The earliest prose writers belonging to this epoch were Aufidius Bassus and Cremutius Cordus. The former wrote a history of the German and civil wars, which was continued by the elder Pliny; of the latter only a few fragments have been preserved by Seneca.^[1180] They were published in the reign of Tiberius; and it is evident that they contained a history of the civil wars, for his praise of Brutus and Cassius was made the pretext for his impeachment. It is also clear that he treated of contemporary events; for the real cause of the emperor’s hostility was an attack which he made upon the favourite Sejanus. In vain he tendered an apology; and seeing there was no hope of escape he starved himself to death.^[1181] His histories were publicly burned, but his daughter, to whom Seneca addressed his “Consolatio,” concealed some copies, and afterwards published them, with the approbation of Caligula.^[1182]

M. Velleius Paterculus.

Together with these flourished M. Velleius Paterculus. He was a soldier of equestrian family, served his first campaign in Asia, and subsequently, after passing through the various steps of promotion, acted as legatus to Tiberius in Germany. His services recommended him to the favour of the prince, on whose accession he was made prætor, and proved himself a stanch supporter of him and his favourite minister Sejanus. In the fall of that unworthy man,^[1183] Paterculus was involved, and was most probably put to death.

The short historical work by which he is known as an author is a history of Rome, and of the nations connected with the foundation of the imperial city, in two books. It is dedicated to M. Vinucius, consul; and as it carries on the history to the death of Livia, the mother of Tiberius, in the year of his consulate,^[1184] it must have been finished, perhaps almost entirely written within that year. Assuming that it was wise to undertake the task of comprising within such narrow limits events extending over so large a field, it is not unskilfully performed. The most striking events are selected and told in a lively and interesting manner; but he had one fault fatal to his character as an historian, who professed to treat of his own times. He is partial, prejudiced, and adulatory. He had not courage to be a Thucydides or a Sallust. The perilous nature of the times, and the personal obligations under which he was to the emperor, made him a courtier, and from this one-sided point of view he viewed contemporary history.

He was, however, a man of lively talents though of superficial education: his taste was formed after the model of the Augustan writers, especially Sallust, of whose style, so far as the outward form, he was an imitator. But although he was one of the earliest writers of the so called silver age, his language shows signs of degeneracy. It is, at times, overstrained and unnatural; there is the usual affectation of rhetorical effect, and an unnecessary use of uncommon words and constructions; still, whenever he keeps his model in view, he is scarcely inferior to him in conciseness and perspicuity. The first book of his history is in a very imperfect state; in fact, the commencement is entirely lost. Only one manuscript of it has been discovered, and even this is now nowhere to be found.

Valerius Maximus.

Valerius Maximus can scarcely be termed an historian, although the subject of which he treated is historical. His work is neither one of original research, nor is it a connected abridgment of the investigation of his predecessors. It is a collection of anecdotes, entitled Dictorum Factorumque Memorabilium, Libri IX. His object is a moral one; namely, to illustrate, by examples, the beauty of virtue and the deformity of vice; but he is influenced in the selection less by historical truth than by the striking and interesting character of the narrative. The arrangement of the anecdotes resembles that of a commonplace book, rather than of history, the only principle observed being, that anecdotes of Romans and foreigners are kept distinct from one another.

Nothing is known, for certain, respecting his personal history. He himself states^[1185] that he accompanied Sextus Pompeius into Asia; and, from a comparison of different passages, it is probable that, like Velleius Paterculus, he flourished and wrote during the reign of Tiberius. His style is prolix and declamatory, and characterized by awkward affectation and involved obscurity.

C. Cornelius Tacitus.

For the reasons already stated, Rome, for a long period, could boast of no historian; but, under the genial and fostering influence of the Emperor Trajan,^[1186] not only the fine arts, especially architecture, flourished, but also literature revived. The choice of Nerva could not have fallen on a better successor to his short reign. He was a Spaniard, but his native town was a flourishing Roman colony: the whole country round about it had experienced the effects of Roman civilization, and the language of all the towns in the south of Spain was Latin. The glories of war and the duties of peace divided his attention. By the former, he gave employment to his vast armies; by the latter he refined the tastes and improved the character of his people. No better testimony can be desired than the correspondence between him and Pliny to the mildness and wisdom of his domestic and foreign administration. The influence, also, of his empress, Plotina, and his sister, Marciana, exercised a beneficial influence upon Roman society; for they were the first ladies of the imperial court who by their example checked the shameless licentiousness which had long prevailed amongst women of the higher classes. The same taste and execution which are visible in the bas-reliefs on the column of Trajan adorn the literature of his age, as illustrated by its two great lights, Tacitus and the younger Pliny. There is not the rich, graceful ornament which invests with such a charm the writers of the golden age; but the absence of these qualities is amply compensated by dignity, gravity, honesty and truthfulness. There is a solidity in the style of Tacitus which makes amends for its difficulty, and justifies the intense admiration with which he was regarded by Pliny. Truthfulness beams throughout the writings of these two great contemporaries; and incorruptible virtue is as visible in the pages of Tacitus as benevolence is in the letters of Pliny. They mutually influenced each other’s character and principles: their tastes and pursuits were similar: they loved each other dearly; corresponded regularly, corrected each other’s works, and accepted patiently and gratefully each other’s criticisms. If, however, on all occasions, their observations were such as appear in the letters of Pliny, it is probable that their mutual regard, and the unbounded admiration which Pliny entertained for the superior genius of his friend caused them to be rather laudatory than severe.

The exact date of the birth of Tacitus is not known; but from one of the many letters extant, addressed to him by Pliny,^[1187] it may be inferred that the former was not more than one or two years senior to his friend. In it he reminds him that in years they are almost equals, and adds that he himself was a young man when Tacitus had already obtained a brilliant reputation. There is a tradition which assigns the birth of Tacitus to the year of Nero’s accession; but as Pliny the Younger was born A. D. 61, and Nero assumed the imperial purple A. D. 54, this date would make the difference in age between him and Pliny too great to be consistent with the expressions of the latter. Tacitus was of equestrian rank, and was procurator of Belgic Gaul in the reigns of Vespasian and Titus, from whom, as well as from Domitian, he received many marks of esteem. In A. D. 78, he married the daughter of C. Julius Agricola. He was one of the fifteen commissioners appointed for the celebration of the Ludi Seculares, A. D. 88, and was also prætor the same year. In A. D. 97, he served the office of consul. To this magistracy he was elected in order to supply the place of Virginius Rufus, who had died during his year of office, and over him Tacitus pronounced the funeral oration. In A. D. 99, he was associated by the Senate with Pliny^[1188] in the impeachment of Marius Priscus, proconsul of Africa, for maladministration of his province; and his friend Pliny praises his reply to the acute subtleties of Salvius Liberalis, the advocate of Marius, as distinguished, not only for oratorical power, but for that which he considers the most remarkable quality of his style, gravity. His words are, “Respondit Corn. Tacitus eloquentissime et quod eximie orationi ejus inest, σεμνως.”^[1189] It is not known when Tacitus died, nor whether he left any descendants; but there can be no doubt that he survived the accession of Hadrian.^[1190]

The works of Tacitus which are extant, are:—(1.) A Life of his father-in-law, Agricola. (2.) A tract on the Manners and Nations of Germany. (3.) A small portion of a voluminous work, entitled Histories. (4.) About two-thirds of another historical work, entitled Annals. (5.) A dialogue on the Decline of Eloquence is also ascribed to him; and although doubts have been entertained of its genuineness, they do not rest upon any strong foundation. It is impossible to do more than approximate to the dates at which each work of Tacitus was composed. The imminent peril of writing or speaking plainly on events or individuals renders it almost certain that none of them could have been published before the accession of Trajan. Niebuhr^[1191] entertains no doubt that the first edition of the Life of Agricola was published towards the end of Domitian’s reign, and that, subsequently, it was revised and an introduction prefixed. But is it not more probable that, although the work was then written, it was not published until after revision?

Great as were the moral worth and the amiable gentleness of Agricola, his courage as a soldier, his skill and decision as a general, his prudence and caution as a politician, and, therefore, however deserving he may be of the pleasing light in which his character is portrayed, still the life of Tacitus is a panegyric rather than a biography. The near relation in which Tacitus stood to him, the affectionate admiration which Agricola must necessarily have commanded from one who knew him so well, unfitted him for the work of an impartial biographer. The fine points of Agricola’s character outshine all its other features; but we cannot suppose that he had no defects, no weaknesses. These, however, do not appear in the little work of Tacitus. His son-in-law either could not or would not see them. Still the brief sketch is a beautiful specimen of the vigour and force of expression with which this greatest painter of antiquity could throw off any portrait which he attempted. Even if the likeness be somewhat flattered, the qualities which the writer possessed, his insight into character, his pathetic power, and his affectionate heart, render this short piece one of the most attractive biographies extant.^[1192]

With what simple pathos does he tell us of the obligation which Agricola, like so many other great men, owed to the educating care of his pure-minded, prudent, and indulgent mother, and the gratitude with which he was wont constantly to speak of that obligation! With what affection does he speak of one bound to him, not only by the ties of affinity, but by the stronger ties of a congenial temper and disposition! In his reflections on his death, there is no affected attempt at dramatic display. The few words devoted to so mournful a subject simply breathe the overwhelming sense of bereavement, unassuaged by the consolation of being present at his last moments. “Happy wert thou, Agricola, not only because thy life was glorious, but because thy death was well-timed! All who heard thy last words bear witness to the constancy with which thou didst welcome death as though thou wert determined manfully to acquit the emperor of being the cause. But the bitterness of thy daughter’s sorrow and mine for the loss of a parent is enhanced by the reflection, that it did not fall to our lot to watch over thy declining health, to solace thy failing strength, to enjoy thy last looks, thy last embraces. Faithfully would we have listened to thy parting words and wishes, and imprinted them deeply on our memories. This was our chief sorrow, our most painful wound. Owing to our long absence from Rome, thou hadst been lost to us four years before. Doubtless, O best of parents! enough, and more than enough, of honour was paid to thee by the assiduous attention of thy affectionate wife; still the last offices were paid thee amidst too few tears, and thine eyes were conscious that some loved object was absent just as their light was dimmed for ever.” To this tribute of dutiful affection, succeed sentiments of noble resignation, joined with an humble conviction of the transitory nature of human talents, and an earnest looking-for of immortality. To us, the biography of Agricola is especially interesting, because Britain was the scene of his glory as a military commander, and of his success in civil administration. His army first penetrated beyond the Friths of Forth and Clyde into the Highlands of Scotland, and his fleet first circumnavigated the northern extremities of the British island.

The treatise on the geography, manners and nations of Germany (De Situ Moribus et Populus Germaniæ) is but little longer than the Life of Agricola. The information contained in it is exactly of that character which might be expected, considering the sources from which it was derived. Tacitus was never in Germany, and therefore his knowledge was collected from those who had visited it for the purposes either of war or commerce. Hence his geographical descriptions are often vague and inaccurate; a mixture of the marvellous shows that some of his narratives consist in mere travellers’ tales, whilst the salient points and characteristic features of the national manners bear the impress of truth, and are supported by the well-known habits and institutions of Teutonic nations.

He tells of their bards, and explains the etymology of the term by the word Barditum, which signified the recitation of their songs.^[1193] He hints at wild legends and dark superstitions with which the German imagination still loves to people the dark recesses of their forests.^[1194] He describes their pure and unmixed race, and, consequently, the universal prevalence of the national features—blue eyes, red or sandy hair, and stalwart and gigantic frames.^[1195] According to his account, their political constitutions were elective monarchies, but the monarch was always of noble birth and his power limited;^[1196] and all matters of importance were debated by the estate of the people.^[1197] In the solemn permission accorded to a German youth to bear arms, and his investiture with lance and shield, is seen the origin of knighthood;^[1198] and in the sanctity of the marriage-tie, the chastity of the female sex, their social influence, and the respect paid to them—the rarity of adultery and its severe punishment, and the total absence of polygamy—we recognise the germ of the distinguishing characteristics of chivalry.^[1199] They were hospitable and constant to their hereditary friendships, but stern in perpetuating family feuds;^[1200] passionately fond of gambling, and strict in their regard for debts of honour;^[1201] inveterate drinkers, and their favourite potation was beer;^[1202] they could not consult on important matters without a convivial meeting;^[1203] if they quarrelled over their cups, they had recourse rarely to words, usually to blows.^[1204] Their slaves were in the condition of serfs or villains, and paid to the lord a fixed rent in corn, or cattle, or manufactures.^[1205] They reckoned their time by nights instead of days,^[1206] just as we are accustomed to use the expressions se’nnight and fortnight.

After having sketched the manners and customs of the nation as a whole he proceeds to treat of each tribe separately.^[1207] In speaking of our forefathers, the Angli, who inhabited part of the modern territory of Sleswick Holstein, and whose name is still retained in the district of Angeln, one word which he uses is an English one. The Angli, he says, together with the conterminous tribes, worship Herthus, i. e. Terra.^[1208] Even in these early times he mentions the naval superiority of the Suiones, who were the ancestors of the Normans and Sea-kings. With these he affirms that the continent of Europe terminates, and all beyond is a motionless and frozen ocean.^[1209] Truth in these distant climes mingles with fable. Daylight continues after the sun has set, but a hissing noise is heard as his blazing orb plunges into the sea, and the forms of the gods, and the radiant glories which surround their heads, are visible.^[1210] The list of marvels ends with fabulous beings, whose bodies and limbs are those of wild beasts, whilst their heads and faces are human.

The earliest historical work of Tacitus is his “Historiæ,” of which only four books and a portion of the fifth are extant. Their contents extend from the second consulship of Galba^[1211] to the commencement of the siege of Jerusalem. The original work concluded with the death of Domitian.^[1212] He purposed also, if his life had been spared, to add the reigns of Nerva and Trajan, as the employment of his old age. “The materials for which,” he says, “are more plentiful and trustworthy, because of the unusual felicity of an age in which men were allowed to think as they pleased, and to give utterance to what they thought.”^[1213] It is plain from the word Divus (the deified) being prefixed to the name of Nerva, and not to that of Trajan, in the passage above quoted, that this work was written after Trajan had put on the imperial purple.^[1214]

According to St. Jerome it originally consisted of thirty books; and the minuteness with which each event is recorded in the portion extant renders it highly probable that the original work was as extensive as this assertion would imply. The object which he proposed to himself was worthy of his penetrating mind, from the searching gaze of which even the hypocrisy and dissimulation of a Tiberius were powerless to veil the foul darkness of his crafty nature. He intended “to investigate the political state of the commonwealth, the feelings of its armies, the sentiments of the provinces, the elements of its strength and weakness, the causes and reasons for each phænomenon.”^[1215] The principal fault which diminishes the value of his history as a record of events, is his too great readiness to accept evidence unhesitatingly, and to record popular rumours without taking sufficient pains to examine into their truth. Still these blots are but few, scattered over a vast field of faithful history. Perhaps the most lamentable instance is presented in his incorrect account of the history, constitution, and manners of the Jewish people. Wanting either the opportunity or the inclination to consult the sacred books of the nation, he mixes up vague traditions of their early history with the fables of Pagan mythology; and, like the Greeks and Romans, gives names to imaginary patriarchs, taken from localities connected with their history.

According to his account the Jews originally inhabited Crete,^[1216] and from Mount Ida, in that Island, received the name of Idæi, which afterwards became corrupted into Judæi. From Crete, when Saturn was expelled by Jove, they took refuge in Egypt; and thence under two leaders, Juda and Hierosolymus, again migrated to the neighbouring country of Palestine. A second tradition attributes to them an Assyrian origin; a third an Æthiopian; a fourth asserts that they were descended from the Solymi which Homer celebrated in his poems.^[1217]

The next tradition which he mentions approaches nearer to the true one. Egypt being afflicted with a plague, the king Bocchoris, by the advice of the oracle of Ammon, purged his kingdom of them, and under the guidance of Moses they began their wanderings. When they were dying on their way for want of water, their leader followed a herd of wild asses, by which he was led to a copious well of water. Thus was their drought relieved; and, after journeying six days, they obtained possession of the land in which they built their capital and temple. Moses introduced new religious rites contrary to those of other nations. He set up the image of an ass in the Holy of Holies—a statement which afterwards Tacitus virtually contradicts by saying that they allow no images in their temples,^[1218] that they preferred taking up arms to admitting the statue of Caligula into the temple;^[1219] and that when Pompey took Jerusalem,^[1220] he found no image of any deity, and the sanctuary empty. He adds, that they sacrifice rams in order to show contempt to Jupiter Ammon, and oxen, because, under that form, Apis was worshipped by the Egyptians; that they abstain from pork in remembrance of their having been afflicted with leprosy, to which that animal is subject, and eat unleavened bread as a memorial of their once having stolen food. On the seventh day, which terminated their wanderings, they do no work, and in like manner the seventh year they devote to idleness. This Sabbath, some assert that they keep holy in honour of Saturn. They believe in the immortality of the soul, and in future rewards and punishments, and embalm their dead like the Egyptians. Such are the various traditions respecting the Jews which Tacitus incorporates in his Histories.

The Annals, which were written subsequently to the Histories, were so called, because each historical event is recorded in historical order under the year to which it belongs.^[1221] They consist of sixteen books; commence with the death of Augustus,^[1222] and conclude with that of Nero.^[1223] The only portions extant are—the first four books, part of the fifth, the sixth, part of the eleventh, the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and the commencement of the sixteenth book. The Annals are rather histories of each successive emperor than of the Roman people; but this is the necessary condition of narrating the fortunes of a nation which now possessed only the bare name, and not the reality of constitutional government. The state was now the emperor; the end and object of the social system his security; and every political event must therefore be treated in relation to him.

But a history of this kind in the hands of one who had such skill in diving into the recesses of man’s heart, who could read so shrewdly and delineate so vigorously human character, who possessed as a writer such picturesque and dramatic power, becomes the more interesting from its biographical nature, and its philosophical importance as a moral rather than a political study. It is not, owing to circumstances over which the author had no control, the history of a great nation, for the Romans, as a whole, were no longer great. Neither does it paint the rise, progress and development of constitutional freedom, for it had reached its zenith, had declined, become paralyzed, and finally extinct. But still there existed bright examples of heroism, and courage, and self-devotion, truly Roman, and instances not less prominent of corruption and degradation. Individuals stand out in bold relief, eminent for the noblest virtues or blackened by the basest crimes. These appear either singly or in groups upon the stage: the emperor forms the principal figure; and the moral sense of the reader is awakened to admire instances of patient suffering and determined bravery, or abject slavery and remorseless despotism.

The object of Tacitus, therefore, was not, like that of the great philosophical historian of Greece, to describe the growth of political institutions, or the implacable animosities which raged between opposite political principles—the struggles for supremacy between a class and a whole people—but the influence which the establishment of tyranny on the ruins of liberty exercised for good or for evil in bringing out the character of the individual. Rome, the imperial city, was the all-engrossing subject of his predecessors; Romans were but subordinate and accessary. Tacitus delineated the lives and deaths of individuals, and showed the relation which they bore to the fortunes of their country.

It would have been impossible to have satisfied a people whose taste had become more than ever rhetorical, without the introduction of orations. Those of Tacitus are perfect specimens of art; and probably, with the exception of Galgacus,^[1224] far more true than those of other Roman historians. Still he made use of them, not only to imbody traditional accounts of what had really been said on each occasion, but to illustrate his own views of the character of the speaker, and to convey his own political opinions.

Full of sagacious observation and descriptive power, Tacitus engages the most serious attention of the reader by the gravity of his condensed and comprehensive style, as he does by the wisdom and dignity of his reflections. The purity and gravity of his sentiments remind the reader even of Christian authors.

Living amidst the influences of a corrupt age he was uncontaminated; and by his virtue and integrity, his chastened political liberality, commands our admiration as a man, whilst his love of truth is reflected in his character as an historian. Although he imitated, as well as approved, the cautious policy of his father-in-law, he was not destitute of moral firmness.

It derogates nothing from his courage that he was silent during the perilous times in which great part of his life was passed, and spoke with boldness only when the happy reign of Nerva had commenced, and the broken spirit of the nation had revived. Like the rest of his fellow-countrymen he exhibited a remarkable example of patient endurance, when the imperial jealousy made even the praise of those who were obnoxious to the tyrant treason; when it was considered a capital crime for Arulenus Rusticus to praise Pætus Thrasea, and Herennius Senecio to eulogize Priscus Helvidius.

In those fearful times he himself says, that “as old Rome had witnessed the greatest glories of liberty, so her descendants had been cast down to the lowest depths of slavery; and would have been deprived of the use of memory, as well as of language, if it were equally in man’s power to forget as to be silent.”^[1225] In such times prudence was a duty, and daring courage would have been unavailing rashness. In his praise of Agricola, and his blame of Pætus, he enunciates the principles which regulate his own conduct—that to endanger yourself without the slightest prospect of benefiting your country is mere ostentatious ambition. “Sciant,” he writes, “quibus moris illicita mirari, posse etiam sub malis principibus magnos viros esse; obsequiumque ac modestiam, si industria ac vigor adsint, eo laudis excedere quo plerique per abrupta, sed in nullum reipublicæ usum ambitiosa morte inclaruerunt.”^[1226] Again, “Thrasea Pætus sibi causam periculi fecit, cæteris libertatis initium non præbuit.”^[1227]

In the style of Tacitus the form is always subordinate to the matter; the ideas maintain their due supremacy over the language in which they are conveyed. There is none of that striving after epigrammatic terseness which savours of affectation. His brevity, like that which characterizes the style of Thucydides, is the necessary condensation of a writer whose thoughts flow more quickly than his pen can express them. Hence his sentences are suggestive of far more than they express: they are enigmatical hints of deep and hidden meaning, which keep the mind active and the attention alive, and delight the reader with the pleasures of discovery and the consciousness of difficulties overcome. Nor is this natural and unintentional brevity unsuitable to the cautious reserve with which all were tutored to speak and think of political subjects in perilous times. It is extraordinary how often a similarity between his mind and that of Thucydides inadvertently discovers itself—not only in his mode of thinking, but also in his language, even in his grammatical constructions, especially in his frequent substitution of attraction for government, in instances of condensed construction, and in the connexion of clauses grammatically different, although they are metaphysically the same.

Nor is his brevity dry or harsh—it is enlivened by copiousness, variety, and poetry. He scarcely ever repeats the same idea in the same form. No author is richer in synonymous words, or arranges with more varied skill the position of words in a sentence. As for poetic genius, his language is highly figurative; no prose writer deals more largely in prosopopœia: his descriptions of scenery and incidents are eminently picturesque; his characters dramatic; the expression of his own sentiments and feelings as subjective as lyric poetry.