[Illustration: FIG. 113.—WORLD AS CONCEIVED ABOUT A.D. 100.]
Sound methods of discovering latitude and longitude were not yet in use, and therefore a map of the world according to ideas current in the first century would present a strange aspect to us. There is much error in the placing of towns or districts upon their parallels; and coasts or mountain ranges, particularly, of course, on the outskirts of the empire or in the less familiar lands beyond its bounds, are perhaps made to run north instead of north-west, or east instead of south-east. It follows that measurements of distances especially across the wider seas, were often very inaccurate, although within and about the Mediterranean there was so much traffic and such close observation of the stars that the errors were gradually reduced. The mariner, when he did not follow the coast and guide his course by familiar landmarks, steered by the stars, but of these he had a very intimate knowledge, to which he joined a close observation of the prevailing direction of the winds at the various seasons. There was a well-ordered system of lighthouses, and charts and mariners' guides were not wanting. In the winter months navigation over long distances was regularly suspended, and ships waited in port for the spring.
So far as acquaintance with the world was concerned, we have sufficient evidence that the trader knew his way very well down the African coast as far as Zanzibar, and along the southern shores of Asia as far as Cape Comorin. With Ceylon his acquaintance was vague, and only by tradition did he know of Further India by way of the sea and of China by way of the land. In the interior of Africa the caravans reached the Oases, and by way of Nile or caravan there was trade with the Soudan. Outside the Straits of Gibraltar, the Canary Islands and Madeira—known indiscriminately as the "Fortunate Isles," or "Isles of the Blest"—were in touch with the port of Cadiz. The shape of Great Britain beyond England was indefinite, although it was known to be an island, with the Shetlands lying beyond. Ireland was also recognised as an island and its relative size was not greatly misconceived. The chief misconception in this corner of Europe was that of orientation, Britain being placed either far too near or far too parallel to Spain (through a large error as to the shape of the Bay of Biscay). Meanwhile the coast of the Netherlands and Germany was made to run in a line much too closely parallel to the eastern shores of Britain. Scandinavia was known from navigating explorers and from the amber trade, but was commonly regarded as a large island. Knowledge of the Baltic did not extend beyond about the modern Riga, and of the whole region thence to the Caspian only the dimmest notions were entertained.
From what has been said concerning the calculation of the earth's diameter and of the distances of the sun and moon, it may be readily understood that the ancient mathematician had arrived at great proficiency in the geometrical branch of mathematics. This should cause no surprise when we remember what is meant by "Euclid." That eminent genius had lived at Alexandria three centuries and a half before the age of Nero, and he by no means represents all that was known of such mathematics at the latter date. The ancients were quite sufficiently versed in the solution of triangles to have made the necessary calculations in geography and astronomy, if they had but possessed the right instruments. Perhaps only an expert should deal—even in the few sentences required for our purpose—with such matters as the calculation of the capacity and proportional relations of cylinders, or with the mechanics and hydrostatics of Archimedes. That philosopher so far understood the laws of applied force that he had boasted: "Give me a place to stand on and I will move the world." What he and others had learned concerning fluid pressure, or concerning pulleys, levers, and other mechanical devices, had not been lost by the Greeks and had been borrowed from them for full practical use by the Romans. They knew how to lift huge weights, and how to hurl heavy missiles by the artillery previously mentioned. Experiments had been made at Alexandria in the use of steam-power, but had led to nothing practical. It is obvious also from their buildings and works of engineering, even without explicit statement, that they well understood the distribution of weight and the laws of stability. The laws of acoustics were understood with sufficient clearness to make them applicable with success to theatres. In practical mensuration—a daily necessity for men who were perpetually allotting lands or marking out camps—the Romans were experts. In pure arithmetic the contemporary world had made some considerable advance, such as in the extraction of square-roots and cube-roots; but, as has been already said, the Roman interest was virtually confined to such arithmetic or mathematics as appeared to possess some bearing on actual use.
Of chemistry, in the modern scientific sense, the ancients knew almost nothing. Empirically they were aware of certain properties exhibited by substances, and could perform certain manipulations; but, like moderns down to a very recent time, they had no real understanding of the quantitative or qualitative relations of elements. Long ago Greek philosophy, followed by the Epicurean school, had set forth an "atomic theory," which on the surface is surprisingly like the modern chemical hypothesis; but this contained strange and illogical features and had no connection with actual practice. In this department the chief proficiency of the world of this date lay in metallurgy, in which the processes empirically discovered, chiefly by Egyptians and Phoenicians, were closely similar to those now employed. They thoroughly understood the smelting of ores, but could render no scientific account of the processes. Botany was in a very crude condition, scarcely extending beyond such knowledge as was required on the one hand for farming and horticulture, and on the other for the vegetable medicines used by contemporary physicians.
The doctoring of the time was also, of course, largely empirical, but assuredly hardly more so than it was a century or so ago, and distinctly more rational than it became in the Middle Ages. We cannot conceive of a reputable doctor at Rome prescribing the nauseous mediaeval absurdities. Practical surgery must have been surprisingly advanced, and there is scarcely a modern surgeon who does not exclaim in admiration of the instruments discovered at Pompeii and now preserved in the Naples Museum (see FIG. 69). In physic it is, of course, tolerably certain that many of the remedies or methods of treatment were of the sound and simple kind discovered by the long experience of mankind and often put in use by our grandmothers. The defect contemporary medicine was that it was almost wholly empirical. The ancient surgeon could doubtless perform ordinary operations—amputations and excisions—with neatness, and the ancient physician knew perfectly well what to do with the ordinary complaints—the fevers and agues, the bilious attacks, the gout, or the dropsy—but he was baffled by any new conditions. Moreover, if he could diagnose and cure, he could seldom prevent, inasmuch as he had little understanding of the causes of maladies. He had everything to learn in regard to sanitation and the preventing of infection. A plague would sometimes kill half the people in a town or district, and the loss of 30,000 persons in the metropolis would probably appear to most Romans as a visitation of the gods, nor is it certain that the doctors would generally disagree with that view. Though there were many quacks, it is not the case that the reputable medical men—most of them Greek, some of them Romans, who borrowed a Greek name because it "paid"—lacked the scientific spirit or such knowledge as the time afforded. They went to the medical school at Alexandria or elsewhere, and studied their treatises on physic and anatomy, but, at least in the latter subject, they were sadly hampered. Dissection of human bodies was forbidden by law as being a desecration of the dead, and though it might sometimes be practised sub rosa, it was the general custom to perform the dissections on other animals, particularly monkeys, and to argue thence erroneously to mankind.
CHAPTER XXI
PHILOSOPHY—STOICS AND EPICUREANS
With such an unsatisfactory equipment of science, and with such a vague and morally inoperative religion, it was no wonder that the higher minds of the contemporary world turned to the study of philosophy. Of such studies there had been many schools or sects, but at this date we have chiefly to reckon with two—the Stoics and Epicureans. There were, it is true, the Academics, who disputed everything, and held no doctrine to be more true than its contrary. There were Eclectics, who picked and chose. But the majority of those who affected a positive philosophy attached themselves either to the Stoic or else to the Epicurean system, not necessarily with orthodox rigidity on every point, but as a general guide—at least in theory—to the conduct of life. Where we belong to a certain religious denomination or church, and "sit under" a certain class of preachers, they belonged to a certain school of philosophy, and attended the lectures of certain of its expounders. Instead of a chaplain or parish clergyman they engaged or associated with an expert in their special system. But just as the Frenchman remarked, "Je suis catholique, mais je ne pratique pas," so might one be in principle a good Stoic without much exercise of the accepted doctrines. The distinction between the tenets of the two great schools was wide, but within each school itself individuals might differ as widely as "Broad Church" from whatever its opposite may be called. The choice between the two schools was mainly a matter of temperament. Persons of the sterner type of mind, caring comparatively little for the physical comforts and gracious amenities of life, and possessed of a strong sense of duty and decorum—inclined, perhaps, not only to piety and self-abnegation, but also to be somewhat dour and uncompromising—were naturally attracted to Stoicism. Those of the complementary character preferred the doctrines of Epicurus. The Stoics were the Pharisees, the Epicureans the Sadducees, of pagan philosophy. As the Pharisees were the most Hebraic of the Hebrews, so it was Stoicism that came to be the characteristic Roman creed. The ordinary Roman had been brought up in the tradition of obeying the law of the state and the claims of duty; he had high notions of personal dignity and a leaning to the heroic virtues. Give him a strong, consistent, and elevating religion and he would be normally a pious man. Stoicism supplied him with a standard which was in keeping with such tendencies. About Epicureanism there was nothing heroic or elevating.
Put briefly, and therefore crudely, the Epicurean doctrine was that happiness is the end of life. What men seek, and have a right to seek, is the most pleasant existence. Our conduct should secure for us as much real pleasure as possible. Now at first sight this looks like what it was opprobriously called by its enemies, "the philosophy of the pig-sty." It by no means meant this to its founder. For what is "pleasure"? Not by any means necessarily the gratification of the moment, physical or otherwise. A present pleasure may mean future pain, either of body or of mind. Wrong actions and bestial enjoyments bring their own penalty. You must choose wisely, and so direct your life that you suffer least and enjoy most consistently. Temperance and wisdom are therefore virtues necessary to a true Epicurean. You desire health; therefore you will live, as Epicurus lived, on simple and wholesome food. You desire tranquillity or peace of mind; therefore you will abstain from all perverse acts and gratifications, desires and emotions, which disturb that peace. In short the thing to be sought is nothing else but this grateful composure of mind—a thing which you cannot have if you are always wanting this or that and either abusing or misusing your bodily or mental functions, or needlessly mortifying yourself. To the plain man this apparently meant "Take life easily and keep free of worry." Naturally the plain man's ideas of taking life easily became those of taking pleasures as they come, indolently accepting the agreeables of life and feeling no call to make much of its duties. It is all very well for a high-minded philosopher to avoid a pleasure in order to avoid its pain, and to realize that a pleasure of the mind is worth more than a pleasure of the body, but one cannot expect the ordinary pupil—the homme moyen sensuel—to comprehend this attitude with heartiness sufficient to put it into practice. It followed therefore that the Epicurean tended, not only to become lazy, but to become vicious, or to make light of vices. This was not indeed true Epicureanism, and Epicurus is not to blame for it; it simply shows that Epicureanism, whatever its logical or other merits, provided no sufficient stimulus to a right life. As regards theology the position of the school was that there might very well be such things as higher beings—there was nothing in physical philosophy to make them any more impossible than a man or a fish—but that, if they existed, they were not concerned with man's affairs; his moral conduct, like his sacrifices and prayers, was not matter for their consideration. No need, therefore, to let superstition worry you, or to trouble about future punishment. Conduct your life according to the same principles laid down, and let the gods—if there be any—look to themselves. Naturally the result of such a position is that ceasing to regard the gods means ceasing to believe in them, and, as a Roman writer says: "In theory it leaves us the gods, in practice it abolishes them."
The other school—that of the Stoics—is perhaps less easily comprehended, nor can it be said that its doctrines were always quite so coherent. Again we may put the position briefly, and therefore, perhaps, only approximately. The rule of life is to live as "nature" directs. Nature has its laws, which you cannot disobey with impunity. The law of nature is the mind of God. The material universe is the body, God is its soul, and He directs the workings of nature with foreknowledge and perfect wisdom. If man can only be brought to act in strict accordance with the mind of God—or law of nature—he is sure of perfect well-being, because he can do nothing as it should not be done. If he can only arrive at such perfect operation of his mental processes, he will necessarily be the perfect speaker, the perfect ruler, the perfect craftsman, the perfect performer of every task, including the securing of his own happiness. Doubtless this is logical enough, but how is one to attain to such right mental operations, and to become what was called a "sage"? Only by acting always according to reason and not according to passion. That and that alone is "virtue." The divine mind is not swayed by passion—by hope, fear, exultation, or grief—but only and always by reason. Learn therefore to obey reason and reason only. Do not permit yourself to be drawn from the true path by fear of threats, even of death, nor by grief, even for your dearest friends. Such feelings warp your reason, distract your judgment, and deflect you from the right course. When passion—feeling—comes in conflict with reason, you must drive feeling away. Your reason may not always be right; nevertheless it is the best guide you have, and you must cultivate it to act as rightly as possible. Remember that the power to act in accordance with the divine mind—the law of nature—lies in your own will; things external have nothing to do with that straight-forward proceeding—they cannot help you, and you must not let them hinder you. The condition of your mind is everything; as long as its operation is right, you are living in the right way. Your mind may act as rightly in poverty as in riches; you may be equally wise and virtuous whether you have the external advantages or not. You must therefore learn to ignore these things—pain, grief, fear, joy, and all the other perturbing influences. Cultivate, therefore, right reason and the absence of emotions.
This, you will say, is a very high, unattainable, if not inhuman, standard. Quite so, and therefore, while Epicureanism often produced vicious men, this often produced pretenders and even hypocrites. Nevertheless it is better to set oneself a high standard than a low one, and a Roman who endeavoured to control himself by reason, and to place himself above fear and pain, was thereby on the way to be brave, patient, truthful, and just. Those who would see what high character could be associated with Stoicism—whether as the result or as the motive of the choice of the school—should read Epictetus, whose text, written early in the next century, was "sustain and abstain," and also the great-minded gentle Emperor Marcus Aurelius. A logical outcome of Stoicism was that you should say only the thing which reason approved, and say it unafraid. A good republican virtue, this, but under the emperors a dangerous one, as an honest Stoic like Thrasea found out. In practice there was naturally much qualifying or mellowing of the rigid Stoic attitude: the exigencies of actual life had to be met part of the way, and both Greek and Roman Stoics were often only Stoics in part—the complete "sage" was of course impossible.
As for the gods, it is obvious that the Stoics were pantheists; there was one God, and He was the soul of the universe. They also, of course, recognised His providence. What then of the gods of the state? Some did not attempt to discuss them. Others treated the various so-called separate deities in the list as being only so many manifestations or avatars of the same divine power, and whether they were content or not with that attempt at harmonisation, who shall say?
Meanwhile, at least in the eastern part of the empire, you might meet with another type of philosopher, the Cynic, belonging to the same school as the famous Diogenes, who had lived in that large earthenware jar commonly known as his "tub." Like the Stoic, the Cynic held that externals were of no value, and therefore he contented himself with a piece of bread, a wallet full of beans, and a jug of water. Like the Stoic, he believed in perfect freedom of speech, and therefore he spoke loudly and often abusively of all and sundry who appeared to him to deserve it. Some such men doubtless were sincere enough, like the earlier hermits or preaching friars, but many of them were simply idle and virulent impostors who thoroughly deserved that name of the "dog" which was commonly given to them, and which came to designate their school.
The mention of impostors and hypocrites brings us naturally to a point which may have been foreseen. To the ancient world the professional philosophers were the nearest approach to our professional clergy. They affected an appearance accordingly; and the philosopher was regularly known by his long beard, his coarse cloak, and his staff. But, alas! there were many who disgraced their cloth. There were Stoic teachers who practised all manner of secret vices, and whose behaviour was in outrageous contradiction to their creed of the "absence of emotions." There were not only many Honeymans, there were many Stigginses. There were idlers and vagabonds on a level with the mendicant friars and pardon-sellers of the time of Chaucer. There were pompous hypocrites. Also side by side with the serious and earnest philosopher, as deeply learned in the books of his sect as a modern divine, there were charlatans and dabblers. It is unfortunately in this last light that the Apostle Paul appeared to the professional Stoic and Epicurean teachers of Athens. They were the finished products of the philosophic schools of the most famous universities, while he was supposed by them to be teaching some new kind of philosophy. Philosophers were apt to be itinerant, and St. Paul was looked upon as but another of these new arrivals. In his language they detected what seemed to be borrowed notions not consistently bound together, and they therefore called him by a name which it is not easy to translate. Literally it is "a picker up of seeds"—that is to say, a sciolist who gathers scraps from profounder people and gives them out with an air. Perhaps the nearest, although an undignified, word is "quack." That Paul possessed a knowledge of Greek philosophy, and particularly of Stoicism, is practically certain. He came from Tarsus in Cilicia, and Cilicia was the native home of many leading Stoics, including its greatest representative in all antiquity. He had been taught by Gamaliel, who was versed in "the learning of the Greeks." His address at Athens was deliberately meant to bear a relation to the philosophy of the experts who were present, but necessarily it could only introduce a few salient allusions, such as even a dabbler could have picked up, and we can hardly blame the specialists for their erroneous judgment. As he says himself: "The Greeks demand philosophy; but we proclaim a Messiah crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks a folly."
To discuss further the moral ideas of the Roman world would consume more space and time than can be afforded here. It may, however, be worth while to mention that suicide was commonly—and especially by the Stoics—looked upon as a natural and blameless thing, when calm reason appeared to justify the proceeding, and when due consideration was given to social claims. To seek a euthanasia in such cases was an act of wisdom. Belief in an underworld or an after life was not rare among the common people, but it certainly did not exist in any force among the cultivated classes. It was taught neither by philosophy nor by the religion of the state. Yet the sense that rewards or punishments are unfairly meted out in this world was strong in many a mind, and this is one of the facts which account for the hold taken upon such minds, first by the religion of Isis, and then in a still greater and more abiding measure by Christianity.
CHAPTER XXII
THE ROMAN PROFUSION OP ART
[Illustration: FIG. 114.—THE DYING GAUL.]
[Illustration: FIG. 115.—A "CANDELIERA" OR MARBLE PILASTER OF THE
BASILICA AEMILIA.]
[Illustration: FIG. 116.—FRAGMENTS OF THE ARCHITECTURE OF THE REGIA.]
It would be a more than agreeable task to deal at some length with the art of the Roman world of this period, but the subject is vast, and demands a treatise to itself. How general was the love of art—or at least the recognition of its place in life—must be obvious to those who have seen the great collections in Rome, gathered partly from the city itself and partly from the towns and country "villas" of Italy, and those in the National Museum at Naples, acquired mainly from the buried cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Nor are we amazed merely at the quantity of statues, statuettes, busts, reliefs, paintings, mosaic gems and cameos, and artistically wrought objects and utensils, which have been preserved while so many thousands of such productions have disappeared in the conflagrations of Rome, the vandalisms of the ignorant, or the kilns and melting-pots of the Middle Ages. The quality is still more a source of delight than the quantity. This last sentence, of course, contains a truism, since art is no delight without high quality. If we had only preserved to us such masterpieces as the Capitoline Venus, the Dying Gaul, the Laocoon, the Dancing Faun, the so-called Narcissus, and the Resting Mercury, we should realise something of the exquisite skill in plastic art which had been attained in antiquity and has never been attained since. But we might perhaps imagine that these were altogether exceptional pieces and the choicest gems possessed by the world of the time. Yet the preservation of these is but an accident, and there is no reason to believe them to be more than survivals out of many equally excellent. On the contrary, our ancient authorities—such as the elder Pliny—prove that there was a multitude of similar creations contained in public buildings alone. Pompeii, it has already been said more than once, was a provincial town in no way distinguished for the high culture of its inhabitants; yet there is scarcely a house of any consideration which has not afforded some example of fine art in one form or another. We know that several of the Roman temples—such as those of Concord in the Forum and of Apollo on the Palatine—were veritable galleries of masterpieces; and that the rich Romans adorned both their town houses and country villas with dozens of statues, colossal, life-size, or miniature, by distinguished masters. But still more striking is the fact that the comparatively small homes of Pompeii often possessed a work for which no price would now be too large, and of which we are content even to obtain a tolerably good copy. At Herculaneum there evidently lived persons of greater literary and artistic I refinement than at Pompeii, and the discoveries from that only very partially excavated town make an incalculably rich show of their own. What then would be the case with Naples, Baiae, the resorts all along the coast as far as the Tiber, the luxurious villas on the Alban Hills, and the great metropolis itself?
Yet the fact of this universal recognition of art is scarcely made so impressive by these collected specimens of perfect taste and perfect execution, as it is incidentally by observing the delicate and graceful finish of some moulding on a chance fragment from a building, such as the Basilica Aemilia or the office of the Pontifex in the Forum, or the exquisite chiselling of trailing ivy upon a cup from Herculaneum (FIG. 56), or the dainty pattern wrought on no more important a thing than a bucket (FIG. 58), or the graceful shape imparted to a household lamp (FIG. 54). Water could hardly be permitted to spout in a peristyle or garden without doing so from some charming statuette, animal figure, or decorative mask or head. When fine art is sought in things like these, we may guess how uncompromisingly it was sought in things more avowedly "on show."
The age with which we have been dealing fell within the most flourishing period of Roman, or rather Graeco-Roman, taste and craftsmanship. A hundred years later both taste and execution were declining, and by the age of Constantine—two centuries and a half after Nero—not one artist could pretend to achieve such work as had belonged to a multitude between the reigns of Augustus and Hadrian.
It is not indeed probable that, even at our date, the large and noble simplicity of the older Greek masters could be rivalled. It is not probable that most of the former creations of art still preserved could have been wrought as originals by any Greek or Roman artist living in the time of Nero. Nevertheless technical craftsmanship was still superb, and while the contemporary artist could not create a splendid original, he was at least able to create an almost perfect copy. The Roman public buildings and private houses were enriched with a host of such copies, or, when not exact copies, with modifications which, though not improvements, were at least such as could not offend by displaying a lack of technical mastery. Let us grant that it was for the most part Greeks who were the artists; nevertheless the Greek is an active member of the Roman world and of its metropolitan life, and he executes his work to the order of the Roman state or the Roman patron; and therefore the art of the time deserves to be called Roman in that sense. There is little doubt that the Romans, if left to themselves, would have developed only the solid, or the gorgeous, or the baroque. But influences which penetrate a society are part of that society, and the Greek influence accepted by the Roman becomes a Roman principle.
Perhaps it is also true that many a Roman who possessed fine works of art, and even exquisite ones, was not in reality a true connoisseur; that, even if he were, he lacked instructive and ardent appreciation of art for its own sake; and that, like his cultivation of intellectual society or learning, his cultivation of art was rather that of a man determined to be on a level with the culture of his times. Nevertheless the fact is palpable, that the cultivation was there, and was displayed in public architecture and in household embellishment in a way which puts the modern world to shame. With us art is a luxury for the few, and a keen enjoyment for still fewer; in the age of Nero it penetrated the life of every class.
In architecture the native Roman gift was for the practical combined with the massive and grandiose. The structures in which they themselves excelled were the amphitheatre, the public baths, the triumphal arch, the basilica, the bridge, and the aqueduct. Their mastery of the arch, their excellent concrete, and their engineering genius, enabled them to produce works in this kind which had had no parallels in the Greek world. Nor had the Greeks felt the same need for such buildings. They had been innocent of gladiatorial shows, and they had been unfortunately too innocent of large conceptions in the way of water-supply. When an amphitheatre or aqueduct of the Roman kind was to be found in the graecized half of the empire, it was constructed under Roman influence. The modern may well afford to wonder at and envy the profusion of such structures in the ancient world. How noble and at the same time how strong was the work of the Romans when they undertook to supply even a provincial town with abundant and adequate water, is manifest from such aqueducts as are still to be seen at Nîmes (FIG. 1) or at Segovia. In other architectural conceptions the Romans of the time of Nero mainly followed the Greek lead and employed Greek artists. The architectural "orders" were Greek, with sundry Graeco-Roman modifications, particularly in the way of more ornate or fantastic Corinthian capitals; the notions of sculptural decoration were equally of Hellenic origin. Their theatres also were of the Greek kind adapted in non-essentials to the somewhat different conditions of a Roman performance. The Greek taste in decoration was the simpler and purer: the Roman cultivated the sumptuous and the ornate, sometimes, with conspicuous success, often with an overloaded effect. As Friedlander (who, however, deals with a much longer period than ours) puts the matter: "Nowhere, least of all at Rome, was an important public building erected without the chiseller, the stucco-worker, the carver, the founder, the painter, and mosaic-maker being called in. Statues, single or in groups, filled gables, roofs, niches, interstices of columns, staircases in the temples, theatres, amphitheatres, basilicas, public baths, bridges, arches, portals, and viaducts. . . . Triumphal arches generally had at their summits equestrian figures, trophies, chariots of four or six horses, driven by figures of victory. Reliefs and medallions bedecked the frieze, and reliefs or paintings the walls; ceilings were gay with stucco or coloured work, and the floors with glittering mosaics. All the architectural framework, supports, thresholds, lintels, mouldings, windows, and even gutters were overloaded with decorative figures."
It was above all in plastic art that the contemporary world was enormously rich. Not only could no public building dispense with such decorations as those above mentioned; no private house of the least pretensions was without its statues, busts, statuettes, carved reliefs, and stucco-work. Never was statuary in marble or bronze so plentiful in every part of the empire, in public squares, or in the houses of representative people—in reception-hall, peristyle court, garden, or colonnade. Portrait statues in the largest towns were to be counted by hundreds, and sometimes by thousands. Men distinguished in war, in letters, in public life, and in local benefactions were as regularly commemorated by statues or busts as they are in modern times by painted portraits. Sometimes—unlike the modern portraits of course—these were paid for by the recipient of the compliment. In the comparatively unimportant Forum of Pompeii there stood five colossal statues, between seventy and eighty life-size equestrian statues, and as many standing figures, while the public buildings surrounding this open space contained their dozen or twenty each. As has been said already, most of the best work in sculpture—apart from these bronze and marble portraits of contemporaries—was reproduction of Grecian masterpieces dating from the time of Pheidias onward. Particularly did the Roman affect the more elaborate work of the period of the later "Macedonian" kings. Where the actual work was not exactly copied it at least supplied the main conception or motive. It followed naturally that there would be in existence many copies of the same piece, and, in procuring these, both the public and the householder would feel relieved of any danger of betraying the wrong taste. The workshops or studios of Greek artists turned out large numbers of a given masterpiece—a Faun, a Venus, or a Discobolus—at prices from £50 or so upwards. It followed also that there were numerous imitations passed off as originals, and many a wealthy man boasted of possessing an "original" or a genuine "old master"—a Praxiteles or a Lysippus—when he owned but a clever reproduction. The same remark applies, not only to the statues, but to the genre-groups and animal forms of which such fine examples can be seen in the Vatican Museum, and also to silver cups by "Mentor" or to bronzes of Corinth. Petronius, the coarse but witty "arbiter of taste" under Nero, mocks at the vulgar nouveau riche who imagined that the Corinthian bronzes were the work of an artist named Corinthus.
[Illustration: FIG. 117.—WALL-PAINTING. (Woman with Tablets.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 118.—WALL-PAINTING FROM HERCULANEUM. (Women playing with Knuckle-Bones.)]
Next to sculpture came painting, and in this art Romans themselves appear to have often acquired a technical skill which rivalled that of the Greeks. There is also plenty of evidence that among the pictorial artists there were no few women. For us practically the only painting of the time which has been preserved is that upon the walls of private houses, and it is probable that we see some of the worst specimens of the kind as well as some of a high order of excellence. It is not difficult to distinguish between the truly artistic design and colouring of wall-pictures in the House of Vettii or of the "Tragic Poet" and the crude journeyman work in sundry other Pompeian houses which must have belonged to anything but connoisseurs. Paintings, it must be remembered, were the ancient wall-papers, as well as the ancient pictures. Here, as in sculpture, we find the same or similar motives and groupings repeated in a way which shows that the painter—or rather the collaborating painters—must have been reproducing or adapting an original which was particularly admired or had obtained a fashionable vogue. The wall-pictures, done in fresco or distemper and in various dimensions, fall into four main classes. There are landscapes, from a pretty realistic garden scene to a fantastic stretch of sea and land diversified with woods, rocks, figures, and buildings. There are subjects from mythology and from poetical "history" or legend, chiefly representing "moments of dramatic interest." There are genre-pictures, such as those of the Cupids acting as goldsmiths, oil-dealers, or wine-merchants. Finally there are pictures of still-life—of fishes, birds, fruits, and other objects—often admirable in their kind. Serving as frame or setting to many of the scenes there are architectural paintings—sometimes in complicated but highly skilful perspective, but often extremely unreal and confusing in conception—representing columns and pediments of buildings. It must here suffice to offer one or two characteristic examples out of the multitude of wall-paintings which have been found (see also Figs. 43, 44).
Though Romans themselves, and even persons of standing, sometimes dabbled in the fine arts, it is unquestionable that they commonly regarded the professional artist as only a superior tradesman. They admired his skill, but rendered little esteem to the man. A Roman knight or a Roman lady might occasionally paint for pleasure; Nero himself might model a figure or handle a brush; but so soon as art ceased to be dilettante and became a calling, so soon as its work was produced for payment, the artist ranked with other hirelings, however superior he might be in kind. Seneca expresses an open contempt, although he is perhaps, here as elsewhere, judging by a standard more severe than that of his contemporaries in general. To some extent this attitude is explained by the very abundance of objects of art, and by the immense number of artists, now nameless, belonging to the period; it is also to some extent excused by the fact that the craftsmanship, however consummate, was not at this period accompanied by the originality of the great Greek times from which it borrowed. Much of the work—particularly perhaps in painting and metal-chasing—was done by slaves. Apart from this consideration, the studios were so numerous and taught so well, that there must have been thousands of persons working either alone or co-operatively, whose position, however excellent the performance, became analogous to that of a house-decorator. On a wall to be painted in fresco a number of painters would be employed together. Throughout the Roman world, wherever works of art were wanted, the professional would travel, often with his assistants, and take up a contract. In modern parlance, the communities requiring some monument of art "called for tenders" and were prone to accept the lowest.
Whatever abundance of art the Roman world cultivated and possessed; however indispensable to a public place was a wealth of buildings with lavish decoration of sculptured pillars, of statues, or of triumphal arches; however necessary to a private house were originals, supposed originals, and copies in the way of statuary, paintings, bronzes, mosaics, and other means of artistic adornment; it is very doubtful whether any large number of Romans entertained that spontaneous enjoyment of the beauty of art which is known as genuine "artistic feeling." In their literature we look in vain for any expression of enthusiasm on the subject. There are many references to works of art, but none which possess any intense glow of warmth. Doubtless art was so abundant that, as has already been said in reference to the appreciation of natural beauty, the absence of "gush" need not indicate absence of real enjoyment. Enjoyment there was, but it was apparently for the most part the enjoyment either of the collector or of the man who realises that an appreciation of art demands a large place in culture, and who is determined to be as well supplied and as well informed as his neighbour, while his judgment of a piece of work, though far from unintelligent, and often excellent in regard to principles of design and technical execution, is mainly the result of a deliberate training and cult, and is in consequence somewhat chill and detached.
[Illustration: FIG. 119.—LYRE AND HARP.]
Of music the Romans were passionately fond, but the music itself was of a description which perhaps would hardly commend itself to modern notions, particularly those of northern Europe. The instruments in use were chiefly the harp, the lyre, and the flageolet (or flute played with a mouthpiece). To these we may add for processions the straight trumpet and the curved horn, and, for more orgiastic occasions or celebrations, the panpipes, cymbals, and tambourine or kettledrum. Performers from the East played upon certain stringed instruments not greatly differing from the lyre and harp of Greece and Italy. Women from Cadiz used the castagnettes. Hydraulic organs with pipes and keys were coming into vogue, and the bagpipes were also sufficiently familiar. In the use of all these instruments the ancients knew nothing of the harmonisation of parts; to them harmony and concerto implied no more than unison, or a difference of octaves. Whatever emotions may have been evoked by the music so produced, it cannot be imagined that they were of the intensity or subtlety of which the modern art and instruments are capable. Apart from the professionals, many Roman youths and the majority of Roman girls learned both to play and Sing, the instrument most affected being the harp, and the teacher of harp-playing being held in the highest esteem and receiving the highest emoluments. Sacrifices were regularly accompanied by the flageolet; processions by this and the trumpet; the rites of Bacchus by pipes, tambourines, and cymbals; performances in the theatre by an immense orchestra of various instruments; the more elaborate dinners by flute, harp, concerto of the two, singing, and such coarser and more exciting performances as were to the taste of the host or his company. The greatest houses kept their own choir and orchestra of slaves; the less wealthy hired musicians as they needed them. As for the Romans themselves, certain religious ceremonies called for singing of boys and girls in chorus; and in a purely domestic way the women of the house played on the harp and sang. Where there was singing, the words dominated the music and not the contrary, but snatches from recent popular pieces were sung and hummed in the streets for the sake of their taking air, just as they are in modern times. We cannot conceive of any Roman festivity without abundance of music. When in spring at Baiae on the Bay of Naples the holiday frequenters of that resort were rowed about the Lucrine Lake in their flower-bedecked gondolas or boats with coloured sails, the musicians were no less in evidence than they are now at every opportunity on the waters of the same bay or in the evening on the Grand Canal at Venice. In the truly Greek portion of the empire music, though no more advanced in method, was for the most part of a finer and severer kind; but at Alexandria—where it amounted to a mania—the influence of the native Egyptian style, blent with the more passionate among the Greek modes, had produced a music extremely exciting and highly demoralising.
On the whole, it may reasonably be held that music played at least as important a part both in the houses and the public entertainments of the ancient Romans as it plays in modern Italy. The artists were as carefully trained, the audiences as critical or as receptive, the personal affectations of the musicians as characteristic, and their effect on emotional admirers of the opposite sex as great, as they are at the present day. The difference between the two ages consists in the nature of the music itself, and in the instruments through which it is respectively delivered; and in these respects the advantage is entirely with the modern world.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE LAST SCENE OF ALL—BURIAL AND TOMBS
Whatever conceptions may have been entertained as to existence beyond the grave, there was no doubt in the Roman mind as to the claim of the dead to a proper burial and a worthy monument. It had once on a time been a matter of universal belief that the spirit which had departed from an unburied corpse could find no admittance to the company in the realms of Hades. It could not join "the majority" below. Originally no doubt the notion was simply that, as the body had not been consigned to the earth, the spirit also remained homeless above ground. Gradually this fancy shifted to the notion that, through neglect of burial, the dead man was dishonoured—he had no friends—and that his spirit was thereby disgraced and unworthy of reception by the powers beneath. It must therefore remain shivering on the near side of the river across which the grim Charon ferried the more fortunate souls. Even when the body had been decently buried, the spirit, though received into the gloomy realm, called for continued respect on the part of its friends on earth. Unless it received its periodical honours and was commemorated by a fitting sepulchre, it would meet with slights from other ghosts and would feel its position keenly. Naturally it would then do its best, by some form of haunting, to punish the living for their disregard and forgetfulness. From such considerations there arose in very ancient days in Italy, as in Greece, a great anxiety to perform scrupulously "the dues" of the defunct. Even if the body could not be found, it was obligatory to perform the obsequies and to build a cenotaph. If a stranger came across a dead body he must not pass it by without throwing at least three handfuls of dust or earth upon it and bidding it "Farewell."
Though the burial customs still employed sprang from old fancies like these, we are not to suppose that such notions were in full life in the Roman world of our period. Poets might play with them, and some ignorant folk might still vaguely entertain them. The mere belief in ghosts was doubtless general, and even the learned argued the question of their existence. Here are parts of another letter culled from Pliny already several times quoted. He writes to his friend Sura: "I should very much like to know whether you think that apparitions actually exist, with a real shape of their own and a kind of supernatural power, or that it is only our fear which gives an embodiment to vain fancies. My own inclination is to believe in them, and chiefly because of an experience which, I am told, befell Curtius Rufus." He then speaks of a phantom form which prophesied that person's fortune. "Another occurrence, quite as wonderful and still more terrifying, I will relate as I was told it. There was at Athens a house which was roomy and commodious, but which bore an ill-name and was plague-stricken. In the silence of the night there was heard a sound of iron. On closer attention it proved to be a rattling of chains, first at a distance and then close at hand. Soon there appeared the spectre of an old man, miserably thin and squalid, with a long beard and unkempt hair. On his legs were fetters, and on his hands chains, which he kept shaking. In consequence the inhabitants spent horrible and sleepless nights; the sleeplessness made them ill, and, as their terror increased, the illness was followed by death…. As a result the house was deserted and totally abandoned to the ghost. Nevertheless it was advertised, on the chance that some one ignorant of all this trouble" (note the commercial morality) "might choose to buy it or rent it. To Athens there comes a philosopher named Athenodorus, who reads the placard. On hearing the price and finding it so cheap, he has his suspicions" (the ancient philosopher had his practical side), "makes enquiry, and learns the whole story. So far from being less inclined to hire it, he is only the more willing. On the approach of evening he gives orders for his couch to be made up in the front part of the house, and asks for his tablets, pencils, and a light. After dismissing his attendants to the back rooms, he applies all his attention, as well as his eyes and hand, steadily to his writing, for fear his mind, if unoccupied, might conjure up imaginary sounds and causeless fears. At first there was the same silence of the night as elsewhere; then there was a shaking of iron, a movement of chains. The philosopher refused to lift his eyes or stop his pencil; instead he braced up his mind so as to overcome his hearing. The noise grew louder; it approached; it sounded as if on the threshold; then as if within the room. He looks behind him; sees and recognises the apparition of which he has been told. It was standing and beckoning to him with its finger, as if calling him. In answer our friend makes it a sign with his hand to wait a while, and once more applies himself to tablet and pencil. The ghost began to rattle its chains over his head while he was writing. He looks behind him again, sees it making the same signal as before, and promptly picks up the light and follows. It goes at a slow pace, as if burdened with chains, then, after turning into the open yard of the house, it suddenly vanishes and leaves him by himself. At this he gathers some grass and leaves, and marks the spot with them. The next day he goes to the magistrates and urges them to dig up the spot in question; and they find bones tangled with chains through which they were passed… These they put together and bury at the public charge. The spirit being thus duly, laid, the house was henceforward free of them."
Whatever the Roman beliefs on this point, so far as funeral rites and ceremonies were concerned, they were carried out simply in accordance with custom and tradition. The Romans of this date no more analysed their motives and sentiments than we do ours in dealing with such matters. They honoured the dead with funeral pomp and conspicuous monument; but, at the bottom, it was often more out of respect for themselves than because they imagined that it made any difference to the departed. In a very early age it had been considered that the spirit led in the underworld a feeble replica of human existence: it required food, playthings, utensils, money, as well as consideration. Hence food was periodically poured into the ground, playthings and utensils were burned on the pyre or laid in the coffin, and money was placed in that most primitive of purses, the mouth. Conservatism is nowhere so strong as in rites and ceremonies, and therefore the Romans continued to burn and bury articles along with the remains of the dead, and they continued to put a coin in the mouth before the burial. But it would be absurd to suppose that an intelligent Roman of our date would have offered the original and ancient motives for this conduct as rational motives still actuating himself. Enough that convention expected certain proceedings as "due" and "proper": a true Roman would not fail to perform what convention decreed.
[Illustration: FIG. 120.—"CONCLAMATIO" OF THE DEAD.]
Our friend the elder Silius dies a natural death, after completing the fullest public career. His family has its full share of both affection and pride, and therefore his obsequies will be worthy of his character and standing. When his Greek physician Hermogenes assures the watching family that life is departing, Marcia or Publius or Bassa will endeavour to catch the last breath with a kiss, and will then close the eyelids. Upon this all those who are present will call "Silius! Silius! Silius!" The original motive of this cry—which has its modern parallel in the case of a dead Pope—was to make sure that the man was actually dead and beyond reply. This point made certain, the professional undertaker is called in and instructed to take charge of all the proceedings usual in such cases. It is he who will provide the persons who are to wash and anoint the body and lay it in state, and also, on the day of the procession, the musicians, the wailing-women, the builders of the funeral pyre, and others who may be necessary, together with the proper materials and accessories. He will further see that the name of Quintus Silius Bassus is registered in the death-roll in the temple of "Juno the Death-Goddess," and that the registration fee is paid. The name will also appear in the next issue of the "Daily News." The body, anointed so as to preserve it till the third day, and dressed in the toga—which will be that of the highest position he ever occupied—is laid in state in the high reception-hall, with the feet pointing to the door. On the bier are wreaths, by it is burning a pan of incense, in or before the vestibule is placed a cypress tree or a number of cypress branches for warning information to the public.
On the day next but one after death the contractor, attended by subordinates dressed in black, marshals his procession. Though it is daytime, the procession will be accompanied by torches—another piece of conservatism reminiscent of the time when funerals took place at night, as they still did with children and commonly with the lower orders. First go the musicians, playing upon flageolet, trumpet, or horn; behind these, professional wailing-women, who raise loud lamentation and beat their breasts. Next come the wax-masks, already mentioned, of the distinguished ancestors of the Silii. These, which are life-like portraits, have been taken out of their cupboards in the wing of the reception-hall, and are worn over their faces by men of a build as nearly as possible resembling that of the ancestors represented. Each man also wears the insignia of the character for whom he stands. The more of such "effigies" a house could produce, the greater its glory. Such, however, was not the original purpose of this part of the procession, for—though it had doubtless been generally forgotten—the intention was to represent the deceased as being conducted into the underworld by an honourable company already established there. After the effigies comes that which would correspond to our hearse. It is, however, no hearse of the modern kind, but a bier or couch with the usual embellishment of ivory and with covers of purple worked with gold. On this the body lies, open to the sky, like that of Juliet. The bearers are either relatives or such slaves as have been set free under Silius's last will. Behind come the nearest relatives or heirs, the freedmen, friends, and clients, all clothed in black, except the women, who are in white, without colour or gold upon their dress. Young Publius will walk with his head covered by his toga; Bassa with her hair loose and dishevelled. The whole party will utter lamentations, though under more restraint than those of the professional women in front.
Silius having been a senator and a man of other official standing, the procession passes from the Caelian Hill along the Sacred Way to the Forum, as far as the Rostra or speaking-platform. There the bier is set down, the "ancestors" seat themselves on the folding-stools which were the old-fashioned chairs of the higher officers, and one of the relatives delivers an oration in praise, not only of Silius, but of his family as represented in the ancestors.
[Illustration: FIG. 121.—TOMB OF CAECILIA METELLA.]
[Illustration: FIG. 122.—STREET OF TOMBS. (POMPEII.)]
The procession then forms again, and the party proceeds to whatever place outside the walls may contain the family tomb of the Silii. No burial is allowed within the city proper, and for our purposes we will assume that the place is distant nearly a mile along the Appian Way. We will assume also that Silius is to be cremated, and not simply buried in a coffin or a marble sarcophagus. Few persons of the higher classes, except certain of the Cornelii, are buried at this date, although there is nothing in law or custom to prevent the choice. There exists no "crematorium," and the Silii are regularly burned at their own sepulchral allotment beside the "Queen of Roads."
If you were with the procession on this day you would find yourself before one of an almost continuous chain of monuments, built in all manner of shapes and sizes—such as great altars, small shrines, pyramids (like that of Cestius on another road), or round towers like the beautiful tomb of Caecilia Metella. The exterior of these structures is often adorned with commemorative or symbolic carvings, and the inside, which may be wholly above the surface or partly sunk beneath—is a chamber surrounded by niches, in which are placed the urns containing the ashes of the dead. Perhaps an illustration of the present state of the "Street of Tombs" at Pompeii will afford some notion, although the sepulchres of that provincial place by no means matched those upon the various roads outside the Roman gates. Often the monumental chamber stands somewhat back from the road, leaving space for a large semicircular seat of stone open to public use, its back wall being inscribed with some statement of honour to the family. Round the sepulchre—"where all the kindred of the Silii lie" is a space of ground, planted with shrubs and trees, and surrounded by a low wall. Somewhere near, on an open level, the funeral pile has been built of pine-logs, with the interstices stuffed with pitch, brushwood, or other inflammable material. It is natural that the pyre should take the shape of an altar and that cypress branches should lean against the sides.
Upon the summit of this pile is laid Silius on his bier; incense and unguents are shed over him; wreaths and other offerings, often of no little value, are cast upon the heap. While loud cries of lamentation are being raised by the company present, a near kinsman approaches the pile with a torch, and, turning his face away, sets fire to the whole structure. It speedily burns down, the last embers are quenched with wine, the general company thrice cries "farewell," and, except for the nearest relatives, the procession returns to the city. The relatives who stay take off their shoes, wash their hands, and proceed to gather up the bones—which they cleanse in wine and milk—and the ashes, which they mix with perfume. These remains are then placed in the urn of bronze, marble, alabaster, or maybe of coloured glass, and the urn fills one more niche in the chamber of the monument.
[Illustration: FIG. 123.—COLUMBARIUM.]
Now and then there were more magnificent obsequies than those of Silius. A "public" funeral might be decreed to a man who had deserved conspicuously well of the state. On such an occasion the crier would go round, calling "Oyez, come all who choose to the funeral of So-and-So." The invitation meant, not merely participation in a solemn procession, but also in the funeral feast, and probably an exhibition of gladiators. On the other hand the majority of burials were naturally of a far more simple and inexpensive kind. The poor could not afford to use unguents and keep their dead till the third day; they could not afford real cypress trees, but must use cheaper substitutes, if anything at all. They could not afford all the processionists and paraphernalia of the undertaker, but must be satisfied with four commonplace bearers, who hurried away the corpse in the evening, not on a couch but in a cheap box, and carried it out to the common necropolis beyond the Esquiline Gate. Seldom could they afford the fuel to burn the body, and in many cases it must simply be thrown into a pit roughly dug and there left without monument. To secure more respect and decency there were many burial clubs, whether connected with the trade-guilds or not, and these procured a joint tomb of the kind known as a "dovecote," or columbarium, from the resemblance of its niches to so many pigeon-holes. These cooperative sepulchres were underground vaults, and it is perhaps hardly necessary to point out their direct relation to the Christian catacombs. Similar tombs were sometimes used by the great Roman families for the remains of the freedmen and slaves of their house.
[Illustration: FIG. 124.—TEMPLE OF JUPITER ON THE CAPITOL (Platform omitted).]
INDEX
Actors, contempt for, 268 Advertisements, 257 Aemilia, Basilica, 108 Africa, 45 Age, coming of, 332 Agriculture, implements of, 252 Alexander the Great, 34 Alexandria, 14, 25, 34, 44 Amphitheatres, 280 performances, 282 Amulets, 318 Andalusia, 36 Antioch, 14, 43 Appian Way, 22, 118 Aqueducts, 136 Architecture, 112, 422-424 Argiletum, the, 108 Aristocrat, clients of, 206 daily life of, 193 dress of, 196 as pleader in law-courts, 216 social duties of, 217 Army, the, 12, 52, 338-358 artillery, 356 auxiliaries, 352 camping arrangements, 349 cavalry, 339, 353, 356 composition, 339 dress and equipment, 342 Imperial Guards, 353 infantry, 339, 352 legionaries, 339 pay and rations, 344 promotion, 347 terms of service, 340 training, 340, 345 typical soldier's life, 342-350 Art, 416-433 apparent lack of artistic feeling, 429 contempt for professional artists, 428 influence of Greece, 421 profession and quality of, 416-420 statues, 418, 424 wall-paintings, 425-428 Artemis, temple of, 42 Artillery, 356 Asia Minor, towns of, 42 Astronomy, 359 Athens, 40 Athletics, 263 Auctioneers, receipt tablets of, 250 Augustus, title of emperor, 55 Augustus, Forum of, 188 mausoleum of, 120 Authors, amateur, 219, 235
Baetica (see Andalusia)
Bakers, 248
Bandits, 24
Banking, 216, 239
Basilica Aemilia, 108
of Julius, 106
Baths, 122, 124
Beard, method of wearing, 195
Beds, 182
Beggars, 243
Betrothal ceremony, 296
Boadicea, 39
Books, size and shape of, 335-337
Booksellers, 109, 247
Boots (see Shoes)
Boxing-gloves, 265
Breakfast, 200
Britain, 39
Burial, 434-447
funeral rites, 439-445
offerings to the dead, 438
tombs, 444, 446
Caligula, 73, 95, 115, 234 Camps, military, 349 Campus Martius, the, 120 Carpets, absence of, 180 Carriages, 19 regulation of traffic, 131 Cavalry, 339, 353, 356 Census of Augustus, 85 Chariot-races, 263, 274, 280 colours in, 274, 278 horses, 275 prizes, 278 procession of chariots, 277 Charts, 18 Chemistry, 402 Children: ceremony at birth and naming, 317 coming of age, 332 early life, 319 education, 320-335 parental power over, 315-317 privileges of parents, 314 registration, 318 Christians, earlier tolerance towards, 383 their subsequent persecution, 79, 384-387 Circus Maximus, 128, 173 Citizens: as clients of the wealthy, 206 doles of corn and money to, 242 freed slaves may become, 204 rights of, 56, 92 Civilisation, Roman, 30 Greek, 32 Asiatic, 33 Claqueurs, in law-courts, 217 in theatres, 273 Nero's use of, 77 Class distinctions, 66 Clients, 206, 222, 245 dinner to, 235 escort to patron, 211 literary, 208 Cloaks, 220 Clocks, water, 192 "Colony," formation of, 84 Columbarium, joint sepulchre, 447 Commerce, 36 Concord, Temple of, 105 Concrete, extensive use of, in building, 138 Consulship, the, 359 Cook-shops, 258 Corinth, 40 Corn, monthly allowances of, 242 corn-lands, 45 Couches, 181, 226 Cremation, 445 Crops, rotation of, 252 Customs duties, 87 Cynics, the, 412
Damascus, 44
Dancing girls, 232
Dead, offerings to the, 438
Decoration, house, 150, 164
in theatres, 267
Deities, festivals of, 261
household, 376
official duties to, 374
variety of, 362, 366, 368
Delphi, 40
Dicing, 232, 258
Dinners:
conversation and entertainment at, 231, 235
description of, 229, 234
exaggerated accounts, 228
extravagance of Court, 234
to clients, 235
wine at, 233
Dissection, human, prohibition of, 404
Divorce, 304
Doles of corn and money, 242
Doors, 145
Dowry, 299
Drainage, 161
Drama, low level of the, 268, 270
Dress:
distinctions of, 65
for dinner, 226
hats, 212
mantles, 221, 274
military, 342
toga, 197, 332
theatrical, 269
typical aristocrat's, 196
women's, 308-313
Druids, the, 382
Education:
of boys, 321-326
of girls, 327
ideal of, 320
physical training, 331
primary and secondary, 327-331
Egypt, 45
Elections, municipal, 255
Emblems, city, 47
Emperor, the:
dependence upon the army, 52
nomination of Senators by, 60
powers of, 50
and the Senate, 57
symbolic character of statue, 386
Empire, the Roman:
Eastern and Western halves, 35
extent, 6, 8
expeditions, 7
government, 9
military and naval forces, 12
provinces, 30
roads, 16
security under, 12
Ephesus, 42
Epicureans, the, 407-409
Etiquette, exactions of, 217
Euclid, 401
Festivals, 261 Field-glass, primitive, 275 Fingers, use of, at meals, 228 Fires, destructive, 98, 133 Floors, 149, 180 Flour-mills, 248 Food, 200, 230, 258 Foreigners, 67 Forum, the, 102 public life in, 214 "Free" towns, 90 Freedmen, 204, 245 wealth of, 205 Freethought, 378-381 "Friends of Caesar," 211 Frontiers, protection of, 12 Fullers, 250 Funeral rites, 439-445 Furniture: beds, 182 chairs and couches, 181 chests, 185 kitchen utensils, 189 lamps, 186 mirrors, 186 silver and glass ware, 188 tables, 183 tripods, 184
Games, 214, 222, 232, 262 Gaul, 37 tribes of, 38 Geographical knowledge, 398-401 Ghosts, belief in, 435-437 Gladiators, 264, 280, 282, 285-288 female spectators at combats, 288 "Golden House," the, 116 "Golden Milestone," the, 105 Goldsmiths, 250 Government, system of, 49 emperor, 50 "knights," 63 provinces, 82-95 Senate, 56 tribunes, 53 Governors, provincial, dress of, 93 duties, 91 emoluments, 94 Greece, indebtedness to, 32 influence of art of, 421 language and culture, 34 scientific thought, 397 Greeks, prominence of, 67 Greeting, manner of 211 Guards, Imperial, 353 Guides, professional, 19 Guilds, trade, 254
Hair, method of wearing, 37, 195 298, 311
Hairpins, 311
Hats, 212
Health resorts, 174
Heating, domestic, 161
Holidays, 254
number of, 260
Homestead, country, 169
Horses, in chariot-races, 275
Hotels, scarcity of, 22
Hour of rising, 195
House, country, 175-179
House, typical town, 143-163
decoration, 150, 164
dining-rooms, 155
doors, 145
exterior, 144
floors, 149
garden, 154, 156
hall, 148
heating system, 161
kitchen, 156
library and picture-gallery, 158
lighting, 145, 150, 153, 160, 186
peristyle, 154
reception-room, 153
roofs, 141, 162
shrine, 157, 376
water-supply and drainage, 160
vestibule, 146
Houses, 131
height of, 131, 139
lighting of, 141
tenement blocks,140
Imperial Guards, 353
Infantry, 339, 352
Inns, 20
Instruments, musical, 430
Interest, rates of, 239
Isis-worship, 373
Italy, 30
Janitors, 209
Janus, Temple of, 110
Jerusalem, 14, 44
Jewelry, female love of, 297, 312
Jews, colony of, 67
rebellious among, 10
toleration shown to, 382
Jove, Temple of, 105
Julius, Basilica of, 106
Jurymen, 217
Juvenal, on marriage, 293
Kissing, excessive, 211
Kitchens, 156, 170, 189
"Knights," order of:
composition, 63
dress, 66
occupations, 238
privileges, 64
Knives and forks, absence of, 189, 228
Lamps, 186 Land-tax, 85 Land-travelling, 16-25 Language, 32, 36, 91 of the people, 258 predominance of the Greek, 34 Law-courts, pleaders in, 216 president and jury, 217 Learning, tastes in, 398 Legacies, 314 Legions, number and name of, 341 strength, 339 Life, social, aristocratic, 193-237 middle and lower class, 238-259 Literature, 394-396 literary dependants, 208 Litter, 211 Loafers, 241 Local government, 89 Lugdunum (Lyons), 14, 38 Luncheon, 219
Macedonia, 40
Marriage, 220
betrothal ceremony, 296
divorce, 304
dowry, 299
festivities, 300
two forms of, 290
Juvenal on, 293
legal age for, 294
not based on love, 292, 294
matrimonial freedom, 291
morganatic, 295
wedding ceremony, 297
Mars, Temple of, 118
Martial on country life, 172
Masks:
at funerals, 152, 440
theatrical, 268
Mathematics, 401
Mausoleum of Augustus, 120
Meals:
breakfast, 200
luncheon, 219
dinner, 226, 229
Medicine, 403
Mediterranean Sea, 46
Milestones, 18, 28
Mines, 37
Mirrors, 186
Money-lending, 238
Morals, 378
Municipal elections, 255
Music, as part of education, 331, 341
fondness for, 430
instruments, 430
Mysticism, 372
Names, family, 194
of slaves, 204
Navy, 12
Nero:
musical eccentricities of, 78
persecution of Christians by, 79, 383, 387
personal appearance, 80, 213
powers vested in, 55, 71
reception by, 213
reign, 74
vices and follies 75, 116
New Year's Day, 262
News-sheets, official, 215
Noises, street, 134, 195
Oath of obedience, military, 342
Officials, public, 358
Oratory, school of, 329
Ornament, architectural, 112, 423
Paintings, wall, 325-328 Palatine Hill, 115 Pantheon, the, 121 Papyri, 336 Passes, Alpine, 39 Patriotism, municipal, 90 Paul, St., 34, 42, 80, 197, 383, 413 Pax Romana, the 9, 12 Pedigrees, 152 "People," the, 67, 241 doles of corn and money to, 242 Person-tax, 87 Philosophy, study of, 332-335, 380 Pipes, lead, 160 Pliny the elder, literary industry of, 390-392 Pliny the younger, 236, 294, 305, 321, 392, 435 Plutarch, 334, 395 Police, soldiers as, 14 Polytheism, 364 Population of the city, 101 Portugal, 37 Present-giving, prominence of, 262 Priests, 361 Processions: chariot, 227 funeral, 440 wedding, 300 Proconsuls, 93 Provinces, 30 civilisation of, 31 commerce, 36 contributions by, 85 distinctions between, 35 government, 82-95 language, 32 Public service, 358-360 Publicans (tax-collectors), 89, 240
Record Office, the, 105
Religion, 333, 361-387
attitude of state towards, 361-364, 370
conservatism in, 364, 368
free-thought, 378-381
mixed elements, 370
mysticism in, 372
polytheistic character of, 364
priests, 361
private observances, 375
superstitions in, 371
tolerance in, 381
treatment of Christians, 383-387
Rhodes, 42
Rings, 200
Roads, military, 16
construction and upkeep, 18
variety of traffic, 22
Rome in A.D., 64
appearance, 96-100
baths, 122
extent and population, 100-102
habits of the people, 102
public buildings, 102-129
streets, 130-138
theatres, 123
Roofs 141, 162
Rostra, the, 104
Sandals, 309 Saturn, Temple of, 105 Saturnalia, the, 261 Schools, 321-331 Science, 396-405 Sculpture, 418, 424 Sea-travelling, 25-28 Senate, the, 56, 71 imperial nomination to, 60 qualifications for membership, 59 relations with the emperor, 57, 72 senators' dress, 65 training of members, 62 Senate-House, the, 109 Seneca, 395 Sewers, 130 Ships, 26 Shoes, 197,310 Shops, 133, 141, 222 Shrine, household 159, 376 Sidon, 44 Signs, trade, 251 Slaves, 68, 206, 211, 240 citizenship bestowed on, 204 domestic, 201 dress, 202 licence at Saturnalia, 261 as musicians, 431 names, 204 occupations, 246 treatment, 203 Smyrna, 42 Snails, breeding of, 46 Social life, of aristocrats, 193-237 of middle and lower classes, 238-259 Spain, 36 Spoons, 228 Sports, 178, 263 Statues, 418, 424 Stoics, the, 409-412 Strabo, 379 Streets, 130 narrowness of, 132 noisiness, 134, 195 paving, 137 regulation of traffic, 131 Suicide, attitude regarding, 23 Sun-dials, 191 Superstitions, 371 Surgery, 404
Tarragona, 37
Tarsus, 42
Taxes:
collection 89, 240
farming of, 239
land, 85
miscellaneous 88
personal, 87
Temple, description of, 123, 265
Temples: of
Concord, 105
Janus, 110
Jove, 105
Mars, 118
Saturn, 105
Vesta, 114
Theatres, 123, 265
actors' status 268
claqueurs, 273
compared with Greek, 266
curtain, 267
decoration, 267
masks and dresses, 268
music and dancing, 270
plays performed, 268, 270-273
scenery, 267
seats, 267
women's presence not encouraged, 266
Tiles, 157, 162
Time, method of telling, 192
Toga:
colours of 218
compulsory use on formal occasions 198
distinctive meaning of, 197, 214
Toleration, religious, 381
Tombs, 253, 444
Trade guilds 254
signs, 251
Trade routes, 27
Travelling, land and sea:
accommodation, 20
dangers 24, 29
modes, 19
period and routes, 25
speed, 25, 28
"Tribunes of the commons," 53
Tunics, 196, 308
Tyre, 44, 45
Utensils, kitchen, 189
Vehicles, 19
Vesta, Temple of, 114
Water-clocks, 192
Water-supply, 135, 160
Wedding ceremony, 297
Wild-beast fights, 282, 284
Windows, 141, 145, 150, 60
Wine, 233, 241
Women:
fondness for jewelry, 297, 312
divorce, 304
domestic virtues, 307
dowry, 299
dress, 308-313
marriageable age, 294
position after marriage, 289, 301
presence at theatres not encouraged, 266
property after marriage, 299, 302
types of, 302, 306
Working-classes, the, 214
competition with slave-labour 246
dress and food 258
language 258
life of 253, 256
professions all ranked among, 258
Writing materials, 323, 337
Youths:
coming of age of 218, 382
military training, 338