In historical composition alone can the Romans lay claim to originality; and in their historical literature especially is exhibited a faithful transcript of their mind and character. History at once gratified their patriotism, and its investigations were in accordance with their love of the real and practical. Thus those natural powers which had been elicited and cultivated by an acquaintance with Greek literature were applied with a naïve simplicity to the narration of events, and embellished them with all the graces of a refined style. The practical good sense and political wisdom which the Roman social system was admirably adapted to nurture found food for reflection: their shrewd insight into character, and their searching scrutiny into the human heart gave them a power over their materials; and hence they were enabled in this department of literature to emulate, not merely imitate, the Greeks, and to be their rivals, and sometimes their superiors. The elegant simplicity of Cæsar is as attractive as that of Herodotus; not one of the Greek historians surpasses Livy in talent for the picturesque, and in the charm with which he invests his spirited and living stories; whilst for condensation of thought, terseness of expression, and political and philosophical acumen, Tacitus is not inferior to Thucydides.
The subjects which historical investigation furnished were so peculiarly national, so congenial to the character of the mind of the Romans, that they seem to have cast aside their Greek originals, and to have struck out an independent line for themselves.
The catalogue of Roman historians is a proud one. At the head of it stand the four great names of Cæsar, Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus; all of whom, except the last, belong to the Augustan age. It comprehends those of Cornelius Nepos, Trogus Pompeius, Cremutius Cordus, Aufidius Bassus, and Sallust, in the golden age; Velleius Paterculus, Valerius Maximus, Q. Curtius, Suetonius, and Florus, in the succeeding one; nor must L. Lucceius and L. Licinius Lucullus be passed over without mention.
L. Lucceius, the friend and correspondent of Cicero,[888] was an orator who espoused the party of J. Cæsar, and relying on his influence, became, together with him, a candidate for the consulship.[889] Being unsuccessful, he quitted politics for the calm enjoyment of a literary life. His right to be called an historian is founded on his having commenced a history of the Social and Civil Wars, but it was never completed or published. Cicero[890] entreats him to speak of the events which he was recording, as well as of his own character and conduct, with partiality; it is, therefore, impossible to trust the encomiums which accompany this request, as they were probably dictated by a wish to purchase his favourable opinion. The period of his retirement from public affairs was not of long duration, for he afterwards again engaged in the civil strife which agitated Rome, and joined the party of Pompey, who held him in high estimation.[891] On his downfall he shared with other Pompeians the clemency of the dictator.
L. Licinius Lucullus,[892] the illustrious but luxurious conqueror of Mithridates, did not disdain to devote his leisure to the composition of history, although his works are not of such merit as to claim for him a distinguished position among the historians of his country. The stirring events of the Social War tempted him to record them.[893] Part of his enormous wealth he had expended on a magnificent library: to the poet Archias he was a kind friend;[894] and his patronage was liberally granted to literary men, especially to those philosophers who held the doctrines of his favourite Academy. Like most of those who combined with a love of literature a life of activity in the public service of his country, he was an orator of no mean abilities.[895] His love of Greek, and his habits of intercourse with Greek philosophers, led him to write his history in the Greek language, and to select and transcribe extracts from the histories of Cælius Antipater and Polybius.
Cornelius Nepos was a contemporary of Catullus, and lived until the sixth year of the reign of Augustus.[896] Ausonius says that he was a Gaul,[897] Catullus that he was an Italian.[898] Both are probably right, as the prevailing opinion is, that he was born either at Verona, or the neighbouring village of Hostilia in Cisalpine Gaul. Besides Catullus, he reckoned Cicero[899] and Atticus amongst the number of his friends.[900] These circumstances constitute all that is known respecting his personal history.
All his works which are mentioned by the ancients are unfortunately lost; but respecting the genuineness of that with which every scholar is familiar from his childhood, strong doubts have been entertained. His lost works were, (1.) Three books of Chronicles, or a short abridgment of Universal History. They are mentioned by A. Gellius,[901] and allusion is made to them by Catullus.[902] (2.) Five books of anecdotes styled “Libri Exemplorum,”[903] and also entitled “The Book of C. Nepos de Viris illustribus.” (3.) A Life of Cicero,[904] and a collection of Letters addressed to him.[905] (4.) “De Historicis,” or Memoirs of Historians.[906] The work now extant which bears his name is entitled “The Lives of Eminent Generals.” But besides the biographies of twenty generals, it contains short accounts of some celebrated monarchs, lives of Hamilcar and Hannibal, and also of Cato and Atticus. The Proëmium of the book is addressed to one Atticus, and to the first edition was prefixed a dedication to the Emperor Theodosius, from which it appeared that the author’s name was Probus. These biographical sketches continued to be ascribed to this unknown author until the latter half of the sixteenth century.
At that time the celebrated scholar Lambinus, Regius Professor of Belles Lettres at Paris, argued from the purity of the style that it was a work of classical antiquity, and, from a passage in the life of Cato, that the Atticus, to whom it was dedicated, was the well-known correspondent of Cicero, and the author no other than Cornelius Nepos. The argument derived from the Latinity is unanswerable; that, however, from the life of Cato is a “petitio principii,” inasmuch as there is no more evidence in favour of the life of Cato having been written by Nepos, than the other biographies. The life of Atticus, which is a complete model of biographical composition, is ascribed to him by name in some of the best MSS. Of the rest nothing more can be affirmed with certainty, than that they are a work, or the epitome of a work, belonging to the Augustan age.
The strongest evidence which exists in favour of the authorship of C. Nepos, is that Jerome Magius, a contemporary of Lambinus, who also published an annotated edition of the “Vitæ Illustrium Imperatorum,” found a MS. with the following conclusion: “Completum est opus Æmilii Probi Cornelii Nepotis.” These words would seem to assert the authorship of Nepos, and at the same time to admit that Probus was the editor or epitomator, and thus support the theory of Lambinus, without accusing Probus of a literary forgery.
To give a biographical account of Cæsar would be, in fact, nothing less than to trace the contemporary history of Rome; for Roman history had now become the history of those master-minds who seized upon, or were invested by their countrymen with, supreme power. Although the rapid and energetic talents of Cæsar never permitted him to lose a day, his active devotion to the truly Roman employments of politics and war, left him little time for sedentary occupations. His literary biography, therefore, will necessarily occupy but a short space, compared with the other great events of his career.
C. Julius Cæsar was descended from a family of the Julian gens, one of the oldest among the patrician families of Rome, of which all but a very few had by this time become extinct. The Cæsar family was not only of patrician descent, but numbered amongst its members, during the century which preceded the birth of the Dictator, many who had served curule offices with great distinction. He was born on the 4th of the ides of July (the 12th,) B. C. 100, and attached himself, both by politics and by matrimonial connexion to the popular party: his good taste, great tact, and pleasing manners, contributed, together with his talents, to insure his popularity. He became a soldier in the nineteenth year of his age; and hence his works display all the best qualities which are fostered by a military education, and which therefore characterize the military profession—frankness, simplicity, and brevity. He served his first campaign at the conclusion of the first Mithridatic war, during which he was present at the siege and capture of Mitylene,[907] and received the honour of a civic crown for saving the life of a citizen.
His earliest literary triumph was as an orator. Cn. Dolabella was suspected of oppressive extortion in the administration of his province of Macedonia, and Cæsar came forward as his accuser. The celebrated Hortensius was the advocate for the accused; and although Cæsar did not gain his cause, the skill and eloquence which he displayed as a pleader gave promise of his becoming hereafter a consummate orator. The following year he increased his reputation by taking up the cause of the province of Achaia against C. Antonius, who was accused of the same crime as Dolabella; but he was again unsuccessful in the result.
He subsequently sailed for Rhodes, in order to pursue the study of oratory under the direction of Apollonius Molon,[908] who was not only a teacher of rhetoric, but also an able and eloquent pleader in the courts of law. Cicero[909] bears testimony to his being a skilful instructor and an eloquent speaker, and received instruction from him when he came to Rome as an ambassador from Rhodes.[910] Cæsar, on his voyage, was captured by pirates; but after he was ransomed, he carried his intention into effect, and placed himself for a short time under the tuition of Molon. After his return to Rome,[911] a proposition was made to recall from exile those of the party of Lepidus, who had joined Sertorius, and he spoke in favour of the measure. Two years subsequently he delivered funeral orations in praise of his wife Cornelia, who was the daughter of Cinna, and his aunt Julia, the widow of Marius.
The Catilinarian conspiracy, in which, without reason, he was suspected of having been concerned, furnished him with another opportunity of displaying his ability as an orator. His speech in the senate on the celebrated nones of December, would probably have saved the lives of the conspirators, had not Cato’s influence prevailed. Cæsar pleaded that it was unconstitutional to put Roman citizens to death by the vote of the senate, without a trial; but his arguments were overruled, and the measure which subsequently led to the fall and assassination of Cicero was carried. The following year,[912] when Metellus made this a subject of accusation against Cicero, Cæsar again supported the same view with his eloquence, but was unsuccessful.
Great, therefore, although it is said that his talents as an orator were, he never appears to have convinced his hearers. This may have been owing, not to deficiency in skill, but to the unfortunate nature of the causes which he took in hand, or to the superior powers of his opponents, for there is no doubt that his manner of speaking was most engaging and popular. Tacitus speaks of him not only as the greatest of authors,[913] but also as rivalling the most accomplished orators;[914] whilst Suetonius praises his eloquence, and quotes the testimony of Cicero himself in support of his favourable criticism.[915]
Hitherto, with the exception of his first campaign, the life of Cæsar was of a civil complexion. His literary eminence took the colouring of the public occupations in which he was engaged. Like a true Roman, literature was subordinate to public duty, and his taste was directed into the channel which was most akin to, and identified with, his life. His intellectual vigour, however, demanded employment as well as his practical talents for business; and for this reason, as has been seen, he devoted himself to the study of oratory; and the principal works which as yet obtain for him a place in a history of Roman literature are merely orations.
His next official appointment opened to him a new field for thought. In B. C. 63 he obtained the office of Pontifex Maximus, and examined so diligently into the history and nature of the Roman belief in augury, of which he was the official guardian, that his investigations were published in a work consisting of at least sixteen books (Libri Auspiciorum.[916]) In order to fit himself for discharging the duties of his office he studied astronomy, and even wrote a treatise on that science,[917] entitled “de Astris”, and a poem somewhat resembling the Phenomena of Aratus. His knowledge of this science enabled him, with the aid of the Alexandrian astronomers, to carry into effect some years[918] afterwards the reformation of the calendar.
The works above mentioned are philosophically and scientifically valueless, but curious and interesting; but we have now to view Cæsar in that capacity which was the foundation of his literary reputation. He obtained the province of Hispania Ulterior;[919] and at this post his career as a military commander began. As had been the case during his previous career, so now the almost incessant demands on his thoughts and time did not divert him from literary pursuits, but determined the channel in which his tastes should seek satisfaction, and furnished the subject for his pen. He had evidently an ardent love for literature for its own sake. It was not the paltry ambition of showing that he could achieve success, and, even superiority, in every thing which he chose to undertake, although his versatility of talent was such as to encourage him to expect success, but a real attachment to literary employment. Hence whatever leisure his duties as a military commander permitted him to enjoy was devoted, as to a labour of love, to the composition of his Memoirs or Commentaries of the Gallic and Civil Wars.
His comprehensive and liberal mind was also convinced of the embarrassing technicalities which impeded the administration of the Roman law. Its interpretation was confined to a few who had studied its pedantic mysteries; and the laws which regulated the dies fasti and nefasti had originally placed its administration in the hands of the priests and patricians. Appius Claudius had already commenced the work of demolishing the fences which to the people at large were impregnable; and Cæsar entertained the grand design of reducing its principles and practice to a regular code.[920] His views he imbodied in a treatise,[921] which, as is often the case with pamphlets, perished when the object ceased to exist for which it was intended.
It is said that he also contemplated a complete survey and map of the Roman empire.[922] But his greatest benefaction, perhaps, to the cause of Roman literature was the establishment of a public library.[923] The spoils of Italy, collected by Asinius Pollio, furnished the materials, just as the museums of Paris were enriched by the great modern conqueror from the plunder of Europe; but it was, nevertheless, a great and patriotic work; and he enhanced its utility by intrusting the collection and arrangement of it to the learned Varro as librarian.
Besides the works already named, Cæsar left behind him various letters, some of which are extant amongst those of Cicero; orations, of which, if the panegyrics of Cicero, Tacitus, and Quintilian[924] are not exaggerated, it is deeply to be regretted that the titles are alone preserved;[925] a short treatise or pamphlet, called Anticato; a work on the analogy of the Latin language; a collection of apothegms; and a few poems.
These are the grounds on which the claims of the great conqueror to literary fame rest in the various capacities of orator, historian, antiquarian, philosopher, grammarian, and poet; but by far the most important of his works is his “Commentaries.” These have fortunately come down to us in a tolerably perfect state, although much still remains to be done before we can be said to possess an accurate edition.[926] Seven books contain the history of seven years of the Gallic war, and three carry the history of the civil war down to the commencement of the Alexandrine. These are the works of Cæsar himself. The eighth book, “De Bello Gallico,” which completes the subject, and the three supplemental books of the work, “De Bello Civili,” which contain the Alexandrine, African, and Spanish wars, have been variously ascribed to the friends of Cæsar, A. Hirtius, C. Oppius, and even to Pansa. The claims of the latter, however, are entirely groundless. The marked similarity between the style of the eighth book of the Gallic war and that of the Alexandrine war proves that they were written by the same author; and from the elegance and purity of the Latinity, and the confidential footing on which the author must have been with Cæsar, there is a probability, almost amounting to a certainty, that the History of the Alexandrine War must be the work of A. Hirtius. It may also be remarked that this opinion is in unison with that of Suetonius.[927]
Hirtius was the only one of the three who united in himself both these important qualifications. C. Oppius was indeed equally in the confidence of Cæsar; he was his inseparable companion.[928] But, nevertheless, Oppius was not so highly educated as Hirtius. Niebuhr, therefore, is probably correct in attributing to him, “without hesitation,”[929] the book on the African war. The intelligence and information displayed in it are worthy of the sensible soldier and confidential friend, with whom he corresponded in cipher, and whom he intrusted with writing the introduction to his defence in the “Anticato;” whilst the inferiority of the language marks a less skilful and practised hand than that of the refined Hirtius. The book on the Spanish war is by some unknown author: it is founded on a diary kept by some one engaged in the war; but neither its language nor sentiments are those of a liberally educated person.[930] The Greek term “Ephemerides” has sometimes been applied to the “Commentaries,” though Bayle[931] thought that they were different works.
These memoirs are exactly what they profess to be, and are written in the most appropriate style. Few would wish it to be other than it is. They are sketches taken on the spot, in the midst of action, whilst the mind was full: they have all the graphic power of a master-mind, and the vigorous touches of a master-hand. Take, for example, the delineation of the Gallic character, and compare it with some of the features still to be found in the mixed race, their successors, and no one can doubt of its accuracy, or of the deep and penetrating insight into human nature which generally indicates the powerful and practical intellect. Their elegance and polish is that which always mark even the least-laboured efforts of a refined and educated taste, not that which proceeds from careful emendation and correction. The “Commentaries” are the materials for history; notes jotted down for future historians. It is evident that no more time was spent upon them than would naturally be devoted to such a work by one who was employing the inaction of winter quarters in digesting the recollections stored up during the business of the campaign; and for this reason few faults have been found with the “Commentaries,” even by the most fastidious critics. The very faults which may be justly found with the style of Cæsar are such as reflect the man himself. The majesty of his character principally consists in the imperturbable calmness and equability of his temper. He had no sudden bursts of energy, and alternations of passion and inactivity: the elevation of his character was a high one, but it was a level table-land. This calmness and equability pervades his writings, and for this reason they have been thought to want life and energy; whereas in reality they are only deficient in contrast, and light and shade. The uniformity of his active character is interesting as one great element of his success; but the uniformity of style may perhaps be thought by some readers to diminish the interest with which his work is read.
The simple beauty of his language is, as Cicero says, statuesque rather than picturesque. Simple, severe, naked—“omni ornatu orationis tanquam veste detracto;” and whilst, like a statue, it conveys the idea of perfect and well-proportioned beauty, it banishes all thoughts of human passion. It was this perfect calm propriety, perhaps this absence of all ornamental display, which prevented him from being a successful orator, and his orations from surviving, although he had every external qualification for a speaker[932]—a fine voice, graceful action, a noble and majestic appearance, and a frank and brilliant delivery.
The very few instances of doubtful Latinity which a hypercritical spirit may detect are scarcely blemishes, and fewer than might have been expected from the observation of Hirtius,[933] “Ceteri quam bene atque emendate, nos etiam, quam facile ac celeriter eos perscripserit, scimus.” When A. Pollio[934] called his “Commentaries” hasty, his criticism was fair; but he was scarcely just in blaming the writer for inaccuracy and credulity. These faults, so far as they existed, were due to circumstances, not to himself. His observing mind wished to collect information with respect to the foreign lands which were the field of his exploits, and the habits of the inhabitants, quite as much as to describe his own tactics and victories. He naturally accepted the accounts given him, even when he had no means of testing their veracity. He is, therefore, not to blame for recording those which subsequent discoveries have shown to be untrue.
His digressions of this character yield in interest to no portion of his work; and though some of his accounts of the Gauls and Germans are incorrect, many were subsequently confirmed by the investigations of Tacitus. The only quality in the character of Cæsar which has been sometimes exaggerated is modesty. He does not, indeed, add to his own reputation by detracting from the merits of those who served under him. He is honest, generous, and candid, not only towards them, but also towards his brave barbarian enemies. Nor is he guilty of egotism in the strict literal sense of the term. This, however, is scarcely enough to warrant the eulogy which some have founded upon it. He has too good taste to recount his successes with pretension and arrogance; but he has evidently no objection to be the hero of his own tale. He skilfully veils his selfish, unpatriotic, and ambitious motives; and his object evidently is to leave such memoirs, that future historians may be able to hand down the most favourable character of Cæsar to posterity.
Though himself is his subject, his memoirs are not confessions. Not a record of a weakness appears, nor even of a defect, except that which the Romans would readily forgive, cruelty. His savage waste of human life he recounts with perfect self-complacency. Vanity was his crowning error in his career as a statesman; and though hidden by the reserve with which he speaks of himself, it sometimes discovers itself in the historian.
The “Commentaries” of Cæsar have sometimes been compared with the work of the great soldier historian of Greece, Xenophon. Both are eminently simple and unaffected; but there the parallel ends. The severe contempt of ornament which characterizes the stern Roman is totally unlike the mellifluous sweetness of the Attic writer.
The “Anticatones”[935] were two books in answer to Cicero’s panegyric of Cato, which he had written immediately after the philosopher’s death. Hirtius first, at the request of Cæsar, wrote a reply, and sent it to Cicero from Narbonne. Although he denied the justice of Cicero’s eulogium, he secured the good-will of the orator himself by liberal commendations.[936] This prepared the way for Cæsar’s own pamphlet.
His philological work, de Analogia, or de Ratione Latine Loquendi, is commended by Cicero[937] for its extreme accuracy, and was held in high estimation by the Roman grammarians. Probably, in liveliness and originality, it was far superior to any of their works. Wonderful to say, it was written during the difficulties and occupations of a journey across the Alps. From the quotations from it, in the writings of the grammarians, we learn that he proposed that the letter V should be written Ⅎ, to mark its connexion with the Greek digamma; and that the new orthography, which substituted lacrimæ for lucrumæ, maximus for maxumus, &c., was established by his authority.
The “Apophthegmata” is said to have been a collection of wise and witty sayings by himself and others, although it is remarkable not a single witty saying of Cæsar is on record.[938] He began it early in life, and was continually making additions to it.
His poetical attempts consisted of a tragedy entitled “Œdipus;” a short piece, the subject of which was the praises of Hercules (both of these, as well as the Apophthegmata, were suppressed by Augustus;[939]) “Iter,” an account of his march into Spain; the astronomical poem already mentioned; and some epigrams, of which three are extant, although their authenticity is somewhat doubtful.[940]
The character of Cæsar is full of inconsistencies; but they are the inconsistencies which are natural to man, and are sometimes found in men of a strong will and commanding talents who are destitute of moral principle. His faults and excellences, his capability and talents, were the result of his natural powers—not of pains or study. He was one of the greatest as well as one of the worst men who ever lived. He was an Epicurean in faith, and yet he had all the superstition which so often accompanies infidelity. His habitual humanity and clemency towards his fellow-citizens were interrupted by instances of stern and pitiless cruelty. He shed tears at the assassination of Pompey, and yet could massacre the Usipetes and the Tenchteri, and acted like a savage barbarian towards his chivalrous foe Vercingetorix. He delighted in the pure and refined pleasures of literature, and his intimate associates were men of taste and genius; and yet he was the slave of his sensual passions, and indulged in the grossest profligacy. He was candid, friendly, confiding, generous; but he was attracted by brilliant talents, and the qualities of the head, rather than the affections of the heart. The mainspring of his conduct as a general and a statesman exhibits a strong will and perfect self-reliance; and in like manner he owes the energy of his style of writing, and the persuasive force of his oratory, to the influence of no other minds: they are the natural fruit of clear perceptions, a penetrating intellect, an observing mind capable of taking a wide and comprehensive view of its subject. Men of varied acquirements and extensive knowledge, but of pedantic taste, are said to talk like books; the writings of Cæsar, on the contrary, are like lively and unconstrained conversation: they have all the reality which constitutes the great charm of his character.
He was above affectation, for his was a mind born to lead the age in which he lived, not to think with others merely in deference to established usage and custom; and although his natural vanity and self-confidence led him to set his own character in the most favourable light, his vanity was honest: he had no intention wilfully to deceive. His wonderful memory fitted him for the task of faithfully recording the events in which he himself was an actor; and his power of attention and abstraction, which enabled him to write, converse, and dictate at the same time, shows how valuable must be a work on which were concentrated at once all the energies of his penetrating mind.
C. Sallustius Crispus was fifteen years junior to Cæsar: he was born at Amiternum[941] in the territory of the Sabines, A. U. C. 669, B. C. 85. He was a member of a plebeian family; but, having served the offices of tribune and quæstor, attained senatorial rank. In A. U. C. 704, he was expelled from the senate[942] by the censors Ap. Claudius Pulcher and L. Calpurnius Piso.[943] It is said that, although he was “a most severe censurer of the licentiousness of others,”[944] he was a profligate man himself, and that the scandal of an intrigue with Fausta, the daughter of Sulla and the wife of Milo, was the cause of his degradation.
Through the influence of Cæsar, whose party he espoused, he was restored to his rank, and subsequently became prætor. He accompanied his patron in the African war, and was made governor of Numidia. Whilst in that capacity, he accumulated by rapacity and extortion enormous wealth,[945] which he lavished on expensive but tasteful luxury. The gardens on the Quirinal which bore his name were celebrated for their beauty; and beneath their alleys, and porticoes, surrounded by the choicest works of art, he avoided the tumultuous scenes of civil strife which ushered in the empire, and devoted his retirement to composing the historical records which survived him. His death took place B. C. 35.
Those who have wished to defend the character of Sallust from the charges of immorality, to which allusion has been made, have attributed them to the groundless calumnies of Lenæus, a freedman of Cæsar’s great rival Pompey. It is not improbable that his faults may have been exaggerated by the malevolence of party-spirit in those factious times; but there are no sentiments in his works which can constitute a defence of him. If an historian is distinguished by a high moral tone of feeling, this quality cannot but show itself in his writings without intention or design. But in Sallust there is always an affectation and pretence of morality without the reality. His philosophical reflections at the commencement of the Jugurthine and Catilinarian wars are empty, cold, and heartless. There is a display of commonplace sentiment, and an expressed admiration of the old Roman virtue of bygone days, but no appearance of sincerity. The language may be pointed enough to produce an effect upon the ear, but the sentiments always fail to probe the recesses of the heart. Sallust lived in an immoral and corrupt age; and though, perhaps, he was not amongst the worst of his contemporaries, he had not sufficient strength of principle to resist the force of example and temptation.
It is almost certain that, as a provincial governor, Sallust was not more unscrupulous than others of his class; but wealth such as he possessed could not have been acquired except by extortion and maladministration. As a politician, he was equally unsatisfactory: he was a mere partisan of Cæsar, and therefore, a strenuous opponent of the higher classes as supporters of Pompey; but he was not an honest champion of popular rights, nor was he capable of understanding the meaning of patriotism. If, however, we make some allowance for the political bias of Sallust, which is evident throughout his works, his histories have not only the charms of the historical romance, but are also valuable political studies. His characters are vigorously and naturally drawn, as though he not only personally knew them, but accurately understood them. The more his histories are read the more will it be discovered that he always writes with an object. He eschews the very idea of a mere dry chronicle of facts, and uses his facts as the means of enforcing a great political lesson.
For this reason, like Thucydides, whom he evidently took as his model, not only in style but in the use of his materials, his speeches are his own compositions. Even when he had an opportunity, as in the case of Cæsar’s and Cato’s speeches in the “Bellum Catilinarium,” he contented himself with giving the substance of them, clothed it in his own language, and imbodied in them his own sentiments. According to his own statement, there is one exception to his practice in this respect. He asserts that the speech of Memmius, the tribune of the people,[946] is the very one which he delivered. If this be really the case, it is a most valuable example of the style in which a popular leader addressed his audience. But it is to be feared that this is not strictly and literally true: the style is indeed somewhat different from that of the other speeches, but does not exhibit freedom enough to assure us that he has actually reported it as delivered. It may be only a specimen of that consummate skill which constitutes the principal charm of Sallust’s manner, and made him a complete master of composition. Sallust never attempted anything more than detached portions of Roman history. “I have determined,” he says, “to write only select portions of Roman history,” (carptim perscribere.[947]) He himself gives an explanation of his motives for so doing,[948] when he complains of the manner in which this department of literature was neglected. Wherever a satisfactory account existed, he thought it unnecessary to travel over the same ground a second time.
His first work, reckoning according to the chronological order of events, is the Jugurthine war, which commenced B. C. 111, and ended B. C. 106. The next period, comprehending the social war and the war of Sulla, extending as far as the consulship of M. Æmilius Lepidus, B. C. 78, had already been related by Sisenna, a friend of Cicero.[949] Where Sisenna left off, the Histories of Sallust (Historiarum Libri V.) began, and continued the narrative without interruption until the prætorship of Cicero.[950] This work is unfortunately lost, with the exception of some letters and speeches, and a few fragments relating to the war of Spartacus. Niebuhr[951] considers this one of the most deplorable losses in Roman literature; less, however, on account of its historical importance, than as a perfect model of historical composition. A break of two years ensues, and then follows the “Bellum Catilinarium,” or history of the Catilinarian conspiracy in the year of Cicero’s consulship.[952]
This completes the list of those works which are undoubtedly genuine. No satisfactory opinion has been arrived at respecting the authorship of the two letters to Cæsar, “De Republicâ Ordinandâ;” and it is now unhesitatingly admitted, that the declamation against Cicero, must have been, as well as its counterpart, the declamation against Sallust, the work of some rhetorical writer of a later period. The subject of this imaginary disputation was naturally suggested by the known fact that Sallust was no friend to Cicero.
It has already been stated that Sallust was a bitter opponent of the principles and policy of the aristocratic party; but it must be carefully explained what is meant by that assertion. The object of his hatred was not the old patrician blood of Rome, but the new aristocracy, which had of late years been rapidly rising up and displacing it.
This new nobility was utterly corrupt; and their corruption was encouraged by the venality of the masses, whose poverty and destitution tempted them to be the tools of unscrupulous ambition. Everything at Rome, as Juvenal said in later times, had its price. Sallust adds to the severity of his strictures upon his countrymen by the force of contrast; he represents even Jugurtha as asserting that the republic itself might be bought, if a purchaser could be found; and paints the barbarian as more honest and upright than his conquerors. The ruined and abandoned associates of Catiline represented a numerous class among the younger members of the upper classes, who, by lives devoted to lawless pleasures, had become ruined, reckless, and demoralized. They were ripe for revolution, because they had nothing to lose: they could not gratify their vicious propensities without wealth; they had no principles or scruples as to the means of acquiring it; their best prospects were in anarchy, proscription, and confiscation. The debauched and ruined nobleman, and the vulgar profligate of the lowest class, forgot their mutual differences, and thus a combination was formed, the members of which were the sink and outscourings of society.
Such degenerate profligacy is an ample justification of Sallust’s hatred towards the new aristocracy; and the object of all his works evidently was to place that party in the unfavourable light which it deserved. In the Jugurthine war he describes the unworthiness of the foreign policy of Rome under its maladministration. His “Histories,” according to the statement of Niebuhr, describe the popular resistance to the revolutionary policy of Sulla, the profligate leader of the same party; and in the “Catilinarian war” he paints in vivid colours the depravity of that order of society, who, bankrupt in fortune and dead to all honourable feelings, still plumed themselves on their rank and exclusiveness. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the truthfulness of the picture which Sallust draws, selfishness and not patriotism was the mainspring of his politics; and it is scarcely possible to avoid seeing that he is anxious to set himself off to the best advantage. His hollowness is that of a vain and conceited man, who measures himself by too high a standard, and appears chagrined and disappointed that others do not estimate him as highly as he does himself.
These are the blots in his character as a man and a citizen; but we must not forget his real merits as an historian. To him must be conceded the praise of having first conceived the notion of a history in the true sense of the term. He saw the lamentable defects in the abortive attempts made by his predecessors;[953] and the model was a good one which he left for his successors to follow. It is scarcely too much to suppose, that if it had not been for Sallust, Livy might not have been led to conceive his vast and comprehensive plan. He was the first Roman historian, and the guide to future historians. Again, his style, although almost ostentatiously elaborate and artificial, and not without affectation, is, upon the whole, pleasing, and almost always transparently clear. The caution of Quintilian respecting his well-known brevity (“vitanda est illa Sallustiana brevitas”[954]) is well-timed in his work, as being addressed to orators, for public speaking necessarily requires a more diffuse style; and it is probable that Quintilian would not appreciate its merits, because he himself was a rhetorician, and his taste was formed in a rhetorical age. Seneca, for the same reasons, finds similar faults, not only with Sallust, but with the favourite literature of his day. “When Sallust flourished, abrupt sentences, unexpected cadences, obscure expressions, were considered signs of a cultivated taste.”[955] But the brevity of Sallust does not produce the effect of harsh or disagreeable abruptness, whilst it keeps the attention awake, and impresses the facts upon the memory. How powerful and suggestive, for example, how abundant in material for thought, are those few words in which he describes Pompey as “oris probi, animo inverecundo!” There is, however, this difference between the brevity of Sallust and that of his supposed model, Thucydides. That of the Greek historian was natural and involuntary; that of the Roman intentional and the result of imitation. Thucydides thought more quickly than he could write: his closely-packed ideas and condensed constructions, therefore, constitute a species of shorthand, by which alone he could keep pace with the rapidity of his intellect. He is, therefore, always vigorous and suggestive; and the necessities of the case make the reader readily pardon the difficulties of his style.
The brevity of Thucydides is the result of condensation; that of Sallust is elliptical expression. He gives a hint and the reader must supply the rest; whilst Thucydides only expects his readers to unfold and develop ideas which already existed in a concentrated form. Sallust requires addition; Thucydides dilution and expansion. Neither does the brevity of Sallust resemble that of Cæsar or of Tacitus: the former was straight-forward and business-like, requiring neither addition nor expansion, because he wished to make his statements as clear as they were capable of being expressed, without ornament or exaggeration. He was brief, because he never wished to say more than was absolutely necessary, and therefore his brevity is the very cause of perspicuity. The mind of Tacitus was, from its thoughtfulness and philosophical character, the very counterpart of that of Thucydides: his brevity was therefore natural and the result of the same causes.
There is one point of view in which Sallust is invaluable as an historian. He had always an object to which he wished all his facts to converge: he brought forward his facts as illustrations and developments of principles. He analyzed and exposed the motives of parties, and the secret springs which actuated the conduct of individuals, and laid bare the inner life of those great actors on the public stage, in the interesting historical scenes which he undertakes to describe.
Trogus Pompeius was a voluminous historian of the Augustan age, whose father was private secretary to Julius Cæsar.[956] His work was of such vast extent, and embraced so great a variety of subjects, that it has even been termed by Justin, who published a large collection of extracts from it, an Universal History. Its title, however, “Historiæ Philippicæ,” proves the writer’s primary object was the history of the Macedonian monarchy, together with the kingdoms which arose out of it at the death of Alexander; and that all the rest of the information contained in it were digressions into which he was naturally led, and episodes incidentally introduced into the main stream of the history.
For the materials contained in his work, which consisted of forty-four books, he was indebted to the Greek historians, but especially to Theopompus of Chios,[957] from whose principal work he derived the title, “Philippica,” as well as the practice of branching out into long and frequent digressions. It is easy to imagine over how vast an area a history of the Macedonian empire was capable of extending. The subjugation of the East by the conquests of Alexander naturally made a rapid sketch of the Assyrian, Median, and Persian empires, an appropriate introduction to the work: the connexion of Persia with Greece and Egypt furnished an opportunity of imbodying the records of Greek history, and a description of Egypt and its inhabitants. Once embarked in Greek history, the writer pursued it until it became interwoven, through the interference of Philip, with the affairs of Macedon. Alexander and his successors succeed: the campaigns of Pyrrhus bring the Romans upon the stage; Carthage and Sicily for awhile occupy the scene; and the main body of the work is completed by a sketch of the gradual consolidation of that vast empire, of which subjugated Macedonia became a province. Nor is this all—other less important nations, states, and cities are ever and anon introduced, according as they act their part in the great drama of history.