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A. W. M. LUCAS COLLINS.Ancient Classics for English Readers EDI'lED BY THE REV. CICERO .

M. BY Clifton W. -.D. by the Same. HORACE. Grant. Collins. LL. by various Contributors. VIRGIL. M.A. Brodribb. PLINY. C^SAR. J.— The Voluines published of this Series contain HOMER THE : ILIAD.. BY A. and VV.. by the Editor. BY THE Editor.A. Church. following Authors. A Volume will be published Quarterly. . are : in preparation hesiod. SOPHOCLES.- TERENCE. .A. EURIPIDES. BY Sir Alex. CICERO. PLAUTUS. Bodham Donnk JUVENAL.A. HERODOTUS. price $i.oo.. TACITUS. XENOPHON. Bart. ^SCHYLUS. by George C. BY the Editor. BY William M. HOMER: THE ODYSSEY. BY Theodore Martin. Others will follow. M. BY Reginald S.A. M. Copleston. M. The BY Edward Walford. LUCIAN. Swayne.A. by Anthony Trollope.

B.' 'the public schools. LIPPINCOTT I & CO.A.CICERO BY THE REV. LUCAS COLLINS. 8 73- . ^IPOR^ PHILADELPHIA: J.' etc. W. author of M. •ktoniana.

n r^ ^1 1 3^^2^^ .

AG M r 13^3 1^ /a/ HAVE to acknowledge ' my obligations to Mr Forsyth's his Orations well-known Life of Cicero. . For the translations. W. Mr Long's scholarly volumes have also been found useful. such as they If I could have satisfactory. to met with any which seemed me more would gladly have adopted them. C. are.' especially as a guide to the biographical materials which abound in and Letters. L. I I am responsible.

.

. . VI. CICERO's CORRESPONDENCE. •• I. BIOGRAPHICAL— EARLY LIFK AND EDUCATION.. . PAOK CHAP.* 140 153 187 XL CICERo's PHILOSOPHY ». . M II VII. « THE CONSULSHIP AND CATII'l-'^E. •• EXILE AND RETURN. CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR. MINOR CHARACTERISTICS. X. ESSAYS ON OLD AGE' AND 'FRIENDSHIP. .CON T E N T S. .116 . MENT OF VERUES. . IX. 1. 69 75 89 II . CICERO's RELIGION.. II 1 n. 13 III.. 108 n n •I . PUBLIC CAREER — IMPEACH. CICERO AND CESAR. XII. VIII. . . .. V. II .. 30 51 •I IV. . CICERO AND ANTONY. " » .

.

' ' Ancient * we must Ancient the remeralDer that the word ancient is to be taken with a considerable all difference. EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. CHAPTER I. c. was in its comparative infancy. there often a difference which not merely one of date. But in this sense there are ancient litera- authors belouging to every nation which has a ture of its own. The poetry- of Hesiod is ancient. of Classics. the history A. When we the * speak. ix. The chronicles of Herodotus are ancient. A . as having been sung Homer and and written when the society in which the authors lived. Viewed in this light. in one sense. as dated comparatively with our era. and to which they addressed themselves. partly from their subject-matter and partly from their primitive style. vol. Rut as is to antique character of is their writings.CICERO. the Greek and Roman modern authors are. in the language of our title-page.

Ij EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. the . and MattheAV of Paris. more so than the middle ages of Christendom. . than between the consulships of Cuesar and Kapoleon. and scarcely anything ancient about them. was in an old but humble country-house. their Let us be thankful if the most frightful of It vices were the exclusive shame of paganism. but even between the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel and the Epistles of St Paul there is and Froissart. are far a far wider real interval than the mere lapse of centuries. was not much lower than that Avhich was held by some great statesmen a generation or two and again in the last before us. the ways of thinking. the times of Cicero. Be- tween the times of our own Plantagenets and Georges. In one respect. there is The far scenes and actors are modern — terribly modern. should have more interest for a modern reader than most of what is called Ancient History. The several books which make up what we call the Bible are all ancient. debased as it was. and Chaucer. there is a far wider gap. in all but years. no doubt. more redolent of antiquity. the family affections. in spite of their complicated politics. of Thiicydides. The habits of life. Bede. are not ancient at all. for instance. neai town of Arpinum. were in many respects wonderfully like our own the political jealousies and rivalries have repeated themselves again : two or three centuries of Europe their code of political honour and morality. the tastes of the Eomans of Cicero's day. under the Volscian hills. the letters and orations of Cicero. that Marcus TuUius Cicero was born. one hundred and six The family was of anyears before the Christian era. Forget the date but for a moment.

as less com- plimentary traditions said. seems not to have been more than a modest grange. who had successfully^ resisted the attempt to introduce vote by ballot into his native town. who had either been success- fid in the cultivation of vetches {cicer). The father was a man of quiet habits. taking no part even in house. which. . * The Equitcs were cavalry f originally those who came served in the Koman but latterly all citizens to be reckoned in the class who had a certain property qualification. and who could prove free descent up to their grandfather. given to books. and hated the Greeks (who were just then coming into fashion) as heartily as his English representative." he protested. man out. as li Fiume della Posta.' the same tliree names the last an inheritance from ' — some forgotten ancestor." " The more Greek a " the gretiter rascal he turned knew. it did not rank His grandfather and his fatlier had borne as noble. he never lost in the . but as members had hitherto borne any office of state. local politics. The ruin known as Cicero's Tower has probably no connection with + Now known Cicero's villa are ' ' him. The situation (on a small island formed by the little river Fibrenust) was beautiful and romantic and the love for it. . had a wart of that shape upon the his nose. might have hated a Frenchman. little The grandfather was still living when Cicero was born a stout old conservative. Fragments of thought to have been discovered built into the walls of the deserted convent of San Dominico. or. and to the enlargement and improvement of the old family up to his time. none of its 3 ciont 'equestrian'* dignity. which grew up with the young Cicero as a child.BJii FATHER Ayn QRANDFATUER. fifty years ago.

4

EARLY LIFE A^D EDUCATION.
It

busy days of his manhood.
said,

was

in his eyes,

he

what Ithaca was

to Ulysses,

"

A

rough, wild nurse-land, but whose crops are men."
for at

There was an aptness in the quotation
a few years before,

;

Arpinum,

was born that Caius

IMarius, seven

times consul of Rome,

who had

at least the virtue of

manhood in him, if he had few besides. But the quiet country gentleman was ambitious
his son.

for

Cicero's father, like Horace's, determined to

give

him the

best education

in his

course the best education was to

power; and of be found in Rome,

and the best teachers there were Greeks. So to Rome young Marcus was taken in due time, with his younger
brother Quintus.
TJiey lodged with their uncle-inlaw, Aculeo, a lawyer of

some

distinction,

who had
city,

a

house in rather a fashionable quarter of the

and

moved

in

good society

;

Greek lectures

Avith their

and the two boys attended the town cousins. Greek was as
gentleman's education in

necessary a part of a

Roman

those days as Latin and French are with us
Latin,
it

was the key

to literature (for the

now like Romans
;

had

as

yet, it

must be remembered, nothing worth
own); and,
like French, it

calling literature of their

was the language of refinement and the play of polished society. Let us hope that by this time the good old grandfather was gathered peacefully into his urn it
;

might have broken his heart
tically his

to

have seen how enthusiasletters of his riper

grandson Marcus threw^ himself into this new;

fangled study

and one of those

years, stuffed full of

Greek terms and phrases even to

'

TRAINING FOR THE BAR.
affectation,

5

would have drawn anything but blessings from the old gentleman if he had lived to hear them
read.

Young
-

Cicero went through the regular curriculum
rhetoric,

—grammar,

and the Greek poets and

his-

torians.

Like many other youthful geniuses, he wrote

a good deal of poetry of his own,

which
at

his friends, as

was natural, thought very highly of
of
to

the time, and

which he himself retained the same good opinion the end of his life, as would have been natural to
'

But his more important few men except Cicero. studies began after he had assumed the white gown which marked the emergence of the young Eoman
from boyhood into more responsible life at sixteen years of age. He then entered on a special education for
the bar.
It could scarcely
at

be called a profession, for
gratuitous
;

an advocate's practice

Rome was

but

it

was the best training for public life ; it was the ready means, to an able and eloquent man, of gaining that
popular influence which would secure his election in

due course

to the great magistracies
political

which formed the

successive steps to

power.

The mode

of

studying law at

Eome

bore a very considerable resem-

blance to the preparation for the English bar.

Our

modern law-student purchases his admission to the chambers of some special pleader or conveyancer, where he is supposed to learn his future business by copying precedents and answering cases, and he ako So attends the public lectures at the Inns of Court. at Rome the young aspirant was to be found (but at a much earlier liour than would suit the Temple or

'

6

EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATIOX.
some great
tlie
;

Lincoln's Inn) in the open hall of

jurist's

house, listening to his opinions given to
clients

throng of
while his

who crowded

there every morning

more zealous pupils would accompany him
in the

in his stroll

Forum, and attend his pleadings

in the courts

or his speeches

on the Rostra, either taking down upon

their tablets, or storing in their memories, his dicta

upon

legal questions.'^

In such wise Cicero became the

pupil of Mucins Scsevola, whose house was called " the
oracle of

Eome "

scarcely ever leaving his side, as he
it
;

himself expresses

and

after

that great lawyer's

death, attaching himself in

much

the same

way

to a
less

younger cousin* of the same name and scarcely
reputation.
for his

Besides

this, to

arm himself

at all points

proposed career, he read logic with Diodotusthe

Stoic, studied the action of

^sop and

Eoscius

the stars of the

Roman

stage

—declaimed

—then

aloud like

Demosthenes

in private,

made copious

notes, practised

translation in order to form a written style,

and read

hard day and night.
lectual atlilete
;

He
if

trained severely as an intel-

and

none of his contemporaries

attained such splendid success, perhaps none

worked

so

hard for
tages
at

it.

He made

use, too, of certain special

advan-

which were open to him little appreciated, or least seldom acknowledged, by the men of his day the society and conversation of elegant and accomIn Sca^vola's domestic
circle,

plished w^omen.

where

the mother, the daughters, and the grand -daughters
* These dicta, or 'opinions,' of the great jurists, acquired a
sort of legal validity in

the

Roman

law-courts, like

'

cases

with us.
-^
oj[.

/0«c (^^^'^'^^

<^-^

CAMPAIGN UNDER POMPEY.
new
graces from

7

successively seem to have been such charming talkers

that language found

tlieir lips,

the

young advocate learnt some "It makes no little difference," said he in lessons. his riper years, " what style of expression one becomes It was familiar with in the associations of daily life."
another point of resemblance between the age of Cicero and the times in which we live the influence of the

of his not least valuable

" queens of society," whether for good or

evil.

But no man could be completely educated for a public career at Rome until he had been a soldier. By
what must seem
system
to us a mistake in the Republican

—a

mistake which

we have

seen

made more

than once in the late American war high political offices were necessarily combined with uiiHtary com-

mand. The highest minister of
however hopelessly

state,

consul or prsetor,

civilian in tastes

and antecedents,

might be sent to conduct a campaign in Italy or abroad at a few hours' notice. If a man was a heavenif not, he had usually a born general, all went well
;

chance of learning in the school of defeat.
desirable, at all events, that

It

was
first

he should have seen what
Cicero served his

war was

in his youth.

Young

campaign, at the age of eighteen, under the father of a man whom he was to know only too well in after
life

—Pompey the
He

Great

—and

in the division of the
as lieutenant-

army which was commanded by Sylla
general.

bore arms only for a year or two, and probably saw no very arduous service, or we should certainly have heard of it from himself; and he never

was

in

camp again

until

he took the chief command,

as pro-consul in Cilicia. briefs came in Like upon the young pleader almost too quickly. undertook his first defence of a prisoner on a capital charge. What kind of considerations. and the innocence of the accused insufficient protection before a was a very Roman jury of those days. — necessary conditions of success in the large arena in which a Roman advocate had hard work. conspiracy. Eome. he had inherited from his father somewhat delicate constitution his lungs were not powerful. and chanssje to Athens. leading a quiet student-life— happily himself. . In consequence of this decided success. besides the merits of the case and the rhetoric of counsel. rest to plead— he found very and retired for He left Rome for a while.. many a other successful orators. and secured by his eloquence the acquittal of Sextus Eoscius on an accusation of having murdered The charge appears to have been a mere his father. we shall see hereafter. did usually sway these tribunals. whose power was . He was for active part —during the bloody feuds between Sylla and the younger Marius. 8 EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. wholly unsupported accuser was a favourite all by evidence but the with Sylla. in some suit Two years afterwards he of which we know nothing. he had to combat some natural deficiencies . and his voice required careful management and the loud declamation and vehement action which and Avhich were he had adopted from his models . He seems to have made his first appearance as an advocate when he was about twenty-five. but absolute. too young to be forced or tempted into an at thirty-seven years afterwards.

that we are indebted for a more thorough insight into the character of Cicero than we have as to any other of the great minds of antiquity in all the familiar confidence of private friendsliip . and in that city he also renewed acquaintance with an old schoolfellow. must have been very pleasant ones. philosophy. It was the home were are mysteries of all that was literature to him . Poetry. that in the Invisible brother Quintus and one of his cousins were with at him his Athens . with occasional intervals. and to the cor- respondence which was maintained between the two friends. wliich was given him half It in jest. by the surname of Atticus. tions It combined all those associations and attracto to which we might now expect to find in a visit the capitals of Greece and of Italy. as he was to his contemporaries. Titus Pomponius. To one like Cicero. tliough busy and studious. The six 9 months which he spent there.STUDIES AT ATHENS. Athens was at once classic and holy ground. tastes and became habits. written by . that so thoroughly Athenian in his is and he better known to us. His Cicero took this opportunity of initiation. and a pilgrimage Jerusalem. had their cradle there. nearly four hundred of his letters to Atticus. than by his more sonorous Roman name. —which but which contained under their veil wliatever faitli and Eternal rested in the mind of an There can be little doubt but enlightened pagan. religion — all. for something like four-and-twenty years. rhetoric. is to the accidental circumstance of Atticus remaining so long a voluntary exile from Rome. and there. to his eyes. too. who lived so long in the city. the great Eleusinian mysteries still.

in his case. reticent as to to us. stands out in no unfavourable contrast with the conduct of many of her sol-dtsaiit patriots. gave shelter on his estates to the victims of the triumvirate's proscription. or the readiest . His vocation was certainly not patriotism but the worldly wisdom which kept well with men of all political colours. with eh^gant tastes and easy morality be — Atticus — a true Epicurean. friend's uidiappy death. to reclaim and destroy them. . If he declined to take a side himself. one sense he was a truer philosopher than Cicero In : for he seems to have acted tlirough on that maxim of Socrates which his friend professed to approve. as he boasted himself to open hand. not very much that we care to know beyond what we know already. and eschewed the wretched intrigues and bloody feuds of Rome. liis man by no means . luxurious. personal feel- ings. life — of public business. lost having been preserved it is Atticus's replies are after his said that he was prudent enough. citizen as the noisiest clamourer for "liberty" in the Forum. somewhat unfairly at least his selfishness never took the form of indifterence or unkindness to others. in their adversity . protected the widow of Antony. They would perhaps have told us. men of all parties resorted to him and the man who befriended the younger Marius in his exile.— 10 a ^^-^A'^idr^^r^FE AND EDUCATION. and was always ready to offer his friend Cicero whenever the political this man was surely as good a both his liouse and his purse horizon clouded round him. had nevertheless a kind heart and an He has generally been called selfish." . but that "a wise man kept out certainly never followed. Eich.

utterly without foundation . and Cicero's owti share in the transaction is not improved by the fact of his taking another wife as soon as possible — a ward of his . visiting the chief cities of Asia Minor. and repeated by others. Her letters have not reached us but in all her hus. He extended his two years. after a married life of thirty years. during which we find no trace of any serious The imputations on her honour made by Plutarch. all He kept his life and liis pro- perty safe through those years of peril and proscripof principle than with less sacrifice many who had made louder professions. deal We must return to Cicero. remaining for a short time at Rhodes to take lessons once more from his old tutor rhetorician. to and improve his own style of composition and delivery. She appears to have written him very kindly during his long forced absences. to — by a singular work with an -nr make short . incurable disease ean. Avitli ' I -"^^^ ^ 1 the dagger. but not the worst of them. Soon after his return to Eome." yet he procured. — at a ripe old age a godless Epicur- no doubt. he married. band's rejDlies she is mentioned in terms of apparently the most sincere affection. lectures correct Molo the and everywhere availing himself of the of the most renowned Greek professors. and died act of voluntary starvation. and with the next few years of his foreign tour for somewhat briefly life. Of the to character of his wife Terentia very different views have been taken.1 TK R E y TIAr^^ hand tion. seem domestic unhappiness. He calls her repfeatedly his best of " darling"— " the delight of his eyes"— "the mothers . for no distinctly assigned reason. a divorce from her.

divorced his wife the favourite impersonation of all the moral to oblige a friend — ! . But the very low notion of the marriage relations entertained by both the light later Greeks and Eomans helps to throw some Terentia. and lady been a rich widow. to be " a faithful hotise-guardian" and " a fruitful mother. who is virtues of his age. an almost also to with whom he did not live a year Terentia is before a second divorce released him. girl. according to Dio Cassius. and since Pomponia. and. showed her temper very disagreeably to lier husband.12 EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. Divorces were easy enough at Rome. sister of Atticus and wife of Quintus Cicero. as upon a proceeding which would otherwise seem is very mysterious. pretty plain from the hints in her husband's letters. first though she was divorce. said have had an imperious temper. she lived to be 104. there is room for suspicion that she was not even an honest one in his absence.* * fifty Cato. by her own brother's account. was not a good manager in money matters . according an authority who ranked very high to Demosthenes in Cicero's eyes — —were essential in a wife. there might years old at the date of this had the be nothing so improbable in this latter part of the story. but the only iiroimd for this assertion seems to have been that she quarrelled occasionally with her sister-in-law Pomponia. to have three more husbands. the feud between the ladies was more likely to have been her fault than Terentia's. own." She did not die of a broken heart . and was "making a purse" for herself: she had thus failed in one of the onty two qualifications which.

and the State property geneThey had also the superintendence of the national festirally. 11. who were four in number. and successful this and the social influence which brought with it. The ^dileship and lield. as could legally be interruj)- His practice as an advocate suffered no Quaestors (of whom tliere were at this time twenty) under the Senate as State treasurers. highest public Soon first after his marriage he was elected Quaestor —the step on the official ladder which. had the care of all The public buildings.* * Praetorship followed subsequently. gave him a seat in the Senate for life. as he already posstissed the necessary property qualification. secured the rapid succession of Cicero to the offices. IMPEACHMENT OF VERREH. called the cipally judicial. vals and public games. coiTcsponded roughly to our Home and * ' Foreign Secretaries. all gradual steps to the office of . roads. These were Consul. in point of age. The ^diles. brilliant Increasing reputation as a pleader.— CHAPTER PUBLIC CAREER. The duties of the Prsetors. The Consul or other acted officer who commanded in chief during a camjmign would be accompanied by one of them as paymaster-general. of whom there were eight. markets. 'Foreign' respectively. it each as early. were prinCity and The two seniors.

Bithynia. in their relation to the mother-state of Italy. The a Praetor who was appointed to liirn the government of that province* had nnder quaestors. and Sicily was The granary of the empire. Sicily. kind of comptrollers of the 1 exchequer and Cicero was appointed to the western In district.. divided into Macedonia and Aehaia (the Morea) sions) . Tliere was a Rome that year. having his headquarters at Lilybseum. He was liberal to the tenants of the State. sions. Cyprus. all. as delighted for Rome was not in the habit of sendall. " These held office for one or two years. Sardinia with Corsica. Others were added afterwards. except that his Qusestorship involved his spending a year in Sicily. PUBLIC CAREER. the administration of his a thorough office there he showed himself dearth of the great corn at man of business. or such of our own government of crown colonies as have no representative their governor or lieutenant-governor. courteous and accessible to upright in his administration. They invented honours for him 3uch as had never been bestowed on any minister before." one who had been Praetor with the rank of " pro-praitor. ^ two who were . . above he kept his hands clean from bribes and The provincials were as much astonished peculation. the energetic measures which new Quaestor took fully met the emergency. — I Asia. under the Empire. and had the power of life They had and death within their respective jurisdictions. and. Syria. Cilicia. and Africa in four divi- . * The provinces of Rome. them one or more officers who bore the title of Quaestor. i been Consul went out with the rank of "pro-consul. may be best compared with our India. under who collecited the taxes and had the general management of The provinces at this time were rthe revenues of the province. assembly. They had each who must have been an ex-minister of Rome : a man who had . S[)ain and Gaul (each in two diviGreece. 14 tion. : ing them such officers.

15 No wonder said. in one of his speeches —introducing with a quiet humour. But when I was leaving my province. I believe 1 No. I very nearly collapsed. gentlemen. "The people of Sicily had devised for me unprecedented honours. I come there good than for the waters.' said he ' . whether that scene did not do if me more everybody then and there had publicly . and with a practised orator's one of those personal anecdotes which relieve a long speech —" I thought in my heart.— ' QUjESTORSHIP in SICILY. said to him don't you know that he was Qusestor at Syrawas at cuse? [It Lilybajum — quite But a different district:] . considerably annoyed and dis. thinking that the Roman people would at once offer me everything without my seeking. am not sure. No need to make a long story of it I. with the air of a ' What ' ! man who knew all about it. the young oJORcial's head (he was not much " I thought." And he goes on to tell his audience how he was undeceived. to be sure. and made as though like the rest. that the people at Eome must be talking of nothing but my quaestorship. and on my road home." he afterwards all over thirty) was somewhat turned. Africa. So I left the island in a state of great elation. gusted 'from Sicily.' Then somebody else. when a man asked me what day Rome. gentlemen.' said I to him. I swallowed my had indignation. I happened to land at Puteoli just at the time when a good many of our most fashionable peojDle are accustomed I had left to resort to that neighbourhood. and whether there was any news stirring? When I made answer that I Avas returning from my province — ' ' Oh ! yes. at the time. skill.

had during his three years' rule heaped on the unhappy province every evil which tyranny and rapacity could inflict. think- that the audience rose and cheered at him ? It was while he held the office of yEdile that he made his first appearance as public prosecutor. not my gate refused — ancient^ Have we not here the original of that Cambridge senior wrangler. to justice the and brought Verres. late most important criminal of the day. bowed ino- all round with a gratified embarrassment. had thus found out that deaf ears. to imply any comparison of moral character. interest grand scale of his off'ences. was charged with high The crimes and misdemeanours in his government." never Did we not say that Cicero was modern. He had found it prosperous and contented he left : it exhausted and smarting under its wrongs. but very the people of Rome have somewhat me . Prcetor in Sicily. though with much injustice to the latter.16 IMPEACHMENT OF VERRES. . I stuck close to the Forum . the porter at no man admittance my very sleep was * allowed to be a plea against an audience. For after I congratulated me. 27. who. so far as it may seem of the trial. and the absorbing have led to his case being quoted as an obvious parallel to that of Warren Hastings. He met his impeachment now * Avith considerable c. confidence. the corrupt son of a corrupt father. Defence of Plancius. happening to enter a London theatre at the same moment with the king. I left olf cogitating I what people I lived in Avould hear about took care that thenceforth me before them every day : their sight. keen and sharp they should see eyes. This Yerres. 26.

called basilicce —had —magnificent been erected by this time on the north and south trials sides. a large scale — — temporary tribunal for the presiding officer.^. One end of the wide area raised on a somewhat higher level a kind of dais and was separated from the rest by the Rostra. ix. year of the office were for liimself second had been for his friends. on any occasion of great some large . vol. Temples of the gods and other public buildings overlooked the area. It was here that the trials were held. the third produced more than enough to bribe a jury. city mar- was for also the place where the populapolitical tion or his other — where friends assembled any public the idle citizen strolled to meet and . hills.THE ROMAN LAW-COURTS. witnesses. 0. was erected in the open air and the scene may perhaps best be pictured in by imagining the principal square town fitted up with oj^en hustings on a large scale for an old-fashioned county election. a sort of stage from which the orators A spoke. Courts for the administration of justice halls. and in these the ordinary trials took place itself . . The gains he said. of his first . B . with ac- commodation for counsel. The trials at Eome took place in the five acres. Forum —the open space. and hear the gossip of the day. but it lying between the It was the meeting. where the man of business made his appointments. but for state the open Forum was was on the court. by no means omitting the intense popular excitement and mob violence appropriate to such occasions. and jury. 17 sufficient. and the steps of these. of nearly Capitoline and Palatine ket-place.

in the Scotch courts) carried the verdict. and the appeals of the advocates were rather to the passions and feelings of the jurors than to the legal points of profession. occupying the curule chair. and by a jury composed at this lot time entirely from the senatorial order." he says in one of his speeches. " I could make myself lawyer enough in three days.' ' not guilty. — "Busy as little the case. which was one of the well-known privileges of high office at Eome. as a state criminal. The was of a higlily flexible character. the word. whose hands the administration of justice Avas supposed to he. be crowded by those who were they could not hear. * — ' guilty. chosen by (with a limited right of cliallenge reserved to both parties) from a panel made out every year by the praetor. They were. too. who was a kind of minister of justice. the recog- both of law and nised assessors fact. Judge. excitement.' or (as not proven." The jurors gave each their vote by ballot.18 IMPEACHMENT OF VERRES.' — and the majority But such trials as that of Verres were much more like an impeachment before the House of Commons than a calm judicial inquiry. The men who would have to try a defendant of his class would be. would be tried before a special commission. usually presided on such occasions. Cicero himself attached comparatively weight to this branch of his I am. in our sense of the jury were the judges in short. in very . if Verres. would anxious to see at least. But his office was rather that of the modern chairman who keeps order at a public meeting than that of a judge. in of the praetor. law. This magistrate. there was none .

There were many reasons which would . to which he had " Men are influenced in their verdicts much more by prejudice or favour. had their share of influence also at Rome. and there was a growing impatience of the insolence and rapacity of the old governing houses. as public prosecu- On the other hand. and laid them more open to the appeal of the advocates to their political passions. or indignation. or by any rules or principles Avhatever either of law or equity. or hope or fear. explains clearly of party . or anger. Peculation on the part of governors of provinces had become almost a recognised principle many of those who held offices of state either had done. or pleasure. or by the facts of the by established precedents. would come into court prejudiced tlie interests in Most of them some degree by hot partisans. Their large number (varying from to seventy) weakened the sense of individual responsibility.: A few cases. ROMAN JURY. 19 honest and impartial weighers of the evififty dence. or by misapprehension. in his treatise for the pleader's Oratory.' guidance the nature of the tribunals to appeal. or by some excite- ment of their feelings. many would be on ' Cicero." Verres was supported by some of the most powerful families at Eome. or to turn it into a sham by procuring the appointment and creature of his own private friend tor. or greed of gain. of whose worst qualities the ex-governor of SicHy was a fair type. whom hf had wronged and outraged. much the same as the present defendant. and every effort had been made by of a his friends either to put off the trial indefinitely. the Sicilian families. or were waiting their turn to do. than either case.

of which Koman franchise. and his old popularity there late did him good service in the work. was even a more atrocious feature in Cicero did not fail to make good use in his appeal to Many of the unhappy victims had a Roman jury. but " to scourge a man tlie that was a Roman and uncondemned. indeed. his passions The reckless gratification of his avarice satisfied and had seldom him. and. There was. tremble before a wan- dering teacher tian. up his case thoroughly. the province . The torture of an unfortunate might be turned into a jest by a clever advocate for the defence. the But there the case. without the addi- tion of some hitter insult to the sufferers. was a thought which. He spared no pains to He went all over the island collecting evidence. a century later. evidence enough against the governor. .20 IMPEACHMENT OF VERRES." officers of even in far-off province of Judea. above the prosecution of a state lift offender of such importance was a at once into the foremost ranks of political get life. and regarded by a philosophic jury with less tlian the cold compassion with which we Sicilian ren-ard the suffering's of the lower animals . It lead Cicero to take up such a cause energetically. who bore the despised tell name of Chris- No one can possibly the tale so well as Cicero himself. was a great openiug profession : his what we may call his former connection with the government for him in of Sicily gave him a personal interest in the cause of all. made the the great Empire. at its pitch of powder. and the passage from his speech for the prosecution is an admirable specimen both of his power of pathetic narrative and scatliiiig denunciation.

for I have none but of any man's. with Avhat sufficient indignation of soul. that I will not say of mine. said to have been constructed by the tyrant Dionysius. and had been converted to their present purpose. and only left for me to take. Avill not fail me tl)e : the more must I strive that in this other requisites my pleading may be made it to meet the gravity feeling. Cicero. now speak on a charge of this importI think there is one way ] one course. a citizen of voice. I did not think proceed? credible. suited to that man's crimes — when I have taken no precaution to secure your attention by any variety in my charges against him.CASE OF GA " VI US. had been . — when already been speaking for so ject — his atrocious cruelty many when hours on one subI have exhausted upon other points well-nigh such as alone is all the powers of language . of whom I speak. in what — fashion can I ance one. — How would be I have shall I now . is needed to excite your feelings. — among made tlie crowds of Eoman citizens thrown into prison under that man. at least. the intensity of accusation is my it For the such that.* who had been Somehow he had and had got to * This was one of the state prisons at S}Tacuse. can T tell the tale Indignation. first of the subject. " This Gavius of Consa. his escape out of the Quarries. Consa ? With what powers of 1 with what force of language. They were the quarries from whicli the stone was dug for building the city. I will place the facts before — you no eloquence — and they have in themselves such weight. laid before me. . when was . I did not think to make use of it though I knew it to be perfectly true. so called. 21 How shall I speak of Publiiis Gavins.

describes depth in the solid rock. His eyes it as sunk There was no roof. at So Gavius . Eoman citizen. on that very day Yerres himself came to Messana. . that the governor himself might decide about him as should seem to him good. Messana and when he saw Italy and the towers of Rhegiimi now so close to him. is brought it once before the city magistrates and. as at Messana. were confined. ." In these places the suiTivors of the unfortunate Atlienian expedition against Syracuse wlio no doubt had seen the one in question. they had detained him. "The wretched man little knew that he might as well liave talked in this fasliion in the governor's palace before his very face.— 22 IMPEACIIMEyi OF VERRES. that he was going straight had been put in irons to Rome that he would be — ready there for Verres on his arrival. and kept him in custody. . the con- fidant of all his wickedness. comes down to the court. He himself. and to complain that he. and to an immense the unhappy prisoners were exposed there "to tlie sun by day. he began to talk at Messana. and extols their goodwill and zeal for his interests. and to the rain and frosts by nif. that there is a Roman citizen who complained of having been put into the Quarries at Syracuse that as he was just going on board ship. and out of tlie horror felt and shadow of death life as himself breathe with a air of liberty new and he scented once more the fresh a the laws. as I told you before. as so chanced. this city he had selected for himself as the accomplice in his crimes.dit. the receiver of his stolen goods. burning with rage and malice. Verres thanks the gentlemen. and died in great numbers. For. certain The case is reported to him . and was uttering threats too atrocious — — really against Verres.

the lashes. and as the punishment went man. cruelty suddenly he ordered the prisoner to be dragged forth.' 1 AM A ROMAN CITIZES: 23 was written on every line of liia face. gentlemen. or what steps he would take . no word. a cross — yes. whom Verres might ascertain the truth of his statement. has been sent into Sicily as a . —could escai)e But not only did and his appeal to he fail in thus deprecating the insult of the lash. and the rods to be got ready at once. any man's mind. — was heard amid the sound of ' I am a Roman citizen !' By such protest of citizenship he thought he could at least save himself from anything like blows the indignity of personal torture. Then that man replies that he has discovered that he. in all on. Gavins. a distinguished from Roman knight. I say. who had never yet beheld such an abuse power. now engaged in business at Panormus. of a governoi''8 . all Then he ordered over his body. a cross — 'was ordered for that most unfortunate and ill-fated man. no groan of the wretched his anguish. cried out that he The unhappy man citizen was a Eoman the municipal franchise of Consa —that he had served — that he had in a campaign with Lucius Pretius. spy by the ringleaders of the runaway slaves or even suspicion in of which charge there was neither witness nor trace of any kind. but this cry. man to be scourged severely Yes a Roman citizen was cut to the — pieces with rods in the open forum at Messana. when flashed fire . All present watched anxiously to see to what lengths he meant to go. but his entreaties when he redoubled the name of Rome. and to be stripped and bound in the open forum.

" He then proceeds to prove by witnesses the facts of " However.24 " IMPEACHMENT OF VERRES. were honestly entertained. gentlemen. that your suspicions on this point. in case so selves my former pleading. how the public feeling was already embittered against the defendant by indignation. addressing himself now " we will grant." he goes on to say. you ask sus- pected him of being not the grounds of your suspicion. you *' please. were you not moved by the tears and groans which burst from the Roman citizens who were present at the Did you dare to drag to the cross any man scene 1 who claimed to be a citizen of Rome 1 . privilege of the tribune. if if false. and and dread of a common peril. Rome ! Has it allcome to that a Eoman citizen in a province town is to be bound and beaten with rods in the forum by a man who only holds those rods and axes those awful emblems by What shall I grace of that same people of Rome*? fire. sweet to our ears ! ! rights of citizenship. the case and the falsehood of the charge against Gavins of having been a spy. and say of the fact that of the Roman people — in a federal — — — other tortures were applied? Even if his agonised en- treaties and pitiable cries did not check you. I impeach you on your Avas own evidence. . long and sorely and at last restored to the people of this. He said he Roman citizen. the I man was do a . to Verres. name ! of liberty. to press this for strongly — I did not indeed you saw yourhate. and red-hot plates. —I did not in- tend. in which we glory laws of Porcius and Sempronius regretted." You did not know who a spy.

where they are neither per" Men sonally find known to to those whom they visit. whom you were dragging to the and you did not know Avho he was he was a citizen of Kome. a that you were a Eonian citizen 1 stranger there among strangers. not only no reprieve. and who are united with language. known and renowned in every nation under heaven. — guard for our Eoman ' citizens — once establish the prin' ciple that there is citizen of no protection in the words. in the hands of barbarians. I Eome — that prsetor or other magistrate am a may . yourself. a Eoman magistrate. would have found protection in the name of your city. 25 Had you to dies. Yerres. they think. amongst men who dwell in the farthest and remotest regions of the earth.— *1 AM in A ROMAN CITIZEN: . Persia. but not eveu a brief respite from death 1 of neither rank nor wealth. of . by the mere mention and claim of be he — who he might when he declared citizenship. this. sail the seas they touch at some spot they never saw before. will be their safeTake away this confidence. could he obtain from you. who are held in check by the terror of the laws and of public opinion citizenship of —not only among those who share that Eome. been seized and led out or execution. humble birth and station. them by community of and of many things besides but go where they may. not only with our own governors. nor can always any vouch for their nationality. destroy this safeguard. of laws. say. could the victim cross. in the farthest In- what other cry or protest could you raise but And if you. But in this siugle fact of their citizenship they feel they shall be safe.

you are shutting up against Eoman citizens all our provinces. would erected the cross behind their city on the Pompeian road. which has ever beyond all. all foreign states.26 IMPEACHMENT OF Roman know it for a VERRES. why talk of on whom you instead Gavins ? as though w^ar it were the were wreaking a private ven- of rather of waging against very name and rights Eoman I citizenship. he might be all —that able." lain open to our national enterprise He turns again to Yerres. since Messana was a that was ever erected on that spot. with impunity sentence to what punishment he will a man who says he is citizen. to see in the dis- tance his country and his that cross home ! And so. and added this — which you cannot deny. A point which commanded his last a view of Italy was chosen by the defend- ant for the express reason that the dying sufferer. from his cross of punishment. You showed yourself an enemy. " But Gavins geance. For when the authorities of Meshave according to their usual custom. not to the indivi- what meant sana. city. which you said opeidy in the liearing of you chose that spot for tliis reason. by admitting such a defence. dual man. in agony and toi'ment. in short. and at once. merely because somebody does not our a fact . was the only one. might see how^ the rights of sepai'ated the slave and the freeman were by that . common cause of liberty. despotic or independent — all the whole world. gentlemen. but to the say. that as he had called himself a Eonian citizen. you ordered it to be set up on the si(]e that looked toward the Strait? ^"^ay. it that.

a mere individual Eoman it was the common cause of liberty. they must be read in the grand periods of the oration itself. an atrocity to scourge him . and the laws. that Italy might look upon a son of hers suffering the capital penalty reserved for slaves alone. in — every quarter of the world. and the indignant de- mand upon for it vengeance which the great orator founds proclaiming the recognised principle that.' said he. well-nigh parricide — was not content. citizen . ' Let him look. to put him to death what shall I say it is to crucify is Language has no word by which I may desighini] Yet with all this yon man nate such an enormity. to which no translation into a language so different in idiom as and rhythm justice. " It it is is a crime to put a citizen of . which you there outraged and put to a shameful death. But — perhaps the most magnificent piece of declamation in any language —though written and preserved to us. was not Gavins it was not a single unknown to fame.RESULT OF THE TRIAL. his country ." But in order to judge of the thrilling effect of such passages upon a Eoman jury. English is from Latin can possibly do The fruitless appeal made by the unhapj^y citizen to the outraged majesty of Eome. ' towards let him die in full sight of freedom . the comIt mon rights of citizenship. the humblest wanderer could say he was a tion in the who Eoman will be citizen should find protec- name — always remembered as havthis great speech of Cicero's ing supplied Lord Palmerston with one of his most telUng illustrations. . 27 narrow streak of sea. Eome in bonds .' victim.

case. from such data only would be doing We have onl}'. in substance. Of his guilt there can be his fear to face a court in is no question . its dye from the even in ^o sensible person will form an opinion upon the real merits of a case. but only (as fate fall it is and assassination said) to share his soon afterwards as one of the victims of Antony's proscription. exclamation of Warren Hastings himself. of the pleadings in the for to which extend some length.28 IMPEACHMENT OF VERRES. were composed the occasion." said Hastings. . He undisturbed in the enjoyment of his plunder. and we have in thank Cicero for publisliiug them afterwards full. long enough to see the of his great accuser. But Yerres only waited of his prosecutor verdict. which he had many friends it . trials we know that to form our estimate of a prisoner's guilt him a gross injustice.to remember the trial. And if we of were to go back a century or two. with- drew lived to Marseilles soon after the trial opened. The whole to was never spoken. torrent of eloquence many points of resemblance when Burke sat down after the . which he had hurled against the accused in his opening speech for the prosecution — "I "the thought myself guiltiest for the moment. to the state those days. has so with that of Verres. sufficient presumptive evidence of but we must hesitate in assuming the deepness of terrible invectives of Cicero. no doubt. entirely from the speech of the counsel for the prosecution. an English court of justice now. man in England. there." . to hear the brief opening speech he did not dare to challenge a but allowing judgment to go by default. whose as has been said.

one respect .JIORTENSIUS. on doubt. a musical voice. the counsel whom Cicero himself calls " the king of He was eight years the senior of Cicero many more professionally. ostensibly at least. The used result of this trial 29 was to raise Cicero at once to the leadership — — if so modern an expression may be of the Roman bar. for the courts. personal friends. After Yerres's trial. there seems no reason who to not be convinced of the friendly feeling which.' which has been lost." in age. strange to say. Up to this time the position for Yerres. Cicero did full justice to his merits his and his eloquence. He had : the ad- vantage of the most extraordinary memory. however. while Cicero's vanity was quite of another kind. had been held by Hortensius. and he is said to have made his first public speech at nineteen. What could jealousy there was between them. Hortensius's part. Hortensius was a fop and an exquisite (he is said to have brought an action against a colleague for disarranging the folds of his gown). After his rival's death. . ' memory a treatise on and even inscribed to Glory. and a rich flow of language but Cicero more It than implies that he was not above bribing a jury. seems always to have been on the side of Cicero. the two advocates were frequently engaged together in the same cause and on the same side : but Hortensius seems quietly to have abdicated his forensic sovereignty before the rising fame of his younger rival. They became. was not more disgraceful in those days than bribing a The two men were very unlike in voter in our own.

honestly earned and well deserved . against the existence of an overruling Pro- In the prime of his manhood he reached the he became virtuf^reat object of a Eoman's ambition for he was elected. vote. the notorious (who had beaten the . he might have felt a uncomfort- able under the compliment. and it was soon to culminate in that great civil triumph which earned for him had the proud title of Pater Patrice —the Father of his Country. Caius Anlonius third candidate. in the mouth of one of his imaginary disputants. — : by acclamation rather than by consuls for the year. It . when he remembered on whom he had originally bestowed it upon that Caius — Marius. was a phrase which it is the orator himself invented and possible that. being seven times consul. ally Prime Minister of the rei)ul)lic vidence.CHAPTER III. 1'here was no check as yet in Cicero's career. the first of the two and his colleague. It had been a steady course of fame and success. with all his natural little self-complacency. whose death in his bed after at a good old age. he afterwards uses as an argument. THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE.

to manage. both for Cicero and for Eome. of. was a member of a noble but imwho had borne arms under Sylla. and Cicero has described his are not unfair. impossible here to do much more than at the well-known story of Catiline's conspiracy. character in terms which probably cause the portrait was his drawn by him. — would terrible last but that year was to be a most eventful one. be- had served an early apprenticeship in bloodshed under that unscrupulous leader. It is and whom knew how true that this high dignity — so jealous were the old re- publican principles of individual power only for a year . Catiline. 31 wlio valued by a few votes only) was Cicero a man his office chiefly for its opportunities of peculation. " the He had visible about him very tokens. There were men amongst the younger nobles quite ready to risk their and the mob lives in the struggle for absolute power . for the distinct purpose of showing the popular attracted so had dazzled and I can hardly say of many of the youth of Rome.CICERO'S CONSULSHIP. only to leave behind a taste for blood and licence amongst the corrupt aristocracy and turbulent commons. Eome by a bloody Catiline poverished family. but many the adumbrations the highest qualities. was ready It is to follow whatever leader was bold enough glance It to bid highest for their support. There was in his character that . The days of Marius and Sylla had passed. was the attempt of an able and desperate man to make himself and his partisans masters of revolution. in the course of young friend who had been too much defence of a qualities wliich connected with Catiline.

He lived soberly with the serious. l)ut to energy whicli tempted also that which spurred him and hard work. and rule himself by circumstances. he not only collected round him wicked . It would have been impossible for him to have organised that atrocious attack upon the Commonwealth. but there was also a strong love of active military service.32 THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. — on earth such a monster of such a compound of opposite tastes and passions brought into conflict with each other. reckless among the desperate. if there was need of it. at Who illustrious one time was a greater favourite with our most men 1 Who was a closer intimate with our very basest ? than he was 1 Who could be more greedy of money Who could lavish it more profusely them by 1 There were these marvellous qualities in the man. and turn and bend in any direction. — he his made friends so universally. him to indulge the worst passions. he retained obliging ways. to help them at their need with his money. and desperate characters from all quarters of the world. merry with . lieve that there never lived inconsistency." . he was ready to share what he had with them all. With a nature so complex and many-sided. his personal exertions — not stopping short of the most audacious crime. his influence. He could change his very nature. unless that fierce outgrowth of depraved passions had rested on some under-stratum of agreeable qualities and powers of endurance. I be- Licentious appetites burnt fiercely within him. he was a boon companion with the gay grave with the elders. profligate the young with the depraved. but he also attracted many brave and good men by his simulation of virtue.

which always took place some time before their entrance on office. and able rival for the consulship. who had armed themselves for the consul's protection. ambitious. and seize the It had failed through his own impatience. The first plan had been to government. and failed — A so watchful and well informed was the intended victim. second time he tried assassination. c. Catiline seems to as his revolutionary plot ripened. A. and of needy and unscrupulous adventurers of all classes. Cicero appeared in the meeting. But the plot was discovered. choosing the He now opportunity of the election of the Incoming consuls. his unsuccessful and hating him with the implacable hatred with which a bad. The pro- gramme was assassination. to show that he knew found the place of his danger . wearing somewhat ostentatiously a corslet of bright steel. that befates of tween the new consul and himself the Rome must choose. profligate He had gathered round him a band of young nobles. confisca: tion of property so little of novelty is there in re- volutionary principles. When it did take place. vol. and Catiline was again rejected. hired assassins against Cicero. c . deep in debt like himself. and the election was put off.CATILINE. as well as character. man have hates an opponent who is his superior in ability and popularity felt. and Catiline's partisans meeting already occupied by a strong force of the younger citizens of the middle class. murder the consuls of the year before. Born in the 33 same year with Cicero. abolition of debts. He had partisans who were collecting and drilling troops for him in several parts of Italy. The it election passed off quietly. ix.

criminals let loose. collecting their incendiary stores to burn our city. perhaps. and gather themselves together somewhere else let them put a wall between us." to drive his enemy from the felt city to the camp of his partisans. The arch-conspirator had the audacity to be present. overawing our courts of with armed bands. The the friends of order to be put out of the way. Let us have them no longer thus plotting the assassination of a consul in his justice own house. let them separate themselves from honest citizens. the whole plan of the conspirators was Rebel camps had been formed not only in betrayed. Italy. and thus to bring matters at crisis for once to a which he now himself prepared. the slaves to be armed. naming even the very day fixed for the outbreak. This daily state of public insecurity and personal danger had lasted too long. the mixture of personal alarm with patriotic indignation is very perceptible. . Let us at last be able to rearl plainly . : consul called a meeting of the senate in the temple of Jupiter Stator. And now was roused . besieging the senate-house with drawn swords.34 THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. but in Spain and Mauritania Rome was to be set on fire. to a conscious- for in the unusually ness that one or other must fall determined measures which he took in the suppression of the conspiracy. as I have often said. By a for- tunate chance. and denounced the plot in all its details. let these conspirators at once take their side. he said : " Therefore. and Cicero addressed him personally in the eloquent invective which has come to us as His object was his " First Oration against Catiline. a strong position on the Palatine Hill. Cicero.

plunderers of Italy. the Senate may shall . And thou. of spirit amongst the Roman knights. go forth to go. — a man of ancient and noble * 'Stator. from yon man and his accon)plices. the lives and fortunes of These our citizens. I bid you.— the salvation of the state. — ay. great Jupiter. to your own over- throw and destruction. everything will be not only discovered and brought the light of day. but also crushed. call truly the 'Stay' * tliou wilt protect thine own altars and the temples of thy kindred and roof-trees of our gods. He rose. and punished. linked together in a mutual bond of ! crime and an alliance of villany. to the ruin of all who have joined you in your great wickedness and treason. promise you this. living and dead Catiline's courage did not fail him. and in reply to Cicero. wage your impious and unhallowed war. no lack of dignity and firmness on your own. enemies of all good men. in a forced tone of humility protested his innocence. to Under such auspices. Catiline. I trust. of unanimity amongst all honest men. but that into when Catiline has once gone from us. in 35 every Komau's face whether he he loyal to his I country or no. invaders of their country. He tried also an- Was he.' . whose worship Eomulus founded here coeval with our city of our capital —whom we and our empire — . other point. sitting alone He had been — for all the other senators had shrunk away from the bench of which he had taken possession. gentlemen of —there be no lack of diligence on the part of your consuls there will he." SPEECH AGAINST CATILINE. the walls homes. thou wilt surely visit with an everlasting punishment. .

all tlie efibrts it of our imagination to as men realised then. Lentulus and Cethegus. But there was no formal trial and a few hours after a vote of death had been passed upon them in a hesitating Senate. there was no doubt . eloquence. and forced him to join his fellow-traitors. this -parvenu from Arpinum % But the cries of appeal failed ' his voice was drowned in the which arose on all sides. THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. were brouglit from their separate . the imminence of the public danger. it retraitor' mained to deal with those influential conspirators who seized within the city Myalls. Of the guilt of the most of them even admitted . can reconcile the cess adopted b}^ summary pro- the consul with our English notions of calm and deliberate justice. and urged the adoption of strong measures to crush Even now. he rushed At dead of night he left the out of the Senate-house. not all Cicero's it out within the city. city.' as bis fellow-nobles on the word of called Cicero he contemptuously — . exposed further particulars of the conspiracy. nor realise. had been detected and fied the course In three subsequent speeches in the Senate he justihe had taken in allowing Catiline to escape.36 fainil}''. men it. — to be hastily this ' condemned by foreigner. vowing that si]ice he was driven to desperation he would involve all Eome in his ruin. with three of their com- panions in guilt. two niembers of that august body. joined the insurgent camp at FfBsulae. and with threats and curses. and so put himself in the position of levying open war against the state. and When the thunders of Cicero's eloquence had driven Catiline from the Senate-house.

like Julius Caesar and Crassus were strongly suspected The consuls had been armed with of being engaged." it is easy to understand how Mr legal Forsyth. there were abundant grounds. without going so far as to call this unexampled proceeding." Still. When Cicero stood on the prison steps. under the — a terror for which. as the German critic Mommsen does. with 37 some degree of secrecy (as appears from different writers). p. '• an act of the most brutal tyranny.* and there quietly strangled. Executions often took place there. extra-constitutional powers. the act of a weak government uncertain of influence of terror very friends. finds it impossible to reconcile it with our ideas and even-handed its justice. bringing a calm to bear and dispassionate of dignified judgment upon the was the case. Unquestionably they deserved death. at hand) into the Forum. carried down into the gloomy prison-vaults of the Tullianum. for the people to see. 119. t It hasty instinct of self-preservation. It vius Tullius. tical criminals if ever poli- deserved it : the lives it and liberties of good was necessary to strike deep and strike swiftly at a conspiracy which extended no man knew how widely.EXECUTION OF THE CONSPIRATORS. . places of coiifinenient. conveyed by special resolution of the Senate in the comprehensive formula that they " were to look to it that the state suffered no damage. no doubt. where he had waited to receive the report said to have been built in the reign of Serwas twelve feet under ground. by the sole authority of the consul. t Life of Cicero. and the bodies of the criminals were afterwards thrown dowai the Gemonian steps (which were close * A state dungeon. and in which men citizens were in danger.

no doubt very many of those who heard him now that the grasp of Catiline's assassins was. no doubt he that he and^the republic held theirs from that moment by a firmer tenure . was that which poliworse than a crime it was a politiless it — blunder . and in he was fully borne out by the unjustifiable. and Cicero came to find it so in after years tion. The boldness of the consul's measures cowed the disHis affected. at facts : justifiable or the act was burning hearts his and there were which dared not speak out Rome . claimed for himself ever afterwards the sole glory of having saved the state by such prompt and decided action this . for the moment at and the crowd who folall events. and confirmed the timid and wavering.38 of those THE COXSULSIIIP AND CATILINE. their fate the assembled " Vixerurd" (a crowd single word euphemism which we can only weakly translate into felt "They have lived their life"). who were making and announced below in the sure work with the prisoners to within. though — partly from his immense self-apprecia— He and partly from an honest determination to stand by his act and deed in all its consequences he never suffered the shadow of such a confession to appear in Ids most intimate correspondence. hailed such a vigorous avenger as the ' Father of his Country. against the j^opular consul. off their throats lowed the consul home were sincere enough when they felt that they could breathe again. went successfully. all — . himself by no means to be decolleague Antonius For the present. however.' ticians cal But none the have called . . but set it down to his sole account against the day of retribution.

Scarcely a man of them. either swelled prisoner. in the whole world. He did not. For the month that yet remained of his consulship. by judicious to take the management. engage in the campaign actively in person. body easily recognised by his remarkable height was found. but his lieutenant-general was an old soldier for his duty. surrounded by the dead bodies of the Eoman legionaries for the loss on the side of the Republic had been very severe. The last that remained to him of the many noble qualities which had marked his earlier years was a desperate personal Catiline's — and robbers who had escaped or was made — — courage.Pater Patrice. lying far in advance of his followers.DEATH OF pended on at this crisis. as a consequence. quarters —were at length brought and died fighting hard their to the last. either real or pretended . voted him some public testimony of his un- . Catulus and Cato men from whose lips words of honour came with a double weight saluted him publicly by that memorable title oi . except the slaves ranks. having just fit now a of the gout. who cared chiefly and Catiline's band — reckless and desall perate men who had all gathered to his camp from motives and from to bay. but most of the provincial towns of Italy. loobies and com- mons vied honour to the saviour of the state. 39 having but lately formed a coalition with Catiline as against Cicero in the election for consuls —had. indeed. been against the got away from rebel Rome command army in Etruria. Cicero was the foremost man in doing in Rome —and. CATILINE. still breathing. and — — not only the capital.

no doubt. His vanity was indeed a thing to marvel at rather than to smile at. until one (and we may be would think his friends must have hated the subject even more than his enemies. it must have been one of the enjoyments of his He harped season. or have been wise to enough keep it to themselves. Avas continually repeating in some form or other to himself and to every one would day of listen. It is possible that other . in prose and verse.— 40 — THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. rivalled services. He wrote accounts of it and. because of the unlucky jingle peculiarly unpleas- ant to a " Roman ear fortunatam natam me consule Romam or " ! expresses the sentiment which reason or no reason —he —rhyme no rhyme. their men have felt quite as vain of own exploits. in Latin and Greek only limited them to those languages because they were The well-known line which the only ones he knew. consulsliip in season and out of in his judicial pleadings. who last His consulship closed in glory office but on his very was a warning voice raised amidst the triumph. and on far less grounds but surely no man ever paraded his self-complacency like Cicero. which might have opened his eyes there . provoked the ridicule of critics like Juvenal and Quin- — tilian. Other great men have But h^QVL either too really great to entertain the feeling. . ^o man had a more profound appre- ciation of those services than the great orator himself. to Cicero life. in his upon his letters. because it was the vanitv of so able a man. in his public speeches sure in his conversation).

At forty-five years of he has . in a few emphatic words which he seized tlie under cover of a discharge of duty. ]ieiliaps it 41 to come. he protested that his act had saved Eome.. until that fickle popular voice took them life and hoAvled them after the once popular consul. was a perfectly legal exercise of the tribune's power only. about to speak. "Thou hast said true !" and Cicero went home a private citizen. a we confess. the great orator from us an amount of personal interest and sympathy age which he sometimes to command in his career as a statesman. than the unstable glories of the political arena at Rome. he interposed a tribune's . Influenced. who had put Roman There was consternacitizens to death without a trial. Metellus : Nepos had been newly elected one of the tribunes it was his office to guard jealously all the rights and it is privileges of the said. by Coesar — possibly himself an undiscovered parti- san of Catiline — he dealt a blow at the retiring consul ' As Cicero was no veto man should be heard. CLOSE OF HIS CONSULSHIP. Eoman commons. . his family In wins and fails social relations. Cicero could not dispute what tion in the Forum. did — to the troubles which were He stood up in the Rostra to make the usual address to the people on laying down his authority. lus were yet to be echoed by his enemies again again. but with that hearty tribute from his grateful countrymen ringing pleasantly in his ears. he said. But the bitter words of Meteland up. The people shouted in answer. ' opportunity of adding to the usual formal oath on quitting office. Let us follow him for a while into private pleasanter companionship for us.

Without books. and at half-a-dozen other places.£30. where. besides the all. But tliere is no cer- tainty as to the site of Cicero's villa. But its grand feature was a library. and its most valued said.000 a noble mansion on the Palatine . at CuniiB.''' had once belonged to Sulla. as an ample purse allowed him. villas Antium. the delight of his life to him almost what Abhome which it was the embellish — his its country-house It among Rome. at Pompeii. at Puteoli. but this was when he was deprecating accusations of extravagance which were brought against him. and we all understand something of the pride which in such matters " apes humility. he a soul. and was about twelve miles from In that beloved building and arrangements he indulged. the pleasant hills of Tusculum. house was but a body without * He entertained for these Near the modern town of Frascati. bought for become a very wealthy man Hill — has some- thing like . able among the Romans of that day as the Louis Quatorze style was with our grandfathers.— . he could walk and discuss jiolitics or philosophy with Greek taste and design were as fashionhis friends. not only a highly-cultivated taste. one fav- ourite spot of which was to botsford was to Scott. or enlarged. . it " A mere cottage." He would have it on the plan of the Academia at Athens. as he tells us.SHIP ANh CATILINE. but in some respects almost a he himself terms whimsical fancy." in one place . a furni- ture was books. or they stood. and besides the old-fashioned family seat near Arpinum he has at — now become his own by bought his father's death as built. with its palcBstra and open colonnade. at Formias.

the young Luculkis. so far apart in their chosen course of life —when and the they met there in the brief holidays which Cicero stole from the law-courts and the Forum. paintings. too. wherever he set lion besides . in that home of lettered ease. to his neighbour's. Very pleasant must have been the days spent together by the two friends so alike in their private tastes and though for sculpture — liabits. Morning calls were an which a country gentleman was liable in A man like ancient Italy as in modern England. good company. and sauntered in the shady walks. passion of a bibliophile he was particular about his bindings. a kind of ward of his. as he tells us. except for such subjects as might form ap])ropriate decorations for his j^alcestra and his library. but the . He could walk across. Greek slaves employed from time to time in making copies of all such works as were not to be readily pur- chased. and borrow from the library of that splendid His friend Atticus mansion any book he wanted. insisted on bestowing their tediousness on . where the busy lawyer politician declared that he forgot life. for a while all toils and vexations of public He had his little happy hours infliction to annoyances. up his rest. collected for him everywhere — statuary. and admired the gay colours of the covers in which the precious manuscripts were kept as w^ell as He had clever the more intellectual beauties within. even in these of retirement.CICERO'S VILLA treasures not only the AT calm love of a reader. or lounged in the cool library. he professes not to care much. manuscripts. however. and somewhat of a Cicero Avas very and country neighbours.

writer doubtless knew how sophy which he recommends place cheerfully and took society his and pleasantly in the which he found about him or saved a state. indeed. count the waves as they rolled on the beach was happiness . even letters to Atticus . were the company most congenial to him . his favourite residence next to Tusculum. he " had " to " politics might go to the dogs . more like a public hall. with all its literar}^ leisure. he protested. public life of the capital. —not despising his honest neighall bours because they had not adorned a consulship There were times when Cicero fancied that this rural and refinements of "wealth and taste was better worth living than the His friends and his books. own library with Atticus in their . had the considera- tion not to trouble him after ten or eleven in the fore- noon (fashionable ably early) . Arrius. especially his next-door neighbour. he said. rather be " rather mayor of sit in his Antium than consul at Rome " . in and out at all hours : the dis- former had an unfortunate taste for philosophical and was postponing his return to to Eome (he to was good enough to say) from day day in order enjoy these long mornings in Cicero's conversation.44 liim. and a friend's friend. was not very unpleasant. Such are the doleful complaints in two or three of the popularity. who were cussion. Most of his visitors. they : were probably only half in earnest at a watering-place. like all sucli complaints. calls in those days began uncomfort- but there v^^ere one or two. was. life. but. named Sebosus. and the to practise the social philoto others. THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. His villa at Formiae.

But per- haps Horace discharges a sly jest at himself. and live in her light all employment abroad." other strain had nothing in it of affectation or hypoit was the schoolboy escaped from work. there was a similarity between Cicero's taste and that of Horace. In this. in the person of Al]3hius. my friend. Above all. simplicity. The mind is *' be found in these words to his friend Coelius Cling to the city.— LIFE IX THE COUNTRY. favourite seat under the bust tlie : : 45 than in of Aristotle It is curule chair. who is : made to utter that pretty apostrophe to rural happiness . half-real. in a soit of aside to his readers. for pastoral wliich has always marked a state of over-luxurious civilisation." retirement usually followed some political defeat or true that these longings for mortification . as I have felt from my earliest to manhood. thorcrisy : oughly enjoying his holiday. all its rural The poet loved his Sabine . he loved to write about it. the rich city money-lendei". With that fancy. perhaps. is obscure and petty for those who have Yet the abilities to make them famous at Eome. farm and delights — after his fashion and perhaps thought honestly that he loved it more than he really did. again. self that there is he protests to him- nothing like the country. life in which he could be was in the keen ex- citement of party warfare —the glorious battle-field of true key-note of his the Senate and the Forum. the only really happy. and fancying that nothing w^ould be so delightful as to have holidays always. and half-affected. that his natural sphere.

Vexed by no thoughts of usury or gold. calls in in order to settle there. banishment from tion to perpetual leisure. living simply. all money one out again and puts (no doubt at higher interest) the week after." Martin's ' Horace. . and condemnawould have been a sentence that would have crushed their very souls. Who. and anything more would have been out of the natural course of things in Eoman society at any date. — Georrr. Tills the few acres which his father tilled. as to the great Roman. after thus expatiating for some his it all stanzas on the charms of the country. ii. and even so much as this days. 524. he loved one another with an honest affection." * Interia dulces pendent circnm oscnla nati Casta pudicitiam scrvat domus. like our sires of old. political life.* And week who. He was Avife His very happy at this time in his family. to whom." . " riis. in busy scliemes unskilled. quando ie aspiciam ! " has been the cry of public men before and since Cicero's day. " 46 Happy the man. or one to be realised only in some happy retirement into which the civilised vices of the capital had never penetrated " Where " loving children climb to reach a kiss of chaste delights A home and wedded bliss. was become a notable exception in these later It is paying a high honour to the character of Cicero and his household —and from all evidence that has come down to us it may be it paid with truth —that ori- even in those evil times ginal of what Virgil might have presented the drew as almost a fancy picture.— — THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE.

TULLIA His pet little AND AlARCUS." "a conjecture. Tullia. under Caesar. See 'Letters to Atticus/ 12 . against the sons of this * Pompey . The boy gave his father some trouble in He served with some credit as an officer of cavalry under into to Pompey in Greece." after life. or Tulliola.. which was her (the name Eoman diminutives being formed some- what more elegantly than ours."* These messages are written inGreekat the end of the letters.' p. He ii. was the delight of his heart in his earlier letters to Atticus he is constantly making some affectionate mention of her —sending her love. or some stand. but father did not approve of change of side. Abeken thinks that in the originals they might have been added in the little Cicero's own hand. playful message which his friend would under- She had been happily married (though she at the most) the year before his was then but thirteen consulship father . His only son. Marcus. Some tlie years after.s 'Cicero in Seinen Briefen. . born able interval. but the affectionate intercourse between interrujited until her after a consider and daughter was never early death. 114. he wished take service in Spain. persuaded him to go to 9. ish is made also occasionally to send some child: word of to his father's old friend " Cicero the Little sends his compliments to Titus the Athenian " — " Cicero the Philosopher salutes Titus the Politician. " too pleasant not to be readily admitted. Merivale's translation of Abeken'. by adding a syllable instead of cutting short). " to show that he had begun Greek . or at least got no trouble there." says ]Mr Merivale. 47 daughter. who succeeded remembrance to TuUia's place as a house hold pet.

at all satisfactorily. whose lectures he attended. the line of the had flashed into fame with have found considerable the great orator. . so that the some quarter or other. at any rate. It knows them. residences in all parts of the country. same opinion . however. among the philosophers than he did spent a great deal He more than his allowance. these expenses often led Cicero difficulties but what he borrowed from his friends he seems always to have repaid. and to embellish in accordance with so luxurious a taste. had the The young man credit of helping him to spend it. and one of the professors. to study instead. showing very good It is feeling. the young cavalry officer — might not have been of the he got into more trouble in the army. . which Probably Cicero held to be an unnecessary luxury. into debt and True. allowing him what both At- and himself thought a very liberal income not sufficient.48 Athens ticus THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. He wrote a confidential letter to Tiro. money must have come His patrimony at Arpinum would not appear to have been large he got only some £3000 or £4000 dowry with Terentia. however. but died without so far at least as history and. and died out with him. the sources of the magnificent fortune which must have been required to keep up. for him to keep a horse. and promising re- formation. doubtful how far the promise was He rose. kept. must have shared the kindly disposition of his father. the old family servant. and we find no hint of his making in from . AU Cicero's biographers difficulty in tracing. so many . Ciceros was extinct. power under Augustus. subsequently to place and issue .

would be only moderate. he went unwillingly as proconsul to Cilicia. he had received from source voL ix. but he steadily eschewed them. may early fairly be attributed to his having in view the higher object of the consulship. as before in his lower office in Sicily. as it some Eoman is On the other hand. in one of his this Philippics. money by any commercial gentlemen justice to did. by an and persistent canvass. the barest him to say that his hands were clean from those ill-gotten gains which of the wealthiest public made the fortunes of many men at Rome. D . came too late in his life to be any explanation of his earlier expenditure. he in felt it necessary to remain But he again waived the right when his consulship w^as over and when. which was his right on the expiration of his pr?etorship.SOURCES OF INCOME. c. He received many it valuable legacies. tional in a was marked by a probity and honesty quite excepRoman governor. or from personal friends childless (be grateful clients who it is died remembered how" the barrenness of the said marriage union had become then. and. provinces which they were sent out to govern.' that A. to secure which. his adminEome. at different times. and downright robbery in the unfortunate Such His declining opportunities lay as ready to his grasp as to other men's. whatever they were. confined strictly within the legal bounds. some years afterwards. His emoluments. as to be in some countries now. who were crimthan Yerres inals in only a less degree — peculation. the reproach of a sensual . and * effete aristocracy) he boasts himself. the tempting prize of a provincial government. at Rome. 49 speculations. . extortion. istration there.

* to But with all respect for Cicero's material letters. above £170. to in the Senate and before the people. Cicero . indeed. one learns from his unfortunately. . after a cause was decided. so that to this very day. one of his clients. not put implicit confidence in him when he is in a boasting vein . and he might not look upon voluntary gifts. * The principle passed. for in many cases the relation of patron client edly established between influential a foreign state it was avowand some as of Eoman : and became his duty. in the light of pay- ment. honesty. from Sicily. from the old Roman law into our own.50 THE CONSULSHIP AND CATILINE. such payments were forbidden by law." held " retainers " from Dyrrachium have added. gave him a valuable this library of books . like so many others. that he never took anything for his services as an advocate . are not recoverable by law. In this way. he thinks. being considered in the nature of an honorarium. or that there were not other transactions of the same nature which never found their way into any letter of Cicero's that was likely to come down to us. a barrister's fees. he might The great orator's own boast was.000. and. Psetus. defend it course it was his interest. and one cannot believe that was a solitary instance of the quiet evasion of the Cincian law. presents that were Mr Forsyth also notices the large foreign kings made by and states to conciliate the support at Borne — "we and advocacy of the leading men call can hardly them and bribes. or voluntary present made to him for his services. and.

and to take the . Both. —plans sus- which Cicero more or successful campaigns.CHAPTER HIS EXILE IT. into contact. Cicero had never left it "We must return to Rome. was but for his short occasional holiday. in office. to enjoy the most splendid triumph ever seen at Rome. totally inconsistent with any remnant of republican liberty less suspected. by their had not only acquired fame and honours. Pompey and aiid Caesar were both gradually becoming formidable. He was soon to be brought and more or less into opposition. and of that picion they were probably both aware. Pompey was — — still absent in Spain. the two great chiefs of parties in whose feuds he be- came at length so fatally involved. and his late dignity gave him important with precedence in the Senate. but a far more dangerous influence an influence which was to overwhelm all others hereafter in the affection of their legions. both had ambitious plans of their own. AND RETURN. the ex-consul still Though no longer one of the foremost public men. but soon to return from his long war against Mithridates.

at the celebraa kind of religious tion of the rites of the Bona Dea freemasonry amongst the Roman ladies. lent himself to the attempt. once a friend and supporter of Cicero against Catiline. but who had already made himself notorious for the most abandoned profligacy. and probably Avould in any case be best left without explanation. upon whom all extook advantage of Pompey's attack make an upon him. in a woman's dress. under the just wrath of the oflFended godThe celebration had been held in the house of . a young man of noble family. jealous of Cicero even more than of Pompey. But the blow fell on Cicero at last from a very different quarter. moved in the Senate that the successful general. and which was held to lay the — wliole city dess. to constant to his old party watchword. the mysteries of which are very little known. Publius Clodius. long and so lead of the oligarchical party just so far as they v/ould help him to the power he coveted. pectations were centred." All knew against whom the motion was aimed. The measure was not passed. though Csesar. should be recalled to Eome with his army " to restore the violated constitution. it was the putting citizens to death without a trial.52 EXILE AND RETURX. and what the violation of the constitution meant . Cicero had The enemies -whom made by his strong measures in the matter of the Catilinarian conspiracy now name and popularity The tribune Metellus. But for a man to have been present at them was a sacrilege hitherto unheard of. and from the mere private grudge of a determined and unprincif)led man. was detected.

it : and he Cicero came forward as a witness to disprove liad met and spoken with Clodius in Eome that very The evidence was clear enough. after some delay. But he never forgave the part which Cicero had taken against him. But the temptation to a jest. with the often-quoted remark that •' Caesar's wife this crime —unpardonable even in that corrupt The defence set must not be even suspected. CLODIUS. Caesar. in our modern eyes the coarsest jests when they met in the street. unscrupulous. and other corrupting influences of even a more disgraceful kind. — very and of exchanging with him much to the detriment of his own character and dignity. jury had been tampered with by Clodius and his friends evening. but the. was. 53 Pompeia profligate . for they were remembered against . and he escaped conliberal bribery. and from that viction time forth the latter found a new. as praetor. under the presidency of his wife was said that the object of the young but Caesar stances are not favourahle to the suspicion divorced her forthwith. The circum. brought to up was an alihi. time underrated this new danger.. had been successfully brought to bear upon the majority of them. by a few votes. He lost no oppor- tunity of taunting the unconvicted criminal in the bitterest terms in the Senate. of whose services his old opponents Cicero himself for some gladly availed themselves. of whatever kind. was always irresistible to Cicero it was a weakness for which he more than : — once paid dearly. indefatigable enemy. when public crimes of far deeper dye passed almost unre- proved — Clodius trial. and it was an intrigue with that lady." Tor society.

and social excommunication. and the consuls of the year were men of infamous character. *'all honest men" (it was his favourite term . since the tribune must be a man of the commons." Such was the legal form of words which implied banishment from Eome. for all The powers of the office were formidable purposes of obstruction and attack. he had found a successful means of bribery by the promise of getting a special law passed to secure them the choice of the richest provincial governments for whom —those coveted all fields of plunder — of which they would lot. outlawry. Meanwhile Clodius — a sort of milder Catiline. when lie had forgotten them. It was carried — carried in spite of the indignain tion of all honest men Rome. otherwise have had to take their chance by When he brought before the people in full assembly the following bill of pains and " Be it enacted. and water.54 liim EXILE AXD RETURN. and went about the streets thus silently imploring the pity of his fellow-citizens. Avhole of his In vain the own equestrian order. Clodius had taken pains to ingratiate himself with all classes . not without qualities — many . as he declares. that whoever has put to penalties death a Roman citizen uncondemned in due form of was ripe for his revenge. and in fact. was in vain that he put on mourning. as was the custom with those who were impeached of public crimes. : — trial. Every man knew against whom the motion was levelshall be interdicted from fire led. popular ^liad got himself elected tribune degrading himself formally from his own order of nobles for that purpose. in spite of all Cicero's humiliating efforts to obtain It its rejection.

coldly.DEPARTURE FROM ROME. The Senate even met and passed a resolution that their whole house should put on mourning not to too. for 55 men of his o^vn party). could make to was any personal appeal which Cicero the only two men who might have had to influence enough sway the popular vote. at a public meeting. in fact. Piso. He was foresaw ostensibly on good terms both with Pompey and Csesar. From Pompey Cicero had a right to look for some active support ) indeed. that he could make them " better citizens. He that on their future course would probably depend the fate of Rome. once called But Gabinius. In vain. He threw himself at his feet with prayers and but even this last humiliation was in vain . had satirically suggested that thus he might "save Rome" a second time. adopted the same dress to show their sympathy. he made it his policy so to be. and some might serve to meet the case. had taken. his villas at His property was at For- Tusculum and . at once confiscated. tears. perhaps honestly. and he persuaded himself. one of the consuls. not altogetlier and both saw in him an obCaesar now looked on sorry at the turn which affairs ." But he trusted neither stacle to their own ambition. such had been promised in case of faiutly suggested that perhaps " milder measure" need. one of tlie consuls. and warned the people of thinking that the Senate make the mistake also. of good family — all and twenty thousand youths in mourning accompanied him — through the city. and he anticipated the execution of that disgraceful edict by a voluntary withdrawal into exile. was Rome.

head him- of his legions just outside the gates of Rome. The sensible practical Atticus convinced him that such a solu- tion of his difficulties would be the greatest possible. and shaken the dust off his than that whicli he chose. He was to rely. the consuls claim- ing the lion's share of the spoil. upon those the edict . — .— EXILE AND RETURN. — and become a noble pensioner upon Atticus at Buthrotum he would have died a greater man. and call on all good citizens to arm in his defence. 56 miae were plundered and laid waste. with our modern notions on the subject. which could never bel ' rectified. with Caesar against him. He wandered from place to place. j mistake —a mistake. feet against the ungrateful city. we suppose. self seriously He contemplated suicide. though. if he could have made up his mind to such a course. Modern historians very generally have assumed that. I But almost any course would have become him better Had he remained and faced Clodius and his bravos manfully or had he turned his back upon Rome for ever. and consulted his friends as to the propriety of such a step in the gravest and most business-like manner. and Clodius. to remain " twenty thousand Roman youths " —rather now a broken gal reed to trust ta (remembering what those young at the lants were). and erected on the site a temple strongly urged Liberty Cicero had friends who at him to defy Rome. moreover. with his armed mob. ! noble house on the Palatine. such a consultation has more of and ' tlie ludicrous than the sublime. it would probably have been successful. razed to it set fire to the to the ground.

but still it would have been only consistent with Roman fortitude to have shown tliat he possessed something of the spirit of the fallen archan-^el." * * Forsyth's Life of Cicoro. frowned upon by his sovereign. die. and which his detractors have not failed to make the most of. when. and banished from ihe court. distance from the capital. his family was penniless. iSov is it easy to find excuse for him. but he was under the Ijan of an outlaw. which Cicero's most eager eulogists admit. has the ' ' that the love of country was a passion with the ancients to a degree which it is now difficult to realise. If found witliin a certain and it was death to His propeity was destroyed. and the people whom he had so faithfully served were the authors of his ruin. whose unselfish loyalty marks their names with honour in tliat false and evil generation Sica. the scene of all his hopes.— B EHA sheltered VI OCR — 57 AV EXILE. and Plancius bemoaning himself friends like by a blinded with tears to write. The change to Cicero was indeed tremendous. All this may be urged in his behalf. p. and exile from it even for a time was felt to be an intolerable evil. — "too — going mad. but we will give : him all the benefit of Mr Forsytli's defence " Seldom has misfortune so crushed a noble spirit. he to give must any one him footl or shelter. his triumphs. to dwell upon this miserable weakness of a great mind. We nmst remember never." " loathing the light of day. and Flaccus. . Not only was he an exile from Eome." Atticus thought he was It is not jDleasant woman. perhaps. his glories. The nearest approach to such a feeling was perhaps that of some favourite under an European monarchy. he was hurled from place and power. and bitter bread of banishment seemed more bitter to any one than to him. 190.

." ges- So significant and emphatic were his tone and . the 'Andromache' of Ennius was being played in the theatre. On one of the days when the Senate was known to be discussing his recall. and all the frantic violence of Clodius and his party served only to delay for a while the return which they could not prevent. Caesar was absent with his legions in Gaul friends.^sop. The new consuls were well towards him Clodius's insolence had already disgusted . The great orator had been his pupil. was playing the principal character. his generous rival liortensius being amongst the most active . force of his With own all the consummate art. The words in the part were strikingly ap- propriate. Cicero had one remarkable ally on that occasion. His exile lasted nearly a year and a half. nor spared himself. he threw into Androfeelings mache's lament for her absent father his for Cicero. 58 EXILE AND RETURN. his own who had all along been active in his favour (though in his querulous mood he accused them of apathy) took advantage of the change. Pompey. the people's side in perilous times. Long be- fore that time there had come a reaction disposed in his favour. and was evidently regarded by him as a personal friend. last A motion for liis recall was cai'ried at by an immense majority. two of " his and he did not hesitate to insert a phrase or own when he came to speak of the man with a constant mind upheld the oil Who Stood state. whose name lias come down to us in conjunction with that of Roscius. The popular actor . Ne'er recked of his own life.

and commons. fewer stiU could them so well. &c. and. made him repeat the passage. as they sat in their respective seats in the crowded rows before him. and the tears even more than the applause of the whole audience bore witness alike to their feelings towards the exile." says Cicero (for he that tells the story). knights. .— ^SOP THE ACTOR. some He it though he puts of introducing into the mouth of another speaker. success. " He pleaded my it is cause before the Eoman people."* He had earlier been visited with a remarkable dream. * Defence of Sestins. 56. which were not set down for him it the words audience. c. — — 59 ture as he addressed himself pointedly to his Eoman cf to amid a storm He added plaudits. during the days of his interest. and the dramatic power of the actor. courage from liis The actor drew on. tells which he now recalled with us this story also himself. If few were so fond into in his dialogue on " Divination. his own voice broke with grief. — " Best of all friends in direst strait of war " ! and the applause was redoubled. while staying with one of his friends in Italy. exile. When. as the play went he came to speak the words " And you you let hun live a banished man See him driven forth and hunted from your gates — \r !" he pointed to the nobles." personal anecdotes for every place where he could find room tell them. " with far more weight of eloquence than I could have pleaded for myself. that they recalled him.

he said. bade me be of good cheer. " I had lain awake a great part of the night. easy to believe that the fortunes of his great at townsman Marius." faith There as was no need to doubt the perfect good of the story which he But if tells. I strict silence should be kept. were continually present to the exile's thoughts. The temple dedicated Honour and as the *' Virtue. He landed at Brundusium on his daughter's birthday. and that . known Monument and it of Marius. who had gallantly maintained her father's cause throughout. he caught my hand. I shouid find my deliverance. own it lictor to lead me to his monument." So indeed to had turned first out. I thought I awoke. in this case. and told deriiig alone in liini my was w^an- some solitary place. appeared to me. had given orders though we had to to my attendant that.60 EXILE AND RETUnX. and at last towards dawn had begun to sleep soundly and I heavily. She had only just lost her husband Piso. when Caius Marius laurel. and put me under the guidasked why I ance of his there. earliest authenticated instances of a dream cominc: dreams are fashioned out of our waking imagiit is nations. start that very morning. was on no o'clock I account to be disturbed when about seven dream. in which the Senate sat when is they passed the resolution for Cicero's recall. may be set down one of the true. with his fasces bound with and was so sad? And when I answered that I had been driven from my country. His return was a triumphal progress. and the scenes in the Senate Eome. but she Avas the first to welcome him with tears of joy which overmastered her .

when Eome herself looked as though she had wrenched . place ? how the people I speak of my arrival at each crowded the streets in the towns . TO ROME. If he tells he does more than once) with an undisimpossible guised pride. how they flocked in from the country — fathers of families Avith wives and children ? can I describe those days. corporation. it is a pride with wliich it is He boasted afterwards that he had not to sympathise. He was careful to lose Horace made twenty-four. Capua. it (as been "carried back a ad Plutarch says to it Eome on the shoulders of Italy. the right hand of welcome on behalf of % my native land From thence to Eome my progress district. There was no no town. Let him tell the story of his own reception. and Aricia. occupied Cicero But he chose not the shortest but the most public route. when I saw the Senate and the population of ranks come forth to greet me. as though it were That safe return ? of the immortal gods." to was a boast he had good right make. easily in twelve days. 61 no chance of making He took his way to Rome with his return impressive. Who does not know what my return How the people of Brundusium held likel " as I all home was out to me. when some high festival all kept holiday. from which a public deWhy need putation M^as not sent to congratulate me. or colony. through Naples. Minturnse. was march of all Italy.RETURN sorrow. Terracina. in joy for my How single day was to me all like immortality. The journey which the slow march of a conqueror. when I re- turned to my own city. might like a say.

It is a curious note of the temper and logical capacities of the mob. in which he congratulated himself on his return. of every rank and degree. It was more than suspected that Crassus. to the Capitol.62 herself EXILE AND RETURN. the houses. the lower class of citizens crowded the steps of the temples to see him as he passed. escorted by troops of queror. in all ages of the world alike. one in the Senate and another to the people assembled in the Forum. For nearly four years more. men and women. though unable to shake for he was now Cicero's recovered position in the state supported by Pompey — Clodius — and his partisans. but even the very walls. that within a few hours of their applauding to the echo this speech of Cicero's. Clodius suc- ceeded in exciting them to a serious riot by appealing to the ruinous price. the temples. ages. friends. and callings. backed by pay. only all For she received me in such sort. (if He made two his. and Kome on having regained her most illustrious citizen. of corn as one of the results of the exile's return. of his most florid speeches indeed they be which is doubtful). now utterly estranged from Pompey. from her foundations to rush to embrace her preserver. that not sexes. more than a con- His exultation was naturally as intense as his despair had been. and so he rode. supplied out of . a gilded chariot waited for him at the city gates ." The Senate in a body came out to receive him on the Appian road. kept a strong force of trained gladiators in their Rome in a state of anarchy which is almost inexplicable. seemed to share the universal joy.

DEATH OF CLOD I US. publicly on the Eostra. of the Elections were overawed. meetings Senate interrupted. hoped to where Pompey and Ccesar. and maintained an opposition patrol of quite approved. felt comfort in the thought that this final argument could be resorted to by his own party. a man of determined and unscrupulous character. if they did not openly sanction. the man statesman. now one of the candidates for the consulship. murdered. Eut Clodius's mob-government. for Already to think a men began to look to mili- and good cause none the worse being backed by "strong battalions." . at any rate." tending to the i)oint Things were fast trusty allies as yet in profession rivals at heart. deadly step in with their veteran leof peace and constitution- gions. the dead body was carried and laid Eiots ensued. It came at last. and appearance. al Even Cicero. this irregular ties championship of their streets of . Bovillae. had turned his hired gladiators and wild-beast fighters. assassinations threatened and attempted. A at began between their intense and Clodius was killed — his friends said. named Pompey —not indeed ''Dictator. own weapons The Senate The two par- against him. tary rule. Milo was obliged . and renounce his hopes of power and the Senate. order. intimidated. w^as to be put an end to somewhat suddenly. in a casual meeting on the scuffle Appian road. his 63 this enormous wealtli the means of keeping on foot lawless agitation. walked the Eome like the Capulets and Montagues at Yerona and it was said that Milo had been heard to swear that he would rid the city of Clodius if he ever got the chance. Milo. : The excitement Rome was to fly. near retainers.

yet this strange scene and strangely constituted court does terrify my eyes. as has come down at once a magnificent piece of irony. is girt with no such audience as was wont thip . But Pompey. gentlemen. and was now called upon to defend Milo. for the safety of the state. Cicero had resumed his practice as an advocate. I look in vain for the ancient customs of the Forum. The jury were overawed by his presence in person at the trial. and a vindication of the rights of counsel. I should be unable to bring to his defence the like magnanimous spirit. for. For your tribunal . and by the occupation by armed soldiers of all the avenues of the court under colour of keeping order. or in order to win favour with the populace. either from some private grudge. determined that Milo should he convicted. and the old to-day style of public trials. that when safety of Milo himself far more anxious about the the state than about his own. name had become almost as hateful as that of King —but sole consul. that it is a disgrace to me to show fear when I stand here to plead and espein behalf of one of the bravest of men . trial for high treason or Cicero affected to see in Pompey's legionaries fine passage in the it nothing more than the maintainors of the peace of the city.— 64 for the EXILE AND RETURN. — cially does such weakness is ill become me. and the opening of his speech for the defence. "Although I am conscious. But he knew to us. turn them Avhere I will. It was really as great an outrage upon the free administration of justice as the jiresence of a regiment of soldiers at the entrance to Westminster Hall would be at a modern sedition. is better .

those to us not peril but protection and men. As to the rest of the audience. in. all. his chilA. vol. though the military force which sur- rounds us be wholesome and needful. then to of his soldiers . still do a sort of the violence to the pleader couj-t since in the Forum and of justice. hand him over to the swords nor consonant with his wisdom to of a arm the violent passions of the state. E . those crowds nor is there any single man among whom from which a glimpse of this court can be gained. who surely would not think it compatible with that justice.. tliey were set there in hostile array against I would yield to circumstances. prevent violence. DEFENCE OF is MILO. (J. proclaim they promise they encourage us to be not only undisturbed but confident me not only support in pleading for it the defence. who. gentlemen. but silence for to be listened it to. are all on our side. And if 1 thought I\Iilo. does not also feel that the fate of himself. mob with the authority officers . so far as is composed of peaceful citizens. I know. looking on in anxious expectation of the result of this trial. all 65 no ordinary crowd that hems us you see on duty in front of set to Yon guards whom though the temples. wliile you see occupying every point he approves the boldness of the defendant. yet . Therefore those weapons. ix. yet we cannot even be thus freed from apprehension without looking with some apprehension on the means. advice of a But T am encouraged by man of great wisdom and justice of Pompey. an<l for the pleader amidst feel there was no room such the a display of weapons. after — committing a prisoner to the verdict of a jury.

. hangs upon the issue of to- day. that it or. This presence of a military force under the orders of Ponipey- — the saw. The great advoterms as those in which we read it. was never made. stop . as far as we can at least in such powerful ascertain. and tears are his defence. consul. and a your duty to protect ' man whom it is — Not —by so no means. must be so. doom he I am ready. ' Clodius has met the if it . cate was wholly unmanned by the scene before him. the pathos of which has always been admired " I : would it had been client the will of heaven — if I may say so with all reverence for my country. tliat for I fear lest is dis- my duty to my may make me say what loyal towards her — I would Publius Clodius were praetor. that in your verdict you dare to give utterance to what I know you feel. he closes his speech with a peroration. I entreat you. grew nervous.' says well deserved that : he. or rather. before what says Milo % my eyes had seen this sight But He speaks like a brave man." After an elaborate argument to prove that the slaying of Clodius by Milo was in self-defence. to meet But I must . and his country. worst. EXILE AND RETURN. as he hoped. and broke down utterly in his speech — for the defence. at the was a fate which he well deserved as a public enemy. which I do not deserve.— 66 dren. I adjure you.' I can no longer speak for tears an argument which he Avould scorn for . dic! not only alive. the good genius of man in whom he Rome overawed — . ye who sit here in judg- ment. but that he were tator even." But the appeal Avas in vain.

became an era in his mental records of only less significance than his consulship. That "battle of Bovillae. in the eyes of Cicero and Ms party." known the flavour The removal of Clodius was Avhich Cicero a deliverance upon never ceased to congTatulate himself. as in the previous case of Yerres. he is said to have declared that " it was fortunate for him it was when he not spoken." and which he would gladly have declined. and elabolittle Milo was con- victed by a large majority . or he should never have of the red mullet of Marseilles. an honour which he had long coveted and he was appointed to the government of Cilicia. as has been said. He was elected into the Col. CI LI CI A. doubt but that he was legally however political expediency might. Milo escaped any worse penalty by into voluntary at once going banishment at Martseiiles. the finished rate composition of his calmer hours. This latter was a greatness literally " thrust upon him. honoural ly indiffe- . lege of Augurs. have all justified his deed. in fact. for it took him away . and did he could to insure an acquittal. His own public life continued to be hon- ourable and successful. 67 The speech wliieh we read is almost certainly not that which he delivered. in these eventful days from his beloved for enriching Eome and to these grand opportunities himself he was. showing openly his voting-paper to his fellow-jurors. tliere can be guilty. with that scorn of the " liberty of silence " which he shared with Cicero. but. for read the speech in his exile.GOVERNMENT OF and disturbed him. Cato sat on the jury." as he terms it. — But he showed more practical philosophy than his advocate.

and gained a victory which his legions thought of sufficient importance to salute him with the honoured title of " imperator. the only result was his parading about with him everywhere. fact. of at a governor their own. the governor-generalship Bombay. Prime Minister of England.68 rent. like Cicero. Unluckily they led him to entertain hopes of the further glory of a triumph. and a considerable inconvenience . who had served with distinction under Caesar in Gaul). a grand subject for evil-disposed jesters. and neither robbed nor ill-used them. and might hope one day to be again. He made a little upon some troublesome hill-tribes (intrusting the command chiefly to his brother Quintus. but for the revolution which followed. and this. he confessed. in man like Cicero. he might possibly have obtained. which became. the lictors with laurelled fasces. too. little better : than an honour- able form of exile it was like conferring on a man who had of been. The appointment a to a distant province was." And again the astonished provincials marvelled who looked upon them as having rights war. One consolation he found on reaching his new government that even in the farthest wilds of Cilicia there were people who had heard of " the consul who saved — Eome. are naturally and . as to himself. essentially civilians to Cicero's vanity they were doubly delightful. claimed — which betokened that a triumph was a pompous incumbrance. for months after his return." flattering to Such military honours and are especially men who. to EXILE AND RETURX. from town to town. As it was.

CICERO AXD C^SAR. " Sullaiimt . he threw in his lot with Pompey. He was certainly influenced in part by personal attachment : Pompey seems to have exer- cised a degree of fascination over his weakness. he clung to him nevertheless." but though the former showed liking for him. be a despotism. at the rious legions with which all had struck terror into the Germans. He hesitated a — Ccesar would gladly have had his support. great But Cicero. and made him fair offers but when the Rubicon was crossed." He foresaw that Pompey's real designs were as dangerous to the liberties of Rome as any of which Ct^sar could be suspected. The future master of Eome was now coming home. overrun Spain. and " pacified" Gaul. left his mark upon Britain. head of the victolie after nearly ten years' absence. that he was. He foreboded that. in common with most little of the senatorial party. it end which way let the contest " the result would certainly would. failed to see in Julius Csesar the man . He knew Pompey's that Coesar was indecision of character.CHAPTER Y. and confessed "a prodigy little of energy.

^* he says of him in one of his letters. " Sic vwihw " est " . from But exj^emore or less. coining a verb to put his idea strongly Sulla. a policy of expedients. He found out afterwards. and must be a statesman. Only possible to forgive old this makes it him f( r the little feeling that he showed Avhen he heard of Pompey's own at this eventful crisis miserable end. as he tells Atticus. But there seems reason to accuse Cicero of double-dealing or trimming in the worst sense. he must do to some extent what Cicero professed to first to last. but they are acted upon continually . It may be questioned whether at this date we are in any position more than a very cautious and general judgment upon them. the watchword of diency is. and that his name figured as one of the victims. "We want all the "state papers" and political correspondence of the day not Cicero's to pass — to letters only. —" So " do —make friends with those in power. If he would practically serve his country.— 70 CICERO AND CJiSAR. His policy was unquestionably." — "he wants to be lil<e was no more than the truth. that proscription-lists of all C?esar's adherents had been pre- And it pared by friend's Pompey and his partisans. and much information besides that was never to trusted pen or paper — in order down little with any accuracy the course which patriot a really unselfish could have taken. cmwius. Cicero's conduct and motives have been discussed over and over again. goes the world " " TempoH serviendum We must bend " to circumstances —these are not the noblest mottoes. but those of C«3sar and Pompey and Lenlay tulus.

was worth seem to pre- —how any honest des2:)otism could him this more is to be dreaded than that prostituted liberty. Before another year was past." But that commonwealth was past saving even in name. who do not open their hearts to their friends so unIt . It was suggested who had hitherto remained constant to the fortunes of his party. What he saw in those " dregs of a calls tliat Republic. lost.PHARSALIA. as of its fitness for the display of his own abilities. Within two months of his having been declared a public enemy. the battle of Pharsaliii had been fought. and was then in their camp at Dyrrachium. as to preserve some tion for shadow of it. he withdrew from a cause which he saw was returned to Italy. that he should take the chief command. seemed to him a choice between Pompey and Caesar and he probably hoped to be able so far to influence the former. to Cicero. him "traitor. set at rest * ^'FffiK Eomiili. — The remark of Abeken seems to go very near the truth "His devotion to the commonwealth Wiis grounded not so much upon harder to comprehend. by the most respectable 71 men in public and private life. which came any personal apprehensions from that . reservedly as Cicero does to his friend Atticus."* as he himself serving . all Italy was at Caesar's feet. and The meeting between him and at last. a constitu- Eome." Caesar. — his conviction of its actual merits. though not to Rome. and the great Pompey lay a headless corpse on the sea-shore in Egypt." and drew their swords and though men upon him. but he had the sense to decline called .

' of whic? In this more will be said hereafter. to philosophy for consolation. of and the Tusculan Disputations. It was at this time that he wrote two of his philo' sophical treatises.' * known ' to us as The True Ends latter. The orator paid the Dictator compliments in the Senate. in vain. He had again taken up his residence in was gone. —died —again at his married. They gradually became on almost friendly terms.72 . and just divorced villa. . which he named from • * his favourite country-house. His dear daughter Tullia but unhappily. Tusculan Their loving intercourse had undergone no change from her childhood. and found that. he addressed himself to the subjects which suited best with his own De Finibus Bonoruin et ^lalorum ' —a title hard to translate. his favourite jokes were repeated to the great man. in private society. With but his such little successes he was obliged now to be content. OICERO AND CESAR. He shut himself up for thirty The letters of condolence from well-meaning friends were to him — as they so often are — as the speeches of the three comforters to Job. Life. as He turned he pathetically says. and were highly appreciated. . have made any quarter. as his exile had done. . and employ itself in Rome political occupation his active mind had leisure to some of his literary works. and the conqueror's behaviour was nobly forgetful of the past. '"'Gfeero' does not ap[)ear to dishonourable submission. days. and his grief was for a while inconsolable. upon him which prostrated him for the time. and under which he claims our far more natural It was at this time that the blow fell sympathy.

. him sadly in their practical application to off He never could shake felt in from himself that dread of death which he a degree unusually vivid for a Eoman. or that diversion of thought which so mercifully serves the purpose of consolation. rather in the exciting struf^^le of public life . was hardly so in . whether the . Christian as well as pagan. of virtue than in the special cultivation of any form and he did not even find the remedy for his present domestic sorrow in any of those general moral reflections which philosophy. lastly. The literary writing and completing the works which have been just mentioned probably did more to soothe his mind than all the arguments which they contained. DEATH OF sorrowful mood under his recent he??5^5reS?r''^ow men might learn to shake off the terrors of death nay. that he was . as he had done before.. as events happened. now —the ruling as Dictator at last cause. mental and bodily. He resumed Rome his practice as an advocate so far as to plead a cause before Caesar. is so ready to produce upon such occasions which are all so undeniable. Cicero's case. and all so utterly unen- durable to the mourner. He sought his own happiness afterwards. Cicero found his consolation. practice of virtue be not all-sufficient for our happiness. may best be borne how we may moderate our passions and. A philosopher does not always find in himself a It ready pupil. — . where most men of active minds like his seek for effort of it and find it — in hard work. His arguments were incontrovertible fail but he found them life. to look upon it rather as a release from pain and evil how pain.

^SAR. CICERO It AND C. who was life accused of having entertained designs against of Caesar while entertaining his palace. .74 ever to plead. him as a guest in The Dictator reserved his judgment until he should have made his campaign against the Parthians. —a the was a cause of no great importance defence of Deiotarus. the fatal " Ides of March " cut short Caesar's triumphs and his life. titulary king of Armenia. That more convenient season never came for : before the spring campaign could open.

That Cicero was among the actual conspirators is probably not true.CHAPTEE VI. farther than the actual conspirators. CICERO AND ANTONY."- — he writes to . fail to enHst our hearty Caesar. It remained for Cicero yet to take a part in one for himself. he Avent words at least . Xay. in it is curious to find " him so careful to disclaim com- plicity in the act. modern historians and sympathies with the assassins of That " con- secration of the dagger" to the cause of liberty has fruitful parent of too much evil ever since to make its use anything but hateful. and all the admiration poets. and was eager to been the claim all the honours of a tyrannicide. though his enemies strongly asserted it. Would that you that banquet on the Ides of March ! had invited me to there would then have been no leavings from the feast. But at least he gloried in the deed when done. But all the eloquence. more great national struggle the last for Kome and Xo doubt there was some grandeur in the cause which he once more so vigorously espoused — —the recovery of of the liberties of thunders of Cicero's Rome.

slaves carried Three they they took up the dead body of their master. He is wislies that " the gods may damn Caesar after he dead ." professing on this occasion a belief in a future retribution. and it home to his house. CICERO AND ANTONY. But when we read of them. sat of poor funeral-pile. re Cassiiis. and probably little to fear . they had only a humble duty to do. all this. was perhaps Eome's master a per- certainly not the worst of the many with whom sonal ambition took the place of princif>le.— . and he himself came to be denounced to political /The levity with which he continually speaks of the assassination of Caesar — a man who had never treated him. we return with a shudder of dis- gust to those " noble Romans " who occupy at this time tlie foreground of history. The bloody deed in the Capitol was done a deed — which was to turn out almost wliat Goethe called it " the most absurd that ever was committed. at any noble forbearance — his rate. and did it. on which at other times he was sceptical. had little to hope. It is but right to remember vengeance." deserted late to by the very men who had sought fittest of crown him. with anything but a which is a blot on Cicero's character warmest apologists admit. at events. as well as on Csesar." The great Dictator who lay there alone. . when the popular tide turned. a " bleeding piece of earth. and of that freednian who. Poor wretches ! knew nothing about liberty or the constitution . had their daggers turned on He would all liave Antony. not long by the dead body of Pompey till he could scrape together wreck from the shore to light some sort before.

but the tyranny survives." " We have struck down the tyrant. He professed himself hopeless of his life. in fact. had y taken the place of Cajsar as master of in all respects for the worse. . Rome was no longer any place for him.CICERO WITUDRA WS Caesar FROM ROME. amongst memoranda. and disgusted with political nnd spoke of going to end liis days at Athens. he Cicero had no power. as well as Man') also of this some smaller philosophical works which have been lost. — ' ' ' ' that on ' Divination. It was now that he wrote his charming essays on Friendship and on Old A^q^^ and completed his work On the Xature of the Gods." he writes to Atticus. Eome a change He had surrounded — himself with guards Senate to had obtained authority from the carry out all decrees and orders left by the . have been freed. and more particularly towards himself. and ^ried as before to find interest and consolation in philosophy. 77 had been removed. He wandered from place to place. late Dictator Caesar's and when he could not find. Antony knew his sentiments as to state matters generally. or of being able to guide himself the revolution which he hoped he had seen " begun. Cicero soon lost all hope of seeing in them the liberators of his countr}^. but it is plain that Brutus and Cassius and their party had neither the ability nor the energy to make any real use of their bloody triumph. We " but we are not free. and he soon left it this time a voluntary exile." Antony. . materials to serve his purpose. for did not hesitate to forge them.' and and might be in personal danger. country's future.' His treatise of ' De is Officiis ' (a kind of pagan 'Whole Duty date.

any time when he believed that she had need He was told that he was needed there of liberty that Antony was coming some kind with the party of Brutus. For a short while these latter days brought with them a gleam of triumph almost as bright as that spiracy. was But. And in to so far as his last days were spent in resisting to the utmost the basest of all Rome's bad men. Cicero had after purposely stayed really. traitor. Two days after his return. at Eonie. Political life felt really the only atmosphere in which he himself breathe vigor- ism. Cicero left It to his enemy make the fir^t attack. as before and ahvays. they were Thenceforth . soon came. now .78 CICERO AND ANTONY. there could it be no liberty fo" Eome. as they had done some thirteen years before. pleading fatigue his journey to him. . it was a fight to the death between him and Antony to so long Antony lived. that there was a prospect of matters going better for the cause to terms of — he returned. on his arrival at Eome. his heart was in the Forum ously. Unquestionably he had also an earnest patriotwhich would have drawn him back to his country's side at of his help. because such a proposition was odious a coward to pull Antony denounced him as and threatened to send men and a his down . and . crowds rushed meet him with compliments and congratulations. away. to him as greater than any triumph. Antony a resolution to spoke vehemently in the Senate against him. which had marked the overthrow of Catiline's conAgain. on the occasion of moving the effect that divine honours should be paid to Caesar.

brooding over his it was said. the first ' of those fourteen which are ' known seems to us as his first Philippics —a name which he jest. listened to me with much to kindness and And this privilege I will use so often as I to may own life without peril you and myself. what little span may yet be added to should be your Cicero spoke gain and the state's far more than my own. will re- main in evidence of my constancy in my duty. The speaker was not unconscious what possibly be. reaped fruit enough from my return home. For me." . the that I have lived seems already wellnigh long years or it enough. villa at Tibur. not so much for my sake as for the sake of my my country. own might " I have already. He defended his own conduct. whether I look at my honours . Cicero went him by his down to the Senate the following day. in that I have had the opportunity to sjDeak words which. and rebuilt for remorseful fellow-citizens. senators. in to have given to them in at remem- brance of those w^hich his favourite model Demosthenes had delivered Athens against Philip of Macedon. house about his head 79 — that house which had once before been pulled down. and there delivered a wellprepared speech. reviewed in strong but moderate terms the w^hole policy of Antony. I will be careful of myself. warned him his — and the still ostensibly as a friend — against fate of Caesar. from professors in the art .— THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. Antony was not in the house when he had gone down to his taking lessons. whatever may betide. There he rejjly remained for a fortnight. and you have attention. when I can- not.

but we know that it contained the old of rhetorical self-defence. the if not so alarming. as observes. of complicity with all. At last he came to Kome. when came. rest. Above he laughed at old attempts as a poet a mode of attack which. . eventually cost the orator his to life. charges of having put trial in Eoman citizens to death without the case of the abettors of Catiline. Before Cicero had nerved himself to put himself at Antony had left Rome the head of his legions. Cicero had been not merely a political opponent he had attacked his ])rivate character (which presented al)undant grounds for such attack) with of his eloquence. The reply. like Pompey of Milo. and of having instigated Milo to the assassination of Clodius. however. It is not difficult understand the bitter vindictiveness of Antony. and the two to it never met again. little There is also Antony had and if we may trust the Eoman poet Juvenal. all the the venom first He had said. who is at least as likely to have been well informed upon the subject as any modern historian. this composition doubt. Antony added Cicero's a new charge — that . indeed. that to Mr Long some friend kind enough send him a copy . was the terrible second Philippic never spoken. the murderers of Caesar. but only handed about in manuscript to admiring friends. had planted an armed guard of reply. in of .80 CICERO AND ANTONY. . —ho dreaded perat the trial sonal violence for Antony. his own men outside and inside the Senate-house. was at least as irritating as Cicero was not present . His speech has not reached us . and answered his opponent.

except perhaps its rhetorical power. §1 these powerful orations.*' If there had been any sort of reticence on this point hitherto on the part of Cicero. — I mean. his being angry to expect. I grant it it is a defence that speaks volumes for your feelings as a son. if I have only spoken in the my first opinion on public questions freely. Do you remember fault. It was your own shamelessness. you were a bankrupt? That my father's you will say." Then he proceeds " : Would you life like us. then. that he had never taken this line. that made you take your seat in the stalls of — honourable knights. ix. that before you put on the robe of w^as manhood. place. even when they have become so by fortune's fault. c.— THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. if this be too only as with a fellow-citizen. made up for it in Nothing can equal its bitter personality. I have no right to complain if he is my enemy but if T have only followed my usual custom. if we have to do battle again hereafter. F . and not their A. I . may come always fresh-armed to the an advantage which the multiplicity of that man's crimes and vices gives me in large measure. which I have life : " If I have abused his private ever maintained in public life. I protest against : — then. and character. however. vol. whereas by law there is a fixed place for bankrupts. He begins the attack by declaring that he he knows attack — "in Avill not tell all order that. to examine into your course of from boyhood ? I conclude you would. I with me at all demand that much he should be angry with me or. he this second speech.

Mark. so that this suffering nation may at last bring to . . " But do you look to yourself it — T will — I am tell you how I stands with me. I believe. though we must dash at once." The enemy. his subsewill trace as rapidly as I quent course of can. after saying a He even breaks off himself good deal. I I defended the Commonwealth when was young —I will not desert it now am old. but by calling them back to their remembrance . which I For though these things to are better you than even attention me. I shall lay my life down gladly. He still supposes himself addressing his He has warned Antony that Caesar's fate : may be his and he is not unconscious of the peril in which his own life may stand. lest we should be too long in getting to the end. . yet I ask you to hear known to me with — as indeed you do . some of his accusations when he had to lash a man whom he held to be a criminal. Nay.— 52 (jwn. I despised the swords of Catiline not likely to tremble before yours. then. which even a decent enemy hesitates to speak of. if the liberty of Rome can be secured by my death. life. in the orator's best style." not desirable to follow the orator through . mark your became the flaunting manhood. CICERO AND ANTONY. peroration is noble and dignified. " There are some things. into the middle of his history. — on It is You put on the robe which was to it your person gear of a harlot. . he did not much care where or how he struck. for it is right that in such cases men's feelings should be roused not merely by the knowledge of the facts.

g. with how much more truth.. whom Cicero now openly declared to be an enemy to the state. gentlemen of the Senate. master. I declared in this house that death could never be said to have come before its time to a man who had been consul of Eonie. the end of that which comes the sixth in eloquent enough.* twenty years ago. has long been breeding. indeed. that it now be we bore deferred an instant longer. when The question hangs now on * J. that at have Only two wishes I have. us. have had one fate. that as his con- duct towards the state may have deserved. . as I We say. for the dignity of the people of at least crisis is so ripe. one of our another befalls us now. "The time is come the at last. He The hurled against appeal at order is him Philippic after Philippic. fellow. give me no greater every citizen boon than this the may meet with such reward other. death now may ! To me well be a I thing to be even desired. choosing. its last issue. but too late.— the my death I may Eoman people free— the immortal gods can . calamity sent upon may by which If with— in such That this sort as it it might be borne. may when I say it indeed. one." The publication of this unspoken speech raised for the time an enthusiasm against Antony. at my age.THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. The struggle the making away with Antony. the birth that which it 83 If. is a crime in the sight of heaven. I have done what done and leave the reaped the honours I have reaped. will be own Eoman people should serve any the gods above have willed us to be the masters of the world. somecannot what Eome.citizens.

Cajsar. who at last.84 is CICERO for AND ANTONY. Intelligence soon arrived that Antony had been defeated at Mutina by the two last consuls of the Republic. There he maintained himself in defiance of the Senate. with such patriotism and such unanimity as I see here. like Catiline." Eome is Antony had left Eome. For the moment. declared him a public enemy. in his province of Cisalpine Gaul. but the birthright of the people of liberty. conquer. But it was in the height of the first exultation that Cicero aiklressed to the Senate his fourteenth Philippic —the last oration which he was ever to make. you must do. escorted him in triumph up as to the Capitol. the Comsafe again monwealth was —and Cicero almost thought it. who had ])aid him much personal was professing himself a patriot . Csesar Octavianus (great- nephew of Julius) offered his services to the state. The news was dashed. indeed. Young deference. Other nations may endure the yoke of slavery. to his own house. Crowds of roaring and back patriots had surrounded his house that morning. assuredly. Hirtius and Pansa. they had done in the days of his early glory. into the arms of his soldiers. — be slaves. afterwards by the further announcement that both consuls had died of their wounds. You must either our Komans. and with some hesitation they were accepted. The last struggle was begun. that he asain himself had saved . or you must endure anything and everything rather than — liberties. and thrown himself. and this. urged by Cicero. he found himself once more the fore- most man at Rome.

Rome to get money for their flight. interests private affections or were to be allowed to interfere with this If Lepidus would give up his merciless arrangement. 85 But Rome now belonged to those who had the and when Antony It had come to that legions. but premature in craft and falsehood who had come " to claim his inheritance. brother. the fate of the Eepublic and of Cicero was sealed. and the Triumvirate occupied Rome. whom Antony. that Antony. and. geance. we may be sure." as both Cicero and Antony boy in years as yet. It was on a little eyot formed by the river Eeno. and what they held to be necessary to the securing it for tlie future ISTo — the proscription of their several enemies. Octavianus made a cheaper sacrifice in Cicero. near Bologna. with those terrible Philippics ringing in his ears. and Lepidus (the nominal third in what is known as the Second Triumvirate) met to arrange among themselves the division of power. : succeeded in joining interests with Octavianus (afterwards miscalled Augustus)— "the boy.TEE TRIUMVIRATE." and succeeded in rousing in the called him — a — old veterans of his uncle the desire to take vengeance on his murderers. Antony would surrender an obnoxious uncle. But Quintus had to return to measures to escape. All was soon amicably settled the proscription-lists were made out. as it would fatal while they were . Cicero and his brother —whose name was it known to be also on the tof^ether at the Tusculan roll—heard of Both took immediate villa. demanded with an eager ven. young Csesar.

are. The accounts of these last unfortunately. tlie torture.86 CICERO AND ANTONY. the faithful adherents of a kind master. Urged by the prayers of and once more (Appian says. which it will be best here to . somewhat con- and none of the authorities to be entirely depended on Abeken has made a careful attempt to harmonise them. and refusing to give any information. He wandered about. He would in go to Eome. hours of his tradictory. said he. when he suddenly changed his mind. his slaves. and wait for death. His came forth from his and asked only to he put to death first. or. Either there. stab himself on the altar-hearth Caesar's house. which he never could endure) landed near Caieta. as other accounts say. he once more embarked. follow. The son assassins in his turn made the same request. but the son was seized. hiding-place. He had gone on board a small vessel with the intention of joining Brutus in Macedonia. young and call down the vengeance of heaven upon the life traitor. Cicero himself might yet have escaped. virate were sent to search the house the father had hid himself. but for some- thing of his old indecision. and insisted on being put on shore again. half-resolving (for the third time) on suicide. he laid himself " Let pass the night. " in down to me die. The emissaries of the Trium: appear. which I have so often . were so far merciful that they killed and the both at once. to fetch his son. from sea-sickness." my own country. where he had a seaside villa. was put to father heard his cries of agony. at his house at Formiae.

you understand or other of He turned from Lsenas to the centurion. They found his house shut up but some traitor showed them a short cut by which — . in his joy.<aeiiag^ named wbom he had once successfully defended on .DEATH OF saved. treating of the . though there were others of the baud the who great covered their eyes for pity. and tlie Eoman Jezebel spat in the face." CICERO. and hurried him down through the woods to the sea-shore for the assassins were in hot pursuit of him. a capital charge but he saw no gratitude or mercy in the face. and ran her bodkin through the tongue which had spoken those bold and bitter truths against her false husband. As he lay reading (it is said). if !" nius. old soldier. one Herensaid. to overtake the fugitive. even during these anxious moments. He sent the bloody trophy to his wife . 87 But again the faithful slaAcs aroused him. when they saw dishevelled grey hair and pale Eoman and (he worn features of the was within a month of sixty-four). The great orator fulfilled. the Avords which. The triumvir. your trade those At the third blow —by one evil officers. He looked out. a play of his favourite Euripides. whom he used to contained some maxim worth remember- the litter to he heard their steps approaching. where he sat They carried it straight to Antony. and ordered be set down. paid it some ten times over. every line of declare ing. for both claimed the honour — his head was severed. and reofficer cognised at the head of the party an J. and demanded the offered reward. on the seat of justice in the Forum. forced him into a litter. " Strike. almost dead in the very letter.

Crassus — " You must cut out this tongue. he had put into the month of if liberty of the pleader. speak there. you would breath- check my free speech nay. of the dead liberty of Rom& . even then.88 CICERO AND ANTONY. : my very ing should protest against your lust for power. was then nailed upon the more eloquently than ever the living lips had spoken. Rostra." head. The by Antony's to order.

It is a feeling natural to every man who knows hecome Atticus that his name and it acts must necessarily historical. from his own times down to found in present. it If is is more than usually patent usual access to the inmost in Cicero's case. in terms as extravagant as are to be both his the most passionate of his own orations.— a desire stand well not only with their own generation. "What will history say asks.VRACTER AS A POLITICIAN AND AN ORATOR. and. unbosoming himself thrice the six More than hundred years have passed. accusers and his champions have caught the trick of than his elohis rhetorical exaggeration more easily . heart of the writer such a thoroughly conpublished befidential correspondence has never been for surely fore or since. hut to with posterity. the lauded and abused. only because in his letters to we have more than .CHAPTER YII. in Cicero's case. is Cicero shared very largely in the feeling which common to all men of amhition and energy. CII. of me six hundred years hence T' he in this sort to his friend. hisHe has been tory has hardly yet made up its mind.

worthy indeed. degree with that Athenian who always hearing Aristides extolled as " the Just " and there to was certainly a strong temptation to holes in a man's character his lifetime critics pick who was perpetually. On one point some of his eulogists seem manifestly unfair. than the historian ness. to be canonised as a saint of the Catholic Church. and fears. Perhaps it is the partiality of the learned bishop's view which has produced a reaction in the minds of sceptical German scholars. but for the single drawback of his not having been a Christian. Dio Cassius. in those pleasant and comprehensive volumes which are as blind to his faults as still to this day the de- great storehouse of materials for Cicero's biography. his secret jealousies. and hopes. we form this — They say that the circumstances under which our judgment of the man are exceptional in that we happen to possess in his case all this letters mass of private and confidential nearly eight hundred of his (there are own which have come down to us). It is impossible not to sympathise in some Avas tired of . and . and of some modern writers of our livering a panegyric in tlie Eostra at own. Modern German critics like Drumann and Mommsen have attacked him with hardly less bitterthough with more decency. is though he were himself Rome. Bishop Middleton. during and for eighteen centuries after his death. on the other hand. CHARACTER AS A POLITICIAN. who lived so near his own times.90 quence. as Erasmus thought. giving us an insight into his private motives. having a trumpet sounded before him to announce him as the prince of patriots as well as philosophers .

to his wife. his amiability in all his domestic relations. We their cases as in his. or some judicious friend. or Brutus. The of writing history. that the}^ draw their real knowledge of many of those characteristics which they most admire his sincere love for his country." to use a modern could have had only a judicious selec- phrase that we tion from this too truthful mass of correspondence that his secretary. in of what seems insinstream . not so certain that characters we can into Cicero's but it is we coidd. his kindness of heart. had destroyed the whole packet of letters in which the great Roman bemoaned method himself.— . : man have been " cooked. that if we know too life. forget that it is It is quite true . CHARACTER AS A POL I TIC!AY. but we might also find an inner current of kindness. to his brother. tised. little credit. for which the world gives them siastic advocate. though often prachas seldom been so boldly professed. many traces might discover. but his advocates from the very same pages which reveal his weaknesses. of which in the case of other 91 men we have no such revelation. It is true tliat we cannot look into the private letters of Caesar. timidity. One enthuwish that Wieland. it But cannot be denied. ambitions. as if or Pompey. Tiro. in the case of such a as Cicero. and tenderness of heart. a desire to sail witli tlie we might find that the views which they expressed in public were not always those which they entertained in private . during his exile from Rome. of Cicero to judge him merely by his public much as we . partisan and to Atticus. goes so far as to this kind of evidence could. cerity. would be lowered. and benevolence. our estimate of their .

politician. are obliged to do with so also we know far too little of those stormy times in which he lived. so long as seemed possible (and this not so much from the desire of self-aggrandisement. to pronounce too strongly upon his behaviour circumstances. and even in his delightful letters the reader. led which clouded excites in feeling of his many him continually into false positions. It was a quality . The egotism which shows itself so plainly alike in his public speeches and in his private writings. He saw the right clearly. parties at in such difficult between the various careful student. but his good by a want of firmkeep well with men of all parties. He wanted manliness. may be have been wanting excellences.92 CHARACTER AS A POLITICIAN. from time to time. it is impossible to decide. There said to is one comprehensive quality which in his nature. The true relations Rome. like the times in which he lived. are confessedly puzzling And without ing of these. as from a hope through their aid to serve the commonwealth) laid him open on more than one occasion to the charge of insincerity. His desire it to it. and was necessarily in a great degree moulded by them. more than once made him personal enemies. and brought him into trouble. many heroes of history. though it was combined with great kind- ness of heart and consideration for others. with any hope Cicero's conduct as a patriot upon and a His character was full of conflicting ele- ments. and desired to follow intentions were too often frustrated ness and decision. as we have tried even to the a thorough understand- to sketch them. an impatient contempt. of fairness.

* many reasons. '' : he uses even stronger language The ballot. was perliaps but little missed in his character hy those of his contemporaries best. there is nothing like the open suffrage of the lips. But knowing * what was . however brilliant and amiable." he says. it gives ever they please." he writes to his brother." Mr Grote once quoted a phrase of Cicero's. with a cautious praise real esti- mate of it there can be no kind of doubt. The views which this great Roman politician held upon the vexed question of the ballot did not differ materially from those of his worthy grandfather before- mentioned. " I am of the same opinion now." So in one of his speeches. it who knew and loved him But without that quality. and to cover up them licence to promise whatasked. for some of them not the most creditable . Tahella. is hard to recognise in any man. applied to the voting-papers of his day. in his day. " that ever I was ." — —" 3. in his forensic . — to the characters of the voters and because but of his it Avas popular. the true philosopher or hero. speeches. and wholly untranslatable into anything like corresponding English Uhertatis" silence. The ballot was popular at Rome. and at the same time to do what- to open their . which was It fast 93 dying out. as a testimony in favour of this mode of secret suffrage grand words.— CHARACTER AS A POLITICIAN. among even the best of the luxurious and corrupt aristocracy of Rome. to an English mind. " enables men their thoughts ever they are faces. Cicero speaks of it occasionally. vinclex tacitce " the tablet wliich secures the liberty of so well as Cicero did See p.

Eoman jurors the ordinary character of voters. but "by the living The character of his eloquence may be understood in some degree by tlie few extracts which have been given from his public speeches . and in defence of Milo were written all . would have been agree- No Lust. as Ave against Verres know — those. it after all. that playful curve of irony which is said to have been their characteristic expression. and most of the others were reshaped and polished for publication. or likeness of Cicero. that to us is not so great as might seem. as was well pointed out by a ' writer in the Quarterly Review. we can only read Yet it the great orator instead of is listening to him. for instance.' t that in the very is next sentence the orator proud to boast that he office. less be such.94 CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR. himself was not so elected to voices" of his fellow-citizens. one and how often this "liberty of silence" liberty to take a bribe and to vote the other can almost fancy that we see upon his lips. too. but all are apocryphal. Rev. tliis loss j^ossible. always remembering lost how many of its charms are necessarily by losing the actual language in which his thoughts were clothed. as he utters the sounding phrase. which some of his Roman rivals found fault with as savourinc: too in the closet. coin. t Quart. Some of his best speeches. We have in that lost perhaps nearly as much in another way.* Mr Grote forgot. and Eoman was a way. . Ixi. gem is known which bears any genuine There are several existing which purport to more or 522.. and never spoken at — much of the florid Oriental * type. ^or is it certain that his declamation.

He tions has put on record his own ideas of the qualificaand the duties of the public speaker. There can be no doubt that we have his own views on this point in the words which he has put into the mouth of his " Brutus. 95 He looked upon gesture and action as essential elements of the orator's power. to excited action." is talking perhaps of the . " shuddered visibly over his whole body when he first began to speak. as we are told. who.HIS ORATORY. whether in the Senate or at the bar. to throw himself into it with a passionate should that there "know energy. He would have. as he warmed to his work.* His own highly nervous temperament would certainly tend The speaker. in three continuous treatises * Our speakers certainly fall into the other extreme. he says. examining sometimes the lining and sometimes the button. was a Roscius on the staire." was almost sure." He would have found a French audience in this respect more sympathetic than an English one." in the treatise on oratory which bears that name. and had studied them carefully from the artists of the theatre. in Addison's humorous sketch of a century ago "You may see many a smart rhetorician turning his hat in his hands. A deaf man would think that he still : British orator's style of gesticulation may was cheapening a beaver. mutatis mutandis. The be recognised. during the whole course of his harangue. too far off to hear. able to our colder English taste. when he fate of the British nation. would soon empty the benches of their occupants. He protests against the "Attic coldness" of style which. moulding it into several different cocks. the action and bearing of the speaker to be such that even the distant spectator.

that his we own experience which. I take upon myself. whicli he inscribed to his brother. as it was the attempt to reduce eloquence to a science. entitled respectively. ' on the subject. as has been already said. Brutus. bar.: 93 CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR. my opponent's. he puts mouth of Marcus Antonius. any more than the mere technical lawyer or keen partisan. as we probably may.' as well as in some other works of which we have only fragments remaining. perhaps remains the ablest. and bring forward whatever arguments he of. he appears to have attached but for his little value to a knowledge of the technicalities of law. while I make him liis own cause. " with variety and copiousness. ' On Oratory. and perfect orator should be. that so he may speak more freely. with as ferent characters much impartiality as I can. one of his greatest predecessors at the Roman case . can think Then. out of the fulness of his mind.' ' With and first. when he is gone. he it was himself exceedingly well still satisfied. " It is my habit to have every client explain to me be I personally his own to allow no one else to present. a true one . Then plead take the opponent's side. who can speak on all subjects. in his treatise into the on Oratory. three dif- —my own. is The second a critical sketch of the great orators of Eome and in the third we have Cicero's view of what the His ideal is a high one. the first of these works.' and The Orator." Although. if may assume. but the man of perfect education and perfect taste. that he should not be the mere rhetorician. in other respects his preparation work was of the most careful kind it is . and that of .

I reject and throw this. II. and that it say nothing which may injure your case. aside altofirst gether. real answer. I see that anything likely to it do good. relying on their abilities. — that I think over . Yet he did not scorn to use what may almost be called the tricks of his art. and in to when he meant make . the jury.RULES FOR THE PLEADER. iu C. O . sisters. — would be arranged. a pathetic appeal to the compassion of the jurors or a family group circumstances allowed."* He reads a useful lesson to young and zealous advosometimes it cates in the same treatise — that reply may be wise not to touch at all in makes against your client. if mother and able. 72. 24. the aged father. mourn- with hair dishevelled. 97 Whatever point seems it. Cicero would client stand by his side dressed in tears. voi. as with a British jury. likely to help the case rather than injure this I decide must be brought is when more harm than forward . So I gain to say. A maxim which some modern barristers (and some preachers also) might do well to bear in mind. or the present- would be introduced in open court to create He had tears apa sensation at the right moment. if he thought tliey would help to The outward and visible appeal secure him a verdict. as the wife and children. what and speak afterwards while a good many pleaders. ix. than to omit something which might possilily serve it. try to do I mean both at once. to the feelings seems to have been as effective in the upon a point which and to which you have no is even more important to Roman forum have his ing. * De Oratore.

and it was to sure to be highly relished is by mixed nudience. as it were. yhile I make the appeal " — weep " " I cannot go on for tears —he repeats towards the behalf of Milo close of that fine oration in — the speech that never was spoken. upon his brief. whether in political debate or in judicial j^leadings." But such were hfeld to be the legitimate adjuncts of Roman oratory. tears Nay. like more than one modern tragedian who could be named. the seem to have been marked down. ginal stage directions French whose manuscripts were found to have mar" Here take out your handkerchief . " My feelings prevent my saying more. entered so thoroughly into the spirit of the part that the tears flowed quite naturally." " here cry if possible. ter that It was not only jjrivate cliarac- he attacked. and it — : — is quite possible to conceive that the advocate. it There it no reason to suppose that Cicero had recourse any unusual degree . command as parently as ready at his an eloquent and well-known English Attorney-General. A far less legitimate weapon of oratory and not defensive was the bitter and coarse personality in which he so frequently indulged. Clodius. Its use was held perfectly lawful in the — — offensive Roman a forum." he "I declares in his defence of Publius Sylla. told of a Such phrases remind us of the story preacher. and most unscrupulously. as in the case of Antony and subject of bitter ridicule. and to direct the attention of the court to these . in but employ he did.98 CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR. or the wen on the defendant's neck. but even personal defects or peculiarities were made the He did not hesi- tate to season his harangue by a sarcasm on the cast in the prosecutor's eye.

to "saviour of Eome" might save it.U. Cicero was not of his attack the man to forget The beginning on Piso is lost. your your whole aspect. speech reflecting who had made a upon him. The most conspicuous is instance of this practice of his in the invective which he launched in the Senate against Piso. are the index to your soul. Mr Attorney-Geueral Coke's language . Cicero's unpopularity. Referring to Cicero's exile. notation of Cicero's poetry had not been Piso's only offence. He had been consul it at the time of the exile. he had made that sore subject doubly sore by declaring' that it was not it. and had given vent. which had been cause of " A jingling line of his to the effect that The gown wins grander triumphs than the sword " * had been thought to be pointed against the recent victories of Pompey. 99 points. in former times. " Beast " — is ! the term there is by no which Cicero addresses him."t * " Cedant arma togae. as though they were corroborative evidence of a moral deformity.'SE OF PERSONALITIES. so much as his tlie unfortunate propensity to bad verse. Your eyes. " Beast mistaking the evidence of that slave-like hue. Piso was of a swarthy complexion. face. the the time by his absence. but there is quite enough remaining. concedat laurea Hngiiae. bristly cheeks." + Such bar. tacit your brows. and to have provoked him to use But this anhis influence to get rid of the author. approaching probably to the negro type. those those discoloured fangs. witticism that the city a second may be remembered. even in the English law- courts. flowers of eloquence are not encouraged at the modeni But they were common enough.

within the compass of these pages. in his ' Lives of the Lord. to the white-livered shivering on the floor. p. to ." scoundrel that * Letter to G. to give even the briefest account of more than a few of the many causes (they are twenty -four in number) in which the speeches made by Cicero. on his great Roman predecessor.' tells us that a member — hag that is now is grinning in the gallery. attacking an opponent when he knew that his sister was present during tlie "from the toothless old debate. may be worth quoting " Argumentative contention is not what he excels in and he is never. have had such a real respect for authority as he and therefore when he speaks on that subject he is always natural and earnest. Some of them have more attraction for the English reader than others. 35. history of his own country. The opinion : of one who was no mean orator himself. so happy as when he has an opportunity of exhibiting a mixture of philosophy and pleasantry. denounced the whole family of Ireland. '*Thou viper!" comes quite np to Perhaps the Irish House of Parliament. indeed. Chancellors for Gal way. while it exfuruislied the choicest modern specimens of tliis style of — — oratory. Mr O'Flanagan. and especially when he can interpose anecdotes and references to the authority of the eminent characters in the . Wakefield— Correspondence. either for the prosecution or the defence." * to Raleigh at his trial Cicero's.— 100 CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR. Mr Fox had an intense admiration for the speech in defence of Cselius. have been preserved to us. either from the facts of the case being more interesting or more easily understood. No man appears. I think. . or from their affording more opportunity for the display of the speaker's powers. isted. It is not possible.

and bore as evil a re])utation as it was possible of for a woman which is saying a great deal. But the opening of The trial. the speech it is in the advocate's best style. the son of a man whom he had himself brought to trial for bribery. our courts of justice. aims the bitter shafts of his wit and eloquence at real Eome — to bear in the corrupt society Clodia. or . therefore. His brilliant invectives against this lady. She is the mover in the case. as he pointedly said. it when it Avas not usual to take any cause unless importance. the lady in question. and then to poison the lady who had lent him the — money Clodia. " not only noble but notorious. though another enemy of Cselius. them with was probably nntrue. gentlemen. who was a young man of " equesbeen a kind of ward of Cicero's. if the guardianship was anything more than nominal. who was.DEFENCE OF There is CJSLIUS. was the ostensible prosecutor. was the worthy sister of the to bribe — notorious Clodius. But in this particular case the accusation brought against him of trying to murder an ambassador from Egypt by means of hired assassins. throughout the whole of his speech." are not desirable to quote. and must have given him a good deal of trouble by his profligate habits. into which the defence of Caelius was obliged to enter. are not the for most edifying subject any readers. took place on a public holiday. Cicero. 101 anecdote and pleasantry enough in this . Cselius liad trian " rank. were of pressing " If any spectator be here present. who knows nothing of our laws. particular oration but the scandals of Roman society of that day. seems.

this single trial should be going on . The poison was given . when other business in the Forum is suspended. no treasonable attempt. cognisance of. they deserve neither exca^f© nor forbearance. he might take tinus . . especially regarded the alleged attempt to poison to a friend of Ctelius. the case for the prosecution. r. inquisition into the matter should be made at once. as to the other parties. but that a young man of brilliant abilities.. and was still prosecuting. and that all a bad woman's wealth and influence was being used against him. which formed the subject of this trial. Clodia. on the very day fault . was here accused by the son of a man whom he had himself once prosecuted. or levy war against find the commonwealth. the constitution itself would be in And if he heard that there was a law which enjoined that in the case of seditious and disloyal citizens who should take up arms to attack the Senate-house. that if it were not at once taken peril. : with such a law of the charge.RATOR. no violent outrage. and of popular character.4^nnge av-i story. I can excuse Atrat)j>up . our national customs. — he would not he would only ask the nature But when he heard that it M^as no such atrocious crime. hard-working in public life. of national festival all wonder what that on a day and public holiday like this. and he will entertain no doubt but that the accused is charged with a crime of such enormity." It was a .. he will not can be the atrocious nature of this case. or use violence against the magistrates.o exception to the filial zeal of Atra- but he ^^ould surely say that woman's infamous revenge shoulj be baffled and punished.— 102 CHARACTER AS POLITICIAy AXD fail to O.

and But the slaves certain and the lady employed gay and profligate young men. the . one. so hands 1 Were they him go out of many against they were. he was to give it 103 to some slaves of Clodia wliom he was to meet at certain baths frequented it. —the curtain was there trembling.DEFENCE OF COLICS. to But this had rushed from their place of concealment too soon. and the bearer of The counsel for the prisoner the poison escaped. which bore within its womb this band of invincible I would make heroes who went to war for a woman them answer this question.captain in ambuscade in the baths. of of the a burlesque when no more falls ! artistic solution plot can be invented. such stout champions against a single helpless fierce as man. when Licinius hesitating. the catastrophe of a stage-play —nay. Why. trying to lady's body-guard let afraid lest. retreating. it must rather have been a Trojan horse. by her. and where why. somewhere in the scheme was said and pounce upon failed. escape —why that and their For I ask why. to conceal themselves baths. who were hangers-on of her own. bosom-friends of this rich and noble lady those stout men-at-arms this who were posted by their she. Cselius's emissary with. they were in some way to administer betrayed the secret . the hero escapes. the bell rings. being so many bath^ ! — A — . why they. And I should like to 1 ask them how they hid themselves. frightened as he was and they could not master him to see ? I should like exceedingly them. have Clodia's detectives makes a great point of " this. those curled and scented youths. the poison in his possession. 'tis .


104

;

CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR.
so brave, did not either seize this slight stripling,

and

you see before you, where he stood, or overtake him when he fled 1 Tliey will hardly be able to explain themselves, I fancy,
if

whom

they get into that witness-

box, however clever and witty they

banquet,

— nay, even
different

may be

at

the

eloquent occasionally, no doubt,
air of a court of justice is
;

over their wine.

But the

somewhat

from that of the banquet-hall

the

benches of this court are not like the couches of a
supper-table
;

the array of this jury presents a

differ-

ent spectacle from a

company of
is

revellers

;

nay, the

broad glare of sunshine
glitter of the lamps.

harder to face than the
it,

If they venture into

I shall
fools'

have to
gear.

strip

them

of their pretty conceits

and

they will be ruled by me, they will betake themselves to another trade, win favour in another
But,
if

quarter, flaunt themselves elsewhere than in this court.

Let them carry their brave looks to their lady there
let

them

lord

it

at

her expense, cling to her,
;

lie

at her

only let them make no attempt upon the life and honour of an innocent man." The satellites of Clodia could scarcely have felt comfeet,

be her slaves

fortable

under this withering

fire

of sarcasm.

The

speaker concluded with an apology

— much

required

for his client's faults, as those of a

young man, and a
of an advocate
future.

promise on his behalf
that

— on the faith
a
as

he would behave better

for the
])t)iut

He

wound up the whole with
rhetoric

of sensational

which was common,
bar as
to

has been said, to
appeal
to

the

Roman

our

own

—an

the

jurymen

as fathers.

He

pointed to the aged father of

DEFENCE OF LIGARIUS.
tlie

105

defendant, leaning in the most approved attitude
tlie

upon
due
it is

shoulder of his son.

Either

this, or

the want

of evidence, or the eloquence of the pleader,
effect.

less,

had its was triumphantly acquitted ; and a proof that the young man was not wholly gracethat he rose afterwards to high public office, and
Ca^lius

never forgot his obligations to his eloquent counsel, to

whom

he continued a stanch friend. He must have had good abilities, for he was honoured with frequent letters from Cicero when the latter w^as governor of He kept up some of his extravagapt tastes ; Cilicia.

when he was ^dile (which involved the taking upon him the expense of certain gladiatorial and wildfor

beast exhibitions), he wrote to beg his friend to send

him out

of his province

some panthers

for his show.

Cicero complied with the request, and took the opportunity, so characteristic of him, of lauding his

own

adat

ministration of Cilicia, and

making

a kind of

pun

the same time.

" I have given orders to the hunters
;

to see about the panthers

but panthers are very scarce,

and the few there are complain, people say, that in the
whole province there are no traps laid for anybody but Catching and skinning the unfortunate for them."

which had been a favourite sport with governors like Yerres, had been quite done away with
provincials,

in Cilicia,

we

are to understand,

under Cicero's

rule.

His defence of Ligarius, w^ho

w^as

impeached of

trea-

son against the state in the person of Caesar, as having

borne arms against him in his African campaign, has
also

been deservedly admired.

There was some courage
j

in Cicero's undertaking his defence

as a

known

parti-

I

106

CHARACTER AS POLITICIAN AND ORATOR.

san of Pompey, he was treading on dangerous and
delicate ground.

Caesar

was dictator

at the time

;

and

the case seems to have been tried before
sole judicial authority,

him

as the

without pretence of the inter-

vention of anything like a jury.
fence
it

The defence

may

be called

if

de-

is

a remarkable instance of the

common

appeal, not to the merits of the case, but to

the feelings of the court.

After making out what case
it

he could for his client, the advocate as

were throws

up

his brief,

and

rests
it

Caesar

himself,
life,

upon the clemency of the judge. must be remembered, had begun
:

public

like Cicero, as a pleader

and, in the opin-

ion of some competent judges, such as Tacitus and
Quintilian,

had bid

fair to

be a close
causes,

rival.

" I have pleaded

many

Cassar

— some,

in-

deed, in association with yourself, while your public
career spared

you to the courts

yet used language of this sort,

has offended

:

think to do
did not do
is false
;

it

;

sirs, he he has made a false step he did not he never will again.' This is language
'
:

;

but surely I never

Pardon him,

Ave use to a father.
it
:

To the
is

court

it

must
it
:

be,

'

He

he never contemplated
fabricated.'

the evidence

the charge

If you tell

me you

sit

but as the judge of the foct in this

case, Caesar,

you ask me where and when he served against you, am silent I will not now dwell on the extenuating circumstances, which even before a judicial tribunal micrht
;

— —

if

have their weight.
but I

We take
am

this course before a judo-e,
'

am

here pleading to a father.
sorry
:

I have erred— I

have done wrong, I

I take refuge in your

clemency; I ask forgiveness for

my

fault

;

I pray you,

DEFENCE OF LIGARIUS.
pardon me.'
me,
sir,
. .

107

.

There
;

is

nothing so popular, believe

as kindness

of

all

your

many

virtues none

wins men's admiration and their love like mercy.
nothing do

In

men

reach so near the gods, as

when they

Fortune has and safety to mankind. can give given you nothing more glorious than the power, your own nature can s'liply nothinq more noble than the
life

will, to spare

and pardon wnerever you
it

can.

The

case

perhaps demands a longer advocacy
disposition feels

—your

gracious

too long already.

So I make an

end, preferring for

my

cause that you should argue

with your own heart, than that I or any other should I wdll urge nothing more than this, argue with you.

— the grace which you
The
by

shall extend to

my

client in his

absence, will be felt as a

boon by

all

here present."
visibly affected

great conqueror was,

it is said,

the appeal, and Ligarius was pardoned.

this Of his attempts in way we have only some here and imperfect fragments. Plutarch and the younger Pliny. thought highly of it. so it was his nature to tiling of most of his own perDaughter posterity — Miller's formances and such an estimate is common to other authors besides Cicero. his scattered there through other works. who had seen more of Cicero's poetry than we So he did himself. His poetical be unfairly measured by two lines which laughing and and which for that reason have become the best known. Cicero had always an ambition to be a poet. . too scanty to form ability is apt to any judgment upon. MINOR CHARACTERISTICS. 'Not content with his triumphs in prose. with openly. thougli few announce it so Montaigne takes him to task for this. but have. But it is obvious that if Wordsworth or Tennyson were to be judged solely by a line or two his opponents were very fond of quoting at.CHAPTER VIII. . picked out by an unfavourable reviewer ' — say * from Peter Bell' or from the early version of the ' would have a very mistaken appreciation of their merits.

"


:

CICERO AS A POET.
more
wit, perhaps,

109

than
;

fairness.

"It

is

no great

fault to write poor verses

but

it is

a fault not to be

able to see

how unworthy

such poor verses were of his

reputation."

Voltaire, on the other hand,

who was

perhaps as good a judge, thought there was "nothing

more beautiful" than some of the fragments of his poem on Marius,' who was the ideal hero of his
'

youth.

Perhaps the very fact, however, of none of his poems having been preserved, is some argument that such poetic gift as he had was rather facility than
genius.
'

He wrote, besides this poem on History of my Consulship,' and a History
'

'

Marius,' a

of my

Own

Times,' in verse, and some translations from Homer.

He had no notion of what other men called relaxation he found his own relaxation in a change of Avork. He
excuses himself in one of his orations for this strange
taste, as it

would seem
after all

to the indolent

and luxurious

Eoman
"

nobles with

whom
shall

he was so unequally yoked.

Who

blame me, or who has any
which
is

right to be angry with me, if the time

not

grudged to others for managing their private business,
for attending public

games and

festivals, for pleasures

of

any other kind,

and body,
this

—the

— nay, even

for very rest of

mind

time which others give to convivial resumption of

meetings, to the gaming-table, to the tennis-court,

much

T take for myself, for the
?

my

favourite studies

In this indefatigable appetite for work of

all

kinds,
as of

he reminds us of no modern politician so
Sir George CorneAvall

much

Lewis

;

yet he would not have-

altogether agreed with

him

in thinking that life

would

t

110

MINOR CHARACTERISTICS.
if it

be very tolerable

were not

for its ainiisemeuts.

He

was, as

we have

seen, of a naturally social disposi-

tion.

" I like a dinner-party," he says in a letter to

one of his friends, " where I can say just what comes
uppermost, and turn
laugh.

my sighs
as

and sorrows into a hearty

I doubt whether you are

much

better yourself,

when you can laugh

When

the

man

asked

you did even at a philosopher. Whether anybody wanted to
'

know anything]' you said you had been wanting to know all day when it would be dinner-time. The fellow expected you to say you wanted to know how many worlds there were, or something of that
kind."*

He

is

said to

have been a great laugher.

Indeed, he

confesses honestly that the sense of

powerful witli him

— "I

humour was very

am

wonderfully taken by

anything comic," he writes to one of his friends.

He

reckons humour also as a useful ally to the orator. " A happy jest or facetious turn is not only pleasant,

but also highly useful occasionally;" but he adds that
this
is

an accomplishment which must come naturally,

and cannot be taught under any possible system. There is at least sufficient evidence that he was much given to making jokes, and some of them which have come down to us would imply that a Boman audience
was not very
critical
all

on

this point.

There

is

an

air

of gravity about
*

courts of justice

which probably

offered to discuss

These professional philosophers, at literary dinner-parties, and answer any question propounded by the
Orat. 11. 54.

company.

t De

ruivs.

Ill

makes a very
relief.

faint

amount

of jocularity hailed as a

Even

in an English law-court, a joke from the

bar,

much more from

the bench, does not need to be

of any remarkable brilliancy in order to be secure of
raising a laugh;

and we may
at

fairly

suppose that the

Eome. Cicero's jokes were frequently nothing more than puns, which it would be impossible, even if it were worth while, to reproduce
same was the case
to an English ear.

Perhaps the
is

best, or at all events

the most intelligible, the
trial of Yerres.

his retort to Hortensius during
latter Avas said to

The

have feed

his counsel out of his Sicilian spoils

especially, there

was a figure of a sphinx, of some artistic value, which had found its way from the house of the ex-governor
into that of Hortensius.

Cicero was putting a witness

through a cross-examination of which his opponent
could not see the bearing,
this," said Hortensius
;

" I do not understand all
at solving rid-

"I am no hand
home."

dles."

"That

is

strange, too," rejoined Cicero,
at

"when
trial

you have a sphinx

In the same

he condescended, in the midst of that burning eloquence of which Ave have spoken, to make two puns on
the defendant's name.

The word
:

" Ven-es "

had two

meanings in the old Latin tongue
pig,"

it

signified a " boar-

and

also a

of Yerres's friends,

"broom" or "sweeping-brush." One who eitlier was or had the reputahad
"

tion of being a Jew,

tried to get the

management
"

of the prosecution out of Cicero's hands.
a

What

has

Jew

to do with j^ork

?

asked the

orator.

Speaking,

in the course of the

same

the governor had

made

trial, of the Avay in which " requisitions " of all the most

112

MINOR CHARACTERISTICS.

valuable works of art throiigliout the island, " the broom,'' saiil he, " swept clean." He did not disdain
the comic element in poetry more than in prose; for we find in Quintilian * a quotation from a punning

epigram in some collection of such
time bore Cicero's name.
Tiro
is

trifles

which in

his

said to

have collected

and publislied three volumes of his master's good death ; but if they were not better than those which have coaie down to us, as contained in his
tilings after his

other writings, there has been no great loss to literature
in Tiro's
'

Cicerouiana.'

He knew

one secret at least
:

of a successful

humourist in
the
first

society

for

it

is

to

him

that

we owe
is

authoritative enunciation of

a rule which

universally admitted
efiect as

— " that

a jest

never has so good an

when

it is

uttered with

a serious countenance."

Cicero had a wonderful admiration for the Greeks.
" I

am

not ashamed to

confess,"

he writes

to

his

and career have been such that no suspicion of indolence or want of energy can rest uptm me, that all my own attainments are due
to those studies

brother, " especially since

my life

and those accomplishments which have
It

been handed down to us in the literary treasures and
the philosophical systems of the Greeks."

was no
of

mere

rhetorical

outburst,

when

in

his

defence

Valerius Flaccus, accused like Verres, whether truly or
falsely, of corrupt

administration in his province, he

thus introduced the deputation from Athens and Lace-

dsemon who aj^peared
his client.
*
'

as witnesses to the character of

Libellus Jocularis,' Quint,

viii. 6.

Lend me your evidence. when his object was to discredit the accusers of his client. vol. * Defence of Yal. to fluent oratory any other high qualities they may claim I make no but the sacred obligation that lies upon a objection witness to speak the truth is what that nation has : never regarded." implying " and you shall — c. their nurse. that she is said to have bred lier citizens within whose exceeding beauty. A. ix. that they were a nation of liars. There were excellent men among them. public law and jusdis- had their birth. that in the very same speech. as an orator is allowed to forget. though hei-self. : it has lost place much of its weight and power. and their country whose importance and influence is such that the name of Greece. he went on to say. on account of its which is of such angods are said to have contended tiquity. religion. I do not deny them elegance in conversation. . C. perhaps. he allowed — thinking at the moment of the counter-evidence which he had ready for the defendant but he goes on to make grant this sweeping declaration : " I will say this of the whole race of the Greeks : I them literary genius.— — ESTIMATE OF THE GREEKS. amongst tion. Fla:cns. tice. even : and the same soil is termed at once their mother. all and whence they have been the world : seminated over for the possession of city. he had said. still holds its by virtue of the renown of this single city. what was very commonly said of the Greeks at Eome. learning. 4. 113 civilisa- whom agriculture. " Athenians are here to-day." * " There was a certain proverb. H . I grant them skill in vari- ous accomplishments. acuteness of intellect." He had forgotten.

whom. mosthenes. as Disraeli to Atticus might lead us to suspect concludes. The appreciation of his own powers which every able man has. "What I have attempted. achieved.114 • . What he loved in the Greeks. literature and the charm of their social qualities (a strict regard for truth last) . " but which I never to exist in own inmost mind. Mi:f^*VHARACTERISTICS. a condescension which some of his friends thought derogatory to the dignity of a Eoman. have mine when you want ." a was rather the grandeur of their is. knew any man. most intense reverence for the Athenian Deorator as a master in his art." he calls him in one place. he imitated and wellnigh worshipped." he says. fades into humility when he comes to speak of his great model. unhappily. for on one occasion he made a speech in that language. " Absolutely perfect. but it seems to have spoken fluency. it Greek proverb. Some passages in his letters that. perhaps. and again in an- other." Yet he when the fervour of genius was strong within him. How far his taste difficult for was really cultivated in this respect is us to judge. The his of all by was influenced. that there was an ideal of eloquence enshrined in his " which I can feel. of course. Demosthenes has felt also at times. then. and of which Cicero had at least his share. he was rather a collector than a real lover . and men knew these three words of Greek who knew no Greek besides." with considerable ease and He could not only write Greek as a scholar. no indispensable ingredient in this for their national he had no respect whatever character. From the Greeks he learnt to appreciate art.

or. and always in language which im})lies an appreciation of the artist. which this friend had just bought for him. he talks about the works with considerable enthusiasm. in order to combine their several points of perfection in his portrait of he refers more than once. the selection which he made from Helen the beauties of Crotona. and he dis- cusses. Polygnotus. had cost more than he would were made. especially that Avhich is said to have cost him his life — the shield of Minerva is . like an able advoBut the cate.. earlier and Polycletus. other friend. when he comes several with Yerres's Avholesale plunder of paintings and statues in Sicily. the artist-world of He tells us. and Timanthes. as compared with the more finished schools of Protogenes and Apelles. and in the paintings of the schools of Zeuxis. and his surrender of himself judgment in such purchases. the comparative points of merit in the statues of Calaniis. Either he reaUy understood his subject. and the all own admirable style. to deal statues that ever On the other hand. art-notices which are scattered through his works show a considerable acquaintance with his day. do In a letter to annot hespeak a highly critical taste. though it but by way of illustration. • i' 115 for His appeals to his friend to buy up him everything and anything. he had thoroughly got up his brief. GREJ::i^3^T. and he complains that four figures of care to give for all the Bacchanals. with their four primitive colours. and ]\Iyron. . he seems to say that he only bought entirely to Atticus's statuary as " furniture " for the gymnasium at his country-seat. LOV£ OF of art. in his story of Zeuxis.. to the works of Phidias.

are existed. during the service of his meals. "We find him writing energy and activity. His correspondents were of almost position great all varieties of and character. the historian. Hirtius. and dictating them to an amanuensis as he walked up and down to take needful exercise. Cornelius Nepos * Collections of his letters to Ctesar. the men of the day.CHAPTER CICERO S IX. ATTICUS. and to his son. down to his domestic servant Brutus. CORRESPONDENCE.* to say many which may never have The secret lay in his "been thought worth preserving. to keep up such a voluminous like eight Something us. known to have . wonderful of nothing of the very letters before day - break. in the midst of Cicero found time correspondence. I. hundred of his remain to and there were whole volumes them long preserved which are now lost. on his journeys. letters still all his work. Pansa. from Cccsar and Pompey. It seems wonderful how.

and the correspondence only ceased with Cicero's death. and historian Caius Asinius Hirtius — — Pollio. eager patriots like Brutus and Cassius. but furnishing us latter with items of intelligence which throw hght. Sometimes he jots down the mere of his last dinner-party. said. authors such as Cornelius Nepos and Lucceius the historians. for the was as yet unknoAvn. w^as his life.AT TIC us. Sometimes he it sends to his correspondent what was in fact a political journal of the day —rather one-sided. His chief correspondent. men who dabbled with literature in a gentleman-like way. Viirro the grammarian. Cicero's versatile powers found no difficulty in suiting the contents of his tastes own letters to the various and interests of his friends. The . with a few occasional interruptions. as has been old school-fellow and constant friend through The letters addressed to him Pomponius Atticus. and men of pleasure like Cselius : grave Stoics like Cato. like and Appius. which still remain to us cover a period of twenty-four years. as nothing else can. Amongst were rich and ease-loving Epicureans like Atticus and Psetus. as all political journals are. orator. or discusses with a literary friend some philological ques- tion —the latter being a study in which he was very little fond of dabbUng. and the accomplished literary critic and patron of the day himself of no mean reputation as poet. and jNIetius the poet . though with science of language success. sometimes he notices the speculations of the last new theorist in philosophy. and even secretary. Tiro. on the history of those days of the gossip Ee public. must be con- fessed. 117 tliem.

with Greek quotations and phrases. though he had deliberately with- drawn himself from the distracting factions of his native city. as affording a glimpse behind the scenes in those mo- mentous days when no one knew exactly whether the . Cicero would despatch one of (for these letters to Atticus daily. which he seldom revisited. even to the point of affectation. without forswearing his national and sympathies. Cicero's letters were to him wliat an English newspaper would be now to an English gentleman who interests for his own reasons preferred to reside in Paris. They are continually gar- nished. already dictator. We have nearly four hundred of them in all.118 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. Athenianised Roman. and handy like when messengers were we have to remember that there was nothing our modern post). partly perhaps in compliment to his friend's writer's Athenian tastes. At times. —that One it may be give in this j)lace two or three of the shorter as speci- mens of the collection. though merely in the character of a looker-on. and seems to have taken a very lively interest. when Cicero was more at leisure. interesting. is which he received from Julius in his country-house near Puteoli. has been made them through- out the previous biographical sketch. wliich describes a visit Caesar. — for they supply sufficient to us with some of the most important materials for Cicero's life and times. kept on the best terms with the leaders of all parties. and partly from the to own passion So much reference for the language. in the political events which crowded so fast upon each other during the fifty years of his voluntary expatriation.

I suppose. and even was close to Cicero's villa. His : suite were abundantly supplied other tables * This the freedmen of lower rank. " To think that I should have had such a tremen- But never mind for all went off very pleasantly. After see no one. great captain 119 was to turn out a patriot or a conspirator against the liberties of Rome. "We had. the place was so fuU of soldiers that they could hardly dous visitor ! . with Balbus. But when he arrived at Philippus's house* on the evening of the second day of the Saturnalia. and therefore ate and drank heartily and unrestrainedly. and would Going over accounts. find a spare table for Caesar himself to dine at. —he supplied me with and stayed with Philippus They pitched their tents in the grounds. the house was protected. I assure you. Then he walked on the sea-shore.: ATTICUS. on the coast. but * The feast of reason and the flow of soul 'J at three besides. is fairly equiva- . two he had a bath: then he listened to some verses on Mamurra.t and sat down to dinner. X The verse which Cicero quotes from Lucilius lent to this. There but were two thousand men. "he got himself oiled. without moving a muscle of his countenance then dressed. my aid. and well served and not only that. He had taken a precautionary emetic." The emetic was a disgusting practice of Roman hoii vivants who were afraid of indigestion. very good dinner. He until one o'clock on the third day of the Saturnalia. a . t Literally. Eeally I was in a state of : perplexity as to what was to be done next day Barba Cassius came to a guard.

he friend. but a good deal of literary talk. about (especially to assure Not that I have much to write when you are all but here). the slaves." is In the following. * have written this in bring all As soon as ever . take us in your is way on In return. were well taken care The higher ' class had really an elegant entertainment. and would not let them go without a letter from me. you arrive. longer.' he is whom you Now do. or rather quartering of troops which I a little disliked the thoughts upon me. no need to flesh make would your a long story . . Well. gave me no annoyance. before daylight. your Probably by way of salute or possibly as a precaution. anticipating a visit from his to and from the lady whom he is betrothed- " I had a delightful Italy. Therefore see me. and another this visit. short. he seemed to be much pleased. visit from Cincius on the 30th of January. say — Still ' we found we were both not the kind of guest to and blood.* of his horse. to show your own affection.' Once enough. When Csesar passed Dolabella's villa. a hurry. were in me£*3engers to For he told me that you and that he was going to send off some you. then go to my left house at Tusculum. of. Other matters when we meet. at Bai^e. He said he should stay one day at Puteoli. himself. but which really. and to what I affection I bear you. as I shall stay here I have said. pray. which I heard that from Nicias. We had no conversaand to enjoy tion on business. except I you that am anticipating your arrival with fly to the greatest delight. So here you have an account of of. all the troops formed up on the right and they did nowhere else.120 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE.

And I should you could send me a couple of your Tyrrannio could make use of as whom binders. PiETUS. I believe you Greeks call them." The Eoman gentleman tastes. fair. . you last might have cleared your expenses public shows. of elegant and accomplished is keeping a troop of private gladiators. yourself. are You will see how AvonderfuUy well Tyr- rannio has arranged my books.PJ^TUS. home at and taken Httle part in the political tumults of . the remains of which much better than I if be very glad library clerks had thought. a curious combination of character tially but the taste was not essenprize-ring more brutal than the and the cock- fights of the last century. for that but and Tullia wishes it much. you can make any stay is and bring Pilia with you. If Upon my word you have bought I hear that your gladiators fight to hire a very fine place. people to 121 my house. be sure you come in our parts. II. at any rate. you had cared them out. But this only if quite convenient to you. You will gratify me very much by coming. to bring and to help him in other to ways . if But. you love me. at these two Be if sure to come But we and do your best about the : can talk about this hereafter. and think- ing of hiring them out. and tell them some parchment make indices — syllabuses. clerks. capitally. Another of Cicero's favourite correspondents was Papirius Paetus^who seems to have lived at ease. to our notions.

his son-in-law. . friends staying with Cicero had had some him says. Better be victimised by your friend than by your debtors. about a dinner of Phamea's late affair as if — well. as you have been. One expense I really shall put you to. lie was an Epicurean. but it is of use. to whom. the They are my and I am theirs in dinnereating for I conclude you have heard (you seem to hear everything) that they come to me to declaim. I remember your telling other me . he in oratory. and life thought more of the pleasures of than of its cares and duties. . I must . pray. at his country-seat at Tus- culum. appetite. I can stand even that. . My new reputation for good living has reached you. before it . nor so grand in nay. I . only handsomely served and well cooked. and Hirtius. Like Atticus. scholars in declamation. fashion as I am used to. After all. put trust in your ante-courses I used to spoil oil — my have given up that altogether. you persist in giving me one of your mother's old family dinners. remember. in his society. . and you are alarmed at but. were among them. it need not be such a res2:)ects that. quet as leaves a great waste behind a little will do. to swear that you cannot entertain me in such grand future consul. I find. . he had been giving lessons •' Dolabella. day. I don't require such a banit . Some of them throw a pleasant light upon the social habits of the day. . and 'Tis all very well for you I go to them for dinners. upon your and sliced sausages. my no arrival. Yet Cicero evidently took great pleasure and his letters to him are written in the to his old school- same familiar and genial tone as those fellow.I 122 his CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE.

I quite as appreciative a listener as Balbus . the rest is are quite unaltered all joke. You seem to insinuate that when i^randees are so moderate.'^ of fare to the " I [Stoic that used to be] have gone over with my will whole forces into the camp of Epicurus. So much. and he had been content with such humble fare as he feared Cicero might despise. Cicero regrets that he has been unable as yet to pay his threatened visit. when his friend would have seen bill what advances he had made in gastronomic science. Balbus. If this referred to the shall charms of your conversation. . One of Cicero's puns. How did you He swore he had get on with our friend Psetus % ' ' never been better entertained.P^TUS. have 123 my warm hath. I see. " Satirical as ever. IMy other hahits. I must beg you you do men of eloquence worse than a * Lisper. The very first words I said to him were. know that I fished it all out of your visitor himself. You say Balbus was content with very modest fare. he says. much more ought You don't a poor ex-consul like myself so to be. for he came straight to my house on his landing. be but if it meant the good things on the will not treat us table.' " * They carry on this banter through several letters. You Balbus means ' Lisper. — " from the eggs * He was able now to eat through the whole roti." Psetus seems to answer him with the same goodhumoured badinage. had been to see him. at least. I assure you. remember. we may gather from Cicero's answer. the governor of Africa.* .

little plain dinners ' and makeshifts of art." Such were the playful epistles of a busy man. and forget to give your own little dinners. and have my dinner suppose your cook has not got the gout as well. . you lest were still not much of a proficient in that way. again." Then he gout. as I am quite determined to come. how can I supjDOse you will get on now 1 Spurina. have to do with a what's what. am extremely sorry to hear it.124 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. is in bed with the bound. and Camillas (what elegant and fastidious gentlemen they are !). that we have been venturing your friends Verrius more than once. when you had good examples to imitate. Then. and pay I my visit. as man who can eat. But even in some of these lightest effusions we see the Here is a cares of the statesman showing through. in duty that I may : you. see for "I still. You will have to ' unlearn those yours. portion of a later letter to the same friend. indeed. — yes. For if formerly. I am afraid — — for it is as well to speak honestly you should unlearn certain old habits of yours. " I am very much concerned to hear you have given up going out to dinner for it is depriving yourself of a great source of enjoyment and gratification. . and who knows You know how conceited we late the proverb says. We have made such advances in the to invite. learners are. But see how audaI have even given Hirtius a cious we are getting ! dinner tate — but without a peacock. My cook could imi- nothing in his entertainments except the hot hears that his friend soup.

125 when I mentioned the thing to him. that because I write jestingly I have thro^vni off all anxiety about public Be assured. on the side of the as his wealth elder.|' HIS BROTHER QUINTUS. I advise you. him rather to confer than to receive kindnesses the rule in such cases being (so cynical philosoi:)hers tell us) that the affection is lessened rather than increased by the feeling of obligation. See how employ philo- sophy to reconcile you to dinner-parties. perhaps. but safe how my country may be kejit and free. lake as care and that you . ant fellows." III. joking apart. you love me. = are fond of you. and explained tliat your previous hahits. that I seek nothing and care for nothing. . his Between !Marcus Cicero and tion younger brother affec- Quintus there existed a very sincere and cordial —somewhat inasmuch warmer. to associate with good fellows. will best do by going out to dinner. There is nothing better worth having in life nothing that makes I more happy. . HIS BROTHER QUINTUS. He almost adopted the . night or day. my • dear Ptetus. I omit no opportunity of advising. But don't imagine. securing this I have to lay my down my heart that life. affairs. life. if in I shall have ended it well and honourablv. . I feel in planning. and position enabled . and men who . proved to demonstration state if there woukl be danger to the highest interests of the you did not return to your old ways in the Eut indeed. and pleasspring. my good Partus. of your health . or acting.

and had him educated with his earlier own son . however. would write to : brought against ships. Quintus Cicero to his brother after the battle of Pharsalia. who was an excellent scholar.— 126 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. making what seem to have been very unjust accusations against him in order to pay court to Caesar . are even now . town or Here now is a letter from you full of pleascountry. and training together in one or other of — less usual amongst his countrymen. and the two cousins received their Marcus Cicero's country-houses under a clever Greek freedman what was of his. his nephew. which go far to vindicate the character from a chai-ge Roman which has sometimes been probably. but they soon became friends again. younger Quiutus. Cicero himself. and talk to me and at me for what can give me more pleasure ? I swear that no muse-stricken rhymester ever reads his own last poem with more delight than I do what you write to me about matters public or private. unless Cicero's estimate of them does them great injustice —a very honest man. terribly passionate. that you have been afraid —nay. ant matter. and re-bother me. but with this dash of the disagreeable in it. Twenty-nine of the elder Cicero's letters to his brother remain. as the two boys complained. each other in such terms as these " Afraid lest your letters bother me ? I wish you would bother me. his Greek studies fully behaved ill qualified him. . written in terms of remarkable kindness and affection. was the head office tutor —an for which. as he modestly writes. it of coldness in these family relation- Few modern brothers. but.

I may be troublesome to you. : some notices of the to which the towards the end of his get makes I this allusion "How Britain ! delighted I was to your letter from had been afraid of the voyage across. the pathetic apology which he makes for having avoided an interview with Quintus in those hrst days of his exile when he was so thoroughly : unmanned " My brother. it is . with you about if that were not a But if I have reason to suspect anything of that sort again." Or take. when we are together. The to de- other dangers of such a campaign I do not spise. pleasantest of com- To me you have always been the panions. I see vou have a but in these there . think that I was unwilling to see you you ? Could I possibly be angry with you I miss you. When not a brother only that I miss. and seems to have written home to country reply. my brother. . and I have been rather anxiously expecting the result than in any real alarm about it. . because letter to I sent off the slaves without any you ? And 1 did you even I angry with ? . a father in counsel. again. or you with- me?" Quintus had accompanied Caesar on his expedition into Britain as one of his lieutenants. my brother ! Did you really fear that I was angry. I can only say that I shall always be afraid lest. What out pleasure ever had I without you. afraid of the rock-bound coast of the island. I could quarrel sin. it. his brother latter. 127 afraid — of being troublesome to me. mean is more to hope than to fear. a son in dutiful affection.— — HIS BROTHER QUINTUS.

or at least he was polite tity. was never carried out. which seems once to have been contemplated. if not in quality. as well as his brother —nay. either the Britons of those days did not. and perhaps that which does him most credit both as a man and a statesman. — ' paint with your colours and my own pencil. Quintus was a poet. what natural curiosities and remarkable what what a campaign. in the latter's estimation. the younger must have rival. I will and what a commander you have to describe willingly help you in the points you request and I will send you the verses you ask for though it is sending an owl to Athens. deed. places. it is much more than a letter .' . One of the most remarkable of all Cicero's letters. is one which he wrote to his Inbrother. It is full of sound practical * A Greek proverb. some other reason this joint literary undertaking. equivalent to our 'coals to Newcastle. it is rather a gi^ave and carefully weighed pajDer of instructions on the duties of such a position. " Only give me Britain to strange tribes and strange customs." In another letter he says.' * I know. for been a formidable one of these he wrote. four tragedies in fifteen days possibly translations only from the Greek. ! . capital subject to write about. a better poet. at enough to say so more than once.— 128 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCJS. and we have missed what would beyond doubt have been a highly interesting volume of Sketches in Britain by the brothers Cicero. after seem or for to afford sufficient interest for poem or history. In quanleast. who was at the time governor of Asia. What novel scenery. as appears from letters." But all.

w^ho. How His Quintus had been playing is not quite clear. partly of true Asiatics. after murdering most of his had named the Roman people as his heirs. and had come under the dominion of Rome. the descendants of the old colonists. them bankers in and money-lenders. the last the abuse of power to selfish purposes. latter — the ' Publicani. assumes that he A. sense. consisting own relations.' as they w^ere termed —might prove very dangerous enemies to any too zealous reformer.ON THE DUTIES OF A GOVERyOR. and partly of Asiatic Greeks. and speculators who farmed the imperial taxes. but by way of legacy from Attains. officials. sented the greatest temptations and the greatest ities for facil- Though kingdom of Pergamus. I had . and the grasping injustice of the he had a very difficult it Roman part to play. consisted only of the late of its kings . ix. The seat of government was at Ephesus. brother. the proverbial lying of the Greeks. If the Roman governor there really wished to do his duty. c. vol. and were by no means scrupulous These the matter of fleecing the provincials. and which prethe conduct of Roman governors abroad. and containing also a large Roman element —merchants many of who were there for purposes of trade. The population was of a very mixed character. not by conquest. in this admirable letter. what with the combined servility and double- dealing of the Orientals. it called Asia. as was the case with most of the provinces. 129 and lofty principles of statesmanship —very different from the principles which too commonly ruled The province which had fallen to the lot of Quintus Cicero was one of the richest belonging to the Empire.

nor painting. that none should be im- poverished by your requisitions. For even the Greeks. For it is a glorious thing for a now man to such art have held a government for three years in Asia. in sort that neither statue. none terrified at the news of your approach Avith you. I cannot fancy there will be any danger of your not being able to check a dishonest merchant or an extortionate col- le/ctor. and urges him to maintain the same " course. come you so to act. as I am sure you do. but that down into their province. brought rejoicings. all So long as you can but keep a check upon you resist gain. when they thus. nor any temptations of wealth or beauty which temptations your province abounds) could draw you from the strictest integrity and self-control (in all that your official progresses should have been no cause of dread to the inhabitants. " But in these points. not to urge you may and congratulate heretofore. — saw in you a protector and not a tyrant every family received you as a guest.: 130 done all CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. yourself upon having so acted. nor work of of any kind. " I write thus. if all needed But the advice would hardly have heen had gone well hitherto. will look upon you as see you living some hero from their old annals. inasmuch as every town . and other temptations. yourself. but that you should have wherever you came. and pleasure. not as a plunderer. or some supernatural being from heaven. that was right. if You will find little trouble in holding your subor- dinates in check. it is not enough for you to have these . as experience has — by this time taught you. the most hearty public and private.

or criticise too strictly every one of your officers. but rather place trust in each in pro- portion as you feel confidence in his integrity. not the instrument of other men's wills. to our fellow-citizens.ON THE DUTIES OF A GOVERNOR. it For I do not think well. subjects. Your offi- though cers should be the agents of your clemency. official seal common but as were yourself . abuse for his intrusted own gain the power with which you have him to maintain the dignity of his office. '* For those whom the state has assigned you as com- panions and assistants in public business. . should be not as a mere it Your tool. discharges his you duty alone. " Your ears should be supposed to hear only what you publicly listen to. you will be held responsible not only for they do. but 131 you must look to it carefully. not to be open to every secret and all false whisper for the sake of private gain.ourself. that you should closely every abuse. you are answerable only within the limits I have just laid for those down but . but the evidence of your own. but for all they say. not of their caprice j own and the rods and axes which they bear . that in this guardianship of the province not but every officer under you. especially since the cus- toms of official life incline so much of late to laxity scrutinise too and corrupt influence. you may venture to be^r with him so long as he merely neglects the rules by which he ought to be personally bound never so far as to allow him to If . . and to the state. whom you have chosen to associate with private establishment and yourself as members of your personal suite. to our . any of your subordinates seem grasping for his own interest. virtues y.

You may safely use the utmost strictness in the administration it is not capricious or partial. not merely of feel your power. that who pretend to have influence of this after all. then. becoming behaviour ou the part of all aljout you a very careful and circumspect selection of your intimates. as the man who But no one those will offer bribes. all reputation. Such a line of conduct and such rules will alone enable you to uphold that severity in your decisions and decrees which you have employed in some cases. and by which we have incurred (and I cannot regret it) the jealousy of certain interested of justice. maintained at the same level for little Yet it will be of carefully use that your own decisions be just and . man to comes much your enemy who gives your knowledge. integrity and self-control on your own part . so long as parties. whether Greeks or provincials . if this be once made any clear. . . it becomes wellnigh godlike in a govern- ment of such extent. • • • • • • •• • — first. the families. and the over whom you rule.132 CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. be the foundations of your dignity. fortunes of whole province should tlie that the persons. in a state of morals so depraved. For if such conduct befits us in our private and everyday relations. . but all. and in a province which presents so many temptations. "Let such. a . favour for others at your hands. are held by you very precious. to gain kind with you have no power. the dignity. a grave and firm disci- pline maintained throughout your household. Let as it be well understood that you will a bribe. sliould be the emblems of your In short. receives hold that if it it.

so many means of help. same course be pursued by all to any portion of your judicial authoyou delegate Such firmness and dignity must be employed not only be above partiality. . such unbridled freedom. justice should be tempered with at "If such moderation be popular there so is Eome. a province where all that vast number of our fellow-citizens and subjects." IV. where so much self-assertion.TIRO. but above the it. no Senate. his letters to Tiro supply the most convincing evidence of his natural . all those numerous states and cities. so to behave himself in the exercise of that absolute power. where there are men courts of appeal open. calmness in deciding. how grateful beyond measure will much many licence allowed to all — moderation be in the governor of Asia. as may suspicion of To this must be added readiness to give audience. weighed." Yet he advises that leniency. and one noble by nature and trained by education and one man's nod ! liberal studies. Of all Cicero's coiTespondence. so where the people have so much power and the Senate so much authority. Wherefore it should be the aim of a great man. no remedy at law. care in weighing the merits of the case and in satisfying the claims of the parties. unless tlie 133 whom rity. hang upon where there is no appeal to the tribune. TIRO. as that they over whom he presides should never have cause to wish for any authority other than his. no popular assembly.

and indeed in some sort as a domestic critic. Rome as soon as pos- sible. Cilicia. master and the friend of the whole family. the trusted agent of his the service. The triumph for the victory gained under his nominal com- mand over the hill-tribes in Cilicia. kindness of heart. and obliged to be left behind at Patrse. like Eliezer in the household of Abraham. that province . seemed to be your wish not to make the voyage until your health was restored. He had accompanied him to his government in and on the return home had been taken ill. And this is Cicero's affectionate letter to him. and had become. it is eat as usual. written : from Leucas (Santa Maura) the day afterwards you it " I thought I could have borne the separation from better. Tiro was of this higher He had probably been born and brought up in like him. The a household like Cicero's would vary in position from the lowest menial to the important major-domo and the confidential secretary. after.— 134 CICERO'S CORRESPOXDENCE. if But you are still of the same opinion. I approved your decision. but this must slaves in he taken with some explanation. yet I feel I made as it a great mistake in leaving you behind. 68). you think I sent you can follow me * for you to decide. class. to his busy master. Nor do I think otherwise now. during his governorship of (p. But if here- when you are able to here. acting as literary amanuensis. but it is plainly impossible is of great importance to expecting * that I should get to and although the honours which I am . He was evidently a person of considerable ability and accomplishments. Tiro was a slave .

that if it is can be so without risk to your health. 135 I Mario to you. or something of the kind. doing what own health. there nothing if much as to have you with me. if you you let neither Mario's visit nor this letter hurry best for your directions. and well. will be best obeying my Consider these I miss you very points with your usual good sense. But if you want to get well take care to secure pleasant companions. He has written to the physician to spar« no care or pains. take care to get well of all your innumer- able services to me. me By — my good Tiro. catch us at Leucas. . but then I love you. telling him either to join as soon as possible. and a good love you. the most important. or. if me with you back here I wish so feel it at once." Cicero writes to him continually during his own journey homewards with the most thoughtful kindness. fine weather. Mind is this. before he strong. If you sail at once. : Above therefore. for which he mildly reproves him. will first. this will be the most acceptable. you are delayed. just to see is me the wish to see you point my affection makes as my want of you But all.TIRO. makes me long first you as soon as possible. begs that he will be cautious left a as to what vessel he sails in. Then he was hears had been foolish enough to go to a concert. much . and to charge. you as necessary for your recovery to stay a is little longer at Patrae. Only. He horse and a mule ready for him when he lands that Tiro Brundusium. and recommends has at specially one very careful captain. to come But be assured of this. ship. there for nothing I wish so much you you to get -well.

their best a letter and Quintus the elder and younger. and Brother Quintus." he says. to Tiro. " I thought you would like to . what he pleases." Then from Rome comes in the name of the whole family. " Although I miss your able and willing service every moment. except how to get well am quite aware how much you with me but everything will go I . and Cicero the younger. wife and and kindest : daughter included " Marcus Tullius Cicero. at this date. how there Then he had been quite an ovation on his arrival there ." tells him all the news from Rome . undergo the annoj^ance of sea-sickness while you are weak. regret not being now. as still it is not on my own account so much yours that I as your illness has am sorry you are not well. Only be sure. " All this. they send a note " from Cicero and his son. Just as he and his party are starting from Leucas. and TuUia.— 136 apparently. how Caesar was (he thought) growing dangerous to the state . if you have any kindness for me. CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE. you will soon be stronger. right if or you get well. and Terentia. and how his own coveted " triumph " was still postponed. I hope. Several of his letters to his friend Atticus. or risk a sea-voyage in winter. if yourself. not to trouble yourself about anything as soon as else just may be. and Quintus's Son. But now taken the form of a quartan you take care of fever (for so Curius writes). I would not have you hurr}^. to Tiro send greeting. speak in the most anxious and affectionate terms of the serious illness of this faithful servant.

" I letter ac'ain AND SOSITHEUS. in case of danger in a storm at sea. also. 137 Then he concludes: "Over and over again. and of which he probably made use in his own ' Life of Cicero. the rival advocate who has been mentioned." he says. death aflPected Cicero quite as the loss of a friend. very soon after It is presented him with his freedom.slave. to him that we are said to be indebted for the Cicero's correspond- preservation ence. which ." this. a valuable horse or an indifferent Hortensius. it would be right first to cast overboard to lighten the ship. He a biography of him. a man of more luxurious habits and less kindly spirit than Cicero. which Plutarch had seen. Cicero had the same aifection. pet lampreys in his stews who was said to feed the much better than he did his . as a chattel . and publication of wrote. his anxiety is such." Just as one might making too much fuss about a for the slave was looked upon in favourite dog They spoke scarcely a higher light in civilised Eome. "I grieve. Farewell. like Tiro. also a slave. beg you to take care to get well. and a^ain. There was another of his household for whom This was Sositheus. and outlived his kind master. who. is Indeed. Tiro got well.' but which has not come down to us. gravely discussed. of some considerable His education. " more than I ought for a mere slave. and to send me a whenever you have an opportunity. but a man. of him in the neuter gender.TIRO know. that his Eoman dignity almost ashamed of it. and it was now apologise for . whom he employed as his reader.

" instead of decessit — "died. the individual com- . there was no need to dilate upon the old man's death . the lowing remarks of " The truth is. and Cicero mentions subsequently. and was paramount to. If any further exfol: planation of this seeming coldness be required. the j)rivate and social affections. and almost swallowed up. correspondence affords us gives token of a kindly heart. with Madvig." There really seems no occasion. was there carried to an extravagant length. The love of country of Rome was essentially a public life. know something curt Some owing have suspected him of a want of filial affection. discessit — "left us. would have probably laughed at Cicero's concern for Sositheus and this Tiro. letter to Atticus of his father's death and his stanch defenders propose to adopt. the marriage of his daughter and the birth of his son assured he felt — events in which we are deeply interested. somewhat abrupt and announcement in a . CICERO'S CORRESPOXDENCE. from the dark forests of the North. But indeed every glimpse of and makes us long to a to kind which Cicero's more. Mr Forsyth are apposite and we call true that what sentiment was almost writings it unknown would be to the ancient Eomans.— 138 slaves. And this is It suggests a Eomance and sentiment came reason for the absence. when Scandinavia and Germany poured forth their hordes to subdue and people The life of a citizen of the Republic the Roman Empire. The state was everything. in whose as vain to look for it as to look for traces of Gothic architecture amongst classic ruins. and to liave shed tears at the death of one of these ugly favourites. in terms quite as brief. Unless Atticus knew the father intimately. the reading. something more than a mere illustration.

was not a a degree which few Romans could comprehend." HIS FATHERS DEATH. In one of the letters of the 139 I paratively nothing. Emperor which he love for Marcus Aurelius says that the to Fronto.' Upon this Niebuhr remarks that the Roman one hut Cicero possessed it in . corresponding affectionate parents and children. there is a passage in Roman hmguage had no word ^iXoo-Topyia. with the Greek feeling * — the . and hence he was laughed at for the grief which he felt at the death of his daughter TuJlia.

who was within a year of the same age. interest we get that element of personal which makes all writings of the kind more The argument in defence of the paradox attractive." * but Mon- was a Frenchman. The dialogue. is said to have been suggested by the opening of Plato's Republic. that " taigne short of his model." . proceeds upon the tbat it is a only possible ground. the fall it Roman at least does not it. the theory of compensations. So far as light and graceful essayist treat- ment of his subject goes. is very pleasant reading: and when we remember that the author wrote it when he was exactly in his grand climacteric. and addressed it to his friend Atticus.' which is thrown into the form of a dialogue. good thing to grow old.' Old Age.' in which Cephalus The treatise on ' ' touches so pleasantly on the enjoyments peculiar to that time of life. Montaigne said of made one long to grow old. whether it produce this effect on many readers or not. and such sentiment was quite in his way. * *' It II donne I'appetit de vieiller. ' OLD AGE ' AND FRIENDSHIP.CHAPTER ESSAYS ON ' X.

as is very name and composition of the Eoman it is safest to intrust it to the elders in the state. old. He quotes some well-known examples of this from Eoman annals examples which might be matched by obvious instances in modern English history. who had died about a century before. and who is introduced as giving a kind of lecture on the subject to his young friends Scipio and Lselius. had quite lately begun the study of Greek. The helm may not be able to climb the mast and run up and down the deck like the younger sailor. — loss of muscular vigour — is rather nakire of special pleading.' 141 put into the mouth of Cato the Censor. He more of the says little more than . secondly. collecting materials for the early was busy history of Eome. The defence which he makes of old age against the second charge pilot at the . First. and had been thinking of taking lessons in playing on the lyre. as he tells us. it unfits it us for active em- ployment. certainly a remarkable example in his own case of its being possible to if.ESSAY ON 'OLD is AGE. in his eighty-fourth year. could enjoy a country dinner-partv. but in point of thought life is not only transacted confessed by Senate. fourthly first. He states four reasons why old age is so commonly considered miserable. thirdly. grow old gracefully and he was at that age still able to take part in the debates in the Senate. and lastly. tlie fact. it is drawing near death. but he steers none the worse for being. As to the the old senator argues very fairly that very much of the more important business of by old men. He was usefully. it weakens the bodily strength. all deprives us of nearly pleasures .

" " I never Then as to the pleasures of the senses. a man does not often want to walk about with a bullock on his back. phant. but. There is one consideration which the author has not placed amongst his four chief disadvantages of gTowing which. not a deprivation to be delivered from the yoke of such tyrants ' passions — as our to feel that we have got our discharge from such a warfare — is a blessing for which men ought rather to be grateful to their advancing years. and that we . too. in short. They . " is really a privilege. is by general consent a pleasure more than equivalent is to the vanished pleasures of youth. — it incidentally in the dialogue. to lose their memory.. Cato thinks they can remember pretty well all that they care to remember. than the latter does because he has not the strength of a bull or an eleparative degrees of strength . and knew an old man " where he had buried his gold. pany less sought after. that mere muscular strength. — the feeling that we are growing is less agreeable to our friends. are not apt to forget Avho owes them money forget. that our comare. ' 142 USSAY ON 'OLD AGE. says Cato. after is not much wanted for our happiness : that there are always com- and that an old man need no more make himself unhappy because he has not the strength of a young man." he says." which age un" This. to It was very well for the great wrestler Milo be able to carry an ox round the arena on his shoulders. he did not forget. for he notices old. The old are said. on the whole." And the respect and authority which conceded to old age. however. doubtedly diminishes our power of enjoying.' all.

and may be found expanded. diluted. AGE. To feel that we grow hateful to our fellows. is really perhaps felt ills by to most of us as the hardest to bear of all the which old age is liable. some old persons are no doubt considered is disagreeable company. that though He remarks also. nor yet all tem- pers much depends on the original quality. as he observes." Cato admits that he had heard some men complain that " they were now neglected by those who had once courted their society.' Tliis. who occa- — sionally take part in the dialogue. We should not care so much about the younger generation rising up and making us look old. if we did not feel that they are " pushing us from our old stools." But he dismisses the question briefly in his own case by observing with some complacency that he does not think his young friend^ find his company disagreeable an assertion which Scipio and Ltelius. in 143 a con- . do not usually improve with age) are always disagreeable. or ." and he quotes a passage from the comic poet Cfecilius ** : This is the bitterest pang in growing old.society.—— ESSAY OX 'OLD becoming rather ciphers in dition of high civilisation. age. and that such persons attributed to their advancing years what was in truth It is not the consequence of their unamiable tempers. all wine which turns sour with . sensibly enough. this in great measure their ill - own fault : that testiness and nature (qualities which. The old Censor lays down some maxims which. have served as texts for a good many modern writers. are far too well bred to contradict. like the preceding.

' Yet it was a maxim which was very much acted upon by modern Englishmen a generation or two back. if was then thought almost a moral duty into old age. Cato is right. We should keep ourselves as young as possible. * —that old man early. as a disease. " I never could assent. to as to their whom all the young take almost as heartily own equals in age. and in many of their followers of less repute. and fight deportment. in these latter years of his." says Southey. shrewd a sense." " What a blessing it is. again. the confidants in Cato is made to place a great part of his own enjoy- ment. " to that ancient and you must become an you wish to be an old man long. in the essays of Addison and Johnson. after sixty years or even earlier. " to have a boy's heart " Do we not all know these charming thing of the youth ! old people. undoubtedly. against it . for any line at which old age now begins would be hard to trace either in dress or " "We must resist old age." Strong words from the old Roman but. in the cultivation of ." says Cato. strengthened. much-bepraised proverb. and to assume all its disabilities It its to retire as well as privileges. who are the favourite all consultees in troubles ? amusements." 144 ESSAY ON 'OLD AGE. so long as we stop short of the attempt to affect juvenility. At present the world sides with Cato. so I an old like to see man : whom there remains some- and he who follows this maxim may become an old man in body. when he in says — " As He speaks I like to see young man who has something old about him. but never in heart. and rushes perhaps into the other extreme .

the master of the house is Where a good and care- ful manager. there is a fulness throughout the whole establishment. the charm of the green tions. like a good farmer. the What fields. becomes eloquent upon the grand Gardening is a pursuit which he holds in equal honour that " purest of human pleasubject of manures. his wine-cellar. we must rememRustica. — all are in abundance. his oil-stores. On the subject of the country generally he confesses an inclinaticm to become garrulous —the one failing which he admits may be fairly laid to the charge of old age. nothing can be more luxuriant in produce. He as enthusiastic in his description of the pleasures of a country gentleman's Ufe. pigs. lambs. In or short. need to dwell upon ? the well-ordered planta- beauty of the vineyards and olive-groves to the eye. than a well-cultivated is estate and. The jjicture of the way of living of a Roman gentleman-farmer. to a is always eqaal. and. old age it so far from being any hindrance. rather invites and K ." A. honey.' which we have is still remaining). The pro- duce of the garden say. poultry. his larder. cheese. as he draws the " it. kids.ESSAV ON 'OLD AGE: his farm 145 and garden (lie ber. no doubt he was. c. a treatise * ^De Re had written. ix. to the enjoyment of this. — sures. more delightful . that allures us to such pursuits. are always well stocked . And all these good things acquire a second relish from the voluntary labours of fowling and the chase. vol. artificial city-life of must have presented a strong contrast with Rome. as our country-folk double course. milk.' a kind of Roman — Book of the Farm." as life Bacon calls it.

We find him here. as they willed forefathers. let him not hesitate to make this reply. — ' For the immortal gods. and we prolong our conversation very frequently far into the night. is He will not listen to the poet when he says again " He plants the tree that shall not see the fruit.— 146 USSAY ON 'OLD AGE: has no patience with what has been called the He despondency of old age there —the feeling. aged cultivator for whom he plants. but has a " If any should ask the its own." he says. but the voice is the well-known voice of Cicero. old so Eoman had not the horror of country society many civilised Englishmen either have or I " 1 like a talk. " over a cup of wine. '44." The answer which he would make has been into other often put simple grandeur of and more elaborate language. as in his letters. persuading himself into the is belief that the secret of happiness to be found in the retirement of the country." The words are put intoCato's mouth. . natural enough at that time of life." *Ev^en when am down at my Sabine estate. but not desirable to be encouraged. which he was. We reminded of his as half-serious complaints to Atticus * of his importunate visitors at Formise. that no longer any room for hope or promise in tho future which gives so much of its interest to the present. And his genial are and social nature beams through it all.' " to those The which affect. the dinner-parties • See p. I daily ma\'e one at a party of my country neighbours. who. so me to inherit these possessions from my that shall would have me hand them on come after.

"— the voyage. pagan sense. well's Life."— wonld make Cicero was like Dr Johnson. to be really either happy or or the denot be the old age of the mere voluptuary that the grey head." "found in the Avay might have learned moral which he puts Shakespeare froui Cicero in these points the into the is mouth of his Adam " Therefore mine age Frosty but kindly. he does not admit that death is was complaining of the want of society in 'They talk of runts' the countiy where he lived. whatever it was. wrinkles can arrogate reverence as their have been honourably is the hfe whose opening years its close. says the as its only claim obliged to appeal to its grey hairs to the respect of its juniors." must have been of righteousness. meaning that I was a man who would learn to talk of nints Bosthe most of my situation. it is " getting escaping from " the prison of the body. and comthe sight of land at last after a long ing * in'to port. to remind his readers that venerable.— i:SSAY ON 'OLD AGE. "a crown of glory." and which he so dently enjoyed. His Cato will something higher than his usual level. ' . to him the not have death to be an evil at all . " A .' 147 evi- we say now. must old age. said Mr Salnsbnry. in order to be.' {ie. " Neither hoar hairs nor It right. " obliged to go to." spent which reaps the reward of reverence at which accompany In discussing the last of the evils Cicero rises to old age. however. yomig cows). Eoman." as a lusty winter. 'Mr Johnson 'Sir. and said. even in bauchee his .* He is careful. which is It is a miserable old age." cler^^yraaii Kay.. the near approach of death.

not as out of my home. JESSAY ON 'OLD AGE." am he says " that your two fathers. have done. I^orcan I regret that I have lived. my old and dearly . my own laid whom was never better ." And he winds up the fully persuaded. man born. well known. nor more full of dutiful affection whose on the funeral pile an office he should But his spirit has never left rather have done for me. since I have so lived that I may was not born in vain and I dejDart out of life as out of a temporary lodging.loved friends.— 148 deatli.' " I have never been able to persuade myself. glorious day when I shall set out to join that blessed company and assembly quit this crowd of disembodied ! sf)irits. one of the last utterances of the philosopher's heart. yet not too well known to be here quoted " It likes me not to mourn over departing life. but that rather it is or that the spirit then only when when *' it freed from all admixture of corporality. and men of learning. and died only when they departed out of them. "that our spirits were alive while they were in these mortal bodies. then I most truly has sense." to his young listeners. as many men. and living that life which only is worthy to be so called. and and rabble of Hfe son Cato. dialogue with the very beautiful apostrophe. body I * — '^ Burke touches the same key in speaking of his son: "I . are living now. not only to those great but to men whom I spoke." he says. tarry at by the way. For nature has given it to us as an inn to trust I . not ! as a place to abide in. quoting the words of Cyrus in Xenophon. it and uncontaminated. becomes void of sense pure escapes from a senseless body . than For I of shall go my way.

but that I consoled myself with the thought that the separation between us could not be for long. have gone before me They who ought : to have succeeded they who should have been to me as posterity are in the place of ancestors. surnamed the Wise who is introduced as receiving a visit — from his two sons-in-law. as some curious philosophers assert. nor so would I have this mistaken belief of mine uprooted loner as I shall live. Laelius takes the occasion. in that I believe the err willingly . into the form of a dialogue. .assAY ON 'friendship: 149 it me . of the long and intimate friendship which had existed between themselves. the younger Scipio Africanus. But after I am dead. spirits of And if men to I err in this be — immortal— I if. soon after the sudden death of his great friend. this my great loss I it seemed to bear with calmness still not that I bore un- disturbed. Fannius and Scaevola (the great lawyer before mentioned*). And ." The essay on Friendship to Atticus ' is dedicated by the author —an appropriate recognition. it still looks fondly back upon me." * P. at the request of the "young men. though has that (Tone assuredly into those abodes where he knew I myself should follow. as he says. then I am not afraid of dead philosophers laughing at my ' mistake. to give them his views and opinions on This essay is the subject of Friendship generally. like the other. 6. live in per- me an inverted order. The principal speaker here is one of the listeners in the former case— Lselius. It is thrown. I shall have no consciousness.

and social. ' haps more original than that upon tainly is not so attractive to a cer- Its great merit is the grace and polish of the language but tlie arguments brought forward to pr ove what an it excellent thing is for a man to have good friends. and the behaviour towards them. pronounces that which is founded least merely upon interest tacit —upon mutual interchange. 150 ESSAY ON 'FRIENDSHIP. though his acquaintance with the works of Plato and Aristotle was probably exceedingly that superficial.' Old Age. in this world. of certain benefits — to be the is worthy of such a designation. of the various kinds of friendship to which he allows the common name. who. that " by nature that there must be some degree of between us association as growing closer in proportion we are brought into more intimate relations one with another. a very large requirement. by agreement. He we holds. but the fuJLfilment of one of the yearnings of our nature. of giving and receiving." So that the I social .. together with mutual goodwill and This " perfect accord. seem to us somewhat^ and commonplace. Friendship defined by Cicero religious ^." is to be "thej)erfect accord upon all questions. rules for his trite and plenty of them. Here he is in accordance with the teaching of Aristotle. whatever might have been effect upon a Roman reader.' but modern reader. Cicero is their indebted to the Greek philosophers for the main outlines of his theory of friendship.^fijtjution. bond is a matter of instinctj not of calculation not a cold commercial contract of_profit and full all loss. are so constituted man is a social animal all. ." it must be confessed. with them. He follows his Creek .

persons are sometimes disagreeable and he confesses we have a right to seek in our friends amiability as well as moral excellence. the good quality we think we see in our friend may have no existence save in our own partial imagination but the existence of the counterfeit evidence of the true original. is . some of our most modern popular philosophers " sweetness. friends There are some who are continually reminding they have done for verily they you — " you of what others a disgusting set of people are. an incontestable And the greatest attrac- and therefore the truest friendships. uncer- pleasant truths sometimes but there should be a " sweetness " amount of this indispensable to temper the bitterness of the advice. that good . all friendship must assume that there in the person towards it something good and lovable the feeling is whom entertained : may occasionally be a mistaken assumption. tion. And there are . I know thou really art my friend. the notorious fact. in fact. He that admits. is a very powerful attraction in the formation of friendships." he says anticipating. then. wiU always be of the good towards the good. true friendship amongst the good is that." — He is by no means of the same opinion Lord Lytton's Tale of Miletus ' ' as Sisyphus in " Now. None but true friends choose such unpleasant words." admits that it is He tain the oflice of a friend to tell . however.— ESSAY ON 'friendship: masters again in holding exist only — — 151 can that . " Sweetness." says our author. both in language and in manner. as all these ancients so provokingly do.

" . " in which case there generally something of which they are conscious in themselves. in his view. and discusses the question whether their " friends" were or were not bound to aid them in their treasonable designs against the state. the advice which he makes Laelius give to his younger relatives or ancient : is good for all ages. and the troublesome brotherhoods which had gathered round Catiline and Clodius." he means "our party. " There is nothing in this modern world more valu- able than friendship. and that one great use of friends was that a man should not be isolated. he cannot help sliowing that it was of the essence of friendship. Be this as it may." Cicero's treatise. to hold the same political opinions. to the friendships and conversation I have lent still been used to. running upon political friendships. of the most excel- men in their several kinds that lived in that a^je. as laying them open to contemptuous treatment. " I owe all the little I know." so here." Lord Clarendon was often heard to say. qualifications of a true friend but his own thoughts Just as when. as everywhere. in many of his letters. When he puts forward the old instances of Coriolanus and Gracchus. he the politician. and the little good that is in me. as he had sometimes feared he was. he talks about "all honest men. He shows are a true appreciation of the duties and the . own character displays itself in this short is Here. he was surely thinking of the factions of his own times.152 ESSAY ON 'FRIENDSHIP: are who always thinking themselves slighted is . when he talks of friends." " ISText to the immediate blessing and providence of Almighty God. in his political course.

he held this study to be the duty of * 'De Fiuibus Bonorum et i\Ialorum." He invokes with affectionate reverence the great sage name of Socrates the who had " first drawn wisdom down from heaven. blessings in her train. "What it. his subject with To him She is Philosophy brings the guide of life. the medicine for his sorrows. — laden with philosophic lore than Cicero." ISTo man ever approached his subject more richly Snatcliiug life.' J> . 'the true exds of life. so far as it might be answered.'* Philosophy was Pilate's question. truth 1" or to teach men. every leisure moment that he could from a busy he devotes ages.CnAITEPc XI CTCERO'S PHILOSOPHY. " the fountain-head of all all perfect eloquence —the mother of good deeds and good words. to the Eoman is -what religion is to us. it to the study of the great minds of former Indeed." all all " the knowledge of things invests human and Hence the philosopher attributes of dignity. as Cicero described divine. It professed to answer.

on the part of his countrymen." . of what he terms " an arrogant disdain for everything national. all he can do is. as he expresses it. also. which Demoeritus had declared depths of the Yet. seeking by their light to discover Truth. also suited to his own natural and he grew weary of and was harassed by domestic troubles. His ambition is achieve what he might well regard as the hardest of tasks a popular treatise on philosophy . could he * conceive of real eloquence without tion of eloquence is." and " present this stranger — * "Copiose loquens sapientia. and he has He makes no pretence to origicertainly succeeded. sea. and takes his parchments of Plato and Aristotle to be the friends of his councils and the companions of his as years passed on.154 tlie CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. after translate." But such studies were tastes. and so con- scious." of his He as thought that —adopting and rearranging such of the doctrines Greek masters approved themselves own judgment — he might make by an eclectic process to his his to own work a substitute for theirs." that he apologises to his readers for writing for the million in their motlier-tongue.ome is all her literature. jjcrfect orator . civil discords And solitude. "to ariay Plato in a Latin dress. nality. the great orator turns his back upon the noisy city. to be " a Yet he is not content. to be buried in the he professes to do is little more than So conscious indebted for he that it is to Greece that E. it . for his defini- " wisdom speaking fluently. as he says. mere interpreter. a knowledge of tlie human mind I*^or was one of his essential qualifications. all.

of ease. we by advocate this as the highest contrary. orave question even to the most careless and rhetorfrom the nature of the case. In practice. a man must be either Stoic or Epicurean. both dramatic — thinker— and Representatives of the two great schools of philosophy—the Stoics and Epicureans plead and counterical. " Who scorn delights and live laborious days. of Your highest instances martyrdom country. their arguments are based on principles broad and universal For now.— 'THE TRUE ENDS OF LIFE: a 155 from beyond the seas with the freedom of his native And so this treatise on the Ends of Life city."* or. each in their turn. enough to be valid even now. on the other hand. men are inevitably separated into two classes amiable — men guide their conduct by the rudderwho for the most part " leave the strings of pleasure world" (as has been finely said) "in the world's debt. in this dialogue. and do not be misled by that vulgar conception of pleasure as mere sensual enjoyment our opponents misrepresent . is allowed to plead its own cause. Each school. zealous men of duty. us when they say that good we hold." is. . on the . who — having consumed much and produced nothing. — plead in his pages. as then. — of Decii consuls devoting themselves for * their of Lord Derby. that men often obtain the greatest pleasure neglecting this baser kind. if not in theory. "Listen" (says the Epicurean) "to the voice of nature that bids you pursue pleasure." and act according to the dictates of their honour or their conscience.

affirm that only the wise man is really happy. and prove your wisdom .' But the wise man's life is unalloyed happiness. we ex- Why. he has devoted him- who out too late or that self to money power ' or glory to no purpose.' too.' Passing on to the second book of the hear the advocate of the counter-doctrine. gratitude. to be enjoys the blessings of the disregards the future. as he expresses ') it. claims the Stoic. Vice is hut ignorance of real enjoyment. life is short should hope he more ? In the moment of our talking envious time has slipped away. l)utting their sons to death. he remembers the past with present. ' and day by the anxieties sent upon them by the immortal We do not. Eejoicing in a clear conscience.' is Thus the moral and drawn ' that which Horace : (himself. Seize the present. even are racked night they escape public censure. . to are not disinterested acts of sacrifice. gods. trust to-morrow e'en as little as you may. and a . Temperance alone can hring peace of mind if and the wicked. treatise. we. preserve discipline " .— 156 — CICERaS PHILOSOPHY. Happiness passions. ' is as impossible for a mind distracted by fac- as for a city divided by contending The finds terrors of death haunt the guilty wretch. introduce Pleasure to the councils of Virtue tice ? 1 Why uphold a theory so dangerous in pracclass Your Epicurean soon turns Epicure. contradict your Stoic . hut the choice of a present pain in order to procure a future pleasure. tions. one of the litter of Epicurus impresses on his fair friend Leuconoe ' Strain your wine. in this.

" Do not then (concludes the Stoic) take good words in your mouth. sound the clarion. more. And then fol- lows a passage which echoes the stirring lines of Scott— " Sound. and ransack sea and land for delicacies to supply their feasts. fill the fife To all the sensual world proclaim. and prate before apjilauding citizens of honour. is this pleasure And what which he makes of such high account 1 it lasts ! How recall short-lived wdiile ! how ignoble But even the it afterwards and sentiments of men condemn so selfish a doctrine. able beyond this pleasure to the level of the is In his view% there nothing admir- —no sensation or emotion of the mind. We were surely born for nobler ends than this. One crowded hour Is of glorious life worth an age without a name. when we common feeling to admare Begulus in his tortures. no soundness or health of body.' 157 men start up who have never seen the sun rise or set. "We are naturally led to uphold truth and abhor deceit. on costly plate and gorgeous rooms. who squander fortunes on cooks and perfumers. tells us) provided is it be from inordinate But who % to fix the limit to such vague concessions Kay. and none . There free is no harm in luxury (he desires. and so forth. and to despise a lifetime of inglorious ease. duty. he degrades men brute creation. while you make your private lives a mere selfish calculation of exj^ediency.! 'THE TRUE ENDS OF of LIFE. Epicurus gives his disciples a dangerous discretion in their choice.

hut by being prodigal of their lives. And wrong and injustice are more really contrary to this nature than either death. fade into nothing before the to si)leudours is of and that compare the two sunlight. The heroes of old time won their immortality not by weighing pleasures and pains in the balance. in the i)reface to his Sermons upon Human Nature. when it is said that virtue conand vice in deviating from it. There. or bodily suffering. for he was killed at Philippi. "gorging himself with hooks. doing and enduring all things for the sake of their fellow-men. Honour he ing to nature " declares to he the rule. Cicero has walked across from his Tusculan manuscripts from the well "^ villa to borrow^ some his - stocked library of young friend Lucullus a youth whose high promise was sadly cut short." Cicero finds Marcus Cato — — a Stoic of the Stoics —who expounds in a high and " life accord- tone the principles of his sect. t So Bisbo]) Butler. meant by the nature of man. the end of man's existence. The opening scene in the third book is as lively and dramatic as (what was no doubt the writer's model) the introduction of a Platonic dialogue. or poverty. like holding a candle against the or setting a drop of * See p. or any other outward evil."t Stoics and Peripatetics that bodily pleaare agreed at least on one point — sures virtue. 43.158 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY." . when he was not more than twenty-three. is who worthy the name of a man would subscribe to doctrines which destroy all honour and all chivalry.' says they were " intended to explain what is * sists in following.

' though is in the fairer midst of poverty than the body the world. things. 159 Yonr Epi- curean would have each man live in selfish isolation.' since virtuously spent is a perpetual happiness. . to ' happy.' for. unlike the tyrants of ' is lord of himself . We. using newfangled terms and misty Their fine arguments with a " vainglorious parade.' for he has till no need of Solon's warning a life wait the end.' rich. —" Obey for his guidance those God . he . but in nobler language. to be a part of this vast And thus every man has his lot and place in life. rising to enthusiasm. ' ' beautiful. merely " pick out the thorns" and " lay bare the bones^^ of previous systems. engrossed in his private pleasures and pursuits. maintain that has appointed the world to be a common city for men and gods.' for the a king." In the fourth book.'THE TRUE EXDS OF LIFE: brine against the waves of the ocean. for he alone can make a right use of all though he be bound by chains . " Divine Providence on the other hand. and should take excess." golden rules of ancient times thyself. All that the Stoics have said has been said a hundred times before by Plato and Aristotle. : the philosopher concludes " Who cannot but admire ? the incredible beauty of such a system of morality What or character in history or in fiction can be grander ' ' more consistent than the wise man of the Stoics 1 All the riches and glory of the world are his." . Cicero himself proceeds to vindicate the wasdom of the ancients demic school of Socrates and his pupils —the old Aca— against what They he considers the novelties of Stoicism." and each one of us social system. ' He mind is ' free. know shun Then.

which all theories are by their fondness for paradox. and go far to banish from among all us love. the fair humani- The fifth book carries us back some twenty years." And lastly. spiritual being. they reduce all offences to the same dead level. It is. his The cousin Lucius. hut so did Aristotle some centuries before them. irresistibly carries minds back to those illustrious spirits who had . our mental enjoyment. But their great fault (says life. say. They too often degenerate into austere critics and bitter partisans. as impious : to beat a slave as to beat a parent because.y to l*lato himself the possession of wisdom. They take no account of the thousand circumstances which go to form our happiness. talk about citizens of the world and the ideal wise man is rather poetry than philosophy. a might be the chief good is but in actual life our physical closely is bound up with Again. this stubbornness of opinion affects their personal character. their with its historic associations. virtue To . gratitude. With him are his brotlier Quintus. and pain facts before one of those stern powerless. and virtue with wisdom. taking his afternoon walk among the deserted groves of the Academy. nothing more vicious than vice. scene." that they would dei. as they " nothing can be more virtuous than virtue. Cicero) is.— 160 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. and his friends Piso and Atticus. that they is ignore the practical side of So broad " the line which they draw between the " wise and " foolish. They rightly connect happiness with virtue. when we find Cicero once more at Athens. friendship. in their eyes. and ties of life.

" de. by every blast of doctrine.' from the place ' where he taught. if from no other source.'THE TRUE ENDS OF LIFE: once made the place their own. that (as one feet. ' ' A." the Academy. The Old Academy were the disciples of Plato . and aU elegance of language may rived. But first we must settle what this chief good is— this end and object of our efforts— and not be carried to and fro. from whose writings all liberal learning. as the Peripatetics (the school of Aristotle) from the little knot of listeners who folEpiciirus's school were lowed their master as he waJked. we his portion. More than after all. tion. 161 these trees Among under the shadow of that Porch Zeno had lectured to his disciples * yonder Quintus points out the " white peak of Colonus. L . may learn the secret of a happy life. be deall history. ' known as the philosophers of 'the ' Garden. of the friends remarks) " wherever we tread upon some we Then plant our Piso. lil^e ships Bacon him) to knowledge ' ' without a steersman. Cicero's on the horizon were the waves of the Phaleric own great proto- type. who seemed all (like Lord as havcTtaken From these. * The Stoics took their name from the stoa." place. vol. indeed. " while crlisteninoh harbour. scribed by Sophocles in " those sweetest lines . wliere they sat at lecture. they should turn to the leader of the Peripatetics. Plato himself had walked . begs his friends to turn from the degenerate thinkers of their own day to those giants of philosophy. had outvoiced with the thunder of his declamaSo countless. speaking at Cicero's request.' or portico in. C. are the memories of the past called up by the genius of the history. the New Academy (to whose tenets Cicero inclined) re\'ived the gi-eat principle of Socrates— of afiirming nothing. which Demosthenes. Aristotle. ix.

then. Even " in the infant there are " as were sparks_ofjartue — half-unconscious principles of love fruit. is And say with others is that happiness tranquillity of mind. comes the question. all such theories aside. itself is only " the perfection of this reason. the question. great principle of nature and so strong this instinctive love of life both among men and Then is animals. as and gratitude . we bring the is is argument tlie first to a practical Self-preservation . develops into the and these germs bear man. that we see even tbe iron-hearted Stoic shrink from the actual pangs of a voluntary death. growing with his growth until perfection." and. What ? is this it nature that is so precious to each of us Clearly compounded of its body and mind. each with many but as the mind should rule tlie virtues of own . genius or intellect is is something divine. Putting. has reached it Furthermore. issue. so reason." no less wrong are they who it. CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. say that " honour" requires pleasure to be added to itself since they thus again. as Virtue the dominant faculty. should rule the mind.— 162 . If Epicurus was wrong in placing Happiness " In corporal pleasure and in careless ease. quoting from the poet of all tijiie : . to make honour simply to beg dishonourable. call it what you will. there in man a gradual progress of it reason. says the philosopher. body. AVe have us the child also an instinct which such is attracts towards tlie pursuit of wisdom the true meaning of the Sirens' voices in the Odyssey.

but leaves Cicero pronounces no judgment of perplexed as when he the great question almost as * Odyss. he pertinently asks. or childless. 'THE TRUE ESDS OF LIFE: 163 " Turn thy swift keel and listen to our lay came. t In a little treatise called " Paradoxes. in brief. not pleasure. Since never pil-rim to these re^dons sailed away. of these scholastic quibbles of . be possibly blind." and in Again. except language % t closes. tion of' the old masters of shot at the Stoic parting leave the place. action action grows with us. of contemplation in the islands of minds can never rest. the dialogue his own.vindicaSuch. 185 (Worsley). still Even the gambler But in the true life of action. with ampler mind. the ruling principle should be honour. in exile or by a monstrous perversion of caUed happy. be it politics or science. and Here. Cicero's) . life (if it is to be at all) must be passed by each of us. which they offer. and the man of excitement in society. Cicero Hres a paradox that the ' wise man ' is always happy. ture. But heard our sweet voice ere he * And in his joy passed on. is Piso's (or rather Before they philosophy. from a life of and philosophers paint the serene delights the blest.. pleasure seek must ply the dice-box." Cicero discusses six the Stoics. sickness and poverty." It is it is Hence wisdom. somewhat abruptly. xii. can one in in torture. How. our "Desire for of some life sort. to literathat men devote their days and nights accrue without a thought of any gain that may it .

theories. not long deceased half- — statesman. Here. memory almost as divine a for facts. to us . Atticus. what Varro constrips virtue who of all its beauty. the elder Lucullus. and Varro himself pass a long afternoon in discussing villa at to Yarro. or to logic. lion's share of the first Varro takes the dialogue. a noble patron of art the relative merits of the old and new Academies . with something of envy " witli . In his CumiB were spacious porticoes and gardens. as also does siders the heresy of Theophrastus. and shows how from philosophy. II. to whom it is was Cicero had rewritten the whole on an enlarged scale. by denying that happiness depends upon it. on a terrace looking seawards. he leans rather Self-sacrihce Stoic than to the Epito his view. and hence we get the title of the work. to present a higher ideal tlian pleasure or expediency." says Cicero.nt. Cicero. and a library with galleries and cabinets open to all comers. But. to nature. whether the " vast and varied genius of Plato" both Academics and Peripatetics drew related to all their it morals. half-dilettante. The first book (as we have it now) dedicated and literature. curean.164 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. The second book is dedicated to another illustrious name. and honour seem.* this Fragments of two editions of work have come first down s^. Stoicism receives a passing notice. of the two antagonistic to the started the discussion. for almost before the copy had reached the hands of his friend Atticus. 'academic questions.

— to his hearers as though he Even the " See how Draws While on the Apollo. was.d tures of gods and heroes.'ACADEMIC QUEST loss. If (he says) is reject the testi- mony of the senses. so it is with Eold indeed must be the man who passes into cercan define the point at which belief knowledge. scepticism of the Lucullus condemns the Xew Academy —those we reactionists against the dogmatism of past times. Cicero advocate's love of arguing the case both . Even the it is the shore that recedes "which mathematicians affirm to be eighteen 'what is ship sailing sun." Xo—we Socrates. his piclifelike to himself ai. nor argument. which After The our eyesight worth? to move." all And as it is with tliese things. are sure of nothing and we are happy if. the bent of his own all. These us. who disbelieve their very eyesight. 1G5 " as Horteiisius had for words. but to the sailors across the bay yonder seems from their view. near Tuseuhim. mind. fair-haired god. like we only know this— that we know if nothing. there neither body. or partly influenced perhaps by the ways. looks but a ter. torch." This time it is at his perhaps even now villa. nor anything certain left our belief. as in irony. are as actually saw them . Then. nor truth. tainty. in fact. perpetual doubters destroy every ground of Cicero ingeniously defends this scepticism. sophic dialogue takes place. in and bends his golden bow. left fair Dian waves her . foot in diametimes larger than the earth. amidst scenery that the philotlie loveliest of all Italian landscapes. " fine frenzy " of the poet.

ses Cicero's villa at Tuscu- There. pierc- bodies ing as to penetrate the mysteries of heaven and earth 1" The treatise. is but a disappointing fragincomplete. and so release the Deity from a great deal of hard work. of then. can we have an eyesight so however. out some godlike wisdom. did the Deity.* and reasons in very language of materialism : You assert that all the universe could not have been so ingeniously made withand ants. death was the great problem of hu- manity--" to die and go we know nut where. as now. death an evil 1 Was life? Was the soul immortal 1 Hovv could a man best bear pain and the other miseries of virtue any guarantee for happiness? Was Then. it is better to imagine that creation the result of the laws of nature.' this dialogue is The scene of lum." * See ]). THE 'TUSCULAN DTSPUTATTONS. the m^ajesty of which you trace down even to the perfection of bees Why. when he made everything (for instance) is for the sake of man. when he nifrht % . The 168. . he walks and discus- with his friends the vexed questions of morality. make such a variety % venomous reptiles Your divine is soul a fiction . thinks that he an object of divine care. in his long gallery. for which of us. then. argument of design which " elsetlie demolislies that grand where he so carefully constructs. can help feeling an awe of the divine j^ower day and But we do not understand even our own how.1G6 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. and the argument is Ill. and me from is fear . ment.

' I old belief in Elysium 167 died awct^' ." It us. that our children may . and Tartarus it liad as Cicero himself boldly puts thin-^s in another place. and as. says Cicero." so also in death. or other (he says) there clings to our . which. the Roman said. is "Lex no a poena mors'^ a law. as were. is in the M'ords of the English poet. within us " . we are not. noble even more than to miuds. tliat others it may into our labours and is this life after death. the terrors of a material hell. those poetic legends. tliose old wives' tales.— 'TUSCULAX Jj/SPrTATIOXS. Our birth but a sleep and a forgetting. M'e toil. or . Man cannot perish utterly. was. is The stroncr instinctive sense of immortal itv. was " the last infirmity of was so in a special degree to Cicero.. inspires desire to live in men's mouths the patriot and the martyr. Somehow a certain presage of future ages and so we plant.th is not when death has come. — "Death It fall . not a penalty" it — was the we are. ancient saying. " AVhile de. Fame to the Roman." Cicero brings forward the testimony of past ages to prove that death is not a mere annihilation. Either death brought an absolute unconsciousness." Which brought Believe not then. and the minds enter the dead return to us in visions of the night. he armies. or the soul soared into space. reap . spirits of Heroes are deified . such were no Ioniser even old wives' fables. the close of a l>au(juet or the of the curtain. the for ever. though in other words "Our souls have sight of that immortal sea us hither.

when it forsooth. so is memory and eloquence seem the soul itself. its As if. To me. . and man himself." Look on the sun and the stars look on the alternation of the seasons. joys of a sensual paradise. and the changes of day and night look . is they could m the body. Plato that the soul lias an eternal principle of which neither heginning nor end of existence so. What else can be this power which enables us future. magnitude. is Kather hold with life. a god dwelling in the breast of each of us. ." says even the heathen philosopher. there far more difficulty iiud obscurity in forming a conis ception of what the soul a dwelling where of it while in the body. il faudrait I'inveuter " mais toute nature crie qu'il existe. comprehend what conformation. as the divine. diswere not tinct from tlie body. aijain at the earth bringing forth her fruits ibr the use ." The heavens. 22. when is I consider the nature of the soul. —" Si Dieu la n'existait pas. " INlen say tliey canall nature not conceive or comprehend what the soul can he. . of men the multitude of cattle * I. . — —than in what it will be when has escaped into the free atmus})here of heaven." * gifts of And as the poet seems to us inspired. or its position there. . Avhich seems its natural abode. little seems so it at home. and would stand at gaze. for if it heaven and earth Avould be overset. — its . to foresee the 1 understand the present There follows a passage on the argument from design which anticipates that fine saying of Voltaire . it is. " declare the glory of God.IGS tli5 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. c. in its simple essence. to to recollect the past.

'TUSCULAX DISPUTATIONS.'
made
as
it

169

were to contemplate and adore the heavens and the gods. Look on all these things, and douht
is

not that there

some Being, though you

see

him

not,

who

has created and jDresides over the world.
;

" Imitate, therefore, the end of Socrates

who, with

the fatal cup in his hands, spoke Avith the serenity of

one not forced to

die, but, as it

were, ascending into

heaven
they
luted

;

for

he thought that the souls of men, when
;

left

the body, went by different roads
vice

those pol-

by

and unclean living took a road wide
to the assembly of the gods
;

of that

which led

while

those

who had kept themselves
life

pure, and on earth

had

taken a divine

as their model,

found

it

easy to

return to those beings from

whence they came."

Or

learn a lesson from the swans, who, with a prophetic
instinct, leave this

world with joy and singing. Yet do not anticipate the time of death, " for the Deity but, forbids us to depart hence without his summons
;

on just cause given
like

(as to Socrates

and Cato), gladly
light, aiid,

should we exchange our darkness for that

men

not breaking prison but released by the law,

leave our chains with joy, as having been discharged

by God." The feeling of these ancients with regard to suicide, we nmst here remember, was very different from our
own.

There was no distinct idea of the sanctity of

life

;

no

social stigma

and consequent
it as

suffering were brought

on the family of the suicide.
osophers alike upheld

Stoic

a lawful

and Epicurean philremedy against the

pangs of

disease, the dotage of old age, or the caprices

of a tyrant.

Every man might, they contended, choose

170
his

CICEPO'S PHILOSOPHY.

own route on the last great journey, and sleep well, when he grew wearied out with life's fitful fever. The door w^as always open (said Epictetus) when the play palled on the senses. You should quit the stage with dignity, nor drain the flask to the dregs. Some philosophers,
it

is

true, protested against it as a

mere de-

vice of cowardice to avoid pain,

and

as a failure in our

duties as good citizens.

Cicero, in one of his latest

works, again quotes with approval the opinion of Pythagoras, that *'no
life

man

should abandon his post in

without the orders of the Great Commander."

But

at

Rome

suicide

had been

glorified

bv a

\o\\<x

roll of

illustrious

names, and the

j^rotest

was made

in vain.

But why, continues Cicero, wdiy add to the miseries of life by brooding over death? Is life to any of us such unmixed pleasure even while it lasts'? Which of us can tell whether he be taken away from good or from evil? As our birth is but "a sleep and a forgetting," so our death

may be but

a second sleep, as lastcall it

ing as Endjnnion's.
if

Why

then

wretched, even

we

die before our natural time?

Nature has lent us
;

life,

without fixing the day of payment
is

and uncer-

tainty

one of the conditions of
life

its

tenure.
is

Compare
meassets,

our longest
ured by

with eternity, and
insects

it

as short-lived
life is

as that of those ephemeral
a

whose

summer day; and
then,

" who,

when

the sun

have reached old age."
Let
us,

base our happiness on strength of

mind, on a contempt of earthly pleasures, and on the
strict

observance of virtue.

Let us

recall the last noble

words of Socrates

to his judges.

"The

death," said


*TUSCULAX DISPUTATIOXS:
lie,

1

17

"to which you condemn me, I count a gain rather
loss.

than a

Either
it

it is

a dreamless sleep that
I

knows

no waking, or

carries

me where
is

may
/ go

converse with
to death, you

the spirits of the illustrious dead.
to life
;

but which of us

going the better way,

God

only knows."

man, then, dies too soon who has run a course for glory follows like a shadow in of perfect virtue AVelcome death, therefore, the wake of such a life.

Xo

;

as a blessed deliverance

from

evil,

sent

by the

special

favour of the gods,

who

thus bring us safely across a

sea of troubles to an eternal haven.

The second
cuss
is, tlie

topic

which Cicero
Is

and. his friends disit

endurance of pain.

an unmixed

evil

?

Cau anything

console the snfferer?

Cicero at once

condemns the sophistry of Epicurus.
cannot pretend indilference to pain
he endure
it
;

The wise man
it is

enough that
all

it

mth

courage, since,

beyond

question,
is

is

sharp, bitter,

and hard

to bear.

And what

this

courage?

Partly excitement, partly the impulse

of honour or of shame, i)artly the habituation which Keep, therefore steels the endurance of the gladiator.

this

is

the conclusion

stern

restraint

over the

feminine elements of your soul, and learn not only to
despise the attacks of pain, but also
«

The

slings

and arrows of outrageous fortune."
discussion naturally passes to
grief, as

From

physical, the

mental, suffering.
prescribes the

Eor

well as for pain, he

"a

remedy of the Stoics ivquanimlUis calm serenity of mind." The wise man, ever serene

172

CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY.
is

and composed,
fear or desire.

moved
is

neither by pain or sorrow, by

He

equally undisturbed by the malice

of enemies or the inconstancy of fortune.

But what

consolation

can

we

bring to ease

the jjain of the

Epicurean
bine

?

" Pat a nosegay to his nostrils

perfumes before him
!

— crown him with
may
divert,

—burn
in

roses

and woodlittle

"

But perfumes and garlands can do
;

such case
console.

pleasures

but they can scarcely

Again, the Cyrenaics bring at the best but Job's
comfort.
lightly

No man

will bear his misfortunes the

more

able
is

—that others have
grieve at all?

part

by bethinking himself that they are unavoidsuffered before him that pain and parcel of the ills which flesh is heir to.

Why
forget

Why

feed your misfortune
life

by
and

dwelling on if?
it,

Plunge rather into active
alike
grief,

remembering that excessive lamentation over
is

the trivial accidents of humanity
unnecessary.

unmanly and
so
it

And

as

it

is

with

is

with

envy,
the

lust,
"

anger,

and those other "perturbations of

which the Stoic Zeno rightly declares to be "repugnant to reason and nature." From such
it is

mind

disquietudes

the wise

man who

is free.

The

fifth

and

last

Is virtue of itself

book discusses the great question. suihcient to make life happy ? The
that
it is

bold conclusion

is,

sufficient.

Cicero

is

not

content with the timid qualifications adopted by the
school of the Peripatetics,

who

say one

moment

tliat

external advantages and worldly prosperity are nothing,

and then again admit
without them, he
is

that,

though man may be happy
is

happier with them,— which

' to which we pass next. olive. the duties of a says a gentleman — "the " ever far noblest present." to modern writer. made by parent a child. THE TREATISE ' OX MORAL DUTIES. is addressed by the author to his son.* ' The treatise 'De Ofliciis. But they alone can be pronounced happy whose "alarmed by no are like some tranquil sea wasted by no griefs. ener- — vated by no relaxing pleasures. it may be glory. or Avis- minds fears. inflamed by no lusts. or money.TREATISE 'OX MORAL DUTIES: making the real happiness imperfect after alL 173 INlen dilfer in their views of life. virtue alone can }*'oduce. in the race of we are all slaves to some ruling dom." — and such serenity These mired. some merely by the so." IV. As in the great 01.' known as Cicero's Offices. some by desire of gain." * Written in a higher tone than Eord Chesterfield's letters. idea. while studying at Athens under Cratippus . Greek under- Erasmus carried his admiration of this treatise to enthusiasm. who It is inscribed his a treatise on Ethics to his son Nicomachus. though treating of the same subKelsall. . ' Disputations their ' have always been highly adwere less read or But Cicero's popularity was greater in times originals when stood. the throng are attracted. life." he says. "but that in- the mind from which such teaching flowed was spired in some sort by divinity. possibly in imitation of Aristotle. some by the crown of wild spectacle . "I cannot doubt.ympic games.

its — and there We is no says Cicero. modern Clnistian " What makes 1 What is a duty What is expediency 1 How and shall I learn to choose between lastly (a point my est principles my ' interests'? And '' of casuistry which must sometimes perplex the strictwhich is most conscience). and in their neglect the disgrace. In their due discharge consists all the nobility. of mankind : wliat. proposes and answers multifarious questions to the which must occur continually an action right or wrong 1 as well as to the ancient philosopher. of two things honest. of character. There should be no are born not selfish devotion to private interests. can be lower Honour is that *' unbought grace " Avhich In society it adds a lustre to every action. without all obligations. We should render and justice is due even to the lowest to all their due ." life.174 ject.' of his discourse throughout it tliat so?" The key-note is Honour . vey the — . NohJcfse oblige. * produces The English "Honesty" and " Honour" alike fail to conThe word expresses full force of the Latin honestus. We owe duties not only to those who have benefited but to those who have wronged us. Ijut for our kindred and fatherland. a progress of thought trom comeliness and grace of person to a noble and graceful character all wliose works are done in honesty and honour. for ourselves only. for instance (he says Avith a hard- ness Avhich jars than a slave ? upon our better feelings). and the word seems to carry with which Burke attributed grace of life to chivalry — magic force ''the unbought — the nurse of heroic sentiment and maidy state of enterprise. it CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY.

Augustin tells us. In war it produces that moderation and good faith between contend- And and ing armies which are the surest basis of a lasting peace. the sense of beauty. he says. as equity. — 175 in business. and the love of law and order. "this Honour' could but be seen in her full beauty by mortal eyes. in a man . reproducing the noble words of Wisdom.— TREATISE 'ON MORAL DUTIES: courtesy of manners . in one sense. it truth. under the form of Again." Such is the general spirit of this treatise. by the cheers of the entire audi- "—the ence in the theatre) "Homo sum —humani nihil a me aliciiiiin pnto . as spirit of Terence's famous which Cicero notices (applauded on its recitation. smooths the harsh features of the law." * * "I am a man— I hold that nothing which concerns mankind can be matter of unconcern to me. it establishes public credit. as applied to * by him only the briefest sketch can be given in these pages. paying the same noble tribute to humanity as Kant some great but centuries after : " On earth there is man ." justice. "makes \ the whole world kin line. Man is only " and to him belong prerogatives v/hich mark him off from the brute creation the fticulties of reason and discernment. the whole world would fall in love with her. fortitude and temperance. so in honour are centred the elements of all the virtues —wisdom and "if. of which Plato. And from this " lower than the angels • arises that fellow-feeling which." . there is nothinoo nothing great but * mind." Truth is law of our nature. Cicero bases honour on our inherent excellence of nature.

liiui You may Avrong your neighbour by seeing wronge<l without interfering. may give a title . justice is the great duty of mankind." from taking their part in "the fellowship of He would have had small patience witli our modern doctrine of non-intervention and neutrality in nations any more than in men. trades -unions. action. companies. causing a dissolu- and obligations." There is. or compact. and is the more dangerous as it a right of nature." and thus shrink life. Cicero takes the opportunity of protesting strongly against the selhsh policy of those lovers of ease and peace." appears in the more exalted tion of all ties spirits. and generally in what Mr Carlyle terms " swarmery. " from a desire of furthering their own interests. an injustice of omission. hence also that general love of combination. friendship. and social ties. or else from a churlish temper. in matters of Ancient immemorial conquest. Cicero at once condemns " property.4vl -r f *. but " no man can say that Inhe has anything his own by justice springs from avarice or ambition. And of here he takes oc- casion to instance " that late most shameless attempt of Ctesar's to make himself master besides. the thirst of riches or of empire." and desire an intercourse of words and Hence spring the family affections. resulting iu clubs. for (he continues) " all men by nature love one another. Eome. in order that they may seem to be men of strict integrity and to injure none. Such conduct arises (he says) . who. which forms a striking feature of the present age." ISText to trutli. profess that they mind nol)ody's business but their own. 176 " ' '** ilC^BO'S PIllLOSOPH Y. communism " seizure.

so less open violence seems !No character is so odious than secret villany. and when. c. justly hateful as " A rogue in grain." I^ations have their obligations as well as individuals. part of justice consists in liberality. we should give 1 possible . too.TREATISE 'ON MOR: from the science . false logic with which men cheat their conis arguing reversely. possible to be generous at another person's expense it is to injure the recipient liberality or to ruin one's fortune by mistimed by open house and prodigal hospitality. M . and war has its laws as well as peace. There are two ways. Veneered with sanctimonious theory. and has It is an important question. ix. seemed a questicjn it has sometimes between two hostile nations. but which should. vol. it the best must be remembered. It is : how. and to whom." remain a nation at No mean this. that whatever policy is —honesty. and not in the spirit of extermination." is a nobler form of generosity than pro- viding wild beasts or shows of gladiators to amuse the Charity should begin at home . — but as the lion is a nobler creature than the fox. not when " which sliould remain a conqueror. its duties. A great man's bounty (as he says in another place) should be a for the needy. all. The struggle should be carried on in a generous temper. in which one man may injure another force and fraud . common sanctuary " To ransom captives and enrich the meaner folk mob. for relations A.

" Our liberality shouhl be really liberal. or from torch at lighting his thy hearth. grace in There : a words as well as in conduct we should . or sect. or party.- — it In gesture and de|)oitnient men They shwdd strive to acquire that dignified grace of manners it " which adds as were a lustre to our lives." The lowest and commoner virtue form of courage fighting-cock. and friends hold the first place in our affections . not " from a vain or fantastic humour. same discord in society as a is false note in music and harmony of character of more is consequence than harmony of sounds." country comprehends the endearments of should act in the shalt keep spirit of the ancient law — " Thou We no man from the running stream. and " our all." and is noblest form a generous contempt for ordinary objects of ambition." Taylor describes "friendship to the age. should avoid altectation ai]d eccentricity a farthing " not to care what people think of us is a sign not so much of pride as of immodesty." Another component principle of this honour is courwhich (continues Cicero) its has been well defined by the Stoics as " a virtue con- tending for justice and honesty." . hut the circle of our good deeds is not to he narrowed by the ties of blood.— 178 CICERO'S PIIILO^OPLY. is the mere animal of the But a character should not only be should be graceful." The want of tact the saying and doing things at the wrong time and place —produces the . or " greatness of soul. — like as that charity which all Jeremy world. excellent. but from solid principles of reason.

own their own way the Arpinum — in the world. inasmuch as " the choice has is commonly be made when the judgment weakest." — The Eoman's view professions of the comparative dignity of is and occupations (if interesting. perhaps not without a personal reference) this is generally the case with those born of mean parents. "which may" (he concludes) " be justly said of but too many in our times. fame of of all by no means insensible " The noblest inherhe says. sights is that of a noble house dragged through the mire by some degenerate descendant. otherwise he was a notorious oliender aiiaiust his own rule." — Nothing to is so difficult (says Cicero) as the choice of a profession. is the his virtues and glorious actions " and saddest call him — is . who propose to carve line of their . Honour and shame from no condition rise Act well your part there all the honour lies. ' But the iittrveim of new man. so far as innocent .' as aristocratic jealousy always loved to to the true honours of ancestry. each should follow the bent of it is own " genius. ." In the path of his '* life. others beat out a fresh and (he adds." his son." Some tread in their father's steps. so as to be a by-word among the populace. because his prejudices they be prejudices) have so long main- * This last precept Cicero must have considered did not apply to letter-writing. " that can ever be left by a father to far excelling that of lands and houses.— TREATISE 'OX MORAL DUTIES: 179 avoid unseasonable jests. " and not lard our talk with Greek quotations. itance.

seem to reading the verdict of modern English society delivered by anticipation two thousand years The section ends with earnest advice to all." Especially such trades as minister to mere appetite or luxury cooks . satisfied with his profits. education. is be iso- lated from the duties of social but a kind of un- couth churlishness. and take his place it. — the latter very deservedly so. in public able to life. men make the fatal mistake of assum. " are the professions of a gentleman. and perfumers. ing that honour must always clash with their interests . after all. such a man be We ago. —butchers. and suchlike." — so it is each citizen's duty to leave his philosophic seclusion of a cloister. unless sists it is but a poor and imperfect busi- proceeds into action.* and sale business. Eut if chant. if it life. shall leave the seas and - from the harbour step into a landed seems justly deserving of praise. especially importation and exportation. Tax-gatlieras ever is tained their ground amongst us moderns. But medieven wholethe mer- cine. but in upholding society among men. The same practical vein is continued in the next What. fishmongers. — as " greatness of soul itself. are a man's real interests % wliat conduct will best advance tlie line of life % main end of his Generally." book. if the times stars demand " though he be number the and measure out the world.180 CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. As in no abstract theory. farming. despicable. we and " all mechanics are by their profes- sion mean. dancers. architecture. ers and usurers are as unpopular now Retail trade are told. " The deepest justice con- knowledge of nature ness. that they should put their principles into practice." estate.

" chained at ate * Most happy was that just government of Eome in earlier times. and " liberty. an important question to be discussed is the secretof influence and popularity " the art of winning men's affections." For to govern by bribes or by force is not really to govern at all and . to secure the favour of the gods is by upright dealing It is labour and next to the gods." is " no force thinking again of Cifisar) have but a short-hved reign . influence and authority amongst his fellow-citizens. harder when let loose than if she had never been all. not by knavery and underhand dealing. by legitimate means. we must win men's we must deserve theii' cunti- argument." much to men's happiness as men and co-operation which have given us all the goods which we possess. Since. works upon the principle that the highest life is the political life. Cicero. then. and most formidable enemy. " they would obtain their ends best. and moderwhen she was " the port anil refuge for princes and nations in their hour of need. but by justice and integrity.' — 18! while in reality." Three requisites go to form that popular character which has a love." The right is identical with the expedient. bites when she has been chained up a while. just influence over others . how.— TREATISE 'OX MORAL DUTIES. " The way . also his man is the best friend to man. throughout the whole of this whether consciously or unconsciously. and * It is curious to note that the highest object a man can set before him is the obtaininc. no- thing contributes so themselves. no obedience based on fear can be lasting of power can bear up long against a current of public Adventurers who ride rough-shod over law (he hate. . says Cicero.

when I was just your age. built." —Tennyson : ' In Memoriam." I translated [One wonders whether young " Marcus took the in hint. repaired. security of property he holds to be the security of the state. There must be no playing with vested to bring all no unequal taxation."* Then follow some maxims which show how The thor- oughly conservative was the policy of our philosopher. is thinking of the baits held out by for none of those traditional devices winning favour Avith the jDeople. we must inspire them with an admiration for our abilities. another come and enjoy the fruits of it And feels as a man in should be careful of the interests of the social body. descending to But Cicero he is that such questions somewhat losing sight of " his dignity as a moralist. so he should be of his own. What there. and CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. no cancelling of debts and redistribution of land (he Catiline). to "in Xenojjlion's Q^conomics —a book from which.' .182 dence. there are gentlemen sitting on the " Not being less but more than all The gentleness he seemed to be. rights. You his will find all this thoroughly discussed." he says son." he asks. The shortest and most direct road to influence is that which Socrates recommends real " for a man to be that which he wishes men to take him — for. which tend to destroy that social concord " and unity which make a commonreason is wealth. the Greek into Latin.] And if you want instruction money * matters. when I have bought. shall and laid out much " % money. " why. no attempt things to a level.

more than in any of his other phi- of the losophical works. truth than the maintainer of a system. that his own heart is in time the world of public life. way? Or rather. ment and declares ." will teach 183 you much better than the The Cato's. Cicero always generally contriving at the same time to make it plain. as he does here. not real. And with is all his respect for the nobler side of Stoicism. which shackles of dogmatism." lietire. though he says modestly that he was never able in his own case quite " I am never less idle than w^hen I am to realise it — idle. But at least it gives him He " has written more in this short time. Cicero inclines to the teaching In the others." all the years during which it He here seem resolves the question.TREATISE 'Oy MORAL DUTIES. it all a great to^'this many : questions of casuistry." But it is never to his hin- drance for a violation of his conscience all. If to give if is honour and interest which is resolved abeady been to clash. solitude are excellent things. hindrance. . he fully alive to its de- . and never less alone than when alone. the opposition the right be always the exHe puts seeming. since the fall of the Commonwealth. but amounts it the good man keeps his oath.' Exchange who philosophers. '' though were ^ to his own . ' His is the '—the spirit critical eclecticism of the Xew Academy fights against the so prevalent in our own day. would be the greatest hindrance of In this treatise. he is rather the seeker after Stoics. for writing. it has pedient. than in stood. last book opens with a saying of the elder which Cicero much admires.

— 184 fects ." * Yet. in spite of this. And in themselves seek virtue. — to God give none . throughout places. Rather accuse under usual names. protesting in their day agaiust that selfish profligacy which was empire. all of the j(^ul they talk. Fortune. the point wherein that great system really failed — tlie " philosophic pride " which was the besetting sin of all disciples in the school. such earth in a corrupt age . \ Macanhiv. / and the fastidious do we find these ''moidvs of heathenIdom. or Fate. CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY.u'n('<l. too. their high principles were not always consistent with their practice (alas ! whose Cato may have ill- used his slaves. and * Piiradiae Re." as the Stoics have been not uufairly called. sneer "t — Buckingham forgot to so. from Cato to Seneca : " Ignorant of themselves. Him and men were as the salt of as we find. as Mil- ton saw after him. fast sapping (as all morality in the Roman No doubt Mr Lecky takes are ?) . though it was not given to him to see. and his courtiers Tillotson declaiming from the pulpit in such stirring accents that " even the indolent Charles roused himself to listen. but anry .^. and to themselves All glory arrogate. great preachers de- nouncing wickedness in high ears of Louis — Bourdaloue and — Sherlock and Massillon pouring their eloquence into the heedless XIV. . the the more modern pages of history. of Much ****** God much more. as one regardless quite Of mortal things. Sallust may have been rapacious. care to tell us).

Persius concludes his Satire on the common hypocrisy of those prayers and offerings to the gods which were but a service of the lips and hands. let us offer sense but not the beauty: — to the gods that which the debauched sons Messala can never bring on their broad oi great chargers. The Unknown God. so far as they might. sound even now of the inspired writings.THE STOICS. " 185 Seneca wanting in personal courage. whom they iguorantly worshipped as the Soul or Eeason of is— in spite of Milton's strictures the Let us beginning and the end of their pliilosophy." " Men should act according to letter of their "AVouldest thou propitiate the gods? he has worsliipped tliem sufficiently It Ee has good : who was from a Stoic poet. and in " that liideous carnival of vice" to have kept themstlves. from Epictetus. and " (so the original passage concludes) is "we we alone It possess a voice. like fragments from Marcus Aurelius. then. . in words of which an Enghsh rendering may give the " ^ay. is which the image of reason. though they might not attain to it themselves. Aratus. that St Paul quoted the great truth which was the " For we are also rational argument against idolatry imitated tliem. listen for a — moment to their language. and not according to the faith. unspotted from the world. " Prayer should be only for the good. the World. Yet it was surely something to have set np a noble ideal." — His offspring. Passages from Seneca." the spirit. Certain it is that no other ancient sect ever came so near the light of revelation." find in another poet of the same school that all what are perhaps the noblest lines in Latin poetry.

the for. here before such men uncon- was a form of the spirit of the Cross self-surrender. : . Decii. in their remarking how thoroughly. says a modern whose legendary and historic heroes could thrust their hand into the flame. " then go back to torture and certain death themselves by solemn self-sacrifice . breast —a wherein the laws of God heart pure to a its and man inmost depths. of which last only a few fragments 3. Let me but these bring these with nie to the and I care not though my offering be fit a handful of corn.— 186 a CICERO'S PHILOSOPHY. ' and on national systems of legislation De Jure Civili'. De Legibus a discussion on Law ' : — . a dialogue on Government. sense of altar. and see it consumed without a nerve shrinking ." With grand words. exist. they represented the moral force of the nation flourished . unconquerable fidelity to duty. or come from captivity on parole. and among whom they preacher. Sermons. The world must bow sciously." * * F. precursors of a purer creed to come. we may take our leave of the Stoics. sacrifice for others. soul —a blended. Robertson. i. His historical works have all perished. 'De Republica'. are — ingrained with noble honour. 218. even majestic egotism. advise their countrymen against a peace. or devote like . a nation. W. Portions of three treatises by Cicero upon : Philosophy have come down to us 1. founded chiefly on the * Republic of Plato 2. Political ' ' in the abstract.

CICERO's RELIGION. and there was notliing belief. however. It is difficult to separate Cicero's religion sceptic. In both he was a hut in the better sense of the word.CHAPTER XII. like the rest. The treatise takes the form. to take its place. no sneering or incredulous but in that of a must remember. place at the house of This is supposed to have taken Maximus Velleius. We hardly take higher ground than that of the sceptic. ' but leaves his own quite undefined. as His religious so far we can gather it. of an imaginary conversation. — who are Ealbus. . —an office Aurehus Cotta.^ from Ms philosophy. then Pontifex which answered nearly to that of Minister of religion. acts. In the speculative treatise which he has left us. in justice to him. that an earnest -minded man in his day could reverent inquirer. On the Mature of the Gods/ he examines all the current creeds of the day. The other speakers and Cicero himself. was rather negative than positive. The old polytheism was dying out in everything but in name. in His search after truth was spirit.

speaking about the gods. with their Soul of the woild and- Providence. are entirely wroug . is still. They are in human form. the . to light up and decorate the world 1 If it was to supply better accommodation for himself. as from pain and death. then he must have dwelt of choice. incapable of our free . these very attributes imply that they should be wholly from the cares of business— exempt ffom labour. ""Wliat should induce the Deity to perform the functions of an ^dile. There are gods that much. Velleius first sets forth the doctrine of his master Epicurus . says one of his opponents. belief of mankind in all ages But that they should be the laborious beings which the common systems of worlds. The popular mythology their pervading \ mere collection of fables. character of moderator than of disputant. with as much apparent intimate knowledge " as if he had just come All the speculations of straight down from heaven. more strictly philosophical between the different schools. why should he have chosen to be without them so long?" No the gods are immortal and happy beings and — . him pleasure. in the If such improvements gave darkness of a dungeon. — that they should employ them- selves in the manufacture — is manifestly Some of this argument ingenious. as in the The debate dialogues. the universal sufficiently establishes. he assures the company. absurd. palpable a errors.188 rather in tlie CICERO'S RELIGION. but of an ethereal and subtile essence. disciples of Epicurus alone are right." previous philosophers other — — which he reviews one is after the are. up to that time. is of theology would make them. Plato and the Stoics.

" He could not believe that the Deity has the outward shape of a man.— *0S TJIE XATCRE OF THE GODS. but to deny it in fact. but desires that Balbus would state his views upon the question. yet the schoolboys. on their holiday. Velleius compliments his opponent on his clever Stoic consents argument. that he is a shadowy who shows no favour and confers no benefits on any. and. that he has all the members of a man. no gods What reverence. 'tis the very Is idleness the divinest life ? heaven of schoolboys cludes. careless of mankind. they " Sit beside their nectar. are evi- . at The . proceeds all to prove (what neither putant has at denied) the existence of Divine beings of some kind. . gods in word. passions or desires. 189 Happy in their own perfect wisdom and virtue. cares for nothing this is to allow his existence of the and does nothing. good or ill? " Why. he con- what the Stoic Posidonius is Epicurus true — " He said of your master believed there Avere no gods. and what he said about their nature he said only to avoid popular odium. as well say there are Be these your at all. ." Nay." Cotta —speaking what in behalf of the New Academy gods. Universal belief. or fear can men have of beings who neither wish them. well-authen- ticated instances of their appearance to men. dis- some length. employ themselves in games. without any solid essence . nor can work them. Epicurus? controverts these views. what love. and of all the fulfilment of prophecies and omens. without the power to use them transparent being.

and i. and so on. and not by chance. wdiich from a poetical imagination has since become an historical incident . on the argument from design. as is he is a national priest by vocation. one to the Sea. Pontifex. ch. does the harmonious order of the world bespeak an intelligence within. Theol. — He but. of which so much use has been the made by modern finds a theoh)gians. fragmentary. Much his con. we believe that hour shown thereon by art. which gives one god the Earth. the Stoics than with those of the Epicureans. the shepherds who see the ship Argo aplife. He dwells much. Deor. believes that there are gods cu>. " when we the see a dial or is a water-clock. clusion is But that the Universe itself is is the Deity or that . one to Fire. coming to the dis- and philosophical observer. to in The very form all of the universe —the sphere— to is the most perfect of forms." * He gives also an illustration from the poet Attius. and therefore suited embody the Divine. . He furnishes Paley with the idea for his well-known illustration of man who watch . 34.sion as a dispassionate . of tbat sect in philo- sophy which makes doubt its creed resumes his obHe is no better satisfied with the tenets of jections. Paley 's Kat. book is he finds such proofs as are offered of their existence insufficient. is fact a distorted version of this truth. ])roaching take the new monster for a thing of as the Mexicans regarded the ships of Cortes. too.190 dences of tlieir CICERO'S RELIGION. * But this third ii. more. the Deity the animating Spirit of the Universe and that the popular mythology. Tlien Cotta — wlio though. existence. he argues. De Nat.

you say. The gods have given man reason. is the retort of Diagoras. if these difficulties had not arisen ? May we not argue still more strongly in the case of the gods ? The fault. as it would always be easy to examples of this from all history the most telling and original. Cotta professes throughout only to raise his objections in the hope that they may be refuted is . not of the gods. " of men." He sees. a curious tradition. that these portions Avere carefully torn out by the early Christians. but his whole reasoning destructive of any belief in an overruling Providence." you say." The laws of Heaven are mocked. we should answer.' the continuity of Cotta's argument is 191 broken by conThere is siderable gaps in all the manuscripts. crimes aie committed. them it would seem would have asked your help. even in ridiculous. " the ungodly in prosfaculty as Who perity. or the pilot of the fury of the tempest Though ! but man these are but mortal men. because they might prove too formidable weapons in the hands of unbelievers. it is said puzzled by that insoluble mystery — abuses the gift to evil ends. who was called the Atheist. lies in the vices of men. and " the thunders of Olympian Jove are He quotes. 'Oy THE NATURE OF THE GODS. He confesses himself the existence of Evil in a world created and ruled by a beneficent Power. : . As though the physician should complain of the virulence of the disease.. perhaps. when they showed him in the temple at Samothrace the votive tablets (as they silent. " This is the fault. But you should have given men such a rational would exclude the possibility of such crimes." quote. as David did.

and no conclusion as to the points in question." he says. 5. who is the narrator of the imaginary confer- Aence. have some falsehoods attached to them which have so strong a resemblance to truth." was his reply " but where are those commemorated who were drowned 1 " resolution of the diffi- The Dialogue ends with no culties. be- hold here the gods ! how many " liave been saved by prayer to . f * Cicero's Deor. prol)ability is tlie very guide of life. thou that deniest a Providence. was the great tenet of the school which he most that probability was the nearest approach that " We are man could make to speculative truth." — Introd. that in such cases there is no certain note of distinction which can determine The consequence of which our judgment and assent. to Butler's Analoiiv.192 CICERO'S RELIGION. " to whom there seems to be no such thing as truth but we say that all truths . Cicero. of scepticism in religious De Nat. seen in some foreign churches now) offered by may be those shipwrecked seamen who had been saved from drowning. gives it as his opinion that the arguments of the ^Stoic seemed to It him to have " the greater probability. . that there are is many things probable . :ispect [t yet they have so grand and glorious an life that a wise man governs liis thereby. " Yea. and although they are not subjects of actual perception to our senses. t "To us." * remained for one of our ablest and most philoso- phical Christian writers to prove that in such matters probability was practically equivalent to demonstration. own form i. not among those. " Lo." affected.

De Nat.' apparently a continua- tion of the series. tlie longer I meditate it on the question. and takes himself the : He destructive side of the argument but whether this was meant * to give his Deor. AVhen the king.' replied he. asked a day to consider of it. Simonides requested two days more . instead of giving any answer. which only a portion has reached us. when he went on continually asking double the time. "If you ask me what the Deity or what his nature and attributes are.'"* The position of Cicero as a statesman. 22. and also as a member of the College of Augurs. is i. required from him and tlie answer. into the mouth of the Epicurean.'Oy THE yATCRE UF THE GODS: matters is 193 strik- perbaps very nearly expressed in the ing anecdote which he puts. \ There is a third treatise. the more obscure does appear. own real views on the subject. N . no doubt checked any strong expression of opinion on his part as to the Ibrms of popular worship and many particulars of In the treatise which he intended as popular belief. in this dialogue. of a discussion of A. C. iJecause. who. auguries. dreams. It the difficult questions of Fate and Free-will. on the next dpy. I should follow the example of Simonides. voL ix. in some sort a sequel to this Dialogue on the Mature ' of the Gods ' — that upon ' Divination ' —he states the arguments will. Hiero in amazement ' demanded of him the ' reason. ' De Fato.t and against the national belief in omens. and such intimations of the Divine for mouth puts the defence of the system in the of his brother Quintus. when the tyrant Hiero proposed to him the same question. is.

and possibly In a future his opinions were not so entirely in a state of flux as the remains of his writings to seem cer- show. which. contracted to a mere speck in the distance. and still more towards discussion . He bids him look down upon the earth. as him listen they move in music of the their order. In a speculative fragment ' which has come down to us. He shows him to the a vision of heaven spheres. with such belief as he admit of would have considered the subject-matter — as a strong probability." give forth that harmony which men have in some poor sort reduced to notation. I^'or those who have . it regard to the great questions of the soul's im- mortality. and draws a lesson of the " poverty of all all mere eartldy fame preserved. so certain. -. state of some kind he must to tainly have believed — that is. or and glory. The bent of his mind. as has been sufficiently shown.' we seem to have the creed of the man rather than tlie speculations of the philosoj)lier." With ments. The course of argninent employed on botli sides would rather lead to the conclusion that the Avriter's opinion was very much that which Johnson delivered as to the reality of ghosts we cannot be —" All argument is against it. and a state of future rewards and punishwould be quite jDossible to gather from Cicero's writings passages expressive of entirely contradictory views. was towards doubt. elder appears in a Scipio Africanus the dream bids to the younger who bore his name (his grandson by adoption). known as Scipio's Dream. " by a modulation of high and low sounds. but all belief is for it.194 CICERO'S RELIGION.

made themselves. attain to these still around and never abodes gathei but after ages of wandering. in closest possible conjunction : that so our souls are /* See p. There is a curious passage preserved by St Augustin — \o from that one of Cicero's works which he most admired which seems to show the lost treatise on Glory * ' ' — that so far from being a materialist. he held the body life be a sort of purgatory for the " soul. that we are suffering some such punishment as theirs of old." shall be happy the enjoyment of everlasting those But " the souls of who have given themselves up to the pleasures of sense. escape from the body. and a long process of expiation for the wicked." We may that his creed admitted a Valhalla for the hero and the patriot. and of these.CICERO'S RELIGIOX. . flit they. the servants —who many bidding of the lusts which wait of gods upon pleasure have violated the laws — and men. living bodies being tied to dead bodies. wlien they said that men true are born in order to suffer life . The mistakes and the sufferings of human nake me think sometimes that those ancient seers. aided. at the as it were. 29. 195 and in where they life. had some glimpse of the truth. who fell into the hands of those Etruscan bandits. or benefited their country. and were put to death with a studied cruelty their and that the idea is . there is a fixed definite place in heaven. or interpreters of the secrets of heaven and the counsels of the Divine mind. when they the earth. face to face. the penalty for some sins committed in a former which we find in Aristotle.

The words of Petrarch are many which might be quoted truth. were better to be chosen than an immortality of sin it is % ." But whatever if miglit have been tlie theological side.' X Tusc." duty." t the jiath to heavem and into yon assembly of those who have once lived. is true. 2. rather. ever for the and so reckon . tlie moral aphorisms Avhich meet us tone of Christian liardly too strong liere and there in his works have often in them a teaching which comes near the would fancy sometimes it was not a Pagan philosopher but a Christian apostle who was speaking " * These are but a few out of — " You etliics. but for only this thy body thou art not that which this but each man's can outward form of thine shows mind. they live who have escaped from the bonds of their flesh " Follow after justice and as from a prison-house. to less Philosophy hut his Philosophy of Scripture : here little than the Wisdom and the lo(|ui * " Interdiiin non Paganum philosophum. and now. as that not thou art mortal. shall we find such noble words as those which culans? — " One close the apostrophe in the Tus- single day well " ! sj)cnt. that is the real man —not the shape which "Yea. He is addressing himself. + 'The Droam of Scipio." in V/here. v. . re- leased from the body." i9G CICERO'S religion: coupled to our bodies. such a life is be traced with the finger. any other heathen writer. and in accord- ance with thy precepts. united like the liviug with the dead. it. : — " Strive forth. sed apostolura putes. dwell in that place. one may so express of Cicero's religion.

spiritual aspiration is 1<J7 the same greater difficulties — — only uttered is under lie as that of the Psalmist when exclaims. but we may sympathise with the old scholar when he says — " well I man for reading Cicero. " " ! One day in thy courts or better than n thousand We may may of his inspiration — not adopt Erasmus's view is or rather.CICERO'S RELIGIOX." END OF CICRRO. inspiration a word which has more than one definition. . and this would depend upon which feel a better definition we take .

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