CHAPTER XI.

LUCRETIUS.--PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

It is in keeping with the isolated and independent position which

Lucretius occupies in literature, that so little is known of his life.

The two kinds of information available for literary biography,--that

afforded by the author himself, and that derived from contemporaries,

or from later writers who had access to contemporary testimony,--almost

entirely fail us in his case. The form of poetry adopted by him

prevented his speaking of himself and telling his own history, as

Catullus, Horace, Ovid, etc., have done in their lyrical, elegiac, and

familiar writings. His work appears to have been first published after

his death: nor is there any reason to believe that he attracted the

attention of the world in his lifetime. To judge from the silence of

his contemporaries, and from the attitude of mind indicated in his

poem, the words 'moriens natusque fefellit' might almost be written as

his epitaph. Had he been prominent in the social or literary circles

of Rome during the years in which he was engaged on the composition of

his poem, some traces of him must have been found in the correspondence

of Cicero or in the poems of Catullus, which bring the personal life

of those years so close to modern readers. It is thus impossible to

ascertain on what original authority the sole traditional account of

him preserved in the Chronicle of Jerome was based. That account, like

similar notices of other Roman writers, came to Jerome in all

probability from the lost work of Suetonius, 'de viris illustribus.'

But as to the channels through which it passed to Suetonius, we have

no information.

The well-known statement of Jerome is to this effect,--'The poet

Lucretius was born in the year 94 B.C. He became mad from the

administration of a love-philtre, and after composing, in his lucid

intervals, several books which were afterwards corrected by Cicero, he

died by his own hand in his forty-fourth year.' The date of his death

would thus be 50 B.C. But this date is contradicted by the statement

of Donatus in his life of Virgil, that Lucretius died (he says nothing

of his supposed suicide) on the day on which Virgil assumed the 'toga

virilis,' viz. October 15, 55 B.C. And this date derives confirmation

from the fact that the first notice of the poem appears in a letter

of Cicero to his brother, written in the beginning of 54 B.C. As the

condition in which the poem has reached us confirms the statement that

it was left by the author in an unfinished state, it must have been

given to the world by some other hand after the poet's death; and, as

Mr. Munro observes, we should expect to find that it first attracted

notice some three or four months after that event. We must accordingly

conclude that here, as in many other cases, Jerome has been careless

in his dates, and that Lucretius was either born some years before 94

B.C., or that he died before his forty-fourth year. His most recent

Editors, accordingly, assign his birth to the end of the year 99 B.C.

or the beginning of 98 B.C. He would thus be some seven or eight

years younger than Cicero, three or four years younger than Julius

Caesar[1], about the same age as Memmius to whom the poem is

dedicated, and from about twelve to fifteen years older than Catullus

and the younger poets of that generation[2].

But is this story of the poet's liability to fits of derangement, of

the cause assigned for these, of his suicide, and of the correction of

his poem by Cicero, to be accepted as a meagre and, perhaps, distorted

account of certain facts in his history transmitted through some

trustworthy channels, or is it to be rejected as an idle fiction which

may have assumed shape before the time of Suetonius, and been accepted

by him on no other evidence than that of a vague tradition? Though no

certain answer can be given to this question, yet some reasons may be

assigned for according a hesitating acceptance to the main outlines of

the story, or at least for not rejecting it as a transparent fiction.

It may indeed be urged that if this strange and tragical history had

been known to the Augustan poets, who, in greater or less degree,

acknowledge the spell exercised upon them by the genius of Lucretius,

some sympathetic allusion to it would probably have been found in

their writings, such as that in Ovid to the early death of Catullus

and Calvus. It would seem remarkable that in the only personal

reference which Virgil, who had studied his poem profoundly, seems to

make to his predecessor, he characterises him merely as 'fortunate in

his triumph over supernatural terrors.' But, not to press an argument

based on the silence of those who lived near the poet's time, and who,

from their recognition of his genius might have been expected to

be interested in his fate, the sensational character of the story

justifies some suspicion of its authenticity. The mysterious efficacy

attributed to a love-philtre is more in accordance with vulgar

credulity than with experience. The supposition that the poem, or

any considerable portion of it, was written in the lucid intervals of

derangement seems hardly consistent with the evidence of the supreme

control of reason through all its processes of thought. The impression

both of impiety and melancholy which the poem was likely to produce

on ordinary minds, especially after the religious reaction of the

Augustan age, might easily have suggested this tale of madness and

suicide as a natural consequence of, or fitting retribution for, such

absolute separation from the common hopes and fears of mankind[3].

Yet indications in the poem itself have been pointed out which might

incline us to accept the story rather as a meagre tradition of some

tragic circumstances in the poet's history, than as the idle invention

of an uncritical age. The unrelieved intensity of thought and

feeling, by which more almost than any other work of literature it is

characterised, seems indicative of an overstrain of power, which

may well have caused the loss or eclipse of what to the poet was the

sustaining light and joy of his life[4]. Under such a calamity

it would have been quite in accordance with the principles of his

philosophy to seek refuge in self-destruction, and to imitate an

example which he notes in the case of another speculative thinker, on

becoming conscious of failing intellectual power[5]. But this general

sense of overstrained tension of thought and feeling is, as was first

pointed out by his English Editor, much intensified by references in

the poem (as at i. 32; iv. 33, etc.), to the horror produced on

the mind by apparitions seen in dreams and waking visions[6]. 'The

emphatic repetition,' says Mr. Munro, 'of these horrid visions seen

in sickness might seem to confirm what is related of the poet being

subject to fits of delirium or disordering sickness of some sort.' He

further shows by quotation from Suetonius' 'Life of Caligula,' that

such mental conditions were attributed to the administration of

a love-philtre. The coincidence in these recorded cases may imply

nothing more than the credulity of Suetonius, or of the authorities

whom he followed: but it is conceivable that Lucretius may have

himself attributed what was either a disorder of his own constitution,

or the result of a prolonged overstrain of mind, to the effects of

some powerful drug taken by him in ignorance[7].

Thus, while the statement of Jerome admits neither of verification nor

refutation, it may be admitted that there are indications in the poem

of a great tension of mind, of an extreme vividness of sensibility, of

an indifference to life, and, in the later books, of some failure

in the power of organising his materials, which incline us rather to

accept the story as a meagre and distorted record of tragical events

in the poet's life, than as a literary myth which took shape out of

the feelings excited by the poem in a later age. Yet this qualified

acquiescence in the tradition does not involve the belief that

any considerable portion of the poem was written 'per intervalla

insaniae,' or that the disorder from which the poet suffered was

actually the effect of a love-philtre.

The statement involved in the words 'quos Cicero emendavit,' has also

been the subject of much criticism. No one can read the poem without

recognising the truth of the conclusion established by Lachmann, and

accepted by the most competent Editors of the poem since his time,

that the work must have been left by the author in an unfinished state

and given to the world by some friend or some person to whom the task

of editing it had been entrusted. But there is some difficulty in

accepting the statement that this editor was Cicero. His silence on

the subject of his editorial labours, when contrasted with the frank

communicativeness of his Epistles in regard to anything which for the

time interested him, and the slight esteem with which he regarded the

philosophy which is embodied in the poem, justify some hesitation in

accepting the authority of Jerome on this point also. He only once

mentions the poem in a letter to his brother Quintus[8], and in

passages of his philosophical works in which he seems to allude to it

he expresses himself slightingly and somewhat contemptuously[9]. In

the disparaging references to the Latin writers on Greek philosophy

before the appearance of his own Tusculan Questions and Academics, he

makes no exception in favour of Lucretius. The words in his letter

to his brother Quintus are these, 'Lucretii poemata, ut scribis, ita

sunt, multis luminibus ingenii, multae tamen artis: sed cum veneris,

virum te putabo, si Sallustii Empedoclea legeris, hominem non putabo.'

Professor Tyrrell in his 'Correspondence of Cicero,' remarks on this

passage (vol. II. page 106): 'The criticism of Quintus, with which

Cicero expresses his accord, was that Lucretius had not only much of

the _genius_ of Ennius and Attius, but also much of the _art_ of the

poets of the new school, among them even Catullus, who are fashioning

themselves on the model of the Alexandrine poets, especially

Callimachus and Euphorion of Chalcis. This new school Cicero refers

to as the [Greek: neoteroi] (Att. VII. 2. 1) and as _hi cantores

Euphorionis_ (Tusc. III. 45). Their _ars_ seemed to Cicero almost

incompatible with the _ingenium_ of the old school. This criticism on

Lucretius is not only quite just from Cicero's point of view, but it

is most pointed. Yet the editors from Victorius to Klotz will not let

Cicero say what he thought. They insert a _non_ either before _multis_

or before _multae_, and thus deny him either _ingenium_ or _ars_. The

point of the judgment is that Lucretius shows the genius of the old

school and (what might seem to be incompatible with it) the art of

the new[10].' Thus if his notice of the poem is slight, it is not

deficient in appreciation. Mr. Munro succeeds in explaining Cicero's

silence on the subject in his other correspondence. It is in his

Letters to his oldest and most intimate correspondent, the Epicurean

Atticus, that we should expect to find notices of his editorial

labours. It was a task on which Atticus might have given most valuable

help from his large employment of educated slaves in the copying of

manuscripts. Cicero's silence on the subject in the Letters to Atticus

is fully explained by the fact that they were both in Rome during

the greater part of the time between the death of Lucretius and the

publication of his poem. Again, Cicero's strong opposition to the

Epicurean doctrines was not incompatible with the closest

friendship with many who professed them; and this opposition was not

conspicuously declared till some years after this time. Lucretius

would have sympathised with Cicero's political attitude, as he appears

to commend Memmius for adopting a similar attitude in his Praetorship,

and he must have known that Cicero was the man of widest literary

culture then living. There is thus no great difficulty in supposing

that the work of even so uncompromising a partisan as Lucretius should

have been placed, either by his own request or by the wish of his

friends, in the hands of one who was not attracted to it either by

strong poetical or philosophical sympathy. The energetic kindliness

of Cicero's nature, and his active interest in literature, would have

prompted him not to decline the service if he were asked to render it.

Thus, although on this point too our judgment may well be suspended,

we may think with pleasure of the good-will and kindly offices of the

most humane and energetic among Roman writers, as exercised in behalf

of Lucretius after his untimely death.

This is all the direct external evidence available for the personal

history of Lucretius. It is remarkable, when compared with the

information given in his other notices, that the record of Jerome does

not even mention the poet's birth-place. This may be explained on the

supposition either that the authorities followed by Jerome knew very

little about him, or that, if he were born at Rome, there would not be

the same motive for giving prominence to the place of his birth, as

in the case of poets and men of letters who brought honour to the less

famous districts of Italy. While Lucretius applies the word _patria_

to the Roman State ('patriai tempore iniquo'), and the adjective

_patrius_ to the Latin language, these words are used by other Roman

poets,--Ennius and Virgil for instance,--in reference to their own

provincial homes. The Gentile name Lucretius was one eminently Roman,

nor is there ground for believing that, like the equally ancient and

noble name borne by the other great poet of the age, it had become

common in other parts of Italy. The name suggests the inference that

Lucretius was descended from one of the most ancient patrician houses

of Rome, but one, as is pointed out by Mr. Munro, more famous in the

legendary than in the later annals of the Republic. Some members

of the same house are mentioned in the letters of Cicero among the

partisans of Pompey: and possibly the Lucretius Ofella, who was one of

the victims of Sulla's tyranny, may have been connected with the poet.

As the position indicated by the whole tone of the poem is that of a

man living in easy circumstances, and of one, who, though repelled

by it, was yet familiar with the life of pleasure and luxury, he must

have belonged either to a senatorian family, or to one of the richer

equestrian families, the members of which, if not engaged in financial

and commercial affairs, often lived the life of country gentlemen

on their estates and employed their leisure in the cultivation of

literature. The tone of the dedication to Memmius, a member of a noble

plebeian house, and of the occasional addresses to him in the body of

the poem, is not that of a client to a patron, but of an equal to an

equal:--

Sed tua me virtus tamen et sperata voluptas

Suavis amicitiae--.

While Lucretius pays the tribute of admiration to the literary

accomplishment of his friend, and to the active part which he played

in politics, he yet addresses him with the authority of a master. In

a society constituted as that of Rome was in the last age of the

Republic this tone could only be assumed to a member of the

governing class by a social equal. Memmius combined the pursuits of

a politician, a man of letters, and a man of pleasure; and in none of

these capacities does he seem to have been worthy of the affection and

admiration of Lucretius. But as he filled the office of Praetor in the

year 58 B.C.[11] it may be inferred that he and the poet were about

the same age, and thus the original bond between them may probably

have been that of early education and literary sympathies. That

Memmius retained a taste for poetry amid the pursuits and pleasures of

his profligate career is shown by the fact that he was the author of a

volume of amatory poems, and also by his taking with him, in the

year 57 B.C., the poets Helvius Cinna and Catullus, on his staff

to Bithynia. The keen discernment of the younger poet, sharpened by

personal animosity, formed a truer estimate of his chief, than that

expressed by the philosophic enthusiast. But at the time in which the

words--

Nec Memmi clara propago

Talibus in rebus communi deesse saluti--

were written, even Cicero regarded him as one of the bulwarks of the

senatorian cause against Clodius and his influential supporters. And

neither the scandal of his private nor of his public life prevented

his being in later years among the orator's correspondents.

This relation to Memmius is the only additional fact which an

examination of the poem brings into light. Nothing is learned from

it of the poet's parentage, his education, his favourite places of

residence, of his career, of his good or evil fortune. There were

eminent Epicurean teachers at Athens and Rome (Patro, Phaedrus,

Philodemus, etc.) during his youth and manhood, but it is useless to

ask what influence of teachers or personal experience induced him

to become so passionate a devotee of the doctrines of Epicurus.

Yet though no direct reference to his circumstances is found in his

writings, we may yet mark indirect traces of the impression produced

upon him by the age in which his youth and manhood were passed; we

seem to catch some glimpses of his habitual pursuits and tastes, to

gain some real insight into his being, to apprehend the attitude in

which he stood to the great teachers of the past, and to know the

man by knowing the objects in life which most deeply interested him.

Nothing, we may well believe, was further from his wish or intention

than to leave behind him any record of himself. No Roman poet has

so entirely sunk himself and the remembrance of his own fortunes

in absorption in his subject. But his strong personal force and

individuality have penetrated deeply into all his representation, his

reasoning, and his exhortation. From the beginning to the end of the

poem we feel that we are listening to a living voice speaking to us

with the direct impressiveness of personal experience and conviction.

No writer ever used words more clearly or more sincerely: no one shows

a greater scorn for the rhetorical artifices which disguise the lack

of meaning or insinuate a false conclusion by fine-sounding phrases:--

Quae belle tangere possunt

Auris et lepido quae sunt fucata sonore[12].

The union of an original and independent personality with the utmost

sincerity of thought and speech is a characteristic in which Lucretius

resembles Thucydides. It is this which gives to the works of both,

notwithstanding their studied self-suppression, the vivid interest of

a direct personal revelation.

The tone of many passages in the poem clearly indicates that

Lucretius, though taking no personal part in the active politics of

his age, was profoundly moved by the effects which they produced on

human happiness and character. Thus the lines at iii. 70-74--

Sanguine civili rem conflant, etc.--

recall the thought and spectacle of crime and bloodshed vividly

presented to him in the impressible years of his youth[12]. Other

passages are an immediate reflexion of the disturbance and alarm of

the times in which the poem was written. Thus the opening lines of

the second book, which contrast the security of the contemplative

life with the strife of political and military ambition, seem to

be suggested by the action of what is sometimes called the first

triumvirate. The lines--

Si non forte tuas legiones per loca campi, etc.--

have been noted[14] as a probable allusion to the position actually

taken up by Julius Caesar outside of Rome in the opening months of the

year 58 B.C. Some earlier lines of the same passage--

Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate,

Noctes atque dies niti praestante labore

Ad summas emergere opes rerumque potiri,--

have a resemblance to words directly applied by Cicero to Caesar[15],

and are certainly more applicable to him than to any other of the

poet's contemporaries. The political reflexions in the poem, as for

instance that at v. 1123, seem, in almost all cases, to be forced from

him by the memory of the first civil war, or the vague dread of that

which was impending. It is not from any effeminate recoil from danger,

but rather from horror of the turbulence, disorder, and crimes against

the sanctities of human life, involved in the strife of ambition, that

Lucretius preaches the lessons of political quietism. And while his

humanity of feeling makes him shrink from the prospect of evil days,

like those which he well remembered, again awaiting his country, his

capacity for pure and simple pleasures makes him equally shrink from

the spectacle of prodigal luxury which Rome then presented in a degree

never before witnessed in the world.

Thus the first general impression of Lucretius which we form from his

poem is that of one who, from a strong distaste to the life of

action and social pleasure, deliberately chose the life of

contemplation,--the 'fallentis semita vitae.' Some illustrations of

his argument--as, for instance, a description of the state of mental

tension produced by witnessing public games and spectacles for many

days in succession[16], of the reflexion of the colours cast on the

stage by the awnings of the theatre[17], of the works of art adorning

the houses of the great[18], etc.--imply that he had not always been

a stranger to the enjoyments of city life, and that they attracted

him by a certain fascination of pomp and novelty. His pictures of

the follies of the 'jeunesse doree' (at iv. 1121, etc.), and of sated

luxury (at iii. 1060, etc.), show that he had been a witness of the

conditions of life out of which they were engendered. At iv. 784,

in speaking of the power of the mind to call up images, he specifies

'conventus hominum, pompam, convivia, pugnas.' But such illustrations

are rare when compared with those which speak of a life passed in the

open air, and of intimate familiarity with many aspects of Nature. The

vivid minuteness with which outward things are described, as well as

the occasional use of such words as _vidi_[19], show that though a few

of the sights observed by him may have been drawn from the physics

of Epicurus[20], the great mass of them had either been originally

observed by himself or at least had been verified in his own

experience. He was endowed not only with the poet's susceptibility

to the beauty and movement of the outward world, but also with the

observing faculty and curiosity of a naturalist: and by both impulses

he was more attracted to the solitudes of Nature than to the haunts of

men. Many bright illustrations of his argument tell of hours spent by

the sea shore. Thus he notes minutely the effect of the exhalations

from the salt water in wearing away rocks and walls (i. 336; iv. 220),

of the invisible influence of the sea-air in producing moisture in

clothes (i. 305; vi. 472), or a salt taste in the mouth (iv. 222), of

the varied forms of shells paving the shore (ii. 374), of the sudden

change of colour when the winds raise the white crest of the waves

(ii. 765), of the appearance of sky and water produced by a black

storm-cloud passing over the sea (vi. 256). Other passages show his

familiarity with inland scenes,--with the violent rush of rivers in

flood (i. 280, etc.), or their stately flow through fresh meadows (ii.

362), or their ceaseless unperceived action in eating away their banks

(v. 256);--or again, with all the processes of husbandry, the growth

of plants and trees, the ways of flocks and herds in their pastures,

and the sounds and sights of the pathless woods. While he anticipates

Virgil in his Italian love of peaceful landscape, he shows some

foretaste of the modern passion for the mountains,--as (at ii. 331)

where he speaks of 'some spot among the lofty hills,' commanding a

distant view of a wide expanse of plain, and (at iv. 575) where he

recalls the memory of wanderings among mountain solitudes--

Palantis comites cum montis inter opacos

Quaerimus et magna dispersos voce ciemus,--

and (at vi. 469) where he notices the more powerful action of the wind

on the movements of the clouds at high altitudes--

Nam loca declarat sursum ventosa patere

Res ipsa et sensus, montis cum ascendimus altos.

Even some of the metaphorical phrases in which he figures forth the

pursuit of truth seem to be taken from mountain adventure[21]. The

mention of companionship in some of these wanderings, and in other

scenes in which the charm of Nature is represented as enhancing the

enjoyment of a simple meal--

Propter aquae rivum sub ramis arboris altae,--

enables us to think of him as, although isolated in his thoughts from

other men, yet not separated from them in the daily intercourse of

life by any unsocial austerity. Such separation would have been quite

opposed both to the teaching and the example of his master. Some

remembrance of active adventure is suggested by illustrations of his

philosophy drawn from the experience of a sea-voyage (iv. 387, etc.,

432), of riding through a rapid stream (iv. 420), of watching the

action of dogs tracking their game through woods and over mountains

(i. 404), or renewing the memories of the chase in their dreams (v.

991, etc.). The lines (at ii. 40, etc., and 323, etc.) show that his

imagination had been moved by witnessing the evolutions of armies,

not indeed in actual warfare, but in the pomp and pageantry of martial

spectacles,--'belli simulacra cientes.' These and many other indirect

indications afford some glimpses of his habitual manner of life and of

the pursuits that gave him most lively pleasure: but they do not give

us any special knowledge of the particular districts of Italy in which

he lived, or of the scenes in foreign lands which he may have visited.

The poem tells us nothing immediately of the trials or passions of his

life, though of both he seems to bear the scars. But as passages in

which he reveals the deep secrets of human passion and suffering prove

him to have been a man of strong, ardent, and vividly susceptible

temperament, so the numerous illustrations drawn from the repertory of

his personal observation tell of an eye trained to take delight in the

outward face of Nature as well as of a mind unwearied in its search

into her hidden laws. One great charm of his work is that it breathes

of the open air more than of the library. If, in dealing with the

problems of human life, his strain--

'Is fraught too deep with pain,'

yet to him too might be applied the lines written of one who, though

not comparable to him in intellectual and imaginative power, yet, in

his spiritual isolation from the world, seems almost like his modern

counterpart--

'And thou hast pleasures too to share

With those who come to thee,

Balms floating on thy mountain air

And healing sights to see[22].'

But we may trust with even more confidence to the indications of his

inner than of his outward life. The spirit and purpose which impelled

Lucretius to expound his philosophy can be understood without any

collateral knowledge of his history. The dominant impulse of his

being is the ardent desire to emancipate human life from the fears and

passions by which it is marred and degraded. He has more of the zeal

of a religious reformer than any other ancient thinker, except one who

in all his ways of life was most unlike him, the Athenian Socrates.

The speculative enthusiasm which bears him along through his argument

is altogether subsidiary to the furtherance of his practical purpose.

Even the poetical power to which the work owes its immortality was

valued chiefly as a pleasing means of instilling the unpalatable

medicine of his philosophy[23] into the minds and hearts of unwilling

hearers. It is the constant presence of this practical purpose, and

the profound sense which he has of the actual misery and degradation

of human life, and of the peace and dignity which are attainable

by man, that impart to his words the peculiar tone of impassioned

earnestness to which there is no parallel in ancient literature.

Among his personal characteristics none is more prominent than his

consciousness both of the greatness of the work on which he was

engaged, and of his own power to cope with it. The passage in which

his high self-confidence is most powerfully proclaimed (i. 920, etc.)

has been imitated both by Virgil and Milton. The sense of novelty,

adventure, and high aspiration expressed in the lines--

Avia Pieridum peragro loca nullius ante

Trita solo--

moved Virgil less powerfully in speaking of his humbler theme--

Sed me Parnassi deserta per ardua dulcis

Raptat amor;

and inspired the English poet in his great invocation:--

'I thence

Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,

That with no middle flight intends to soar

Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.

The sense of difficulty and the joy of overcoming it meet us with

a keen bracing effect in many passages of the poem. He speaks

disdainfully of those enquirers who fall into error by shrinking from

the more adventurous paths that lead to truth--

Ardua dum metuunt amittunt vera viai.

Without disowning the passion for fame,--'laudis spes magna,' so

powerful an incentive to the Roman temperament,--he is more inspired

and supported in his arduous task by 'the sweet love of the Muses.'

The delight in the exercise of his art and the joyful energy sustained

through the long processes of gathering and arranging his materials

appear in such passages as iii. 419-20:--

Conquisita diu dulcique reperta labore

Digna tua pergam disponere carmina cura:

and again at ii. 730--

Nunc age dicta meo dulci quaesita labore

Percipe.

The thoroughness and devotion of a student tell their own tale in such

expressions as the 'studio disposta fideli,' and the 'noctes vigilare

serenas' in the dedication to Memmius, and in the more enthusiastic

acknowledgment of the source from which he drew his philosophy at iii.

29, etc.--

Tuisque ex, inclute, chartis,

Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia libant,

Omnia nos itidem depascimur aurea dicta.

The absorbing interest with which he carried on the work of enquiry

and of composition appears in illustrations of his argument drawn from

his own pursuits; as where (ii. 979) in arguing that, if the atoms

have the properties of sense, those of which man is compounded must

have the intellectual attributes of man, he says,--

Multaque de rerum mixtura dicere callent

Et sibi proporro quae sint primordia quaerunt[24];

and, again (at iv. 969), in explaining how men in their dreams seem to

carry on the pursuits to which they are most devoted, how lawyers seem

to plead their causes, generals to fight their battles over again,

sailors to contend with the elements, he adds these lines:--

Nos agere hoc autem et naturam quaerere rerum

Semper et inventam patriis exponere chartis[25].

His frequent use of the sacrificial phrase 'Hoc age,' affords evidence

of the religious earnestness with which he had devoted himself to his

task.

The feeling animating him through all his great adventure,--through

the wastest flats as well as the most commanding heights over which it

leads him,--is something different from the delight of a poet in his

art, of a scholar in his books, of a philosopher in his thought, of

a naturalist in his observation. All of these modes of feeling are

combined with the passion of his whole moral and intellectual being,

aroused by the contemplation of the greatest of all themes--'maiestas

cognita rerum'--and concentrated on the greatest of practical

ends, the emancipation and elevation of human life. The life of

contemplation which he alone among the Romans deliberately chose and

realised he carried out with Roman energy and fortitude. It was with

him no life of indolent musing, but one of thought and study, varied

and braced by original observation. It was a life, also, of strenuous

literary effort employed in giving clearness to obscure materials,

and in eliciting poetical charm from a language to which the musical

cadences of verse had been hitherto almost unknown. Above all, it was

the life of one who, while feeling the spell of Nature more profoundly

than any poet who had gone before him, did not in that new rapture

forget

'The human heart by which we live.'

His high intellectual confidence, based on his firm trust in his

master, shows itself in a spirit of intolerance towards the school

which was the chief antagonist of Epicureanism at Rome. His argument

is a vigorous protest against philosophical error and scepticism,

as well as against popular ignorance and superstition. His polemical

attitude is seen in the frequent use of such expressions as 'vinco,'

'dede manus,' etc., addressed to an imaginary opponent. Discussion of

topics, not apparently necessary to his main argument, is raised with

the object of carrying the war into the enemy's camp. Such frequently

recurring expressions as 'ut quidam fingunt,' 'perdelirum esse

videtur,' etc., are invariably aimed at the Stoics[26]. Of other early

philosophers, even when dissenting from their opinions, he speaks

in terms of admiration and reverence: but Heraclitus, whose physical

explanation of the universe was adopted by the Stoics, is described in

terms of disparagement, levelled as much against his later followers

as against himself, as--

Clarus ob obscuram linguam magis inter inanis

Quamde gravis inter Graios qui vera requirunt.

The traditional opposition between Democritus and Heraclitus lived

after them. Adherence to the doctrine of 'atoms and the void,' and

to that of 'the pure fiery element,' became the symbol of a radical

divergence in the whole view of human life.

While there is frequent allusion to the Stoics in the poem, there is

no direct mention either of them or of their chief teachers, Zeno,

Chrysippus, or Cleanthes. Neither do the greater names of Socrates,

Plato, or Aristotle appear in it, though one or two passages clearly

imply some familiarity with the writings of Plato[27]. But among the

moral teachers of antiquity he acknowledges Epicurus only. The whole

enthusiasm of his temperament breaks out in admiration of him. He

alone is the true interpreter of Nature and conqueror of superstition

(i. 75); the reformer 'who has made pure the human heart' (vi. 24);

the 'guide out of the storms and darkness of life into calm and light'

(iii. 1; v. 11, 12); the 'sun who at his rising extinguished all the

lesser stars' (iii. 1044). He is to be ranked even as a God on account

of his great services to man, in teaching him the mastery over his

fears and passions:--

Deus ille fuit, deus, inclute Memmi[28].

He speaks of his master throughout not only with the affection of

a disciple, but with an emotion akin to religious ecstasy[29]. His

admiration for him springs from a deeper source of spiritual sentiment

than that of Ennius for Scipio, or of Virgil for Augustus. Though

Epicurus inspired much affection in his lifetime, and though

other great writers after Lucretius,--such as Seneca, Juvenal, and

Lucian,--vindicate his name from the dishonour which the perversion of

his doctrines brought upon it, yet even the most favourable criticism

of his life and teaching must find it difficult to sympathise with

the idolatry of Lucretius. Yet his error, if it be one, springs from a

generous source. He attributes his own imaginative interest in Nature

to a philosopher who examined the phenomena of the outward world

merely to find a basis for the destruction of all religious belief.

He saturates with his own deep human feeling a moral system which

professes to secure human happiness by emptying life of its most

sacred associations, most passionate longings, and profoundest

affections.

There was a truer affinity of nature between Lucretius and another

philosopher whom he names with the warmest feelings of love and

veneration--Empedocles of Agrigentum--the most famous of the early

physiological poets of Greece. He flourished during the fifth century

B.C., and was the author of a didactic poem on Nature, of which some

fragments still remain, sufficient to indicate the nature of the work

and the character of the man. These fragments prove that Lucretius had

carefully studied the older poem, and adopted it as his model in using

a poetical form and diction to expound his philosophical system. He

declares, indeed, his opposition to the doctrine of Empedocles, which

traced the origin of all things to four original elements; but he

adopted into his own system many both of his expressions and of his

philosophical ideas. The line in which the Roman poet enunciates his

first principle,--

Nullam rem e nilo gigni divinitus unquam,

was obviously taken from the lines of the old poem [Greek: peri

physeos]--

[Greek:

ek tou gar me eontos amechanon esti genesthai

to t' eon exollysthai anenyston kai aprekton.]

Speaking of Sicily as a rich and wonderful land, Lucretius pays his

tribute of love and admiration to his illustrious predecessor in these

lines,--

Nil tamen hoc habuisse viro praeclarius in se

Nec sanctum magis et mirum carumque videtur.

Carmina quin etiam divini pectoris eius

Vociferantur et exponunt praeclara reperta,

Ut vix humana videatur stirpe creatus[30].

There is a close agreement between the two poetical philosophers in

their imaginative mode of conceiving Nature. They both represented the

principle of beauty and life in the universe under the symbol of the

Goddess of Love--'[Greek: Kypri basileia]'; 'alma Venus, genetrix.'

They both explain the unceasing process of decay and renovation in the

world by an image drawn from the most impressive spectacle of human

life--a mighty battle, waged through all time between opposing forces.

The burden and the mystery of life seem to weigh heavily on both, and

to mould their very language to a deep, monotonous solemnity of tone.

But along with this affinity of temperament there is also a marked

difference in their modes of thought and feeling. The view of Nature

in the philosophy of Empedocles appears to be just emerging out of the

anthropomorphic fancies of an earlier time: the first rays of knowledge

are seen trying to pierce through the clouds of the dawn of enquiry:

the dreams and sorrows of religious mysticism accompany the awakened

energies of the reason. His mournful tone is the voice of the

intellectual spirit lamenting its former home, and baffled in its eager

desire to comprehend 'the whole.' Lucretius, on the other hand, saw the

outward world as it looks in the light of day, neither glorified by the

mystic colours of religion, nor concealed by the shadows of mythology.

He was moved neither by the passionate longing of the soul, nor by the

'divine despair' of the intellect: but he felt profoundly the sorrows

of the heart, and was weighed down by the ever-present consciousness

of the misery and wretchedness in the world. The complaint of the first

is one which has been uttered from time to time by some solitary

thinker in modern as in ancient days:--

[Greek:

pauron de zoes abiou meros athresantes

hokymoroi, kapnoio diken arthentes apeptan,

auto monon peisthentes, hoto prosekursen hekastos,

pantos' elaunomenoi; to d' oulon epeuchetai heurein

autos. out' epiderkta tad' andrasin out' epakousta

oute noo perilepta[31].]

The other gives a real and expressive utterance to that 'thought of

inexhaustible melancholy,' which has weighed on every human heart:--

Miscetur funere vagor

Quem pueri tollunt visentis luminis oras:

Nec nox ulla diem neque noctem aurora secutast

Quae non audierit mixtos vagitibus aegris

Ploratus mortis comites et funeris atri[32].

Besides Epicurus and Empedocles Lucretius mentions Democritus and

Anaxagoras, and speaks even of those whom he confutes as 'making

many happy discoveries by divine inspiration,' and as 'uttering their

responses from the shrine of their own hearts with more holiness

and truth than the Pythia from the tripod and laurel of Apollo.'

The reverence which other men felt in presence of the ceremonies of

religion he feels in presence of the majesty of Nature; and to the

interpreters of her meaning he ascribes the holiness claimed by the

ministers of religion. Thus, to a doctrine of Democritus he applies

the words 'sancta viri sententia.' The divinest faculty in man is

that by which truth is discovered. The highest office of poetry is

to clothe the discoveries of thought with the charm of graceful

expression and musical verse[33].

Of other Greek authors, Homer and Euripides are those of whom we find

most traces in the poem. To the first he awards a high pre-eminence

above all other poets,--

Adde repertores doctrinarum atque leporum,

Adde Heliconiadum comites; quorum unus Homerus

Sceptra potitus eadem aliis sopitu' quietest[34].

The passages in which Lucretius imitates him show how clearly

he recognised his exact vision of outward things, and his true

appreciation of the moral strength and dignity of man. The frequent

imitations of Euripides[35] show that while he felt the spell of

his pathos, he was also attracted by the poetic mould into which the

tragic poet has cast the physical speculations of Anaxagoras. Allusion

is made in tones of indifference or disparagement to other poets of

Greece, as having, in common with the painters of former times, given

shape and substance to the superstitious fancies of mankind. It is

characteristic of his powerful and independent genius, that, unlike

the younger poets of his generation, he adheres to the older

writers of the great days of Greece, and acknowledges no debt to

the Alexandrine School. Although amply furnished with the knowledge

necessary for the performance of his task, he is a poet of original

genius much more than of learning and culture: and he is thus more

drawn to those who acted on him by a kindred power, than to those

who might have served him as models of poetic form or repertories of

poetic illustration. The strength of his understanding attracted him

to some of the great prose-writers of Greece, by whom that quality

is most conspicuously displayed; notably to Thucydides, whom he has

closely followed in his account of the 'Plague at Athens,' and, as has

been shown by Mr. Munro, to Hippocrates. The kind of attraction which

the last of these has for him confirms the criticism of Goethe, that

Lucretius shows the observing faculty of a physician, as well as of a

poet.

The diction and rhythm of the poem, as well as the more direct tribute

of personal acknowledgment[36], prove that he was an admiring student

of his own countryman Ennius, to whom in some qualities of his

temperament and genius he bore a certain resemblance. Many lines,

phrases, and archaic words in Lucretius, such as--

Per gentis Italas hominum quae clara clueret,--

Lumina sis oculis etiam bonus Ancu' reliquit,--

inde super terras fluit agmine dulci,--

multa munita virum vi; caerula caeli Templa; Acherusia templa; luminis

oras; famul infimus; induperator; Graius homo, etc.--

have a clear ring of the old poet. The few allusions to Roman history

in the poem, as, for instance, the line--

Scipiadas, belli fulmen, Carthaginis horror,--

the specification at iii. 833 of the second Punic War as a momentous

crisis in human affairs,--the description at v. 1226 of a great naval

disaster, such as happened in the first Punic War--the introduction

there of elephants into the picture of the pomp and circumstance of

war,--suggest the inference that, just as events and personages of the

earlier history of England live in the imaginations of many English

readers from their representation in the historical plays of

Shakspeare, so the past history of his country lived for Lucretius in

the representation of Ennius. But of the national pride by which

the older poet was animated, the work of Lucretius bears only scanty

traces. The feeling which moved him to identify the puissant energy

pervading the universe with 'the mother of the Aeneadae,' and the

motive of his prayer for peace addressed to that Power,--

Nam neque nos agere hoc patriai tempore iniquo,--

seem indeed to spring from sources of patriotic affection, perhaps all

the deeper because not too loudly proclaimed. But in the body of the

poem his illustrations are taken as frequently from Greek as from

Roman story, from the strangeness of foreign lands as from the beauty

of Italian scenes. The Georgics of Virgil, in the whole conception of

Nature as a living power, and in many special features, owe much to

the imaginative thought of Lucretius; but nothing can be more unlike

the spirit of the older poet than the episodes in which Virgil pours

forth all his Roman feeling and his love of Italy. The height from

which Lucretius contemplates all human history, as 'a procession of

the nations handing on the torch of life from one to another,' is wide

apart from that from which Virgil beholds all the nations of the world

doing homage to the majesty of Rome. The poem of Lucretius breathes

the spirit of a man, apparently indifferent to the ordinary sources of

pleasure and of pride among his countrymen. Living in an era, the most

momentous in its action on the future history of the world, he was

only repelled by its turbulent activity. The contemplation of the

infinite and eternal mass and order of Nature made the issues of

that age and the imperial greatness of his country appear to him as

transient as the events of the old Trojan and Theban wars. To him, as

to the modern poet, whose imagination most nearly resembles his, the

thought of more enduring things had

'Power to make

Our noisy years seem moments in the being

Of the eternal silence.'

But while by his silence on the subject of national glory and his

ardent speculative enthusiasm Lucretius seems to be more of a Greek

than of a Roman, yet no Roman writer possessed in larger measure the

moral temper of the great Republic. He is a truer type of the strong

character and commanding genius of his country than Virgil or Horace.

He has the Roman conquering energy, the Roman reverence for the

majesty of law, the Roman gift for introducing order into a confused

world, the Roman power of impressing his authority on the minds

of men. In his fortitude, his superiority to human weakness, his

seriousness of spirit, his dignity of bearing, he seems to embody the

great Roman qualities 'constantia' and 'gravitas.' If in the force and

sincerity of his own nature he reminds us of the earliest Roman writer

of genius, in these last qualities, the acquired and inherited virtues

of his race, he reminds us of the last representative writer, whose

tone is worthy of the 'Senatus populusque Romanus.' But Lucretius is

much more than a type of the strong Roman qualities. He combines a

poetic freshness of feeling, a love of simple living, an independence

of the world, with a tenderness and breadth of sympathy, and a power

of sounding into the depths of human sorrow, such as only a very few

among the ancients--Homer, Sophocles, Virgil,--and not many among the

poets or thinkers of the modern world have displayed. In no quality

does he rise further above the standard of his age than in his

absolute sincerity and his unswerving devotion to truth[37]. He

combines in himself some of the rarest elements in the Greek and the

Roman temperament,--the Greek ardour of speculation, the Roman's firm

hold on reality. A poet of the age of Julius Caesar, he is animated

by the spirit of an early Greek enquirer. He unites the speculative

passion of the dawn of ancient science with the minute observation of

its meridian; and he applies the imaginative conceptions formed in the

first application of abstract thought to the universe to interpret the

living beauty of the world.

[Footnote 1: According to Mommsen's opinion that Julius Caesar

was born in 102 B.C.]

[Footnote 2: Woltier in Phil. Jahrb. cxxix, referred to in

Schmidt's Catullus, attempts to show by an examination of the

dates assigned for the birth of Lucretius, that he was born in

97 B.C. and died in 53 B.C. But the most definite statement

we have is that he died on the day in which Virgil assumed

the _toga virilis_, and that was in the second consulship of

Pompey and Crassus, i.e. 55 B.C. Besides both tradition and

internal evidence lead to the conclusion that his poem was not

given to the world till after his death, and it certainly had

been read by both the Ciceros early in 54 B.C. F. Marx in the

Rheinisches Museum, 'de aetate Lucretii,' holds that he was

born in 97 B.C., and died in his 42nd year, B.C. 55. He makes

a more important contribution to the controversy in the remark

'acceptissima vero Enniana Lucretii poesis fuisse putanda est

Ciceroni.' Whether Lucretius died in his 44th or 42nd year

cannot be of much consequence to anybody; and, in the

general uncertainty of Jerome's dates, it seems impossible to

determine it one way or other.]

[Footnote 3: Professor Wallace in his interesting account

of 'Epicureanism' writes, in reference to the way in which

Epicurus himself was regarded in a later age, 'And the

maladies of Epicurus are treated as an anticipatory judgment

of Heaven upon him for his alleged impieties.'--Epicureanism,

p. 46.]

[Footnote 4: This consideration is urged by De Quincey in one

of his essays.]

[Footnote 5: iii. 1039, etc.]

[Footnote 6: iv. 33-38:--

Atque eadem nobis vigilantibus obvia mentes

Terrificant atque in somnis, cum saepe figuras

Contuimur miras simulacraque luce carentum,

Quae nos horrifice languentis saepe sopore

Excierunt, ne forte animas Acherunte reamur

Effugere aut umbras inter vivos volitare.]

[Footnote 7: An article in the Fortnightly Review of

September, 1878, on 'Hallucination of the Senses,' suggests

a possible explanation of the mental condition of Lucretius,

during the composition of some part of his work. The writer

speaks of the power of calling these hallucinations up as

being quite consistent with perfect sanity of mind, but as

sometimes inducing madness. He goes on, 'Or, if the person

does not go out of his mind, he may be so distressed by the

persistence of the apparition which he has created, as to fall

into melancholy and despair, and even to commit suicide.']

[Footnote 8: The theory of Lachmann and others that Q. Cicero

was the editor may possibly be true. He dabbled in poetry

himself, and he was more nearly of the same age as Lucretius,

and thus perhaps more likely to have been a friend of his.

The fact that Cicero's remark is in answer to one of his might

suggest the opinion that the poem had been read by him before

it became known to the older brother, and perhaps been sent

by him to Cicero. But if Q. Cicero was the editor, Jerome must

here also have copied his authorities carelessly. In the

time of Jerome the familiar name of Cicero must have been

understood as applying to the great orator and philosophic

writer, not to his comparatively obscure brother. The only

certain inference which can be drawn from this mention of the

poem is that it had been read, shortly after its appearance,

in the beginning of the year 54 B.C., by both brothers. Yet

the consideration of the whole case does not lead to the

rejection of the statement that M. Cicero was the editor as

incredible, or even as highly improbable. If it was he, he

must have performed his task very perfunctorily. Possibly, as

Mr. Munro suggests, all that he may have been asked to do was

to introduce the work to the public by the use of his name.

The actual revision and arrangement of the poem may have been

made by one of the 'librarii' of Atticus.]

[Footnote 9: E.g. Tusc. Disp. i. 21, especially the

sentence--'Quae quidem cogitans soleo saepe admirari non

nullorum insolentiam philosophorum qui naturae cognitionem

admirantur, eiusque inventori et principi gratias exultantes

agunt eumque venerantur ut deum.']

[Footnote 10: The use of _tamen_ in the sense of 'all the

same' is not uncommon in the colloquial language of Terence,

which the language of Cicero's familiar letters closely

resembles.]

[Footnote 11: At that time he would be about forty-one years

of age--the same age as Lucretius, if, as is most probable, he

was born in 99 B.C.]

[Footnote 12: i. 643-4; cf. [Greek: oute hos logographoi

xunethesan epi to prosagogoteron te akroasei e

alethesteron].--Thuc. i. 21.]

[Footnote 13: The lines (v. 999)--

At non multa virum sub signis milia ducta

Una dies dabat exitio, etc.--

might well be a reminiscence of the great massacre at the

Colline gate.]

[Footnote 14: Cp. Munro, Note II, p. 413. Third Edition.]

[Footnote 15: 'Si jam violentior aliqua in re C. Caesar

fuisset, si eum magnitudo contentionis, studium gloriae,

praestans animus, excellens nobilitas aliquo impulisset.'--In

Vatinium 6.]

[Footnote 16: iv. 973, etc.]

[Footnote 17: iv. 75, etc.]

[Footnote 18: ii. 24, etc.]

[Footnote 19: In places where he is not drawing from his own

observation, he uses such expressions as _memorant_;

e.g. iii. 642.]

[Footnote 20: E.g. iv. 353, etc.]

[Footnote 21: E.g.

Ardua dum metuunt amittunt vera viai,

and

Avia Pieridum peragro loca.]

[Footnote 22: Obermann, by M. Arnold.]

[Footnote 23: i. 935-50.]

[Footnote 24: 'And can discourse much on the combination

of things, and enquire moreover, what are their own first

elements.']

[Footnote 25: 'While I seem ever to be plying this task

earnestly, to be enquiring into Nature, and explaining my

discoveries in writings in my native tongue.' This is one of

those passages which seem to indicate an unhealthy overstrain

which may have been the precursor of the final disturbance of

'his power to shape.']

[Footnote 26: Cp. Munro's notes on the passages where these

expressions occur.]

[Footnote 27: E.g. ii. 77, etc. Augescunt aliae gentes, etc.,

suggested by a passage in the Laws:--[Greek: gennontas te kai

ektrephontas paidas, kathaper lampada ton bion paradidontas

allois ex allon]--and the lines which recur several times,

etc. 'Nam veluti pueri trepidant,' which Mr. Munro aptly

compares with the words in the Phaedo (77), [Greek: isos eni

tis kai en hemin pais, hostis ta toiauta phobeitai.]]

[Footnote 28: v. 8.]

[Footnote 29: Cf.

His ibi me rebus quaedam divina voluptas

Percipit adque horror.]

[Footnote 30: 'But nought greater than this man does it seem

to have possessed, nor aught more holy, more wonderful, or

more beloved. Yea, too, strains of divine genius proclaim

aloud and make known his great discoveries, so that he seems

scarcely to be of mortal race.'--i. 729-33.]

[Footnote 31: 'When they have gazed for a few years of a life

that is indeed no life, speedily fulfilling their doom, they

vanish away like a smoke, convinced of that only which each

hath met in his own experience, as they were buffeted about to

and fro. Vainly doth each boast to have discovered the whole.

The eye cannot behold it, nor the ear hear it, nor the mind of

man comprehend it.']

[Footnote 32: 'With death there is ever blending the wail

of infants newly born into the light. And no night hath ever

followed day, no morning dawned on night, but hath heard the

mingled sounds of feeble infant wailings and of lamentations

that follow the dead and black funeral train.'--ii. 576-80.]

[Footnote 33: i. 943-50.]

[Footnote 34: iii. 1036-38.]

[Footnote 35: Cf. notes ii. of Mr. Munro's edition.]

[Footnote 36: i. 117, etc.]

[Footnote 37: Mr. Froude, in his 'Julius Caesar,' says, 'The

age was saturated with cant.' Perhaps, to that condition of

the age we, in part, owe one of the sincerest protests

against cant, and unreality of every kind, ever written.

Both speculatively and practically Cicero appears at a great

disadvantage when compared with Lucretius in these respects.]

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