him with reproaches and contempt, he in a letter to the senate exhorted
them to avenge his wrongs and those of the republic; desiring them to
excuse his not appearing in the senate-house, because he had got cold.
But nothing so much galled him, as to find himself railed at as a pitiful
harper, and, instead of Nero, styled Aenobarbus: which being his family
name, since he was upbraided with it, he declared that he would resume
it, and lay aside the name he had taken by adoption. Passing by the
other accusations as wholly groundless, he earnestly refuted that of his
want of skill in an art upon which he had bestowed so much pains, and in
which he had arrived at such perfection; asking frequently those about
him, “if they knew any one who was a more accomplished musician?” But
being alarmed by messengers after messengers of ill news from Gaul, he
returned in great consternation to Rome. On the road, his mind was
somewhat relieved, by observing the frivolous omen of a Gaulish soldier
defeated and dragged by the hair by a Roman knight, which was sculptured
on a monument; so that he leaped for joy, and adored the heavens. Even
then he made no appeal either to the senate or people, but calling
together some of the leading men at his own house, he held a hasty
consultation upon the present state of affairs, and then, during the
remainder of the day, carried them about with him to view some musical
instruments, of a new invention, which were played by water [620] (372)
exhibiting all the parts, and discoursing upon the principles and
difficulties of the contrivance; which, he told them, he intended to
produce in the theatre, if Vindex would give him leave.
XLII. Soon afterwards, he received intelligence that Galba and the
Spaniards had declared against him; upon which, he fainted, and losing
his reason, lay a long time speechless, apparently dead. As soon as
recovered from this state stupefaction he tore his clothes, and beat his
head, crying out, “It is all over with me!” His nurse endeavouring to
comfort him, and telling him that the like things had happened to other
princes before him, he replied, “I am beyond all example wretched, for I
have lost an empire whilst I am still living.” He, nevertheless, abated
nothing of his luxury and inattention to business. Nay, on the arrival
of good news from the provinces, he, at a sumptuous entertainment, sung
with an air of merriment, some jovial verses upon the leaders of the
revolt, which were made public; and accompanied them with suitable
gestures. Being carried privately to the theatre, he sent word to an
actor who was applauded by the spectators, “that he had it all his own
way, now that he himself did not appear on the stage.”
XLIII. At the first breaking out of these troubles, it is believed that
he had formed many designs of a monstrous nature, although conformable
enough to his natural disposition. These were to send new governors and
commanders to the provinces and the armies, and employ assassins to
butcher all the former governors and commanders, as men unanimously
engaged in a conspiracy against him; to massacre the exiles in every
quarter, and all the Gaulish population in Rome; the former lest they
should join the insurrection; the latter as privy to the designs of their
countrymen, and ready to support (373) them; to abandon Gaul itself, to
be wasted and plundered by his armies; to poison the whole senate at a
feast; to fire the city, and then let loose the wild beasts upon the
people, in order to impede their stopping the progress of the flames.
But being deterred from the execution of these designs not so much by
remorse of conscience, as by despair of being able to effect them, and
judging an expedition into Gaul necessary, he removed the consuls from
their office, before the time of its expiration was arrived; and in their
room assumed the consulship himself without a colleague, as if the fates
had decreed that Gaul should not be conquered, but by a consul. Upon
assuming the fasces, after an entertainment at the palace, as he walked
out of the room leaning on the arms of some of his friends, he declared,
that as soon as he arrived in the province, he would make his appearance
amongst the troops, unarmed, and do nothing but weep: and that, after he
had brought the mutineers to repentance, he would, the next day, in the
public rejoicings, sing songs of triumph, which he must now, without loss
of time, apply himself to compose.
XLIV. In preparing for this expedition, his first care was to provide
carriages for his musical instruments and machinery to be used upon the
stage; to have the hair of the concubines he carried with him dressed in
the fashion of men; and to supply them with battle-axes, and Amazonian
bucklers. He summoned the city-tribes to enlist; but no qualified
persons appearing, he ordered all masters to send a certain number of
slaves, the best they had, not excepting their stewards and secretaries.
He commanded the several orders of the people to bring in a fixed
proportion of their estates, as they stood in the censor’s books; all
tenants of houses and mansions to pay one year’s rent forthwith into the
exchequer; and, with unheard-of strictness, would receive only new coin
of the purest silver and the finest gold; insomuch that most people
refused to pay, crying out unanimously that he ought to squeeze the
informers, and oblige them to surrender their gains.
XLV. The general odium in which he was held received an increase by the
great scarcity of corn, and an occurrence connected with it. For, as it
happened just at that time, there arrived from Alexandria a ship, which
was said to be freighted (374) with dust for the wrestlers belonging to
the emperor [621]. This so much inflamed the public rage, that he was
treated with the utmost abuse and scurrility. Upon the top of one of his
statues was placed the figure of a chariot with a Greek inscription, that
“Now indeed he had a race to run; let him be gone.” A little bag was
tied about another, with a ticket containing these words; “What could I
do?”--“Truly thou hast merited the sack.” [622] Some person likewise
wrote on the pillars in the forum, “that he had even woke the cocks [623]
with his singing.” And many, in the night-time, pretending to find fault
with their servants, frequently called for a Vindex. [624]
XLVI. He was also terrified with manifest warnings, both old and new,
arising from dreams, auspices, and omens. He had never been used to
dream before the murder of his mother. After that event, he fancied in
his sleep that he was steering a ship, and that the rudder was forced
from him: that he was dragged by his wife Octavia into a prodigiously
dark place; and was at one time covered over with a vast swarm of winged
ants, and at another, surrounded by the national images which were set up
near Pompey’s theatre, and hindered from advancing farther; that a
Spanish jennet he was fond of, had his hinder parts so changed, as to
resemble those of an ape; and having his head only left unaltered,
neighed very harmoniously. The doors of the mausoleum of Augustus flying
open of themselves, there issued from it a voice, calling on him by name.
The Lares being adorned with fresh garlands on the calends (the first) of
January, fell down during the preparations for sacrificing to them.
While he was taking (375) the omens, Sporus presented him with a ring,
the stone of which had carved upon it the Rape of Proserpine. When a
great multitude of the several orders was assembled, to attend at the
solemnity of making vows to the gods, it was a long time before the keys
of the Capitol could be found. And when, in a speech of his to the
senate against Vindex, these words were read, “that the miscreants should
be punished and soon make the end they merited,” they all cried out, “You
will do it, Augustus.” It was likewise remarked, that the last tragic
piece which he sung, was Oedipus in Exile, and that he fell as he was
repeating this verse:
Thanein m’ anoge syngamos, maetaer, pataer.
Wife, mother, father, force me to my end.
XLVII. Meanwhile, on the arrival of the news, that the rest of the
armies had declared against him, he tore to pieces the letters which were
delivered to him at dinner, overthrew the table, and dashed with violence
against the ground two favourite cups, which he called Homer’s, because
some of that poet’s verses were cut upon them. Then taking from Locusta
a dose of poison, which he put up in a golden box, he went into the
Servilian gardens, and thence dispatching a trusty freedman to Ostia,
with orders to make ready a fleet, he endeavoured to prevail with some
tribunes and centurions of the pretorian guards to attend him in his
flight; but part of them showing no great inclination to comply, others
absolutely refusing, and one of them crying out aloud,
Usque adeone mori miserum est?
Say, is it then so sad a thing to die? [625]
he was in great perplexity whether he should submit himself to Galba, or
apply to the Parthians for protection, or else appear before the people
dressed in mourning, and, upon the rostra, in the most piteous manner,
beg pardon for his past misdemeanors, and, if he could not prevail,
request of them to grant him at least the government of Egypt. A speech
to this purpose was afterwards found in his writing-case. But it is
conjectured that he durst not venture upon this project, for fear of
being torn to pieces, before he could get to the Forum. Deferring,
therefore, his resolution until the next (376) day, he awoke about
midnight, and finding the guards withdrawn, he leaped out of bed, and
sent round for his friends. But none of them vouchsafing any message in
reply, he went with a few attendants to their houses. The doors being
every where shut, and no one giving him any answer, he returned to his
bed-chamber; whence those who had the charge of it had all now eloped;
some having gone one way, and some another, carrying off with them his
bedding and box of poison. He then endeavoured to find Spicillus, the
gladiator, or some one to kill him; but not being able to procure any
one, “What!” said he, “have I then neither friend nor foe?” and
immediately ran out, as if he would throw himself into the Tiber.
XLVIII. But this furious impulse subsiding, he wished for some place of
privacy, where he might collect his thoughts; and his freedman Phaon
offering him his country-house, between the Salarian [626] and Nomentan
[627] roads, about four miles from the city, he mounted a horse, barefoot
as he was, and in his tunic, only slipping over it an old soiled cloak;
with his head muffled up, and an handkerchief before his face, and four
persons only to attend him, of whom Sporus was one. He was suddenly
struck with horror by an earthquake, and by a flash of lightning which
darted full in his face, and heard from the neighbouring camp [628] the
shouts of the soldiers, wishing his destruction, and prosperity to Galba.
He also heard a traveller they met on the road, say, “They are (377) in
pursuit of Nero:” and another ask, “Is there any news in the city about
Nero?” Uncovering his face when his horse was started by the scent of a
carcase which lay in the road, he was recognized and saluted by an old
soldier who had been discharged from the guards. When they came to the
lane which turned up to the house, they quitted their horses, and with
much difficulty he wound among bushes, and briars, and along a track
through a bed of rushes, over which they spread their cloaks for him to
walk on. Having reached a wall at the back of the villa, Phaon advised
him to hide himself awhile in a sand-pit; when he replied, “I will not go
under-ground alive.” Staying there some little time, while preparations
were made for bringing him privately into the villa, he took up some
water out of a neighbouring tank in his hand, to drink, saying, “This is
Nero’s distilled water.” [629] Then his cloak having been torn by the
brambles, he pulled out the thorns which stuck in it. At last, being
admitted, creeping upon his hands and knees, through a hole made for him
in the wall, he lay down in the first closet he came to, upon a miserable
pallet, with an old coverlet thrown over it; and being both hungry and
thirsty, though he refused some coarse bread that was brought him, he
drank a little warm water.
XLIX. All who surrounded him now pressing him to save himself from the
indignities which were ready to befall him, he ordered a pit to be sunk
before his eyes, of the size of his body, and the bottom to be covered
with pieces of marble put together, if any could be found about the
house; and water and wood [630], to be got ready for immediate use about
his corpse; weeping at every thing that was done, and frequently saying,
“What an artist is now about to perish!” Meanwhile, letters being
brought in by a servant belonging to Phaon, he snatched them out of his
hand, and there read, “That he had been declared an enemy by the senate,
and that search was making for him, that he might be punished according
to the ancient custom of the Romans.” He then inquired what kind of
punishment that was; and being told, that the (378) practice was to strip
the criminal naked, and scourge him to death, while his neck was fastened
within a forked stake, he was so terrified that he took up two daggers
which he had brought with him, and after feeling the points of both, put
them up again, saying, “The fatal hour is not yet come.” One while, he
begged of Sporus to begin to wail and lament; another while, he entreated
that one of them would set him an example by killing himself; and then
again, he condemned his own want of resolution in these words: “I yet
live to my shame and disgrace: this is not becoming for Nero: it is not
becoming. Thou oughtest in such circumstances to have a good heart:
Come, then: courage, man!” [631] The horsemen who had received orders to
bring him away alive, were now approaching the house. As soon as he
heard them coming, he uttered with a trembling voice the following verse,
Hippon m’ okupodon amphi ktupos ouata ballei; [632]
The noise of swift-heel’d steeds assails my ears;
he drove a dagger into his throat, being assisted in the act by
Epaphroditus, his secretary. A centurion bursting in just as he was
half-dead, and applying his cloak to the wound, pretending that he was
come to his assistance, he made no other reply but this, “‘Tis too late;”
and “Is this your loyalty?” Immediately after pronouncing these words,
he expired, with his eyes fixed and starting out of his head, to the
terror of all who beheld him. He had requested of his attendants, as the
most essential favour, that they would let no one have his head, but that
by all means his body might be burnt entire. And this, Icelus, Galba’s
freedman, granted. He had but a little before been discharged from the
prison into which he had been thrown, when the disturbances first broke
out.
L. The expenses of his funeral amounted to two hundred thousand
sesterces; the bed upon which his body was carried to the pile and burnt,
being covered with the white robes, interwoven with gold, which he had
worn upon the calends of January preceding. His nurses, Ecloge and
Alexandra, with his concubine Acte, deposited his remains in the tomb
belonging (379) to the family of the Domitii, which stands upon the top
of the Hill of the Gardens [633], and is to be seen from the Campus
Martius. In that monument, a coffin of porphyry, with an altar of marble
of Luna over it, is enclosed by a wall built of stone brought from
Thasos. [634]
LI. In stature he was a little below the common height; his skin was
foul and spotted; his hair inclined to yellow; his features were
agreeable, rather than handsome; his eyes grey and dull, his neck was
thick, his belly prominent, his legs very slender, his constitution
sound. For, though excessively luxurious in his mode of living, he had,
in the course of fourteen years, only three fits of sickness; which were
so slight, that he neither forbore the use of wine, nor made any
alteration in his usual diet. In his dress, and the care of his person,
he was so careless, that he had his hair cut in rings, one above another;
and when in Achaia, he let it grow long behind; and he generally appeared
in public in the loose dress which he used at table, with a handkerchief
about his neck, and without either a girdle or shoes.
LII. He was instructed, when a boy, in the rudiments of almost all the
liberal sciences; but his mother diverted him from the study of
philosophy, as unsuited to one destined to be an emperor; and his
preceptor, Seneca, discouraged him from reading the ancient orators, that
he might longer secure his devotion to himself. Therefore, having a turn
for poetry, (380) he composed verses both with pleasure and ease; nor did
he, as some think, publish those of other writers as his own. Several
little pocket-books and loose sheets have come into my possession, which
contain some well-known verses in his own hand, and written in such a
manner, that it was very evident, from the blotting and interlining, that
they had not been transcribed from a copy, nor dictated by another, but
were written by the composer of them.
LIII. He had likewise great taste for drawing and painting, as well as
for moulding statues in plaster. But, above all things, he most eagerly
coveted popularity, being the rival of every man who obtained the
applause of the people for any thing he did. It was the general belief,
that, after the crowns he won by his performances on the stage, he would
the next lustrum have taken his place among the wrestlers at the Olympic
games. For he was continually practising that art; nor did he witness
the gymnastic games in any part of Greece otherwise than sitting upon the
ground in the stadium, as the umpires do. And if a pair of wrestlers
happened to break the bounds, he would with his own hands drag them back
into the centre of the circle. Because he was thought to equal Apollo in
music, and the sun in chariot-driving, he resolved also to imitate the
achievements of Hercules. And they say that a lion was got ready for him
to kill, either with a club, or with a close hug, in view of the people
in the amphitheatre; which he was to perform naked.
LIV. Towards the end of his life, he publicly vowed, that if his power
in the state was securely re-established, he would, in the spectacles
which he intended to exhibit in honour of his success, include a
performance upon organs [635], as well as upon flutes and bagpipes, and,
on the last day of the games, would act in the play, and take the part of
Turnus, as we find it in Virgil. And there are some who say, that he put
to death the player Paris as a dangerous rival.
LV. He had an insatiable desire to immortalize his name, and acquire a
reputation which should last through all succeeding ages; but it was
capriciously directed. He therefore (381) took from several things and
places their former appellations, and gave them new names derived from
his own. He called the month of April, Neroneus, and designed changing
the name of Rome into that of Neropolis.
LVI. He held all religious rites in contempt, except those of the Syrian
Goddess [636]; but at last he paid her so little reverence, that he made
water upon her; being now engaged in another superstition, in which only
he obstinately persisted. For having received from some obscure plebeian
a little image of a girl, as a preservative against plots, and
discovering a conspiracy immediately after, he constantly worshipped his
imaginary protectress as the greatest amongst the gods, offering to her
three sacrifices daily. He was also desirous to have it supposed that he
had, by revelations from this deity, a knowledge of future events. A few
months before he died, he attended a sacrifice, according to the Etruscan
rites, but the omens were not favourable.
LVII. He died in the thirty-second year of his age [637], upon the same
day on which he had formerly put Octavia to death; and the public joy was
so great upon the occasion, that the common people ran about the city
with caps upon their heads. Some, however, were not wanting, who for a
long time decked his tomb with spring and summer flowers. Sometimes they
placed his image upon the rostra, dressed in robes of state; at another,
they published proclamations in his name, as if he were still alive, and
would shortly return to Rome, and take vengeance on all his enemies.
Vologesus, king of the Parthians, when he sent ambassadors to the senate
to renew his alliance with the Roman people, earnestly requested that due
honour should be paid to the memory of Nero; and, to conclude, when,
twenty years afterwards, at which time I was a young man [638], some
person of obscure birth gave himself out for Nero, that name secured him
so favourable a reception (382) from the Parthians, that he was very
zealously supported, and it was with much difficulty that they were
prevailed upon to give him up.
* * * * * * *
Though no law had ever passed for regulating the transmission of the
imperial power, yet the design of conveying it by lineal descent was
implied in the practice of adoption. By the rule of hereditary
succession, Britannicus, the son of Claudius, was the natural heir to the
throne; but he was supplanted by the artifices of his stepmother, who had
the address to procure it for her own son, Nero. From the time of
Augustus it had been the custom of each of the new sovereigns to commence
his reign in such a manner as tended to acquire popularity, however much
they all afterwards degenerated from those specious beginnings. Whether
this proceeded entirely from policy, or that nature was not yet vitiated
by the intoxication of uncontrolled power, is uncertain; but such were
the excesses into which they afterwards plunged, that we can scarcely
exempt any of them, except, perhaps, Claudius, from the imputation of
great original depravity. The vicious temper of Tiberius was known to
his own mother, Livia; that of Caligula had been obvious to those about
him from his infancy; Claudius seems to have had naturally a stronger
tendency to weakness than to vice; but the inherent wickedness of Nero
was discovered at an early period by his preceptor, Seneca. Yet even
this emperor commenced his reign in a manner which procured him
approbation. Of all the Roman emperors who had hitherto reigned, he
seems to have been most corrupted by profligate favourites, who flattered
his follies and vices, to promote their own aggrandisement. In the
number of these was Tigellinus, who met at last with the fate which he
had so amply merited.
The several reigns from the death of Augustus present us with uncommon
scenes of cruelty and horror; but it was reserved for that of Nero to
exhibit to the world the atrocious act of an emperor deliberately
procuring the death of his mother.
Julia Agrippina was the daughter of Germanicus, and married Domitius
Aenobarbus, by whom she had Nero. At the death of Messalina she was a
widow; and Claudius, her uncle, entertaining a design of entering again
into the married state, she aspired to an incestuous alliance with him,
in competition with Lollia Paulina, a woman of beauty and intrigue, who
had been married to C. Caesar. The two rivals were strongly supported by
their (383) respective parties; but Agrippina, by her superior interest
with the emperor’s favourites, and the familiarity to which her near
relation gave her a claim, obtained the preference; and the portentous
nuptials of the emperor and his niece were publicly solemnized in the
palace. Whether she was prompted to this flagrant indecency by personal
ambition alone, or by the desire of procuring the succession to the
empire for her son, is uncertain; but there remains no doubt of her
having removed Claudius by poison, with a view to the object now
mentioned. Besides Claudius, she projected the death of L. Silanus, and
she accomplished that of his brother, Junius Silanus, by means likewise
of poison. She appears to have been richly endowed with the gifts of
nature, but in her disposition intriguing, violent, imperious, and ready
to sacrifice every principle of virtue, in the pursuit of supreme power
or sensual gratification. As she resembled Livia in the ambition of a
mother, and the means by which she indulged it, so she more than equalled
her in the ingratitude of an unnatural son and a parricide. She is said
to have left behind her some memoirs, of which Tacitus availed himself in
the composition of his Annals.
In this reign, the conquest of the Britons still continued to be the
principal object of military enterprise, and Suetonius Paulinus was
invested with the command of the Roman army employed in the reduction of
that people. The island of Mona, now Anglesey, being the chief seat of
the Druids, he resolved to commence his operations with attacking a place
which was the centre of superstition, and to which the vanquished Britons
retreated as the last asylum of liberty. The inhabitants endeavoured,
both by force of arms and the terrors of religion, to obstruct his
landing on this sacred island. The women and Druids assembled
promiscuously with the soldiers upon the shore, where running about in
wild disorder, with flaming torches in their hands, and pouring forth the
most hideous exclamations, they struck the Romans with consternation.
But Suetonius animating his troops, they boldly attacked the inhabitants,
routed them in the field, and burned the Druids in the same fires which
had been prepared by those priests for the catastrophe of the invaders,
destroying at the same time all the consecrated groves and altars in the
island. Suetonius having thus triumphed over the religion of the
Britons, flattered himself with the hopes of soon effecting the reduction
of the people. But they, encouraged by his absence, had taken arms, and
under the conduct of Boadicea, queen of the Iceni, who had been treated
in the most ignominious manner by the Roman tribunes, had already driven
the hateful invaders from their several settlements. Suetonius hastened
to (384) the protection of London, which was by this time a flourishing
Roman colony; but he found upon his arrival, that any attempt to preserve
it would be attended with the utmost danger to the army. London
therefore was reduced to ashes; and the Romans, and all strangers, to the
number of seventy thousand, were put to the sword without distinction,
the Britons seeming determined to convince the enemy that they would
acquiesce in no other terms than a total evacuation of the island. This
massacre, however, was revenged by Suetonius in a decisive engagement,
where eighty thousand of the Britons are said to have been killed; after
which, Boadicea, to avoid falling into the hands of the insolent
conquerors, put a period to her own life by means of poison. It being
judged unadvisable that Suetonius should any longer conduct the war
against a people whom he had exasperated by his severity, he was
recalled, and Petronius Turpilianus appointed in his room. The command
was afterwards given successively to Trebellius Maximus and Vettius
Bolanus; but the plan pursued by these generals was only to retain, by a
conciliatory administration, the parts of the island which had already
submitted to the Roman arms.
During these transactions in Britain, Nero himself was exhibiting, in
Rome or some of the provinces, such scenes of extravagance as almost
exceed credibility. In one place, entering the lists amongst the
competitors in a chariot race; in another, contending for victory with
the common musicians on the stage; revelling in open day in the company
of the most abandoned prostitutes and the vilest of men; in the night,
committing depredations on the peaceful inhabitants of the capital;
polluting with detestable lust, or drenching with human blood, the
streets, the palace, and the habitations of private families; and, to
crown his enormities, setting fire to Rome, while he sung with delight in
beholding the dreadful conflagration. In vain would history be ransacked
for a parallel to this emperor, who united the most shameful vices to the
most extravagant vanity, the most abject meanness to the strongest but
most preposterous ambition; and the whole of whose life was one continued
scene of lewdness, sensuality, rapine, cruelty, and folly. It is
emphatically observed by Tacitus, “that Nero, after the murder of many
illustrious personages, manifested a desire of extirpating virtue
itself.”
Among the excesses of Nero’s reign, are to be mentioned the horrible
cruelties exercised against the Christians in various parts of the
empire, in which inhuman transactions the natural barbarity of the
emperor was inflamed by the prejudices and interested policy of the pagan
priesthood.
(385) The tyrant scrupled not to charge them with the act of burning
Rome; and he satiated his fury against them by such outrages as are
unexampled in history. They were covered with the skins of wild beasts,
and torn by dogs; were crucified, and set on fire, that they might serve
for lights in the night-time. Nero offered his gardens for this
spectacle, and exhibited the games of the Circus by this dreadful
illumination. Sometimes they were covered with wax and other combustible
materials, after which a sharp stake was put under their chin, to make
them stand upright, and they were burnt alive, to give light to the
spectators.
In the person of Nero, it is observed by Suetonius, the race of the
Caesars became extinct; a race rendered illustrious by the first and
second emperors, but which their successors no less disgraced. The
despotism of Julius Caesar, though haughty and imperious, was liberal and
humane: that of Augustus, if we exclude a few instances of vindictive
severity towards individuals, was mild and conciliating; but the reigns
of Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero (for we except Claudius from part of the
censure), while discriminated from each other by some peculiar
circumstances, exhibited the most flagrant acts of licentiousness and
perverted authority. The most abominable lust, the most extravagant
luxury, the most shameful rapaciousness, and the most inhuman cruelty,
constitute the general characteristics of those capricious and detestable
tyrants. Repeated experience now clearly refuted the opinion of
Augustus, that he had introduced amongst the Romans the best form of
government: but while we make this observation, it is proper to remark,
that, had he even restored the republic, there is reason to believe that
the nation would again have been soon distracted with internal divisions,
and a perpetual succession of civil wars. The manners of the people were
become too dissolute to be restrained by the authority of elective and
temporary magistrates; and the Romans were hastening to that fatal period
when general and great corruption, with its attendant debility, would
render them an easy prey to any foreign invaders.
But the odious government of the emperors was not the only grievance
under which the people laboured in those disastrous times: patrician
avarice concurred with imperial rapacity to increase the sufferings of
the nation. The senators, even during the commonwealth, had become
openly corrupt in the dispensation of public justice; and under the
government of the emperors pernicious abuse was practised to a yet
greater extent. That class being now, equally with other Roman citizens,
dependent on the sovereign power, their sentiments of duty and (386)
honour were degraded by the loss of their former dignity; and being
likewise deprived of the lucrative governments of provinces, to which
they had annually succeeded by an elective rotation in the times of the
republic, they endeavoured to compensate the reduction of their
emoluments by an unbounded venality in the judicial decisions of the
forum. Every source of national happiness and prosperity was by this
means destroyed. The possession of property became precarious; industry,
in all its branches, was effectually discouraged, and the amor patriae,
which had formerly been the animating principle of the nation, was almost
universally extinguished.
It is a circumstance corresponding to the general singularity of the
present reign, that, of the few writers who flourished in it, and whose
works have been transmitted to posterity, two ended their days by the
order of the emperor, and the third, from indignation at his conduct.
These unfortunate victims were Seneca, Petronius Arbiter, and Lucan.
SENECA was born about six years before the Christian aera, and gave early
indication of uncommon talents. His father, who had come from Corduba to
Rome, was a man of letters, particularly fond of declamation, in which he
instructed his son, and placed him, for the acquisition of philosophy,
under the most celebrated stoics of that age. Young Seneca, imbibing the
precepts of the Pythagorean doctrine, religiously abstained from eating
the flesh of animals, until Tiberius having threatened to punish some
Jews and Egyptians, who abstained from certain meats, he was persuaded by
his father to renounce the Pythagorean practice. Seneca displayed the
talents of an eloquent speaker; but dreading the jealousy of Caligula,
who aspired to the same excellence, he thought proper to abandon that
pursuit, and apply himself towards suing for the honours and offices of
the state. He accordingly obtained the place of quaestor, in which
office incurring the imputation of a scandalous amour with Julia Livia,
he removed from Rome, and was banished by the emperor Claudius to
Corsica.
Upon the marriage of Claudius with Agrippina, Seneca was recalled from
his exile, in which he had remained near eight years, and was appointed
to superintend the education of Nero, now destined to become the
successor to the throne. In the character of preceptor he appears to
have acquitted himself with ability and credit; though he has been
charged by his enemies with having initiated his pupil in those
detestable vices which disgraced the reign of Nero. Could he have indeed
been guilty of such immoral conduct, it is probable that he would not so
easily have (387) forfeited the favour of that emperor; and it is more
reasonable to suppose, that his disapprobation of Nero’s conduct was the
real cause of that odium which soon after proved fatal to him. By the
enemies whom distinguished merit and virtue never fail to excite at a
profligate court, Seneca was accused of having maintained a criminal
correspondence with Agrippina in the life-time of Claudius; but the chief
author of this calumny was Suilius, who had been banished from Rome at
the instance of Seneca. He was likewise charged with having amassed
exorbitant riches, with having built magnificent houses, and formed
beautiful gardens, during the four years in which he had acted as
preceptor to Nero. This charge he considered as a prelude to his
destruction; which to avoid, if possible, he requested of the emperor to
accept of the riches and possessions which he had acquired in his
situation at court, and to permit him to withdraw himself into a life of
studious retirement. Nero, dissembling his secret intentions, refused
this request; and Seneca, that he might obviate all cause of suspicion or
offence, kept himself at home for some time, under the pretext of
indisposition.
Upon the breaking out of the conspiracy of Piso, in which some of the
principal senators were concerned, Natalis, the discoverer of the plot,
mentioned Seneca’s name, as an accessory. There is, however, no
satisfactory evidence that Seneca had any knowledge of the plot. Piso,
according to the declaration of Natalis, had complained that he never saw
Seneca; and the latter had observed, in answer, that it was not conducive
to their common interest to see each other often. Seneca likewise
pleaded indisposition, and said that his own life depended upon the
safety of Piso’s person. Nero, however, glad of such an occasion of
sacrificing the philosopher to his secret jealousy, sent him an order to
destroy himself. When the messenger arrived with this mandate, Seneca
was sitting at table, with his wife Paulina and two of his friends. He
heard the message not only with philosophical firmness, but even with
symptoms of joy, and observed, that such an honour might long have been
expected from a man who had assassinated all his friends, and even
murdered his own mother. The only request which he made, was, that he
might be permitted to dispose of his possessions as he pleased; but this
was refused him. Immediately turning himself to his friends, who were
weeping at his melancholy fate, he said to them, that, since he could not
leave them what he considered as his own property, he should leave at
least his own life for an example; an innocence of conduct which they
might imitate, and by which they might acquire immortal fame. He
remonstrated with composure against their unavailing tears and (388)
lamentations, and asked them, whether they had not learnt better to
sustain the shocks of fortune, and the violence of tyranny?
The emotions of his wife he endeavoured to allay with philosophical
consolation; and when she expressed a resolution to die with him, he
said, that he was glad to find his example imitated with so much
fortitude. The veins of both were opened at the same time; but Nero’s
command extending only to Seneca, the life of Paulina was preserved; and,
according to some authors, she was not displeased at being prevented from
carrying her precipitate resolution into effect. Seneca’s veins bleeding
but slowly, an opportunity was offered him of displaying in his last
moments a philosophical magnanimity similar to that of Socrates; and it
appears that his conversation during this solemn period was maintained
with dignified composure. To accelerate his lingering fate, he drank a
dose of poison; but this producing no effect, he ordered his attendants
to carry him into a warm bath, for the purpose of rendering the
haemorrhage from his veins more copious. This expedient proving likewise
ineffectual, and the soldiers who witnessed the execution of the
emperor’s order being clamorous for its accomplishment, he was removed
into a stove, and suffocated by the steam. He underwent his fate on the
12th of April, in the sixty-fifth year of the Christian aera, and the
fifty-third year of his age. His body was burnt, and his ashes deposited
in a private manner, according to his will, which had been made during
the period when he was in the highest degree of favour with Nero.
The writings of Seneca are numerous, and on various subjects. His first
composition, addressed to Novacus, is on Anger, and continued through
three books. After giving a lively description of this passion, the
author discusses a variety of questions concerning it: he argues strongly
against its utility, in contradiction to the peripatetics, and recommends
its restraint, by many just and excellent considerations. This treatise
may be regarded, in its general outlines, as a philosophical
amplification of the passage in Horace:--
Ira furor brevis est: animum rege; qui, nisi paret,
Imperat: hunc fraenis, hunc tu compesce catena.
Epist. I. ii.
Anger’s a fitful madness: rein thy mind,
Subdue the tyrant, and in fetters bind,
Or be thyself the slave.
The next treatise is on Consolation, addressed to his mother, Helvia, and
was written during his exile. He there informs his mother that he bears
his banishment with fortitude, and advises her to do the same. He
observes, that, in respect to himself, (389) change of place, poverty,
ignominy, and contempt, are not real evils; that there may be two reasons
for her anxiety on his account; first, that, by his absence, she is
deprived of his protection; and in the next place, of the satisfaction
arising from his company; on both which heads he suggests a variety of
pertinent observations. Prefixed to this treatise, are some epigrams
written on the banishment of Seneca, but whether or not by himself, is
uncertain.
Immediately subsequent to the preceding, is another treatise on
Consolation, addressed to one of Claudius’s freedmen, named Polybius,
perhaps after the learned historian. In this tract, which is in several
parts mutilated, the author endeavours to console Polybius for the loss
of a brother who had lately died. The sentiments and admonitions are
well suggested for the purpose; but they are intermixed with such fulsome
encomiums on the imperial domestic, as degrade the dignity of the author,
and can be ascribed to no other motive than that of endeavouring to
procure a recall from his exile, through the interest of Polybius.
A fourth treatise on Consolation is addressed to Marcia, a respectable
and opulent lady, the daughter of Cremutius Cordus, by whose death she
was deeply affected. The author, besides many consolatory arguments,
proposes for her imitation a number of examples, by attending to which
she may be enabled to overcome a passion that is founded only in too
great sensibility of mind. The subject is ingeniously prosecuted, not
without the occasional mixture of some delicate flattery, suitable to the
character of the correspondent.
These consolatory addresses are followed by a treatise on Providence,
which evinces the author to have entertained the most just and
philosophical sentiments on that subject. He infers the necessary
existence of a Providence from the regularity and constancy observed in
the government of the universe but his chief object is to show, why, upon
the principle that a Providence exists, good men should be liable to
evils. The enquiry is conducted with a variety of just observations, and
great force of argument; by which the author vindicates the goodness and
wisdom of the Almighty, in a strain of sentiment corresponding to the
most approved suggestions of natural religion.
The next treatise, which is on Tranquillity of Mind, appears to have been
written soon after his return from exile. There is a confusion in the
arrangement of this tract; but it contains a variety of just
observations, and may be regarded as a valuable production.
(390) Then follows a discourse on the Constancy of a Wise Man. This has
by some been considered as a part of the preceding treatise; but they are
evidently distinct. It is one of the author’s best productions, in
regard both of sentiment and composition, and contains a fund of moral
observations, suited to fortify the mind under the oppression of
accidental calamities.
We next meet with a tract on Clemency, in two books, addressed to Nero.
This appears to have been written in the beginning of the reign of Nero,
on whom the author bestows some high encomiums, which, at that time, seem
not to have been destitute of foundation. The discourse abounds with
just observation, applicable to all ranks of men; and, if properly
attended to by that infatuated emperor, might have prevented the
perpetration of those acts of cruelty, which, with his other
extravagancies, have rendered his name odious to posterity.
The discourse which succeeds is on the Shortness of Life, addressed to
Paulinus. In this excellent treatise the author endeavours to show, that
the complaint of the shortness of life is not founded in truth: that it
is men who make life short, either by passing it in indolence, or
otherwise improperly. He inveighs against indolence, luxury, and every
unprofitable avocation; observing, that the best use of time is to apply
it to the study of wisdom, by which life may be rendered sufficiently
long.
Next follows a discourse on a Happy Life, addressed to Gallio. Seneca
seems to have intended this as a vindication of himself, against those
who calumniated him on account of his riches and manner of living. He
maintained that a life can only be rendered happy by its conformity to
the dictates of virtue, but that such a life is perfectly compatible with
the possession of riches, where they happen to accrue. The author pleads
his own cause with great ability, as well as justness of argument. His
vindication is in many parts highly beautiful, and accompanied with
admirable sentiments respecting the moral obligations to a virtuous life.
The conclusion of this discourse bears no similarity, in point of
composition, to the preceding parts, and is evidently spurious.
The preceding discourse is followed by one upon the Retirement of a Wise
Man. The beginning of this tract is wanting; but in the sequel the
author discusses a question which was much agitated amongst the Stoics
and Epicureans, viz., whether a wise man ought to concern himself with
the affairs of the public. Both these sects of philosophers maintained
that a life of retirement was most suitable to a wise man, but they
differed with respect to the circumstances in which it might be proper to
deviate from this conduct; one party considering the deviation (391) as
prudent, when there existed a just motive for such conduct, and the
other, when there was no forcible reason against it. Seneca regards both
these opinions as founded upon principles inadequate to the advancement
both of public and private happiness, which ought ever to be the ultimate
object of moral speculation.
The last of the author’s discourses, addressed to Aebucius, is on
Benefits, and continued through seven books. He begins with lamenting
the frequency of ingratitude amongst mankind, a vice which he severely
censures. After some preliminary considerations respecting the nature of
benefits, he proceeds to show in what manner, and on whom, they ought to
be conferred. The greater part of these books is employed on the
solution of abstract questions relative to benefits, in the manner of
Chrysippus; where the author states explicitly the arguments on both
sides, and from the full consideration of them, deduces rational
conclusions.
The Epistles of Seneca consist of one hundred and twenty-four, all on
moral subjects. His Natural Questions extend through seven books, in
which he has collected the hypotheses of Aristotle and other ancient
writers. These are followed by a whimsical effusion on the death of
Caligula. The remainder of his works comprises seven Persuasive
Discourses, five books of Controversies, and ten books containing
Extracts of Declamations.
From the multiplicity of Seneca’s productions, it is evident, that,
notwithstanding the luxurious life he is said to have led, he was greatly
devoted to literature, a propensity which, it is probable, was confirmed
by his banishment during almost eight years in the island of Corsica,
where he was in a great degree secluded from every other resource of
amusement to a cultivated mind. But with whatever splendour Seneca’s
domestic economy may have been supported, it seems highly improbable that
he indulged himself in luxurious enjoyment to any vicious excess. His
situation at the Roman court, being honourable and important, could not
fail of being likewise advantageous, not only from the imperial profusion
common at that time, but from many contingent emoluments which his
extensive interest and patronage would naturally afford him. He was born
of a respectable rank, lived in habits of familiar intercourse with
persons of the first distinction, and if, in the course of his attendance
upon Nero, he had acquired a large fortune, no blame could justly attach
to his conduct in maintaining an elegant hospitality. The imputation of
luxury was thrown upon him from two quarters, viz, by the dissolute
companions of Nero, to whom the mention of such an example served as an
apology for their own extreme dissipation; (392) and by those who envied
him for the affluence and dignity which he had acquired. The charge,
however, is supported only by vague assertion, and is discredited by
every consideration which ought to have weight in determining the reality
of human characters. It seems totally inconsistent with his habits of
literary industry, with the virtuous sentiments which he every where
strenuously maintains, and the esteem with which he was regarded by a
numerous acquaintance, as a philosopher and a moralist.
The writings of Seneca have been traduced almost equally with his manner
of living, though in both he has a claim to indulgence, from the fashion
of the times. He is more studious of minute embellishments in style than
the writers of the Augustan age; and the didactic strain, in which he
mostly prosecutes his subjects, has a tendency to render him sententious;
but the expression of his thoughts is neither enfeebled by decoration,
nor involved in obscurity by conciseness. He is not more rich in
artificial ornament than in moral admonition. Seneca has been charged
with depreciating former writers, to render himself more conspicuous; a
charge which, so far as appears from his writings, is founded rather in
negative than positive testimony. He has not endeavoured to establish
his fame by any affectation of singularity in doctrine; and while he
passes over in silence the names of illustrious authors, he avails
himself with judgment of the most valuable stores with which they had
enriched philosophy. On the whole, he is an author whose principles may
be adopted not only with safety, but great advantage; and his writings
merit a degree of consideration, superior to what they have hitherto ever
enjoyed in the literary world.
Seneca, besides his prose works, was the author of some tragedies. The
Medea, the Troas, and the Hippolytus, are ascribed to him. His father is
said to have written the Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Agamemnon, and
Hercules Oetaeus. The three remaining tragedies, the Thebais, Oedipus,
and Octavia, usually published in the same collection with the seven
preceding, are supposed to be the productions of other authors, but of
whom, is uncertain. These several pieces are written in a neat style;
the plots and characters are conducted with an attention to probability
and nature: but none of them is so forcible, in point of tragical
distress, as to excite in the reader any great degree of emotion.----
PETRONIUS was a Roman knight, and apparently of considerable fortune. In
his youth he seems to have given great application to polite literature,
in which he acquired a justness of taste, as well as an elegance of
composition. Early initiated in the gaieties (393) of fashionable life,
he contracted a habit of voluptuousness which rendered him an
accommodating companion to the dissipated and the luxurious. The court
of Claudius, entirely governed for some time by Messalina, was then the
residence of pleasure; and here Petronius failed not of making a
conspicuous appearance. More delicate, however, than sensual, he rather
joined in the dissipation, than indulged in the vices of the palace. To
interrupt a course of life too uniform to afford him perpetual
satisfaction, he accepted of the proconsulship of Bithynia, and went to
that province, where he discharged the duties of his office with great
credit. Upon his return to Rome, Nero, who had succeeded Claudius, made
him consul, in recompense of his services. This new dignity, by giving
him frequent and easy access to the emperor, created an intimacy between
them, which was increased to friendship and esteem on the side of Nero,
by the elegant entertainments often given him by Petronius. In a short
time, this gay voluptuary became so much a favourite at court, that
nothing was agreeable but what was approved by Petronius and the
authority which he acquired, by being umpire in whatever related to the
economy of gay dissipation, procured him the title of Arbiter
elegantiarum. Things continued in this state whilst the emperor kept
within the bounds of moderation; and Petronius acted as intendant of his
pleasures, ordering him shows, games, comedies, music, feats, and all
that could contribute to make the hours of relaxation pass agreeably;
seasoning, at the same time, the innocent delights which he procured for
the emperor with every possible charm, to prevent him from seeking after
such as might prove pernicious both to morals and the republic. Nero,
however, giving way to his own disposition, which was naturally vicious,
at length changed his conduct, not only in regard to the government of
the empire, but of himself and listening to other counsels than those of
Petronius, gave the entire reins to his passions, which afterwards
plunged him in ruin. The emperor’s new favourite was Tigellinus, a man
of the most profligate morals, who omitted nothing that could gratify the
inordinate appetites of his prince, at the expense of all decency and
virtue. During this period, Petronius gave vent to his indignation, in
the satire transmitted under his name by the title of Satyricon. But his
total retirement from court did not secure him from the artifices of
Tigellinus, who laboured with all his power to destroy the man whom he
had industriously supplanted in the emperor’s favour. With this view he
insinuated to Nero, that Petronius was too intimately connected with
Scevinus not to be engaged in Piso’s conspiracy; and, to support his
calumny, caused the emperor to be present at the examination (394) of one
of Petronius’s slaves, whom he had secretly suborned to swear against his
master. After this transaction, to deprive Petronius of all means of
justifying himself, they threw into prison the greatest part of his
domestics. Nero embraced with joy the opportunity of removing a man, to
whom he knew the present manners of the court were utterly obnoxious, and
he soon after issued orders for arresting Petronius. As it required,
however, some time to deliberate whether they should put a person of his
consideration to death, without more evident proofs of the charges
preferred against him, such was his disgust at living in the power of so
detestable and capricious a tyrant, that he resolved to die. For this
purpose, making choice of the same expedient which had been adopted by
Seneca, he caused his veins to be opened, but he closed them again, for a
little time, that he might enjoy the conversation of his friends, who
came to see him in his last moments. He desired them, it is said, to
entertain him, not with discourses on the immortality of the soul, or the
consolation of philosophy, but with agreeable tales and poetic
gallantries. Disdaining to imitate the servility of those who, dying by
the orders of Nero, yet made him their heir, and filled their wills with
encomiums on the tyrant and his favourites, he broke to pieces a goblet
of precious stones, out of which he had commonly drank, that Nero, who he
knew would seize upon it after his death, might not have the pleasure of
using it. As the only present suitable to such a prince, he sent him,
under a sealed cover, his Satyricon, written purposely against him; and
then broke his signet, that it might not, after his death, become the
means of accusation against the person in whose custody it should be
found.
The Satyricon of Petronius is one of the most curious productions in the
Latin language. Novel in its nature, and without any parallel in the
works of antiquity, some have imagined it to be a spurious composition,
fabricated about the time of the revival of learning in Europe. This
conjecture, however, is not more destitute of support, than repugnant to
the most circumstantial evidence in favour of its authenticity. Others,
admitting the work to be a production of the age of Nero, have questioned
the design with which it was written, and have consequently imputed to
the author a most immoral intention. Some of the scenes, incidents, and
characters, are of so extraordinary a nature, that the description of
them, without a particular application, must have been regarded as
extremely whimsical, and the work, notwithstanding its ingenuity, has
been doomed to perpetual oblivion: but history justifies the belief, that
in the court of Nero, the extravagancies mentioned by Petronius were
realized (395) to a degree which authenticates the representation given
of them. The inimitable character of Trimalchio, which exhibits a person
sunk in the most debauched effeminacy, was drawn for Nero; and we are
assured, that there were formerly medals of that emperor, with these
words, C. Nero August. Imp., and on the reverse, Trimalchio. The various
characters are well discriminated, and supported with admirable
propriety. Never was such licentiousness of description united to such
delicacy of colouring. The force of the satire consists not in poignancy
of sentiment, but in the ridicule which arises from the whimsical, but
characteristic and faithful exhibition of the objects introduced. That
Nero was struck with the justness of the representation, is evident from
the displeasure which he showed, at finding Petronius so well acquainted
with his infamous excesses. After levelling his suspicion on all who
could possibly have betrayed him, he at last fixed on a senator’s wife,
named Silia, who bore a part in his revels, and was an intimate friend of
Petronius upon which she was immediately sent into banishment. Amongst
the miscellaneous materials in this work, are some pieces of poetry,
written in an elegant taste. A poem on the civil war between Caesar and
Pompey, is beautiful and animated.
Though the Muses appear to have been mostly in a quiescent state from the
time of Augustus, we find from Petronius Arbiter, who exhibits the
manners of the capital during the reign of Nero, that poetry still
continued to be a favourite pursuit amongst the Romans, and one to which,
indeed, they seem to have had a national propensity.
--------Ecce inter pocula quaerunt
Romulidae saturi, quid dia poemata narrent.--Persius, Sat. i. 30.
----Nay, more! Our nobles, gorged, and swilled with wine,
Call o’er the banquet for a lay divine!--Gifford.
It was cultivated as a kind of fashionable exercise, in short and
desultory attempts, in which the chief ambition was to produce verses
extempore. They were publicly recited by their authors with great
ostentation; and a favourable verdict from an audience, however partial,
and frequently obtained either by intrigue or bribery, was construed by
those frivolous pretenders into a real adjudication of poetical fame.
The custom of publicly reciting poetical compositions, with the view of
obtaining the opinion of the hearers concerning them, and for which
purpose Augustus had built the Temple of Apollo, was well calculated for
the improvement of taste and judgment, as well as the excitement of
emulation; but, conducted as it now was, it led to a general degradation
of poetry. Barbarism in (396) language, and a corruption of taste, were
the natural consequences of this practice, while the judgment of the
multitude was either blind or venal, and while public approbation
sanctioned the crudities of hasty composition. There arose, however, in
this period, some candidates for the bays, who carried their efforts
beyond the narrow limits which custom and inadequate genius prescribed to
the poetical exertions of their contemporaries. Amongst these were Lucan
and Persius.----
LUCAN was the son of Annaeus Mela, the brother of Seneca, the
philosopher. He was born at Corduba, the original residence of the
family, but came early to Rome, where his promising talents, and the
patronage of his uncle, recommended him to the favour of Nero; by whom he
was raised to the dignity of an augur and quaestor before he had attained
the usual age. Prompted by the desire of displaying his political
abilities, he had the imprudence to engage in a competition with his
imperial patron. The subject chosen by Nero was the tragical fate of
Niobe; and that of Lucan was Orpheus. The ease with which the latter
obtained the victory in the contest, excited the jealousy of the emperor,
who resolved upon depressing his rising genius. With this view, he
exposed him daily to the mortification of fresh insults, until at last
the poet’s resentment was so much provoked, that he entered into the
conspiracy of Piso for cutting off the tyrant. The plot being
discovered, there remained for the unfortunate Lucan no hope of pardon:
and choosing the same mode of death which was employed by his uncle, he
had his veins opened, while he sat in a warm bath, and expired in
pronouncing with great emphasis the following lines in his Pharsalia:--
Scinditur avulsus; nec sicut vulnere sanguis
Emicuit lentus: ruptis cadit undique venis;
Discursusque animae diversa in membra meantis
Interceptus aquis, nullius, vita perempti
Est tanta dimissa via.--Lib. iii. 638.
----Asunder flies the man.
No single wound the gaping rupture seems,
Where trickling crimson flows in tender streams;
But from an opening horrible and wide
A thousand vessels pour the bursting tide;
At once the winding channel’s course was broke,
Where wandering life her mazy journey took.--Rowe.
Some authors have said that he betrayed pusillanimity at the hour of
death; and that, to save himself from punishment, he (397) accused his
mother of being involved in the conspiracy. This circumstance, however,
is not mentioned by other writers, who relate, on the contrary, that he
died with philosophical fortitude. He was then only in the twenty-sixth
year of his age.
Lucan had scarcely reached the age of puberty when he wrote a poem on the
contest between Hector and Achilles. He also composed in his youth a
poem on the burning of Rome; but his only surviving work is the
Pharsalia, written on the civil war between Caesar and Pompey. This
poem, consisting of ten books, is unfinished, and its character has been
more depreciated than that of any other production of antiquity. In the
plan of the poem, the author prosecutes the different events in the civil
war, beginning his narrative at the passage of the Rubicon by Caesar. He
invokes not the muses, nor engages any gods in the dispute; but
endeavours to support an epic dignity by vigour of sentiment, and
splendour of description. The horrors of civil war, and the importance
of a contest which was to determine the fate of Rome and the empire of
the world, are displayed with variety of colouring, and great energy of
expression. In the description of scenes, and the recital of heroic
actions, the author discovers a strong and lively imagination; while, in
those parts of the work which are addressed either to the understanding
or the passions, he is bold, figurative, and animated. Indulging too
much in amplification, he is apt to tire with prolixity; but in all his
excursions he is ardent, elevated, impressive, and often brilliant. His
versification has not the smoothness which we admire in the compositions
of Virgil, and his language is often involved in the intricacies of
technical construction: but with all his defects, his beauties are
numerous; and he discovers a greater degree of merit than is commonly
found in the productions of a poet of twenty-six years of age, at which
time he died.----
PERSIUS was born at Volaterrae, of an equestrian family, about the
beginning of the Christian aera. His father dying when he was six years
old, he was left to the care of his mother, for whom and for his sisters
he expresses the warmest affection. At the age of twelve he came to
Rome, where, after attending a course of grammar and rhetoric under the
respective masters of those branches of education, he placed himself
under the tuition of Annaeus Cornutus, a celebrated stoic philosopher of
that time. There subsisted between him and this preceptor so great a
friendship, that at his death, which happened in the twenty-ninth year of
his age, he bequeathed to Cornutus a handsome sum of money, and his
library. The latter, however, accepting only the books, left the money
to Persius’s sisters.
Priscian, Quintilian, and other ancient writers, spear of Persius’s
satires as consisting of a book without any division. They have since,
however, been generally divided into six different satires, but by some
only into five. The subjects of these compositions are, the vanity of
the poets in his time; the backwardness of youth to the cultivation of
moral science; ignorance and temerity in political administration,
chiefly in allusion to the government of Nero: the fifth satire is
employed in evincing that the wise man also is free; in discussing which
point, the author adopts the observations used by Horace on the same
subject. The last satire of Persius is directed against avarice. In the
fifth, we meet with a beautiful address to Cornutus, whom the author
celebrates for his amiable virtues, and peculiar talents for teaching.
The following lines, at the same time that they show how diligently the
preceptor and his pupil were employed through the whole day in the
cultivation of moral science, afford a more agreeable picture of domestic
comfort and philosophical conviviality, than might be expected in the
family of a rigid stoic:
Tecum etenim longos memini consumere soles,
Et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes.
Unum opus, et requiem pariter disponimus ambo:
Atque verecunda laxamus feria mensa.--Sat. v.
Can I forget how many a summer’s day,
Spent in your converse, stole, unmarked, away?
Or how, while listening with increased delight,
I snatched from feasts the earlier hours of night?--Gifford.
The satires of Persius are written in a free, expostulatory, and
argumentative manner; possessing the same justness of sentiment as those
of Horace, but exerted in the way of derision, and not with the admirable
raillery of that facetious author. They are regarded by many as obscure;
but this imputation arises more from unacquaintance with the characters
and manners to which the author alludes, than from any peculiarity either
in his language or composition. His versification is harmonious; and we
have only to remark, in addition to similar examples in other Latin
writers, that, though Persius is acknowledged to have been both virtuous
and modest, there are in the fourth satire a few passages which cannot
decently admit of being translated. Such was the freedom of the Romans,
in the use of some expressions, which just refinement has now exploded.--
Another poet, in this period, was FABRICIUS VEIENTO, who wrote a severe
satire against the priests of his time; as also one (399) against the
senators, for corruption in their judicial capacity. Nothing remains of
either of those productions; but, for the latter, the author was banished
by Nero.
There now likewise flourished a lyric poet, CAESIUS BASSUS, to whom
Persius has addressed his sixth satire. He is said to have been, next to
Horace, the best lyric poet among the Romans; but of his various
compositions, only a few inconsiderable fragments are preserved.
To the two poets now mentioned must be added POMPONIUS SECUNDUS, a man of
distinguished rank in the army, and who obtained the honour of a triumph
for a victory over a tribe of barbarians in Germany. He wrote several
tragedies, which in the judgment of Quintilian, were beautiful
compositions.