CHAPTER XI

RELIGION

It is easy to write the word "religion" at the head of this chapter,

but by no means easy to find anything in this materialistic period

which answers to our use of the word. In the whole mass, for example,

of the Ciceronian correspondence, there is hardly anything to show

that Cicero and his friends, and therefore, as we may presume, the

average educated man of the day, were affected in their thinking or

their conduct by any sense of dependence on, or responsibility to, a

Supreme Being. If, however, it had been possible to substitute for

the English word the Latin _religio_ it would have made a far more

appropriate title to this chapter, for _religio_ meant primarily awe,

nervousness, scruple--much the same in fact as that feeling which in

these days we call superstition; and secondarily the means taken,

under the authority of the State, to quiet such feelings by the

performance of rites meant to propitiate the gods.[530] In both of

these senses _religio_ is to be found in the last age of the Republic;

but, as we shall see, the tendency to superstitious nervousness was

very imperfectly allayed and the worship that should have allayed it

was in great measure neglected.

It may be, indeed, that in quiet country districts the joyous rural

festivals went on--we have many allusions and a few descriptions of

them in the literature of the Augustan period,--and also the worship

of the household deities, in which there perhaps survived a feeling of

_pietas_ more nearly akin to what we call religious feeling than in

any of the cults (_sacra publica_) undertaken by the State for the

people. Even in the city the cult of the dead, or what may perhaps be

better called the religious attention paid to their resting-places,

and the religious ceremonies attending birth, puberty, and marriage,

were kept up as matters of form and custom among the upper and

wealthier classes. But the great mass of the population of Rome, we

may be almost sure, knew nothing of these rites; the poor man, for

example, could no more afford a tomb for himself than a house, and his

body was thrown into some _puticulus_ or common burying-place,[531]

where it was impossible that any yearly ceremonies could be performed

to his memory, even if any one cared to do so. And among the higher

strata of society, outside of these _sacra privata_, carelessness

and negligence of the old State cults were steadily on the increase.

Neither Cicero nor any of his contemporaries but Varro has anything

to tell us of their details, and the decay had gone so far that Varro

himself knew little or nothing about many of the deities of the old

religious calendar,[532] or of the ways in which they had at one

time been worshipped. Vesta, with her simple cult and her virgin

priestesses, was almost the only deity who was not either forgotten

or metamorphosed in one way or another under the influence of Greek

literature and mythology; Vesta was too well recognised as a symbol

of the State's vitality to be subject to neglect like other and less

significant cults. The old sacrificing priesthoods, such as the

Fratres Arvales and the lesser Flamines, seem not to have been filled

up by the pontifices whose duty it was to do so: and the Flamen

Dialis, the priest of Jupiter himself, is not heard of from 89 to

11 B.C., when he appears again as a part of the Augustan religious

restoration. The explanation is probably that these offices could not

be held together with any secular one which might take the holder

away from Rome; and as every man of good family had business in the

provinces, no qualified person could be found willing to put himself

under the restriction. The temples too seem to have been sadly

neglected; Augustus tells us himself[533] that he had to restore no

less than eighty-two; and from Cicero we actually hear of thefts

of statues and other temple property[534]--sacrileges which may be

attributed to the general demoralisation caused by the Social and

Civil Wars. At the same time there seems to have been a strong

tendency to go after strange gods, with whose worship Roman soldiers

had made acquaintance in the course of their numerous eastern

campaigns. It is a remarkable fact that no less than four times in a

single decade the worship of Isis had to be suppressed,--in 58, 53,

50, and 48 B.C. In the year 50 we are told that the consul Aemilius

Paullus, a conservative of the old type, actually threw off his toga

praetexta and took an axe to begin destroying the temple, because no

workmen could be found to venture on the work.[535] These are indeed

strange times; the beautiful religion of Isis, which assuredly had

some power to purify a man and strengthen his conscience,[536] was to

be driven out of a city where the old local religion had never had any

such power, and where the masses were now left without a particle of

aid or comfort from any religious source. The story seems to ring

true, and gives us a most valuable glimpse into the mental condition

of the Roman workman of the time.

Of such foreign worships, and of the general neglect of the old cults,

Cicero tells us nothing; we have to learn or to guess at these facts

from evidence supplied by later writers. His interest in religious

practice was confined to ceremonies which had some political

importance. He was himself an augur, and was much pleased with his

election to that ancient college; but, like most other augurs of

the time, he knew nothing of augural "science," and only cared to

speculate philosophically on the question whether it is possible to

foretell the future. He looked upon the right of the magistrate to

"observe the heaven" as a part of an excellent constitution,[537]

and could not forgive Caesar for refusing in 59 B.C. to have his

legislation paralysed by the fanatical declarations of his colleague

that he was going to "look for lightning." He firmly believed in

the value of the _ius divinum_ of the State. In his treatise on the

constitution (_de Legibus_) he devotes a whole book to this religious

side of constitutional law, and gives a sketch of it in quasi-legal

language from which it appears that he entirely accepted the duty of

the State to keep the citizen in right relation to the gods, on whose

good-will his welfare depended. He seems never to have noticed that the

State was neglecting this duty, and that, as we saw just now, temples

and cults were falling into decay, strange forms of religion pressing

in. Such things did not interest him; in public life the State

religion was to him a piece of the constitution, to be maintained

where it was clearly essential; in his own study it was a matter of

philosophical discussion. In his young days he was intimate with the

famous Pontifex Maximus, Mucius Scaevola, who held that there were

three religions,--that of the poets, that of the philosophers, and

that of the statesman, of which the last must be accepted and

acted on, whether it be true or not.[538] Cicero could hardly have

complained if this saying had been attributed to himself.

This attitude of mind, the combination of perfect freedom of thought

with full recognition of the legal obligations of the State and its

citizens in matters of religion, is not difficult for any one to

understand who is acquainted with the nature of the ius divinum and

the priesthood administering it. That ius divinum was a part of the

ius civile, the law of the Roman city-state; as the ius civile,

exclusive of the ius divinum, regulated the relations of citizen to

citizen, so did the ius divinum regulate the relations of the citizen

to the deities of the community. The priesthoods administering this

law consisted not of sacrificing priests, attached to the cult of a

particular god and temple, but of lay officials in charge of that part

of the law of the State; it was no concern of theirs (so indeed they

might quite well argue) whether the gods really existed or not,

provided the law were maintained. When in 61 B.C. Clodius was caught

in disguise at the women's festival of the Bona Dea, the pontifices

declared the act to be _nefas_,--crime against the ius divinum; but

we may doubt whether any of those pontifices really believed in the

existence of such a deity. The idea of the _mos maiorum_ was still so

strong in the mind of every true Roman, his conservative instincts

were so powerful, that long after all real life had left the divine

inhabitants of his city, so that they survived only as the dead stalks

of plants that had once been green and flourishing, he was quite

capable of being horrified at any open contempt of them. And he was

right, as Augustus afterwards saw clearly; for the masses, who had

no share in the education described in the sixth chapter, who

knew nothing of Greek literature or philosophy, and were full

of superstitious fancies, were already losing confidence in the

authorities set over them, and in their power to secure the good-will

of the gods and their favour in matters of material well-being.

This is the only way in which we can satisfactorily account for the

systematic efforts of Augustus to renovate the old religious rites and

priesthoods, and we can fairly argue back from it to the tendencies of

the generation immediately before him. He knew that the proletariate

of Rome and Italy still believed, as their ancestors had always

believed, that state and individual would alike suffer unless the gods

were properly propitiated; and that in order to keep them quiet and

comfortable the sense of duty to the gods must be kept alive even

among those who had long ceased to believe in them. It was fortunate

indeed for Augustus that he found in the great poet of Mantua one who

was in some sense a prophet as well as a poet, who could urge the

Roman by an imaginative example to return to a living pietas,--not

merely to the old religious forms, but to the intelligent sense of

duty to God and man which had built up his character and his empire.

In Cicero's day there was also a great poet, he too in some sense a

prophet; but Lucretius could only appeal to the Roman to shake off the

slough of his old religion, and such an appeal was at the time both

futile and dangerous. Looking at the matter historically, and not

theologically, we ought to sympathise with the attitude of Cicero

and Scaevola towards the religion of the State. It was based on a

statesmanlike instinct; and had it been possible for that instinct to

express itself practically in a positive policy like that of Augustus,

instead of showing itself in philosophical treatises like the _de

Legibus_, or on occasional moments of danger like that of the Bona Dea

sacrilege, it is quite possible that much mischief might have

been averted. But in that generation no one had the shrewdness or

experience of Augustus, and no one but Julius had the necessary free

hand; and we may be almost sure that Julius, Pontifex Maximus though

he was, was entirely unfitted by nature and experience to undertake

a work that called for such delicate handling, such insight into the

working of the ignorant Italian mind.

This attitude of inconsistency and compromise must seem to a modern

unsatisfactory and strained, and he turns with relief to the

courageous outspokenness of the great poem of Lucretius on the Nature

of Things, of which the main object was to persuade the Romans to

renounce for good all the mass of superstition, in which he included

the religion of the State, by which their minds were kept in a prison

of darkness, terror, and ignorance. Lucretius took no part whatever in

public life; he could afford to be in earnest; he felt no shadow of

responsibility for the welfare of the State as such. The Epicurean

tenets which he held so passionately had always ranked the individual

before the community, and suggested a life of individual quietism;

Lucretius in his study could contemplate the "rerum natura" without

troubling himself about the "natura hominum" as it existed in the

Italy of his day. "Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,"--so

wrote of him his great successor and admirer, yet added, with a tinge

of pathos which touches us even now, "Fortunatus et ille deos qui

novit agrestes." Even at the present day an uncompromising unbeliever

may be touched by the simple worship, half pagan though it may seem to

him, of a village in the Apennines; but in the eyes of Lucretius all

worship seemed prompted by fear and based on ignorance of natural law.

Virgil's tender and sympathetic soul went out to the peasant as he

prayed to his gods for plenty or prosperity, as it went out to all

living creatures in trouble or in joy.

But it is nevertheless true that Lucretius was a great religious poet.

He was a prophet, in deadly earnest, calling men to renounce their

errors both of thought and conduct. He saw around him a world full of

wickedness and folly; a world of vanity, vexation, fear, ambition,

cruelty, and lust. He saw men fearing death and fearing the gods;

overvaluing life, yet weary of it; unable to use it well, because

steeped in ignorance of the wonderful working of Nature.[539] He saw

them, as we have already seen them, the helpless victims of ambition

and avarice, ever, like Sisyphus, rolling the stone uphill and never

reaching the summit.[540] Of cruelty and bloodshed in civil strife

that age had seen enough, and on this too the poet dwells with bitter

emphasis;[541] on the unwholesome luxury and restlessness of the

upper classes,[542] and on their unrestrained indulgence of bodily

appetites. In his magnificent scorn he probably exaggerated the evils

of his day, yet we have seen enough in previous chapters to suggest

that he was not a mere pessimist; there is no trace in his poem of

cynicism, or of a soured temperament. We may be certain that he was

absolutely convinced of the truth of all he wrote.

So far Lucretius may be called a religious poet, in that with profound

conviction and passionate utterance he denounced the wickedness of

his age, and, like the Hebrew prophets, called on mankind to put away

their false gods and degrading superstitions, and learn the true

secret of guidance in this life. It is only when we come to ask what

that secret was, that we feel that this extraordinary man knew far too

little of ordinary human nature to be either a religious reformer

or an effective prophet: as Sellar has said of him,[543] he had no

sympathy with human activity. His secret, the remedy for all the

world's evil and misery, was only a philosophical creed, which he had

learnt from Epicurus and Democritus. His profound belief in it is one

of the most singular facts in literary history; no man ever put such

poetic passion into a dogma, and no such imperious dogma was ever

built upon a scientific theory of the universe. He seems to have

combined two Italian types of character, which never have been united

before or since,--that of the ecclesiastic, earnest and dogmatic,

seeing human nature from a doctrinal platform, not working and

thinking with it; and secondly the poetic type, of which Dante is the

noblest example, perfectly clear and definite in inward and outward

vision, and illuminating all that it touches with an indescribable

glow of pure poetic imagination.

Lucretius' secret then is knowledge,[544]--not the dilettanteism of

the day, but real scientific knowledge of a single philosophical

attempt to explain the universe,--the atomic theory of the Epicurean

school. Democritus and Epicurus are the only saviours,--of this

Lucretius never had the shadow of a doubt. As the result of this

knowledge, the whole supernatural and spiritual world of fancy

vanishes, together with all futile hopes or fears of a future life.

The gods, if they exist, will cease to be of any importance to

mankind, as having no interest in him, and doing him neither good nor

harm. Chimaeras, portents, ghosts, death, and all that frightens the

ignorant and paralyses their energies, will vanish in the pure light

of this knowledge; man will have nothing to be afraid of but himself.

Nor indeed need he fear himself when he has mastered "the truth." By

that time, as the scales of fear fall from his eyes, his moral balance

will be recovered; the blind man will see. What will he see? What is

the moral standard that will become clear to him, the sanction of

right living that will grip his conscience?

It is simply the conviction that as this life is all we have in past,

present, or future, it _must be used well_. After all then, Lucretius

is reduced to ordinary moral suasion, and finds no new power or

sanction that could keep erring human nature in the right path. And

we must sadly allow that no real moral end is enunciated by him;

his ideal seems to be quietism in this life, and annihilation

afterwards.[545] It is a purely self-regarding rule of life. It is not

even a social creed; neither family nor State seems to have any part

in it, much less the unfortunate in this life, the poor, and the

suffering. The poet never mentions slavery, or the crowded populations

of great cities. It might almost be called a creed of fatalism, in

which Natura plays much the same part as Fortuna did in the creed of

many less noble spirits of that age.[546] Nature fights on; we cannot

resist her, and cannot improve on her; it is better to acquiesce and

obey than to try and rule her.

Thus Lucretius' remedy fails utterly; it is that of an aristocratic

intellect, not of a saviour of mankind.[547] So far as we know, it was

entirely fruitless; like the constitution of Sulla his contemporary,

the doctrine of Lucretius roused no sense of loyalty in Roman or

Italian, because it was constructed with imperfect knowledge of the

Roman and Italian nature. But it was a noble effort of a noble mind;

and, apart from its literary greatness, it has incidentally a lasting

value for all students of religious history, as showing better than

anything else that has survived from that age the need of a real

consecration of morality by the life and example of a Divine man.

Thus while the Roman statesman found it necessary to maintain the ius

divinum without troubling himself to attempt to put any new life into

the details of the worship it prescribed, content to let much of it

sink into oblivion as no longer essential to the good government of

the State, the greatest poetical genius of the age was proclaiming in

trumpet tones that if a man would make good use of his life he must

abandon absolutely and without a scruple the old religious ideas of

the Graeco-Roman world. But there was another school of thought which

had long been occupied with these difficulties, and had reached

conclusions far better suited than the dogmatism of Lucretius to the

conservative character of the Roman mind, for it found a place for

the deities of the State, and therefore for the ius divinum, in a

philosophical system already widely accepted by educated men. This

school may be described as Stoic, though its theology was often

accepted by men who did not actually call themselves Stoics; for

example, by Cicero himself, who, as an adherent of the New Academy,

the school which repudiated dogmatism and occupied itself with

dialectic and criticism, was perfectly entitled to adopt the tenets

of other schools if he thought them the most convincing. Its most

elaborate exponent in this period was Varro, and behind both Varro and

Cicero there stands the great figure of the Rhodian Posidonius[548],

of whose writings hardly anything has come down to us. It is worth

while to trace briefly the history of this school at Rome, for it is

in itself extremely interesting, as an attempt to reconcile the old

theology--if the term may be used--with philosophical thought, and it

probably had an appreciable influence on the later quasi-religious

Stoicism of the Empire.

We must go back for a moment to the period succeeding the war with

Hannibal. The awful experience of that war had done much to discredit

the old Roman religious system, which had been found insufficient of

itself to preserve the State. The people, excited and despairing,

had been quieted by what may be called new religious prescriptions,

innumerable examples of which are to be found in Livy's books.

The Sibylline books were constantly consulted, and _lectisternia,

supplicationes, ludi_, in which Greek deities were prominent, were

ordered and carried out. Finally, in 204 B.C., there was brought to

Rome the sacred stone of the Magna Mater Idaea, the great deity of

Pessinus in Phrygia, and a festival was established in her honour,

called by the Greek name Megalesia. All this means, as can be seen

clearly from Livy's language,[549] that the governing classes were

trying to quiet the minds of the people by convincing them that no

effort was being spared to set right their relations with the unseen

powers; they had invoked in vain their own local and native deities,

and had been compelled to seek help elsewhere; they had found their

own narrow system of religion quite inadequate to express their

religious experience of the last twenty years. And indeed that old

system of religion never really recovered from the discredit thus cast

on it. The temper of the people is well shown by the rapidity with

which the orgiastic worship of the Greek Dionysus spread over Italy a

few years later; and the fact that it was allowed to remain, though

under strict supervision, shows that the State religion no longer had

the power to satisfy the cravings of the masses. And the educated

class too was rapidly coming under the influence of Greek thought,

which could hardly act otherwise than as a solvent of the old

religious ideas. Ennius, the great literary figure of this period,

was the first to strike a direct blow at the popular belief in the

efficacy of prayer and sacrifice, by openly declaring that the gods

did not interest themselves in mankind,[550]--the same Epicurean

doctrine preached afterwards by Lucretius. It may indeed be doubted

whether this doctrine became popular, or acceptable even to the

cultured classes; but the fact remains that the same man who did

more than any one before Virgil to glorify the Roman character and

dominion, was the first to impugn the belief that Rome owed her

greatness to her divine inhabitants.

But in the next generation there arrived in Rome a man whose teaching

had so great an influence on the best type of educated Roman that, as

we have already said, he may almost be regarded as a missionary.[551]

We do not know for certain whether Panaetius wrote or taught about the

nature or existence of the gods; but we do know that he discussed the

question of divination[552] in a work [Greek: Peri pronoias], where he

could hardly have avoided the subject. In any case the Stoic doctrines

which he held, themselves ultimately derived from Plato and the Old

Academy, were found capable in the hands of his great successor

Posidonius of Rhodes of supplying a philosophical basis for the

activity as well as the existence of the gods. These men, it must

be repeated, were not merely professed philosophers, but men of the

world, travellers, writing on a great variety of subjects; they were

profoundly interested, like Polybius, in the Roman character and

government; they became intimate with the finer Roman minds, from

Scipio the younger to Cicero and Varro, and seem to have seen clearly

that the old rigid Stoicism must be widened and humanised, and its

ethical and theological aspects modified, if it were to gain a real

hold on the practical Roman understanding. We have already seen[553]

how their modified Stoic ethics acted for good on the best Romans

of our period. In theology also they left a permanent mark on Roman

thought; Posidonius wrote a work on the gods, which formed the basis

of the speculative part of Varro's _Antiquitates divinae_, and almost

certainly also of the second book of Cicero's de _Natura Deorum_[554].

Other philosophers of the period, even if not professed Stoics, may

have discussed the same subjects in their lectures and writings,

arriving at conclusions of the same kind.

It is chiefly from the fragments of Varro's work that we learn

something of the Stoic attempt to harmonise the old religious beliefs

with philosophic theories of the universe[555]. Varro, following his

teacher, held the Stoic doctrine of the _animus mundi_ the Divine

principle permeating all material things which, in combination with

them, constitutes the universe, and is Nature, Reason, God, Destiny,

or whatever name the philosopher might choose to give it. The universe

is divine, the various parts of it are, therefore, also divine, in

virtue of this informing principle. Now in the sixteenth book of his

great work Varro co-ordinated this Stoic theory with the Graeco-Roman

religion of the State as it existed in his time. The chief gods

represented the _partes mundi_ in various ways; even the difference

of sex among the deities was explained by regarding male gods as

emanating from the heaven and female ones from the earth, according

to a familiar ancient idea of the active and passive principle in

generation. The Stoic doctrine of [Greek: daimones] was also utilised

to find an explanation for semi-deities, lares, genii, etc., and thus

another character of the old Italian religious mind was to be saved

from contempt and oblivion. The old Italian tendency to see the

supernatural manifesting itself in many different ways expressed by

adjectival titles, e.g. Mars Silvanus, Jupiter Elicius, Juno Lucina,

etc., also found an explanation in Varro's doctrine; for the divine

element existing in sky, earth, sea, or other parts of the _mundus_,

and manifesting itself in many different forms of activity, might

be thus made obvious to the ordinary human intellect without the

interposition of philosophical terms.

At the head of the whole system was Jupiter, the greatest of Roman

gods, whose title of Optimus Maximus might well have suggested that no

other deity could occupy this place. Without him it would have been

practically impossible for Varro to carry out his difficult and

perilous task. Every Roman recognised in Jupiter the god who

condescended to dwell on the Capitol in a temple made with hands, and

who, beyond all other gods, watched over the destinies of the Roman

State; every Roman also knew that Jupiter was the great god of the

heaven above him, for in many expressions of his ordinary speech he

used the god's name as a synonym for the open sky.[556] The position

now accorded to the heaven-god in the new Stoic system is so curious

and interesting that we must dwell on it for a moment.

Varro held, or at any rate taught, that Jupiter was himself that soul

of the world (animus mundi) which fills and moves the whole material

universe.[557] He is the one universal causal agent,[558] from whom

all the forces of nature are derived;[559] or he may be called, in

language which would be intelligible to the ordinary Roman, the

universal Genius.[560] Further, he is himself all the other gods and

goddesses, who may be described as parts, or powers, or virtues,

existing in him.[561] And Varro makes it plain that he wishes to

identify this great god of gods with the Jupiter at Rome, whose temple

was on the Capitol; St. Augustine quotes him as holding that the

Romans had dedicated the Capitol to Jupiter, who by his spirit

breathes life into everything in the universe:[562] or in less

philosophical language, "The Romans wish to recognise Jupiter as king

of gods and men, and this is shown by his sceptre and his seat on the

Capitol." Thus the god who dwelt on the Capitol, and in the temple

which was the centre-point of the Roman Empire, was also the

life-giving ruler and centre of the whole universe. Nay, he goes one

step further, and identifies him with the one God of the monotheistic

peoples of the East, and in particular with the God of the Jews.[563]

Thus Varro had arrived, with the help of Posidonius and the Stoics, at

a monotheistic view of the Deity, which is at the same time a kind of

pantheism, and yet, strange to say, is able to accommodate itself to

the polytheism of the Graeco-Roman world. But without Jupiter, god of

the heaven both for Greeks and Romans, and now too in the eyes of both

peoples the god who watched over the destiny of the Roman Empire, this

wonderful feat could not have been performed. The identification of

the heaven-god with the animus mundi of the Stoics was not indeed a

new idea; it may be traced up Stoic channels even to Plato. What is

really new and astonishing is that it should have been possible for a

conservative Roman like Varro, in that age of carelessness and doubt,

to bring the heaven-god, so to speak, down to the Roman Capitol, where

his statue was to be seen sitting between Juno and Minerva, and yet to

teach the doctrine that he was the same deity as the Jewish Jehovah,

and that both were identical with the Stoic animus mundi.

But did Varro also conceive of this Jupiter as a deity "making for

righteousness," or acting as a sanction for morality? It would not

have been impossible or unnatural for a Roman so to think of him, for

of all the Roman deities Jupiter is the one whose name from the most

ancient times had been used in oaths and treaties, and whose _numen_

was felt to be violated by any public or private breach of faith.[564]

We cannot tell how far Varro himself followed out this line of

thought, for the fragments of his great work are few and far between.

But we know that the Roman Stoics saw in that same universal Power or

Mind which Varro identified with Jupiter the source and strength of

law, and therefore of morality; here it is usually called reason,

_ratio_, the working of the eternal and immutable Mind of the

universe. "True law is right reason," says Cicero in a noble

passage;[565] and goes on to teach that this law transcends all human

codes of law, embracing and sanctioning them all; and that the spirit

inherent in it, which gives it its universal force, is God Himself. In

another passage, written towards the end of his life, and certainly

later than the publication of Varro's work, he goes further and

identifies this God with Jupiter.[566] "This law," he says, "came into

being simultaneously with the Divine Mind" (i.e. the Stoic Reason):

"wherefore that true and paramount law, commanding and forbidding, is

the right reason of almighty Jupiter" (summi Iovis). Once more, in the

first book of his treatise on the gods, he quotes the Stoic Chrysippus

as teaching that the eternal Power, which is as it were a guide in the

duties of life, is Jupiter himself.[567] It is characteristic of the

Roman that he should think, in speculations like these, rather of the

law of his State than of the morality of the individual, as emanating

from that Right Reason to which he might give the name of Jupiter: I

have been unable to find a passage in which Cicero attributes to this

deity the sanction for individual goodness, though there are many that

assert the belief that justice and the whole system of social life

depend on the gods and our belief in them.[568] But the Roman had

never been conscious of individual duty, except in relation to his

State, or to the family, which was a living cell in the organism of

the State. In his eyes law was rather the source of morality than

morality the cause and the reason of law; and as his religion was a

part of the law of his State, and thus had but an indirect connection

with morality, it would not naturally occur to him that even the great

Jupiter himself, thus glorified as the Reason in the universe, could

really help him in the conduct of his life _qua_ individual. It is

only as the source of legalised morality that we can think of Varro's

Jupiter as "making for righteousness."

Less than twenty-five years after Cicero's death, in the imagination

of the greatest of Roman poets, Jupiter was once more brought before

the Roman world, and now in a form comprehensible by all educated men,

whether or no they had dabbled in philosophy. What are we to say of

the Jupiter of the _Aeneid_? We do not need to read far in the first

book of the poem to find him spoken of in terms which remind us of

Varro: "O qui res hominumque deumque Aeternis regis imperiis," are the

opening words of the address of Venus; and when she has finished,

Olli subridens hominum sator atque deorum

Vultu, quo caelum tempestatesque serenat,

Oscula libavit natae, dehine talia fatur;

"Parce metu, Cytherea, manent immota tuorum

Fata tibi."

Jupiter is here, as in Varro's system, the prime cause and ruler of

all things, and he also holds in his hand the destiny of Rome and the

fortunes of the hero who was to lay the first foundation of Rome's

dominion. It is in the knowledge of his will that Aeneas walks, with

hesitating steps, in the earlier books, in the later ones with assured

confidence, towards the goal that is set before him. But the lines

just quoted serve well to show how different is the Jupiter of Virgil

from the universal deity of the Roman Stoic. Beyond doubt Virgil had

felt the power of the Stoic creed; but he was essaying an epic poem,

and he could not possibly dispense with the divine machinery as it

stood in his great Homeric model. His Jupiter is indeed, as has been

lately said,[569] "a great and wise god, free from the tyrannical and

sensuous characteristics of the Homeric Zeus," in other words, he is a

Roman deity, and sometimes acts and speaks like a grave Roman consul

of the olden time. But still he is an anthropomorphic deity, a purely

human conception of a personal god-king; in these lines he smiles on

his daughter Venus and kisses her. This is the reason why Virgil has

throughout his poem placed the Fates, or Destiny, in close relation to

him, without definitely explaining that relation. Fate, as it appears

in the Aeneid, is the Stoic [Greek: eimarmenae] applied to the idea of

Rome and her Empire; that Stoic conception could not take the form of

Jupiter, as in Varro's hands, for the god had to be modelled on the

Homeric pattern, not on the Stoic. It is perhaps not going too far to

say that the god, as a theological conception, never recovered from

this treatment; any chance he ever had of becoming the centre of a

real religious system was destroyed by the Aeneid, the _pietas_ of

whose hero is indeed nominally due to him, but in reality to the

decrees of Fate.[570]

While philosophers and poets were thus performing intellectual and

imaginative feats with the gods of the State, the strong tendency to

superstition, untutored fear of the supernatural, which had always

been characteristic of the Italian peoples, so far from losing power,

was actually gaining it, and that not only among the lower classes. As

Lucretius mockingly said, even those who think and speak with contempt

of the gods will in moments of trouble slay black sheep and sacrifice

them to the Manes. This feeling of fear or nervousness, which lies at

the root of the meaning of the word _religio_,[571] had been quieted

in the old days by the prescriptions of the pontifices and their jus

divinum, but it was always ready to break out again; as we have seen,

in the long and awful struggle of the Hannibalic war, it was necessary

to go far beyond the ordinary pharmacopoeia within reach of the

priesthoods in order to convince the people that all possible means

were being taken for their salvation. Again, in this last age of the

Republic, there are obvious signs that both ignorant and educated

were affected by the gloom and uncertainty of the times. Increasing

uncertainty in the political world, increasing doubt in the world of

thought, very naturally combined to produce an emotional tendency

which took different forms in men of different temperament. We can

trace this (1) in the importance attached to omens, portents, dreams;

(2) in a certain vague thought of a future life, which takes a

positive shape in the deification of human beings; (3) at the close of

the period, in something approaching to a sense of sin, of neglected

duty, bringing down upon State and individual the anger of the gods.

1. If we glance over the latter part of the book of prodigies,

compiled by the otherwise unknown writer Julius Obsequens from the

records of the pontifices quoted in Livy's history, we can get a fair

idea of the kind of portent that was troubling the popular mind.

They are much the same as they always had been in Roman

history,--earthquakes, monstrous births, temples struck by lightning,

statues overthrown, wolves entering the city, and so on; they are

extremely abundant in the terrible years of the Social and Civil Wars,

become less frequent after the death of Sulla, and break out again

in full force with the murder of Caesar. They were reported to the

pontifices from the places where they were supposed to have occurred,

and if thought worthy of expiation were entered in the pontifical

books. We may suppose that they were sent in chiefly by the

uneducated. But among men of education we have many examples of this

same nervousness, of which two or three must suffice. Sulla, as we

know from his own Memoirs, which were used directly or indirectly by

Plutarch, had a strong vein of superstition in his nature, and made

no attempt to control it. In dedicating his Memoirs to Lucullus he

advised him "to think no course so safe as that which is enjoined

by the [Greek: daimon] (perhaps his genius) in the night";[572]

and Plutarch tells us several tales of portents on which he acted,

evidently drawn from this same autobiography. We are told of him that

he always carried a small image of Apollo, which he kissed from time

to time, and to which he prayed silently in moments of danger.[573]

Again, Cicero tells us a curious story of himself, Varro, and Cato,

which shows that those three men of philosophical learning were quite

liable to be frightened by a prophecy which to us would not seem to

have much claim to respect.[574] He tells how when the three were

at Dyrrachium, after Caesar's defeat there and the departure of the

armies into Thessaly, news was brought them by the commander of the

Rhodian fleet that a certain rower had foretold that within thirty

days Greece would be weltering in blood; how all three were terribly

frightened, and how a few days later the news of the battle at

Pharsalia reached them. Lastly, we all remember the vision which

appeared to Brutus on the eve of the battle of Philippi, of a huge and

fearsome figure standing by him in silence, which Shakespeare has made

into the ghost of Caesar and used to unify his play. According to

Plutarch, the Epicurean Cassius, as Lucretius would have done,

attempted to convince his friend on rational grounds that the vision

need not alarm him, but apparently in vain.[575]

2. Lucretius had denied the doctrine of the immortality of the soul,

as the cause of so much of the misery which he believed it to be his

mission to avert. Caesar, in the speech put into his mouth by Sallust,

in the debate on the execution of the conspirators on December 5, 63,

seems to be of the same opinion, and as Cicero alludes to his words in

the speech with which he followed Caesar, we may suppose that Sallust

was reporting him rightly.[576] The poet and the statesman were not

unlike in the way in which they looked at facts; both were of clear

strong vision, without a trace of mysticism. But such men were the

exception rather than the rule; Cicero probably represents better the

average thinking man of his time. Cicero was indeed too full of life,

too deeply interested in the living world around him, to think much

of such questions as the immortality of the soul; and as a professed

follower of the Academic school, he assuredly did not hold any

dogmatic opinion on it. He was at no time really affected by

Pythagoreanism, like his friend Nigidius Figulus, whose works, now

lost, had a great vogue in the later years of Cicero's life, and much

influence on the age that followed. In the first book of his Tusculan

Disputations Cicero discusses the question from the Academic point of

view, coming to no definite conclusion, except that whether we are

immortal or not we must be grateful to death for releasing us from the

bondage of the body. This book was written in the last year of his

life; but ten years earlier, in the beautiful myth, imitated from the

myths of Plato, which he appended to his treatise _de Republica_, he

had emphatically asserted the doctrine. There the spirit of the elder

Scipio appears to his great namesake, Cicero's ideal Roman, and

assures him that the road to heaven (caelum) lies open to those who do

their duty in this life, and especially their duty to the State. "Know

thyself to be a god; as the god of gods rules the universe, so the god

within us rules the body, and as that great god is eternal, so does an

eternal soul govern this frail body."[577]

The _Somnium Scipionis_ was an inspiration, written under the

influence of Plato at one of those emotional moments of Cicero's

life which make it possible to say of him that there was a religious

element in his mind.[578] Some years later the poignancy of his grief

at the death of his daughter Tullia had the effect of putting him

again in a strong emotional mood. For many weeks he lived alone at

Astura, on the edge of the Pomptine marshes, out of reach of all

friends, forbidding even his young wife and her mother to come near

him; brooding, as it would seem, on the survival of the godlike

element in his daughter. These sad meditations took a practical form

which at first astonishes us, but is not hard to understand when we

have to come to know Cicero well, and to follow the tendencies of

thought in these years. He might erect a tomb to her memory,--but

that would not satisfy him; it would not express his feeling that the

immortal godlike spark within her survived. He earnestly entreats

Atticus to find and buy him a piece of ground where he can build a

_fanum_, i.e. a shrine, to her spirit. "I wish to have a shrine built,

and that wish cannot be rooted out of my heart. I am anxious to avoid

any likeness to a tomb ... in order to attain as nearly as possible to

an apotheosis."[579] A little further on he calls these foolish ideas;

but this is doubtless only because he is writing to Atticus, a man

of the world, not given to emotion or mysticism. Cicero is really

speaking the language of the Italian mind, for the moment free from

philosophical speculation; he believes that his beloved dead lived

on, though he could not have proved it in argument. So firmly does

he believe it that he wishes others to know that he believes it, and

insists that the shrine shall be erected in a frequented place![580]

Though the great Dictator did not believe in another world, he

consented at the end of his life to become Jupiter Julius, and after

his death was duly canonised as Divus, and had a temple erected to

him. But the many-sided question of the deification of the Caesars

cannot be discussed here; it is only mentioned as showing in another

way the trend of thought in this dark age of Roman history. Whatever

some philosophers may have thought, there cannot be a doubt that the

ordinary Roman believed in the godhead of Julius.[581]

3. We saw in an earlier chapter with what gay and heedless frivolity

young men like Caelius were amusing themselves even on the very eve of

civil war. In strange contrast with this is the gloom that overspread

all classes during the war itself, and more especially after the

assassination of the Dictator. Caesar seemed irresistible and godlike,

and men were probably beginning to hope for some new and more stable

order of things, when he was suddenly struck down, and the world

plunged again into confusion and doubt; and it was not till after

the final victory of Octavian at Actium, and the destruction of the

elements of disunion with the deaths of Antony and Cleopatra, that

men really began to hope for better times. The literature of those

melancholy years shows distinct signs of the general depression, which

was perhaps something more than weariness and material discomfort;

there was almost what we may call a dim sense of sin, or at least of

moral evil, such a feeling, though far less real and intense, as that

which their prophets aroused from time to time in the Jewish people,

and one not unknown in the history of Hellas.

The most touching expression of this feeling is to be found in the

preface which Livy prefixed to his history--a wonderful example of the

truth that when a great prose writer is greatly moved, his language

reflects his emotion in its beauty and earnestness. Every student

knows the sentence in which he describes the gradual decay of all that

was good in the Roman character: "donec ad haec tempora, quibus nec

vitia nostra nec remedia pati possumus, perventum est"; but it is

not every student who can recognise in it a real sigh of despair, an

unmistakable token of the sadness of the age.[582] In the introductory

chapters which serve the purpose of prefaces to the _Jugurtha_ and

_Catiline_ of Sallust, we find something of the same sad tone, but

it does not ring true like Livy's exordium; Sallust was a man of

altogether coarser fibre, and seems to be rather assuming than

expressing the genuine feeling of a saddened onlooker. In one of his

earliest poems, written perhaps after the Perusian war of 41 B.C.[583]

even the lively Horace was moved to voice the prevailing depression,

fancifully urging that the Italian people should migrate, like the

Phocaeans of old, to the far west, where, as Sertorius had been told

in Spain, lay the islands of the blest, where the earth, as in the

golden age, yields all her produce untilled:

Iuppiter ilia piae secrevit litora genti

Ut inquinavit aere tempus aureum;

Aere, dehinc ferro duravit saecula, quorum

Piis secunda vate me datur fuga.

It may be, as has recently been suggested, that the famous fourth

Eclogue of Virgil, "the Messianic Eclogue," was in some sense meant as

an answer to this poem of Horace. "There is no need," he seems to say

in that poem, written in the year 39, "to seek the better age in a

fabled island of the west. It is here and now with us. The period upon

which Italy is now entering more than fulfils in real life the dream

of a Golden Age. A marvellous child is even now coming into the world

who will see and inaugurate an era of peace and prosperity: darkness

and despair will after a while pass entirely away, and a regenerate

Italy,--regenerate in religion and morals as in fertility and

wealth,--will lead the world in a new era of happiness and good

government."[584]

But the Golden Age, so fondly hoped for, so vaguely and poetically

conceived, was not to come in the sense in which Virgil, or any other

serious thinker of the day, could dream of it. I may conclude this

chapter with a few sentences which express this most truly and

eloquently. "When there is a fervent aspiration after better things,

springing from a strong feeling of human brotherhood, and a firm

belief in the goodness and righteousness of God, such aspiration

carries with it an invincible confidence that some how, some where,

some when, it must receive its complete fulfilment, for it is prompted

by the Spirit which fills and orders the Universe throughout its whole

development. But if the human organ of inspiration goes on to fix the

how, the where, and the when, and attributes to some nearer object the

glory of the final blessedness, then it inevitably falls into such

mistakes as Virgil's, and finds its golden age in the rule of the

Caesars (which was indeed an essential feature of Christianity),

or perhaps, as in later days, in the establishment of socialism or

imperialism. Well for the seer if he remembers that the kingdom of God

is within us, and that the true golden age must have its foundation in

penitence for misdoing, and be built up in righteousness and loving

kindness."[585]

EPILOGUE

These sketches of social life at the close of the Republican period

have been written without any intention of proving a point, or any

pre-conceived idea of the extent of demoralisation, social, moral, or

political, which the Roman people had then reached. But a perusal of

Mr. Balfour's suggestive lecture on "Decadence" has put me upon making

a very succinct diagnosis of the condition of the patient whose life

and habits I have been describing. The Romans, and the Italians, with

whom they were now socially and politically amalgamated, were not in

the last two centuries B.C. an old or worn-out people. It is at any

rate certain that for a century after the war with Hannibal Rome and

her allies, under the guidance of the Roman senate, achieved an amount

of work in the way of war and organisation such as has hardly been

performed by any people before or since; and even in the period dealt

with in this book, in spite of much cause for misgiving at home, the

work done by Roman and Italian armies both in East and West shows

beyond doubt that under healthy discipline the native vigour of the

population could assert itself. We must not forget, however severely

we may condemn the way in which the work was done, that it is to

these armies, in all human probability, that we owe not only the

preservation of Graeco-Italian culture and civilisation, but the

opportunity for further progress. The establishment of definite

frontiers by Pompeius and Caesar, and afterwards by Augustus and

Tiberius, brought peace to the region of the Mediterranean, and with

it made possible the development of Roman law and the growth of a new

and life-giving religion.

But peoples, like individuals, if offered opportunities of doing

themselves physical or moral damage, are only too ready to accept

them. Time after time in these chapters we have had to look back to

the age following the war with Hannibal in order to see what those

opportunities were; and in each case we have found the acceptance

rapid and eager. We have seen wealth coming in suddenly, and misused;

slave-labour available in an abnormal degree, and utilised with

results in the main unfortunate; the population of the city increasing

far too quickly, yet the difficulties arising from this increase

either ignored or misapprehended. We have noticed the decay of

wholesome family life, of the useful influence of the Roman matron, of

the old forms of the State religion; the misconception of the true end

of education, the result partly of Greek culture, partly of political

life; and to these may perhaps be added an increasing liability to

diseases, and especially to malaria, arising from economic blunders

in Italy and insanitary conditions of life in the city. All these

opportunities of damage to the fibre of the people had been freely

accepted, and with the result that in the age of Cicero we cannot

mistake the signs and symptoms of degeneracy.

But it would be a mistake to jump to the conclusion that this

degeneracy had as yet gone too far to be arrested. It was assuredly

not that degeneracy of senility which Mr. Balfour is inclined to

postulate as an explanation of decadence. So far as I can judge, the

Romans were at that stage when, in spite of unhealthy conditions of

life and obstinate persistence in dangerous habits, it was not too

late to reform and recover. To me the main interest of the history of

the early Empire lies in seeking the answer to the question how far

that recovery was made. If these chapters should have helped any

student to prepare the ground for the solution of this problem their

object will have been fully achieved.

[Illustration: _Stanfords Geog. Estab. London_]

INDEX

Accius

_Aedicula_

Aediles, the

Aemilia, Via. _See_ Via Aemilia

Aemilius, Pons. See Pons Aemilius

Aeneas

Aerarium, the

Aesopus, the actor

Afranius

Africa, province of

Agrippa

Alexandria

Alexis (Atticus's slave)

Amafinius

_Ambitu, lex de_

Anio, the river

Anna Perenna, festival of

_Annona_

Antioch

Antiochus (the physician)

Antium, Cicero's villa at

Antony

_Apodyterium_

Apollinares, Ludi. _See_ Ludi Apollinares

Apollonia

Appia, Via. _See_ Via Appia

Appius Claudius Caecus

Aqua Appia

Aqua Tepula

Aqueducts

Ara maxima

Ara Pacis

_Argentarii_

Argiletum, the

Arpinum, Cicero's villa at

_Ars amatoria_ (Ovid's)

Arval brothers, the

Arx, the

Asia, province of

Astura, Cicero's villa at

_Atellanae, fabulae_. See _Fabulae Atellanae_

_Atrium_

_sutorium_,

Vestae

Atticus

house of,

wealth of,

as money-lender,

the sister of,

the slave of,

Cicero's letters to, _passim_,

Augury

Augustus

alleged proposal of, to remove the capital,

attitude of towards _plebs urbana_,

water-supply under,

the grandfather of,

as a social reformer,

marriage laws of,

furthers public comfort,

restoration of temples by,

attempts at religious revival,

Aventine hill

Baiae

Balbus, Cornelius, the younger

Bankruptcy laws

Basilicae, the

Baths, public

Bath-rooms

Bauli

Bithynia, province of

_Blanditia_

Bona Dea, festival of

Boscoreale

_Brutus_ (Cicero's)

Brutus, Decimus

_Bulla_

Byzantium

Caecilius

Caelian hill

Caelius Autipater

Caelius (M.) Rufus

Caesar, Julius

alleged proposal of, to remove the capital

extends one of the Basilicae,

reduces

corn gratuities;

regulations of, for the government of the city;

debts of;

character of;

as historian;

joined by Caelius;

restores credit in Italy;

and Cleopatra;

clemency of;

sale of prisoners by;

dismisses surrendered armies;

foundation at Corinth by;

entertained by Cicero;

habits of;

as aedile;

summons Publilius to Rome;

as Pontifex Maximus;

speech of, in Sallust;

consents to be deified;

and _passim_

_Calceus_

_Caldarium_

Calvus

Camillus

Campagua, the

Campania

Campus Martius

Caninius

Capena, Porta. _See_ Porta Capena

Capital at Rome

Capitol, the

Capitoline hill

Capua

_Carceres_, the

Carinae, the

Carmentalis, Porta. _See_ Porta Carmentalis

_Castella_

Castor, temple of

Catiline

Cato major

Cato minor

Catullus

Catulus the elder

_Cena_

Censor, the

_Censoria locatio_

Ceres

Ceriales, Ludi. _See_ Ludi Ceriales

Cethegus

Chariot-racing

Chrysippus

Cicero, birthplace of;

house of;

borrows money;

as a man of business;

and the publicani;

relation of, to the governing aristocracy;

letters of;

as a philosopher;

and Clodia;

views on education;

influence of philosophers upon;

and the slave question;

and the use of slaves for seditious purposes;

villas of;

undertakes the Ludi Romani;

religious views of;

and _passim_

Cicero, Marcus

Cicero, Quintus

Cilician pirates

Circus Flaminius

Circus Maximus

Cleopatra

Clients

Clivus Capitolinus

Clivus sacer

Cloaca maxima

Clodia

Clodius

Cluvius

_Coemptio_

_Coenaculum_

Coinage

_Collegia_

Colline gate, Sulla's victory at the,

Colosseum, the

Columella

Comedy

_Comissatio_

Comitium, the

_Commercii, ius_

_Compluvium_

Concordia, temple of

_Conducticii_

_Confarreatio_

_Coniugalia praecepta_ (Plutarch's)

_Connubii, ius_

Constantine, arch of

Consul, the

Consus, altar of

_Contubernium_

_Convivium_

_Copa_ ("Virgil's")

Corfinium

Cornelia

Cornelius

Crassus

Cumae, Cicero's villa at

Curia, the

Curio

Debtors

_Declamatio_

_Deductio_

Democritus

_Deorum, De Natura_ (Cicero's)

Diana, temple of

_Die natali, De_ (Censorinus's)

_Diffarreatio_

Diomedes, villa of

Dionysius of Halicarnassus

Dionysus, worship of

Di Penates. _See_ Penates

Diphilus, the actor

Divorce

_Dolia_

_Domus_

_Dos_

Drama, the

Dyrrhachium, importation of corn

into; battle of

Egypt

Emetics, use of

Ennius

Epicureanism

Epicurus

_Epulum Jovis_

Equester, Ordo. _See_ Ordo equester

Equirria

Equites. _See_ Ordo equester

_Ergastula_

Esquiline hill

Etruscans, the

Evander

_Exedra_

Fabius, arch of

_Fabri ferrarii_

_Fabulae Atellanae_; palliatae;

_togatae_

_Familiae urbanae_

Fate

_Fercula_

_Feriae_

_Festa_

_Figuli_

Figulus, Nigidius

Flaccus, Verrius

Flamen Dialis;

Quirinalis

Flaminius

_Flammeum_

Florales, Ludi. _See_ Ludi Florales

_Foeneratores_

_Foenus_

Formiae, Cicero's villa at

Forum Boarium

Forum Romanum

Friedländer

Frontinus

_Fullones_

Funeral games

Furrina, the grove of

Gabinius

Gellius, Aulus

Genseric

Gilds. _See_ Collegia

Gladiators

Gracchus, Gaius

Gracchus, Tiberius

_Grammaticus_

_Grassatores_

Greeks

Hannibal

Hercules

Hirtius

_Honorum, ius_

Horace

Hortensius

Horti Caesaris

_Ientaculum_

_Impluvium_

_Institutio Oratoris_ (Quintilian's)

_Insulae_

_Inventione, De_ (Cicero's)

Isis, worship of

_Iura_

_Ius civile_

_Ius divinum_

_Ius gentium_

Janiculum, the

Janus, "temple" of

Julius Obsequens

Juno, temple of

Jupiter

Jupiter Farreus; Julius;

Optimus Maximus, temple of;

Stator, temple of

Juturna, spring of

"King," game of

Laberius

Lar

Lares, shrine of

_Latifundium_

Latina, Via. _See_ Via Latina

Latins, the

Latium

Law-courts, the

_Lectisternia_

_Lectus_; _consularis_

_genialis_

_Legibus, De_ (Cicero's)

Lentulus

Lepidus

Liberalia, the

_Libertinus_

Libertus

Liternum, Scipio's villa at

Livius Andronicus

Livy

Lucretius

Lucretius Vespillo, Q.

Lueullus

Ludi, Apollinares; Ceriales;

Florales;

Magni, _see_ Romani; Megalenses;

Novemdiales; Plebeii;

Romani;

Victoriae

Ludus Trojae

Lupercal, the

Lupercalia, the

_Magister_

Magna Mater

_Mancipes_

_Manes_

_Mangones_

_Manus_

Marcius Rex, Q.

Marius

Mars; temple of

Martial

_Matrimonium, iustum_

Megaleuses, Ludi. See Ludi Megalenses

_Mensa_

_Mensae_; _rationes_

_Meridiatio_

_Metae_, the

Metellus Celer

Metellus Macedonicus

Milo

Mimes

Minerva, temple of

_Missio in bona_

_Missus_

Molo

Mommsen

Money-lenders

_Moretum_ ("Virgil's")

_Mos majorum_

_Muliones_

_Munera_

_Nefas_

_Negotiatores_

_Negotium_

Nepos, Cornelius

Neptunalia, the

Nicomedes, king of Bithynia

Novemdiales, Ludi. _See_ Ludi Novemdiales

_Novas homo_

Numa

_Nummularii_

_Obaerati_

_Oecus_

_Officiis, De_ (Cicero's)

_Operarii_

_Opifices_

Oppia, lex

Oppius Mons

_Oratore, De_ (Cicero's)

Ordo equester;

senatorius

Oseans, the

Ostia

Ovid

Pacuvius

Palatine hill

_Palliatae, fabulae_. See _Fabulae

palliatae_

Panaetius

_Pantomimus_

_Participes_

_Patronus_

Paullus, L. Aemilius

_Paupereuli_

_Peculium_

Penates, the;

temple of the

Pergamum

_Peristylium_

_Permutatio_

_Pero_

_Perscriptio_

_Persona_

Phaedrus the Epicurean

Philippi, battle of

Philippus (tribune)

Philo the Academician

Philodemus

_Pietas_

Piso, Calpurnius

_Pistores_

Plaetoria, lex

Plautus

Plebeii, Ludi. _See_ Ludi Plebeii

Pliny, the elder; the younger

Plutarch

Pollio, Asinius

Polybius

Pomerium

Pompeii

Pompeius

house of

theatre of

Pomponia

Pons Aemilius

Ponte Rotto

Pontifex Maximus

Porta Capena

Carmentalis

Esquilina

Portunus

Posidonius

Praecia

_Praedes_

_Praediola_

Praetor, the

_Prandium_

Priesthoods

_Promagister_

_Pronuba_

Provinces, the

_Provocations_, _ius_

Ptolemy Auletes

_Publicani_

_Publicum_

Publilius Syrus

Punic wars

Puteoli, Cicero's villa at

_Puticulus_

Pythagoreanism

_Quaestiones Conviviales (Plutarch's)_

Quaestorship, the

Quintilian

Quirinal (hill)

Quirinus

Rabirius Postumus

_Redemptor_

Regia, the

_Religio_

Religion

_Repetundis, quaestio de_

_Republica, De_ (Cicero's)

_Res_, _mancipi_

_Rex, the_

_Rex sacrorum_

_Rhetorica ad Herennium_

Romulus

Roscius, the actor

Rostra, the

Rutilius

Sabines, the

_Saccarii_

_Sacra_,

_privata_;

_publica_;

via, _see_ Via Sacra

St. Peter, church of

Salaminians, the

Sallust

Samnium

San Gregorio, via di

Sarpedon

Sassia

Saturnalia, the

_Saturninus_

Saturnus, temple of

Scaevola, Mucius

Scaurus

Scipio Aemilianus,

Asiaticus,

Nasica,

Sempionia

Senate, the

Senatorius, ordo. _See_ Ordo senatorius

Senec,

"Servian wall"

Servilius

Sibylline books, the

Slaves

_Societates publicanorum_

_Socii_

_Sodalicia, collegia_. See _Collegia_

_Soleae_

_Somnium Scipionis_ (Cicero's)

Spanish silver mines

Spartacus

_Spina_

_Sponsalia_

_Sportula_

Stoics, the

_Stola matronalis_

Strabo

Subura, the

_Suffragii, ius_

Sulla

Sulla, P.

Sulpicius (S.), Rufus

Sun-dials

_Supplicationes_

_Synthesis_

_Tabellarii

Tabernae

Tabernae argentariae

Tablinum

Tabulae

Tabulae novae_

Tabularia, the

_Tepidarium_

Terence

Terentia

Theatre, the

Theatre, building of a

Thurii

Tiber

Tiber island

_Tibicines_

Tibur

Time, divisions of, in the day

Tiro (Cicero's slave)

_Tirocinium fori_

Titus, arch of

_Toga_; _libera_; _praetexta_; _virilis_

_Togatae, fabulae_. See _Fabulae togatae_

Tragedy

_Tributum_

_Triclinia_

Triumph, a

Trofei di Mario

Tullia (Cicero's daughter)

Tullianum, the

_Tunica_

Turia, the story of

Tusculum, Cicero's villa at

_Tutela_

_Tutor_

Twelve Tables, the

_Usus_

Valerius Maximus

Varro

Varro, Terentius (consul)

Veii

Velabrum, the

Velia, the

_Venationes_

Venus Victrix, temple of

Verres

Vesta; temple of

Vestal Virgins

Veterans, Roman

Via Aurelia; Appia; Collatina; Latina; Sacra

Victoriae, Ludi. See Ludi Victoriae

Vicus Tuscus

_Vilicus_

_Villa pseudurbana_

Vinalia, the

_Vindicta_

Virgil

Voconia, lex

Water-clocks, introduction of

THE END

APPENDIX

Page 1, l. 12. _totam aestimare Romam_: to appreciate Rome in its

entirety.

Page 3, l. 12. _Hinc ad Tarpeiam_, etc.: he leads him next to the

Tarpeian Rock and to the Capitol, now of gold, once thick with wild

bushes.

Page 4, l. 24. _Hinc septem_, etc.: from here you may see the seven

hills of the sovereign city, and appreciate Rome as a whole, the Alban

and the Tusculan hills, and all the cool suburban retreats.

Page 10, l. 1. _rerum_, etc. Rome became a supreme thing of beauty.

Page 10, l. 13. _nativa praesidia_: natural defences.

Page 10, l. 21. _regionum_, etc. A site in the middle of Italy,

singularly fitted by nature for the development of the city.

Page 17, l. 2. _nec ferrea_, etc.: nor has he seen the hardships of

the law, the mad forum, or the archives of the people.

Page 22, l. 2. _Ille, ille_, etc.: he it was, Jupiter himself, who

withstood the attack, he who willed it that the Capitol, that these

temples, that the whole city and you all should be safe.

Page 29, footnote 1. _in montibus_, etc.: built between mountains and

valleys, raised and almost suspended on high, through the stones of

its buildings, with its back streets.

Page 39, l. 6. _ubi semel_, etc.: he who has once strayed from the

right path will come to calamity.

Page 52, l. 11. _lanificium_: the working of wool.

Page 55, l. 26. _graffiti_: ancient scribblings, scratched, painted,

or otherwise marked on a wall, column, tablet, or other surface.

Page 61, l. 4. _quaestio de repetundis_: court for extortion.

Page 64, l. 15. _familiarem_, etc.: intimate with L. Lucullus,

wealthy, of intractable character.

Page 73, l. 14. _qui de censoribus_, etc.: whosoever shall have

secured a contract from the censors shall not be accepted as associate

or shareholder.

Page 73, footnote 2. _Asiatici_, etc.: of the public revenue of Asia,

he had a very small share.

Page 91, l. 3. _fortissimus_, etc.: a most powerful and important

farmer of the public revenue.

Page 93, l. 20. _insanum forum_: the forum in its maddening bustle.

Page 116, l. 12. _doctissimus_, etc.: the most learned of that time.

Page 121, l. 11. _monumentum_, etc.: a monument more enduring than

bronze.

Page 123, l. 20. _vere humanus:_ truly refined.

Page 127, l. 23. _omnia_, etc.: he transforms himself into all

portentous shapes.

Page 130, l. 20. _ménager ses transitions:_ to pass gradually over to

the other side.

Page 132, l. 18. _de vi:_ of criminal violence.

Page 133, l. 9. _Uni se_, etc.: they are addicted to one and the same

practice, that they may cautiously cheat and craftily contend, outdo

each other in blandishments, feign honesty, set snares as if they were

all enemies to each other.

Page 133, l. 28. _rari nantes_, etc.: few and scattered swimmers in

the vast abyss.

Page 142 (bottom). _Claudite_, etc.: close the doors, maidens, enough

have we sung. And you, noble couple, live happily and apply your

vigorous youth to the assiduous task of wedlock.

Page 149, footnote 2. _Si quid_, etc.: if a woman act reprehensibly or

disgracefully, he punishes her; if she has drunk wine, if she has done

something wrong with a stranger, he condemns her. If you surprise your

wife in the act of adultery, you may with impunity kill her without

any form of judgment; but if she caught you in adultery, she would not

dare touch you, for she has no right.

Page 150, l. 11. _liberorum_, etc.: in order to have children.

Page 155, l. 22. _Odi_, etc.: I hate and I love. You ask perhaps how

that can be. I do not know, I feel it, and am distressed.

Page 155 (bottom). _Elle apportait_, etc.: she revealed in her private

behavior, in her affections, the same vehemence and the same passion

which her brother showed in public life. Ready for all excesses, and

not blushing to confess them, loving and hating with fury, incapable

of controlling herself, and opposed to all constraint, she did not

belie the great and haughty family from which she was sprung.

Page 178,1. 3. _rusticorum_, etc.:

The farmer-soldier's manly brood

Was trained to delve the Sabine sod,

And at an austere mother's nod

To hew and fetch the fagot wood.

Page 178, l. 20. _Maxima_, etc.: the greatest concern must be shown

for children.

Page 185, l. 8. _Avarus_, etc.:

The covetous is the cause of his own misery.

Bravery is increased by daring and fear by hesitation.

You can more easily discover fortune than cling to it.

The wrath of the just is to be dreaded.

A man dies every time that he is bereft of his kin.

Man is loaned, not given to life.

The best strife is rivalry in benignity.

Nothing is pleasing unless renewed by variety.

Bad is the plan which cannot be altered.

Less often would you err if you knew how much you don't know.

He who shows clemency always comes out victorious.

He who respects his oath succeeds in everything.

Where old age is at fault youth is badly trained.

Page 187, l. 7. _Grais_, etc.: the muse gave genius to the Greeks and

the pride of language, covetous of nothing but of praise. But the

Roman youths by long reckonings learn to split the coin into a hundred

parts. Let young Albinus say: "If you take one away from five pence,

what results?" "A groat." Good, you'll thrive.

Page 189, l. 1. In _grammaticis_, etc.: in the study of literature,

the perusal of the poets, the knowledge of history, the interpretation

of words, the peculiar tone of pronunciation.

Page 191, l. 9. _Orator est_, etc.: an orator, my son, is an upright

man skilled in speaking.

Page 191, l. 11. _Rem tene_, etc.: master the subject; the words will

follow.

Page 196, l. 9. _vir bonus_, etc.: see page 191, l. 9.

Page 196, l. 13. _Non enim_, etc.: eloquence and oratorical aptness

obtain good results if they be swayed by a right understanding and by

the discretion and control of the mind.

Page 210, footnote 1. _Mancipiis_, etc.: avoid being like the

Cappadocian monarch, rich in slaves and penniless in purse.

Page 211, footnote 1. _pone aedem_, etc.: behind the temple of Castor

are those to whom you'd be sorry to lend money.

Page 215, l. 18. _An te ibi_, etc.: would you stay there among those

harlots, prostitutes of bakers, leavings of the breadmakers, smeared

with rank cosmetics, nasty devotees of slaves?

Page 216, footnote 2. _agrum_, etc.: in cultivating the fields or in

hunting, servile occupations, etc.

Page 233, l. 5. _Nec turpe_, etc.: what a master commands cannot be

disgraceful.

Page 233, footnote 3. _Coli rura_, etc.: it is a bad practice to fill

the fields with men from the workhouse, or to have anything done by

men who are forsaken by hope.

Page 235, footnote 2. _Regum_, etc.: we have taken the tyrant's

temper.

Page 239, l. 10. _ante focos_, etc.: it was customary once to take

places in the long benches before the fireplace, and to trust that the

gods were present at our table.

Page 246, l. 5. _nunc vero_, etc.: but now from morning till evening,

on holidays and working days, the whole people, senators and

commoners, busy themselves in the forum and retire nowhere, etc. (See

page 133, l. 9, and translation of that passage.)

Page 246, footnote 2. _Urbem_, etc.: remain in the city, Rufus; stay

there and live in that light. All foreign travel is humble and lowly

for those that can work for the greatness of Rome.

Page 247, footnote 1. _Frequens_, etc.: constant change of abode is a

sign of unstable mind.

Page 248, l. 12. _contentio_, etc.: not a straining of the mind, but a

relaxation.

Page 259, l. 12. _locus_, etc.: a pleasant site, on the sea itself,

and can be seen from Antium and Circeii.

Page 265, footnote 3. _Ut illum_, etc.: may the gods confound him who

first invented the hours, and who first placed a sundial in this city.

Pity on me! They have cut up my day in compartments. Once when I was

a boy my stomach was my clock, and it was much more fitting and

reliable; it never failed to warn me except when there was nothing;

now, even when there is something, there is no eating unless it so

please the sun. For the whole city is full of sun-dials, and most of

the people crawl on in need of food and drink.

Page 269, footnote 1. _Romae_, etc.: in Rome it was for a long time a

joy and a pride to open up the house at early morning and attend to

the legal needs of the clients.

Page 275, l. 20. _Nesciit vivere_: he did not know how to live.

Page 277, l. 10. _ad noctem_: late into the night.

Page 280, l. 17. _Saepe tribus_, etc.: often you would see three

couches with four guests apiece.

Page 283, l. 21. [Greek: Emetikhaeu], etc.: he was under the

emetic cure, and consequently ate and drank freely and with much

satisfaction; and everything certainly was good and well served; nay

more, I may say that

"Though the cook was good,

'Twas Attic salt that flavored best the food."

Page 283, footnote 1. _qua lege_, etc.: which law did not determine

the expense, but the kind of victuals and the manner of cooking them.

Page 285, l. 11. _Agricolo_, etc.: the farmer is the first who after

a long day of toil in the fields adapted rustic songs to the laws of

metre; the first in satisfied leisure to modulate a song on his reed,

which he would say before the gods decked with flowers. It was the

farmer, O Bacchus, who with his face colored with reddish minium,

taught his untrained feet the first movements of the dance.

Page 287, l. 13. _Quippe etiam_, etc.: for even on holy days, divine

and human laws allow us to perform certain works. No religion has

forbidden to clear the channels, to raise a fence before the corn, to

lay snares for birds, to fire the thorns, and plunge in the wholesome

river a flock of bleating sheep.

Page 303, l. 2. _lex de ambitu_: law concerning the courting of

popular favor in canvassing.

Page 307, l. 4. _Eandem_, etc.: a time will come when you will bewail

that valor of yours.

Page 309, l. 7. _Spectatum_, etc.: they come to see, but they come

also to be seen.

Page 313, l. 27. _summuts artifex_: consummate artist.

Page 314, l. 3. _gravis_: serious.

Page 314, l. 4. _gravitas_: seriousness.

Page 315, l. 14. _Fescennina_, etc.: the rude Fescennine farce grew

from rites like these, where rustic taunts were hurled in alternate

verse; and the pleasing license, tolerated from year to year,

gambolled, etc.

Page 317, l. 18. _Nihil mihi_, etc.: know well that I lacked nothing

except company with whom to laugh in a friendly way and intelligently

over these things.

Page 324, l. 28. _mos maiorum_: the customs of our ancestors.

Page 327, l. 12. _Felix_, etc.: blessed is he who succeeded in knowing

the causes of events.

Page 327, l. 16. _Fortunatus_, etc.: fortunate he also who knows the

rustic gods.

Page 333, l. 6. _lectisternia_: a feast of the gods during which their

images on pillars were placed in the streets.

Page 333, l. 6. _supplicationes_: religious solemnities for

supplication.

Page 333, l. 6. _ludi_: games.

Page 339, l. 23. _numen_: godhead, deity.

Page 340, footnote 3. _idem etiam_, etc.: he says also that Jupiter is

the power of this law, eternal and immutable, which is the guide, so

to speak, of our life and the principle of our duties; a law which he

calls a fatal necessity, an eternal truth of future things.

Page 341, l. 15. _qua_: as.

Page 341, l. 26. _O qui res_, etc.: thou who rulest with eternal sway

the doings of men and gods.

Page 342, l. 1. _Olli_, etc.: the sire of men and gods, smiling to

her with that aspect wherewith he clears the tempestuous sky, gently

kissed his daughter's lips; then thus replies: Cytherea, cease from

fear; immovable to thee remain the fates of thy people.

Page 351, l. 13. _Iuppiter_, etc.: Jove reserved these shores for the

just, when he alloyed the golden age with brass; with brass, then with

iron he hardened the ages, from which there shall be a happy escape

according to my predictions.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Martial iv. 64. 12.]

[Footnote 2: _Aen_. viii. 90. foll. The Capitoline hill, which Virgil

means by "arx" a conspicuous object from the river just below the

Aventine, and would have been much more conspicuous in the poet's

time. There is a view of it from this point in Burn's _Rome and the

Campagna_, p. 184.]

[Footnote 3: Plutarch, _Cato minor_ 39. Cato was expected to land

at the commercial docks _below_ the Aventine (see below), where the

senate and magistrates were awaiting him, but with his usual rudeness

rowed past them to the navalia.]

[Footnote 4: _Aen._ viii. 363. Possibly Virgil meant to put this

dwelling on the site of the future Regia, just below the Palatine and

between it and the Forum. See Servius _ad loc._]

[Footnote 5: The modern visitor would cross by the Ponte Rotto, which

is in the same position as the ancient bridge, just below the Tiber

island.]

[Footnote 6: Livy v. 54.]

[Footnote 7: The Fratres Arvales.]

Social life at Rome in the Age of Cicero · 第 11 / 12 章