victorious, at once annihilated every shadow of liberty in the
commonwealth. Those veteran legions, who had conquered the world,
fought no more for the dearest rights of their country. Having been
once its protectors, they now became its ravagers. As the _amor patria_
no longer inspired them, the treasury of the Roman empire proved
inadequate to allay their boundless thirst for wealth. Augustus,
therefore, to silence their clamors, distributed among them the
flourishing colony of Cremona, and, to make up the deficiency, added
part of the state of Mantua. In vain did the miserable mothers, with
famishing infants at their breasts, fill the forum with their numbers,
and the air with their lamentations; in vain did the inhabitants
complain of being driven, like vanquished enemies, from their native
homes. Such scenes are familiar to the conquerors in a civil war; and
those legions, which had sacrificed their own and their country’s
liberty, must be recompensed at the expense of justice and the
happiness of thousands. Virgil, involved in the common calamity, had
recourse to his old patrons, Pollio and Mecænas;[9] and, supported
by them, petitioned Augustus not only for the possession of his own
property, but for the reinstatement of his countrymen in theirs also;
which, after some hesitation, was denied, accompanied by a grant for
the restitution of his individual estate.
Full of gratitude for such favor, Virgil composed his Tityrus, in
which he has introduced one shepherd complaining of the destruction of
his farm, the anarchy and confusion of the times; and another rejoicing
that he can again tune his reed to love amidst his flocks; promising to
honor, as a superior being, the restorer of his happiness.
Unfortunately for Virgil, his joy was not of long continuance, for, on
arriving at Mantua, and producing his warrant to Arrius, a captain of
foot, whom he found in possession of his house, the old soldier was so
enraged at what he termed the presumption of a poet, that he wounded
him dangerously with his sword, and would have killed him had he not
escaped by swimming hastily over the Mincius. Virgil was, therefore,
compelled to return half the length of Italy, with a body reduced by
sickness, and a mind depressed by disappointment, again to petition
Augustus for the restoration of his estate. During this journey, which,
from the nature of his wound, was extremely slow, he is supposed to
have written his Moeris, or ninth eclogue; and this conjecture is
rendered more probable by the want of connexion, perceivable through
the whole composition—displaying, evidently, the disorder at that time
predominant in the poet’s mind. However, on his arrival at Rome, he had
the satisfaction to find that effectual orders had been given in his
behalf, and the farm was resigned into the hands of his procurator or
bailiff, to whom the above pastoral is addressed.
The Sibylline Oracles, having received information from the Jews that
a child was to be born, who should be the Saviour of the world, and
to whom nations and empires should bow with submission, pretended to
foretell that this event would occur in the year of Rome, 714, after
the peace concluded between Augustus and Antony. Virgil, viewing this
prophecy with the vivid imagination of a poet, and willing to flatter
the ambition of his patron, composed his celebrated eclogue, entitled
Pollio, in which he supposes the child, who was thus to unite mankind
and restore the golden age, to be the offspring of Octavia, wife of
Antony, and half sister to Augustus. In this production, the consul
Pollio, Octavia, and even the unborn infant, are flattered with his
usual delicacy; and the rival triumviri, though a short time before in
open hostility, have the honor of equally sharing the poet’s applause.
While Pollio, who seems to have been the most accomplished man of his
age, and is celebrated as a poet, soldier, orator and historian, was
engaged in an expedition against the Parthini, whom he subdued, Virgil
addressed to him his Pharmaceutria, one of the most beautiful of all
his eclogues, and in imitation of a poem of the same name, by his
favorite author, Theocritus. This production is the more valuable, as
it has handed down to posterity some of the superstitious rites of the
Romans and the heathen notions of enchantment. Virgil himself seems to
have been conscious of the beauty of his subject, and the dignity of
the person whom he was addressing; and, accordingly, has given us, by
the fertility of his genius and the brilliancy of his imagination, some
of the most sublime images that are to be found in any of the writings
of antiquity.
By the advice, and indeed at the earnest entreaty of Augustus, Virgil,
in his thirty-fourth year, retired to Naples, and formed the plan of
his Georgics: a design as new in Latin verse, as pastorals, before
his, were in Italy. These he undertook for the interest, and to
promote the welfare, of his country. As the continual civil wars had
entirely depopulated and laid waste the land usually appropriated for
cultivation, the peasants had turned soldiers, and their farms became
scenes of desolation. Famine and insurrection were the inevitable
consequences that followed such overwhelming calamities. Augustus,
therefore, resolved to revive the decayed spirit of husbandry, and
began by employing Virgil to recommend it with all the insinuating
charms of poetry. This work took up seven of the most vigorous years of
his life, and fully answered the expectations of his patron.
Augustus, having conquered his rival, Antony, gave the last wound to
expiring liberty, by usurping the exclusive government of the Roman
empire. To reconcile a nation, naturally jealous of its freedom, to
this, seems to have been the grand object of Virgil, in his Æneid. This
poem was begun in the forty-fifth year of the author’s life, and not
only displays admirable poetical genius, but great political address.
Not an incident that could in any way tend to flatter the Roman
people into a submission to the existing government, has escaped his
penetrating judgment. He traces their origin to the Trojans, and makes
Augustus a lineal descendant of Æneas. At the command of the gods they
obey him, and in return are promised the empire of the world.
So anxious was Augustus as to the result of this poem, that he insisted
upon having part of it read before the whole was completed. Gratitude,
after threats and entreaties had been used in vain, at length induced
its author to comply; and, knowing that Octavia, who had just lost her
son, Marcellus, would be present, Virgil fixed upon the sixth book,
perhaps the finest part of the whole Æneid. His illustrious auditors
listened with all the attention which such interesting narrative and
eloquent recital demanded, till he came to that beautiful lamentation
for the death of young Marcellus, and where, after exhausting
panegyric, he has artfully suppressed the name of its object, till the
concluding verse:
“Tu Marcellus eris.”
At these words, Octavia, overcome with surprise and sorrow, fainted
away; but, on recovering, was so highly gratified at having her son
thus immortalized, that she presented the poet with ten _sesterces_ for
each line; amounting, in the whole, to about ten thousand dollars.
Having at length brought his Æneid to a conclusion, Virgil proposed
travelling into Greece, and devoting three years to the correction and
improvement of his favorite work. Having arrived at Athens, he met with
Augustus, who was returning from a victorious expedition to the East,
and who requested the company of the poet back to Italy. The latter
deemed it his duty to comply; but, being desirous to see as many of
the Grecian antiquities as the time would allow, went for that purpose
to Megara. Here he was seized with a dangerous illness, which, from
neglect, and the agitation of the vessel in returning to Italy, proved
mortal, at Brundusium. Thus the great poet died on the twenty-second
of September, nineteen years B. C, and at a period when he had
nearly completed his fifty-second year. He expired with the greatest
tranquillity; and his remains, being carried to Naples, were interred
in a monument, erected at a small distance from the city; where it is
still shown, with the following inscription, said to have been dictated
by him on his death-bed:
Mantua me genuit; Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc
Parthenope; cecini pascua, rura, duces.
In his will he had ordered that the Æneid should be burnt, not having
finished it to his mind; but Augustus wisely forbade the destruction of
a performance which will perpetuate his name, as one of the greatest
of poets. It was, therefore, delivered to Varius and Tucca, Virgil’s
intimate friends, with the strictest charge to make no additions, but
merely to publish it correctly, in the state it then was.
In person, Virgil was tall, and wide-shouldered, of a dark swarthy
complexion, which probably proceeded from the southern extraction
of his father; his constitution was delicate, and the most trifling
fatigue, either from exercise or study, produced violent headache and
spitting of blood. In temper he was melancholy and thoughtful, loving
retirement and contemplation. Though one of the greatest geniuses
of his age, and the admiration of the Romans, he always preserved
a singular modesty, and lived chastely when the manners of the
people were extremely corrupt. His character was so benevolent and
inoffensive, that most of his cotemporary poets, though they envied
each other, agreed in loving and esteeming him. He was bashful to a
degree of timidity; his aspect and behavior was rustic and ungraceful;
yet he was so honored by his countrymen, that once, coming into the
theatre, the whole audience rose out of respect to him. His fortune was
large, supposed to be about seventy thousand pounds sterling, besides
which he possessed a noble mansion, and well-furnished library on the
Esquiline Mount, at Rome, and an elegant villa in Sicily. Both these
last, he left to Mecænas, at his death, together with a considerable
proportion of his personal property; the remainder he divided between
his relations and Augustus,—the latter having introduced a politic
fashion of being in everybody’s will, which alone produced a sufficient
revenue for a prince.
The works of Virgil are not only valuable for their poetic beauties,
but for their historical allusions and illustrations. We here find a
more perfect and satisfactory account of the religious customs and
ceremonies of the Romans, than in any other of the Latin poets, Ovid
excepted. Everything he mentions is founded upon historical truth.
He was uncommonly severe in revising his poetry—and often compared
himself to a bear that licks her cubs into shape.
In his intercourse with society, Virgil was remarkable; his friends
enjoyed his unbounded confidence, and his library and possessions in
Rome were so liberally offered for the use of those who needed them,
as to seem to belong to the public. Amiable and exemplary, however, as
he was, he had bitter enemies; but their revilings only served to add
lustre to his name and fame.
[Illustration]
[Footnote 9: Mecænas, a celebrated Roman, who distinguished himself
by his liberal patronage of learned men and letters. His fondness for
pleasure removed him from the reach of ambition, and he preferred
to live and die a knight, to all the honors and dignities that the
Emperor Augustus could heap upon him. The emperor received the private
admonitions of Mecænas in the same friendly way in which they were
given. Virgil and Horace both enjoyed his friendship. He was fond of
literature, and from the patronage which the heroic and lyric poets of
the age received from him, patrons of literature have ever since been
called by his name. Virgil dedicated to him his Georgics and Horace his
Odes. He died eight years B. C.]
[Illustration]
CICERO.
Marcus Tullius Cicero was born on the 3d of January, 107, B. C. His
mother, whose name was Helvia, was of an honorable and wealthy family;
his father, named Marcus, was a wise and learned man of fortune, who
lived at Apulia. This city was anciently of the Samnites, now part of
the kingdom of Naples. Here Cicero was born, at his father’s country
seat, which it seems was a most charming residence.
The care which the ancient Romans bestowed upon the education of their
children was worthy of all praise. Their attention to this, began from
the moment of their birth. They were, in the first place, committed to
the care of some prudent matron, of good character and condition, whose
business it was to form their first habits of acting and speaking; to
watch their growing passions, and direct them to their proper objects;
to superintend their sports, and suffer nothing immodest or indecent
to enter into them, that the mind, preserved in all its innocence,
and undepraved by the taste of false pleasures, might be at liberty
to pursue whatever was laudable, and apply its whole strength to that
profession in which it should desire to excel.
Though it was a common opinion among the Romans that children should
not be instructed in letters till they were seven years old, yet
careful attention was paid to their training, even from the age of
three years. It was reckoned a matter of great importance what kind of
language they were first accustomed to hear at home, and in what manner
their nurses, and even their fathers and mothers spoke, since their
first habits were then formed, either of a pure or corrupt elocution.
The two Gracchi were thought to owe that elegance of speaking for which
they were distinguished, to their mother, Cornelia, who was a very
accomplished woman and remarkable for the purity of her diction, as
well in speaking as writing.
Young Cicero experienced the full advantage of these enlightened views,
in his childhood. When he was of sufficient age to enter upon a regular
course of study, his father removed to Rome, and placed him in a public
school, under an eminent Greek master. Here he gave indications of
those shining abilities, which rendered him afterwards so illustrious.
His school-fellows carried home such stories of his extraordinary
powers, that their parents were often induced to visit the school, for
the sake of seeing a youth of such endowments.
Encouraged by the promising genius of his son Cicero’s father spared no
cost or pains to improve it by the help of the ablest professors. Among
other eminent instructors, he enjoyed the teaching of the poet Archias.
Under this master, he applied himself chiefly to poetry, to which he
was naturally addicted and made such proficiency in it, that, while
he was still a boy, he composed and published a poem, called Glaucus
Pontius.
After finishing the course of juvenile studies, it was the custom to
change the dress of the boy for that of the man, and take what they
called the _manly gown_, or the ordinary robe of the citizen. This was
an occasion of rejoicing, for the youth thus passed from the power of
his tutor into a state of greater liberty. He was at the same time
introduced into the forum, or great square of the city, where the
assemblies of the people were held. Here also, they were addressed
by the magistrates, and here all the public pleadings and judicial
transactions took place.
When Cicero was sixteen years old, he was introduced to this place,
with all customary solemnity. He was attended by the friends and
dependants of the family, and after divine rites were performed in
the capital, he was committed to the special protection of Q. Mucius
Scævola, the principal lawyer as well as statesman of that age.
Young Cicero made good use of the advantages he enjoyed. He spent
almost his whole time in the society of his patron, carefully
treasuring up in his memory the wisdom that fell from his lips. After
his death, he came under the instruction of another of the same
family—Scævola, the high priest, a person remarkable for his probity
and skill in the law.
The legal profession, as well as that of arms and eloquence, was a sure
recommendation to the first honors of the republic; for it appears to
have been the practice of many of the most eminent lawyers to give
their advice gratis to all that asked it. It was the custom of the old
senators, eminent for their wisdom and experience, to walk up and down
the forum in the morning, freely offering their assistance to all who
had occasion to consult them, not only in cases of law, but in relation
to their private affairs. At a later period, they used to sit at home,
with their doors open, upon a kind of throne, or raised seat, giving
access and audience to all who might come.
It is not surprising that a profession thus practised should be honored
among the Roman people, nor is it wonderful that Cicero’s ambitious
mind should have been attracted by so obvious a road to honor and
preferment. But his views were not satisfied with being a mere lawyer.
He desired especially to be an orator; and, conceiving that all kinds
of knowledge would be useful in such a profession, he sought every
opportunity to increase his stores of information. He also attended
constantly at the forum, to hear the speeches and pleadings; he
perused the best authors with care, so as to form an elegant style;
and cultivated poetry, for the purpose of adding elegance and grace to
his mind. While he was thus engaged, he also studied philosophy, and,
for a time, was greatly pleased with Phædrus, the Epicurean, who then
gave lessons at Rome. Though he retained his affection for the amiable
philosopher, Cicero soon rejected his system as fallacious.
It was always a part of the education of the young gentlemen of Rome,
to learn the art of war by personal service, under some general of
name and experience. Cicero accordingly took the opportunity to make
a campaign with Strabo, the father of Pompey the Great. During this
expedition, he manifested the same diligence in the army that he had
done in the forum, to observe everything that passed. He sought to be
always near the person of the general, that nothing of importance might
escape his notice.
Returning to Rome, Cicero pursued his studies as before, and about
this time, Molo, the Rhodian, one of the most celebrated teachers of
eloquence of that age, coming to the city to deliver lectures upon
oratory, he immediately took the benefit of his instructions, and
pursued his studies with ceaseless ardor. His ambition received an
impulse at this time, from witnessing the fame of Hortensius, who made
the first figure at the bar, and whose praises fired him with such
emulation, that, for a time, he scarcely allowed himself rest from his
studies, either day or night.
He had in his own house a Greek preceptor, who instructed him in
various kinds of learning, but more particularly in logic, to which
he paid strict attention. He, however, never suffered a day to pass,
without some exercise in oratory, particularly that of declaiming,
which he generally performed with some of his fellow-students. He
sometimes spoke in Latin, but more frequently in Greek, because the
latter furnished a greater variety of elegant expressions, and because
the Greek masters were far the best, and could not correct and improve
their pupils, unless they declaimed in that language.
Cicero had now passed through that course of discipline, which, in his
treatise upon the subject, he lays down as necessary for the formation
of an accomplished orator. He declares that no man should pretend to
this, without being acquainted with everything worth being known, in
art and nature; that this is implied in the very name of an orator,
whose profession is to speak upon every subject proposed to him, and
whose eloquence, without knowledge, would be little better than the
prattle and impertinence of children.
He had learnt grammar and the languages from the ablest teachers,
passed through the studies of humanity and the polite letters with
the poet Archias been instructed in philosophy by the principal
philosophers of each sect—Phædrus the epicurean, Philo the academic,
Diodorus the Stoic—and acquired a thorough knowledge of the law from
the greatest jurists and statesmen of Rome—the two Scævolas.
These accomplishments he regarded but as subservient to the object
on which his ambition was placed,—the reputation of an orator. To
qualify himself, therefore, particularly for this, he had attended
the pleadings of the greatest speakers of his time, heard the daily
lectures of the most eminent orators of Greece, constantly written
compositions at home, and declaimed them under the correction of these
masters.
That he might lose nothing which would in any degree improve and polish
his style, he spent the intervals of his leisure in the company of
ladies, especially those who were remarkable for elegant conversation,
and whose fathers had been distinguished for their eloquence. While he
studied the law, therefore, under Scævola, the augur, he frequently
conversed with his wife, Lælia, whose discourse he says was tinctured
with all the eloquence of her father, Lælius, the most polished orator
of his time. He also frequented the society of her daughter, Mucia, as
well as that of two of her granddaughters, who all excelled in elegance
of diction, and the most exact and delicate use of language.
It is impossible not to admire the noble views which Cicero had formed
of the profession to which he was to devote his life. Nor can we
withhold praise for the diligence, energy and judgment with which he
trained himself for entering upon the theatre of his ambition. If in
all respects he is not to be regarded as a model for imitation, still,
his example is thus far worthy of emulation to all those who seek to
enjoy a virtuous and lasting fame.
Thus adorned and accomplished, Cicero, at the age of twenty-six years,
presented himself at the bar, and was soon employed in several private
causes. His first case of importance was the defence of S. Roscius, of
Ameria, which he undertook in his twenty-seventh year; the same age at
which Demosthenes distinguished himself at Athens.
The case of Roscius was this. His father was killed in the recent
proscription of Sylla, and his estate, worth about £60,000 sterling,
was sold, among the confiscated estates of the proscribed, for a
trifling sum, to L. Cornelius Chrysogonus, a young favorite slave, whom
Sylla had made free, and who, to secure possession of it, accused the
son of the murder of his father, and had prepared evidence to convict
him; so that the young man was likely to be deprived, not only of his
fortunes, but, by a more villanous cruelty, of his honor also, and his
life.
The tyrant Sylla was at this time at the height of his power. Fearing
his resentment, therefore, as well as the influence of the prosecutor,
the older advocates of Rome refused to undertake the defence of
Roscius, particularly as it would lead them into an exposure of the
corruptions of the age, and the misdemeanors of those high in rank and
office.
But Cicero readily undertook it, as a glorious opportunity of enlisting
in the service of his country, and giving a public testimony of his
principles, and his zeal for that liberty to the support of which he
was willing to devote the labors of his life. In the management of the
cause, he displayed great skill and admirable eloquence. Roscius was
acquitted, and Cicero was applauded by the whole city for his courage
and address. From this period he was ranked as one of the ablest
advocates of Rome.