show that the coasts of the Baltic were at an early period in commercial
relation with the civilized world. The chronicle of Nestor mentions as
inhabitants of the Baltic coast the Chudes, the Livs, the Narova,
Letgola, Semigallians and Kors. It was probably about the 9th century
that the Chudes became tributary to the Varangian-Russian states. As
they reacquired their independence, Yaroslav I. undertook in 1030 a
campaign against them, and founded Yuriev (Dorpat). The Germans first
penetrated into Livonia in the 11th century, and in 1158 several Lübeck
and Visby merchants landed at the mouth of the Dvina. In 1186 the
emissaries of the archbishop of Bremen began to preach Christianity
among the Ehsts and Letts, and in 1201 the bishop of Livonia established
his residence at Riga. In 1202 or 1204 Innocent III. recognized the
order of Brothers of the Sword, the residence of its grand master being
at Wenden; and the order, spreading the Christian religion by the sword
among the natives, carried on from that time a series of uninterrupted
wars against the Russian republics and Lithuania, as well as a struggle
against the archbishop of Riga, Riga having become a centre for trade,
intermediate between the Hanseatic towns and those of Novgorod, Pskov
and Polotsk. The first active interference of Lithuania in the affairs
of Livonia took place immediately after the great outbreak of the
peasants on Oesel; Olgierd then devastated all southern Livonia. The
order, having purchased the Danish part of Esthonia, in 1347, began a
war against the bishop of Riga, as well as against Lithuania, Poland and
Russia. The wars against those powers were terminated respectively in
1435, 1466 and 1483. About the end of the 15th century the master of the
order, Plettenberg, acquired a position of great importance, and in 1527
he was recognized as a prince of the empire by Charles V. On the other
hand, the authority of the bishops of Riga was soon completely destroyed
(1566). The war of the order with Ivan IV. of Russia in 1558 led to a
division of Livonia, its northern part, Dorpat included, being taken by
Russia, and the southern part falling under the dominion of Poland. From
that time (1561) Livonia formed a subject of dispute between Poland and
Russia, the latter only formally abdicating its rights to the country in
1582. In 1621 it was the theatre of a war between Poland and Sweden, and
was conquered by the latter power, enjoying thus for twenty-five years a
milder rule. In 1654, and again at the beginning of the 18th century, it
became the theatre of war between Poland, Russia and Sweden, and was
finally conquered by Russia. The official concession was confirmed by
the treaty of Nystad in 1721.
See E. Seraphim, _Geschichte Liv-, Esth-, und Kurlands_ (2nd ed.,
Revel, 1897-1904) and _Geschichte von Livland_ (Gotha, 1905, &c.).
(P. A. K.; J. T. Be.)
LIVY [TITUS LIVIUS] (59 B.C.-A.D. 17), Roman historian, was born at
Patavium (Padua). The ancient connexion between his native city and Rome
helped to turn his attention to the study which became the work of his
life. For Padua claimed, like Rome, a Trojan origin, and Livy is careful
to place its founder Antenor side by side with Aeneas. A more real bond
of union was found in the dangers to which both had been exposed from
the assaults of the Celts (Livy x. 2), and Padua must have been drawn to
Rome as the conqueror of her hereditary foes. Moreover, at the time of
Livy's birth, Padua had long been in possession of the full Roman
franchise, and the historian's family name may have been taken by one of
his ancestors out of compliment to the great Livian gens at Rome, whose
connexion with Cisalpine Gaul is well-established (Suet. _Tib._ 3), and
by one of whom his family may have been enfranchized.
Livy's easy independent life at Rome, and his aristocratic leanings in
politics seem to show that he was the son of well-born and opulent
parents; he was certainly well educated, being widely read in Greek
literature, and a student both of rhetoric and philosophy. We have also
evidence in his writings that he had prepared himself for his great work
by researches into the history of his native town. His youth and early
manhood, spent perhaps chiefly at Padua, were cast in stormy times, and
the impression which they left upon his mind was ineffaceable. In the
Civil War his personal sympathies were with Pompey and the republican
party (Tac. _Ann._ iv. 34); but far more lasting in its effects was his
experience of the licence, anarchy and confusion of these dark days. The
rule of Augustus he seems to have accepted as a necessity, but he could
not, like Horace and Virgil, welcome it as inaugurating a new and
glorious era. He writes of it with despondency as a degenerate and
declining age; and, instead of triumphant prophecies of world-wide rule,
such as we find in Horace, Livy contents himself with pointing out the
dangers which already threatened Rome, and exhorting his contemporaries
to learn, in good time, the lessons which the past history of the state
had to teach.
It was probably about the time of the battle of Actium that Livy
established himself in Rome, and there he seems chiefly to have resided
until his retirement to Padua shortly before his death. We have no
evidence that he travelled much, though he must have paid at least one
visit to Campania (xxxviii. 56), and he never, so far as we know, took
any part in political life. Nor, though he enjoyed the personal
friendship and patronage of Augustus (Tac. _Ann._ iv. 34) and stimulated
the historical zeal of the future emperor Claudius (Suet. _Claud._
xli.), can we detect in him anything of the courtier. There is not in
his history a trace of that rather gross adulation in which even Virgil
does not disdain to indulge. His republican sympathies were freely
expressed, and as freely pardoned by Augustus. We must imagine him
devoted to the great task which he had set himself to perform, with a
mind free from all disturbing cares, and in the enjoyment of all the
facilities for study afforded by the Rome of Augustus, with its liberal
encouragement of letters, its newly-founded libraries and its brilliant
literary circles. As his work went on, the fame which he had never
coveted came to him in ample measure. He is said to have declared in one
volume of his history that he had already won glory enough, and the
younger Pliny (_Epist._ ii. 3) relates that a Spaniard came all the way
from Gades merely to see him, and, this accomplished, at once returned
home satisfied. The accession of Tiberius (A.D. 14) materially altered
for the worse the prospects of literature in Rome, and Livy retired to
Padua, where he died. He had at least one son (Quintil. x. 1. 39), who
also was possibly an author (Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ i. 5. 6), and a
daughter married to a certain L. Magius, a rhetorician of no great merit
(Seneca, _Controv._ x. 29. 2). Nothing further is known of his personal
history.
_Analysis of the History._--For us the interest of Livy's life centres
in the work to which the greater part of it was devoted, the history of
Rome from its foundation down to the death of Drusus (9 B.C.). Its
proper title was _Ab urbe condita libri_ (also called _historiae_ and
_annales_). Various indications point to the period from 27 to 20 B.C.,
as that during which the first decade was written. In the first book
(19. 3) the emperor is called Augustus, a title which he assumed early
in 27 B.C., and in ix. 18 the omission of all reference to the
restoration, in 20 B.C., of the standards taken at Carrhae seems to
justify the inference that the passage was written before that date. In
the epitome of book lix. there is a reference to a law of Augustus which
was passed in 18 B.C. The books dealing with the civil wars must have
been written during Augustus's lifetime, as they were read by him (Tac.
_Ann._ iv. 34), while there is some evidence that the last part, from
book cxxi. onwards, was published after his death A.D. 14.
The work begins with the landing of Aeneas in Italy, and closes with the
death of Drusus, 9 B.C., though it is possible that the author intended
to continue it as far as the death of Augustus. The division into
decades is certainly not due to the author himself, and is first heard
of at the end of the 5th century; on the other hand, the division into
_libri_ or _volumina_ seems to be original. That the books were grouped
and possibly published in sets is rendered probable both by the prefaces
which introduce new divisions of the work (vi. 1, xxi. 1, xxxi. 1) and
by the description in one MS. of books cix.-cxvi. as "bellorum civilium
libri octo." Such arrangement and publication in parts were, moreover,
common with ancient authors, and in the case of a lengthy work almost a
necessity.
Of the 142 _libri_ composing the history, the first 15 carry us down to
the eve of the great struggle with Carthage, a period, as Livy reckons
it, of 488 years (xxxi. 1); 15 more (xvi-xxx.) cover the 63 years of the
two great Punic wars. With the close of book xlv. we reach the conquest
of Macedonia in 167 B.C. Book lviii. described the tribunate of Tiberius
Gracchus, 133 B.C. In book lxxxix. we have the dictatorship of Sulla (81
B.C.), in ciii. Caesar's first consulship (59 B.C.), in cix.-cxvi. the
civil wars to the death of Caesar (44 B.C.), in cxxiv. the defeat of
Brutus and Cassius at Philippi, in cxxxiii. and cxxxiv. the battle of
Actium and the accession of Augustus. The remaining eight books give the
history of the first twenty years of Augustus's reign.
Of this vast work only a small portion has come down to modern times;
only thirty-five books are now extant (i.-x., xxi.-xlv.), and of these
xli. and xliii. are incomplete. The lost books seem to have disappeared
between the 7th century and the revival of letters in the 15th--a fact
sufficiently accounted for by the difficulty of transmitting so
voluminous a work in times when printing was unknown, for the story that
Pope Gregory I. burnt all the copies of Livy he could lay his hands on
rests on no good evidence. Only one important fragment has since been
recovered--the portion of book xci. discovered in the Vatican in 1772,
and edited by Niebuhr in 1820. Very much no doubt of the substance of
the lost books has been preserved both by such writers as Plutarch and
Dio Cassius, and by epitomizers like Florus and Eutropius. But our
knowledge of their contents is chiefly derived from the so-called
_periochae_ or epitomes, of which we have fortunately a nearly complete
series, the epitomes of books cxxxvi. and cxxxvii. being the only ones
missing.[1] These epitomes have been ascribed without sufficient reason
to Florus (2nd century); but, though they are probably of even later
date, and are disappointingly meagre, they may be taken as giving, so
far as they go, a fairly authentic description of the original. They
have been expanded with great ingenuity and learning by Freinsheim in
Drakenborch's edition of Livy.[2] The _Prodigio_ of Julius Obsequens and
the list of consuls in the _Chronica_ of Cassiodorus are taken directly
from Livy, and to that extent reproduce the contents of the lost books.
It is probable that Obsequens, Cassiodorus and the compiler of the
epitomes did not use the original work but an abridgment.
_Historical Standpoint._--If we are to form a correct judgment on the
merits of Livy's history, we must, above all things, bear in mind what
his aim was in writing it, and this he has told us himself in the
celebrated preface. He set himself the task of recording the history of
the Roman people, "the first in the world," from the beginning. The task
was a great one, and the fame to be won by it uncertain, yet it would
be something to have made the attempt, and the labour itself would bring
a welcome relief from the contemplation of present evils; for his
readers, too, this record will, he says, be full of instruction; they
are invited to note especially the moral lessons taught by the story of
Rome, to observe how Rome rose to greatness by the simple virtues and
unselfish devotion of her citizens, and how on the decay of these
qualities followed degeneracy and decline.
He does not, therefore, write, as Polybius wrote, for students of
history. With Polybius the greatness of Rome is a phenomenon to be
critically studied and scientifically explained; the rise of Rome forms
an important chapter in universal history, and must be dealt with, not
as an isolated fact, but in connexion with the general march of events
in the civilized world. Still less has Livy anything in common with the
naïve anxiety of Dionysius of Halicarnassus to make it clear to his
fellow Greeks that the irresistible people who had mastered them was in
origin, in race and in language Hellenic like themselves.
Livy writes as a Roman, to raise a monument worthy of the greatness of
Rome, and to keep alive, for the guidance and the warning of Romans, the
recollection alike of the virtues which had made Rome great and of the
vices which had threatened her with destruction. In so writing he was in
close agreement with the traditions of Roman literature, as well as with
the conception of the nature and objects of history current in his time.
To a large extent Roman literature grew out of pride in Rome, for,
though her earliest authors took the form and often the language of
their writings from Greece, it was the greatness of Rome that inspired
the best of them, and it was from the annals of Rome that their themes
were taken. And this is naturally true in an especial sense of the Roman
historians; the long list of annalists begins at the moment when the
great struggle with Carthage had for the first time brought Rome into
direct connexion with the historic peoples of the ancient world, and
when Romans themselves awoke to the importance of the part reserved for
Rome to play in universal history. To write the annals of Rome became at
once a task worthy of the best of her citizens. Though other forms of
literature might be thought unbecoming to the dignity of a free-born
citizen, this was never so with history. On the contrary, men of high
rank and tried statesmanship were on that very account thought all the
fitter to write the chronicles of the state they had served. And history
in Rome never lost either its social prestige or its intimate and
exclusive connexion with the fortunes of the Roman people. It was well
enough for Greeks to busy themselves with the manners, institutions and
deeds of the "peoples outside." The Roman historians, from Fabius Pictor
to Tacitus, cared for none of these things. This exclusive interest in
Rome was doubtless encouraged by the peculiar characteristics of the
history of the state. The Roman annalist had not, like the Greek, to
deal with the varying fortunes and separate doings of a number of petty
communities, but with the continuous life of a single city. Nor was his
attention drawn from the main lines of political history by the claims
of art, literature and philosophy, for just as the tie which bound
Romans together was that of citizenship, not of race or culture, so the
history of Rome is that of the state, of its political constitution, its
wars and conquests, its military and administrative system.
Livy's own circumstances were all such as to render these views natural
to him. He began to write at a time when, after a century of
disturbance, the mass of men had been contented to purchase peace at the
price of liberty. The present was at least inglorious, the future
doubtful, and many turned gladly to the past for consolation. This
retrospective tendency was favourably regarded by the government. It was
the policy of Augustus to obliterate all traces of recent revolution,
and to connect the new imperial régime as closely as possible with the
ancient traditions and institutions of Rome and Italy. The _Aeneid_ of
Virgil, the _Fasti_ of Ovid, suited well with his own restoration of the
ancient temples, his revival of such ancient ceremonies as the Ludi
Saeculares, his efforts to check the un-Roman luxury of the day, and his
jealous regard for the purity of the Roman stock. And, though we are
nowhere told that Livy undertook his history at the emperor's
suggestion, it is certain that Augustus read parts of it with pleasure,
and even honoured the writer with his assistance and friendship.
Livy was deeply penetrated with a sense of the greatness of Rome. From
first to last its majesty and high destiny are present to his mind.
Aeneas is led to Italy by the Fates that he may be the founder of Rome.
Romulus after his ascension declares it to be the will of heaven that
Rome should be mistress of the world; and Hannibal marches into Italy,
that he may "set free the world" from Roman rule. But, if this
ever-present consciousness often gives dignity and elevation to his
narrative, it is also responsible for some of its defects. It leads him
occasionally into exaggerated language (e.g. xxii. 33, "nullius usquam
terrarum rei cura Romanos effugiebat"), or into such mis-statements as
his explanation of the course taken by the Romans in renewing war with
Carthage, that "it seemed more suitable to the dignity of the Roman
people." Often his jealousy for the honour of Rome makes him unfair and
one-sided. In all her wars not only success but justice is with Rome. To
the same general attitude is also due the omission by Livy of all that
has no direct bearing on the fortunes of the Roman people. "I have
resolved," he says (xxxix. 48), "only to touch on foreign affairs so far
as they are bound up with those of Rome." As the result, we get from
Livy very defective accounts even of the Italic peoples most closely
connected with Rome. Of the past history and the internal condition of
the more distant nations she encountered he tells us little or nothing,
even when he found such details carefully given by Polybius.
Scarcely less strong than his interest in Rome is his interest in the
moral lessons which her history seemed to him so well qualified to
teach. This didactic view of history was a prevalent one in antiquity,
and it was confirmed no doubt by those rhetorical studies which in Rome
as in Greece formed the chief part of education, and which taught men to
look on history as little more than a storehouse of illustrations and
themes for declamation. But it suited also the practical bent of the
Roman mind, with its comparative indifference to abstract speculation or
purely scientific research. It is in the highest degree natural that
Livy should have sought for the secret of the rise of Rome, not in any
large historical causes, but in the moral qualities of the people
themselves, and that he should have looked upon the contemplation of
these as the best remedy for the vices of his own degenerate days. He
dwells with delight on the unselfish patriotism of the old heroes of the
republic. In those times children obeyed their parents, the gods were
still sincerely worshipped, poverty was no disgrace, sceptical
philosophies and foreign fashions in religion and in daily life were
unknown. But this ethical interest is closely bound up with his Roman
sympathies. His moral ideal is no abstract one, and the virtues he
praises are those which in his view made up the truly Roman type of
character. The prominence thus given to the moral aspects of the history
tends to obscure in some degree the true relations and real importance
of the events narrated, but it does so in Livy to a far less extent than
in some other writers. He is much too skilful an artist either to
resolve his history into a mere bundle of examples, or to overload it,
as Tacitus is sometimes inclined to do, with reflections and axioms. The
moral he wishes to enforce is usually either conveyed by the story
itself, with the aid perhaps of a single sentence of comment, or put as
a speech into the mouth of one of his characters (e.g. xxiii. 49; the
devotion of Decius, viii. 10, cf. vii. 40; and the speech of Camillus,
v. 54); and what little his narrative thus loses in accuracy it gains in
dignity and warmth of feeling. In his portraits of the typical Romans of
the old style, such as Q. Fabius Maximus, in his descriptions of the
unshaken firmness and calm courage shown by the fathers of the state in
the hour of trial, Livy is at his best; and he is so largely in virtue
of his genuine appreciation of character as a powerful force in the
affairs of men.
This enthusiasm for Rome and for Roman virtues is, moreover, saved from
degenerating into gross partiality by the genuine candour of Livy's mind
and by his wide sympathies with every thing great and good. Seneca
(_Suasoriae_ vi. 22) and Quintilian (x. 1. 101) bear witness to his
impartiality. Thus, Hasdrubal's devotion and valour at the battle on the
Metaurus are described in terms of eloquent praise; and even in
Hannibal, the lifelong enemy of Rome, he frankly recognizes the great
qualities that balanced his faults. Nor, though his sympathies are
unmistakably with the aristocratic party, does he scruple to censure the
pride, cruelty and selfishness which too often marked their conduct (ii.
54; the speech of Canuleius, iv. 3; of Sextius and Licinius, vi. 36);
and, though he feels acutely that the times are out of joint, and has
apparently little hope of the future, he still believes in justice and
goodness. He is often righteously indignant, but never satirical, and
such a pessimism as that of Tacitus and Juvenal is wholly foreign to his
nature.
Though he studied and even wrote on philosophy (Seneca, _Ep._ 100. 9),
Livy is by no means a philosophic historian. We learn indeed from
incidental notices that he inclined to Stoicism and disliked the
Epicurean system. With the scepticism that despised the gods (x. 40) and
denied that they meddled with the affairs of men (xliii. 13) he has no
sympathy. The immortal gods are everywhere the same; they govern the
world (xxxvii. 45) and reveal the future to men by signs and wonders
(xliii. 13), but only a debased superstition will look for their hand in
every petty incident, or abandon itself to an indiscriminate belief in
the portents and miracles in which popular credulity delights. The
ancient state religion of Rome, with its temples, priests and auguries,
he not only reverences as an integral part of the Roman constitution,
with a sympathy which grows as he studies it, but, like Varro, and in
true Stoic fashion, he regards it as a valuable instrument of government
(i. 19. 21), indispensable in a well-ordered community. As distinctly
Stoical is the doctrine of a fate to which even the gods must yield (ix.
4), which disposes the plans of men (i. 42) and blinds their minds (v.
37), yet leaves their wills free (xxxvii. 45).