Lucan is partial to the supernatural; dreams, witches, and ghosts,

enter freely into his machinery. In the sixth book of the Pharsalia, he

makes Pompey’s son consult the witch Erichtho on the eve of the battle.

His picture of the weird woman is quoted here as one of the most

imaginative passages in the whole range of classical poetry. Erichtho

is the type of a class of impostors firmly believed in by the Romans of

that day; the powers with which the poet endows her are simply those

attributed to her by popular superstition.

THE WITCH ERICHTHO.

“Whene’er the proud enchantress gives command,

Eternal Motion stops her active hand;

No more heaven’s rapid cirles journey on,

But universal Nature stands foredone;

The lazy god of day forgets to rise,

And everlasting night pollutes the skies.

Jove wonders to behold her shake the pole,

And, unconsenting, hears his thunders roll.

Now, with a word she hides the sun’s bright face,

And blots the wide ethereal azure space:

Loosely, anon, she shakes her flowing hair,

And straight the stormy lowering heavens are fair:

At once she calls the golden light again;

The clouds fly swift away, and stops the drizzly rain.

In stillest calms, she bids the waves run high;

And smooths the deep, tho’ Boreas shakes the sky:

When winds are hushed, her potent breath prevails,

Wafts on the bark, and fills the flagging sails.

Streams have run back at murmurs of her tongue,

And torrents from the rock suspended hung:

No more the Nile his wonted seasons knows,

And in a line the straight Mæander flows.

The ponderous earth, by magic numbers struck,

Down to her inmost centre deep has shook;

Then, rending with a yawn, at once made way,

To join the upper and the nether day:

While wondering eyes, the dreadful cleft between,

Another starry firmament have seen.

Each deadly kind, by nature formed to kill,

Fears the dire hags, and executes their will:

Lions to them their nobler rage submit,

And fawning tigers crouch beneath their feet:

For them the snake foregoes her wintry hold,

And on the hoary frost untwines her fold;

The poisonous race they strike with stronger death,

And blasted vipers die by human breath.

But these, as arts too gentle and too good,

Nor yet with death or guilt enough imbrued,

With haughty scorn the fierce Erichtho viewed.

New mischief she, new monsters, durst explore;

And dealt in horrors never known before.

From towns and hospitable roofs she flies,

And every dwelling of mankind defies;

Through unfrequented deserts lonely roams,

Drives out the dead, and dwells within their tombs.

Grateful to hell the living hag descends,

And sits in black assemblies of the fiends.

Dark matted elf-locks dangling on her brow,

Filthy and foul, a loathsome burden grow:

Ghastly, and frightful pale, her face is seen;

Unknown to cheerful day and skies serene;

But, when the stars are veiled, when storms arise,

And the blue forky flame at midnight flies,

Then, forth from graves she takes her wicked way,

And thwarts the glancing lightnings as they play:

Where’er she breathes blue poisons round her spread,

The withering grass avows her fatal tread.

Oft in the grave the living has she laid,

And bid reviving bodies leave the dead:

Oft at the funeral pile she seeks her prey,

And bears the smoking ashes warm away;

Snatches some burning bone, or flaming brand,

And tears the torch from the sad father’s hand.

Her teeth from gibbets gnaw the strangling noose,

And from the cross dead murderers unloose:

Her charms the use of sun-dried marrow find,

And husky entrails withered in the wind.

Where’er the battle bleeds, and slaughter lies,

Thither, preventing birds and beasts, she hies;

Nor then content to seize the ready prey,

From their fell jaws she tears their food away;

She marks the hungry wolf’s pernicious tooth,

And joys to rend the morsel from his mouth:

Nor ever yet remorse could stop her hand,

When human gore her cursed rites demand.

When blooming youths in early manhood die,

She stands a terrible attendant by;

The downy growth from off their cheeks she tears,

Or cuts left-handed some selected hairs.

Oft, when in death her gasping kindred lay,

Some pious office would she feign to pay;

And, while close hovering o’er the bed she hung,

Bit the pale lips, and cropped the quivering tongue;

Then, in hoarse murmurs, ere the ghost could go,

Muttered some message to the shades below.”

ROWE.

The Flavian Era is memorable for a few writers of note. Pliny the

Elder, called also the Naturalist, was an intimate friend of the

emperor Vespasian; while the names of Martial, Statius, and Quintilian,

are associated with the reign of Domitian, Vespasian’s son (81-96 A.D.).

=Pliny the Elder= (23-79 A.D.) was born at Como in Cisalpine Gaul,

and there passed his boyhood. We find him afterward at Rome attending

rhetorical lectures, and still later in his career serving as a soldier

in Germany. Nero made him proconsul of Spain, and at the expiration of

his term he returned to Rome to find his old friend Vespasian invested

with the purple.

Pliny had already become distinguished as the author of a treatise on

“the Use of the Javelin,” a “History of the German Wars,” and eight

books on “Difficulties in the Latin Language.” He now devoted himself

to the compilation of his “Natural History,” the only work we have

left from his pen, which Cuvier pronounced “one of the most precious

monuments that have come down to us from ancient times.”

We might well wonder how, in the face of his onerous public duties,

Pliny found time for literary pursuits so engrossing, did not his

nephew, Pliny the Younger, describe to us his wonderful industry.

His day’s work began at 1 or 2 A.M., even in winter; sometimes at

midnight. Before sunrise he repaired to the palace to chat informally

with Vespasian, who like him was accustomed to rob the night of a few

hours; after which he applied himself to business and study, devoting

every spare moment to the accumulation of knowledge. “No book so bad

but that something good may be gleaned from it,” was his motto. To be

without a volume and a portable writing-desk was a crime in Pliny’s

eyes. A slave constantly attended him, to take down his words in

short-hand; during his meals he employed a reader, and even in his bath

he dictated or listened. “I remember his chiding me,” said his nephew,

“for taking a walk, saying‘You might have saved three hours.’ Compared

with him, I am an idle vagabond.”

Pliny the Elder was a martyr to science. In August, 79 A.D., while in

command of the Mediterranean squadron, to which he had been appointed

by Vespasian, word was brought him that Vesuvius was in a state of

eruption. Desiring to investigate the phenomenon, he steered straight

for the blazing mountain, pushed on through the rain of hot ashes and

pumice-stones, and when advised by the pilot to turn back fearlessly

replied, “Fortune favors the brave!” He effected a landing, but only to

be suffocated by the sulphurous vapors that proved fatal to so many of

the inhabitants of Herculaneum and Pompeii.

Pliny was the master-compiler of antiquity; and he was only a compiler,

as he himself acknowledged. His Natural History, in thirty-seven books,

is a storehouse of quaint lore, according to its author a condensation

of two thousand volumes, relating to astronomy, geography, zoölogy,

botany, mineralogy, diseases and their remedies, etc. A penchant

for the marvellous, which shows him to have been a man of infinite

credulity, was a weakness of Pliny; yet his stories were implicitly

trusted in the Dark Ages, and many of them reappeared in the tales of

the Arabian Nights. A few of his curious statements are subjoined:—

ECCENTRICITIES OF NATURE.

“Some individuals are born with certain parts of the body endowed

with properties of a marvellous nature. Such was the case with King

Pyrrhus, the great toe of whose right foot cured diseases of the

spleen merely by touching the patient. We are also informed that this

toe could not be reduced to ashes together with the other portions of

the body.

India and Ethiopia abound in wonders. According to Megasthenes, on

a mountain called Nulo there dwells a race of men who have their

feet turned backward, with eight toes on each foot. On many of the

mountains, again, there is a tribe of men who have the heads of dogs;

instead of speaking they bark, and, furnished with claws, they live

by hunting and catching birds. According to Ctesias, the number of

this people is more than 120,000. This author speaks also of another

race of men called Single-legs, who have only one limb, but are able

to leap with surprising agility. The same people are also called

Foot-shadowers, because they are in the habit of lying on their backs,

and protecting themselves from the sun by the shade of their feet.

At the very extremity of India, near the source of the river Ganges,

there is the nation of Mouthless people; their bodies are rough and

overgrown with hair, and they cover themselves with a down plucked

from the leaves of trees. These people subsist only by breathing and

by the odors which they inhale through the nostrils. They support

themselves upon neither meat nor drink; when they go upon a long

journey, they carry with them only odoriferous roots and flowers, and

wild apples, that they may not be without something to smell at. But

an odor which is a little more powerful than usual easily destroys

them.”

HYDROPHOBIA.

“Canine madness is fatal to man during the heat of the Dog-star, and

proves so in consequence of those who are bitten having a deadly

horror of water. For this reason, during the thirty days that the star

exerts its influence, we try to prevent the disease in dogs; or, if

they are attacked by it, give them hellebore.

We have a single remedy against the bite, which has been but lately

discovered—the root of the wild rose, which is called dog-rose.

Columella informs us that if, on the fortieth day after the birth of

a pup, the last bone of the tail is bitten off, the sinew will follow

with it; after which the tail will not grow, and the dog will never

become rabid.”

REMEDIES FOR TOOTHACHE, ETC.

“Toothache is alleviated by scarifying the gums with bones of the

sea-dragon, or by rubbing the teeth once a year with the brains of a

dog-fish boiled in oil. It is a very good plan, too, for the cure of

toothache, to lance the gums with the sting of the ray. This sting

is pounded and applied to the teeth with white hellebore, having

the effect of extracting them without the slightest difficulty. A

decoction is made of a single frog boiled in two-thirds of a pint of

vinegar, and the teeth are rinsed with it. It is generally thought

that this recipe applies more particularly to the double teeth, and

that the vinegar prepared as above mentioned is remarkably useful for

strengthening them when loose. Ashes, also, of burnt crabs make an

excellent dentifrice.

There is a small frog which ascends trees, and croaks aloud there; if

a person suffering from cough spits into its mouth and then lets it

go, he will experience a cure. For cough attended with spitting of

blood, it is recommended to beat up the raw flesh of a snail, and to

drink it in hot water.”—RILEY.

=Martial= (43-117 A.D.).—The chief poet of Domitian’s reign was

Martial, master of the Latin epigram. Born in Spain, Martial came

to Rome in Nero’s time and began the study of law. But finding it

uncongenial, he adopted literature as a profession, and rose to

distinction under Titus and Domitian, his sordid flattery of the latter

securing him wealth and honors.

The epigrams of Martial are pithy, pointed with satire, and not without

elegance; but the pleasure of reading them is constantly interrupted by

coarse allusions and even downright obscenity. Hence it has been justly

said that Martial taught vice while reproving it. His poems, however,

contain valuable pictures of Roman manners.

THE BEAU.

“They tell me, Cotilus, that you’re a beau:

What this is, Cotilus, I wish to know.

‘A beau is one who, with the nicest care,

In parted locks divides his curling hair;

One who with balm and cinnamon smells sweet,

Whose humming lips some Spanish air repeat;

Whose naked arms are smoothed with pumice-stone,

And tossed about with graces all his own.

A beau is one who takes his constant seat,

From morn to evening, where the ladies meet;

And ever, on some sofa hovering near,

Whispers soft nothings in some fair one’s ear;

Who scribbles thousand billets-doux a day;

Still reads and scribbles, reads and sends away.

A beau is one who shrinks, if nearly pressed

By the coarse garment of a neighbor guest;

Who knows who flirts with whom, and still is found

At each good table in successive round.

A beau is one—none better knows than he

A race-horse and his noble pedigree.’—

Indeed? Why, Cotilus, if this be so,

What teasing trifling thing is called a beau!”

“With but one eye Philœnis weeps. How done

If you inquire, know she hath got but one.”

=Statius= (61-96 A.D.), a contemporary and rival of Martial, was the

author of the epic “Theba’is,” based on the strife of the sons of

Œdipus (see p. 200). Despite the fact that the poet gave a year’s work

to each of its twelve books, this epic has little to recommend it.

Statius began another poem on the life of Achilles, which he did not

live to finish. His forte lay not in the line of epics, but in the

improvising of short pointed pieces, thirty-two of which are preserved

in the collection called “Silvæ.” Juvenal bears witness to his

popularity.

Statius was patronized by the emperor Domitian, but is said to have

been stabbed by the latter with a stylus, in a fit of anger. The

following tender lines are from a poem addressed to his wife Claudia.

STATIUS TO HIS WIFE.

“Whither could ocean’s waves my bark convey,

Nor thou be fond companion of my way?

Yes—did I seek to fix my mansion drear

Where polar ice congeals the inclement year;

Where the seas darken round far Thule’s isle,

Or unapproached recedes the head of Nile;

Thy voice would cheer me on. May that kind Power,

Who joined our hands when in thy beauty’s flower,

Still, when the blooming years of life decline,

Prolong the blessing, and preserve thee mine!

To thee, whose charms gave first the enamoring wound,

And my wild youth in marriage fetters bound;

To thee submissive, I received the rein,

Nor sigh for change, but hug the pleasing chain.

And thou hast listened, with entranced desire,

The first rude sounds that would my lips inspire;

Thy watchful ear would snatch, with keen delight,

My verse, low-murmured through the live-long night.

To only thee my lengthened toils were known,

And with thy years has my Thebaid grown.

I saw thee, what thou art, when late I stood

On the dark verge of the Lethæan flood;

When glazed in death, I closed my quivering eyes,

Relenting Fate restored me to thy sighs;

Thou wert alone the cause, the Power above

Feared thy despair and melted to thy love.”—ELTON.

SULPICIA.—We must not pass over the Roman lyric poetess Sulpicia, the

Sappho of Domitian’s age—a noble lady of exceptional genius, who claims

that she

“First taught the Roman dames to vie

With Græcia’s nymphs of lyric minstrelsy.”

A short satire on Domitian’s expulsion of the Greek philosophers from

Italy, bearing the name of Sulpicia, still survives. It is valuable, as

the only fragment we have from a Roman poetess. From it we extract the

following apt simile:—

“It fares with Romans as with wasps, whose home

Is hung where Juno’s temple rears its dome;

A bristling crowd, they wave their flickering wings,

Their yellow bodies barbed with quivering stings.

But not like wasps, thus tremblingly alive,

The bee, secure returning, haunts her hive;

Forgetful of the comb, by sloth oppressed,

The swarm, the queen, die slow in pampered rest:

And this the sons of Romulus have found,

Sunk in the lap of peace, in long perdition drowned.”

=Quintilian= (35-95 A.D.), of Spanish parentage but Roman education,

for many years taught eloquence successfully in the capital, numbering

among his pupils the nephews of Domitian. He had the good fortune to

enjoy the favor of the emperor, and filled a professorship to which was

attached an annual salary of about $4,000.

Quintilian is honored as the author of the “Institutes of Oratory,”

an exhaustive rhetorical treatise in twelve books, devoted to the

education of the orator from infancy. “No other author,” it has

been said, “ever adorned a scientific treatise with so many happy

metaphors.” No other author, it may be added, ever succeeded better in

investing a dry subject with general interest. The “Institutes” may be

read with profit by all who desire to improve their style.

Quintilian insists on virtue as a requisite of the perfect orator; yet

with strange inconsistency excuses a falsehood if told in a good cause,

and justifies the doing of evil that good may come. We present a few

paragraphs on

THE EMBELLISHMENT OF STYLE.

“By polish and embellishment of style the orator recommends himself

to his auditors in his proper character; in his other efforts he

courts the approbation of the learned, in this the applause of the

multitude. Cicero, in pleading the cause of Cornelius, fought with

arms that were not only stout, but dazzling; nor would he, merely by

instructing the judge, or by speaking to the purpose in pure Latin

and with perspicuity, have caused the Roman people to testify their

admiration of him not only by acclamations, but even by tumults of

applause. It was the sublimity, magnificence, splendor, and dignity of

his eloquence, that drew forth that thunder of approbation.

This grace of style may contribute in no small degree to the success

of a cause; for those who listen with pleasure are both more attentive

and more ready to believe; they are very frequently captivated

with pleasure, and sometimes hurried away in admiration. Thus the

glitter of a sword strikes something of terror into the eyes; and

thunderstorms themselves would not alarm us so much as they do, if it

were their force only, and not also their flame, that was dreaded.

Cicero, accordingly, in one of his letters to Brutus, makes with

good reason the following remark:‘That eloquence which excites no

admiration, I account as nothing.’ Aristotle, also, thinks that to

excite admiration should be one of our greatest objects.

But let the embellishment of our style be manly, noble, and chaste;

let it not affect effeminate delicacy, or a complexion counterfeited

by paint, but let it glow with genuine health and vigor. Should I

think a piece of land better cultivated, in which the owner should

show me lilies, anemonies, and violets, and fountains playing, than

one in which there is a plentiful harvest, or vines laden with

grapes? Should I prefer barren plane-trees, or clipped myrtles, to

elms embraced with vines, and fruitful olive-trees? The rich may have

such unproductive gratifications; but what would they be, if they had

nothing else?

Whatever may be attractive in conception, elegant in expression,

pleasing in figures, rich in metaphor, or polished in composition, the

orator, like a dealer, as it were, in eloquence, will lay before his

audience for them to inspect, and almost to handle; for his success

entirely concerns his reputation, and not his cause. But when a

serious affair is in question, and there is a contest in real earnest,

anxiety for mere applause should be an orator’s last concern. Indeed,

no speaker, where important interests are involved, should be very

solicitous about his words.”—WATSON.

Among the lesser lights of the first Christian century were QUINTUS

CURTIUS, who compiled a “History of Alexander the Great;” COLUMELLA,

a writer on agriculture; POMPONIUS MELA, the first Latin geographer;

PROBUS, the grammarian; VALERIUS FLACCUS, who wrote the epic

“Argonautica,” in imitation of Apollonius Rhodius; and SILIUS ITALICUS,

author of a third-rate epic on the Punic Wars.

AGE OF TRAJAN AND THE ANTONINES.

=Juvenal= (40-125 A.D.), the single poet of this age, ranks with Rome’s

great writers. The accounts of his life are fragmentary and obscure.

A native of Aqui’num in Latium, he came to Rome, and was apparently a

student of rhetoric, perhaps an advocate. A chance lampoon on an actor

revealed to him his satirical talent, and forthwith he applied himself

to that branch of poetry in which he became so eminent. Too modest at

first to read his satires even before his friends, Juvenal postponed

publishing them until his sixtieth year, when they took Rome by storm.

Sixteen of them survive.

His fierce diatribes not unnaturally gave offence in high places;

and at length the emperor Ha’drian[49] quietly sent their author off

to Egypt, to command a Roman cohort stationed there—a disgrace which

brought the old satirist in sorrow to the grave.

Juvenal probed Roman society to its very depths, laying bare vices of

the blackest dye. In his day, the degenerate masters of the world even

out-sodomed Sodom in depravity. Nobles and emperors openly perpetrated

the vilest crimes. High-born ladies, in male attire, entered the arena

to fight like gladiators; revelled in reckless extravagance; plunged

into immoralities that call up a blush in the very recital, and even

added the arts of the poisoner to their accomplishments. Thus the poet

exclaims against these fashionable murderesses:—

“They see upon the stage the Grecian wife

Redeeming with her own her husband’s life;

Yet, in her place, would willingly deprive

Their lords of breath, to keep their dogs alive!

Abroad, at home, the Belides[50] you meet,

And Clytemnestras swarm in every street;

But here the difference lies—those bungling wives

With a blunt axe hacked out their husbands’ lives;

While now the deed is done with dexterous art,

And a drugged bowl performs the axe’s part.”

In the blaze of his satire Juvenal brought out the representative

characters of his time. Parasites, hypocrites, and panders, upstarts,

legacy-hunters, and gamblers, ballet-dancers and fortune-tellers,

gluttons and sots,—defile before us in his pages till we turn with

nausea from the revolting panorama. Well might the poet sigh:—

“Oh! happy were our sires, estranged from crimes;

And happy, happy were the good old times,

Which saw beneath their kings’, their tribunes’ reign,

One cell the nation’s criminals contain!”

Juvenal’s vividness of description and minuteness of detail show him to

have been personally familiar with the vices he lashed; that he kept

himself unspotted we can neither assert nor deny. His satires are full

of moral precepts and virtuous sentiments; the Tenth, perhaps the gem

of the collection, has lent more thoughts and expressions to modern

times than any other Latin poem of equal length. It closes with a

beautiful petition:—

JUVENAL’S PRAYER.

“O Thou who know’st the wants of human kind,

Vouchsafe me health of body, health of mind;

A soul prepared to meet the frowns of fate,

And look undaunted on a future state;

That reckons death a blessing, yet can bear

Existence nobly, with its weight of care;

That anger and desire alike restrains,

And counts Alcides’ toils, and cruel pains,

Superior far to banquets, wanton nights,

And all the Assyrian monarch’s soft delights!

Here bound, at length, thy wishes. I but teach

What blessings man, by his own powers, may reach.

The path to peace is virtue. We should see,

If wise, O Fortune, naught divine in thee:

But we have deified a name alone,

And fixed in heaven thy visionary throne!”

Brevity, intensity, and vigor, are conspicuous elements in our author’s

style. He always used “the best words in the right places.” Said

Dryden, his only peer in satiric poetry, “Juvenal gives me as much

pleasure as I can bear.” We extract from the Tenth Satire one of his

most graphic passages:—

THE INSTABILITY OF FORTUNE.

[Illustrated by the fall of Sejanus.]

“Some, Power hurls headlong from her envied height;

Some, the broad tablet, flashing on the sight,

With titles, names: the statues, tumbled down,

Are dragged by hooting thousands through the town;

The brazen cars torn rudely from the yoke,

And, with the blameless steeds, to shivers broke—

Then roar the flames! The sooty artist blows,

And all Sejanus[51] in the furnace glows;

Sejanus, once so honored, so adored,

And only second to the world’s great lord,

Runs glittering from the mould, in cups and cans,

Basins and ewers, plates, pitchers, pots, and pans.

‘Crown all your doors with bay, triumphant bay!

Sacred to Jove, the milk-white victim slay;

For lo! where great Sejanus by the throng,

A joyful spectacle! is dragged along.

What lips! what cheeks! ha, traitor! for my part,

I never loved the fellow—in my heart.’

‘But tell me, why was he adjudged to bleed?

And who discovered, and who proved the deed?’

‘Proved!—a huge wordy letter came to-day

From Capreæ.’ Good! what think the people? They—

They follow fortune, as of old, and hate,

With their whole souls, the victim of the state.

Yet would the herd, thus zealous, thus on fire,

Had Nursia[52] met the Tuscan’s fond desire,

And crushed the unwary prince, have all combined,

And hailed Sejanus master of mankind!

Lured by the splendor of his happier hour,

Wouldst thou possess Sejanus’ wealth and power;

See crowds of suppliants at thy levee wait,

Give this to sway the army, that the state;

And keep a prince in ward, retired to reign

O’er Capreæ’s crags, with his Chaldean train?

Yes, yes, thou wouldst (for I can read thy breast)

Enjoy that favor which he once possessed,

Assume all offices, grasp all commands,

The Imperial Horse, and the Prætorian Bands,

’Tis Nature, this; e’en those who want the will,

Pant for the dreadful privilege to kill:

Yet what delight can rank and power bestow,

Since every joy is balanced by its woe!”—GIFFORD.

=Tacitus= (54-118 A.D.).—Foremost among the prose writers of this later

period was Caius Cornelius Tacitus, by some considered the greatest

of Roman historians. Of his early life we know nothing, though as a

youth he seems to have mastered those arts which afterward made him

a successful orator. In the reign of Vespasian he took to wife the

daughter of Julius Agricola, the Roman governor of Britain, and began a

public career which culminated under Nerva (97 A.D.) in the consulship.

After this he probably confined his attention to literature, busying

himself with the compilation of historical works until death put an end

to his labors.

The first of these in the order of time was the “Agricola,” an

admirable biography of the author’s father-in-law, “the hero of a

hundred fights, the conqueror of those warlike islanders whom the

mighty Julius left to their original freedom, and whom Claudius and

his captains imperfectly subdued.” It is particularly valuable for the

light it casts on the history of Britain, and the influence of Roman

institutions.

“Agricola,” said Tacitus, “gave private encouragement and public aid

to the building of temples, courts of justice, and dwelling-houses,

praising the energetic and reproving the indolent. Thus an honorable

rivalry took the place of compulsion. He likewise provided a liberal

education for the sons of the chiefs, and showed such a preference for

the natural powers of the Britons over the industry of the Gauls that

they who lately disdained the tongue of Rome now coveted its eloquence.

Hence, too, a liking sprung up for our style of dress, and the _toga_

became fashionable. Step by step they were led to things which dispose

to vice—the lounge, the bath, the elegant banquet. All this, in their

ignorance, they called civilization.”

The “Agricola” was followed by “the Germania,” a treatise on the

situation, customs, and tribes of Germany, in whose freedom-loving

warriors Tacitus saw an enemy to be feared. What more caustic satires

than his telling contrasts of their simple habits with Roman luxury,

their stern morality with Roman profligacy? The Germania may be

regarded as a warning from a patriotic historian to his vice-ridden,

enervated countrymen—a warning which they would have done well to

regard. Particularly pleasing are its picturesque sketches of German

life, written in concise, vigorous language.

The remaining works of Tacitus are his “Histories,” “Annals,” and a

Dialogue on “the Decline of Eloquence.” The Histories covered the

reigns of the Roman emperors from Galba to Domitian inclusive (69-96

A.D.); about one-third of the work is preserved. The genius of Tacitus

did ample justice to the tremendous issues of this eventful period,

described by him as follows:—

“I am entering on the history of a period rich in disasters, frightful

in its wars, torn by civil strife, and even in peace full of horrors.

Four emperors perished by the sword. There were three civil wars:

there were more with foreign enemies: there were often wars that had

both characters at once. Now, too, Italy was prostrated by disasters,

either entirely novel or that recurred only after a long succession

of ages. Cities in Campania’s richest plains were swallowed up and

overwhelmed; Rome was wasted by conflagrations, its oldest temples

were consumed, and the Capitol itself was fired by the hands of

citizens. Never, surely, did more terrible calamities of the Roman

people, or evidence more conclusive, prove that the gods take no

thought for our happiness, but only for our punishment.”

In the “Annals” (sixteen books), which traced the history of the

emperors from the death of Augustus up to the point at which the

Histories had opened, the voice of the indignant satirist is everywhere

heard. Portions of this work, which were published about 115 A.D., are

lost. We extract the historian’s vivid description of the burning of

Rome.

THE BURNING OF ROME.

“There followed a dreadful disaster, whether fortuitously or by the

wicked contrivance of the prince is not determined, for both are

asserted by historians. But of all the calamities which ever befell

this city from the rage of fire, this was the most terrible. It broke

out in that part of the Circus which is contiguous to mounts Palatine

and Cœlius, where, by reason of shops in which were kept such goods

as minister aliment to fire, the moment it commenced it acquired

strength, and being accelerated by the wind, it spread at once through

the whole extent of the Circus. For neither were the houses secured by

enclosures, nor the temples environed with walls, nor was there any

other obstacle to intercept its progress; but the flame, spreading

every way impetuously, invaded first the lower regions of the city,

then mounted to the higher; then again ravaging the lower, it baffled

every effort to extinguish it, by the rapidity of its destructive

course, and from the liability of the city to conflagration in

consequence of the narrow and intricate alleys, and the irregularity

of the streets in ancient Rome.

Add to this the wailings of terrified women, the infirm condition of

the aged, and the helplessness of childhood; such as strove to provide

for themselves, and those who labored to assist others; these dragging

the feeble, those waiting for them; some hurrying, others lingering;

altogether created a scene of universal confusion and embarrassment.

While they looked back upon the danger in their rear, they often found

themselves beset before, and on their sides; or if they had escaped

into the quarters adjoining, these too were already seized by the

devouring flames; even the parts which they believed to be remote and

exempt, were found to be in the same distress.

At last, not knowing what to shun or where to seek sanctuary, they

crowded the streets, and lay along in the open fields. Some, from

the loss of their whole substance, even the means of their daily

sustenance, others, from affection for their relatives whom they had

not been able to snatch from the flames, suffered themselves to perish

in them, though they had opportunity to escape. Neither dared any man

offer to check the fire: so repeated were the menaces of many who

forbade to extinguish it; and because others openly threw fire-brands,

with loud declarations‘that they had one who authorized them;’

whether they did it that they might plunder with less restraint, or in

consequence of orders given.

Nero, who was at that juncture sojourning at Antium, did not return

to the city till the fire approached that quarter of his house

which connected the palace with the gardens of Mæcenas; nor could

it, however, be prevented from devouring the house, and palace, and

everything around. But for the relief of the people thus destitute

and driven from their dwellings, he opened the field of Mars, and

even his own gardens. He likewise reared temporary houses for the

reception of the forlorn multitude; from Ostia and the neighboring

cities were brought household necessaries, and the price of grain was

reduced to three sesterces (about 11½ cts.) the measure. All which

proceedings, though of a popular character, were thrown away, because

a rumor had become universally current, that at the very time when the

city was in flames Nero, going on the stage of his private theatre,

sung‘The Destruction of Troy,’ assimilating the present disaster to

that catastrophe of ancient times.

At length, on the sixth day, the conflagration was stayed by pulling

down an immense quantity of buildings, so that an open space and, as

it were, void air, might check the raging element by breaking the

continuity.... But not all the bounties that the prince could bestow,

nor all the atonements which could be presented to the gods, availed

to relieve Nero from the infamy of being believed to have ordered

the fire. Hence, to suppress the rumor, he falsely charged with the

guilt and punished with the most exquisite tortures, the persons

commonly called Christians, who were hated for their enormities.[53]

Christus, the founder of that sect, was put to death as a criminal by

Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judea, in the reign of Tiberius; but

the pernicious superstition, repressed for a time, broke out again,

not only through Judea, where the mischief originated, but through

the city of Rome also, whither all things horrible and disgraceful

flow from all quarters, as to a common receptacle, and where they are

encouraged.

Accordingly, first those were seized who confessed they were

Christians; next, on their information, a vast, multitude were

convicted, not so much on a charge of burning the city as of hating

the human race. And in their deaths they were also made the subjects

of sport, for they were covered with the hides of wild beasts and

worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and

when day declined burned to serve for nocturnal lights.[54] Nero

offered his own gardens for that spectacle, and exhibited a Circensian

game, indiscriminately mingling with the common people in the habit

of a charioteer, or else standing in his chariot. Whence a feeling of

compassion arose toward the sufferers, though guilty and deserving to

be made examples of by capital punishment, because they seemed not to

be cut off for the public good, but victims to the ferocity of one

man.”

=Suetonius=, a contemporary of Tacitus, appears to have been born in

the reign of Vespasian. His literary labors began in Trajan’s time; and

under Hadrian he occupied the honorable position of private secretary,

which, however, he lost in consequence of disrespect to the empress.

The best-known of his works, and the only one that has been preserved

entire, is his “Lives of the Twelve Cæsars,” full, interesting, and

trustworthy in its information, clear and vigorous in style. The

“Cæsars” of Suetonius has always been a standard. The Romans dwelt on

his stories with gusto; but in such frightful colors did he paint the

deeds of Caligula that the tyrant Com’modus made death by wild beasts

the penalty for reading his life of that emperor. After the invention

of printing, editions of Suetonius multiplied rapidly.

EXTRACTS FROM SUETONIUS.

SUPERSTITION OF AUGUSTUS.

“Some signs and omens he regarded as infallible. If in the morning his

shoe was put on wrong, the left instead of the right, that boded some

disaster. If when he commenced a long journey, by sea or land, there

happened to fall a mizzling rain, he held it to be a good sign of a

speedy and happy return. He was much affected likewise with anything

out of the common course of nature. A palm-tree which chanced to grow

up between some stones in the court of his house, he transplanted into

a court where the images of the household gods were placed, and took

all possible care to make it thrive. He also observed certain days; as

never to go from home the day after the market-days, nor to begin any

serious business upon the nones.”

CHARACTER OF CALIGULA.

“Caligula evinced the savage barbarity of his temper by the following

indications. When flesh was only to be had at a high price for feeding

his wild beasts, he ordered that criminals should be given them to

be devoured. After disfiguring many persons of honorable rank, by

branding them in the face with hot irons, he condemned them to the

mines, to work in repairing the highways, or to fight with wild

beasts; or, tying them by the neck and heels, would shut them up in

cages, or saw them asunder.

Nor were these severities inflicted merely for crimes of great

enormity, but for making remarks on his public games, or for not

having sworn by the Genius of the emperor. He compelled parents to

be present at the execution of their sons; and to one who excused

himself on account of indisposition, he sent his own litter. He

burned alive the writer of a farce, for some witty verse which had

a double meaning. A Roman knight, who had been exposed to the wild

beasts, crying out that he was innocent, Caligula called him back, and

having had his tongue cut out, remanded him to the arena.

Even in the midst of his diversions, while gaming or feasting, this

savage ferocity never forsook him. Persons were often put to the

torture in his presence, while he was dining or carousing. At Puteoli,

at the dedication of the bridge, he invited a number of people to come

to him from the shore, and then suddenly threw them headlong into the

sea; thrusting down with poles and oars those who, to save themselves,

had got hold of the rudders of the ships. As often as he met with

handsome men, who had fine heads of hair, he would order the back of

their heads to be shaved, to make them look ridiculous. At a sumptuous

entertainment, he fell suddenly into a violent fit of laughter, and

upon the consuls’, who reclined next to him, respectfully asking him

the occasion,‘Nothing,’ replied he,‘but that upon a single nod of

mine, you might both have your throats cut.’

In profuse expenditure he surpassed all the prodigals that ever lived;

inventing a new kind of bath, washing in precious unguents, both warm

and cold, drinking pearls of immense value dissolved in vinegar,

and serving up for his guests loaves and other victuals modelled in

gold. He built two ships with ten banks of oars, the sterns of which

blazed with jewels while the sails were of various colors. They were

fitted up with baths, galleries, and saloons, and supplied with a

great variety of vines and fruit-trees. In these he would sail in

the daytime along the coast of Campania, feasting amidst dancing and

concerts of music.”

STUPIDITY OF CLAUDIUS.

“Among other things, people wondered at the indifference and

absent-mindedness of Claudius. Placing himself at table a little after

Messalina’s death, he inquired,‘Why does not the empress come?’ Many

of those he had condemned to death, he ordered the day after to be

invited to his table, and to game with him, and sent to reprimand

them as sluggish fellows for not making greater haste. The following

expression he had in his mouth at all hours,‘What! do you take me for

a fool?’

A man engaged in litigation before his tribunal drew Claudius aside

and told him,‘I dreamt I saw you murdered;’ and shortly afterward,

when the defendant came to deliver his plea to the emperor, the

plaintiff, pretending to have discovered the murderer, pointed to him

as the man he had seen in his dream: whereupon, as if he had been

taken in the act, he was hurried away to execution.”—DR. THOMSON.

=Pliny the Younger= (62-113 A.D.), nephew and adopted son of the

naturalist, learned his early lessons from Quintilian and other

celebrated rhetoricians. After figuring for a time as a successful

advocate, he was elevated to the consulship, and in Trajan’s reign,

having served his second term as consul, received the appointment of

governor of Bithynia.

Pliny took a prominent stand as the champion of the wronged, and

delighted in compelling dishonest governors to disgorge their stolen

spoils. The eloquent speeches identified with his name have perished,

with the exception of a single specimen, a panegyric on Trajan. It is

as a letter-writer that Pliny is entitled to a place among the worthies

of Latin literature. His epistles to his friends and the emperor (in

ten books) are among the most pleasing relics of antiquity, affording,

as they do, many instructive glimpses of contemporary society. They are

written with life and polish, and show their author to have been “the

perfect type of a pagan gentleman.”

While governor of Bithynia, Pliny corresponded frequently with Trajan

on official business. We give below one of his letters in relation to

the Christians, with Trajan’s reply.

PLINY’S LETTER ON THE CHRISTIANS.

“I had never attended at the trial of a Christian; hence I knew not

what were the usual questions asked them, or what the punishments

inflicted. I doubted, also, whether to make a distinction of ages, or

to treat young and old alike; whether to allow time for recantation,

or to refuse all pardon whatever to one who had been a Christian;

whether, finally, to make the name penal, though no crime should

be proved, or to reserve the penalty for the combination of both.

Meanwhile, when any were reported to me as Christians, I followed

this plan. I asked them whether they were Christians. If they said

yes, I repeated the question twice, adding threats of punishment; if

they persisted, I ordered punishment to be inflicted. For I felt sure

that whatever it was they confessed, their inflexible obstinacy well

deserved to be chastised. There were ever, some Roman citizens who

showed this strange persistence; those I determined to send to Rome.

As often happens in cases of interference, charges were now lodged

more generally than before, and several forms of guilt came before me.

An anonymous letter was sent, containing the names of many persons,

who, however, denied that they were or had been Christians. As they

invoked the gods and worshipped with wine and frankincense before

your image, at the same time cursing Christ, I released them the more

readily, as those who are really Christians cannot be got to do any

of these things. Others, who were named to me, admitted that they

were Christians, but immediately afterward denied it; some said they

had been so three years ago, others at still more distant dates, one

or two as long ago as twenty years. All these worshipped your image

and those of the gods, and abjured Christ. But they declared that all

their guilt or error had amounted to was this: they met on certain

mornings before daybreak, and sung one after another a hymn to Christ

as God, at the same time binding themselves by an oath not to commit

any crime, but to abstain from theft, robbery, adultery, perjury, or

repudiation of trust. After this was done, the meeting broke up; they,

however, came together again to eat their meal in common, being quite

guiltless of any improper conduct. But since my edict forbidding (as

you ordered) all secret societies, they had given this practice up.

However, I thought it necessary to apply the torture to some young

women who were called _ministræ_ (deaconesses), in order, if possible,

to find out the truth. But I could elicit nothing from them except

evidence of some debased and immoderate superstition; so I deferred

the trial, and determined to ask your advice. For the matter seemed

important, especially since the number of those who run into danger

increases daily. All ages, all ranks, and both sexes, are among the

accused, and the taint of the superstition is not confined to the

towns; it has actually made its way into the villages. But I believe

it possible to check and repress it. At all events, it is certain

that temples which were lately almost empty are now well attended,

and sacred festivals long disused are being revived. Victims too are

flowing in, whereas a few years ago such things could hardly find a

purchaser. From this I infer that vast numbers might be reformed, if

an opportunity of recantation were allowed them.”

TRAJAN’S REPLY.

“I entirely approve of your conduct with regard to those Christians of

whom you had received information. We can never lay down a universal

rule, as if circumstances were always the same. They are not to be

searched for; but if they are reported and convicted, they must be

punished. But if any denies his Christianity and proves his words

by sacrificing to our divinity, even if his former conduct may have

laid him under suspicion, he must be allowed the benefit of his

recantation. No weight whatever should be attached to anonymous

communications; they are no Roman way of dealing, and are altogether

reprehensible.”—CRUTTWELL.

During the period under consideration, FLORUS abridged Livy’s “Annals;”

AULUS GELLIUS (125-175 A.D.) crowded into his “Attic Nights” (a work in

twenty books, prepared by night at Athens) a vast store of historical

anecdotes and extracts from works now lost; GAIUS, the jurist, composed

his “Institutes;” and FRONTO wrote his epistles.

=Apuleius.=—Last of the writers of this age, but by no means least

when we consider the influence of his tales upon modern fiction, is

Apuleius, author of the romance of “the Golden Ass.” Lucius, the

hero, an enthusiast in the study of magic, having seen the sorceress

Pam’phile transform herself into an owl by rubbing an ointment on her

person, endeavors, with the help of her maid, to imitate her example.

But the girl selects the wrong box of ointment from her mistress’s

cabinet; and Lucius, on applying it, is changed into a donkey.

Hardly, however, had the metamorphosis been effected when a band of

robbers made a descent upon the house, loaded a portion of their

plunder on the ass’s back, and made good their escape, driving Lucius

before them. In search of rose-leaves, which the maid told him

would remove the spell, the hero meets with a series of marvellous

adventures. Among the episodes introduced is the oft-repeated tale of

Cupid and Psy’che. In the Decameron, Don Quixote, and Gil Bias, some of

these old Roman stories are told over again.

The style of Apuleius is unnatural; his Latin is bad. Besides “the

Golden Ass,” he wrote a discourse on Magic, on “the God of Socrates,”

and the “Florida,” a collection of paragraphs from his own orations.

LATER LATIN AUTHORS.

After its temporary revival under Trajan’s kindly rule, Latin

literature gradually sunk into a hopeless decline. In the long array

of names that represent the last three centuries of the Roman Empire,

we find none more worthy of respect than those of the Latin fathers.

Greatest of these was

=St. Augustine= (354-430 A.D.), of whom Tulloch said “no single name

has ever made such an impression upon Christian thought.”

Impressed with the truth of the Gospel by the eloquence of Ambrose

at Milan, where he had gone to teach rhetoric, Augustine at length

received baptism, to the delight of his saintly mother Mon’ica, who had

long prayed for his conversion. When raised to the bishopric of Hippo

in Africa, Augustine zealously engaged in a controversy with Pela’gius

and his followers, who entertained heterodox views in relation to grace

and original sin. The bishop put forth fifteen treatises in refutation

of the Pelagian heresies. His greatest works were “the City of God,”

a vindication of Christianity, “Confessions,” and a treatise on the

Trinity.

=Ambrose=, bishop of Milan, who lived in the last half of the fourth

century, was the author of numerous epistles and hymns, the _Te Deum_

being one of his compositions. His “Offices” defines the duties of

Christian pastors.

=St. Jerome= (Hieronymus) (340-420), the great apostle of monasticism,

from a convent at Bethlehem promulgated his Latin version of the Old

and New Testaments, called the Vulgate (_common_) because designed for

the use of the common people, who understood no language but Latin.

Jerome’s Bible, adopted as a standard version, was the first book ever

put to press (1455).

=St. Gregory=, bishop of Constantinople, the last of the four great

Latin fathers and the most poetical of early Christian writers, has

left us a book of epistles, orations, and religious poems. He pressed

into the service of Christianity the arts of Greek rhetoric, and

assailed Julian the Apostate in two speeches that recall the invective

of the Attic orators.

=Tertullian= (150-230), “the Master,” one of the earlier Christian

authors, is worthy of mention not only for his numerous practical

treatises on Penance, Idolatry, Theatrical Exhibitions, etc., but also

for his polemical works against unbelievers, and the “Apologeticus” in

defence of Christianity. In after-life Tertullian joined a heretical

sect.

=Cyprian=, bishop of Carthage, the pupil of Tertullian, defended his

religion with an eloquent pen, and finally laid down his life for his

faith (258).

=Lactantius=, “the Christian Cicero,” was the most learned man of

Constantine’s age (306-337). His earliest effort, an hexameter poem,

“the Banquet,” gained him such reputation that the emperor Diocletian

appointed him to give instruction in rhetoric at Nicomedia. The

“Banquet” is lost; but several of the author’s prose works remain, the

greatest being his “Divine Institutions.” In his treatise “On the Death

of the Persecutors,” Lactantius endeavors to prove the avenging hand of

God in the violent ends of those emperors who had oppressed his people.

=Boëthius.=—Finally, we must notice the famous moral treatise “On the

Consolation of Philosophy,” by Boëthius, a Roman noble who outlived the

fall of his country (476). A model of integrity and justice, Boëthius

was loaded with honors by Theod’oric, the Ostrogothic king of Italy;

but at last, falsely accused by his enemies of witchcraft and treason,

he was executed by his suspicious master (525).

The above-mentioned work was much read during the Middle Ages. Alfred

the Great rendered it into Anglo-Saxon; Chaucer, into English; and

later writers have reproduced its sentiments.

SPECIMENS OF LATER POETRY.

As a favorable specimen of later Latin poetry, we quote a few verses

from an eclogue on hunting by NEMESIAN (280), a favorite poet in the

time of Charlemagne, extensively read in the schools:—

“The toil that should round lawn and forest spread,

Hemming the nimble prey in moveless dread,

Must with inwoven plumes its threads divide,

From every various wing diversely dyed.

This the keen wolf and flying stag shall scare,

The fox, the monstrous boar, and shaggy bear;

As if with lightning flash, aghast, confound,

And still forbid to pass the checkered bound.

This then, with various paint anointing, smear;

Let florid hues with snowy white appear,

And lengthen on the threads the alternate fear.

A thousand terrors from his painted wings,

To aid thy enterprise, the vulture brings.

The swan, the goose, the crane, and each that laves

His webbèd feet amid the stagnant waves.

Then rarer plumes shall brighter tints bestow,

Where scarlet deepens in its native glow:

Where flights of birds on blooming pinions rise,

And plumage reddens with its saffron dyes,

Or streaks in green its pied varieties.

Thy gear complete, when autumn’s end is near,

And showery winter overhangs the year,

Begin: your hounds unkennel in the mead;

Begin: O’er champaign fields impel the steed.

Hunt, while the daybreak sheds its glimmering light,

And the fresh dews retain the scented tracks of night.”

ELTON.

A different style was that of CLAUDIAN, the court poet in the reign of

Theodosius the Great (379-395). Tawdry and artificial in general, it

was displayed to the best advantage in his amatory pieces and marriage

hymns; as in this description of

THE SLEEPING VENUS.

“It chanced, in quest of slumbers cool, the Queen

Of Love in vine-wrought grot retired unseen;

Her star-bright limbs on tufted grass were spread,

A heap of flowers the pillow for her head.

The Idalian maids lie round; the Graces twine

Their arms, and screened by spreading oak recline.

The wingèd boys, where shade invites, repose

On every side; unstrung their loosened bows;

While, on a neighboring branch suspended high,

With gentle flames their breathing quivers sigh.

Some wakeful sport, or through the thickets rove;

Climb for the nest, or blithely strip the grove

Of dewy apples for the Queen of Love;

Along the bough’s curved windings creeping cling,

Or hang from topmost elm with light-poised wing.”

AUSONIUS of Bordeaux, an affected verse-maker of the fourth century,

wrote much that is second-rate, in the way of epigrams and idyls, too

often of a licentious tone; but there is some merit in the following

reflections on

ROSES.

“’Twas spring; the morn returned in saffron veil,

And breathed a bracing coolness in the gale.

Through the broad walks I trod the garden bowers,

And roamed, refreshed against the noontide hours.

I saw the hoary dew’s congealing drops

Bend the tall grass and vegetable tops;

The sprinkled pearls on every rose-bush lay,

Anon to melt before the beams of day.

I saw a moment’s interval divide

The rose that blossomed from the rose that died.

This with its cap of tufted moss looked green;

That, tipped with reddening purple, peeped between.

One reared its obelisk with opening swell,

The bud unsheathed its crimson pinnacle;

Another, gathering every purfled fold,

Its foliage multiplied, its blooms unrolled.

While this, that ere the passing moment flew,

Flamed forth one blaze of scarlet on the view,

Now shook from withering stalk the waste perfume,

Its verdure stript, and pale its faded bloom.

I marvelled at the spoiling flight of time,

That roses thus grew old in earliest prime.

E’en while I speak, the crimson leaves drop round,

And a red brightness veils the blushing ground.

These forms, these births, these changes, bloom, decay,

Appear and vanish in the self-same day.

One day the rose’s age; and while it blows,

In dawn of youth, it withers to its close.

O virgins! roses cull while yet ye may;

So bloom your hours, and so shall haste away.”

ELTON.

GEMS OF LATIN THOUGHT.[55]

PLAUTUS.

“Easy is sway over the good.—Man to his fellow-man is a wolf.—No one

left to himself is sufficiently wise.—All things are not equally sweet

to all.—No one is inquisitive without being ill-natured.—A woman who

has good principles has dowry enough.—Courage in danger is half the

battle.—Good fortune finds good friends.—Love is very fruitful in both

honey and gall.—Flame is very near to smoke.”

TERENCE.

“The strictest administration of law is often the greatest

wrong.—Without danger no great and memorable deed is done.—Fortune

favors the brave.—Many men, many minds.—Nothing in excess.—As we can,

when we cannot as we would.—Nothing is said now that has not been said

before.—Obsequiousness begets friends, truthfulness hatred.”

VARRO.

“It is divine nature that has given the country, human art that has

built cities.—As a state ought to worship the gods in its public

capacity, so ought each family.”

CICERO.

“Justice gives every one his due.—No one was ever great without

divine inspiration.—The noblest spirit is the most strongly attracted

by the love of glory.—One man is more useful in one thing, another

in another.—Guilt lies in the very hesitation, even though the act

itself has not been reached.—The chief recommendation comes from

modesty.—Fear is no lasting teacher of duty.—Any man may err, but no

one but a fool will persevere in error.—The memory of a well-spent

life is everlasting.—Whatever you do, you should do it with your

might.—Glory follows virtue like its shadow.”

LUCRETIUS.

“The ring on the finger is worn thin by constant use.—It is pleasant,

when winds roughen the sea with great waves, to behold from the shore

another’s arduous toil.—We are all sprung from heavenly seeds.—Weigh

well with judgment; what seems true, hold fast; gird thyself against

what is false.—We see that the mind strengthens with the body, and

with the body grows old.”

CATULLUS.

“Nothing is sillier than a silly laugh.—What a woman says to her fond

lover may well be written on the wind and rapid stream.”

SALLUST.

“Every one is the architect of his own fortune.—The endowments of the

mind form the only illustrious and lasting possession.—Fear closes the

ears of the mind.—The mind is the leader and director of the life of

mortals.—In grief and miseries, death is a respite from sorrows, not

a punishment.—To have the same likes and dislikes, this in a word is

firm friendship.”

VIRGIL.

“Endure, and preserve yourselves for prosperous times.—We are not all

able to accomplish all things.—Love conquers all things, and to love

let us yield.—Praise large farms, cultivate a small one.—The only

safety for the vanquished is to hope for no safety.—Accursed thirst

for gold, what dost thou not drive mortal breasts to do?—Nowhere is

faith safe.—Whatever shall happen, every kind of fortune is to be

overcome by patient endurance.—Hug the shore; let others launch out

into the deep.”

HORACE.

“There is a mean in all things.—It is right for one craving

forgiveness for his sins to grant it to others in turn.—There

is nothing too high for mortals; in our folly we storm heaven

itself.—Life has given nothing to mortals without great toil.—Avoid

inquiring what is about to be to-morrow.—To die for one’s native land

is sweet and glorious.—Punishment presses on crime as a companion.—He

has carried every point who has mingled the useful with the agreeable.”

LIVY.

“Wounds cannot be cured unless they are touched and handled.—Necessity

is the ultimate and strongest weapon.—In nothing do events less

answer to men’s expectations than in war.—It is safer that a wicked

man should not be accused at all than that he should be acquitted.—In

difficult and almost hopeless cases the boldest counsels are the

safest.”

TIBULLUS.

“There is a God who forbids that crimes should be concealed.—Happy

thou who shalt learn by another’s suffering how to avoid thine

own.—While thy early summer-time is blooming, use it; it slips away

with no slow foot.”

PROPERTIUS.

“Neither is beauty a thing eternal, nor is fortune lasting to any;

later or sooner death awaits everybody.—In maddening love nobody

sees.—Let no one be willing to injure the absent.—Great love crosses

even the shores of death.”

OVID.

“A wounded member that cannot be healed must be cut off with the

knife, lest the healthy part be affected.—It is the coward’s part

to wish for death.—Even the unconquered man grief conquers.—A mind

conscious of rectitude laughs at the lies of rumor.—The reefed sail

escapes the storms of winter.”

NEPOS.

“No evil is great which is the last.—Peace is obtained by war.—The

mother of a coward is not wont to weep.”

PHÆDRUS.

“The poor man, striving to imitate the powerful, comes to grief.—The

fair speeches of a bad man are full of snares.—Rashness is an

advantage to few, a source of evil to many.—The learned man always has

his riches within himself.”

PLINY.

_The Elder._—“Every one is pleased with his own, and wherever we go

the same story is found.—No one of mortals is wise at all hours.—Our

ancestors used to say that the master’s eye is the best fertilizer for

the field.”

_The Younger._—“Nothing seems as good, when we have gained it, as

it did when we were wishing for it.—I deem him the best and most

commendable who pardons others as if he himself daily went astray, yet

abstains from faults as if he pardoned no one.”

LUCAN.

“Great fear is concealed by daring.—The prosperous man knows not

whether he is truly loved.—An offence in which many are engaged, goes

unpunished.”

PETRONIUS ARBITER.

“A physician is nothing more than a satisfaction to the mind.—Fear

first made gods in the world.—There is no one of us that sinneth not;

we are men, not gods.—Poverty is the sister of a sound mind.”

TACITUS.

“Traitors are odious even to those whom they benefit.—When the state

is most corrupt, the laws are most numerous.—There will be vices

as long as there are men.—Everything unknown is magnified.—It is a

peculiarity of the human mind to hate one whom you have injured.”

JUVENAL.

“Rare is the combination of beauty and modesty.—Nature never says one

thing, and wisdom another.—Himself being the judge, no guilty man

is acquitted.—The anger of the gods, however great it may be, yet

certainly is slow.—Less frequent enjoyment of them makes pleasures

keener.”

MINOR POETS AND PROSE WRITERS.

CREMU’TIUS CORDUS, the historian: “Annals.” Cordus offended Tiberius

by styling Cassius “the last of the Romans,” and starved himself to

death to escape the tyrant.

AUFID’IUS BASSUS: histories of the civil and German wars.

ASCO’NIUS PEDIA’NUS: a grammarian of Patavium; commentaries on

Cicero’s orations.

PETRO’NIUS ARBITER, the companion and victim of Nero: author of

“Satyricon,” a witty romance, of which a few fragments remain.

JULIUS FRONTI’NUS: a self-made man of the Flavian era; works on the

Roman aqueducts, military tactics, the measurement of land, etc.

LICINIA’NUS (age of the Antonines): a history of republican Rome;

style affected.

MARCUS AURELIUS, the emperor (161-180): a devoted Stoic; his

“Meditations” (in Greek) full of noble sentiments.

PAPINIAN AND ULPIAN, the jurists (about 200): writers on law.

SPARTIA’NUS (300): “Biographies of the Roman Emperors.”

ÆLIUS DONA’TUS (4th century): the preceptor of St. Jerome; his “Art of

Grammar” once a popular text-book.

PRUDENTIUS CLE’MENS (4th century): a Christian poet; hymns, etc.

AVIE’NUS (4th century): poems on astronomical and geographical

subjects.

AMMIA’NUS MARCELLI’NUS (died about 400): the last Latin historian; his

“Thirty-one Books of Events,” a continuation of the history of Tacitus

through the reign of Valens (378).

SYMMACHUS (400): a high-minded opponent of Christianity; defeated

by Ambrose in an attempt to restore the altar of Victory; orations,

epistles.

RUTILIUS (5th century): poetical diary of a journey from Rome to Gaul;

style terse and elegant.

PRISCIAN (6th century): the greatest of classical grammarians; the

most complete Latin Grammar of antiquity.

INDEX.

Academic School of Philosophy, 241.

Accius, 328.

Achæus, 261.

Achilles Tatius, 295.

Acusilaus, 183.

Ælian, 302.

Æneid, the, 362.

Æschines, 257, 260.

Æschylus, 193, 194.

Æsop, 181.

Agathon, 261.

Agias, the Trœzenian, 156.

Albinovanus, 382.

Alcæus, 164.

Alcman, 178.

Alphabetic Writing, 19, 20.

Alphabets, Table of Ancient, 87.

Ambrose, 421.

Ammonius, 293.

Amos, 97.

Amphion, 138.

Anacreon, 172.

Anaxagoras, 234.

Anaximander, 183.

Anaximenes, 183.

Anthology, the, 297.

Antimachus, 192.

Antisthenes, 254.

Antonius, 327.

Anyte, 280.

Apocrypha, the, 99.

Apollodorus, 280.

Apollonius Rhodius, 275.

Appian, 302.

Apuleius, 420.

Arabic literature, 114.

Aratus, 280.

Archilochus, 161.

Archimedes, 276.

Arctinus of Miletus, 156.

Aristarchus, 277.

Aristophanes, 213; of Byzantium, 277.

Aristotle, 247.

Arrian, 302.

Aryans, the, 13.

Assyrio-Babylonian literature, 106-114.

Athanasius, 294.

Augustine, St., 421.

Augustus, 329, 334, 338, 354, 357, 373, 380, 382.

Aurelius, Marcus, 428.

Ausonius, 424.

Avatars, 39.

Avesta, 60, 62.

Avienus, 428.

Bacchylides, 178.

Bassus Aufidius, 428.

Berosus, 279.

Bias of Priene, 184.

Bion, 269.

Boëthius, 422.

Book of the Dead, 122, 126.

Buddhist literature, 58.

Cadmus of Miletus, 179, 183.

Cæcilius, 316.

Cæsar, Julius, 339.

Callimachus, 274.

Callinus, 159.

Callistratus, 261.

Calpurnius Piso, 328.

Calvus, Licinius, 387.

Carbo, 328.

Carthaginian literature, 116.

Cato the Censor, 324.

Catullus, 352.

Catulus, 328.

Celsus, the philosopher, 293; the physician, 390.

Champollion, 119, 120.

Charon of Lampsacus, 184.

Chilo of Sparta, 184.

Chinese, language, 67; literature, 67-83.

Chrysostom, St., 294.

Cicero, 330.

Cincius, 328.

Cinna, 387.

Claudian, 423.

Cleanthes, 280.

Cleobulus of Lindus, 184.

Cleon, 213, 226.

Columella, 408.

Comparative Philology, 33.

Confucius, 70-73.

Cordus, Cremutius, 428.

Corinna, 186, 188.

Cornelius Severus, 382.

Cornutus, 392.

Cotta, 328.

Crassus, 327.

Crates, the poet, 261; the grammarian, 277, 329.

Cratinus, 261.

Crœsus, 180, 181.

Ctesias, 233.

Cuneiform letters, 19, 65, 66, 105.

Curtius, Quintus, 408.

Cyclic Poets, 152, 156.

Cynics, the, 254.

Cyprian, 422.

Cyrus the Younger, 229.

Damophyla, 171.

Daniel, 98.

Darius, 66.

David, 93, 94.

Democritus, 237.

Demosthenes, 256.

Diodorus Siculus, 281.

Diogenes, the Cynic, 255; Laertius, 302.

Dion Cassius, 302.

Dionysius, of Syracuse, 214, 242; of Halicarnassus, 281.

Donatus, Ælius, 428.

Drama, Hindoo, 54; Greek, 192, 263; Roman, 308.

Ecclesiastes, 96.

Ecclesiasticus, 99.

Egyptian education, 131.

Egyptian literature, 117-131.

Eleatic School of Philosophy, 237.

Empedocles, 236.

Ennius, 311, 320.

Epicharmus, 212.

Epicurus, 238.

Eratosthenes, 277.

Erinna, 171.

Euclid, 276.

Eugamon of Cyrene, 156.

Eumenes, 24.

Euphorion, 280.

Eupolis, 261.

Euripides, 207.

Eusebius, 294.

Ezekiel, 98.

Ezra, 92, 98.

Fabius Pictor, 324, 328.

Flaccus, Verrius, 387; Valerius, 408.

Frontinus, 428.

Galba, 328.

Galen, 302.

Gallus, Ælius, 387.

Glabrio, Acilius, 328.

Gorgias, 255.

Gracchi, the, 326.

Gratius, 382.

Greece, language of, 135; literature of, 133-302.

Gregory, St., 421.

Habakkuk, 97.

Hebrew, language, 84; literature, 83-104.

Hecatæus, the Milesian, 183.

Heliodorus, 295.

Hellanicus, 184.

Heraclitus, 183.

Herodian, 302.

Herodotus, 222.

Hesiod, 152.

Hiero, 175, 187, 195.

Hierocles, 295.

Hieroglyphics, 18; Chinese, 68; Cuneiform, 105, 106, 108; Egyptian, 120.

Himyaritic inscriptions, 114,

Hipparchus, the astronomer, 277.

Hippocrates, 261.

Hipponax, 177.

Hirtius, 341.

Hittite inscriptions, 113.

Homer, 139-152.

Horace, 369.

Hortensius, 327.

Hosea, 97.

Iamblichus, 294.

Ibycus, 178.

Iliad, the, 141.

Ion, 261.

Ionic School of Philosophy, 234.

Irenæus, 293.

Isæus, 256.

Isaiah, 96.

Isocrates, 256.

Italic School of Philosophy, 234.

Jayadeva, 48.

Jehuda, 101.

Jeremiah, 97.

Jerome, St., 421.

Job, Book of, 93.

Joel, 97.

Jonah, 97.

Jones, Sir William, 33.

Josephus, 284.

Joshua, Book of, 92.

Judges, Book of, 92.

Justin Martyr, 293.

Juvenal, 408.

Kâlidâsa, 46; lyrics of, 46; epics of, 48; dramas of, 50, 53.

King, the Five, 73.

Kings, Books of the, 92.

Labienus, Titus, 387.

Lactantius, 422.

Lælius, 326.

Language spoken, 17; written, 18; the Sanscrit, 31; the Avesta, 60; the

Chinese, 67; the Hebrew, 84; the Chaldean, 105; the Egyptian, 117; the

Greek, 135; the Latin, 304.

Languages, origin and relationship of, 12; Aryan, 16; Semitic, 16, 83,

84; Turanian, 17.

Latin, language, 304; literature, 303-428.

Lavinius, 328.

Lesches of Mytilene, 156.

Library, the Pergamene, 24, 274; the royal Persian, 67; the imperial

Chinese, 83; the Hebrew, at Jerusalem, 104; the royal Assyrian, 110;

the Alexandrian, 272.

Licinianus, 428.

Literature, General View of Ancient, 25; Hindoo, 31-60; Persian, 60-67;

Chinese, 67-83; Hebrew, 83-104; Assyrio-Babylonian, 104-114; Arabic,

114; Phœnician, 115; Egyptian, 117-131; Grecian, 133-302; Roman,

303-428.

Livius Andronicus, 309.

Livy, 382.

Longinus, 294.

Longus, 295.

Lucan, 397.

Lucian, 288.

Lucilius, 323.

Lucretius, 348.

Lyceum, the, 248.

Lycophron, 280.

Lysias, 256.

Mahâbhârata, the, 43.

Manetho, 279.

Manilius, 382.

Manu, Code of, 38.

Marcellinus, 428.

Martial, 404.

Maximus, Valerius, 389.

Meleager, 280, 297, 300.

Menander, 264.

Mencius, 79.

Messala, 376, 386.

Micah, 97.

Mimnermus, 177.

Moschus, 269, 271.

Moses, 90.

Musæus, 138, 302.

Museum, the, 272.

Myrtis, 186.

Nævius, 310, 320.

Nahum, 97.

Nemesian, 422.

Neo-Platonism, 293.

Nepos, Cornelius, 347.

Nicander, 280.

Nonnus, 302.

Nossis, 280.

Odyssey, the, 147.

Oppian, 302.

Origen, 293.

Ovid, 379.

Pacuvius, 319.

Pânini, 57.

Papinian, 428.

Papyrus Ebers, 124.

Parallelism, 89.

Paterculus, Velleius, 389.

Pausanias, 292.

Pedianus, 428.

Pentateuch, 90.

Periander, 184.

Peripatetic School of Philosophy, 247.

Persian literature, 60-67.

Persius, 392.

Petronius Arbiter, 428.

Phædrus, 390.

Pherecydes of Syros, 179.

Philemon, 265.

Philo, 104, 293.

Phocylides, 177.

Phœnician literature, 115.

Phrynicus, 193.

Pilpay, 56.

Pindar, 185.

Pittacus, 164, 184.

Plato, 241.

Plautus, 312.

Pliny, the Elder, 401; the Younger, 418.

Plotinus, 293.

Plutarch, 284.

Pollio, Asinius, 386; Vitruvius, 387.

Polybius, 277.

Polycarp, 293.

Porphyry, 293.

Priscian, 428.

Prisse Papyrus, 124.

Probus, 408.

Procopius, 302.

Propertius, 377.

Proverbs, the, 96.

Prudentius Clemens, 428.

Psalms, the, 93.

Ptolemy, the astronomer, 292.

Purânas, 35.

Pyrrho, 238.

Pythagoras, 234.

Quintilian, 407.

Quintus Smyrnæus, 302.

Râmâyana, the, 40.

Rig-Veda, 34.

Rosetta Stone, 119.

Rufus, Valgius, 387.

Rutilius, the jurist, 328; the poet, 428.

Sakoontalâ, 50.

Sallust, 343.

Samuel, Books of, 92.

Saneha, Memoirs of, 124.

Sanscrit, language, 31; literature, 31-60.

Sappho, 165.

Scipio, 323, 326.

Semites, 16; languages of, 83, 84.

Seneca, the rhetorician, 386; the moralist, 394.

Septuagint, the, 104, 279.

Shoo, the Four, 77.

Silius Italicus, 408.

Simonides, 174; the Elder, 177.

Sisenna, 328.

Skeptics, the, 238.

Socrates, 239.

Solomon, 96,

Solon, 177, 179, 184.

Sophocles, 200.

Spartianus, 428.

Stasinus of Cyprus, 156.

Statius, 405.

Stesichorus, 178.

Stoic School of Philosophy, 253.

Strabo, 281.

Suetonius, 415.

Sulpicia, 406.

Susarion, 212.

Symmachus, 428.

Tacitus, 412.

Talmud, the, 100.

Terence, 315.

Terpander, 178.

Tertullian, 422.

Thales, 180, 184, 234.

Theocritus, 266.

Theognis, 177.

Theophrastus, 252.

Theopompus, 233.

Thespis, 192.

Thucydides, 225.

Tibullus, 375.

Timæus, 279.

Timocreon, 178.

Trogus, Pompeius, 386.

Tryphiodorus, 302.

Tubero, 387.

Turanians, 12; languages of, 17.

Turpilius, 328.

Tyrtæus, 160.

Ulpian, 428.

Varius, 375.

Varro, 337.

Veda, the, 34.

Virgil, 355-369.

Writing, ideographic, 18; phonetic, 19; among the Hindoos, 60; of the

Persians, 66; Chinese, 68; Hebrew, 86; Cuneiform, 104; Egyptian, 118;

Greek, 136, 156, 180, 262.

Xanthus, 184.

Xenophanes, 177, 237.

Xenophon, 229.

Zend, 67.

Zeno, 253.

Zenodotus, 277.

Zoroaster, 61-64.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A thousand words have thus been traced through the sister languages

of Aryan birth—a number certainly adequate to the wants of primitive

man, when we remember that of more than 120,000 words which constitute

our present vocabulary but 3,000 are in common use. The Old Testament

was translated with the help of only 5,642 English words. While

Shakespeare’s genius required 21,000 words for its expression, Milton’s

epic employs less than half that number.

[2] In common with the Celts, the North American Indians, Chinese,

Egyptians, and other ancient nations, cherished a tradition that they

had supplanted an original population—_the children of the soil_—of low

intellectual powers, feeders on roots, hole-dwellers, serpent-eaters.

[3] Some regard the Hindoo epics as belonging to a much later period.

It is probable that the present versions are essential modifications of

the original forms.

[4] The language of the Gypsies, descendants of those Hindoos who fled

from the persecutions of Tamerlane, is a corrupted Vedic dialect.

[5] “He is the only master of the world; he fills heaven and earth.

He gives life and strength: all the other gods seek for his blessing;

death and immortality are but his shadow.

The mountains covered with frost, the ocean with its waves, the vast

regions of heaven, proclaim his power.

By him the heaven and earth, space and the firmament, have been solidly

founded: he spread abroad the light in the atmosphere.

Heaven and earth tremble for fear before him. He is God above all gods!”

RIG-VEDA.

[6] The mystical name formed of the three elements A U M, representing

the three forms of the deity.

[7] _Nirvâna_—“a condition of total cessation of changes; of perfect

rest; of the absence of desire, and illusion, and sorrow; of the total

obliteration of everything that goes to make up the physical man.

Before reaching Nirvâna, man is constantly being re-born; when he

reaches Nirvâna, he is born no more.”—_Olcott’s “Buddhist Catechism,”

p. 32._

[8] We find one phase of this in the worship of ancestral tablets.

These are of wood, a foot high, and bear the name of the departed

ancestor, the hour of his birth, and that of his decease. They are

worshipped twice a month with tapers and burning incense. Death is

believed to liberate three spirits from the tenement of clay; while one

of these occupies the grave, and another seeks the invisible world,

the third is supposed to take up its habitation in the tablet erected

by filial reverence. The accompanying engraving shows one of these

ancestral tablets with its inscription in Chinese. (_Read Du Bose’s

“The Dragon, Image, and Demon.”_)

[9] The two Chinese philosophers remind us of the two Greeks, not only

by the moral tone of their teachings, but by their relative positions

as master and follower. Nor were their respective eras widely apart;

compare their dates—

The master, Confucius, 551-478 B.C.

The disciple, Mencius, 370-288 B.C.

The master, Socrates, 470-399 B.C.

The pupil, Plato, 429-348 B.C.

[10] Some hold that the Pentateuch was compiled by Moses from extant

writings of an earlier period; others believe it to have been reduced

to its present form at a much later date; while many theologians

ascribe it all to Moses, except the part that relates to his death and

a few interpolated sentences. Its authenticity as part of God’s Word

has been disputed from time to time, and particularly in these later

days; but neither Jews nor Christians doubt its inspiration, though

they admit that in parts its meaning may have been misconceived. We

have here to do with it, as with other parts of the Bible, simply as a

_literary_ work. (_See Rawlinson’s “Historical Illustrations of the Old

Testament.”_)

[11] For example, the Book of Jasher, which appears to have been a

collection of songs in praise of the just and upright—the subject of

endless discussions.

[12] The grammatical literature of the Assyrians is equalled only by

that of the Hindoos and the Greeks.

[13] The Greeks, erroneously believing these characters to have

been used by the priests alone, called them hieroglyphics (_sacred

carvings_).

[14] That is, _dead king Menkaurâ_; the deceased was identified with

Osiris, god of the dead.

[15] M. Prisse first published this papyrus in France; hence its name.

[16] Papyrus published by Ebers.

[17] What is known as the Book of the Dead, or Funeral Ritual, is not

a homogeneous whole which has descended to us as such from antiquity,

but a collection of all the funeral texts found in various tombs. The

dead man was believed to encounter various dangers in the lower world,

and hence it was of great importance that he should be thoroughly

instructed in advance. He had to know the magical names of all parts

of “the land of the dead,” of thousands of malignant and benignant

demons he would there meet. He must also be acquainted with the names

of the forty-two associate judges of Osiris who considered his claim to

admission into future joys, as well as with the proper confession to

make to each. The texts are partly descriptions of funeral ceremonies

and of various localities in the Lower Heaven, partly hymns and magical

formulæ for exorcising demons, and partly long speeches the dead man

must pronounce, with directions for making and inscribing amulets. Of

these texts, some were written on papyrus and placed in the tomb with

the mummy, others were inscribed on amulets and sarcophagi. In no one

tomb have all been found.

[18] Nothing is known of ancient Egyptian metres: but it is evident

that the poetry was characterized by parallelism analogous to that of

Hebrew verse.

[19] Unknown locality.

[20] Unknown locality.

[21]

“Septem urbes certant de stirpe insignis Homeri,—

Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenæ.”

For all places mentioned in the history of Grecian literature, see Map,

p. 132.

[22] In this category we do not mean to include our own Shakespeare;

Homer’s pedestal is no loftier than his.

[23] A city south-east of Troy, situated at the base of Mount Pla’cos,

and hence called Hypoplacian (_under Placos_).

[24] The ægis was Jupiter’s shield, which inspired fear, and caused

darkness, clouds, and storms.

[25] His mother, Priam’s wife, king of Troy.

[26] The following lines, with their long and short syllables

distinguished and arranged as in the dactylic hexameter and pentameter,

will give an idea of the cadence of the elegiac couplet:—

“Give mĕ sŏme | mŏre,” săys thĕ | mīsĕrlỹ | mān, thoŭgh ăs |

rīch ăs ă | Crœsūs;

Nēvĕr e|noūgh ĭn hĭs | stōre, || īf hĕ căn | gēt ănỹ | mōre.

[27] The Leucadian promontory projects from the southern shore of the

island of Leucadia, off the coast of Acarnania (see Map, p. 132). On

the bluff stood a temple of Apollo, to whom, in very ancient times,

human sacrifices were yearly offered, a victim being hurled from the

rock into the sea below. The priests sometimes took the place of

these unfortunates, but on such occasions carefully avoided danger by

fastening to their persons flocks of live birds, the flapping of whose

pinions during the descent broke their fall. This rite was gradually

modified; and at one time we find the leap from the cliff used as an

ordeal to test the guilt of suspected persons.

In Sappho’s day it was customary for those suffering the pangs of

unrequited affection to take the Lover’s Leap from the precipice,

after secretly uttering their vows in the sanctuary of the god. Some,

intent on suicide, were dashed to pieces on the rocks below or perished

in the waves; others took the precaution to buoy themselves up with

feathers or bladders, trusting to a plunge in the cold sea or the

bruises they might receive, to cure their passion. Queen Artemisia, of

Halicarnassus, lost her life in taking the Lover’s Leap, after putting

out the eyes of the youth who would not return her attachment; and one

case is recorded in which a man four times resorted to this perilous

remedy.—The modern Greek sailor still calls the promontory “the Lady’s

Cape.”

[28] From which he has been called “the Dircean Swan.”

[29] The true site of the deme of Icaria, the birthplace of the drama,

was discovered in eastern Attica in the spring of 1888, by Prof. A. C.

Merriam, of Columbia College.

[30] The Sea of Azof.

[31] The sacrificial flame, from which omens were taken.

[32] The riddle proposed by the Sphinx: “What animal is that which goes

on four feet in the morning, two at noon, and three at evening?” The

answer of Œdipus was, _Man_.

[33] _Hippos_ means a _horse_ in Greek; _pheidon_, _economical_.

[34] An epigram of later date thus accounted for their names:—

“The Muses to Herodotus one day came, nine of them, and dined;

And in return, their host to pay, left each a book behind.”

[35] Hence probably the origin of the proverb, “Amicus Plato, sed magis

amica veritas”—“_Plato is dear, but truth is dearer_.”

[36] The difference between reasoning by Deduction and by Induction may

be made clearer by the following examples:—

DEDUCTION.—Dogs are quadrupeds.

Tray is a dog.

Therefore, Tray is a quadruped.

INDUCTION.—Tray is a quadruped; Carlo is a quadruped; Fan is a

quadruped;

Pet is a quadruped; etc.

Tray, Carlo, Fan, Pet, etc., are dogs.

Therefore, _all_ dogs are quadrupeds.

[37] Second crop of grass.

[38] An allusion to the hostility of Æetes, Medea’s father, and his

fire-breathing bulls, which Jason was required to tame before he could

get possession of the Golden Fleece.

[39] An allusion to the fate of Empedocles himself; see p. 236.

[40] From _Saturn_, an ancient Italian god fabled to have instructed

the people in agriculture. The metre was accommodated to the rapid

beats of the foot in the country dances at harvest-time.

[41] From Fescennium, an Etruscan town.

[42] When the Roman audience heard this sentiment, they shook the

theatre with their applause.

[43] A Roman knight, Laberius, who had lost caste by appearing on the

stage, made a good hit at Cicero, for his political non-committalism.

As he was going to his place in the theatre one day, Cicero, who was

seated in the orchestra, called out to him, “Laberius, I would make

room for you, if we were not so crowded here.”—“You crowded!” answered

Laberius. “Why, how is that? you generally manage to sit on two stools.”

[44] Allusion is here made to Antony’s purchase of the goods of Pompey

the Great, at auction, after the defeat of the latter in the civil war.

[45] The last word of the play, which invites the applause of the

audience.

[46] Amphiara’us, whose wife betrayed him for a pearl necklace, and was

afterward murdered by her son.

[47] A consecrated ground in ancient Rome, on which it was unlawful to

build.

[48] An allusion to the change from the purple-bordered _toga_ of the

youth, to the _toga virilis_, or manly robe.

[49] Hadrian was for the most part a patron of literary men, and

himself spoke and wrote with eloquence. Pope’s paraphrase has made

familiar his verse addressed to his soul:—

“Ah! fleeting spirit! wandering fire,

That long hast warmed my tender breast,

Must thou no more this frame inspire,

No more a pleasing, cheerful guest?

Whither, ah! whither art thou flying?

To what dark undiscovered shore?

Thou seem’st all trembling, shivering, dying,

And wit and humor are no more.”

[50] The fifty daughters of Danaus, who stabbed their husbands on the

marriage-night.

[51] The wicked minister of the emperor Tiberius, who encouraged his

master in the most detestable vices. At length, having engaged in a

conspiracy with the view of usurping the empire, he was executed by

Tiberius. The fate of the bronze statues raised in his honor is related

by the poet.

[52] The Etruscan goddess of fortune.

[53] Tacitus shared the unjust prejudice current among the Romans.

[54] This was the first of the ten persecutions of the Christians.

[55] For these “Gems,” as well as those under Greek literature, we have

drawn to some extent on the collections of Ramage.