p-books.com
The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to prose. Volume II (of X) - Rome
Author: Various
Previous Part     1  2  3  4  5     Next Part
Home - Random Browse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Footnote 98: Phidias was born in Athens about 500 B.C. and died about 430.]



QUINTILIAN

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

THE ORATOR MUST BE A GOOD MAN[100]

Let the orator, then, whom I propose to form, be such a one as is characterized by the definition of Marcus Cato, a good man skilled in speaking.

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

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

It is to be further considered that the mind can not be in a condition for pursuing the most noble of studies, unless it be entirely free from vice; not only because there can be no communion of good and evil in the same breast, and to meditate at once on the best things and the worst is no more in the power of the same mind than it is possible for the same man to be at once virtuous and vicious; but also because a mind intent on so arduous a study should be exempt from all other cares, even such as are unconnected with vice; for then, and then only, when it is free and master of itself, and when no other object harasses and distracts its attention, will it be able to keep in view the end to which it is devoted. But if an inordinate attention to an estate, a too anxious pursuit of wealth, indulgence in the pleasures of the chase, and the devotion of our days to public spectacles, rob our studies of much of our time (for whatever time is given to one thing is lost to another), what effect must we suppose that ambition, avarice, and envy will produce, whose excitements are so violent as even to disturb our sleep and our dreams? Nothing indeed is so preoccupied, so unsettled, so torn and lacerated with such numerous and various passions, as a bad mind; for when it intends evil, it is agitated with hope, care, and anxiety, and when it has attained the object of its wickedness, it is tormented with uneasiness, and the dread of every kind of punishment.

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

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

Pythagoras desired to be called, not wise, like those who preceded him, but a lover of wisdom. I, however, in speaking of Cicero, have often said, according to the common mode of speech, and shall continue to say, that he was a perfect orator, as we term our friends, in ordinary discourse, good and prudent men, tho such epithets can be justly given only to the perfectly wise. But when I have to speak precisely, and in conformity with the exactness of truth, I shall express myself as longing to see such an orator as he himself also longed to see; for tho I acknowledge that Cicero stood at the head of eloquence, and that I can scarcely find a passage in his speeches to which anything can be added, however many I might find which I may imagine that he would have pruned (for the learned have in general been of opinion that he had numerous excellences and some faults, and he himself says that he had cut off most of his juvenile exuberance), yet, since he did not claim to himself, tho he had no mean opinion of his merits, the praise of perfection, and since he might certainly have spoken better if a longer life had been granted him, and a more tranquil season for composition, I may not unreasonably believe that the summit of excellence was not attained by him, to which, notwithstanding, no man made nearer approaches. If I had thought otherwise, I might have maintained my opinion with still greater determination and freedom. Did Marcus Antonius declare that he had seen no man truly eloquent, tho to be eloquent is much less than to be a perfect orator; does Cicero himself say that he is still seeking for an orator, and merely conceives and imagines one; and shall I fear to say that in that portion of eternity which is yet to come something may arise still more excellent than what has yet been seen? I take no advantage of the opinion of those who refuse to allow great merit to Cicero and Demosthenes even in eloquence; tho Demosthenes, indeed, does not appear sufficiently near perfection even to Cicero himself, who says that he sometimes nods; nor does Cicero appear so to Brutus and Calvus, who certainly find fault with his language.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 99: Quintilian is notable as a writer who was not influenced by his great contemporary Seneca, whom he disliked and harshly criticized for literary defects. Quintilian modeled his own style on that of Cicero, altho at times he dropt back unconsciously into that of Seneca.]

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



TACITUS

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

I

FROM REPUBLICAN TO IMPERIAL ROME[102]

Kings held dominion in the city of Rome from its foundation: Lucius Brutus instituted liberty and the consulate. Dictatorships were resorted to in temporary emergencies: neither the power of the decemvirs continued in force beyond two years, nor the consular authority of the military tribunes for any length of time. The domination of Cinna did not continue long, nor that of Sulla: the influence of Pompey and Crassus quickly merged in Caesar: the arms of Lepidus and Antony in Augustus, who, with the title of prince, took under his command the commonwealth, exhausted with civil dissensions. But the affairs of the ancient Roman people, whether prosperous or adverse, have been recorded by writers of renown. Nor were there wanting authors of distinguished genius to have composed the history of the times of Augustus, till by the spirit of flattery, which became prevalent, they were deterred. As to Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero, whilst they yet reigned the histories of their times were falsified through fear; and after they had fallen, they were written under the influence of recent detestation. Thence my own design of recounting a few incidents respecting Augustus, and those toward the latter part of his life; and, after that, of giving a history of the reign of Tiberius and the rest; uninfluenced by resentment and partiality, as I stand aloof from the causes of them.

When, after the fall of Brutus and Cassius, there remained none to fight for the commonwealth; when Sextus Pompeius was utterly defeated at Sicily; and Lepidus being deprived of his command, and Mark Antony slain, there remained no leader even to the Julian party but Octavius; having put off the name of triumvir, styling himself Consul, and pretending that all he aimed at was the jurisdiction attached to the tribuneship for the protection of the commons; when he had cajoled the soldiery by donations, the people by distribution of corn, and men in general by the charms of peace, he (Octavius) began by gradations to exalt himself over them; to draw to himself the functions of the senate and of the magistrate, and the framing of the laws; in which he was thwarted by no man: the boldest spirits having fallen in some or other of the regular battles, or by proscription; and the surviving nobility being distinguished by wealth and public honors, according to the measure of their promptness to bondage; and as these innovations had been the cause of aggrandizement to them, preferring the present state of things with safety to the revival of ancient liberty with personal peril. Neither were the provinces averse to that condition of affairs; since they mistrusted the government of the senate and people, on account of the contentions among the great and the avarice of the magistrates: while the protection of the laws was enfeebled and borne down by violence, intrigue, and bribery.

Moreover, Augustus, as supports to his domination, raised his sister's son, Claudius Marcellus,[103] a mere youth, to the dignity of pontiff and curule aedile; aggrandized by two successive consulships Marcus Agrippa,[104] a man meanly born, but an accomplished soldier, and the companion of his victories; and soon, on the death of Marcellus, chose him for his son-in-law. The sons of his wife, Tiberius Nero and Claudius Drusus, he dignified with the title of Imperator, tho there had been no diminution in the members of his house. For into the family of the Caesars he had already adopted Lucius and Caius, the sons of Agrippa; and tho they had not yet laid aside the puerile garment, vehement had been his ambition to see them declared princes of the Roman youth, and even designed to the consulship; while he affected to decline the honors for them. Upon the decease of Agrippa, they were cut off, either by a death premature but natural, or by the arts of their stepmother Livia; Lucius on his journey to the armies in Spain, Caius on his return from Armenia, ill of a wound: and as Drusus had been long since dead, Tiberius Nero was the only survivor of his stepsons. On him every honor was accumulated (to that quarter all things inclined); he was by Augustus adopted for his son, assumed colleague in the empire, partner in the tribunitian authority, and presented to the several armies; not from the secret machinations of his mother, as heretofore, but at her open suit For over Augustus, now very aged, she had obtained such absolute sway, that he banished into the isle of Planasia his only surviving grandson, Agrippa Posthumus; a person destitute indeed of liberal accomplishments, and a man of clownish brutality with great bodily strength, but convicted of no heinous offense. The emperor, strange to say, set Germanicus, the son of Drusus, over eight legions quartered upon the Rhine, and ordered that he should be engrafted into his family by Tiberius by adoption, tho Tiberius had then a son of his own on the verge of manhood; but the object was that he might stand firm by having many to support and protect him. War at that time there remained none, except that in Germany, kept on foot rather to blot out the disgrace sustained by the loss of Quintilius Varus, with his army, than from any ambition to enlarge the empire, or for any advantage worth contending for. In profound tranquillity were affairs at Rome. The magistrates retained their wonted names; of the Romans, the younger sort had been born since the battle of Actium, and even most of the old during the civil wars: how few were then living who had seen the ancient free state!

The character of the government thus totally changed; no traces were to be found of the spirit of ancient institutions. The system by which every citizen shared in the government being thrown aside, all men regarded the orders of the prince as the only rule of conduct and obedience; nor felt they any anxiety for the present, while Augustus, yet in the vigor of life, maintained the credit of himself and house, and the peace of the state. But when old age had crept over him, and he was sinking under bodily infirmities—when his end was at hand, and thence a new source of hopes and views was presented—some few there were who began to talk idly about the blessings of liberty: many dreaded a civil war—others longed for one; while far the greatest part were occupied in circulating various surmises reflecting upon those who seemed likely to be their masters: "That Agrippa was naturally stern and savage, and exasperated by contumely; and neither in age nor experience equal to a task of such magnitude. Tiberius, indeed, had arrived at fulness of years, and was a distinguished captain, but possest the inveterate and inherent pride of the Claudian family; and many indications of cruel nature escaped him, in spite of all his arts to disguise it; that even from his early infancy he had been trained up in an imperial house; that consulships and triumphs had been accumulated upon him while but a youth. Not even during the years of his abode at Rhodes, where under the plausible name of retirement, he was in fact an exile, did he employ himself otherwise than in meditating future vengeance, studying the arts of simulation, and practising secret and abominable sensualities. That to these considerations was added that of his mother, a woman with the ungovernable spirit peculiar to her sex; that the Romans must be under bondage to a woman, and moreover to two youths, who would meanwhile oppress the state, and, at one time or other, rend it piecemeal."

While the public mind was agitated by these and similar discussions, the illness of Augustus grew daily more serious, and some suspected nefarious practises on the part of his wife. For some months before, a rumor had gone abroad that Augustus, having singled out a few to whom he communicated his purpose, had taken Fabius Maximus for his only companion, had sailed over to the island of Planasia, to visit Agrippa; that many tears were shed on both sides, many tokens of mutual tenderness shown, and hopes from thence conceived that the youth would be restored to the household gods of his grandfather. That Maximus had disclosed this to Martia, his wife—she to Livia; and that the emperor was informed of it: and that Maximus, not long after, dying (it is doubtful whether naturally or by means sought for the purpose), Martia was observed, in her lamentations at his funeral, to upbraid herself as the cause of her husband's destruction. Howsoever that matter might have been, Tiberius was scarce entered Illyrium when he was summoned by a letter from his mother, forwarded with speed, nor is it fully known whether, at his return to Nola,[105] he found Augustus yet breathing, or already lifeless. For Livia had carefully beset the palace, and all the avenues to it, with vigilant guards; and favorable bulletins were from time to time given out, until, the provisions which the conjuncture required being completed, in one and the same moment were published the departure of Augustus, and the accession of Tiberius.



II

THE FUNERAL OF GERMANICUS[106]

(19 A.D.)

Agrippina,[107] continuing her course without the least intermission through all the perils and rigors of a sea-voyage in the winter, arrived at the island Corcyra, situated over against the shores of Calabria. Unable to moderate her grief, and impatient from inexperience of affliction, she spent a few days there to tranquillize her troubled spirit; when, on hearing of her arrival, all the intimate friends of her family, and most of the officers who had served under Germanicus, with a number of strangers from the neighboring municipal towns, some thinking it due as a mark of respect to the prince, but the greater part carried along with the current, rushed to the city of Brundusium, the readiest port in her way, and the safest landing. As soon as the fleet appeared in the deep, instantly were filled, not the port alone and adjacent parts of the sea, but the walls and roofs, and wherever the most distant prospect could be obtained, with a sorrowing multitude, earnestly asking each other "whether they should receive her on landing in silence, or with some expression of feeling?" Nor was it clearly determined what course would be most suitable to the occasion, when the fleet came slowly in, not as usual in sprightly trim, but all wearing the impress of sadness. When she descended from the ship, accompanied by her two infants,[108] and bearing in her hand the funeral urn, her eyes fixt stedfastly upon the earth, one simultaneous groan burst from the whole assemblage; nor could you distinguish relations from strangers, nor the wailings of men from those of women; nor could any difference be discerned, except that those who came to meet her, in the vehemence of recent grief, surpassed the attendants of Agrippina, who were exhausted with continued mourning.

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

Tiberius and Livia[111] avoided appearing abroad—public lamentation they thought below their dignity—or perhaps they apprehended that if their countenances were examined by all eyes their hypocrisy would be detected. That Antonia, mother to the deceased, bore any part in the funeral, I do not find either in the historians or in the journals, tho, besides Agrippina and Drusus, and Claudius, his other relations are likewise there recorded by name; whether by sickness she was prevented, or whether her soul, vanquished by sorrow, could not bear to go through the representation of such an over-powering calamity. I would rather believe her constrained by Tiberius and Livia, who left not the palace, that they might seem to grieve alike and that the grandmother and uncle might appear to have followed her example in staying at home.

The day on which his remains were deposited in the tomb of Augustus, at one time exhibited the silence of perfect desolation; at another, the uproar of vociferous lamentation; the streets of the city were crowded, one general blaze of torches glared throughout the Campus Martius; there the soldiers under arms, the magistrates without the insignia of office, and the people ranged according to their tribes, passionately exclaimed, "that the commonwealth was utterly lost, that henceforth there remained no hope," so openly and so boldly that you would have believed they had forgotten those who ruled over them. But nothing pierced Tiberius more deeply than the warm interest excited in favor of Agrippina, while they gave her such titles as "the ornament of her country, the only blood of Augustus, an unparalleled example of primitive virtue"; and, looking up to heaven and the gods, they implored "the preservation of her issue, and that they might outlive their oppressors."

There were those who missed the pomp of a public funeral, and compared with this the superior honors and magnificence displayed by Augustus in that of Drusus, the father of Germanicus; observing, "that he himself had traveled, in the depth of winter, as far as Ticinus, and, continuing by the corpse, had with it entered the city; around his bier were crowded the images of the Claudii and Julii; he was mourned in the forum; his encomium pronounced on the rostra; all the honors invented by our ancestors, or added by their posterity, were heaped upon him. But to Germanicus were denied the ordinary solemnities, and such as were due to every distinguished Roman. Certainly his corpse was burned in a foreign country because of the long journey, in such a manner as it was, but afterward it was but just to have compensated the scantiness of the first ceremony by the increased solemnity of the last; his brother met him but one day's journey, his uncle not, even at the gate. Where were those observances of the ancients, the effigies of the dead laid in state on a bed, hymns composed in memory of departed virtue, with encomiums and tears? Where at least the ceremonial of sorrow?"

All this was known to Tiberius, and to suppress the reflections of the populace, he admonished them in an edict, "that many illustrious Romans had died for the commonwealth, but none so universally and vehemently regretted; and that it was to the honor of himself and all others, if bounds were observed. The same things which became private families and small states, became not princes and an imperial people; that it was not unseemly to lament in the first transport of sorrow, nay, relief was afforded by weeping, but it was now time to recover and compose their minds. Thus the deified Julius, upon the loss of an only daughter;[112] thus the deified Augustus, upon the premature death of his grandsons, had both concealed their sorrow. More ancient examples were unnecessary; how often had the Roman people sustained with equanimity the slaughter of their armies, the death of their generals, and entire destruction of illustrious families—princes were mortal, the commonwealth was eternal—they should therefore resume their customary vocations." And because the spectacle of the Megalesian games was at hand, he added, "that they should even lay aside their grief for amusements."

The vacation ended, public affairs were resumed; Drusus departed for the army in Illyricum, the minds of all men impatiently looking for vengeance upon Piso; and amidst many complaints, that while he was roaming at large through the delightful regions of Asia and Greece, he was undermining by contemptuous and artful delay the evidences of his crimes; for it was generally known that Martina, that notorious trafficker in sorceries, and sent, as I have above related, by Cneius Sentius to Rome, had died suddenly at Brundusium; that poison lay concealed in a knot of her hair.



III

THE DEATH OF SENECA[113]

(65 A.D.)

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

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

When this answer was by the tribune reported to Nero, in presence of Poppaea[115] and Tigellinus, who composed the cabinet council, the raging tyrant asked, whether Seneca meditated a voluntary death? the tribune averred "that he had manifested no symptoms of fear; and neither in his words nor looks did he detect any indication of regret." He was therefore commanded to return, and tell him he was doomed to die. Fabius Rusticus writes, "that the tribune did not return by the road he went, but turning off went to Fenius, captain of the guards, and stating to him the emperor's orders, asked whether he should obey him; and was by him admonished to execute them"; thus displaying that want of spirit which by some fatality prevailed universally; for Silvanus too was one of the conspirators, and yet was contributing to multiply the atrocities he had conspired to avenge. He avoided, however, seeing and speaking to Seneca; but sent in a centurion to apprize him of his final doom.

Seneca undismayed, called for tables to make his will; and, as this was prohibited by the centurion, turning to his friends, he told them, "that since he was debarred from requiting their services, he bequeathed them that which alone was now left him, but which yet was the fairest legacy he had to leave them—the example of his life: and if they kept it in view, they would reap the fame due to honorable acquirements and inviolable friendship." At the same time he endeavored to repress their tears and restore their fortitude, now by soothing language, and now in a more animated strain and in a tone of rebuke, asking them, "where were the precepts of philosophy? where the rules of conduct under impending evils, studied for so many years? For who was unapprized of the ferocious disposition of Nero? Nor could anything else be expected after he had murdered his mother and brother than that he should proceed to destroy his nursing father and preceptor."

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



IV

THE BURNING OF ROME BY ORDER OF NERO[116]

(64 A.D.)

There followed a dreadful disaster; whether fortuitously, or by the wicked contrivance of the prince[117] is not determined, for both are asserted by historians: but of all the calamities which ever befell this city from the rage of fire, this was the most terrible and severe. It broke out in that part of the Circus which is contiguous to mounts Palatine and Coelius; where, by reason of shops in which were kept such goods as minister aliment to fire, the moment it commenced it acquired strength, and being accelerated by the wind, it spread at once through the whole extent of the Circus: for neither were the houses secured by enclosures, nor the temples environed with walls, nor was there any other obstacle to intercept its progress; but the flame, spreading every way impetuously, invaded first the lower regions of the city, then mounted to the higher; then again ravaging the lower, it baffled every effort to extinguish it, by the rapidity of its destructive course, and from the liability of the city to conflagration, in consequence of the narrow and intricate alleys, and the irregularity of the streets in ancient Rome.[118] Add to this, the wailings of terrified women, the infirm condition of the aged, and the helplessness of childhood: such as strove to provide for themselves, and those who labored to assist others; these dragging the feeble, those waiting for them; some hurrying, others lingering; altogether created a scene of universal confusion and embarrassment: and while they looked back upon the danger in their rear, they often found themselves beset before, and on their sides: or if they had escaped into the quarters adjoining, these too were already seized by the devouring flames; even the parts which they believed remote and exempt, were found to be in the same distress. At last, not knowing what to shun, or where to seek sanctuary, they crowded the streets, and lay along in the open fields. Some, from the loss of their whole substance, even the means of their daily sustenance, others, from affection for their relations, whom they had not been able to snatch from the flames, suffered themselves to perish in them, tho they had opportunity to escape. Neither dared any man offer to check the fire: so repeated were the menaces of many who forbade to extinguish it; and because others openly threw firebrands, with loud declarations "that they had one who authorized them"; whether they did it that they might plunder with the less restraint, or in consequence of orders given.

Nero, who was at that juncture sojourning at Antium,[119] did not return to the city till the fire approached that quarter of his house which connected the palace with the gardens of Maecenas;[120] nor could it, however, be prevented from devouring the house and palace, and everything around. But for the relief of the people, thus destitute, and driven from their dwellings, he opened the fields of Mars and the monumental edifices erected by Agrippa,[121] and even his own gardens. He likewise reared temporary houses for the reception of the forlorn multitude: and from Ostia and the neighboring cities were brought, up the river, household necessaries; and the price of grain was reduced to three sesterces the measure. All which proceedings, tho of a popular character, were thrown away, because a rumor had become universally current, "that the very time when the city was in flames, Nero, going on the stage of his private theater, sang 'The Destruction of Troy,' assimilating the present disaster to that catastrophe of ancient times."

At length, on the sixth day, the conflagration was stayed at the foot of Esquilliae, by pulling down an immense quantity of buildings, so that an open space, and, as it were, void air, might check the raging element by breaking the continuity. But ere the consternation had subsided the fire broke out afresh, with no little violence, but in regions more spacious, and therefore with less destruction of human life: but more extensive havoc was made of the temples, and the porticoes dedicated to amusement. This conflagration, too was the subject of more censorious remark, as it arose in the AEmilian possessions of Tigellinus: and Nero seemed to aim at the glory of building a new city, and calling it by his own name: for, of the fourteen sections into which Rome is divided, four were still standing entire, three were leveled with the ground, and in the seven others there remained only here and there a few remnants of houses, shattered and half-consumed.

It were no easy task to recount the number of tenements and temples which were lost: but the following, most venerable for antiquity and sanctity, were consumed: that dedicated by Servius Tullius to the Moon; the temple and great altar consecrated by Evander the Arcadian to Hercules while present; the chapel vowed by Romulus to Jupiter Stator; the palace of Numa,[122] with the temple of Vesta, and in it the tutelar gods of Rome. Moreover, the treasures accumulated by so many victories, the beautiful productions of Greek artists, ancient writings of authors celebrated for genius, and till then preserved entire, were consumed: and tho great was the beauty of the city, in its renovated form, the older inhabitants remembered many decorations of the ancient which could not be replaced in the modern city. There were some who remarked that the commencement of this fire showed itself on the fourteenth before the calends of July, the day on which the Senones set fire to the captured city. Others carried their investigation so far as to determine that an equal number of years, months, and days intervened between the two fires.

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

But the rest of the old site not occupied by his palace, was laid out, not as after the Gallic fire, without discrimination and regularity, but with the lines of streets measured out, broad spaces left for transit, the height of the buildings limited, open areas left, and porticoes added to protect the front of the clustered dwellings: these porticoes Nero engaged to rear at his own expense, and then to deliver to each proprietor the areas about them cleared. He moreover proposed rewards proportioned to every man's rank and private substance, and fixt a day within which, if their houses, single or clustered, were finished, they should receive them: he appointed the marshes of Ostia for a receptacle of the rubbish, and that the vessels which had conveyed grain up the Tiber should return laden with rubbish; that the buildings themselves should be raised to a certain portion of their height without beams, and arched with stone from the quarries of Gabii or Alba, that stone being proof against fire: that over the water springs, which had been improperly intercepted by private individuals, overseers should be placed, to provide for their flowing in greater abundance, and in a greater number of places, for the supply of the public: that every housekeeper should have in his yard means for extinguishing fire; neither should there be party-walls, but every house should be enclosed by its own walls. These regulations, which were favorably received, in consideration of their utility, were also a source of beauty to the new city: yet some there were who believed that the ancient form was more conducive to health, as from the narrowness of the streets and the height of the buildings the rays of the sun were more excluded; whereas now, the spacious breadth of the streets, without any shade to protect it, was more intensely heated in warm weather.

Such were the provisions made by human counsels. The gods were next addrest with expiations and recourse had to the Sibyl's books. By admonition from them to Vulcan, Ceres, and Proserpina, supplicatory sacrifices were made, and Juno propitiated by the matrons, first in the Capitol, then upon the nearest shore, where, by water drawn from the sea, the temple and image of the goddess were besprinkled; and the ceremony of placing the goddess in her sacred chair, and her vigil, were celebrated by ladies who had husbands. But not all the relief that could come from man, not all the bounties that the prince could bestow, nor all the atonements which could be presented to the gods, availed to relieve Nero from the infamy of being believed to have ordered the conflagration.

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

In the mean time, in order to supply money, all Italy was pillaged, the provinces ruined: both the people in alliance with us, and the states which are called free. Even the gods were not exempt from plunder on this occasion, their temples in the city being despoiled, and all their gold conveyed away, which the Roman people, in every age, either in gratitude for triumphs, or in fulfilment of vows, had consecrated, in times of prosperity, or in seasons of dismay. Through Greece and Asia, indeed, the gifts and oblations, and even the statues of the deities were carried off; Acratus and Secundus Carinas being sent into those provinces for the purpose: the former, Nero's freedman, a prompt instrument in any iniquity; the other, acquainted with Greek learning, as far as relates to lip-knowledge, but unadorned with virtuous accomplishments. Of Seneca it was reported, "that to avert from himself the odium of this sacrilege, he prayed to retire to a seat of his, remote from Rome, and being refused, feigned indisposition, as tho his nerves were affected, and confined himself to his chamber." Some authors have recorded, "that a freedman of his, named Cleonicus, had, by the command of Nero, prepared poison for his master, who escaped it, either from the discovery made by the freedman, or from the caution inspired by his own apprehensions, as he supported nature by a diet perfectly simple, satisfying the cravings of hunger by wild fruits, and the solicitations of thirst from the running brook."



V

THE BURNING OF THE CAPITOL AT ROME[125]

(69 A.D.)

Martialis had scarcely reentered the Capitol when the furious soldiers appeared before it, without a general, and each man acting on his own suggestions. Having rapidly passed the forum, and the temples that overlook it, they marched up the opposite hill, as far as the first gates of the citadel. On the right side of the ascent, a range of porticoes had been built in ancient times. Going out upon the roof of those, the besieged threw a shower of stones and tiles. The assailants had no weapons but their swords, and to fetch engines and missiles seemed a tedious delay. They threw brands into the portico that jutted near them. They followed up the fire, and would have forced their way through the gate of the Capitol, which the fire had laid hold of, if Sabinus had not placed as a barrier in the very approach, in lieu of a wall, the statues, those honorable monuments of our ancestors, which were pulled down wherever they could be found. They then assaulted the Capitol in two different quarters near the grove of the asylum, and where the Tarpeian rock is ascended by a hundred steps. Both attacks were unforeseen.

That by the asylum was the nearer and most vigorous. Nor could they be stopt from climbing up the contiguous buildings, which being raised high under the idea of undisturbed peace, reach the basement of the Capitol. Here a doubt exists whether the fire was thrown upon the roofs by the storming party or the besieged, the latter being more generally supposed to have done it, to repulse those who were climbing up, and had advanced some way. The fire extended itself thence to the porticoes adjoining the temples; soon the eagles that supported the cupola caught fire, and as the timber was old they fed the flame. Thus the Capitol, with its gates shut, neither stormed, nor defended, was burned to the ground.

From the foundation of the city to that hour, the Roman republic had felt no calamity so deplorable, so shocking, as that, unassailed by a foreign enemy, and, were it not for the vices of the age, with the deities propitious, the temple of Jupiter supremely good and great, built by our ancestors with solemn auspices, the pledge of empire, which neither Porsena,[126] when Rome surrendered to his arms, nor the Gauls,[127] when they captured the city, were permitted to violate, should be now demolished by the madness of the rulers of the state. The Capitol was once before destroyed by fire during a civil war; but it was from the guilty machinations of private individuals. Now it was besieged publicly, publicly set fire to; and what were the motives for the war? what was the object to be gained, that so severe a calamity was incurred? Warred we in our country's cause?—Tarquinius Priscus, during the war with the Sabines, built it in fulfillment of a vow, and laid the foundations more in conformity with his anticipations of the future grandeur of the empire, than the limited extent of the Roman means at that time. Servius Tullius, assisted by the zeal of the allies of Rome, and after him Tarquin the Proud, with the spoils of Suessa Pometia, added to the building. But the glory of completing the design was reserved for the era of liberty. When tyrants were swept away, Horatius Pulvilus, in his second consulship, dedicated the temple, finished with such magnificence that the wealth of after ages graced it with new embellishments, but added nothing to its dimensions. Four hundred and fifteen years afterward, in the consulship of Lucius Scipio and Caius Norbanus, it was burned to the ground, and again rebuilt on the old foundation. Sulla having now triumphed over his opponents, undertook to build it, but nevertheless did not dedicate it; the only thing wanting to crown his felicity. That honor was reserved for Lutatius Catulus, whose name, amidst so many works of the Caesars, remained legible till the days of Vitellius. Such was the sacred building which was at this time reduced to ashes.



VI

THE SIEGE OF CREMONA[128]

(69 A.D.)

When they came to Cremona, they found a new and enormous difficulty. In the war with Otho, the German legions had formed a camp round the walls of the town, and fortified it with lines of circumvallation. New works were added afterward. The victors stood astonished at the sight, and even the generals were at a stand, undecided what orders to give. With troops harassed by exertions through the night and day, to carry the place by storm was difficult, and, without succors at hand, might be dangerous; but if they marched to Bedriacum, the fatigue would be insupportable, and the victory would end in nothing. To throw up intrenchments was dangerous, in the face of an enemy, who might suddenly sally forth and put them to the rout, while employed on the work in detached parties. A difficulty still greater than all arose from the temper of the men, more patient of danger than delay: inasmuch as a state of security afforded no excitement, while hope grew out of enterprise, however perilous; and carnage, wounds and blood, to whatever extent, were counterbalanced by the insatiable desire of plunder.

Antonius[129] determined upon the latter course and ordered the rampart to be invested. The attack began at a distance with a volley of stones and darts, with the greater loss to the Flavians, on whom the enemy's weapons were thrown with advantage from above. Antonius presently assigned portions of the rampart and the gates to the legions that by this mode of attack in different quarters, valor and cowardice might be distinguished, and a spirit of emulation in honor animate the army. The third and seventh legions took their station nearest the road to Bedriacum; the seventh and eighth Claudian, a portion more to the right hand of the rampart; the thirteenth were carried by their own impetuosity to the gate that looked toward Brixia.[130] Some delay then took place while they supplied themselves from the neighboring villages with pickaxes, spades, and hooks, and scaling-ladders. They then formed a close military shell with their shields raised above their heads, and under that cover advanced to the ramparts. The Roman art of war was seen on both sides. The Vitellians rolled down massy stones, with which, having disjoined and shaken the shell, they inserted their long poles and spears; till at last, the whole frame and texture of the shields being dissolved, they strewed the ground with numbers of the crusht and mangled assailants....

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

And now a new form of difficulty was presented by the high walls of the city, and towers of stone, the gates secured by iron bars, and troops brandishing their arms; the inhabitants, a large and numerous body, all devoted to Vitellius; and a conflux of people from all parts of Italy at the stated fair which was then held. The latter was regarded by the garrison as an aid, from the increase of numbers; but inflamed the ardor of the besiegers on the score of booty. Antonius ordered his men to take combustibles, and set fire to the most elegant edifices without the city; if, peradventure, the inhabitants, seeing their mansions destroyed, would be induced to abandon the adverse cause. In the houses that stood near the walls, of a height to overlook the works, he placed the bravest of his troops; and from those stations beams, tiles and firebrands were thrown down to drive the defenders of the walls from their posts.

The legions under Antonius now formed a military shell, while the rest poured in a volley of stones and darts; when the spirit of the besieged gradually gave way. The men highest in rank were willing to make terms for themselves, lest, if Cremona was taken by storm, they should receive no quarter, and the conquerors, disdaining vulgar lives, should fall on the tribunes and centurions, from whom the largest booty was to be expected. The common men, as usual, careless about future events, and safe in their obscurity, still held out. Roaming about the streets, or lurking in private houses, they did not sue for peace even when they had given up the contest. The principal officers took down the name and images of Vitellius. Caecina, for he was still in confinement, they released from his fetters, and desired his aid in pleading their cause with the conqueror. He heard their petition with disdain, swelling with insolence, while they importuned him with tears; the last stage of human misery, when so many brave and gallant men were obliged to sue to a traitor for protection! They then hung out from the walls the fillets and badges of supplicants. When Antonius ordered a cessation of hostilities, the garrison brought out their eagles and standards; a mournful train of soldiers without their aims, their eyes riveted to the ground, followed them. The conquerors gathered round them, and first heaped reproaches upon them, and threatened violence to their persons; but afterward, when they saw the passiveness with which they received the insults, and that the vanquished, abandoning all their former pride, submitted to every indignity, the thought occurred that these very men lately conquered at Bedriacum, and used their victory with moderation. But when Caecina came forth, decorated with his robes, and preceded by his lictors, who opened a way for him through the crowd, the indignation of the victors burst into a flame. They reproached him for his pride, his cruelty, and even for his treachery: so detested is villainy. Antonius opposed the fury of his men, and sent him under escort to Vespasian.

Meanwhile, the common people of Cremona, in the midst of so many soldiers, were subjected to grievous oppressions, and were in danger of being all put to the sword, if the rage of the soldiery had not been assuaged by the entreaties of their leaders. Antonius called them to an assembly, when he spoke of the conquerors in lofty terms, and of the vanquished with humanity; of Cremona he said nothing either way. But the army, adding to their love of plunder an inveterate aversion to the people, were bent on the extirpation of the inhabitants. In the war against Otho they were deemed the abettors of Vitellius; and afterward, when the thirteenth legion was left among them to build an amphitheater, with the usual insolence of the lower orders in towns, they had assailed them with offensive ribaldry. The spectacle of gladiators exhibited there by Caecina inflamed the animosity against the people. Their city, too, was now for the second time the seat of war; and, in the heat of the last engagement, the Vitellians were thence supplied with refreshments; and some of their women, led into the field of battle by their zeal for the cause, were slain. The period, too, of the fair had given to a colony otherwise affluent an imposing appearance of accumulated wealth. Antonius, by his fame and brilliant success, eclipsed all the other commanders: the attention of all was fixt on him alone. He hastened to the baths to wash off the blood; and on observing that the water was not hot enough, he said that they would soon grow hotter. The expression was caught up: a casual word among slaves had the effect of throwing upon him the whole odium of having given a signal for setting fire to Cremona, which was already in flames.

Forty thousand armed men had poured into it. The number of drudges and camp-followers was still greater, and more abandoned to lust and cruelty. Neither age nor dignity served as a protection; deeds of lust were perpetrated amidst scenes of carnage, and murder was added to rape. Aged men and women that had passed their prime, and who were useless as booty, were made the objects of brutal sport. If a mature maiden, or any one of comely appearance, fell in their way, after being torn piecemeal by the rude hands of contending ruffians, they at last were the occasion of their turning their swords against each other. While eagerly carrying off money or massy gold from the temples, they were butchered by others stronger than themselves. Not content with the treasures that lay open to their view, some forced the owners to discover their hidden wealth, and dig up their buried riches. Numbers carried flaming torches, and, as soon as they had brought forth their booty, in their wanton sport set the gutted houses and plundered temples on fire. In an army differing in language and manners, composed of Roman citizens, allies, and foreign auxiliaries, all the diversities of passions were exhibited. Each had his separate notions of right and wrong; nor was anything unlawful. Four days did Cremona minister to their rapacity. When everything else, sacred and profane, was leveled in the conflagration, the temple of Memphitis alone remained standing, outside of the walls; saved either by its situation, or the influence of the deity.

Such was the fate of Cremona, two hundred and eighty-six years from its foundation. It was built during the consulship of Tiberius Sempronius and Publius Cornelius, at the time when Hannibal threatened an irruption into Italy, as a bulwark against the Gauls inhabiting beyond the Po, or any other power that might break in over the Alps. The colony, as might be expected, grew and flourished in the number of its settlers, from the contiguity of rivers, the fertility of its soil, from alliances and intermarriages with the neighboring people; never having suffered from foreign wars, but a sad sufferer from civil dissensions. Antonius, shrinking from the infamy of this horrible transaction (for the detestation it excited was increasing), issued an edict forbidding all manner of persons to detain the citizens of Cremona as prisoners of war. At the same time the booty was rendered valueless by a resolution adopted throughout Italy, not to purchase the captives taken on that occasion. The soldiers then began to murder them. However, when this was known, the prisoners were eagerly ransomed by their friends and relations. The survivors in a short time returned to Cremona. The temples and public places were rebuilt, at the recommendation of Vespasian, by the munificence of the burgesses.



VII

AGRICOLA[132]

Cnaeus Julius Agricola was born at the ancient and illustrious colony of Forum Julii. Both his grandfathers were imperial procurators, an office which confers the rank of equestrian nobility. His father, Julius Graecinus, of the senatorian order, was famous for the study of eloquence and philosophy; and by these accomplishments he drew on himself the displeasure of Caius Caesar,[133] for, being commanded to undertake the accusation of Marcus Silanus—on his refusal, he was put to death. His mother was Julia Procilla, a lady of exemplary chastity. Educated with tenderness in her bosom, he passed his childhood and youth in the attainment of every liberal art. He was preserved from the allurements of vice, not only by a naturally good disposition, but by being sent very early to pursue his studies at Massilia;[134] a place where Grecian politeness and provincial frugality are happily united. I remember he was used to relate, that in his early youth he should have engaged with more ardor in philosophical speculation than was suitable to a Roman and a senator, had not the prudence of his mother restrained the warmth and vehemence of his disposition: for his lofty and upright spirit, inflamed by the charms of glory and exalted reputation, led him to the pursuit with more eagerness than discretion. Reason and riper years tempered his warmth; and from the study of wisdom, he retained what is most difficult to compass—moderation.

He learned the rudiments of war in Britain, under Suetonius Paulinus, an active and prudent commander, who chose him for his tent companion, in order to form an estimate of his merit. Nor did Agricola, like many young men, who convert military service into wanton pastime, avail himself licentiously or slothfully of his tribunitial title, or his inexperience, to spend his time in pleasures and absences from duty; but he employed himself in gaining a knowledge of the country, making himself known to the army, learning from the experienced, and imitating the best; neither pressing to be employed through vainglory, nor declining it through timidity; and performing his duty with equal solicitude and spirit. At no other time in truth was Britain more agitated or in a state of greater uncertainty. Our veterans slaughtered, our colonies burned, our armies cut off—we were then contending for safety, afterward for victory. During this period, altho all things were transacted under the conduct and direction of another, and the stress of the whole, as well as the glory of recovering the province, fell to the general's share, yet they imparted to the young Agricola skill, experience, and incentives; and the passion for military glory entered his soul; a passion ungrateful to the times, in which eminence was unfavorably construed, and a great reputation was no less dangerous than a bad one.

Departing thence to undertake the offices of magistracy in Rome, he married Domitia Decidiana, a lady of illustrious descent, from which connection he derived credit and support in his pursuit of greater things. They lived together in admirable harmony and mutual affection; each giving the preference to the other; a conduct equally laudable in both, except that a greater degree of praise is due to a good wife, in proportion as a bad one deserves the greater censure. The lot of questorship gave him Asia for his province, and the proconsul Salvius Titianus[135] for his superior; by neither of which circumstances was he corrupted, altho the province was wealthy and open to plunder, and the proconsul, from his rapacious disposition, would readily have agreed to a mutual concealment of guilt. His family was there increased by the birth of a daughter, who was both the support of his house, and his consolation; for he lost an elder-born son in infancy....

On his return from commanding the legion he was raised by Vespasian to the patrician order, and then invested with the government of Aquitania, a distinguished promotion, both in respect to the office itself, and the hopes of the consulate to which it destined him. It is a common supposition that military men, habituated to the unscrupulous and summary processes of camps, where things are carried with a strong hand, are deficient in the address and subtlety of genius requisite in civil jurisdiction. Agricola, however, by his natural prudence, was enabled to act with facility and precision even among civilians. He distinguished the hours of business from those of relaxation. When the court or tribunal demanded his presence, he was grave, intent, awful, yet generally inclined to lenity. When the duties of his office were over, the man of power was instantly laid aside. Nothing of sternness, arrogance, or rapaciousness appeared; and, what was a singular felicity, his affability did not impair his authority, nor his severity render him less beloved. To mention integrity and freedom from corruption in such a man, would be an affront to his virtues. He did not even court reputation, an object to which men of worth frequently sacrifice, by ostentation or artifice: equally avoiding competition with his colleagues, and contention with the procurators. To overcome in such a contest he thought inglorious; and to be put down, a disgrace. Somewhat less than three years were spent in this office, when he was recalled to the immediate prospect of the consulate; while at the same time a popular opinion prevailed that the government of Britain would be conferred upon him; an opinion not founded upon any suggestions of his own, but upon his being thought equal to the station. Common fame does not always err, sometimes it even directs a choice. When Consul,[136] he contracted his daughter, a lady already of the happiest promise, to myself, then a very young man; and after his office was expired I received her in marriage. He was immediately appointed governor of Britain, and the pontificate was added to his other dignities....

His decease was a severe affliction to his family, a grief to his friends, and a subject of regret even to foreigners, and those who had no personal knowledge of him. The common people too, and the class who little interest themselves about public concerns, were frequent in their inquiries at his house during his sickness, and made him the subject of conversation at the forum and in private circles; nor did any person either rejoice at the news of his death, or speedily forget it. Their commiseration was aggravated by a prevailing report that he was taken off by poison. I can not venture to affirm anything certain of this matter; yet, during the whole course of his illness, the principal of the imperial freedmen and the most confidential of the physicians was sent much more frequently than was customary with a court whose visits were chiefly paid by messages; whether that was done out of real solicitude, or for the purposes of state inquisition. On the day of his decease, it is certain that accounts of his approaching dissolution were every instant transmitted to the emperor by couriers stationed for the purpose; and no one believed that the information, which so much pains was taken to accelerate, could be received with regret. He put on, however, in his countenance and demeanor, the semblance of grief: for he was now secured from an object of hatred, and could more easily conceal his joy than his fear. It was well known that on reading the will, in which he was nominated co-heir with the excellent wife and most dutiful daughter of Agricola, he exprest great satisfaction, as if it had been a voluntary testimony of honor and esteem: so blind and corrupt had his mind been rendered by continual adulation, that he was ignorant none but a bad prince could be nominated heir to a good father.

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

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

[Footnote 104: Agrippa was the leading administrative mind under Augustus, with whom he had served in the Civil War and in the battle Actium. The Pantheon, the only complete building of Imperial Rome that still survives, was finished and dedicated by him. He married as his third wife Julia, the widow of Marcellus.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Footnote 110: Not the Emperor of that name, who was not born until 121 A.D.]

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

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

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

[Footnote 114: Caius Piso, lender of an unsuccessful conspiracy against Nero in 65. Other famous Romans of the name of Piso are Lucius, censor, consul and author; another Lucius whose daughter was married to Julius Caesar; and Cneius, governor of Syria, who was accused of murdering Germanicus.]

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

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

[Footnote 117: Nero.]

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

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

[Footnote 120: Near the Esquiline.]

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

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

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

[Footnote 124: Claudius already had expelled the Jews from Rome and included in their number the followers of Christ. But his edict was not specifically directed against the Christians. Nero was the first emperor who persecuted them as professors of a new faith.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Footnote 130: The modern Brescia.]

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

[Footnote 132: From the Oxford translation revised.]

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

[Footnote 134: Now Marseilles, founded by Phoenicians, who introduced, there a degree of Greek culture which long made the city famous.]

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

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



PLINY THE YOUNGER

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

I

OF THE CHRISTIANS IN HIS PROVINCE[137]

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

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

After receiving this account, I judged it so much the more necessary to endeavor to extort the real truth by putting two female slaves to the torture, who were said to officiate in their religious rites: but all I could discover was evidence of an absurd and extravagant superstition. I deemed it expedient, therefore, to adjourn all further proceedings, in order to consult you. For it appears to be a matter highly deserving your consideration, more especially as great numbers must be involved in the danger of these prosecutions, which have already extended, and are still likely to extend, to persons of all ranks and ages, and even of both sexes. In fact, this contagious superstition is not confined to the cities only, but has spread its infection among the neighboring villages and country. Nevertheless, it still seems possible to restrain its progress. The temples, at least, which were once almost deserted, begin now to be frequented; and the sacred rites, after a long intermission, are again revived; while there is a general demand for the victims, which till lately found very few purchasers. From all this it is easy to conjecture what numbers might be reclaimed if a general pardon were granted to those who shall repent of their error.[138]



II

TO TACITUS ON THE ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS[139]

(79 A.D.)

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

He was at that time with the fleet under his command at Misenum.[141] On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother desired him to observe a cloud which appeared of a very unusual size and shape. He had just taken a turn in the sun, and, after bathing himself in cold water, and making a light luncheon, gone back to his books: he immediately arose and went out upon a rising ground from whence he might get a better sight of this very uncommon appearance. A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain, at this distance (but it was found afterward to come from Mount Vesuvius),[142] was ascending, the appearance of which I can not give you a more exact description of than by likening it to that of a pine-tree, for it shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread itself out at the top into a sort of branches; occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which decreased as it advanced upward, or the cloud itself being prest back again by its own weight, expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted according as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders. This phenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and research as my uncle extraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a light vessel to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to accompany him. I said I had rather go on with my work; and it so happened he had himself given me something to write out.

As he was coming out of the house, he received a note from Rectina, the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at the imminent danger which threatened her; for her villa lying at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea; she earnestly entreated him therefore to come to her assistance. He accordingly changed his first intention and what he had begun from a philosophical, he now carries out in a noble and generous spirit. He ordered the galleys to put to sea and went himself on board with an intention of assisting not only Rectina but the several other towns which lay thickly strewn along that beautiful coast. Hastening then to the place from whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his course direct to the point of danger, and with so much calmness and presence of mind as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon the motion and all the phenomena of that dreadful scene. He was now so close to the mountain that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice stones, and black pieces of burning rock: they were in danger too not only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, but also from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountains, and obstructed all the shore. Here he stopt to consider whether he should turn back again; to which the pilot advising him, "Fortune," said he, "favors the brave; steer to where Pomponianus is." Pomponianus was then at Stabiae,[143] separated by a bay, which the sea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore. He had already sent his baggage on board; for tho he was not at that time in actual danger, yet being within sight of it, and indeed extremely near, if it should in the least increase, he was determined to put to sea as soon as the wind, which was blowing dead in-shore, should go down.

It was favorable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation: he embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to keep up his spirits, and the more effectually to soothe his fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got ready, and then, after having bathed, sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least (what is just as heroic) with every appearance of it. Meanwhile broad flames shone out in several places from Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still brighter and clearer. But my uncle, in order to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it was only the burning of the villages, which the country people had abandoned to the flames: after this he retired to rest, and it is most certain he was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep: for his breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was rather heavy and sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside. The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, if he had continued there any time longer, it would have been impossible for him to have made his way out. So he was awoke and got up, and went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were feeling too anxious to think of going to bed. They consulted together whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side to side with frequent and violent concussions as tho shaken from their very foundations; or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, tho light indeed yet fell in large showers, and threatened destruction. In this choice of dangers they resolved for the fields: a resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins; and this was their whole defense against the storm of stones that fell round them.

Previous Part     1  2  3  4  5     Next Part
Home - Random Browse