territories among the poorer citizens. Preparatory to its promulgation, he was wont to assemble the people round the rostrum, where he pleaded for the poor, in language of which we have a specimen in Plutarch: “The wild beasts of Italy have their dens to retire to—their places of refuge and repose; while the brave men who shed their blood in the cause of their country, have nothing left but fresh air and sunshine. Without houses, without settled habitations, they wander from place to place with their wives and children; and their commanders do but mock them, when, at the head of their armies, they exhort their soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars. For, among such numbers, there is not one Roman who has an altar which belonged to his ancestors, or a tomb in which their ashes repose. The private soldiers fight and die to increase the wealth and luxury of the great; and they are styled sovereigns of the world, while they have not a foot of ground they can call their own(233).” By such speeches as these, the people were exasperated to fury, and the Senate was obliged to have recourse to Octavius, who, as one of the tribunes, was the colleague of Gracchus, to counteract the effects of his animated eloquence. Irritated by this opposition, Gracchus abandoned the first plan of his law, which was to give indemnification from the public treasury to those who should be deprived of their estates, and proposed a new bill, by which they were enjoined forthwith to quit those lands which they held contrary to previous enactments. On this subject there were daily disputes between him and Octavius on the rostrum. Finding that his plans could not otherwise be accomplished he resolved on the expedient of deposing his colleague; and thenceforth, to the period of his death, his speeches (one of which is preserved by Plutarch) were chiefly delivered in persuasion or justification of that violent measure.

Caius Gracchus was endued with higher talents than Tiberius, but the resentment he felt on account of his brother’s death, and eager desire for vengeance, led him into measures which have darkened his character with the shades of the demagogue. At the time of his brother’s death he had only reached the age of twenty. In early youth, he distinguished himself by the defence of one of his friends named Vettius, and charmed the people by the eloquence which he exerted. He appears soon afterwards to have been impelled, as it were, by a sort of destiny, to the same political course which had proved fatal to his brother, and which terminated in his own destruction. His speeches were all addressed to the people, and were delivered in proposing laws, calculated to increase their authority, and lessen that of the Senate,—as those for colonizing the public lands, and dividing them among the poor; for regulating the markets, so as to diminish the price of bread, and for vesting the judicial power in the knights. A fragment of his speech, _De Legibus Promulgatis_, is said to have been recently discovered, with other classical remains, in the Ambrosian Library. Aulus Gellius also quotes from this harangue, a passage, in which the orator complained that some respectable citizens of a municipal town in Italy had been scourged with rods by a Roman magistrate. Gellius praises the conciseness, neatness, and graceful ease of the narrative, resembling dramatic dialogue, in which this incident was related. Similar, but only similar qualities, appear in his accusation of the Roman legate, who, while travelling to Asia in a litter, caused a peasant to be scourged to death, for having asked his slaves if it was a corpse they were carrying. “The relation of these events,” says Gellius, “does not rise above the level of ordinary conversation. It is not a person complaining or imploring, but merely relating what had occurred;” and he contrasts this tameness with the energy and ardour with which Cicero has painted the commission of a like enormity by Verres(234).

Though similar in many points of character and also in their political conduct, there was a marked difference in the style of eloquence, and forensic demeanour, of the two brothers. Tiberius, in his looks and gestures, was mild and composed—Caius, earnest and vehement; so that when they spoke in public, Tiberius had the utmost moderation in his action, and moved not from his place: whereas Caius was the first of the Romans, who, in addressing the people, walked to and fro in the rostrum, threw his gown off his shoulder, smote his thigh, and exposed his arm bare(235). The language of Tiberius was laboured and accurate, that of Caius bold and figurative. The oratory of the former was of a gentle kind, and pity was the emotion it chiefly raised—that of the latter was strongly impassioned, and calculated to excite terror. In speaking, indeed, Caius was often so hurried away by the violence of his passion, that he exalted his voice above the regular pitch, indulged in abusive expressions, and disordered the whole tenor of his oration. In order to guard against such excesses, he stationed a slave behind him with an ivory flute, which was modulated so as to lead him to lower or heighten the tone of his voice, according as the subject required a higher or a softer key. “The flute,” says Cicero, “you may as well leave at home, but the meaning of the practice you must remember at the bar(236).”