BOOK I

Produced by Anne Soulard, Tiffany Vergon, Charles Aldarondo,

and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

THE REIGN OF TIBERIUS, OUT OF THE FIRST SIX ANNALS OF TACITUS

WITH HIS ACCOUNT OF GERMANY, AND LIFE OF AGRICOLA

By Tacitus

Translated By Thomas Gordon

And Edited By Arthur Galton

"Alme Sol, curru nitido diem qui

Promis et celas, aliusque et idem

Nasceris, possis nihil urbe Roma

Visere maius."

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

THE ANNALS, BOOK I

THE ANNALS, BOOK II

THE ANNALS, BOOK III

THE ANNALS, BOOK IV

THE ANNALS, BOOK V

THE ANNALS, BOOK VI

A TREATISE OF THE SITUATION, CUSTOMS, AND PEOPLE OF GERMANY

THE LIFE OF AGRICOLA; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE SITUATION, CLIMATE, AND

PEOPLE OF BRITAIN

INTRODUCTION

"I am going to offer to the publick the Translation of a work, which,

for wisdom and force, is in higher fame and consideration, than almost

any other that has yet appeared amongst men:" it is in this way, that

Thomas Gordon begins The Discourses, which he has inserted into his

rendering of Tacitus; and I can find none better to introduce this

volume, which my readers owe to Gordon's affectionate and laborious

devotion. Caius Cornelius Tacitus, the Historian, was living under those

Emperors, who reigned from the year 54 to the year 117, of the Christian

era; but the place and the date of his birth are alike uncertain, and

the time of his death is not accurately known. He was a friend of the

younger Pliny, who was born in the year 61; and, it is possible,

they were about the same age. Some of Pliny's letters were written to

Tacitus: the most famous, describes that eruption of Mount Vesuvius,

which caused the death of old Pliny, and overwhelmed the cities of

Pompeii and of Herculaneum. The public life of Tacitus began under

Vespasian; and, therefore, he must have witnessed some part of the reign

of Nero: and we read in him, too, that he was alive after the accession

of the Emperor Trajan. In the year 77, Julius Agricola, then Consul,

betrothed his daughter to Tacitus; and they were married in the

following year. In 88, Tacitus was Praetor; and at the Secular Games of

Domitian, he was one of the _Quindecimviri_: these were sad and solemn

officers, guardians of the Sibylline Verse; and intercessors for the

Roman People, during their grave centenaries of praise and worship.

_Quaeque Aventinum tenet Algidumque,

Quindecim Diana preces virorum

Curet; et vobis pueorum amicas

Applicet aures._

From a passage in "The Life of Agricola," we may believe that Tacitus

attended in the Senate; for he accuses himself as one of that frightened

assembly, which was an unwilling participator in the cruelties of

Domitian. In the year 97, when the Consul Virginius Rufus died, Tacitus'

was made _Consul Suffectus_; and he delivered the funeral oration of his

predecessor: Pliny says, that "it completed the good fortune of Rufus,

to have his panegyric spoken by so eloquent a man." From this, and from

other sayings, we learn that Tacitus was a famous advocate; and his

"Dialogue about Illustrious Orators" bears witness to his admirable

taste, and to his practical knowledge of Roman eloquence: of his own

orations, however, not a single fragment has been left. We know not,

whether Tacitus had children; but the Emperor Tacitus, who reigned in

275, traced his genealogy to the Historian. "If we can prefer personal

merit to accidental greatness," Gibbon here observes, "we shall esteem

the birth of Tacitus more truly noble than that of Kings. He claimed his

descent from the philosophic historian, whose writings will instruct the

last generations of mankind. From the assiduous study of his immortal

ancestor, he derived his knowledge of the Roman Constitution and of

human nature." This Emperor gave orders, that the writings of Tacitus

should be placed in all the public libraries; and that ten copies should

be taken annually, at the public charge. Notwithstanding the Imperial

anxiety, a valuable part of Tacitus is lost: indeed we might argue, from

the solicitude of the Emperor, as well as from his own "distinction,"

that Tacitus could not be generally popular; and, in the sixteenth

century, a great portion of him was reduced to the single manuscript,

which lay hidden within a German monastery. Of his literary works, five

remain; some fairly complete, the rest in fragments. Complete, are "The

Life of Julius Agricola," "The Dialogue on Orators," and "The Account

of Germany": these are, unfortunately, the minor works of Tacitus. His

larger works are "The History," and "The Annals." "The History" extended

from the second Consulship of Galba, in the year 69, to the murder of

Domitian, in the year 96; and Tacitus desired to write the happy times

of Nerva, and of Trajan: we are ignorant, whether infirmity or death

prevented his design. Of "The History," only four books have been

preserved; and they contain the events of a single year: a year, it is

true, which, saw three civil wars, and four Emperors destroyed; a year

of crime, and accidents, and prodigies: there are few sentences more

powerful, than Tacitus' enumeration of these calamities, in the opening

chapters. The fifth book is imperfect; it is of more than common

interest to some people, because Tacitus mentions the siege of Jerusalem

by Titus; though what he says about the Chosen People, here and

elsewhere, cannot be satisfactory to them nor gratifying to their

admirers. With this fragment, about revolts in the provinces of Gaul

and Syria, "The History" ends. "The Annals" begin with the death of

Augustus, in the year 14; and they were continued until the death of

Nero, in 68. The reign of Tiberius is nearly perfect, though the fall

of Sejanus is missing out of it. The whole of Caligula, the beginning of

Claudius, and the end of Nero, have been destroyed: to those, who know

the style of Tacitus and the lives and genius of Caligula and Nero, the

loss is irreparable; and the admirers of Juvenal must always regret,

that from the hand of Tacitus we have only the closing scene, and not

the golden prime, of Messalina.

The works of Tacitus are too great for a Camelot volume; and, therefore,

I have undertaken a selection of them. I give entire, "The Account of

Germany" and "The Life of Agricola": these works are entertaining, and

should have a particular interest for English readers. I have added to

them, the greater portion of the first six books of "The Annals"; and

I have endeavoured so to guide my choice, that it shall present the

history of Tiberius. In this my volume, the chapters are not numbered:

for the omission, I am not responsible; and I can only lament, what I

may not control. But scholars, who know their Tacitus, will perceive

what I have left out; and to those others, who are not familiar with

him, the omission can be no affront. I would say briefly, that I

have omitted some chapters, which describe criminal events and legal

tragedies in Rome: but of these, I have retained every chapter, which

preserves an action or a saying of Tiberius; and what I have inserted

is a sufficient specimen of the remainder. I have omitted many chapters,

which are occupied with wearisome disputes between the Royal Houses

of Parthia and Armenia: and I have spared my readers the history of

Tacfarinas, an obscure and tedious rebel among the Moors; upon whose

intricate proceedings Tacitus appears to have relied, when he was at a

loss for better material. To reject any part of Tacitus, is a painful

duty; because the whole of him is good and valuable: but I trust, that I

have maintained the unity of my selection, by remembering that it is to

be an history of Tiberius.

Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar, the third master of the Roman world,

derived his origin, by either parent, from the Claudian race; the

proudest family, and one of the most noble and illustrious, in the

ancient Commonwealth: the pages of Livy exhibit the generosity, the

heroism, and the disasters, of the Claudii; who were of unequal fortune

indeed, but always magnificent, in the various events of peace and

war. Suetonius enumerates, among their ancestral honours, twenty-eight

Consulships, five Dictators, seven Censorial commissions, and seven

triumphs: their _cognomen_ of Nero, he says, means in the Sabine tongue

"vigorous and bold," _fortis et strenuus_; and the long history of the

Claudian House does not belie their gallant name. Immediately after the

birth of Tiberius, or perhaps before it, his mother Livia was divorced

from Claudius, and married by Augustus: the Empress is revealed

mysteriously and almost as a divine being, in the progress of "The

Annals." The Emperor adopted the offspring of Claudius: among the

Romans, these legal adoptions were as valid as descent by blood; and

Tiberius was brought up to be the son of Caesar. His natural parts were

improved and strengthened, by the training of the Forum and the camp.

Tiberius became a good orator; and he gained victory and reputation, in

his wars against the savages of Germany and Dalmatia: but his peculiar

talent was for literature; in this, "he was a great purist, and affected

a wonderful precision about his words." He composed some Greek poems,

and a Latin Elegy upon Lucius Caesar: he also wrote an account of his

own life, an _Apologia_; a volume, which the Emperor Domitian was

never tired of reading. But the favourite pursuit of Tiberius was Greek

divinity; like some of the mediaeval Doctors, he frequented the by-ways

of religion, and amused his leisure with the more difficult problems in

theology: "Who was Hecuba's mother?" "What poetry the Sirens chaunted?"

"What was Achilles' name, when he lay hid among the women?" The writings

of Tiberius have all perished; and in these days, we have only too much

cause to regret, that nothing of his "precision" has come down to us.

The battles of Tiberius are celebrated in the Odes of Horace: one of the

Epistles is addressed to him; and in another, written to Julius Florus,

an officer with Tiberius, Horace enquires about the learned occupations

of the Imperial cohort.

_Quid studiosa Cohors operum struit? Hoc quoque curo._

It was from his commerce with the Ancients, as I always think, that

George Buchanan derived his opinion, strange to modern ears, that "a

great commander must of necessity have all the talents of an author."

Velleius Paterculus, who served with Tiberius in his campaigns, tells us

of his firm discipline, and of his kindness to the soldiers.

The Caesars Caius and Lucius, grandsons of Augustus, Marcellus his

nephew, and Drusus the brother of Tiberius, all died: they died young,

rich in promise, the darlings of the Roman People; "Breves et infaustos

Populi Romani amores;" and thus, in the procession of events, Tiberius

became the heir. "The Annals" open with his accession, and Tacitus has

narrated the vicissitudes of his reign. Velleius Paterculus has written

its happier aspects: he describes how the "Pax Augusta," the "Roman

Peace," delivered every quarter of the world from violence. He

celebrates the return of Justice and prosperity, of order, of mild and

equable taxation, of military discipline and magisterial authority. It

is like the Saturnian Reign, which Virgil sings in the Eclogue "Pollio."

The first action of Tiberius was to canonise his father, and Augustus

was translated to the banquet of the Gods:

_Quos inter Augustus recumbens,

Purpureo bibit ore nectar._

Augustus was his great example; "he not only called him, but considered

him, divine;" "non appelavit eum, sed facit Deum." The Latin of

Paterculus is here so elegant and happy, that, for the pleasure of the

learned, I transcribe it: for others, I have already given something

of the sense. "Revocata in forum fides; submota e foro seditio, ambitio

campo, discordia curia: sepultaeque ac situ obsitae, justitia, aequitas,

industria, civitati, redditae; accessit magistratibus auctoritas,

senatui majestas, judiciis gravitas; compressa theatralis seditio;

recte faciendi, omnibus aut incussa voluntas aut imposita necessitas.

Honorantur recta, prava puniuntur. Suspicit potentem humilis, non timet.

Antecedit, non contemnit, humiliorem potens. Quando annona moderatior?

Quando pax laetior? Diffusa in Orientis Occidentisque tractus, quidquid

meridiano aut septentrione finitur, Pax Augusta, per omnes terrarum

orbis angulos metu servat immunes. Fortuita non civium tantummodo, sed

Urbium damna, Principis munificentia vindicat. Restitutae urbes

Asiae: vindictae ab injuriis magistratuum provinciae. Honor dignis

paratissimus: poena in malos sera, sed aliqua. Superatur aequitate

gratia, ambitio virtute: nam facere recte cives suos, Princeps optimus

faciendo docet; cumque sit imperio maximus, exemplo major est."

Tiberius reigned from the year 14, to the year 37. He died in the villa

of Lucullus, and he was buried in the mausoleum of the Caesars. The

manner of his death is variously related: Tacitus gives one account;

Suetonius, another. According to the last writer, he died like George

II., alone, having just risen from his bed; and he was thus found by

his attendants: "Seneca cum scribit subito vocatis ministris, ac nemine

respondente, consurrexisse; nec procul a lectulo, deficientibus viribus,

concidisse." Tiberius was tall, and beautiful. Suetonius tells us of

his great eyes, which could see in the dark; of his broad shoulders,

his martial bearing, and the fine proportion of his limbs: he describes,

too, the unusual strength of his hands and fingers, especially of the

left hand. His health was good; because, from his thirtieth year, he

was his own physician. "Valetudine prosperrima usus est, tempore quidem

principatus paene toto prope illesa; quamvis a trigesimo aetatis anno

arbitratu eam suo rexerit, sine adjutamento consiliove medicorum." The

Emperor Julian describes him "severe and grim; with a statesman's care,

and a soldier's frankness, curiously mingled:" this was in his old age.

_Down the pale cheek, long lines of shadow slope;

Which years, and curious thought, and suffering give._

At Rome, is a sculpture of Tiberius; he is represented young, seated,

crowned with rays, exceedingly handsome and majestic: if the figure were

not known to be a Caesar, the beholder would say it was a God.

There is another personage in "The Annals," whose history there is

mutilated, and perhaps dissembled; of whose character my readers may

like to know something more, than Tacitus has told them: I mean Sejanus,

a man always to be remembered; because whatever judgment we may form

about his political career, and on this question the authorities are

divided, yet it is admitted by them all, that he introduced those

reforms among the Praetorian Cohorts, which made them for a long time,

proprietors of the throne, and the disposers of the Imperial office. To

this minister, Paterculus attributes as many virtues as he has bestowed

upon Tiberius: "a man grave and courteous," he says, "with 'a fine

old-fashioned grace'; leisurely in his ways, retiring, modest; appearing

to be careless, and therefore gaining all his ends; outwardly polite and

quiet, but an eager soul, wary, inscrutable, and vigilant." Whatever he

may have been in reality, he was at one time valued by Tiberius. "The

whole Senate," Bacon says, "dedicated an altar to Friendship as to a

Goddess, in respect of the great Dearness of Friendship between them

two:" and in the Essay "Of Friendship," Bacon has many deep sentences

about the favourites of Kings, their "Participes Curarum." I would

summon out of "The Annals," that episode of Tiberius imprisoned within

the falling cave, and shielded by Sejanus from the descending roof.

"Coelo Musa beat:" Sejanus has propitiated no Muse; and although

something more, than the "invida taciturnitas" of the poet, lies heavy

upon his reputation, he shall find no apologist in me. But over against

the hard words of Tacitus, it is only fair to place the commendations

of Paterculus, and even Tacitus remarks, that after the fall of Sejanus,

Tiberius became worse; like Henry VIII., after the fall of Wolsey. Livia

and Sejanus are said by Tacitus, to have restrained the worst passions

of the Emperor. The two best authorities contradict one another; they

differ, as much as our political organs differ, about the characters of

living statesmen: and who are we, to decide absolutely, from a distance

of two thousand years, at our mere caprice, and generally without

sufficient evidence, that one ancient writer is correct; and another,

dishonest or mistaken? This is only less absurd, than to prefer the

groping style and thoughts of a modern pedant, usually a German as

well, to the clear words of an old writer, who may be the sole remaining

authority for the statements we presume to question; or for those

very facts, upon which our reasonings depend. And how easy it is to

misunderstand what we read in ancient histories, to be deceived by the

plainest records, or to put a sinister interpretation upon events, which

in their own time were passed over in silence or officially explained

as harmless! Let me take an illustration, of what I mean, from something

recent. Every one must remember the last hours of the Emperor Frederick:

the avenues to his palace infested by armed men; the gloom and secrecy

within; without, an impatient heir, and the posting to and fro of

messengers. We must own, that the ceremonials of the Prussian Court

departed in a certain measure from the ordinary mild usage of humanity;

but we attributed this to nothing more, than the excitement of a

youthful Emperor, or the irrepressible agitation of German officials.

But if these events should find a place in history, or if the annals of

the Kings of Prussia should be judged worth reading by a distant Age;

who could blame an historian for saying, that these precautions were not

required for the peaceful and innocent devolution of the crown from a

father to his son. Would not our historian be justified, if he referred

to the tumults and intrigues of a Praetorian election; if he compared

these events to the darkest pages in Suetonius, or reminded his

readers of the most criminal narratives in the authors of the "Augustan

History"? From Sejanus and the Emperor William, I return once more to

Tiberius; from the present _Kaiser_, to a genuine Caesar.

It is not my purpose here to abridge Tacitus, to mangle his translator,

nor to try and say what is better said in the body of the volume: but

when my readers have made themselves acquainted with Tiberius, they may

be glad to find some discussion about him, as he is presented to us in

"The Annals"; and among all the personages of history, I doubt if there

be a more various or more debated character. Mr. Matthew Arnold thus

describes him:

_Cruel, but composed and bland,

Dumb, inscrutable and grand;

So Tiberius might have sat,

Had Tiberius been a cat._

And these verses express the popular belief, with great felicity: I

must leave my readers, to make their own final judgment for themselves.

Whether Tacitus will have helped them to a decision, I cannot guess: he

seems to me, to deepen the mystery of Tiberius. At a first reading, and

upon the surface, he is hostile to the Emperor; there is no doubt, that

he himself remained hostile, and that he wished his readers to take away

a very bad impression: but, as we become familiar with his pages, as

we ponder his words and compare his utterances, we begin to suspect our

previous judgment; another impression steals upon us, and a second, and

a third, until there grows imperceptibly within us a vision of something

different. Out of these dim and floating visions, a clearer image is

gradually formed, with lineaments and features; and, at length, a

new Tiberius is created within our minds: just as we may have seen

a portrait emerge under the artist's hand, from the intricate and

scattered lines upon an easel. Then it dawns upon us, that, after all,

Tacitus was not really an intimate at Capri; that he never received the

secret confidences of Tiberius, nor attended upon his diversions. And at

last it is borne in upon us, as we read, that, if we put aside rumours

and uncertain gossip, whatever Tiberius does and says is unusually fine:

but that Tacitus is not satisfied with recording words and actions;

that he supplies motives to them, and then passes judgment upon his

own assumptions: that the evidence for the murder of Germanicus, for

instance, would hardly be accepted in a court of law; and that if Piso

were there found guilty, the Emperor could not be touched. At any rate,

we find it stated in "The Annals," that "Tiberius by the temptations of

money was incorruptible;" and he refused the legacies of strangers,

or of those who had natural heirs. "He wished to restore the people to

severer manners," like many sovereigns; unlike the most of them, "in his

own household, he observed the ancient parsimony." Besides the "severa

paupertas" of Camillus and Fabricius, he had something of their

primitive integrity; and he declined, with scorn, to be an accomplice in

the proposed assassination of Arminius: "non fraude neque occultis, sed

palam et armatum, Populum Romanum hostes suos ulcisci." He protected

magistrates and poor suitors, against the nobles. He refused to add to

the public burdens, by pensioning needy Senators: but he was

charitable to poor debtors; and lavish to the people, whether Romans or

Provincials, in times of calamity and want. Not least admirable was his

quiet dignity, in periods of disturbance and of panic: he refused to

hurry to the mutinous legions, or to a mean rebellion in Gaul; and he

condescended to reason excellently about his behaviour, when his

people were sane enough to listen. He was both sensible and modest: he

restrained the worship of Augustus, "lest through being too common

it should be turned into an idle ceremony;" he refused the worship of

himself, except in one temple dedicated equally to the Senate and to

the Emperor. Tiberius could be pathetic, too: "I bewail my son, and ever

shall bewail him," he says of Germanicus; and again, "Eloquence is not

measured by fortune, and it is a sufficient honour, if he be ranked

among the ancient orators." "Princes are mortal;" he says again, "the

Commonwealth, eternal." Then his wit, how fine it was; how quick his

humour: when he answered the tardy condolences from Troy, by lamenting

the death of Hector: when he advised an eager candidate, "not to

embarrass his eloquence by impetuosity;" when he said of another, a

low, conceited person, "he gives himself the airs of a dozen ancestors,"

"videtur mihi ex se natus:" when he muttered in the Senate, "O homines

ad servitutem paratos:" when he refused to become a persecutor; "It

would be much better, if the Gods were allowed to manage their own

affairs," "Deorum injurias Dis curae." In all this; in his leisured

ways, in his dislike of parade and ceremonial, in his mockery of

flatterers and venal "patriots"; how like to Charles II., "the last

King of England who was a man of parts." And no one will deny "parts"

to Tiberius; he was equal to the burden of Imperial cares: the latest

researches have discovered, that his provincial administration was

most excellent; and even Tacitus admits, that his choice of magistrates

"could not have been better." He says, in another passage, "The

Emperor's domains throughout Italy, were thin; the behaviour of his

slaves modest; the freed-men, who managed his house, few; and, in his

disputes with particulars, the courts were open and the law equal." This

resembles the account of Antoninus Pius, by Marcus Aurelius; and it is

for this modesty, this careful separation between private and public

affairs, that Tacitus has praised Agricola. I am well contented, with

the virtues of the Antonines; but there are those, who go beyond. I have

seen a book entitled "The History of that Inimitable Monarch Tiberius,

who in the xiv year of his Reign requested the Senate to permit the

worship of Jesus Christ; and who suppressed all Opposition to it." In

this learned volume, it is proved out of the Ancients, that Tiberius was

the most perfect of all sovereigns; and he is shown to be nothing

less than the forerunner of Saint Peter, the first Apostle and the

nursing-father of the Christian Church. The author was a Cambridge

divine, and one of their Professors of mathematics: "a science,"

Goldsmith says, "to which the meanest intellects are equal."

Upon the other hand, we have to consider that view of Tiberius, which is

thus shown by Milton;

_This Emperor hath no son, and now is old;

Old and lascivious: and from Rome retired

To Capreae, an island small but strong,

On the Campanian shore; with purpose there,

His horrid lusts in private to enjoy._

This theme is enlarged by Suetonius, and evidently enjoyed: he

represents Tiberius, as addicted to every established form of vice;

and as the inventor of new names, new modes, and a new convenience, for

unheard-of immoralities. These propensities of the Emperor are handled

by Tacitus with more discretion, though he does not conceal them. I wish

neither to condemn nor to condone Tiberius: I desire, if it be

possible, to see him as he is; and whether he be good or bad, he is very

interesting. I have drawn attention to what is good in "The Annals,"

because Tacitus leans with all his weight upon the bad; and either

explains away what is favourable, or passes over it with too light a

stroke. At the end, I must conclude, as I began, that the character of

Tiberius is a mystery. It is a commonplace, that no man is entirely good

nor entirely evil; but the histories of Tiberius are too contradictory,

to be thus dismissed by a platitude. It is not easy to harmonise

Paterculus with Suetonius: it is impossible to reconcile Tacitus with

himself; or to combine the strong, benevolent ruler with the Minotaur of

Capri. The admirers of an almost perfect prose, must be familiar with a

story, which is not the highest effort of that prose: they will remember

a certain man with a double nature, like all of us; but, unlike us,

able to separate his natures, and to personate at will his good or evil

genius. Tiberius was fond of magic, and of the curious arts: it may be,

that he commanded the secrets of which Mr. Stevenson has dreamed!

The readers of "The Annals" have seen enough of blood, of crime, and of

Tiberius; and I would now engage their attention upon a more pleasing

aspect of Imperial affairs: I wish to speak about the Empire itself;

about its origin, its form, its history: and, if my powers were equal to

the task, I would sketch a model Emperor; Marcus Aurelius, or the elder

Antonine. Gibbon has described the limits of the Roman Empire; which

"comprised the fairest part of the earth, and the most civilised portion

of mankind." Its boundaries were "the Rhine and Danube, on the north;

the Euphrates, on the east; towards the south, the sandy deserts of

Arabia and Africa;" and upon the west, the Atlantic ocean. It was over

this extensive monarchy, that Caesar reigned; by the providence of

Caesar, was the whole defended and administered.

_Quis Parthum paveat? Quis gelidum Scythen

Quis, Germania quos horrida parturit

Fetus, incolumi Caesare?_

The frontiers of the Empire, and its richest provinces, had been

obtained for the most part in the long wars of the Republic. The

conquest of Gaul, and the establishment of the Empire, was achieved

by Julius Caesar; and to him, the civilised world is indebted for that

majestic "Roman Peace," under which it lived and prospered for nearly

nineteen centuries: the Eastern Empire was maintained in Constantinople,

until 1453; and the Empire of the West continued, though in waning

splendour, until the last Caesar abdicated his throne at the order of

Napoleon. The nations of modern Europe were developed out of the ruin

of Caesar's Empire; and from that, the more civilised among them have

obtained the politer share of their laws, their institutions, and their

language: and to Caesar, we are indebted for those inestimable treasures

of antiquity, which the Roman Empire and the Roman Church have preserved

from the barbarians, and have handed on for the delight and the

instruction of modern times. There are those, who can perceive in Caesar

nothing but a demagogue, and a tyrant; and in the regeneration of the

Commonwealth, nothing but a vulgar crime: among these, I am sorry to

inscribe the name of Thomas Gordon. The supporters of this view are

generally misled, by the specious allurements of the term "Republic."

Tiberius, it may be, was not a perfect ruler, and other sovereigns were

even more ferocious; but the excesses of the most reckless Emperor are

hardly to be compared to the wholesale massacres and spoliations,

which attended the last agonies of the expiring Commonwealth. After

the Macedonian and Asiatic wars, we find a turbulent and servile crowd,

instead of the old families and tribes of Roman citizens; instead of

allies, oppressed and plundered provinces; instead of the heroes of the

young Republic, a set of worn-out, lewd, and greedy nobles. By these,

the spoils of the world were appropriated, and its government abused:

Caesar gave the helpless peoples a legal sovereign, and preserved them

from the lawless tyranny of a thousand masters. He narrates himself,

that "he found the Romans enslaved by a faction, and he restored their

liberty:" "Caesar interpellat; ut Populum Romanum, paucorum factione

oppressum, in libertatem vindicat." The march of Caesar into Italy was

a triumphal progress; and there can be no doubt, that the common

people received him gladly. Again he says, "Nihil esse Rempublicam;

appellationem modo, sine corpore et specie;" "The Republic is nothing

but an empty name, a phantom and a shadow." That Caesar should have seen

this, is the highest evidence of his genius: that Cicero did not see it,

is to himself, and to his country, the great misfortune of his career;

and to his admirers, one of the most melancholy events in Roman history.

The opinions of Tacitus were not far removed from the opinions of

Cicero, but they were modified by what he saw of Nerva and of Trajan:

he tells us, how Agricola looked forward to the blessings of a virtuous

Prince; and his own thoughts and writings would have been other, than

they are, had he witnessed the blameless monarchy of Hadrian and the

Antonines. The victims of a bad Emperor were taken usually from among

the nobles; many of them were little better, than their destroyer; and

his murders were confined, almost invariably, within the walls of Rome:

but the benefits of the Imperial system were extended into all the

provinces; and the judgment-seat of Caesar was the protection of

innumerable citizens. Many were the mistakes, many the misfortunes,

deplorable the mischiefs, of the Imperial administration; I wish neither

to deny, nor to conceal them: but here I must content myself with

speaking broadly, with presenting a superficial view of things; and,

upon the whole, the system of the Emperors was less bad than the decayed

and inadequate government, out of which it was developed. For the

change from the Republic to the Empire was hardly a revolution; and

the venerable names and forms of the old organisation were religiously

preserved. Still, the Consuls were elected, the Senate met and

legislated, Praetors and Legates went forth into the provinces, the

Legions watched upon the frontiers, the lesser Magistrates performed

their office; but above them was Caesar, directing all things,

controlling all things; the _Imperator_ and Universal Tribune, in whose

name all was done; the "Praesens Divus," on whom the whole depended; at

once the master of the Imperial Commonwealth, and the minister of the

Roman People.

"The Annals," and the history of Tiberius, have detained us, for the

most part, within the capital: "The Agricola" brings us into a province

of the Empire; and "The Account of Germany" will take us among the

savages beyond the frontier. I need scarcely mention, that our country

was brought within the Roman influence by Julius Caesar; but that

Caesar's enterprise was not continued by Augustus, nor by Tiberius;

though Caligula celebrated a fictitious triumph over the unconquered

Britons: that a war of about forty years was undertaken by Claudius,

maintained by Nero, and terminated by Domitian; who were respectively

"the most stupid, the most dissolute, and the most timid of all the

Emperors." It was in the British wars, that Vespasian began his great

career, "monstratus fatis"; but the island was not really added to the

Empire, until Agricola subdued it for Domitian. "The Life of Agricola"

is of general interest, because it preserves the memory of a good and

noble Roman: to us, it is of special interest, because it records the

state of Britain when it was a dependency of the Caesars; "adjectis

Britannis imperio." Our present fashions in history will not allow us

to think, that we have much in common with those natives, whom Tacitus

describes: but fashions change, in history as in other things; and in

a wiser time we may come to know, and be proud to acknowledge, that

we have derived a part of our origin, and perhaps our fairest

accomplishments, from the Celtic Britons. The narrative of Tacitus

requires no explanation; and I will only bring to the memory of my

readers, Cowper's good poem on Boadicea. We have been dwelling upon the

glories of the Roman Empire: it may be pardonable in us, and it is not

unpleasing, to turn for a moment, I will not say to "the too vast orb"

of our fate, but rather to that Empire which is more extensive than the

Roman; and destined to be, I hope, more enduring, more united, and more

prosperous. Horace will hardly speak of the Britons, as humane beings,

and he was right; in his time, they were not a portion of the Roman

World, they had no part in the benefits of the Roman government: he

talks of them, as beyond the confines of civility, "in ultimos orbis

Britannos;" as cut off by "the estranging sea," and there jubilant in

their native practices, "Visum Britannos hospitibus feros." But Cowper

says, no less truly, of a despised and rebel Queen;

_Regions Caesar never knew,

Thy posterity shall sway;

Where his Eagles never flew,

None invincible as they._

The last battles of Agricola were fought in Scotland; and, in the pages

of Tacitus, he achieved a splendid victory among the Grampian hills.

Gibbon remarks, however, "The native Caledonians preserved in the

northern extremity of the island their wild independence, for which

they were not less indebted to their poverty than to their valour. Their

incursions were frequently repelled and chastised; but their country was

never subdued. The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of

the globe turned with contempt from gloomy hills assailed by the winter

tempest, from lakes concealed in a blue mist, and from cold and lonely

heaths, over which the deer of the forest were chased by a troop of

naked barbarians." The Scotch themselves are never tired of asserting,

and of celebrating, their "independence"; Scotland imposed a limit to

the victories of the Roman People, Scaliger says in his compliments to

Buchanan:

_Imperii fuerat Romani Scotia lines._

But it may be questioned, whether it were an unmixed blessing, to

be excluded from the Empire; and to offer a sullen resistance to its

inestimable gifts of humane life, of manners, and of civility.

To these things, the Germans also have manifested a strong dislike; and

they are more censurable than the Scotch, because all their knowledge of

the Romans was not derived from the intercourse of war. "The Germany"

of Tacitus is a document, that has been much discussed; and these

discussions may be numbered among the most flagrant examples of literary

intemperance: but this will not surprise us, when we allow for the

structure of mind, the language, and the usual productions of those,

to whom the treatise is naturally of the greatest importance. In the

description of the Germans, Tacitus goes out of his way to laugh at the

"licentia vetustatis," "the debauches of pedants and antiquarians;"

as though he suspected the fortunes of his volume, and the future

distinctions of the Teutonic genius. For sane readers, it will be enough

to remark, that the Germany of Tacitus was limited, upon the west, by

the natural and proper boundary of the Rhine; that it embraced a portion

of the Low Countries; and that, although he says it was confined within

the Danube, yet the separation is not clear between the true Germans and

those obscurer tribes, whose descendants furnish a long enumeration

of titles to the present melancholy sovereign of the House of Austria.

Gibbon remarks, with his usual sense, "In their primitive state of

simplicity and independence, the Germans were surveyed by the discerning

eye, and delineated by the masterly pencil of Tacitus, the first

historian who supplied the science of philosophy to the study of facts.

The expressive conciseness of his descriptions has deserved to exercise

the diligence of innumerable antiquarians, and to excite the genius and

penetration of the philosophic historians of our own time." Upon a

few sentences out of the "Germania"; which relate to the kings, to the

holding of land, to the public assemblies, and to the army; an imposing

structure of English constitutional history has been erected: our modern

historians look upon this treatise with singular approval; because

it shows them, they say, the habits of their own forefathers in their

native settlements. They profess to be enchanted with all they read;

and, in their works, they betray their descent from the ancestors they

admire. Gibbon says, prettily, "Whenever Tacitus indulges himself in

those beautiful episodes, in which he relates some domestic transaction

of the Germans or of the Parthians, his principal object is to relieve

the attention of the reader from an uniform scene of vice and misery."

Whether he succeeds, I must leave my readers to decide. Tacitus

describes the quarrels of the Germans; fought, then with weapons; now,

with words: their gambling, their sloth, their drunkenness. "Strong

beer, a liquor extracted with very little art from wheat or barley,

and _corrupted_ (as it is strongly expressed by Tacitus) into a certain

semblance of wine, was sufficient for the gross purposes of German

debauchery." Tacitus informs us, too, "that they sleep far into the day;

that on rising they take a bath, usually of warm water; then they eat."

To pass an entire day and night in drinking, disgraces no one: "Dediti

somno ciboque," he says; a people handed over to sloth and gluttony.

Some of these customs are now almost obsolete; the baths, for instance.

In others, there has been little alteration since the Age of Tacitus;

and the Germans have adhered, with obstinate fidelity, to their

primitive habits. Tacitus thought less of their capacity, upon the

whole, than it is usual to think now: "The Chatti," he says, "for

Germans, have much intelligence;" "Leur intelligence et leur finesse

étonnent, dans des Germains." But let us forget these "Tedeschi lurchi,

non ragionam di lor;" and pass on to those manly virtues, which Tacitus

records: To abandon your shield, is the basest of crimes, "relicta non

bene parmula;" nor may a man thus disgraced be present at their sacred

rites, nor enter their council; many, indeed, after escaping from

battle, have ended their infamy with the halter. And to more shameful

crimes, they awarded a sterner punishment:

_Behind flock'd wrangling up a piteous crew

Greeted of none, disfeatured and forlorn:

Cowards, who were in sloughs interr'd alive;

And round them still the wattled hurdles hung

Wherewith they stamp'd them down, and trod them deep,

To hide their shameful memory from men._

Having now surveyed the compositions in this volume, it is proper that

we should at length devote some of our notice to Gordon himself, and to

his manner of presenting Tacitus. Thomas Gordon was born in Scotland;

the date has not yet been ascertained. He is thought to have been

educated at a northern university, and to have become an Advocate.

Later, he went to London; and taught languages. Two pamphlets on

the Bangorian controversy brought him into notice; and he wrote

many religious and political dissertations. "A Defence of Primitive

Christianity, against the Exhorbitant Claims of Fanatical and

Dissaffected Clergymen;" "Tracts on Religion, and on the Jacobite

Rebellion of '45;" "The Pillars of Priestcraft and Orthodoxy Shaken;" "A

Cordial for Low Spirits;" are the titles of some of his compositions.

In politics, and in theology, he was a republican and free-thinker: he

translated and edited "The Spirit of Ecclesiastics in All Ages;" he

was a contributor to "The Independent Whig;" and in a series of "Cato's

Letters," he discoursed at ease upon his usual topics. The Tacitus was

published in 1728, in two volumes folio: long dissertations are inserted

in either volume; the literature in them excellent, the politics not so

good: the volumes, as well as the several parts of them, are dedicated

to some Royal and many Noble Patrons. Gordon has also turned Sallust

into English: the book was published in 1744, in one handsome quarto;

"with Political Discourses upon that Author and Translations of

Cicero's Four Orations against Cataline." Walpole made Gordon the first

commissioner of wine licences. It is handed down, that Gordon was a

burly person, "large and corpulent." It is believed, that he found his

way into "The Dunciad," and that he is immortalised there among the

"Canaille Écrivante;" the line

_Where Tindal dictates and Silenus snores_,

is taken to be Pope's description of him. Gordon died in 1750; at the

same time as Dr. Middleton, the elegant biographer of Cicero: Lord

Bolingbroke is said to have observed, when the news was told him, "Then

is the best writer in England gone, and the worst." That Bolingbroke

should have disliked Gordon and his politics, does not surprise me; but

I cannot understand for what reason he, and other good judges, despised

his writings. "The chief glory of every people arises from its authors,"

Dr. Johnson says; and happy the people, I would assert, who have no

worse writers than Thomas Gordon. I wish to draw attention to Gordon's

correct vocabulary, to his bold and pregnant language, and to his

scholarly punctuation. Among our present writers, the art of punctuation

is a lost accomplishment; and it is usual now to find writings with

hardly anything but full stops; colons and semicolons are almost

obsolete; commas are neglected, or misused; and our slovenly pages are

strewn with dashes, the last resources of an untidy thinker, the certain

witnesses to a careless and unfinished sentence. How different, and

how superior, is the way of Gordon; who, though he can be homely and

familiar, never lays aside the well-bred and courteous manners of a

polished Age. In his writings, the leading clauses of a sentence are

distinguished by their colons: the minor clauses, by their semicolons;

the nice meaning of the details is expressed, the pleasure and the

convenience of his readers are alike increased, by his right and elegant

use of commas. The comma, with us, is used as a loop or bracket, and

for little else: by the more accurate scholars of the last Age, it

was employed to indicate a finer meaning; to mark an emphasis, or an

elision; to introduce a relative clause; to bring out the value of an

happy phrase, or the nice precision of an epithet. And thus the authors

of the great century of prose, that orderly and spacious time, assembled

their words, arranged their sentences, and marshalled them into careful

periods: without any loss to the subtile meaning of their thought,

or any sacrifice of vigour, they exposed their subject in a dignified

procession of stately paragraphs; and when the end is reached we look

back upon a perfect specimen of the writer's art. We have grown careless

about form, we have little sense for balance and proportion, and we

have sacrificed the good manners of literature to an ill-bred liking

for haste and noise: it has been decided, that the old way of writing

is cumbersome and slow; as well might some guerilla chieftain have

announced to his fellow-barbarians, that Caesar's legions were not swift

and beautiful in their manoeuvres, nor irresistible in their advance. I

have spoken of our long sentences, with nothing but full stops: they

are variegated, here and there, with shorter sentences, sometimes of two

words; this way of writing is common in Macaulay or in the histories of

Mr. Green, and I have seen it recommended in Primers of Literature and

Manuals of Composition. With the jolting and unconnected fragments of

these authorities, I would contrast the musical and flowing periods of

Dr. Johnson's "Lives of the Poets": to study these works in solitude,

will probably be sufficient to justify my preference; but to hear them

read aloud, should convert the most unwilling listener into an advocate

of my opinion.

Dr. Birkbeck Hill, in the delightful Preface to his Boswell, explains

how he was turned by a happy chance to the study of the literature of

the eighteenth century; and how he read on and on in the enchanting

pages of "The Spectator." "From Addison in the course of time I passed

on," he continues, "to the other great writers of his and the succeeding

age, finding in their exquisitely clear style, their admirable

common-sense, and their freedom from all the tricks of affectation, a

delightful contrast to so many of the eminent authors of our own time."

These words might be used of Gordon: I do not claim for him the style of

Addison, nor the accomplished negligence of Goldsmith; these are graces

beyond the reach of art; but he exhibits the common-sense, and the clear

style, of the eighteenth century. Like all the good writers of his time,

he is unaffected and "simplex munditiis"; he has the better qualities

of Pyrrha, and is "plain in his neatness." In Mr. Ward's edition of the

English Poets, there may be read side by side a notice of Collins and of

Gray; the one by Mr. Swinburne, the other by Mr. Matthew Arnold: I

make no allusion here to the greatness of either poet, to the merits of

either style, nor to the value of either criticism. But the essay upon

Gray is quiet in tone; it has an unity of treatment, and never deserts

the principal subject; it is suffused with light, and full of the

most delicate allusions: the essay on Collins, by being written in

superlatives and vague similes, deafens and perplexes the reader; and

the author, by squandering his resources, has no power to make fine

distinctions, nor to exalt one part of his thesis above another. These

two performances illustrate the last quality in Gordon, and in the old

writers, to which I shall draw attention: they were always restrained

in their utterances, and therefore they could be discriminating in

their judgments; they could be emphatic without noise, and deep without

obscurity, ornamental but not vulgar, carefully arranged but not stiff

or artificial. They exhibit the three indispensable gifts of the

finest authorship: "simplicitas munditiis," "lucidus ordo," "curiosa

felicitas."

In this volume, Gordon's punctuation has been generally followed: his

orthography has been modernised a little, though not by my hands,

nor with my consent; and I have observed without regret, that some of

Gordon's original spellings have eluded the vigilance of the printer:

that stern official would by no means listen to my entreaties for the

long "SS," the turn-over words, or the bounteous capitals, which add so

much to the seductive and sober dignity of an eighteenth-century page;

but, on the whole, we have given a tolerable reproduction of Gordon's

folio. In the second edition, he himself made more changes than

improvements. I will not say, that Gordon has always conveyed the exact

meaning of the sentences of Tacitus: but he has done what is better,

and more difficult; he has grasped the broad meaning of his author, and

caught something of his lofty spirit. "A translation," he says, "ought

to read like an original;" and Gordon has not failed, I think, to reach

this perfection. It is not commonly attained among translators: Gordon

says, of one rendering of Tacitus, "'Tis not the fire of Tacitus, but

his embers; quenched with English words, cold and Gothick." Of

the author of another version, he says "Learning is his chief

accomplishment, and thence his translation is a very poor one." This

judgment is true of most modern translations from the Ancients; they

may be correct versions, but are miserable English: the authors, while

studying the most perfect models of the art of writing, have produced

copies which are not literature at all. From this low company, I would

rescue Sir Charles Bowen's "Virgil": a delightful poem, to those who are

ignorant of Latin; an exquisite production, and an amazing triumph,

to those who converse with the original. There are many English

translations of Tacitus: the first, by Sir Henry Savile and "one

Greenway"; the former, says Gordon, "has performed like a schoolmaster,

the latter like a school-boy." Anthony à Wood writes in another strain,

in the "Athenae Oxonienis": "A rare Translation it is, and the Work of

a very Great Master indeed, both in our Tongue and that Story. For if

we consider the difficulty of the Original, and the Age wherein the

Translation lived, it is both for the exactness of the version, and

the chastity of the Language, one of the most accurate and perfect

translations that ever were made into English." There is a rendering

by Murphy, diffuse and poor; a dilution of Gordon, worthy neither of

Tacitus nor of the English tongue. There are translations, too, into

almost every modern language: I would give the highest praise to

Davanzati; a scholar of Tuscany, who lived in the sixteenth century.

In French, I cannot but admire the labours of M. Burnouf: although the

austere rules, the precise constructions, and the easy comportment of

the French prose are not suited to the style of Tacitus, and something

of his weight and brevity are lost; yet the translator never loses the

depth and subtilty of his author's meaning; his work is agreeable to

read, and very useful to consult. The maps and the genealogical tables

in the three volumes of Messrs. Church and Brodribb's translation are

also of the greatest service, and the notes are sometimes most amusing.

Of Tacitus himself, there is little for me to say: those, who know him,

can judge for themselves; to those who do not, no words are able to

convey an adequate impression. "Who is able to infuse into me," Cardinal

Newman asks, "or how shall I imbibe, a sense of the peculiarities of

the style of Cicero or Virgil, if I have not read their writings? No

description, however complete, could convey to my mind an exact likeness

of a tune, or an harmony, which I have never heard; and still less of a

scent, which I have never smelled: and if I said that Mozart's melodies

were as a summer sky, or as the breath of Zephyr, I shall be better

understood by those who knew Mozart, than by those who did not." These

truths are little remembered by modern critics: though, indeed, it is

not possible to convey to a reader adequate notions about the style

of an author, whom that reader has not pondered for himself; about

his thoughts or his subjects, it may be different. Still, I may write

something about the manner of Tacitus, which will not violate Cardinal

Newman's laws, nor be an outrage to taste and common-sense. "It is the

great excellence of a writer," says Dr. Johnson, "to put into his book

as much as it will hold:" and if this judgment be sound, then is Tacitus

the greatest of all writers in prose. Gordon says of him, "He explains

events with a redundancy of images, and a frugality of words: his

images are many, but close and thick; his words are few, but pointed and

glowing; and even his silence is instructive and affecting. Whatever he

says, you see; and all, that you see, affects you. Let his words be ever

so few, his thought and matter are always abundant. His imagination is

boundless, yet never outruns his judgment; his wisdom is solid and vast,

yet always enlivened by his imagination. He starts the idea, and lets

the imagination pursue it; the sample he gives you is so fine, that you

are presently curious to see the whole piece, and then you have your

share in the merit of the discovery; a compliment, which some able

writers have forgot to pay to their readers." I would remark here, that

many of the old writers give me the sense of handling things, they are

definite and solid; while some of the moderns appear to play with words

only, and never to come up with the objects of their pursuit: "we are

too often ravished with a sonorous sentence," as Dr. Johnson says, "of

which, when the noise is past, the meaning does not long remain." But

of Tacitus, Gordon says, "His words and phrases are admirably adapted

to his matter and conceptions, and make impressions sudden and wonderful

upon the mind of man. Stile is a part of genius, and Tacitus had one

peculiar to himself; a sort of language of his own, one fit to express

the amazing vigour of his spirit, and that redundancy of reflections

which for force and frequency are to be equalled by no writer before nor

since."

Dr. Johnson, however, says in another place, "Tacitus, Sir, seems to me

rather to have made notes for an historical work, than to have written

a history:" I must own, that upon the subject of Tacitus, I prefer the

sentiments of Gordon; and Montaigne would agree with me, for he says, "I

do not know any author, who, in a work of history, has taken so broad

a view of human events, or given a more just analysis of particular

characters." The impressions of Tacitus are indeed wonderful: I doubt,

whether volumes could bring us nearer to the mutinous legions, than the

few chapters in which he records their history. I am always delighted

by Gordon's way of telling the battle, in which the iron men of Sacrovir

were overthrown; the account begins on page 139. Then how satisfying is

the narrative of the wars in Germany, of the shipwreck, of the funeral

of Varus and the slaughtered legions; how pleasing the description of

Germanicus' antiquarian travels in Egypt, and in Greece. Though Tacitus

is not a maker of "descriptions," in our modern sense: there is but one

"description" in "The Annals," so far as I remember, it is of Capri; and

it is not the sort, that would be quoted by a reviewer, as a "beautiful

cameo of description." With Tacitus, a field of battle is not an

occasion for "word-painting," as we call it; the battle is always first,

the scenery of less importance. He tells, what it is necessary to know;

but he is too wise to think, that we can realise from words, a place

which we have never seen; and too sound in his taste, to forget the

wholesome boundaries between poetry and prose. This is the way of all

the ancient writers. In a work on "Landscape," I remember that Mr.

Hamerton mourns over the Commentaries of Caesar; because they do not

resemble the letters of a modern war-correspondent; Ascham, on the other

hand, a man of real taste and learning, says of the Commentaries, "All

things be most perfectly done by him; in Caesar only, could never yet

fault be found." I agree with Ascham: I think I prefer the Commentaries

as they are, chaste and quiet; I really prefer them to Mr. Kinglake's

"Crimean War," or to Mr. Forbes' Despatches, or even to the most

effusive pages of Mr. Stanley's book on Africa.

In "The Life of Agricola," I would mention the simplicity of the

treatment and the excellence of the taste. Tacitus does not recite the

whole of Roman history, nor assemble all the worthies out of Plutarch.

Agricola is not compared to the pyramids, to the Flavian circus, nor to

any works of art and literature: these flights of imagination were

not known to the Ancients; but in a learned modern, I have seen Dante

compared to Wagner's operas, to the Parthenon and St. Peter's, and to

Justinian's code. The sanctities of private life are not violated; yet

we know everything, that it is decent to know, about Agricola. Lord

Coleridge has given a beautiful rendering of the closing passages of

"The Agricola," in his account of Mr. Matthew Arnold: these elegant

papers are not only models of good English; but are conspicuous,

among recent obituary notices, for their fine taste and their becoming

reticence. From the excesses of modern biographers, Tacitus was in

little danger; thanks to his Roman sense, and to the qualities of the

Roman Language. "Economy," says Mr. Symonds, "is exhibited in every

element of this athletic tongue. Like a naked gladiator all bone and

muscle, it relies upon bare sinewy strength." That author speaks of "the

austere and masculine virtues of Latin, the sincerity and brevity of

Roman speech;" and Tacitus is, beyond any doubt, the strongest, the

austerest, the most pregnant of all the Romans. "Sanity," says Mr.

Matthew Arnold, in conclusion, "that is the great virtue of the ancient

literature; the want of that is the great defect of the modern, in

spite of all its variety and power." "It is impossible to read the great

ancients, without losing something of our caprice and eccentricity. I

know not how it is, but their commerce with the ancients appears to

me to produce, in those who constantly practise it, a steadying and

composing effect upon the judgment, not of literary works only, but of

men and events in general. They are like persons who have had a very

weighty and impressive experience; they are more truly than others under

the empire of facts, and more independent of the language current among

those with whom they live."

It has been told of Cardinal Newman, that he never liked to pass

a single day, without rendering an English sentence into Latin. To

converse with the Roman authors, to handle their precise and sparing

language, is, I can well believe it, a most wholesome discipline;

and the most efficient remedy against those faults of diffuseness, of

obscurity, and of excess, which are only too common among the writers

of our day. It may have been to this practice, that Cardinal Newman owed

something of his clearness, and of his exquisite simplicity: and for

his style, he should be idolised by every one who has a taste for

literature. I have said many things in praise of the ancient authors: it

pleases me, as I finish, to offer my humble tribute to an author who is

quite our own; to one, who in all his writings has bequeathed us perfect

models of chaste, of lucid, and of melodious prose.

NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD: _September_ 15, 1890.

THE FIRST SIX BOOKS OF THE ANNALS OF TACITUS:

BEING AN HISTORY OF THE EMPEROR TIBERIUS

THE ANNALS OF TACITUS

BOOK I

A.D. 14 AND 15.

Kings were the original Magistrates of Rome: Lucius Brutus founded

Liberty and the Consulship: Dictators were chosen occasionally, and used

only in pressing exigencies. Little more than two years prevailed the

supreme power of the Decemvirate, and the consular jurisdiction of the

military Tribunes not very many. The domination of Cinna was but short,

that of Sylla not long. The authority of Pompey and Crassus was quickly

swallowed up in Caesar; that of Lepidus and Anthony in Augustus. The

Commonwealth, then long distressed and exhausted by the rage of her

civil dissensions, fell easily into his hands, and over her he assumed

a sovereign dominion; yet softened with a venerable name, that of Prince

or Chief of the Senate. But the several revolutions in the ancient

free state of Rome, and all her happy or disastrous events, are already

recorded by writers of signal renown. Nor even in the reign of Augustus

were there wanting authors of distinction and genius to have composed

his story; till by the prevailing spirit of fear, flattery, and

abasement they were checked. As to the succeeding Princes, Tiberius,

Caligula, Claudius, and Nero; the dread of their tyranny, whilst they

yet reigned, falsified their history; and after their fall, the fresh

detestation of their cruelties inflamed their Historians. Hence my own

design of recounting briefly certain incidents in the reign of Augustus,

chiefly towards his latter end, and of entering afterwards more fully

into that of Tiberius and the other three; unbiassed as I am in this

undertaking by any resentment, or any affection; all the influences of

these personal passions being far from me.

When, after the fall of Brutus and Cassius, there remained none to fight

for the Commonwealth, and her arms were no longer in her own hands; when

Sextus Pompeius was utterly defeated in Sicily, Lepidus bereft of

his command. Marc Anthony slain; and of all the chiefs of the late

Dictator's party, only Octavius his nephew was left; he put off the

invidious name of Triumvir, and styling himself Consul, pretended that

the jurisdiction attached to the Tribuneship was his highest aim, as in

it the protection of the populace was his only view: but when once he

had laid his foundations wider, secured the soldiery by liberality and

donations, gained the people by store of provisions, and charmed all

by the blessings and sweetness of public peace, he began by politic

gradations to exalt himself, to extend his domination, and with his own

power to consolidate the authority of the Senate, jurisdiction of the

Magistrate, and weight and force of the Laws; usurpations in which he

was thwarted by no man: all the bravest Republicans and his most

daring foes were slain in battle, or gleaned up by the late sanguinary

proscriptions; and for the surviving Nobility, they were covered with

wealth, and distinguished with public honours, according to the measure

of their debasement, and promptness to bondage. Add, that all the

creatures of this new Power, who in the loss of public freedom had

gained private fortunes, preferred a servile condition, safe and

possessed, to the revival of ancient liberty with personal peril.

Neither were the Provinces averse to the present Revolution, and

Sovereignty of one; since under that of the people and Senate they had

lived in constant fear and mistrust, sorely rent and harassed as they

were by the raging competition amongst our Grandees, as well as by the

grievous rapine and exactions of our Magistrates; in vain too, under

these their oppressions, had been their appeal to the protection of the

laws, which were utterly enfeebled and borne down by might and violence,

by faction and parties; nay, even by subornation and money.

Moreover, Augustus, in order to fortify his domination with collateral

bulwarks, raised his sister's son Claudius Marcellus, a perfect youth,

to the dignity of Pontiff and that of Aedile; preferred Marcus Agrippa

to two successive Consulships, a man in truth meanly born but an

accomplished soldier, and the companion of his victories; and Marcellus,

the husband of Julia, soon after dying, chose him for his son-in-law.

Even the sons of his wife, Tiberius Nero, and Claudius Drusus, he

dignified with high military titles and commands; though his house

was yet supported by descendants of his own blood. For into the Julian

family and name of the Caesars he had already adopted Lucius and Caius,

the sons of Agrippa; and though they were but children, neither of them

seventeen years old, vehement had been his ambition to see them declared

Princes of the Roman Youth and even designed to the Consulship; while

openly, he was protesting against admitting these early honours.

Presently, upon the decease of Agrippa, were these his children snatched

away, either by their own natural but hasty fate, or by the deadly fraud

of their step-mother Livia; Lucius on his journey to command the armies

in Spain; Caius in his return from Armenia, ill of a wound: and as

Drusus, one of her own sons, had been long since dead, Tiberius remained

sole candidate for the succession. Upon this object, centred all

princely honours; he was by Augustus adopted for his son, assumed

Colleague in the Empire, partner in the jurisdiction tribunitial, and

presented under all these dignities to the several armies: instances

of grandeur which were no longer derived from the secret schemes

and plottings of his mother, as in times past, while her husband had

unexceptionable heirs of his own, but thenceforth bestowed at her open

suit. For as Augustus was now very aged, she had over him obtained

such absolute sway, that for her pleasure he banished into the Isle of

Planasia his only surviving grandson, Agrippa Postumus; one, in truth,

destitute of laudable accomplishments, in his temper untractable,

and stupidly conceited of his mighty strength, but branded with no

misdemeanour or transgression. The Emperor had withal set Germanicus,

the son of Drusus, over eight legions quartered upon the Rhine, and

obliged Tiberius to adopt him, though Tiberius had then a son of his

own, one of competent years; but it was the study of Augustus, to secure

himself and the succession by variety of stays and engraftments. War at

that time there was none, except that in Germany, kept on foot rather

to abolish the disgrace sustained by Quinctilius Varus, there slain with

his army, than from any ambition to enlarge the Empire, or for any other

valuable advantage. In profound tranquillity were affairs at Rome. To

the Magistrates remained 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 frame and economy of Rome being thus totally overturned, amongst

the Romans were no longer found any traces of their primitive spirit,

or attachment to the virtuous institutions of antiquity. But as the

equality of the whole was extinguished by the sovereignty of one, all

men regarded the orders of the Prince as the only rule of conduct and

obedience; nor felt they any anxiety, while Augustus yet retained vigour

of life, and upheld the credit of his administration with public peace,

and the imperial fortune of his house. But when he became broken with

the pressure of age and 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 reason idly about the blessings and recovery of

Liberty; many dreaded a civil war, others longed for one; while far the

greater part were uttering their several apprehensions of their future

masters; "that naturally stern and savage was the temper of Agrippa,

and by his public contumely enraged into fury; and neither in age nor

experience was he equal to the weight of Empire. Tiberius indeed had

arrived at fulness of years, and was a distinguished captain, but

possessed the inveterate pride entailed upon the Claudian race; and many

indications of a cruel nature escaped him, in spite of all his arts to

disguise it; besides that from his early infancy he was trained up in a

reigning house, and even in his youth inured to an accumulation of power

and honours, consulships and triumphs: nor during the several years of

his abode at Rhodes, where, under the plausible name of retirement, a

real banishment was covered, did he exercise other occupation than that

of meditating future vengeance, studying the arts of treachery, and

practising secret, abominable sensualities: add to these considerations,

that of his mother, a woman inspired with all the tyranny of her

sex; yes, the Romans must be under bondage to a woman, and moreover

enthralled by two youths, who would first combine to oppress the State,

and then falling into dissension, rend it piecemeal."

While the public was engaged in these and the like debates, the illness

of Augustus waxed daily more grievous; and some strongly suspected the

pestilent practices of his wife. For there had been, some months before,

a rumour abroad, that Augustus having singled out a few of his most

faithful servants, and taken Fabius Maximus for his only companion, had,

with no other retinue, sailed secretly over to the Island of Planasia,

there to visit his Grandson Agrippa; that many tears were shed on both

sides, many tokens of mutual tenderness shown, and hopes from thence

conceived, that the unhappy youth would be restored to his own place in

his Grandfather's family. That Maximus had disclosed it to Martia, she

to Livia; and thence the Emperor knew that the secret was betrayed: that

Maximus being soon after dead (dead, as it was doubted, through fear, by

his own hands), Martia was observed, in her lamentations and groans

at his funeral, to accuse herself as the sad cause of her husband's

destruction. Whatever truth was in all this, Tiberius was scarce entered

Illyrium, but he was hastily recalled by his mother's letters: nor is

it fully known whether at his return to Nola, he found Augustus yet

breathing, or already breathless. For Livia had carefully beset the

palace, and all the avenues to it, with detachments of the guards; and

good news of his recovery were from time to time given out. When she had

taken all measures necessary in so great a conjuncture, in one and the

same moment was published the departure of Augustus, and the accession

of Tiberius.

The first feat of this new reign was the murder of young Agrippa: the

assassin, a bold and determined Centurion, found him destitute of arms,

and little apprehending such a destiny, yet was scarce able to despatch

him. Of this transaction Tiberius avoided any mention in the Senate: he

would have it pass for done by the commands of Augustus; as if he had

transmitted written orders to the Tribune, who guarded Agrippa, "to slay

him the instant he heard of his grandfather's decease." It is very true

that Augustus had made many and vehement complaints of the young man's

obstinate and unruly demeanour, and even solicited from the Senate

a decree to authorise his banishment: but he never hardened himself

against the sentiments of nature, nor in any instance dipped his hands

in his own blood; neither is it credible that he would barbarously

sacrifice the life of his grandson for the security and establishment of

his step-son. More probable it is, that this hasty murder was purely the

work of Tiberius and Livia; that the young Prince, hated and dreaded

by both, fell thus untimely, to rid the one of his apprehensions and

a rival, and to satiate in the other the rancorous spirit of a

step-mother. When the Centurion, according to the custom of the army,

acquainted Tiberius, "that his commands were executed;" he answered, "he

had commanded no such execution, and the Centurion must appear before

the Senate, and for it be answerable to them." This alarmed Sallustius

Crispus, who shared in all his secret counsels, and had sent the

Centurion the warrant: he dreaded that he should be arraigned for the

assassination, and knew it equally perilous either to confess the truth,

and charge the Emperor; or falsely to clear the Emperor, and accuse

himself. Hence he had recourse to Livia, and warned her, "never to

divulge the secrets of the palace, never to expose to public examination

the ministers who advised, nor the soldiers who executed: Tiberius

should beware of relaxing the authority of the Prince, by referring all

things to that of the Senate; since it was the indispensable prerogative

of sovereignty for all men to be accountable only to one."

Now at Rome, Consuls, Senators, and Roman Knights, were all rushing

with emulation into bondage, and the higher the quality of each the more

false and forward the men; all careful so to frame their faces, as to

reconcile false joy for the accession of Tiberius, with feigned sadness

for the loss of Augustus: hence they intermingled fears with gladness,

wailings with gratulations, and all with servile flattery. Sextus

Pompeius and Sextus Apuleius, at that time Consuls, took first the oath

of fidelity to Tiberius; then administered it to Seius Strabo and

Caius Turranius; the former Captain of the Praetorian Guards, the other

Intendant of the Public Stores. The oath was next given to the Senate,

to the people, and to the soldiery: all by the same Consuls; for

Tiberius affected to derive all public transactions from the legal

ministry of the Consuls, as if the ancient Republic still subsisted, and

he were yet unresolved about embracing the sovereign rule: he even owned

in his edict for summoning the Senate, that he issued it by virtue of

the Tribunitial power, granted him under Augustus. The edict, too,

was short and unexceptionably modest. It imported that, "they were to

consider of the funeral honours proper to be paid his deceased Father:

for himself he would not depart from the corpse; and further than this

edict implied, he claimed no share in the public administration." Yet

from the moment Augustus was dead, he usurped all the prerogatives of

imperial state, gave the word to the Praetorian Cohorts; had soldiers

about the palace, guards about his person, went guarded in the street,

guarded to the Senate, and bore all the marks of Majesty: nay, he writ

letters to the several armies in the undisguised style of one already

their Prince: nor did he ever hesitate in expression, or speak with

perplexity, but when he spoke to the Senate. The chief cause of his

obscurity there proceeded from his fear of Germanicus: he dreaded that

he, who was master of so many legions, of numberless auxiliaries, and

of all the allies of Rome; he, who was the darling of the people, might

wish rather to possess the Empire, than to wait for it; he likewise, in

this mysterious way of dealing with the Senate, sought false glory, and

would rather seem by the Commonwealth chosen and called to the Empire,

than to have crept darkly into it by the intrigues of a woman, or by

adoption from a superannuated Prince. It was also afterwards found, that

by this abstruseness and counterfeit irresolution he meant to penetrate

into the designs and inclinations of the great men: for his jealous

spirit construed all their words, all their looks, into crimes; and

stored them up in his heart against a day of vengeance.

When he first met the Senate, he would bear no other business to be

transacted but that about the funeral of Augustus. His last will

was brought in by the Vestal Virgins: in it Tiberius and Livia were

appointed his heirs, Livia adopted into the Julian family, and dignified

with the name of Augusta: into the next and second degree of heirship he

adopted his grandchildren and their children; and in the third degree

he named the great men of Rome, most of them hated by him, but out of

vainglory he named them, and for future renown. His legacies were not

beyond the usual bounds; only he left to the Roman people four hundred

thousand great sesterces, [Footnote: £362,500.] to the populace or

common sort, thirty-five thousand; to every common soldier of the

Praetorian Guards, a thousand small sesterces, [Footnote: £8, 6s. 8d.]

and to every soldier of the Roman legions three hundred. [Footnote: £2,

10s.] The funeral honours were next considered. The chief proposed were

these: Asinius Gallus moved that "the funeral should pass through the

Triumphal Gate:" Lucius Arruntius, "that the titles of all the laws

which he had made, and the names of all the nations which he had

conquered, should be carried before the corpse:" Valerius Messala added,

that "the oath of allegiance to Tiberius should be renewed every year;"

and being asked by Tiberius, "whether at his instigation he had made

that motion?" "I spoke it as my opinion," says Messala; "nor will I ever

be determined by any but my own, in things which concern the commonweal;

let who will be provoked by my freedom." Only this new turn was wanting

to complete the prevailing flattery of the time. The Senators then

concurred in a loud cry, "that upon their own shoulders they must bear

the body to the pile." But Tiberius declined the offer from an arrogant

show of moderation. Moreover, he cautioned the people by an edict, "not

to disturb the funeral functions with a zeal over-passionate, as they

had those of Julius Caesar; nor to insist that the corpse of Augustus

should be burnt rather in the Forum, than in the field of Mars, which

was the place appointed." On the funeral day the soldiers under arms

kept guard; a mighty mockery this to those who had either seen, or heard

their fathers describe, the day when Caesar the Dictator was slain:

servitude was then new, its sorrows yet fresh and bitter; and liberty

unsuccessfully retrieved by a deed which, while it seemed impious to

some, was thought altogether glorious by others, and hence tore Rome

into tumults and the violence of parties: they who knew that turbulent

day, and compared it with the quiet exit of Augustus, ridiculed the

foppery of "calling an aid of soldiers to secure a peaceable burial to a

Prince who had grown old in peace and power, and even provided against a

relapse into liberty, by a long train of successors."

Hence much and various matter of observation concerning Augustus: the

superstitious multitude admired the fortuitous events of his fortune;

"that the last day of his life, and the first of his reign, was the

same; that he died at Nola, in the same village, and in the same house,

and in the same chamber, where his father Octavius died. They observed

to his glory, his many Consulships, equal in number to those of Valerius

Corvinus and of Caius Marius, joined together; that he had exercised the

power of the Tribuneship seven-and-thirty continued years: that he was

one-and-twenty times proclaimed Imperator; with many other numerous

honours repeated to him, or created for him." Men of deeper discernment

entered further into his life, but differed about it. His admirers said,

"that his filial piety to his father Caesar, and the distractions of the

Republic, where the laws no longer governed, had driven him into a civil

war; which, whatever be the first cause, can never be begun or carried,

on by just and gentle means." Indeed, to be revenged on the murderers of

his father, he had made many great sacrifices to the violent genius

of Anthony; many to Lepidus: but when Lepidus was become sunk and

superannuated in sloth; when Anthony was lost headlong in sensuality,

there was then no other remedy for the distracted State, rent piecemeal

by its Chiefs, but the sovereignty of one: Augustus, however, never

had assumed to be over his country King, or Dictator; but settled the

government under the legal name of Prince, or Chief of the Senate: he

had extended the Empire, and set for its bounds the distant ocean

and rivers far remote; the several parts and forces of the State, the

legions, the provinces, and the navy, were all properly balanced and

connected; the citizens lived dutifully under the protection of the

law, the Allies in terms of respect, and Rome itself was adorned with

magnificent structures: indeed, in a few instances he had exerted the

arbitrary violence of power; and in but a few, only to secure the peace

of the whole.

In answer to all this, it was urged, that "his filial piety, and the

unhappy situation of the Republic, were pure pretences; but the ardent

lust of reigning, his true and only motive: with this spirit he had

solicited into his service, by bribery, a body of veteran soldiers: and

though a private youth, without post or magistracy, but, in defiance of

law, levied an army: with this spirit he had debauched and bought

the Roman legions under the Consuls, while he was falsely feigning a

coalition with Pompey's republican party: that soon after, when he had

procured from the Senate, or rather usurped the honours and authority

of the Praetorship; and when Hirtius and Pansa, the two Consuls, were

slain, he seized both their armies: that it was doubted whether the

Consuls fell by the enemy, or whether Pansa was not killed by pouring

poison into his wounds; and Hirtius slain by his own soldiers; and

whether the young Caesar was not the black contriver of this bloody

treason: that by terror he had extorted the Consulship in spite of the

Senate; and turned against the Commonwealth the very arms with which the

Commonwealth had trusted him for her defence against Anthony. Add to all

this his cruel proscriptions, and the massacre of so many citizens, his

seizing from the public and distributing to his own creatures so many

lands and possessions; a violation of property not justified even by

those who gained by it. But, allowing him to dedicate to the Manes of

the Dictator the lives of Brutus and Cassius (though more to his honour

had it been to have postponed his own personal hate to public good), did

he not betray the young Pompey by an insidious peace, betray Lepidus by

a deceitful show of friendship? Did he not next ensnare Marc Anthony,

first by treaties, those of Tarentum and Brundusium; then by a marriage,

that of his sister Octavia? And did not Anthony at last pay with his

life the penalty of that subdolous alliance? After this, no doubt there

was peace, but a bloody peace; bloody in the tragical defeat of Lollius,

and that of Varus, in Germany; and at Rome, the Varrones, the Egnatii,

the Julii (those illustrious names) were put to death." Nor was his

domestic life spared upon this occasion. "He had arbitrarily robbed

Nero of his wife big with child by her husband; and mocked the Gods

by consulting the Priests; whether religion permitted him to marry her

before her delivery, or obliged him to stay till after. His minions,

Tedius and Vedius Pollio, had lived in scandalous and excessive luxury:

his wife Livia, who wholly controlled him, had proved a cruel governess

to the Commonwealth; and to the Julian house, a more cruel step-mother:

he had even invaded the incommunicable honours of the Gods, and setting

up for himself temples like theirs, would like them be adored in

the image of a Deity, with all the sacred solemnity of Priests and

sacrifices: nor had he adopted Tiberius for his successor, either out

of affection for him, or from concern for the public welfare; but having

discovered in him a spirit proud and cruel, he sought future glory from

the blackest opposition and comparison." For, Augustus, when, a few

years before, he solicited the Senate to grant to Tiberius another

term of the authority of the Tribuneship, though he mentioned him with

honour, yet taking notice of his odd humour, behaviour, and manners,

dropped some expressions, which, while they seemed to excuse him,

exposed and upbraided him.

As soon as the funeral of Augustus was over, a temple and divine

worship were forthwith decreed him. The Senate then turned their instant

supplications to Tiberius, to fill his vacant place; but received

an abstruse answer, touching the greatness of the Empire and his own

distrust of himself; he said that "nothing but the divine genius of

Augustus was equal to the mighty task: that for himself, who had been

called by him into a participation of his cares, he had learnt

by feeling them, what a daring, what a difficult toil was that of

government, and how perpetually subject to the caprices of fortune: that

in a State supported by so many illustrious patriots they ought not to

cast the whole administration upon one; and more easy to be administered

were the several offices of the Government by the united pains and

sufficiency of many." A pompous and plausible speech, but in it little

faith and sincerity. Tiberius, even upon subjects which needed no

disguises, used words dark and cautious; perhaps from his diffident

nature, perhaps from a habit of dissembling: at this juncture indeed,

as he laboured wholly to hide his heart, his language was the more

carefully wrapped up in equivoques and obscurity: but the Senators, who

dreaded nothing so much as to seem to understand him, burst into tears,

plaints, and vows; with extended arms they supplicated the Gods, invoked

the image of Augustus, and embraced the knees of Tiberius. He then

commanded the imperial register to be produced and recited. It contained

a summary of the strength and income of the Empire, the number of

Romans and auxiliaries in pay, the condition of the navy, of the

several kingdoms paying tribute, and of the various provinces and

their revenues, with the state of the public expense, the issues of the

exchequer, and all the demands upon the public. This register was all

writ by the hand of Augustus; and in it he had subjoined his counsel to

posterity, that the present boundaries of the Empire should stand fixed

without further enlargement; but whether this counsel was dictated by

fear for the public, or by envy towards his successors, is uncertain.

Now when the Senate was stooping to the vilest importunity and

prostrations, Tiberius happened to say, that, "as he was unequal to

the weight of the whole government; so if they entrusted him with any

particular part, whatever it were, he would undertake it." Here Asinius

Gallus interposed: "I beg to know, Caesar," says he, "what part of

the government you desire for your share?" He was astonished with

the unexpected question, and, for a short space, mute; but recovering

himself, answered, that "it ill became his modesty to choose or reject

any particular branch of the administration, when he desired rather to

be excused from the whole." Gallus, who in his face conjectured sullen

signs of displeasure, again accosted him, and said, "by this question I

did not mean that you should do an impracticable thing, and share

that power which cannot be separated; but I meant to reason you into a

confession that the Commonwealth is but one body, and can be governed

only by one soul." He added an encomium upon Augustus, and reminded

Tiberius himself of his many victories, of the many civil employments

which he had long and nobly sustained: nor even thus could he mollify

the wrath of Tiberius, who had long hated him, for that Gallus had

married Vipsania, daughter of Marcus Agrippa, and formerly wife to

Tiberius, who thence suspected that by this match he meant to soar above

the rank of a subject, and possessed too the bold and haughty spirit of

Asinius Pollio his father.

Lucius Arruntius incurred his displeasure next, by a speech not much

unlike that of Gallus: it is true, that towards him Tiberius bore no

old rancour; but Arruntius had mighty opulence, prompt parts, noble

accomplishments, with equal popularity, and hence was marked by him with

a fell eye of suspicion. For, as Augustus, shortly before his decease,

was mentioning those among the great men, who were capable of the

supreme power, but would not accept it; or unequal to it, yet wished

for it; or such, as had both ambition and sufficiency; he had said, that

"Marcus Lepidus was qualified, but would reject it; Asinius would be

aspiring, but had inferior talents; and that Lucius Arruntius wanted no

sufficiency, and upon a proper occasion would attempt it." That he spoke

thus of Lepidus and Asinius, is agreed; but, instead of Arruntius, some

writers have transmitted the name of Cneius Piso: and every one of these

great men, except Lepidus, were afterwards cut off, under the imputation

of various crimes, all darkly framed by Tiberius. Quintus Haterius and

Mamercus Scaurus did thereafter incense his distrustful spirit;

the first by asking him, "How long, Caesar, wilt thou suffer the

Commonwealth to remain destitute of a head?" Scaurus, because he had

said "there was room to hope that the prayers of the Senate would

not prove abortive, since he had not opposed as Tribune, nor rendered

invalid, as he might, the motion of the Consuls in his behalf." With

Haterius he fell into instant rage; towards Scaurus his resentment was

more deep and implacable, and in profound silence he hid it. Wearied

at last with public importunity and clamour, and with particular

expostulations, he began to unbend a little; not that he would own his

undertaking the Empire, but only avoid the uneasiness of perpetually

rejecting endless solicitations. It is known how Haterius, when he went

next day to the palace to implore pardon, and throwing himself at the

feet of Tiberius embraced his knees, narrowly escaped being slain by the

soldiers; because Tiberius, who was walking, tumbled down, whether by

chance, or whether his legs were entangled in the arms of Haterius:

neither was he a jot mollified by the danger which threatened so great a

man, who was at length forced to supplicate Augusta for protection; nor

could even she obtain it, but after the most laboured entreaties.

Towards Livia, too, exorbitant was the flattering court of the Senate.

Some were for decreeing her the general title of Mother; others the more

particular one of Mother Of Her Country; and almost all moved, that to

the name of Tiberius should be added, The Son Of Julia: Tiberius urged

in answer, that "public honours to women ought to be warily adjudged,

and with a sparing hand; and that with the same measure of moderation he

would receive such as were presented to himself." In truth, full of envy

as he was, and anxious lest his own grandeur should sink as that of his

mother rose, he would not suffer so much as a Lictor to be decreed her,

and even forbade the raising her an altar upon her late adoption,

or paying her any such solemnities. But for Germanicus he asked the

Proconsular power; and to carry him that dignity, honourable deputies

were sent, as also to mollify his sorrow for the death of Augustus. If

for Drusus he demanded not the same honour, it was because Drusus was

present and already Consul designed. He then named twelve candidates

for the Praetorship; the same number settled by Augustus; and though the

Senate requested him to increase it, by an oath he bound himself never

to exceed.

The privilege of creating Magistrates was now first translated from

the assemblies of the people to the Senate; for though the Emperor had

before conducted all affairs of moment at his pleasure; yet till that

day some were still transacted by the Tribes, and carried by their bent

and suffrages. Neither did the regret of the people for the seizure of

these their ancient rights rise higher than some impotent grumbling. The

Senate too liked the change; as by it they were released from the charge

of buying votes, and from the shame of begging them: and so moderate was

Tiberius, that of the twelve candidates he only reserved to himself the

recommendation of four, to be accepted without opposition or caballing.

At the same time, the Tribunes of the people asked leave to celebrate at

their own expense certain plays in honour of Augustus, such as were

to be called after his name, and inserted in the calendar. But it was

decreed, that out of the Exchequer the charge should be defrayed, and

the Tribunes should in the circus wear the triumphal robe; but to be

carried in chariots was denied them. The annual celebration of these

plays was, for the future, transferred to one of the Praetors, him

in particular to whom should fall the jurisdiction of deciding suits

between citizens and strangers.

Thus stood affairs at Rome when a sedition seized the legions in

Pannonia; without any fresh grounds, save that from a change of Princes,

they meant to assume a warrant for licentiousness and tumult, and from a

civil war hoped great earnings and acquisitions: they were three legions

encamped together, all commanded by Junius Blesus, who, upon notice of

the death of Augustus and the accession of Tiberius, had granted the

soldiers a recess from their wonted duties for some days, as a time

either of public mourning or festivity. From being idle they waxed

wanton, quarrelsome, and turbulent; greedily listened to mutinous

discourses; the most profligate amongst them had most credit with them,

and at last they became passionate for a life of sloth and riot, utterly

averse to all military discipline and every fatigue of the camp. In the

camp was one Percennius; formerly a busy leader in the embroilments

of the theatre, and now a common soldier; a fellow of a petulant,

declaiming tongue, and by inflaming parties in the playhouse, well

qualified to excite and infatuate a crowd. This incendiary practised

upon the ignorant and unwary, such as were solicitous what might prove

their future usage, now Augustus was dead. He engaged them in nightly

confabulations, and by little and little incited them to violence and

disorders; and towards the evening, when the soberest and best affected

were withdrawn, he assembled the worst and most turbulent. When he

had thus ripened them for sedition, and other ready incendiaries were

combined with him, he personated the character of a lawful Commander,

and thus questioned and harangued them:

"Why did they obey, like slaves, a few Centurions and a fewer Tribunes?

When would they be bold enough to demand redress of their heavy

grievances, unless they snatched the present occasion, while the Emperor

was yet new and his authority wavering, to prevail with him by petition,

or by arms to force him? They had already by the misery of many years

paid dear for their patient sloth and stupid silence, since decrepit

with age and maimed with wounds, after a course of service for thirty or

forty years, they were still doomed to carry arms: nor even to those who

were discharged was there any end of the misery of warfare; they were

still kept tied to the colours, and under the creditable title of

Veterans endured the same hardships, and underwent the same labours.

But suppose any of them escaped so many dangers, and survived so many

calamities, where was their reward at last? Why, a long and weary march

remained yet to be taken into countries far remote and strange; where,

under the name of lands given them to cultivate, they had unhospitable

bogs to drain, and the wild wastes of mountains to manure. Severe and

ungainful of itself was the occupation of war: ten Asses [Footnote:

About 5d.] a day the poor price of their persons and lives; out of this,

they must buy clothes, and tents, and arms; out of this, bribe the cruel

Centurions for a forbearance of blows, and occasional exemption from

hard duty: but stripes from their officers, and wounds from their

enemies, hard winters and laborious summers, bloody wars and barren

peace, were miseries without end: nor remained there other cure or

relief than to refuse to enlist but upon conditions certain, and fixed

by themselves; particularly, that their pay be a denarius or sixteen

Asses a day, [Footnote: About 8-1/2d.] sixteen years be the utmost

term of serving; when discharged, to be no longer obliged to follow the

colours, but have their reward in ready money, paid them in the camp

where they earned it. Did the Praetorian Guards, they who had double

pay, they who after sixteen years' service were paid off and sent home,

bear severer difficulties, undergo superior dangers? He did not mean to

detract from the merit of their brethren the City guards; their own lot

however it was, to be placed amongst horrid and barbarous nations, nor

could they look from their tents, but they saw the foe."

The whole crowd received this harangue with shouts of applause; but

from various instigations. Some displayed upon their bodies the obvious

impressions of stripes, others their hoary heads, many their vestments

ragged and curtailed, with backs utterly bare; as did all, their various

griefs, in the bitterness of reproach. At length to such excessive fury

they grew, that they proposed to incorporate the three legions into

one; nor by aught but emulation was the project defeated: for to his own

legion every man claimed the prerogative of swallowing and denominating

the other two. They took another method, and placed the three Eagles

of the legions, with the standards of the several cohorts, altogether

without rank or priority; then forthwith digged turf and were rearing

a tribunal, one high enough to be seen at a distance. In this

hurry arrived Blesus, who, falling into sore rebukes, and by force

interrupting particulars, called with vehemence to all: "Dip your hands

rather in my blood: to murder your General will be a crime less shameful

and heinous than to revolt from your Prince; for determined I am, either

to preserve the legions in their faith and obedience, if you kill me not

for my intended good office; or my death, if I fall by your hands, shall

hasten your remorse."

For all this, turfs were accumulated, and the work was already breast

high, when, at last, overcome by his spirit and perseverance, they

forbore. Blesus was an able speaker: he told them "that sedition and

mutiny were not the methods of conveying to the Emperor the pretensions

of the soldiers; their demands too were new and singular; such as

neither the soldiers of old had ever made to the ancient Generals, nor

they themselves to the deified Augustus: besides, their claims were

ill-timed, when the Prince, just upon his accession, was already

embarrassed with the weight and variety of other cares. If, however,

they meant to try to gain in full peace those concessions, which, even

after a civil war, the conquerors never claimed; yet why trample upon

duty and obedience, why reject the laws of the army, and rules of

discipline? And if they meant to petition, why meditate violence? They

might at least appoint deputies; and in his presence trust them with

their pretensions." Here they all cried out, "that the son of Blesus,

one of their Tribunes, should execute that deputation; and demand in

their name that, after sixteen years' service they should be discharged:

they said they would give him new orders, when he had succeeded in

these." After the departure of the young officer, a moderate recess

ensued; the soldiers however exulted to have carried such a point:

the sending the son of their General, as the public advocate for their

cause, was to them full proof that they had gained by force and terror

that which by modesty and gentle means they would never have gained.

In the meantime those companies which, before the sedition began, were

sent to Nauportum [Footnote: Over-Laybach, in Carniola.] to mend roads

and bridges, and upon other duties, no sooner heard of the uproar in

the camp, but they cast off all obedience, tore away the ensigns, and

plundered the neighbouring villages; even Nauportum itself, which for

greatness resembled a municipal town, was plundered. The endeavours

of the Centurions to restrain this violence, were first returned with

mockery and contempt, then with invectives and contumelies, at last

with outrage and blows. Their vengeance was chiefly bent against the

Camp-Marshal, Aufidienus Rufus: him they dragged from his chariot, and,

loading him with baggage, drove him before the first ranks; they then

insulted him, and asked in scorn, "whether he would gladly bear such

enormous burdens, whether endure such immense marches?" Rufus had

been long a common soldier, then became a Centurion, and afterwards

Camp-Marshal; a severe restorer of primitive strictness and discipline;

an indefatigable observer of every military duty, which he exacted from

others with the more rigour, as he had himself undergone them all with

patience.

By the arrival of this tumultuous band the sedition was again awakened

to its former outrage, and the seditious, roving abroad without control,

ravaged the country on every side. Blesus, for an example of terror

to the rest, commanded those who were most laden with plunder, to be

punished with stripes and cast into prison: for the General was still

dutifully obeyed by the Centurions, and by all the soldiers of any

merit; but the criminals refused to submit, and even struggled with

the guard who were carrying them off; they clasped the knees of the

bystanders, implored help from their fellows, now calling upon every

individual, and conjuring them by their particular names; then appealed

to them in a body, and supplicated the company, the cohort, the legion

to which they belonged; warning and proclaiming that the same ignominy

and chastisement hung over them all. With the same breath they heaped

invectives without measure upon their General, and called upon heaven

and all the Gods to be their witnesses and avengers; nor left they aught

unattempted to raise effectual hatred, compassion, terror, and every

species of fury. Hence the whole body rushed to their relief, burst open

the prison, unbound and rescued the prisoners: thus they owned for their

brethren, and incorporated with themselves, infamous revolters, and

traitors convict and condemned.

Hence the violence became more raging, and hence more sedition from more

leaders. There was particularly one Vibulenus, a common soldier, who,

exalted on the shoulders of his comrades, before the tribunal of Blesus,

thus declaimed in the ears of a multitude already outrageous, and eager

to hear what he had to say. "To these innocents," says he, "to these

miserable sufferers, our fellow-soldiers, you have indeed restored

breath and liberty: but who will restore life to my poor brother; who

my poor brother to me? He was sent hither by the German armies, with

propositions for our common good; and for this, was last night butchered

by that same Blesus, who in the murder employed his gladiators, bloody

men, whom he purposely entertains and arms for our common execution.

Where, oh where, Blesus, hast thou thrown his unoffending and mangled

corpse? Even open enemies do not inhumanly deny burial to the slain:

when I have satiated my sorrow with a thousand kisses, and a flood

of tears; command me also to be murdered, that these our brethren may

together bury my poor brother and me, slaughtered both as victims, yet

both guiltless of any crime but that of studying the common interest of

the legions."

He inflamed those his complaints and expostulations with affecting sighs

and lamentations, beat his breast, tore his face, and showed all the

symptoms of anguish. Then those who carried him giving way, he threw

himself headlong at the feet of his companions; and thus prostrate and

supplicating, in them raised such a spirit of commiseration and such a

storm of vengeance, that one party of them instantly seized and bound

the General's gladiators; another, the rest of his family; while many

ran and dispersed themselves to search for the corpse: and had it not

been quickly manifest that there was no corpse to be found, that

the slaves of Blesus had upon the rack cleared themselves, and that

Vibulenus never had any brother; they had gone nigh to have sacrificed

the General. As it was, they expulsed the Camp-Marshal and Tribunes;

and as they fled, plundered their baggage: they likewise put to

death Lucilius the Centurion, whom they had sarcastically named _Cedo

Alteram_, because when upon the back of a soldier he had broken one

wand, he was wont to call for another, and then a third. The other

Centurions lurked in concealment, all but Julius Clemens, who for his

prompt capacity was saved, in order to manage the negotiations of the

soldiers: even two of the legions, the eighth and the fifteenth, were

ready to turn their swords upon each other; and had, but for the ninth:

one Sirpicus, a centurion, was the subject of the quarrel; him the

eighth required to be put to death, and the fifteenth protected him; but

the ninth interposed with entreaties to both, and with threats to those

who would not listen to prayers.

Tiberius, however, close and impenetrable, and ever labouring to smother

all melancholy tidings, was yet driven by those from Pannonia, to

despatch his son Drusus thither, accompanied by the principal nobility

and guarded by two Praetorian cohorts; but charged with no precise

instructions, only to adapt his measures to the present exigency: the

cohorts were strengthened with an extraordinary addition of chosen men,

with the greatest part of the Praetorian horse, and main body of the

German, then the Emperor's guards. Aelius Sejanus, lately joined with

his father Strabo in the command of the Praetorian bands, was also sent,

not only as Governor to the young Prince, but as his credit with the

Emperor was known to be mighty, to deal with the revolters by promises

and terrors. When Drusus approached, the legions, for show of respect,

marched out to meet him; not with the usual symptoms and shouts of

joy, nor with gay ensigns and arms glittering, but in a dress and

accoutrements hideous and squalid: in their countenances too, though

composed to sadness, were seen greater marks of sullenness and

contumacy.

As soon as he was within the camp, they secured the entrances with

guards, and in several quarters of it placed parties upon duty: the rest

crowded about the tribunal of Drusus, who stood beckoning with his hand

for silence. Here as often as they surveyed their own numbers and met

one another's resentful looks, they uttered their rage in horrible

cries: again, when upon the tribunal they beheld Caesar, awe and

trembling seized them: now, there prevailed an hollow and inarticulate

murmur; next, a furious clamour; then suddenly a dead silence: so that,

by a hasty succession of opposite passions, they were at once dismayed

and dreadful. When at last the uproar was stayed, he read his father's

letters, who in them declared, "that he would take an affectionate

care of the brave and invincible legions by whom he had sustained

successfully so many wars; and, as soon as his grief was a little

abated, deal with the Senate about their demands; in the meantime he

had sent them his son, on purpose to make them forthwith all the

concessions, which could instantly be made them: the rest were to

be reserved for the Senate, the proper distributers of rewards and

punishments by a right altogether unalienable."

The assembly answered, that to Julius Clemens they had intrusted what

to speak in their name: he began with their demands, "to be discharged

after sixteen years' service, to have the reward which, for past

services upon that discharge, they claimed; their pay to be increased

to a Roman denarius; the veterans to be no longer detained under their

ensigns." When Drusus urged, that wholly in the judgment of the Senate

and his father, these matters rested he was interrupted by their

clamours: "To what purpose came he; since he could neither augment their

pay, nor alleviate their grievances? and while upon them every officer

was allowed to inflict blows and death, the son of their Emperor wanted

power to relieve them by one beneficent action. The policy this of the

late reign, when Tiberius frustrated every request of the soldiers, by

referring all to Augustus; now Drusus was come with the same artifices

to delude them: were they never to have a higher visit than from the

children of their Prince? It was, indeed, unaccountable, that to the

Senate the Emperor should leave no part in the direction of the army,

only the rewarding of the soldiery: ought not the same Senate to be

consulted as often as a battle was to be fought, or a private man to be

punished? or, were their recompenses to be adjudged by many masters,

but their punishments to remain without any restraint or moderator

whatsoever?"

At last they abandoned the tribunal, and with menaces and insults fell

upon all they met belonging to Drusus, either as guards or friends;

meditating thus to provoke a quarrel, and an introduction to blood.

Chiefly enraged they were against Cneius Lentulus, as one for years and

warlike renown superior to any about the person of Drusus, and thence

suspected to have hardened the Prince, and been himself the foremost to

despise these outrages in the soldiery: nor was it long after, that as

he was leaving Drusus, and from the foresight of danger returning to the

winter quarters, they surrounded him and demanded "whither he went? to

the Emperor or Senate? there also to exercise his enmity to the legions,

and oppose their interest?" and instantly assaulted him with stones.

He was already covered with wounds and blood, and awaiting certain

assassination, when the troops attending Drusus flew to his assistance

and saved him.

The following night had a formidable aspect, and threatened the speedy

eruption of some tragical vengeance; when a phenomenon intervened and

assuaged all. The Moon, in the midst of a clear sky, seemed to the

soldiers suddenly to sicken; and they, who were ignorant of the natural

cause, took this for an omen foreboding the issue of their present

adventures: to their own labours, they compared the eclipse of the

planet; and prophesied, "that if to the distressed Goddess should be

restored her wonted brightness and vigour, equally successful would

be the issue of these their struggles." Hence they strove to charm and

revive her with sounds, and by ringing upon brazen metal, and an uproar

of trumpets and cornets, made a vehement bellowing. As she appeared

brighter or darker, they exulted or lamented; but when gathering clouds

had utterly bereft them of her sight, and they believed her now buried

in everlasting darkness; then, as minds once thoroughly dismayed are

pliant to superstition, they bewailed "their own eternal sufferings

thus portended, and that against their misdeeds the angry Deities

were contending." Drusus, who thought it behoved him to improve this

disposition of theirs, and to reap the fruits of wisdom from the

operations of chance; ordered certain persons to go round, and apply

to them from tent to tent. For this purpose, he called and employed

the Centurion Julius Clemens, and whoever else were by honest methods

acceptable to the multitude. These insinuated themselves everywhere,

with those who kept watch, or were upon patrol, or guarded the gates;

soothing all with hopes, and by terrors rousing them. "How long," said

they, "shall we hold the son of our Emperor thus besieged? Where will

our broils and wild contentions end? Shall we swear allegiance to

Percennius and Vibulenus? Will Vibulenus and Percennius support us with

pay during our service, and reward us with lands when dismissed? In

short, shall two common men dispossess the Neros and the Drusi, and to

themselves assume the Empire of the Roman People? Let us be wiser; and

as we were the last to revolt, be the first to relent. Such demands, as

comprise terms for all, are ever slowly accorded; but particulars may,

when they please, merit instant favour, and instantly receive it."

These reasonings alarmed them, and filled them with mutual jealousies.

Presently the fresh soldiers forsook the veterans, and one legion

separated from another; then by degrees returned the love of duty and

obedience. They relinquished the guard of the gates: and the Eagles

and other ensigns, which in the beginning of the tumult they had thrown

together, were now restored each to its distinct station.

Drusus, as soon as it was day, summoned an assembly, and though

unskilled in speaking, yet with a haughtiness inherent in his blood,

rebuked their past and commended their present behaviour. "With threats

and terrors," he said, "it was impossible to subdue him; but if he saw

them reclaimed to submission, if from them he heard the language of

supplicants, he would send to his father to accept with a reconciled

spirit the petitions of the legions," Hence, at their entreaty, for

their deputy to Tiberius the same Blesus was again despatched, and with

him Lucius Apronius, a Roman Knight of the cohort of Drusus; and Justus

Catonius, a Centurion of the first order. There followed great debates

in the council of Drusus, while some advised "to suspend all proceeding

till the return of the deputies, and by a course of courtesy the while

to soothe the soldiers; others maintained, that remedies more potent

must needs be applied: in a multitude, was to be found nothing on this

side extremes; always imperious where they are not awed, and to be

without danger despised when frightened: to their present terror from

superstition was to be added the dread of their General, by his dooming

to death the authors of the sedition." Rather prompt to rigorous

counsels was the genius of Drusus: Vibulenus and Percennius were

produced, and by his command executed; it is by many recounted, that in

his own tent they were secretly despatched and buried; by others, that

their bodies were ignominiously thrown over the entrenchments, for a

public spectacle of terror.

Search was then made for other remarkable incendiaries. Some were caught

skulking without the camp, and there by the Centurions or Praetorian

soldiers slain; others were by their several companies delivered up, as

a proof of their own sincere faith. The consternation of the soldiers

was heightened by the precipitate accession of winter, with rains

incessant and so violent, that they were unable to stir from their

tents, or maintain common intercourse, nay, scarce to preserve their

standards, assaulted continually by tempestuous winds and raging floods.

Dread besides of the angry Gods still possessed them; nor was it at

random, they thought, that such profane traitors were thus visited

with black eclipses and roaring tempests; neither against these their

calamities was there other relief than the relinquishing of a camp by

impiety contaminated and accursed, and after expiation of their guilt

returning to their several garrisons. The eighth legion departed first;

and then the fifteenth: the ninth, with earnest clamours, pressed

for continuing there till the letters from Tiberius arrived; but when

deserted by the other two, their courage failed, and by following of

their own accord, they prevented the shame of being forced. Drusus

seeing order and tranquillity restored, without staying for the return

of the deputies, returned himself to Rome.

Almost at the same time, and from the same causes, the legions in

Germany raised an insurrection, with greater numbers, and thence with

more fury. Passionate too were their hopes that Germanicus would never

brook the rule of another, but yield to the spirit of the legions, who

had force sufficient to bring the whole Empire under his sway. Upon

the Rhine were two armies; that called the higher, commanded by Caius

Silius, Lieutenant-General; the lower, by Aulus Caecina: the command in

chief rested in Germanicus, then busy collecting the tribute in Gaul.

The forces however under Silius, with cautious ambiguity, watched the

success of the revolt which others began: for the soldiers of the lower

army had broken out into open outrages, which took its rise from the

fifth legion, and the one-and-twentieth; who after them drew the first,

and twentieth. These were altogether upon the frontiers of the Ubians,

passing the campaign in utter idleness or light duty: so that upon the

news that Augustus was dead, the whole swarm of new soldiers lately

levied in the city, men accustomed to the effeminacies of Rome, and

impatient of every military hardship, began to possess the ignorant

minds of the rest with many turbulent expectations, "that now was

presented the lucky juncture for veterans to demand entire dismission;

the fresh soldiers, larger pay; and all, some mitigation of their

miseries; as also to return due vengeance for the cruelties of the

Centurions." These were not the harangues of a single incendiary, like

Percennius amongst the Pannonian legions; nor uttered, as there, in the

ears of men who, while they saw before their eyes armies greater than

their own, mutinied with awe and trembling: but here was a sedition of

many mouths, filled with many boasts, "that in their hands lay the power

and fate of Rome; by their victories the empire was enlarged, and from

them the Caesars took, as a compliment, the surname of Germanicus."

Neither did Caecina strive to restrain them. A madness so extensive had

bereft him of all his bravery and firmness. In this precipitate frenzy

they rushed at once, with swords drawn, upon the Centurions, the eternal

objects of their resentment, and always the first victims to their

vengeance. Them they dragged to the earth, and upon each bestowed

a terrible portion of sixty blows; a number proportioned to that of

Centurions in a legion. Then bruised, mangled, and half expiring, as

they were, they cast them all out of the camp, some into the stream

of the Rhine. Septimius, who had for refuge fled to the tribunal of

Caecina, and lay clasping his feet, was demanded with such imperious

vehemence, that he was forced to be surrendered to destruction. Cassius

Cherea (afterwards famous to posterity for killing Caligula), then a

young man of undaunted spirit, and one of the Centurions, boldly opened

himself a passage with his sword through a crowd of armed foes striving

to seize him. After this no further authority remained to the Tribunes,

none to the Camp-Marshals. The seditious soldiers were their own

officers; set the watch, appointed the guard, and gave all orders proper

in the present exigency; hence those who dived deepest into the spirit

of the soldiery, gathered a special indication how powerful and obdurate

the present insurrection was like to prove; for in their conduct were no

marks of a rabble, where every man's will guides him, or the instigation

of a few controls the whole. Here, all at once they raged, and all at

once kept silence; with so much concert and steadiness, that you would

have believed them under the sovereign direction of one.

To Germanicus the while, then receiving, as I have said, the tribute in

Gaul, news were brought of the decease of Augustus; whose grand-daughter

Agrippina he had to wife, and by her many children: he was himself the

grandson of Livia, by her son Drusus, the brother of Tiberius; but ever

under heavy anxiety from the secret hate which his uncle and grandmother

bore him: hate the more virulent as its grounds were altogether

unrighteous; for, dear and adored was the memory of his father Drusus

amongst the Roman People, and from him was firmly expected that had he

succeeded to the Empire, he would have restored public liberty: hence

their zeal for Germanicus, and of him the same hopes conceived; as

from his youth he possessed a popular spirit, and marvellous affability

utterly remote from the comportment and address of Tiberius, ever

haughty and mysterious. The animosities too between the ladies

administered fresh fuel; while towards Agrippina, Livia was actuated

by the despite natural to step-mothers: and over-tempestuous was the

indignation of Agrippina; only that her known chastity and love for her

husband, always gave her mind, however vehement, a virtuous turn.

But Germanicus, the nearer he stood to supreme rule, the more vigour he

exerted to secure it to Tiberius: to him he obliged the Sequanians, a

neighbouring people, as also the several Belgic cities, to swear present

allegiance; and the moment he learnt the uproar of the legions, posted

thither: he found them advanced without the camp to receive him, with

eyes cast down, in feigned token of remorse. After he entered the

entrenchments, instantly his ears were filled with plaints and

grievances, uttered in hideous and mixed clamours: nay, some catching

his hand, as if they meant to kiss it, thrust his fingers into their

mouths, to feel their gums destitute of teeth; others showed their limbs

enfeebled, and bodies stooping under old age. As he saw the assembly

mixed at random, he commanded them "to range themselves into companies,

thence more distinctly to hear his answers; as also to place before

them their several ensigns, that the cohorts at least might be

distinguished."

With slowness and reluctance it was, that they obeyed him; then

beginning with an encomium upon the "venerable memory of Augustus," he

proceeded to the "many victories and many triumphs of Tiberius," and

with peculiar praises celebrated the "glorious and immortal deeds, which

with these very legions in Germany he had accomplished;" he next boasted

the quiet state of things, the consent of all Italy, the loyal faith

of both the Gauls: and every quarter of the Roman State exempt from

disaffection and turbulence.

Thus far they listened with silence, at least with moderate murmuring;

but the moment he touched their sedition and questioned, "where now was

the wonted modesty of soldiers? where the glory of ancient discipline?

whither had they chased their Tribunes, whither their Centurions?" to a

man, they stripped themselves to the skin, and there exposed the seams

of their wounds and bruises of their chastisements, in the rage of

reproach. Then in the undistinguished voice of uproar, they urged

"the exactions for occasional exemptions, their scanty pay, and their

rigorous labours;" which they represented in a long detail: "ramparts to

be reared, entrenchments digged, trees felled and drawn, forage cut and

carried, fuel prepared and fetched," with every other article of

toil required by the exigencies of war, or to prevent idleness in the

soldiery. Above all, from the veterans arose a cry most horrible:

they enumerated thirty years or upwards undergone in the service; "and

besought that to men utterly spent he would administer respite, nor

suffer them to be beholden to death for the last relief from their

toils; but discharge them from a warfare so lasting and severe, and

grant them the means of a comfortable recess." Nay, some there were

who of him required the money bequeathed them by Augustus; and towards

Germanicus uttering zealous vows, with omens of happy fortune, declared

their cordial attachment to his cause if he would himself assume the

Empire. Here, as if already stained with their treason, he leaped

headlong from the Tribunal; but with swords drawn they opposed his

departure, and threatened his life, if he refused to return: yet, with

passionate protestations that "he would rather die than be a traitor,"

he snatched his sword from his side, and aiming full at his breast,

would have buried it there, had not those who were next him seized his

hand and by force restrained him. A cluster of soldiers in the extremity

of the assembly exhorted him, nay, what is incredible to hear, some

particulars advancing nearer, exhorted him _to strike home_: in truth

one Calusidius, a common soldier, presented him his naked sword, and

added, "it is sharper than your own;" a behaviour which to the rest,

outrageous as they were, seemed savage, and of horrid example: hence the

friends of Germanicus had time to snatch him away to his tent.

It was here consulted what remedy to apply: for it was advised, that

"ministers of sedition were preparing to be despatched to the other

army, to draw them too into a confederacy in the revolt; that the

capital of the Ubians was destined to be sacked; and if their hands were

once inured to plunder, they would break in, and ravage all Gaul." This

dread was augmented by another: the enemy knew of the sedition in the

Roman army, and were ready to invade the Empire, if its barrier the

Rhine were left unguarded. Now, to arm the allies and the auxiliaries of

Rome, and lead them against the departing legions, was to rouse a civil

war: severity was dangerous: the way of largesses infamous; and alike

threatening it was to the State to grant the turbulent soldiers nothing,

or yield them everything. After revolving every reason and objection,

the result was, to feign letters and directions from Tiberius, "that

those who had served twenty years should be finally discharged; such as

served sixteen be under the ensign and privileges of veterans, released

from every duty but that of repulsing the enemy; and the legacy, which

they demanded, should be paid and doubled."