CICERO NO HISTORIAN—HIS ORATORICAL STYLE DEFENDED—ITS PRINCIPAL
CHARM—OBSERVATIONS ON HIS FORENSIC ORATION—HIS ORATORY ESSENTIALLY
JUDICIAL—POLITICAL ORATIONS—RHETORICAL TREATISES—THE OBJECT OF HIS
PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS—CHARACTERISTICS OF ROMAN PHILOSOPHICAL
LITERATURE—PHILOSOPHY OF CICERO—HIS POLITICAL WORKS—LETTERS—HIS
CORRESPONDENTS—VARRO.
Such were the life and character of Cicero. The place which he occupies
in a history of Roman literature is that of an orator and philosopher.
It has been already stated that he had some taste for poetry: in fact,
without imagination he could scarcely have been so eminent as an orator;
but though the power which he wielded over prose was irresistible, he
had not fancy enough to give a poetical character to the language.
Nor had he, notwithstanding the versatility of his talents, any taste
for historical investigation. He delighted to read the Greek historians,
for the same purpose for which he studied the Attic orators, merely as
an instrument of intellectual cultivation; but he was ignorant of Roman
history, because he took no interest in original research. His
countrymen[810] expected from him an historical work, but he was unfit
for the task. It is plain from his “_Republic_,” how little he knew as
an antiquarian.
The greatest praise of an orator’s style is to say that he was
successful. The end and object of oratory is to convince and persuade—to
rivet the attention of the hearer, and to gain a mastery over the minds
of men. If, therefore, any who study the speeches of Cicero in the
closet find faults in his style, they must remember the very faults
themselves were suited to the object which he was carrying into
execution. During the process of raising the public taste to the highest
standard, he carried his hearers with him: he was not too much in
advance; he did not aim his shafts too high; they hit the head and
heart. Senate, judges, people understood his arguments, and felt his
passionate appeals. Compared with the dignified energy and majestic
vigour of the Athenian orator, the Asiatic exuberance of some of his
orations may be fatiguing to the sober and chastened taste of the modern
classical scholar; but in order to form a just appreciation, he must
transport himself mentally to the excitements of the thronged Forum—to
the senate composed, not of aged, venerable men, but statesmen and
warriors in the prime of life, maddened with the party spirit of
revolutionary times—to the presence of the jury of _judices_, as
numerous as a deliberative assembly, whose office was not merely calmly
to give their verdict of guilty or not guilty, but who were invested as
representatives of the sovereign people with the prerogative of
pardoning or condemning.
Viewed in this light, his most florid passages will appear free from
affectation—the natural flow of a speaker carried away with the torrent
of his enthusiasm. The melodious rise and fall of his periods are not
the result of studied effect, but of a true and musical ear.
Undoubtedly, amongst his earlier orations, are to be found passages
somewhat too declamatory and inconsistent with the principles which he
afterwards laid down when his taste was more matured, and when he
undertook to write scientifically on the theory of eloquence. Nor must
it be concealed that some of the staid and stern Romans of his own days
were daring enough, notwithstanding his popularity and success, to find
the same fault with him. “Suorum temporum homines,” says Quintilian,
“incessere audebant eum ut tumidiorem et Asianum[811] et redundantem et
in repetitionibus nimium et in salibus aliquando frigidum et in
compositione fractum et exsultantem et pene viro molliorem.”
But it is not only the brilliance and variety of expression, and the
finely-modulated periods, which constituted the principal charm of
Ciceronian oratory, and rendered it so effective. Its effectiveness was
mainly owing to the great orator’s knowledge of the human heart, and of
the national peculiarities of his countrymen. Its charm was owing to his
extensive acquaintance with the stores of literature and philosophy,
which his sprightly wit moulded at will, to the varied learning which
his unpedantic mind made so pleasant and popular, to his fund of
illustration at once interesting and convincing. Even if his knowledge,
because it spread over so wide a surface, was superficial, in this case
profoundness was unnecessary.
In a work like the present it is only possible to devote a few brief
observations to the most important of his numerous orations, in which,
according to the criticism of Quintilian, he combined the force of
Demosthenes, the copiousness of Plato, and the elegance of Isocrates.
Knowledge of law, far superior to that possessed by the great orators of
the day,[812] distinguishes his earliest extant oration, the defence of
P. Quinctius.[813] Hortensius was the defendant’s counsel. Nævius, the
defendant, who had unjustly possessed himself of the property of the
plaintiff’s deceased brother, was a deserter from the Marians, and
therefore a protégé of Sylla; but, notwithstanding these disadvantages,
Cicero gained his cause. In the masterly defence of S. Roscius,[814]
Cicero again defied Sulla. His client was accused of parricide: there
was not a shadow of proof, and Cicero saved the life of an innocent man.
The noble enthusiasm with which he inveighs against tyranny in this
oration strikingly contrasts with the language, full of sweetness, in
which he describes Roman rural life. The passage on parricide was too
glowing and Asiatic for the taste of his maturer years, and he did not
hesitate to make it the subject of severe criticism.[815] Passing over
speeches of less interest, we come to the six celebrated Verrian
orations. Of these _chefs-d’œuvre_ the first only was delivered.[816]
The others were merely published; for the voluntary exile of the
criminal rendered further pleading unnecessary. The first is entitled
“_Divinatio_,” _i. e._, an inquiry as to who should have the right of
prosecuting: Cæcilius, who had been quæstor to the accused, claimed this
privilege, wishing to make the suit a friendly one, and thus quash the
proceedings. Nothing can surpass the ironical and sarcastic exposure of
this fraudulent attempt to defeat the ends of justice. The noble
passages in the succeeding orations of the series are well known; the
sketch of the wicked proconsul’s antecedent career; the graceful eulogy
of that province, in the welfare of which Cicero himself felt so warm an
interest; the tasteful description of the statues and antiquities which
tempted the more than Roman cupidity of Verres; the interesting history
of ancient art which accompanies it; the burst of pathetic indignation
with which he paints the horrible tortures to which not only the
provincials, but even Roman citizens, were exposed. Transports of joy
pervaded the whole of Sicily at Cicero’s success; and the Sicilians
caused a medal to be struck with this inscription—“PROSTRATO VERRE
TRINACRIA.” The oration for Fonteius[817] is a skilful defence of an
unpopular governor; that in defence of Cluentius[818] is one of the most
remarkable _causes célèbres_ of antiquity; and the complicated scene of
villany which Cicero’s forcible and soul-harrowing language paints,
makes one shudder with horror, whilst we are struck with admiration at
the clearness of intellect with which he unravels the web of guilt woven
by Oppianicus and Sassia. This remarkable oration has been analyzed by
Dr. Blair.[819]
Again, passing over other forensic orations, we come to that on which he
had evidently expended all his resources of art, taste, and skill—the
speech for the poet Archias.[820] If possible it is even too elaborate
and polished for so graceful a theme. Although the object of the
advocate was simply to establish the right of his client to Roman
citizenship, the genius of the poet of Antioch furnished an opportunity
not to be neglected for digressing into the fields of literature, and
for pronouncing a truly academical eulogium on poetry. It is
satisfactory to the admirers of Cicero to find that the attack which has
been made on the genuineness of this pleasing oration is groundless and
unwarrantable.[821]
The oration _pro Cælio_[822] is the most entertaining in the whole
collection. It contains a rich fund of anecdote, seasoned with witty
observations; a knowledge of human nature illustrated in a piquant and
humorous style, expressed in a tone of most gentlemanlike yet playful
eloquence, and interspersed with passages of great beauty. It presents a
marked contrast to the coarse personal abuse which defaces the otherwise
powerful invective against L. Piso, which was delivered in the following
year.[823]
The list, though many more marvellous specimens are omitted, must be
closed with the oration in defence of T. Annius Milo. On this occasion
Cicero lost his wonted self-possession. When the court opened, Pompey
was presiding on the bench, and he had caused the Forum to be occupied
with soldiers. The sight, added, perhaps, to the consciousness that he
was advocating a bad cause, struck Cicero with alarm; his voice
trembled, his tongue refused to give utterance to the conceptions which
he had formed. The judges were unmoved; and Milo remained in his
self-imposed exile at Marseilles. When Cicero left the court his courage
and calmness returned. He penned the oration which is now extant. He had
little or no proof or evidence to offer, and therefore, as an
argumentative work, it is unconvincing; but for force, pathos, and the
externals of eloquence, it deserves to be reckoned amongst his most
wonderful efforts. When the exiled Milo read it, he is said to have
exclaimed, “O, Cicero, if you had pleaded so, I should not be eating
such capital fish here!” The author himself and his contemporaries
thought this his finest oration; probably its deficiencies were
concealed by its eloquence and ingenuity. It appears that the oration
which he actually delivered was taken down in writing by reporters, and
was extant in the time of Asconius Pedianus, the most ancient
commentator on Cicero’s orations.[824] Its feebleness proved the
correctness of the judgment of antiquity.
The oratory of Cicero was essentially judicial: he was himself conscious
that his talents lay in that direction, and he saw that in that field
was the best opportunity for displaying oratorical power. Even his
political orations are rather judicial than deliberative. He was not
born for a politician. He possessed not that analytical character of
mind which penetrates into the remote causes of human action, nor the
synthetical power which enables a man to follow them out to their
farthest consequences; he had not that comprehensive grasp of mind which
can dismiss at once all points of minor importance and useless
speculation, and, seizing all the salient points, can bring them to bear
together upon questions of practical expediency. Of the three qualities
necessary for a statesman he possessed only two, honesty and patriotism:
he had not political wisdom.
Hence, in the finest specimens of his political harangues, his
Catilinarians and Philippics, and that in support of the Manilian law,
we look in vain for the calm, practical weighing of the subject which is
necessary in addressing a deliberative assembly. This was not the habit
of his mind. He was only lashed to action by circumstances of great
emergency; but even then he is still an advocate—all is excitement,
personal feeling, and party spirit: he deals in invective and panegyric,
and the denunciation of the enemies of his country; and the parts which
especially call forth our admiration differ in nothing from those which
we admire in his judicial orations. Nevertheless, so irresistible was
the influence which he exercised upon the minds of his hearers, that all
his political speeches were triumphs. His panegyric on Pompey,[825] in
the speech for the Manilian law, carried his appointment as
commander-in-chief of the armies of the East. The consequence of the
oration _de Provinciis Consularibus_ continued to Cæsar his
administration of Gaul. He crushed in Catiline one of the most
formidable traitors that had ever menaced the safety of the republic.
Antony’s fall followed the complete exposure of his debauchery in
private life, and the factiousness of his public career.[826]
Of the Catilinarians, the first and fourth were delivered in the senate,
the second and third in the presence of the people. Every one knows the
burst of indignation which the consul, rising in his place, aims at the
audacious conspirator who dared to pollute with his presence the temple
of the deity, and the most august assembly of the Roman people. In less
than twenty-four hours Catiline had left Rome, and the conspiracy had
become a war. In four words Cicero announced this to the assembled
Romans the day after he had addressed the senate. The third is a piece
of self-complacent but pardonable egotism. Success has overwhelmed
him—he sees that all eyes are turned upon himself—he is the hero of his
own story; still he demands no reward but the approbation of his
fellow-citizens, and reminds them that to the gods alone their gratitude
is due.
Two days pass away, and after Cæsar and Cicero had spoken, Cicero again
addresses the senate, and recommends that measure which was the
beginning of his troubles, the condemnation of the conspirators. The
zeal of the senate made the act their own, but Cicero paid the penalty.
The position which Cicero occupies on this occasion invests his speech
with more dignity than is displayed in any of the preceding. He is the
chief magistrate of the republic, performing the duty of pronouncing a
capital sentence on the guilty. The excitement of the crisis is
subsiding; and he has the more composure, because he knows that he
carries with him the sympathies of the senate and people.
The Philippics, so named after the orations of Demosthenes, are fourteen
in number. Cicero commenced his attack[827] upon the object of his
implacable hatred with a defence of the laws of Cæsar, which Antony
wished to repeal. He followed it up with the celebrated second oration,
in which he demolished the character of Antony; a speech which Juvenal
pronounced to be his _chef-d’œuvre_, but which Niebuhr thought was
undeserving of being so highly exalted. He delivered the remaining
twelve in the course of the succeeding year; they were the last
monuments of his eloquence; he never spoke again. The fourteenth is a
brilliant panegyric, but nothing more; the gallant army of Octavius
received their deserved applause; but in this political crisis the
orator could not discern or even catch a glimpse of the future destinies
of his country.
In his rhetorical works, Cicero left a legacy of practical instruction
to posterity. The treatise “_De Inventione_,” although it displays
genius, is merely interesting as the juvenile production of a future
great man; and the author himself alludes to it as a rude and unfinished
production.[828] Of the Rhetorical Hand-Book, in four sections,
addressed to Herennius, it is unnecessary to speak, as it is now
universally pronounced spurious.[829] The _De Oratore_, _Brutus sive de
claris Oratoribus_, and _Orator ad M. Brutum_,[830] are the result of
his matured experience. They form together one series; the principles
are first laid down; their developments are carried out and illustrated;
and lastly, in the _Orator_, he places before the eyes of Brutus the
model of ideal perfection. In his treatment of this subject, he shows a
mind imbued with the spirit of Plato: he invests it with dramatic
interest, and transports the reader into the scene which he so
graphically describes. The conversation contained in the first of these
works has been already described. The scene of the second is laid on the
lawn of Cicero’s palace at Rome: Cicero, Atticus and M. Brutus are the
_dramatis personæ_; and their taste receives inspiration from a statue
of Plato which adorns the garden. In the third, Cicero himself, at the
request of M. Brutus, paints, as Plato would have done, the portrait of
a faultless orator.
Three more short treatises must be added—(1.) The dialogue, _De
Partitione Oratoria_,[831] an elementary book, written for his son. (2.)
The _De Optimo Genere Oratorum_,[832] a short preface to a translation
of the Greek oration, _De Corona_. (3.) The _Topica_,[833] _i. e._, a
treatise on the commonplaces of judicial oratory.
PHILOSOPHY OF CICERO.
Cicero somewhat arrogantly claims the credit of being the first to
awaken a taste for philosophy, and to illuminate the darkness in which
it lay hid by the light of Roman letters.[834] He did not confess the
obligations under which he lay to his predecessors, because he never
could forget that he was an orator.[835] He could not deny that some of
them thought justly; but he denied that they possessed the power of
expressing what they thought. He felt that there was nothing in the
philosophical writings already existing to tempt his countrymen to study
the subject: they were dry, unadorned, unpolished. It required an orator
to array philosophy in an enticing garb. He proposed, therefore, to
assuage his anxieties—to seek repose from the harassing cares of
politics[836]—by rendering his countrymen independent of Greek
philosophical literature.
This was all he proposed to himself: it was all that his predecessor had
attempted; nor did he pretend to originality. The periods which he
devoted to the task, and to which all philosophical works belong, were
those during which he was excluded from political life. The first of
these was the triumvirate of Cæsar, Pompey, and Crassus; the second was
coincident with the dictatorship of Cæsar and the consulship of Antony.
Not only did his contemplative spirit delight in such studies, but,
whilst all the avenues to distinction were closed against him, his
ambition sought this road to fame, and his patriotism urged him to take
this method of benefiting his country. But as he was not the first who
introduced philosophy to the Romans, it will be necessary briefly to
sketch its progress up to the time at which his labours commenced.
Roman philosophy was neither the result of original investigation nor
the gradual development of the Greek system. It arose rather from a
study of ancient philosophical literature than from an examination of
philosophical principles. The Roman intellect did not possess the power
of abstraction in a sufficiently high degree for research, nor was the
Latin language capable of representing satisfactorily abstract thoughts.
Cicero was quite aware of the poverty of its scientific nomenclature, as
compared with that of Greece. In one treatise,[837] he writes,—“Equidem
soleo etiam, quod uno Græci, si aliter non possum, idem pluribus verbis
exprimere.” Pliny[838] and Seneca[839] assert the same fact. “Magis
damnabis,” writes the latter, “angustias Romanas si scieris unam
syllabam esse, quam mutare non possim. Quæ hæc sit quæris? το ον.” The
practical character also of the people prompted them to take advantage
of the material already furnished by others, and to select such
doctrines as it approved, without regard to their relation to each
other.
The Roman philosopher, therefore, or rather (to speak more correctly)
philosophical student, did not throw himself into the speculations of
his age, pursue them contemporaneously, or deduce from them fresh
results. He went back to the earlier ages of Greek philosophy, studied,
commented on, and explained the works of the best authors, and adopted
some of their doctrines as fixed scholastic dogmas. Consequently, the
spirit in which philosophical study was pursued by the Romans was a
literary and not a scientific one. A taste for literature had been
awakened, and philosophy was considered only as one species of
literature, although its importance was recognised as bearing upon the
practical duties, the highest interests and happiness of man. The
practical view which Cicero took of philosophy, and the extensive
influence which he attributed to it, is manifest from numerous passages
in his works,[840] and is imbodied in the following beautiful apostrophe
in the Tusculan Disputations:[841] “O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutis
indagatrix, expultrixque vitiorum! Quid non modo nos, sed omnino vita
hominum sine te esse potuisset? Tu urbes peperisti; tu dissipatos
homines in societatem vitæ convocasti; tu eos inter se primo domiciliis,
deinde conjugiis, tum literarum et vocum communione junxisti; tu
inventrix legum, tu magistra morum et disciplinæ fuisti; ad te
confugimus, a te opem petimus; tibi nos, ut antea magna ex parte, sic
nunc penitus totosque tradimus.”
It is plain, therefore, that the chief characteristics of Roman
philosophy would be—(1.) Learning, for it consisted in bringing together
doctrines and opinions scattered over a wide field; (2,) Generally
speaking, an ethical purpose and object, for Romans would be little
inclined to value any subject of study which had no ultimate reference
to man’s political and social relations; (3,) Eclecticism; for although
there were certain schools, such as the Epicurean and Stoic, which were
evidently favourites, the dogmas of different teachers were collected
and combined together often without regard to consistency.
The defects of such a system are fatal to its claim to be considered
philosophical; for the scientific connexion of its parts is lost sight
of, and results are presented independent of the chain of causes and
effects by which they are connected with principles. Such a system must
necessarily be illogical and inconsequential. Even the liberality which
adopts the principle, “Nullius jurare in verba magistri,” and which,
therefore, appears to be its chief merit, was absurd; and the
willingness with which all views were readily admitted led to
skepticism, or doubt whether such a thing as absolute truth had a real
existence.
Greek philosophy was probably first introduced into Rome by the Achæan
exiles, of whom Polybius was one.[842] The embassy of Carneades the
Academic, Diogenes the Stoic, and Critolaus the Peripatetic, followed
six years afterwards. In vain the stern M. Porcius Cato caused their
dismissal; for some of the most illustrious and accomplished Romans,
such as Africanus, Lælius, and Furius, had already profited by their
lectures and instructions.[843] Whilst the educated Romans were gaining
an historical insight into the doctrines of these schools, the Stoic
Panætius, who was entertained in the household of Scipio Africanus, was
unfolding the mysterious and transcendental doctrines of the great
object of his veneration, Plato. But although the Romans could
appreciate the majestic dignity and poetical beauty of his style, they
were not equal to the task of penetrating his hidden meaning; they were,
therefore, content to take upon trust the glosses and commentaries of
his expositors. These inclined to the New Academy rather than to the
Old: in its skeptical spirit they compared and balanced opposing
probabilities; and went no farther than recommending the adoption of
opinions upon which they could not pronounce with certainty. Neither did
the Peripatetic doctrines meet with much favour, although the works of
Aristotle had been brought to Rome by the dictator Sulla, partly, as
Cicero says, because of the vastness of the subjects treated, partly
because they seemed incapable of satisfactory proof to unskilled and
inexperienced minds.[844]
The philosophical system which first arrested the attention of the
Romans, and gained an influence over their minds, was the
Epicurean.[845] But it is somewhat remarkable that, although this
philosophy was in its general character ethical, a people so eminently
practical in their turn of mind should have especially devoted
themselves to the study of the physical speculations of this
school.[846] The only apparent exception to this statement is Catius,
but even his principal works, although he wrote one, “_de Summo Bono_,”
are on the physical nature of things.[847]
Cicero accounts for the popularity of Epicureanism by saying that it was
easy—that it appealed to the blandishments of pleasure; and that its
first professors, Amafanius and Rabirius, used none of the refinements
of art or subtleties or dialectic, but clothed their discussions in a
homely and popular style, suited to the simple and unlearned. There were
many successors to Amafanius; and the doctrines which they taught
rapidly spread over the whole of Italy. Many illustrious statesmen,
also, were amongst the believers in this fashionable creed; of whom the
best known are C. Cassius, the fellow-conspirator of Brutus, and T.
Pomponius Atticus, the friend of Cicero. All the monuments and records,
however, of the Epicurean philosophy, which were published in Latin,
have perished, with the exception of the immortal work of T. Lucretius
Carus, “De Naturâ Rerum.”
Nor was Stoicism, the severe principles of which were in harmony with
the stern old Roman virtues, without distinguished disciples; such as
were the unflinching M. Brutus, the learned Terentius Varro, the jurist
Scævola, the unbending Cato of Utica, and the magnificent Lucullus—a
Stoic in creed, though not in life and conduct. The part which Cicero’s
character qualified him to perform in the philosophical instruction of
his countrymen was scarcely that of a guide: he could give them a lively
interest in the subject, and reveal to them the discoveries and
speculations of others, but he could not mould and form their belief,
and train them in the work of original investigation. Not being himself
devoutly attached to any system of philosophical belief, he would be
cautious of offending the philosophical prejudices of others. He loved
learning, but his temper was undecided and vacillating: whilst,
therefore, he delighted in accumulating stores of Greek erudition, the
tendency of his mind was, in the midst of a variety of inconsistent
doctrines, to leave the conclusion undetermined. Although he listened to
various instructors—Phædrus the Epicurean, Diodotus the Stoic, and Philo
the Academician—he found the eclecticism of the latter more congenial to
his taste. Its preference of probability to certainty suited one who
shrunk from the responsibility of deciding.
It is this personality, as it were, which gives a special interest to
the Ciceronian philosophy. The reflexion of his personal character which
pervades it rescues it from the imputation of being a mere transcript of
his Greek originals. Cicero brings everything as much as possible to a
practical standard. If the question arises between the study of morals
and politics and that of physics or metaphysics, he decides in favour of
the former, on the grounds that the latter transcends the capacities of
the human intellect;[848] that in morals and politics we are under
obligations from which in physics we are free; that we are bound to tear
ourselves from these abstract studies at the call of duty to our country
or our fellow-creatures, even if we were able to count the stars or
measure the magnitude of the universe.[849] In the didactic method which
he pursues he bears in mind that he is dealing not with contemplative
philosophers, or minds that have been logically trained, but with
statesmen and men of the world; he does not therefore claim too much, or
make his lessons too hard, and is always ready to sacrifice scientific
system to a method of popular instruction. His object seems to be to
recommend the subject—to smoothe difficulties, and illustrate
obscurities. He evidently admires the exalted purity of Stoical
morality; and the principles of that sect are those which he endeavours
to impress upon his son.[850] His only fear is that their system is
impracticable.[851]
Cicero believed in the existence of one supreme Creator and Governor of
the universe, and also in His spiritual nature;[852] but his belief is
rather the result of instinctive conviction, than of the proofs derived
from philosophy; for as to them, he is, as on other points, uncertain
and wavering. He disbelieved the popular mythical religion; but,
uncertain as to what was the truth, he would not have that disturbed
which he looked upon as a political engine.[853] Amidst the doubtful and
conflicting reasons, respecting the human soul and man’s eternal
destiny, there is no doubt that, although he finds no satisfactory
proof, he is a believer in immortality.[854] It is unnecessary to pursue
the subject of his philosophical creed any further, because it is not a
system, but only a collection of precepts, not of investigations. Its
materials are borrowed, its illustrations alone novel. But,
nevertheless, the study of Cicero’s philosophical works is invaluable,
in order to understand the minds of those who came after him. It must
not be forgotten, that not only all Roman philosophy after his time, but
a great part of that of the middle ages, was Greek philosophy filtered
through Latin, and mainly founded on that of Cicero. Cicero’s works on
speculative philosophy generally consist of—(1.) _The Academics_, or a
history and defence of the belief of the New Academy. (2.) The _De
Finibus Bonorum et Malorum_, dialogues on the supreme good, the end of
all moral action. (3.) _The Tusculanæ Disputationes_, containing five
independent treatises on the fear of death, the endurance of pain, the
power of wisdom over sorrow, the morbid passions, the relation of virtue
to happiness. In these treatises Stoicism predominates, although
opinions are adduced from the whole range of Greek philosophy. (4.)
_Paradoxa_, in which the six celebrated Stoical paradoxies are touched
upon in a light and amusing manner. (5.) A dialogue in praise of
philosophy, named after Hortensius. (6.) Translations of the Timæus and
Protagoras of Plato. Of these last three treatises only a few fragments
remain.
His moral philosophy comprehends—(1.) The _De Officiis_, a Stoical
treatise on moral obligations, addressed to his son Marcus, at that time
a student at Athens. (2.) The unequalled little essays on Friendship and
Old Age. A few words also are preserved of two books on Glory, addressed
to Atticus; and one which he wrote on the Alleviation of Grief when
bereaved of his beloved daughter.[855] He left one theological work in
three parts: the first part is on the “Nature of the Gods;” the second
on the “Science of Divination;” the third on “Fate,” of which an
inconsiderable fragment is extant. His office of augur probably
suggested to him the composition of these treatises.
His political works are two in number—the _De Republica_[856] and _De
Legibus_; both are imperfect. The remains of the former are only
fragmentary; of the latter, three out of six books are extant, and those
not entire. Nevertheless, sufficient of both remains to enable us to
form some estimate of their philosophical character. Although he does
not profess originality, but confesses that they are imitations of the
two treatises of Plato, which bear the same name, still they are more
inductive than any of his other treatises. His purpose is, like that of
Plato, to give in the one an ideal republic, and in the other a sketch
of a model legislation; but the novelty of the treatment consists in
their principles being derived from the Roman constitution and the Roman
laws.
The questions which he proposes to answer are, what is the best
government and the best code: but the limits within which he confines
himself are the institutions of his country. In the Republic he first
discusses, like the Greek philosophers, the merits and demerits of the
three pure forms of government; and upon the whole decides in favour of
monarchy[857] as the best. With Aristotle[858] he agrees that all the
pure forms are liable to degenerate,[859] and comes to the conclusion
that the idea of a perfect polity is a combination of all three.[860] In
order to prove and illustrate his theory, he investigates, though it
must be confessed in a meager and imperfect manner, the constitutional
history of Rome, and discovers the monarchical element in the
consulship, the aristocratic in the senate, and the popular in the
assembly of the people and the tribunitial authority.
The Romans continued jealously to preserve the shadow of their
constitution even after they had surrendered the substance. Nominally,
the titles and offices of the old republic never perished—the Emperor
was in name nothing more than (Imperator) the commander-in-chief of the
armies of the republic, but in him all power centred: he was absolute,
autocratic, the chief of a military despotism.[861] Cicero, as the
treatise _De Legibus_ plainly shows, saw, with approbation, that this
state of things was rapidly coming to pass; that the people were not
fitted to be trusted with liberty, and yet that they would be contented
with its semblance and name.
The method which he pursues, is, firstly, to treat the subject in the
abstract, and to investigate the nature of law; and, secondly, to
propose an ideal code, limited by the principles of Roman jurisprudence.
Thus Cicero’s polity and code were not Utopian—the models on which they
were formed had a real tangible existence. His was the system of a
practical man, as the Roman constitution was that of a practical people.
It was not like Greek liberty, the realization of one single idea; it
was like that of England, the growth of ages, the development of a long
train of circumstances, and expedients, and experiments, and
emergencies. Cicero prudently acquiesced in the ruin of liberty as a
stern necessity; but he evidently thought that Rome had attained the
zenith of its national greatness immediately before the agitations of
the Gracchi.
Both these works are written in the engaging form of dialogues. In the
one, Scipio Æmilianus, Lælius, Scævola, and others, meet together in the
Latin holidays (Feriæ Latinæ,) and discuss the question of government.
In the other, the writer himself, with his brother Quintus and Atticus,
converse on jurisprudence whilst they saunter on a little islet near
Arpinum at the confluence of the Liris and Fibrena.
We must, lastly, contemplate Cicero as a correspondent. This intercourse
of congenial minds separated from one another, and induced by the force
of circumstances to digest and arrange their thoughts in their
communication, forms one of the most delightful and interesting, and at
the same time one of the most characteristic, portions of Roman
literature. A Roman thought that whenever he put pen to paper it was his
duty, to a certain extent, to avoid carelessness and offences against
good taste, and to bestow upon his friend some portion of that elaborate
attention which, as an author, he would devote to the public eye. In
fact the letter-writer was almost addressing the same persons as the
author; for the latter wrote for the approbation of his friends, the
circle of intimates in which he lived: the approbation of the public was
a secondary object. The Greeks were not writers of letters: the few
which we possess were mere written messages, containing such necessary
information as the interruption of intercourse demanded. There was no
interchange of hopes and fears, thoughts, sentiments, and feelings.
The extent of Cicero’s correspondence is almost incredible: even those
epistles which remain form a very voluminous collection—more than eight
hundred are extant. The letters to his friends and acquaintances (ad
Familiares) occupy sixteen books; those to Atticus sixteen more; and we
have besides three books of letters to Quintus, and one to Brutus; but
the authenticity of this last collection is somewhat doubtful. It is
quite clear that none of them were intended for publication, as those of
Pliny and Seneca were. They are elegant without stiffness, the natural
outpourings of a mind which could not give birth to an ungraceful idea.
When speaking of the perilous and critical politics of the day, more or
less restraint and reserve are apparent, according to the intimacy with
the person whom he is addressing, but no attempt at pompous display. His
style is so simple that the reader forgets that Cicero ever wrote or
delivered an oration. There is the eloquence of the heart, not of the
rhetoric school. Every subject is touched upon which could interest the
statesman, the man of letters, the admirer of the fine arts, or the man
of the world. The writer reveals in them his own motives, his secret
springs of actions, his loves, his hatreds, his strength, his weakness.
They extend over more than a quarter of a century, the most interesting
period of his own life, and one of the most critical in the history of
his country. The letters to Quintus are those of an elder brother to one
who stood in great need of good advice. Although Quintus was not
deserving of his brother’s affection, M. Cicero was warmly attached to
him, and took an interest in his welfare. Quintus was proprætor of Asia,
and not fitted for the office; and Cicero was not sparing in his
admonitions, though he offered them with kindness and delicacy. The
details of his family concerns form not the least interesting portion of
this correspondence. There is, as might be expected, more reserve in the
letters _ad Familiares_ than in those addressed to Atticus. They are
written to a variety of correspondents, of every shade and complexion of
opinions, many of them mere acquaintances, not intimate friends; but
whilst, for this reason, less historically valuable, they are the most
pleasing of the collection, on account of the exquisite elegance of
their style. They are models of pure Latinity. In the letters to
Atticus, on the other hand, he lays bare the secrets of his heart; he
trusts his life in his hands; he is not only his friend but his
confidant, his second self. Were it not for the letters of Cicero, we
should have had but a superficial knowledge of this period of Roman
history, as well as of the inner life of Roman society.
An elegant poetic compliment paid to Cicero by Laurea Tullus, one of his
freedmen, has been preserved by Pliny.[862] The subject of it is a
medicinal spring in the neighbourhood of the Academy.
Quo tua Romanæ vindex clarissime linguæ
Silva loco melius surgere jussa viret
Atque Academiæ celebratam nomine villam
Nunc reparat cultu sub potiore Vetus:
Hic etiam adparent lymphæ non ante repertæ
Languida quæ infuso lumina rore levant.
Nimirum locus ipse sui Ciceronis honori
Hoc dedit hac fontes cum patefecit opes
Ut quoniam totum legitur sine fine per orbem
Sint plures oculis quæ medeantur, aquæ.
Father of eloquence in Rome,
The groves that once pertained to thee
Now with a fresher verdure bloom
Around thy famed Academy.
Vetus at length this favoured seat
Hath with a tasteful care restored;
And newly at thy loved retreat
A gushing fount its stream has poured.
These waters cure an aching sight;
And thus the spring that bursts to view
Through future ages shall requite
The fame this spot from Tully drew. _Elton._
The correspondents of Cicero included a number of eminent men. Atticus
was the least interesting, for his politic caution rendered him unstable
and insincere; but there was Cassius the tyrannicide; the Stoical Cato
of Utica; Cæcina, the warm partisan of Pompey; the orator Cælius Rufus;
Hirtius and Oppius, the literary friends of Cæsar; Lucceius the
historian; Matius the mimiambic poet; and that patron of arts and
letters,[863] C. Asinius Pollio.
Pollio was a scion of a distinguished house, and was born at Rome B. C.
76.[864] Even as a youth he was distinguished for wit and
sprightliness;[865] and at the age of twenty-two was the prosecutor of
C. Cato. He was with Cæsar at the Rubicon, at Pharsalia, in Africa, and
in Spain; and was finally intrusted with the conduct of the war in that
province against Sextus Pompey. On the establishment of the first
triumvirate, Pollio, after some hesitation, sent in his adhesion; and
Antony intrusted him with the administration of Gallia Transpadana,
including the allotment of the confiscated lands among the veteran
soldiers. He thus had opportunity of protecting Virgil and saving his
property. In B. C. 40, Octavian and Antony were reconciled at Brundisium
by his mediation. A successful campaign in Illyria concluded his
military career with the glories of a triumph,[866] and he then retired
from public life to his villa at Tusculum, and devoted himself to study.
He enjoyed life to the last, and died in his eightieth year. He left
three children, one of whom, Asinius Gallus,[867] wrote a comparison
between his father and Cicero, which was answered by the Emperor
Claudius.[868]
In oratory, poetry, and history, Pollio enjoyed a high reputation among
contemporary critics, and yet none of his works have survived. The
solution of this difficulty may, perhaps, be found in the following
circumstances:—1. His patronage of literary men rendered him popular,
and drew from the critics a somewhat partial verdict. His kindness
caused Horace to extol[869] him, and Virgil to address to him his most
remarkable eclogue.[870] 2. His taste was formed before the new literary
school commenced. He had always a profound admiration for the old
writers, and frequently quoted them. His style probably appeared
antiquated and pedantic, and, therefore, never became generally popular.
A later writer[871] says, that he was so harsh and dry as to appear to
have reproduced the style of Attius and Pacuvius, not only in his
tragedies, but also in his orations. Quintilian observes,[872] that he
seemed to belong to the pre-Ciceronian period. Niebuhr, who could only
form his opinion upon the slight fragments preserved by Seneca, for the
three letters in Cicero’s collection[873] are only despatches, affirms
that he seems to stand between two distinct generations,[874] namely,
the literary periods of Cicero and Virgil. His great work was a history
of the civil wars, in seventeen books. He pretended to be a critic, but
his criticism was fastidious and somewhat ill-natured. He found
blemishes in Cicero, inaccuracies in Cæsar, pedantry in Sallust, and
provincialism (Patavinitas) in Livy. The correctness of his judgment
respecting the charming narratives of the great historian has been
assumed from generation to generation, yet no one can discover in what
this _Pativinity_ consists. It was easier to find fault than to write
correctly; for, whilst all the labours of the critic have perished,
Cicero, Cæsar, Sallust, and Livy are immortal. Vehemence and passion
developed his character.
Still he was one of the greatest benefactors to the literature of his
country; more especially as he was the first to found a public library.
Books had already been brought to Rome, and collections formed. Æmilius
Paulus had a library—Lucullus had one also, to which he allowed learned
men to have access. Sulla enriched Rome with the plunder of the Athenian
libraries; and in his time Tyrannis the grammarian was the possessor of
three thousand volumes. Julius Cæsar employed the learned Varro to
collect books with a view to a national collection, but death put a stop
to his intentions.[875] Pollio expended the spoils of Dalmatia in
founding a temple to Liberty in the Aventine, and furnishing it with a
library, the nucleus of which were the collections of Sulla and Varro.
After this time, the work was carried on by imperial munificence.
Augustus founded the Octavian library in the temple of Juno, and the
Palatine in the palace. Tiberius augmented the latter. Vespasian placed
one in the temple of Peace. Trajan formed the Ulpian; Domitian the
Capitoline; Hadrian a magnificent one at his own villa; and in the reign
of Constantine the number of public libraries exceeded twenty.
M. TERENTIUS VARRO REATINUS (BORN B. C. 116.)
On an ancient medal is represented the effigy of Julius Cæsar bearing a
book in one hand and a sword in the other,[876] with the legend “Ex
utroque Cæsar.” This device represents the genius of many a
distinguished citizen of the republic, and that of Varro amongst the
number, for he was a soldier, and at the same time the most learned of
his countrymen. He was born[877] at Reate (Rieti,) a Sabine town
situated in the Tempe of Italy, in the neighbourhood of the celebrated
cascade of Terni. Ælius Stilo, the antiquarian, was the instructor of
his earlier years,[878] and from him he derived his thirst for
knowledge, and his ardent devotion to original investigation. He
subsequently studied philosophy under Antiochus, a professor of the
Academic school.[879] In politics he was warmly attached to the party of
Pompey, under whom he served in the Piratic and Mithridatic wars. He was
also one of his three _Legati_ in Spain, and did not resign his command
until the towns in the south of that province eagerly submitted to
Cæsar. After the battle of Pharsalia, he experienced the clemency of the
conqueror, but not soon enough to save his villa from being attacked and
plundered.[880]
Cæsar appreciated Varro’s extensive learning and intrusted to him the
formation of the great public library.[881] Henceforth he shunned the
perils of political life,[882] and in the retirement of his villas
devoted himself zealously to the pursuit of literature. Nevertheless he
could not escape the unrelenting persecution of political party; for in
that proscription to which Cicero fell a victim, his name was in the
list until it was erased by Antony.[883] Although he was seventy years
old, his industry was unabated, and he continued his literary labours
until his death, which took place in the eighty-ninth year of his
age.[884] Varro was a man of ponderous erudition and unwearied
industry,[885] without a spark of taste and genius. No Roman author
wrote so much as he did, no one read so much except Pliny; yet,
notwithstanding all this practice and study, he never acquired an
agreeable style. He dissected and anatomized the Latin language with all
the powers of critical analysis; but he was never imbued with its
elegant polish or its nervous eloquence.
Wherever, as in the case of his treatise on agriculture, he had access
to sound information and good authority, his habits of arrangement, the
clearness with which he classified, and the careful judgment with which
he adduced his facts, render his works valuable. Few men have possessed
greater powers of combining and systematizing: his mind was, as it were,
full of compartments, in which each species of knowledge had its proper
place, but it was nothing more. Whenever he left the beaten track of
other men’s discoveries, and indulged in free conjecture or original
thought, as in his grammatical works, his learning seems to desert him;
and etymology, which has tempted so many mere conjecturers to go astray,
led him also into absurdity.
One of his works, _Antiquitates Divinarum Rerum_, acquires a peculiar
interest from the fact of its having been the storehouse from which St.
Augustine, who was a great admirer of his learning, derived much of his
treatise _De Civitate Dei_. How this laborious compilation was lost it
is impossible to say. We can only lament the accident which deprives us
of the work to which especially the author owes his reputation. In the
treatise, which together with this forms one work, namely, _Antiquitates
Rerum Humanarum_, he investigated the early history and chronology of
Rome,[886] and fixed the date of the building of the city in the year
B. C. 753, a date which is now commonly received by the best
historians.[887]
A catalogue of his numerous books and tracts on almost every subject
which then engaged the attention of literary men—on history, biography,
geography, philosophy, criticism, and morals—would be uninteresting, but
his principal works were as follows:—
I. _De Re Rustica, Libri_ III.
II. _De Lingua Latina, Libri_ XXIV., of which only six are extant,
and these in a mutilated condition.
III. _Antiquitates Rerum Humanarum, Libri_ XXV. _Antiquitates Rerum
Divinarum, Libri_ XVI.
IV. _Saturæ_, partly in prose, partly in verse; consisting of moral
essays and dialogues, exposing the vices and follies of the day, and
teaching their lessons rather in a light and amusing than a didactic
form.
V. Poems, of which eighteen short epigrams of no great merit are
extant.