judiciously selected the persons whom he introduces as speakers. They were
men of eminence in the state; and though deceased, the Romans had such a
just veneration for their ancestors, that they would listen with the
utmost interest even to the supposed conversation of the ancient heroes or
sages of their country. Such illustrious names bestowed additional dignity
on what was delivered, and even now affect us with sentiments of
veneration far superior to that which is felt for the itinerant sophists,
who, with the exception of Socrates, are the chief speakers in the
dialogues of Plato.
The memorable and hereditary friendship which subsisted between Lælius and
the younger Scipio Africanus, rendered them the most suitable characters
from whom the sentiments expressed on this delightful topic could be
supposed to flow. Their mutual and unshaken attachment threw an additional
lustre over the military glory of the one, and the contemplative wisdom of
the other. “Such,” says Cicero in the introduction to the treatise _De
Republicâ_, “was the common law of friendship between them, that Lælius
adored Africanus as a god, on account of his transcendent military fame;
and that Scipio, when they were at home, revered his friend, who was older
than himself, as a father(456).” The kindred soul of Cicero appears to
have been deeply struck with this delightful assemblage of all the noblest
and loveliest qualities of our nature. The friendship which subsisted
between himself and Atticus was another beautiful example of a similar
kind: And the dialogue _De Amicitiâ_ is accordingly addressed with
peculiar propriety to Atticus, who, as Cicero tells him in his dedication,
could not fail to discover his own portrait in the delineation of a
perfect friend. This treatise approaches nearer to dialogue than that _De
Senectute_, for there is a story, with the circumstances of time and
place. Fannius, the historian, and Mucius Scævola, the Augur, both
sons-in-law of Lælius, paid him a visit immediately after the sudden and
suspicious death of Scipio Africanus. The recent loss which Lælius had
thus sustained, leads to an eulogy on the inimitable virtues of the
departed hero, and to a discussion on the true nature of that tie by which
they had been so long connected. Cicero, while in his earliest youth, had
been introduced by his father to Mucius Scævola; and hence, among other
interesting matters which he enjoyed an opportunity of hearing, he was one
day present while Scævola related the substance of the conference on
Friendship, which he and Fannius had held with Lælius a few days after the
death of Scipio. Many of the ideas and sentiments which the mild Lælius
then uttered, are declared by Scævola to have originally flowed from
Scipio, with whom the nature and laws of friendship formed a favourite
topic of discourse. This, perhaps, is not entirely a fiction, or merely
told to give the stamp of authenticity to the dialogue. Some such
conversation was probably held and related; and I doubt not, that a few of
the passages in this celebrated dialogue reflect the sentiments of Lælius,
or even of Africanus himself.
The philosophical works of Cicero, which have been hitherto enumerated,
are complete, or nearly so. But it is well known that he was the author of
many other productions which have now been entirely lost, or of which only
fragments remain.
Of these, the most important was the Treatise _De Republicâ_, which, in
the general wreck of learning, shared the fate of the institutions it was
intended to celebrate. The greater part of this dialogue having
disappeared along with the _Origines_ of Cato, the works of Varro, and the
History of Sallust, we have been deprived of all the writings which would
have thrown the most light on the Roman institutions, manners, and
government—of everything, in short, which philosophically traced the
progress of Rome, from its original barbarism to the perfection which it
had attained in the age of the second Scipio Africanus.
There are few monuments of ancient literature, of which the disappearance
had excited more regret, than that of the work _De Republicâ_, which was
long believed to have been the grand repository of all the political
wisdom of the ancients. The great importance of the subject—treated, too,
by a writer at once distinguished by his genius and former official
dignity; the pride and predilection with which the author himself speaks
of it, and the sublimity and beauty of the fragment entitled _Somnium
Scipionis_, preserved from it by Macrobius, all concurred to exalt this
treatise in the imagination of the learned, and to exasperate their
vexation at its loss. The fathers of the church, particularly Lactantius,
had afforded some insight into the arguments employed in it on different
topics; several fragments existed in the works of the grammarians, and a
complete copy was extant as late as the 11th century. Since that time the
literary world have been flattered at different periods with hopes of its
discovery; but it is only within the last few years that such a portion of
it has been recovered, as may suffice, in a considerable degree, to
satisfy curiosity, though not perhaps to fulfil expectation.
It is well known to many, and will be mentioned more fully in the
_Appendix_, that owing to a scarcity of papyrus and parchment, it was
customary, at different times, to erase old, in order to admit new,
writing. To a MS. of this kind, the name of Palimpsest has been given—a
term made use of by Cicero himself. In a letter to the lawyer Trebatius,
who had written to him on such a sheet, Cicero says, “that while he must
praise him for his parsimony in employing a palimpsest, he cannot but
wonder what he had erased to scribble such a letter, except it were his
law notes: For I cannot think,” adds he, “that you would efface my letter
to substitute your own(457).” This practice became very common in the
middle ages, when both the papyrus and parchment were scarce, and when the
classics were, with few exceptions, no longer the objects of interest.
Montfaucon had remarked, that these obliterated MSS. were perhaps more
numerous than those which had been written on for the first time(458). But
though in some cases the original writing was still visible on close
observation, no practical use was made of such inspection till Angelo Mai
published some fragments recovered from palimpsest MSS. in the Ambrosian
library, of which he was keeper. Encouraged by his success, he persevered
in this new pursuit, and published at intervals fragments of considerable
value. At length, being called to Rome as a recompense for his learned
labours, Mai prosecuted in the Vatican those noble researches which he had
commenced at Milan; and it is to him we now owe the discovery and
publication of a considerable portion of Cicero _De Republicâ_, which had
been expunged, (it is supposed in the 6th century,) and crossed by a new
writing, which contained a commentary by St Augustine on the Psalms(459).
The work _De Republicâ_ was begun by Cicero in the month of May, in the
year 699, when the author was in the fifty-second year of his age, so
that, of all his philosophical writings, it was at least the earliest
commenced. In a letter to his brother Quintus, he tells him that he had
employed himself in his Cuman and Pompeian villas, in writing a large and
laborious political work; that, should it succeed to his mind, it would be
well, but, if not, he would cast it into that sea which was in view when
he wrote it; and, as it was impossible for him to be idle, commence some
other undertaking(460). He had proceeded, however, but a little way, when
he repeatedly changed the whole plan of the work; and it is curious to
perceive, that an author of so perfect a genius as Cicero, had similar
advices from friends, and the same discouragement, and doubts, and
irresolution, which agitate inferior writers.
When he had finished the first and second books, they were read to some of
his friends at his Tusculan villa. Sallust, who was one of the company
present, advised him to change his plan, and to treat the subject in his
own person—alleging that the introduction of those ancient philosophers
and statesmen, to whom Cicero had assigned parts in the dialogue, instead
of adding gravity, gave a fictitious air to the argument, which would have
greater weight if delivered from Cicero himself, as being the work, not of
a sophist or contemplative theorist, but of a consular senator and
statesman, conversant in the greatest affairs, and writing only what his
own experience had taught him to be true. These reasons seemed to Cicero
very plausible, and for some time made him think of altering his plan,
especially since, by placing the scene of the dialogue so far back, he had
precluded himself from touching on those important revolutions in the
Republic, which were later than the period to which he had confined
himself. But after some deliberation, feeling reluctant to throw away the
two books which were already finished, and with which he was much pleased,
he resolved to adhere to his original plan(461). And as he had preferred
it from the first, for the sake of avoiding offence, so he pursued it
without any other alteration than that he now limited to six what he had
before proposed to extend to nine books. These six were made public
previously to his departure for the government of Cilicia. While there, he
received the epistolary congratulations of his friends on their
success(462), and in his answers he discloses all the delight of a
gratified and successful author(463).
Mai discusses at considerable length the question, To whom the treatise
_De Republicâ_ was dedicated. The beginning of the proœmium to the first
book, which might have determined this point, is lost; but the author
says, “Disputatio repetenda memoriâ est, quæ mihi, _tibique quondam
adolescentulo_, est a P. Rutilio Rufo, Zmyrnæ cùm simul essemus, complures
dies exposita.” Cicero was at Smyrna in the twenty-ninth year of his age,
and it is evident that his companion, to whom this treatise is dedicated,
was younger than himself, as he says, “Mihi, _tibique_ quondam
_adolescentulo_.” Atticus was two years older than Cicero, and therefore
could not be the person. In fact, there is every reason to suppose that
the treatise _De Republicâ_ was dedicated to its author’s younger brother
Quintus, who, as we know from the proœmium of the last book, _De Finibus_,
was with Cicero at Athens during the voyage, in the course of which he
touched at Smyrna—who probably attended him to Asia,—and whose age suited
the expression “mihi, tibique adolescentulo.” Add to this, that Cicero,
when he mentions to his brother, (in the passage of the letter above
referred to,) that he meant to alter the plan of his work, says, “Nunc
loquar ipse _tecum_, et tamen illa quæ institueram ad te, si Romam venero,
mittam(464).” The work in its first concoction, therefore, was addressed
to Quintus, and, as the author, after some hesitation, published it nearly
in its original form, it can scarcely be doubted that it was still
dedicated to his brother.
The first book _De Republicâ_, which was one of those read by Cicero to
Sallust and some other friends, in his Tusculan villa, is, as already
mentioned, imperfect at the commencement. Not much, however, seems to be
wanting, and a prologue of considerable length still remains, in which the
author (pleading, perhaps, his own cause) combats the opinions of
philosophers, who, preferring a contemplative to an active life, blame
those who engage in public affairs. To the former he opposes the example
of many wise and great men, and answers those objections to a busy
political life, which have been repeatedly urged against it. This prologue
contains some good reasoning, and, like all the writings of its
illustrious author, displays a noble patriotic feeling. He remarks, that
he had entered into this discussion as introductory to a book concerning
the republic, since it seemed proper, as prefatory to such a work, to
combat the sentiments of those who deny that a philosopher should be a
statesman. “As to the work itself,” says he, addressing (as I have
supposed) his brother, “I shall lay down nothing new or peculiar to
myself, but shall repeat a discussion which once took place among the most
illustrious men of their age, and the wisest of our state, such as it was
related to myself, and to you when a youth, by P. Rutilius Rufus, when we
were with him some days at Smyrna—in which discussion nothing of
importance to the right constitution of a commonwealth, appears to have
been omitted.”
The author then proceeds to mention, that during the consulship of
Tuditanus and Aquilius, (as he had heard from Rufus,) the younger Scipio
Africanus determined to pass the Latin festivals (Latinæ Feriæ) in his
gardens, where some of his most intimate friends had promised to visit
him. The first of these who makes his appearance is his nephew, Quintus
Tubero, a person devoted to the Stoical philosophy, and noted for the
austerity of his manners. A remark which Tubero makes about two suns, a
prodigy which, it seems, had lately appeared in the heavens, leads Scipio
to praise Socrates for his abandonment of physical pursuits, as neither
very useful to man, nor capable of being thoroughly investigated—a
sentiment (by the way) which, with all due submission to the Greek
philosopher, does little credit to his sagacity, as physical inquiries
have been not only highly useful to mankind, but are almost the only
subjects in which accurate science has been attained. Furius, Philus, and
Rutilius, who is stated to have related the discussion to Cicero, now
enter, and, at last, comes Lælius, attended by his friend, Spurius
Mummius, (brother to the well-known connoisseur in the fine arts who took
Corinth,) and by his two sons-in-law, C. Fannius and Q. Scævola. After
saluting them, Scipio, as it was now winter, takes them to a sunny spot,
in a meadow, and in proceeding thither the party is joined by M. Manilius.
“In this choice of his principal speakers, Cicero,” as has been well
remarked, “was extremely judicious and happy. It was necessary that the
persons selected should have been distinguished both as statesmen and as
scholars, in order that a philosophical discussion might appear consistent
with their known characters, and that a high political reputation might
give authority to their remarks on government. Scipio and Lælius united
both these requisites in a remarkable degree. They were among the earliest
of the Romans who added the graces of Grecian taste and learning to the
manly virtues of their own ruder country. These accomplishments had
refined and polished their characters, without at all detracting from
their force and purity. The very name of the Scipios, the _duo fulmina
belli_, was the symbol of military talent, patriotism, and magnanimity:
Lælius was somewhat less distinguished in active life; but enjoyed, on the
other hand, a still higher reputation for contemplative wisdom(465).”
After the party had been all seated, the subject of the two suns is
resumed; and Lælius, while he remarks that they had enough to occupy
attention in matters more at hand, adds, that since they were at present
idle, he for his part, had no objection to hear Philus, who was fond of
astronomical pursuits, on the subject. Philus, thus encouraged, proceeds
to give an account of a kind of Orrery, which had been formed by
Archimedes, and having been brought to Rome by Marcellus, its structure,
as well as uses, had on one occasion, when Philus was present, been
explained by C. Sulpicius Gallus. The application of this explanation to
the phenomenon of the two suns is lost, as a _hiatus_ of eight pages here
occurs in the palimpsest. Probably, the solution of the problem would not,
if extant, make a great figure in the _Philosophical Transactions_. But
one cannot fail to admire the discursive and active genius of Cicero, who
considered all knowledge as an object deserving ardent pursuit(466).
At the end of the _hiatus_, we find Scipio, in reference to Gallus’s
astronomical knowledge, which had been celebrated by Philus, relating,
that when his father, Paulus Æmilius, commanded in Macedonia, the army
being terrified by an eclipse, Gallus had calmed their fears by explaining
the phænomenon—an anecdote, which, with another similar to it here told of
Pericles, proves the value of physical pursuits, and their intimate
connection with the affairs of life. This inference seems to have been
drawn in a passage which is lost; and several beautiful sentiments follow,
similar to some of those in the _Somnium Scipionis_, on the calm exquisite
delights of meditation and science, and on the littleness of all earthly
things, when compared with immortality or the universe. “Quid porro,” says
Scipio, in the most elevated tone of moral and intellectual grandeur—“quid
porro aut præclarum putet in rebus humanis, qui hæc deorum regna
perspexerit? aut diuturnum, qui cognoverit quid sit æternum? aut
gloriosum, qui viderit quàm parva sit terra, primum universa, deinde ea
pars ejus quam homines incolant, quamque nos in exiguâ ejus parte adfixi,
plurimis ignotissimi gentibus, speremus tamen nostrum nomen volitare et
vagari latissime? Agros, vero, et ædificia, et pecudes, et immensum
argenti pondus atque auri, qui bona nec putare nec appellare soleat, quod
earum rerum videatur ei, levis fructus, exiguus usus, incertus dominatus,
sæpe etiam teterrimorum hominum immensa possessio. Quàm est hic fortunatus
putandus, cui soli vere liceat omnia non Quiritium sed sapientium jure pro
suis vindicare! nec civili nexo, sed communi lege naturæ, quæ vetat ullam
rem esse cujusquam nisi ejus qui tractare et uti sciat: qui imperia
consulatusque nostros in necessariis non in expetendis rebus muneris
fungendi gratiâ subeundos, non præmiorum aut gloriæ causâ adpetendos
putet: qui denique ut Africanum avum meum scribit Cato solitum esse
dicere, possit idem de se prædicare, nunquam se plus agere, quàm nihil cùm
ageret; nunquam minus solum esse, quàm cùm solus esset.
“Quis enim putare vere potest plus egisse Dionysium tum cùm omnia moliendo
eripuerit civibus suis libertatem, quàm ejus civem Archimedem, cùm istam
ipsam Sphæram, nihil cùm agere videretur, effecerit? Quis autem non magis
solos esse qui in foro turbâque quicum conloqui libeat non habeant, quam
qui nullo arbitro vel secum ipsi loquantur, vel quasi doctissimorum
hominum in concilio adsint cùm eorum inventis scriptisque se oblectent?
Quis vero divitiorem quemquam putet, quàm eum cui nihil desit, quod quidem
natura desideret? aut potentiorem quàm illum, qui omnia quæ expetat,
consequatur? aut beatiorem quàm qui sit omni perturbatione animi
liberatus?”
Lælius, however, is no way moved by these sonorous arguments; and still
persists in affirming, that the most important of all studies are those
which relate to the _Republic_, and that it concerned them to inquire, not
why two suns had appeared in heaven, but why, in the present
circumstances, (alluding to the projects of the Gracchi,) there were two
senates, and almost two peoples. In this state of things, therefore, and
since they had now leisure, their fittest object would be to learn from
Scipio what he deemed the best condition of a commonwealth. Scipio
complies with this request, and begins with defining a republic; “Est
igitur respublica res populi—populus autem non omnis hominum cœtus quoquo
modo congregatus, sed cœtus multitudinis juris consensu.” In entering on
the nature of what he had thus defined, he remounts to the origin of
society, which he refers entirely to that social spirit which is one of
the principles of our nature, and not to hostility, or fear, or compact. A
people, when united, may be governed by _one_, by _several_, or by a
_multitude_, any one of which simple forms may be tolerable if well
administered, but they are liable to corruptions peculiar to themselves.
Of these three simple forms, Scipio prefers the monarchical; and for this
choice he gives his reasons, which are somewhat metaphysical and
analogical. But though he more approves of a pure regal government than of
the two other simple forms, he thinks that none of them are good, and that
a perfect constitution must be compounded of the three. “Quod cùm ita sit,
tribus primis generibus longe præstat, meâ sententiâ, regium; regio autem
ipsi præstabit id quod erit æquatum et temperatum ex tribus optimis rerum
publicarum modis. Placet enim esse quiddam in re publicâ præstans et
regale; esse aliud auctoritate principum partum ac tributum; esse quasdam
res servatas judicio voluntatique multitudinis. Hæc constitutio primum
habet æqualitatem quamdam magnam, quâ carere diutius vix possunt liberi;
deinde firmitudinem.”
In this panegyric on a mixed constitution, Cicero has taken his idea of a
perfect state from the Roman commonwealth—from its consuls, senate, and
popular assemblies. Accordingly, Scipio proceeds to affirm, that of all
constitutions which had ever existed, no one, either as to the
distribution of its parts or discipline, was so perfect as that which had
been established by their ancestors; and that, therefore, he will
constantly have his eye on it as a model in all that he means to say
concerning the best form of a state.
This explains what was the chief scope of Cicero in his work _De
Republica_—an eulogy on the Roman government, such as it was, or he
supposed it to have been, in the early ages of the commonwealth. In the
time of Cicero, when Rome was agitated by the plots of Catiline, and
factions of Clodius, with the proscriptions of Sylla but just terminated,
and the usurpation of Cæsar impending, the Roman constitution had become
as ideal as the polity of Plato; and in its best times had never reached
the perfection which Cicero attributes to it. But when a writer is
disgusted with the present, and fearful for the future, he is ever ready
to form an _Utopia_ of the past(467).
In the _second_ book, which, like the first, is imperfect at the
beginning, (though Mai seems to think that only a few words are wanting;)
Scipio records a saying of Cato the Censor, that the constitution of Rome
was superior to that of all other states, because _they_ had been modelled
by single legislators, as Crete by Minos, and Sparta by Lycurgus, whereas
the Roman commonwealth was the result of the gradually improved experience
and wisdom of ages. “To borrow, therefore,” says he, “a word from Cato, I
shall go back to the _origin_ of the Roman state; and show it in its
birth, childhood, youth, and maturity—a plan which seems preferable to the
delineation of an imaginary republic like that of Plato.”