Seneca - College of Stoic Philosophers
Seneca - College of Stoic Philosophers
Seneca - College of Stoic Philosophers
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
SENECA
THE CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORYOF ENGLAND since the Accession<strong>of</strong> George III. 1760-1860.By the Right Hon. Sir ThomasErskine May, K.C.B., D.C.L. (LordFarnborough). Edited and continuedto 191 1 by Francis Holland. 3 vols.8vo.Vols. I.-II., 1760-1 860.Vol. III., i860 -191 1. By FrancisHolland.LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.LONDON NEW YORK BOMBAYCALCUTTA AND MADRAS
SENECA.From the double bust <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> and Socrates inthe Berlin Museum.
SENECAFRANCISBYHOLLANDWITH FRONTISPIECELONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDONFOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORKBOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS1920All rights reserved
,^e.PRticava;lairis^^T\r\(pQ *
INTRODUCTORY NOTEletters,This essay in biography was originally intendedas an introduction to a translation <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'sthe greater part <strong>of</strong> which has been completed.But as this translation is not likely everto be published, I have decided, after long hesitation,to print the introduction by itself, on thechance that here or there some reader may befound to share my interest in the subject.Of the three branches into which philosophy,in the ancient view, divided itself— ethic, physic,and logic— it is with the two first alone that <strong>Seneca</strong>was concerned. He never lost touch with life andreality. To those who ' love to lose themselves ina mystery,' and rest in an O ''Altitudo ! <strong>Seneca</strong>as a philosopher makes no appeal. Rather wouldhe teach men how to find themselves and, so faras is possible to souls closed in by a ' vesture <strong>of</strong>decay,' to understand the meaning <strong>of</strong> life and <strong>of</strong>death. His meaning is never ambiguous. Howevershallow a pool may be, as has <strong>of</strong>ten beensaid, you cannot see to the bottom if the waterismuddy. Like the waters <strong>of</strong> the Lake <strong>of</strong> Garda,on the other hand, <strong>Seneca</strong>'s thoughts combineclearness with depth. He played too large a part
viINTRODUCTORY NOTEin a critical period <strong>of</strong> history and <strong>of</strong> thoughtto find time for the abstract speculations anddialectical subtleties with which the logicalbranch <strong>of</strong> philosophy was concerned, and inwhich the Greek masters <strong>of</strong> the <strong>Stoic</strong> schoolwere mainly interested; and no doubt it is thisesprit positifwhich so commended him to hisgreat debtor, Montaigne.I have added, 'to fill the page,' a paper onCaius Maecenas, which appeared long ago in theDublin Review. I have to thank the editor forthe permission to republish, which has not beenrefused.
CONTENTSCHAPTERIntroductory NotePAGEI. Marcus Ajsj^eus^Sen^xla^ ANii__iiis_.SQNS:r-The Controversiae — Helvia — TheBattle <strong>of</strong> the Books . . . , iII. Early Years and Education— Sotion,Attalus, Fabianus . . . .rs"III. The Principate <strong>of</strong> Caligula, a.d. 37-42.24IV. Exile in Corsica, a.d. 41-49 ... 32V. Return from Exile— Last Years <strong>of</strong>Claudius, a.d. 48-54 .... 46VI. The Quinquennium Neronis, a.d. 54-59.57VII. <strong>Seneca</strong> in Power 75VIII, The Tragedy <strong>of</strong> Baiae, a.d. 59 . . .86IX.Decline <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s Influence— Death <strong>of</strong>Burrhus and <strong>of</strong> Octavia ... 98X. <strong>Seneca</strong> in Retirement— His Friends andOccupationsviiFXI. Letter to Lucilius on Aetna— <strong>Seneca</strong>'sRiches and Apologia .... 136XII.The Conspiracy <strong>of</strong> Piso and the Death <strong>of</strong><strong>Seneca</strong> 150XIII. The Philosophy <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> . .164Caius Maecenas 187vu
FRONTISPIECE<strong>Seneca</strong>.— From the double bust <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> and Socrates inthe Berlin Museum.{From tJic Volume on Petronius in the Loeb Classical Library, William Heinemann)
SENECACHAPTER IMARCUS ANNAEUS SENECA AND HIS SONS— THECONTROVERSIAE— HELVIA — THE BATTLE OFTHE BOOKSA PLEASANT impression <strong>of</strong> the tranquil old age<strong>of</strong> Marcus Annaeus <strong>Seneca</strong>, the father <strong>of</strong> thephilosopher, under the principate <strong>of</strong> Tiberius,is given in the dedications to his three sons,Novatus, Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong>, and Mela,^ which are prefixedto his five books <strong>of</strong> Controversiae. TheseControversiae, which first came into fashion inthe time <strong>of</strong> Cicero,^ were imaginary cases arguedon one side and the other by the pr<strong>of</strong>essors inthe schools <strong>of</strong> rhetoric for the instruction <strong>of</strong> theirpupils, or by the pupils in the presence andunder the direction <strong>of</strong> their masters. They turnedon disputable questions <strong>of</strong> ethics or law— a1 'Docti <strong>Seneca</strong>e ter numeranda domus ' (Martial, iv. 40).'Dialog, de Orat. 35. Before the age <strong>of</strong> Cicero generalquestions were discussed in the schools as theses, in Cicero'stime these became causae, and were modelled on the actual casestried in the courts, and these in their turn were succeeded bythe controversiae, which came to hold, as the form through whicheloquence was taught, the chief place in the education <strong>of</strong> theyoung Roman (<strong>Seneca</strong>, Controv. i. Pref.).B
2 SENECAnon-existent rule <strong>of</strong> law being generally assumedfor the purpose <strong>of</strong> the pleadings — and the moredramatic and improbable the circumstancesimagined by the rhetoricians, the more crowdedwith pupils were their schools, and the greatertheir consequent renown.^In the great days <strong>of</strong> the republic, when thesovereign power at Rome was vested ultimatelyin the various assemblies <strong>of</strong> her citizens, the faculty<strong>of</strong> swaying these assemblies by eloquence wasalmost the one necessary qualification for asuccessful career, yet it was not till the generationimmediately preceding the establishment <strong>of</strong>the Empire that the art <strong>of</strong> rhetoric was taughtsystematically at Rome. Before that time ayouth who looked forward to a forensic careerwould be introduced by his father to one <strong>of</strong>the celebrated orators <strong>of</strong> the day, whose methodshe would study, whose pleadings he would neverfail to attend, and to whom he would render1Tyrants and pirates were favourite characters in thesedeclamations— tyrants who issue edicts ordering sons to executetheir fathers, pirates with lovely daughters who rescue and elopewith their father's prisoners. The art is to involve the actorson either side in a conflict between equally sacred obligations.In their beginnings, however, in the time recalled by the elder<strong>Seneca</strong>, the controversiae were less extravagant and more nearlyrelated to reality. Thus in a controversy declaimed before theEmperor Augustus with Agrippa and Maecenas in attendance,in which Marcus <strong>Seneca</strong>'s chief friend, Porcius Latro, was theprincipal interlocutor, the case supposed relates to a father <strong>of</strong>two sons, one <strong>of</strong> whom he had disinherited. The disinheritedson forms a connection with a woman who bears him a son.On his death-bed he sends the woman to his father, and commendsto him his son. The father adopts the boy. The otherson disputes this arrangement, and pleads that his father is not<strong>of</strong> sound mind or capable <strong>of</strong> making such a disposition. Thecase is argued between them.
MARCUS ANNAEUS SENECA 3what assistance he could.^ When rhetoric wasfirst studied in Rome as an art, and for thetraining just described was substituted that <strong>of</strong>the schools, the causae there discussed weremade to resemble as closely as possible the cases<strong>of</strong> the forum— the one bearing to the other thesame sort <strong>of</strong> relation that the proceedings inpolitical debatingsocieties bear to the debatesin the House <strong>of</strong> Commons. But after the fall<strong>of</strong> the republic, when the orators who hadnumbered kings and nations among their clients,or had impeached proconsuls for the oppression<strong>of</strong> provinces, were succeeded by the delatores, whoearned fame, indeed, and vast sums <strong>of</strong> money,but also the detestation <strong>of</strong> all honest men bybringing accusations against great senators whomthe emperors wished to destroy,^ the rhetoricalexercises <strong>of</strong> the schools became ever more andmore remote from reality. The object <strong>of</strong> teachersand pupils alike was not to bring convictionto the minds <strong>of</strong> their hearers, but to win applausefor their own cleverness. Rhetoric ceasedto have an object outside itself— it became anart for art's sake. The triumph <strong>of</strong> the controversialistsin these fantastic contests was the1The next step for an ambitious youth was the impeachment<strong>of</strong> some great State <strong>of</strong>fender. Thus Juhus Caesar in his twentyfirstyear impeached Dolabella, and Asinius PolHo at about thesame age became famous by his prosecution <strong>of</strong> Cato.* The State having become, as it were, personified in theemperor, the prosecution <strong>of</strong> the victims <strong>of</strong> imperial tyrannyappeared to the prosecutors to be <strong>of</strong> the same nature as thefamous impeachments <strong>of</strong> republican times, and an orator suchas Memmius Regulus, while serving as the instrument <strong>of</strong> aDomitian's cruelty, would regard himself as a Cicero accusingVerres.
4 SENECAinvention <strong>of</strong> the effective aphorisms, antitheses,or epigrams called sententiae, which were applaudedfor their pithiness or ingenuity, andeasily retained in the *memory. Knowledge isthe foundation <strong>of</strong> eloquence '—' rem tene, verbasequentur/ wrote the elder Cato in the earliestRoman treatise on oratory. The rhetoricians<strong>of</strong> the schools seemed to reverse this maxim,and to believe — eloquence to be the foundation <strong>of</strong>knowledge so all-important a place did rhetorichold in the later Roman scheme <strong>of</strong> education,and so remote from the real business <strong>of</strong> lifeand <strong>of</strong> the forum had their rhetorical exercisesbecome. No one, as Tacitus wrote, in republicantimes attained great power without the aid<strong>of</strong> eloquence. Consequently,the attainment <strong>of</strong>linguistic mastery <strong>of</strong> expression was the chiefaim <strong>of</strong> education, and so continued to be after theestablishment <strong>of</strong> the Empire. In the grammaticalcourse, which preceded that <strong>of</strong> rhetoric, boys weretrained through the medium <strong>of</strong> classical poetry.Marcus Annaeus <strong>Seneca</strong> is himself generallydescribed in modern books as a rhetorician ;but although he was intimate with the greatestmasters <strong>of</strong> the art, attended their lectures anddeclamations with assiduity, and treasured theirthere is no directsententiae in his memory,evidence that he himself ever taught in theschools. He came to Rome from his nativeCorduba in Spain as soon as the close <strong>of</strong> thecivil wars allowed him to leave that colony,afterwards regretting that he had not beenable to come sooner, since then he might have
MARCUS ANNAEUS SENECA 5heard the living voice <strong>of</strong> Cicero— an epithetcommonly used, he adds, but to the voice <strong>of</strong>Cicero really applicable.*His collection <strong>of</strong> Controversiae was made atthe request <strong>of</strong> his sons who, anxious to knowsomething <strong>of</strong> the character and style <strong>of</strong> thefamous rhetors <strong>of</strong> the preceding generation,begged their father to tell them all he couldremember on the subject. His memory hadbeen famous in the days <strong>of</strong> his youth; and wecannot wonder that it was esteemed a prodigyif we may believe his assurance that he wasthen able to repeat without an error two thousandnames in the right order after a single hearing.But in his old age, he adds, it had becomecapricious he could no longer count on its ready;and immediate obedience to his will, but wasobliged to wait its pleasure. For the events <strong>of</strong>his youth it was as strong as ever, but it couldnot retain what was in later yearsentrusted t<strong>of</strong>illed toits keeping just as in a vessel already ;which more water is added what is on the surfaceoverflows and is lost, but what is below remains.He applauds the desire <strong>of</strong> his sons to learn1 Cicero, after Julius Caesar's final victories had silenced hislessons in declama-voice in the forum, amused himself by givingtion to Hirtius and Dolabella— two <strong>of</strong> the most distinguished <strong>of</strong>Caesar's <strong>of</strong>ficers— on their return from the war. These greatgrandes praetextatos ' he calls them— were at—pupils <strong>of</strong> his 'that time compensating themselves for the fatigues <strong>of</strong> theircampaigns by a life <strong>of</strong> pleasure at Rome. ' They were mymasters,' said Cicero, 'in the art <strong>of</strong> dining, as I was theirs in theart <strong>of</strong> speaking ' (Cicero, Ep. ix. i6 ;Suet, de clans Rhet.). Thiswas in the year 46 B.C. If Marcus <strong>Seneca</strong> was fifteen or sixteenyears <strong>of</strong> age at the time, he would have been born about the year61 B.C. (Sen. Controv. i. Pref.).
6 SENECAsomething <strong>of</strong> the eloquence <strong>of</strong> the past generation— in the first place, because the more numerousand various the models before them the less arethey likely to become mere imitators ; and, inthe second place, because the age is degenerate,and because the art <strong>of</strong> rhetoric having reachedits height about the time <strong>of</strong> Cicero had, accordingto the universal law <strong>of</strong> change, been decliningever since. In the days <strong>of</strong> freedom, sohe continues, rhetorical exercises had a seriousobject, since by eloquence a man might reachthe highest <strong>of</strong>fices <strong>of</strong> the State ; but, since theoverthrow <strong>of</strong> the republic, this spur to efforthad largely been withdrawn. He had heard allthe great orators except Cicero, and the task<strong>of</strong> satisfying the praiseworthy curiosity <strong>of</strong> hissons by returningas it were to school in his oldage, and bringing to light out <strong>of</strong> the caverns <strong>of</strong>his memory all that they contained <strong>of</strong> the declamationsmade in the schools by the celebratedrhetoricians <strong>of</strong> the past, would be to him a delightfullabour. The publication <strong>of</strong> their wittysayings and ingenious subtleties would also incidentallyhave the useful effect <strong>of</strong> checking theunacknowledged plagiarisms <strong>of</strong> their degeneratesuccessors.The elder <strong>Seneca</strong> was a Roman <strong>of</strong> the oldschool, <strong>of</strong> equestrian rank, a lover <strong>of</strong> the past—orderly, austere, and methodical. His wife, Helvia ,belonged to an influential provincial family,in which a severe simplicity was a tradition.^* 'Helv. xvi.).Bene in antiqua et severa institutam domo ' {Cons, ad
MARCUS ANNAEUS SENECA 7Like most mothers <strong>of</strong> distinguished men shewas, if we may accept the description left<strong>of</strong> her by her son the philosopher, a woman<strong>of</strong> remarkable character and intelligence. Herhusband, to whom any departure from oldRoman customs and ideas was distasteful,^ wasopposed to what we now call the higher education<strong>of</strong> women, and would not suffer her to devotemuch time to study, a circumstance regrettedby her son, in whose judgment there were fewon whom such opportunities would have beenless likely to be wasted, or who in the little timeactually allowed could have acquired so much.He tells us that his mother took deep interestin his philosophical studies, while her delightin his society was inexhaustible ; and, on theother hand, that the very sight <strong>of</strong> her alwaysfilled him with an almost boyish gaiety andgladness. After her widowhood, which succeededwithin thirty days the death <strong>of</strong> the kindest <strong>of</strong>brothers, she administered with the utmost careand disinterestedness the inheritance <strong>of</strong> her threesons ; refusing all personal advantage from it asif it had been another's, and giving as much careto itsmanagement as if it had been her own.In the same way the course <strong>of</strong> honours whichtwo <strong>of</strong> her sons successfully pursued, and thefortunes they acquired, though giving her pleasurefor their sake, were a source not <strong>of</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>it to— herself, but <strong>of</strong> additional expense so muchbetter did she deem it to give than to receive.Novatus, the eldest <strong>of</strong> the three sons <strong>of</strong> Marcus^''Nimis majorum consuetudini deditus {Cons, ad Helv. xvi.).
8 SENECA<strong>Seneca</strong> and Helvia, was adopted by his father'sfriend, Junius GalUo the rhetorician, by whosename he became known. He entered early onan <strong>of</strong>ficial career, passing through all the <strong>of</strong>ficialdignities till he became consul suffedus, afterwhich he became Proconsul <strong>of</strong> Achaia in the year52, where the accident <strong>of</strong> a riot, resulting in theappearance <strong>of</strong> Paul <strong>of</strong> Tarsus before his tribunal,immortalised a name which all the praises <strong>of</strong>his brother <strong>Seneca</strong>, who describes him as themost irresistibly charming man <strong>of</strong> his age, couldnot have rescued from oblivion.^ If we maytrust his brother's description, he was indeeda man made to be loved. 'No one man,' writesthe younger <strong>Seneca</strong>, with his usual rhetoricalexaggeration, ' is so agreeable to another as Gallicnemo enim mortaliumto all who know him '—'1 The identity <strong>of</strong> the Gallio <strong>of</strong> the Acts with GalHo the brother<strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> is made practically certain by an incidental referenceto his brother in Achaia in one <strong>of</strong> the philosopher's letters to'Lucilius : Illud mihi in ore erat domini met Gallionis, qui cumin Achaia febrem habere caepisset, protinus navem adscendit, clamitansnon corporis esse, sed loci morbum' {Ep. civ.). Achaia, whichcomprised all the Peloponnesus and the greater part <strong>of</strong> Hellasproper with the islands, had been an imperial province underTiberius and Caligula, but was transferred to the Senate byClaudius in a.d. 44 (Tac. Ann. i.76; Suet. Claudius, 25). Thedate <strong>of</strong> Gallio's proconsulship (52) has been ascertained by thediscovery <strong>of</strong> an inscription at Delphi containing four fragments<strong>of</strong> a letter <strong>of</strong> Claudius to the city. Pliny alludes to a voyagemade by Gallio for the sake <strong>of</strong> his health, which may be thesame as that spoken <strong>of</strong> by <strong>Seneca</strong> 'Praeterea est alius usus multiplex,principalis vera navigandi phthisi a^ectis, ut diximus, aut san-:guinem egerentibus : sicut proxime Anneum Gallionem fecisse postConsulatum meminimus' (Plin. N.H. xxxi. 6). <strong>Seneca</strong> had beenrecalled from exile in 49, and his brother Gallio must have beenconsul suffectus in 50 or 51. It was the custom <strong>of</strong> the emperorsat that time to nominate consuls for short periods, though theyear was named only after those first appointed.
MARCUS ANNAEUS SENECA 9uni tarn dulcis estquam hie omnibus.' ^ ' Hisand unstudied charm <strong>of</strong> manner wincourtesyevery heart, yet so modest is he that not onlydoes he shrink from the very approaches <strong>of</strong>flattery, but listens with equal reluctance to thepraises which his numerous excellences havereally deserved.' ^The youngest brother Mela, to whom the'second book <strong>of</strong> Controversies ' is exclusivelyaddressed, though described by his father asmentally the best endowed <strong>of</strong> the three, madean early resolution to content himself with hishereditary rank and, leaving the career <strong>of</strong> honoursto his two accomplished brothers, to devotehimself to a life <strong>of</strong> studious retirement. Hisfather, though he did not conceal his own preferencefor an active career, acquiesced withoutmuch difficulty in this decision, declaring thathe was ready, when his two elder sons had putout to sea, to keep the third in harbour. ThatMela was his favourite son, and that this lack<strong>of</strong> ambition was a disappointment to one soenamoured <strong>of</strong> traditionary ways as the elder<strong>Seneca</strong>, will seem probable to the reader <strong>of</strong> thededication addressed to him; nor would he havebeen greatly consoled had he been able to foreseethat this contempt for the ancient Statedignities would not prevent his son from accumulatinga large fortune as procurator <strong>of</strong> the imperialdemesne under the principate <strong>of</strong> Nero.1'Cf .Statius, Sylv. ii. 7 Hoc : plusmundo, Aut dulcem generasse Gallionem.'2Nat. Quaest. iv. Praef.quam<strong>Seneca</strong>m dedisse
10 SENECAThe <strong>Seneca</strong>s appear to have been a mostunited family. But whereas the father heldthe view common to old men in every age thatthe era <strong>of</strong> great men was over, and that inthe new generation there was an unexampleddearth <strong>of</strong> talent and ability in every kind, thesons were believers in progress, with scantrespect for authority, tradition, or nationalfeeling.The reminiscences <strong>of</strong> the Controversiae inwhich the father endeavours to convince hissons by description and quotation <strong>of</strong> thesuperiority <strong>of</strong> the past generation, were theoutcome <strong>of</strong> this difference <strong>of</strong> view. In thepreface <strong>of</strong> the last book he declares that theyshall trouble him no longer. He owns he isweary <strong>of</strong> the subject. At first he thoughtitwould be pleasant to summon up remembrance<strong>of</strong> things past and recall the best years <strong>of</strong> hislife under the mild Augustus, but he now feelshalf ashamed, as if he attached too much importanceto such studies. These exercises <strong>of</strong> ingenuity,he says, are well enough if taken lightly : takethem too seriously and they disgust. He couldnot admire the modern rhetorician Musa, whomhis sons had insisted on his accompanying themto hear. He thinks his style turgid and unnatural,declares the man has no sincerity, and,in spite <strong>of</strong> Mela's frowning disapproval '— —'licetMela mens confrahat frontem gives instances<strong>of</strong> what he means from the declamation he hadheard. Clearly between father and sons, inspite <strong>of</strong> high mutual affection and respect, no
MARCUS ANNAEUS SENECAiiagreement on these points was reached orpossible.The positions <strong>of</strong> the various controversialistsin the 'battle <strong>of</strong> the books,' fought in the secondhalf <strong>of</strong> the first century between the upholders<strong>of</strong> the classical tradition in writing and speakingand the new school, between ancient and modernideas and standards, are admirably given in thedialogue De Oratorihus, generally ascribed toTacitus. The dialogueis for all time a model <strong>of</strong>urbane controversy, in which the most completedifference <strong>of</strong> opinion is effectively expressed withouta trace <strong>of</strong> acerbity or sarcasm. The views<strong>of</strong> the author are probably represented by thegentle Maternus, who, after Afer and Messalahave pleaded the cause <strong>of</strong> the moderns and <strong>of</strong>the ancients respectively, takes a middle course.He admits with Messala the fact <strong>of</strong> the decay <strong>of</strong>eloquence, but argues that this is the result <strong>of</strong>the change in the character <strong>of</strong> the times and inthe nature <strong>of</strong> the government rather than <strong>of</strong> anydecline in the abilities <strong>of</strong> men. Augustus, indeed,together with everything else, had pacifiedeloquence which could only flourish in turbulenttimes ;but he suggests that eloquence was not<strong>of</strong> such importance that it was desirable thatthe times should be turbulent in order that itmight flourish. He might have added that goodart being the true representation <strong>of</strong> emotion,passion, or thought, which the artist has himselfexperienced either actually or through sympathy,it must change with the changinglife <strong>of</strong> theday and cannot be limited by old conventions.
12 SENECAOriginal minds may not force their ideas into anancient mould on pain <strong>of</strong> illustrating the couplet<strong>of</strong> Boileau :'Voulant se redresser soi-meme on s'estropie,Et d'un original devient une copie.'When, however, we compare the graceful, easyflowingstyle <strong>of</strong> Livy, Cicero, and Virgil, theiravoidance <strong>of</strong> over-emphasis or abrupt transitions,the rise and fall <strong>of</strong> their periods, andthe even texture <strong>of</strong> their narrative, comparableto a good mountain road, which is neverirksome to a traveller whatever the height towhich it rises— when we compare this with thebold realism, the disregard for convention andtradition, the cosmopolitanism, and the strikingbut <strong>of</strong>ten isolated thoughts and aphorisms <strong>of</strong>Lucan and Tacitus and Juvenal, we can understandthe extreme dislike which such admirers<strong>of</strong> antiquity in later generations as Quintilianor Aulus Gellius or Pronto felt for the younger<strong>Seneca</strong>, whom they rightly regarded as thechief author <strong>of</strong> this revolution in taste. Thetransition resembles, both in its nature and inthe circumstance <strong>of</strong> the intervening revolution,that from the French encyclopaedists <strong>of</strong> theeighteenth century toChateaubriand and VictorHugo — a transition deplored by Sainte-Beuve,who might be called the Quintilian <strong>of</strong> the nineteenthcentury.
CHAPTER IIEARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION— SOTION,ATTALUS, FABIANUSLucius Annaeus <strong>Seneca</strong>, the second son <strong>of</strong>Marcus <strong>Seneca</strong> and Helvia, was born at Cordubaabout the commencement <strong>of</strong> the Christian era.^He was living at Rome, as we have seen, withhis parents and brothers in the days <strong>of</strong> Tiberius,and while still a boy was seized with a passionfor those philosophical studies which were tobe the chief interest <strong>of</strong> his life and his best titleto fame. His earliest master in philosophy wasSotion, a native <strong>of</strong> Alexandria, under whoseinfluence he ' thought nobly ' for a time <strong>of</strong> thedoctrines <strong>of</strong> Pythagoras.Sotion showed us [he afterwards wrote in a letter to'Lucilius ^]the reasons <strong>of</strong> Pythagoras and afterwards <strong>of</strong>Sextius — for abstaining from meat reasons differing from1 'Quae Tritonide fertiles AthenasUnctis, Baetica, provocas trapetis,Lucanum potes imputare terris.Hoc plus quam <strong>Seneca</strong>m dedisse mundo,Aut dulcem generasse Gallionem.'*Ep. cviii.(Statius, Sylv. ii. 7.)
14 SENECAone another yet in each case <strong>of</strong> a high nature. Sextiusmaintained that man could find food enough in theworld without shedding blood, and that the association<strong>of</strong> the satisfaction <strong>of</strong> his appetites with the slaughter<strong>of</strong> beasts was a cause <strong>of</strong> cruelty. He thought, too, thatit was wise to circumscribe as much as possible the rawmaterial <strong>of</strong> luxury, and, moreover, that a vegetariandiet was best for the health. But Pythagoras beUevedin the common nature and the inter-communion <strong>of</strong> allthings. Nothing, he thought, that has Ufe can perish;but all things must suffer change and pass in neverendingsuccession from one form into another. Wecannot tell after how many vicissitudes and how manydwelling-places a soul will return into the form <strong>of</strong> man,but we run the risk <strong>of</strong> committing murder or even parricidewhen we slay or devour an animal in which somesoul we have known in human shape may be abiding.When Sotion had expounded to us these doctrines <strong>of</strong>Pythagoras, he would ask us whether we believed thatlives passed from one body to another, that what wecalled death was but transmigration, that the souls <strong>of</strong>men might inhabit flocks or wild beasts or fishes, thatnothing perished in the universe but only changed itsplace, and that men and animals no less than the heavenlybodies go their appointed rounds and know the same''vicissitudes ? Great men,' he would add, have believedthese things, but I do not wish to fetter your judgmentconcerning them. Yet if they be true you are right toabstain from meat, and if false what harm can you sufferfrom such abstention ? It is at least a useful economy,'Moved by these considerations I eat no meat for awhole year, and after a very short time found thisregimen not only easy but agreeable. My mindseemed lighter and more agile— to this day I cannotaffirm with certainty whether it really was so or not.You will wonder whyI abandoned this diet. I willexplain to you why. My youth was passed under theprincipate <strong>of</strong> Tiberius, at a time when foreign rites
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 15were prohibited in Rome.^ Abstention from the flesh<strong>of</strong> certain animals was held to be evidence <strong>of</strong> an inchnationtowards the Jewish superstition, and thereforeat the request <strong>of</strong> my father, who was no enemyto philosophy but feared a scandal, I returned to myformer habits, and he found no difficulty in persuadingme to eat better dinners.^From Sotion the Pythagorean, the young<strong>Seneca</strong> passed to the lecture-room <strong>of</strong> Attainsthe <strong>Stoic</strong>, whose influence upon his life andideas was <strong>of</strong> a more decisive character. Attainsfar theis described by the elder <strong>Seneca</strong> as byacutest and most eloquent philosopher <strong>of</strong> histime—*magnae vir eloquentiae, ex philosophis,quos nostra aetas vidit, longeet subtilissimus etfacundissimus.' ^ We know nothing <strong>of</strong> his life,except that, having been cheated <strong>of</strong> his propertyby Sejanus, he consoled himself as a philosophershould by following the plough but we know;something <strong>of</strong> his mind by the many references tohim and quotations from his sayings to be foundin the works <strong>of</strong> his admiring pupil,1This edict was issued in the year 19:'Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong>.Actum et de sacrisaegyptiis judaicisque pellendis factumque patrum consultum,:" ut quatuor millia Hbertini generis, ea superstitione infecta,quis idonea aetas, in insulam Sardinian! veherentur . . . cetericederent Italia, nisi certam ante diem pr<strong>of</strong>anos ritus exuissent " '(Tac. Ann. ii. 85).2Ep. cviii. The old reading was : Patre itaque me rogante,'qui non calumniam timebat, sed phUosophiam oderat, adpristinam consuetudinem redii,' but it is probable that thesuggested emendation <strong>of</strong> Lipsius is correct, since we may inferfrom the decorous conservatism manifest in the writings <strong>of</strong> theelder <strong>Seneca</strong> that he was unlikely to be indifferent to scandal,and from '— 'his words to Mela— non sum bonae mentis impedimentumthat his attitude to philosophy was at least tolerant.^ Suas. ii.
i6SENECAThe young enthusiast besieged, so he tells us, thedoor <strong>of</strong> Attains' classroom ;he was always thefirst to enter when it was opened, and the lastto leave. Nor was this all. Attains was aman <strong>of</strong> easy access, most friendly disposedtowards his pupils, whose ingenuous advanceshe was ever ready to meet more than half-way.The young <strong>Seneca</strong> would walk with him anddraw him into discussion on subjects <strong>of</strong> perennialinterest. It was Attalus, he tells us, who taughthim to distinguish between reality and appearances,between the eloquence <strong>of</strong> truth and that<strong>of</strong> display, between intrinsic beauty and the emptysound <strong>of</strong> swelling words. He would pour contemptalike on luxury and on avarice ;he wouldextol a chaste body, a sober table, a mind purifiednot only from unlawful but even from superfluouspleasures. He told his pupils that those whocame to a philosopher's lectures merely as anagreeable way <strong>of</strong> passing the time, to hear andnot to learn, to listen to eloquent phrases andingenious conceits, without any intention <strong>of</strong>shaping anew the conduct <strong>of</strong> their life, wouldderive no pr<strong>of</strong>it from philosophy.However transitory [<strong>Seneca</strong> afterwards wrote] mightbe on many the effect <strong>of</strong> such exhortations, yet theminds <strong>of</strong> the young being tender and impressionable,if the master is sincere and solely occupied with thegood <strong>of</strong> his pupils his words will have lasting effects.At all events [he adds] this was true in my case. Myadmiration for him was boundless, and when I heardhim speak <strong>of</strong> the faults, the errors, and the evils <strong>of</strong> life,I <strong>of</strong>ten was moved with compassion for mankind, andhe seemed to me more than human.
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 17Under the influence <strong>of</strong> this teaching <strong>Seneca</strong>for a time lived a life <strong>of</strong> asceticism accordingto the strictest rule <strong>of</strong> the <strong>Stoic</strong>s and, though itwas not long before he reverted to a more ordinaryway <strong>of</strong> life, there were some habits then contractedand some abstinences then resolved upon whichhe never abandoned. In the letter already quoted,written to Lucilius near the end <strong>of</strong> his life, afterdescribing the teaching <strong>of</strong> Attains and his ownyouthful enthusiasm, he adds :Something <strong>of</strong> all this remained with me, Lucilius.After the great original impulse had spent its force, Ipersevered in some fragments <strong>of</strong> that high enterprise.Thus I have abstained throughout mylife from suchdelicacies as oysters and mushrooms. They are not food,but condiments, meant to stimulate a jaded appetite,and the delight <strong>of</strong> the gluttonous because they are easilyswallowed and easily vomited. So, too, from that timeonward I have never used ointment, believing that thebest odour for the body is the absence <strong>of</strong> odour ;nevertouched wine ;and always avoided hot-air baths. Toboil down the body and exhaust itby sweating alwaysseemed to me a luxurious superfluity. From otherrenunciations I desisted ;but I returned to what I hadabandoned with a moderation that came much nearerto abstinence than self-indulgence— a moderation perhapseven more difficult in practice than total abstention,for certainly it is <strong>of</strong>ten easier to abandon a habitaltogether than to keep it within modest bounds.^Another <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s habits, dating probablyfrom this time, which ought to win him somesympathy from Englishmen, was the daily cold1Ep. 108.
i8SENECAbath all the year round, for which, as in one <strong>of</strong>his letters he tells us, he became known :I, that famous cold-bather (Psychrolutes), who, onthe first <strong>of</strong> January, used to disport myself in themoat ;who used to celebrate the coming <strong>of</strong> the new yearby leaping into the water brought down from the hills,j ust as others would celebrate it by some auspicious wordsspoken read or written, first transferred my camp tothe Tiber, and lastly to this tub <strong>of</strong> mine which, whenI am feeling my strongest and acting in perfect goodfaith -with myself, is heated only by the sun.^was everAnother master, whose memoryhonoured by <strong>Seneca</strong>, and by whom at this timehe was instructed, was the learned author PapiriusFabianus, an old friend <strong>of</strong> his father. Fabianushad acquired an early reputation as a rhetorician,—having studied rhetoric under Blandus the firstman <strong>of</strong> equestrian rank to teach that art in Rome.^The elder <strong>Seneca</strong> describes his style in declamationas easy fluent and rapid, but lacking invigour and incisiveness. He had succeeded sowell, he tells us, in banishing such passions asanger or grief from his own breast that he hadlost the power <strong>of</strong> representing them and this in a;rhetorician was a defect. But his critic had notlong the opportunity <strong>of</strong> hearing him, for Fabianussoon transferred his allegiance from rhetoric tophilosophy and natural science, and it was as a1Ep. 83.*Until that time the teaching <strong>of</strong> rhetoric had been confinedto freedmen. The elder <strong>Seneca</strong>, in stating this, expresses hiswonder that it should at any time have been considered dis-universal admission it was honourablehonouring to teach what byto learn.
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 19philosopher that he contributed to the education<strong>of</strong> the younger <strong>Seneca</strong>.^Fabianus was a copious author. His works arefrequently cited by Pliny in the Natural History,and Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong> says <strong>of</strong> his philosophicalwritings that they were surpassed only by those<strong>of</strong> Cicero, Pollio, and Livy. He wrote in a levelstyleand with a certain carelessness <strong>of</strong> dictionthat seemed to prove him more occupied withhis matter than his manner. 'Too much attentionto style,' replied <strong>Seneca</strong> to his correspondentLucilius who had read on his recommendation abook <strong>of</strong> Fabianus and been much disappointed,'does not become a philosopher who should bethinking <strong>of</strong> more important matters. How cana man defy fortune if he is nervous about words ?Had you heard him, as I did, your admirationfor the whole would have leftyou no leisure tocriticise the parts. What though the calm progress<strong>of</strong> his discourse was interspersed by no sudden andstriking reflections {" suhiti ictus sententiarum"),the very evenness <strong>of</strong> its flow had a charm <strong>of</strong> its own.There was nothing laboured about his eloquence ;itaccompanied him like a shadow without anyeffort on his part. You could see that he feltwas towhat he said or wrote ;that his objectshow you what he admired and not to excite youradmiration for himself. He was not slovenly1Even after he had formally abandoned rhetoric forphilosophy he continued to study eloquence as a means, thoughno longer as an end— his example in this respect being held upfor imitation by Marcus <strong>Seneca</strong> to his son Mela whom heendeavoured to convince <strong>of</strong> the importance <strong>of</strong> eloquence whateverway <strong>of</strong> life he might see fit to adopt.
20 SENECAin his use <strong>of</strong> words, but unconcerned ;his soleinterest was the pr<strong>of</strong>it <strong>of</strong> his hearers/ <strong>Seneca</strong>ends his description by adding that Fabianus'lectures were admirably calculated to elevate themind <strong>of</strong> a well-disposed youth and to spur himon to imitate so excellent an example, withoutcausing him to despair <strong>of</strong> success.^Such were the instructors <strong>of</strong> the young <strong>Seneca</strong>under the principate <strong>of</strong> Tiberius. His healththroughout life was delicate. While still younghe was brought to great misery by an affection<strong>of</strong> the lungs, which he calls suspirium.^Wasted to a shadow [he afterwards wrote], I was<strong>of</strong>ten tempted to cut short my life, but the old age <strong>of</strong>the kindest <strong>of</strong> fathers still held me back. I reflectedthat I ought to consider not so much with what fortitudeI could die, but how impossibleit was that he couldbear my loss with fortitude. Therefore I bade myselflive ;for there are times when it is a mark <strong>of</strong> courage evento live. I will tellyou what were then my consolations,observing first that these were also the most useful <strong>of</strong> medicines,for certain it is that whatever elevates the soul doesgood to the body. My studies saved me. It was toPhilosophy that I owed the power to rise from my bedand the recovery <strong>of</strong> my health — and this is the least<strong>of</strong> my obligations to her. My friends watched with me :their encouragements and their conversation contributedmuch to my restoration. There is nothing, my dearestLucilius, like the affection <strong>of</strong> friends to assist and renewa sick man ; nothing that so certainly beguiles us fromthe expectation and the fear <strong>of</strong> death. ^1Ep. loo.^'Satis enim apte dici suspirium potest.Brevis autem valde,et procellae similis, impetus est intra horam fere desinit' {Ep. :liv.),»Ep. 78.
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 21Through several <strong>of</strong> his illnesses, and probablythrough this one, <strong>Seneca</strong> was nursed byaunt— hisa half-sister <strong>of</strong> Helvia and the widow <strong>of</strong>Vetrasius Pollio, for sixteen years governor <strong>of</strong>^Egypt under Tiberius. It was she who hadbrought him as a child from Spain to Rome;and he regarded her with especial admirationand respect. He relates in her honour anincident <strong>of</strong> which he was himself a witness.Her husband died at sea ;there was a storm ;the ship's tackle was destroyed and the ship ingreat danger the only thought <strong>of</strong> the widow;was for her husband's body from which nodanger could separate her and which shesucceeded in saving. At a later date, thoughnaturally modest and retiring with a dislike <strong>of</strong>publicity <strong>of</strong> any kind that stood out in strongcontrast to the general tone <strong>of</strong> the fashionablewomen <strong>of</strong> her time, she exerted all her influenceto obtain for her nephew the quaestorship andbecame, as he wrote to his mother, ambitiousfor his sake.^Towards the end <strong>of</strong> the principate <strong>of</strong> Tiberius,Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong>, at the desire <strong>of</strong> his father,abandoned for a time the schools <strong>of</strong> philosophyand practised with success at the Bar, Thiswas the usual beginning for those who wereambitious to succeed in an <strong>of</strong>ficial career and toraise themselves through the various ascending1 It was the custom <strong>of</strong> Tiberius to continue in their civiland military governments and <strong>of</strong>fices for long periods <strong>of</strong> years,and sometimes for life, those whom he thought worthy <strong>of</strong> hisconfidence.*Consol. ad Helviam,
22 SENECAmagistracies to senatorial rank and the government<strong>of</strong> provinces.Your brothers [the elder <strong>Seneca</strong> wrote to Mela] areambitious ;and are preparing themselves for a careerin the forum and in <strong>of</strong>fice in which even success has itsdangers. Time was when I myself longed for andapplauded such a career ; and, dangerous though it be,I have urged your brothers to pursue it, so far at leastas they can do so within the strictest limits <strong>of</strong> honour.^That the temptations to overstepthese limitsin the closing years <strong>of</strong> Tiberius were numerousmay be inferred from the short description leftus by <strong>Seneca</strong> <strong>of</strong> the time — a description by adisinterested eye-witness with no anti-imperialprejudices which the defenders <strong>of</strong> that emperorfind it more difficult to explain away than theinvectives <strong>of</strong> later writers.Under Tiberius [he wrote] there grew up a frenziedpassion for bringing accusations which increased till itbecame almost universal and proved more destructiveto citizens than any civil war. Words spoken by menwhen drunk and the most harmless pleasantries weredenounced. There was safety nowhere ; any pretextwas good enough to serve for an information. Nor,after a time, did the accused think it worth while toawait the result <strong>of</strong> their trials, for this was always thesame.^There had never been a public prosecutorin Rome it had been <strong>of</strong> old the ;duty <strong>of</strong> citizensto keep watch over one another in the interests<strong>of</strong> the republic ;and for the republic was after-*'^De<strong>Seneca</strong>, Controv. ii.Benef. iii. i6.Praef.
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 23wards substituted the emperor. To bring acharge under the law <strong>of</strong> majestas, in the presumedinterest <strong>of</strong> the emperor, had become the quickestroad to forensic distinction and a fortune. It isto the credit <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> that, unhke SiHus Italicusand many others, he remembered his father'sproviso with regard to honour and was innocent<strong>of</strong> this kind <strong>of</strong> impeachment.
CHAPTER IIITHE PRINCIPATE OF CALIGULA, A.D. 37-42We know little <strong>of</strong> the life <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> during theclosing years <strong>of</strong> Tiberius and the principate <strong>of</strong>Caligula. Tiberius died in 37, and the elder<strong>Seneca</strong> at a great age some years earlier, probablyin Spain, as his three sons were absentfrom his death-bed ^ and we know that hiswidow administered with care and sagacity theirrich inheritance. Writing in the first year <strong>of</strong>Claudius, the younger <strong>Seneca</strong> speaks <strong>of</strong> themoney reputation and honours lavishly bestowedon him by fortune <strong>of</strong> which exile had deprivedhim and <strong>of</strong> the public honours earned bythe industry <strong>of</strong> his brother Gallio. For thesedistinctions the philosophical Mela had scornedto compete ; but he too isspoken <strong>of</strong> as wealthy. ^<strong>Seneca</strong> was married and the father <strong>of</strong> a boy,whom he thus described to his mother :1 ' Carissimum virum, ex quo mater trium libeforura eras,extulisti, Lugenti tibi luctus nuntiatus est, omnibus quidemabsentibus liberis ; quasi de industria in id tempusconjectis malistuis ut nihil esset ubi se dolor tuus reclinaret ' {Consol. ad Helv. ii.).Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong> wrote a biography <strong>of</strong> his father with the titleDe Vita Patris. Of this only the fragment <strong>of</strong> a sentence remains.»His son Lucan was born in the year 39 at Corduba andbrought to Rome in 40 when seven months old. The author <strong>of</strong>the ancient life <strong>of</strong> Lucan who tells us this says also that Melawas known at Rome through his brother <strong>Seneca</strong>, 'a man famousfor every virtue,' and through his love <strong>of</strong> a quiet life (' propterstudium vitae guietioris ').
THE PRINCIPATE OF CALIGULA 25Marcus, the most winning <strong>of</strong> children, in whosepresence sadness cannot endure. What breast so heavyladenthat his embrace cannot lighten ? What woundso fresh that his kisses cannot soothe ? What tearscan resist his gaiety ? What mind so oppressed bycare that his nonsense cannot relax ? Who can helplaughing at his pranks ? What brooding meditation soconcentrated and absorbed that his deHghtful chattercannot interrupt and turn the brooder himself intoa fellow-chatterbox ? I pray the gods that he maysurvive me.-^Gallic, too, had married and was a widower.Kis daughter Novatilla was regarded by <strong>Seneca</strong>almost as a child <strong>of</strong> his own and lived as muchwith him as with his brother.No work <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> published before thedeath <strong>of</strong> Caligula has come down to us, butthat his publications before that date werenumerous and successful we know from a reference<strong>of</strong> Suetonius, who speaks <strong>of</strong> him as thenat the height <strong>of</strong> his turn maximepopularity—'placentem.' His earlier books must have containedthe bulk <strong>of</strong> the poetry dialogues andspeeches mentioned by Quintilian.^ Connectedwith the <strong>of</strong>ficial class through his mother'sfamily, witty, accomplished, original, and <strong>of</strong>gentle and conciliating manners, he appealedto the new generation by his daring innovationsin manner and disregard for old conventions, bythe freedom <strong>of</strong> his criticisms <strong>of</strong> the great oratorsand poets <strong>of</strong> the past, and by the singularpower in which he was afterwards only excelledby Tacitus, <strong>of</strong> enshrining striking thoughts* Cons, ad Helv. xvi.^Inst. Oral. x. i.
26 SENECAin short sentences that fixed themselves in thememory by their precision and completeness.Caligula who, vain about everything, wasespecially vain <strong>of</strong> his oratorical powers, affectedto despise the style <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> which he describedin an <strong>of</strong>t-quoted phrase as 'sand without lime/ ^The tyrant really possessed some genuine talentfor invective— when angry his words camereadily, he moved restlessly from place to placeas he spoke, and his loud voice could be heardfrom a distance. He had also much skill inpersuasion, and in his saner moments a winningmanner that was almost irresistible.^ It washis custom to make speeches before the Senate atthe trials <strong>of</strong> great <strong>of</strong>fenders, on which occasionsthe equestrian order was summoned by proclamationto attend the sittings, and the fate <strong>of</strong> theprisoner was <strong>of</strong>ten decided by the opportunitieswhich an attack on the one hand or a defenceon the other respectively <strong>of</strong>fered to the imperialrhetoric.^The ornamental manner <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, studdedwith detached epigrams, contrasted strongly withthe torrential eloquence <strong>of</strong> the emperor and onone occasion nearly cost him his life. He hadspoken in the Senate in the emperor's presencewith such eloquence and success that Caligula'sjealousy was aroused, and the orator would havepaid the extreme penalty for his triumph had notone <strong>of</strong> the imperial mistresses persuaded her loverthat <strong>Seneca</strong> was in a rapid consumption and must* 'Arenam sine calce'*(Suet., Cal. 53).^Joseplius, Ant. xix. 2.Suet., Cal. 53.
THE PRINCIPATE OF CALIGULA 27shortly die in any case.^It was doubtless to thisescape that he alluded when he wrote long afterwardsto Lucilius that a disease, seemingly mortalhad prolonged the lives and proved the salvation<strong>of</strong> many men.^ Whether from this alarm, orfrom the state <strong>of</strong> his health, or because after thedeath <strong>of</strong> his father he felt more at liberty t<strong>of</strong>ollow his own inclinations, <strong>Seneca</strong> at this timeceased to plead causes and devoted himself toliterature and philosophy. Through his quaestorshiphe was a member <strong>of</strong> the Senate, where hemust have been present at the remarkable sceneswhich followed the assassination <strong>of</strong> Caligulaand may have shared in the brief dream <strong>of</strong> arestoration <strong>of</strong> their old supremacy from whichthe senators were so rudely awakened by thesoldiers and the populace.Scattered about in <strong>Seneca</strong>'s works are stories<strong>of</strong> the emperor whom he declared that Naturecould only have produced to show what thegreatestvices could effect when found in thehighest station; and they are interesting as theonly accounts <strong>of</strong> the tyrant, exceptthat <strong>of</strong> PhiloJudaeus, which we have from an eye-witness.Though one <strong>of</strong> the chief amusements <strong>of</strong> Caligulawas to hold up to ridicule the bodily imperfections<strong>of</strong> others, his own appearance, <strong>Seneca</strong> tellsus, inhis last years was itself well adapted to mockery.He was bald, with stray hairs drawn down overhis forehead to conceal his baldness ;his livid^Dion, lix. ig.*Ep. 78.fuit videri perire.''Multorum mortem distulit morbus ;et saluti illis
28 SENECAcomplexion bore witness to the disorder <strong>of</strong> his mind ;he had the wrinkled brow <strong>of</strong> an old woman, anddeep set under it wild and ferocious eyes. Hisneck was hairy, his legs slender, and his feetenormous.^This description, overcharged perhaps at anytime, can only have been applicable to Caligulaas he was when the illness which destroyed hismind had in its effects led him to those shamefulphysical excesses and yet more shameful crueltiesand extravagances which degraded the last twoyears <strong>of</strong> his principate. It cannot have been true<strong>of</strong> the young Caius during the first months <strong>of</strong> hisreign, adored throughout the Empire, courteous,generous, eloquent, and charming as he thenappeared while, with ' Youth on the prow andPleasure at the helm,' the ship <strong>of</strong> State rodeproudly along after the gloomy closing years <strong>of</strong>Tiberius.Nothing [wrote Philo <strong>of</strong> that time] was to be seenthroughout our cities but altars and sacrifices, priestsclad in white and garlanded, the joyous ministers <strong>of</strong> thegeneral mirth, festivals and assemblies, musical contestsand horse-races, wakes by day and night, amusements,recreations, pleasures <strong>of</strong> every kind and addressed toevery sense.For the Roman aristocracy this halcyon periodcame to an end with the recovery <strong>of</strong> Caius fromhis illness,^ for the exigencies <strong>of</strong> his luxury andhis megalomania having exhausted his treasury, a^De Constant. Sapientis, i8. Cp. Suet., Cal. 50.2"With the people the emperor, hke Nero, seems to have retainedpopularity to the end (Josephus, Ant. Jud. xix. i. 20, ii. 5).
THE PRINCIPATE OF CALIGULA 29veritable reign <strong>of</strong> terror began in order to supplyit from the spoils <strong>of</strong> rich victims, and increasedin intensity as the consciousness <strong>of</strong> guilt madehim suspect the designs <strong>of</strong> every man <strong>of</strong> note orhonesty. We are reminded o'f the death <strong>of</strong> SirThomas More by <strong>Seneca</strong>'s account <strong>of</strong> the serenelast hours — <strong>of</strong> Julius Canus one <strong>of</strong> the senatorswho was put to death.Canus Julius [he writes], a man <strong>of</strong> such commandinggreatness that his glory could not be obscured evenby the envy that always attaches to contemporaries,was leaving the presence after a long altercation with*Caligula. I may as well tell you,' said the tyrantby way <strong>of</strong> final rejoinder, so that you may not flatter'yourself with false hopes, that I have given orders foryour execution.''I thank you, most excellent prince,'replied Canus. He . . . passed the ten days' intervalbetween sentence and execution with a mind free fromany kind <strong>of</strong> anxiety — indeed, the perfect tranquillity displayedin his words and actions almost passes belief.He was playing at draughts when summoned by thecenturion in charge <strong>of</strong> the prisoners destined to die thatday. He counted his pieces, and said to the other player,*Look, I have most left. Now you are not after mydeath to pretend you have won.' And turning to thecenturion, ' I call you to 'witness,' he said, that Iam a piece to the good.' His friends were lamenting ;grieved at ''losing such a man. Why so sad ? he said.'You will go on discussing whether the soul is immortal ;but I shall know in a few minutes.' His search fortruth persisted to the very end and death itself afforded;him a new subject for investigation. He was accompaniedby a philosopher and already stood near to thealtar on which the daily sacrifice was <strong>of</strong>fered to ourgod CaHgula. What were the subjects <strong>of</strong> his thoughts ?He declared his intention in that last rapid moment
30 SENECAcarefullyto observe whether the soul is conscious <strong>of</strong> itsflight ; and he promised,if he discovered anything, toreturn and tell his friends where and what were thesouls <strong>of</strong> the departed.^It was impossible, as <strong>Seneca</strong> observed, to practisephilosophy longer and this tranquillity in the;midst <strong>of</strong> tempests argued a soul vi^orthy <strong>of</strong> eternity.To pity the fates <strong>of</strong> such men as Canus, Socrates,or Sir Thomas More w^ould be to misunderstandthem. But the emperor's freakish cruelty couldnot always be so thwarted and another incident;related by <strong>Seneca</strong> isprobably more characteristic<strong>of</strong> the time than that just recorded. There wasa rich knight called Pastor whose son, having<strong>of</strong>fended Caligula by the luxuriance <strong>of</strong> his hairand the elegance <strong>of</strong> his apparel, had been throwninto prison. Pastor came to the emperor to begfor his son's release; whereupon Caligula, asifsuddenly reminded <strong>of</strong> something he had forgotten,ordered the youth to instant execution.The same day he invited the father to a banquet<strong>of</strong> one hundred covers ;and instructed a spy toobserve his looks and conduct. Pastor came,showing no discomposure in his countenance.The feast was splendid, and the emperor drankto his health, plied him with wine, sent himointments and garlands, treated him with especialcourtesy, and bade him drown his cares in wineand good-fellowship. Pastor, a gouty old man,showed no sign <strong>of</strong> distress. He anointed himselfwith the oil, crowned himself with the garlands,and drank more than would have become him1De Tranquill. Animi, c. 14.
THE PRINCIPATE OF CALIGULA 31had he been celebrating his son's birthday instead<strong>of</strong> his funeral. Why did he act thus when sickto death at heart ? He had another son.^After Caligula, paying the penalty <strong>of</strong> hismisdeeds, had died by the hand <strong>of</strong> a militarytribune named Cassius Chaerea whom jeeringpersonal insults had goaded into action, his uncleClaudius was discovered by a soldier hiding behinda curtain in a dark corner <strong>of</strong> the palace, draggedtrembling from his hiding-place to the praetoriancamp, and saluted as emperor by the soldiery.On the news <strong>of</strong> the assassination the Senatemet and resolved to restore the ancient constitution.They were at first supported by four urbancohorts ; and, for the last time in Roman history,the watchword was given by the consuls. Chaerea,who came to ask for it, was received with loudapplause ; and the word, chosen was Lihertas.But the praetorian soldiers were determined thatthe supreme power should be their own gift ;and the people, far from desiring a return to thetroublous times <strong>of</strong> the republic, regarded theemperor as a refuge against senatorial oppressionmasters as the worst <strong>of</strong> evils. Onand manythe second day only one hundred senators obeyedthe summons <strong>of</strong> the consuls to the Temple <strong>of</strong>Jupiter, whence their own militia, after clamorouslycalling on them to choose an emperor, repaired,on their hesitation, to the camp and took theoath <strong>of</strong> fidelity to Claudius. The Senate thereuponsubmitted to necessity and decreed toClaudius all the honours attached to the principate.1De Ira, ii.33.
CHAPTER IVEXILE IN CORSICA, A.D. 4I-49The new emperor had all his life been the object<strong>of</strong> ridicule and contempt. He was fifty yearsold, slow-minded, awkward in his motions, weakon his legs, with tremulous head and handsand a tongue too large for his mouth, fearfulto excess, apathetic to such a degree that noinsult could rouse in him resentment nor sufferingsmove him to pity, greedy and sensuous,learned, pedantic, and absent-minded— honestwithal and well-meaning. As a child his motherAntonia described him as a monstrosity, anunfinished and abandoned attempt <strong>of</strong> Nature ;and would say <strong>of</strong> a man that he was as great afool as her son Claudius. The Emperor Augustus,noted for his grace and beauty, was ashamed<strong>of</strong> his strange young kinsman ;and sequesteredhim as much as possible from the public view.He was kept in rough hands under the discipline<strong>of</strong> pupilage for an unusually long time, andadmitted to no public honours until after thedeath <strong>of</strong> Augustus, when Tiberius, who treatedhim with more consideration, bestowed uponhim consular privileges while still denying him
EXILE IN CORSICA 33the consulship. To this honour he was at lastpromoted by Caligula on his accession ; butthe mortifications he was compelled to endureat his nephew's Court exceeded all that he hadpreviously experienced. He became the butt<strong>of</strong> the courtiers, and the victim <strong>of</strong> a thousandpractical jokes played upon him to amuse theemperor. When he arrived late for dinner hewas made to take the lowest place at the table ;when he slept, as he usually did after satisfyinghis gluttonous appetite, they pelted him witholive stones or drew slippers over his hands,so that he might rub his eyes with them onwaking. In Campania, however, where he hadlived in retirement for many years on his exclusionfrom public business, in the intervals <strong>of</strong> thetime given to the pleasures <strong>of</strong> the table and tothe gaming which he loved, he had cultivatedhis understanding, and studied to some effect.He was an excellent Greek scholar, could makea good set speech when given time for preparation,and was the author <strong>of</strong> numerous works onhistorical and grammatical subjects.Claudius began his reignwell. He recalledthe citizens unjustly exiled by his predecessor,and restored to them their goods ; he repealedthe oppressive new taxes ;he administeredjustice personally with great assiduity, assistedby the consuls and praetors as assessors ;heburnt aU incriminating letters left by Caligulaafter having shown them to the persons concerned;he forbade the practice <strong>of</strong> makingbequests to] the emperor to which rich men
34 SENECAhad been accustomed to resort as the only way<strong>of</strong> securing the disposition <strong>of</strong> the rest <strong>of</strong> theirproperty in accordance with their will and he;restored to the cities from which they had beentaken the statues which Caligula had broughtto Rome. Other measures, such as the prohibition<strong>of</strong> Jewish ceremonies and the closing<strong>of</strong> public-houses, were <strong>of</strong> a more questionablecharacter.But the emperor's dull, timorous, and selfindulgentnature soon tired <strong>of</strong> well-doing ; acreature <strong>of</strong> habit, and dreading change <strong>of</strong> anykind, he fell ever more completely under theinfluence <strong>of</strong> his dissolute, cruel, and rapaciouswife Messalina, and <strong>of</strong> the freedmen to whosefaces he was accustomed, until at last he becamealmost as neglected and despised as he had beenbefore his accession. That no man isdespisedby others until he first despises himself,observation made by <strong>Seneca</strong>. Claudius despisedhimself and was comically conscious <strong>of</strong> hisweakness. Once when a female witness wasis angiving her evidence before the Senate, he said :'This was my mother's maid and freedwoman ;but she always regarded me as her master.I saythis because there are still some people living inmy house who do not regard me as their master.'The empress and the freedmen, by workingon his fears, were able to secure the condemnation<strong>of</strong> anyone whose estates they coveted orwhose designs they suspected ; and, by selling<strong>of</strong>fices and justice, to amass huge fortunes forthemselves. The two ruling passions <strong>of</strong> Claudius
EXILE IN CORSICA 35were for women and for the bloody spectacles<strong>of</strong> the arena. The first enslaved him to his successivewives and their favourites ;the secondmade him find more satisfaction in the condemnationswhich provided material for hisamusements than in the acquittal <strong>of</strong> accusedpersons.Among those who were recalled from exileat the beginning <strong>of</strong> the new reign were theemperor's nieces, Julia and Agrippina, whomtheir brother Caligula, with his usual inconstancy,had banished after having heaped upon themevery kind <strong>of</strong> honour. Julia was beautiful andambitious ;and <strong>Seneca</strong>, attached as he was tothe house <strong>of</strong> Germanicus, was much in hersociety. The emperor also conversed with her<strong>of</strong>ten alone and seemed likely to fall under herinfluence. Messalina, w^ho received from theproud beauty neither honour nor flattery, becamejealous and alarmed. Julia's husband had beensuggested as a possible successor to Caligulaafter his assassination,^ and the remembrance<strong>of</strong> this may perhaps have enabled the empressto persuade Claudius again to banish her withina year <strong>of</strong> her recall from exile. However thatmay be, banished she was on a charge <strong>of</strong> adultery,and shortly afterwards put to death in her place<strong>of</strong> exile. <strong>Seneca</strong>, in the brief struggle for powerbetween the empress and Julia, had attachedhimself to Julia, and shared her disgrace. Hewas accused <strong>of</strong> a criminal intrigue with Julia andbanished to Corsica by a decree <strong>of</strong> the Senate.^1Josephus, Ant. Jud. xix. 4.^Dion Cassius, Ix. 8,
36 SENECAA capital sentence was firstproposed but;this, on the emperor's interposition, was changedto one <strong>of</strong> exile.^From the barren and inhospitable shores<strong>of</strong> Corsica, where <strong>Seneca</strong> in middle life was detainedfor nearly eight years, he wrote, after aninterval <strong>of</strong> six months from his arrival, the 'Consolation'to his mother H elvia which Bolingbrokehas paraphrased in his ' Reflections upon Exile.'She must grieve, he tells her, neither for hissake nor her own. Not for his ;for he is notunhappy. All that he has lost, all that fortunehad so lavishly bestowed upon him— honours,—money, fame he had never held as ifthey werehis own.I kept a great interval between me and them.She took them, but she could not tear them fromme. No man suffers by bad fortune, but he whohas been deceived by good. If we grow fond <strong>of</strong> hergifts, fancy that they belong to us, and are perpetuallyto remain with us, if we lean on them, and expect to beconsidered for them, we shall sink into all the bitterness<strong>of</strong> grief as soon as these false and transitory benefitspass away, as soon as our vain and childish minds,unfraught with solid pleasures, become destitute even<strong>of</strong> those which are imaginary. But if we do not sufferourselves to be transported by prosperity, neither shallwe be reduced by adversity. Our souls wiU be <strong>of</strong> pro<strong>of</strong>against the danger <strong>of</strong> both these states ;and havingexplored our strength we shaU be sure <strong>of</strong> it.^All that is best in man, he urges, liesbeyond^ 'Consol. ad Pol. xxxvii. :Deprecatus est pro me senatum,et vitam mihi non tantum dedit, sed etiam petiit.'*Consol, ad Helviam, v.(Bolingbroke's translation.)
EXILE IN CORSICA 37the power <strong>of</strong> others. It cannot be given it;cannot be taken away. No change <strong>of</strong> place—and exile isnothing more— can take from himthe glorious spectacle <strong>of</strong> the universe, nor thecontemplating mind, roaming sacred and immortalthroughall the past and all the future,which is itself the noblest part <strong>of</strong> that universe.In support <strong>of</strong> his contention, not very convincingin itself, that since so many people quittheir country <strong>of</strong> their own accord there can beno great hardship in an involuntary exile, <strong>Seneca</strong>gives an interestingday:account <strong>of</strong> the Rome <strong>of</strong> hisConsider Rome. How few <strong>of</strong> the inhabitants <strong>of</strong>that vast city are Romans !They come from coloniesand municipalities ; they flow together from the wholeworld. Some are brought by ambition ;some by theirpublic duties ;others have been entrusted with missions ;luxury in search <strong>of</strong> opportunities, and industry seekinga larger field for action, entice others. Many come insearch <strong>of</strong> pleasure many others to improve their minds;by liberal studies ;while some bring their beauty andothers their eloquence to market. Every race <strong>of</strong> manhastens to the city which <strong>of</strong>fers the greatest prizes bothto virtue and to vice.If,then, his mother has no cause to grieve forhim, neither should she grieve for herself. Tothe loss <strong>of</strong> a protector he knows that she is indifferent,for she has never cared for the success<strong>of</strong> her sons in respect <strong>of</strong> her own interests. Forher distress at her son's absence it is indeed harderto find a remedy. But he exhorts her to consoleherself with her other sons, to one <strong>of</strong> whom,Gallio, his honours will be chiefly valuable as
38 SENECAornaments to be laid at her feet ;to the other,Mela, his leisure, as it may enable him to enjoymore <strong>of</strong> her society. Her grandchild, Novatilla,^has recently lost her mother ;let Helvia be amother to her and undertake the formation <strong>of</strong> hermind and manners ;she will find relief in anoccupation so honourable. Her widowed sister,too, will prove to her the greatest comfort <strong>of</strong> all.It is not, however, to these that she must lookfor the real cure <strong>of</strong> her distress. That must besomething beyond the reach <strong>of</strong> fortune and;can only be found in the philosophical studies towhich she must return. Philosophy, if in goodfaith she receive it within her soul, will leave noroom for grief or for anxiety, or for the unpr<strong>of</strong>itabletroubles <strong>of</strong> a vain despair;to all other faultsand infirmities her breast has long been closed,with philosophyit will be closed to these also.<strong>Seneca</strong> ends his letter by describing his occupationson the island :Since you will be constantly thinking <strong>of</strong> me whetheryou will or no ; since, indeed, I shall be with you morethan your other children, not because I am dearer toyou than they, but because the hand naturally seeksthe painful spot, I will tell you how to think <strong>of</strong> me.Picture me, then, as happy and active, believe thatall is as well with me as possible ;and all is reallywell when the soul, freed from cares, is at leisure forpleasure in lighter studies,its own business, now takingnow in an eager pursuit <strong>of</strong> truth rising to the contem-1This was the daughter <strong>of</strong> GalUo, then known as Novatus.To bim <strong>Seneca</strong> dedicated his treatise De Ira published in 41, inthe interval between the death <strong>of</strong> Caligula and his banishmentto Corsica.
plationEXILE IN CORSICA 39<strong>of</strong> its own nature and that <strong>of</strong> the universe.First, I consider the land and its situation ; next, thesurrounding sea with its ebb and flow ;then the spacebetwixt heaven and earth, and all its terror-striking andtumultuous appearances— the thunder and lightning, theclouds and hurricanes, the snow and hail ; and, lastly,my mind, leaving behind in its progress all that is below,pierces through to the heights, and enjoys the mostbeautiful spectacle <strong>of</strong> things divine, while, mindful <strong>of</strong> itseternity, it wanders through all that is past and dreams<strong>of</strong> all that through all the ages is to come.^Another treatise, or fragment <strong>of</strong> a treatise,<strong>of</strong> a very different character has generally beenascribed to <strong>Seneca</strong>, and issupposed to have beenwritten by him from his place <strong>of</strong> exile. Thisis the ' Consolation to Polybius ' on the death <strong>of</strong>his brother. The rich freedman Polybius actedas literary secretary {a studiis) to Claudius— — animportant post under that learned prince andwas the author <strong>of</strong> prose translations <strong>of</strong> Homerinto Latin and <strong>of</strong> Virgil into Greek. Not onlyis the'Consolation' filled with the most abject flattery,both <strong>of</strong> him and yet more <strong>of</strong> the emperor, but itis flattery <strong>of</strong> such a kind, so maladroit, so obviouslyinsincere, that it is hard to believe that it can everhave given pleasure to a human being; and stillharder to suppose that a learned, witty,and selfrespectingman <strong>of</strong> the world, with the talent forpleasing which even his critics allowed <strong>Seneca</strong> topossess— a writer, moreover, very sensitive in thematter <strong>of</strong> his own reputation— could have imagined1Peragratis humilioribus, ad summa prorumpit, et pulcherrimodivinorum spectaculo fruitur, aeternitatisque suae memor, inomne quod fuit futurumque est omnibus saeculis, vadit.
40 SENECAthat it was capable <strong>of</strong> giving such pleasure.Claudius — iscomplimented on the excellence <strong>of</strong> hismemory Claudius who inquired when Messalinawas coming to dinner on the day after her execution^ ; Polybiusis assured that he is on a level withHomer and Virgil, and that if he celebrates theacts <strong>of</strong> the emperor, in whose super-excellence hemay find at once material for his history and aperfect model for historical composition, his workwill be read by the latest posterity.All the serious works <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> abound withl<strong>of</strong>ty and striking thoughts so happily expressedthat they stamp themselves upon the mind.Scarce any writer has been more <strong>of</strong>ten quotedwith or without acknowledgment, or more deservesquotation, than he <strong>of</strong> whose treatises it has beensaid by one <strong>of</strong> the best <strong>of</strong> English critics that intheir combination <strong>of</strong> high thought with deepfeeling they have rarely, if ever, been surpassed.But high thought and deep feeling and moral'dignity are alike absent from the Consolation toPolybius.' There is hardly a sentence in it worthy<strong>of</strong> quotation. The sentiment iscommonplacewhere it is not affected. The writer observes^Consol. ad Pol. xxxiii. : 'Tenacissiraa memoria retulit.* Atfirst sight it seems incredible that <strong>Seneca</strong> could have written thisexcept in conscious mockery, on which an unlimited faith in theemperor's dullness <strong>of</strong> apprehension could alone have emboldenedhim to venture. Even the flatterers <strong>of</strong> Louis XIV did not speak<strong>of</strong> his frugality or humility, nor would it have served them to doso. Flattery to gain its end must rest, however superficially, onsome foundation <strong>of</strong> fact. But the learned Claudius may reallyhave had a good verbal memory, <strong>of</strong>ten to be found in combinationwith the forgetfulness that comes from want <strong>of</strong> interest orattention
EXILE IN CORSICA41<strong>of</strong> the <strong>Stoic</strong> school to which <strong>Seneca</strong> belonged,that its philosophers were more remarkable forhardness than for judgment, and that had theyever known what it was to suffer real adversitythey would have been compelled to recant theirdoctrines and confess the truth. Moreover, <strong>Seneca</strong>was no flatterer; for the noble panegyric <strong>of</strong> theyoung Nero's clemency, written before the emperorhad forfeited all title to that virtue, and at a timewhen it was <strong>of</strong> high importance to the commonwealthto interest the vanity which was his rulingpassion in the maintenance <strong>of</strong> his reputation inthat regard, was not flattery. Tacitus tells us that,in <strong>Seneca</strong>'s last message to Nero, he remindedhim that he was not given to adulation, addingthat no one knew this better than the emperor,who had more reason to complain <strong>of</strong> his freedomthan <strong>of</strong> his servility.^Again, we are told that hisenemies, when plotting his fall, among manyother accusations charged him with aversion tothe emperor's favourite amusements, with depreciatinghis skill in horsemanship, and with thinkingscorn, and expressing it, even <strong>of</strong> the celebratedvoice. ^ He himself in the De dementia, afterdescribing the golden age that had followed theaccession <strong>of</strong> Nero, says that he does not dwellupon this picture to flatter the emperor's ears,for that he would always rather trouble them bya truth than please them by adulation. Dion^ 'Tac. Ann. xv. 6i : Nee sibi promptum in adulationesingenium. Idque nulli magis gnarum, quam Neroni, qui saepiuslibertatem <strong>Seneca</strong>e, quam servitium expertus esset.'^ Ann. xiv. 52.
42 SENECACassius, it is true, or his abbreviator, in the course<strong>of</strong> that singular invective against <strong>Seneca</strong> whichcontrasts so strangely with his earlier referencesto him, saysthat he addressed a book full <strong>of</strong>flattery from Corsica to the imperial freedmen ;but adds, that on his return from exile hewas ashamed <strong>of</strong> it and succeeded in suppressingit.i The conjecture <strong>of</strong> Diderot is, that theoriginal treatise having perished that which wenow possessis a forgery, composed by one <strong>of</strong> thenumerous hostile critics <strong>of</strong> the life and writings <strong>of</strong><strong>Seneca</strong> whom the conservative reaction againsthim in the second century called into existence,and that it was designed to load with odium andridicule philosopher, freedman, and emperor alike.Much <strong>of</strong> itcertainly reads like a parody; forthose characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, which are easy <strong>of</strong>imitation or caricature— the short sentences, theantitheses,the sudden turns, the rhetoric, and s<strong>of</strong>orth—are all there ;while there is little trace<strong>of</strong> his wit, or subtlety, or imagination, or depth,or mental elevation. The climax is replaced byanti-climax, the sursum corda by unworthy repinings<strong>of</strong> which Ovid might have been ashamed.Yet glad though one might be to take refugein the surmise <strong>of</strong> Diderot from a conclusiondiscreditable to <strong>Seneca</strong>, the internal evidence <strong>of</strong>his authorship is almost irresistible, and the circumstancesin which a man <strong>of</strong> his temperamentthen found himself go far to explain, though theycannot altogether excuse, the temporary supersession<strong>of</strong> his finer instincts. There are passages*Dion, Ixi. lo.
EXILE IN CORSICA 43in the treatise so characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, bothin manner and in matter, that they may seem toreaders famihar with his other writings almostthe skill <strong>of</strong> an imitator.^beyondIn the last chapter, after exhorting Polybiusto distract his mind from his sorrow by plungingmore deeply than ever into his learned studies,the writer, by a sudden and characteristic turn,admits that to root it out altogether wouldneither be possible nor even desirable.Let your tears flow [he says] as nature will ;neithercheck nor encourage them. But do not hug your sorrow,or think that by so doing you honour the dead. Letyour lost brother be <strong>of</strong>ten in your thoughts, talk naturallyabout him, meditate on his excellent qualities anddescribe them to others ;tell them all that he mighthave been had he lived. You will forget him and ceaseto honour his memory if you associate it with sadness,for the soul naturally turns away from what is painful.These very arguments in the same sequencebut in different words, this very advice and consolation,<strong>Seneca</strong> many years later addressed toanother friend who had lost a little son.^ The^E.g. in chap, xxviii. 'Si velis credere altius veritatem:intuentibus, omnis vita supplicium est. In hoc pr<strong>of</strong>unduminquietumque projecti mare, alternis aestibus reciprocum, etmodo allevans nos subitis incrementis. modo majoribus damnisdeferens, assidueque jactans, nunquam stabili consistimus loco :pendemus et fluctuamur, et alter in alterum illidiniur, et aliquandonaujragium Jacimus, semper timemus.'*Ep. 99. Cp. especially the reflection in the ' Consolation,''Naturale est enim, ut semper animus ab eo refugiat ad quod'cum tristitia revertitur,' with that in the letter, Nemo enimlibenter tristi conversatur, nedum tristitiae ' ; and the advicein the former, Omnia 'dicta ejus ac facta et aliis expone, ettibimet ipse commemora,' with that <strong>of</strong> the latter, 'De illo frequenterloquere, et memoriam ejus quantum potes celebra.'
44 SENECAcoincidence may, <strong>of</strong> course, have its origin inthe skill <strong>of</strong> a forger, but in that case he musthave possessed a power <strong>of</strong> reserve very unusualin his kind ;for we have here no caricature, butan apparent example <strong>of</strong> the manner in which atrain <strong>of</strong> thought recurs to a writer after a longinterval <strong>of</strong> years when once again treating asimilar subject.Moreover, when we consider the circumstancesin which <strong>Seneca</strong> then found himself, and thecharacter <strong>of</strong> the man, we find it less difficultto believe in his authorship. In the prime <strong>of</strong>life, at the summit <strong>of</strong> his fame, ambition, andpopularity {'turn maxime placentem'), havingalready entered through his quaestorship on thecourse <strong>of</strong> honours, married happily, and with a littleson Marcus to whom he was tenderly attached,reunited to an adored mother whom helatelywas not likely, if his exile were prolonged, everagain to see,he was suddenly thrown on a falsecharge into solitary exile in a barren and unhealthyisland. And <strong>Seneca</strong> was not cast in anheroic mould. Though his gaze was on thestars, his feet were <strong>of</strong>ten in the mud. He himselfhumbly owned that he did not live up tohis own ideals, and said with Horace, ' Videomeliora pr oho que, deteriora sequor.' At the end<strong>of</strong> a few years <strong>of</strong> an exile which was destinedto last for nearly eight, his spirit was broken.In the verses which he wrote in Corsica hespeaks <strong>of</strong> himself as a corpse, and threatensa false friend— whoever that —might be nowbecome his enemy, with the vengeance <strong>of</strong> the
EXILE IN CORSICA 45dead.^ Everything in the island displeased him— the burning heat <strong>of</strong> the summer, the terriblecold <strong>of</strong> the winter, the unfertile soil, the lonelinessand ruggedness <strong>of</strong> the country.^The cri de cceur with which he ends the work— perhaps the only sincere passage it contains —bears strong witness to its authenticity :I have strung together these thoughts [he writessadly] to the best <strong>of</strong> my ability {utcimque potui) from abrain dulled and confused by the rust <strong>of</strong> a long inactivity.They are, perhaps, quite unworthy <strong>of</strong> your attention,quite unfitted for the object I had in view. But whatwould you have ? How can a man overwhelmed byhis own misfortunes give comfort to others ? How canhe find the words he wants, or express his meaningwith felicity,when the only language he hears is one soharsh and uncouth as to <strong>of</strong>fend the ears even <strong>of</strong> themore civilised among barbarians themselves ?^Occisi jugulum quisquis scrutaris amici,Tu miserum necdum me satis esse putas ?Desere confossum. Victor! vulnus iniquoMortiferum impressit mortua saepe manus.*Non panis, non haustus aquae, non ultimus ignis;Hie sola haec duo sunt : exsul et exsilium.
CHAPTER VRETURN FROM EXILE— LAST YEARSCLAUDIUS, A.D. 48-54OFA PALACE revolution at Rome in the year 48brought the exile <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> to an end. Messalina,made reckless by passion for her lover Silius,resolved to risk all on a desperate throw, and,at his urgent entreaty, agreed publicly to marryhim while Claudius was away at Ostia, afterwhich he was to seize the supreme power andadopt her son Britannicus. The freedmen <strong>of</strong>Claudius— Narcissus, Callistus, and Pallas— fearful<strong>of</strong> losing their power and fortunes, hesitatedbetween three courses— either to do nothing, orby secret threats <strong>of</strong> informing the emperor tosever Messalina from Silius and force her toabandon her designs, or without further delayto communicate to Claudius what was goingforward and to risk the destruction that wouldalmost inevitably follow should Messalina oncemore find an opportunity <strong>of</strong> controlling ina personal interview the infirm will <strong>of</strong> thetimorous and besotted Caesar. The last courserecommended itself to Narcissus, at once theboldest <strong>of</strong> the freedmen and the most attachedto the emperor. Claudius, informed, was on
RETURN FROM EXILE47his way back from Ostia, while in the garden<strong>of</strong> his palace the Bacchanalia were being celebratedwith feasting and drinking and the wildestexcesses. Messahna herself, as a Bacchante, herhair flowing and shaking the thyrsus, andSilius, crowned with ivy, led the revels ; andaround them women, clad in skins, dancedand sang in mad self-abandonment. One <strong>of</strong>the revellers, who had climbed to the top <strong>of</strong> atree, was asked by his comrades what he saw :'An awful storm coming up from Ostia,' he replied,in words afterwards regarded as a presage.Soon after came the news that Claudius knewall, and was returning post-haste to Rome andvengeance. The company scattered, and Messalinawent out to meet the emperor with her children,Octavia and Britannicus. Narcissus, however,and his confederates contrived to prevent ameeting ; Claudius, stunned, stupid, and silent,left all to the freedman ;Silius was seized andput to death ;and the same night Messalina,by Narcissus' direction and the emperor's pretendedorder, suffered the same fate. The newswas brought to Claudius at his dinner. He wasnot told whether she died by her own hand or bythat <strong>of</strong> another, nor had he the curiosity to ask.In the ensuing days [says Tacitus]he showed nosigns <strong>of</strong> anger or <strong>of</strong> hatred, <strong>of</strong> joy or <strong>of</strong> grief,or <strong>of</strong>any human emotion ;nor was he moved in any degreeby the sight either <strong>of</strong> his sorrowing children or <strong>of</strong>the triumphant satisfaction displayed by Messalina'saccusers.-^1Ann. xi. 38.
48 SENECAThe crisis over, the next object <strong>of</strong> the freedmenwas to provide a successor to the place andpower <strong>of</strong> Messahna. The candidate <strong>of</strong> Narcissuswas AeHa Petina, a former wife <strong>of</strong> Claudius,whom he had divorced for trivial reasons/ andthe mother <strong>of</strong> his daughterAntonia. Callistussupported the claims <strong>of</strong> Lollia Paullina, a beautifulwoman <strong>of</strong> immense wealth, who hadbeen married for a short time to Caligula.Pallas espoused the cause <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, thedaughter <strong>of</strong> Germanicus, the sister <strong>of</strong> Caligula,and the niece <strong>of</strong> the emperor. Claudius, theslave <strong>of</strong> habit and easily governed by thosewho had access to him, was exposed to the arts<strong>of</strong> Agrippina, whose relationship gave her opportunitiesnot enjoyed by her rivals <strong>of</strong> alluringher amorous uncle. This relationship, however,was in another way an obstacle to the alliance,for Roman public opinion regarded such marriagesas incestuous, and Claudius himself had recentlybeen prevailed upon by Agrippina— who wishedto clear the way for her son's marriage — to cancelthe betrothal <strong>of</strong> his daughter Octavia to LuciusSilanus by a false charge against that senator<strong>of</strong> a criminal attachment to his sister. But thecourtier Vitellius, conspicuously servile even inan age <strong>of</strong> servility, who had been employed toconcoct the charge against Silanus, again placedhis services at the disposal <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, andeasily persuaded the Senate to implore theemperor, in the public interests, to contract thismarriage. At the same time such marriages1 'Ex levibus <strong>of</strong>fensis ' (Suet., Claudius, 26).
RETURN FROM EXILE 49were declared legal by a decree <strong>of</strong> the Senate.Claudius was married to Agrippina, her sonDomitius was betrothed to Octavia and soonafter adopted by the emperor under the name<strong>of</strong> Nero, Silanus slew himself, while LoUia, accused<strong>of</strong> consulting the Chaldaeans concerning the emperor'smarriage, was driven into exile, and soonafterwards obliged to end her lifeby order <strong>of</strong> theempress.But Agrippina [adds Tacitusj, that she might notbecome known through evil deeds alone, obtained forAnnaeus <strong>Seneca</strong> his recall from exile, and at the sametime the praetorship. She thought that this would bea popular step, because <strong>of</strong> his high reputation for learningand eloquence, and she was, moreover, desirous to entrustto him the education <strong>of</strong> her son Nero, whose successionto the Empire he might be expected to further by hiscounsels, bound to Agrippina, as he would be, throughgratitude, and hostile to the house <strong>of</strong> Claudius out <strong>of</strong>resentment <strong>of</strong> his exile .^His return to Rome gave <strong>Seneca</strong> an opportunity<strong>of</strong> observing at close quarters the abuses<strong>of</strong> one <strong>of</strong> the worst governments that Romehad known. The chief feature <strong>of</strong> the reign <strong>of</strong>Claudius was the transfer <strong>of</strong> the administrationfrom the ancient magistracies to a kind <strong>of</strong> imperialcivil service, at the head <strong>of</strong> which were the freedmen<strong>of</strong> the imperial household. The provinceswere governed for the most part by procurators,or direct representatives <strong>of</strong> the emperor, chosennot from among the senators, but from knightsand freedmen ;and to these were committed, by*Ann. xii, 8.
50 SENECAa decree <strong>of</strong> the Senate, the full judicial powersexercised in Rome by the emperor. In RomeClaudius became the minister <strong>of</strong> his freedmensecretaries, who accumulated vast fortunes bythe sale <strong>of</strong> honours and commands, pardonsand punishments, and at their pleasure rescindedthe emperor's decisions, tampered with his warrants,and cancelled his donatives. Pallas, themost powerful <strong>of</strong> them, was his financial secretary,and the paramour <strong>of</strong> Agrippina. Thosepowers, we are told by Tacitus, for which informer times the rival orders <strong>of</strong> the State hadso fiercely contended, which had passed fromknights to Senate and from Senate to knights,and which had been the chief subject <strong>of</strong> the warbetween Marius and Sylla, were by Claudiusgiven over to his nominees <strong>of</strong> any rank. Theearlier Caesars had indeed givenfull powersto their representatives in provinces such asEgypt, speciallyreserved to them under theconstitution <strong>of</strong> Augustus, but these had alwaysbeen knights <strong>of</strong> distinction— it was reserved toClaudius to raise the authority <strong>of</strong> freedmen <strong>of</strong>his household to a level with his own and that<strong>of</strong> the laws.^Claudius himself had a passion for sittingin judgment, which recalls the judge in Racine'scomedy. In the early part <strong>of</strong> his reign he wouldsit all day in the Forum, or in the portico <strong>of</strong> one<strong>of</strong>the temples, hearing cases even on feast-days,^Tac. Ann. xii. 60: ' Matios posthac et Vedios et ceteraequitum praevalida nomina, referre nihil attinuerit ; cumClaudius libertos, quos rei familiari praefecerat, sibique etlegibus adaequaverit.' Also Suet., Claudius, 28.
RETURN FROM EXILE 51and giving his decisions rather on what appearedto him general principles <strong>of</strong> equity thanin obedience to the letter <strong>of</strong> the law. He had aloud, hoarse voice, difficult to follow, and thoughhe sometimes showed sagacity on the bench,his judgments were, we are told, rash and unconsidered,and at times in the highest degreeabsurd. He would always decide against theabsent in favour <strong>of</strong> the present, however involuntarysuch absence may have been, andin his anxiety to finish the greatest amount<strong>of</strong> business in the shortest possible time would<strong>of</strong>ten pronounce judgment after hearing onlyone side <strong>of</strong> the case. He made no attempt topreserve his dignity. Pleaders would pull himback to the bench by his cloak as he was hurrying<strong>of</strong>f to his dinner. On one occasion a knight,accused <strong>of</strong> some <strong>of</strong>fence by the meanest kind<strong>of</strong> witnesses, was so exasperated by the emperor'sstupidity that he flung his papers at the imperialhead.^ So long, however, as Claudius tried casesopenly no great harm was done. But after atime he was persuaded by his wives and freedmento try political <strong>of</strong>fenders in camera, with hisunworthy favourites as assessors ;and the worstinstances <strong>of</strong> cruelty and oppression that disgracedhis reign were the result. The opinion <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>on these methods <strong>of</strong> administration may begathered from the pasquinade on the apotheosis<strong>of</strong> Claudius which he afterwards wrote, andfrom the reforms in the early part <strong>of</strong> Nero'sreign<strong>of</strong> which he was the author.* Suet., Claud, xv.
52, SENECANero was twelve years old when adopted byClaudius ; Britannicus, the emperor's son, threeyears younger. They were now brothers in theeye <strong>of</strong> the law, and Nero as the elder was givenClaudius announced the adoption inprecedence.a speech to the Senate, defending it on groundssuggested to him by Pallas as a step taken inthe public interest with a view to the lightening<strong>of</strong> his own labours and the provision <strong>of</strong> a supportfor the childhood <strong>of</strong> Britannicus. He cited theprecedents <strong>of</strong> Augustus, who, in the lifetime <strong>of</strong>his grandsons, had shared his power with hisstepsons, and <strong>of</strong> Tiberius, who had adopted hisnephew Germanicus and placed him on an equalitywith his own son Drusus.^In the year 51 Nero, then at the beginning <strong>of</strong>his fourteenth year, assumed the toga virilis— athe lifeceremonial event <strong>of</strong> much importance in<strong>of</strong> a young Roman <strong>of</strong> distinction, for it markedthe close <strong>of</strong> his childhood and his entrance intopublic life. The usual time for this step was thebeginning <strong>of</strong> the fifteenth year, but Nero's powerfulprotectors, anxious by his early advancementto forward his succession to the principate,anticipated by a year the natural period <strong>of</strong> hismajority. The Senate, with characteristic subservience,at once petitioned the emperor byaddress that Nero might be empowered to enteron the consulship in his twentieth year, that inthe meantime as consul designate he might be1 The contemporary genealogists observed that the adoption<strong>of</strong> Nero was the first instance <strong>of</strong> an adoption into the Claudiangens although the patrician family <strong>of</strong> the Claudii was one <strong>of</strong>the oldest in Rome.
RETURN FROM EXILE53granted proconsular authority outside the city, andthat the title <strong>of</strong> princeps jiiventutis, or prince <strong>of</strong>the youth, might be conferred upon him, to allwhich petitions Claudius was graciously pleasedto assent. The soldiers and people were at thesame time gratified with donatives.Britannicus meanwhile was the object <strong>of</strong> generalpity. He was thought a boy <strong>of</strong> much promise,though whether this opinion was well-founded, orwhether it was merely the result <strong>of</strong> the interestnaturally excited by his misfortunes, is a questionleft doubtful by the historian. He was neglectedby the Court, deprived <strong>of</strong> the most faithful <strong>of</strong> hisattendants, and surrounded by the creatures <strong>of</strong>Agrippina. At the circus games held in honour<strong>of</strong> Nero's majority the people marked the contrastbetween that prince's splendid attire adornedwith the triumphal ornaments, and the humblepraetexta, or boy's dress, <strong>of</strong> Britannicus, and theheir to the Empire seemed to be indicated bythe distinction. The twelve-year-old child havingcontinued to call his brother Domitius instead <strong>of</strong>Nero after the adoption, this was made matter<strong>of</strong> grave complaint by Agrippina to Claudius, whothereupon removed his former tutors and substitutedfor them the stepmother's nominees.The most important step, however, taken byAgrippina in her son's interests was the reorganisation<strong>of</strong> the praetorian guard under a single chief.This force, to which the protection <strong>of</strong> the emperor'sperson was entrusted, was at that time underthe joint command <strong>of</strong> Geta and Crispinus— two<strong>of</strong>ficers who owed their commissions to Messalina,
54 SENECAand were believed to be devoted to the cause <strong>of</strong>her children. They were now removed, on thewouldpretext that in the interests <strong>of</strong> discipline itbe better ifthe whole force were commanded bya single prefect,and Afranius Burrhus, a soldier<strong>of</strong> great distinction though <strong>of</strong> humble origin, wasappointed in their room. History has little thatisgood to record <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, but it must beadmitted to her credit that to her the world owedthe rise to power <strong>of</strong> Burrhus and <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, andso indirectly the five years <strong>of</strong> admirable governmentwhich those statesmen afterwards enabledit to enjoy.Though <strong>Seneca</strong> obeyed the call <strong>of</strong> Agrippinato return to Rome and undertake the education<strong>of</strong> her son, he would have preferred to makeother use <strong>of</strong> his recovered liberty. His own wishwas to settle in Athens, as Atticus had done, andthere to live a contemplative life in the study <strong>of</strong>moral and natural philosophy. He soon perceivedhow cruel and pr<strong>of</strong>ligate was the disposition<strong>of</strong> his young pupil; and, though he persuadedhimself that he had in some degree succeededin mollifying it, he is said to have observed inconversation with his intimates that if ever theyoung lion tasted human blood the ingrainedferocity <strong>of</strong> his nature would assert itself.^In the year 53 Nero, then in his seventeenthyear, was married to Octavia and in the same;year made his firstappearance in the Senate asan orator by pleading the cause <strong>of</strong> the citizens <strong>of</strong>Ilium. This speech was in Greek. It dealt with^Scholiast in Juv. Sat. 5, 109.
RETURN FROM EXILE 55the legendary connection <strong>of</strong> Rome with Troyand the descent <strong>of</strong> the JuHan race from Aeneas ;and won from the wilHng Senate, with the totalremission <strong>of</strong> taxes to the men <strong>of</strong> Ilium which wasits nominal, the applause which was its real, object.This success was followed by a Latin speechon behalf <strong>of</strong> Bonona which had been wasted byfire, and a large subsidy in aid <strong>of</strong> the citizenswas the result. Of all the arts eloquence possessedthe least attraction for Nero, and thosespeeches, which excited great admiration, werethe compositions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>.In the following year (54) a succession <strong>of</strong> strangeoccurrences was thought to portend a revolution.There were rumours <strong>of</strong> monstrous births ;tentsand standards were struck by lightning ; onemagistrate from each rank — a quaestor, an aedile,a tribune, a praetor, and a consul— died within afew months. The emperor's health was failing ;and he was beginning to show some symptoms<strong>of</strong> a returning affection for his son Britannicus,whose interests were advanced by the still powerfulfreedman. Narcissus. One day he exclaimed inhis cups that though he was fated to suffer thecrimes <strong>of</strong> all his wives, he was fated also topunish them.^ Agrippina, thoroughly alarmed,resolved to act ;and with the help <strong>of</strong> a womancalled Locusta— a poisoner, we are told, longconsidered a necessary instrument <strong>of</strong> the Court—gave poison to her husband in his favourite dish<strong>of</strong> mushrooms. The death was concealed, and1Tac. Ann. xii. 64 : 'Fatale sibi, ut conjugum flagitia ferret,dein puniret.'
56 SENECABritannicus with his sisters kept within the palace,till all was in readiness for the peaceful succession<strong>of</strong> Nero. The Senate had been summoned onthe news <strong>of</strong> the emperor's illness, and vows were<strong>of</strong>fered for his recovery. At last at midday onOctober 13, the doors <strong>of</strong> the palace were flungopen, Nero, escorted by Burrhus, presented to theguard and, no rival appearing, received withacclamation. Burrhus next brought him to thecamp where, after he had addressed the soldiers;and promised them a donative, he was saluted asimperator. The choice <strong>of</strong> the soldiers was confirmedby a decree <strong>of</strong> the Senate, and followedby the ready submission <strong>of</strong> the provinces.
CHAPTER VITHE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS, A.D. 54-59The first business <strong>of</strong> the Senate in the new reignwas to decree a public funeral to Claudius, andhis apotheosis. On the day <strong>of</strong> the funeral Neromade a speech composed for him by <strong>Seneca</strong>.^So long as he spoke <strong>of</strong> the antiquity, triumphs,and honours <strong>of</strong> the Claudian race, <strong>of</strong> the unbrokenprosperity in external affairs that distinguished thereign <strong>of</strong> Claudius, and <strong>of</strong> the taste <strong>of</strong> that prince forletters and the arts, he was heard with approval ;but when he went on to praise the late emperor'swisdom and foresight his hearers could not restraintheir laughter ; though the speech,' adds Tacitus'with characteristic ambiguity, ' like all <strong>Seneca</strong>'scompositions, was <strong>of</strong> remarkable elegance andcharm, for indeed there was something in theman's turn <strong>of</strong> mind which was exactly fitted tothe taste <strong>of</strong> that generation/ It isprobable thatthe failure <strong>of</strong> this part <strong>of</strong> his speech did notgreatly displease the imperial orator for in;spite<strong>of</strong> the magnificence <strong>of</strong> the funeral ceremonies,the memory <strong>of</strong>Claudius and the apotheosis itself1It was observed that he was the first <strong>of</strong> the emperors whosespeeches were written for him by others. ».,
58 SENECAwere the subjects <strong>of</strong> contemptuous ridicule atthe Court. Claudius, said Gallio, in allusion tothe hooks with which the bodies <strong>of</strong> condemnedcriminals were drawn down the steps <strong>of</strong> theGemoniae and flung into the Tiber, had beendragged to heaven with a hook.^ Nero exclaimedthat now it was clear that mushrooms were foodfor the gods and <strong>Seneca</strong> produced his famous;jeu cV 'esprit under the title <strong>of</strong> the Apocolocyntosisor Pumpkinification <strong>of</strong> Claudius.'In this satirical medley <strong>of</strong> prose and versethe arrival <strong>of</strong> Claudius at the gate <strong>of</strong> heaven withdragging foot and perpetually shaking head isdescribed ;his reception by Hercules, who,accustomed as he is to monsters, is so perturbedby the sight <strong>of</strong> this one that he has to look closelybefore he can distinguish'a sort <strong>of</strong> man,' andbelieves himself at odds with a thirteenth labour ;the delight <strong>of</strong> Claudius on hearing himself addressedin Greek, and the hopehe derives therefrom <strong>of</strong>being able to add his own histories to the library<strong>of</strong> heaven ;the debate in heaven on his admission,and his expulsion at the instance <strong>of</strong> Augustus,who makes his maiden speech on the occasion.Next we hear <strong>of</strong> his descent to the infernal regions,under the escort <strong>of</strong> Mercury, by way <strong>of</strong> Rome, wherethe sight <strong>of</strong> his own funeral taking place amidgeneral rejoicings makes him understand forthe first time that he is dead ;<strong>of</strong> his delight onhis arrival in hell to find himself in the midst<strong>of</strong> old friends, and his discomfiture at the unexpectedreply to his inquiry by what good fortune»Dion, Ix. 35.
they allTHE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 59came to be there assembled—'You sentus, murderer <strong>of</strong> allyour kin ' ; <strong>of</strong> his trial, followedby the condemnation to play at dice for ever witha bottomless box; and, finally, <strong>of</strong> his conveyanceto Caligula, who claimed him as his slave on theplea <strong>of</strong> having <strong>of</strong>ten been seen beating him onearth, and his eventual assignment as a clerkto Menander, Caligula's freedman. The piece,witty and amusing though it be and unique <strong>of</strong>its kind in Latin literature, shows a lack <strong>of</strong>good feeling more characteristic <strong>of</strong> the timethan <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, to whose reputation it can addnothing.The idleness, dissipation, and hatred <strong>of</strong> businesswhich distinguished the young emperor combinedwith his vanity and love <strong>of</strong> popularity to throwthe whole administration <strong>of</strong> affairs in the earlypart <strong>of</strong> his reign into the hands <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> andBurrhus. The single object <strong>of</strong> these two statesmenappears to have been the public good, and as aconsequence <strong>of</strong> this singleness <strong>of</strong> aim no shadow<strong>of</strong> misunderstanding from first to last marred theharmony— <strong>of</strong> their mutual relations a rare circumstance,as Tacitus remarks, in the history <strong>of</strong> publicmen. The virtues <strong>of</strong> the one supplementedthose <strong>of</strong> the other. Burrhus was known for theausterity <strong>of</strong> his life, the bluntness <strong>of</strong> his speech,and the severity <strong>of</strong> his military discipline ; <strong>Seneca</strong>,notwithstanding his stoicism, was a courtier and awit, he knew how to charm others without loss <strong>of</strong>personal dignity, and was a master <strong>of</strong> eloquence.After the funeral ceremonies <strong>of</strong> Claudius hadbeen completed and the pretence <strong>of</strong> mourning
6oSENECAlaid aside/ Nero made his entry into the Senatehouseand announced the pohcy <strong>of</strong> the new reignin a speech composedfor him by <strong>Seneca</strong>. Afterreminding his hearers that his boyhood had beenpassed in no scenes <strong>of</strong> civil or domestic discord,and that he had consequently no injuries to avengeor hatreds to satisfy, he proceeded to touch onthe abuses <strong>of</strong> the late regime and to explain thenew system <strong>of</strong> government which he proposed t<strong>of</strong>ollow. The reign <strong>of</strong> law, he said in effect, wasto replace that <strong>of</strong> caprice. He did not propose tobusy himself personally in the trial <strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong>fenders ;the scandal <strong>of</strong> the secret investigations in theCabinet where accusers and accused alone werepresent was to end the court was no;longer to bea market where <strong>of</strong>fices, privileges, and pardonswere sold to favourites his ; private fortune mustbe distinguished from the public revenue, hishousehold from the ministers <strong>of</strong> the republic.The Senate were to be reinstated in its ancientfunctions, and consular tribunals to be restoredto Italy and the senatorial provinces, with theright <strong>of</strong> appeal to the Senate.^ Let the Senate,he said in conclusion, address themselves to theadministration <strong>of</strong> the republic he himself would;take thought for the armies committed to his care.This speech was heard with exultation by1 'Peractis tristitiae imitamentis ' {Ann. xiii. 4).-This refers to the division <strong>of</strong> the provinces into imperialand senatorial provinces made by Augustus— the latter beingadministered by the Senate, the former directly by himselfthrough procurators. Under Claudius the distinction had beenpractically abolished, and the whole Empire, with a few exceptions,sucli as Achaia, governed by the emperor's procuratorswho, like FeUx in Judaea, were <strong>of</strong>ten freedmen.
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONISthe senators. They decreed that it should beengraved in letters <strong>of</strong> silver, and read publiclyat the beginning <strong>of</strong> each new year, hoping tobind the emperor by this recurring publicationto observe the charter <strong>of</strong> liberties it contained.^Nor were those hopesat first deceived. TheSenate, under the direction doubtless <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>and Burrhus, made early use <strong>of</strong> its recoveredliberties, and Acts were passed dealing with recentabuses. The young emperor himself declared hisintention <strong>of</strong> walking in the steps<strong>of</strong> his ancestor6iAugustus, and seized every opportunity <strong>of</strong> showingcourtesy, humanity, and liberality. The heaviertaxes were reduced or repealed. Informers werediscouraged, and their fees reduced to a fourth.The ruinous burdens which successful candidatesfor honours had been compelled to endure werereduced within more reasonable limits ;appealswere instituted from the judges to the Senate ;the law against forgery was strengthened;andlawyers' fees were regulated.^These reforms were opposed by Agrippina,who had no wish for the downfall <strong>of</strong> a systemby which she had pr<strong>of</strong>ited so largely. But herinfluence was already on the wane. When herpower had been threatened in the preceding reign,she had contrived the death <strong>of</strong> Claudius in orderto preserve it, but she was now to find that herambition had overleaptitself. At first, indeed,all had gone well. Her violence and imperioustemper intimidated Nero and bent him to herwishes, though he longed»Dion Cassius, Ixi. 3.to shake <strong>of</strong>f a detested*Suet. Nero, x.
62 SENECAyoke. He began by heaping honours on themother to whom he owed the Empire. Sheaccepted these honours as her due, and wasimprudent enough continually to remind him<strong>of</strong> his obligations. The assassination <strong>of</strong> Silanus,Proconsul <strong>of</strong> Asia, gave early pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> what mightbe expected from the continuance <strong>of</strong> her power.Silanus had owed his safety in the preceding reignsto his inactivity and notorious lack <strong>of</strong> ambition,but as a descendant <strong>of</strong> Augustus he had beenspoken <strong>of</strong> as a possible rival to Nero, and he wasthe brother <strong>of</strong> another Silanus for whose deathunder Claudius Agrippina had been responsible.Agrippina, therefore, caused him to be poisonedat his own table, employing as her agents twomen charged with the management <strong>of</strong> the imperialestate in the province. The crime was committedwith so little attempt at concealment that it wasa secret to none. Narcissus, too, who had opposedher marriage with Claudius, was imprisoned withsuch severity that he took refuge in self-destruction.Other executions would have followed but forthe interposition <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus. Nero,who was innocent <strong>of</strong> the murder <strong>of</strong> Silanus andhad been opposed to the punishment <strong>of</strong> Narcissus,was glad to support his two ministers, and in sodoing to satisfy his vanity by earning a reputationfor clemency and good government. Moreover,the man who had most influence with Agrippinawas the fabulously rich freedman Pallas, herparamour, whose moroseness and arrogance hadmade him universally detested. The destruction<strong>of</strong> the power <strong>of</strong> the freedmen was a preliminary
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 63step essential to the restoration <strong>of</strong> the just andhumane administration contemplated by <strong>Seneca</strong>,and so long as Agrippina remained all-powerfulthat object could not be effected.An incident that occurred before Nero hadbeen many months emperor served to showwhich side had gained the victory in this briefstruggle for power between the reformers andthe upholders <strong>of</strong> the old system. Agrippinahad been accustomed during the principate <strong>of</strong>Claudius to appear in the company <strong>of</strong> that feeblesovereign on state occasions and openly to sharehis sovereignty. Nor had she anticipated thather position in that respect would be changed forthe worse by the succession <strong>of</strong> her son to power.But one day Nero was seated on his throne andabout to receive some Armenian ambassadors,when his mother entered the audience chamberand advanced with the intention <strong>of</strong> seating herselfbeside him to share in their reception. Thoughallwho were present were indignantly consciousthat such an assessor would lower the imperialdignity in the eyes <strong>of</strong> the Armenians, <strong>Seneca</strong>alone had the courage to intervene. At hiswhispered suggestion the prince left his throneand advanced down the hall, as if out <strong>of</strong> respectto greet his mother. An excuse was then foundfor postponing the reception <strong>of</strong> the delegates, andthe scandal was averted.<strong>Seneca</strong> has been charged with ingratitude toAgrippina, to whom he owed his return fromexile and the appointment as Nero's tutor onwhich were founded his wealth and greatness.
64 SENECABut he had to choose between resistance to thepower <strong>of</strong> the empress and the abandonment<strong>of</strong> his projects <strong>of</strong> reform, and it isby no meansclear that he ought to have chosen the latter.In his treatise De Beneficiis he says that if aman has received favours from a tyrant he oughtto repay him with what benefits he can, so longas he can do so without injury to others.^ Tohave supported the cruel and corrupt influence<strong>of</strong> Agrippina would have been signally to haveviolated this condition ;while if he had retiredfrom public life, deserted Burrhus, and surrenderedhis opportunities <strong>of</strong> serving the State, he wouldnone the less have been accused <strong>of</strong> ingratitudeby Agrippina, who had counted on his activesupport.At all events the prosperity <strong>of</strong> the first fiveyears <strong>of</strong> the reign <strong>of</strong> Nero, the famous quinqiiennmmNeronis, during which the emperor,abandoning himself to his pleasures, left the wholebusiness <strong>of</strong> the State to <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus,silenced for the time the detractors <strong>of</strong> thosestatesmen. The Emperor Trajan was afterwardswont to declare that this, in his judgment, wasthe period in which the Romans enjoyed thebest government under the Empire.^ Even themalicious historian Dion Cassius, enemy thoughhe was to <strong>Seneca</strong>'s reputation, writes that thesestatesmen, once the full control <strong>of</strong> affairs hadfallen into their hands, exercised itwith a justice1 De Bene}, vii. 20.* 'Merito Trajanus saepius testatur procul differre cunctosprincipes Neronis quinquennio ' (Aurelius Victor, de Caesar, c. 5).
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 65and an ability which won for them universalapplause.^ It was something when in the strangecourse <strong>of</strong> human destiny supreme power over thecivilised world had fallen into the hands <strong>of</strong> avicious and worthless youth, not only to havesaved five years from the wreck, but even to havemade them memorable for their excellence. Thatthis feat was accomplished by <strong>Seneca</strong> cannotbe denied, though the means he employed to retainand confirm his power unquestionably needdefence.The steps taken at the end <strong>of</strong> the year (54)to repel a Parthian invasion <strong>of</strong> Armenia, andthe appointment <strong>of</strong> Corbulo, an able general,whose sole claim to promotion lay in his meritsto the chief military command there, increasedthe confidence felt in the administration, andwere taken as signs that the era <strong>of</strong> appointmentsby favour and intrigue was at an end. TheSenate wished to erect gold and silver statues tothe emperor, and to call the month <strong>of</strong> Decemberby his name, but he modestly declined thesehonours. Nor would he listen to delators whobrought accusations <strong>of</strong> disaffection against knightsand senators.The year 55, the second <strong>of</strong> the reign, wasmarked by fresh acts <strong>of</strong> a wise indulgence towhich the Romans had been unaccustomed sincethe early years <strong>of</strong> Tiberius. The young emperorpledged himself to a policy <strong>of</strong> conciliation innumerous speeches in which the world recognisedthe hand <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>. These speeches, adds Tacitus,1Dion, Ixi. 4.
66 SENECAhe put into the prince's mouth either in order todisplay his own talents or else that all might knowin what honourable principles he had trainedthe mind <strong>of</strong> his imperial pupil. Most <strong>of</strong> thehistorian's references to<strong>Seneca</strong> are marked by acertain reserve or unfriendly suggestion as <strong>of</strong> oneanxious not to be unfair yet resolved to do nomore than bare justice to a man with whom hewas out <strong>of</strong> sympathy. In this instance it wouldseem, on the face <strong>of</strong> it, at least as probable thatin interesting Nero's vanity in a reputation forclemency, and engaging him by public pr<strong>of</strong>essionsto maintain it, <strong>Seneca</strong> was acting on public groundsas that he was merely endeavouring to win applausefor himself.It was at this time that he addressed to theemperor the finely conceived and nobly expressedtreatise De dementia, the firstpart <strong>of</strong> whichhas been happily preserved to us. In this treatisethe philosopher described the emperor as not onlythe principle <strong>of</strong> unity that linked together thevast regions <strong>of</strong> the Empire, but also the mind thatdirected the huge body, the limbs <strong>of</strong> which itrestrained from mutual destruction. The republic,he said, and Caesar have so grown togetherthat they cannot be torn asunder without thedestruction <strong>of</strong> both, and the union is such that•Caesar will practise clemency to his subjects forthe same reason that a man is merciful to hisown members. Bleeding or a surgical operationmay be required, but he will shed no blood norinflict any pain that is not inevitably necessaryfor the common good. <strong>Seneca</strong> pictures the young
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 67prince serenely — contemplating the vast masses<strong>of</strong> his subjects so various in race and character,so ready for internecine strife, kept in peace onlyand thus speaking toby their common allegiance ;himself :From out the host <strong>of</strong> mortal beings I have beenchosen and thought worthy to do the work <strong>of</strong> the godsupon the earth. I have been given the power <strong>of</strong> lifeand death over all the nations. To determine thecondition and to control the destinies <strong>of</strong> every raceand <strong>of</strong> every individual is my absolute prerogative.Whatever Fortune has to give, through my work shegives it from; my rephes as from a fountain peoplesand cities draw their happiness. There is no prosperityin all the world save by my favour and allowance. Thesecountless swords, sheathed by my peace, at a sign fromme would leap from their scabbards. It is in my power,were I so minded, utterly to destroy or expatriate wholenations ;their liberties are mine to give or to withhold ;kings at my word become slaves ;the brow <strong>of</strong> whom Iwill I encircle with a diadem ;cities come into being orare lost according to my will. In this supreme positionneither anger, nor the natural impetuosity <strong>of</strong> youth,nor the foolish stubbornness <strong>of</strong> men hardly to be borneby the most patient <strong>of</strong> tempers, nor even that direambition so common in princes drawing them on todisplay their power by terror-striking acts, have evermoved me to inflict a single unjust punishment. Thehumblest blood is precious to me ; my sword lies buriedin its sheath ; if a suppliant has nothing else to plead,yet as a man he will find favour in my sight. My severityI keep concealed ; my clemency in the open and readyfor use. I have rescued the laws from the obscurityand neglect into which they had fallen, and I observethem as if I too had to render an account <strong>of</strong> my actions.I have been touched by the youth <strong>of</strong> one prisoner, by theage <strong>of</strong> another ;the rank <strong>of</strong> some, the helplessness <strong>of</strong>
68 SENECAothers, have moved me to pardon ; where no otherreason for mercy could be found, I have forgiven for thepleasure <strong>of</strong> forgiving. If this day the immortal godswere to bid me give an account <strong>of</strong> my stewardship <strong>of</strong>the human race the reckoning would show no loss. 'is true, Caesar,' replies <strong>Seneca</strong> ;'Itand you may claimwith confidence that <strong>of</strong> all the citizens entrusted toyour care not one either through open violence or secrettreachery has been lost to the commonwealth. Youronly ambition has been to be praised for the rarest—quality <strong>of</strong> all a glory vouchsafed to none <strong>of</strong> your predecessors—the glory <strong>of</strong> innocence. You have not wastedyour pains. That singular goodness <strong>of</strong> yours has notbeen valued grudingly or unwilHngly. Your subjectsare grateful indeed. No individual was ever so dearto another as you, their great and lasting treasure, areto the whole Roman people. But you have undertakena heavy task. In this first year you have given us ataste <strong>of</strong> your rule, and have set up a new standard bywhich you yourself will be judged. No one will anylonger care to remember the times <strong>of</strong> the divine Augustusor the early years <strong>of</strong> Tiberius ; you yourself have suppliedthe only model by which men will wish that you yourselfshould be guided.'No man, wrote <strong>Seneca</strong>, in one <strong>of</strong> his letters,can paint a picture though his colours are allready unless he knows exactly what it is he wishesto paint. In this picture <strong>of</strong> the innocent autocratwho, making his choice between the two greatrival forces by which men are governed, findshis strength in their love rather than in their fear,<strong>Seneca</strong> anticipated, as he <strong>of</strong>ten does, the teaching<strong>of</strong> Christianity. There may be flatteryin hiswords, but it is flattery <strong>of</strong> a noble sort and directedto a noble end. So far Nero, guided by hisministers, had really governed his subjects with
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 69justice and humanity ; and would have almostdeserved the praise he received had not thisresult been attributable rather to his aversionfrom business and love <strong>of</strong> popularity than toany worthier motive.In this second year <strong>of</strong> his reign Nero, wh<strong>of</strong>rom the first had abhorred his guiltless andunhappy wife Octavia, fell passionately in lovewith a young freedwoman named Acte. The affairwas confided to the prince's boon companions—chief among whom was Otho, afterwards emperor— and to the ministers, but was otherwise a secret.<strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus, hopeless <strong>of</strong> reconciling Neroto Octavia, regarded without displeasure his infatuationfor a good-natured girl, whose influenceinjured no one while it satisfied the dangerouspassions <strong>of</strong> her lover in a manner harmless to thecommonwealth. But <strong>Seneca</strong> carried his complaisancetoo far if it was at his suggestion thathis most intimate friend, Annaeus Serenus, captain<strong>of</strong> Nero's bodyguard, to disguise the real intrigue,played the part <strong>of</strong> Acte's lover and openly senther the presents which really came from theemperor. This artifice at first deceived Agrippina ;but she soon came to know the truth. Alwaysin extremes, she stormed, menaced, and insulted ;and then, finding her rage <strong>of</strong> no effect, passedto the most abject flattery and submission withno better success. Nero, when the discovery wasfirst made, endeavoured to conciliate her by arich present <strong>of</strong> robes and jewellery; but this shereceived with disdain, exclaiming that she hadgiven him all and he was returning her a part.
70 SENECAHer subsequent submission merely emboldenedhim to dismiss her minion Pallas from all his<strong>of</strong>fices, and openly to bring her power to an end.On this Agrippina, flinging prudence to thewinds, gave a free rein to the ungovernabletemper which she had inherited from her mother.Britannicus, she exclaimed, was now <strong>of</strong> an ageto succeed to that inheritance which her owninjustice had transferred to a usurper. Since somany crimes had been committed in vain shewould confess them all, and, since by the mercy<strong>of</strong> the gods Britannicus still lived, make reparation.She would go to the camp accompanied byBritannicus and present herself to the soldiers—bidding them choose between the pedant <strong>Seneca</strong>,who with the low-born cripple Burrhus had theaudacity to aspire to govern the world, and thedaughter <strong>of</strong> Germanicus.^ She was to find, however,that an emperor was easier to make than tounmake.To the unfortunate Britannicus her supportproved even more disastrous than her hostility.Nero's latent jealousy and suspicion had alreadybeen roused to activity by an incident which hadoccurred during the Saturnalia <strong>of</strong> the precedingDecember. There was a game played by Romanboys consisting in the choice <strong>of</strong> a ' king ' by lot,whose commands, whatever they might be, therest were obliged one by one to obey. On thisoccasion the lot fell on Nero, and to exposeBritannicus to ridicule he ordered him to standin the middle and sing a song. The boy obeyed ;*Tac. Ann. xiii. 14.
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 71and sang in so pathetic a manner the misfortunes<strong>of</strong> one who had been driven from his father'shouse and despoiled <strong>of</strong> his inheritance, that hemoved all his hearers to compassion.Agrippina was doubtless aware <strong>of</strong> her son'ssuspicions when she threatened him with the rivalry<strong>of</strong> Britannicus ;but she does not seem to haveanticipated their natural result in that prince'sdestruction. Such, however, it proved. The ministrations<strong>of</strong> Locusta— the recognised Court—poisonerwere again employed ; and Britannicus waspoisoned at a banquet in the presence <strong>of</strong> Neroand his Court. The wine, tried by his taster,was designedly so heated that he called for waterto cool it, and in the water thus added to hisdrink a deadly poison was administered. Sorapid was its effect that he fell back instantlydeprived <strong>of</strong> sense. A thrill <strong>of</strong> horror ranthrough the company. The more imprudentdispersed others better advised remained seated;and looked fixedly at Nero for their cue. Hewith an air <strong>of</strong> indifference remarked thatBritannicus had from his infancy been subjectto such fits and that he would soon be better.There was a short silence, and then the feastproceeded as if nothing had happened. Theterror and consternation visible in the countenance<strong>of</strong> Agrippina served to convince all present thatshe was as innocent <strong>of</strong> complicity in the murderas Octavia herself, who in spite <strong>of</strong> her extremeyouth had been taught by adversity to concealevery symptom <strong>of</strong> feehng. In the same night theashes <strong>of</strong> Britannicus were hurriedly buried in the
72 SENECACampus Martius— all preparations having beenmade beforehand. In a subsequent edict Nerodefended these hasty obsequies and the omission<strong>of</strong> the usual funeral speeches and ceremonies bya reference to ancient usage ; and, bewailing theloss <strong>of</strong> his brother's support, expressed his reliance,as the last <strong>of</strong> a family born to Empire, on theenhanced devotion <strong>of</strong> Senate and people. Theestate <strong>of</strong> Britannicus, his houses, and villas, weredivided by the emperor among the gravest andmost honoured <strong>of</strong> his own friends, with the object,itwas thought, <strong>of</strong> binding them to acquiescence.It would not have been safe to refuse the imperialgifts,but the conduct <strong>of</strong> such men as <strong>Seneca</strong> andBurrhus in accepting them did not escapeanimadversion }No presents, however, could s<strong>of</strong>ten the anger<strong>of</strong> Agrippina. Her friends were admitted tosecret interviews ;she raised money from everyquarter ; she caressed Octavia ;she made courtto the soldiers ;and extolled the qualities <strong>of</strong>certain <strong>of</strong> the chief among the nobility as thoughshe were seeking a leader for her party. Whenthe news <strong>of</strong> these proceedings reached Nero heand re-retaliated by discharging her bodyguardmoving her from the palace to another house,where, always accompanied by a large body <strong>of</strong>centurions, he made her a few brief and formalvisits.Agrippina's enemies now thoughtthat their^Tac. Ann. xiii. i8 : 'Nee defuere, qui arguerent virosgravitatem asseverantes, quod domos, villas, id temporis, quasipraedam divisissent.'
THE QUINQUENNIUM NERONIS 73her inti-time had come. Junia Silana, formerlymate friend and her rival in race, in beauty, and inwantonness, but whose friendship had been turnedby a private quarrel into hatred, devised a plotfor her ruin. Two clients <strong>of</strong> Silana, Iturius andCalvisius, agreed to accuse the empress-mother <strong>of</strong>a plot to overthrow Nero and to marry RubelliusPlautus, a descendant through his mother <strong>of</strong>Augustus, whom she would at the same timeplace on the throne. An actorc ailed Paris, afavourite minister <strong>of</strong> Nero's pleasures, was chosento reveal the pretended conspiracy.Late one night, when the emperor was heavywith wine, Paris entered his apartment withtragic countenance and told his story. Thefirst impulse <strong>of</strong> the terrified Nero was to giveorder for the immediate execution <strong>of</strong> his motherand Plautus, but he was dissuaded from doingso by Burrhus and <strong>Seneca</strong>, who pointed out theflimsy nature <strong>of</strong> the evidence against Agrippinaand the injustice <strong>of</strong> condemning her unheard.The next morning <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus proceededto her house to inquire into the matter,when she defended herself with spirit and success,and demanded an audience <strong>of</strong> her son. Thiswas granted and; completed the discomfiture<strong>of</strong> her opponents. Agrippina knew her sonwell. Disdaining to defend herself or to remindhim <strong>of</strong> hisobligations, she boldly denouncedher accusers and demanded redress. Nero, whowas as cowardly as he was cruel and treacherous,feared those who defied him, and was accustomedto submit to his imperious mother. He
74 SENECApromisedall she asked. Silana was exiled forlife ;Calvisius and Iturius for a term <strong>of</strong> years.Paris could not be spared and was forgiven.On this occasion, at least, <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhusrescued their former patroness from urgentdanger.
CHAPTER VIISENECA IN POWERThe two following years (56 and 57) were quietand uneventful. Peace reigned throughout theEmpire, while in Rome the Senate, to which apart <strong>of</strong> its former authority had been restored,was occupied in legislative work, especially inconnection with the administration <strong>of</strong> therevenue, which was transferred from the quaestors,to whom it had been entrusted by Claudius,to prefects who had served as praetors, andwere men <strong>of</strong> longer experience. The decayingcolonies <strong>of</strong> Capua and Nuceria were assistedby the introduction <strong>of</strong> new drafts <strong>of</strong> veteransand by subsidies. The Roman import dutyon slaves was remitted ;but this, observesTacitus, was found to be a boon rather in appearancethan in reality to the importer, sincehe had already succeeded in transferring thetax to the consumer by adding it to his price.^The provincial cities in Italy and elsewherein the Empire enjoyed at this time analmost complete system <strong>of</strong> self-government. Their*Ann. xiii. 31 : 'Quia, cum venditor pendere juberetur, inpartem pretii emptoribus accrescebat/
76 SENECAinstitutions had been modelled on those <strong>of</strong> republicanRome, and unlike those <strong>of</strong> Rome hadendured in reality as well as in name. Of municipalmagistrates the duumviri, answering tothe consuls, presided over the municipal senateand exercised judicial powers ;the aediles werein charge <strong>of</strong> works and buildings and <strong>of</strong> thepolice ; while the quaestors administered therevenue. These magistrates were all elected bythe people,^ and were expected by public opinionto show their sense <strong>of</strong> the honour conferredupon them by a gift to their city. Aqueducts,roads, temples, theatres were habitually presentedto their fellow-citizens by magistratesduring their term <strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice. Thus the labour <strong>of</strong>the community was directed to public and notto private uses by those to whom the possession<strong>of</strong> money had given the power <strong>of</strong> choosing itsdirection, and great prosperity was the result.'The whole world is full,' wrote the rhetoricianAristides under the Antonines, ' <strong>of</strong> gymnasia,fountains, porticoes, temples, workshops, andschools ... all the towns are radiant with eleganceand splendour, and the land has becomeone vast garden.'In Rome itself all was not so well. Theadministration was, it is true, well conducted by<strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus, to whom the emperor leftthe whole business <strong>of</strong> government. But the detestablecharacter <strong>of</strong> the degenerate aesthete onthe throne began so early as the year 56 to makeitself felt. The public atrocities which followed*The suffrage was universal and the elections by ballot.
SENECA IN POWERhis personal assumption <strong>of</strong> the government wereforeshadowed by the crimes and extravagancesby which his private Hfe was aheady stained.His favourite nocturnal amusement at this timewas to sally forth disguised from his palace intothe streets,^^accompanied by his boon companions,whom he would cause to attack those whomthey met, insult women, break open doors, andplunder shops. Sometimes the people attacked,not recognising their assailant, would defendthemselves vigorously ;and the marks <strong>of</strong> theirfists would be visible on the emperor's face thenext day; so, to avoid such accidents for thefuture, he directed a body <strong>of</strong> gladiators to followhim at a distance, and to use their weapons ifmatters became serious. When it became knownthat Caesar was the hero <strong>of</strong> these nocturnalexpeditions his example was followed by others,whose objects were more practical, and who usedhis name to secure their booty ; until, accordingto the historian, Rome at night came to resemblea captured city given over to plunder. Hisencouragement <strong>of</strong> faction fights in the theatreswas scarcely less mischievous.These years marked the high tide <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'sprosperity.'that time,'<strong>Seneca</strong>,' wrote the elder Pliny <strong>of</strong>than whom no man was ever lessbeguiled by appearances, was then the prince <strong>of</strong>learning and at the summit <strong>of</strong> that power bywhich he was afterwards overwhelmed.' ^ The*Pliny, NM. xiv. 4 :'Novissime Annaeo <strong>Seneca</strong>, principe turneruditionis ac potentiae quae postremo nimia fuit super ipsum,minima utique miratore inanium.'
78 SENECAmost powerful statesman was atthe same timethe most admired writer <strong>of</strong> the day. His speeches,treatises, and poetry were in everybody's hands.The rising generation, says Quintihan, wouldscarcely read any other author,* and the concoction<strong>of</strong> epigrams and aphorisms (sententiae) afterhis manner became the literary fashion.His nephew Lucan, son <strong>of</strong> the prudent Mela,was the most brilliant <strong>of</strong> the poets <strong>of</strong> the newschool. After other more conventional essaysin poetry he published, while still under twentyfiveyears <strong>of</strong> age, the first part <strong>of</strong> an epic poemon the civil wars, written on a completely new plan.Boldly discarding the whole <strong>of</strong> the supernaturalmachinery <strong>of</strong> Olympus, considered ever since thedays <strong>of</strong> Homer an indispensable adjunct to anepic, he described events and characters withwhat historical accuracy his researches couldsupply. He had no respect for remote antiquity—^—'famosa vetustas miratrixque stn ' the stirringscenes <strong>of</strong> the century which preceded his own<strong>of</strong>fered material enough for his rushing, impetuousrhetoric. Why blunt its force and lose all theinterest attaching to the connection betweencharacter and events by invoking the interposition<strong>of</strong> shadowy beings in whom his readershad ceased to believe ?Keenly interested inthe world as itappeared to him amid the strife<strong>of</strong> men, and a violent partisan, he was, like Byron,<strong>of</strong> too passionate a nature, and lived too muchin the present to find time for subjective musings,^Quint. X. I 'Turn autem solus hie fere in manibus:*adolescentium fuit.'Phars. iv. 654-5.
SENECA IN POWER 79for the wonder and pathos <strong>of</strong> Virgil, or the widesurmise <strong>of</strong> Lucretius. He had, as QuintiHan observed,the temperament rather <strong>of</strong> an orator than<strong>of</strong> a poet.^ The romance <strong>of</strong> reahty, the picture<strong>of</strong> a rudderless world and <strong>of</strong> the interaction <strong>of</strong>events and character, for the first time — challengedthe ruling idea <strong>of</strong> every previous epic the ideathat men were but irresponsible puppets movedby divine agencies which the seer's eyes werealone strong enough to detect. The <strong>Seneca</strong>s werea daring race <strong>of</strong> innovators who held Olympus inscanty respect.I am not such a fool [wrote <strong>Seneca</strong> in one <strong>of</strong> hisletters] as to repeat the old soothing lullabies <strong>of</strong> Epicurus,and to tell you that the fear <strong>of</strong> hell is vain, that no Ixionis bound to a revolving wheel, that the shoulder <strong>of</strong>Sisyphus rolls no stone up the hill, that no entrailscan be devoured and restored every day. No one ischildish enough to fear Cerberus and the darkness and theghostly appearance <strong>of</strong> spirits clinging to their skeletons.Death either consumes us or frees us. If we escape,better things await us when we have laid down ourburden ;if we are consumed, nothing remains.^Lucan, in the course <strong>of</strong> the extravagant complimentto Nero which disfigures the first book<strong>of</strong> the ' Pharsalia,' declares that the worship <strong>of</strong>allthe other gods has been rendered superfluousat Rome by the presence <strong>of</strong> that amiable prince;and entreats him, when he takes his final leave<strong>of</strong> earth, to take up his position well in the centre* Inst. Ovat. X. i. 90; ' Lucanus ardens et concitatus etsententiis clarissimus et, ut dicam quod sentio, raagis oratoribusquam poetis imitandus.**Ep. 24.
8o<strong>of</strong> heaven lestSENECAthe balance <strong>of</strong> the universe shouldbe imperilled. In the later and republican part<strong>of</strong> the poem he contrasts in a famous line thetriumphant injustice <strong>of</strong> the gods with the defeatedvirtue <strong>of</strong> Cato.^And we know that Gallio caredfor none <strong>of</strong> these things.Nero was himself a poet as well as a painter, asculptor, a musician, and a singer. His first stepon acceding to the principate was to summonto the palace Terpnus, the most celebrated luteplayer<strong>of</strong> the day, in whose companyhe wouldspend half the day and half the night listeningto his performances and receiving his instructions.Lucan, too, the nephew <strong>of</strong> the chief minister,was at first in high favour. Nero recalled himfrom Athens, where he was finishing his education,admitted him to the company <strong>of</strong> his intimatefriends, and made him quaestor. But Lucan'spoetic success afterwards excited the emperor'sjealousy who probably also disapproved <strong>of</strong> his;disregard for the traditional rules <strong>of</strong> composition.The first publication <strong>of</strong> poems in Rome consistedin their recitation by the author to an invitedcompany <strong>of</strong> friends.^ One day when Nero waspresent at a recitation by Lucan <strong>of</strong> a newly composedpoem he affected to be weary, and suddenlyleft the room without waiting for the end. Thiswas an insult the sensitive poet could not forgive.He revenged himself by lampoons and epigramsdirected against the emperor and his friends, who^i. 128 :'Victrix causa dels placuit, sed victa Catoni.'2Attendance on such occasions was an imperative socialobligation, which became to many a nuisance almost intolerable.
SENECA IN POWER8iretaliated by forbidding him either to recite orto pubUsh any further poems. Nothing couldhave been thought <strong>of</strong> more calculated to mortifyand enrage a young author intoxicated by hispopularity and his public and private triumphs.It was then that he wrote the last part <strong>of</strong> thePharsalia,' with its stinging attacks on the'imperial system and its exaltation <strong>of</strong> the heroes<strong>of</strong> the republic.One result <strong>of</strong> the quarrel between Nero andLucan was the attack directed on the new schoolby writers connected with the Court. Conspicuousamong these was Petronius, the leader <strong>of</strong> Nero'sdissolute friends, the arbiter <strong>of</strong> fashion, an artistin luxury, a man for whose judgment in suchmatters the emperor had so high a respect thathe thought no diversion agreeable or refined untilPetronius had stamped it with the hall-mark <strong>of</strong>his approval. In a kind <strong>of</strong> picaresque characternovel,unique <strong>of</strong> its kind in surviving Latin literature,Petronius introduced an old poet calledEumolpus, very much out-at-elbows, to plead thecause <strong>of</strong> classical tradition against new methods.Eumolpus complains that in these degeneratetimes, when a man has learnt the art <strong>of</strong> makingglittering epigrams in the schools <strong>of</strong> rhetoricand proved a failure at the Bar, he turns to thecomposition <strong>of</strong> poetry as to a haven <strong>of</strong> rest andenjoyment. Yet really to be a poet he should besteeped in literature, he must avoid all popularor hackneyed diction, his epigrams must notstand out abrupt and disconnected from thebody <strong>of</strong> his discourse, but be woven with
82 SENECAconcealed art into the texture <strong>of</strong> the material theyadorn. Homer and Virgil, and Horace with hisexquisite ielicity— curiosa felicitas—prove this.For instance [he adds, in direct allusion to the'Pharsalia '],a man who should be daring enough toundertake to sing <strong>of</strong> the Civil War without being in thecentral current <strong>of</strong> literature will sink under the burden.We do not want him to tell us what really happened ;historians will do that far better. The poet shouldlead us rapidly hither and thither ;he should not hesitateto use his invention or to have recourse to the intervention<strong>of</strong> the gods, so that we may rather gain the impression<strong>of</strong> a soul not mistress <strong>of</strong> herself but inspired by a divinefrenzy than <strong>of</strong> a witness giving his careful evidence ina court <strong>of</strong> justice.^Eumolpus proceeds to illustrate his meaningby reciting 295 verses <strong>of</strong> his own composition,in which he had rewritten the opening section<strong>of</strong> the ' Pharsalia ' accordingmethod. The gods <strong>of</strong> Olympusto the traditionalare introduced;and more or less direct events. Venus, Mercury,and Mars are on the side <strong>of</strong> Caesar ; Apollo,Diana, Hercules, and Mercury are Pompeians.But the only result <strong>of</strong> the isexperiment to convincethe reader how right Lucan was to dispense withthis antiquated machinery, especially in a subjectso modern; how superfluous in accounting forthe motives <strong>of</strong> the various actors in the dramais the hypothesis <strong>of</strong> divine suggestion ; and howthe human interest <strong>of</strong> theby that hypothesisstory is diminished.The attack on the schools <strong>of</strong> rhetoric in thefirst chapter <strong>of</strong> what is left to us <strong>of</strong> the book ismore effective. A sensible protest is there made»Sat. 118.
SENECA IN POWER 83against the emptiness <strong>of</strong> the teaching in suchplaces.The themes <strong>of</strong> declamation, the writerdeclares, are ridiculous and impossible the ;goodliterature <strong>of</strong> the pastis entirely neglected the;great object is to achieve smartness <strong>of</strong> phrase andan appearance <strong>of</strong> brilliancy however unrelated thesemay be to the realities <strong>of</strong> life ;the whole is neglectedfor the parts: in fact, he concludes, so soon aseloquence began to be studied as an art and taughtby rule <strong>of</strong> thumb, men ceased to be eloquent—just as a man who spends much time in the kitchenwill not be savoury. Whatever takes the fancy<strong>of</strong> boys is unlikely to be really fine, yet it isexactly that which is most admired and studiedin the schools. Quintilian said the same thing<strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> when he expressed his regret that onewho could do all that he pleased should so <strong>of</strong>tenthrough lack <strong>of</strong> judgment be pleased to do whatwas not worth doing, for that ifjudgment hadbeen added to his other gifts, instead <strong>of</strong> being thedelight <strong>of</strong> boys he might have won the approval<strong>of</strong> men <strong>of</strong> taste.^The year 58 was illustrated by the victories<strong>of</strong> Corbulo over the Parthians in Armenia. Thesuccesses <strong>of</strong> this able commander, who had restoredthe almost ruined discipline <strong>of</strong> the forces underhis command, were recognised by the Senate aftertheir usual manner in decrees for statues andtriumphal arches to the emperor under whoseauspices they were achieved. In the same year<strong>Seneca</strong> incurred a certain degree <strong>of</strong> unpopularityin connection with the trial and condemnation<strong>of</strong> Publius Suilius.This man had been a notable^Quintilian, x. i.
84 SENECAinformer under Claudius, and the chief instrument<strong>of</strong> Messalina's cruelty. He it was who, at theinstance <strong>of</strong> the Court, brought the charges whichproved fatal to Julia, daughter <strong>of</strong> Drusus, ValeriusAsiaticus, Lupus, and many others. He had, infact, been the Fouquier Tinville <strong>of</strong> the worst years<strong>of</strong> Claudius ;and as such was particularly odiousto the humane <strong>Seneca</strong> to whom the death <strong>of</strong> noRoman citizen during his term, <strong>of</strong> power has beenimputed by any historian. After the death <strong>of</strong>Claudius and the change <strong>of</strong> system, Suilius showedno penitence for his misdeeds— preferring, saysTacitus, the reputation <strong>of</strong> a criminal to the attitude<strong>of</strong> a suppliant. In the year 58 he was prosecutedunder the lex Cincia for having acceptedfees as an advocate beyond the legal limit. Thecharge itself was unfair, for the law was obsoleteand had been habitually disregarded but his;adversaries were resolved that Suilius should notaltogether escape the penalty <strong>of</strong> his misdeeds, andtheir impatience would not suffer them to awaitthe issue <strong>of</strong> the indictment for peculation andoppression in his government <strong>of</strong> Asia which, alsoto diffi-brought against him, could not, owingculties in collecting evidence, be proceeded withfor a year. Suilius, in no wise abashed, retortedby accusations against <strong>Seneca</strong> which, reportedby Tacitus, and repeated with amplifications byDion or his abbreviator, Xiphilinus, have been acceptedwith too ready a credence by later historians.<strong>Seneca</strong> [he said], who had been most justly exiledby Claudius, could never forgive that prince's friends.He had passed his life in futile controversies that amused
SENECA IN POWER 85the inexperience <strong>of</strong> youth and was envious <strong>of</strong> those who;had kept burning the torch <strong>of</strong> Hving and uncorruptedeloquence in the defence <strong>of</strong> their fellow-citizens. He(Suilius) had been quaestor to Germanicus ;but <strong>Seneca</strong>had stained the honour <strong>of</strong> that prince's house. Was itworse to accept a fee for honourable work from a clientwho was ready to give it, or to corrupt the virtue <strong>of</strong> royalwomen ? Was it virtue and the maxims <strong>of</strong> philosophythat taught him to accumulate so vast a fortune infour years <strong>of</strong> Court favour ? At Rome he had drawnin legacies as with a net ;the provinces were exhaustedbyhis usuries.The language <strong>of</strong> the old accuser was reportedto <strong>Seneca</strong> v^ith exaggerations, and did not inclinehim to indulgence. The trial was pressed on, andconducted before the emperor himself. Suiliuspleaded that all he did was by order <strong>of</strong> Claudius,but Nero interrupted him to say that he hadascertained from his father's notes that no accusationhad been commanded by him. Then Suiliusalleged the commands <strong>of</strong> Messalina, but wasasked why he alone was chosen to give his voiceand services to the tyrant? In the end a part<strong>of</strong> his goods was confiscated, and he himselfbanished to the Balearic islands, where he isto have passed the remainder <strong>of</strong> his lifesaidin greatcomfort. His son Nerulinus, who was shortlyafterwards prosecuted, was acquitted at the instance<strong>of</strong> the emperor. <strong>Seneca</strong> has been chargedwith vindictiveness on this occasion, yetif timesand circumstances are taken into account, we mayrather wonder at the mildness <strong>of</strong> the vengeancewhich a powerful minister thoughtit sufficient toexact from such an adversary.
CHAPTER VIIIthe tragedy <strong>of</strong> baiae. institution <strong>of</strong> the'juvenalia: 59The power <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, whose position had beenin some degree shaken by the attacks <strong>of</strong> Suilius,was threatened at about the same time by amore formidable antagonist. Poppaea Sabina,and intelli-beautiful, charming, nobly born, rich,gent, concealed beneath a modest exterior a coldheart, a calculating disposition, and a total lack<strong>of</strong> scruple. She was married to the brilliant anddissipated Otho, one <strong>of</strong> the chief friends <strong>of</strong> Neroand ornaments <strong>of</strong> his Court, after having beendivorced from a former husband, Crispinus. Otho,whether from imprudence or ambition, vauntedthe charms <strong>of</strong> his wife to the emperor, and would<strong>of</strong>ten, when about to rejoin her after dining at thepalace, describe in glowing terms the happinessto which he was returning. The natural resultfollowed.Poppaea was presented to Nero, and atfirst affected to be deeply smitten by his beautywhile awed by his greatness. But when theemperor proceeded to make her his addressesshe changed her tone, spoke <strong>of</strong> her duty to Otho,and contrasted that courtier's liberality and
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 87magnificence with the poorness <strong>of</strong> spirit shownin Nero's devotion to Acte the freedwoman, withwhom she scorned to enter into competition.Otho was banished from the Court and in somedanger <strong>of</strong> his Ufe, but finally Nero, through theinterposition <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, sent him out as governorto Lusitania, where, like Petronius in Bithynia, heproved by the excellence <strong>of</strong> his administrationthat his extravagance and debauchery in Romehad been due rather to the lack <strong>of</strong> any morerational cutlet for his activity than to a viciousdisposition. That he was capable <strong>of</strong> magnanimityhe showed in the last scene <strong>of</strong> his life ;and hisfriendship for <strong>Seneca</strong>, <strong>of</strong> which Plutarch speaks,stands to his credit.^There were many complaints in this year <strong>of</strong>the rapacity and injustice <strong>of</strong> the farmers <strong>of</strong> thetaxes ;and in consequence the total abolition<strong>of</strong> customs duties was seriously debated in Nero'sCouncil. This drastic proposal having beenabandoned other measures were taken. In orderto secure that no more moneythan was needed for public purposes,should be raisedan edict wasissued that the nature <strong>of</strong> each tax and the principleson which it was collected, which had hithertobeen kept secret, should be published by thetax-gatherers, and that no demand should bemade later than a year after a tax had becomedue. In the assessment <strong>of</strong> a merchant's possessionsfor purposes <strong>of</strong> taxation, his ships were not^He remained for ten years governor <strong>of</strong> Lusitania, returningin 68 for the stormy three months' reign which was ended by hisdefeat and death. Tac. Ann. xiii. 45 ; Suet. Otho, 3.
88 SENECAto be taken into account. Observance <strong>of</strong> theseexcellent provisions did not long outlast the power<strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus.The following year (59) brought with it thedefinite emancipation <strong>of</strong> Nero, and the consequentdecline <strong>of</strong> good government. Although theemperor hated his mother, although he exercisedhis ingenuity to contrive mortifications for herto the point <strong>of</strong> hiring bravoes to shout insultsfrom their boats as they sailed past her villa onthe Campanian coast, he could never overcomethe awe with which she inspired him, and whenshe met him face to face she could always bendhim to submission. Agrippina was therefore anobstacle to the ambitious designs <strong>of</strong> Poppaea,who knew that while she lived Nero would neverdare to discard Octavia and marry herself.Scandalous rumours were abroad and widelycredited, that Agrippina was endeavouring topreserve her power by inviting her son to incest ;while a minority declared that the horriblesuggestion proceeded from Nero himself. In anycase Acte, prompted by <strong>Seneca</strong>, brought theserumours to the notice <strong>of</strong> the emperor, with theintimation that ifthey gained credit among thesoldiers there would be a mutiny.Nero, greatlyalarmed and already moved by the persistenttaunts <strong>of</strong> Poppaea, resolved to rid himself <strong>of</strong> hismother ; and, his first attempts to poison her havingbeen foiled by the precautionary measures <strong>of</strong> theexperienced empress, cast about for other means.Anicetus, a freedman in command <strong>of</strong> the fleetat Misenum and an enemy <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, suggested
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 89the expedient that was adopted. He <strong>of</strong>fered tosupply a vessel so constructed that at a givensignal the ro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> the principal cabin mightbe made to fall in, and the ship itself to sinkthrough the opening <strong>of</strong> a hole in the bottom.The contrivance being approved, Nero wrote aletter to his mother couched in terms <strong>of</strong> humilityand submission, in which he prayed for a reconciliation,and invited her to meet him at Baiae.Agrippina went rejoicing, was received withloving effusion, nobly entertained, placed aboveher son at table, treated at first with the affectionatelightness, ease, and familiarity natural to ayoung man in conversation with his mother, andafterwards to her yet greater satisfaction gravelyconsulted on matters <strong>of</strong> State, until the hour cameat last for her departure. Then Nero embracedher with extraordinary warmth, and seemed unableto detach his gaze from her countenance.It was a fine starlight night, and the sea wascalm when Agrippina went on board the gailydecorated ship that had been prepared for her.She was sitting in her cabin with a maid andGallus, one <strong>of</strong> her suite, when, soon after the shiphad left the harbour, part <strong>of</strong> the ceiling fell inand crushed Gallus to death. The empress andher attendant, Acerronia, however escapedallhurt ; and, the mechanism through which aleak was to have been simultaneously sprunghaving failed to act, those <strong>of</strong> the sailors whowere in the secret endeavoured to capsize theboat by bringing all weight to bear on one side.Agrippina and Acerronia were thrown into the sea,
90 SENECAwhere Acerronia either attempted to save herselfat her mistress's expense, or else her mistressat her own— it must ever be doubtful which— bycrying out that she was the empress, and callingfor help for the emperor's mother. Thereuponshe was beaten to death by the oars <strong>of</strong> the sailors.Agrippina swam for her life, and was rescued by aboat from the shore. Returned to her villa, reflectionon the circumstances convinced her boththat a crime had been attempted and that shemust conceal her suspicions. She therefore senta messenger to Nero to inform him <strong>of</strong> the gravedanger she had been in, and to relieve his anxietyon her account by the assurance that, except fora slight blow on the shoulder, she had sustainedno injury. She begged him not to come to herfor the present, though she knew his impulsewould be to come, for what she needed most <strong>of</strong>all for her recovery was complete rest and quiet.Nero was terrified by the news that his attemptHis guilty imagination pictured thehad failed.daughter <strong>of</strong> Germanicus full <strong>of</strong> rage, rousing thesoldiers, arming slaves, and proclaiming herwrongs to Senate and people. He sent for <strong>Seneca</strong>and Burrhus, told them all that had happened,and asked their advice. They had none to give.But Anicetus was not at the end <strong>of</strong> his resources.He had already contrived to slip a dagger betweenthe feet <strong>of</strong> Agrippina's messenger while he wasperforming his commission. The man was seized,accused <strong>of</strong> having been sent by Agrippina toassassinate the emperor, and promptly executed.Anicetus now proposed to slay the empress in her
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 91villa, and to give oxit that she had destroyedherself on hearing that her plot to take herson's life had failed. Nero eagerly agreed to thisproposal, and the deed was done.Matricide, even in the Rome <strong>of</strong> the first century,was thought an enormous crime ;and Nerodreaded the effect <strong>of</strong> the news on public opinion.Had his first contrivance proved successful andthe death <strong>of</strong> Agrippina seemed the result <strong>of</strong> anaccident at sea, it had been his intention to expresssorrow for her loss and to honour her memory inthe customary manner with altars and temples.As it was he knew not what to expect, and wasappalled by a sense <strong>of</strong> the magnitude <strong>of</strong> a crimewhich, had itpassed unsuspected by others, wouldhave probably given his seared conscience nouneasiness. But the next morning he was encouragedby the flattery <strong>of</strong> the military <strong>of</strong>ficers,who came at the suggestion <strong>of</strong> Burrhus, to congratulatehim on his escape from the dagger <strong>of</strong>Agrippina's emissary. The neighbouring towns<strong>of</strong> Campania followed suit by sending delegatesto felicitate the emperor and by <strong>of</strong>fering sacrifices<strong>of</strong> thanksgiving in their temples. Nero himselfaffected, out <strong>of</strong> grief for his mother's loss, almostto regret his own escape but he could no;longerendure the sight <strong>of</strong> Baiae and came to Naples, fromwhich place he sent a letter to the Senate composedfor him by <strong>Seneca</strong>. In this letter, after relatinghow one <strong>of</strong> Agrippina's confidential freedmenhad been surprised in his presence armed with adagger, and how the empress on the miscarriage<strong>of</strong> her attempt against his life had taken her own,
92 SENECAhe proceeded to an indictment <strong>of</strong> the whole <strong>of</strong>his mother's career. He dwelt on the atrocities<strong>of</strong> the reign <strong>of</strong> Claudius, and insinuated her responsibilityfor them he; recalled her ambitionto be his colleague in the Empire and to receivein his company the oath <strong>of</strong> allegiance and;asserted that on her failure to achieve this objectshe had opposedall donatives to soldiers or people.He was obliged, he added, to recognise, howevergreat his natural grief for her loss might be,that her death was a public benefit.^ The letterdeceived nobody. No one could believe thatthe wreck was an accident or that Agrippinawould have been mad enough to send a singleindividual to attack the emperor in the midst <strong>of</strong>his guards. The character <strong>of</strong> Nero was alreadyso well known that no fresh infamy on his partcould any longer cause surprise but the composition<strong>of</strong> the letter by <strong>Seneca</strong> was the subject ;<strong>of</strong>hostile criticism, and was not only regarded at thetime by his enemies as an avowal <strong>of</strong> complicityin the murder, but has weighed more heavily onother incidenthis memory ever since than anyin his career. Yet that <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus werethe accomplices or advisers <strong>of</strong> Nero's plot tomurder his mother is in a high degree improbable;it is unlike all we know <strong>of</strong> their characters ;and, as the event proved, such advice would have^In this letter occurred the ingenious phrase afterwardsquoted by QuintiUan as an example <strong>of</strong> a form <strong>of</strong> the senientia :'Facit quasdam sententias sola geminatio qualis est <strong>Seneca</strong>e:in eo scripto quod Nero ad Senatum misit occisa matre, cum se" Salvum me esse adhuc nee credopericlitatum videri vellet :nee gaudeo " ' (Quint, viii. 5),
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 93been as unwise from the standpoint <strong>of</strong> their owninterests as wicked from every other. After thedeed had been done, <strong>Seneca</strong> probably convincedhimself that there was nothing better to do thanto make the best <strong>of</strong> a bad situation, and that if todesert his post, to abandon Burrhus, and to leavethe Empire to the mercies <strong>of</strong> Nero would be anunpatriotic course, the only alternative was, notto condone the crime, but to deny that a crime'had been committed. What better pro<strong>of</strong> cana man give <strong>of</strong> devotion to virtue,' he wrote in*one <strong>of</strong> his letters, than a readiness to sacrificereputation itself for conscience' sake ? ' ^Yet whenall is said, the letter to the Senate remains <strong>of</strong> allthe recorded actions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> the least defensible.Nero might have spared himself anxiety withregard to the Senate. The chief preoccupation<strong>of</strong> that assembly at this crisis was to show theunqualified nature <strong>of</strong> their submission to theautocrat. Decrees were passed for thanksgivingsto the gods at every shrine for the annual cele-;bration <strong>of</strong> the day on which the supposed plothad been frustrated ;and for the erection <strong>of</strong> agolden statue to Minerva to be placed next tothat <strong>of</strong> the prince in the senate-house. ThraseaPaetus, who up to that time had acquiesced insilence or in a few formal words to decrees passedin honour <strong>of</strong> Nero, refused further compliance and,decHning to assent to these new compliments onsuch an occasion, withdrew from the senate-house,'to which he but seldom returned. His action,'observes Tacitus drily,'1Ep. 81.though full<strong>of</strong> danger to
94 SENECAhimself was <strong>of</strong> no service to the cause <strong>of</strong> hberty.'*Nor were the people to be outdone in theirmanifestations <strong>of</strong> loyalty to the prince — a loyaltywhich with them was not wholly feigned, forNero's lavish bounties, his shows, and popularmanners had made him a favourite with the mob,while Agrippina, on the other hand, had been veryunpopular. When, therefore, after an unusuallylong stay in Campania, he nerved himself toreturn to Rome, he was received with an enthusiasmwhich far surpassed his most sanguinehopes, and made a triumphant entry into the city.This experience convinced him that he might dowhat he would with impunity and from this;time forward he gave free play to the boundlessintemperance <strong>of</strong> his vicious will.Nero was inordinately vain <strong>of</strong> his voice and <strong>of</strong>his performances on the lute. That his musicalgenius should be universally recognised was hischief ambition, and he longed to appear on thepublic stage there to win applause such as hadbeen given to no other performer. He was wontto justify his passion for song and music by theexample <strong>of</strong> a god honoured not only in Greecebut in Rome, with whom the poets <strong>of</strong> his timenever wearied <strong>of</strong> comparing him.^ And song, he*In making this remark the historian may have had in mindhis own contrasted conduct under the tyranny <strong>of</strong> Domitian,during which he continued to attend the Senate and with bitternessin his heart shared in all its degradation.• 'Senec. Apoc. lUe mihi similis vultu : similisque decore.Nee cantu nee voce minor.' Lucan, Phars. i. 48-50 'Seu te flammiferosPhoebi transcendere currus, Telluremque, nihil : mutatosole timentem, Igne vago lustrare juvat.' Cf. also eclogues inAnthologia Latina <strong>of</strong> Riese, 725 and 726.
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 95would argue with some justice, is nothing withoutan audience.^ But Phoebus was not only thegod <strong>of</strong> music, he was the charioteer <strong>of</strong> the sun ;and here also he was followed by the emperor.For Nero's second passion was the management<strong>of</strong> horses in chariots ;his skill in which he wasalmost as anxious to exhibit to the public as thebeauty <strong>of</strong> his voice. While, however, his motherlived he shrank from degrading the majesty <strong>of</strong> theCaesars by the self-exposure involved in publicexhibitions. He hated Agrippina, but he dreadedher contempt.^After the death <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, <strong>Seneca</strong> andBurrhus found it impossible longer to resist theprince's inclinations. In the hope, therefore, thatby a compromise they might satisfy his vanitywhile averting a public scandal, they caused aspace <strong>of</strong> level ground at the foot <strong>of</strong> the Palatinehill to be enclosed on which Nero might exhibithis skill as a charioteer to a selected audience.But vanity, like jealousy, is a passion that makesthe meat it feeds on ;and the only effect on Nero<strong>of</strong> the applause <strong>of</strong> his friends was to make himhunger for a larger circle <strong>of</strong> spectators.Barrierswere cast aside and the Roman people invitedto the spectacle.The populace, delighted to see^'Suet. Nero, 20 :Jactans occultae musicae nullum esserespectum.'^It has been thought remarkable, and a pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> their hardness<strong>of</strong> heart, that the Romans were more shocked by Nero's stageperformances than by his cruelties or debaucheries. But if weconsider what would have been the effect in modern times onthe minds <strong>of</strong> their subjects <strong>of</strong> the appearance <strong>of</strong> a German or aRussian emperor on the public stage <strong>of</strong> the opera in femalecostume we shall feel less surprise.
96 SENECAtheir emperor personally contributingto theirfavourite amusement, were loud in their plaudits ;while the ministers found to their distress thatin endeavouring to direct and control they hadonly fanned the flame <strong>of</strong> Nero's folly. To coverhis shame he persuaded the hoblest youth <strong>of</strong> Rometo follow his example, and rewarded with largesums <strong>of</strong> money those <strong>of</strong> them whose poverty ifnot their will consented.But though Nero had performed before thepublic as a charioteer, he did not as yet ventureto appear in the theatre as a singer oractor. For mimes, for all exhibitions <strong>of</strong> aman's person or physical accomplishments witha view to the public entertainment, the Romanshad a contempt unparalleled in any nation ancientor modern. Self-exposure <strong>of</strong> any kind theycondemned as a violation <strong>of</strong> that pudor whichthey ranked so high among the virtues. Nerowas a poet and musician as well as a singer. Hecould sing his own poems to the accompaniment<strong>of</strong> his own lyre and music <strong>of</strong> his own composition,and he was resolved not to hide his talents. Withthis end in view he instituted the juvenalia,or festivals <strong>of</strong> the youth, to consist <strong>of</strong> musicaland dramatic performances. These were privatelycelebrated from time to time in the emperor'spalace gardens, and were accompanied by muchpr<strong>of</strong>ligacy and debauchery. They were attendedby the Court, together with men and women <strong>of</strong>noble birth and <strong>of</strong> all ages, many<strong>of</strong> whom sharedin the performances. Here, for the first time,Nero appeared on the boards in costume, lyre
THE TRAGEDY OF BAIAE 97in hand, to sing songs which were greeted withrapturous applause.A group <strong>of</strong> Roman knights,taking the name <strong>of</strong> Augustani, formed themselvesinto a society, the sole object <strong>of</strong> whichwas to applaud the emperor and to proclaim theglory <strong>of</strong> the ' divine voice.' Burrhus himself,with the <strong>of</strong>ficers <strong>of</strong> the guard, was reluctantlyobliged to be present and to join in the applause.^As Tacitus makes no mention <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> in thisconnection, we may perhapsphilosopherinfer that theexcused himself from attendance.'1 Ann. xiv. 15 Centuriones tribunique et maerens Burrhus:et laudans.'H
CHAPTER IXDECLINE OF SENECA's INFLUENCE—DEATHOF BURRHUS AND OF OCTAVIA, A.D. 60-62In spite <strong>of</strong> Nero's growing self-confidence andimpatience <strong>of</strong> control, his aversion from businesssecured two more years <strong>of</strong> relatively wise andhumane administration to Rome after the death<strong>of</strong> Agrippina. Until his vanity, that ' insatiatecormorant,' had consumed the vast resourcesleft for its satisfaction by the economies <strong>of</strong> hispredecessor, he was under no temptation toresort to oppression for its further supply. Thelaw <strong>of</strong> majestashad been suffered to becomeobsolete ;informers had been discouraged ;governors <strong>of</strong> provinces had been made to give astrict account <strong>of</strong> their stewardship, and punishedwhen they deserved it ;and the popularity whichthese wise measures <strong>of</strong> his ministers broughtto the prince was more than doubled by theextravagance<strong>of</strong> his shows and his lavish distributions<strong>of</strong> presents to the people.The chief event at Rome <strong>of</strong> the year60 wasthe solemn institution by Nero <strong>of</strong> quinquennialgames, consisting <strong>of</strong> gymnastic and musical contests,and also <strong>of</strong> chariot racing— destined to be
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCE 99continued at intervals <strong>of</strong> five years for centuries.A festival <strong>of</strong> this kind, copied from a Greek model,was a novelty to the Romans, who had been accustomedto pr<strong>of</strong>ess a singular contempt for theathletic and artistic achievements held in suchhonour by the Greeks.^ There were mutteringsfrom conservatives, who deplored the Stateencouragement <strong>of</strong> Greek accomplishments unworthy<strong>of</strong> Romans but these;were answered bythe upholders <strong>of</strong> modern ideas, who dwelt on therelief to the magistrates, ruined by the expense<strong>of</strong> the shows they were obliged to provide for thepeople out <strong>of</strong> their private means, when a part <strong>of</strong>this expense should be defrayed from the publicpurse and also on the stimulus to intellectual;activity which the prizes at these contests forpoetry and eloquence would supply. The firstcelebration <strong>of</strong> the Neronia, as the games werecalled, was decently conducted. The prize foreloquence was not competed for but formallyallotted to Nero.The following year (61) was rendered memorableby the disaster in Britain, where 70,000Romans are said to have been massacred in asudden rising <strong>of</strong> the inhabitants under their warriorqueen, Boadicea. The rising was suppressed bythe energy and ability <strong>of</strong> the governor, SuetoniusPaullinus. Nero had no liking for successfulcommanders, and Suetonius was rewarded forhis victory by his recall.1Lucan, vii. 270: ' Graiis delecta juventus Gymnasiis aderit,'studioque ignava palaestrae.' Tac, Ann. xiv. 20 :Degeneretquestudiis externis juventus, gymnasia et otia et turpes am oresexercendo, Principe et Senatu auctoribus.'
100 SENECAIn Rome the event <strong>of</strong> the year which excitedthe greatest interest was the murder <strong>of</strong> PedaniusSecundus, prefect <strong>of</strong> the city, by one <strong>of</strong> his ownslaves, because <strong>of</strong> the demand which followed itfor the enforcement <strong>of</strong> the old law under whichwhen a master was killed by a slave all the otherslaves <strong>of</strong> the household as well as himself wereput to death. The people had grown accustomedto a milder regime, and the proposed punishment<strong>of</strong> so large a number <strong>of</strong> their fellow-men <strong>of</strong> bothsexes and <strong>of</strong> every age nearlyEven incaused a revolt.the Senate a minority protested againstthe application <strong>of</strong> so severe a law. The writings<strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, the most widely read author <strong>of</strong> the day,in which he pleaded the cause <strong>of</strong> slaves, insistedon their common humanity, called them humble'friends ' and fellow-servants <strong>of</strong> fortune, andto sitlaughed at those who held it degradingat table in their company, may have had someeffect on public opinion.^Tacitus has preservedfor us a speech made in the Senate by oneCaius Cassius, in which we have the judgment <strong>of</strong>a Roman senator <strong>of</strong> the old school on the newideas,full <strong>of</strong> false sentimentand degenerate s<strong>of</strong>tnessas he would think them, which found theirleading exponent in the treatises <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> :—I have very <strong>of</strong>ten been present, Patres Conscripti,in this assembly when proposals have been made1Ep. 47 : Servi sunt ? imo homines. Servi sunt ? imo contubernales.'Servi sunt ? imo humiles amici. Servi sunt ? imoconservi, si cogitaveris tantundem in utrosque licere fortunae.Itaque rideo istos qui tvirpe existimant cum servo suo coenare :quare ? nisi quia superbissima consuetude coenanti dominostantium servorum turbam circumdedit.'
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCEloicontrary to the laws and institutions <strong>of</strong> our ancestors,and I have raised no opposition. This was not becauseI doubted at any time the wisdom and right policy <strong>of</strong>our ancient institutions, or supposed they could bealtered except for the worse ; but, in the first place,because I would not in my zeal for the old order appearto attach too much importance to my own opinion ;and, in the second place, because a continual course <strong>of</strong>opposition in matters <strong>of</strong> lesser moment isapt to weakenthe force <strong>of</strong> our resistance at times when the highestinterests <strong>of</strong> the commonwealth are threatened. Considerwhat has just happened, A man <strong>of</strong> consular rank hasbeen killed in his own house by a treacherous slave.No one interfered to save him or revealed the plot,and that although the law under which the whole familybecame responsible for his safety had not yet been calledinto question. Pass then, in the name <strong>of</strong> heaven, youract <strong>of</strong> indemnity. Whose rank will protect him whenthe prefecture <strong>of</strong> the city is <strong>of</strong> no avail ? How manyslaves shall we need for our defence when four hundredcould not secure the safety <strong>of</strong> Pedanius ? . , . Somethere are who are not ashamed to pretend that theassassin was avenging the wrongs he had sufferedbecause he was himself being robbed. Let us say atonce, then, that Pedanius was justly slain ! Would youhave me find arguments for enforcing a law establishedlong ago by wiser men than we ? Well, then, I willsuppose that it is a question <strong>of</strong> passingit for the firsttime, and I ask you whether it is credible that a slaveshould have formed the intention <strong>of</strong> kiUing his masterand given no hint to any <strong>of</strong> his design by a single rashor threatening word ? He concealed his plot very successfullyforsooth ;no one saw his weapon he passed;the guard he opened the doors <strong>of</strong> the bed-chamber ; ;he passed in bearing a torch he committed the murder; ;and no one was aware <strong>of</strong> what he was doing! It is impossible.Our ancestors mistrusted the , , . disposition<strong>of</strong> slaves, even when born in their own houses or on theirestates and therefore bound to them by lifelong ties
102 SENECA<strong>of</strong> affection and gratitude. But now when householdsare made up from distant nations, when we have slaveswhose manners and religion differ so widely from ourown, we can certainly never keep this vile multitude inorder except by working on their fears. The innocent,it is said, will perish with the guilty. Why, so they doin a defeated army, when every tenth man is beatento death ;the lot may fall on the brave. Something<strong>of</strong> injustice you will find in every great example ; butthe interests <strong>of</strong> individuals must be sacrificed to thegeneral good.No senator was bold enough openly to opposethe views <strong>of</strong> Cassius, and, though dissentientmurmurs were heard condemning the mockery <strong>of</strong>justice that took neither sex nor age nor patentinnocence into account, it was resolved that thelaw should be enforced. Riots ensued among thepopulace, and a threat <strong>of</strong> resistance was uttered.Thereupon the imperial displeasure was proclaimedby edict, the road from the prison tothe place <strong>of</strong> execution was lined with soldiers,and the four hundred slaves, men, women, andchildren, were put to death.The year 62 opened ominously with the revival<strong>of</strong> the law <strong>of</strong> majestas, or treason, which hadlain dormant since the death <strong>of</strong> Claudius. At abanquet given at the house <strong>of</strong> Ostorius Scapulathe praetor Antistius, one <strong>of</strong> the guests, recitedsome scurrilous verses <strong>of</strong> his own compositionagainst the emperor. Cossutius Capito, who hadbeen raised to senatorial rank by the influence<strong>of</strong> his father-in-law, Tigellinus, accused Antistius<strong>of</strong> treason before the Senate. Ostorius declaredthat he had heard no verses recited, but credit
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCE 103was given to the evidence <strong>of</strong> other witnesses, andJunius MaruUus, consul designate, moved thatAntistius should be deprived <strong>of</strong> his praetorshipand put to death in the ancient fashion. ButThrasea Paetus rose to oppose this motion, and,after much praise <strong>of</strong> Caesar and reproachesaddressed to Antistius, declared that savagepunishments such as that demanded belongedto another age, and that the laws allowed theadoption <strong>of</strong> milder alternatives. He thereforemoved that Antistius should be punished by theconfiscation <strong>of</strong> his property and banishment toan island. This motion was carried on a division ;but, before venturing to give effect to it, the consulsthought it prudent to ask counsel <strong>of</strong> the emperor.Nero, <strong>of</strong>fended and embarrassed, replied that hehad been attacked without a cause by Antistius,who certainly deserved to be punished. Forthe rest, had the Senate decided on the severerpenalty,he should have interfered toprevent itsinfliction, but he could make no objection to theirmoderation. Indeed, they might acquit theprisoner altogether if they so pleased. In spite<strong>of</strong> the manifest annoyance <strong>of</strong> the emperor, theSenate did not recede from their vote ;some <strong>of</strong>them, says Tacitus, in order not to expose theprince to unpopularity, others perceiving safetyin numbers, and Thrasea out <strong>of</strong> his natural greatness<strong>of</strong> soul. This was perhaps the last occasionduring Nero's reign on which the Senate showedindependence.The death <strong>of</strong> Burrhus, which soon followed,dealt a shattering blow to <strong>Seneca</strong>'s power and
104 SENECAinfluence for good. It is to the credit <strong>of</strong> both menthat the friendship and union between them hadremained throughout unbroken by any sentiment<strong>of</strong> rivalry or jealousy ; and, while the militaryforce was under the command <strong>of</strong> Burrhus, Nerodid not venture to rid himself <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>. Burrhuswas succeeded in the command <strong>of</strong> the Praetoriansby Tigellinus,the most pr<strong>of</strong>ligate and corrupt <strong>of</strong>Nero's associates, with whom as a concession topublic opinion was joined as a colleagueRufus— Feniusan honest man, liked by the soldiersand respected by the people on account <strong>of</strong> theintegrity with which he had administered thedistribution <strong>of</strong> corn. But Rufus was given noreal power, while Tigellinus, on the other hand,who had cultivated a good understanding withPoppaea, acquired a predominant influence overthe emperor, whose worst impulses he encouraged.After the death <strong>of</strong> Burrhus the enemies <strong>of</strong><strong>Seneca</strong> redoubled their attacks, to which they perceivedthat the emperor was beginning to listen withscarcely veiled satisfaction. With the exaggerationcustomary in all ages when the fortunes <strong>of</strong>public men are in question, they dwelt on theextent <strong>of</strong> his revenues too vast for a subject, thenumber <strong>of</strong> his villas, and the beauty <strong>of</strong> his gardens,almost surpassing in magnificence, so they said,those <strong>of</strong> the emperor himself. They accusedhim, probably with more justice, <strong>of</strong> depreciatingNero's skill as a charioteer, and <strong>of</strong> openly deridingthe celestial voice. They insinuated that heclaimed a monopoly <strong>of</strong> eloquence, that so soonas Nero had begun to write poetry his own poetical
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCE 105activity had been found to increase, and that, infact, he would allow nothing <strong>of</strong> eloquence toappear in the republic that did not proceed fromhimself. Nero, they said, had passed his childhood;let him shake <strong>of</strong>f his yoke, and show thathe needed no other guidance than that suppliedhim by the example <strong>of</strong> his ancestors.The appointment <strong>of</strong> Tigellinus to the post <strong>of</strong>Burrhus convinced <strong>Seneca</strong> that he could be <strong>of</strong> n<strong>of</strong>urther service to the State, and he became anxiousto retire from publiclife. But it was no easymatter to withdraw from the service <strong>of</strong> thesuspiciousNero. <strong>Seneca</strong> himself in one <strong>of</strong> hisletters, with the worldly wisdom which hecommonly blends with his philosophy, observedthat it isdangerous to seem to seek a safe retreat,since a man implicitly condemns that which heshuns. ^However, he obtained an audience, and onthe plea <strong>of</strong> age and growing infirmities begged tobe allowed to retire from the Court and devotethe short remainder <strong>of</strong> his life to his studies.At the same time he entreated the prince tocome to his assistance by allowing him to restoreto his imperial benefactor the great possessionswhich he owed to his munificence. But Nerowould not accept his resignation or the pr<strong>of</strong>feredsacrifice <strong>of</strong> his gardens and villas. He pr<strong>of</strong>essedthe highest value for the services <strong>of</strong> hisminister, loaded him with caresses, and dismissedhim with tender reproaches that he*Ep. xiv. : 'Sapiens nocituram potentiam vitat, hoc primumcavens, ne vitare videatur. Pars enim securitatis et in hoc est,non ex pr<strong>of</strong>esso earn petere ; quia quae quis fugit damnat.'
10 6 SENFXAshould be content to gaincredit for disinterestednessat the risk <strong>of</strong> exposinghis friend to thesuspicion <strong>of</strong> avarice, and that he should desirea retirement which would be interpreted as fear<strong>of</strong> Nero's cruelty. <strong>Seneca</strong> thanked the prince andwithdrew ;but from that time forth changedhis whole manner <strong>of</strong> life ;discontinued his receptions<strong>of</strong> clients, spentlittle time abroad andavoided all society, devoting himself in seclusionto his studies, and writing his immortal letters toLucilius. The change in the direction <strong>of</strong> affairssoon made itself felt .Burrhus, Tigellinus told Nero,had other interests ;but for himself, the emperor'ssafety was the one object. He endeavoured toalarm Nero with reports <strong>of</strong> conspiracies, and toplunge him into crime in order to secure his ownposition as an indispensable guardian and accom-Rubellius Plautus and Cornelius Sulla wereplice.the first victims <strong>of</strong> this system. Plautus was adescendant through his mother <strong>of</strong> Augustus.He had adopted <strong>Stoic</strong> principles and, though aman <strong>of</strong> vast possessions, the simplicity and dignity<strong>of</strong> his domestic life had won him universal respect.Two years previously, in the year 6i, when theappearance <strong>of</strong> a comet, a slight illness <strong>of</strong> theemperor, and other signs had made many peoplebelieve that a change was imminent, he hadbeen spoken <strong>of</strong> as a candidate for the Empire-Thereupon Nero had sent him a letter in whichhe suggested that, in order to silence these invidiousreports for which he did not hold him responsible,it might be well that he should retire for a timeto his ancestral estates in the province <strong>of</strong> Asia,
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCE 107and there live out his youth free from danger orintrigue. Plautus compHed, and was still livingin the province when the death <strong>of</strong> Burrhus andthe partial retirement <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> brought Tigellinusinto power. Cornelius Sulla, a dull man, whoseonly importance was derived from his descentfrom the dictator, had been living in exile atMarseilles since the year 58, whither he hadbeen sent on a trumped-up accusation <strong>of</strong> a plotagainst the emperor, <strong>of</strong> which no one who knewhis indolent disposition believed him to be capable.Tigellinus, closely studying the humours <strong>of</strong>his master, discovered that these two men werethe living fears in Nero's heart, and thereuponurged, as from himself, their destruction. Neroat once agreed, and on the sixth day afteremissaries sent for the purpose had left Rome,MarseillesSulla was assassinated while dining atand his head brought back to the emperor, wholaughed at the premature whiteness <strong>of</strong> the hairon it. The execution <strong>of</strong> Plautus was a moredangerous business. Unlike Sulla, he had manyfriends and great possessions. He was warned <strong>of</strong>his danger by a despatch from his father-in-law,Antistius, who urged him to resistance. ButPlautus was a <strong>Stoic</strong> philosopher and a fatalist,and he thought the doubtful chance <strong>of</strong> a longerlife not worth the struggle, while he hoped thathis submission might incline the emperor to abetter treatment <strong>of</strong> his wife and children.Nero'sassassin found him at noon stripped for theexercises <strong>of</strong> his gymnasium. Here he was slain,and his head, like that <strong>of</strong> Sulla, brought back to
io8the exulting tyrant.Senate made no directSENECAAn imperial message to themention <strong>of</strong> the deaths <strong>of</strong>Plautus and Sulla, but spoke vaguely <strong>of</strong> theirfactious disposition and the emperor's constantwatchfulness over the public safety. They werethereupon expelled from the Senate and the usualsupplications decreed.These crimes were followed by the murder<strong>of</strong> the innocent and unhappy Octavia. Thisprincess, whose brief life had been but one series<strong>of</strong> calamities unredeemed by a single gleam <strong>of</strong>happiness, was adored by the people, who commiseratedher misfortunes and detested her rivalPoppaea. Nero began by divorcing her on theground <strong>of</strong> sterility, and removed her first toa house once inhabited by Burrhus and afterwardsinto Campania, where she was placed undera military guard. She was next charged withadultery with an Egyptian slave ;but the heroicconstancy <strong>of</strong> her waiting-maids, who continuedunder torture to declare her innocence, made itnecessary to abandon this charge, and the emperor,intimidated by popular clamour, decided to recallher. Great rejoicings followed ;the statues<strong>of</strong> Poppaea were thrown down, and those <strong>of</strong>Octavia adorned with flowers. The multitudeadvanced towards the palace to express theirgratitude to the emperor, but they were met bya charge from the soldiers and dispersed withbloodshed. Poppaea, assisted by Tigellinus, usedall her wiles to restore Nero's resolution and tocompassAnicetus,the ruin <strong>of</strong> Octavia. The services <strong>of</strong>the murderer <strong>of</strong> Agrippina, were again
DECLINE OF SENECA'S INFLUENCE 109called into requisition. This man had becomeodious to Nero, on the principle that ' they lovenot poison that do poison need,' and was readyfor any new crime to recover his favour. Heagreed to accuse himself <strong>of</strong> being the lover <strong>of</strong>Octavia, and exceeded his instructions in theshamelessness <strong>of</strong> his pretended disclosures. Afterhis statement made to Nero's council he wasremoved to Sardinia, and there enabled to spendthe remaining years <strong>of</strong> his miserable life in physicalcomfort. Octavia, still but in her twentieth year,having witnessed the murders <strong>of</strong> her father andbrother by a husband who had hated and cruellytreated her from the firstday <strong>of</strong> their pretendedunion, was now confined in fetters in the island<strong>of</strong> Pandataria, and after a few days put to death.Her head was brought to her cruel rival, Poppaea,whose marriage to Nero had immediately followedthe divorce.In the following year (63) Poppaea gave birthto a daughter, and Nero was beside himself withjoy. The Senate fell in with his mood andvoted temples, thanksgivings to the gods, andhonours to the child and mother, with theircustomary subservience. The child was bornat Antium— Nero's own birthplace— and thitherthe senators went to <strong>of</strong>fer their congratulations—all except Thrasea, whose absence drew a bittercomment from the emperor. Afterwards Neroboasted to <strong>Seneca</strong> that he had reconciled himselfto Thrasea. A flatterer would have replied withthe anticipated protest against such an excess <strong>of</strong>magnanimity, but <strong>Seneca</strong> merely expressed himself
noSENECAdelighted at the news and <strong>of</strong>fered his congratulations—a reply, comments Tacitus, much to hishonour and to that <strong>of</strong> Thrasea, but fraught withperil to both these excellent men. The childitself died in four months' time and Nero, excessivein all things, abandoned himself to the wildestmanifestations <strong>of</strong> grief, which the divine honoursvoted to his lost treasure by a sympathetic Senatewere powerless to assuage.
CHAPTER XSENECA IN RETIREMENT—HISAND OCCUPATIONSFRIENDSDuring the last three years<strong>of</strong> his Hfe <strong>Seneca</strong>occupied himself as little as he could with publicaffairs. The emperor would not consent to hisformal retreat, and stilloccasionally consultedhim, but he lived at Rome as little as possible,making his health an excuse for spending most<strong>of</strong> his time in one or other <strong>of</strong> his villas. In hiswhich he shared with his young wiferetirement,Paullina, to whom he was tenderly attached,<strong>Seneca</strong> occupied himself with reading, writing,self-examination, meditation on the nature <strong>of</strong>things, and researches into natural history. Hisbook <strong>of</strong> Naturales Quaestiones, written in thelast year <strong>of</strong> his life, was the result <strong>of</strong> these researchesin which, says Quintilian,he was sometimesmisled by those whom he employed tomake investigations. This book, though withoutscientific value, assumes the existence <strong>of</strong> naturalcauses for all phenomena however unusual,and rejects the notion that they were special
112 SENECAindications <strong>of</strong> the divine purpose, or bore any butaccidental relation to human destiny.^<strong>Seneca</strong> was also an expert vine-grower, and hisvineyard at Nomentum was the admiration <strong>of</strong>Itahan agriculturists.^ The territory <strong>of</strong> Nomentum,a small and ancient town in the neighbourhood<strong>of</strong> Rome, was celebrated for its vineyards. Anew system <strong>of</strong> cultivation had been introducedthere with very successful results by a freedmannamed Acilius Sthenelus. The methods<strong>of</strong> Sthenelus were imitated by the well-knowngrammarian Palaemon, a man <strong>of</strong> infamous moralsand inordinate vanity, but whose energy andhad raised him from the condition <strong>of</strong> aabilityslave to wealth and high distinction in hispr<strong>of</strong>ession.^ Palaemon bought at a low pricesome neglected land at Nomentum, and set towork to grow vines on itaccordingto the system<strong>of</strong> Sthenelus. He succeeded so well that withineight years his vineyards had become an object<strong>of</strong> interest to all men engaged in vine-growing,and the proximity <strong>of</strong> Nomentum to Rome broughthim a stream <strong>of</strong> visitors by which his vanity —1Nat. Quaest. vi. 3 : 'lUud quoque proderit praesumere animo,nihil horum deos facere ; nee ira numinum, aut caelum concuti,aut terram. Suas ista causas habent : nee ex imperio saeviunt,sed ex quibusdam vitiis, ut corpora nostra, turbantur : et tunc,cum facere videntur, injuriam accipiunt.'*Nat. Quaest.iii.7 : ''EgoAnnaeo tibi vinearum diligens fossoraf&rmo.' Pliny, xiv. :4 <strong>Seneca</strong> . . . tanto praediiejus amore capto, ut non puderet inviso alias et ostentaturotradere palmam eam, emptis quadruplicato vineis illis intradecennium fere curae annum.' Columella, iii. 3.'Nevertheless, in the expressed opinion <strong>of</strong> both the emperorsTiberius and Claudius his moral character unfitted him to beplaced in charge <strong>of</strong> youth.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 113the leading motive, according to Pliny, <strong>of</strong> all hisactivities— must have been abundantly gratified.Among the rest came <strong>Seneca</strong>, who was so charmedwith what he saw that he purchased the propertyat a price four times as large as that which Palaemonhad paid for it less than ten years previously.The farm did not suffer from the change <strong>of</strong> ownership.Columella, a contemporary, writes thatin his time the vineyards <strong>of</strong> Nomentum werecelebrated for their excellence, and that the bestyield <strong>of</strong> all was from that belonging to <strong>Seneca</strong>.^The practical character <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s philosophy,his love <strong>of</strong> tangible results, his constant desireto penetrate through appearances to realities,render comprehensible his taste for agriculture.A rival vine-grower, mentioned by Pliny, wasVetalinus Aegialus, by origin a freedman, wholived on an estate in the district <strong>of</strong> Liternum, inCampania, formerly occupied by Scipio Africanusduring his exile from Rome. <strong>Seneca</strong> visited himthere, and has left in one <strong>of</strong> his letters an interestingdescription <strong>of</strong> the house and olive plantations,with a detailed account <strong>of</strong> the various methods<strong>of</strong> planting and transplanting olive-trees andvines :I am writing you [Lucilius] this letter from the actualhouse <strong>of</strong> Scipio Africanus, where I am staying, and whereI have adored his ' manes ' and the c<strong>of</strong>hn which I beheveto contain the body <strong>of</strong> that great man ... I find ahouse constructed <strong>of</strong> square stones, in a wood, surrounded1 Colum., De re rustica, iii. :3 Nomentana regio celeberrima'fama est illustris, et praecipue quam possidet <strong>Seneca</strong>, vir excellentisingenii atque doctrinae, cujus in praediis vinearum jugerasingula cuUeos octonos reddidisse plerumque compertum est.'I
114 SENECAby a wall, with towers erected at each corner for itsdefence. There is a tank to supply the buildings and theplants which might suffice for the wants <strong>of</strong> a whole army.The small bath is rather dark, as we generally find inbaths <strong>of</strong> that time. It gave me great pleasure to contemplateScipio's way <strong>of</strong> Uving and to contrast it withours. It was in this dark corner that the terror <strong>of</strong>Carthage, to whom Rome owes it that she was capturedonly once, used to bathe his body wearied with countrywork, for his exercise took the form <strong>of</strong> labour, and heused to plough his fields himself, after the manner <strong>of</strong>the ancients. Under this humble ro<strong>of</strong> he hved ;onthis common pavement he walked. Who now wouldendure to bathe in this manner ? A man now thinkshimself poor and mean unless his walls glisten withlarge and costly marble, with Alexandrian blocks contrastingwith Numidian, with elaborate texture <strong>of</strong> mosaicas from a painter's hand ;unless his arched ro<strong>of</strong> ishidden by plate glass unless marble from Thasos, once;the rare and conspicuous decoration <strong>of</strong> some temple,cover the walls <strong>of</strong> a swimming-bath into which he plungesa body exhausted by pr<strong>of</strong>use perspiration unless water;flows from silver sluices. And I am speaking only <strong>of</strong>common baths ;what shall be said when we come to thebaths <strong>of</strong> freedmen, with their many statues, and columnssupporting nothing but placed there merely for show, andby reason <strong>of</strong> their costUness ? What <strong>of</strong> the sound <strong>of</strong> watersrushing down the steps ? Our luxury has reached sucha pitch that the very floor on which we tread must beset with precious stones. In this bath <strong>of</strong> Scipio thereare chinks, hardly to be called windows, cut in the stonewall, so that light may be admitted without weakeningthe defences. But nowadays we think baths mustyunless they are contrived so as to admit the full rays<strong>of</strong> the sun to fallthrough vast windows upon the bathersand warm them as they bathe, and to enable them toenjoy from their seats a prospect <strong>of</strong> sea and land. Newinventions <strong>of</strong> luxury constantly outstrip the old, andevery novelty which made baths admired and run after
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 115at the time <strong>of</strong> their dedication soon becomes out <strong>of</strong>date and out <strong>of</strong> fashion. Of old, baths were few andtheir arrangements simple, for there was little need fordecoration when the object <strong>of</strong> bathing was cleanliness,not pleasure, and when a bath cost less than a penny.Water was not poured over the bather, nor constantlyrenewed as from a hot spring to clean the grease fromshining bodies. But, by Heaven, it was delightful toenter those dark bathing-places when you knew thata Cato or a Fabius Maximus or one <strong>of</strong> the Cornelii hadtested the water with his own hands, for the <strong>of</strong>fice <strong>of</strong>inspecting the public baths, <strong>of</strong> seeing that they wereclean and in good order, and that the temperature waskept at the right and most healthy level, was in olddays discharged by the noblest aediles. . . . What aclown would Scipio now be thought, who had no broadwindow-panes through which to admit the Hght andwas not accustomed to stew in a steaming bath underthe full sunshine I The water in which he bathed wasnot filtered, but <strong>of</strong>ten cloudy, indeed after heavy rainalmost muddy. But that mattered little to him, forhe came to wash away sweat, not ointment. One canimagine the 'contemptuous comment : We do notenvy Scipio if that was his manner <strong>of</strong> bathing.' Butthere is worse to come ;he did not bathe every day,the recorders <strong>of</strong> old customs that ourfor we are told byancestors washed their legs and arms every day becausethey were stained by their work, but their whole bodies'only once a week. Clearly they were very dirty fellows 'someone will say. Of what do you think they smelt ?Of warfare ;<strong>of</strong> labour ;<strong>of</strong> manhood. Men becamefouler after elegant baths were invented. ... To useointment is <strong>of</strong> no use unless it is renewed twice or thricea day, otherwise it will evaporate. People glory inthese odours, as ifthey were natural to their bodies.If all this seems to you too severe you must ascribe itto the spirit <strong>of</strong> the house, where I have been learningfrom Aegialus, the present owner <strong>of</strong> the estate andthe most industrious <strong>of</strong> householders, how to trans-
ii6SENECAplant an old plantation. This is the sort <strong>of</strong> thing weveterans should learn, we are all <strong>of</strong> us planting oliveyards for the benefit <strong>of</strong> those who come after us.^In another letter he describes how, whenattacked by fever, he escaped from Rome toNomentum, disregarding the anxious remonstrances<strong>of</strong> Paullina, his second wife, who thoughthim too ill to move, and how quickly the sight<strong>of</strong> his vines and meadows, and the enjoyment<strong>of</strong> pure air after the fetid atmosphere <strong>of</strong> thecity, restored him to health. In this letter, too,he dwells with gratitude on the devoted affection<strong>of</strong> Paullina, and says that it was this thatreconciled him to life. His health had becomea matter <strong>of</strong> concern to himself, because it was amatter <strong>of</strong> concern to her.For since I know that I am to her as the breath <strong>of</strong>life, I begin to be careful <strong>of</strong> myself that I may be careful<strong>of</strong> her, and I give up that indifference to fate whichis the chief boon brought by old age. This old man,I tell myself, has youth in his keeping and must thereforespare himself. ... It is sweet, moreover, to be sodear to a wife that a man becomes dearer to himself.''Another villa owned by <strong>Seneca</strong> in the neighbourhood<strong>of</strong> Rome was in the Alban district,where many rich Romans possessed houses andwhither the emperors themselves used to resort totheir magnificent villa first occupied by Pompey,large remains <strong>of</strong> which are still visible at Albano.<strong>Seneca</strong> gives in one <strong>of</strong> his letters a characteristicaccount <strong>of</strong> a surprise visit he paid to his Albanvilla about this time. He relates how he arrived'Ep. 86.=»Ep. 104.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 117late at night after a troublesome journey and foundnothing ready for his reception but the contentedmind he brought with him. This he owed, so hewrites, to the reflections that nothing externalreally matters if you take it lightly ; that all thatis displeasing in our indignationfeeling itself, not from its subject;arises from thethat evil residesnot in things, but in the opinion we have <strong>of</strong> them ;and that although there was no bread in thehouse but the coarse stuff eaten by his bailiff andlabourers, he would find, if he waited long enoughto be hungry, that this was better than the breadto which he was accustomed. Amusing himselfwith these philosophical meditations he wentsupperless to bed, and determined to eat no scraptill his appetite should clamour for the homelyfare within his reach and he could digestit withpleasure. A stomach well-disciplined and trainedto put up with indignities, he moralised the nextmorning to Lucilius, is <strong>of</strong> the greatest use to onewho would be free. He is delighted to find withwhat perfect unconcern he can endure unexpectedinconveniences ; for, as he remarks, a man ifgiven time can brace himself to do without manythings, the sudden loss <strong>of</strong> which he would feel.We do not understand how many <strong>of</strong> the things weuse are superfluoustill we begin to dispense \^dth them.Then we find that we made use <strong>of</strong> them merely becausewe possessed them. With how many things we surroundourselves only because others have done the same, becauseit is the fashion ! A fruitful source <strong>of</strong> our errorsis that we live by imitation and are guided by customrather than by reason. When a practice <strong>of</strong> any kind
Ii8SENECAis adopted but by a few we leave it alone, when morepeople take to it we follow suit, just as if it were betterbecause more common, and when some extravagancebecomes general we begin to think it right. For instance,no man <strong>of</strong> fashion cares to make a journey withoutbeing preceded by an escort <strong>of</strong> Numidian outridersand runners. He would despise himself if the roadwere not cleared for his passage and unless a greatdust heralded the approach <strong>of</strong> a person <strong>of</strong> consequence,while the accoutrements <strong>of</strong> his mules must be <strong>of</strong> preciousmaterial wrought by great artists.He goes on to warn Lucilius to avoid the insidioussociety <strong>of</strong> those who declare virtue and justiceand philosophy to be empty names, and thatto take pleasure as it flies is the only sensible coursefor an ephemeral being like man. Death, thesesay, will take all ; why then anticipate its actionby the surrender <strong>of</strong> what it will take? Whatmadness to act as steward for your heir and somake him long for your departure, because themore you have the better pleased will he be tosee you go. Reputation is a bubble, pleasure theone reality. Such siren-songs as these, says<strong>Seneca</strong>, must be shunned like the plague. Theyturn us from our country, from our parents, fromour friends, from virtue, and dash us to pieceson a rock <strong>of</strong> degradation. No one isgood byaccident ;virtue is a difficult science and mustbe learnt. Pleasure, which we share with theanimals, which attracts the meanest <strong>of</strong> createdthings, must be a petty and contemptible thing.Poverty is an evil only to him who declines it.Superstition is very madness ;it fears thosewhom it should love ;it dishonours those whom
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 119it worships. As well deny the existence <strong>of</strong> godsas report so vilely <strong>of</strong> their character. Thereis no hope for the sick man whom his physicianurges to intemperance.^One fruit <strong>of</strong> retirement, especiallyto <strong>Seneca</strong>'staste, was the increased opportunities which itbrought him <strong>of</strong> intercourse with his friends.Throughout his life he had cultivated friendshipwith chosen men <strong>of</strong> every rank, and he had ahigh idea <strong>of</strong> all that was implied in the term.a man toConsider long [he writes] before admittingbe your friend, but when you have done so, admit himto your heart <strong>of</strong> hearts, speak as freelyto him as toyourself.Do you indeed so live as to entrust nothingto yourself which you would be ashamed to confide evento an enemy yet since there are things which we are;accustomed to keep secret, share with your friend allyour cares, allyour thoughts. Ifyou think him faithfulyouwill make him so.^The wise man, even if sufficient unto himself, wishesto have a friend ;if on no other account yet that hemay practise friendship not for the reasons Epicurus, . .have someone to nurse him whengives, that he mayill or to succour him when in prison or in want, but thathe may himself have someone to nurse, or to liberatewhen a prisoner. He who regards himself and for hisown sake seeks for friendship is in error as it has;begun,so will it end. He has prepared a friend to bring himaid when in chains, at the first clank that friend willleave him. . . . You begin a friendship for your ownadvantage, if a greater advantage <strong>of</strong>fers youwill breakit, because you have looked for a reward outside itself.Wherefore do I make myself a friend ? To have onefor whom I can die, whom I can follow into exile, forwhose life I may risk and spend my own.^1Ep. 123.»Ep. 3.*Ep. 9.
120 SENECAFriendship [he writes to Lucilius] makes all thingscommon between us, neither prosperity nor adversitycan fall to our single share. We live in common. Noone can live happily who looks to himself alone, whoturns everything to his own pr<strong>of</strong>it ; you must live for— another ifyou would live for 'yourself alteri vivasoportet, si vis iibi vivere.' The binding union whichmingles all with all and claims that there are rightscommon to the whole human race must be carefullyand sacredly observed. To this end the cultivation<strong>of</strong> that tie <strong>of</strong> intimate friendship I spokegreatest service, for he who shares all things<strong>of</strong> is <strong>of</strong> thewith hisfriend will share much with mankind.^The soul knows no pleasure comparable to a sweetand faithful friendship. How good it is to have one towhom you can confide every secret, whose knowledgeyou fear less than your own, whose conversation soothesyour cares, whose judgment solves your perplexities,whose cheerfulness drives away melancholy, whose verysight enchants you.^In spite <strong>of</strong>, perhaps owing to, this l<strong>of</strong>ty notion<strong>of</strong> friendship, <strong>Seneca</strong> had a goodlylist <strong>of</strong> friends.Nearest <strong>of</strong> allto his heart was Annaeus Serenus,captain <strong>of</strong> Nero's bodyguard, whose name suggeststhat he may have been a relation. To him headdressed the treatise De Constantia Sapientis;and the De Tranquillitate Animi is in theform <strong>of</strong> a dialogue between Serenus and himself.The younger man is made to consult <strong>Seneca</strong> withrespect to certain difficulties which he has encounteredin his progress in philosophy. Hisreason has convinced him that a simplelife isthebest, and his real inclinations agree with hisreason. Yet he finds his eyes dazzled by the'Ep. 48.*De Tranquill. Anim. i.7.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 121splendour he sees around him ;and he is conscious<strong>of</strong> an occasional conflict between his moral andphysical nature, troubling him much as sea-sicknessmay trouble a man though the ship is in no danger.These weaknesses humiliate and disturb him, andhe asks <strong>Seneca</strong> to prescribe some means by whichhe may gain a constant and invulnerable tranquillity<strong>of</strong> soul. <strong>Seneca</strong> in reply treats, as hesays, the whole question in order that from thegeneral remedy Serenus may extract what heneeds to meet his own case. His remedy, inbrief, is self-devotion to the welfare <strong>of</strong> others,whether by public service <strong>of</strong> the State, in which aman must regard honours only so far as theymay help him to be useful to his friends, to hisfellow-citizens, and to the whole world ; or, ifthe temptations incident to such a life may notsafely be confronted, to the equally necessarywork <strong>of</strong> teaching the world the meaning <strong>of</strong> justice,<strong>of</strong> piety, <strong>of</strong> patience, <strong>of</strong> fortitude, <strong>of</strong> the contempt<strong>of</strong> death, <strong>of</strong> the nature <strong>of</strong> the gods, and finally,what allmay have who will, <strong>of</strong> a goodWe conscience.have no power over fortune. Life is in onesense a perpetual servitude, whatever its outwardaspect but we have ;power to act rightly,however fortune may treat us, and there are noconceivable circumstances in which we may notsecure tranquillity by serving our fellow-creaturesin the measure <strong>of</strong> our power. A discriminatingchoice <strong>of</strong> friends, moderation in all things, with arational end kept constantly in view in all ouractions and desires, the elimination <strong>of</strong> the superfluous,the a\ oidance alike <strong>of</strong> anxiety and <strong>of</strong> frivolity,
122 SENECAachieved by constantly keeping in mind the truththat external things being beyond our powerand subject to fortune are unimportant, to laughrather than weep at the follies and vices <strong>of</strong> themultitude, recreation, and the cultivation <strong>of</strong>cheerfulness— these are the more worldly-wisecounsels addressed to Serenus personally withwhich <strong>Seneca</strong> closes his treatise. It was writtenduring the Quinquennium, at the height <strong>of</strong> hisprosperity, and is free from the gloom, the sense<strong>of</strong> impending tragedy, the passionate exhortationsto constanc}^ the tremendous seriousness whichmark his later writings when the reign <strong>of</strong> terrorhad begun.Serenus died while stillyoung <strong>of</strong> a dish <strong>of</strong>poisonous fungi.^ Of his grief at this event <strong>Seneca</strong>afterwards wrote to Lucilius, whom he was consolingfor the loss <strong>of</strong> a friend :— younger as if the Fates preserved the order <strong>of</strong> age.^Though I write thus to you, yet I myself mournedfor my dearest friend Annaeus Serenus with such extravagance<strong>of</strong> lamentation that I am become a nameamong those who have been vanquished by— sorrow thelast thing I desired. Now, however, I blame myself, andperceive that the chief reason <strong>of</strong> my excess <strong>of</strong> grief wasthat I had never thought that he could have died beforeme. I only reflected that he was younger, and muchAnother <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s friends <strong>of</strong> a very differentsort was Demetrius, the cynic philosopher. Demetriuswas a native <strong>of</strong> Sunium, and early in hislong life became known for the originahty andindependence <strong>of</strong> his character. He illustrated^Pliny, xxii. *Ep. 63.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 123the doctrines <strong>of</strong> his school no less by his lifethan by his teaching. Confining his wants to thebarest necessities, living on the roughest fare,clad in the coarsest garments, he was in need <strong>of</strong>nothing that man could give him, and thereforehad no motive for concealing his opinions onlife or on the actions <strong>of</strong> mankind out <strong>of</strong> anyhuman respect. <strong>Seneca</strong>, at the summit <strong>of</strong> hisfame and power and wealth, retained the highestadmiration and regard for this half-nakedchampion <strong>of</strong> poverty and <strong>of</strong> contemptworld's goods.for theNature [he says] would seem to have bred him(Demetrius) in our times in order to show that neithercould we corrupt him, nor he correct us. He is,though he deny it, a perfectly wise man ;one whoseconstancy <strong>of</strong> resolution nothing can shake whose unlabouredeloquence following its natural course and intent;on its end is little concerned with the choice <strong>of</strong> wordsor the modulation <strong>of</strong> periods, but is exactly suited tothe great subjectsit treats, and the true expression <strong>of</strong>a mighty soul. Providence, I am persuaded, has decreedthat the man should lead such a life, and has endowedhim with such powers <strong>of</strong> speech, that this age might lackneither an example nor a reproach.^The teaching <strong>of</strong> Demetrius was that <strong>of</strong> hisschool, but confirmed in his instance by anunchanging practice.The wise man [he taught] must despise whatever issubject to fortune, must raise himself above fear, andlearn to attach no value to riches save those that springfrom himself, remembering always that there is little t<strong>of</strong>ear from men, and nothing from the goodness <strong>of</strong> the gods ;*De Benef. vii. 8.
' *124 SENECAhe must disdain all those superfluities that tormentwhile they seem to adorn our lives, and understand thatdeath is the source <strong>of</strong> no evil but the end <strong>of</strong> many ;consecrating his soul to virtue he must think her waythe plainest whithersoever it may lead him ;he musthold himself a social being born for the service <strong>of</strong> all,and regard the world as a hostel where all men arefellow-sojourners he must open his conscience to the;gods and live as if all his actions were public.-^Among the many great sayings <strong>of</strong> my friendDemetrius [<strong>Seneca</strong> writes elsewhere], here is one thatI have just heard and that still rings in my ears, * Theman who has never known adversity seems to be unhappiest<strong>of</strong> all, for he has never been able to test himself.' ^Demetrius concealed neither his thoughtsnor his dwelling-place, yet he contrived to livewithout serious molestation under tyrant aftertyrant, and died at last in extreme old age in theprincipate <strong>of</strong> Domitian. Caligula endeavoured topropitiate him by an enormous present <strong>of</strong> money,but the philosopher laughingly rejected it, observingafterwards that if the emperor wishedto corrupt him he should at least have <strong>of</strong>feredhim his whole empire. Later he lived for a timeat Corinth, where he made the acquaintance <strong>of</strong>the thaumaturgist Apollonius <strong>of</strong> Tyana. Comingto Rome, he became the honoured companionand spiritual adviser <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, Thrasea, andother distinguished men. He was present withHelvidius at Thrasea's death, and it was to himthat that high-minded senator addressed his lastwords. ^ When Nero's gymnasium was completedhe made his way into the new building and there^De Benef. vii. i.De Providentia, 3.^Tac, Ann. xvi. 35J
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 125denounced the custom <strong>of</strong> bathing, declaring thatthe bathers only enfeebled and polluted themselves,and that such institutions were a useless expense.'He was only saved from immediate death, asthe penalty <strong>of</strong> such language, by the fact that Nerowas in extra good voice when he sang on thatday, which he did in the tavern adjoining thegymnasium, naked, except for a girdle round hiswaist.' ^ The philosopher was nevertheless chargedby TigelHnus with having ruined the bath, andwas banished from Rome. After the death <strong>of</strong>Nero he returned to the city, but, wearing outthe patience <strong>of</strong> Vespasian by the frankness <strong>of</strong>his criticisms, he was again banished with otherphilosophers by that emperor.A third friend <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> was Caesonius Maximus.He is only once mentioned in <strong>Seneca</strong>'s letters, butwe know from Martial how close was the friendshipbetween the two men. * This powerful friend<strong>of</strong> the eloquent <strong>Seneca</strong>,' writes the poet,'wasalmost as dear to him as the beloved Serenus,perhapseven dearer.'^Maximus was a Roman <strong>of</strong> the governing classwho passed through the usual course <strong>of</strong> honours,ending as consul suffectus and proconsul inSicily under Nero.^ After <strong>Seneca</strong>'s death Maximus^Philostratus, Apol. iv. 42.*Martial, vii. 45 :'! Facundi <strong>Seneca</strong>e potens amicus,Caro proximus, aut prior, Sereno.'The consuls who gave their name to the year were thoseappointed on the first <strong>of</strong> January. These were the consulesordinavii, but under the Empire they were accustomed to resigntheir <strong>of</strong>&ces after a few months or even weeks, and consulessuffecti were appointed to fill their places.
126 SENECAwith others <strong>of</strong> his friends was banished fromItaly without trial. A certain Quintus Ovidius,to whom Martial afterwards addressed two epigrams,and who, according to that poet, wasto Maximus all that Maximus was to <strong>Seneca</strong>,braved the tyrant's resentment by accompanyinghim into exile, and earned through this gallantaction such immortality as Martial's verses couldbestow. The letters <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> to Maximus werepublished and were extant in Martial's time,but have been lost.^In a letter to Lucilius, <strong>Seneca</strong> describes atwo days' jaunt made by Maximus and himself.Their purpose was to try with how many <strong>of</strong>thethings commonly thought indispensable by a richRoman on his travels it was possible, withoutreal inconvenience, to dispense.There are many things [he wrote] which we thinknecessary, but should not miss if some accident were todeprive us <strong>of</strong> them. If, then, we <strong>of</strong> set purpose wentwithout them we should not feel their loss. Thatlesson I have learnt from my expedition. Startingwith slaves so few that a single waggon could holdthem, and without any luggage that we did not carryon our persons, I and my friend Maximus have beenenjoying a delightful two days' expedition. I slepton a mattress spread on the bare ground. One rainmantleacted as sheet and one as coverlet. Nothingour meals, which took littleunnecessary was served attime to prepare. Dried figs were invariable ;and ourtablets were always ready at hand to note impressions.The figs,when there is bread, serve as a seasoning when;there is none, they serve as bread. ... I drove in arustic waggon. The mules just showed they were alive1Tac, Ann. xv. 7 ; Martial, vii. 44, 45.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 127by moving ; the muleteer went barefoot, not becauseit was summer, but because he had no shoes. I own,however, that I felt some uneasiness at being thought theowner <strong>of</strong> this conveyance, and the fact that I did soshows that I have not yet succeeded in freeing myselffrom false shame. Whenever we met some splendid—equipage, do what I would I felt embarrassed a pro<strong>of</strong>that I am not yet steadfastly fixed in the principlesI approve and commend, for the man who is ashamed<strong>of</strong> a humble vehicle will glory in a costly one. I havemade little progress. As yet I hardly venture to practisefrugality in public ; I still have regard to the opinion<strong>of</strong> wayfarers.^But the most interesting <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s friendswas the Epicurean, Lucilius Junior, to whomthe famous letters were addressed, as well asthe Naturales Quaestiones and the treatise DeProvidentia. Lucilius was an administrator, aphilosopher, and a poet. He had known <strong>Seneca</strong>when they were both young at Pompeii, wherehe had a house, and where perhaps he wasborn.A man [<strong>Seneca</strong> wrote to him in Sicily] must be dulland insensible indeed, my Lucilius, who forgets his frienduntil reminded <strong>of</strong> him by some local association, yetfamiUar spots do sometimes wake again the sense <strong>of</strong>bereavement deep hidden in our hearts, not by revivinga perished memory, but by rousing it from slumber.Thus the grief <strong>of</strong> mourners even when s<strong>of</strong>tened by timeis renewed by the sight <strong>of</strong> a familiar slave at the door,or <strong>of</strong> clothing, or <strong>of</strong> a house. I cannot describe howI missed you and how fresh seemed the pain <strong>of</strong> losingyou when I arrived in Campania, and especially atNaples and when I saw your Pompeii.I see you with1Ep. 87.
128 SENECAextraordinary distinctness, especially as you were whenI was quitting you. I see you swallowing your tearsand attempting in vain to show no signs <strong>of</strong> the strongemotion you felt. I seem but yesterday to have lostyou. But to those who remember, what may not be called'yesterday ' ?Only yesterday I sat as a boy underSotion the philosopher, yesterday Ibegan to plead causes,yesterday I ceased to wish to plead, yesterday I becameunable to plead. Infinite is the swiftness <strong>of</strong> time. Wesee this most clearly when we look back, for it escapesthe notice <strong>of</strong> men intent on the present, so unbroken andcontinuous is time's headlong flight. The reason is this.All time past is in the same position ; you may regard itas a whole, it is spread before you and uniform all :thingsbelonging to it are merged in the same abyss, nor, whenthe whole is brief, can long intervals within it exist.Our actual life is a point, less than a point but; nature,to make it seem longer, has divided it into parts. Oneshe has made infancy, another childhood, another youth,another the interval between youth and old age, anotherold age itself. How many degrees in so narrow a space !But a little time ago I was in your company, yet thislittle time is a considerable part <strong>of</strong> our life ;on thebrevity <strong>of</strong> which we should constantly meditate. I usednot to think the passage <strong>of</strong> Time so rapid. Now itsflight seems to me incredibly swift ;whether it is thatI see the goal approaching, or whether I have begun tonotice and reckon up all I lose.^And inPompeii againown youth.a later letter he relates how the sight <strong>of</strong>recalled to him Lucilius and hisLucilius raised himself from small beginningsby his own industry and talents. During thereigns <strong>of</strong> Caligula and Claudius he is said tohave played a difficult part with honour to him-1Ep» 49.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 129self, to have refused to flatter the reigningfavourites, and to have risked his hfe throughfidehty to his friends. ^ Under Nero he becameProcurator <strong>of</strong> Sicily, and it was from that islandthat he corresponded with <strong>Seneca</strong>. <strong>Seneca</strong> warnshim so earnestly against ambition and the danger<strong>of</strong> listening to flatterers,that we may fairly conjecturethat this warning indicates the presence<strong>of</strong> corresponding infirmities in the man to whomit was addressed. But he praises his temperance,modesty, and disinterestedness.Lucilius from his youth gave much <strong>of</strong> histime to liberal studies, and especially to poetryand philosophy. While he was in Sicily he wrote,at the suggestion <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, a poem on Aetna,which is still extant.^ In this poem Lucihus1Sen., Nat. Quaest. iv. in Praef.circumstances to which he alludes.<strong>Seneca</strong> does not explain the*The authorship has been disputed, especially by Lipsius ;but the identification seems almost established. It isprobablethat Cornelius Severus, a poet <strong>of</strong> the Augustan age, whom<strong>Seneca</strong> mentions together with Virgil and Ovid as havingtreated the subject, and to whom the poem has in consequencebeen attributed, like Virgil and Ovid only introduced a description<strong>of</strong> Aetna into one <strong>of</strong> his poems and in any case he;cannot have been the author <strong>of</strong> the existing work which containswords first used in a later generation. On the other hand, thecoincidences with <strong>Seneca</strong> are so striking that those who holdthat the poem was written by Severus have been driven to thehypothesis that <strong>Seneca</strong> borrowed from it some <strong>of</strong> his ideas inthe Naturales Quaestiones. Here we have, on the one hand,a poem written on the subject <strong>of</strong> Aetna by a philosopher <strong>of</strong>the Epicurean school, and from the style and language bearingthe marks <strong>of</strong> the Neronian age and <strong>of</strong> the school <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> ;and on the other, a Lucilius Junior who is not only procurator<strong>of</strong> Sicily, a poet, and an Epicurean philosopher <strong>of</strong> the age <strong>of</strong>Nero, but one to whom <strong>Seneca</strong> suggests that he should writea poem on this very subject. Such is a summary <strong>of</strong> part <strong>of</strong>the evidence.
130 SENECAtreats his subject in a scientific and philosophicalspirit, discarding, not in silence Uke Lucan, butwith open contempt, all supernatural explanations<strong>of</strong> the phenomena. The poets, he tells us, vainlyimagined the pallid kingdom <strong>of</strong> Pluto beneaththe ashes, the waters <strong>of</strong> Styx with Cerberus, thegiant Tityos spread over seven acres, Tantaluswith his eternal thirst foiled by the retreatingwater, Ixion and the wheel, Minos and his judgments.Not content with this they pry intothe manners <strong>of</strong> the gods, and picture them full<strong>of</strong> worse than human lusts and passions. Butas for me, he continues, ' truth is my only care.'<strong>Seneca</strong> says the same thing in prose :Remember [he says to Marcia]that evil exists notfor the dead. All those tales <strong>of</strong> infernal regions arefables invented to terrify us. For the dead there isneither darkness nor prison, nor rivers <strong>of</strong> fire, nor Lethe,nor tribunals, nor accused. In that free state there areno fresh tyrants. These things are the fond imaginations<strong>of</strong> poets who delude us into emptyfears. Deathis alike the reward and the end <strong>of</strong> all pain ; beyonditour sufferings cannot extend ;it replaces us in thatstate <strong>of</strong> perfect tranquillity which was ours before wewere born. If we pity the dead, we should pity thoseunborn.And again, in the treatise De Vita Beata hespeaks <strong>of</strong> the — folly <strong>of</strong> poets who impute every viceto Jupiter making him a parricide, a usurper,and a seducer. Their motive must be, he says,men by such examples from any senseto relieve<strong>of</strong> guiltin their own actions.^1Beata, 26.Aetna, 72-89 ; <strong>Seneca</strong>, Cons, ad Marc. 19: DeVita
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 131For <strong>Seneca</strong> philosophy was divided intotwobranches, the one concerned with human andthe other with divine matters. The former iswhat we should now call moral philosophy orethics ;the latter natural science. For the purelyspeculative part <strong>of</strong> philosophy, for all that hadno bearing either upon the conduct <strong>of</strong> humanlife or upon the order <strong>of</strong> nature, he felt not onlyindifference but an impatient contempt.Lucilius,on the other hand, was much more attracted bymetaphysics. He enjoyed the logical puzzles,paradoxes, and distinctions <strong>of</strong> the schools, andwas constantly endeavouring in his letters toentice <strong>Seneca</strong> into abstract discussions. Again,in the matter <strong>of</strong> style, to which Lucilius attacheda high importance, <strong>Seneca</strong> istoo muchconstantly impressingupon him the danger <strong>of</strong> paying'attention to words. Ovatio vultus animi est,'*he says. Speech is the countenance <strong>of</strong> the soul ;if it is over-polished and coloured and, so tospeak, manipulated, one infers that the soul alsois unsound and feeble.' Constantly he returns tothese topics, and dwells on the waste <strong>of</strong> timeinvolved in idle exercises <strong>of</strong> ingenuity.How do they help me ?[he asks]. Do they make mebraver, more just, more temperate? I have no leisurefor such exercises ;I still need a doctor. Why teachme this useless science ? You promise great things ; yougive me small ones. You told me I should be fearlesswhen swords were glancing around me, when the dagger'spoint was at my throat ; you said I should be withoutconcern in fire or shipwreck. Teach me to despisepleasure and glory when I have learnt that, we may;
132 SENECAproceed to the solution <strong>of</strong> riddles, to nice distinctions,to the elucidation <strong>of</strong> obscurities ;for the present let uskeep to the essential.^To understand <strong>Seneca</strong>'s reiterated inp^istencein these letters on the vital necessity <strong>of</strong> a mentaldiscipline which should brace the mind againstall that might befall, and prepare a man t<strong>of</strong>ace death at any moment at the hands <strong>of</strong> atyrant, we must remember that they were writtenat a time when these trials were becomingincreasingly possible for every man <strong>of</strong> mark.Philosophy, he is always saying,is concernedwith action, not with words ;and the test <strong>of</strong>pr<strong>of</strong>iciency is the concordance <strong>of</strong> practice withtheory. It teaches us to distinguish realitiesfrom appearances. Death, for instance, maycome through a tyrant or a fever, pain throughdisease or an executioner ;such differences cannotchange their nature, they are still but deathand pain. Yet we fear them far more in theone case than in the other, for it is the pompand circumstance <strong>of</strong> things and not the thingsthemselves that form the subjects <strong>of</strong> our fear.^'Remember,' he tells him, ' that there is nothingadmirable in man except his soul, to which whengreat all other things are small.' ^ Wisdom consistsin constancy <strong>of</strong> will — a constancy unalter-1Ep. 109. In tliis long controversy between the rhetoriciansand philosophers, between 'the artists <strong>of</strong> the pure form <strong>of</strong> speechand the investigators <strong>of</strong> the inmost nature <strong>of</strong> things,' <strong>Seneca</strong>, indirect opposition to his father's view, was the protagonist <strong>of</strong> thephilosophers. See Friedlander, iii. 3.*'Ef&cientia non effectum spectat timor.'^'Cogita in te, praeter animum,magno nihil magnum est ' {Ep. 8).niliil esse mirabile : cui
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 133able by external circumstances. It is thus thatthe service <strong>of</strong> philosophy becomes the only truefreedom. This constancy can only be acquiredby continual attention to realities — the spinning<strong>of</strong> syllogisms and the ravelling and unravelling<strong>of</strong>academical knots are nothing to the purpose.It is the first sign <strong>of</strong> a weak and untrained mindto dread the unexperienced. To banish this dreadshould be the chief end <strong>of</strong> our endeavours. Weshall find our medicine pleasant to the taste,it is one that pleases while itheals.forA happy life [he says] is founded in a freedom fromconcern and an abiding tranquillity. These are the gifts<strong>of</strong> greatness <strong>of</strong> soul, and <strong>of</strong> a steady persistence in whathas been well resolved. We may reach this goal ifwe behold truth as a whole,if in all we do we preserveorder, moderation, fitness, and a will guiltless and kindly,looking to Reason for guidance and never departingfrom her precepts, which are alike lovable and wondrous.. . , Let the man who finds his chief goodin tastesand colours and sounds renounce the fellowship <strong>of</strong> themost glorious <strong>of</strong> living beings second only to the gods ;and join dumb animals rejoicing in their pasture. . . .No man is free who is the slave <strong>of</strong> his body. Fornot only does his anxiety on its behalf throw him intothe power <strong>of</strong> all those who can injure it, but it is itselfa surly and exacting commander. The free spiritsometimes quits it with calm indifference, sometimessprings from it with a generous ardour, and in eithercase cares as little for its future destiny as we do forthat <strong>of</strong> the bristles <strong>of</strong> our beards after shaving.^<strong>Seneca</strong>'s counselsThough the main object <strong>of</strong>was to prepare his friend to meet with forti-1Ep. 92.
134 SENECAtude whatever fate might have in store forhim, he does not neglect the humbler warnings<strong>of</strong> prudence. He advises him to live as retireda life as possible,to avoid singularity, to occupyhimself as little as possible with politics whileavoiding a conspicuous withdrawal from them,for this too excites suspicion, and to be cautiouswith whom he conversed.For your greater security [he writes] I would have youobserve certain precautions, which you must take fromme as though I were prescribing rules for the preservation<strong>of</strong> your health when living in your Ardeatine villa.Reflect what are the motives which incite a man tothe destruction <strong>of</strong> another :you will find them to behope, envy, hatred, fear, or contempt.He proceeds to give admirable advice as tohow to avoid exciting these emotions in theminds <strong>of</strong> others ;but ends by saying that, afterall, every man's best securityis his innocence,and that the guilty, though they sometimeschance to escape, can never feel sure <strong>of</strong> doing so.The man ispunished who expects punishment ;and whoever deserves it expectsit. Thus the<strong>of</strong> their folliesimprudent always suffer the penaltyand crimes. But if all these precautions aretaken, can I ?guarantee your safety I can nomore promise you that, replies <strong>Seneca</strong>, than I canhealth to a man who takes duepromise perpetualcare <strong>of</strong> himself .^ Roman senators during the lasthalf <strong>of</strong> Nero's principate lived under a sword <strong>of</strong>Damocles comparable to that which threatenedFrench aristocrats during the Reign<strong>of</strong> Terror.>Ep. 14.
SENECA IN RETIREMENT 135'Palpitantibus praecordiis vivitur.' The mission <strong>of</strong><strong>Seneca</strong> was to give courage to the despairing, toteach them to meet death with fortitude, and toconvince them that no man need be a slave, sincethe liberty to die could not be taken from him.Thus the great refuge from tyranny was selfdestruction,the right to which he asserts time'and again with terrible earnestness. There arepr<strong>of</strong>essors <strong>of</strong> wisdom,' he writes, 'to whom it isanathema to <strong>of</strong>fer violence to our own persons orcut short our own lives. We must wait till Naturereleases us. Those who say this do not see thatthey are barring the way to liberty. The eternallaw contains nothing better than this, that ithasgiven us only one entrance into life but manyexits.' 'No one is justified in complaining <strong>of</strong> life,for no one is obliged to live. Are you content ?Then live. Not contf^^-n^ ? You may return whenceyou came. ' ^ 'And later in the same letter, The wayto that great liberty isopened with a bodkin : oursafety is contained in a prick.' ^And again in the'De Ira : Wherever you cast your eyes youwill find the end <strong>of</strong> your Do ills. you see thatprecipice ? It is the descent to liberty. That sea ?that river ? that well ? Beneath their waters libertylies concealed. Do you see that little misshapentree ?There hangs liberty.'^*Ep. 68 : Hoc est unum, cur de vita non possumus queri;'neminem tenet. . . . Placet ? vive. Non placet? licet eo revertiunde venisti.'' ' Scalpello aperitur ad illam magnam libertatem via : etpuncto securitas constat.' Cp. Hamlet, 'When he himself mayquietus make with a bare bodkin.'3De Ira, ii.15.
CHAPTER XILETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA— SENECA'SRICHES AND APOLOGIA<strong>Seneca</strong> was greatly interested in an expeditionround Sicily made by Lucilius, and the letter inwhich he speaks <strong>of</strong> it may be given in full, notonly as an illustration <strong>of</strong> his inquiring and speculativemind, but because in it he makes the firstsuggestion <strong>of</strong> the poem on Aetna :I am waiting for your letters to hear what new discoveriesyou have made in sailing round Sicily, andespecially what fuller information you can give meabout Charybdis. For I know very well that Scyllais a rock and not very formidable to navigators, but Iam anxious to hear from you whether Charybdis answersto her reputation in story. If you happen to haveobserved it (and it is worthy <strong>of</strong> observation),whether the whirlpools appear when the wind isquarter only,tell mein oneor if that sea is afflicted with them inevery kind <strong>of</strong> weather and also if it is true that ; anythingdrawn into that vortex is carried many milesunder water and only reappears near the coast <strong>of</strong> Tauromenium.After you have written fully to me <strong>of</strong> aU this,Ishall venture to commission you further, for my sake,to ascend Aetna, which is said to have been formerlyseen by navigators from a greater distance than now,whence the inference is drawn that it is consuming
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 137away and gradually subsiding. But the cause may ratherbe that the fire has died away and bursts forth withless force and magnitude than formerly, the smoke alsobecoming more sluggish for the same reason. Neither<strong>of</strong> these theories is incredible ;the one that themountain by daily consumption is becoming less, theother that the fire does not remain the same— the firethat does not spring from the mountain itself but boilsup from some underground pit where it is generatedand fed from below, the mountain itself yielding it notahment but a passage. There is a well-known districtin Lycia, called Hephaestion by the inhabitants, wherethe soil is perforated in several places, and a perfectlyharmless fire runs round it which does no injury tothe plants. So the country is fertile and grassy, nothingis scorched by the flames, which gHmmer but faintlyand have no force. But let us reserve these thingsfor another time, and then when you write to me onthe subject I shall also ask how far the snows, whicheven summer cannot melt, much less the volcanic fires,are distant from the crater's mouth. And you have noright to impute this trouble to me, for if no one hadcommissioned you to do so you suffer from a certainmalady which would not have allowed you to rest tillyou had described Aetna in a poem and approached thisground sacred for ail poets. That Virgil had alreadydone full justice to this subject did not prevent Ovidfrom handlingit ;nor did both <strong>of</strong> them together deterSeverus Cornelius. So happy a material does this placeafford to all, that those who have gone before appearto me not to have anticipated all that can be said, butto have opened the way. It makes a great differencewhether your subject has been exhausted or only treated ;in the latter case itgrows as time goes on, and the invention<strong>of</strong> former writers is no obstacle to that <strong>of</strong> theirsuccessors. Moreover, the latter are placed in the bestposition. They find words ready for use, and by arrangingthese differently can give them a new appearance ;nor do they steal them as ifthey belonged to others.
138 SENECAfor they are public property. Lawyers deny that anypublic property can be appropriated by prescription. Iam mistaken in you if Aetna does not whet your appetite.Already you are wishing to write something great andequal to the work <strong>of</strong> your predecessors — equal, I say,for j^our modesty does not allow you to hope for more ;a modesty so great that I think you would rather withholdsomething from the full force <strong>of</strong> your genius thanrun the risk <strong>of</strong> surpassing them, so high is your reverencefor the elder poets. Wisdom has this good point amongthe rest, that no one can be surpassed therein by anotherexcept during the ascent. When you reach the summitall are equal, there is no room for an increase, a halt ismade. Can the sun add aught to his greatness ? Canthe moon wax further than she is wont ? The seas donot increase ;the universe preserves the same habit andmeasure. Whatever has completed its natural magnitudecannot gain in stature. Wise men, in so far aswise, are equal and on a level. Each <strong>of</strong> them mayhave his own proper gifts: one will be more easy<strong>of</strong> access, another readier, another more fluent, anothermore eloquent ;that wisdom <strong>of</strong> which we are speaking,that only source <strong>of</strong> happiness, will be equal in all. Whetheryour Aetna can sink down and fall in upon itself, orwhether the constant action <strong>of</strong> the fire can draw downthis l<strong>of</strong>ty summit, so conspicuous over a wide expanse<strong>of</strong> sea, I know not ; neither flame nor crumbling awaycan lower the height <strong>of</strong> virtue. This is the one majestythat can never be degraded ; it can be neither extendednor reduced. Its magnitude is fixed, like that <strong>of</strong> theheavenly bodies. To her let us endeavour to raiseourselves : much is already done, or rather, to confessthe truth, not much. For it is not goodness to be betterthan the worst. Who boasts <strong>of</strong> eyes that shrink fromdayhght ? for which the sun shines through a mist ?Though he may be satisfied to have escaped from totaldarkness, he does not yet enjoy the full light <strong>of</strong> day.Then will our soul have cause for rejoicing when escapingfrom the darkness in which it was involved, it sees no
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 139longer dimly and uncertainl}^ but admits the perfectlight ; when it is restored to its heavenly home and hasrecovered the place to which it was born. Our soul'sorigin calls it heavenward. It will gain heaven evenbeiore it is loosed from these bonds if it fling away itsfaults and emerge unstained and untrammelled into thecontemplation <strong>of</strong> the divine mysteries. This is whatwe should do, my dearest Lucilius ;toward this endshould we strain with our whole strength, though fewknow what we do, and none see us. Gloryis the shadow•<strong>of</strong> virtup it willaccompany even those who shun it. Butjust as a shadow sometimes goes before and sometimesfollows after, so glory is sometimes before us and <strong>of</strong>fersitself to the view, but at other times holds back untilenvy has passed away, when it appears the greater forhaving come late. How long Democritus seemed amadman ! Fame scarce welcomed Socrates. How longwas Cato ignored by the State It !rejected him, and onlyunderstood when it had lost him. Had Rutilius neversuffered wrong his innocence and virtue would have remainedhidden ;he became famous through the violencedone to him. Did he not thank his fortune and embracehis exile ? I speak <strong>of</strong> those whom Fortune by persecutionhas rendered illustrious in their lifetime ;how manyare those whose accomplishments have become knownonly after their death ! howreceived but dragged out You !many whom Fame has notsee how greatly notmerely the learned, but this whole throng <strong>of</strong> theunlearned, admire Epicurus. He was quite unknownat Athens itself, where he lived in obscurity. Manyyears after the death <strong>of</strong> his friend Metrodorus, speakingin one <strong>of</strong> his letters with grateful recollection <strong>of</strong> theiramong so many ad-—friendship, he ends with this thatvantagesit was <strong>of</strong> no disservice to Metrodorus and himselfthat they lived in that famous country <strong>of</strong> Greece, notonly unknown, but almost unheard. Did he on this accountremain undiscovered after he had ceased to exist ?Did not his opinions then shine forth ? Metrodorus alsoconfesses in one <strong>of</strong> his letters that Epicurus and himself
140 SENECAwere less audible than they should have been, butforetold that they would have a great and estabhshedname among those who were willing to follow in theirfootsteps. No virtue remains concealed ; to have l^inconcealed is no loss. The day will come which willreveal what is hidden and suppressed by the maUgnityThe man who thinks only <strong>of</strong> his own genera-<strong>of</strong> the age.tion is born for few. Many thousands <strong>of</strong> years, manythousands <strong>of</strong> peoples, will come after : look to them.Even if all your contemporaries are silent through envy,there will come those who will judge you without favouror prejudice. If Fame can <strong>of</strong>fer any reward to virtue,neither will this be lost. The verdict <strong>of</strong> posterity, indeed,will be nothing to us ; yet posterity will honour us andresort to us though we perceiveit not. Virtue willrequite us whether alive or dead, if only we follow herin good faith, if we adorn not ourselves with the falseand meretricious, but remain the same whether we haveto act in a conspicuous position and after due warning ;or suddenly and unprepared. Simulation pr<strong>of</strong>its nothing.A false exterior adopted for appearance' sake imposessuperficially upon a few ;truth isalways the same inall her parts. There is no soHdity in the things thatdeceive. A lie is thin; if you look closely you can seethrough it.^<strong>Seneca</strong> was immensely rich. His gardens(' <strong>Seneca</strong>e praedivitis hortos ' ^), his villas, his furniturewere renowned ;and although he was completelyfree from the grosser forms <strong>of</strong> self-indulgenceand was personally simple to the point <strong>of</strong> austerityi-in his manner <strong>of</strong> life, these riches and the elegance<strong>of</strong> his surroundings laid him open to a charge <strong>of</strong>inconsistency between his theory and his practice,which was pressed home by his enemies duringhislifetime, and has never ceased to be repeated*Ep. 79,^Juv. ix.
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 141by later critics, '^^ut to supposethat <strong>Seneca</strong>thought riches an evil in themselves — as the firstChristians, who were his contemporaries andwhose teaching resembles his on many otherpoints, really did think — is to misunderstand hiswhole doctrine. Things in themselves, accordingto the <strong>Stoic</strong>s, are neither good nor evil, but onlythe use we make <strong>of</strong> them and the manner inwhich we regard and handle them. They arethe material, not the substance, <strong>of</strong> goodand evil.A wise man may possess riches so long as heregards himself merely as Fortune's banker, andis ready to yield them up at her demand withas littleregret as a banker pays out the deposits<strong>of</strong> his clients. The dangeris lest the rich manshould confound his shirt with his skin and regardhis possessions as part <strong>of</strong> himself. If he does notdo this he may without inconsistency prefer richesthat exile isto poverty, just as he may denyan evil, and yetif it be in his power spend his lifethink a shortin his native land, or as he mayHfe as desirable as a long, and yet may live to atranquil old age. The reason, indeed, for thinkinglightly <strong>of</strong> such things is not that we may ridourselves <strong>of</strong> them, but that we may enjoy themwithout anxiety. The difference between you and)me, wrote <strong>Seneca</strong> to his critics, is that my richest*belong to me; you to your riches.In the treatise De Vita Beata, addressed to hisbrother Gallio, <strong>Seneca</strong> stated with uncompromisingfrankness and force— impossible, one would think,to a disingenuous man— the charges broughtagainst him on this head, and gave his answer.
142 SENECAThe following extracts will enable the reader t<strong>of</strong>orm his own judgment on accusation and defence.The genuine humility <strong>of</strong> the man— rare indeedoutlook and hisamong Romans— his objectivemental detachment, are nowhere more conspicuous.If, then, one <strong>of</strong> these barking critics <strong>of</strong> philosophy'Why are your words so much strongersays to me :than your deeds ? How is it that you talk submissivelyto superiors ;and consider money a necessary means toyour ends, and are affected by its loss ? Why do youweep when you hear <strong>of</strong> the loss <strong>of</strong> a wife or a friend ?Why are you careful <strong>of</strong> your reputation and vexedby slander Why ? that elaborate adornment <strong>of</strong> yourcountry-seats so far beyond the needs <strong>of</strong> nature ?Whyare your banquets not restricted to the limits <strong>of</strong> yourrule ?Why this beautiful furniture, this wine olderthan yourself, these trees that yield nothing but shade ?Why does your wife wear in her ears the fortune <strong>of</strong> arich family Why ? are your attendants clothed in preciousraiment ?Why does the service at your house amountto a fine art, the plate arranged with the utmost skilland attention, the chief carver himself an artist ? ' Youmay add if 'you please Why do you : possess estatesacross the sea ?Why have you slaves whose namesyou know not ?— are you so forgetful that you cannotremember the few there are, or are you so unthriftyas to have more than you can remember ? * I will helpyou to abase me anon and suggest for your use freshobjections which have escaped your attention now:'hear my reply. I am not a wise man, and, so pleaseyour malice, I never shall be. I therefore do not claimto be equal with the best, but only better than theworst. Enough for me if every day I make some littleprogress, and can clearly see and denounce my ownerrors. I am not cured ;I never shall be cured. I contrivepalliations rather than remedies for my malady ;and am content if its attacks become gradually rarer.
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 143Compared to your pace, however, I am a tolerable runner.In what I am going to say I speak not for myself ; forI am sunk in every kind <strong>of</strong> fault, but for one who has madeprogress. This charge <strong>of</strong> inconsistency was broughtby the mahgnant enemies <strong>of</strong> all virtue against Plato,against Epicurus, against Zeno, It is <strong>of</strong> virtue, not <strong>of</strong>myself, that I speak ; I make war upon vices, my ownbefore all others. When I can, may I live as I ought.Your poisonous malice, the gall with which in sprinklingothers you destroy yourselves, shall never affright mefrom communion with the best, or prevent me fromcelebrating — not the life which I lead, but the lifewhich I know should be led— or from adoring virtue andfollowing her footsteps at however vast a distance, evenon my hands and knees. . . . <strong>Philosophers</strong>, it is said,do not practise what they preach. But they practisemuch <strong>of</strong> what they preach and finely conceive. If, indeed,their lives were on a level with their doctrines, what couldequal their felicity ?In the meantime good words anda breast stocked with good thoughts are not to be despised.So excellent a form <strong>of</strong> study, thoughit fail <strong>of</strong> its fulleffect, in itself deserves to be had in honour. Whatwonder that few should reach so difficult a summit ?Yet we ought to respect the climbers, even ifthey slip ;for great is their attempt. The man is generous who,regarding not his own individual strength but that <strong>of</strong>the nature proper to man, conceives in his mind andendeavours to carry out an ideal so high that in practiceit lies beyond the reach even <strong>of</strong> the l<strong>of</strong>tiest <strong>of</strong> the humanrace. Such a man has thus resolved within himself :I will meet death as calmly as I hear <strong>of</strong> it :my soul*supporting my body, there is no labour that I will notundergo. Riches, whether present or absent, I willequally despise ; neither the sadder if I have them not,nor elated ifthey shine in my possession. I shall consideraU land as if it were mine ;my own land as if it belongedto all. I shall live as knowing that I am born for others ;and for this I shall give thanks to Nature. For howcould she better have consulted my interests ? She
144 SENECAgave me to all men ;but she has given all men to me.That which I have I shall neither meanly hoard norfoolishly squander. None <strong>of</strong> my possessions will seem tome more truly my own than what I have well bestowed ;benefits I shall reckon neither by number nor by weight,but by the worth <strong>of</strong> the recipient. I shall never countthe cost <strong>of</strong> what I give to merit. Opinion shall never,and conscience always, guide my actions. ... I will bepleasant to my friends, mild and placable to my enemies,I will forgive before my forgiveness is asked, I willsatisfy all honest petitions.I shall know that the worldis my country with the gods as its rulers, and these Ishall regard as the judges <strong>of</strong> all I do and all I say. Andso whenever Nature takes once more my spirit to herself,or when my reason releases it, I shall go hence bearingwitness that I have loved a good conscience and a goodmanner <strong>of</strong> life, and that none through me have sufferedloss <strong>of</strong> liberty, myself least <strong>of</strong> all.' ^Such was the apologia <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, and we cannotdoubt that it was sincere. His personal habitswere simple to the verge <strong>of</strong> austerity ;the choicewine that he gave to his guests he did not himselftouch ;he was distinguished as a generousfriend to honest poverty, especially among men <strong>of</strong>letters ; nothing is recorded by historians <strong>of</strong> hisfive years <strong>of</strong> power to lead us to question the truth<strong>of</strong> his boast, that by his means no man had beenunjustly deprived <strong>of</strong> liberty.But there was another consideration relatingto the source <strong>of</strong> his wealth which he could notdirectly advance, but which he suggested inseveral other passages in his books. Withoutmortal <strong>of</strong>fence to the emperor he could not haverefused his gifts.In his treatise On ' Benefits '»De Vita Beata, 17, 20.
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 145he lays down the rule that we should not receivefavours except from those on whom, werethe circumstances altered, we would conferthem.It is a burden to incur obligation to those whomwe can neither love nor respect. Thereupon thequestion is raised whether if a brutal and passionatetyrant, who will hold himself insulted by a refusal,<strong>of</strong>fers us a present we are bound to refuse it.The king has the soul, let us say, <strong>of</strong> a robber orpirate and is unworthy that we should accepthis bounty. The answer made is that when weare free to choose we must take nothing fromthe unworthy but that in the case supposed we;are not accepting but obeying,^ and again:To refuse a giftis to incense against ourselves aninsolent monarch, who would have all that comes fromhis hands valued at a high rate. It matters not whetheryou are unwilUng to give to a king or to receive fromhim, the <strong>of</strong>fence is equal in either case, or rather evengraver in the latter, since to the proudto be disdained than not to be feared.^it is more bitterIn another passage <strong>of</strong> the same work he discussesthe question whether gratitudeis due totyrants, and whether their favours should be returned,and answers affirmatively with respect toall cases where this is consistent with the publicweal. If, he says, he had had the misfortune tobe obliged by one who subsequently became themost infamous <strong>of</strong> tyrants, who found a pleasurein shedding human blood and breakingall therights and laws <strong>of</strong> human society, then he wouldfeel aU bonds dissolved between them, because1 De BeneJ.ii. i8.* Ibid., v. 6.
146 SENECAthe duty he owed to humanity must alwaystake precedence <strong>of</strong> an obUgation to a singleindividual.But [he adds] although this is so, and althoughfrom the time when by violating every human rightand so making it impossible for himself to be wrongedby any man, he has made me free to do what I willagainFi; him, yet I shall still reckon myself bound todischarge my debt so far as may stand with my pubhcduty. I must not add to his power for evil ;I must notincrease his destructive forces or confirm those he has.But if without injury to the commonwealth Imayreturn his kindness, I will do so. I would save hisinfant son from death, for that could not injure thevictims <strong>of</strong> his cruelty but I would not contribute a;penny to the support <strong>of</strong> his mercenaries. If he hankerafter marbles and fine raiment, that can do no mischiefto any man, and I will help him to them ; soldiers andarms I will not supply. If he entreat me as a greatkindness to send him comedians and women, and othersuch delights which may temper his brutaUty, I willfind them for him willingly. Though I will not supplyhim with triremes and ships <strong>of</strong> war, he shall haveluxuriously fitted boats <strong>of</strong> pleasure for his amusement.But if I despair altogether <strong>of</strong> his amendment, the samehand shall at one blow discharge my debt to him andconfer a benefit on all mankind, for to such a naturedeath is a remedy, and to speed his departure the onekindness I can do him.^These words were written after <strong>Seneca</strong>'s retirementand shortly before the outbreak <strong>of</strong> the conspiracy<strong>of</strong> Piso, with the aims <strong>of</strong> which, whetheror not, he must unquestionably havehe knew <strong>of</strong> itsympathised.Bythat time Nero had sunk into^De BeneJ. vii. 20.
'jLETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 147an abyss <strong>of</strong> infamy from which it was evidentthat death alone could rescue him.That <strong>Seneca</strong> made a good and generous use \<strong>of</strong> his riches, we have not only his own testimonybut that <strong>of</strong> Juvenal and Martial. And first asto his own. In the De Vita Beata, after explain-\ {Iing that a philosopher may legitimately be rich, ,;provided that his riches are \honourably acquired,taken from no man, earned at the expense <strong>of</strong> jno man's sufferings, stained with no blood, andspent as honourably as they were 'gained, he adds\that they should not be rejected, unless either |they are thought by their possessor to be useless,or unless he confesses that he does not knowhow to use them. This brings him to a descriptionthus :<strong>of</strong> their proper employment, and he proceedsHe will give either to the good,or to those whom hecan make good. He will take the greatest trouble todiscover the worthiest and give to them, as one whoremembers that he must account not only for what he hasreceived but for what he has spent. He will give for goodand adequate reasons, since an ill-bestowed gift must becounted as a bad form <strong>of</strong> wastefulness. His purse will beopen indeed, but have no holes in it ;much wiU comefrom it, but nothing fall. It is a mistake to suppose thatbounty is an easy art. If it is thoughtfully given, ifthere is no promiscuous squandering,it is on the contrarymost difficult. I oblige one man, I discharge my obligationsto another, I come to the aid <strong>of</strong> a third, I takepity on a fourth. I find one whose poverty binds himto —occupations unworthy <strong>of</strong> his abilities I releasehim from that poverty. To some, even though theyare in need, I wiU not give, because, whatever I give,they mil always be in need ;to others I will <strong>of</strong>fer aid
148 SENECAthough they have not asked it ;on others, again, Iwill press it though they refuse. 1 cannot be carelessin this matter ;I never invest with more care than instock <strong>of</strong> tliis nature. Do you expect interest, then ?I am asked. Well, at least, I do not wish to throw myinvestment away. I wish so to place my donation thatthough I must never seek a return, yet I may believea return to be possible. It should resemble a buriedtreasure which you do not disinter unless it be necessary.What an opportunity for kindness may not a rich manfind in his own household— for why should our liberalitybe confined to the free ? Nature bids us do good untoall men, whether free legally, or virtually by our consent :wherever there is a man, there is room for kindness.-^— - Such were <strong>Seneca</strong>'s views, instinct with hiscustomary good sense and moderation, on thesubject <strong>of</strong> almsgiving and the use <strong>of</strong> money.They have a modern ring, and would have qualifiedhim in the island <strong>of</strong> Britain eighteen hundred yearslater for high <strong>of</strong>fice in the Charity OrganisationSociety. We have some evidence that, in thisinstance at least, his practice was on a level withhis precepts.No one [wrote Juvenal, some twenty years afterwards]now expects to receive what <strong>Seneca</strong> used tosend to very humble friends, or what the good Pisoor Gotta used to give ;for in those days a bountifuldisposition was thought to add lustre to honours andtitles.^And Martial, whose Spanish origin may haverecommended him to<strong>Seneca</strong>, in the same vein regretsin two <strong>of</strong> his epigrams the spacious days <strong>of</strong>Piso and <strong>Seneca</strong> and Memmius, whom he prefers1De Vita Beata, 24.'Juv. v. 108.
LETTER TO LUCILIUS ON AETNA 149to the most liberal patrons <strong>of</strong> his own time.^Three other <strong>of</strong> Martial's epigrams are addressedto Lucan's widow Polla, so that it is clear that hisfriendship with <strong>Seneca</strong>'s family did not end withthe philosopher's death.^*Martial, iv. 40; xii. 36.* Ibid., vii. 21, 22, 23.
CHAPTER XIITHE CONSPIRACY OF PISO AND THE DEATHOF SENECA, A.D. 64-65The last public <strong>of</strong>fice held by <strong>Seneca</strong> was that<strong>of</strong> consul suffedus, which he shared with TrebelliusMaximus. During their consulship a senatusconsultum was passed to protect executors ortrustees, who by a legal fiction were technicallythe sole heirs <strong>of</strong> the estates which theyadministered, from liabilities attaching to suchestates, on the principle that no man ought tosuffer on account <strong>of</strong> a trust which he has faithfullydischarged.^ Trebellius was afterwards governor<strong>of</strong> Britain, where his inactivity and want <strong>of</strong>military experience made him unpopular withthe army. The date <strong>of</strong> this consulship is generallyassigned to the year 62, on the insufficient groundthat Tacitus makes mention <strong>of</strong> a decree passed1 'Ins. Tit. 23 (4) Neronis quidem temporibus, Trebellio:Maximo et Annaeo <strong>Seneca</strong> coss. senatus-consultum factum est,quo cautum est, ut, si haereditas ex fidei-commissi causa restitutasit, actiones, quae jure civili haeredi et in haeredem competerent,ei et in eum darentur, cui ex fidei-commisso restituta esset haereditas.Post quod senatus-consultum, praetor utiles actiones eiet in eum qui recepit haereditatem, quasi haeredi et in haeredem,dare coepit.'
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 151by the Senate in that year for the restraint <strong>of</strong>fictitious adoptions.^The year 64, though a year <strong>of</strong> peace, was onefor Rome. From the time when<strong>of</strong> calamityTigeUinus had succeeded to the power andinfluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> and Burrhus, the progress<strong>of</strong> Nero in the path <strong>of</strong> infamy had become evermore rapid. Early in this year he sang on thestage <strong>of</strong> the theatre at Naples, choosing thatcity for his first public appearance because itspopulation was Greek. Thence he designed togo to Greece, the home <strong>of</strong> the arts, and competefor prizes at the historical festivals; butabandoned that project for the time. He thenreturned to Rome and made preparations for avisit to Egypt but, to the great joy <strong>of</strong> the populace,who thought that his presence in Rome;secured their supply <strong>of</strong> amusements and provisions,he changed his mind as to this also and remainedin the city. Charmed with this evidence <strong>of</strong> thepopularity he always coveted, and inferring thatit was more easily and more agreeably gainedby the methods <strong>of</strong> TigeUinus than by thoserecommended by <strong>Seneca</strong>, he thereupon plungedinto the wildest excesses <strong>of</strong> luxury, extravagance,and open debauchery. He entertained thecitizens at gorgeous banquets in public places,1 It seems unlikely that <strong>Seneca</strong> should have been namedconsul by the emperor in the year <strong>of</strong> the death <strong>of</strong> Burrhus andhis own partial disgrace. On the other hand, we know thatNero refused to accept his resignation, and may at that time havedesignated him consul as a mark <strong>of</strong> continued confidence. MoreoverTrebellius, who was governor <strong>of</strong> Britain at the time <strong>of</strong> Nero'sdeath, would probably have received this appointment not verylong after holding the consulship.
152 SENECAseemed to regard, in Tacitus' phrase, the wholecity as his house, and prostituted the noblestRomans to the pleasures <strong>of</strong> the mob.There followed the great fire, in the course<strong>of</strong> which the greater part <strong>of</strong> Rome was burntto the ground. Nero, who was reported to havewatched the flames from the tower <strong>of</strong> Maecenaswith aesthetic delight, while he chanted in costumea poem <strong>of</strong> his own composition on the destruction<strong>of</strong> Troy, was accused <strong>of</strong> having himself contrivedthe fire. Incendiaries were seen in the confusionrushing about with torches in their hands,stopping attempts to extinguish the fire, andcrying out that they had authority for whatthey were doing. These were probably robbers,but they were widely believed to be emissaries<strong>of</strong> the emperor. Nero, alarmed at the loss <strong>of</strong>his darling popularity, was roused to unwontedefforts. He threw open his gardens and theCampus Martins to the homeless multitude, andran up hastily built shelters for their reception ;he imported necessaries from Ostia and theneighbouring towns ;he supplied the peoplewith food at the lowest prices. Finally, hesought to divert suspicion from himself by accusingthe new and unpopular sect <strong>of</strong> Christians<strong>of</strong> the crime, and after having by torture extractedconfessions from some among them, largenumbers were arrested on their information andput to horrible deaths. He illuminated hisgardens at night with the burning bodies <strong>of</strong>these victims, and in the habit <strong>of</strong> a charioteermingled with the throng at the circus games,
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 153where the Christian martyrs, clad in the skins <strong>of</strong>wild beasts, were torn to pieces by his hounds.Whether or not Nero was concerned in theburning <strong>of</strong> Rome, the catastrophe allowed himto satisfy his passion for the grandiose in therebuilding <strong>of</strong> Rome, and especially <strong>of</strong> his ownpalace, on a magnificent scale. The old city withits tall houses and narrow winding streets wasgone, and broad regular thoroughfares with houses<strong>of</strong> moderate height, built <strong>of</strong> stone and frontedby colonnades, were laid out in its place. Atthe same time a fire-brigade and an improvedwater-supply were organised. For the erection<strong>of</strong> his own ' Golden House,' with its gardens andlakes, its woods and solitudes, its open spacesand prospects, a large area was reserved, andeven the Romans <strong>of</strong> that day, accustomed asthey were to every form <strong>of</strong> idle display, wereamazed at its superb extravagance.This reckless prodigality, coinciding as itdid with the great destruction <strong>of</strong> wealth dueto the fire, was followed by the inevitable consequences.The treasury was exhausted, and couldonly be refilled by injustice and oppression.Italy, says Tacitus, was devastated, the provincesruined. The gods themselves did not escape, forthe temples were despoiled <strong>of</strong> their treasures andtheir images, and ancient historical memorialsruthlessly destroyed in both Italy and Greece.<strong>Seneca</strong>, who, though he had lost all influence,had never been allowed entirely to break hisconnection with the government, protested againstthese proceedings, and, when his protests were
154 SENECAdisregarded, made a last effort to obtain permissionto withdraw into some distant retreat.When this was refused, he made his health apretext for not quitting his bed-chamber, andis said to have guarded himself against Nero'sattempts to poison him by reducing his diet towater and the simplest food, the source <strong>of</strong> whichhe could control. This is the last notice we have<strong>of</strong> his intervention in public affairs.The following year (65), the last <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'sHfe, was marked by the great conspiracy <strong>of</strong> Pisoand the ruthless proscription <strong>of</strong> senators andothers that followed its discovery. Piso, the head<strong>of</strong> the ancient and illustrious Calpurnian family,had been favoured alike by nature and by fortune,and was perhaps the most popular man in Rome.With a handsome countenance and a gracefulperson he showed courtesy to all, and indulgedthe love <strong>of</strong> magnificence which he combined withliterary tastes in a pr<strong>of</strong>usion which concihatedthe affections and gained the admiration <strong>of</strong> apleasure-loving age. He was a generous patron<strong>of</strong> men <strong>of</strong> letters, and was bracketed with hisfriend <strong>Seneca</strong> in regretful reminiscence by theFlavian poets. He was, moreover, famed for hiseloquence, which he had employed in pleadingthe cause <strong>of</strong> citizens in the Forum. With allthese advantages Piso was too indolent and easygoingto make a good chief <strong>of</strong> an enterprise thatrequired energy, active ambition, and resolutionto bringit to a successful issue.The object <strong>of</strong> the conspiracy was the death<strong>of</strong> Nero and the transfer <strong>of</strong> the Empireto Piso.
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 155The conspirators were many in number, and forthe most part <strong>of</strong> senatorial or equestrian rank.They included the consul designate PlautiusLateranus ; Lucan, the poet who, forbidden byNero to publish or recite his poetry, had alreadyavenged himself in secret by the invective againstthe tyranny <strong>of</strong> the Caesars contained in the laterbooks <strong>of</strong> the Pharsalia ;Subrius Flavins, a tribune<strong>of</strong> the praetorian guard; Senecio, who had beenan intimate friend <strong>of</strong> Nero's ;and Fenius Rufus,the colleague <strong>of</strong> Tigellinus in his praetorian command.Various schemes, dictated by their respectivetemperaments, were suggested by oneor other <strong>of</strong> the plotters. Some were for boldlyattacking the emperor while he was singing onthe public stage, trusting for success to the disgustso widely felt for these performances but the;desire for impunit}^ 'ever adverse to great enterprises,'led others to prefer a scheme for settingfire to the palace, when Nero might be slain inthe midst <strong>of</strong> the ensuing confusion. While theconspirators were discussing these proposals anddisputing with one another, the indiscretion <strong>of</strong> awoman named Epicharis nearly led to the discovery<strong>of</strong> the plot. Volusius Proculus, who hadbeen among those employed by Nero in the murder<strong>of</strong> his mother, was a naval <strong>of</strong>ficer <strong>of</strong> the fleet atMisenum in high command. Dissatisfied withthe manner in which his guilty services had beenrewarded, he complained <strong>of</strong> his wrongs to Epicharis,and spoke <strong>of</strong> revenge. This woman, who was inthe secret <strong>of</strong> the plot, was induced by his wordsto hope that she might obtain for her friends
156 SENECAthis important recruit, and so, without betrayingthe names <strong>of</strong> the conspirators, sufficiently indicatedwhat was afoot to lead him to report to the emperorwhat he had heard. Epicharis was summonedto Rome and confronted with the informer who,however, found it impossible to confute her resolutedenials. Nero's suspicions had nevertheless beenaroused, and Epicharis was detained in custody.This alarm determined the conspirators tohasten their attempt. Nero was about to be Piso'sguest in his villa at Baiae, and the opportunityseemed to many <strong>of</strong> them an excellent one forcarrying out their designs. But Piso refused toviolate, after the manner <strong>of</strong> Macbeth, the laws''<strong>of</strong> hospitality. Better,' he said, that the deedshould be done in the city, in that detested housefounded on the spoils <strong>of</strong> citizens. What wasdone for the sake <strong>of</strong> the republic should be doneopenly.' At last they resolved to execute theirplot at the Circus' games, where Nero was moreaccessible than at other times. Lateranus, onpretence <strong>of</strong> a petition, was to fall at the knees <strong>of</strong>the emperor and, seizing them, to overturn him,when the other conspirators would attack himwith their daggers. Piso, who was to await eventsat the Temple <strong>of</strong> Ceres, was then to be summonedto the camp by Fenius the prefect and by others,and proclaimed emperor. The first blow was tobe struck by Flavins Scevinus, a conspirator<strong>of</strong> senatorial rank, who had consecrated to thisend a dagger in the Temple <strong>of</strong> Safety, and nowwithdrew it for its work.To the imprudence <strong>of</strong> Scevinus the discovery
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 157<strong>of</strong> the conspiracy was due. On the day beforethat fixed upon for the execution <strong>of</strong> the plot,after a long conference with his fellow-conspiratorNatalis, he returned home, signed his will, andcomplaining <strong>of</strong> the rustiness <strong>of</strong> the dagger whichhe had withdrawn from the temple, ordered hisfreedman Milichus to sharpen it. There followeda dinner <strong>of</strong> unwonted splendour and numerouslyattended, when it was evident to all that thehost had something on his mind, and the gaietywhich he affected appeared forced and unnatural.Afterwards he emancipated his favourite slaves,and gave presents <strong>of</strong> money to others ; and,lastly, he bade Milichus prepare bandages forwounds, and all that was necessary for stoppingthe flow <strong>of</strong> blood. All these circumstances rousedthe suspicions <strong>of</strong> Milichus. The hope <strong>of</strong> rewardwith the fear lest his treachery might be anticipatedby the inferences <strong>of</strong> some other observerfrom the same tokens, in which case his fidelitywould be <strong>of</strong> no service to his master and dangerousto himself, overcame his sense <strong>of</strong> obligation tothe patron to whom he owed his freedom, andled him early the next morning to report hissuspicions to the emperor. Scevinus was seizedand brought to the palace. There he answeredsome <strong>of</strong> thebroken down had not Milichus recalledthe charges with boldness, denyingacts imputed to him, and explaining others withsuch plausibility that the charge would havethe conferencewith Natahs and suggested that thelatter should be arrested and examined as toits subject. This was done, and Natalis and
158 SENECAScevinus, being separately examined and givinginconsistent accounts <strong>of</strong> their conversation, wereflung into irons and, succumbing to the threat<strong>of</strong> torture, made both <strong>of</strong> them a full confession,each doubtless under the impression that theother had first confessed. Natalis was the firstto name Piso, and then with the view, accordingto Tacitus, <strong>of</strong> giving pleasure to Nero, he relatedthat he had visited <strong>Seneca</strong> on Piso's behalf tocomplain <strong>of</strong> the cessation <strong>of</strong> their intercourse.<strong>Seneca</strong>, he said, had excused himself on theground that frequent conversations and meetingswould conduce to the interests <strong>of</strong> neither,but had added that his own welfare depended onPiso's safety. Lucan and others were incriminatedby Scevinus. Lucan, after long denials,was led to confess by a promise <strong>of</strong> pardon, butadmirers <strong>of</strong> his poetry may hope that the reportthat, in order to conciliate the sympathy <strong>of</strong> amatricide emperor, he had the unspeakable basenessto accuse his mother, Atilia, <strong>of</strong> complicity wasan invention <strong>of</strong> his enemies.Nero now bethought himself <strong>of</strong> Epicharis,who had been detained in custody on the information<strong>of</strong> Proculus. Tigellinus caused this womanto be questioned under torture ;but the mostexquisite inventions <strong>of</strong> his exasperated crueltycould not wring from her a single name, andwhile on the second day, unable to walk, shewas being supported to the torture-chamber,she contrived by strangling herself to thwart thefurther efforts <strong>of</strong> her persecutors. Her constancywas in striking contrast to the weakness <strong>of</strong> herdistinguished confederates, whose courage had
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 159been broken by the very sight<strong>of</strong> torture.<strong>of</strong> instrumentsThe friends <strong>of</strong> Piso urged him at this junctureto repair to the camp and appealto soldiers andpopulace. As things were, they said, nothingworse could happen to him if he failed than ifhe submitted, while Nero with his degeneratefollowing were easily to be overcome. But theindolent and indifferent Piso was destitute <strong>of</strong>the imagination that might have brought suchan attempt to a successful issue. Without awaitingthe band <strong>of</strong> soldiers sent by the emperorto arrest him— a band chosen from among themost recent recruits, since the fidelity <strong>of</strong> the—veterans in such an employment was suspecthe opened his veins and died, havingup a will wherein in terms <strong>of</strong> fulsome adulationhe made a large legacy to the emperor, in thehope <strong>of</strong> thereby securing a peaceful successionto the rest <strong>of</strong> his estate for the beautiful wifewhom he had stolen from a friend. There followeda great proscription <strong>of</strong> conspirators realfirst drawnor alleged, conducted with great cruelty byTigellinus, actively assisted b}/ his colleague,Fenius Rufus, who hoped by the zeal with whichhe prosecuted his late accomplicesto clear himselffrom all suspicion <strong>of</strong> a share in their guilt.Whether or how far <strong>Seneca</strong> was cognisant <strong>of</strong>this conspiracy must remain uncertain, nor doesTacitus express an opinion on the subject. Thatthe friend <strong>of</strong> Piso, the uncle <strong>of</strong> Lucan, wouldhave rejoiced at its success we cannot doubt,just as Cicero rejoiced at the Ides <strong>of</strong> March.But, Uke Cicero, he was probably not consulted
i6oSENECAbeforehand, and even if the evidence drawn byfear <strong>of</strong> torture from Scevinus was accurate, itonly went to show that he was indirectly soundedon Piso's behalf and returned an ambiguousanswer. We are told, indeed, by the untrustworthyhistorian Dion Cassius that <strong>Seneca</strong> was deeplyconcerned in the conspiracy, and that he declaredthat it was necessary to rescue the State fromNero and Nero from himself, but this seems tobe merely an adapted quotation <strong>of</strong> a generalmaxim in the treatise De Vita Beata. Howeverthis may be, the discovery <strong>of</strong> the plot provedthe ruin <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>, for itgave Nero the longcovetedopportunity <strong>of</strong> effecting the destruction<strong>of</strong> a mentor whom he hated ever the more themore he departed from his precepts and meriteda disapproval which was not concealed.The remainder <strong>of</strong> the story may be transcribedwithout paraphrase from Tacitus, since,if we except the brief and malignant narrative<strong>of</strong> Dion— an historian who ever gives pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong>an envious dislike <strong>of</strong> great men and a desire tobelittle them— he is the only extant authorityfor the last scene <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s life.^Then came the death <strong>of</strong> Annaeus <strong>Seneca</strong>, whichgave great joy to Nero not that he had any clear:evidence <strong>of</strong> his guilt, but because he could now do bythe sword what he had failed to do by poison. Thesole witness against him was Natalis, and his evidenceonly came to this, that he had been sent to see <strong>Seneca</strong>when ill, and to complain <strong>of</strong> his refusing to see Piso 'It:'would be better,' he had said, for such old friends to1 I have ventured to borrow Mr. G. G. Ramsay's excellenttranslation.
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISOi6ikeep up their habits <strong>of</strong> intercourse.' To this <strong>Seneca</strong>'had replied:Frequent meetings and conversationswould do neither <strong>of</strong> them any good: but his own welfaredepended on Piso's safety.'Gavius Silvanus, Tribune <strong>of</strong> a Praetorian Cohort,was ordered to take the report <strong>of</strong> this incident to <strong>Seneca</strong>,and to ask him, ' Whether he admitted the correctness<strong>of</strong> the question <strong>of</strong> Natalis, and <strong>of</strong> his own answer to it ?Either by chance or purposely, it happened that <strong>Seneca</strong>was returning on that day from Campania, and hadhalted at a suburban villa four miles from Rome. Thither,towards evening, the tribune proceeded and having;surrounded the house with soldiers, he delivered theemperor's message to <strong>Seneca</strong> when he was at tablewith his wife Pompeia Paulina and two friends,'<strong>Seneca</strong>'s reply was : Natalis had been sent tocomplain on behalf <strong>of</strong> Piso that he was not permittedto visit him ;and he had tendered in excuse the state<strong>of</strong> his health and his love <strong>of</strong> quiet. As to his reasonfor regarding the welfare <strong>of</strong> a private individual as <strong>of</strong>more value than his own safety, he had had none. Hewas not a man addicted to flattery: and that no oneknew better than Nero himself, who had more <strong>of</strong>tenfound him too free than too servile in his utterances.'On receiving this report from the tribune in the presence<strong>of</strong> Poppaea and Tigellinus, who formed the emperor's'inner council <strong>of</strong> cruelty, Nero asked, Was <strong>Seneca</strong> preparingto put an end to himself '? The tribune declaredthat he had observed no sign <strong>of</strong> alarm or dejectionin <strong>Seneca</strong>'s face or language. He was therefore orderedto go back and tell him he must die. Fabius Rusticusstates that the tribune did not return by the sameroad by which he had come, but that he went out <strong>of</strong>his way to see Faenius, the prefect and; having shownhim Caesar's order, asked him, ' Should he obey it ? 'and that Faenius, with that fatal weakness which hadcome over them all, told him to execute his orders.For Silvanus himself was one <strong>of</strong> the conspirators, andhe was now adding one more crime to those which heM'
i62SENECAhad conspired to avenge. But he spared his own eyesand tongue, sending in one <strong>of</strong> the centurions to announceto <strong>Seneca</strong> that his last hour was come.<strong>Seneca</strong>, undismayed, asked for his will ;but this thecenturion refused. Then turning to his friends, hecalled them to witness that, Being forbidden to requitethem for their services, he was leaving to them the sole,and yet the noblest,—possession that remained to himthe pattern <strong>of</strong> his life. If they bore that in mind, theywould win for themselves a name for virtue as the reward<strong>of</strong> their devoted friendship.' At one moment he wouldcheck their tears with conversation ;at another hewould brace up their courage by high-strung language<strong>of</strong> rebuke, asking, ' Where was now their philosophy ?Where was that attitude towards the future whichthey had rehearsed for so many years? To whom wasNero's cruelty unknown ? What was left for one whohad murdered his mother and his brother but to slayhis guardian and teacher also ?'Having discoursed thus as if to the whole company,he embraced his wife, and abating somewhat <strong>of</strong> histone <strong>of</strong> high courage, he implored her to moderate hergrief, and not 'cling to it for ever : Let the contemplation<strong>of</strong> her husband's hfe <strong>of</strong> virtue afford her noble solacein her bereavement.'She, however, announced her resolve to die withhim ;and called on the operator to do his part. <strong>Seneca</strong>would not thwart her noble ambition ;and he lovedher too dearly to expose her to insult after he was gone.1 have pointed out to thee,' he said,'how thou mayest'soothe thy life ;but if thou prefer a noble death, I willnot begrudge thee the example. Let us both share thefortitude <strong>of</strong> thus :nobly dying but thine shall be thenobler end.'A single incision with the knife opened the arm <strong>of</strong>each, but as <strong>Seneca</strong>'s aged body, reduced by spareliving, would scarcely let the blood escape, he openedthe veins <strong>of</strong> his knees and ankles also. Worn out at'last by the pain, and fearing to break down his wife's
THE CONSPIRACY OF PISO 163courage by his suffering, or to lose his own self-commandat the sight <strong>of</strong> hers, he begged her to move into anotherchamber. But even in his last moments his eloquencedid not fail ;he called his secretaries to his side, anddictated to them manj^ things which being pubhshedin his own words I deem it needless to reproduce.Nero, however, had no personal disHke to Paulina ;and, not wishing to add to his character for cruelty,he ordered her death to be stayed. So, at the bidding<strong>of</strong> the soldiers, the slaves and freedmen tied up herarms and stopped the flow <strong>of</strong> blood ;perhaps she wasunconscious. But with that alacrity to accept theworst version <strong>of</strong> a thing which marks the vulgar, somebelieved that so long as she thought Nero would beimplacable she clutched at the glory <strong>of</strong> sharing herhusband's death ;but that when the hope <strong>of</strong> a reprievepresented itself the attractions <strong>of</strong> lifeproved too strongfor her. She lived on for a few years more, worthilycherishing her husband's memory ; but the pallor <strong>of</strong>her face and hmbs showed how much vitality had goneout <strong>of</strong> her.Meanwhile <strong>Seneca</strong>, in the agonies <strong>of</strong> a slow andlingering death, implored Statius Annaeus, his triedand trusted friend and physician, to produce a poisonwith which he had long provided himself, being thesame as that used for public executions at Athens. Thedraught was brought and administered, but to no purpose ;the limbs were too cold, the body too numb, to let thepoison act. At last, he was put into a warm bath ;and'as he sprinkled the slaves about him he added : This'libation is to Jupiter the Liberator ! He was thencarried into the hot vapour bath, and perished <strong>of</strong> suffocation.His body was burnt without any funeral ceremony,in accordance with instructions about his end whichhe had inserted in his will in the heyday <strong>of</strong> his wealthand power.
CHAPTER XIIITHE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECAThe practical and unsystematic character <strong>of</strong>to describe<strong>Seneca</strong>'s philosophy makes it less easythan to understand. Its chief aim was the formation<strong>of</strong> character, and his pupils were taught topossess their souls in peace by the acceptance,so far as they were applicable to actual life, <strong>of</strong><strong>Stoic</strong> principles. Philosophy, he says, is not apopular pr<strong>of</strong>essiondevised for ostentation or thedisplay <strong>of</strong> ingenuity ; it lies not in words, but inrealities. Nor do we pursueit in order to spendour days agreeably or to banish weariness from^'our leisure ;it cultivates and forms the mind,orders life, guides our actions by showing uswhat to do and what not to do, sits at the helmand directs our course through the changes andchances <strong>of</strong> the world. What is the one true,possession <strong>of</strong> man ? Himself, answers <strong>Seneca</strong>.What isLiberty ? — to be the slave <strong>of</strong> no want,<strong>of</strong> no chance, to meet Fortune on equal terms ;but ifa man desire or fear external things he isso far the slave <strong>of</strong> him who has them to give orto withhold.Among the external things to be regarded ob-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 165jectively as neither good nor evil in themselves,save through the opinion we form <strong>of</strong> them, mustbe reckoned in <strong>Seneca</strong>'s philosophy our own ""bodies, in which as in boats we travel so strangely. \from port to port. In these bodies is sown the \>^\2divine seed which develops or decays, according-^to the soil in which it isplanted and the cultivationit receives. If the seed prospers and a reasonablesoul isengendered this is the real man-spiritstill cleaving, like a sun-ray, to its divine origin,and his body but the case in which the jewel lies,indispensable certainly to his appearance in thephysical world, as the instrument is indispensableto the heard melody, but no more the source fromwhich he springs than the violin on which it isplayed is that <strong>of</strong> a sonata <strong>of</strong> Beethoven, or theground on which the sun's rays shine is that <strong>of</strong> light. ^This complete separation in thought <strong>of</strong> our spiritual ';:selves from the few pounds <strong>of</strong> matter in which
,poweri66SENECAmay— have power over our bodies indeed everyman has that if he chooses — to exert it withoutregard to consequences they '— can have none over'ourselves. Vindica te tibi claim to be lord <strong>of</strong>yourself, make good yourclaim to be free foryour own sake, subject not 3^our will to another's,wrote <strong>Seneca</strong> in the first <strong>of</strong> his letters to Lucilius,and the remaining series are largely a commentaryon that text,fPhilosophy, as <strong>Seneca</strong> understood it, is the)study/man;<strong>of</strong> the works <strong>of</strong> God and <strong>of</strong> the nature <strong>of</strong><strong>of</strong> natural science and <strong>of</strong> the moral law.^He would have understood and assented to thesaying <strong>of</strong> the modern sage who declared thatthe two great subjects <strong>of</strong> his admiration andreverence were the starry heaven outside himand the moral law within. Man's nature he heldto be tw<strong>of</strong>old— an inherited instinctive or physicalnature which he shares with the animals, and arational nature which is divine. The last is theproper or distinguishing character <strong>of</strong> man, andonly so far as it gains the mastery can he trulybe said as man to live. The end <strong>of</strong> philosophyis to secure this predominance, and so far as itsucceeds in so doing man is placed beyond the<strong>of</strong> Fortune and his felicity is assured.His good and evil reside in the choice which it—isalways in his power to make. External thingshis own body included— are in themselves neithergood nor evil, but they are the material out <strong>of</strong>'which man makes the one or the other. Theyreach not unto the soul,' as Marcus Aureiius'says, but stand without still and quiet, and
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 167it is from the opinion only which is within thatall the tumult and all the trouble doth proceed.'It isexcellent, wrote <strong>Seneca</strong>, to combine the freedomfrom concern <strong>of</strong> a God with the physicalfrailty <strong>of</strong> man.^ All nature is one. We are allmembers <strong>of</strong> a single great body.^ In the physicalworld this is clear to the view, for the actualmaterial <strong>of</strong> which it iscomposed is used successivelyfor all things— for minerals, for plants, and foranimals. But it is also true <strong>of</strong> the spiritual worldto which man alone <strong>of</strong> living things has beengranted admission. Hence it follows that we arecalled by our spiritual nature to recognise ouruniversal kinship and to love one another, hencecome our notions <strong>of</strong> equity and justice, and abelief which consciously or unconsciously we musthold that it is better for a man to be wrongedthan to wrong.Thus <strong>Seneca</strong> was a dualist. For him, as hasbeen said, there is the world <strong>of</strong> matter <strong>of</strong> whichour bodies__are_a part, and there is the world <strong>of</strong>spirit "wEich isjdLvine. Bodies are the instruments<strong>of</strong> our free action when we possess ourselves, butwhen we obey their behests we lose our freedomand become the slaves <strong>of</strong> those who can threatenus with or save — us from the perils to which thebody is exposed poverty, sickness, or externalviolence. Of these we dread the last most because<strong>of</strong> its tumultuous onset, whereas the others creepsilently upon us accompanied by nothing formid-^Ep- 53- 'Ecce res magna, habere imbecillitatem hominis,securitatem Dei.''^Ep. 95 Omne hoc quod vides, quo divina et humana:conclusa sunt, unum est : membra sumus corporis magni.'
i68SENECAable to our eyes or ears. Yet there is no differencein respect <strong>of</strong> the — sole physical realities pain anddeath. It was a <strong>Stoic</strong> maxim that the good <strong>of</strong>man lies in a certain regulation <strong>of</strong> his choice withregard to the appearances <strong>of</strong> things ; and it isonly in the spiritual world that this faculty <strong>of</strong>choice can be said to exist. So far as the bodycontrols the human will in its own interests—answering with corresponding reactions the stroke<strong>of</strong> its —perceptions and sensations that will isdetermined and becomes the servant <strong>of</strong> what itshould command. To obey the orders <strong>of</strong> thebodyis to serve another's will and to surrenderthat true liberty which to the <strong>Stoic</strong> was life itself.Again and again<strong>Seneca</strong> recurs to this thesis :My dearest Lucilius [he writes], do, 1 beseech you,the one thing that can make you happy. Scatter andtread under foot all those extrinsic splendours whichhang on the promises <strong>of</strong> others ;look to the true good,and rejoice in what isyour own. And what is that ?Yourself, and the best part <strong>of</strong> yourself.l This littlebody, even though nothing can be done without it,is rather a necessary than a great matter.^My body [he says in another letter] I regard butas a chain by which my liberty is fettered. I <strong>of</strong>ferit therefore to Fortune as an object for her attacks ;nor through this shield do I allow myself to be pierced.In this is all my vulnerable part this frail and;exposedhouse does my soul inhabit inviolate. This flesh shallnever constrain me to fear or unworthy simulation.Let me never lie for the sake <strong>of</strong> this poor carcase.^^2Ep. 23.'Ep. 65 Nunquam me caro ista compellet ad metum : ;nunquam ad indignam bono sinaulationem ; nunquam in honoremhujus corpusculi mentiar.'
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 169In <strong>Seneca</strong>'s view a man cannot be said to livea man's life who does not serve his own will.He becomes an automaton acted on by the materialworld outside him, on which he himself in histurn reacts. True he cannot live for himselfunless he live for others,^ for we are all children<strong>of</strong> the same Father, all members <strong>of</strong> one greatbody but it is <strong>of</strong> his own free will that he must;live for others, and not through submission <strong>of</strong>his will to theirs. All action is really voluntary.No man need be a slave who — is ready to take theconsequences to his body pain or death at themost— <strong>of</strong> a refusal to serve. The doctrine <strong>of</strong> thedivine immanence was held by <strong>Seneca</strong> as firmlyas was possible to an understanding so scepticaland an imagination so mobile, and it lies at theroot <strong>of</strong> his theory<strong>of</strong> life.There is no need to raise our hands to heaven [hetells I^uciUus] or to prevail upon the keeper <strong>of</strong> the templeto admit us to the presence <strong>of</strong> the image, as ifby suchmeans our prayers were more likely to be heard. Godis near you, He is with you, He is within you. I tellyou, LuciUus, the Holy Spirit abides within us,^ watchingover and guarding our good or evil destiny as we treat:Him, so He treats us. No good man is without God.Can any unassisted by Him rise above Fortune ? L<strong>of</strong>tyand sublime are His counsels. In every good man Goddwells, though what God is uncertain. ... If you see aman unmoved by danger, unaffected by desires,happyin adversity, calm in the midst <strong>of</strong> tempests, looking atmen from a higher station, at the gods from a level,1 ' Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse'{Ep. 6). Alteri vivas oportet, si tibi vis vivere ' {Ep. 48).*'Sacer intra nos spiritus sedet, malorum bonorumquenostrorum observator et custos.'
170 SENECAwill you feel no veneration for him ? Will you notg,say, Here issomething so great and so sublime that itis incredible he should resemble the Httle body in whichhe dwells ? . . .Just as the rays <strong>of</strong> the sun reach indeedthe earth yet are still in the place whence they are transmitted: so a great and sacred soul sent down to theearth, that we might have closer knowledge <strong>of</strong> divinethings, holds intercourse indeed with us but cleaves toits own origin.^At the same time <strong>Seneca</strong> was no believer inextreme asceticism— a practice which he regardedas a confusion <strong>of</strong> means with end. The bodyisnot to be indulged, lest like an overfed horse itshould get out <strong>of</strong> hand ;but since it is our instrument<strong>of</strong> action, our only means <strong>of</strong> communicationwith the outside world, since through it we enterinto relations with the external things that formthe materials on which, and the medium throughwhich, our choice can be exercised, we are to regardit as a useful servant, and to clothe, clean, protect,and maintain it in a manner suitable to its natureand with a view to its highest efficiency. It is atool which we are to keep in good condition,a house to be kept in repair ;but we must everbe careful not to confound the tool with the workman,the house with its inhabitant.<strong>Seneca</strong> held, as we have seen, that man'scharacteristic excellence and peculiar attributeis his reason, which is nothing but a part <strong>of</strong> thedivine nature sunk in a human body.^ Thereforeto follow reason is to act according to his nature ;just as for other animals to follow the lead <strong>of</strong>their bodies is to act after their kind. It is^Ep. 41.*Ep. 64.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 171opposed to his physical, inherited, or irrationalself in respect <strong>of</strong> which he belongs to the world<strong>of</strong> matter. Though this latter partgreater dynamic power, and has ever been thesource <strong>of</strong> the greater number <strong>of</strong> human actions,yet inasmuch as body and the necessary actionsthat proceed from bodily passions—affections orwhether hunger, fear, or lust— are not peculiarto human beings but are common to them and<strong>of</strong> him has theall other animals, we do not speak <strong>of</strong> them asnatural to man. Such words as ' humanity ' and'kindness,' recurring as they do in many languages,pointto this distinction. It was ever in themind <strong>of</strong> the Roman <strong>Stoic</strong>s, and isthe foundationupon which many <strong>of</strong> their seeming paradoxes rest.In one <strong>of</strong> the very few allusions to <strong>Seneca</strong> to befound in the writings <strong>of</strong> his actual contemporaiies,we are told by the elder Pliny that no man wasless beguiled by the appearances '— —<strong>of</strong> things'minime mirator inanium and this indeed isjust what we might infer from his works. In spite<strong>of</strong> the rhetoric by which they are sometimesadorned, and sometimes disfigured, we hear andrecognise a familiar human voice in reading hisletters. The sense <strong>of</strong> remoteness which we feeltowards writers <strong>of</strong> past generations is proportionedto the greater or less degree in which their naturewas subdued to the transient humours <strong>of</strong> thetime in which they worked. Shakespeare could—perceive and describe these humours the stringsby which human puppets are moved — as clearlyas Ben Jonson, but because he could also perceiveand describe the universal humanity that lies
172 SENECAat the back <strong>of</strong> them, because he recognises thesomething in every man that either controls orchecks or yields to them, his characters seem to usmodern and natural, and Jonson's, because hecannot do this, mechanical and obsolete. <strong>Seneca</strong>,with his constant desire to see with his own eyesthings as they are and not as they are reputed to be— to remove the mask from things as well as frompersons— has the same power.^ We never have toplead the opinions <strong>of</strong> his time as an apology forany opinion he holds. We may agree with himor disagree, but it is a Hving voice we hear— nevera mere echo. For Reason being universal andabsolute, independent <strong>of</strong> time and place, and <strong>of</strong> thehumours <strong>of</strong> mankind, the voice <strong>of</strong> Reason, no matterfrom what distance <strong>of</strong> space or time, reaches usas a living voice. We feel our kindred with thespeaker however great an interval may separateus from his physical presence. We recogniseand greet in him our common nature, for this isthe true nature <strong>of</strong> man, the X0709— the'spirit<strong>of</strong> the New Testament as 'opposed to the flesh,'the seed, the new birth, the divine spark, the realhumanity.<strong>Seneca</strong> defines wisdom —as constancy <strong>of</strong> will'semper idem velle atque idem nolle.' There is nodanger, he adds, lest this constancy should have awrong object, since it is impossible that anythingbut what is right should at all times please us.There must be but one same efficient motive to'^'Ep. 24 Illud ante omnia memento, demere rebus:tumultum, ac videre quid in quaque re sit : scies nihil esse inistis terribile nisiipsum timorem.— Non hominibus tantum, sadet rebus persona demenda est, et rgddenda fades sua.'
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 173all our actions, and we shall never regret themwhatever their results. Actions, like things, arein themselves neither good— nor bad it is themanner and the circumstances that qualify them.The veiy same action is base or honourable,according to the mental disposition <strong>of</strong> the actor.A man attends assiduously the sick bed <strong>of</strong> hisfriend, and we approve. But if he does this witha view to an inheritance, we regard him as avulture awaiting his prey. The action is thesame in both cases, but in the first we recognisewhat we significantly call the man's humanity,that is, goodness, truth, and beauty, those fruits<strong>of</strong> the universal human spirit, <strong>of</strong> which man couldnot have formed the idea were they not the verymaterial <strong>of</strong> his reasonable soul ;and our consciousness<strong>of</strong> the self-regarding source <strong>of</strong> the same actionin the other case fills us with a certain disgust.As with things so with actions, we must weighthem without regard to their reputation, and considernot what they are called but what they are.Notwithstanding his rhetoric and antitheses,it is this recall to reality which is the dominantnote in <strong>Seneca</strong>'s writings. An excellent critic,who was by no means an undiscriminating admirer<strong>of</strong> his subject, has written: 'The less aman cares for the practical, the real, the lesshe will value <strong>Seneca</strong>. The more a man envelopshimself in words and ideas without exact meaning,the less will he comprehenda writer whodoes not merely deal in words, but has ideaswith something to correspond1G. Long.to them.'^ <strong>Seneca</strong>
174 SENECAhad the contempt <strong>of</strong> a man <strong>of</strong> the world forpedantry, though the impatience with purespeculation that he felt as an ethical instructorwas tempered in some degree by his own insatiablecuriosity. We sometimes find,' he'wrotein one <strong>of</strong> his letters,'that the pursuit <strong>of</strong> liberalarts makes men tedious, wordy, unreasonable,self-satisfied, and ignorant <strong>of</strong> what they shouldknow, just because they have learnt what isneedless.' ^Philosophy, in his view, is the science'<strong>of</strong> reality, the knowledge <strong>of</strong> which the godshave given to none,' he tells us, ' but the power<strong>of</strong> attainment to all. Had they indeed made thisa common possession, had we been born wise,wisdom would have lost her chief excellence andhave been subject to Fortune, whereas it is hermost precious and noble quality that she falls <strong>of</strong>herself to no man's lot, that each man owes herto himself, and seeks her from no other.' ^Thisacquisition <strong>of</strong> ' self-control in accordance with'fixed principles that are self-prescribed formswhat is called character, which, as Kant remarks,implies a subject conscious <strong>of</strong> something which hehas himself acquired. The man who possessesit is free, for he is the slave <strong>of</strong> nothing — <strong>of</strong> nowant, <strong>of</strong> no chance; he meets Fortune on equalterms and can do what he pleases, for nothingpleases him that he ought not to do. Thephilosopher sees things as they are presented tohim by nature, not as they are represented to himby his<strong>of</strong> others.imagination worked on by the suggestion'Above all things, remember,' writes1Ep. 88. 2Ep. 90.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 175<strong>Seneca</strong>, ' to strip things <strong>of</strong> their glamour and tocontemplate each as it is in itself: youwill findthat they contain nothing formidable but yourown fear. ' ^ 'Non effedus sed efficientia timorspectat,'he says elsewhere; it is the pomp andcircumstance <strong>of</strong> pain and death (the only positivephysical evils), not pain and death themselves,which we fear, that is, from which we suffer inanticipation. We think death the greatest <strong>of</strong>evils, when the only evil connected with it isone which vanishes on its appearance, namely,the terror it inspires. We are indignant andcomplain, and do not perceive that the onlyreality <strong>of</strong> ill is to be found in our indignationand complaints.To have a right judgment in all things it issufficient to have our own judgment (or perception<strong>of</strong> the differences between things) unbiased bythat <strong>of</strong> others ;then we acquire the inestimableboon <strong>of</strong> becoming lords <strong>of</strong> ourselves. When aman serves his own will and not other persons orthings he will do right, because he then acts onand general thoughts are just.general principles ;No man is a rogue for the pleasure <strong>of</strong> being arogue, but to gain some end which seems to him ,a good one, but which to the philosopher would'not seem worth a struggle were it even attainableinnocently. The slave <strong>of</strong> his passions may fancythat in serving them he is serving his own will ;but it is not so, for he has lost his self-controland must obey those who are able to gratify ornot to gratify those passions. He is, as Hamlet*Ep. 24.
176 SENECA'says, a pipe for Fortune's finger to sound whatstop she please.' One gift, says <strong>Seneca</strong>, we havefrom Nature, and that is, that the hght <strong>of</strong> virtueis visible to all ;even those who do not followperceive it but if we are not distracted ;by theto us fromfalse opinions <strong>of</strong> things suggestedoutside or by our own bodily selves,and to follow the light will be all one.^to perceive<strong>Stoic</strong>ism in the centuries before Christ waslike a motor started but <strong>of</strong>f the clutch. There isa great deal <strong>of</strong> potential energy, but being merelypotential it results in nothing but noise. <strong>Seneca</strong>supplied the clutch to <strong>Stoic</strong>ism by applying it tothe practical conduct <strong>of</strong> life, and he was followedin this work by Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius.Thus a statesman, a slave, and an emperor, differingas widely in temperament as they did in position,the same conclusions as toreached, nevertheless,the nature <strong>of</strong> man and the secret <strong>of</strong> his felicity.What the Greeks — preach, the Romans practise,says Quintilian a greater matter.^ As was naturalto one who had lived in the centre <strong>of</strong> things andseen much <strong>of</strong> men and affairs, <strong>Seneca</strong> felt littlebut disdain for the logical and metaphysical puzzleswhich occupied so much <strong>of</strong> the time and thought<strong>of</strong> the earlier Greek philosophers and schoolmen,and which seem to have had a great attractionfor his Epicurean friend, Lucilius. He reproachesphilosophers with teaching how to dispute ratherthan how to live, and their pupils with attending^De Beneficiis, 717.2'Quantum enim Graeci praeceptis valent, tantum Romani(quod est majus) exemplis ' (Quintilian, xii. 2).
THE. PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 177lectures in order to sharpen their wits rather thanimprove their characters. The most mischievous<strong>of</strong> mortals he declares to be those who bring theirphilosophy to market and by not practising whatthey preach seem a living pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> the futility<strong>of</strong> their doctrines. He argues with force againstthose who maintained the sufficiency <strong>of</strong> generalprinciples and the needlessness <strong>of</strong> precepts fortheir application to the conduct <strong>of</strong> life. Virtue,he says, consists partly in theory and partly inpractice you ought both to learn and to make;good what you have learnt by your actions. Ifthis is so, the precepts <strong>of</strong> wisdom are <strong>of</strong> service aswell as her decrees ;they issue, as it were, edictsby which our affections are bound and constrained.The earlier philosophers were so occupied withthe form <strong>of</strong> the human understanding that theyneglectedits material content. The driving powerwas supplied but continued unlinked to theengine to be driven. <strong>Seneca</strong>, too, considered theexternal world but as the material <strong>of</strong> wise men—the ball, not prized for its own sake, on whichthe playeris to exercise his skill— but to showthe bearing <strong>of</strong> this discovery on the actualcircumstances <strong>of</strong> life and action seemed to himthe main business <strong>of</strong> philosophy.Not out <strong>of</strong> ivory only [he tells us] was Phidias skilledmaking statues, he made them <strong>of</strong> bronze ;ifyoubrought marble or any cheaper material to him hewould turn it to the best use <strong>of</strong> which it was capable.So, if riches fall to him, the wise man wiU display hiswisdom amidst riches, if not, then in poverty ; if hecan, in his native country,if not, then in exile; if heN
178 SENECAcan, as a general, if not, then as a soldier ;if he can,in health, if not, then in sickness. Whatever fortunebefall him, he will carve out <strong>of</strong> itsomething memorable.^The lives <strong>of</strong> most men are passed in a perpetualstruggle to improve the external circumstances— <strong>of</strong> their lives ;either their reputations that is, theopinions held <strong>of</strong> them by other people — or theirfortunes— that is, their power <strong>of</strong> directing thelabour <strong>of</strong> other people to the satisfaction <strong>of</strong> theirown desires and caprices. Thus for the sake <strong>of</strong>an imaginedlifethey lose their real life. Couldwe recognise that the attainment <strong>of</strong> these objectsis not in our own power, and that even ifby theaid <strong>of</strong> Fortune they are attained they bring noreal happiness with them, but only through theirtransitory nature disillusionment, we should acceptthe chances and circumstances <strong>of</strong> our lives withoutperturbation or care, use them as it befits us touse them with the same tendency whatever theyare, and be at peace.<strong>Seneca</strong> was a man <strong>of</strong> quick sympathies, impressionable,witty, and amiable, humane, fastidious,and full <strong>of</strong> good sense, interested perhapsin man rather than in men, yet devoted to hisfriends, and combining a desire to please andsuccess in pleasing, with a love <strong>of</strong> nature andsolitary meditation. He was a citizen <strong>of</strong> theworld,^ who could take a detached view <strong>of</strong> men andthings, and his generous conviction that distinctions<strong>of</strong> rank and status had their origin in opinion,itself the child <strong>of</strong> fortune, and in the names in'Ep. 85.*Non sum uni ' angulo natus ;patria mea totus hie est mundus.'
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 179which that opinion was registered rather than inany real superiority or inferiority, <strong>of</strong>ten led himto anticipate the ideas <strong>of</strong> a very distant future.Quintilian describes him as no great philosopher('in philosophia parum diligens but'), praises himas a moral instructor <strong>of</strong> distinction whose worksare to be studied— by those able to sift the goodfrom the bad— for the sake <strong>of</strong> the striking thoughtswith which they abound. He allows him a readywit, flowing perhaps too easily from a perennialsource, industry, and a wide knowledge <strong>of</strong> naturalhistory, though he remarks that he was sometimesmisled by those whom he had commissionedto make investigations but with all this he;chargeshim with an absolute lack <strong>of</strong> judgment and withbeing the chief corrupter <strong>of</strong> eloquence and introducer<strong>of</strong> new methods in composition which utterlyunfitted him to guide the taste <strong>of</strong> the youth<strong>of</strong> his generation, in whose hands for a timehis books alone were to be found. He denounceshim, indeed, as a sort <strong>of</strong> literary anarchist, whoseinfluence on the manner <strong>of</strong> his age was disastrous,and having once again admitted that there wasmuch in his works to approve, much even to admire,by those who could distinguish (andwhose taste was sufficiently formed this,would be good practice), he sums up hiswith the remark that itfor thosehe says,criticismwas a pity one capable<strong>of</strong> doing what he pleased should not more <strong>of</strong>ten^have been pleased with better things. Quintilian,' ^Digna enim fuit ilia natura, quae meliora vellet, quae quodvoluit effecit.' One is reminded <strong>of</strong> Jonson's reply to Shakespeare'sfellow-players, who boasted that he had never blotted a line,'"Would he had blotted a thousand.'
i8oSENECAon conventional lines, was one <strong>of</strong> the best criticsthat have ever passed judgment on the works<strong>of</strong> others— the Sainte-Beuve <strong>of</strong> his age. But<strong>Seneca</strong> was in literature a revolutionary, with adislike <strong>of</strong> convention, scant respect for tradition,and impatience <strong>of</strong> authority ^ and; Quintilian,the classicist, was <strong>of</strong> opinion that he owed his— popularity not to his good qualities the ' multaeetmagnae virtutes ' which he freely recognised—but to his dangerously attractive faults — hisrhetoric and his detached sentences, good, bad,and indifferent, not woven according to the rules<strong>of</strong> art into the texture <strong>of</strong> a complete work, butscattered in careless pr<strong>of</strong>usion as they occurredto him and lying where theyfell. For Romanconservatives such as Quintilian, Roman citizenshipwas a primary consideration, and for a Romancitizen moral obligations were in large measureconfined to their relations with their fellowcitizens.For <strong>Seneca</strong>, on the other hand, and hisschool, man was sacred to man as man ^— the idea <strong>of</strong>citizenship with its rights and duties was swallowedup and lost in that <strong>of</strong> humanity, all men werebrothers and sprang from the same origin.^ Themost useful life a man could lead was spent inhelping, teaching, and consoling his fellow-men— be they Romans or barbarians, free or slave.The maxims in which <strong>Seneca</strong> enshrined thesenotions seemed to Quintilian rhetorical commonplacecalculated to please children and <strong>of</strong> a sub-1Ep. 33 'Non sumus sub rege, sibi quisque se vindicet.':*Ep. 95 'Homo res sacra ho mini.':»Deus est mortaliCp. his contemporary, Pliny, ii. '7 :juvare mortalem ' ;and St- Paul passim.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECAi8iversive tendency. Such ideas, he may havethought, might be suited to the schools <strong>of</strong> declamation;but introduced into serious treatises andfound in conjunction with much that was really justand wise, they could not be too strongly condemned.Was <strong>Seneca</strong> the author <strong>of</strong> the tragedies whichbear his name ? That they were written by himor by one <strong>of</strong> his family we know from the quotationby Quintilian <strong>of</strong> an extant line <strong>of</strong> the Medea,^while other mentions are made <strong>of</strong> the tragedies <strong>of</strong>'<strong>Seneca</strong> 'by the grammarians <strong>of</strong> the second century— Terentianus Maurus, and Valerius Probus. Itis evident, however, that one <strong>of</strong> the plays, theOdavia, cannot have been written by Lucius<strong>Seneca</strong>, who appears in it as a principal character,since it contains in the guise <strong>of</strong> a prophecy afairly accurate description <strong>of</strong> the death <strong>of</strong> Nero.''Conceding this, most modern writers have neverthelessattributed the remaining eight tragediesto the philosopher. Yet apart from the fact thatthere seems no sufficient reason for separatingthe Octavia from the rest <strong>of</strong> the collection, thecase against his authorship seems to me so strongas to be almost conclusive. Quintilian, in hisaccount <strong>of</strong> Roman writers <strong>of</strong> tragedy from Acciusand Pacuvius down to Pomponius Secundus, whommakes no mention <strong>of</strong>he had known personally,<strong>Seneca</strong>.This, if at the time he was writing <strong>Seneca</strong>' 1— " quas peti terras " 'jubes ?* 'Interrogamus, aut invidiae gratia ut Medea apud <strong>Seneca</strong>m:(Quint, ix. 2. 8).Veniet dies tempusque, quo reddat suisAnimam nocentem sceleribus, jugulum hostibus,Desertus, et destructus, et cunctis egens.'Oct. 629-631.
i82SENECAthe tragedian were actually alive, is comprehensible,for Quintilian avoids all criticism <strong>of</strong> his livingcontemporaries, and only alludes without naminghim to Tacitus himself. But if Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong>were the author <strong>of</strong> the plays, how could he havepassed him over in silence ? Moreover, he tells usthat Lucius <strong>Seneca</strong> practised almost every form<strong>of</strong> literature, leaving behind him orations, poems,epistles, and dialogues. Why no mention <strong>of</strong> thetragedies ? But the strongest external reasonfor disbelieving in the identity <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> thetragedian with <strong>Seneca</strong> the philosopheris to befound in the poem <strong>of</strong> Sidonius ApoUinaris, writtenin the fifth century, in which he distinguishesbetween the two.^ It is difficult to believe thatSidonius, to whom letters were the chief interestin life, and who lived in an age before the finalbreak up <strong>of</strong> the Empire had cast a doubt on somany origins, could have been mistaken on sucha point. He writes, too, as he naturally would ifno question on the subject had been raised, as ifthe matter were one <strong>of</strong> common knowledge.As to the internal evidence, the defects <strong>of</strong><strong>Seneca</strong> are visible in the plays, tempered by few1'Non quod Corduba praepotens alumnisFacundum ciet, hie putes legendum :Quorum unus colit hispidum Platona,Incassumque suum monet Neronem :Orchestram quatit alter Euripidis,Pietum faeeibus AeSv^hylum secutusAut plaustris solitum sonare Thespin :Qui post pulpita trita sub cothurnoDucebant olidae matrem capellae.'Carm.ix.Cp.Carm. xxiii, :'Quid celsos Seneeas loquar.'
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 183<strong>of</strong> his better qualities. Quintilian says <strong>of</strong> thelater writers <strong>of</strong> that school, that all they can dois to imitate and exaggerate the faults and mannerisms<strong>of</strong> their master, since his real excellence isbeyond their capacity. By resembling they, so tospeak, slander him.^ I do not dwell upon theabsence <strong>of</strong> all allusion to the tragedies in hisletters, though he quotes Euripides and Publius,for <strong>Seneca</strong> was completely free from that literaryvanity which was so conspicuous in Cicero, andin no one <strong>of</strong> his letters does he mention any other<strong>of</strong> his works. Indeed, with the exception <strong>of</strong> asingle passage in his twenty-first letter, in whichwith a certain solemnity he promises Lucilius thatas Idomeneus lives for ever in the letters <strong>of</strong>Epicurus, Atticus in those <strong>of</strong> Cicero, so it wasalso in his power to confer immortality on hisown correspondent, we hear nothing <strong>of</strong> his greatposition and reputation from himself.The denunciations <strong>of</strong> tyrants and tyranny withwhich the plays abound, and the direct references,as they appear to be, to <strong>Seneca</strong>'s own relationswith Nero which they contain, have appeared toM. Boissier conclusive evidence <strong>of</strong> his authorship.But they also make it in a high degree unlikely thatthe plays were published during Nero's lifetime,and would rather indicate their publication underVespasian by another member <strong>of</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong>'s family.'He who distributes crowns at his will,' we read'in the Thyestes, before whom trembling nationsbend the knee, who by a sign <strong>of</strong> his hand disarms^One wonders whether he maytragedian among others in his mind when so writing.not have had <strong>Seneca</strong> the
i84SENECAMedes, Indians, and tribes dreaded <strong>of</strong> the Parthians,is himself uneasy on his throne ;he shudders atthe thought <strong>of</strong> the caprices <strong>of</strong> fortune and <strong>of</strong> the unforeseenstrokes by which ^empires are overthrown.'Again, in the same 'play, Believe me, we aredeceived by the glozing surface <strong>of</strong> prosperity, andwe are wrong indeed to regret its loss. WhileI was powerful, I never ceased to tremble ;butnow I can cause fear or jealousy to none, I amhappy. Crime does not seek out the poor manin his hut. He dines at a modest table, whereaswe run the risk <strong>of</strong> poison when we drink fromgolden goblets. I speak from experience.' ^ It isevident that the writer <strong>of</strong> these passages had Neroand <strong>Seneca</strong> in his mind; <strong>Seneca</strong> had indeed experiencedthe danger he describes,^ but that hewould have published or even committed to writingsuch sentiments in the tyrant's lifetime ishard to believe. Who, then, can be the author <strong>of</strong>the plays? <strong>Seneca</strong>'s brothers did not long survivehim. His nephew Lucan was condemned ;and asthe blood spurted from his opened veins with hisdying voice he declaimed a passage from the Pharsaliadescriptive <strong>of</strong> his situation. His father, Mela,claimed his estate; but the claim was contestedby Lucan's intimate friend, Fabius Romanus, whopr<strong>of</strong>essed to find among the papers left him lettersinvolving Mela in the conspiracy. This wasenough for Nero, who coveted Mela's great wealth,and a message was sent him, with the usualresult. He at once anticipated a condemnationby opening his veins, leaving*Thyestes, 600. *Ibid., 446.behind him a will^Tac, Ann. xv. 45.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SENECA 185in which he bequeathed a great sum <strong>of</strong>money toTigeUinus^ in the hope that by interesting the prefectin the vahdity <strong>of</strong> the document his remaininglegacies might be secured to his family. Thathe was successful in this is probable, because ageneration later we find Lucan's widow, PoUa,living wealthy and honoured under Domitian, andreceiving the seldom disinterested attentions <strong>of</strong>the Flavian poets. Gallio, after <strong>Seneca</strong>'s death,was violently attacked in the Senate ;but savedfor the moment by friends, who reproached hisantagonist with taking advantage <strong>of</strong> the publicmisfortunes for the gratification <strong>of</strong> private hatredand opposing the humane impulses <strong>of</strong> their mercifulprince. We hear no more <strong>of</strong> him from Tacitus ;but Dion relates that he perished shortly afterwardsby his own hand. The only other <strong>Seneca</strong><strong>of</strong> whom any mention has survived is Marcus,the son <strong>of</strong> the philosopher, <strong>of</strong> whom he wrote sotenderly from his Corsican exile. Can he havebeen the dramatist ?Nothing obliges us tobelieve it ;but it is possible, and has beenbelieved.<strong>Seneca</strong>'s reputation has passed through manyvicissitudes. He has been long neglected, andhis character when discussed has been harshlyappreciated. Yet good wine cannot come froma tainted vessel ;and if we judge his work by theuse that has been made <strong>of</strong> itby famous poetsand moralists, we must call it a noble heritage.Shakespeare and Milton have transmuted — many<strong>of</strong> his thoughts into glorious poetry Miltontaking directly from him, Shakespearein all
i86SENECAprobability by way <strong>of</strong> Florio's Montaigne.the firstFromhe has excited admiration and hostihtyin almost equal measure. He isperhaps theonly pagan whom —the early Christian writersTertullian, Augustine, Lactantius, and Jerome—regarded with all but unmixed approval. Onthe other hand, the pedantic Roman archaists <strong>of</strong>the Antonine period— Aulus Gellius and Fronto —detested him as the corrupter <strong>of</strong> taste and adangerous innovator. It must always be rememberedthat his was no abstract philosophy <strong>of</strong> thestudy. It was addressed bya former man <strong>of</strong>action to men living under a reign <strong>of</strong> terror,whose lives were in daily peril and its ;object wasto free them from anxiety and brace their mindsto meet their fate with indifference and dignity.Consequently it is in dangerous times that hehas found the greatest favour.
CAIUS MAECENAS
CAIUS MAECENASThe battle <strong>of</strong> Actium had been fought and won.For the third time in Roman history the gates <strong>of</strong>the Temple <strong>of</strong> Janus were closed as a sign thatwar had ceased. After a century <strong>of</strong> civil war andconfusion the Romans accepted, some <strong>of</strong> themwith joy, others with a half-ashamed relief, othersagain with melancholy resignation, the reposeand security <strong>of</strong>fered to them by the new government.The historian Livy, whom the emperorwas accustomed playfully to tax with his Pompeiansympathies, turned, as he tells us, to thecomposition <strong>of</strong> Roman history and the contemplation<strong>of</strong> the ancient glories <strong>of</strong> the State in orderto distract his mind from what seemed to himthe incurable degeneracy <strong>of</strong> the times. Horace,who had served as an <strong>of</strong>ficer under Brutus atPhilippi, took refuge in Epicurean philosophyand the cultivation <strong>of</strong> friendship, while he advisedhis friends to rid themselves <strong>of</strong> hopes and fears,to make the best <strong>of</strong> the passing hour, and not totrouble about the future. We must all die : sowhat, after all, does anything matter ? is theconstant burden <strong>of</strong> his song. ReconciUation and
190 CAIUS MAECENASoblivion were the order <strong>of</strong> the day. To the son<strong>of</strong> that Cicero, the thunder <strong>of</strong> whose eloquencein defence <strong>of</strong> the old constitution had cost himhis life, fell the duty as consul <strong>of</strong> announcing tothe people the news <strong>of</strong> the battle <strong>of</strong> Actium and<strong>of</strong> presiding over the games and pageants givenin honour <strong>of</strong> the victory. The untamable soul<strong>of</strong> Cato was applauded with impunity by theCourt poets. Men, like Messala, who had distinguishedthemselves on the republican side in thecivil war were admitted to the intimacy <strong>of</strong> theemperor and the letter <strong>of</strong> the old constitution;was preserved inviolate at a time when its spiritwas fundamentally subverted.Augustus seems really to have been by temperamenta conservative. He cared little for thepomp and circumstance <strong>of</strong> power, and was underno temptation to imitate those excesses <strong>of</strong> unconstitutionallanguage and demeanour, the fatalcandour <strong>of</strong> which had proved more disastrousto his uncle Julius Caesar than the most violent<strong>of</strong> his actions. He knew that wounded vanityis a more potent factor in the making <strong>of</strong> patriotsthan loss <strong>of</strong> liberty. Moreover, he was attachedto the Roman traditions and religion;he was alover <strong>of</strong> order, system, and decorum ;he had thehistorical sense ;he had an admirable taste inliterature ;he was an indulgent friend ;andhe loved the freedom from restraint in socialintercourse secured with such difficulty byprinces.When Augustus returned from his final victoryat Actium, he contemplated a genuine
CAIUS MAECENAS191restoration <strong>of</strong> the republic ;and to this coursehe was urged by his most powerful lieutenant,Marcus Agrippa. But he was dissuaded fromadopting it by his other chief adviser, the Tuscanknight, Caius Maecenas, who, left in charge <strong>of</strong>the city while the emperor was still absent, hadrecently increased his influence by hisskilful suppressionin its inception <strong>of</strong> a conspiracy againsthis master's formed life, by Lepidus, the son <strong>of</strong>the triumvir.^The character <strong>of</strong> this celebrated man is initself an interesting study ; and, typically differingas it does from that <strong>of</strong> all the public menin earlier Roman history, it enables us to appreciatemore clearly the nature <strong>of</strong> the change that cameover Roman life after the accession <strong>of</strong> Augustusto sole power, and to weigh with more intelligencethe advantages and disadvantages <strong>of</strong> thatchange.Maecenas, in the first place, was a great realist.He pr<strong>of</strong>essed and probably felt nothing butdisdain for allgood and evil derived not fromthings themselves, but from the opinions menform <strong>of</strong> them. Thus, though proud <strong>of</strong> his oldEtruscan lineage, he would never consent to enterthe Senate or to hold the <strong>of</strong>ficial honours— nowbecome in the main titular— <strong>of</strong> praetor or consul.He died^as he was born^ inthe equestrian order.It is indeed possible that his moderation in thismatter was in part a compliment to the emperor,who, himself descended from an equestrianfamily in which his father had been the first1 Yell. Paterculus, ii. 88 ; Appian, iv. 49.
192 CAIUS MAECENASsenator, was not at allashamed to avow the factin his published memoirs ^ and;this theoryreceives some support from the circumstancethat the successor <strong>of</strong> Maecenas inthe confidence<strong>of</strong> Augustus, Crispus Sallustius, followed his examplein this respect, as he did in his luxuriousway <strong>of</strong>—'living diversus a veterum instituto-—'and in his Melbournesque pose <strong>of</strong> indolence andindifference. None the less were his contemporariesastonished by the modesty <strong>of</strong> Maecenas,there being no prior instance in Roman history <strong>of</strong>a public man who enjoyed all the reality withoutany <strong>of</strong> the titular distinctions <strong>of</strong> power. Whateverits real origin, this much-commended abstentionfrom the honours <strong>of</strong> the State can havecaused the statesman little effort. His penetratingvision pierced through the appearances <strong>of</strong>things to their essence, and so all those dignitieswhich owed their importance to the vain opinions'<strong>of</strong> mortal men were to him as nothing. Niladmirari prope res est una.' Perhapsit was <strong>of</strong>Maecenas that Horace was thinking when hewrote that celebrated line.His, again, was the tolerant temperament <strong>of</strong>tenfound to spring from complete scepticism. Ofthe substantial well-being <strong>of</strong> his fellow-men hewas sincerely desirous. But he did not thinkthis likely to be promoted by the restoration <strong>of</strong>their ancient liberties. His good-nature, likethat <strong>of</strong> Sir Robert Walpole, was the child<strong>of</strong> his low opinion <strong>of</strong> human nature— <strong>of</strong> his* Suet., Oct. 2.*Tac, Ann. iii. 30.
CAIUS MAECENAS 193pessimism. He expected little from the virtues<strong>of</strong> others, and therefore felt no anger when theiractions did not exceed his expectations. Withidealism he had no sympathy. He cared fornothing but the actual and the tangible. Theonly way in which he showed his power, we aretold by a hostile critic, was by doing as he pleased— by his contempt for appearances. Romans <strong>of</strong>the old school were shocked to see him loungingabout the streets <strong>of</strong> Rome at a time when, in theabsence <strong>of</strong> Augustus, his power in that city wasabsolute, with his robe hanging loosely about himand a hood pulled over his head leaving his earsexposed ; like a fugitive slave in a comedy, soafter deaththey said.^ For the fate <strong>of</strong> his bodyhe felt a very characteristic indifference. Nee'tumulum euro :sepelit Natura relicfos,' ^ he wrotein one <strong>of</strong> the few Unes <strong>of</strong> his poetry that havebeen preserved to us. What to him was a graveor a monument ? Life was the great reality ;death the negation <strong>of</strong> life. And accordingly heclung to Hfe with a passionate and patheticinsistence which to the <strong>Stoic</strong> <strong>Seneca</strong> appearedcontemptissimus, but from another point <strong>of</strong>view may even be 'regarded as heroic. Torturemy body,' he cries in the well-known lines toFortune, ' rack me with gout ;break and distortmy Hmbs ;nail me to a cross ;grant me butLife, and it is well.' <strong>Seneca</strong> has generally beenechoed, and these verses have been <strong>of</strong>ten quotedto show the innate effeminacy <strong>of</strong> Maecenas ;buthow do they differ, save by inferior expression,*<strong>Seneca</strong>, Ep. 114.*Id., Ep. 92.
194 CAIUS MAECENASfrom the great lines which Milton puts into themouth <strong>of</strong> Belial ?Who would lose,Though full <strong>of</strong> pain, this intellectual being.Those thoughts that wander through eternity,To perish rather, swallowed up and lostIn the wide womb <strong>of</strong> uncreated nightDevoid <strong>of</strong> sense and motion ?However, that Maecenas was really selfindulgentand over-luxurious in his manner <strong>of</strong>life is, <strong>of</strong> course, undeniable. All the Romanauthorities are agreed upon this point. Epicureanismwas the fashionable philosophy <strong>of</strong> thetime, and there can be little doubt that <strong>of</strong> thisfashion the indolent statesman was a principalleader. He disliked forms and despised conventions.The small Roman banquets, with theirwines and their sweet ointments, their music andtheir roses, were clearly delightful to him. Heforgave the numerous infidelities <strong>of</strong> his beautifulwife Terentia ;and although he <strong>of</strong>ten divorcedher he as <strong>of</strong>ten took her back, thinking perhapsthat to act otherwise would be to fling away thesubstance <strong>of</strong> his pleasure for a shadow. But,realist though he was, the fact that the emperor,to whom he was sincerely attached, was amongher lovers appears to have troubled his decliningyears. He forgave Augustus, nevertheless, andbequeathed to him the greater part <strong>of</strong> his possessions.Velleius Paterculus tells us that thoughprovident and energetic enough when somethingdefinite had to be done, as soon as the businessin hand ceased to be urgent he relapsed into an
CAIUS MAECENAS195Heindolence and s<strong>of</strong>tness more than feminine.^delighted in the games <strong>of</strong> the Campus Martius.His friends he chose from inclination and withoutrespect <strong>of</strong> persons from among the poets and wits<strong>of</strong> his time ; his acquaintance with a view toamusement. Horace describes a dinner-party atthe house <strong>of</strong> the rich parvenu Nasidienus atwhich Maecenas was present attended by twoboon companions (umbrae). For the diversion<strong>of</strong> the great man the pomposity and vanity <strong>of</strong>the host were ruthlessly exploited by his tw<strong>of</strong>ollowers under the forms <strong>of</strong> politeness ;thenoise increased as the wine circulated ;and thefeast came to an end amid riotous buffoonery.*We see him, through the eyes <strong>of</strong> Propertius,driving through Rome in a cunningly-wrought twowheeledchariot <strong>of</strong> a kind lately imported fromBritain ^ while at other times he would; forgetthe cares <strong>of</strong> State and dine merrily with Horace'sine aulaeis et ostro ' at the Sabine farm whichthe poet owed to his munificence.The Palace <strong>of</strong> Art, the construction <strong>of</strong> whichas an habitation for his soul was the object <strong>of</strong>Maecenas's later life, proved, as we shall see, buta crumbling and unstable edifice. But in themeantime it demanded a splendid material environment,and this he provided by his house andgardens on the Esquihne. Here he transformedthe old Roman plebeian cemetery into a park,famous through many succeeding generations;and here he built a l<strong>of</strong>ty tower, from the sunmiit<strong>of</strong> which he would spend hours in contemplating1 ii. 88.«Hon, Sai. ii. 8.» Prop.ii. i.
196 CAIUS MAECENASthe beautiful prospect <strong>of</strong> the Campagna with the<strong>of</strong> Tibur in the distance and nearer at handslopesthe fume and fret and riches <strong>of</strong> the EternalCity.^ Maecenas was a valetudinarian, with ahorror <strong>of</strong> death. He was a victim to acuteinsomnia. The elder Pliny assures us that forthe last three years <strong>of</strong> his life he never enjoyed^a moment's sleep ; and, quite incredible as thisstatement may be, even itsapproximate accuracyisquite enough to account for the ceaselesscomplaints with which, as we know from Horace,he was accustomed to overburden his friends.Ingenuity was exhausted to devise a remedy forthis terrible affliction. The sound <strong>of</strong> fallingwaters, the choicest wines, the music <strong>of</strong> symphoniesgently rising and falling in the distance —*symphoniarum '— cantum ex longinquo lene resonantiumall were vain.' The tower itself——standing amid its vast gardens and orchardswas a centre <strong>of</strong> quiet. There Augustus tookrefuge when attacked by illness thither;camethe unsocial and unhappy Tiberius to rest his eyesfrom the hated sight <strong>of</strong> his fellow-men ;thereNero sang in costume the story <strong>of</strong> burning Troyas he watched with aesthetic delight the flamesthat were consuming his ill-fated capital. Suchwas the retreat chosen by Maecenas, when heobtainedthe emperor's permission to retire frompubliclife and to seek what Tacitus calls a sort<strong>of</strong> peregrinum otium within the city. Here heentertained the poets to whom he owes most <strong>of</strong>^Hor., Od. iii. 29.»Sen., De Prov. iii. g.»Pliny, Hist. Nat. vii, 52.
CAIUS MAECENAS197his fame, and here he held close intercourse withthe pure spirit <strong>of</strong> Virgil, to whom he had presenteda house on the Esquiline close to his own.Augustus, in one <strong>of</strong> the pleasant letters to himhappily preserved to us by Suetonius, declareshis wish to steal from him Horace, whom he desiresto engage as a private secretar3^ Veniet'ergo' he writes, ' ah ista parasitica mensa adhanc regiant, et nos in scrihendis episfolis'juvabitLet him (' quit that parasitic table <strong>of</strong> yours forour palace, and he shall help us with our correspondence' But Horace declined the^) . proposal ;and Augustus, ever reasonable, had the good sensenot to be <strong>of</strong>fended. Both Horace and Virgil,however, much preferred the country to the town,and their patron, sorely against his will, wasobliged to indulge their inclinations in this respect.Maecenas had evidently a genius for friendship.We read that a certain Melissus, a distinguishedgrammarian, although free-born, hadbeen exposed in his infancy by his mother andbrought up as a slave. He became <strong>of</strong> the household<strong>of</strong> Maecenas, and was by him treated ratheras a friend than as a servant. Afterwards, hismother, repenting <strong>of</strong> her action, claimed him asher son, and he was thus given the opportunity<strong>of</strong> recovering his freedom. But, preferring toliberty his actual condition in the service <strong>of</strong>Maecenas, he rejected the pr<strong>of</strong>fered acknowledgment.He was afterwards manumitted byMaecenas, introduced to the emperor, and appointedlibrarian to the new Octavian Library.''» Suet,, in vita Hor. » Suet,, De Illus. Gramm. 21,
198 CAIUS MAECENASIt is <strong>of</strong>ten the case with men whose friendshipis valuable and enduring that their manner inthe early stages <strong>of</strong> acquaintance shows a certaintentative reserve. The plant <strong>of</strong> genuine affectionbetween male friends isapt to be <strong>of</strong> slow growth.Maecenas was no exception to this rule. Horacetells us that when he was first introduced toMaecenas, to whom he was recommended byVirgil, he was received rather coldly and notrecalled for nine months. But from that timeonwards there seems to have been no break in amutual sympathy that ever increased. As afriend Maecenas was no respecter <strong>of</strong> persons.With the emperor he used a freedom which hepermittedto those who were more or less dependenton himself. The well-known story <strong>of</strong> how,when Augustus was sitting at the seat <strong>of</strong> justiceand about to condemn many men to death,Maecenas, unable from the press to approach him,threw to him a little scroll with ' Surge tandemcarnifex ' (' Rise,!hangman written on') it, andhow the emperor at once rose and left the tribunalwithout another word, is equally creditableto both these friends. The lives <strong>of</strong> theaccused were spared, and the bold ministergained rather than lost credit with his master.^Nor did he lose his favour when, by his indiscretionin confiding to his wife Terentia the secret<strong>of</strong> the discovery <strong>of</strong> Murena's conspiracy, he riskedthe failure <strong>of</strong> the measures taken for its suppression.To his own dependents he extended theindulgence received by him from the emperor.*Dion Cassius, iv. 7
CAIUS MAECENAS199He was not <strong>of</strong>fended when Horace broke hispromise <strong>of</strong> returning to Rome, and Hngered monthafter month first in his Sabine farm and afterwards,during the winter months, on the southern coast.The poetic apology he earned from him would,it is true, have soothed the indignation <strong>of</strong> mostmen.'Horati Flacci, ut mei, mentor esto '('Remember Horace as you would myself),was his last testamentary recommendation to theemperor.^ Horace did not long survive him, andwas buried on the Esquiline close to his patron'sgrave.The patience <strong>of</strong> Maecenas was tried by therather feeble character <strong>of</strong> Propertius, and he used<strong>of</strong>ten to urge that poet to quit his lovelorn dittiesand compose something more worthy <strong>of</strong> histalents. Propertius replied by citing his patron'smoderation in remaining a knight as an exampleto others to confine themselves within modestspheres <strong>of</strong> action.* Virgil was an even olderfriend than Horace, but his shyness and taciturnityprobably rendered their relations lesseasy and unreserved. In the anonymous biography<strong>of</strong> Virgil which has descended to us fromancient times there are two replies made by thepoet to the minister which one would fain believeto be authentic. On one occasion he wasasked by Maecenas, characteristically enough, 'there anything, Virgil, that man can possess withoutsatiety? ' ' In everything,' was the reply,staleness or abundance produces disgust— except'in understanding.' At another time Maecenas1Suet., in vita Hor.* Prop. iii. 9.Is
200 CAIUS MAECENASasked him in what manner it was pr<strong>of</strong>itable toenjoy and preserve great gifts <strong>of</strong> fortune. Virgil'replied Then :only when a man is ambitious tosurpass others as greatly in justice and liberalityas he does in wealth and honours.'Maecenas was a copious author, but he probablydid not attach much importance to his owncompositions. It is remarkable that among allthe compliments showered upon him by his parasiticamensa— by Horace, Virgil, and—Propertiusnot one relates to his literary productions, andit is a fair inference that his vanity was not muchinterested in their success. He was as indifferentto the literary as he was to the political traditions<strong>of</strong> Rome. The nova elocutio which he introducedinto his poetry, the transpositions <strong>of</strong> words fromtheir natural places for the sake <strong>of</strong> effect, thepreciosities <strong>of</strong> his style, were derided by hislater critics likecontemporaries, and cited by<strong>Seneca</strong> and Quintilian as the classical examples<strong>of</strong> this kind <strong>of</strong> vicious composition.^ The fewspecimens <strong>of</strong> his poetry that have descended tous abundantly bear out the charge, though itmust be remembered that, for the most part,they are expressly cited with that object. Thesevere taste <strong>of</strong> Augustus, who equally disliked theaffected imitation <strong>of</strong> old writers bythe use <strong>of</strong>obsolete words, and the over-ornate and eccentricmanner <strong>of</strong> the new school, did not spare the<strong>of</strong> the minister'seuphemisms and quaintnessesstyle. Macrobius has preserved for us the end<strong>of</strong> a letter from the emperor to Maecenas in*Sen., Ep. 19, 114 ; Quint, ix. 4.
CAIUS MAECENAS 201which he parodies his friend's style with happyeffect :'Vale mel gentium,' so it runs, ' melcule,ebur ex Hetruria, laver Aretinum, adamas supernus,Tiberinum margaritum, Cilniorum smaragde,jaspis figulorum, berylle Porsennae, carbunculumItaliae.' ^ Maecenas's love <strong>of</strong> precious stones, <strong>of</strong>which we have evidence in some surviving hendecasyllablesaddressed by him to Horace, is alsorallied in this letter. <strong>Seneca</strong>, to whom we owemuch <strong>of</strong> our scanty knowledge <strong>of</strong> Maecenas, tellsus that his writings were <strong>of</strong>ten greatin theirmeaning, but enervated by their expression.^The change effected in the Roman characterat the close <strong>of</strong> the first century before Christ, withits subsequent developments, <strong>of</strong>fers an interestingstudy to the philosophic historian. The housewas completed, the architects who had superintendedits completion had fought for its possession,into which the strongest <strong>of</strong> them had finallyentered. The employment which had absorbedthe lives <strong>of</strong> the workmen was at an end, and nowtheir unemployed descendants began to look aboutthem and to wonder what they were to do next.In fact, the cultivated Romans, havingfirst time leisure to remember that they werealive,life.was stillfor thebegan the dangerous search for theories <strong>of</strong>Philosophy, which, as we learn from Cicero,in his time by many considered a studybelow the dignity <strong>of</strong> a Roman gentleman,nowbegan powerfully to attract the attention <strong>of</strong> theeducated classes, and the writings <strong>of</strong> the Greekphilosophers were eagerly»Mac, Sat. ii.4discussed. <strong>Stoic</strong>ism,»Ep. 92-
202 CAIUS MAECENASwith its seeming paradoxes, appealed very little atfirst to the downright Roman mind. A love <strong>of</strong> thepalpable and a contempt for subtlety were amongits prominent characteristics. The via media <strong>of</strong>the Peripatetics found more favour, but men insearch <strong>of</strong> a new belief do not readily adopt compromises,which spring from the attempt to adaptto new conditions an old creed that we are lothto desert. But Epicureanism, which pr<strong>of</strong>essedto base itself upon common sense and the directtestimony <strong>of</strong> the senses, and which swept impatientlyaway the whole paraphernalia <strong>of</strong> logicwith its definitions and distinctions, progressedwith amazing rapidity. Bodily pleasure, criedthe Epicureans,is the ultimate good ; and arespectable life is to be recommended, becausewithout itbodily pleasure becomes impossible.Pain is the only real evil ;other so-called ills arethe artificial creations <strong>of</strong> opinion. The foolishare tossed to and fro on the phantasmal waves<strong>of</strong> hopes and fears let them; pull themselvestogether and shake <strong>of</strong>f the dream, and they willfind themselves on dry land. By the study <strong>of</strong>unsophisticated beasts we maysee nature as in amirror ;let us imitate them, and no longer groanunder the tyranny <strong>of</strong> convention. The opposite<strong>of</strong> pain is exemption from pain, and this is thehighest enduring pleasure. Pain must <strong>of</strong>ten beendured and even courted in order to avoid afuture greater pain, and pleasure sacrificed to theattainment <strong>of</strong> a future greater pleasure. To attainthese objects courageis a useful and temperancean essential quality. As objects in space appear
CAIUS MAECENAS 203smaller or larger as they are nearer or more distant,The functionso do pleasures and pains in time.<strong>of</strong> wisdom is to estimate their real magnitude,and to correct by reason the errors induced bythe fallacious aspect which they <strong>of</strong>fer to thepassions.The accessories <strong>of</strong> pleasure and painrather than the things themselves excite our hopesand fears ; by philosophy these accessories willbe made to vanish, and the two objects— whichalone have a real existence— will be regarded intheir own naked proportions. Providence is a;mythinfinite time has formed man, is fortuitous ;the combination <strong>of</strong> atoms, which inthere is a continual passage <strong>of</strong> elements intothings and <strong>of</strong> things into elements the world;and all that therein is are things, and thereforemortal ;nothing endures but the atoms <strong>of</strong> whichthe number <strong>of</strong> shapes is limited, while in eachshape the number <strong>of</strong> atoms is infinite.Though the contradictions and poverties involvedin this system were ably exposed by Ciceroin his book De Finibus, yet the tenets continuedto spread, and deeply affected the Roman characterand history. Liberty now seemed an unsubstantialnotion, an empty name, for which it wasthe height <strong>of</strong> absurdity to suffer. Alone amongphilosophers the Epicurean lecturers never alludedin their discourses to the ancient heroes <strong>of</strong> Greeceand Rome. Atticus is a good specimen <strong>of</strong> thebest class <strong>of</strong> men who at this time adopted Epicureanism.Living in accordance with his principlesin retirement at Athens, where his amiabilitymade him the idol <strong>of</strong> the people, he remained
204 CAIUS MAECENASthroughout his life on the best terms with thevarious party-leaders, nor did the assassination<strong>of</strong> his friends appear to him a sufficient reasonfor quarrelling with their assassins. Sylla andPompey, Marcus Brutus and Julius Caesar, Ciceroand Antony, and finally Octavius, were all includedin the list<strong>of</strong> his friends.Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueriPer campos instructa tua sine parte pericU.Consistent to the end, he deliberately starvedhimself to death in order to avoid the greaterpain <strong>of</strong> a lingering illness. The civil wars musthave appeared to him a melancholy absurdity,useful only as they placed in more striking reliefhis own philosophical tranquillity.It is not difficult to account for the rapidspread <strong>of</strong> the new philosophy among the RomanThe miseries <strong>of</strong> the civil wars gaveupper classes.reason to those who asserted their irrationality.The contrast between the tangible enjoymentspossible under the strong imperial governmentand the pains which were endured while Brutusand Cato were still struggling for an idea wasmade and registered by the practical Romanmind. The Emperor Augustus, who regardedlife as a sorry play in which he was amused t<strong>of</strong>ind that the principal part had fallen to himself,Augustus, with his sceptical good sense andmoderation, encouraged to some extent the ideaswhich afforded so effective a guarantee for thestability <strong>of</strong> his government, though at times hewas alarmed at the progress they had made
and endeavoured toCAIUS MAECENAS 205check them by precept andexample.And his minister, Maecenas, found ready tohis hand a theory <strong>of</strong> Ufe which exactly accordedwith his own inclinations and habits <strong>of</strong> mind.Cultured, luxurious, and good-natured, he disUkedstiffness, whether in manners, literature, or dress.He was himself <strong>of</strong> noble birth, but believed thedistinctions <strong>of</strong> rank to be the creations <strong>of</strong> anempty convention. His enjoyment <strong>of</strong> the pleasures<strong>of</strong> life has seldom been rivalled, and hismain departure from the principles <strong>of</strong> his schoollay in his consequent horror <strong>of</strong> death. He wasa man <strong>of</strong> great intellect, <strong>of</strong> an exquisite taste inliterature, and there was probably no affectationin his laughing disregard<strong>of</strong> all the old Romanconventions. Such was Maecenas ;and greatindeed must have been the change which hadpassed over the genius <strong>of</strong> the Roman Commonwealthwhen such a man could appear at itshead.
IAPPENDIXTABLE IAugustus Imp. = (i) Claudia, (2) Scribonia, (3) LiviaJulia = (i) Marcellus, (2) M. Agrippa, (3) TiberiusCaiusCaesarLuciusCaesarAgrippaPostumusJuliaL. Aemilius Agrippina (major)Paulus — GennanicusAemilia = (i) Claudius, (2) App.Lepida | Junius SilanusL. Silanus,affianced to Octavia,d. <strong>of</strong> ClaudiusINero =Julia,d. <strong>of</strong> Drusus,the son <strong>of</strong>TiberiusIDrususCaius CaligulaImp.AgrippinaCn. DomitiusDrusilla= M. LepidusLivil'= M. ViNero Imp.TABLE IILivia Drusilla = (i) Tiberius Claudius Nero, (2) AugustusTiberius Imp. = Vipsania AgrippinaDrusus Claudius = Antonia (minoIDrususGermanicus Tiberius Claudius iiAgrippina minor. = Valeria MessaSee Table I|IBritannicusOcta.TABLE IIIMarcus Annaeus <strong>Seneca</strong> = HelviaIM. AnnaeusNovatus,by adoptionJunius GallioNovatillaLucius Annaeus = (i)— (2) Pompeia<strong>Seneca</strong>|PaulinaMarcusM. Annaeus I= Atiliad. <strong>of</strong> Atilius Lu<strong>of</strong> CordubaIM. Annaeus Lu'the poet= Polla ArgenPrinted by Spottiswoode, Ballantyne &• Co. Ltd.Colchester, London &• Eton, Eagl&nd
iiHM
PA6675H6Holland, Francis Caldwell<strong>Seneca</strong>PLEASE DO NOT REMOVECARDS OR SLIPSFROM THIS POCKETSCARBOROUGH COLLEGE LIBRARY