ROMAN PORTRAITS, A POEM.
ROMAN PORTRAITS, A POEM, IN HEROICK VERSE; WITH HISTORICAL REMARKS AND ILLUSTRATIONS: BY ROBERT JEPHSON, ESQ.
LONDON: PRINTED BY HENRY BALDWIN, FOR G. G. AND J. ROBINSON, IN PATER-NOSTER ROW. M DCC XCIV.
TO EDMOND MALONE, ESQ.
[]THIS short address to you is not intended as a formal Dedication; but having long wished for some fair opportunity of doing myself credit by publickly subscribing myself your friend, none seems likely to occur more favourable than the present.
From our school-days to this hour, we have lived in a state of uninterrupted intimacy and kindness: natives of the same country, educated under the same masters, and pursuing similar studies, though we have not taken exactly the same path, both have been zealous in the cause of letters. Your labours have furnished instruction to the readers, [ii] and mine perhaps in a small degree may con⯑tribute to their entertainment; nor can I be in⯑sensible to the honour you have done me, when I reflect, that the best commentator on our greatest poet has condescended more than once to be my editor. Without your kind care and encourage⯑ment the following Work would not probably have been made publick; to your protection there⯑fore it is inscribed, with every assurance of esteem and cordiality, by
PREFACE.
[]BY various accidental causes, particularly the residence of the author and editor in diffe⯑rent kingdoms, the appearance of this work has been delayed much longer than was at first intended; but as time always affords opportunity for correction and improvement, I find upon the whole no reason to regret that the expedition of the press did not keep pace with my wish to see the task which I had undertaken more speedily completed. By this delay I had also the advantage of several judicious observations suggested by the vigilant sagacity of my editor; which produced at least considerable additions to the matter contained in the text and annotations. His patience, indeed, I have always found unwearied, like his friendship; and it gives me sincere pleasure to think, that, being now dis⯑engaged from any further kind attention to my fame, he will have more uninterrupted leisure to [iv] pursue other subjects, in which the publick may be much more interested.
Whatever deficiency may be found in the exe⯑cution of the following poem, some small merit may perhaps be allowed to the novelty of the de⯑sign; to which I know nothing similar in our lan⯑guage, unless the ingenious and learned Mr. Hayley's History of Historians, in verſe, may be considered in some sort as its precursor.
It would have been no very difficult task to have swelled the size of this volume to a much larger bulk, by multiplying citations from the ancient au⯑thors where the original materials of which it is composed may be found; but though some were necessary, I thought too many might be tedious, and of no utility. Such as are inserted, were chosen rather for their brevity, than for any other reason of preference.
In some modern productions it has been the fashion to make new discoveries in the ancient his⯑tory [v] of Rome, and to assign new motives and qua⯑lities to several of the principal agents; but the pre⯑sent seems to me to be too late a period for such investigations: they contribute less perhaps to esta⯑blish right opinions, than to shake the credit of all history, and to leave the mind suspended between assent and incredulity. In every material point, (the story of the sufferings of Regulus excepted, for which Polybius must be consulted,) I find all the best writers concur; and I could not presume to advance any bold paradoxes, when I was con⯑vinced that I should want authorities, or sufficient ingenuity, to support them. A French writer of the present century, M. de St. Foix, in his account of the streets of Paris, aſſerts roundly, that our kings, Edward the third and Henry the fifth, were cowards; and I think, adds, were defeated at Cressy and Agincourt. He meant no doubt by a violation of truth to flatter the vanity of one nation, and to mortify that of another; but I could not be in⯑duced [vi] by the love of novelty to affirm that Sylla was not cruel, or that Julius Caesar was unmerciful.
I cannot forbear to flatter myself, that the reader will not be disappointed, should he not find in this book what the author never intended it should con⯑tain. It does not come within the province of poetry to attempt deep political disquisitions, or the adjustment of points which have fruſtrated the con⯑jectures of the critick, and the antiquary's perse⯑vering researches. As to the policy of the Romans, the penetration of Montesquieu has left little for future investigation; and there are even in our own language details of the events sufficiently copious and satisfactory. But to understand the history of Rome, it is not enough to read her historians; we must also acquaint ourselves with their characters: otherwise we may pay the same deference to the misrepresentations of Dion, and the prodigies of Plutarch, as to the authenticity of Salluſt, Tully, and Tacitus.
[vii]What is to be found here, is not intended for the master, but the student; it is meant rather to in⯑cite, than to satisfy. My purpose will be answered, and my ambition gratified, should it awaken in the young mind a laudable desire of more knowledge, and revive not unpleasingly in the breast of more mature scholars the recollection of those admirable writers, and illustrious characters, who claimed their attention in their early studies; the reverence for whom seems to increase, like the magnitude of mountains, in proportion to our distance from them. A great object approached too nearly can be but par⯑tially examined; at a due removal from it we dis⯑cover all its sublimity.
I may presume it will not be necessary to make any apology for opinions expressed in several notes, where modern politicks and recent events are as⯑similated with ancient. Mine have been dictated by real admiration of, and reverence for, the most excellent constitution, and the happiest form of government, that ever regulated human affections [viii] and conduct. During the short prevalence of French superiority,* which was attended with the dispersion of the most noxious and abominable principles, it seemed to me next to a tacit appro⯑bation, not to endeavour to expose them. To hazard the demolition of the august fabrick of the British Constitution, in attempting to remove some trifling abuses which may adhere to its surface, would be like the wisdom of pulling down St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey, because a few swal⯑lows happened to plaister up their nests against the corners of the windows. Minute inspection is re⯑quisite to discover them; and how pitiful must be the genius which can overlook the grandeur of the whole, to dwell upon such blemishes!
A superficial ſimilitude between the Roman re⯑publick and France in her revolutionary disorder, occurred so frequently, that not to perceive it would have been blindneſs, and not to have some⯑times expatiated upon it, pusillanimity.
[ix]There is one remark not made in the notes to this poem, which ought to have a place somewhere. The infidels of France, when exalted into the seats of legislation, began with a policy directly oppo⯑site to the practice of every other state pre-existent to them. They commenced by taking off from hu⯑man appetites all restraint from religion; and of course they dissolved with the ancient form of go⯑vernment, every bond upon conscience, and every obligation to virtue. The consequences have been correspondent. Let me not be suspected to be a favourer or friend of the old constitution of France, for I think nothing could make it appear tolerable, but the anarchy by which it was succeeded; yet even this they attempt impudently to varniſh over by false names, and perverted examples. Alas, good Brutus! we have heard thy virtuous spirit, thy mild genius, appealed to, for the sanctification of every crime which can stain the black catalogue of human villainy. France has made thee the patron, the tutelary God of atheiſts and regicides; [x] and thy fair name is invoked to reconcile the world to oppression and cruelty, to robbery, parri⯑cide, treachery, and massacre. Caesar would have fallen by some other hand, could'st thou but have foreseen that such disgrace was reserved for thy memory.
In June, 1793, look at the picture of French de⯑mocracy, as displayed in the masterly colouring of Mr. Pitt, before the House of Commons of Eng⯑land:
Lord Mornington's speech in the same assembly, on the 21st of January, 1794, will always remain as a monument of that nobleman's great abilities and eloquence, and as a faithful report of GOD's dreadful visitation of a vast kingdom, which has re⯑peatedly dared to blaspheme his name, and abjure his worship. Our countrymen may there see the [xiii] rebellious subjects of the late most christian king crowding into a period of less than one short lus⯑trum, more impiety, oppression, cruelty, rapine and massacre, than can be found in the aggregated enor⯑mities of all the rest of Europe for a series of cen⯑turies. ‘Cedite Romani scriptores, cedite Graii!’ Your Dionysius, your Pisander, Tiberius, Nero, Caligula, Domitian, Caracalla, and Commodus, must retire to the back-ground of the picture, and yield an abominable pre-eminence to our more flagitious neighbours. The crimes of these tyrants were chiefly the offspring of frenzy, the guilt of the Gauls is deliberation and system.
France has been for four years with little inter⯑mission deluged with such torrents of native blood, that in some measure they have diverted our atten⯑tion from concerns less affecting; and the perni⯑cious effects of her guilt and frenzy spreading to every country in Europe, we have not even the melancholy consolation to reflect that the conse⯑quences [xiv] of her wickedness are confined to its authors: yet what friend to genius but must read with affliction the tardy measure of the Convention decreeing, for the first time, in 1793, an imprisonment of two years against the future despoilers of the monuments of the arts dependant on the national property? What devastation must not have pre⯑ceded it! We have seen their churches defaced, the noblest statues and monuments of their kings and heroes pounded in pieces, and the GOD of the universe proscribed from their constitution, by acts of state and decrees of their legislators. Not even the grave has been sacred. Like the Pyrennean wolves described by Thomson,
They want no Huns or Visigoths, no Scythians, or Saracens, to cast them back to the ages of dark⯑ness and barbarity; for they renew upon them⯑selves [xv] the ancient fury of the Atillas, the Gense⯑ricks, and the Omars. To the accumulated hor⯑rours of their condition is superadded the internal war of religion against atheism, while men who ſight for their faith, freedom, and property, by these monsters, audacious in their language as their actions, are called villains, enthusiasts, and madmen. How long the Ruler of all things may be pleased to suffer them to insult his providence, and to afflict his creatures, we cannot presume to conjecture; but of this we may be certain; though divine venge⯑ance may wink, it will not sleep for ever: the bolt is but held back, to come down with double wrath, when it descends to crush them.
As to the merit of this work, I am too well ac⯑quainted with the disqualifications an author lies under, to presume at offering any leading sentiment to the judgment which the publick may be pleased to form upon it. I will only venture to affirm, that it was no very easy matter to give an air of dis⯑crimination [xvi] to so many different characters of men, who, being of the same country, living under the same laws and customs, and moſtly educated in the same manner, must have among them some strong and common features of resemblance. Without departing from the authority of ancient historians and biographers, who seem to me to be the best, if not the only guides on such subjects, I have endea⯑voured to produce this variety; but with what success the reader must determine. We often find indeed much discrepancy of opinion in the ac⯑counts given by contemporary writers of the great statesmen and generals who lived at the same time; but by discovering to what party each writer ad⯑hered, or what principles he espoused, we general⯑ly have sufficient grounds for abatement of praise or censure. In this manner we must endeavour to reconcile Tully's adulation of CAESAR in the Senate, and the private sentiments which he expres⯑sed of him in the closet. As Cicero always speaks from reflection, he frequently writes from feeling; [xvii] so that we can sometimes form a better judgment of the state of his mind at the moment, than of the subject on which his familiar pen is employed.
Tacitus with his usual brevity asserts his imparti⯑ality sufficiently, when he tells us that he writes of men "nec beneficio, nec injuriâ cognitos;" and after all, this is the best security for truth: through the mists of resentment or interest, she is always seen obscurely.
There will be found in the following poem a few rhymes which modern custom, more perhaps than reason, has brought into a sort of disuse; I mean, where the terminating word of one line in a couplet chimes only with the last sound of a poly⯑syllable in the next; as are and similar, &c. but I must acquaint the critick, that this is not the effect of necessity, but choice. We have not improved upon the rich and various versification of Dryden; and to produce authorities from his practice would be to transcribe little less than a third part of his poetry. Pope, who is supposed to be rather more [xviii] exact, is somewhat more sparing; but he frequent⯑ly indulges himself in this practice, and always, if I am not mistaken, with evident satisfaction. It recurs perhaps too often in the elder poet, and more judiciously in his admirer; for a mode of versifying adopted for variety loses its effect by too much repetition. Rhymes strictly correct are per⯑haps indispensable in very short compositions, or in such as Mr. Addison in his preface to the Georgicks calls, with simplicity enough, "a copy of verses;" but not even in these should I wish to see a vigorous expression weakened, or a thought maimed, for any compensation the ear could receive from the most exact consonance. Licentia sumpta pu⯑denter can never appear objectionable; and this a good taste only can regulate. Rhymes, which al⯑most constitute the essence of French poetry, in ours are but an adjunct; and yet to what shifts, what poor expedients, to what identity of sounds and terminations, are not the best versifiers of France often reduced? Take the piece in disorder from [xix] the frame, and the poetical texture will be no more discernible: we shall not find, as in Ennius, disjecti membra poetae.
One short argument upon this point appears to me to be irrefragable. He is always considered as a good reciter of rhymes, who in his recitation hardly suffers the hearer to perceive them. Why it should be requisite for the poet to produce what it is a merit in the reader to conceal, I know not. It is something almost superfluous; like the present fashion in dress, of wearing fine lace-ruffles under the sleeve of a coat which very nearly covers them. The late Mr. Quin, whom I have heard recite, though not upon the stage, and Garrick, who was consummate in the science of enunciation, would have turned away with dis⯑gust or pity from the repeater of verses who let them know that they were such, by the mere rat⯑tling of the metrical faggot.*
[xx]If this licence be not in a certain degree allowable, I may at least observe that it is mostly reprehended by the fastidious, and best admitted by more libe⯑ral scholars. Swift, who was a poet as he was a par⯑son, rather from resolution than choice, is par⯑ticularly rigid about rhymes, and sometimes remonstrates with Pope upon his negligence; but much as the latter feared or respected him, I do not recollect that the nightingale paid much attention to the admonitions of the raven. A great wit sometimes makes but a subordinate poet. Swift, I think, was both.
This mode of arguing, I am sensible, might be pushed much beyond my meaning, to the entire suppression of rhymes, and to the preference of the blank song upon every occasion. But not so; I acknowledge that they give a great grace to every species of poetical composition, except the Drama⯑tick, Epick, and mock Heroick, in which last the effect is much heightened by misplaced pomp, and [xxi] ludicrous dignity. All I mean to contend for is this; that very precise rhyme being not always easily found, the judicious critick will not endea⯑vour to make that more hard which is in itself suf⯑ficiently difficult, and will suffer any other beauty in a couplet to atone for some deficiency in the exactneſs of consonance. Let it be a pilaster, but not the prop of the building.
What may be the reception of this poem, however anxious I may be concerning it, I cannot foresee. Every purchaser of a book buys at the same time his right to judge of and to censure it; praise too in general comes but unwillingly, and not to be pleased is considered by many as a mark of superior dis⯑cernment. If however it meets with half the ap⯑probation from the publick, which it received in the manuscript, I shall have reason to be contented. It would still be a higher gratification to me, if I could flatter myself that the form of the present work might suggest an idea to some author of [xxii] better endowments than I possess, and with more inclination, to produce to the world the promi⯑nent events and distinguished characters of England, with superior splendour. How abundant are the materials! How important the revolutions! How diversified the characters! How many sovereigns eminent for great virtues, vices, and achievements! What changes in religion and government! What wars and factions! Many of her statesmen and poets may vie with the outspread names which adorn the annals, and consecrate the muses, of Greece and Italy. I should not wish to see such a work brought lower than the accession of the House of Hanover; because, though I think that auspicious event established the felicity and freedom of Great Britain, and that her ascendency never appeared more conspicuously than at the present period, I apprehend it to be very difficult, if not almost im⯑possible, in the display of transactions and charac⯑ters so recent, to preserve candour and total ex⯑emption from party prejudice. We have seen [xxiii] controversy spring up, and not without acri⯑mony, even from the ashes of queens Elizabeth and Mary.
In my childhood, I remember well, the first im⯑pressions which I received with any permanency of parts of the English history, were from the historical plays of Shakspeare. There is no young mind so unmusical, as not to be sensible to the harmony of numbers; and there is little doubt but that such a summary as is here recommended, if executed with brilliancy, would not only be the best vehicle to communicate early knowledge, but to rouse young faculties to the further pursuit of such subjects: ‘Os tenerum pueri balbumque pocta figurat.’ Even verses merely descriptive, which are certainly the most fugitive, dwell long upon the recollec⯑tion; when facts, character, and colouring, are all blended in the same piece, the picture never va⯑nishes. Old age seldom forgets the songs of its [xxiv] youth. There is a sort of mechanical reason for this, which though palpable enough when men⯑tioned, may not perhaps occur immediately: in retaining a sentiment or proposition conveyed in verse, especially rhymes, we have a double ad⯑vantage; the memory is assisted by the ear, and the ear by the memory. We know the thought must be contained within a certain number of metrical feet; and if we are at a loss to recover the one, by pondering a little upon the other, we become maſters of both with accuracy. It is not the su⯑perior merit of the poetry which preserves so many of our ancient popular ballads, but the tune and the jingle.
As to myself, the shades of night are closing too fast around me, to allow of my attempting a theme so arduous; but I may hope to retain for a consi⯑derable time faculties sufficient to make me sensible of, and pleased with, the successful labours of my contemporaries.
[xxv]It may be remarked, nor do I wish to shelter myself from the observation, that whatever little credit may be conferred by my approbation, has not been withheld in the notes to this poem from those of my countrymen of Ireland, who occurred to me as having distinguished themselves by works of genius or the cultivation of letters. Well would it be, if a spirit of this kind were more prevalent among us: much talent, which now lies smothered under the despondency of neglect, might by such encouragement be roused into exertion. The gen⯑tlemen of Ireland are jealous of the national ho⯑nour, and abundantly ready at the hazard of their lives to assert it. For such a purpose, the pen is a bet⯑ter weapon than the sword or the pistol. One book of merit would produce more deference from the neighbouring nations than twenty combats*. That [xxvi] Scotland should have to boast of at least ten emi⯑nent writers for one who appears among us, (when too the course of study and the discipline in our Univerſity are excellent,) must be ascribed to the truely patriotick attention with which the gentle⯑men of North Britain cherish and expand every bud of genius which puts forth its promise in their native region. This local partiality may be, and sometimes is, carried rather too far; but the principle [xxvii] generates a great increase of excellent publications, much improvement in science, and freſh incite⯑ment to those distinguished authors, whose works, while they reflect honour on their country, contri⯑bute to the entertainment and instruction of man⯑kind.
It is lamentable to find in such a nation as this, in many apparent respects so adapted to the encou⯑ragement of true politeness, how much its great mis⯑tress and teacher, Literature, is neglected. There are indeed in our capital some well-chosen and ample libraries; but they are very few, and very pri⯑vate. The collection of books is generally the least costly article in the household inventory. The contents of the cellar are often more valu⯑able than the [...] for the whole family. In Great-Britain, the gentry, however dissipated, sel⯑dom entirely neglect those studies in which they have been initiated in their early years; and no con⯑versation engages or interests them more than the [xxviii] discussion of works of genius, whether of their own day, or of antiquity. A person distinguished by any publication of merit ranks among them in the first class of society, and there is an emulation to protect, encourage, and produce him. "For my own part, (says lord Chesterfield in a letter to his son,) I used to think myself in company as much above me, when I was with Mr. Addison and Mr. Pope, as if I had been with all the princes in Europe." This judicious sentiment is very general among the nobility of England. But there seems to be in this kingdom (though with very considerable exceptions) too much of a kind of Vandalish pride in disowning scholarship. A gen⯑tleman here who knows much more of a new book than the title, (pamphlet and novel excepted,) may sometimes as well conceal his knowledge; for his communication will be drowned in claret, which has a better relish than such dry aliment; or he will leave an impression with his company that he is a pedant or a coxcomb. Yet it is but justice to [xxix] those very persons to acknowledge, that in their col⯑lective capacity they shew great liberality of sentiment. Though as stewards of the publick purse, they jea⯑lously examine all grants of publick money, there is no instance of an objection being offered in ei⯑ther house of parliament to provisions made for writers of merit, nay even for their families, when they are left without other support than the bounty of the nation.
The general neglect of letters is not however a hopeless deficiency; for no people have naturally brighter intellects than the Irish, nor better dispo⯑sitions. It proceeds not from dulness or insensi⯑bility, but from inattention. If study could be made more the fashion, we should see the genera⯑lity of our countrymen not less polished in their understandings, than they are well formed in their persons, and sociable in their tempers. Many of our ladies at this time, without pedantry or the af⯑fectation of science, would make a distinguished [xxx] figure in the first literary circles. Ireland has not lost all female talent with Mrs. Greville. That there is no want of native genius and science at this hour, we can produce some bright examples. We have the unrivalled and all-accomplished Burke; the learned and excellent editor of Shak⯑speare; the author of the best comedy produced in this century; and the best translator of a great Roman historian, who, till the appearance of Mr. Murphy's version, seemed to set our language at defiance: but alas! they have migrated to a more congenial region. When books become more our occupation, or amusement, all that is wanted will follow. The face of moſt things among us is daily altering, and improving; the mind in its turn will become undoubtedly the principal object of cul⯑tivation.
CONTENTS.
[]- INVOCATION. Pag. 1.
- GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE ROMANS. Pag. 6.
- NUMA POMPILIUS. Pag. 10.
- LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS. Pag. 16.
- TRIBUNES. CORIOLANUS. Pag. 19.
- DECEMVIRS. ROMAN LAWS. GLADIATORS. Pag. 25.
- ROMAN SOLDIERS, STIPENDIARIES AT VEII. Pag. 32.
- PLEBEIANS ADMITTED TO THE CONSULSHIP. Pag. 34.
- ROMAN LEGION. Pag. 40.
- HANNIBAL. Pag. 43.
- P. C. SCIPIO AFRICANUS, THE ELDER. Pag. 47.
- CHANGE OF ROMAN MANNERS AFTER THE DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE. Pag. 50.
- C. MARIUS. Pag. 55.
- L. C. SYLLA. Pag. 63.
- MITHRIDATES. Pag. 72.
- CATILINE. Pag. 77.
- CICERO. Pag. 85.
- POMPEY. Pag. 97.
- BATTLE OF PHARSALIA. Pag. 104.
- M. CATO, THE YOUNGER. Pag. 123.
- C. JULIUS CAESAR. Pag. 131.
- PRODIGIES AFTER THE DEATH OF CAESAR. Pag. 146.
- [xxxii]STATE OF ROME AFTER CAESAR'S DEATH. Pag. 148.
- M. AE. LEPIDUS. Pag. 152.
- ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. Pag. 156.
- OCTAVIA. Pag. 163.
- AUGUSTUS. Pag. 169.
- VIRGIL. Pag. 194.
- TIBULLUS. Pag. 205.
- HORACE. Pag. 210.
- OVID. Pag. 216.
- THE AUGUSTAN AGE. Pag. 222.
- ADDITIONAL NOTES. Pag. 253.
LIST OF THE ENGRAVINGS, AND DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THEM.
[]- 1. THE Author's Portrait, engraved by J. Singleton, from a drawing by—Stoker; to face the title-page.
- 2. THE VOTIVE SHIELD, commemorating the CONTINENCE of P. C. SCIPIO AFRICANUS, THE ELDER, in reſtoring a beau⯑tiful female captive to ALLUCIUS, a prince of Celtiberia, to whom she was betrothed: found by some fishermen in the Rhone, near Avignon, in the year 1656, and not long since in the cabinet of the late King of France, but now pro⯑bably battered to pieces by his Murderers.—Engraved by F. Bartolozzi, R. A. To face p. 47.
- 3. TWO BUSTS, found in the tomb of the Scipio family, disco⯑vered at Rome near Porta Capena, (now the gate of St. Se⯑baſtian,) in 1780; supposed to be the Busts of SCIPIO AFRICANUS THE ELDER, and Q. ENNIUS. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. from a drawing by Carlo Labruzzi. p. 48.
- 4. C. MARIUS, from an ancient basso relievo. Engraved by W. Evans. p. 55.
- 5. L. C. SYLLA, from an ancient basso relievo. Engraved by W. Evans. p. 63.
- 6. CICERO, from a painting by Rubens, done at Rome, from an ancient ſtatue, in 1638. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 85.
- 7. POMPEY, from Rossi's Ancient Statues. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 97.
- 8. JULIUS CAESAR, from a painting by Rubens, done at Rome, from an ancient ſtatue, in 1638. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 131.
- 9. MARCUS BRUTUS, from a coin in Dr. Hunter's Museum. Engraved by R. Clamp. p. 144.
- 10. M. AE. LEPIDUS, from a coin in Dr. Hunter's Museum. Engraved by R. Clamp. p. 152.
- [xxxiv]11. M. ANTONY, from an ancient gem. Engraved by R. Clamp. p. 156.
- 12. CLEOPATRA; the face from an ancient gem, the head-dress, &c. from a coin in Dr. Hunter's Museum. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 158.
- 13. OCTAVIA, from Museum Florentinum. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 163.
- 14. AUGUSTUS, from a coin in Dr. Hunter's Museum. En⯑graved by R. Clamp. p. 169.
- 15. M. AGRIPPA, from Museum Florentinum. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 177.
- 16. VIRGIL, from Museum Capitolinum*. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 194.
- 17. HORACE, from Veterum Poetarum, &c. Imagines, à. I. P. Bel⯑lorio. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 210.
- 18. OVID, from the same work. Engraved by R. Clamp. p. 216.
- 19. AUGUSTUS, attended by his Courtiers, and giving a crown to some person, whose figure is wanting; from an Ancient Painting in fresco, of the same size, found in 1737, among the ruins of Augustus's palace on the Palatine Mount, (now Orti Farnesiani,) and formerly in the possession of Dr. Mead. Engraved by R. Clamp, from a drawing by Camillo Pa⯑derni. p. 222.
- 20. MAECENAS, from a gem in the collection of Philip Baron de Stosch. Engraved by E. Harding, Jun. p. 235.
The portraits of CATO THE YOUNGER, TIBULLUS, CATILINE, &c. are necessarily omitted, no genuine ancient representation of those persons having been hitherto discovered.
ERRATA.
[]- Pag. 5. n. 6. r.—cum nulla.
- Pag. 16. ver. 226. for stroke, r. shock.8
- Pag. 40. n. 6. l. 11. after intrigues, a comma, instead of a colon.
- Pag. 47. ver. 665. add this note: Tibi quoque inter multa egregia non in ultimis laudum hoc fuerit. Annibalem, cui tot de Romanis ducibus victoriam dii dedissent, tibi cessisse. LIV. l. xxx. c. 30.
- Ibid. ver. 673. His foes revered him, &c. Add this note: Nihilo minor fama apud hostes Scipionis erat, quam apud cives sociosque. Liv. l. xxvi. c. 20.
- Pag. 48. ver. 682. So his soft manners, &c. Add this note: Fuit enim Scipio veris non tantum virtutibus mirabilis, sed arte quo⯑que quâdan ab juventâ in ostentationem earum compositus. Liv. l. xxvi. c. 19.
- Pag. 50. l. 5. for 621. r. 609.
- Pag. 61. ver. 870. for the, r. Rome's.
- Pag. 72. n. 4. for Hannibal, r. Annibal.
- Pag. 96. n. 4. After Note, r. [A]
- Pag. 110. ver. 1554. for ages, r. sages.
- Pag. 115. n. 5. for Epist. r. de Brevit. Vit. c. xiv.
- Pag. 129. n. 7. for Epist. r. de Consol. ad Mare. c. xx.
- Pag. 157. n. 5. l. 3. for [...], r. [...].
- —l. 4. for [...], r. [...].
- —l. 5. for 33, r. 34.
- Pag. 201. ver. 2441, for green, r. fresh.
- Pag. 215. ver. 2551, for suck'd, r. cull'd.
- Pag. 256. l. 7. from the bottom, for ingenious, r. ingenuous.
- Pag. 258. l. 9. from the bottom, for THE universe, r. THEIR universe.
ROMAN PORTRAITS.
[]GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE ROMANS.
NUMA POMPILIUS.
LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS.
[16]TRIBUNES. CORIOLANUS.
[19]DECEMVIRS. ROMAN LAWS. GLADIATORS.
[25]ROMAN SOLDIERS First received pay at the siege of Veii.
[32]PLEBEIANS ADMITTED TO THE CONSULSHIP.2
[34]ROMAN LEGION.
[40]HANNIBAL. A. U. C. 534.
[43][]
P. C. SCIPIO AFRICANUS. A. U. C. 544.
[47][]
TWO BUSTS, ſeund in the Tomb of the Family of Scipie, diſeevered at Rome, near Perla Capena, in 1780; ſupposed to be the Buſts of P. C. SCEPIO AFRICANUS, THE ELDER, and Q. ENNIUS.
Romae extra pertam Capenam in Scipienum menumento tres statuae sunt; quarum duae P. et L. Seipienum dicuntur eſse, tertia poetae Q Ennii. Liv. XXXVIII. 56.
CHANGE OF ROMAN MANNERS AFTER THE DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE. A. U. C. 621.
[]
C. MARIUS. A. U. C. 649.
[]
L. C. SYLLA. A. U. C. 665.
MITHRIDATES. A. U. C. 680.
[72]CATILINE. A. U. C. 690.
[77][]
M. T. CICERO. A. U. C. 690.
[85][]
POMPEY. A. U. C. 700.
[97]BATTLE OF PHARSALIA. A. U. C. 706.
[104]M. CATO.
[123][]
C. JULIUS CAESAR. A. U. C. 706.
[131][]
PRODIGIES AFTER THE DEATH OF CAESAR.* A. U. C. 710.
[146]STATE OF ROME AFTER CAESAR's DEATH.
M. AE. LEPIDUS. A. U. C. 711.
[]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. A. U. C. 717.
[]
[]
[]
OCTAVIA.
[163][]
AUGUSTUS. A. U. C. 725.
[]
VIRGIL.3 A. U. C. 684—735.
[194][]
TIBULLUS.5 A. U. C. 691—734.
[205]HORACE.7 A. U. C. 689—746.
[]
OVID.7 A. U. C. 711—771.
[]
THE AUGUSTAN AGE.
[222][]
Fragmentum picturae veteris in pariete factae, Romae anno MDCCXXXVII inter palatii Caesaris Augusti rudera, ubi nunc sunt horti Farnesiani, in m [...]nte Palatino repertum, in qu [...] s [...] figurae arte exquisita et nitidis coloribus sunt expreſsae [...]quarum una exhibetur Augustus ipse sedens, et coronam alieui, cujus imag [...] est abrupta, pr [...]t [...]ndens; Phraati, ut quidam non [...] augurant, fl [...]xis genibus, de quo Horatius
[...] adst [...]ntes, inter qu [...]s Ma [...]nas toga [...] indutus [...] M. Agrippa [...] dextr [...]m [...] imaginum cum [...] [...]orum [...]isque similitud [...] [...]s [...]ndit. [...] argumento, et sua ipsius description [...] ducti [...] Horatium inter sui patronos et [...] ex [...]ber [...] volunt, extremâ nemp [...]illa, corperis exigu [...], figurâ [...] daud [...].
Ex museo viri illustris R Mead. M D.
[]
Appendix A ADDITIONAL NOTES.
[]Appendix A.1 NOTE [A.] p. 96.
Middleton's Life of Cicero is supposed after its appearance to have disappointed the previous expectations of the reverend author's admirers. As it is impossible to fix limits to expectation, it is equally so to deter⯑mine whether the fault be in the work itself, or in the unreasonableness of those who profess to have been disappointed. Some without doubt would rather concur in this sort of indistinct censure, than take the trouble of examining into the grounds of it, and to such I imagine the following remarks may not be unacceptable.
It is certainly a very useful and learned work. The author shews great knowledge of ancient historians, and of Roman antiquities; and is per⯑fectly acquainted with all the different writings of Cicero, of which his account is always distinct, candid, and satisfactory. They contain in themselves no inconsiderable body of Pagan erudition. About a third part of the work consists of quotations and translations from Cicero himself; which last (he says in his Preface) he found not the least troublesome part of his undertaking. He acknowledges that the History of Fabricius, prefixed to several editions of Cicero's works, (which is no more than a bare detail of his acts and writings, digested into exact chronological order,) together with the Annals of Pighius, which he al⯑ways consulted, saved him much unentertaining investigation, which otherwise would have been necessary. The very curious work of Bellendenus de Tribus Luminibus Romanorum, (as Dr. Warton has ob⯑served) was also probably of much use to him, though he has not mentioned it.
[254]He makes an observation, well worth remembering, upon several senti⯑ments and opinions, which have been erroneously imputed to Tully; ac⯑counting for the mistake in this manner:—Many of Tully's treatises are thrown into the form of dialogues, and different parts in them assigned to different speakers, often with no other intention than that they should advance certain notions, in order to have them discussed and refuted. Careless readers, finding such opinions contained in writings under the name of Cicero, are apt to look no further, but to consider them as his; whereas they are produced for a purpose exactly opposite. Tully's sentiments are too wise not to make us wish to have them genuine.
Middleton's defect is his too great partiality for, and indiscriminate approbation of, Cicero; not of his genius and capacity, for it is impossible to estimate these too highly, but he hardly admits that his favourite had any human frailties or foibles; and in general he admires his conduct as much as his talents. It would be no less trice to expatiate on Tully's vanity, than fruitless to endeavour to acquit him of it. It is not easy to find any page where Cicero mentions himself, without being obliged to agree with Lord Bolingbroke, that his own eulogium is the topick upon which he always dwells with the greatest complacency. But though he was fond of receiving praise, we must allow, at the same time, that he was always ready to confer it as liberally. His copiousness of panegyrick and invective seems to be equally inexhaustible.
He certainly loved virtue; and was a true friend to the Aristocracy of Rome, or the government of the Senate. He shewed great attachment to them, when with a strong persuasion in his mind that Caesar would be successful, he went over to the camp of Pompey. In daring to under⯑take the defence of Roscius against the interest of Sylla, the most implacable and cruel of all tyrants, he displayed the genuine spirit of an advocate and a Roman. How vigorous was his conduct in his consul⯑ship, and how dignified in all his transactions with Antony! He met his death too from the executioner of that butcher with magnanimity.
[255]But he was not always clear from imputation in pecuniary matters: he often flatters the man he hates, and vilifies him at one time with no less acri⯑mony, than at another he had extravagantly extolled him. His nature seems to have been formed only for prosperity: the waves of adversity over⯑whelmed his spirit as much as his fortune. He bore his banishment with most piteous dejection of mind; and he sinks so under every domestick calamity, that in the condolance of his friends even a kind of disdain for his unmanly want of fortitude is discernible. His extreme sensibility induced him to think that his misfortunes were peculiarly distinguished from those of other men; and that neither himself nor the world could deplore them sufficiently. He was, notwithstanding, the most learned person of all antiquity, whose works have reached us; and had, perhaps, the most enlightened mind, the most versatile and universal capacity, that any Roman (if Julius Caesar is not to be excepted) was ever endowed with. His most elegant translator is his most rigid censurer; and I should think him most likely to form a correct judgement of Cicero, who tempers the severity of Melmoth with the panegyrick of Middleton.
Appendix A.2 NOTE [B.] p. 144.
No character of antiquity having been more canvassed, and represented under colours more opposite, than Julius Caesar, while some of the best masters have exhibited him in the darkest, I hope to be pardoned for employing a few lines to vindicate the rather favourable delineation which I have attempted of him in the verses under his title.
Most unworthy would be the endeavour to recommend his example as a pattern for the imitation of any subject who has the happiness to live under a free government; nor should he be suspected of harbouring such an intention, who declares it to be clearly his opinion that Caesar was highly criminal, not only for conceiving the design of enslaving his [256] country, but still more for the means he employed to accomplish his per⯑nicious project.
Rome, it is true, gained nothing but increase of calamities by his death, or by the resolution of that great patriot and truly virtuous Roman who conspired against him, and who was constrained by the fatality of the times to resort to a mode of removing him, moſt adverse to his hu⯑mane and generous disposition. This action of Brutus has been almost as variously represented as Caesar's character.
His eloquence, the gracefulneſs of his person, his genius and taste for letters, the engaging manners, placability of disposition, dauntless cou⯑rage unmixed with rashness, and consummate capacity for affairs of every kind, particularly for war, so conspicuous on all occasions in this daring uſurper, have been universally acknowledged.
His contemporary Tully always addresses him in the most elaborate strain of elegant encomium, and writes of him with inveterate malignity. Sallust, being his creature, describes him accordingly. In Florus, (a very beautiful writer,) we find a brief recital of some of his great achieve⯑ments, but with little comment upon them. The courtly Paterculus varnishes like a Caesarean. Wherever Caesar is concerned, the firy Lu⯑can (a perfect party-writer in verse, as has been remarked in a former note) observes no moderation. Suetonius, whose tendency seems to be vituperative, admits all his great qualifications and endowments, and rather unwillingly allows him to have possessed some good disposi⯑tions. We find in the ingenious Plutarch, removed from any personal interest in the subject, the good and the bad, as they had been transmitted to him. Dion Cassius and Appian are branded for the effrontery of their misrepresentations; and all that can be picked up from ancient miscellaneous fragments relating to this extraordinary man, is so evi⯑dently tinctured with the gall of prejudice, that it serves rather to shew how the writers contradict each other, than to assist our judgment.
[257]Among the French, Montesquieu, who thinks with most depth, and writes with most solidity, upon Roman policy, from the nature of his plan has not many opportunities of detailing Caesar's actions, or entering much into his personal character; but from what may be gathered, he imputes the subversion of the Republick to several other causes beside the dictator's ambition; and, as may be seen in a former quotation, (p. 135, n. 9.) he is of opinion, that from the superiority of his genius, let Julius have appeared when and where it might be, he must have been the ruler.
In our own language we have many Roman Histories, Essays, &c. Four Dissertations, in the form of lectures, by the learned Dr. Michael Kearney, formerly senior fellow of Dublin College, are deservedly in high estimation; but nothing I have yet seen appears to me comparable to the northern Blackwell's MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF AUGUSTUS. With the fire of Lucan, however, this able Author seems to inherit his par⯑tiality to Pompey, and inveteracy against his rival. He frankly puts him down as ready for every intended massacre; the fomenter of every sedition; and as being fully convicted of taking the lead in every plot and conspiracy against his country; where the proofs are suspicious, or at most only presumptive.—It is not necessary to go beyond notoriety to convict Caesar of gross immorality.
Though my notions of the Roman government, of their early re⯑publican virtues, and of the unexampled depravity of Caesar, happen not to coincide exactly with the opinions of this discerning writer, yet my respect for his learning and talents is in nowise abated by that selfish consideration; for I think his volumes a most animated and interesting performance, abounding with information as to the matter, full of nerve and ardour in the diction, and placing every period he treats of before the reader's view, with a masterly command of his subject. The Scoti⯑cisms, as they are called, which may be found now and then in the style, and which have given offence, real or affected, to some of our Pris⯑cians, [258] are in my eyes maculae too small to obscure the lustre of so bright a production. Yet determined as he is to find nothing but purity and excellence among the early Romans, the fratricide of Remus and the rape of the Sabine women give him no umbrage in the character of Romulus; he is not startled at the first Brutus, or the more unna⯑tural Manlius, ordering and superintending the execution of their own children; nor at the cruelty of money-lenders to their insolvent debtors; their barbarity to their slaves, the bloody pastimes in the theatre, and other enormities, from which I flatter myself it is no affectation of singu⯑larity in me to turn with disgust and abhorrence. A general taken from the plough-tail to conquer his country's enemies, and returning to it after his triumph,—a statesman planting his own turnips, and feeding upon them as his favourite fare,—present no very flattering picture of society and manners. This is what Shakspeare calls emphatically, "to make man's life as cheap as beasts."
In the early Romans we see a very fierce and warlike people, frugal in poverty, and cased round with some stony virtues, while they had no access to the means of corruption or luxury; but when these were within their reach, indulging in them to excess. When there was tempta⯑tion, they were tempted. They were sanguine, inconstant, and cruel; frequently persecuting their best citizens and benefactors; under false names and specious pretences subjugating mankind, and trying to extend their unjust dominion to the utmost boundaries of the univerſe. The dugs of the wolf were not confined to the suckling of Romulus and Remus. With all this we find among them prodigies of valour, of pub⯑lick spirit, and of private virtue.
After many pages of violent invective, Dr. Blackwell calls Julius Caesar "the most ambitious profligate" the nativities of Rome ever re⯑gistered, and this at a time when with his usual animation he is depict⯑ing the proscriptions of the last bloody Triumvirs; when surely he had before his eyes THREE Romans not leſs ambitious, and much more pro⯑fligate; [259] the whole transaction conducted with iniquity so deliberate and radical, with such a spirit of inexorable cruelty, as, like the adjudications of the present French tribunals, almost benumbs the hearers' faculties into incredulous aſtonishment.
In the second Punick war, Roman virtue was at its meridian; from which, though the ascent to it had been tardy, the decline was rapid. Caesar found his countrymen soaked and sodden in corruption, but he did not introduce it. The worst part of his conduct was during his consul⯑ship. Here he laid the foundation of that wicked greatness, the su⯑perstructure of which he hardly lived to finish. Even the execrable Sylla shewed some regard to the prosperity of his country, by four excellent re⯑gulations: first, as the constitution stood originally, that no reference should be made to the people, and no matter debated in their as⯑sembly, which had not been first canvassed and decreed by the Senate: se⯑condly, by prohibiting the division and voting by tribes; next by the abolition of the tribune's negative, his power of convening the Senate, or entering into any business which did not relate to a Plebeian; and lastly, by the disqualification of all but Patricians from being eligible as judges in any cause publick or private. But though the wisdom of these mea⯑sures is unquestionable, yet we are justified by our knowledge of Sylla's character in ascribing them to a much less laudable motive than regard for his country's welfare. The edicts by which he abolished the turbu⯑lent tribunitial power, were dictated chiefly by his enmity to Marius, and abhorrence of his faction. Every body of men, every principle, which had been favourable to the rival whom he detested, were natu⯑rally the objects of his persecution. While he was indulging his re⯑vengeful spirit, which otherwise than by the ruin of his enemy's parti⯑sans he could not indulge, he made many regulations beneficial to patricians; but these could have no confirmed operation till after he chose to abdicate; for during his dictatorship he never suffered his will to be disputed. His principal mental gratification was the devising of new [260] modes of afflicting and tormenting the unhappy people who could be supposed to retain any attachment to the interest of Marius. This is a more consistent way of accounting for Sylla's acts as a statesman, than the eſprit republicain to which Montesquieu is pleased to ascribe them.
With keen alacrity Caesar exerted himself to overturn these salutary ordinances. All his proceedings having the same seditious tendency, Q. Catulus, the Prince of the Senate, declared aloud not long afterwards, ‘that Caesar was not undermining the constitution, but storming it with a battering ram.’
But indefensible as is all this, how can we forget that he was at this time in strict junction with Pompey, who, if he did not suggest the mea⯑sures, certainly connived at, nay sometimes openly abetted, them? To support an Agrarian law, and alienate the publick revenue, this moral citizen threatened to bring his sword as well as buckler, if necessary. To say he was deceived or managed by his associate, is at best a poor palliative for his principles, at the expence of his understanding; an apology with which, above all others, that great, but vain, man would have been least satisfied. Pompey had many obligations to Cicero, Caesar had none; but they both let loose at him that monster Clodius, who seems to have lapped the blood of the Centaur, Nessus. To make this Roman Danton a more fatal implement of mischief, they agreed to metamorphose him into a Plebeian. In devising this expe⯑dient, or consenting to it, the infamy of Pompey exceeds Caesar's; the latter only intended to worry an enemy, Pompey was base and ungrateful to a friend and benefactor. Had Tully been without any other claim to his protection, the oration for the Manilian law deserved a different requital.
It is perhaps no great credit to think erroneously of Caesar with some of his admirers, with Dion Cassius, Paterculus, or St. Evremond; but if he was the worst man in the world, some of the best have taken pains to mislead our judgment; for who can rise from the perusal of Tully's [261] orations for Ligarius, for Marcellus, nay from the Philippicks, with an impression on his mind that all this incense was offered at the shrine of virtue existing only in the imagination of the orator? Had the heart of Julius been impenetrable to mercy, Cicero would not have chosen that quality which "droppeth like the gentle dew from heaven," as the sub⯑ject of so much beautiful panegyrick.
He had great vices, and great virtues. He was intrepid and humane, considerate, friendly, and bountiful; "naturá ulciscendo lenissimus," says the severe Suetonius; and he never remembered an offence or an injury when an overture was made towards a reconciliation. Before he ordered the pirates to be crucified, a fate with which he had often threatened them while their prisoner, he took care to have them first dispatched ex⯑peditiously; and perhaps he was the only gentleman of Rome, who would have listened to any dictate of humanity in the punishment of such villains.
For his own preservation he was in some measure forced into the civil war; and he was certainly ill-treated by the senate, which was rash enough to exasperate, without having strength enough to resist him.
It is not true that he exulted in ſhedding the blood of his countrymen. Lucan, who says it often in very fine verse, is no authority, though Blackwell seems to have repeated it from him: at Pharsalia, he ordered his veterans to fall upon the allies, and spare the Romans; and "miles, faciem feri!" which Florus calls "vox ad victoriam efficax," was perfectly allowable. The slaughter of his victory filled his bosom with deep regret: "They would have it thus," was an expression wrung from the sincere anguish of his heart, and will admit of no perversion.
Had Caesar never lived, Rome would have lost her liberty. Manners were so utterly changed, her dominions so extended, that the unwieldy empire could not have continued much longer under the form of a re⯑publick.
[262]When his incomparable abilities, the lenity of his disposition, his temperance, and conciliating manners, come to be fairly estimated, it is reasonable to conclude that had he lived at a later era, had the diadem descended to him by succession, he would probably have been the most wise and excellent sovereign that ever governed the empire. He was too sagacious to be perplexed by suspicion, and too intrepid to admit fear, that mean infirmity, that nidus in the bosom of despots, where so many base vices are for ever hatching, to crawl out for the plague and persecution of the subject.
The populace, and the army, were the stilts upon which Julius raised himself above the laws of his country. How cruelly they tyrannise in a neighbouring kingdom, the seat of injustice, rapine, desolation, and carnage, every day furnishes us with fresh examples. From the modi⯑fication and noble spirit of the British troops, were their numbers trebled, nothing is to be apprehended, but by the enemy. The dregs of mankind, or the mob, are pretty much the same in all na⯑tions, ignorant, precipitate, venal, and sanguinary; and any appearance of their aiming at, or obtaining the supremacy, should be jealously watched, and vigourously put down, by every friend to good order and the existence of civil society. Every historical page of ancient Greece and Rome holds out a warning, every murderous record of modern France speaks to us on this subject, with "most miraculous organ."
There is no danger from a Caesar, for who has his means, his bold⯑ness, and capacity? nor from such instruments as he employed, for we have a wise and vigilant government; but it is always a valuable occupation of leisure to examine the first seeds of revolutions, and to prevent the growth of those noxious weeds which seldom fail to spring up from them.
Such are the notions which I have been able to form of Caesar's character: if they are entirely ill founded, I know not where to diſcover fresh materials for better information.
Appendix A.3 NOTE [C.] p. 146.
[263]Prodigy is a fanciful province, from which the descriptive Muse does not wish to retire speedily. The portents which are said to have been observed about the time of Caesar's assassination offered a favourable oc⯑casion to the poetical courtiers of Augustus, to indulge their vein, and flatter the Emperor. Virgil and Ovid have accordingly described them with great force and majesty. When they both write on the same sub⯑ject, it is not necessary to say which is most excellent. Some persons of acknowledged taste have been known to prefer Virgil to Homer, but I believe Ovid was never preferred to Virgil. Yet admirable as are the verses towards the conclusion of the first Georgick, they are perhaps surpassed by Shakspeare's sublimity on the same topick in the tragedy of Hamlet.
The lines are in the part of Horatio, which being seldom filled by an eminent actor, I have never happened to hear them recited on the stage; and as they may possibly have escaped general notice, no apology is ne⯑cessary for transcribing them. Mr. Malone (doubtless for the best rea⯑sons) does not exhibit the fifth line as it is found in other modern edi⯑tions; but though I think there can be no appeal from his authority, rather than produce the passage imperfectly, I will give it as it stands in the copy which happens to be next to me:
[264] There is something wonderfully striking in the awful but obscure imagery here raised up to the imagination. Such beauties cannot be reached by the pencil.
As to Caesar's death being the cause of these phenomena, I think like Hotspur, "so would they have been, if his mother's cat had kittened." Some of the Caesarean writers wish to impress a persuasion that divine justice pursued the conspirators against Julius; most of them having fallen by violent deaths, and some by the very daggers which they had plunged into his body. That Providence should interpose in punishing the death of an usurper, and upon men, some of whom were of much better morals undoubtedly than he whom they destroyed, will not be easily reconciled to the faith of Christians; who can account better for the fate of these conspirators, by observing, that the leaders in bold and perilous enterprises are of course exposed in dangerous situations.
We cannot however affect the same incredulity with respect to a recent and striking example in the fate which has attended so many of the mur⯑derers of the late innocent and excellent King of France. Maxims, principles, and practices, of their own introducing, and a tribunal erected in iniquity and blood, have turned the edge of destruction upon its in⯑ventors. Such of them as have not fallen by their own weapons, (one re⯑gicide, and the deified assassin, Marat, excepted,) have left their heads upon their own revolutionary scaffold, after a trial, which, like that of their sovereign, exhibits the most shameless violation of every principle of justice, reason, and equity. "Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord."—From what we have already seen, and see daily, it would hardly be a raſh prediction, that in the same miserable manner every man of them will perish.
The state of Rome under Tiberius bears so precise a similitude to the present wretched condition of France, that the following words of Ta⯑citus seem like a prophetick anticipation of what exists at this moment: ‘Nos saeva jussa, continuas accusationes, fallaces amicitias, perniciem [265] innocentium, et easdem exitu causas conjungimus obviâ rerum simi⯑litudine et satietate.’ ‘We have nothing before us but acts of despo⯑tism, continual accusations, the treachery of friends, the ruin of in⯑nocence, and trial after trial ending always in the same tragick catastrophe.’—Of this single passage I have transcribed the translation from Mr. Murphy's excellent work, lately published. These volumes deserve the attentive perusal of every English reader, as he will there find the true meaning and spirit of the Roman historian, without the af⯑fected quaintness of expression, and distorted position of sentence, which disfigure former versions; and still more, because he may discover, in almost every section, the surprising resemblance between the most hideous despotism avowed, and the present chaotick French Republick, which with a throat of brass dares to call all the sovereigns of Europe, TY⯑RANTS, the king of Great Britain being included in the number.
Appendix A.4 NOTE [D.] p. 172.
Of all vices incident to human nature Cruelty is the worst, and at the same time the most unaccountable: envy, revenge, avarice, and other bad passions, rise in the mind from objects proper to excite them, and a certain degree of instinctive sense impells men to seek their gratifica⯑tion; but how is it consistent with the least shadow of reflection, with the elements of a frame endued with sensibility and feeling, to find de⯑light in deviſing, inflicting, and superintending the infliction of the most exquisite and ingenious torments? Yet this was the abomination to which the Romans were most addicted. It did not begin with, nor was it confined to, the Emperors, but long before had contaminated the lives of too many of their most illustrious citizens. A propensity so ge⯑neral must have had some cause as general.
We must consider that the Romans were more constantly than any other nation engaged in wars either foreign or domestick. Battles were [266] not decided then, as since the discovery of gunpowder, by weapons which sent destruction at a distance; but every Roman saw the wounds and death which he inflicted on every enemy. The carnage to which they were accustomed lost its horrour, and indifference to bloodſhed soon grew to be interwoven with their nature. To this must be added the savage cast of their recreations. Their pleasure resulted from seeing hundreds of the most furious wild beasts tearing one another to pieces, and devouring before their eyes human bodies thrown to them alive in the arena; and from the combats of Gladiators, who were in⯑structed to give and receive wounds with grace and agility, and to expire before them in attitudes proper for the imitation of the statuary and painter. The Romans in short, after spilling human blood in the field as their profession, went to the theatre to see it shed for their amusement. Forgiveness of injuries, besides, made no part of their re⯑ligion; that benevolent precept was reserved for a divine founder. In this manner they were trained up and enticed to be wicked, and they be⯑came as cruel as butchers, from similar habits, and for the same reason. Had equal care been employed to cultivate in their breasts the seeds of benignity and compassion, it would have been equally efficacious. The state pretence for indulging the people in these barbarous exhibitions was, that by thus familiarizing them with the sight of pain and death they became more fearless, and braver soldiers; but it only served to make them more inhuman. The emperors most infamous for cruelty, and a passion for these bloody spectacles, were at the same time not less notorious for cowardice.—Though boxing is not a science with the French as with the English, the French are certainly a more cruel peo⯑ple; and perhaps it may be ascribed to the frequency of the tortures in⯑flicted on criminals at their publick executions, which were always more numerously attended in proportion to their severity and duration. Con⯑siderable sums were given by French ladies to secure a commodious seat to see the horrible execution of Damien. The abolition of the rack, [267] mitigation of the penal code, and a more equitable mode of pro⯑ceeding in criminal prosecutions, were the only substantial advantages held out to France by the promoters of her boasted revolution: of these the first is the only one which she has actually obtained; and it is well known that this humane abolition originated with his late Majesty.
Appendix A.5 NOTE [E.] p. 187.
The government of Athens was democratical, and she stands out in the history of mankind stained with the foulest injustice and iniquity; in⯑constant, weak, suspicious, ungrateful, and sanguinary, perpetually de⯑filed with the blood of her deliverers and most deserving citizens. See them enumerated by Lucian in his dialogue against giving too hasty an assent to calumny. Socrates, Phocion, Miltiades, Themistocles, Aris⯑tides, Cimon, Timotheus, Alcibiades, and other illustrious characters, whose very names excite reverence and admiration, as a reward for their virtues and glorious achievements, were condemned by their inhuman countrymen to fines, imprisonment, exile, or death; so that every Athe⯑nian who distinguished himself in the service of his country, seemed to be warned by the catastrophe of his predecessors, that he was but accelerating his own perdition. When the excellent Phocion was led to an ignominious death, to which he had been unjustly doomed by the people of Athens, he declared that he expected no better, for such had been the fate of almost every illustrious Athenian.
The great exploits of the Athenians furnish no proof of the energy of a democratick constitution, for these were always performed when the people were led and governed by some eminent person, upon whom at the time were devolved the whole powers of the ſtate; so that in fact the democracy was then suspended. It signifies little what a government may be called, when it acts on principles in nowise analogous to its deno⯑mination. At Athens it was easily known when the people took the [268] helm again into their own hands; for weakness, confusion, and cruelty, immediately succeeded. The first display of their power was com⯑monly the disgrace or death of those very persons to whom they owed their renown and security. The treatment of Hannibal by the people of Carthage, of Coriolanus, Camillus, the Scipios, Tully, and other great men, by the demagogues of Rome, and the consequences, are well known. Repentance makes but poor atonement for ruin. During the vigorous usurpation of Cromwell, England was called a Commonwealth, and was much respected; but what sovereign was ever more absolute, or acted under less control, than the Protector? A nation entirely govern⯑ed by one man is an absolute monarchy, not a republick. The common people, who are afraid of tyrants, mistake; they are in no danger from them; indigence and obscurity excite neither their apprehensions nor their envy: the wise, the virtuous, and the opulent, are as naturally the defenders of the people, as they are the terror and the prey of the tyrant.
The insolence of Mark Antony, and the excesses of which he was so often guilty, made Tully wish that Brutus had not killed Caesar; in like manner, the friends of liberty in France, consider the Bastile as comparatively a less evil than the capricious and bloody tyranny of the people who destroyed it. Whoever expresses his disapprobation of a democracy is exposed to the calumny of furious zealots, who immedi⯑ately hold him out as an indirect advocate for despotism: but, the good subjects of Great-Britain glory in its constitution, because they know it enjoys the most perfect rational freedom that ever existed since the first institution of civil society. If every kingdom in the world were to struggle for such a constitution as the English, nay, to encounter for it the worst of all calamities, a civil war, it would not be surprising; but, that men should be found in the very bosom of that enviable country, absurd or desperate enough to disseminate notions which tend to its subversion; that societies should be formed, to hold up the bloody tablature of [269] France, under the false title of Liberty and Equality, as an object to ex⯑cite the emulation of rational creatures, is a manifestation of human ef⯑frontery unexampled before, and hardly to be credited even by those who witness it. Could all the injustice, cruelty, and oppression of French despotism, since the reign of that obdurate bigot, Louis XI. with his hangman, Tristan, be collected together, and put into one scale of ini⯑quity; and the atrocities of a single day in France, since the rabble have been rulers, thrown into the other, they would preponderate against it. It is, in short, a species of government which is always exerted to do wrong, and which can be operative only for mischief.
Men may as well go out of the world as they came into it, without observation or memory, as when the same effects are constantly produced by the same causes, to discern the last, and not to prevent the former.
The necessity the Romans were under of creating a dictator, or a magistrate without control, on every great exigency of affairs, either do⯑mestick or foreign, shews their consciousness of the defect in a divided executive: they detested the name of King, but they could not exist without his functions. It is computed that there are now in the city of Paris above ten thousand dictators, without parts, property, principles, or experience; and by these the publick business is conducted. Events are in the hands of God, and the sagacity of mortals is always fallible; but if ever the grounds were laid which threatened the duration of cala⯑mity in any state, when it was easy to foresee and not presumptuous to prophecy, the actual condition of ill-fated France seems to invite the most melancholy predictions.
Appendix A.6 NOTE [F.] p. 229.
Upon a general revision of the Roman history to the time of Augustus, it will be found to contain a series of obstinate and bloody wars, either foreign or civil, with a few ſhort intervals of peace, and these conſtantly [270] disturbed by seditions, feuds, and tumults; insomuch that the com⯑mon expedient for securing the publick tranquillity was, to direct the fierce passions of the people against some unfortunate country, the con⯑quest and plunder of which might for a time at least appease their rest⯑less ambition and insatiable avarice.
The internal commotions which commonly originated at Rome in some pretence for the people's advantage, though they produced nomi⯑nal extension of their privileges, seldom ended in any material improve⯑ment of their condition; nor had the revolutions in the state much other effect than to aggrandize the leaders, and give additional authority to the few.
By the abolition of Royalty they gained nothing; a power over their lives beyond what had ever been claimed by Kings, undefined and with⯑out limitation, passed into the hands of dictators, consuls, and other ma⯑gistrates, who exercised it always with rigour, and often wantonly. That short but frequent formula—NE QUID RESPUBLICA DETREMENTI CAPERET, delivered over at once the lives and liberties of the citizens to the ma⯑gistrate's disposal.
Whoever will take the trouble to examine the Roman annals from the first institution of the consulship to the entire subversion of the re⯑publick, will perhaps be surprised to find how frequently during that period the government was under different dictators, that is, under the dominion of a single chief magistrate, invested by the law, the con⯑stitution, and usage, with uncontroulable authority, and after the ex⯑piration of his despotick office, not accountable to the people, or to any tribunal, for the manner in which he had exercised it. Who had the no⯑mination of this arbitrary magistrate? Not the people, but another ma⯑gistrate. The object always was to keep down the people. In the se⯑cond Punick war, Livy says, they named Q. Fabius Maximus prodicta⯑tor, the consul being absent; but he takes care to have it known, that it was the single instance,—quod nunquam ante eum diem factum erat; nor [271] probably would this innovation have been thought of or permitted, but at such a calamitous season as the invasion of Hannibal.
There were, I think, about ſixteen dictators at different times in less than two centuries; so that the Roman republick was sixteen times sus⯑pended, and under a domination not less arbitrary than that of Louis the Fourteenth over France, or of the emperor of Morocco over his bar⯑barians. Had we no other information more direct upon the subject to evince the aristocracy of the Roman government, its policy profound and invariable as it was unjust and oppressive, especially with respect to foreign ſtates, sufficiently demonstrates, that such a system could not have been devised and prosecuted by the multitude; but that it was the work of enlightened statesmen, who discerned its effects by their expe⯑rience, and transmitted it to their successors in a clear collection of principles and maxims, which could never be departed from without hazarding the whole by any partial relaxation. At the intervals when the people presumed to take the reins into their own hands, the machine either stood still or went backwards; and when the chiefs of the senate resumed their functions, their vigour and wisdom were doubly exerted to restore it again to its original capacity of progression.
The TRIBUNE, that great popular officer who hung like a dead weight upon the neck of the law, was chiefly formidable by factious opposition to the Senate. When he put forth his power to do mischief, democracy, that is, confusion, was triumphant; but many tribunes being intelligent and temperate, their wisdom was shewn in acquiescence; not in thwarting the measures of their country's most respectable assembly. Besides, it must be remembered, that these disturbers had no jurisdiction beyond the walls of the city; and as the dissent of one of them rendered the pro⯑ceedings of the rest a nullity, it was no very difficult matter for the senate to secure that one in their interest, so to re-act upon them all, and to im⯑pede the impeders. The first measure of these demagogues was to instigate the many-headed monster to banish Rome's bravest com⯑mander, [272] the patrician Coriolanus: which drove him to take refuge with the enemy, to march back in the van of a Volſcian army, laying all waste before him with sword and fire to the very walls of the city; which, but for the intercession of his noble mother, he would have de⯑populated and reduced to aſhes. No defence is here implied of his vin⯑dictive resentment.
Tully the warmest and moſt eloquent advocate for the senatorial bench, at last declares himself of opinion, that the institution of the tri⯑bune, supposed for a time to be so fatal to good government, preserved Rome from unutterable confuſion and anarchy; because, the extravagant views and jarring disposition of the multitude being in some measure compressed and rendered intelligible through the organ of their officer, it became practicable either to defeat their opposition or to reconcile them, by the management of him in whom they confided as their orator and representative.
Spurius Cassius Viscellinus, the firſt propounder of an Agrarian law, which he expiated from the Tarpeian rock, Spurius Maelius, who fell by the sword of Ahala, Manlius, (another Cassius in his ambition, and his catastrophe,) the Gracchi, Marius, Clodius, Caesar, all were tyrants, or attempted to be so, not by undue influence in the senate, but by cor⯑rupting and inflaming the most numerous, the most despicable, and most dangerous part of the community. No man can love the rabble for themselves; he may indeed value them as the engineer does gunpowder, for the destructive use which may be made of it.
The simplicity of names imposed much upon the generality of Ro⯑mans, as it seems to have done upon too many modern writers. Though there was the greatest difference as to power, there was little diſtinction of titles. Caius Caesar, and Cneius Pompey, at the time Rome was completely under their subjection, were the appellations by which those great men were best known. Republican pride was not wounded on the surface, and the ear at least was little accustomed to humiliation.
[273]To the king of Great Britain, as the palladium of British liberty, the law has taken care to give every decoration which epithets can add for his personal inviolability and magisterial honour; yet titles which flow from him (those annexed to professional peerages excepted) are sometimes veils for insignificance, mere gilded pent-houses for inefficient vanity. When they are ancient and hereditary, unless disgraced by the posses⯑sors, we pay to them an involuntary respect, because they are always accompanied with some idea of superiority. A person of mean endow⯑ments, ennobled even in the most modern times, is commonly possessed at least of considerable property; and the world seems to acknowledge, that wealth gives one sufficient claim to importance. But this man of importance, with his title and his riches, can infringe no law of England with impunity, while the ancient Roman republican, like the modern French anarchist without either, we see violating all the natural and muni⯑cipal rights of his fellow-citizens with the most undisguised effrontery.
There is no subject upon which more erroneous notions have been formed, or more ill-considered dissertations published, than the Roman Constitution while under the name of a republick; but especial care must be taken not to confound two terms, Populus Romanus, and Plebes, as if they were of the same import. The former comprises the senators, patricians, knights, and gentry; the latter means, the idle, the indigent, and worthless; or what we understand by the monosyllabical denomi⯑tion, MOB.
The real government was in the senate, or rather in a few chiefs of the senate. Whoever was observed to court the favour of the populace, and to neglect the conscript fathers, was immediately suspected of har⯑bouring designs subversive of the constitution. The criterion was infal⯑lible. It instantly produced unanimity in the senate; they knew that the faeces populi Romani could be cajoled or stimulated only to create confu⯑sion, and to make the demagogue their tyrant.
With respect to the interference of the lowest order in the business of legislation, the sentiments of Cato, (that self-devoted martyr to Roman [274] liberty,) though he was sometimes reluctantly compelled to submit to it, were little different from those of Coriolanus, or of the proudest patrician who reprobated the idea with disdain and indignation. They were often employed as instruments to disturb, but seldom to regulate, and their consequence terminated with the close of an election, or the suppression of a tumult, unless a succession of shameless tribunes chose to keep them in a state of permanent insurrection. The senate were averse to, and afraid of, monarchy, not the populace. The latter loved even the em⯑perors; the former flattered them, knowing their danger, and trying to shelter themselves from it: the herd were safe, and therefore indifferent. Nero was not unpopular at Rome, till after he had set it on fire; nor was Henry the Eighth in England. But even military despotism is less into⯑lerable than anarchy, because some subordination may be expected in the one, and caprice and cruelty are for ever to be apprehended in the other.
I would not be understood to assert, that the people at Rome had not regularly considerable power; where many great offices were elective, and the people electors, it could not be otherwise; nay where their ge⯑neral sense could be collected in favour of any measure not utterly un⯑reasonable, it was generally prevalent: but they did not constitute the preponderating weight in the government; and at all times, when they got more than their proper share of subordinate influence, they as con⯑stantly made a very bad use of it. In England, where the government is nominally monarchical, in what instance has not the sense of the ma⯑jority been respected? but the clamour of a multitude is not to be mis⯑taken for the sense of a nation.
Were I to fix upon the period of Roman history in which the lowest class had legitimately the most power, I should not hesitate to pronounce (however singular it may appear) that it was for not much leſs than one hundred and forty years, from the time of Romulus to the collecting the suffrages by centuries under the sixth king Servius Tullius. The young Horatius condemned to death by the Duumviri for killing his sister, auctore Tullo (REGE) was absolved in consequence of an appeal to [275] the people. The king declined trying the cause, and referred it to two judges, to avoid the censure of too much severity on one ſide, and the inconvenience of unpopularity on the other; and so suggested an ap⯑peal from the judicial sentence: which shews the consideration in which the people were then held. Servius, the sixth king, certainly thought they were likely to prevail too much, and depressed them by changing the mode of collecting the suffrages. As to acts of vio⯑lence by hired mobs, composed at Rome as every where else of the dregs of mankind, it only proves, that they were not the government. Not only the chief power of the state, but all real freedom of action seemed to reside in the Senate, and in the persons of a few magistrates during their continuance in office. Did the statute-books or the com⯑mon law of Great Britain secure liberty only to members of parlia⯑ment, to the board of treasury, the lord mayor, and a few other magistrates, what reasonable man would affirm that REFORM was, at present, a speculation idle, unnecessary, or factious?
The consuls were ANNUAL KINGS, invested under another name with more authority than is allowed to limited royalty. Why the democratick ascendency has been sometimes asserted, may perhaps be thus easily ac⯑counted for. Writers have taken up the subject by parts, without a fair examination of the whole. Having ſome favourite syſtem to sup⯑port, or theory to illustrate, (at once flattering to ingenuity, and irrecon⯑cileable to experience,) they find a particular occurrence, or some de⯑tached passages of an ancient author, which may be accommodated to their purpose; and they build upon them some crude and hasty dogma, which afterwards is not to be relinquiſhed. Their partiality will not allow them to discern their error at the time, nor will their want of can⯑dour upon better information suffer the retraction. To every passage which can be found countenancing the supremacy of the populace at large, it is not too much to affirm, that at least half a dozen may be opposed of a contrary tendency. Exaggeration and high colouring must be expected in orations; they consitute the grace, not the substance [276] of history, and often are the work of the historian's invention; but we see the speeches of Demagogues abounding in general with complaints of the degradation and abject state of Plebeians, and with bitter re⯑prehensions of the overweening ambition and jealous tyranny of the Nobles.
But allowing this point to remain undecided, we may turn our view to another, where there is no room for misrepresentation, theory, or the fertility of conjectural inference. Behold then—"This nurse of heroes, this delight of gods," under a dictator, as described already, with a numerous army by sea and land, scourged or cudgeled by the centu⯑rion, and decimated by the general; wives exposed to divorce from the avarice, disgust, or capricious inconstancy of their huſbands; usurious creditors permitted by the law to imprison, laſh, and torture the persons of their insolvent debtors; the whole youth of Rome holding their lives at the pleasure of their fathers, who might have cast them out at their birth to perish by cold or famine; with ſlaves abounding in every family, less in estimation than the cattle of their owners; and where can be found a picture of more complete subjection and inequality? for equality beyond that of protection from just laws, is but a word which knaves utter, and their dupes swallow. Yet the commonwealth of Rome, and Roman liberty, are sounds for ever in the mouth of hypocrites or visionaries.
For the preposterous doctrine of equality in its most preposterous latitude, the example of Rome has been produced repeatedly, whe⯑ther for the sake of mischief or from ignorance, I know not: but the contest there was for the partition of distinctions, not for their abolition; not that there should be no offices of great power and emo⯑lument, but that all orders should have a right of admission to them. That plebeians should be eligible to the consulship, that they should have lictors and fasces, was the demand of the people; not that there should be no consulship, and no inſignia.
[277]But we cannot be deceived; the veil of imposition is too transparent not to be seen through. Declaimers among us mean to divert the atten⯑tion of their hearers from the blessings which they enjoy, to contemplate imaginary and impracticable perfection which never existed, and to transfer the worship of freedom's true divinity at home, to the grim and deformed idol in ancient Rome, or modern France, which assumes her name, but has not one of her attributes.
After we have looked to antiquity, or to the nations which sur⯑round us, after we have examined the states which have been, and are extinguished, after we have scrutinized unreal republicks, sketched in the lucubrations of a Grecian philosopher or a British theorist, the judg⯑ment returns homeward to repose on the unrivalled constitution of our own country; where a long succession of mature experiments has ended in the establishment of a system, in which the best faculties have been directed to two great objects, the ascertaining human rights, and se⯑curing ſocial felicity.
When we contemplate the means of happiness which Providence has been pleased to distribute so abundantly over the universe, we must acknowledge that the grandeur and superiority of the Romans were very dearly purchased. To be engaged in war, or in civil commo⯑tions, for a period of above seven hundred years, and to ſink into the most abject ſlavery afterwards, was the fate of this extolled and envied people. What a state for social creatures! as if men were sent into the world for no better purpose than to worry and drive others out of it.
Were glory the most desirable end of human pursuits and actions, Rome must certainly be considered as the first country in the universe; but if virtue and contentment are preferable, perhaps it was the last.
It appears hardly credible, yet is true, that Dr. Edward Ryan, au⯑thor of "The History of the Effects of Religion on Mankind," (a work abounding with erudition, entertainment, and instruction,) was obliged lately to publish it in London, the booksellers of Dublin not being will⯑ing to hazard the expence, where they knew there would be so few readers or purchasers of a book which required some little time and attention in the perusal. His ALMA MATER, indeed, honourably distinguished him; but his fame and his patron came from another country.
During the administration of lord Townshend in Ireland, the printer of the well-known poem addressed to Mr. G. E. Howard, with Notes by Alderman Faulkner, being asked by Mr. Courtenay, whether there was not a great demand for that publication, ‘Nothing, ſir, in the me⯑mory of man (answered with pure simplicity the worthy printer) ever sold like it, except WATSON's ALMANACK.’
Mr. Monck Mason is known and respected among his countrymen as a member of parliament, a commissioner of the revenue, and a privy counsellor; but it is doubtful whether he is known in Ireland even by one in twenty of his acquaintance as one of the learned and ingenious band who have illustrated Shakspeare; yet by that distinction is his name more likely to be transmitted to posterity.
So late as the time of the emperor Adrian, the following restrictions with regard to slaves were considered as innovations:
Servos a dominis occidi vetuit, eosque jussit damnari per judices, si digni essent.
Si dominus in domo interemptus esset, non de omnibus servis quaes⯑tionem haberi, sed de his qui per vicinitatem poterant sentire, praecepit.
Voltaire says, and he says truly, that the superiority of one nation over another may be better estimated by the superiority of its authors, particularly poets, than by its conquests, or extent of territory. Inven⯑tion, wit, wisdom, and learning, are certainly preferable to bodily strength, conſtitutional courage, and the science of destruction. How would the glory of kingdoms fade, and their reputation wither, were they to remain with the fame of their military atchievements, and to be deprived of their writers? Were the names of Homer and Demos⯑thenes blotted out from the nativities of Greece; Virgil, Ovid, Cicero, and Livy, from those of Rome; Ariosto and Taſſo from Italy; take from Spain her Lopez de Vega, Calderon, and Cervantes; Corneille, Racine, Moliere, and Boileau, from France; and—my pen shrinks while I write it—dismantle England of her Shakspeare, Milton, Dryden, and Pope, and what a mournful chasm would be left in the intellectual world! How would our present veneration for the countries which produced these immortal names subside in a moment! They are the true luminaries of the world, and mental darkness in proportion would be the consequence of their extinction. The Goths and Tartars were as great destroyers of mankind as the Romans, but they owe the celebrity of their conquests to the genius of other nations.
There is no advantage upon which Ireland ought to value herself so much as her having given birth to such men as Southerne, Steele, Swift, Berkeley, Goldsmith, Burke, and Sheridan.—The barrenness of Scot⯑land is covered by the fertile eloquence of her historians and moralists.
Notwithstanding his mean birth, coarse education, military life, and ferocious nature, Marius is always described by the Roman writers, par⯑ticularly by Tully, as a person of consummate art, great pride, and unbounded ambition. On many occasions he owed his success at home as much to the dexterity of his management as to the splendour of his name and the fame of his atchievements. In his speeches, or those ascribed to him by Sallust, may be found the substance of almost all those arguments and reflections which have been ever since so frequently employed to raise the consequence of the people, and to depreciate the nobility.
Though persons of slender pretensions to ancestry are most frequently apt to boast of it, yet we sometimes find instances of the same weakness in men of high birth and unquestionable understanding. It was well said by Lord Chesterfield of Lionel Duke of Dorset, that his grace was as proud of his family as if his grandfather had been a blacksmith.
So many states have lost their liberty by the sword, and so many are still held in subjection by it, that we naturally look with complacency and admiration to that wise and happy constitution, where this formidable engine has no edge but for the natural enemies of the country, and the foes of freedom.
Powerful as is the military force of Great Britain, it is so peculiarly constituted as to owe its very subsistence to the will of the people; who maintain it, not like other nations to be oppressed by it, but protected. In Great Britain it may truly be called the Profession of Honour. The discipline of no army is more strict, and the pay is moderate, yet mutiny is unheard of; and the British soldier is always ready to embark with chearfulness and spirit for climates the most distant, and the most perilous services. He never loses entirely his original tincture of a free⯑born citizen. It can never be forgotten, that the generous shouts of a British army at Hounslow struck the first panick to the bigotted soul of James, who vainly imagined he could make them tools to extirpate the religion and liberty they were levied to defend.
A. U. C. 675. He resigned his dictatorship the preceding year, after having destroyed above 100,000 Roman citizens, and proscribed ninety senators, and two thousand six hundred knights.
Of all the tyrants who domineered over the Romans, (Tiberius excepted) Sylla appears to have been the most detestable. In the atrocious depravity of several of the emperors, there seems to be a mix⯑ture of madness and folly, which though not less pernicious to mankind in their consequences, render the persons somewhat less accountable; but Sylla was deliberate and circumspect, and all his horrible cruelties may be referred to some motive of pride, revenge, malignity, or self-interest. He besides set the first example of systematick oppression and inhuma⯑nity. Extirpation appeared to him to be the most compendious, and, therefore, the most eligible mode of establishing his usurped authority; had there been any other more brief and sanguinary, he would have pre⯑ferred it: and as he was uncommonly brave, he had not even the despi⯑cable plea of fear and cowardice to palliate his barbarities.
No fact has been more frequently repeated by the ancient writers, or seems to have been received more indisputably, than that Mithridates had so fortified his constitution by antidotes against poison as not to be able to destroy himself by it; (See Dion Cassius, lib. xxxvii. p. 119, edit. Reimari: " [...]") but I believe there is some reason not to admit the certainty of this notion. He might perhaps have been skilful enough in the nature of antidotes to know by their application how to expel the strongest poison soon after it was administered; but by using remedies so efficacious as to keep the anatomy in a constant state of resistance to it, he must have destroyed the vessels capable of admitting infection: so that the means to prevent mortality would have been as mortal as any which could have been employed to produce it. He put himself to death by the sword, probably because at the time he had no poison within his reach; or he might have thought that manner of dying more expeditious and less painful. Upon this point physicians must be the best judges.
Mithridates put an end to his life, A. U. C. 690, the year in which Augustus Caesar was born.
Catiline seems to be almost the only traitor meditating the destruction of his country, who did not make the dregs of the people, or the mob, one of his chief instruments: his accomplices were mostly taken from the senatorial and equestrian orders. This circumstance shews the great depravity of the Roman gentry at that time, to whom the cruel and bloody tyranny of Sylla had made all crimes familiar.
Muretus has shewn from ancient documents that there were forty persons of noble families engaged in this conspiracy.
It is well known that Caesar and Crassus were suspected of secretly supporting this gang of desperadoes; but they managed with such cau⯑tion, that no accusation could be brought home against them. Tully with great prudence discouraged every attempt to involve them in the conspiracy, well knowing that nothing would be so likely to give it additional strength as their supposed co-operation.
Dio mentions this horrible ceremony in another manner:—‘ [...] DION CASS l. xxxvii. c. 30.’
Such as are fond of contemplating the many instances in which great events have originated from slight accidents, may, I think, add to the number the manner in which the conspiracy of Catiline was first dis⯑covered.—Fulvia, a beautiful and mercenary courtesan of Rome, had, among a number of other gallants, admitted Curius, one of the conspi⯑rators; who, like most of them, was profligate, extravagant, and needy. As from his poverty he was now no longer able to furnish means for her profusion, she began to treat him with neglect and coldness. Being sensible from whence this change in her conduct towards him proceeded, he threw out hints that he should soon be able to gratify all her desires, however unbounded. From the frequent repetition of such intimations, she began to suspect that they sprung from something more than the mere levity of her lover. She set herself artfully to sift him, and, by degrees drew from him the whole secret, which she immediately commu⯑nicated to the consul Cicero. It should be remembered to her credit, that when she divulged the conspiracy, she took care to conceal the name of her informer. She shewed conscience in her communication, and honour in her taciturnity.
Cicero was born A. U. C. 647; he was therefore of the same age with Pompey, and seven years elder than Julius Caesar. He was descended from a very respectable family, though not noble. In all the offices which he held, and which he acquired by his own merit, his conduct was not only without reproach, but highly laudable and exemplary. He was Quaestor, Curule Aedile, Praetor, Consul, and Governor of Cilicia. In this last post had he proceeded with the usual rapacity of Roman gover⯑nors, he might safely have plunder'd the province of about half a million; but he contented himself with his salary, and a few fair perquisites, to the amount in the whole of about twenty thousand pounds of our money: a rare instance of moderation in times of such unbounded peculation.
Professing a religion which abounded with false gods and superstition, in an age and country bewildered in omens, prodigies, and visions, observe how the enlightened mind of Tully soars above such weaknesses: ‘Haec scilicet in imbecillo remissoque animo multa omnibus confusa et variata versantur, maximeque reliquiae earum rerum moventur in animo et agitantur, de quibus vigilantes aut cogitavimus aut egimus.—An tu censes ullam anum tarn deliram futuram fuisse, ut somniis crederet, nisi ista casu nonnunquam forté temere concurrerent?—Ut mihi mirum videatur, cum mendaci homini ne verum quidem dicenti credere soleamus, quomodo isti, si somnium ver [...]m evasit aliquod, non ex multis potius uni fidem derogant, quam ex uno innumerabilia confirmant. DE DIVIN. l. ii. c. 67, 71.’
In general, the strongest testimonies to the disadvantage of a man's character are furnished by himself. Had not Cicero's Letters come down to posterity, we should have been ignorant of many of his weaknesses.
The contrariety of Tully's language in particular, when speaking to Caesar, and when speaking of him, is very remarkable. In his two celebrated Orations for Marcellus and Ligarius he has carried the enco⯑miastick strain as far as it could well go: for his real sentiments look at numberless passages in his letters to Atticus.
Itaque te plane etiam atque etiam rogo, ut et ornes ea vehementius etiam quam fortasse sentis, et in eo leges historiae negligas, amorique nostro plusculum etiam quam concedet veritas, largiare.
Illa nos cupiditas incendit, de quâ. initio scripsi, festinationis, quod alacres animo sumus: ut et caeteri viventibus nobis ex litteris tuis nos cognoscant, et nosmetipsi vivi gloriolà. nostrâ perfruamur.
Me Quintus Catulus, princeps hujus ordinis, et auctor publici con⯑silii, frequentissimo senatu parentem patriae nominavit.
Mihi togato Senatus, non ut multis, bene gestae, sed ut nemini, con⯑servatae reipublicae, singulari genere supplicationis, deorum immortalium templa patefecit.
—sine ulla dubitatione juravi, rempublicam atque hanc urbem meâ unius operâ esse salvam.
Thus happily translated by Dryden:
Cicero's being unanimously chosen Consul, when there was suspicion entertained of Catiline's designs against his country, is a strong proof that the Romans did not, like Montesquieu, consider him as less qualified than Cato to sustain a first part in the state on a great emergency.
The abhorrence so strongly expressed of a monarchical government in most part of Cicero's writings, is assigned by Middleton, with great appearance of well-founded conjecture, as the reason why the two excellent but courtly poets, Virgil and Horace, have never mentioned him. It must be observed at the same time, that Tully's conception of a monarchy was only of an absolute monarchy; of a government by conquest, and maintained by the power of the sword. Of such a con⯑stitution as the English, none of the ancients had any imagination, except Tacitus, who seems to have had some glimmering of it before him, as through a twilight.
Cicero's having been intimately connected with the conspirators who deprived Julius Caesar of his life, (as Dryden has observed,) must also have contributed to render his name extremely unpopular in the court of Augustus.
I venture to recommend to the reader the perusal of the life, or rather the death, of Crassus, by Plutarch, as one of the most interesting pieces in that author's whole collection.
The opulence of some individuals at Rome is astonishing. An eſti⯑mate of the wealth of Crassus may be formed, when we know what Pom⯑pey possessed, who was not supposed to be nearly so rich. In order to remove Sextus, the son of Cnaeus Pompey, from Spain, M. Anthony and Lepidus agreed to a composition with him for the property which had been confiscated, and plundered from the father, after the battle of Pharsalia. They allowed him, after a reasonable valuation, to the amount of five millions of our money; his books, plate, and furniture not being included in the estimate.
The superiority of Caesar's personal character over Pompey's, appears in several instances; in none, perhaps, more conspicuously than in their different conduct with respect to Labienus. He had been one of Caesar's favourite lieutenants, and always victorious when fighting under his auspices: however, he left his old general, and passed over to the camp of Pompey. Caesar heard the account of his desertion with his usual magnanimity, and generously sent after him all his money, equipage, and whatever besides he had left behind him. Pompey, on the contrary, received him as an acquisition of the highest value, and listened with avidity to his flattering intelligence of the weak condition of the enemy, till he was at last mournfully convinced of his mistaken credulity, by his total overthrow. Lucan makes Caesar thus speak of Labienus:
Upon considering the whole of Pompey's character and conduct, I am persuaded, that as he had more vanity than Caesar, so was he not less ambitious. What his admirers were pleased to dignify with the name of patriotism, and love of the constitution, or, in other words, his being more willing than Caesar to allow the senate sufficient authority, resulted less from his own disposition, than from sentiments which had been instilled into him by such men as Cato, Tully, and Brutus. These excellent persons seem not only to have directed his conduct, but to have formed his political mind. They had so often assisted him in the attain⯑ment of his objects, and had extolled him so much for his moderation, that he must have been divested of all feeling, could he have forgot his obligations to them; or had he been eager to undeserve, if I may be allowed the expression, the high opinion they had so publickly declared of him. He found it less hazardous, and more reputable, to be the first of several great men, than to be the only great man: besides, he loved approbation and good will, which, he knew, had he avowed a passion for governing singly, would have been immediately converted into flat⯑tery and hatred. That this, however, was his object, is clear from a circumstance mentioned by Plutarch in his life of the younger Cato, whom he would not trust with the command of the fleet (though he had already promiſed to invest him with it) lest he should be enabled by this means to compel him to lay down his arms, as soon as Caesar was vanquished: and Cato himself thought, that, whether Pompey or Caesar should be victorious, the event would be equally fatal to the liberty of the common wealth.
The constitution of Rome was as much subverted during the trium⯑virate of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar, as when the last ruled alone; but Cicero complains less, because Pompey made a part of it. The orator knew he had little chance of managing a man of such high views and such great capacity as Caesar. Brutus, in his letters, probes him to the quick, when he seems willing to disguise to himself, and to the world, his real motives for abetting Octavius; the chief of which seems to have been, the assurance given him by that young dissembler, that he would be principally governed by his advice and experience.
Middleton asserts, that Cicero endeavoured to dissuade Pompey from hazarding the fortune of the republick on the event of a battle, and pro⯑duces passages from his letters to that purpose; but how is this to be recon⯑ciled with his for ever complaining of Pompey's dilatoriness and inactivity? He seems to have been full of apprehensions, and to have disapproved of every thing. A man is sometimes apt to mistake his fears for his foresight. Pompey is known to have said of him, "Cupio ad hostes Cicero transeat, ut nos timeat." If he wished him not to risk a battle, what objection could he have to his inactivity? I think, but am not certain, that Cicero does not say he was against fighting, till after the unfortunate event of the battle of Pharsalia was known. However, I mean no attempt to diminish any credit due to the letters of Cicero, which certainly contain the very best materials for the most interesting period of the whole Roman story. It would have been more candid, perhaps, to have lamented his advice, than to have denied having given it; or had he confined his complaints to Pompey's conduct after his defeat, they would have been reasonable.
No age, perhaps, has produced together men of such genius and capacity as flourished in Rome at this period. This is the consideration which makes the history of these times so interesting. The magnitude of the object of contention is in some degree lost in the greatness of the contenders' characters. What a proficiency in morals and in science might not have been expected, had Caesar, Pompey, Cicero, Cato, and Brutus, united as strenuously to improve the world, as they struggled to govern it!
Plutarch informs us, in his life of Cato the Younger, that when he was Praetor, he often came to the court without his shoes, and sat upon the bench without his gown; and that in this habit he gave judgment in capital causes on persons of the best quality.
The most injurious character of Cato I have met with, and drawn with some appearance of truth, is contained in the following words of the learned Abbé Mongault.
C'ètoit un homme qui avoit plus de droiture que de prudence, qui nui⯑soit plus au bon parti par son humeur austere et inflexible, qu'il ne le servoit par son zéle ardent, mais peu rêglé. Il s'etoit fait des principes dont il ne se relâchoit jamais, même en favour des meilleurs citoyens, comme etoit Pon⯑tinius. Il ne scavoit pas ménager à la République le peu de gens qui s'interes⯑soient encore pour sa liberté. Il vouloit rappeller dans le siécle le plus corrum⯑pu, comme le plus poli, la virtu rigide et farouche des tems les plus grossiers. Il s'oppos oit á tout sans discernement, souvent sans appui, presque tou⯑jours sans succés; il usoit ainsi son credit, et perdoit en vains efforts une autorité, qu'il faloit menager pour des occasions plus importantes.
It is to be observed that the above are strictures upon the temper and judgment of Cato, not upon his morals and virtue.
The reader may now peruse the opposite sentiments of another distin⯑guished Frenchman on the same subject.
Je crois (says Montesquieu) que si Caton s'etoit réservé pour la ré⯑publique, il auroit donné aux choses tout un autre tour. Cicéron avec des parties admiraoles pour un second rôle, étoit incapable du prémier: il avoit un beau génie, mais une ame souvent commune: l'accessoire chez Cicéron c'êtoit la vertu, chez Caton c'étoit la gloire: Cicéron se voyoit tonjours le premier, Caton s'oublioit toujours: celui-ci vouloit sauver la république pour elle-même, celui-là pour s'en vanter. Quand Caton prevoyoit, Cicéron craignoit; là où Caton espéroit, Cicéron se confioit; le premier voyoit toujours les choses de sang froid, l'autre au travers de cent petites passions.
This last note on the character of Cato contains almost the whole substance of all the satires extant against Cicero.
Cicero's being unanimously chosen consul, when there was a suspicion entertained of Catiline's designs against his country, is a very strong proof that the Romans did not, like Montesquieu, consider him as less qualified than Cato to sustain a first part in the state on a great emer⯑gency.
The following summary of Caesar's character by Paterculus is worthy of being inserted:
Formâ omnium civium excellentissimus, vigore animi acerrimus, mu⯑nificentiae effusissimus, animo super humanam et naturam et fidem evectus; magnitudine cogitationum, celeritate bellandi, patientiâ periculo⯑rum, magno illi Alexandro, sed sobrio, neque iracundo simillimus; qui denique semper et somno et cibo in vitam non in voluptatem uteretur. l. ii. c. 41.
—propter eximium ingenium, summamque eruditionem; cui, meher⯑cules, hic cujus in potestate sumus, multum tribuit.
—mirifice ingeniis excellentibus—delectatur.
Caesar never display'd his great military skill and wonderful presence of mind more conspicuously than in extricating himself from all the dangers with which he was environed in the Alexandrian war. He was involved in this by his amour with Cleopatra, and it seems to have been the only instance in which he suffered his passions to get the ascendancy over his wisdom.
The two celebrated speeches of Caesar and Cato upon the sentence to be pronounced against the Catilinarian conspirators, preserved, as it is called, by Sallust, seem to me no very satisfactory specimens of the man⯑ner of those eminent orators. He has doubtless preserved their different opinions upon the question, and probably the arguments by which they were supported; but there is nothing discriminating or characteristick in either, and they are plainly the author's composition: that is, the style, manner, and construction of the periods, are Sallust's. They not only do not differ in these particular from each other, but they exactly resem⯑ble his diction every where. It may be observed perhaps of all the ancient historians who pretend to record the orations of particular men, that they make them all eloquent, and all equally so. Thucidydes and Livy abound with examples. We should consider them rather as ingenious expedients used by the historian to enliven and diversify his narrative, by not always appearing in his own person, than as faithful transcripts of orations deliv⯑ered at the time by the speakers to whom he ascribes them. Let the reader compare the two following passages from the speeches of Caesar and Cato, not only with the rest of the respective speeches, but with the whole structure of Sallust's diction.
CAESAR. Plerique eorum, qui ante me sententias dixerunt, composite atque magnifice casum reipublicae miserati sunt: quae belli saevitia esset, quae victis acciderent, enumeravere; rapi virgines, pueros; divelli liberos a parentum complexu; matres familiarum pati quae victoribus collibuis⯑sent; fana atque domos exspoliari; caedem, incendia fieri: postremo, armis, cadaveribus, cruore atque luctu omnia compleri.
CATO. Bene et composite C. Caesar paulo ante in hoc ordine de vitâ et morte disseruit, credo falsa existumans ea, quae de inferis memorantur; diverso itinere malos a bonis luca tetra, inculta, faeda atque formidolosa habere, &c.
The speech which was really spoken by Cato, on this occasion, was taken down in short-hand by Cicero's order, and was extant in the time of Plutarch. See his Life of Cato, the Younger.
This must always happen, when any form of government is demolished, before some other plan to replace it is arranged and settled. We cannot expect to find a palace magnificent and commodious in all its parts rise up at once without materials or workmen, merely because we see the removal of a building which before occupied the same place. In Great Britain, where the people live under the mildest government, and the most admirable constitution in the world, all measures for the security of liberty have been examined with great precaution, and have been rati⯑fied gradually: they are therefore likely to be firm and permanent. The lamentable condition of a neighbouring kingdom furnishes a living example how much easier it is to destroy, than to establish. That state has passed suddenly from an absolute monarchy to a kind of government which comes under no known denomination, but most nearly approaches to anarchy. There, the revolution was sudden, and the execution vio⯑lent. Time only can discover whether it will ever come to any sober settlement, and sagacity finds it difficult to predict what that settlement may be: Whatever structure may rise out of the present ruins, will be cemented with the blood of the natives. Arbitrary commit⯑ments to a fortified state-prison were undoubtedly a great grievance; they have given place to sentence and execution without trial or commitment; and which alternative is preferable? All we know with certainty is, that the grievances complained of before, are now multiplied in tenfold pro⯑portion, under the name and pretence of reformation.
Lepidus was not ruined by the vote of the senate, which demolished his statue, and declared him a publick enemy, but, as may be seen below, by his presuming to think he could control Augustus, who was too wise and too powerful to fear him.
Lepidus died in obscurity, A. 741.
Antony first became acquainted with Cleopatra, A. U. C. 713, soon after the battle of Philippi. She was then in her twenty-eighth year. After the death of his third wife, Fulvia, in 714, he married Octavia, who was then pregnant by her former husband, C. Marcellus; and after she had borne him two daughters, deserted her in 717.
It is related of Cleopatra that several of her admirers purchased the enjoyment of her favours for a single night, by an agreement to lose their heads next morning; which this queen, not less cruel than voluptuous and inconstant, never failed to have fulfilled literally.
‘Haec [Cleopatra] tantae libidinis erar, ut saepe prostiterit; tantae pul⯑chritudinis, ut multi noctem illius morte emerint. AUR. VICTOR.’The generals of the French Republick seem to share the favours of the Convention pretty much in the same manner: they are raised from the ranks to the head of armies, and very speedily afterwards conducted to the scaffold.
Antony's infatuated attachment to Cleopatra was no way abated by his marriage with Octavia, though he had by this most amiable woman two children. The gentle patience with which she endured repeated provocations and insults from her libertine husband, her maternal care of his children by his former termagant wife Fulvia, her admirable beauty joined to every female virtue and excellence of the mind, could not secure her from the most outrageous ill treatment. Intending to affront Caesar, who tenderly loved his sister, and to gratify Cleopatra, who hated her, Antony not only sent her a divorce, but a prohibition to reside in any of his houses, or on any of his estates. Her sense of this brutal ingratitude with her immoderate grief for the loss of her darling son Marcellus, broke her constitution, and she expired without arriving at old age, to the infi⯑nite regret of Augustus, and with the esteem and admiration of all who knew her. Her munificent present to Virgil for his beautiful lines to the memory of the Marcelli, has been often recorded. While the poet was reciting the latter part of the sixth Aeneid before the emperor and his sister, at the words, "TU MARCELLUS ERIS," Octavia fainted. Nor is it extraordinary; for nothing can be more pa⯑thetick and interesting than the whole preparation for this master-stroke of panegyrick, which even at this moment excites considerable emotion. The lamented virtues of her son, who really deserved the encomium, thus unexpectedly brought to her remembrance, impressed still more by the recitation of Virgil, who was remarkable for reading his own verses with harmonious energy, may naturally be supposed to have had such an effect on the tender and affectionate heart of Octavia.—How different is the picture of Augustus in this scene from that which he exhibited as a tri⯑umvir, seated between Antony and Lepidus, and marking down for the knife of his butchers the most respectable and virtuous of his countrymen!
In drawing the character of Octavia, beside the concurrent testimony of the ancient writers who mention her, I was assisted by having before my eyes a living example in a lady with whom I have long had the happiness of being well acquainted. The likeness, without my being more explicit, will be recognized by every one, except herself,—she so strikingly resem⯑bles the Roman lady, in every thing but her misfortunes. In these hap⯑pily there is no similitude; for she is tenderly beloved by an excellent hus⯑band, and has enjoyed a distinguished state of prosperity, with the cor⯑dial esteem and affection of her friends, and the grateful blessings of all who happen to be placed as objects of her protection.
On the general subject of Roman cruelty, see note (D) at the end of this volume.
We are told by Appian, (p. 601.) that Popilius Laenas, who had solicited to be employed in the assassination of his protector and benefactor, (Val. Max. l. v. c. 3.) shewed Antony from a distance, while sitting in the court of judicature, the head and hand of Cicero, ludicrously moving them backwards and forwards, and that he was so delighted with this hideous spectacle, that he immediately ordered Laenas to be crowned, and rewarded him with two hundred and fifty thousand drachmas, (807 2l. 18s. 4d.) paying the other cut-throats employed in the proscription only the tenth part of that sum.
If any thing could have been more atrocious than Antony's assassina⯑tion of Cicero, it was the baseness and ingratitude of Octavius in suffer⯑ing it. We are told by Suetonius that he for some time resisted the pro⯑scription, but that when he had once acceded to it, and it was begun, he carried it on with more severity than either of his colleagues.
‘Restitit quidem aliquandiu collegis, ne qua fieret proscriptio, sed incoeptam utroque acerbius exercuit. Namque illis in multorum saepe personam per gratiam et preces exorabilibus, solus magnopere contendit ne cui parceretur; proscripsitque etiam C. Toranium tutorem suum, eundemque collegam patris sui Octavii in aedilitate. SUET. in Aug. 27.’Julius Caesar, except in one instance, was always successful, when he commanded in person; Augustus conquered by his lieutenants.
To the great ministers, Agrippa and Maecenas, was Octavius chiefly obliged, not only for the security of his reign, but for the change of his disposition; for the art of governing mildly, for the adoration of his name and memory, and for his just title to the cognomen of AUGUS⯑TUS, conferred upon him with the approbation of the Roman people. Agrippa was a consummate statesman and soldier, and never known to miscarry in any military enterprise. The empire might almost be called his gift to Octavius.
Arts and mankind, not arms, were the study of Maecenas. Humane and discerning, though apparently voluptuous and effeminate, he under⯑stood perfectly every weakness and vice of his master's heart and temper, and the whole extent of his capacity. Availing himself of this know⯑ledge, he turned one of the young Caesar's most obvious defects, his natural timidity, into the means of his preservation, and finally of his glory. He convinced him that while he ruled only by severity, no vigilance could secure him from danger, but that by setting the example in his own person of encouraging arts, sciences, and literature in all its branches, he might by degrees soften the ferocity of the descendents of Romulus, and excite among them a competition new and harmless, which would leave to him the unmolested and unenvied possession of his supreme domination. Here he appears like the good genius of his master, employing the ministration of learned and ingenious men, poets in particular, to humanize a heart, which, left to itself, would have become daily more indurated and sanguinary. To shelter himself from any jealousy which his own great delegated power and popularity might raise in the suspicious bosom of the emperor, Maecenas gave into every kind of delicate pleasure and luxurious indulgence, even beyond the bent of his natural inclination. Thus he preserved his credit, and the power he delighted in, of encouraging and rewarding men of talents and merit.
Much praise is due to Auguſtus for choosing such able and ex⯑cellent ministers, who while they consulted his true interest, endeared him to his people, and were not deterred from the freedom of expos⯑tulation by the fear of incurring his momentary displeasure. When Seneca attempts to disparage the memory of Maecenas, by calling him "mollem, non mitem," he sacrifices truth to the prettiness of alliteration. He was the liberal patron of genius; enriched particularly Virgil and Horace, and lived loving and beloved by them on terms of equal and manly friendship. How amiable is the picture of their society, as pre⯑sented by Horace in the few following words of his ninth satire!
—minimum vati munus Alexis erat.
Caesar's second proposal of restoring the Commonwealth was made in the senate-house, and the business on his part conducted with refined artifice. Knowing that the sense of the majority would be in conso⯑nance with his own, for his retaining the supreme direction of affairs, he declared he would not take upon himself the whole weight of govern⯑ment, but share the provinces with the senate and people. He ex⯑pressed himself content to take the direction of such as were most liable to seditions and disturbances, and of the frontiers, exposed to incursions from foreign enemies; leaving to the senate those where they might enjoy the sweets of peaceful command without danger and alarm. Under this pretence, at once obliging and subdolous, he left the senate without troops, and reserved to himself the command of all the forces of the empire.
How despicable does the timorous precaution of Augustus for the safety of his person appear, when compared with the gallant negligence of Julius, who declared it was better to die at once, than to live in per⯑petual apprehension of mortality!
Silent leges inter arma.
What form of government is best, has long been an undecided question; but it does not seem difficult to determine that the worst is Democracy, especially, when occasioned by a revolution, in states where the people have been little considered, and long accustomed to subjection: not that nature has made any difference between the Noble⯑man and the Peasant, but education and habit have made a great deal. We should be surprised to find an excellent artist in any mechanical business, who was ignorant of the rudiments of the art, and had served no apprenticeſhip; then why should we expect that illiterate men, whose minds have been engaged in the meanest occupations, should be qualified at once to exercise the most difficult and sublime of all arts, that of governing? To their ignorance must be added another natural cause or impediment, the spirit of revenge arising from a sense of the indignities to which they had been accustomed; always engendering cruelty, and the desire of retaliation.
The first cause of dissensions and tumults among the Romans was not so much the existence of distinctions between Patricians and Plebeians, as that such distinctions were made too apparent, by the appropriation of honours and offices in one order, and exclusion in the other. To encroach upon this line of separation was the continual endeavour of the Plebeians, while the Patricians laboured as strenuously to prevent the encroachment. Till these distinctions were removed, Rome was a perpetual theatre of secessions, feuds, and insurrection. It is remark⯑able, that, when the Plebeians were first allowed to be eligible and to elect to the great offices of the state, they did not choose a single magistrate from their own order; no doubt from consciousness of their deficiency. In time they turned their attention to the science of govern⯑ment, and became masters of it.—The way to honours and emoluments is open to all ranks of men in Great Britain.
In note (E) at the end of this volume, will be found some addi⯑tional remarks on the Democracy of Athens.
Not content with absolving him from existing laws, the Senat⯑enabled him to make new laws at his pleasure: ‘ [...]. Ibid. l. liv. c. 10.’
Instrumenti ejus et supellectilis parsimonia apparet etiam nunc, residuis lectis atque mensis, quorum pleraque vix privatae elegantiae sunt.
Veste non temere aliâ quam domesticâ. usus est, ab uxore, et sorore, et filiâ, neptibusque confectâ.
Caenam trinis ferculis, aut, cum abundantissime senis, praebebat.
The personal inviolability annexed to the office of Tribune, induced Augustus to invest himself with it in perpetuity. A singular perversion! which strongly shews the efficacy of names, the emperor sheltering himself under the title of the most popular Roman magistrate, in order more securely to deprive the people entirely of their influence and liberty. It may remind us of Choraebus in the second book of Virgil, wearing a Grecian helmet and shield, and killing the Greeks with their own weapons, of which he had despoiled them:
The following lines, Sur les Arênes de Nismes, are to be found in a RECUEIL AMUSANT DE VOYAGES, and are, I think, in so good a style, that a reader who has not met with them before, will be pleased to see them here:
The publick spectacles at Rome were calculated to amuse the prince and people, and to render them insensible to the feelings of humanity. How different from the genius of the intellectual theatre! Lewis the fourteenth, after having been present at the representation of Corneille's Cinna, or the Clemency of Augustus, was heard to declare, that had he then been asked to pardon the Chevalier de Rohan, he would have consented. This anecdote deserves the notice of some singularists, who affect to think that the ſtage is prejudicial to morals. Comedy has been sometimes licentious; but next to the Divinity which presides over the eloquence of the pulpit, the Tragick Muse has been the chief priestess of virtue. "I never thought those ugly beetles had any feeling, (says a child to its mother,) till I heard the pretty lady in MEASURE FOR MEASURE say so." The moral of the Greek ſtage is perhaps too much confined to prudential precept, and reverence for absurd superstition. The French drama, till its late perversion, was perfect purity. Even the Operas of Metastatio abound with the noblest sentiments; and a very small number of our own tragedies excepted, where can the vicious heart, the sullen temper, or the perverted under⯑standing, find such efficacious pharmacy as on the stage of England? Were a deaf man to enter the theatre before "a well graced actor leaves the stage," he would soon discover what sentiment was prevalent, from the sympathy of the audience. He would see indignant scorn at succesful villainy, the kind bosom heaving for distress, or the countenance ex⯑panded and exulting at the triumph of integrity and honour. The seeds of goodness are almost in every mind, and a little culture may pre⯑vent their degenerating.
Some private Romans erected at their own expence publick edifices costly enough to exhaust the revenues of a Bedford or a Marlborough.
How exquisite must have been the taste of the poet, who could order the Aeneid to be destroyed after his death, as thinking it too im⯑perfect to do him honour!—One of the greatest obligations posterity owes to the memory of Augustus, is his not suffering the suppression of that divine poem.
Virgil is supposed to have employed seven years in the compo⯑sition of his Georgicks, the most perfect poem in the opinion of many very eminent criticks extant in any language. The whole work divided into four books, consists of little more than two thousand lines; but so many beauties were perhaps never before or since comprised within so small a compass.
To a mere English reader, the SEASONS of Thomson, though a work clearly original, will convey a better idea of the Georgicks, than any translation I have met with. Thomson, in this most beautiful poem, (one of the greatest ornaments of his country,) dips his pencil in the same glowing colours with which the Mantuan has painted the face of rural nature. We can perceive that he often casts his eye upon the Roman poet; not with the servile timidity of an imitator, but like a master, able to think for himself, to select, combine, and create by the vigour of his own genius.
In the style of these two Raffaelles of description, there is very per⯑ceptible difference. Thomson, though not more rich, is more luxuriant than Virgil; more sententious, diffusive, and abounding much more in epithets. The Bricon perhaps might not have turned his thoughts to the Seasons, had not the Georgicks preceded; yet even allowing to the latter the advantage of the Latin language, it is not easy to de⯑cide which production deserves the preference: for my own part, I am commonly inclined to give it to that which I have read latest. Thomson has sometimes weak expletive lines, Virgil never. Trans⯑position of words now and then, though but rarely, constitutes poetry in the Seasons; the structure of Virgil's verse cannot be altered without injuring the harmony or the image. Thomson's episodes are very justly commended; yet the Pastor Aristaeus in the fourth Georgick is superior to any of them.
The declamatory style which loads Thomson's tragedies, mixes well in a poem of such length and expansion as the Seasons. The mind, tranquilized by the scenes his muse has raised, allows him to assume the dignity of an instructor, and to indulge in whatever mood happens to have the ascendency. We may find perhaps upon the whole more eloquence in the modern, and in the ancient more energy.
The author does not mean that as an epick poet Virgil was superior to Homer, who wrote so many ages before him; but that he is superior to such as have appeared since his nativity. The number is not considerable, and of these our Milton is unquestionably the greatest. Among many other slanders, Voltaire describes him as "celui qui a gaté l'enfer et le diable du Tasse, &c." The Frenchman understood Milton but little better than he did Shakspeare. It is remarkable that in the fastidious censures of his noble Venetian Pococuranté in Candide, he praises only the three episodical books of Virgil, the second, fourth, and sixth, where there is more of relation than action; because he has himself attempted to follow these models in his Henriade: wish⯑ing always to persuade his countrymen that it is the most finished epick poem the wit of man ever produced, in any language.
There is certainly more bustle, and less interest, in the last half of the Aeneid than the first; and perhaps the episode in the ninth book is the most beautiful part of any of the last six. Wherever there is room for pathos, he is inimitable. The death of the stag in the seventh book, Nisus and Euryalus in the ninth, Pallas and Lausus, and the lamenta⯑tions over them, must touch every heart not utterly divested of sensi⯑bility. He has many sublime descriptions and passages in every book, and the constant majesty of his numbers has never been equalled.
| HAMMOND. | TIBULLUS. |
| El. 1 | l. ii. el. iv. 1—38. |
| 2 | ii. el. vi. |
| 3 | ii. el. iv. 39—50. |
| 4 | iii. el. v. |
| 5 | i. el. ii. |
| 6 | ii. el. vii. |
| 7 | ii. el. iii. |
| 8 | iii. el. iii. |
| 9 | iii. el. ii. |
| 11 | i. el. xi. |
| i. el. i. 45—52. | |
| 12 | iii. el. vii. |
| 13 | i. el. i. |
| i. el. v. 31—34. |
Immane bellicae civitatis argumentum, quod semel sub regibus, iterum Tito Manlio consule, tertio, Augusto Principe, certae pacis argumentum Janus Geminus clausus dedic.
That the Roman legions should have been the best disciplined and the most irresistible troops in the world, will not seem extraordinary, when we consider that from the building of the city to the reign of Augustus, a period of above seven hundred years, the gates of the temple of Janus were but three times closed: once by Numa, the second king; again, after the first Punick war, A. U. C. 529; and lastly by Augus⯑tus, A. U. C. 725. One would imagine that the Romans in time of peace must have felt like foxhunters in frost, listless and uncomfortable for want of their usual exercise.—Aususque tandem Caesar Augustus septingentesimo [vicesimo quinto] ab urbe condita anno, Janum Gemi⯑num cludere, bis ante se clusum, sub Numa rege, et victâ primum Carthagine.
Though the opulent Romans were great admirers of the works of the Grecian artists, and purchased them at immense prices, the contempla⯑tion of such admirable models did not raise any native rival school in Italy. Poetry had no sister art among the Romans.
Innumerable volumes in different languages are extant upon sculpture and painting; like many others I have much relish for both these en⯑chanting arts, yet cannot pretend to the least degree of science in either; but nothing I have ever read upon the latter, captivated my mind so much, as an excellent dialogue by Mr. Daniel Webb, a gentleman whose birth does honour to Ireland. The style and colouring glow with all the warmth and genius of the productions which he celebrates.—It is difficult to say, whether the Publick has most to lament in losing the pencil or the pen of the late accomplished President of the Royal Aca⯑demy. As I knew and admired him, it would give me pleaſure to ex⯑patiate upon his character as a scholar, an artist, and a companion; but I am restrained by recollecting that the care of his memory and writings is reserved for a friend every way qualified to do them entire justice.
The ancients had a custom of drinking a glass for every letter in the name of the lady they toasted. Unless their glasses were very small, it was well that they reposed on a triclinium. ‘Naevia sex cyathis, septem Justina bibatur. MARTIAL.’ It is fortunate for some jovial heads and amorous hearts among us, that the rigour of this custom does not prevail where some ladies have three or four Christian names, with not less than six or seven letters in each of them.
The Adriatick and the Tyrrhene or Tuscan sea.
Virgil seems particularly to delight in painting the ſerpent kind. In the Georgicks and Aeneid he has many descriptions of them, all highly finished, and with considerable diversity.
A serpent of the enormous length of one hundred and twenty feet is said to have disputed the use of the river Bagrada in Africa with the whole Roman army under the command of the conſul Regulus. The account is given, from Tubero, by Aulus Gellius:
"Tubero in historiis scriptum reliquit, bello primo Punico Attilium Regulum consulem in Africa, castris apud Bagradam flumen positis, prae⯑lium grande atque acre fecisse adversus unum serpentem illie stabu⯑lantem, inusitatae immanitatis; eumque, magna totius exercitus conflictione, ballistis atque catapultis diu oppugnatum: ejusque interfecti corium longum pedes centum ac viginti Romam misisse." NOCT. ATT. l. vi. c. 3. This monstrous creature was at length killed by a huge stone cast from an engine, which broke the spine of his back. Pliny says, (Hist. Nat. viii. 14.) that his skin was to be seen at Rome, usque ad bellum Nu⯑mantinum. A. U. C. 620.
Habuit enim ingenium et grande et virile, nisi illud secum discinxisset.
Maxima laus illi tribuitur mansuetudinis: pepercit gladio, sanguine abstinuit.
For an account of Henry Wriothesly, earl of Southampton, see Me⯑moirs of that nobleman, prefixed to the tenth volume of Shakspeare's Works, published by Mr. Malone; whose name cannot be mentioned without great respect by every friend to English literature. His indefati⯑gable industry has left nothing discoverable unexplored, his sagacity nothing unnoticed, which can contribute to gratify the numerous admirers of our greatest poet.
The family name of lord Southampton, as he observes to me, was for⯑merly pronounced Wresely, the first vowel being sounded like the French i.
Hesiod, as Mr. Malone suggests to me, has expressed the same wish in his introductory verses to the description of the IRON AGE. The whole passage, though written near three thousand years ago, is so perfectly applicable to the present barbarous state of France, that the classical reader will, I am confident, not be displeased at its being brought to his remembrance: ‘ [...]’
In the last note to Dr. Darwin's LOVES OF THE PLANTS, or second volume of THE BOTANICK GARDEN, see a description of the Upas or Poison Tree, transcribed from the account of N. P. Foerſch, a Dutch surgeon; published in the London Magazine for 1784. This tremendous and astoniſhing tree of Java stands in a stony waste covered with the bones of animals; and to the distance of three or four leagues round it desolates all life and vegetation. Birds caught by its effluvia fall down dead in their passage over it. Criminals sent to collect the poison, notwithstanding many preparations against it, perish in vast numbers. The points of warlike instruments are dipped in it, and it is said to produce some revenue to the emperor. The account is almost as wonderful, and little less incredible than any invention in the Arabian Nights; yet it is authenticated sufficiently. I know but one way to account for its being a fiction; by supposing that the Dutch devised it for better securing the monopoly of their spices. Some persons perhaps may think a Dutch flight of invention little less wonderful than the properties of this extraordinary tree.
Dr. Darwin in the third canto of his second volume has painted the Upas tree in bolder figures than I could venture to use, or perhaps could command for the same purpose.
This poem had long been out of the author's hands, and con⯑siderably advanced at the press, before accounts arrived of the horrible murder of the late unfortunate queen of France; exhibiting such a scene of complicated and deliberate barbarity, as makes us almost im⯑patient, as she seemed to be herself, for the last fatal stroke which alone could deliver her from the fangs of those merciless hell-hounds by whom she had been persecuted.
Here follows the simple and unexaggerated detail of her sufferings after the butchery of the king her husband.
A considerable time before the sixteenth of October 1793, the day of her murder, she was torn from her children and sister-in-law in the Temple, her former prison, and committed to the Conciergerie, one of the most filthy dungeons in Paris.
Behold this daughter of an empress, this sister of emperors, the wife of the once most powerful sovereign on the continent of Europe, in the very flower of her age, beautiful, calumniated, and innocent, plunged into a narrow cavern, four feet under ground, aired and lighted towards the top by one small iron-grated window, fetid, damp, and loathsome; four ruffians all day and night pent up with her in the same abyss, to witness every shocking humiliation of female delicacy: fed with the worse sus⯑tenance doled out to the vilest criminals, her bed a miserable pallet, with scanty bed-clothes not sufficient to cover her, foul and tattered; hurried from this gulph of desolation to a mock trial before savages predeter⯑mined on her condemnation; accused of impossible crimes, at the very name of which human nature ſhudders; a nominal advocate assigned to her, not to defend, but to inveigle and betray her: ſentence of ig⯑nominious death, in defiance of evidence and conviction, pronounced upon her. In a few hours afterwards her hair cut off, her hands tied be⯑hind her back, to prevent her holding a book of prayer or a crucifix; (an indignity offered only to her;) dragged in this manner with her back to the horses' tails upon a dungcart to the scaffold; attended by an impious miscreant dressed up like a constitutional priest, not to console her last moments, but to insult and embitter them; her head severed from her body, and her poor remains thrown into a hole to be consumed with quick-lime before the eyes of her inhuman subjects, who stood round wallowing in delight at the bloody spectacle: without a bosom on which ſhe could drop a tear; no ear to which she could impart a dying wiſh; no hand to which she could confide a lock of hair, or one last pledge of affection for her wretched children and sister-in-law.—She sustained it all to the last with heroick fortitude.
Thus perished the beautiful, the generous, the benevolent queen of France, furnishing the most singular example in human records of a life so dignified by birth, rank, and splendour, closed by such a flood of un⯑merited and overwhelming calamity. She indeed drained the chalice of affliction to its last and foulest dregs.
Whatever boundless conceptions good men may form of heavenly mercy, they will hardly imagine it can be extended to such inconceivable wickedness!
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 3826 Roman portraits a poem in heroick verse with historical remarks and illustrations by Robert Jephson Esq. University of Oxford Text Archive. University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-D37F-F