The epigram in question reads as follows:

In translating, I attempt only to present the general purport.

The interpretation placed by Schmidt on these and similar verses, that the damnum stood for a pecuniary loss to the author, and that productions which secured for themselves popular favor brought, therefore, to their authors pecuniary gain, is upheld by Becker. He maintains that authors were evidently attracted to Rome by the prospects of such receipts, and that, to a considerable extent at least, they depended upon the same for their support. “It is not easy to believe,” Becker continues, “that a needy author like Martial, always in want of money, would have been willing to permit Tryphon, Secundus, and Polius to make profits out of his productions without arranging to secure any portion of these profits for himself.”[213] Birt, who, as we have before seen, is a firm believer in the conclusion that Roman writers secured compensation for their work, is of opinion that this compensation must usually have taken the shape of a præmium, as Martial puts it, a round payment or honorarium, made probably on the delivery of the manuscript, rather than that of a royalty.[214]

One of Martial’s references to the customary præmium occurs in these verses.[215] The poet has been protesting against the weary and unprofitable role of a client or follower. He asks that Rome may spare him from any such thankless and trivial tasks as those which come upon the weary “congratulator,” who, for his dreary service, earns through the day at best but a hundred miserable pennies (plumbeos), while Scorpus (the gladiator) carries off in an hour, as victor, fifteen sacks of gleaming gold. Then follow the lines:

“As a reward (præmium) for my books (for what, indeed, are they worth?) I ask not for the Appulian fields; neither Hybla nor the fruitful Nile attracts me, nor the luscious grapes which from the Setian hillside hang over the Pontine marshes. You ask what do I then desire; I reply—to sleep.”

These lines should, of course, be interpreted in connection with the poet’s other utterances, which, as we have seen, are not marked by any lack of appreciation of the importance of his literary productions. It seems probable that the query, “what, indeed, are they worth?” is meant as a mere façon de parler, and is intended to be answered with a full appreciation of the inestimable value of his poems to the reader and to the community. I judge further that the poet in naming the attractive things of this world which he would not demand as his reward, while, of course, speaking with a certain hyperbole of phrase, is at the same time making a kind of undercurrent of suggestion that fruitful hillsides, or even great provinces, would not, in fact, be a disproportioned reward for talents and services like his. The lines remind one of what Dickens (in his sketch of the election of a beadle) describes as the “great negative style” of oratory. “I will not speak of his valiant services in the militia, I will not refer to his charming wife and nine children, two at the breast,” etc. The important detail in the lines, however, for our present purpose is the reference to a præmium or compensation of some kind or amount as naturally to be looked for and to be depended upon for successful literary production. Taking this reference in connection with others of similar purport, it is, I think, safe to conclude that, notwithstanding the lack of protection of the law, Martial and other writers of his time who were not too rich to require such earnings or too proud to demand them, earned money with their pens, or rather with their styli.

I add references to a few other instances of payments or returns to authors.

One of the earliest is mentioned by Suetonius.[216] Pompilius Andronicus, the grammarian, sold his treatise for 1600 sesterces. This sale must have comprised the original manuscript, together with such author’s and publishing “rights” as existed. The younger Pliny is quoted by Birt[217]—as saying that Pliny the elder had, while in Spain, declined an offer from a certain Lucinus of 40,000 sesterces (about $1800.00) for his commentaries. Lucinus was not a publisher, but apparently some enthusiastic admirer of the author.

In another epigram[218] Martial makes a curious slap at two contemporary poets:

“Gallus and Lupercus sell their poetry. Now deny, O Classicus! that they are real poets (or poets in their right minds, or poets of common sense).”

As Haenny suggests (citing Schrevel), no one dares to deny the sanity of a poet who can get money for his productions, but one might question the sanity of the publisher who pays the money.

Haenny thinks that Martial is sneering at the practice (unworthy of poets) of writing for gain. Such a position seems to me entirely inconsistent with Martial’s other expressions. It seems to me much more likely that Martial is sneering at the idea that these particular writers have produced any poems that are worth money. Lupercus is probably the same person whom Martial rebuked for trying to secure his, Martial’s, poems without paying for them.

In one epigram[219] Martial advises a friend, who comes to him for counsel concerning a profession for his son, by no means to permit him to become a poet. If the boy has money-making desires, let him learn to play on the cithara or the flute. If he seems to have real capacity, he might become a herald or an architect.

In another[220] he points out that no money can be obtained from Phœbus or from Thessalian songs. It is Minerva who has wealth—she alone lends money to the other gods. In a third[221] he complains that in writing poetry he may give pleasure to his readers, but he does so at a serious sacrifice to himself, for if he chose, in place of giving his time to verses, to serve as an advocate, to sell his influence to anxious defendants, his clients “would become his purse.” As it is, however, he must console himself with the thought that his readers are benefited although the poet works practically without recompense.

Later, the poet likens his literary work to a die or a cast from a dice-box, the result of the labor being at best an uncertainty.[222]

It was through patronage that literature became remunerative, and fortunately for the authors the patronage of literature became, under Octavius, fashionable. I have already referred to the familiar name of Mæcenas, whose influence in interesting his fellow-patricians and the young Emperor in the literary productions of the capital was most important. The fashion of patronage thus initiated continued to a greater or less extent until the days of Hadrian. As Simcox expresses it, the poets got into the habit of expecting to be treated “as semi-sacred pensioners, as they have been at the courts of the princes of the heroic age of Greece and Scandinavia—as they are still at the courts of certain princes in India who trace their descent up to the heroic age.”[223] In the age of Anne, English poets passed through a somewhat similar experience, and during the reigns of the first two Georges, they were not infrequently haunted by the same expectations. The bitter line, as paraphrased by Johnson, after his experience with Lord Chesterfield, commemorating the evil of the poet’s lot, has become proverbial

In Rome when, in the decline of the literary interests of the Court, the hopes of patronage were finally abandoned, the profession of poetry seems for a time to have been practically given up.

Juvenal takes as the subject of his seventh satire the poverty of men of letters. He complains that the Emperor is their sole stay, and that authors can make no money and have as a dependence only the unprofitable patronage of the great. The poets who recite their verses, the historians, the lawyers, the rhetoricians who act as instructors for the young, are made to pass in turn before him, and of each the condition arouses the compassion of his irritable muse. In this satire we find references to the practice among poets of giving public readings of their productions. “Macalonus will lend you his palace and will provide some freedmen and some obliging friends to applaud. But among all these, you will find no one who will furnish you with means to pay either for seats in the parquet or orchestra, or even for places in the gallery.”[224]

Or again, it is Statius who gives a reading of his Thebaïd.

The author of the dialogue on the decadence of oratory (attributed to Tacitus) makes mention also of these public lectures or readings, and of what they cost to a certain Bassus, for hiring a hall, for programmes, and for outlays in getting an audience together.

Rogare ultro et ambire cogitur ut sint qui dignentur audire; et ne id quidem gratis. Nam et domum mutuatur, et auditorium exstruit, et subsellia conducit, et libellos dispergit.[226]

Apart from the use of authorship as a profession, it was of course pursued by many as an agreeable means of beguiling leisure, the results being harmless for posterity if not entirely so for the neighbors of the writer. In this respect, Rome, in the third century, was not very different from London or New York in the nineteenth. The dilettante tragedian frequently restricted his literary ambition to securing a hearing for his productions before an audience, whether public or private, and did not venture to plan for his works any wider publication.

There are not a few references to banquets at which the guests paid for their dinners by listening, with due appreciation, to the latest tragedy of their host.

In some instances at least the guests must have found occasion really to value their literary as well as their gastronomic entertainment, as not a few works which had been left by their authors uncopied and uncared for, have been preserved for posterity only through the care of admiring friends.

Donatus says that Virgil had planned before his death to burn his Æneid, unwilling that it should be published without further revision, and that the work was only saved by the commands of Augustus.[227] Other writers, either by reason of dread of critical opinion or from an extreme standard of thoroughness, kept their manuscripts in their desks for a number of years after completing them. As Catullus says, after publication there can be no thought of further emendation. He speaks of one of Cinna’s volumes as given to the world after the ninth winter (edita nonam post hiemem).[228]

This term of nine years happens to coincide with the advice of Horace, that a literary work should be held back for nine years—nonum prematur in annum,—for the word once published can never be recalled.[229]

Pliny permitted his friend Saturninus to help him with the revision of his Schedulæ, but is not even then assured that he will be satisfied to permit them to come before the public: Erit enim et post emendationem liberum nobis vel publicare vel continere—“and after the revision of the books it still rested with us to decide whether to publish them or to hold them back.”[230]

Fronto, who was tutor to Marcus Aurelius, had written a pamphlet against a certain Asclepiodotus, and had arranged with a publisher for the issue of an edition. Hearing later that Verus (the adopted son of Antoninus Pius) was friendly to Asclepiodotus, he hastened to the publisher’s office to cancel the publication, but finds, to his regret, that he is too late, a number of copies having already gone out to the public, curavi quidem abolere orationem, sed jam pervaserat in manus plurimum quam ut aboleri posset.[231]

According to Birt,[232] the oldest book-shop—that is, retail book-shop—known to have existed in Rome was that in which Clodius hid himself (58 A.D.). Later, we find the stalls of the bibliopoles placed in the most frequented quarters of the city, by the Janus Gate of the Forum, by the Temple of Peace, on the Argiletum, in the Vicus Sandalarius, and on the Sigillaria. Martial speaks in fact of the street Argiletum as being chiefly occupied by booksellers, with whom, curiously enough, he tells us, were associated the fashionable tailors.[233] It would be pleasing to think that there was ever a time or a city in which the buying of books was as much of a fashionable diversion as the buying of clothes.

Both Horace and Martial speak of the book-shops as having become places of resort where the more active-minded citizens got into the habit of meeting to look over the literary novelties and to discuss the latest gossip, literary or social. On the door-posts or on columns near the entrance were placed the advertisements of recent publications and the announcements of works in preparation. Martial gives us the description as follows:

Birt finds evidences that before the close of the first century, the book trade in Rome and through many portions of the Empire had developed into large proportions. Each week the packets from Alexandria brought into Rome great cargoes of papyrus from the paper-makers of Alexandria. These papyrus rolls, first stored in the warehouses, speedily find their way to the workrooms of the publishers, where hundreds of skilled slaves follow with swift pens the rapid dictation of the readers, who relieve each other from time to time. Others occupy themselves with the work of comparison and revision, while a third group, the glutinatores, cover the completed manuscripts with appropriate bindings. In the book-shop, taberna, are attractively presented for the attention of the scholars, the dilettanti, the real collectors, and their fashionable imitators, the collections of the accepted classics and of the latest literary novelties. Here a cheap edition of the Æneid is sold for school use for a few pennies; there great sums are expended for a veritable “original” text of some work by Demosthenes, Thucydides, Cato, or Lucilius[235]; while a third buyer is placing a wholesale order for a “proper assortment” of literature to serve as an adornment for a new villa.

From the Roman bibliopoles large shipments of books are also regularly made to other cities, such as Brundisium, fasces librorum venalium expositos vidimus in Brundisio,[236] or Lugdunum[237] (Lyons), or Vienna (in Gaul).[238]

It seems also to have been the practice (which has not been abandoned in modern times) to ship off to the provinces the over supplies or “remainders” of editions of books which had in the capital gone out of fashion. Aut fugies Uticam aut vinctus mitteris Ilerdam.[239]

Notwithstanding this extreme activity of the business of making and selling books, Birt is inclined to conclude that the lot of the poor student must have been a difficult one.

Such libraries as existed in Rome and Italy had not been instituted with reference to the work of students, as had been done with the collections in Alexandria, and the Roman State appears in fact to have given very little attention to the requirements of higher education.

An author, named Diogenian, writing in the time of Hadrian, undertook to supply the needs of the impecunious student of philology, the πένης πεπαιδευμένος of Lucian, with his book entitled περιεργοπένητες, which was so comprehensive in its information as to enable its fortunate owner to “do without any other work on its subject.”[240]

Birt concludes from certain references that the leading publishers in Rome had during the beginning of the second century organized themselves into an association for the better protection of their interests in literary property, and that each member of such association bound himself not to interfere with the undertakings of his fellow-members. As Roman literature increased in commercial importance, some such arrangement or undertaking was, of course, indispensable, as in connection with the cheapening rates for the labor of slave copyists, indiscriminate competition could only have resulted in anarchy in the book-world, and have retarded indefinitely the development of literature as a profession. Birt evidently had in mind the existence of some such Publishers’ Commission as was instituted by the book-trade of Leipsic in the 17th century, but it is not likely that the Roman association succeeded in securing any such definite and effective organization.

It is on record, however, that the publisher Tryphon claimed to possess a legal control over the writings of Quintilian, while there is, unfortunately, nothing to show by what means he was enabled to retain such control.[241] Tryphon took credit to himself for having persuaded the reluctant Quintilian to permit the publication of certain works which would otherwise have been lost to posterity.[242] Quintilian refers to Tryphon as a trusted friend, on whose judgment he relied.[243] Tryphon was also one of the numerous publishers of Martial.[244]

The name of the librarius Dorus, mentioned by Seneca as a contemporary of his own, is worthy of note because he was one of the earliest buyers of publishing rights or copyrights. Seneca understands, namely, that Dorus had purchased from the heirs of Atticus and from those of Cicero the publishing rights and the “remainders” of the editions of Cicero’s works.[245]

An ownership was claimed by the State in the Sibylline books, but this was of course never exercised in the form of a publishing right. It is related, however, that the duumvir Attilius suffered the punishment of death, adjudged to a parricide, because, being charged with the custody of the Sibylline books, he suffered Petronius Sabinus to copy some portions of the same. This might be called an infringement of a copyright vested in the State, but in the regard of the Roman law the deed was evidently considered simply as a sacrilege.[246]

Suetonius relates, in his Life of Domitian, an instance in which the Emperor administered, on the ground of certain objectionable passages in a work of history, a penalty so severe that it is difficult to accept the report as accurate. He says: Hermogenem Tarsensem occidit propter quasdam in historia figuras; librariis etiam qui eam descripserant cruce fixis. “He killed Hermogenes of Tarsus on account of certain expressions in his history; even the booksellers who had circulated the work were crucified.”[247]

If the account is correct, we have in this instance a very early application of the present usage in regard to the circulation of so-called “libellous” matter. The bookseller of to-day no longer dreads capital punishment at the hands of an irate monarch, but it is perfectly possible for him to be forced into bankruptcy through the penalties collected on account of the circulation (however unwittingly) of volumes containing statements called by the law “libellous.”

The principal customers of the booksellers were the schoolmasters and the so-called “grammarians.” To these should be added, from the beginning of the first century, an increasing number of libraries. The first public library in Rome is said to have been founded as early as 167 B.C., but it was not until the reign of Augustus that the Roman libraries became important and that in the other cities also libraries were instituted.

There was a library attached to the temple of Apollo on the Palatine hill in Rome, which Simcox refers to as an humble imitation of the Museum of Alexandria, but I do not know the date of its founding. It is noted of Tibullus, who was usually indifferent to fame, that he consented to send to this library a copy of his collected writings, and there are other references from which it appeared that, either from public spirit or from a desire for public appreciation, authors made a practice of presenting copies of their books to this Palatine library, and that in this way a considerable collection was brought together, of which the public had the benefit; but it is certain that there was no municipal or imperial enactment prescribing such presentation copies, and it does not appear that any of the emperors took any such active interest in furthering the development of literature and of the literary education of the public as had been shown by the Ptolemies of Alexandria.

In Rome there were, according to Birt, twenty-nine public libraries founded between the reign of Augustus and that of Hadrian, while there are various references to the public libraries of the smaller cities. Aulus Gellius[248] speaks of the library in Tibur (the modern Tivoli) in Herculis Templo satis commode instructa libris. Comum (the modern Como) possessed a library given to it by Pliny.[249] The Roman Athens had a public library connected with the College of the Ptolemies, and the Emperor Hadrian founded a second.[250] Strabo speaks with appreciation of the library of Smyrna.[251]

It appears probable that, at least for the first three or four centuries after Christ, the larger proportion of the books contained in the public libraries (as in the private collections) were in Greek. Cicero speaks more than once of the fact that the Greek books were comparatively plenty, while those in Latin were scarce.[252] Juvenal’s character, the impecunious Cordus, “possessed but few books, and those in Greek.”[253] Suetonius, in speaking of the restoration by Domitian of the public libraries which had been burned by Nero, states that the Emperor collected from all sources trustworthy texts and forwarded them to Alexandria for use in the production of the many copies required.[254] It is evident, in the first place, that at this time (about 90 A.D.) the supply of skilled copyists in Rome was still inadequate for any such extended undertakings, and secondly, that there was question merely of works in Greek, for Latin texts would hardly have been sent to Alexandria.

Even without the aid of scholarly government supervision and of liberal government appropriations, the public libraries of Rome and of the leading cities of the provinces must have been of no little importance in furthering the literary interests of the time, while they rendered to posterity the important service of preserving not a few works which would otherwise apparently have perished entirely. For this latter service we are indebted, however, not only to the libraries but to the vanity of the authors, who for the most part took pains to place in one or more of the public libraries copies of their writings as soon as published. Of certain works of which the originals have disappeared, such knowledge as we have comes to us only in the fragments given in the school readers, which for each generation of young students were made up of extracts from the books of the previous generation of writers.

Some of these “classical” readers of the period of the early Empire were copied for use in the monastic schools of some centuries later, but these were in large part speedily superseded by the collections of legends and breviaries which came to be accepted as the proper literature for the monastery and the convent.

In addition to the “grammarians” buying books for their professional needs, and the city libraries purchasing for the public welfare, there were, during the first two centuries, an increasing number of private collectors, not a few of whom, however, bought books, not from any scholarly interest, but simply because it became the fashion to do so. Seneca speaks of great collections of books in the hands of men who had never so much as read their titles.[255] Such purchases must nevertheless have been important for the encouragement of literary work in Rome. Many of the public baths were furnished with libraries[255]; a country house could not be complete without a library, says Cicero[256]; each one of the villas of Italicus, according to Pliny, had its library[257]; Trimalchio, says Petronius,[258] possessed no less than three. A statue of Hermes, found in Rome, bears an epigram which speaks of βύβλοι in the grove of the Muses, and which undoubtedly had been intended to be placed in the library of some country villa.[259]

Among some of the larger private collections referred to are those of the grammarian Epaphroditus, who possessed 30,000 volumes,[260] and of Serenus Sammoaicus, who is credited with over 60,000 volumes.[261]

The impecunious Martial, on the other hand, tells us that his own collection comprised less than 120 rolls.[262]

We have already referred to the practical interest taken by Martial in the details of bookselling. We find him quoting the authority of the booksellers against certain critics, who were not willing to rank Lucian as a poet of repute, and showing that after thirty years or more there was still a steady demand for Lucian’s poetical works.

Martial takes the ground that continued popular appreciation is sufficient evidence of literary repute, whatever the critics may say to the contrary.[263]

The same satirist refers more than once to many amiable and deserving authors, who, despite their talents, succeeded in reaching no public at all other than the unhappy guests who learned from experience to dread the admirable dinners which had to be paid for by listening to literary productions. The practice of recitations on the part of the host must have been quite general, if when no such performance was intended it was considered desirable to mention the fact in the invitations. Martial quotes himself as promising to Stella in inviting him to dinner, that under no provocation will he be tempted to recite anything, not even though Stella should recite his own poem on the “Wars of the Giants.”[264]

Martial explains the inferiority of the literary production of the reign of Domitian by the fact that there was no Mæcenas to give encouragement to authors. All the great poets of the Augustan age had, as he recalls, been placed in easy circumstances (as far as they were not so already) either through the direct bounty of Mæcenas or as a result of his influence over the Court. According to the view of Martial, literature possessing any lasting value is impossible without the leisure and freedom from care which comes from an assured income. Mæcenas, and the fashion of subsidizing literature initiated by him, appear in a crude way, in presenting encouragement for literary work, to have supplied the place of a copyright law.

There may, of course, often have been question as to what constituted a “proper compensation” for a poetical effort. Tacitus speaks of a certain Roman knight, C. Lutorius Priscus, who had won some repute from a poem on the death of Germanicus. He thereupon composed another poem on the death of Drusus (son of Tiberius), who was at the time seriously ill, but who was perverse enough to recover. Priscus had, however, already read his poem aloud, after which he was promptly put to death under a vote of the Senate, whether on account of the badness of the poem, or because he had prophesied the death of the Prince, Tacitus does not state.[265]

Juvenal joins with Martial in characterizing the writing of poetry as an unsatisfactory profession, and hints more strongly than Martial that the profession was spoiled by amateurs. He suggests as a further ground for the absence of first-rate poetry, that all the subjects had been exhausted, meaning, of course, all the mythological subjects. He arrives at the conclusion that poetry and literature in general are dying, and considers this is not to be wondered at, since even if a man of letters makes a sacrifice which ought not to be required of him, and turns schoolmaster, he will be grossly underpaid, and often not able to recover the beggarly pittance which will be due him.[266]

This inadequacy of the legitimate returns for literary work was doubtless considered by Martial as a sufficient justification for utilizing his unquestioned literary cleverness in ways not always legitimate, for, as has been pointed out by Cruttwell, Simcox, and others, not a few of the epigrams look like demands for blackmail. “Somebody”—the poet declines to know who the somebody is—“has given offence”; if the poet should discuss who, so much the worse for somebody. He is full of veiled personalities of the most damaging kind. He deprecates guessing at the persons indicated, but they must have recognized themselves, and have seen the need of propitiating a poet who was at once politic and vindictive. He insists repeatedly upon his successful avoidance of all personal attacks, while he had been lavish of personal compliments. He tells us himself that these were not given gratis, and when somebody whom he has praised ignores the obligation he receives, the fact is published as a general warning. We cannot doubt that when Martial wrote that “there were no baths in the world like the baths of Etruscus,” and that “whoever missed bathing in them would die without bathing,” he expected to be paid in some form or other for the valuable advertisement he was giving to Etruscus.[267] In like manner, when he answers numerous requests for a copy of his poems with a reference to his bookseller, adding a jocose assurance that the poems are not really worth the money, it is fair to assume that the bookseller had paid something for the manuscript or that the author had some continued interest in the sales.[268]

In being obliged by the narrowness of his means to watch thus closely the sales of his booksellers, and in believing himself compelled to pick up sesterces by writing complimentary epigrams or threatening abusive ones, Martial may well have envied the assured position of his contemporary Quintilian, who received from the imperial treasury as a rhetorician a salary, which, with his other emoluments, gave him an income of 100,000 sesterces (about $4000). Quintilian appears to have been the first rhetorician to whom an imperial salary was given.

It is evident that at this time the art of the rhetorician or reciter was still one of importance. The great books of the Claudian period were evidently written to be recited or to please a taste formed by the habit of recitation.[269] After the reign of Claudius the noteworthy works, with the exception perhaps of the Thebaïd of Statius, were certainly written to be read. How many readers they found is a more difficult thing to determine. There was certainly, on the part of some writers at least, no lack of persistency. Labeo, the jurist (who died 13 A.D.), is credited, for instance (or should we say debited?), with the production of no less than four hundred works.[270]

The average editions of works addressed to the general public are estimated by Birt to have comprised not less than five hundred copies, and in many cases a thousand copies.[271] Pliny, writing about 60 A.D., makes reference to a volume by M. Aquilus Regulus (a memoir of his deceased son), of which the author caused to be made one thousand copies for distribution throughout Italy and the provinces. Pliny thinks it rather absurd that for a volume like this, of limited and purely personal interest, the piety and the vanity of the author should have caused an edition to be prepared larger than that usually issued of readable works.[272] Birt is of opinion that there is sufficient evidence in the references of Horace, Propertius, Ovid, Martial, and others, to show the existence of a well organized system for the distribution and sale of books, not only in Italy, but throughout the distant provinces of Gaul, Britain, Germany, and Scythia. Such a distribution, even if restricted to the larger cities, would have been impracticable with editions of much less than one thousand copies.[273] In support of this view regarding a widespread distribution of books, Birt quotes a passage from Pliny concerning the service to literature rendered by Varro.

Varro, who was a contemporary of Cicero, appears to have interested himself not only in biography, but in almost every department of research. He is credited with forty-one books on antiquities, seventy-six books of edifying dialogues, fifteen books of parallel lives of illustrious Greeks and Romans, twenty-five books on the Latin language, nine books on the “seven liberal arts,” fifteen books on civil law, thirty political memoirs, twenty-two books of speeches, one hundred and fifty satires, and a number of minor works.[276] Such industry and versatility have few parallels in the history of literature, although it is to be borne in mind that the author was favored with length of days, and was able to be active in literary work as late as his eighty-second year. It is evident, however, that there must have been some measure of appreciation on the part of the public and the publisher to have encouraged him to such long-continued production.

Possibly the earliest instance of any practical interest taken by the imperial government in furthering the distribution of literature for the higher education of the public, is presented by an edict of the Emperor Tacitus (275 A.D.), ordering that every public library throughout the Empire should possess not less than ten sets of the writings of his ancestor, Tacitus, the historian. His reign of two hundred days was, however, too brief to enable him to ensure the execution of his decree. It seems probable that if the aged Emperor (he was in his seventy-fifth year when he came to the throne) had been able to carry out his plan, posterity would not have had occasion to mourn the disappearance of so large a portion of the writings of the great historian.

Tacitus, the historian, was born about 60 A.D., in a small town of Umbria. His father was of equestrian rank and a man of importance, and it is interesting to note that the son, instead of being sent to Athens for his education, as was so frequently done with well born youths of the preceding generation, received his university training at Massilia (the modern Marseilles), which by the close of the first century had become an important centre of literature and education. The supremacy of Athens in influencing the higher education of Italy had come to a close, and the centre of intellectual life was moving westward. Tacitus was evidently a man of no little versatility of power. Before achieving lasting fame through his histories and essays, he had won distinction as a lawyer and as an orator, and had served with dignity and success as prætor and consul. He is spoken of as a graceful poet, and was believed also to have been the author of a clever volume of Facetiæ.

His History was published some time during the reign of Trajan, in some thirty books, of which less than five have been preserved. His second historical work was published a few years later, in sixteen books, under the title of Annals, and of this about nine books have been preserved. The frequent references to these two works and to the well known essay on the Germans, in the writings of the contemporaries and successors of Tacitus, show how important a position they occupied in the literature of the Empire, and show also that copies of them were distributed widely throughout the known world. We have unfortunately no details whatever concerning the method of their publication, and no references to the publishers to whose charge they were confided.

If Tacitus had only, like Martial, been an impecunious writer, we should probably have found in his correspondence with his friend Pliny, or in other of his writings, some mention of his publishing arrangements and of the receipts secured through the sale of his works. It is evident, however, that his official emoluments were sufficient to free him from any necessity of making close calculations concerning earnings by his pen, and it is even possible that he permitted the fortunate publishers, whoever they were to reserve to themselves the profits, which ought to have been considerable, arising from the sales of these important and popular works.

Notwithstanding the gradual decline of Athens towards the close of the second century as a centre of higher education, Greek continued to be throughout the Empire the language not only for many philosophical and scholarly undertakings, but for not a few works planned for popular reading. I mentioned that Massilia (Marseilles) had been selected as the place where the young Tacitus could secure to best advantage a refined education, but Massilia, although a thousand miles from Greece, was a Greek city. It is probably not too much to say that throughout the Roman world, wherever a town came into distinction in any way as a place of intellectual activity and of literary life, it would be found to have possessed a large Greek element. The Greek brains must have served as yeast for the intellectual substance of the Roman world.

Suetonius, writing, about 150 A.D., his work Ludicra, comprising treatises on the sports and public games of the Greeks and Romans, gave the work to the public in both Greek and Latin. The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, written about 170 were issued only in Greek. Simcox says: