The Comic History of Rome

In personal appearance Sulla was by no means attractive; for he had a quantity of green in his eye, an abundance of red in his hair, and a profusion of purple in his countenance. His face was, like his character, full of spots; and those who accused him of aspiring to the purple, said the fact might be read in his look, for his cheeks were of blue, and caused himself, as well as his acts, to wear a very dark complexion. He was coarse in his manners, and had no appreciation of any kind of delicacy but the delicacies of the table. Notwithstanding the unpleasant features of Sulla's person and character, he was married five times; for divorce had become so easy, that a man could always put his old wife away when he wished for a new one.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH.

REACTION AGAINST THE POLICY OF SULLA. SERVICES OF Q. SERTORIUS.
METELLUS. CN. POMPEY. SPIRITED STEPS OF SPARTACUS. THE
IRATE PIRATE.

he tyrannical acts of Sulla had smothered, but not extinguished, the flame of liberty, and every piece of injustice had been so much fuel heaped upon a smouldering fire. At the death of Sulla, the population consisted of little else than those who had been beggared by a rapacious soldiery, and the military desperadoes who had done the tyrant's work; a melancholy combination of the victimisers and the victimised. The Consuls were M. Æmilius Lepidus and Q. Lutatius Catulus; the former having enriched himself by connexion with the dictator's party, but the tide having turned, he turned with it, in the hope that it might again lead on to fortune. Catulus, on the other hand, adhered to the policy of Sulla; and there being reason to fear that the two Consuls would get up a quarrel—in the course of which the lookers-on would be robbed—the Senate made the Consuls swear that they would not take up arms against each other. The oath was readily taken, and no less readily broken by those republican chiefs, who came into violent collision near the very gates of Rome; and Lepidus, having got the worst of it, fled to Sardinia, where, having laid down his plans for the future, he laid down himself, and died rather unexpectedly.

Several of the laws of Sulla were so manifestly unjust as to be indefensible even by his own partisans; and many of them were repealed under various consulships. Cn. Pompey, who had been a warm adherent of the dictator, had a much warmer feeling for himself, and he courted popular favour by the promise of many reforms which involved a compromise of his former principles. The republic was, in fact, the sport of a set of unprincipled men, who were trying, by every artifice and crime, to get to the head of it. They cared nothing for the public interests, but thought only of their own; which will be too often the case when the chief power in the state is open to any who will make the highest bid for it. Pompey had gone into the market with his abilities when tyranny required tools; but perceiving that demagogues were now in demand, he endeavoured to make a profit of popular principles. Others had embarked on the same voyage, shifting their course with the breath of public opinion, and having no rudder but self-interest. One of these was L. Licinius Lucullus, a man of excessive wealth, which he used, or rather abused, in excessive luxury. He employed art for the purpose of opposing nature; and, among other pieces of prodigality, he endeavoured to convert a portion of the sea into a private fish-pond. This he attempted at his winter residence near Naples; where, by a cutting through the rocks he formed an opening into the bay, and kept upon his own premises a continual supply of fresh fish in a reservoir of salt water. His tastes were not, however, limited to the pleasures of the dinner-table; for he had not only studied the law, and had the Twelve Tables at his fingers' ends, but he had collected a library of such vast extent, that it comprehended a store of information far beyond the comprehension of its owner.

M. Licinius Crassus was another candidate for power, which he sought rather by means of his wealth, than his talents; for he had far more money than wit; and Crassus often evinced signs of crass ignorance.

Almost the only illustrious man of the period was C. Julius Cæsar, who could turn his hand, no matter what was in it, to anything. He was as ready with the pen as with the sword; but the latter was not sharper than his tongue; while his mind was so capacious and elastic, that it could adapt itself to small or great things with equal facility. A very little subject is often lost in the vast expanse of a very great intellect; and a diminutive understanding cannot afford space for the admission of a grand idea; but there was suitable accommodation for either one or the other, or both at once, in the self-adapting mind of Cæsar. He was an author without jealousy, a scholar without pedantry, and a politician without quackery.

These, and other illustrious men, flourished in Rome about this time; but Pompey, who had a natural love of pomp, possessed the art of concentrating upon himself the rays reflected from the brilliant personages who surrounded him; so that it was difficult to distinguish at all times between him and the other men of distinction of the period.

During the lifetime of Sulla, Q. Sertorius had been serving, or rather commanding, in Spain, where he held the post of prætor, and was engaged in keeping the interests of his party—that of Marius—alive, by killing all who were opposed to them. His professed object was to unite Spaniards and Romans as one people; but his mode of reconciling any differences was to put to the sword those who, after he had put their opinions to the test, were found to disagree with him. Sulla had sent an army, under C. Annius, to attack Sertorius in Spain, when Sertorius, looking upon C. Annius as a mere deputy, with whom a deputy on his side might deal, despatched Julius Salinator to meet the envoy. The result proved that the prætor had done wisely in acting on his discretion, rather than giving way to any sudden impulse of valour; for Salinator, whom he had sent as a substitute for himself, was killed, when, in his capacity of proxy, he approximated too closely to the enemy.

Sertorius, who had sent out Salinator as a sort of feeler—not exactly expecting that the latter would have to feel his death-blow—perceived there was little prospect of his own success; and he made his escape to Africa. While in Mauritania, having no quarrel of his own, he interfered in the quarrels of other people; and there being two claimants to the Mauritanian crown, he supported one, and—by way of keeping his hand in—picked the pocket of the other. His meddling having paid him extremely well, he made up his mind and his luggage to retire into private life, and an account he had heard of the Canary Islands tempted him to deposit his well-feathered nest in that congenial locality.

The Lusitanians, however, who had been robbed by the Romans belonging to Sulla's party, having a vague idea of the propriety of setting a thief to catch a thief, entreated Sertorius to defend them against their enemies. The engagement was entered into after some little delay as to the terms; when Sertorius set to work with so much ardour, that he was soon fighting four Roman generals at once; and, what was still more remarkable, he was getting decidedly the best of it. His mode of warfare was to pour down from one fastness to another with such speed, that his foes never knew where to have him, until he had them in the most unexpected manner. If they began to march, says Plutarch, he was upon their heels,—if they sat still, he was upon their back,—and if they invested a town, he turned the investment to his own profit by intercepting all their convoys. The enemy had no resource against his arms but their own legs, for flight was their sole safeguard.

Not satisfied with fighting the battles of the Spaniards, he began regulating their civil domestic affairs, and endeavoured to translate the Spanish into the Roman character. His object was to establish a Roman republic in Spain; but it is difficult to manufacture a foreign article of native materials. He appointed 300 persons as a senate; and, though the greater part were Spaniards, he took as many proscribed Romans as he could find, in the hope that they would serve as a sort of Roman cement, to make it hold together. He established a school—a classical academy—where Latin and Greek were taught, and where the pupils wore boys' tunics, after the Roman fashion.

Sertorius was a general favourite with all classes, besides the classes of the school; and happening to have a favourite fawn, which followed him wherever he went, flattery declared the fawn was sent him by the gods, as a mark of favour.

Fortune appeared to favour him in all he undertook; and even Q. Metellus, with a large army, could produce no effect,—a failure that was attributed to the age and imbecility of that illustrious veteran. Sertorius was joined by Perperna, who, on the strength of the forces he brought, expected to share in the command; but such is the influence of success, that Perperna's men repudiated their own leader, and insisted on having Sertorius as their general.

The constant arrival of unfavourable news at Rome, at length induced Pompey to exclaim—"This will never do; I must go and settle the matter myself;" for Pompey's conceit induced him to conceive that he should easily conquer Sertorius. The latter was besieging Lauro, the modern Liria, to which the former advanced for the purpose of relieving it. There was, near the walls, a hill that it was important to possess, and both parties tried for it; but Sertorius, setting his eye on the top, was the first to get up to it. Pompey, with consummate vanity, expressed his determination to dislodge the fellow forthwith, and sent a message to the town, desiring the inhabitants to sit upon the walls, that they might see how cleverly he would dispose of their enemy. Sertorius, on hearing the boast, observed, smilingly, that "a general should watch behind as well as before,"—an observation that Pompey, who did not see behind him at the time, would often afterwards look back upon. Sertorius had, in fact, a very considerable reserve, with which he hemmed the besiegers in while he burned the inhabitants out, to the utter astonishment of Pompey, who, though near enough to the flames to warm his hands, could not interfere without burning his fingers.

Pompey was, nevertheless, impatient to measure swords with Sertorius; an operation which, though it seems indicative of coming to close quarters, must always keep a soldier at arm's length, at least, from his antagonist. Desirous of all the glory that might be obtained, Pompey, hearing that Metellus was coming up with assistance, resolved on precipitating a battle, and he accordingly commenced one rather late in the afternoon, though he knew he might be quite in the dark as to the issue. Sertorius and Pompey each advanced at the head of a division, but by some accident they did not happen to meet; and each of them came back to the main body of his army with the conviction that he had been victorious. On the renewal of the conflict the generals met, the armies knocked their two heads together, when Pompey, being stunned by the blow, and having no one to advise him what to do, took to flight for the purpose of consulting his own safety.

Though apparently invincible by his enemies, Sertorius was not safe from his friends, for he was murdered at a dinner-party given to him by Perperna. The cloth had not been removed, when Sertorius was startled by a singular entrée, in the shape of a band of assassins, who set upon him and slew him. So much was he respected by the Spaniards, that it is said his death brought dying suddenly into fashion, and many killed themselves at his funeral, for the purpose of taking Sertorius as their pattern. Perperna immediately declared himself commander-in-chief, but he was quite unfit for the place, and in his very first engagement he was cut to pieces, with the whole of his army. Whether they were literally cut to pieces, is a matter of doubt to us, though the account is placidly adopted by the graver historians; but when we consider the quantity of cutting and coming again of the same parties—as exemplified particularly in the case of the Samnites—which we are continually called upon to place faith in, we find belief rather difficult.

While these things were proceeding in Spain, the slaves were going on in the most perplexing manner in Italy and its neighbourhood. Some of the ablest of them had been trained in gladiatorial schools to afford amusement in the Circus; but this outrage to humanity brought much misery in its train to those who were the cause of it. The slaves were exercised in the use of all sorts of weapons, and humanity was lowered by hiring them out for shows on public occasions. Being skilled in the employment of the sword, they began to think of wielding it against their oppressors, instead of trying it upon each other, and about seventy of them escaped under the leadership of a Thracian of their body, named Spartacus. Being unprovided with arms, they plundered the cook-shops, where they seized spits for spears, skewers for daggers, carving knives for swords, dripping-pans for shields, and basting-spoons for general purposes. They next entered the shops of the carpenters, and seized the tools of the workmen, many of whom concealed the implements of their industry; but, if a saw happened to show its teeth, it was immediately captured. Their party, though at first small, was increased by all the runaway debtors of the district; for it is a remarkable fact that those who owe privately more than they can pay, are often foremost among those who talk the loudest about what they owe to the public interests. They took up their position on Mount Vesuvius—an appropriate place for a breaking out—and their numbers having swelled to 10,000, they poured themselves down, like a devastating stream of lava, on many neighbouring towns, which were speedily laid in ashes. Spartacus pushed forward as far as the foot of the Alps; but his followers were intent on returning to Rome, in order to sack it, and add its contents to their baggage. M. Licinius Crassus was sent after him; and having undertaken to overtake him, came up with him in Lucania. The slaves fought like lions, or, rather, with the ferocity of the brutes with whom they had been taught to contend, and were, in some instances, victorious.

Crassus had sent Mummius to keep the army in check, but the latter had received particular directions not to fight; for the object of the republican general was to take all the glory for himself, irrespective of his country's interests. Mummius, however, had the same feeling, and was desirous of winning a reputation, regardless of the orders of his superior; for he knew that a military success, in the unstable condition of the executive, would, however irregular, be passed over by the people, and perhaps made a stepping-stone for himself to supreme power. His men, who were not actuated by the same personal motives as himself, saw the insufficiency of their force, and, being seized with a panic, ran away, without stopping to draw their swords from their scabbards. Spartacus formed the idea of passing into Sicily, and proceeded to Rhegium, where he bargained with some pirates to supply him with vessels; but after pretending much friend-ship, they never furnished him with any ship at all, though he had paid the knaves the price of a small navy.

Spartacus found himself blockaded in Rhegium; and Crassus, cutting a trench all round, thought to prevent all egress from the place; but neither Crassus nor his trench proved deep enough to answer the purpose proposed, for Spartacus filled up a portion of the ditch, and walked over it. Crassus, now fearing that his cause was lost, sent to Rome for the assistance of Pompey, who, priding himself on his previous victories, and mentally ejaculating, "I'm the only man; they 're always obliged to send for me," proceeded to meet Spartacus. No sooner had Crassus sent for help, than he recovered from his panic, and sent to say he should require no aid; but he had calculated in the absence of the host, for when the host of Spartacus appeared, Crassus found it no easy matter to contend with them. The latter, however, grown too confident of success, determined on running the chance of striking or receiving a decisive blow, notwithstanding the misgivings of their leader.

Spartacus commenced the day by sending for his horse, and killing it, to the utter astonishment of the spectators, and the intense bewilderment of the unfortunate animal. "If I win the day," said he, "I shall have many better horses; but if I lose it, the poor creature would be useless to me in my very humble walk of life, or my more probable walk out of it." Such was his only mode of accounting for an act, which none who pitied the suffering of an equine animal could regard with equanimity. On the day of the battle, Spartacus was soon wounded, but falling on his knees, he continued to fight in that uneasy position. Being at last overpowered, he fell, with 40,000 of his men, who, according to the authorities, were sent to destruction; but though there is no hesitation in saying where they went, the question where they came from, is one which the grave historians have paid no attention to. Of the whole 40,000 who are said to have been found dead upon the field, it is asserted that two only had their backs to the foe; but we suspect that if there had been time for the defeated to have turned themselves round, there would have been many more in the same position.

Crassus marched towards Rome, expecting to be received with enthusiasm; but Pompey who had met and exterminated 3000 Thracians, sent a letter home, declaring that "what Crassus had done was all very well, but that he (Pompey) had really put an end to the war by his act of determined butchery." Knowing the value attached by a military republic to a sanguinary act, he was sanguine enough to expect the office of Consul. This he obtained in conjunction with his rival Crassus, who laid himself out, and laid out a considerable sum of money as well, for the purchase of mob popularity. He gave the people corn for nothing, and invited them to dinner-parties of 10,000 at a time; but his prodigality only proves the extent of his plunder, for nothing could have gone into the public mouth, but that which had in some shape or other come out of the public pocket. Pompey, on the other hand, practised the profession of humility, which perhaps answered better in a double sense; for it was certainly cheaper, and possibly somewhat more effective, than ostentatious prodigality. He used to lead his own horse in a procession, to show that he was a simple eques, on a footing of equality with other citizens. When his consulship was at an end, he retired into a private station, where he lived like a prince—a style that seems to be much in favour with those who preach the doctrine of perfect equality.

It was impossible for such an active participator in public affairs to remain wholly idle; and the alarming spread of piracy soon gave him an opportunity for really honourable distinction. The pirates were becoming a scourge to Rome, but Rome had richly deserved it, for it had been her own injustice that had called into existence these dangerous enemies to humanity. They consisted, in the first instance, of men ruined by Roman extortion, who took to the mountains and the sea, where the true excitement of the ups and downs of life may be most vividly experienced. These men had in time been joined by the once rich and noble, some of whom, having sold the wives and families they could no longer keep, began to plough the ocean as the only field of enterprise. Piracy thus became a regular business of man, just as in more civilised times it has become a regular part of the business of bookselling. Towns were plundered, the cattle were carried off, and the inhabitants walked off to captivity. The rich were frequently kidnapped on the roads, and nothing but a handsome ransom would obtain their liberty.

The pirates had been often reduced, but had never been rooted out; and the tribune, A. Gabinius, proposed, therefore, that Pompey should be called upon to do extraordinary things with extraordinary powers. He was to have supreme command for three years, during which period he was to have whatever was asked, and to order everybody or everything that he required. He took his own measures extremely well, and took the measure of the pirates also with such effect, that he soon drove them from all their fastnesses, with a speed quite marvellous.

Though his extraordinary powers had been conferred upon him for three years, he had such still more extraordinary power over himself, that he made a voluntary surrender of the former, when the object for which they had been entrusted to him was accomplished. Everything was achieved in three months, during which period he had taken several towns, none of which he had kept to himself, though one of them, in Cilicia, called Soli, he made a solitary exception of, by giving it the name of Pompeiopolis. The people of Soli talked a mixed dialect of Asiatic and Greek, which caused such a confusion of speech, that a great deal of confounded nonsense was the result; and it is said that the word solecism, as applied to an inaccuracy of speech, is derived from the name of the place alluded to.

That the Romans should have been hostile to piracy is somewhat inconsistent with the principle, or rather the want of principle, on which they acted themselves, for they pirated almost everything. Their literature was mere piracy from the Greeks; and according to some authorities, the Romans pirated even from the pirates themselves; for the former are said to have pirated from the latter the idea of the system of the Zodiac.

The pirates carried on their lawless trade with such success, that they had a fleet of more than 1000 galleys, many of them being handsomely gilded—a fact that glossed over in the eyes of many the iniquity of the means by which such wealth had been acquired. A dash of gaiety is said to have pervaded the enormities of these lawless depredators; and when among their prisoners they captured a Roman of high rank, they would politely request him to walk into the sea; for "to enslave one of the lords of the earth was an act they could not think of being guilty of." Young Julius Cæsar, who fell into their hands when a mere boy, on his voyage to Rhodes, appears to have met them more than half way in their sallies of humour. They asked twenty talents for his ransom, when he offered them fifty; and even then was so little anxious to leave them, that he remained thirty-eight days after having paid his money and become entitled to his quittance. During his stay among them he wrote satirical verses on their barbarous mode of life, and parried off their swords by the still keener weapons of ridicule. The pirates were amused by the sallies of their prisoner, who conveyed to them all the bluntness of truth in all the sharpness of epigram. They were sorry enough to part with him, when the money for his ransom arrived; but they had reason to be still more sorry when they met him again; for when he did so, it was only to capture them and carry them to Pergamus.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.

THE THIRD MITHRIDATIC WAR. DEPOSITION AND DEATH OF
MITHRIDATES.

While Pompey had been busy in punishing the pirates, Rome had something to fear from another quarter; for Mithridates had been everywhere beating up for recruits to beat down the Commonwealth. He was extremely rich, and had an army of 150,000 men; for the trade of war is unhappily one of those in which there is never any lack of hands ready to wage war, when their wages can be relied upon.

Bithynia was one of the first objects of the attack of Mithridates, who was opposed by the Consul, M. Cotta; but the place was burned to the ground, and the ashes of poor Cotta were found in the condition of terra cotta among the ruins. Lucullus, the colleague of Cotta, was sent into Asia with a great army, which attacked Mithridates with such effect, that the king only saved his own life by emptying his pockets of all the money he had about him, and making a scramble of it among the hostile soldiers. The mercenaries, in fighting with each other for the loose silver, forgot to make sure of the sovereign. Mithridates fled to his son-in-law Tigranes, who, having named the metropolis Tigranocerta, after himself, had established himself as King of Armenia. Lucullus proceeded across the Tigris, and required that Mithridates should be given up; but Tigranes, looking at his venerable though determined father-in-law, referred the legate for an answer to the old gentleman. The King of Pontus answered by requesting that the enemy would come and take him, which the Romans were actually about to do, when Mithridates and Tigranes thought it safer to run for their lives; Tigranes ingloriously taking his crown from his head, and putting it in his pocket, to avoid being recognised.

The treasury of Tigranocerta, with a surplus of two millions sterling, fell into the hands of the Romans, who seized on the spoil, and who had become so independent by their temporary wealth, that they criticised, approved, and abused or disobeyed, when and why they pleased, the orders of their general.

Mithridates, taking advantage of this state of things, collected a numerous army, and fell wherever he could upon the Roman garrisons. On one occasion he approached so near the enemy as to be within a stone's throw, and as they happened to be throwing stones, he received one on the knee; while an arrow, fixing itself under the eye, at once opened it to the full extent of his danger. He soon recovered from the effect of his wounds, and was ready by the ensuing spring to attack C. Triarius, when a Roman soldier, disguised as a native, pretended to whisper something in the ear of Mithridates, at the same time giving him a most unfriendly poke in the ribs with a concealed weapon. The King was so unprepared for the wound that he fainted right away, and his troops were so taken up in catching him, that they forgot to catch the foe, who were suffered to escape, though they might otherwise have been easily seized upon. Mithridates, having come to, expressed his anger at the carelessness of his officers, and, notwithstanding his wound and his age, he would have attempted the pursuit—under difficulties—of the enemy. The next morning he renewed the attack on Triarius, and cut to pieces 7000 men; an operation, however, which seems almost too extensive for even the scissors of Fate, and we cannot help regarding it, therefore, as a sheer invention of the graver historians.

Pompey was now sent to supersede Lucullus in the command; a measure that had become doubly necessary, for Lucullus had not only failed as a leader, but his soldiers were daily refusing to follow him. When his troops approached within a short distance of Mithridates, they seemed more inclined to engage with him in a friendly than in a hostile sense, for many of them joined his forces. Soon after the arrival of Pompey, a battle was fought by night on the banks of the Euphrates. The moon, being near its setting, had lengthened the reflection cast by the Roman troops, and the soldiers of Mithridates, mistaking the reflection for the substance, began fighting most energetically with mere shadows. Every missile, thrown apparently into the midst of the Romans, was as ineffective as a miss, and the soldiers of Mithridates believing the foe to be invulnerable, fled in a state of panic. The King himself fought valiantly at the head of his body-guard; a corps which counted among its members his own wife, who, in the arms of a man, committed fearful havoc upon the Roman soldiery. Notwithstanding the powerful assistance of this strong-minded and able-bodied woman, Mithridates was compelled to fly, though he made extensive arrangements for renewing the war on the first favourable opportunity. This opportunity seems never to have arrived, or, if it came, it was lost by the treachery and cowardice of his son Pharnaces, who persuaded the soldiers that his father was an old fool to think of fighting with the Romans. Several of the principal officers took the same view of the subject, and joined in a conspiracy to depose the King, for the purpose of setting up Pharnaces as his substitute.

Mithridates was in bed one morning, when, woke by a considerable shouting under his window, he heard the words, "Pharnaces is king!" and sent to know the meaning of such an outcry. The answer was unsatisfactory, when the veteran, mounting his charger, made a speech on horseback, which nobody listened to. His son gave orders that he should be seized, when the old man, putting spurs to his horse, galloped up a hill, which for a man in the decline of life, who had been going down hill rather rapidly, was a bold and hazardous experiment. From the eminence he had gained, he saw the depth to which he had fallen; for he witnessed the coronation of his son Pharnaces, amidst the acclamations of the army. The poor old man was so affected at the sight, that he took from a fold in his dress a deadly drug, which, in anticipation of an alarming self-sacrifice, he always carried about with him. He was about to take off the mixture, when his two daughters, who were standing at his side, entreated the privilege of a drink at the deadly decoction. For some time he hesitated; but he was at length touched by their looks of mute entreaty at the fatal liquid. Dividing the contents of the bottle into three parts, he gave a dose to each of his daughters, reserving a dose for himself; and on a signal from the old gentleman, the two young ladies swallowed the nauseous stuff they had so earnestly solicited.

The poison took effect at once upon the females; but their father experienced only a disagreeable taste, without the deadly result he had looked for. Though too much for two, it was not enough for three, and the poor old man tottered about in a state of nausea, unattended with danger. Having been previously tired of existence, he was now thoroughly sick of it, and turning to a loyal servant at his side, he requested that he might immediately be put out of his misery. The faithful fellow, making a compromise between his morality and his duty, turned away his eyes, and held out the point of his sword, when Mithridates, coming speedily to the point, fell on the outstretched weapon.

Thus ended the Mithridatic War, as well as Mithridates himself; and his cowardly son Pharnaces sent in his adhesion to Pompey, acknowledging, in a spirit of humility and subservience to Rome, that he only held his kingdom at the pleasure of the Senate.

The character of Mithridates has been drawn by so many different delineators, that his portrait, as taken by the historians, presents a daub in which it is difficult to recognise the true features. So many skilful artists have been employed upon the task, that we hesitate in submitting Mithridates to a fresh canvassing at our hands; nor are we desirous of using the pencil, as some have done, for the purpose of imparting additional blackness. Some of those who have taken the sketch in hand, have thrown in the shadows with a ten-pound brush, while others have clothed him in several coats and overcoats of varnish, for the purpose of glossing over the defects of his character. All are ready to admit that he was an able ruler; but he had not that perfect uprightness and straightness which give to a ruler the qualities most to be desired. He could speak twenty-five different languages; and thus he was often able to talk over those with whom he might not have been able to come to an understanding, had his conversation been less versatile. He was of gigantic stature, which caused him to be looked up to by those who were placed under his authority. Notwithstanding his excessive height, he was not at all ungainly in his appearance, but his well-moulded frame was a perfect picture.

His fondness for the fine arts was exhibited in the rapacity with which he seized upon the choicest efforts of human genius, which were in turn stolen from him by other amateurs, whose patronage of talent was evinced in the ardour with which they appropriated the result of its labours. In Sinope, one of his cities, was found an astronomical sphere, which seems to show that the science of the stars was within the circle of his knowledge. In one of his fortresses was discovered a statue of himself no less than twelve feet high, in pure gold, which proved not only the value he set upon himself, but showed how completely he was wrapped up in the precious metal.

Credit has been given him for the possession of many domestic virtues; because, though he was cruel to one half of his numerous wives, he treated the other half with considerate tenderness. He excited the terror of his foes, but enjoyed the affection of his servants; and though hated in the field, he was beloved in the kitchen. According to Paterculus, Mithridates was a man of whom it is difficult to speak, and still more difficult to say nothing.[74] The same authority confers upon him a character for greatness of mind during the whole of his life; but when, having a great mind to kill himself, he prevailed on a slave to put him to death, he evinced—to use a contradictory expression—a vast amount of mental littleness.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH.

CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE. INTRODUCTION OF CICERO. CÆSAR,
POMPEY, CRASSUS, AND CO.

Republic without republicans may be an exceptional state of things; but ancient as well as modern history furnishes proof that the existence of a republic is not incompatible with the absence of anything for which such a form of government is usually desired. It is now an ascertained fact, that the people have no greater enemies to liberty than themselves; and that universal suffrage is the surest instrument to effect the objects of a despot. Equality, in a republican sense, seems to imply a condition in which all are equally debased; and a nation appears to be never so thoroughly slavish as when it is free to choose its own ruler.

The Romans had for some time been in the habit of placing themselves in the hands of a succession of tyrants and knaves, who obtained popularity by the display of the worst attributes. One would win the public voice by his boldness as a thief; another would render himself the elect of the people by his sanguinary successes as a wholesale murderer. It is unfortunate for what is termed the liberal cause, that the vulgarest qualities often attract the largest share of applause; and that those who are entrusted most freely with the confidence of the people are almost always the most unscrupulous in betraying it.

Rome had now sunk to the lowest condition; and society, under the republic, had become so dissolute, that its dissolution might be looked for as a natural consequence. Among the nobles of the period was a certain mass of cruelty and corruption, under the name of Sergius Catiline. He boasted of a long line in connection with his family tree; but a much shorter line, in connection with any ordinary tree, would have been more appropriate to his merits. Having spent all his own money, he spent as much as he could of other people's, by running into debt as deeply as possible. In order to meet some of his old engagements sufficiently to enable him to contract new, he murdered his brother, with a few more of his family connections, and, in fact, justified the opinion formed of him on account of his antecedents, by killing his relatives. Having obtained a Proprætorship in Africa, he followed up his career of private swindling, by the wholesale practice of public robbery. He used his office for the purposes of extortion; and the only proof he gave of exactness was in the exactions to which he submitted all who were under his authority.

On his return to Rome he hoped to have a wider scope for his dishonesty in the office of Consul, to which he aspired; and he formed a party of ruined spendthrifts, whose only chance of supporting themselves was by supporting him as a candidate for power. These desperadoes had nothing to lose, and everything to gain,—all that they had to lose being their own, and all that they had to gain being the property of others. Catiline had attracted the sympathies of these adventurers by promising to divide among them all the official salaries; and he had rallied round him a considerable number of adherents by offering to the "million" an opportunity of helping themselves to that which did not belong to them. He professed to be able to relieve all classes at once, by relieving the poor of their burdens, and the rich of their property. The dregs of the populace were easily stirred up, and even some of the nominal nobles were base enough to join in a conspiracy against their own order. The object of the conspiracy was to murder the whole of the senate by a massacre en masse; but the scheme was frustrated by that treachery which is almost sure to be found among a set of men who are banded together for a bad purpose. One Curius was induced to gratify the curiosity of a woman, named Fulvia, with whom he was in love; and the secret having reached female ears, flew to the tip of a female tongue, when the secret oozed out as naturally as water finding its level.

Cicero, who had been the competitor of Catiline for the Consulship, soon became aware of the facts; and the former resolved to try and talk the conspiracy down, by making it the subject of several bursts of indignant eloquence.

On the entrance of so illustrious a person as Cicero on the historical scene, it is fit that we should act the part of cicerone, for the purpose of introducing him. This celebrated character was born on the 3rd of January, in the year of the City 647, at Arpinum, where his father had a seat before the future orator was capable of standing. His grandfather was a man of some consideration, pecuniary as well as moral; for he was possessed of some property, and looked up to as an authority in questions of local politics. He had two sons, the eldest of whom, Marcus, was the father of the celebrated Marcus Tullius, from whom the family has derived that indelible mark which time is not likely to obliterate. After receiving the rudiments of his education at his native place, he was sent to Rome, where he studied Greek; and the flame of oratory was first kindled in his mind by contact with the Greek poetic fire. As soon as he had assumed the toga, he became wrapped up in manly pursuits, and was placed under the care of Mucius Scævola, the augur, who augured extremely well of his pupil. The young Cicero soon evinced a turn for poetry, which caused his head to be constantly running upon poetical feet; and he came out rather strong in numbers at a very early period. At the appointed age he joined the army; for the laws of his country required that on his entrance into life he should incur the risk of being sent out of it. He was present in the Marsic War, at the taking of the Samnite camp; but being in-tent on another part of the field, he saw little of the battle. At the end of the war he devoted himself to literary pursuits, and wrote his work De Inventione, which, in accordance with the maxim that necessity is the mother of invention, no doubt derived its existence from the author's necessities.

He next studied the art of reasoning, under Diodorus, who came to live under Cicero's roof, so that the latter probably found, or rather provided, lodging, while the Stoic "stood" the logic, which was undoubtedly a reasonable consideration for the accommodation afforded him. In his twenty-sixth year Cicero came out regularly as a professed orator; and the public voice soon accorded to his own a reputation of the highest character.

After talking incessantly for nearly two years, he found it necessary to take breath in retirement; and proceeded to Athens and to Rhodes, where he cultivated a more subdued style of oratory, getting rid of a disagreeable redundancy of action, and avoiding that motion, of course, of the arms, which is the common defect of the youthful advocate.

On his return to Rome, after an absence of two years, he appeared in the courts of law with distinguished success, and had the next best business to those popular leaders, Cotta and Hortensius. The three learned brethren were all of them successful candidates for the offices of Consul and Quæstor, in the last of which capacity Cicero was sent to Sicily. There his chief employment was to keep up a good supply of wheat for the capital, and, by the production of large crops of corn, he cultivated his growing popularity. During his Quæstorship he visited Syracuse, and discovered the tomb of Archimedes, which was thoroughly overgrown with briers, presenting an apt monument to one who had trodden, during life, the thorny paths of science. Cicero left the island with the pleasing idea that all Rome had been resounding with the praises of his administration; but, on landing at Puteoli, he was not a little disgusted at meeting a friend who asked him "where he had been, and what was the latest news in the city?" Cicero, at once perceiving that out of sight and out of mind were the same thing, determined to keep himself henceforth in the public eye to prevent its being shut to his merits.

It was not long after this period of his history that he came into collision with the conspirator, Catiline, whom he denounced before the assembled Senate, in an oration which has been preserved to this day, by the pungency of its sarcastic reasoning. Every sentence smacked of Attic salt, and every word was so much pepper to the guilty Catiline. The latter attempted a reply; but the senators were seized simultaneously with one of those coughs which spread like an influenza over an unwilling audience. The mask was now fairly torn off; and Catiline stood revealed in all his naturally atrocious features. He fled from Rome; but Cicero continued to show that though his hostility was all talk, it was of the most effective kind; for he sent forth speech after speech, and every sentence involved a sentence of "guilty" against Catiline. All those conspirators who had remained in Rome were seized, and strangled by the executioner, who, when they cried for pity, abruptly choked their utterance.