A History of Roman Literature by Charles Thomas Cruttwell
C >>
Charles Thomas Cruttwell >> A History of Roman Literature
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 | 37 |
38 |
39 |
40 |
41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49 |
50 |
51 |
52
Thus confident but unassuming, he proceeds to the communication of wisdom.
And of the two domains, while he acknowledges both to be legitimate, [15]
he himself prefers the second. He is no writer for the crowd; his chosen
audience is a few selected spirits. To such as these he wished to be
director of conscience, guide, and adviser in all matters, bodily as well
as spiritual. This was the calling for which, like Fenelon, he felt the
keenest desire, the fullest aptitude. We see his power in it when we read
his _Consolations_; we see the intimate sympathy which dives into the
heart of his friend. In the letters to Lucilius, and in the _Tranquillity
of the Soul_, this is most conspicuous. Serenus had written complaining of
a secret unhappiness or malady, he knew not which, that preyed upon his
mind and frame, and would not let him enjoy a moment's peace. Seneca
analyses his complaint, and expounds it with a vivid clearness which
betrays a first-hand acquaintance with its symptoms. If to that anguish of
a spirit that preys on itself could be added the pains of a yearning
unknown to antiquity, we might say that Seneca was enlightening or
comforting a Werther or a Rene. [16]
Seneca's object, therefore, was remedial; to discover the malady and apply
the restorative. The good teacher is _artifex vivendi_. [17] He does not
state principles, he gives minute precepts for every circumstance of life.
Here we see casuistry entering into morals, but it is casuistry of a noble
sort. To be effective precepts must be repeated, and with every variety of
statement. "To knock once at the door when you come at night is never
enough; the blow must be hard, and it must be seconded. [18] Repetition is
not a fault, it is a necessity." Here we see the lecturer emphasising by
reiteration what he has to say.
And what has he to say? His system taken in its main outlines is rigid
enough; the quenching of all emotion, the indifference to all things
external, the prosecution of virtue alone, the mortification of the body
and its desires, the adoption of voluntary poverty. These are views not
only severe in themselves, but views which we are surprised to see a man
like Seneca inculcate. The truth is he does not really inculcate them. In
theory rigid, his system _practises_ easily. It is more full of
concessions than any other system that was ever broached. It is the
inevitable result of an ambitious creed that when applied to life it
should teem with inconsistencies. Seneca deserves praise for the
conspicuous cleverness with which he steers over such dangerous shoals.
The rigours of "virtue unencumbered" might be preached to a patrician
whose honoured name made obscurity impossible; but as for the freedmen,
capitalists, and _nouveaux riches_ [19] of all kinds, who were Seneca's
friends, if poverty was necessary for virtue, where would they be? Their
greatness was owing solely to their wealth. Thus he wisely offered them a
more accommodating doctrine, viz., that riches being indifferent need not
be given up, that the good rich man differs from the bad in spirit, not in
externals, &c., palliatives with which we are all familiar. To take
another instance. The Stoic system forbade all emotion. Yet we find the
philosopher weeping for his wife, for his child, for his slave. But he was
far too sensible not to recognise the nobleness of such expressions of
feeling; so he contents himself with saying "_indulgeantur non
imperentur_." [20]
In reading the letters we are struck by the continual reference to the
insecurity of riches, the folly of fearing death, torture, or infamy, and
are tempted to regard these as mere commonplaces of the schools. They had,
however, a melancholy fitness at the time they were uttered, which we,
fortunately, cannot realise. A French gentleman, quoted by Boissier, [21]
declared that he found the moral letters tedious until the reign of terror
came; that then, being in daily peril of his life, he understood their
searching power. At the same time this power is not consistent; the
vacillation of the author's mind communicates itself to the person
addressed, and the clear grasp of a definite principle which lent such
strength to Zeno and the early Stoics is indefinitely diluted in the far
more eloquent and persuasive reflections of his Roman representative.
Connected with the name of Seneca is a question of surpassing interest,
which it would be unjust to our readers to pass entirely by. We allude to
the belief universal in the Church from the time of Jerome until the
sixteenth century, and in spite of strong disproof, not yet by any means
altogether given up, that Seneca was personally acquainted with St. Paul,
[22] and borrowed some of his noblest thoughts from the Apostle's
teaching. The first testimony to this belief is given by Jerome, [23] who
assigns, as his sole and convincing reason for naming Seneca among the
worthies of the Church that his correspondence with Paul was extant. This
correspondence, which will be found in Haase's edition of the philosopher,
is now admitted on all hands to be a forgery. But we might naturally ask;
Does it not point to an actual correspondence which is lost, the
traditional remembrance of which gave rise to its later fictitious
reproduction? To this the answer must be: Jerome knew of no such early
tradition. All he knew was that the letters existed, and on their
existence, which he did not critically investigate, he founded his claim
to admit Seneca within the Church's pale.
The problem is by no means so simple as it appears. It involves two
separate questions: first, a historical one which has only an antiquarian
interest, Did the philosopher know the Apostle? secondly, a more important
one for the history of religious thought, Do Seneca's writings contain
matter which could have come from no source but the teaching of the first
Christians.
As regards the first question, the arguments on both sides are as
follows:--On the one hand, Gallio, who saw Paul at Corinth, was Seneca's
brother, and Burrus, the captain of the praetorian cohort, before whom he
was brought at Rome, was Seneca's most intimate friend. What so likely as
that these men should have introduced their prisoner to one whose chief
object was to find out truth? Again, there is a well authenticated
tradition that Acte, once the concubine of Nero, [24] and the only person
who was found to bury him, was a convert to the Christian faith; and if
converted, who so likely to have been her converter as the great Apostle?
Moreover, in the Epistle to the Philippians, St. Paul salutes "them that
are of Caesar's household," and it is thought that Seneca may here be
specially intended. On the other side it is argued that the phrase,
"Caesar's household," can only refer to slaves and freedmen: to apply it
to a great magistrate at a time when as yet noblemen had not become body-
servants or grooms of the chamber to the monarch, would have been nothing
short of an insult; that Seneca, if he had heard of Paul or of Paul's
Master, would naturally have mentioned the fact, communicative as he
always is; that fear of persecution certainly need not have restrained
him, especially since he rather liked shocking people's ideas than
otherwise; that everywhere he shows contempt and nothing but contempt for
the Jews, among whom as yet the Christians were reckoned; in short, that
he appears to know nothing whatever of Christians or their doctrines.
As to this latter point there is room for difference of opinion. It is by
no means clear that Christianity was unknown to the court in Nero's reign.
We find in Suetonius [25] a notice to the effect that Claudius banished
the Jews from Rome for a sedition headed by _Chrestus_. How Suetonius knew
well enough that Christus, not Chrestus, was the name of the Founder of
the new religion; it is therefore reasonable to suppose that in this
passage he is quoting from a police-magistrate's report dating from the
time of Claudius. Again, it is certain that under Nero the Christians were
known as an unpopular sect, on whom he might safely wreak his mock
vengeance for the burning of the city; and it is equally certain that his
abominable cruelty excited a warm sympathy among the people for the
persecuted. [26] The Jews were well known; hundreds practised their
ceremonies in secret; even as early as Horace [27] we know that Sabbaths
were kept, and the Mosaic doctrines taught to noble men and women. The
penalties inflicted on these innocent victims must have been at least
talked of in Rome, and it is more than probable that Seneca must have been
familiar with the name of the despised sect. [28] So far, therefore, we
must leave the question open, only stating that while the balance of
probability is decidedly against Seneca's having had any personal
knowledge of the Apostle, it is in favour of his having at least heard of
the religion he represented.
With regard to the second question, whether Seneca's teaching owes
anything to Christianity, we must first observe, that philosophy to him
was altogether a question of practice. Like all the other thinkers of the
time he cared nothing for consistency of opinion, everything for
impressiveness of application. He was Stoic, Platonist, Epicurean, as
often as it suited him to employ their principles to enforce a moral
lesson. Thus in his _Naturales Quaestiones_, [29] where he has no moral
object in view, he speaks of the Deity as _Mens Universi_, or _Natura
ipsa_, quite in accordance with Stoic pantheism. But in the letters to
Lucilius, which are wholly moral, he uses the language of religion: "The
great soul is that which yields itself up to God;" [30] "All that pleases
Him is good;" [31] "He is a friend never far off;" [32] "He is our
Father;" [33] "It is from Him that great and good resolutions come;" [34]
"He is worshipped and loved;" [35] "Prayer is a witness to His care for
us." [36] There is no doubt in these passages a strong resemblance to the
teaching of the New Testament. There are other points of contact hardly
less striking. The Stoic doctrine of the soul affirms the cessation of
existence after death. So Zeno taught; but Chrysippus allowed the souls of
the good an existence until the end of the world, and Cleanthes extended
this privilege to all souls alike. Seneca sometimes speaks as a Stoic,
[37] and denies immortality: sometimes he admits it as an ennobling
belief; [38] sometimes he declares it to be his own conviction, [39] and
uses the beautiful expression, so common in Christian literature, that the
day of death is the birth-day of eternity. [40] The coincidence, if it is
nothing more than a coincidence, is marvellous. But before assuming any
closer connection we must take these passages with their respective
contexts, and with the principles which, whether consistently maintained
or not, undoubtedly underlie his whole teaching. We must remember that if
Seneca had known the Gospel, the day he first heard of it must have been
an epoch in his life. [41] And yet we meet with no allusion which could be
construed into an admission of such a debt. And besides, the expressions
in question do not all belong to one period of the philosopher's life;
they occur in his earliest as well as in his latest compositions, though
doubtless far more frequently in the latter. Hence we may explain them
partly by the natural progress in enlightenment and gentleness during the
century from Cicero to Seneca, and partly also by the moral development of
the philosopher himself. [42] Resemblances of terms, however striking,
must not count for more than they are worth. It is more important to ask
whether the _spirit_ of Seneca's teaching is at all like that of the
Gospel. Are his ideas Christian? We meet with strong recommendations to
charity, kindness, benevolence. To a splenetic acquaintance, out of humour
with the world, he cries out, _ecquando amabis_? "When will you learn to
love?" [43] But with him charity is not an end; it is but a means to
fortify the sage, to render him absolutely self-sufficient. _Egoism_ is at
the bottom of this high precept; [44] and this at once removes it from the
Christian category. And the same is true of his account of the wise man's
relations to God. They are based on _pride_, not humility; they make him
an equal, not a servant, of the Deity: _Sapiem cum dis ex pari trivit_;
[45] and again, _Deo socius non supplex_. [46] Nothing could be further
from the New Testament than this. If therefore Seneca borrowed anything
from Christianity, it was the morality, not the doctrines, that he
borrowed. But this is no sooner stated than it is seen to be altogether
inconceivable. To suppose that he took from it precepts of life and
neglected the higher truths it announced, is to regard him as foolish or
blind. With his intense yearning to penetrate to the mysteries of our
being, it is impossible that the only solution of them offered as certain
to the world should have been neglected by him as not worth a thought.
[47]
We therefore conclude that Seneca received no assistance from the
preachers of the new religion, that his philosophy was the natural
development of the thoughts of his predecessors in a mind at once
capacious and smitten with the love of virtue. He cannot be regarded as an
isolated phenomenon; he was made by the ages, as he in his turn helped to
make the ages that followed; and if we possessed the writings of those
intermediate thinkers who busily wrought among the citizens of Rome,
striving by persuasion, precept, and example, to wean them from their
sensuality and violence, we should probably see in Seneca's thoughts a
less astounding individuality than we do.
It has often been said that he prepared the way for Christianity. But even
this is hard to defend. In his enunciation of the brotherhood of man, [48]
of the unholiness of war, [49] of the sanctity of human life, [50] of the
rights of slaves, [51] and their claims to our affection, [52] in his
reprobation of gladiatorial shows, he holds the place of a moral pioneer,
the more honourable, since none of those before him, except Cicero, had
had largeness of heart enough to recognise these truths. By his fierce
attacks on paganism, [53] for which (not being a born Roman) he has no
sympathy and no mercy, he did good service to the pure creed that was to
follow. By his contempt of science, [54] in which he asserts we can never
be more than children, he paved the way for a recognition of the supremacy
of the moral end; but at the same time his own mind is sceptical quite as
much as it is religious. He resembles Cicero far more than Virgil. The
current after Augustus ran towards belief and even credulity. Seneca
arrests rather than forwards it. His philosophy was the proudest that ever
boasted of its claims, "Promittit ut parem Deo faciat." [55] His
popularity was excessive, especially with the young and wealthy members of
the new nobility of freedmen. The old Romans avoided him, and his great
successors in philosophy, Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, never even
mention his name.
As a man of letters Seneca wielded an incalculable influence. What Lucan
did for poetry, he did for prose, or rather, he did far more; while Lucan
never superseded Virgil as a model except for expression, Seneca not only
superseded Cicero, but set the style in which every succeeding author
either wrote, tried to write, or tried _not_ to write. To this there is
one exception--the younger Pliny. But Florus, Tacitus, Pliny the elder,
and Curtius, are deeply imbued with his manner and style. Quintilian,
though anxiously eschewing all imitation of him, continually falls into
it; there was a charm about those short, incisive sentences which none who
had read them could resist; as Tacitus well says, there was in him
_ingenium amoenum et temporis eius auribus accommodatum_. It is in vain
that Quintilian goes out of his way to bewail his broken periods, his
wasted force, his sweet vices. The words of Seneca are like those
described in Ecclesiastes, "they are as goads or as nails driven in."
There is no possibility of missing their point, no fear of the attention
not being arrested. If he repeats over and over again, that is after all a
fault that can be pardoned, especially when each repetition is more
brilliant than its predecessor. And considering the end he proposed to
himself, viz., to teach those who as yet were "novices in wisdom," we can
hardly regard such a mode of procedure as beside the mark. Where it fails
is in what touches Seneca himself, not in what touches the reader. It is a
style which does injustice to its author's heart. Its glitter strikes us
as false because too brilliant to be true; a man in earnest would not stop
to trick his thoughts in the finery of rhetoric; here as ever, the showy
stands for the bad. We do not intend to defend the character of the man;
if style be the true reflex of the soul, as in all great writers without
doubt it is, we allow that Seneca's style shows a mind wanting in gravity,
that is, in the highest Roman excellence. His is the bright enthusiasm of
display, not the steady one of duty; but though it be lower it need not be
less real. There are warriors who meet their death with a song and a gay
smile; there are others who meet it with stern and sober resolve. But
courage calls both her children. Christian Europe has been kinder and
juster to Seneca than was pagan Rome. Rome while she copied, abused him.
Neither as Spaniard nor as Roman can he claim the name of sage. The higher
philosophy is denied to both these nations. But in brilliancy of touch, in
delicious _abandon_ of sparkling chat, all the more delightful because it
does us good in genial human feeling, none the less warm, because it is
masked by quaint apophthegms and startling paradoxes, Seneca stands
_facile princeps_ among the writers of the Empire. His works are a mine of
quotation, of anecdote, of caustic observations on life. In no other
writer shall we see so speaking a picture of the struggle between duty and
pleasure, between virtue and ambition; from no other writer shall we gain
so clear an insight into the hopes, fears, doubts, and deep, abiding
dissatisfaction which preyed upon the better spirits of the age.
CHAPTER IV.
THE REIGNS OF CALIGULA, CLAUDIUS, AND NERO.
3. OTHER PROSE WRITERS.
We have dwelt fully on Seneca because he is of all the Claudian writers
the one best fitted to appear as a type of the time. There were, however,
several others of more or less note who deserve a short notice. There is
the historian DOMITIUS CORBULO, [1] who wrote under Caligula (39 A.D.) a
history of his campaigns in Asia, and to whom Pliny refers as an authority
on topographical and ethnographical questions. He was executed by Nero (67
A.D.) and his wealth confiscated to the crown.
Another historian is QUINTUS CURTIUS, whose date has been disputed, some
placing him as early as Augustus, in direct contradiction to the evidence
of his style, which is moulded on that of Seneca, and of his political
ideas, which are those of hereditary monarchy. Others again place him as
late as the time of Severus, an opinion to which Niebuhr inclined. But it
is more probable that he lived in the time of Claudius and the early years
of Nero. [2] His work is entitled _Historiae Alexandri Magni_, and is
drawn from Clitarchus, Timagenes, and Ptolomaeus. It consisted of ten
books, of which all but the first two have come down to us. He paid more
attention to style than matter, showing neither historical criticism nor
original research, but putting down everything that looked well in the
relating, even though he himself did not believe it.
Spain was at this time very rich in authors. For more than half a century
she gave the Empire most of its greatest names. The entire epoch has been
called that of Spanish Latinity. L. JUNIUS MODERATUS COLUMELLA was born at
Gades, probably [3] near the beginning of our era. His grandfather was a
man of substance in that part of the province, and a most successful
farmer; it was from him that he imbibed that love of agricultural pursuits
which led him to write his learned and elegant treatise. This treatise,
which has come down to us entire, and consists of twelve books, was
intended to form part of an exhaustive treatment of the subject of
agriculture, including the incidental questions (_e.g._ those of religion)
[4] connected with it. It was expanded and improved from a smaller essay,
of which we still possess certain fragments. The work is written in a
clear, comprehensive way, drawn not only from the best authorities, but
from the author's personal experience. Like a true Roman (it is
astonishing how fully these provincials entered into the mind of Rome) he
descants on the dignity of the subject, on the lapse from old virtue, on
the idleness of men who will not labour on their land and draw forth its
riches, and on the necessity of taking up husbandry in a practical
business-like way. The tenth book, which treats of gardens, is written in
smooth verse, closely imitated from the _Georgics_. It is in fact intended
as a fifth _Georgic. Virgil had said [5] with reference to gardens:
"Verum haec ipse equidem spatiis exclusus iniqnis
Praetereo, atque aliis post me memoranda relinquo."
These words are an oracle to Columella. "I should have written my tenth
book in prose," he says, "had not your frequent requests that I would fill
up what was wanting to the _Georgics_ got the better of my resolution.
Even so, I should not have ventured on poetry if Virgil had not indicated
that he wished it to be done. Inspired, therefore, by his divine
influence, I have approached my slender theme." The verses are good,
though their poetical merit is somewhat on the level of a university prize
poem. They conclude thus:
"Hactenus arvorum cultus Silvine docebam
Siderei referens vatis praecepta Maronis."
Among scientific writers we possess a treatise by SCRIBONIUS LARGUS (47
A.D.) on _Compositiones Medicae_, which is characterised by Teuffel as
"not altogether nonsensical, and in tolerable style, although tinged with
the general superstition of the period." The critic Q. ASCONIUS PEDIANUS
(3-88 A.D.) is more important. He devoted his life to an elaborate
exegesis of the great Latin classics, more particularly Cicero. His
commentary on the _Orations_, of which we possess considerable fragments,
[6] is written with sound sense, and in a clear pointed style. Some
commentaries on the _Verrine Speeches_ which bear his name, are the work
of a much later hand, though perhaps drawn in great part from him. Another
series of notes, extending to a considerable number of orations, was
discovered by Mai, [7] but these also have been retouched by a later hand.
An interesting treatise on primitive geography, manners and customs
(_Chronographia_) which we still possess, was written by POMPONIUS MELA,
of Tingentera in Spain. Like Curtius he has obviously imitated Seneca; his
account is too concise, but he intended and perhaps carried out elsewhere
a fuller treatment of the subject.
The two studies which despotism had done so much to destroy, oratory and
jurisprudence, still found a few votaries. The chief field for speaking
was the senate, where men like Crispus, Eprius Marcellus, and Suillius the
accuser of Seneca, exercised their genius in adroit flattery. Thrasea,
Helvidius, and the opposition, were compelled to study repression rather
than fulness. As jurists we hear of few eminent names: Proculus and
Cassius Longinus are the most prominent.
Grammar was successfully cultivated by VALERIUS PROBUS, who undertook the
critical revision of the texts of the Latin classics, much as the
Alexandrine grammarians had done for those of Greece. He was originally
destined for public life, but through want of success betook himself to
study. After his arrival at Rome he gave public lectures on philology,
which were numerously attended, and he seems to have retained the
affection of all his pupils. His oral notes were afterwards edited in an
epistolary form. The work _De Notis Antiquis_, or at least a portion of
it, _De Iuris Notis_, has come down to us in a slightly abridged form;
also a short treatise called _Catholica_, treating of the noun and verb,
though it is uncertain whether this is authentic. [8] Another work on
grammar is attributed to him, but as it is evidently at least three
centuries later than this date, several critics have supposed it to be by
a second Probus, also a grammarian, who lived at that period.
We shall conclude the chapter with a notice of an extraordinary book, the
_Satires_, which pass under the name of PETRONIUS ARBITER. Who he was is
not certainly known; but there was a Petronius in the time of Nero, whose
death (66 A.D.), is recorded by Tacitus, [9] and who is generally
identified with him. This account has often been quoted; nevertheless we
may insert it here: "His days were passed in sleep, his nights in business
and enjoyment. As others rise to fame by industry, so he by idleness; and
he gained the reputation, not like most spendthrifts of a profligate or
glutton, but of a cultured epicure. His words and deeds were welcomed as
models of graceful simplicity in proportion as they were morally lax and
ostentatiously indifferent to appearances. While proconsul, however, in
Bithynia he showed himself vigorous and equal to affairs. Then turning to
vice, or perhaps simulating it, he became a chosen intimate of Nero, and
his prime authority (_arbiter_) in all matters of taste, so that he
thought nothing delicate or charming except what Petronius had approved.
This raised the envy of Tigellinus, who regarded him as a rival purveyor
of pleasure preferred to himself. Consequently he traded on the cruelty of
Nero, a vice to which all others gave place, by accusing Petronius of
being a friend to Scaevinus, having bribed a slave to give the
information, and removed the means of defence by hurrying almost all
Petronius's slaves into prison. Caesar was then in Campania, and
Petronius, who had gone to Cumae, was arrested there. He determined not to
endure the suspense of hope and fear. But he did not hurry out of life; he
opened his veins gently, and binding them up from time to time, chatted
with his friends, not on serious topics or such as might procure him the
fame of constancy, nor did he listen to any conversation on immortality or
the doctrines of philosophers, but only to light verses on easy themes. He
pensioned some of his slaves, chastised others. He feasted and lay down to
rest, that his compulsory death might seem a natural one. In his will he
did not, like most of the condemned, flatter Nero, or Tigellinus, or any
of the powerful, but satirized the emperor's vices under the names of
effeminate youths and women, giving a description of each new kind of
debauchery. These he sealed and sent to Nero." Many have thought that in
the _Satires_ we possess the very writing to which Tacitus refers. But to
this it is a sufficient answer that they consisted of sixteen books, far
too many to have been written in two days. They must have been prepared
before, and perhaps the most caustic of them were selected for the
emperor's perusal. The fragment that remains is from the fifteenth and
sixteenth books, and is a mixture of verse and prose in excellent
Latinity, but deplorably and offensively obscene. Nothing can give a
meaner idea of the social culture of Rome than this production of one of
her most accomplished masters of self-indulgence. As, however, it is
important from a literary, and still more from an antiquarian point of
view, we add a short analysis of its contents.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 | 37 |
38 |
39 |
40 |
41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49 |
50 |
51 |
52