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Ancient Classics for English Readers
EDITED BY THE
REV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.
PLINY'S LETTERS



MW
HOMER: THE ILIAD,
HOMER: THE ODYSSEY,
HERODOTUS,
CÆSAR,
VIRGIL,
HORACE,
CONTENTS OF THE SERIES.
ÆSCHYLUS,
XENOPHON,
CICERO,
SOPHOCLES,
PLINY,
EURIPIDES.
JUVENAL
logo.
LIVY,
OVID,
•
BY THE EDITOR.
BY THEODORE MARTIN,
BY THE RIGHT REV. THE BISHOP OF COLOMBO.
BY SIR ALEX. Grant, BART., LL.D.
BY THE EDITOR.
•
BY CLIFTON W. COLLINS, M.A.
BY A. CHURCH, M.A., AND W. J. BRODRIBB, M.A.
BY WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE,
BY EDWARd Walford M.A.
BY THE EDITOR.
ARISTOPHANES,.
HESIOD AND THEOGNIS, BY THE REV. James Davies, M. A.
PLAUTUS AND TERENCE,
BY THE EDITOR.
TACITUS,
BY WILLIAM Bodham Donne.
BY THE EDITOR.
LUCIAN,
PLATO,
BY CLIFTON W. Collins.
BY LORD NEAVES.
BY THE EDITOR
BY THE REV. A. CHURCH, M.A.
CATULLUS, TIBULLUS, & PROPERTIUS, BY J. DAVIES, M.A.
DEMOSTHENES,.
BY THE REV. W. J. BRODRibb, M.A.
BY SIR ALEX. Grant, Bart., LL.D.
ARISTOTLE, .
THUCYDIDES,
BY THE EDITOR.
LUCRETIUS,
BY W. H. MALLOCK, M.A.
By the Rev. F. D. Morice, M.A
PINDAR,
BY THE EDITOR.
BY THE SAME
BY GEORGE C. SWAYNE, M.A
BY ANTHONY TROLLOPE
THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY,
•


84126
PLINY'S LETTERS
BY THE
REV. ALFRED CHURCH, M.A.
HEAD-MASTer of the ROYAL GRAMMAR-SCHOOL,
HENLEY-ON-THAMRS
AND THE
REV. W. J. BRODRIBB, M.A.
late fellow OF ST JOHN's college,
CAMBRIDGE
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
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CHAP.
#1
#
ELDER,
II. THE GREAT ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS,
III. REIGN OF TERROR DOMITIAN'S LAST DAYS—
BANISHMENT OF THE PHILOSOPHERS,
IV. THE NEW AGE VENGEANCE ON THE INFOR
MERS—THE GREAT PROVINCIAL TRIALS,
V. THE ROMAN BAR PLINY'S PRACTICE IN THE
COURT OF THE HUNdred,
VI. MEN OF LETTERS AT ROME,
VII. PUBLIC READINGS,
" VIII. COMUM, PLINY'S BIRTHPLACE
INTEREST IN ITS WELFARE,
IX. PLINY'S FAMILY AND FRIENDS,
x. COUNTRY LIFE-PLINY'S VILLAS,
"
=
11
"1
#1
11
#1
CONTENTS.
#
1. PLINY'S EARLY DAYS-SKETCH OF THE REIGNS
OF VESPASIAN AND TITUS PLINY THE
XI. PLINY IN HIS PROVINCE,
XII. PLINY'S OPINIONS AND HABITS,
84126
PAGE
·
HIS LIVELY
1
12
25
30
44
61
80
90
101
124
141
156
PLINY'S LETTERS.
CHAPTER I.
PLINY'S EARLY DAYS-SKETCH OF THE REIGNS OF
VESPASIAN AND TITUS-PLINY THE ELDER.
No reading can be pleasanter or more instructive than
the correspondence of a clever and accomplished man,
whose circumstances have brought him into continual
contact with the politics and literature of his day.
Cicero's letters are certainly among the most interest-
ing remains of antiquity. Those of the younger Pliny
are indeed the work of a man many degrees intellec-
tually inferior to Cicero, but they have deservedly
found many attentive readers in modern times. They
throw much light on that period of transition in the
history of mankind which began with the origin and
rise of the Christian Church; and, as we read them,
we feel that there is something in their general tone
and character which makes them a sort of link between
the old and new worlds.
a. c. vol. xi.
2
PLINY'S LETTERS.
((
Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus-such was his full
Roman name—is familiarly known as the younger
Pliny," to distinguish him from his uncle, and father
by adoption, the famous naturalist. His mother,
Plinia, was this uncle's sister. His father, Caius
Cæcilius, was a man of no note, but of a good old
Roman stock. The Cæcilian family, though of plebeian
origin, had been for centuries an honourable house,
and could reckon consuls and great state officials
among its scions. The most illustrious name con-
nected with it was that of the Metelli. It was also
wealthy; so that Pliny entered the world under good
auspices. We have to pick out from his own letters all
that can be known about him. He was, he tells us,
in his eighteenth year when that memorable eruption
of Vesuvius, A.D. 79, destroyed the cities of Pompeii
and Herculaneum. He was therefore born A.D. 62, a
year in which the wickedness and infamy of Nero were
rising to their utmost height. Comum, now Como, on
the lake of that name, was the place of his birth, as
may be inferred with almost absolute certainty from vari-
ous passages in his letters. His family, it would seem,
had considerable estates in the neighbourhood; and
their relations to the town and its inhabitants were
much the same as those of a great English landowner
to a borough closely connected with his property.
The early death of his father was possibly the cause
of his future distinction. His uncle, after the Roman
fashion, adopted him as his son, and imbued him with
a love of letters, and an earnest desire of entering on
an honourable career. He had likewise the good
HIS EARLY DAYS.
CA
fortune to have as his guardian a truly great man
Verginius Rufus-to whom we shall have occasion to
refer more at length when we come to speak of Pliny's
friends. As a matter of course, the best education
which the age could furnish was provided for him.
He attended the lectures of the most famous teachers
of the day-of Quintilian among the number. He
must have been a precocious lad, as he tells us that he
wrote a Greek tragedy in his fourteenth year, and that
he began to practise as an advocate at nineteen. His
early success was no doubt due to his remarkable in-
dustry as well as to his great social advantages.
The years of his childhood and youth were terrible
and eventful for the state. The latter period of Nero's
reign was an undisguised despotism, which indulged
itself without restraint in freaks of senseless and
capricious wickedness. The year A.D. 68 delivered the
world from the last and worst of the Cæsars. That
same year witnessed a great rising in the armies of
Gaul and of Lower Germany; and the enpire was
actually offered by the troops on the Rhine to young
Pliny's guardian, Verginius Rufus. He declined it;
and Servius Galba, who had been governor of one of
the provinces of Spain, and was a favourite with the
soldiers, became emperor. Thus was effected a complete
revolution. Men chosen by the soldiers were hence-
forth to rule the Roman world. The secret of the
* So Suetonius terms him, as the last of the Julia gens-that
is, of the family of Julius Cæsar, whether connected with it by
blood or adoption. Commonly the first twelve emperors are
called "the twelve Cæsars."
4
PLINY'S LETTERS,
•
empire, as Tacitus says in one of the opening chapters
of his History, was now divulged, that an emperor
might be created elsewhere than at Rome. The follow-
ing year was one of continuous civil war. It comprises
the brief reigns of Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and is
minutely described by Tacitus. It was a time of
horrible bloodshed and confusion. "I am entering,"
says the historian, "on a period rich in disasters,
frightful in its wars, torn by civil strife, and even in
peace full of horrors." With its close, which witnessed
the establishment of the Flavian dynasty, began a more
hopeful era. Vespasian, the first representative of that
dynasty, was called to the empire by the Roman legions
in the east, to the command of which he had been
appointed at the commencement of the Jewish war.
A man of humble birth, he attained greatness by his
energy and perseverance. He was an able general, and
he retained through life the plain and straightforward
character of a good soldier. His good sense and firm-
ness enabled him to repress or mitigate some of the
worst evils of the time; and his reign was on the whole
a decided benefit to the Roman world.
Vespasian was Emperor from A.D. 70 to 79. During
these years Pliny was diligently pursuing his studies
ander the direction of the best of teachers. The
Emperor himself was a man of no culture or refinement,
but he was shrewd enough to see that it was for the
public good that men of letters should be encouraged.
He had the reputation of being parsimonious to a fault,
but he knew when to be munificent. He founded
a public library, and liberally pensioned poets and
}
THE REIGN OF VESPASIAN.
artists, professors of grammar and rhetoric. Quintilian,
the most successful teacher of the day, rose, contrary
to all precedent, to the consulship. We may well
imagine what a shock it must have been to an old-
fashioned Roman nobleman to see a schoolmaster raised
to the highest dignity in the state. Vespasian no
doubt felt that the surest way to make his government
popular was to conciliate the goodwill of the men who
directed the education of the Roman youth. He could
do nothing with the philosophers, whose political creed,
that especially of the Stoics, was a fanatical repub-
licanism, utterly impracticable, and at the same time
restless and aggressive. He was obliged to treat them
as enemies who were plotting the overthrow of his
government. Of the fate of Helvidius Priscus, the
most eminent, perhaps also the noblest and most con-
scientious, of the Stoics, we shall have occasion to
speak hereafter. He was banished, and soon after put
to death. Then followed a wholesale expulsion from
Rome of all the Stoics and Cynics; and we may infer
from several allusions to them in Juvenal that the
popular sentiment, which regarded them as hypocrites
and impostors, heartily approved this seemingly harsh
measure. The quiet man of letters, who was content
to make the best of existing political arrangements,
had nothing to fear from Vespasian. Such a man
as the elder Pliny was perfectly safe, and, without
any loss of self-respect, could look upon the Emperor
as a friend. In the year A.D. 77, he dedicated his
great work on natural history to Vespasian's son and
successor.
HD)
PLINY'S LETTERS,
(Vespasian encouraged architecture as well as letters.
He adorned both Rome and the provincial cities with
splendid structures. The (Colosseum, the greatest
building of the ancient world, was begun by him.
The Temple of Peace was also his work. He spared
no expense in making the capital, and the empire
generally, more imposing and magnificent. His reign
was peaceful and prosperous; there were none of those
commotions in Gaul, Germany, or the East which
before and after his time almost seemed to threaten the
Roman world with dissolution. As might have been
expected from a prudent and energetic soldier, he
maintained the armies of the state, which numbered
about 400,000 men, in thorough efficiency. In A.D.
78, the great Julius Agricola, Tacitus's father-in-law,
whom Vespasian had raised to the patrician rank, was
sent to Britain, and strengthened the Roman hold
on the island by the conquest of North Wales and
Anglesey. In the following year the Emperor died,
and was succeeded by his son Titus.
The chief event which we usually associate with the
name of Titus is the capture of Jerusalem,* and the
destruction of the Jewish nationality. His short reign
of two years was perfectly tranquil. He was so
popular an emperor that he was spoken of as "the
delight of the human race." Though he had seen and
himself taken part in peculiarly horrible scenes of war,
there was much less of the stern soldier in him than
in his father. He could win men's affections as well
as gain their respect. He was lavish of money, and
* Jerusalem was taken in the month of September, A.D. 70.
THE REIGN OF TITUS.
was sincerely anxious to spread comfort and happiness
among his subjects. The hateful class of informers
who from the time of Tiberius had traded successfully
on false accusations of treason, were driven out of Rome
in disgrace. Like his father, he improved the capital
with great public works. He completed and dedicated
the Colosseum, and gave to Rome the famous baths
which are called by his name. His reign, however,
was not without serious disasters. The great eruption
of Vesuvius in A.D. 79, a fire which raged uninterrupt-
edly in Rome for three days, and was hardly less de-
structive than that in Nero's reign, and a pestilence
which for a while, according to Eusebius, daily de-
stroyed 10,000 of the population, followed in quick
succession. In the eruption of Vesuvius perished a
man who, both for his own merits and for the bene-
ficial influence which he exercised over the mind
of the young Pliny, deserves a detailed notice. To
the elder Pliny we must certainly give the first place
among the authors of his time. He did not, indeed,
escape the weaknesses and defects which marred all
the natural philosophy of the ancients, but he pursued
his studies with an ardour and enthusiasm which could
not fail to produce substantial results.
The nephew, we may be sure, owed much to such an
uncle. In one of his letters,* of which we subjoin a
translation, he describes, with evident admiration, his
uncle's marvellous devotion to study. From this letter
we derive our chief acquaintance with the elder Pliny's
manner of life.
Epist. iii. 5.
8
PLINY'S LETTERS.
"It is a great pleasure to me," he writes to his
friend, Babius Macer, "that you are so fond of reading
my uncle's books that you wish to possess them all,
and ask for a complete list of them. I will do the
part of an index, and also tell you the order in which
they were written, for the studious reader likes to
know this. First comes a work in one volume, on the
use of the dart by cavalry,—a careful and ingenious
treatise, which he composed when he was in command
of one of the cavalry corps of our allied troops. Two
volumes of the life of Pomponius Secundus, a work
which he intended as a tribute to the memory of a
friend who was singularly attached to him. Wars with
Germany, in twenty books; in these, he compiled a
history of all our wars with the German tribes. A
dream which he had when serving with the army in
Germany suggested the work. Drusus Nero, whose
victories in Germany were on the widest scale hitherto
known, and who perished in the country, seemed to
stand by him as he lay asleep, and to entreat him to
rescue his memory from oblivion. The Student, in
three parts, which from their length spread into six
volumes: a work in which is discussed the earliest
training and subsequent education of the orator.
Questions of Grammar and Style, in eight books,
written in the last years of Nero's reign, when every
sort of literary pursuit requiring freedom and elevation.
of tone was dangerous in our enslaved condition. A
History of the State, in continuation of the work of
Aufidius Bassus, in thirty-one books. Last comes his
Natural History, in thirty-seven books; a work of vast
9
extent, and as various as nature itself. You wonder at
a busy man having completed such a number of books-
books, too, containing much abstruse matter; you will
wonder more when I tell you that for some time he
was a pleader, that he died at the age of 56, and that
meantime he was much hindered and distracted by
important state business, and by his intimacy with our
emperors. But his intellect was quick, his industry
perfectly marvellous, his power of remaining awake
remarkable. From the 23d of August he began to
study at midnight, and through the winter he con-
tinued to rise at one, or at the latest at two in the
morning, often at twelve. Sleep he could always com-
maud. Often it used to come upon him and leave
him in the midst of his books. Before daybreak he
would go to the Emperor, Vespasian, who also worked
at night, and thence to his official duties. On returning
home he gave what time remained to study. After
taking a light meal, as our forefathers used to do, he
would often in summer, if he had leisure, recline in the
sun, and have a book read to him, on which he wrote
notes, or from which he made extracts. He read no-
thing without making extracts, for he used to say that
you could get some good from the worst book. After
reading in the sun he generally had a cold bath, then
a light meal and a very short nap, after which, as if he
was beginning another day, he would study till dinner-
time. During dinner a book was read to him, and he
made notes upon it as it went on. I remember one of his
friends once stopping the reader, who had pronounced
a word incorrectly, and making him repeat it. My
THE ELDER PLINY.
10
PLINY'S LETTERS.
uncle said to him, 'Did you not understand the word?'
'Yes,' he replied. 'Why then did you stop him? We
have lost more than ten lines by this interruption.' So
parsimonious was he of his time. He rose from dinner
in the summer by daylight, in winter before seven, as
regularly as if constrained by law. Thus he lived in
the midst of his work and in the bustle of Rome. In
the country, he exempted only his bathing-time from
study; I mean, the actual time of his immersion in
the water, for while he was being rubbed or dried, he
would hear something read or would dictate something.
While travelling, he threw aside every other care, and
gave himself up to study; he always had a scribe
at his side with a book and a writing-tablet, whose
hands in winter were protected by gloves, so that the
cold weather might not rob him of a single moment.
Even at Rome, he used to be carried in a litter with
this view. I remember his rebuking me for taking
a walk. 'You might have managed,' he said, 'not
to lose these hours.' In fact, he thought all time
lost which was not given to study. It was by this
intense application that he completed so great a num-
ber of books, and left me, besides, a hundred and
sixty volumes of extracts, written on both sides of
the leaf, and in the minutest hand. He used to tell
me that when he was governor in Spain, he might
have sold these volumes to Largius Licinus for more
than £3000, and then there were fewer of them.
Would you not think, when you call to mind how
much he read and wrote, that he had never held office
or enjoyed an emperor's favour? And again, on hear-
11
ing of the intensity of his application, would you not
say
that he had not read or written enough? It makes
me smile, when people call me a student; for, compared
with him, I am a mere idler. For myself, I am but a
man whose attention is divided between public business
and services rendered to friends. Yet of those who
devote their life to letters, who would not blush at
being compared with my uncle, and feel himself utterly
lazy and slothful? I have written a long letter, though
you wished only to know what works he left behind
him; but I am sure that this account of him will be
quite as acceptable to you as a list of the books them-
selves, and it may have the effect of urging you in a
spirit of emulation not merely to read them, but even
to accomplish some similar work."
=
1
The nephew, as we shall see, was a less close student
than the uncle, but a man whose range of interests was
wider and more diversified.
i
THE ELDER PLINY.
CHAPTER II.
THE GREAT ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
In summer of A.D. 79 was made memorable by a
frightful catastrophe, of which Pliny was an eye-
witness, and of which he has left us a singularly
valuable account, in two letters written some years
afterwards to his friend the historian Tacitus. The
writer was, as usual, residing at the time with his
uncle and his mother near Misenum, where the elder
Pliny was in command of the fleet stationed at that
place-a promontory which forms the northern ex-
tremity of the Bay of Naples. The Bay, then, as
now, one of the most beautiful spots in the world,
was crowded with the villas of the Roman nobility.
Baiæ, the Brighton of Rome, with its splendid baths
and terraces built out into the sea; Puteoli, with
its busy harbour; Neapolis, one of the largest and
wealthiest of the Italian cities; with Herculaneum,
Pompeii, and Stabiæ,-occupied the sea-coast in an
almost continuous line. Behind them, with its slopes
reaching almost to the sea, rose Vesuvius, clad to its
summit, which reached the height of about 4000 feet,
".
·
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
13
with olive and vine. A luxuriant vegetation concealed
all traces of the volcanic nature of the mountain, and
✓ neither history nor tradition preserved any record which
might warn the populous cities at its base of the
danger which threatened them. Earthquakes, indeed,
were not unfrequent in the country; and one of more
severity than usual had, sixteen years before, seriously
injured both Herculaneum and Pompeii. But of the
existence of a volcano no suspicion seems to have been
entertained.
*It was at one o'clock in the afternoon of the 24th of
August that the elder Pliny, always an eager observer
of natural phenomena, was summoned by his sister-in-
law from his study to witness a strange sight—a cloud
of unusual size and shape, which was visible on the
opposite side of the Bay. It rose from one of the
hills, which the observers did not know at the time
to be Vesuvius, like a stone-pine with a lofty trunk
and a cluster of branches at the top, continually vary-
ing in height, and of a changing hue, sometimes fiery-
bright, sometimes streaked with black. It was the
beginning of that great shower of ashes and dust which
is said—a not incredible assertion, when we compare it
with the records of other eruptions-to have reached
as far as Africa and Egypt. The old philosopher,
anxious to get a nearer view of what was happening,
ordered one of the light vessels belonging to the fleet
to be manned. At the same time he invited his nephew
to accompany him; an offer which the young man, who
was more attached to literature than to natural science,
* This account gives the substance of Epist. vi. 16.
14
PLINY'S LETTERS.
declined, pleading in excuse a literary task which
his uncle had set him. The two did not meet again.
The uncle, whose fortunes our narrative will follow
for the present, changed his purpose on arriving at the
shore. A letter was put into his hands from Rectina,
the wife of Caesius Bassus, a poet of some eminence,
who had a villa on the shore of the Bay. This lady
was terrified at the danger in which she found her-
self-not without reason, if it be true, as we are told,
that her husband actually perished in the eruption.
The admiral's philosophical curiosity gave place to a
more serious purpose. Others besides Rectina were
imperilled, and he might give them help. The galleys
of the fleet were ordered to put to sea, and to steer for
the opposite side of the Bay, where the danger was
obviously most imminent. How serious this danger
was, became more evident as they approached the
scene. Showers of cinders and fragments of heated
stone fell around and upon the ships. At the same
time it was found that the soundings of the Bay were
altered—an effect attributed to the falling masses, but
probably in a great measure owing to an elevation of the
sea-bed. The elder Pliny, who had continued calmly
to note down his observations, hesitated for a moment
whether or no he should proceed; his sailing-master
strongly advised return. His resolve was soon taken.
Crying out, "Fortune helps the bold," he gave orders
that the fleet should make for the little town of Stabiæ,
near the extreme southern point of the Bay, where his
friend, or, as some suppose, his second in command,
Pomponianus, was residing. While the ships were
15
busy in embarking the terrified inhabitants of the
coast, the admiral himself, who had landed at his
friend's villa, did his best to encourage the frightened
inmates, and proceeded, with what was anyhow an
admirable assumption of cheerfulness, to enjoy the
bath and dinner which formed the customary close of
a Roman gentleman's day. Flames, which the ap-
proaching darkness had now made more visible, were
seen to break forth from the summit and sides of
Vesuvius, and the alarm at the villa increased. The
philosopher made light of these fears, and accounted
for the flames by the theory that some of the country
houses in the neighbourhood, which had been deserted
by their inhabitants, had caught fire. He then retired
to his bedchamber; the other inmates of the house
were in no humour for sleep, but as they passed his
door they heard the deep snoring (the philosopher
was of a corpulent habit) which indicated that his
slumbers were undisturbed. Before long, however,
it was found necessary to rouse him. His apartment
was approached from an open court, and this was fill-
ing up so rapidly with ashes and stones that egress
would soon have become impossible. He rose and
joined his friends, who were in doubt what course to
pursue. The house was trembling with frequent shocks
of earthquake, and threatened destruction to its in-
mates. Out of doors there was the peril of the falling
stones, which, though calcined with fire, and therefore
light in proportion to their size, seemed sufficiently
heavy to be dangerous.* To leave the house appeared,
* Some have been found at Pompeii, which was, however
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
16
PLINY'S LETTERS.
on the whole, the preferable alternative. With pillows
and cushions fastened upon their heads by way of pro-
tection, the party sallied forth, first making their way
to the sea, by which they hoped to secure their escape.
They found it wild and stormy, with the wind blowing
strongly on shore, and were compelled for the pre-
sent to abandon the idea. The old man, fatigued with
his exertions, lay down upon a rug which the attend-
ants spread for him. Twice he asked for a draught of
cold water; then, when the sudden approach of flames
and sulphurous vapour dispersed the party, in attempt-
ing, with the help of two of his servants, to rise from
the ground, he fell dead. The actual cause of his death
cannot be determined. His nephew says that he was
choked with sulphurous vapour, which acted the more
readily on him as his breathing was affected by chronic
weakness. But this account was collected from hear-
say, and was written many years after the occurrence ;
while it may well be doubted, according to a writer of
the first authority on such subjects,* whether flames and
sulphurous vapours could have been present at Stabiæ,
ten miles from the centre of the eruption. We may
conjecture, as a more probable cause of death, a sudden
attack of illness. This supposition agrees with what we
are told was the appearance of the corpse when it was
found three days afterwards,-"The attitude of the body
was more like that of a sleeper than that of a dead man.”
considerably nearer to Vesuvius, weighing as much as eight
pounds. At Stabiæ, none have been found exceeding an ounce
in weight.
* Professor Phillips: Vesuvius,' p. 20.
17
We must now return to the younger Pliny and his
mother. The narrative which he gives us of his own
adventures* is so characteristic of the man, and at times
so graphic in its descriptions, that we cannot do better
than present it to our readers in a form as closely
resembling the original as possible.
"When my uncle had started, I spent such time as
was left on my studies-it was on their account, in-
deed, that I had stopped behind. Then followed the
bath, dinner, and sleep,-this last disturbed and brief.
There had been noticed for many days before a trem----
bling of the earth, which had caused, however, but
little fear, because it is not unusual in Campania. But
that night it was so violent, that one thought that
everything was being not merely moved but absolutely
overturned. My mother rushed into my chainber; I
was in the act of rising, with the same intention of
awaking her should she have been asleep. We sat
down in the open court of the house, which occupied
a small space between the buildings and the sea. And
now-I do not know whether to call it courage or
folly, for I was but in my eighteenth year I called for
a volume of Livy, read it, as it I were perfectly at
leisure, and even continued to make some extracts
which I had begun. Just then arrived a friend of my
uncle, who had lately come to him from Spain;† when
he saw that we were sitting down-that I was even
reading-he rebuked my mother for her patience, and
me for my blindness to the danger. Still I bent my.
Epist. vii. 20.
*
+ The elder Pliny had been Procurator in Spain.
A. C. vol. xi.
B
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
18
PLINY'S LETTERS.
•
self as industriously as ever over my book. It was
now seven o'clock in the morning, but the daylight
was still faint and doubtful. The surrounding build-
ings were now so shattered, that in the place where we
were, which though open was small, the danger that
they might fall on us was imminent and unmistakable.
So we at last determined to quit the town. A panic-
stricken crowd followed us. They preferred the ideas
of others to their own-in a moment of terror this has
a certain look of prudence-and they pressed on us and
drove us on, as we departed, by their dense array.
When we had got away from the building, we stopped.
There we had to endure the sight of many marvellous,
many dreadful things. The carriages which we had
directed to be brought out moved about in opposite
directions, though the ground was perfectly level;
even when scotched with stones they did not remain
steady in the same place. Besides this, we saw the
sea retire into itself, seeming, as it were, to be driven
back by the trembling movement of the earth. The
shore had distinctly advanced, and many marine
animals were left high and dry upon the sands. Be-
hind us was a dark and dreadful cloud, which, as it
was broken with rapid zigzag flashes, revealed behind
it variously-shaped masses of flame: these last were
like sheet lightning, though on a larger scale. Then
our friend from Spain addressed us more energetically
and urgently than ever. 'If your brother,' he said,
'if your uncle is alive, he wishes you to be saved; if
he has perished, he certainly wished you to survive
him. If so, why do you hesitate to escape?' We
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
19
answered that we could not bear to think about our
own safety while we were doubtful of his. He lingered
no longer, but rushed off, making his way out of the
danger at the top of his speed. It was not long before
the cloud that we saw began to descend upon the
earth and cover the sea. It had already surrounded
and concealed the island of Capreæ, and had made
invisible the promontory of Misenum. My mother
besought, urged, even commanded me to fly as best I
could; 'I might do so,' she said, 'for I was young;
she, from age and corpulence, could move but slowly,
but would be content to die, if she did not bring
death upon me.' I replied that I would not seek
safety except in her company; I clasped her hand,
and compelled her to go with me. She reluctantly
obeyed, but continually reproached herself for delaying
me. Ashes now began to fall-still, however, in small
quantities. I looked behind me; a dense dark mist
seemed to be following us, spreading itself over the
country like a cloud. 'Let us turn out of the way,'
I said, 'whilst we can still see, for fear that should
we fall in the road we should be trodden under foot in
the darkness by the throngs that accompany us.' We
had scarcely sat down when night was upon us,-not
such as we have when there is no moon, or when the
sky is cloudy, but such as there is in some closed room
when the lights are extinguished. You might hear
the shrieks of women, the monotonous wailing of
children, the shouts of men. Many were raising their
voices, and seeking to recognise by the voices that
replied, parents, children, husbands, or wives. Some
20
PLINY'S LETTERS.
were loudly lamenting their own fate, others the fate
of those dear to them. Some even prayed for death, in
their fear of what they prayed for. Many lifted their
hands in prayer to the gods; more were convinced
that there were now no gods at all, and that the final
endless night of which we have heard had come upon
the world.* There were not wanting persons who
exaggerated our real perils with terrors imaginary or
wilfully invented. I remember some who declared
that one part of the promontory Misenum had fallen,
that another was on fire; it was false, but they found
people to believe them. It now grew somewhat light
again; we felt sure that this was not the light of day,
but a proof that fire was approaching us. Fire there
was, but it stopped at a considerable distance from us ;
then came darkness again, and a thick heavy fall of
ashes. Again and again we stood up and shook them
off; otherwise we should have been covered by them,
and even crushed by the weight. I might boast that
not a sigh, not a word wanting in courage, escaped me,
even in the midst of peril so great, had I not been
convinced that I was perishing in company with the
universe, and the universe with me-a miserable and
yet a mighty solace in death. At last the black mist I
had spoken of seemed to shade off into smoke or cloud,
and to roll away. Then came genuine daylight, and the
sun shone out with a lurid light, such as it is wont to
have in an eclipse. Our eyes, which had not yet re
* This final annihilation of the universe, in which the gods
themselves would be included, was an idea common to the
classical and Scandinavian mythologies.
L
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
21
C
covered from the effects of fear, saw everything changed,
everything covered deep with ashes as if with snow.
We returned to Misenum, and, after refreshing ourselves
as best we could, spent a night of anxiety in mingled
hope and fear. Fear, however, was still the stronger
feeling; for the trembling of the earth continued, while
many frenzied persons, with their terrific predictions,
gave an exaggeration that was even ludicrous to the
calamities of themselves and of their friends. Even
then, in spite of all the perils which we had experience
and which we still expected, we had not a thought of
going away till we could hear news of my uncle."
This account, though sufficiently vivid in its descrip-
tion of the feelings and demeanour of the writer and
his companions, is scarcely satisfactory as a narrative
of facts. The writer does not tell us in what direction
the fugitives proceeded, though we may gather, from
what he says about the island of Capreæ having become
invisible, that they advanced along the shore of the
Bay, and therefore towards the immediate neighbour-
hood of the eruption. Capreæ (Capri) would have
been naturally hidden by the high land of the pro-
montory from persons travelling in a northerly direc
tion. Again, he says nothing about the time covered
by his narrative. But as he would probably have
mentioned the circumstance, had he passed a night in
the open air, we may suppose that he returned to the
villa at Misenum on the afternoon of the same day on
which he had quitted it, this day being the 25th of
August. The promontory is about twenty miles dis-
tant from Vesuvius, and the strong north wind which
22
PLINY'S LETTERS.
was blowing during the day would have helped to clear
the atmosphere. At Stabiæ, on the opposite side of the
Bay, and much nearer to the mountain, the effects of the
eruption lasted longer. The body of the elder Pliny :
was found, we are told, "on the morning of the third
day from that which he had last seen."
This day
"which he had last seen" must have been the 24th,*
that on which he quitted his house; for though he was
alive on the morning of the next, we are told that every-
thing was wrapt in darkness. If we follow the inclu-
sive reckoning by which the Romans, with other nations
of antiquity, commonly counted their days, we infer
that it was found possible to revisit Stabiæ, and to
search for the corpse, on the morning of the 26th.†
It is natural to suppose that when the first violence o
the eruption had been spent, the lighter showers of
ashes might continue to fall on the southern side of
the Bay. That much, however, could not have fallen,
may be inferred from what is said about the finding
of the body.
A more remarkable omission, as at first sight it ap-
pears to be, is the absence of any allusion to the fearful
event which the mention of the first eruption at once
suggests to us-the destruction of the cities of Hercu-
* Epist. vi. 16, 20.
+ The most obvious illustration of this reckoning is to be
found in the narrative of the resurrection of our Lord. Accord-
ing to the accounts of the evangelists, He was buried in the
evening of Friday, and left the grave before dawn on Sunday,
being said "to rise again on the third day," and even-a much
stronger expression-to have "been three days and three nights
in the earth.”
*
ERUPTION OF VESU VIUS.
23
laneum and Pompeii. They were both, it is true,
places of third-rate importance-a fact which we are
apt to lose sight of in the singular interest which they
possess for us. Nevertheless the catastrophe would
have been certainly noticed by our author if it had
been his business, at the time of writing, to do so.
But both of the letters, of which we have been making
use in this chapter, were written in compliance with
definite requests on the part of his correspondent.
Tacitus, who was then collecting materials for his
History, a work which was to inclule the period from
the accession of Galba to the death of Domitian, first
asked his friend for an account of the last hours of his
uncle. A casual phrase in the letter which this
request called forth, suggested to the historian that his
friend's personal experiences would be of interest and
value. With these, accordingly, a second letter sup-
plied him. The particulars of the most important inci-
dent in the eruption-the destruction of the cities-he
obtained elsewhere. In the prefatory chapters of the
History, he mentions, among the events which he
will have to record, "disasters," as he expresses it,
"either entirely novel or that recurred only after a long
succession of ages," that "cities in the richest plains of
Campania were swallowed up and overwhelmed." Un-
happily this portion of the work has been lost. The
consequence is, that we are left without any contempo-
rary account of the calamity. An epigram of Martial,
written about twelve years after the event, and the
words which have been quoted from Tacitus, are the
only allusions that we find till we come to Dion
24
PLINY'S LETTERS.
Cassius, a Greek rhetorician of the third century. He
tells us, amidst other particulars, real or fabulous, that
the matter sent forth from Vesuvius buried two cities,
Herculaneum and Pompeii, while the population was
sitting in the theatre. Modern research informs us
that Herculaneum was overwhelmed by a torrent of
liquid mud, which issued from the volcano,* and that
Pompeii was buried under showers of ashes and stones.
The destruction of Stabiæ was not so complete, and it
appears to have been soon occupied again.
* According to Professor Phillips, there is no evidence to
prove that any lava-streams descended from the mountain in
the eruption of A.D. 79.
CHAPTER III
REIGN OF TERROR-DOMITIAN'S LAST DAYS-BANISH-
MENT OF THE PHILOSOPHERS.
DOMITIAN Succeeded his brother Titus in A.D. 81.
His reign of fifteen years is one of considerable interest,
and it is most unfortunate that the portion of the His-
tory of Tacitus which described it is lost to us. Its
early years were not without glory for the empire.
Agricola's campaigns in Britain ended in the complete
subjugation of the country to the Roman sway. The
formidable German tribes were at least cowed by an
expedition undertaken by the Emperor in person; and
though men secretly laughed at his assumption of the
surname Germanicus, it appears on the whole probable
that the northern frontiers of the empire were effectu-
ally strengthened. A perilous war, accompanied by some
terrible reverses to the Roman arms, was also waged
(A.D. 86-90) with the Dacians, a Thracian tribe on the
Lower Danube, whose settlements almost coincided with
Transylvania, and parts of Moldavia and Wallachia.
Rome, from the time of Augustus, had found them
troublesome and dangerous neighbours. On this occa-
26
PLINY'S LETTERS.
sion a Roman legion and its commander were destroyed
by them. In A.D. 90 they were pressed hard by an
able Roman general, and peace was at length con-
cluded, without, however, any extension of the frontier,
and on terms which were by no means honourable to
Rome. Trajan subsequently, after two successful cam-
paigns, annexed the country to the empire. Pliny, as
we shall see, speaks of this second Dacian war in one
of his letters as full of picturesque incidents. He is.
writing to one of his literary friends, who intended to
describe it in an epic poem.
There is, perhaps, hardly a more hateful name in
history than that of Domitian. Yet the first part of
his reign was not without promise. During this period
Pliny was assiduously practising at the bar, and rising
into fame as an advocate. He lived in the best liter-
ary society of Rome. After the conclusion of the
Dacian war in A.D. 90, the Emperor began to show in
his government the worst side of his character. He
had been a bad son and a bad brother; he seemed
now bent on making himself the most detestable of
rulers. There can be no doubt that there was a taint
of actual madness about both Caligula and Nero, which
must be taken into account in passing judgment on
them. Domitian was a man of considerable ability
and culture, and of perfectly sane mind, and in all his
cruelty and wickedness there was an intelligible pur-
pose. With the year A.D. 93, when Pliny would be
in his 32d year, a reign of terror began, which lasted
to A.D. 96, the date of Domitian's death. These three
years were perhaps the most dreadful period in Roman
A REIGN OF TERROR.
27.
history. In A.D. 93 the great Agricola died, and it
was the popular belief that he had been poisoned by
the Emperor. At any rate his death was the begin-
ning of a series of the most horrible judicial murders.
In the opening of his History, Tacitus speaks of these
years as a period in which "even peace was full of
horrors." "The sea,” he says,
(C was crowded with
exiles, and its rocks were polluted with bloody deeds.
In the capital were yet more dreadful cruelties. No-
bility, wealth, the refusal or the acceptance of office,
were grounds of accusation, and virtue insured destruc-
tion. The rewards of the informers were no less odious
than their crimes; for while some seized on consulships
and priestly offices as their share of the spoil, others on
procuratorships and posts of more confidential autho-
rity, they robbed and plundered in every direction amid
universal hatred and terror. Slaves were bribed tc
turn against their masters, and freedmen to betray their
patrons; and those who had no personal enemy were
destroyed by friends." In his Life of Agricola, he con-
trasts Nero with Domitian, to the advantage of the for-
mer. "Nero," he says, "ordered cruelties to be commit-
ted, but did not himself witness them. Under Domitian,
what crowned our misery was to see the tyrant, and
to be seen by him, and to have our very sighs noted
down against us as evidences of guilt." In that terri-
ble year, A.D. 93, Pliny was prætor, an office which
involved a seat in the senate. “I was,” he says,
in his panegyric of Trajan, "promoted to office by
Domitian before he openly professed a hatred of all
good men ; when he had done so, I sought no further
28
PLINY'S LETTERS.
advancement." Senators were proscribed, and, as we
have seen had been done before by Vespasian, the phi-
losophers were banished from Rome, "in order that,"
as Tacitus says, in his introduction to the Life of
Agricola, "nothing noble and virtuous might anywhere
confront men's view." Pliny had many friends among
the philosophers, and their society was altogether to
his taste. He tells us in one of his letters, that at the
time when the edict was issued which drove them into
exile, he was himself staying in the house of one of
their number, close to Rome. This intimacy with mem-
bers of a proscribed class seems to have been an occa-
sion of danger to him during this dreadful time. "I
was," he says, in the letter above referred to, "so to
speak, scorched by the thunderbolts which fell around
me, and which struck down so many of my friends;
and I augured from certain indications the same ruin
for myself." He explains his meaning in another
letter. "I should," he says, "have been the victim of
an impeachment, had Domitian lived longer. In his
portfolio was found a paper containing an information
against me by Carus." Carus Metius was one of the
class technically known as "delatores.” Of these we
shall hear more presently. The "delator" was a man
who lived, and often rose to wealth and fame, as an
informer and false accuser. As we should suppose,
his trade was one likely to be fostered and encouraged
by imperialism, and was sure to flourish under a bad
emperor. He had prospered under Nero. He became
yet more prosperous and formidable under Domitian,
and was often a man of intellectual power, and had
DEATH OF DOMITIAN.
29
access to even the best society. Without such a
weapon the emperor's jealousy and malice would have
been almost powerless to do harm. Domitian used it
more systematically and mercilessly than any of his
predecessors. The result is described by Tacitus in
one of the opening chapters of his Life of Agricola.
"As a former age," he says, "witnessed the extreme
of freedom, so has ours witnessed the extreme of
slavery, for we were robbed of the very privilege of
interchanging our thoughts. We should have lost
memory as well as speech, had it been as possible for
us to forget as it was to keep silence."*
The reign of terror ended in A.D. 96. As Juvenal
tells us, the tyrant who was red with the blood of the
noblest families of Rome fell by the assassin's hand
when he became an object of dread to the artisan. A
promising future now opened on Pliny.
Agricola, o. 45.
A
i
胄
​CHAPTER IV.
THE NEW AGE-VENGEANCE ON THE INFORMERS-
THE GREAT PROVINCIAL TRIALS.
THOUGH Pliny, as we have seen, had, like his illus-
trious friend Tacitus, continued to take some part in
public life even during the last and worst part of the
reign of terror, he must have felt profoundly the relief
when the sword of Stephanus rid the civilised world
of the most dangerous tyrant it had ever known. He
had been on an intimate footing with some of the
most illustrious of Domitian's victims, and his own
name, as we have seen, would probably have been
added to the list. The strongest motives, therefore,
combined to induce him to share in the movement,
which was naturally the first impulse of the liberated
states, to exact from the informers, who had been the
most odious and deadly instruments of the fallen
despot, the just penalty for their crimes. One of the
earliest acts of the new reign had been formally to
suppress the whole class, though the gentleness, or per-
haps it should rather be said, the weakness, of Nerva,
induced him to shield from punishment some of the
PETUS AND ARRIA,
31
worst offenders. The first few days of recovered lib-
erty were spent in hunting down inferior criminals whom
no one cared to defend. Pliny took no part in these
hasty proceedings, but reserved himself for a greater
effort. One of the most atrocious acts of Domitian's
reign had been the judicial murder of Priscus Hel-
vidius, with whom, as with many members of his
family, Pliny had been on terms of intimate friend
ship. It was indeed a family of martyrs to liberty,
whose story well deserves to be told. No matron in
the best days of Rome had been more illustrious for
resolute courage than the first Arria. Pliny tells a
pathetic story of the fortitude with which she bore
and concealed from her husband, whose precarious
health demanded the effort, the death of her son, a
boy of singular beauty and promise-how she brought
into the sick-chamber a face of unfailing cheerfulness,
and left, as he forcibly puts it, her bereavement out-
side the doors. This husband, Cæcina Pætus by
name, afterwards took part in an unsuccessful insur-
rection in Illyricum against the Emperor Claudius, and
was taken a prisoner to Rome. Arria, forbidden to
embark in the ship which carried him, followed in a
fishing-boat across a stormy and perilous sea. When
he was brought before Claudius, and found an adverse
witness in the wife of Scribonianus, the leader of the
movement, she broke forth in the scornful reproach,
“Shall I listen to you, you in whose lap Scribonianus
was killed, and who still endure to live?" Pætus, know-
ing that escape was hopeless, resolved to anticipate
his fate by suicide. In this noble resolation (for

32
PLINY'S LETTERS.
1
.
(6
such it seemed to a Roman moralist) his wife sustained
him, taking the dagger in her hands, and teaching
him fortitude by stabbing herself, while she uttered
the words which the epigram of Martial has made
immortal, PÆTE NON DOLET."* The constancy with
which, after her husband's death, she resolved to
put an end to her own life, seemed equally worthy
of praise: "I will find," she cried to the relatives
who sought to restrain her, some road to death,
however painful, if you thwart me in that which is
easy." The tradition of this courage was well pre-
served in the next generation by the second Arria,
daughter of the first, and by her husband Pætus Thrasea,
one of the most distinguished of the few men who ven-
tured to keep something of the old Roman freedom
under the tyranny of Nero. When that bad prince,
after the murder of his mother Agrippina, wrote a letter
to the senate, informing it that the deceased had con-
spired against him and had been justly punished,
Pætus, unable to bear the shame of condoning such
a crime, rose from his place, and left the house. In
the next year he contrived to baffle the vengeance of the
tyrant upon one whom he accused of having libelled
him; and he gave the final offence by refusing to
concur in the divine honours which were paid to
Poppaa, the Emperor's wife. The story of his last
hours is told in one of the most masterly passages, un-
happily imperfect in the existing copies, of the 'Annals'
of Tacitus. His wife, Arria, who had wished to follow
the example of her mother, was persuaded, for the
* "Pætus, it does not hurt."
PRISCUS HELVIDIUS.
33
sake of her daughter, to remain alive. This daughter,
Fannia by name, Thrasea had given to a man in whom
he had found a spirit singularly akin to his own,
Priscus Helvidius. The younger man shared to the
full his father-in-law's dangerous passion for liberty,
and was his companion at the feasts, at which he
quaffed, as Juvenal tells us, chaplet on head, his oldest
wine to the memories of great republican heroes-the
Brutus who had driven out the kings, his namesake
who had stabbed the dictator Cæsar, and Cassius.
When Thrasea was dead, Nero seems to have been
satisfied with the banishment of Helvidius. From
this exile he returned when, with the accession of
Galba, a better day seemed to dawn. His first act was
to attack the accuser of his father-in-law, Eprius Mar-
cellus—an attack which he repeated when Vespasian
came to the throne. He made enemies right and left
among the powerful class to which Marcellus belonged;
and his demeanour to the Emperor was so bold, we
may almost say so reckless, that these enemies were
not long in bringing about his ruin. He was banished
to one of the provincial towns of Italy, and an or-
der for his death-which was, however, recalled when
it was too late-soon followed him. Fannia, who
had accompanied him in his first and in his second
exile, returned to the capital, probably after the death
of Vespasian. In the evil days of Domitian she was
accused of having incited Senecio to write a pane-
gyric on her husband, and was banished for the third
time. By a former wife, whose name we do not
know, Helvidius had a son who bore the same name,
A. C. vol. xi.
0
34
PLINY'S LETTERS.
-
and who was among Pliny's most intimate friends.
He was a man of great ability, and he cherished the
principles which were dear to his father, but, warned
by his fate, he sought safety in avoiding public life.
The precaution was of no avail. The informers
found in a drama which had for its subject the loves
of Paris and Enone an attack on the private life of
Domitian. No more atrocious crime was committed
even in these terrible days. Not only was the man
absolutely blameless, but the circumstances that at-
tended his death were peculiarly revolting. A scene of
violence to which Tacitus, who must have been pre-
sent on the occasion, alludes, not without shame, dis-
graced the senate - house. Helvidius was actually
dragged off to prison by some of the senators, among
whom one Publicius Certus was conspicuous.
It was on Certus that Pliny resolved to avenge the
death of his friend, and, we may say, the wrongs of a
whole family. He was bowed down at the time by a
severe domestic affliction, having lost his wife so re-
cently, that etiquette did not permit him to leave the
house. He sent, however, for Anteia, the widow of
Helvidius, and bade her communicate his purpose to
the two distinguished ladies, Arria and Fannia, who,
next to the widow, were the nearest relatives of the
murdered man. They had just returned from exile,
and they immediately signified their approval. At
the next meeting of the senate, Pliny commenced the
attack. His first sentences were heard with applause,
but as his purpose unfolded itself, a vigorous opposition
sprang up. Why was he raking up these old troubles?
J
35
Whom was he accusing in this irregular fashion? Even
his friends sought to change his purpose, using especi-
ally the ominous threat that he was making himself a
marked man, whom future emperors would be sure to
distrust; and pointing to the powerful friends on whom
Certus relied to one especially who was then com-
manding a large army in the East, and who might, it
was thought, be not indisposed to play the part of
another Vespasian. When the opinion of the House
was called for, senator after senator, some of them
friends and connections of Pliny, expressed disapproval
of the proceeding. But two speakers supported him.
Avidius Quietus, who had been a close friend of Thrasea,
declared that the senate could not refuse to hear the
complaints of Arria and Fannia, and must regard not
the position but the conduct of the accused. Cornutus
Tertullus told the assembly that he had been appointed
guardian of the daughters of Helvidius, and pointed
out to it how moderate was the request of the com-
plainants, demanding as they did nothing more than
a public censure on the guilty man. Pliny, when it
came to his turn to reply, carried the senate with
him. Veiento, who indeed was deeply implicated in
the guilt of the informers, attempted to defend his
friend, but could barely make himself heard. The
presiding consul called for a division while he was
still attempting to speak, and he turned away mutter-
ing a line from Homer-
"Old man, those younger warriors press thee sure."
It is true that the Emperor, when the resolution of the
PROSECUTION OF CERTUS.
C
36
PLINY'S LETTERS.
senate was sent up to him, took no action upon it.
The champion of Certus was among his intimate friends,
and while Veiento was in favour, Certus could scarcely
be punished. It is satisfactory to know that there was
not wanting a Roman of the old type to tell the truth
even to an emperor.
"I wonder," said Nerva to his
guests at the dinner-table, when the conversation hap-
pened to turn on one of the informers, Catullus Messa-
linus—“I wonder what would have happened to him
were he alive now." Catullus, who was blind, had
distinguished himself even in these days by a cruelty
peculiarly revolting and pitiless. "He would be dining
with us,” said Junius Mauricus, one of the guests, with a
reference which could not be mistaken to Veiento, who
was reclining on the same couch with the Emperor. Cer-
tus, however, did not escape with entire impunity. The
consulship, to which he had been named, was bestowed
upon another man; and he was superseded in his own
office of Prefect of the Treasury. Nor did he long
survive his disgrace. Pliny published a report of all
the speeches delivered upon the occasion. Very soon
after the appearance of the book Certus died. Fliny
was told—and he hoped, for the sake of justice, that
the report was true-that the guilty man fancied that
he saw the image of his accuser, sword in hand, per-
petually threatening him.
Arria seems to have died not long after her return
from exile, and a letter* of Pliny's leaves it in doubt
whether her daughter Fannia did not soon follow her.
At least he mentions her severe and dangerous illness,
Epist. vii. 19.
*
FANNIA.
37
and deplores by anticipation the loss which it seemed
too likely the country was about to suffer. It is pleas
ing to learn incidentally from this, the last notice that
we have of her, that her high courage was not
inconsistent with a very tender and womanly nature.
Her illness was the result of the ceaseless care with
which she had watched by the sick-bed of a kins-
woman of her husband, one of the Vestal Virgins.
The Virgins, when attacked by illness, were sent
away from the temple, and committed to the care of
some matron of high character. Fannia had at first
voluntarily undertaken, and afterwards been regularly
intrusted by the Pontiff with, the care of her relative.
"What purity is in thee," cries Pliny, "what holiness,
what dignity, what courage! And, at the same time,
how pleasing she is, and how courteous! one who can
be loved-a rare excellence this-as kind as she is
respected.
I reverenced, I loved both mother
and daughter; I know not which I put first; they had
no thought of any difference. They had my services in
prosperity, they had them in adversity. I was able
to console them in their exile, and I sought them when
they came back. Still I never made them an equal
return; therefore I am the more desirous that the one
still left may be preserved to me, to give some more
opportunity of fulfilling my obligations. This is my
anxiety, as I write. If only some god will turn it into
joy, I shall not complain at having felt these fears."
With these wishes, of which we would gladly know the
issue, Fannia vanishes from our sight. It completes
the history of an unfortunate family when we learn
38
PLINY'S LETTERS.
that the two daughters of Helvidius died in child-
bed.
The early years of Trajan were signalised by the
punishment which overtook another class of offenders,
the rapacious governors of the provinces. One of the
most notorious of these was Marius Priscus,* to whose
name Juvenal has given an evil immortality in one of
his most pregnant lines, in which he ironically warns
his friend that he must not expect much plunder when
the provinces had already been squeezed to the utmost,
"when Marius has just stripped his slender Africans
to the skin." The Africa which Priscus had robbed was
a fertile province, including the northern shore of the
continent for a length of about 300 miles, now known
as Tunis and part of Algiers, and important to the
capital as supplying it with a great part of the wheat
which Italy could no longer produce. But Marius
had been something more than an ordinary robber.
He had received bribes-so at least his accusers alleged
-for bringing about the condemnation and death of
innocent men. One Vitellius Honoratus hangish
from him, for a sum of £2500 in our money, the
banishment of a Roman knight and the execution of
seven of his associates. Another man, Flavius Marti-
anus by name, had paid £6000 for a similar equiva-
lent. Here again the victim was a Roman knight.
He had been beaten with clubs, then condemned to
the mine, and finally strangled in prison. Marius,
anxious to avoid exposure, did not attempt to defend
himself against the charges of rapacity and extortion,
* See Epist. ii. 11, 12,
·
.
A STATE TRIAL AT ROME.
39
but, so far confessing his guilt, begged the senate to
appoint arbitrators who should estimate the amount to
be refunded. The province had employed as its coun-
sel the two friends, Pliny and Tacitus. They opposed
the request. The crimes of the accused had, they said,
been too atrocious to admit of such a settlement. The
senate decided that the arbitrators should be appointed,
but that the accusers should have liberty to substan-
tiate, if they could, the other charge. The accomplices
of Priscus were summoned to attend. Honoratus died`
before he could be brought before the senate, but
Martianus was produced. After one adjournment,
made for the purpose of bringing the two accused to-
gether, the cause was heard. It was the time-the
month of January-when the capital was especially
crowded, and the senators attended in unusual numbers.
The Emperor himself presided in his capacity of con-
sul. Pliny, though he had had much experience as
an advocate, felt nervous and anxious. Priscus had
been consul, and had belonged to one of the sacred
colleges; he had been already found guilty of extor-
tion, and it might seem to be pressing hard on a fallen
man to bring against him further charges. The speech,
however, was a great success. It lasted for nearly
five hours. The Emperor showed his personal interest
in the orator by more than once suggesting to the
freedman who stood behind him, that he should warn
his master against an over-exertion to which his some-
what feeble frame was not equal. Pliny was followed
by other advocates on both sides, and the senate was
twice adjourned. A great part of the third day was
40
PLINY'S LETTERS.
occupied by reading over the evidence. Then came
the voting. Two propositions had been made. One
was, that Marius should pay into the treasury the
money received from Martianus, and should be ban-
ished from Rome and Italy, while the exile of Mar-
tianus was to extend also to Africa. The other was
identical as far as the money was concerned, but
limited the banishment of Martianus to five years, and
proposed to subject the principal offender to no further
penalties than he had incurred under the charge of
extortion. The severer sentence was ultimately adopted.
It seems to us monstrously inadequate to the offence
of the guilty man; but such was the character of the
Roman law, so stern against the slave and the foreigner,
so strangely mild in its dealings with citizens, even
when it had to avenge a citizen's wrongs. Marius
certainly suffered little from his sentence. He found
some pleasant retreat out of Italy, where, as Juvenal
tells us, exile though he was, he lived at ease
* and
"basked in the wrath of heaven." Pliny, however,
seemed perfectly satisfied with the result of the trial,
though he complains of the action of the senate in one
which grew out of it, when the deputy of Marius had
to answer for his share in his principal's crimes. This
man, Hostilius Firminus by name, had managed the
disgraceful affair of Martianus, receiving a private
bribe of about £80-" perfume money " it had been
called; not an inappropriate name, says Pliny, for a
Literally, "he drank from two o'clock." To dine early
was the mark of wealth and luxury, as no business was trans-
acted after dinner.-Juv. Sat. i. 49.
A PROVINCIAL TYRANT.
41
notorious fop. A proposition that he should be de-
graded from the senate was rejected for the milder
alternative of passing over his name in allotting the
provincial governments. "What can be more absurd,"
asks Pliny," than that one whom the senate has cen-
sured should still sit in the senate? should have been
excluded from the proconsulship for bad behaviour
while he was deputy, and yet sit in judgment on pro-
consuls? should have been found guilty of peculation,
and yet have to condemn or acquit other men? Such
was the pleasure of the majority. Opinions, you know,
are numbered, not weighed: so it must always be in
a public assembly, where there is nothing so unequal
as equality." The sensible Roman saw clearly througl
the specious fallacy of "universal suffrage."
It would be tedious to relate at length the course of
another trial, or rather series of trials, of a similar kind,
in which Pliny was engaged about this time. During
the year in which Africa had been suffering under the
exactions of Priscus, Bætica, one of the divisions of
Further Spain, had found a worse tyrant in Cæcilius
Classicus.* Curiously enough, Priscus was a native of
Spain, Classicus of Africa; and the unlucky Spaniards
consoled themselves by a melancholy jest upon the
coincidence, we have got as good as we gave."
Classicus was an open and notorious offender. He had
had the impudence regularly to enter in his books how
much every disgraceful affair had brought him in.
This interesting volume had been seized, as also had
been a letter to his mistress at Rome. "Hurrah!" it
66
Epist. iii. 9.
42
PLINY'S LETTERS.
said, “Hurrah! I am coming to you a free man; I have
sold up half these fellows in the province, and have
cleared two-and-thirty thousand pounds." Classicus,
however, was beyond the reach of justice. He was
dead-it was more than suspected by his own hand.
But other criminals were left, and the province deter-
mined to press the charge against them. They were
tried, not before the senate, but before juries appointed
by that body, and in batches. The prosecution, for
which Pliny appeared, had no difficulty in proving
agency—the facts themselves were notorious. The de-
fence was, that the agency had been under compulsion.
Pliny was successful; and though the immediate rela-
tives of Classicus-his wife, daughter, and son-in-law
had been included in the indictment-were acquitted,
many of his accomplices were condemned, and visited
with punishment,-utterly inadequate, as it seems to
us, but yet considered at the time sufficiently severe.
An incident of the trial deserves mention, for its bear-
ing on the subject of the earlier part of the chapter.
One of the witnesses turned upon Norbanus Licinianus,
an official whom the province had employed to assist
in the case against his late superior, and accused him
of what we should call "compounding a felony," by
entering into a corrupt understanding with the wife of
Classicus. The wrath of the senate blazed up in a
moment. The man had plied the trade of an informer
in the days of Domitian. Old charges, not relevant,
as far as can be seen, to the matter in hand, were
brought against him-among them, one that he had cor-
rupted one of the jurymen on a former trial. Licini-
43
anus was visited with a severer sentence than any that
we hear of elsewhere. He was banished to an island.
There must have been some solid stuff in the man, if,
as Pliny tells us without knowing whether to call such
conduct courage or impudence, he continued to perform
his part in the great cause of which his own trial had
been an interlude, without fiuchin, to the end.
NORBANUS LICINIANUS.
*
■
CHAPTER V.
THE ROMAN BAR-PLINY'S PRACTICE IN THE COURT
OF THE HUNDRED-REGULUS.
PLINY, as we have said, gained early distinction by
practice as an advocate. The bar had long been an
honourable profession at Rome, and the way to wealth
and high office. In theory, the Roman counsel gave
his services gratuitously, his remuneration consisted
in presents from his clients, which, however, in pro-
cess of time, came to be commuted into regular fees.
A law was passed in 204 B.C., forbidding such fees
to be received, and it was confirmed during the reign
of Augustus by a decree of the senate. Under the
reigns of his successors it seems to have been syste-
matically evaded, and occasional attempts to revive
it proved failures. The law, in fact, must have be-
come a dead letter; and all that was done to check
the supposed evils of hired advocacy was to limit the
amount which a counsel might receive. This, as we
have it from Tacitus and from Pliny, was fixed at
about £80, and it was understood to be illegal for an
advocate to receive this fee till he had actually rendered
his services. It seems, however, hardly likely that such
45
a regulation could have been strictly enforced. The
lawyers, we may be sure, were too useful and influential
a class to be tied down by any such artificial arrange-
ment. Tacitus mentions an instance of a fee of some-
thing like £3500 having been once paid by a Roman
knight. Senators of moderate fortune had always been
in the habit of increasing their means by practice at the
bar; and though, from time to time, they might grossly
abuse their opportunities by shameless rapacity, it was
on the whole felt to be expedient to put as little legal
restraint on them as possible. Pliny very clearly
implies in one of his letters that it must be left to
public opinion to adjust the relations between adỳo-
cates and their clients.
PRACTICE AT THE ROMAN BAR.
It was, as we have seen, at the end of Vespasian's
reign that Pliny entered on the profession of the bar,
and it would seem that he continued it during the
reigns of Titus and Domitian. He was well off, but
by no means so rich as many men of his time; and
he, no doubt, found in the pursuit of the law the
surest road to wealth and official rank. The court in
which he began to practise, and with which indeed he
seems chiefly to have been connected, was distinguished
as the Court of the Hundred. Its precise functions are
not clearly known to us; it is, however, certain that
it had to decide a great number of important civil
matters, and that various questions concerning owner-
ship and the devolution of property were brought
before it. Pliny frequently alludes to it, and in the
following letter describes some peculiar and amusing
practices to which young aspirants to legal fame were
!
.
46
PLINY'S LETTERS.
not ashamed to stoop. The letter is addressed to his
friend Maximus : *
"Your conjecture is correct; I am at present quite
overworked with cases in the Hundred Court, which
give me more occupation than pleasure. Most of
them are paltry and insignificant, for we seldom get a
case in which a distinguished person or an important
matter is involved. Besides, only a few of the coun-
sel are men with whom it is any satisfaction to hold a
brief; the rest are an impudent set, and many of them
are unknown young men, who come into the court to
make a speech by way of practice; and they do it with
so little respect for their profession, and so recklessly,
that I think my friend Atilius has very correctly said,
that boys make a beginning at the bar with cases in
the Hundred Court, just as they begin their school
studies with Homer. At the bar, as at school, the
most important study is the first entered on. Before
my time, so my seniors tell me, even the noblest
youths could find no place in court unless they were
introduced by a man of consular rank; so great was
the respect with which the most honourable of all
professions was regarded. Now all the barriers of
modesty and reverence are broken down, and instead
of being introduced, they thrust themselves into the
court. They have an audience like themselves, reg-
ularly hired for the occasion; a speculator contracts
to supply them; presents are passed to them quite
openly in the court, and they go for the same hire from
court to court. Yesterday two young slaves of mine
* Epist. ii. 14.
•
THE ROMAN BAR.
47
were dragged off to applaud somebody, at half-a-crown
apiece. Such is the price of the highest eloquence.
For this you may fill a number of benches, collect a
crowd, and have a burst of cheering as soon as ever
the leader of the chorus has given his signal. Those
who don't understand, and who are not even listening,
must have a signal given them. Most of them pay no
attention, and these very persons cheer the most loudly.
If you ever have occasion to go through the colonnade
in which the court is held, and wish to know how the
different speakers acquit themselves, you need not go
on to the raised platform where the judges sit-you
need not listen to the speeches; it is easy enough to
give a right guess, for you may be sure that the man
who is most loudly cheered is the worst speaker.
Largius Licinus was the first to introduce this fashion,
but he only went round to people, and begged them to
come to the court and hear the speeches. This, at
any rate, is what I remember to have been told by my
tutor, Quintilian. I used,' he said, 'to attend on the
famous pleader Domitius Afer, and to go with him into
court. Once, when he was speaking in his usual slow
and impressive manner before the Hundred, he heard
close to him a great and strange noise. He paused in
astonishment. As soon as it ceased, he resumed the
thread of his argument, when the noise was repeated.
He again paused, and, when silence was restored, for
the third time continued his speech. At last he
asked, who was speaking? The reply was, Licinus.
Upon this he broke off the case, and addressing the
judges, said, "My profession, gentlemen, is at an end."
48
PLINY'S LETTERS.
Indeed, for many other reasons, the profession of the
bar was on its way to ruin at the time when Afer
thought it was wholly ruined. Now, it is certain that
it is all over with it. I am ashamed to tell you of
the mincing and affected pronunciation of the speakers,
and of the shrill - voiced applause with which their
speeches are received. All that is wanted to complete
the performance is the clapping of hands, and the
noise of drums and cymbals; even the wildest shout-
ing (for there is no other phrase to describe a style
of cheering which would be unseemly in a theatre) is,
a frequent accompaniment. For myself, a regard for
the benefit of my friends, and my comparative youth,
still keep me to my professional work; for I am afraid
that people would think that I had given up a labori-
ous occupation rather than simply avoided such dis-
graceful scenes. However, I go into court less fre-
quently than was my wont, and this is a beginning of
gradual retirement from practice."
Pliny's practice in this court had brought him into
contact with one of the worst and most notorious speci-
mens of the informer class. This was Regulus, who
is the subject of frequent allusions in these letters.
He had laid the foundations of a successful career in
Nero's reign, and had continued to struggle out of ob-
scure poverty into immense wealth and high social
position. Under Vespasian and Titus he must have
been obliged to content himself with simply living on
his ill-gotten gains; but the last years of Domitian
raised him to the very highest pinnacle of prosperity.
He became a prince among millionaires, and a terror
49
to all good men. It is painful to find such a man
the object of the grossest flatteries from the poet Mar-
レ
​tial, and it shows how a man of real genius could
become morally debased under the sinister influences
of that bad time. To the infamous trade of a false
accuser Regulus added the practice of the arts of the for-
tune-hunter, which he plied with the most shameless
assiduity. Pliny's stories about him illustrate a curi-
ous phase of Roman life. The following letters (of
which we give the substance) show us the manner of
man that he was, and may be supposed to indicate the
general character of his class.
THE INFORMER REGULUS.
PLINY TO VOCONIUS ROMANUS.
"Did you ever see a man more cowed, more down
in the mouth, than Regulus since Domitian's death?
His crimes under Domitian were quite as bad as those
under Nero, but they were less easy of detection. He
began to fear I was angry with him, and so indeed I
was. He had done his best to imperil Rusticus Aru-
lenus; he openly rejoiced at his death, and even
published a book in which he abused him, and called
him 'an ape of Stoic philosophers.' He made such
a savage attack on Herennius Senecio that Metius
Carus said to him, 'What have you to do with my
victims ? Did I ever attack Crassus or Camerinus?'
These were men whom Regulus had accused and ruined
in Nero's reign. He thought I was indignant at all
this; and so, when he gave a reading to a select circle
out of the book he had published, he did not invite me.
Epist. i. 5.
a. c. vol. xi.
*
D
50
PLINY'S LETTERS.
$1
He remembered, too, what a savage attack he had
once made on me in the Court of the Hundred. I
was counsel for Arrionilla, a case which I had under-
taken at the request of Arulenus. I had Regulus
against me. In one part of the case I laid much stress
on an opinion given by Modestus, an excellent man,
who was then by Domitian's order in banishment.
Up jumps Regulus, and says to me, 'Pray, what view
do you take of the character of Modestus?' It would,
you see, have been very dangerous to me to have
replied, I think well of him;' it would have been
an infamous thing to have said the contrary. Well, I
really believe that Providence helped me out of the
scrape. 'I will answer your question,' I replied, "if
this is the matter on which the court is about to
pronounce judgment.' He could say nothing. I was
praised and congratulated for having avoided com-
promising my credit by a safe but discreditable answer,
and for having escaped the snare of such an invidious
question. He was thoroughly frightened, and rushes
up to Cæcilius Celer and Fabius Justus, and begs them
to reconcile us. This was not enough for him; he
goes off to Spurinna, and, with that cringing manner
which he always has when he is frightened, he says to
him, 'Pray, go and call on Pliny the very first thing
in the morning (be sure you do this, for I can't endure
my anxiety any longer), and do your best to prevail
on him not to be angry with me.' I had risen early;
there comes a message from Spurinna to this effect,
'I am coming to see you.' I sent back word, 'I am
myself coming to you.' Well, we meet on the way in
S
51
Livia's portico; Spurinna explains the wishes of Regu
lus, and adds his own entreaties, as you would expect
from a very good man on behalf of one wholly unlike
himself. I replied to him, 'You will yourself clearly
perceive what message you think had best be sent
back to Regulus; you ought not to be misled by mc.
I am waiting the return of Mauricus (he had not yet
come back from exile); I can't give you an answer
either way, because I mean to do whatever he decides
on, for he ought to be my leader in this matter, and I
ought to be simply his follower.' A few days after-
wards, Regulus met me at one of the prætor's levees;
he kept close to me, and begged me to give him a
private interview. He then told me he was afraid
that a remark he had once made in the Court of the
Hundred still rankled in my mind. The remark, he
said, was made when he was replying as counsel to
myself and to Satrius Rufus, and was this—' Satrius
Rufus, who does not attempt to rival Cicero, and who
is content with the eloquence of our own day.' My
answer to him was-'I see now that you meant it ill-
naturedly, because you admit it yourself; but your
remark might have been taken as intended to be
complimentary. I do try to rival Cicero, and I am
not content with the eloquence of our own day. It is,
I think, the height of folly not to propose to one's self
the best pattern for imitation. But how comes it that
you remember this circumstance so distinctly, and
have forgotten the occasion in court when you asked
me what was my opinion of the loyalty of Modestus?'
Pale as he always looks, he then turned as pale as
THE INFORMER REGULUS.
•
52
PLINY'S LETTERS.
6
death, and stammered out that he asked the question, not
to hurt me, but to hurt Modestus. Note the fellow's
vindictive cruelty; he actually confessed to himself
that he wished to do an injury to one in exile. He
added an admirable reason for his conduct. Modes-
tus,' he said, 'in a letter written by him which was
read out before Domitian, used the following expression
-Regulus, of all two-footed creatures the wickedest.'
And Modestus was perfectly right. This ended our
conversation. I did not wish to go further in the
matter, or to tie my hands in any way, till Mauricus
had returned. I am very well aware that Regulus is
a formidable person. He is rich, influential, courted
by many, feared by many, and to be feared often does
more for a man than to be loved."
レ
​The following letter, written after the death of
Regulus, describes some of the eccentric devices by
which he endeavoured to render his pleading in court
more effective.
PLINY TO ARRIANUS.*
"Sometimes I miss Regulus in our courts. I cannot
say I deplore his loss. My reason for missing him is,
that he really respected his profession, that he bestowed
infinite labour on it, made himself pale with study
and anxiety, wrote out his speeches, though he could
not get them by heart. He had a queer practice of
painting round his right eye if he was counsel for the
plaintiff, his left if he was for the defendant; of wear-
ing a white patch on his forehead; of asking the
* Epist. vi. 1.
•
DECLINE OF THE BAR.
53
Soothsayers what the issue of the action would be, and
so forth. Yet all this eccentricity was really due to
his extreme earnestness in his profession. There was
another thing which was very acceptable to the counsel
who were engaged with him. He asked for unlimited
time in speaking, and he got together an audience.
What could be pleasanter than to be able to speak as
long as you liked before a full court, when the odium
of the whole arrangement rested with another? Still,
at any rate, Regulus has done well in ridding the
world of his presence; and he would have done better
had he done it sooner. As things are now, he really
might have lived without hurt to the state under an
emperor in whose time he could not possibly do
mischief. And so one may very properly feel that
one sometimes misses him. Since his death it has
become an established practice for the court to give,
and for the counsel to ask, a limited time for the
pleadings. For both those who plead wish to have
done with it rather than to go on speaking, and the
judges who hear the case are anxious to decide it
rather than to continue sitting on the bench. Such
neglect, such apathy-in a word, such utter indifference
as to our professional duties-has come over us. Are
we wiser than our ancestors, or is our practice more
just and reasonable than the law itself, which liberally
grants ever so many hours, and days, and adjourn-
ments? Are we to consider them dull and beyond
measure tedious, and to fancy that we speak more
clearly, understand more readily, decide matters with
more scrupulous care, because we get through cases in
54
PLINY'S LETTERS.
fewer hours than they took days? O Regulus! it
was by zeal in your profession that you secured an
advantage which is but rarely given to the highest
integrity. For my own part, whenever I have to hear
a case (and this I do oftener than I plead), I give
the greatest amount of time which any counsel asks.
It is, I think, rash to try to conjecture to what length at
cause yet to be tried is likely to run, and to set a limit
to an affair the extent of which is unknown to you.
The very first duty which a judge owes to his position
is to have that patience which constitutes an important.
part of justice. Even superfluous matter had better
be brought forward than any really necessary point
be omitted. Besides, it is impossible to say whether
it is superfluous till you have heard it."

The following letter shows up Regulus in his char-
acter of a fortune-hunter :——
PLINY TO CALVISIUS.*
“I have a first-rate story for you, or rather two
stories—for the one, which is quite fresh, reminded me
of the other. It makes no difference with which I
begin. Verania, Piso's wife (I mean the Piso adopted
by the Emperor Galba), was seriously ill. Regulus
pays her a visit. Think of the man's brazen impu-
dence in calling on her in her illness, when he had
been her husband's bitterest enemy, and was utterly
hated by the lady herself! It would have been bad
enough if he had confined himself to a mere call. He
Epist. ii. 20.
•
55
actually sat down by her bedside, and asked her the
day and the hour of her birth. When she had told
him, he looks very grave, fixes his eyes on her, moves
his lips, makes passes with his fingers, and goes through
a calculation. After keeping the unhappy woman for
a long while in suspense, he says, 'You are at a perilous
crisis of your life, but you will recover. To convince
you of this, I will consult an augur whose art I have
often tested.' Without a moment's delay, he had a
sacrifice offered up, and he declares that the victim's
entrails present signs exactly agreeing with what may be
inferred from the stars. The lady, whose danger made
her credulous, asks, for some writing-paper, and puts
down in her will a legacy for Regulus. Very soon she
becomes worse; and, as she is dying, she calls the man
a rogue, a treacherous and worse than perjured villain,
because he had actually sworn falsely to her by his
son's life. It is a practice of Regulus, as wicked as it
is frequent, to call down the wrath of heaven, which he
so often invokes to witness a lie, on the head of his
unhappy son.
A ROMAN FORTUNE-HUNTER.
"Velleius Blæsus-the wealthy man, I mean, who
rose to the consulship-was in his last illness, and
wished to alter his will. Regulus, who hoped to get
something out of the alteration, because he had of late
paid court to himn, begged and implored the physicians
to lengthen his life by all possible means. When the
will had been signed and sealed, he changed his char-
acter and reversed his tone, and said to these same
physicians, 'How long do you mean to keep the un-
happy man in misery; why do you grudge one to
56
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
whom you cannot give life, the happy release of death?'
Blæsus dies, and as if he had heard everything, leaves
Regulus not a farthing. Are two stories enough for
you, or would you like to have a third, after the man-
ner of school exercises? Well, I have got one
for you.
/Aurelia, an extremely elegant lady, when about to set
the seal to her will, had put on a remarkably hand-
some dress. Regulus came to witness the signature,
and on his arrival he said to the lady, 'Pray, leave me
by your will the dress you have on.' Aurelia thought
the man was joking. Regulus pressed the matter in
earnest, and, to cut my story short, he actually made
the lady open her desk, and add a clause to her will,
leaving him the dress. All the time she was writing
it, he kept his eye on her, and looked to see whether
she had really written it. The man gets bequests and
legacies just as if he deserved them. Why do I dwell
on such matters, when we are living in a country in
which wickedness and roguery have long been able to
command as great, nay, greater rewards than virtue and
honour Look at Regulus; from abject poverty he
has made his way, by all sorts of rascality, to such
prodigious wealth that he himself told me that when
he asked an augur how soon he should be able to
amass a fortune of half a million, he found that twice
that amount was promised him by the signs exhibited
by the victim's entrails. And he will get it, if he only
pursues his present course of making persons, when
they prepare their wills, add to them clauses which
they never intended to insert.”
It would appear, from the two following letters

regulus mourning for hIS SON.
57
which describe his strange demeanour on the death
of his son, that Regulus had all the extravagant
affectation which is sometimes found in the nouveaux
riches.
PLINY TO ATTIUS CLEMENS.*
"Regulus has lost his son; the only misfortune he
did not deserve, and I am not sure whether he thinks
it a misfortune. The boy had quick parts, but one
could not be at all sure how he would turn out; still,
he seemed to have a capacity for virtue, were he not
to grow up like his father. Regulus gave him the legal
release from parental control, so that the lad might
become heir to his mother's property, and having done
this (I speak of the current rumours, based on the
man's character), he fawned on the lad with a disgust-
ing show of fond affection, which in a parent was
utterly out of place. Incredible, you will say, but
only consider the man. At any rate he deplores his
death in a most insane fashion. The boy had a num-
ber of ponies for riding and driving, of big and little
dogs, and a host of pet nightingales, parrots, and
blackbirds. All these Regulus had slaughtered on
the funeral pile. It was not grief, but an ostentations
parade of grief. A crowd of visitors throng to his
house. All hate and detest the man, and as if they
loved and esteemed him, they hurry to his doors and
hang round them, and, to tell you in a word what
I really think, in seeking to do Regulus a kindness
they make themselves exactly like him.
He keeps
* Epist. iv. 2.
یا
58
PLINY'S LETTERS,
·
•
.
angle
himself in his park on the other side the Tiber, where
he has built huge colonnades over a vast extent of
ground, and set up a number of his own statues on the
river-side; for with all his intense avarice he is extra-
vagant, and in the midst of his infany he loves fame.
At this very unhealthy time of year he is boring
society, and he feels pleasure and consolation in being
a bore.
He says he wishes to marry-a piece of per-
versity, like all his other conduct. You will soon hear
of the marriage of one who is in mourning, the mar-
riage of an old man. In the first case, it is too soon,
in the second, too late. You ask me the grounds of
my conjecture; it is not because he says it himself, for
he is as false as false can be; it is only because one
may be sure that Regulus will do whatever is highly
improper."
PLINY TO CATIUS LEPIDUS.
"I often tell you that Regulus has a certain force of
character. It is wonderful to see how he gets through
a thing to which he has applied himself. He made up
his mind to mourn the death of his son; he is abse-
lutely unequalled as a wownel. It was his fancy to
get together an immense number of statues and pictures
of his son; so he sends orders to all the sculptors and
painters, and has the boy represented on canvas, in
wax, bronze, silver, gold, ivory, marble, &c. &c. He
himself actually invited to his house a numerous
audience to hear him read his son's memoir-the
Epist. iv. 7.
*
THE ENERGY OF Regulus.
59
he even
memoir of a mere boy. However, he read it;
had a thousand copies made of it, and distributed
throughout Italy and the provinces. He had a public
notice put up, that the town-councils were to choose
out of their number the man with the best voice, to
read the book to the people. It was really done. Only
suppose he had used this force of character, or what-
ever you call this earnestness, in trying to get what one
wants, for better ends, and what good would he have
been able to accomplish! There is, however, less of
this quality about the good than the bad, and as (to
quote Thucydides) 'folly genders confidence, while
thoughtfulness produces hesitation,' so modesty often
cripples the action of virtue, as effrontery strengthens
vice. Regulus is an example. He has weak lungs, a
confused look, a stammering tongue, a slow and dull
imagination, no memory-nothing in short but a sort
of frantic energy; and yet by his impudence and mad
vehemence he has won the reputation of an orator.
Cato has a famous definition of an orator, which Her-
ennius Senecio has curiously reversed about Regulus,
thus: 'An orator is a bad man who has no skill in
speaking.' Cato certainly has not more correctly
described the true orator than Senecio has hit off
Regulus."
We now take leave of Regulus. The tone of this
last letter looks as if Pliny's dislike of the man led
him to speak more contemptuously of him than facts
could have warranted him in doing. If Regulus
60
PLINY'S LETTERS.
laboured under so many natural disadvantages, his
success in his profession must have implied a force of
character of a remarkably high order. He and many
of his class were no doubt morally as bad as it was
possible to be, but they were by no means intellec-
tually contemptible.
!
CHAPTER VI.
MEN OF LETTERS AT ROME.
{3
CIRCUMSTANCES combined to produce at Rome in the
days of the Empire a very considerable amount of
literary activity. For more than two centuries the
wealth of the whole civilised world had been pouring
into the capital. This influx had promoted the growth
of two things, which to the men of the old régime-to
such Conservatives, for instance, as Cato-seemed equal-
ly odious, luxury and culture. The first impulse of the
monied class-a class whose riches equalled, if they
did not surpass, even the largest fortunes of modern
tiles-was to surround itself with the means of mate-
rial enjoyment and display. But it was not long before
more refined tastes began to be developed. Among
the spoils of the world with which a long series of
conquests had crowded the palaces of Rome, were to
be found the treasures of Hellenic civilisation-manu-
scripts, pictures, and statues, the contents of the libra
ries and museums which the Greek, almost invariably
a scholar as well as a soldier, had founded so plenti-
fully in Eastern Europe and Western Asia. With
62
PLINY'S LETTERS.
these had come, in throngs which excited the wrath
and scorn of satirists like Juvenal, the teachers of
literature and art. From the decaying and impoverished
cities of the East they crowded to the place where a
nation of wealthy pupils was waiting to welcome and
to remunerate their services. At the same time, the
class which was thus so abundantly furnished with all
the appliances of culture, was profoundly affected in
its habits of life by the revolution which substituted an
empire for a republic. One great resource in which men
of wealth find occupation, which to our own monied
class, for instance, is so fascinating-the devotion to
public affairs-ceased to be available at Rome. Men
were still selected, indeed, from the highest nobility
to fill the offices of proconsul and prætor in the pro-
vinces; and at Rome the old magistracies of the republic
and the senate still remained, though they had but
the shadow of their former dignity. But politics had
ceased to furnish a profession.Tacitus complains of the
men of his time, that they were as ignorant about their
country as if it were not their own. Under such emper-
ors as Nero, men of average character, who on the one
hand would not stoop to the vile art of the sycophant
and the informer, and, on the other, did not choose to
venture their lives in impossible attempts at reform,
clung to the safe retirement of private life, while a
vigorous ruler like Trajan kept all power in his own
hands, and left nothing for his subjects to do. At the
same time, the bar had greatly degenerated from that
which Hortensius and Cicero had adorned. It was
no longer the avenue to power, though it was still the
SILIUS ITALICUS.
.63
road to office, and might be made the means of ac-
cumulating riches. When we consider these circum-
stances, it does not surprise us to find that literature
furnished occupation not only to a numerous class of
professional writers, but to many men of rank and wealth.
Among these must be ranked C. SILIUS ITALICUS.
He was by many years Pliny's senior, having been
born A.D. 25. He followed with success the profes
sion of an advocate, and had been a member of the
Hundred Court. Unfortunately for his character, he
became a prominent person in the state when it was
passing through its most evil day. A sinister rumour
which our author mentions, and evidently does not
disbelieve, had attributed to him a share in the infamous
practices and gains of the informers. In reward, pos-
sibly, for these services, he was raised in the last year
of Nero's reign to the consulship. The "Lists of the
consuls" record that he, with his colleagues, abdicated
office, and that the Emperor, then in his last parox-
ysm of suspicion, succeeded to the vacancy "without
colleague." In the terrible year that followed, "the
year, of the three emperors," and while enjoying the
dangerous honour of an intimate friendship with Vitel-
lius, he behaved with wisdom and courtesy. When
that Emperor, pressed hard by the troops of Vespasian,
sought to secure his safety by resigning his throne,
and held for this purpose an interview with the elder
brother of his successful rival, Silius was one of the
two witnesses who were present. The government of
the province of Asia, a province which may be roughly
described as comprising the western half of the penin-
64
PLINY'S LETTERS,´
sula of Asia Minor, followed in due course. It was one
of the chief commands in the empire, and Silius exer-
cised it with great distinction and credit. After this
he took no active part in political life, though he was
still a prominent personage at Rome-" prominent,"
says Pliny, “but exercising no power and exciting no
hostility." In this position his conduct was so blame-
less, that the errors of his earlier life were willingly
forgotten. No house in the capital was more thronged,
or by more sincere admirers. At some time in the
short reign of Nerva, warned by his increasing infirmities,
he retired from the capital, which, as Pliny mentions
with admiring surprise, he did not even revisit to pay
his respects to a new emperor, when Nerva was suc-
ceeded by Trajan. He was in his seventy-fifth year
when the pain of some incurable disease, probably a
cancer, made him resolve to put an end to his life.
Abstaining from food was then the fashionable method
of suicide, and the old man resolutely starved himself
to death. The name of Silius is known to students
of Latin literature by the accident which has preserved
his tedious poem on the Punic war. Of the poetical
merits of that work little need be said. The author
was wholly without genius-an imitator, not surpass-
ingly skilful, of Virgil. And he offends at least modern
taste by the mythological machinery which he intro-
duces into the narrative of historical events. What-
ever interest attaches to his verses belongs to the anti-
quarian or geographical information which they convey.
As a poet, he seems indeed to have been little esteemed
by his contemporaries. Pliny disposes of him with a
TACITUS.
65
very brief criticism.
"He used to write verses with
more diligence than force." He has more to say of him
as a connoisseur and collector. These tastes were de-
-veloped in him till they grew to a positive frenzy for
buying. "He became the possessor of several country
houses in the same localities, was passionately fond of
the last acquisition, and left the others to neglect. All
of them were crowded with books, with statues, with
busts. These last he not only kept about him, he
absolutely worshipped." Among thein was one which
connected together his literary and his artistic tastes.
It was the likeness of Virgil, and he held it in especial
reverence. He was accustomed to keep the birthday
of his master with more solemnity than he kept his
own, and to visit the tomb where the great poet lay on
the shore of the Bay of Naples with such respect as
worshippers pay to a temple.
•
Much nearer to Pliny, and bound to him by the ties of
intimate friendship, was C. CORNELIUS TACITUS. When,
after his uncle's death, Pliny came, still a mere youth,
to Rome, and began to practise in the law courts, he
found Tacitus at the head of his profession. A splen-
did alliance (he had married the daughter of the great
soldier Agricola) had assured his position, and he
seemed likely to rise to the highest eminence in the
state. Some reason unknown-it may have been a
command in the provinces, it may have been the now
precarious position of his father-in-law-took him for
several years from the capital, to which he returned
only to become an unwilling witness of the horrors of
the last years of Domitian. In the early days of the
A. C. vol. xi.
E
•
L
66
PLINY'S LETTERS.
better time that followed he took an active part in
public affairs. We have seen him associated with
Pliny in one of the great provincial trials. In A.D.
100 we find him appointed consul to supply the va-
cancy caused by the death of Verginius Rufus. The
funeral oration over the old man, the Wellington of
his day, who almost seemed to rise above the throne
which he had once refused, was pronounced by his
successor. "It was the crown of his good fortune,"
cried the enthusiastic friend of the orator, “that he
found in Cornelius Tacitus the most eloquent of pane-
gyrists." With his consulate, however, his public life
seems to have closed. Affairs of state must always
be unattractive to men of genius under an absolute
ruler, whether he be an enlightened prince like Trajan,
or a suspicious tyrant like Domitian. How wholly
Tacitus had withdrawn himself from them is evident,
when we find him recommending to the good offices
of Pliny a certain Naso, who was a candidate for one
of the magistracies, wholly ignorant of the fact that it
was under the auspices of Pliny that Naso had origi-
nally started.
Tacitus had probably made his first essay in liter-
ature if the 'Dialogue about Famous Orators' be
really his at a time when Pliny was still a boy.
His 'Life of Agricola' was published in the reign of
Nerva, his Treatise on Germany' shortly after the
accession of Trajan. Meanwhile he was living on
terms of close friendship with Pliny. The two con-
stantly interchanged works for mutual criticism. On
the side of Pliny these seem to have been, for the
TACITUS.
67
most part, revisions of speeches which he had delivered.
Among the works which Tacitus submitted to the
judgment of his friend may have been the Treatise
on Germany.' About the others we cannot even form
a conjecture. He was busy, however, with prepara-
tions for a greater work, his History, which had for
its subject the period beginning with the accession of
Galba and ending with the death of Domitian. We
have seen how, in his search for materials, he applied
to Pliny for such information as be could give about.
the great eruption of Vesuvius. In another letter we
find his friend volunteering particulars of an incident
out of which he believed himself to have come with
considerable credit, and begging that it might find a
place in the forthcoming work. The intimacy that
grew up out of this community of literary interests
became very close, and the Letters repeatedly express
the joy and pride which it gave to the younger and
less distinguished of the two friends. In one place
he remarks with pleasure how frequently both were
named in the wills of friends and acquaintances for
legacies of the same amount. In another he relates
to a correspondent, with great glee, a story which he
had heard from Tacitus himself. The historian, it
seems, was sitting with a stranger, looking on at the
games in the circus. After much learned talk his
new acquaintance asked him, "Are you of Italy or
from the provinces ?" "You know me," replied the
historian, "and that from your reading." "Then," re-
joined the other, "you must be either Tacitus or Pliny."
To a third man of letters, M. VALERIUS MARTIALIS,
"
1
68
PLINY'S LETTERS.
Pliny stood in the relation of a patron rather than &
friend. Martial was a native of Bilbilis in Spain,
who had come towards the end of the reign of Nero
to seek his fortune in Rome. He soon attracted
the notice of the Emperor Titus; and Domitian, who
had at least one redeeming quality in a genuine love
of letters, even admitted him to his intimacy—a favour
which he repaid by flattery so gross as not to admit of
any defence. It is possible that one whose adulation
of the tyrant stood on record against him, did not feel
himself at ease under the new régime. Anyhow, he
left Rome early in Trajan's reign to return to his
native country. There about four years afterwards he
died, and Pliny records his decease in a letter,* a part
of which it will be worth while to quote: "I hear
that Valerius Martialis is dead, and I am sorry for it.
He was a clever man, of a pointed wit, and of much
spirit. In his writing there was plenty of flavour,
plenty of bitterness, and not less of straightforward
honesty. I presented him, when he was leaving
Rome, with some money for his travelling expenses.
So much was due to our friendship, so much to the
verses he wrote about me. It was an old custom to
Epist. iii. 23.
+ In these verses (Epig. x. 19) Martial addresses his Muse, and
bids her carry his book to Pliny at his house on the Esquiline
Hill. (The Esquiline had become the fashionable quarter of
Kome since Mæcenas had built his great mansion there.) The
latter part of the Epigram, which Pliny quotes in his letter,
may be roughly Englished as follows:-
"Only take care, my tipsy Muse,
That a fit and proper time you choose
.
65
compliment with distinction or money those who had
written the praise either of persons or of states. With-
in our days it has, like other good and honourable
practices, grown obsolete, and sooner perhaps than
any. When we cease to do what deserves praise
we soon begin to think that praise is a silly thing."
The transaction-such a praise paid for in money→
bears a curious resemblance to what was a recognised
practice among ourselves, till, happily both for the
purse and for the honour of our men of letters, the
public superseded the patron.
Of the merits of Silius Italicus, of Tacitus, and of
Martial, we are able to form a judgment for ourselves.
Of the other literary contemporaries of whom Pliny
speaks, nothing has been preserved, nor are their names
even mentioned elsewhere. PASSENNUS PAULLUS, of
whom we shall have an anecdote to relate hereafter,
was a fellow-townsman and descendant of Propertius,
and had inherited a talent for writing elegiac verse.
He also appears to have done what Roman poets
seldom did, to have imitated Horace. Another friend,
MARTIA L.
To knock at my Pliny's eloquent gates.
To the stern Minerva he devotes
All his days, and elaborates
What may win the Hundred Judges' votes,―
Speeches which this and the coming age
May venture to match with Tully's page.
When may you safely go?-when the light
Of the lamps is burning late, and the night
Grows wild with the wine-cup, and the rose
Is'Queen of the feast, and the perfume flows
From dripping locks. In that hour of thine
Stern Catos may read this book of mine."
1
70
PLINY'S LETTERS.
CANINIUS RUFUS, Pliny encourages in his design of
celebrating in verse Trajan's campaigns in Dacia.
"What subject," he says, "could you find so fresh, so
full of matter, so wide-in a word, so poetical, and,
though it deals with the most absolute truth, so ro-
mantic ? New rivers made to flow, new bridges
thrown over rivers, mountain precipices occupied with
camps, a king driven from his palace, driven even
from life, yet never despairing-these are the things
of which you will sing." But there would be a vast
difficulty, he tells his friend, in raising even his
genius to the height of so vast an undertaking; and
another, not to be despised, in the task of getting the
barbarous names of Dacian chiefs and towns to suit
the measure of his verse, which was, apparently, the
Greek hexameter. There was the name of the king,
for instance, Diurpaneus. All that could be said was,
that he must take Homeric licence, and Homer was
accustomed to alter much more tractable words.
VERGILIUS ROMANUS, a clever writer of burlesques and
of comedies, which Pliny, a kindly, or perhaps it should
be said, even a flattering critic, thought equal to those
of Plautus and Terence, was another member of the same
literary circle. In his praise of Pompeius Saturninus,
an advocate like himself, our author is still more enthu-
siastic. He was great as a writer; hear or read his
speeches, you liked them equally well. History he
wrote with the same eloquence, only in a more concise
and compressed style. And verses he could write like
Calvus or Catullus, even to the skilful insertion of a
certain archaic roughness. His last work had been a
C. FANNIUS.
7.1
volume of letters.
It was true that he declared them
to be written by his wife. In any case the whole credit
of them was his; for, says Pliny, his wife, whom he
had taken unmarried from her father's house, must
have received from him any learning or culture that
she had—a significant remark, and perfectly consistent
with what we learn from other sources, as showing
that whatever education a Roman woman could boast
was for the most part acquired not in the home but in
the world. Another lawyer of literary tastes, whose
premature death Pliny laments, was C. FANNIUS. He
had snatched some time from the toils of his profession
to write the 'Lives of the Victims of Nero.' Nine
books only had been written; a singular dream had
warned him that he would not be permitted to add
any more.
He had dreamt that he was lying on his
bed with his writing-desk before him, that Nero entered
the chamber, sat down upon the couch, opened the first
volume (this had been already published), and read it
to the end, did the same with the second and the
third, and then departed. Fannius, in his terror,
believed that he should write no more than the dead
tyrant had read, and the dream possibly did some-
thing to accomplish itself.
We must now make distinct mention of a group of
accomplished foreigners, whom Pliny seems to have
regarded with the same respect and affection that he
showed to his Roman friends.
EUPHRATES was a Stoic philosopher, of Greck race,
born (for the accounts vary) in Egypt or Syria. It was
in the latter country that Pliny, then a young soldier,
72
PLINY'S LETTERS.
had made his acquaintance, and had been admitted to
his intimacy. The two met again in Rome, whither
the philosopher had removed, probably attracted by
the liberal patronage which the capital extended to
learning. His tall stature, his handsome countenance,
his long hair, and huge white beard, and an appearance
wholly free from that affectation of squalor in which
some of his brethren delighted, attracted favour before
he spoke, and his speech was singularly winning. He
discourses, says Pliny, with subtlety, with dignity,
with elegance; frequently he even gives to his lan-
guage all the fulness and richness of Plato. His
style is copious and varied, and remarkably winning,
so as to move and carry on with it even reluctant
hearers. The philosopher's position was strengthened
by his marriage with one of the most distinguished of
the Roman families settled in his native province.
Pliny mentions with praise the special care with
which he educated his children, and seems indeed
to have regarded him generally with the utmost affec-
tion and respect. "Why," he cries, "should I say
more of a man whose company I cannot enjoy! Only,
surely, to vex myself the more because I cannot. I
am occupied by the duties of my office, a most im-
portant and a most troublesome one. I sit in front of
the tribunal; I countersign documents; I settle ac-
counts; I write a vast amount of the most illiterate
literature." This "illiterate literature" reminds us of
Charles Lamb's allusion to the volumes which he had
left behind him in the India House. Euphrates
consoled his friend in a very sensible fashion.
"It was
73
a part," he said, "nay, the most honourable part, of
philosophy, this discharge of public affairs, this hear-
ing and deciding of causes, this discovering and prac-
tising of justice, this actual using of what they, the
philosophers, taught." Euphrates is mentioned by
others of his contemporaries. Both Arrian, a pupil of
Epictetus, and author of the 'Expedition of Alexander,'
and the Emperor Aurelius Antoninus, speak in high
praise of his eloquence. Philostratus gives an account of
him in his 'Lives of the Sophists,' where he accuses him
of servility. He is said to have reached an advanced
age, and to have begged and obtained permission from
the Emperor Hadrian to put an end to his life.
EUPHRATES—ARTEMIDORUS.
ARTEMIDORUS was another Greek philosopher with
whom Pliny made acquaintance when he was serving
in Syria. He seems to have followed his friend to
Rome. Certainly he was in the capital when, in a.d.
93, Domitian banished the philosophers. Pliny was
one of the prætors for the year, and, though the reign
of terror had begun, though the storm had fallen with
especial violence on his circle of friends, and was
threatening himself, he stood manfully by his friend,
even venturing to visit him at the house which he occu-
pied in the suburbs. At the same time he rendered
him substantial service by the present of a large sum
of money. The philosopher had made himself liable
for a debt of considerable amount; and Pliny, who
had, he tells us, himself to borrow the money, fur-
nished him with the means of discharging it. When
the accession of Nerva brought happier times, Artemi-
dorus returned to Rome, and Pliny renewed his ac-
M
74
PLINY'S LETTERS.
quaintance with him. "Of all who call themselves
philosophers, you will scarcely," he says, "find more
than one or two so single-hearted and so true. I put
aside his marvellous endurance both of cold and of heat,
his industry, which no labours can tire, his indifference
to all the pleasures of eating and drinking, the control
which he exercises over his eyes and his thoughts.
These are great things, or might be in another man. In
him these are but of very little weight, compared with
those other virtues which made C. Musonius choose
him for his son-in-law out of suitors of all ranks."
Artemidorus, like Euphrates, had married into a
Roman family. His father-in-law, Musonius Rufus,
was an enthusiastic adherent of the Stoic philosophy—
so enthusiastic, indeed, that he nearly met his end by
delivering an unseasonable lecture on his favourite
tenets to the combatants, when the troops of Vespasian,
under the command of Antonius Pronus, were forcing
their way into Rome against the desperate resistance.
of the adherents of Vitellius. It perfectly suits his
character that he should have bestowed his daughter
on a man whom many would probably have despised
as a penniless scholar.
A third distinguished Greek, ISÆUS, seems to have
been a visitor rather than a resident at Rome.
"More
fluent than Isæus" is Juvenal's description of the ready
speech which he mentions among the qualities of the
Greek adventurers who were thronging to the capital.
He seems to have been something of an improvisatore,
and Pliny gives a very admiring account* of his per
* Epist. ii. 3.
1
75
formances.
"I had heard a wonderful report of
Isæus before his coming; but it was not equal to the
reality. He possesses the utmost readiness, copious-
ness, and abundance of language; speaks always ex-
tempore, yet always as if he had written his speech
long before. His style is genuinely Greek-I may say,
Attic. His introductions are terse, elegant, attractive,
sometimes weighty in matter, and loftily conceived.
He suggests several themes, and permits his audience.
to choose, doing this often without preparation. He
rises, arranges his cloak, and begins. At once he has
everything almost equally ready at hand. Meanings
that you never saw are suggested to you, and words-
what words they are!-exquisitely chosen and polished.
The wideness of his reading, his great practice in
writing, are clearly shown in these unprepared displays.
His preface is to the point, his narrative is lucid, his
attack spirited, his summing up forcible, his rhetorical
ornament noble. In a word, he teaches, delights, and
affects you; and you cannot decide which of the three
he does best. His reflections are frequent; frequent,
too, his syllogisms, as well as condensed and carefully
finished-no small merit to attain even in a written
style. His memory is beyond belief; he repeats from
far back what he has spoken extempore, and does not
miss a single word. Such is the habit of excellence
to which he has reached by study and practice, for
night and day he does nothing, hears nothing, says
nothing else. He has passed his sixtieth year, and is
still a scholar, and nothing more. Than this class of
men, indeed, I know nothing more single-hearted, more
ISEUS.
76
PLINY'S LETTERS.
genuine, or more excellent. For we who have to go
through the rough work of the forum and of real dis-
putes contract something, however unwilling we may
be, of evil cleverness. The school, the lecture-room, the
imaginary case, the whole affair, in short, is innocent and
harmless, and quite as full of enjoyment, especially to
the old. For my part I think Isæus not only the most
eloquent but the happiest of men; and you," he adds
to his correspondent, "unless you are anxious to make
his acquaintance, must be made of stone or iron."
In this literary and learned society Pliny found, it
is evident, a very keen and genuine enjoyment. We
must perhaps take with a certain reservation his
lamentations over the distraction of business, public
and private, which kept him from the learned leisure
in which he delighted. He was fond, it is evident, of
the distinction which was given by office; he rejoiced
in the triumphs which he won, and which he does not
fail to describe to his correspondents, in the courts
of law. Nevertheless he really loved literature. He
combined indeed, with no little success, the character
of a man of letters, a patron, and a critic. Of his
authorship we speak elsewhere. His patronage was
shown, as we have seen, in substantial help to authors.
Such help was, of course, but a small matter to a man
of wealth so large. There was more of real value in
the genuine sympathy which he felt with their produc-
tions-a sympathy the want of which has often made
offensive the liberality of the most munificent patron.
He was always ready with advice and encouragement,
and made it a special duty to be present at the public
PLINY AS PATRON AND CRITIC.
77
readings, to be described in the next chapter. This
help was of a kind which no mere man of wealtl.
could give. Pliny's countenance and approval, as
a man of wide culture and genuine taste, must
have been highly valued. His criticism, indeed,
we can hardly help thinking, as we read the high
compliments which he pays to the authors whom he
mentions, must have been of a very kindly character.
Yet in the cases where we are able to compare his
liter opinion of contemporary writers-the true
test, it is almost needless to say, of critical sagacity—
with the verdict of succeeding time, we find him to
have been right. He dismisses with a very few words
of modified praise the tedious heroics of Silius Italicus,
while he recognises the wit and brilliance which have
given Martial the first place among epigrammatists,
and fully appreciated in Tacitus the solid qualities of the
greatest of Roman historians. And in more than one of
his letters, where he deals with general literary topics,
the soundness of his judgment is evident. Nothing, for
instance, could be more judicious than the literary ad-
vice which he gives in the following letter:* "You
ask me what I think should be your method of study
in the retirement which you have been now for some
time enjoying. As useful as anything, as it is fie-
quently recommended, is the practice of translating
either your Greek into Latin, or your Latin into Greek.
By practising this you acquire propriety and dignity of
expression, an abundant choice of the beauties of style,
power in description, and in the imitation of the best
* Epist. vii. 9.
78
PLINY'S LETTERS.
models a facility of creating such models for yourself.
Besides, what may escape you when you read, cannot
cscape you when you translate. From this follows a
quick appreciation of beauty and sound taste. There
is no reason why you should not write about the sub-
jects which you have been already reading, keeping to
the same matter and line of argument, as if you were a
rival; should then compare it with what you have read,
and carefully consider whether the author has been the
happier of the two, and wherefore. You may congratu-
late yourself much if sometimes you have done better,
but should be much ashamed if he is always superior.
Sometimes you may select even very famous passages,
and compete with what you select. The competition
is daring enough, but, as it is private, cannot be called
impudent. Sometimes you can go over a speech again,
when it has passed from your memory, retaining much,
omitting more, inserting some things, and rewriting
others. This is, I know, a laborious and tedious task,
but its very difficulties make it useful; so hard is it
to work one's self up again into the old heat, to recover
the energy which has once suffered break or interrup
tion, and, worse than all, to put new limbs into a body
already complete without disturbing the old.
Sometimes you should take a subject from history, and
you might give more care to the composition of your
letters. In speaking, you will often find a necessity
for passages of description in the style of history-nay,
even in that of poetry. From letters you acquire a
simple and terse style. You will do quite right again
in refreshing yourself with poetry; I do not say with
1
THE PLEASURES OF LITERATURE.
79
any long and continuous work, but with something
neat and short-a most appropriate variety in occupa-
tion and business of whatever kind.
Perhaps I
have given you more than you wanted. Yet I have
left out one point. I have not told you what I think
you should read; though, indeed, I did tell you
when I told you what you should write. Remember
to be careful in your choice of authors of every kind,
They say that one ought to read much, but not many
books."
•
There is sound sense in all this; and in the follow
ing letter, with which this chapter may be concluded,
we have a genuine expression of feeling :-
I find my joy and my solace in literature. There
is no gladness that this cannot increase, no sorrow that
it cannot lessen. Troubled as I am by the ill-health of
my wife, by the dangerous condition-sometimes, alas !
by the death of my friends, I fly to my studies as the
one alleviation of my fears. They do me this service—
they make me understand my troubles better, and bear —
them more patiently. It is my custom, whatever I
purpose to publish, previously to try by the judgment
of my friends, of whom you stand among the first.
Pray give your best attention to the book which you
will receive with this letter, for I fear that I, in my
sorrow, have scarcely given mine to it. I could so
far command my grief as to write; not so far as to
write with an unoccupied and cheerful mind. Cer-
tainly there is a pleasure in these pursuits, but they
themselves prosper best when the heart is light."
* Epist. viii. 19.
;
CHAPTER VII.
PUBLIC
READINGS.
WE shall be much mistaken if we form our ideas of
the supply of books in Rome from what we know of
the scarcity and costliness of this article in the age
that intervened between the fall of the Empire and the
invention of printing, or perhaps it should rather be
said, the revival of learning. In medieval Europe, and
more particularly among the Northern nations, manu-
scripts were among the rarest of the possessions of the
wealthy. The sale of them was negotiated with as
much solemnity as was the sale of an estate; the most
solid security was exacted when they were lent. A
score of them constituted a library such as individuals
or even corporations were proud to possess. But in
this, as in other matters, European civilisation had
greatly retrograded from what it was during the first
centuries of the Christian era. In the days of Pliny,
at least, as we know from the express testimony of a
contemporary,* copies of popular books were produced
* Martial tells a friend that a book which he had lately pub-
lished ("a slender book," he calls it; it might be printed in
81
in great numbers, and at a very cheap rate. But while
this proves both that there existed a considerable class
of readers, and that the mechanical means of satisfying
their demand were to be found in much completeness,
it is easy enough to see that there was nothing like
the thoroughly-organised system of communication
between the writer and the public that has been
created in modern times. It is not to be forgotten-
though this, of course, is not the chief thing to be
considered that the manuscript was less attractive,
less handy, and, in short, less readable, than the
printed book. An ordinary Roman could, of course,
poruse with ease what it now takes a practised scholar
to decipher; but it is impossible not to believe that
something was wanting to the pleasure of the reader
when there was no distinction in the size of letters, no
separation between words, and none of the perpetual
help of punctuation. More important, however, was
the question of publishing.
This now is a process sufficiently simple and easy.
There is a large class of men whose business it is to
introduce an author to his readers. The competi-
tion between them is so keen that probably no book
of merit, a few exceptional cases allowed for, fails to
obtain an introduction to the world. Such facilities,
if they were not altogether wanting to the literary men
PUBLIC READINGS.
about thirty-two pages of the volume which the reader has in
his hands) could be purchased for four sesterces (about equivalent
to tenpence in our money); and that if this price seemed too high,
a cheaper copy might be procured for half that price, "and
yet," he adds, "the bookseller will get a profit.”
A. C. vol. xi.
F
82
PLINY'S LEITERS.
(6
""
of Rome, were certainly not so fully developed. There
were, indeed, booksellers both there and in the chief
provincial cities. The poet Horace has preserved the
name of a firm" Sosii Brothers," as we should put it
-who were the most eminent of their class in his time;
and one of the passages in which he speaks of them
may possibly be understood as meaning that they were
accustomed to purchase works from authors as pub-
lishers now purchase a copyright. "Such a book,"
he says, speaking of one which possesses certain ex-
cellences, "earns money from the Sosii,"-a phrase,
however, which might be used if these Sosii were
merely booksellers, and paid over to the author the
money which they had received. Booksellers
(bibliopola) they are certainly called; and though they
may have sometimes acted the part of publishers, and
probably did so in arranging for the copying of books,
and the ornamentation of the copies, it is quite clear
that an intending author did not find matters made so
simple and easy as, by the organisation of the trade in
books, they now are. To put the matter shortly, there
was no market in which the value of his wares might
be readily appraised. The want of this compelled
him to appeal directly to the public which he wished.
to address. He had to learn from the opinion of a
larger circle than that of his immediate friends, whether
his book was worth publishing a process which, we
must remember, was difficult and costly; and, in the
event of a favourable judgment, he wished to make
the intended publication known as widely as possible.
To gain these objects, he would "recite " or read his
.
PUBLIC READINGS.
83
compositions in public.
We do not hear of the prac-
tice in the days of the Republic, when men were, we
may suppose, too busy for such things; but both
Horace and Ovid speak of it, and the allusions become
more frequent when we come to the time of Pliny
and his contemporaries. The method of proceeding
may be described in a few words. The first care was to
provide some place capable of holding a large audience.
Sometimes, in the case, we may suppose, of writers
who had already acquired a reputation, the temple of
Apollo, the public library of Rome, was obtained for
the purpose. Sometimes a convenient room had to be
hired. But an author, if his own house did not con-
tain the necessary accommodation, was generally able
to find a wealthy friend or patron who would supply
what was wanted. Pliny mentions with praise one of
his friends, Titinius Capito, as always ready to lend
his house for this purpose. "If you want to recite,"
cries Juvenal, "Maculonus will lend you his house, will
range
his freedmen on the furthest benches, and will
put in the proper places his strong-lunged friends;
but he will not give what it costs to hire the benches,
and to set up the galleries, and to fill the stage with
chairs." The author's next care, we thus learn, after
finding his room, was to fit it with seats for his
audience; the chairs, we may presume, being meant,
like those which fill the platform at our own public
meetings, for distinguished personages or private
friends, while the benches accommodated the general
public. For himself, the reader provided a high chair
and desk; sometimes he sought to commend himself
84
PLINY'S LETTERS.
I
to his listeners by adorning his person with unusual
splendour. It is not uncommon among ourselves to
see a lecturer, a reader, or even a preacher, seeking to
attract his hearers by the brilliancy of a diamond ring,
or setting himself off to the best advantage by carefully-
combed hair and a new coat; but we are taken at once
into a totally different sphere of manners when we read
that the citer would sometimes put a gay-coloured
hood on his head, bandages on his ears, and a woollen
comforter round his neck. It still remained to secure
an audience. The author, if he was a man of wealth
and position, might reckon with certainty on a consid-
erable number of hearers, of whose presence, and even
of whose applause, he might be sure. The freedmen,
whose obligation to their patrons was, notwithstanding
their manumission, of no slight kind, and the whole
crowd of clients, some of them men whom we are sur-
prised to find in a position seemingly so humiliating,
who were accustomed to pay him their court, and to
receive from his hands the dole which acknowledged
their service, would be sure to attend, and would
scarcely fail to be unanimous in their judgment of
the performance. If he was indebted to a patron for
a room, the loan would include, as we have seen, the
use of the accustomed body of claqueurs. A city like
Rome would be sure to furnish a number of listeners,
some of them, of course, mere idlers, who were willing
to kill the time by listening to a poem, a play, or
a history, if there was no chariot-race or show of
gladiators to be seen; some doubtless in the case of
a man of note, many-who were attracted by a genuine
85
interest in literature. Around the reader was the
array of his personal friends, whose attendance, indeed,
on these occasions was one of the chief, and some-
times, it may be believed, one of the most laborious
duties which society demanded from men of good posi-
tion at Rome. "I must beg you to excuse me this
particular day," writes Pliny to a friend. "Titinius
Capito means to give a reading, and I cannot say
whether I am more bound or more desirous to hear
him.
He lends his house to readers; and,
whether the reading be at his own home or elsewhere,
he shows a remarkable kindness in making himself
one of the audience me certainly he has never failed,
whenever he has happened to be in town." We
have here a hint of what indeed must on reflection
be sufficiently obvious, that the demand made by
these readings on the time of a busy man, or a man
of many friends, and made in many cases by writers
of very moderate talent, was felt to be exceedingly
onerous. Horace complains of the "troublesome
reader," from whom learned and unlearned alike fled in
terror, and who bored to death the luckless listeners
who could not escape from him; and Juvenal, in his
first Satire, apologetically introduces himself to the
public by declaring that he could not always be a lis-
tener, "wearied as he had so often been by the 'The-
seid' of the hoarse Codrus ;"-the epithet "hoarse "
suggesting with significant force the length of the poem
which the audience had to endure. We must remem-
ber, indeed, that a man of education at Rome had not
his literary appetite satiated with the abundance of
PUBLIC READINGS.
[
86
PLINY'S LETTERS.
I
reading which constitutes one of the most serious bur-
dens of modern life. Books, if not positively scarce,
did not crowd upon him in overwhelming numbers;
and the "light troops" of literature-magazines and
pamphlets and newspapers-were altogether unknown.
Still we cannot entirely withhold our sympathy from
the offender of whose conduct Pliny complains in an
amusing letter to his friend Senecio. "This year," he
says, "has brought us a great crop of poets. During
the whole month of April, there was scarcely a day on
which some one did not give a reading. I am de-
lighted to see that literature flourishes, that the powers
of our writers have the opportunity of displaying
themselves: yet audiences come but slowly to listen.
Many persons sit in the lounging-places, and waste in
gossip the time that they should spend in listening.
They even have news brought to them whether the
reader has entered, whether he has spoken his preface,
whether he has got through a considerable part of his
manuscript. Then at last they come, but come slowly
and reluctantly even then they do not stop, but go
away before the end; some, indeed, in secret and by
stealth, others with perfect openness and freedom.
Good heavens! our fathers can remember how the
Emperor Claudius, walking one day in the palace, and
hearing a great shouting, inquired the cause. They
told him that Nonianus was reading; whereupon he
entered the room, wholly unexpected by the reader.
Now, the idlest of men, after having been invited
long before to attend, and reminded over and over again
of the engagement, either do not come at all, or, if
PÚBLIC READINGS.
87
they come, complain of having 'lost a day !'-the fact
being that they have not lost it. I," continues Pliny,
"have failed scarcely a single reader. True, most of them
were my friends: and, indeed, there are scarcely any
who love literature who are not also ou friendly terms
with me. This is the reason why I have stayed longer
in town than I had intended to do. At last I am at
liberty to seek my country retirement, and to write
something-something which I shall not read; for I do
not wish to seem to have been obliging rather than
listening to my friends."
Sometimes it happened that one or other of the
unwilling auditors, whom a friendly compulsion had
brought to assist in proceedings which did not interest
him, would avenge himself by an unwelcome interrup-
tion. We have spoken of Passennus Paullus, a writer
of elegiac verses, modelled after the compositions of
his townsman and relative, Propertius. Passennus had
collected a number of friends to hear him read a new
volume; among them a lawyer, Javolenus Priscus by
name, with whom he was on very intimate terms. The
Joet began, "Priscus, you bid me;"—but was astounded
by a sudden interruption from his friend,-"I do not
bid you." We may illustrate this incident by suppos-
ing that Pope is reading in public his "Essay on Man,"
and has got as far as the opening words, "Come now,
my St John," when St John (Bolingbroke), who is
one of his audience, interrupts him with "Come,
indeed!-not I." "Javolenus," says Pliny, "is a
man of doubtful sanity, though he takes a share in
public business, is summoned to consultations, and
88
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
even gives opinions on civil law." The fact is, that he
was a very distinguished lawyer, some of whose legal
wisdom is still preserved in the Pandects of Justinian.
Possibly, in a fit of absence, while his mind was wan-
dering to scenes more congenial and familiar, he was
startled by hearing his name, and made the ludicrous
reply which Pliny has preserved. Or if Passennus
was one of the poets who had occupied with their
readings nearly every day in April, one of the
busiest months, it must be remembered, for lawyers,-
and Javolenus had been dragged from court to attend
them, his "I don't bid you" may have been the
expression of a pent-up annoyance, which no feelings
of friendship could restrain. However this may
be, we can very well imagine that, as Pliny says,
the interruption threw something of a damp on the
proceedings; and we can appreciate the wisdom of
his advice, that "those who mean to read in public
should not only be sane themselves, but also bring
sane friends to hear them." Pliny's own practice
in this matter he himself describes in a letter which
shows both good sense and good feeling. He had
been writing, it seems, some poems of a lighter kind.
"I chose," he continues, "for producing these, the
most seasonable time and place. To accustom them
in good time to be heard by listeners that are taking
their ease, and at the dinner-table, I collected my
friends in the month of July, when the law courts
have least to do, and put writing desks before their
chairs. It so happened that on the morning of the
day I was called away to an unexpected case in court.
* Epist. viii. 21.
PUBLIC READINGS.
89
This gave me opportunity for some words of preface.
I begged my friends not to think that it showed me
wanting in respect to what I had in hand if, when
meaning to read, though it was only to friends and to
a small audience (another word for friends), I did not
abstain from the business of the forum. I added, that
even in writing I followed this order-put my friend-
ship before my pleasures, my business before my amuse-
ments, and wrote firstly for my friends, secondly for
myself. My book contained a variety of compositions
and metres. 'Tis thus that I am accustomed, trusting
but little to my talent, to avoid the risk of being
wearisome. My reading lasted two days. The ap-
proval of my audience made this necessary; and yet,
while some readers pass over part of their volume, and
make a merit of passing it over, I pass over nothing,
and tell my hearers as much. I read everything, be-
cause I want to correct everything,-a thing which
those who read extracts only cannot do. The other
plan, you may say, is more modest, and possibly more
respectful. Well, but this is more honest and more
affectionate. Genuine affection is so confident of affec-
tion in return, as ret to be afraid of wearying a friend.
Besides, what benent do one's companions confer if
they assemble only for the sake of pleasing themselves?
It is very like indolence, when a man would sooner
hear his friend read a book already good, than help to
make it good. Doubtless, in your general affection for
me, you will want to read as soon as possible this book,
which is still fermenting.' You shall read it, but
after it has passed through my hands again This was
my reason for reading it aloud."
C
:
CHAPTER VII
COMUM, PLINY'S BIRTHPLACE—HIS LIVELY INTEREST
IN ITS WELFARE.
།
COмUм, as has been said, was in all probability the
birthplace of both the elder and the younger Pliny.
There is much of direct and indirect evidence to con-
nect them with the place. Tradition is distinctly in
favour of it. The numerous allusions which are made
to it in the letters, and the fact that our friend had
several little villas on the margin of the Lake of Como,
seem to point to the same conclusion.
Comum was in that northern part of Italy which
was known to the Romans as Cisalpine Gaul. It was
at the extremity of one of the two southern branches
of the Lake of Como, about 28 miles to the north of
Milan. It passed out of the hands of the Gauls into
the possession of the Romans in B.C. 196, when a great
victory, won by the famous Marcellus, the conqueror
of Syracuse, over the united strength of the Gauls,
carried the Roman territory as far as the foot of the
Alps, and made Como and Milan Roman towns. Julius
Casar added five thousand new colonists to the pop-
•
•.
COMUM AND ITS LAKE.
91
ulation of the place, and from that time it became one
of the most prosperous towns of the north of Italy.
It had several natural advantages. Its beautiful and
attractive situation at the foot of the Alps, and on the
shores of a lovely lake, was greatly in its favour it
also lay very conveniently in the way of a much-fre-
quented route across the Rhætian Alps. The elder
Pliny speaks of its iron-foundries as being the most
famous in Italy. Thus it happily combined the vari-
ous elements which make up the prosperity of a pro-
vincial town.
،،
Pliny often in his letters alludes to the picturesque
Lake of Como, and seems to have taken peculiar
delight in its scenery. He calls it once or twice
our Larius," the name by which Virgil mentions it.
One may fairly infer that he would hardly have
spoken of it in this manner, had not he and his
family been long and closely connected with the neigh-
bourhood. Many a rich Roman had his villa on its
banks, which, as they rose in a somewhat steep ascent
from the water, were clothed with olive-woods, vine-
yards, and chestnut-groves. The lower slopes pre-
sented to the eye an abundance of rural wealth, and
the quiet beauty which is always its accompaniment ;
above, at no great distance, were all the wildness and
grandeur of mountain scenery.
There are some pleasing touches in the following
letter, written, as it would appear, to a fellow-towns-
man of Pliny, who is encouraged to use so delight-
ful a retreat as Comum as a stimulus to literary
work:
92
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
.
PLINY TO CANINIUS RUFUS.*
"How is our dear darling Comum looking? Tell
me about that lovely villa, about the colonnade where
it is always spring, about the shady plane-tree walk,
about the green and flowery banks of that little stream,
and of the charming lake below, which serves at once
the purpose of use and beauty. What have you to
tell me about the carriage-drive, as firm as it is soft,
and, the sunny bath-room, and your dining-rooms, both
for a large and a select circle of friends, and your
various chambers of rest and repose by day or night?
Do these delightful attractions share you by turns, or
are you, as usual, called away from them by the pres-
sure of important business engagements connected with
your property? If all these delights have you to
themselves, you are indeed most fortunate; if not, you
are like most other people. Why not leave (for it is
high time) these wretched degrading cares to others,
and give yourself up in the deep repose of such a snug
retreat to reading and study? Make these your busi-
ness and your recreation, your labour and your rest,
the subjects of your waking and even of your sleeping
thoughts. Work at something and produce some-
thing which will be yours for ever. All your other
possessions will pass from one master to another; this
alone, when once yours, will be yours for ever. I
know the temper and the genius which I am seeking
to stimulate. Only strive to think yourself what the
Epist. i. 3.
*
+
!
HIS INTEREST IN COMUM,
world will think you, if you do yourself justice.--
Farewell."
The lively interest which Pliny took in his native
place is pleasantly attested by the following letter :--
93
PLINY TO ANNIUS SEVERUS.*
L
"Out of a legacy that was left me I have just
bought a statue of Corinthian bronze. It is small, but
thoroughly clever and done to the life—at least, in my
judgment, which, in matters of this sort, and perhaps
of every sort, is not worth much. However, I really
do see the merits of this statue. It is a nude figure,
and its faults, if it has any, are as clearly observable
as its beauties. It represents an old man standing up.
The bones, the muscles, the veins, and the very
wrinkles, all look like life. The hair is thin, the fore,
head broad, the face shrunken, the throat lank, the
arms hang down feebly, the chest is fallen in, and the
belly sunk. Looked at from behind, the figure is just
as expressive of old age. The bronze, to judge from
its colour, has the marks of great antiquity. In short,
it is in all respects a work which would strike the eye
of a connoisseur, and which cannot fail to charm an
ordinary observer. This induced me, novice as I am
in such matters, to buy it. However, I bought it not
to put in my own house (for I have never had there a
Corinthian bronze), but with the intention of placing
it in some conspicuous situation in the place of my
birth, perhaps in the temple of Jupiter, which has the
best claim to it. It is a gift well worthy of a temple
Epist. iii. 6.
*
94
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
:
and of a god. Do you, with that kind attention
which you always give to my requests, undertake this
matter, and order a pedestal to be made for it out of
any marble you please, and let my name, and, if you
think fit, my various titles, be engraven upon it. I
will send you the statue by the first person who will
not object to the trouble; or, what I am sure you will
like better, I will bring it myself, for I intend, if I
can get away from business, to take a run into your
parts. I see joy in your looks when I promise to
come; but your joy will soon go when I tell you that
my visit will be only for a few days, for the work
which keeps me here will prevent my making a longer
stay.-Farewell.”.
The two following letters will show that Pliny's
anxiety for the welfare of his native town took a much.
higher range than that of a simply graceful act of
liberality. He did his best to make provision for the
enlightenment of the inhabitants, by presenting them
with a library and helping them to establish a school.
It appears that on the first occasion be made a speech
to the burgesses of Comum, in which he no doubt
dwelt on the pleasure and advantages of intellectual
culture; and in the following letter he explains the
motives which prompted him to this particular act of
munificence. He mentions in it an interesting cir-
cumstance, which has about it a singula:ly modern
character. In the spirit of the benevolent patron, he
has established a fund for the maintenance and educa-
tion of the children of distressed gentlefolks :-

HIS INTEREST IN COMUM.
CL
95
PLINY TO POMPEIUS SATURNINUS.*
Nothing could have been more seasonable than
the letter in which you begged me to send you some
of my literary efforts, as at the time I had intended to
do so.
You have, in fact, put spurs into the willing
horse, and saved yourself the excuse of refusing the
trouble, and me the awkwardness of asking the favour.
Without any hesitation, then, I avail myself of your
offer, and you must now take the consequences of it
without reluctance. But don't expect anything new
from such a lazy man as myself. I am going to ask
you to revise once more the speech I made to my fel-
low-townsmen when I dedicated the public library to
their use. I remember that you have already given me
a few general criticisms, but I now beg of you not only
to take a general view of the whole speech, but to criti-
cise it in detail. When you have done this, I shall
still be at liberty to publish or to keep it back. And
perhaps my doubtfulness in the matter will be deter-
mined one way or the other as the process of correction
goes on; for careful revision will either show it to be
not worth publishing, or will make it fit to be pub-
lished. Yet my chief difficulty in deciding arises not
so much from the character of the composition as from
its subject-matter. The style may be ever so plain and
unpretentious, yet it is embarrassing to modesty to have
to speak not only of my ancestors' munificence, but also
of my own. It is a dangerous and slippery situation,
though necessity draws one into it. People do not
Epist. i. 7.
.
96
PLINY'S LETTERS.
I
listen very patiently to the praise which we bestow on
others; how difficult, then, must it be to get a favour-
able hearing when we have to talk about ourselves or
our ancestors! Virtue by itself is apt to be disliked-
especially so, when glory and distinction attend it;
and the world is never so little likely to misrepresent
or to carp at good actions, as when they pass unobserved
and without applause. Hence I have often asked my-
self, Is this composition, whatever its merits, due to
my own vanity or to regard for others? I see that
many things which may be quite proper and necessary
at a particular time, lose all their usefulness and grace
when the occasion is past. In the case before us, what
could have been more useful than to explain at length
the grounds and motives of my liberality? First, it
engaged my mind in good and ennobling thoughts; it
made me take a lengthened survey of the nobleness of
such thoughts; then, it effectually guarded me from
that repentance which is sure to follow on an impulsive
act of generosity. All this trained me to the habit of
despising mere wealth. I find that all men naturally
like to keep what they have got; for myself, a love of
liberality has been the result of long and matured
reflection, and has set me free from that slavery to
avarice which is so common in the world. My bounty,
I thought, would be the more praiseworthy, as it would
be recognised as the result of deliberate purpose and
not of sudden impulse. Add to all this, that what I
engaged to do was not to exhibit games or a gladiatorial
show, but to establish an annual fund for the mainten-
ance and education of poor people of respectable family.
HIS INTEREST IN COMUM.
97
Pleasures which merely appeal to the eye and the car,
so far from wanting a speech to recommend them, often
need to be discouraged by eloquent argument; whereas,
if you can induce a man to undertake the tiresome work
of education, you must attract him not only by pay,
but also by the most seductive allurements of a per-
suasive rhetoric. If physicians find that they must
coax their patients into adopting a wholesome though
perhaps unpleasant regimen, how much more ought a
man who, out of regard to the public welfare, has to
recommend a highly useful but not very popular bene-
faction, to win the people over by persuasiveness of
argument, especially when, like myself, he has to plead
for an institution solely for the benefit of those who
are parents, and to do his best to persuade a large
number who are yet childless to wait patiently for a
privilege in which only a few can immediately share?
As, however, at the time I thought of the public good
more than of my own personal reputation, and with
that view explained my motives, so now I am afraid
that if I publish my speech, people will say that I do
it for my own credit rather than for the good of others.
Persons who confer public benefits, and then afterwards
set them off in speeches, seem to have conferred them
simply in order to talk about them. In my own case,
a special circumstance weighs much with me. My
speech was not delivered before an assembly of all the
people of the town, but only before the corporation in
the town-hall. I fear it would hardly be consistent in
me, after having avoided popular applause when I made
the speech, to appear now to covet the same applause by
A. C. vol. xi.
@
98
PLINY'S LETTERS.
...
publishing it, and, though I thus kept out of the town-
hall the mass of the people for whose benefit the li-
brary was given, to be afterwards thrusting a parade
of my liberality on those to whom it can do no good
except by way of example. Such are my reasons for
hesitating in this matter. Your judgment, which I
shall esteem a sufficient sanction for my conduct, will
decide me.-Farewell."
!
Still more interesting, because simpler and less self-
conscious, is the following letter, in which he describes
his offer to his townspeople to contribute largely to the
establishment of a school for their youth :-
D
PLINY TO TACITUS.*
"I am glad to hear of your safe arrival at Rome. I
am always anxious to see you, and especially just now.
I shall stay a few more days at Tusculum, that I may
finish a little work I have in hand; for I am afraid
that if I break it off when I have all but completed it,
I shall find it difficult to take it up again. Meanwhile,
that I may lose no time, I send off this letter, so to
speak, in advance of me, to ask a favour of you which
I shall soon ask in person. First, let me tell you the
occasion of it. Being lately at my native town, a
young lad, son of one of my neighbours, came to pay
me a complimentary call. Do you go to school?
asked him. Yes,' he replied. 'Where?' At Medio-
lanum.' 'Why not here?' 'Because,' said his father,
who had come with him, 'we have no professors here.'
Epist. iv. 17.
+ Milan.
.C
(
·
:
•
ENDOWMENT of a SCHOOL.
99
"No professors! Why, surely,' I replied, 'it would be
very much to the interest of all you fathers' (and, for-
tunately, several fathers heard what I said) 'to have
your sons educated here rather than anywhere else.
Where can they live more pleasantly than in their own
town? or be bred up more virtuously than under their
parents' eyes, or at less expense than at home? What
an easy matter it would be, by a general contribution,
to hire teachers, and to apply to their salaries the
money which you now spend on lodging, journeys,
and all you have to purchase for your sons at a dis-
tance from home. I have no children myself; I look
on my native town in the light of a child on a parent,
and I am ready to advance a third part of any sum
which you think fit to raise for the purpose. I would
even promise the whole amount, were I not afraid that
my benefaction might be spoilt by jobbery, as I see
happens in many towns where teachers are engaged at
the public expense. There is only one way of meeting
this evil. If the choice of professors is left solely to
the parents, the obligation to choose rightly will be
enforced by the necessity of having to pay towards the
professors' salaries. Those who would perhaps be
careless in administering another's bounty, will cer-
tainly be careful about their own expenses, and will
see that none but those who deserve it receive any
money, when they must at the same time receive theirs
as well. So take counsel together, and be encouraged
by my example, and be assured that the greater my
proportion of the expense shall be, the better shall I
be pleased. You can do nothing more for the good of
Dorm
4
100
PLINY'S LETTERS.
your children, or more acceptable to your native town.
Your sons will thus receive their education in the place
of their birth, and be accustomed from their infancy to
love and to cling to their native soil. I trust that you
may secure such eminent teachers that the neighbour-
ing towns will be glad to draw their learning from
hence; 30 that, as you now send your children else-
where to be educated, other people's children may
hereafter flock hither for instruction.'
"I thought it advisable to explain the whole affair
to you circumstantially, that you may see more clearly
how much obliged I should be if you will undertake
what I request. I entreat you, in consideration of the
importance of the matter, to look out among the mul
titude of men of letters whom the reputation of your
genius draws round you, some teachers to whom we
may apply, but without as yet tying ourselves down to
any particular man. I leave everything to the parents ;
I wish them to judge, and select as they think fit; I
take on myself nothing but the trouble and expense.
If any one shall be found who has confidence in his
own ability, let him go there; but he must understand
that he goes with no assurance but that derived from
his own merit."
There is an inscription at Como in honour of a gram-
marian named Septicianus, which seems to imply that
Pliny's proposal to the townspeople was accepted, and
bore fruit.
Maqu
CHAPTER IX.
PLINY'S FAMILY AND FRIENDS.
It is not too much to say that the glimpses which we
get of Pliny's domestic life—of the man as he lived
among his family and friends-make as pleasant a
picture as anything of the kind that is to be found
in classical literature. There are letters, indeed, of
Cicero which are full of the same kind of interest; but,
unhappily, we know too much about Cicero. It is
impossible, for instance, as we read the affectionate
language which he addresses to his wife Terentia, to
help recollecting that in later life he divorced this
same Terentia, and married a ward of his own; and
the recollection, though it need not make us doubt the
sincerity of his language, cannot but diminish the
pleasure with which we regard the writer in this aspect
of his life. It might, of course, be objected, that it is
well for Pliny's character, and for our own satisfaction,
that we know far less about him; but it is a fact that
all that we do know is of the pleasantest kind. There
is not a syllable in what he says about his wife, his
kindred, his friends, that we could wish to be changed;
•
102
PLINY'S LETTERS.
not a syllable that hints at his being other than an
affectionate, just, blameless man. Nor is there from
other sources a breath of scandal against his name.
One is apt to think, after reading such terrible books
as Suetonius's 'Lives of the Cæsars' and Juvenal's
Satires, that there could not have been such a thing.
as pure and happy family - life in Rome; and it is
refreshing to correct such an impression by turning to
the picture that we get in these letters, and to feel
assured that, in the darkest and worst times, there
were homes such as we know our English homes to be,
kind masters whose hearts the curse of slavery had
not hardened, single-minded friends, pure women, and
faithful husbands. Of Pliny's father we know abso
lutely nothing. His mother appears once only-in the
letters describing the eruption of Vesuvius-though she
is not unfrequently alluded to. What we read there
is enough to satisfy us that there was a strong affection
between the mother and the son. We also learn that
she was somewhat infirm, and we may gather from his
language here and elsewhere that she was not alive at
the time (97-107) to which the Letters are to be as-
cribed. That Pliny had married some time previous
to the year A.D. 96, we learn from the fact that he
then held a sacred office which involved marriage, and
from his own statement, that that year-the year, it
will be remembered, of the accession of Nerva-found
him suffering from a recent bereavement in the loss
of his wife. He makes no other mention of this lady.
We do not even know her name. His second wife,
Calpurnia, is comparatively well known to us. We
HIS WIFE.
103
cannot do better than let the reader see the letter,'
written, it would seem, not long after marriage, in
which he describes her good qualities to her aunt,
Calpurnia Hispulla, herself an old friend of the Pliny
family, who had had the charge of her education :—
"It is because you are a model of family affections,
because you loved, as well as he loved you, that most
excellent and affectionate brother of yours, and still
love his daughter, showing to her the affection not only
of an aunt, but also of her dead father, I am sure that
you will feel the greatest joy in knowing that she is
proving herself worthy of her father, worthy of you,
worthy of her grandfather. Her intelligence is very
great, very great her frugality; in loving me she shows
how good a heart she has. And she has now a fond-
ness for letters which springs from her affection for
me. She keeps my books by her, loves to read them,
even learns them by heart. How anxious she is when
she sees that I am going to speak, how delighted when
I have spoken! She takes care to have messengers to
let her know how far I have convinced, how often
moved my audience to applaud, and what has been the
result of the trial. If ever I give a reading, she sits
close by, separated from the audience by a curtain,
and drinks in my praises with the greediest ears. She
sings and sets to the harp my verses; and it is not
any professor who teaches her, but love, who is the
best of masters. These things make me feel a most
certain hope that there will be a perpetual and ever-
growing harmony between us. For it is not youth or
Epist. iv. 19.
•
104
PLINY'S LETTERS.
·
personal beauty that she loves in me-things that by
degrees decline with old age-but my fame. This is
exactly what becomes one brought up by your hands,
and instructed by your teaching-one who can never
have seen anything in your companionship but what
was pure and honourable, and who learnt to love me
from your descriptions. It was you, you who used to
look upon my mother as upon a parent, you who
trained me from early boyhood, you who praised me,'
you who predicted that I should be the man that now
I appear to be. So we vie with each other in thanking
you-I for your having given her to me, she for your
having given me to her; for we seem each to have
chosen the other."
To Calpurnia herself we find addressed three charm-
ing love-letters* from her husband, which we shall not
apologise for giving entire :-
"I have never complained more than now of my
occupations, which did not allow me to accompany you
when you were going into Campania to recruit your
health, or even to be quick in following you. I am at
this time especially anxious to be with you, to learn
from my own eyes whether you are growing stronger
and stouter, and whether you make your way through
these luxurious and pleasure-seeking regions without
meeting anything to annoy you. Were you quite well, I
could not have you away from me without some appre-
hension. There is a certain fear and anxiety in know-
ing nothing for a time about her whom one loves most
ardently. As it is, when I consider both my own absence
Epist. vi. 4; vi. 7 ; vii. 5.
*
L
HIS WIFE.
105
and your feeble health, I am grievously troubled by
vague and various anxieties. I dread everything, fancy
everything, and, as is natural to those who fear, con
jure up the very things that I most dread. I entreat
you, therefore, the more earnestly, to do what you can
for my fears, by writing once, nay, even twice, a-day.
I shall be more at ease while I am reading your
letters, though when I have read them, I shall imme-
diately feel my fears again."
"You write that you are no little troubled by my
absence, and find your only solace in making my
books take my place, and setting them where I ought
to be. I am glad that you miss me; I am glad that
you find some rest in these alleviations. For my part,
I read and re-read your letters, taking them up in my /
hands many times, as though they were newly come ;
but this only stirs in me a keener longing for you.
What sweetness must there be in the talk of one
whose letters contain so much that pleases! Write,
nevertheless, as often as you can, though this, while it
delights, still tortures me.'
""
"You will not believe what a longing for you pos-
sesses me. The chief cause of this is my love; and
then we have not grown used to be apart. So it
comes to pass that I spend a great part of the night in
a wakefulness that dwells on your image; and that by
day, when the hours return at which I was wont to
visit you, my feet take me, as is so truly said, to your
chamber; and that at last, sick and sad at heart, like a
•
106
PLINY'S LETTERS.
}
lover whom his mistress shuts out, I depart from the.
empty threshold. The only time that is free from
these torments is when I am being worn out by the
business of the courts and the suits of my friends.
Judge you what must be my life when I find my re-
pose in toil, my solace in wretchedness and anxiety."
This wife Pliny nearly lost by a dangerous illness,
brought on by a miscarriage. She seems, however, to
have recovered her health, for she was with him dur-
ing his two years' stay in his provincial government.
It was apparently about the end of that period when
she was summoned to Italy by the death of her
grandfather. Pliny, in one of his letters to the Em-
peror, excuses himself for having given his wife a
diploma (a sort of free pass, entitling the bearer to use
horses and carriages belonging to the state). He had
never before, he says, given one except on the Em-
peror's affairs; but his wife had heard of the death of
her grandfather, and wished to make all haste she
could to join her aunt (the Calpurnia Hispulla before
mentioned), and he had given her the document with-
out waiting for the Emperor's sanction, which, indeed,
could not have been given till it was too late to be of
use. Trajan's answer is, as we should expect, kind and
approving.
}
It would seem that Pliny had no children—that is,
if we may argue from the absence of any allusion of
the kind in the Letters, except, indeed, when he writes
to Calpurnia's aunt and to her grandfather about the
disappointment which he and his wife had experi-
enced. "You cannot desire" (he writes to the old
CALPURNIUS FABATUS.
107
man, his father-in-law's father, or prosocer, as the
Latin conveniently expresses it) "great-grandchildren
more eagerly than I desire children—children to whom
I seem likely to leave an easy road to honour, both
on your side and on mine—a name that is widely
known, and a nobility of no new origin. The gods
grant that they may be born, and change this sorrow
of ours into joy." We should hardly have failed to
hear if their hopes had been fulfilled. Childlessness
was common, as we may gather from many indications,
among the upper class of Romans.
Calpurnia's father had died many years before her
marriage. Her grandfather, Calpurnius Fabatus, sur-
vived, as we have seen, to the year 105. He must
have been then a very old man, as more than forty
years before, in the days of Nero, he had had a narrow
escape from a charge brought against him by one of
the informers of the time. He was, it appears, a
native, or, at all events, an inhabitant of Comum,
and therefore a fellow-townsman of Pliny. We also
find that he was a man of wealth. We have a let-
ter congratulating him on having dedicated, in the
name of himself and of his son (who was then dead),
a very handsome chapel in Comum, and in having
promised a further sum of money for the ornamentation
of the gates. In another letter Pliny sends his com-
pliments to the old man on the occasion of his birth-
day, and takes the opportunity of telling him that he
had inspected a villa of his in Campania. A third
letter, written, like the others, in a very affectionate
tone, promises an early visit on the part of Pliny and
سے
108
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
his wife. This letter will be found at the close of
the next chapter.
The subject of Pliny's family must not be dismissed
without a brief mention of the humbler members of it,
the freedmen and slaves, for whom he seems to have
entertained a kindly feeling which was not always
found in Roman masters, and which he does not de-
scribe without something of apology in his tone. "I
know," he says, writing to a friend, "how mildly you
rule your household, and so will more frankly confess
to you how indulgently I treat my own people." These
words are the introduction to a letter which he writes
on behalf of his freedman, Zosimus. Zosimus, who
was of Greek extraction-descended, one may guess,
through more than one generation of slaves, from the
inhabitant of some luckless Greek city which had
taken the wrong side in the civil wars-was an accom-
plished man, with a special gift for comic acting. He
had suffered from hemorrhage, brought on by the
exercise of his art, and had been sent by his master,
or, we should rather say, patron, into Egypt. From
this country he had returned apparently restored in
health, but exertion had brought on a partial relapse.
Pliny writes to his friend Paullinus to request that the
invalid might be allowed to take up his abode for a
time on an estate which the latter possessed at Forum
Julii (now Fréjus, in the Riviera). It is interesting
to see the Roman using the same sanatoria as are now
in request among consumptive patients. Another
noteworthy point is an arrangement which the letter
suggests, almost as a matter of course, by which Zosi-
HIS FREEdmen anD SLAVES.
109
mus was to be quartered at the expense of Paullinus or
his tenants. "Will you," it runs, "give direction
to your people to let him have the use of your house
and buildings, and to furnish him with supplies if he
wants anything. A physician he certainly will want.
I will give him, when he sets out, a sum for travelling
expenses sufficient to carry him to your place."
Another letter speaks so well for the writer's kind-
ness of heart, that we shall give it entire.*
"I am much troubled by illnesses, and, alas! by
deaths, among my own people, some of them quite
young men. I have two consolations, not equal indeed
to so great a sorrow, yet consolations still. One is my
willingness to give them their freedom. I count myself
to have lost, not altogether before their time, those who
were free when I lost them. The other is, that I allow
even my slaves to make what may be called wills, and
that I treat them as valid. They leave such injunctions
and requests as they think fit; I obey as one who fol-
lows command. They share, they give, they leave what
they possess, so long as they do it within the fan ily.t
To the slave, indeed, the family is a sort of common-
wealth, so to speak, or country. Though I seek to be
satisfied with these consolations, still I am overcome;
I am overpowered by the same human feeling which
has led me to grant this indulgence, yet I would not
wish to become harder. I know, indeed, that others
speak of misfortunes of this kind as being nothing
Epist. viii. 16.
+ The "
family," in Roman parlance, included the whole
household, bond or free.
.3
:
110
PLINY'S LETTERS.
more than a loss of property, and think themselves, on
the strength of it, great and wise men. Great and wise
they may be-I cannot tell; but men they are not. To
be touched by grief-to feel it, but fight against it;
to make use of consolations, not to be above the necd
of them-this is what becomes a man."
I
Pliny's FRIENDS were a numerous company, and it
must suffice to notice a few of the most prominent. Of
the men of letters we have already spoken. Among
the rest, VERGINIUS RUFUS, who had acted as joint
guardian with his uncle, stands foremost.
His name occurs several times in the History of
Tacitus. His life was long and eventful. During the
last year of Nero's reign he commanded the Roman
army in Lower Germany, and in the confusion which
followed on the revolt of Vindex, the soldiers wished
to make him emperor. He refused, on the ground that
it was for the senate and not for the army to name
Nero's successor. Soon after, on Otho's death, the
same offer was pressed on him by the soldiers, and a
second time declined. This brought him into peril;
the capricious soldiery, in their disappointment, accused
him of a conspiracy against Vitellius, and insisted on his
being put to death. The danger was happily escaped,
and this great man lived to A.D. 97, the second year
of
Nero's reign, and died as consul for the third time at
the age of eighty-three. We have in the following
letter*
an account of the circumstances of his death
and of his funeral :-
་
*
•
Epist. ii. 1.
VERGINIUS RUFUS.
111
PLINY TO VOCONIUS ROMANus.
"Rome has not for many years beheld a grander and
more memorable sight than the public funeral of Ver-
ginius Rufus, a most illustrious man, and as fortunate
as he was illustrious. He lived thirty years after he had
reached the zenith of his fame. He read poems about
himself, and histories of his achievements; he, in fact,
lived to see his fame with an after-generation. He
was three times consul, thus rising to be the highest of
subjects, after having refused to be an emperor. The
Cæsars, who suspected and hated his virtues, he outlived,
and has left behind him this best of emperors, this friend
of all mankind. One would think Providence had
spared him that he might receive the honour of a pub-
lic funeral. He died in his eighty-fourth year, in the
most perfect calm, reverenced by all. He had enjoyed
strong health, with the exception of a trembling in his
hands, which, however, gave him no pain. His last ill-
ness, indeed, was severe and tedious, but its circum-
stances added to his reputation. He was one day prac-
tising his voice with the view of delivering a speech of
thanks to the Emperor for having promoted him to the
consulship, and had taken in his hand a large volume,
which was rather too heavy for an old man to hold as
he stood up. It slipped from his grasp, and in hastily
trying to recover it, his foot slipped on the smooth
pavement; he fell and broke his thigh-bone, which,
being badly set (his age being against him), did not
properly unite. His funeral obsequies have done
honour to the Emperor, to the age, and to the bar.
.
TENS
112
PLINY'S LETTERS.
Cornelius Tacitus, as consul, pronounced over him the
funeral oration. His good fortune was crowned by
having so eloquent a speaker to celebrate his praises.
He died, indeed, full of years and of glory, famous even
from honours which he had refused. Still our world
must always sadly miss him, as an example of a past
age; and for myself, I must peculiarly feel his loss, for
I not only admired him as a patriot, but loved him as
a friend. We came from the same part, and from
neighbouring towns, and our estates joined each other.
Besides all this, he was left my guardian, and treated
me with a parent's affection. Whenever I was a can-
didate for office he supported me with his interest, and
though he had long since given up all such services to
friends, he would leave his retirement and give me his
vote in person. On the day on which the priests no-
minate such as they think most worthy of the sacred
office, he always proposed me. Even in his last illness,
when he thought he might possibly be appointed by
the senate one of the five commissioners for reducing
the public expenses, he fixed upon me, young as I was,
to make his excuses, in preference to many other friends
of superior age and rank. He even said to me, 'Had
I a son of my own I would intrust you with this
matter.'
"And so I must lament his death, as though it were
premature, and pour out my grief into your bosom, if
indeed it is right to lament over him, or to use the
word death of an event which to such a man termin-
ates his mortality rather than ends his life. He lives,
and will live for ever, and his name will be more.
vestricius spURINNA.
113
widely celebrated in the recollection of posterity now
that he is taken from our sight. I had much else to
write to you, but my mind is wholly absorbed in these
thoughts. Verginius is ever present to my imagina-
tion, and even to my eyes. I am ever fondly imagin-
ing that I hear him, converse with him, embrace him.
We have perhaps, and still shall have, citizens equal
to him in virtue; none, I feel sure, in renown.-Fare-
well."
Next to Verginius Rufus comes another soldier, VES-
TRICIUS SPURINNA. Spurinna had made his reputation
in the wars of a former generation, when he distinguished
himself by his brilliant defence of Placentia, which he
neld in the interest of Otho against the Vitellianist
general Cæcina. It was nearly thirty years after this
that Trajan, a prince not likely to choose for such ser-
vice a commander who had lost anything of his vigour,
put him in command of an army that was intended to
operate against the Bructeri, a German tribe. The
object of the campaign, which was to restore a native
prince, was effected without recourse to actual hostilities.
A statue, habited in the robe of triumph, was voted to
Spurinna by the senate, and a similar honour was
paid to his son, whom he had lost while absent from
Rome. Of this son Pliny wrote a memoir, which we
find him sending, with a graceful letter of condolence,
to the father and mother. There is another letter
addressed by Pliny to Spurinna, in which he tells
him how Calpurnius Piso, grandson probably of the
luckless man whom Galba adopted three days before
A. C. vol. xi.
H
114
PLINY'S LETTERS.
his death, had acquitted himself in writing some poem.
"I write the more speedily," he says, "because I
know how well disposed you are to all honourable
pursuits, and how it delights you to find young men
of noble race doing something worthy of their ances-
tors." The aged general was indeed an accomplished
and cultivated man; nor would it be easy to find in
literature a more pleasant picture than Pliny, who had
just returned from a visit to his old friend, gives of his
life in retirement.*
·
،
[We take the translation of Dean Merivale, in his
History of the Romans under the Empire,' vol. vii.
p. 326, 327.]
،،
I know not that I ever passed a pleasanter time
than lately with Spurinna. There is indeed no man
I should so much wish to resemble in my own old age,
if I am permitted to grow old. Nothing can be finer
than such a mode of life. For my part I like a well-
ordered course of life, particularly in old men, just as
I admire the regular order of the stars. Some amount
of irregularity, and even of confusion, is not unbecom-
ing in youth; but everything should be regular and
methodical with old men, who are too late for labour,
and in whom ambition would be indecent. This regu
larity Spurinna strictly observes, and his occupations,
trifling as they are (trifling, that is, were they not per
formed day by day continually), he repeats as it were
in a circle. At dawn he keeps his bed, at seven he
asks for his slippers; he then walks just three miles,
exercising his mind at the same time with his limbs
* Epist. iii. 1
VESTRICIUS SPURINNA.
115
If friends are by, he discourses seriously with them-if
not, he hears a book read; and so he sometimes does
even when friends are present, if it be not disagreeable
to them. He then seats himself, and more reading
follows, or more conversation, which he likes better.
By-and-by he mounts his carriage, taking with him
his wife, a most admirable woman, or some friends-
myself, for instance, the other day. What a noble,
what a charming tête-à-tête !—how much talk of an-
cient things! what deeds, what men you hear of!
what noble precepts you imbibe, though indeed he
refrains from all appearance of teaching! Returning
from a seven-mile drive, he walks again one mile;
then sits down or reclines with a pen in his hand,
for he composes lyrical pieces with elegance both
in Greek and Latin. Very soft, sweet, and merry
they are, and their charm is enhanced by the decorum
of the author's own habits. When the hour of the
bath is announced-that is, at two in summer, at three
in winter-he strips and takes a turn in the sun,
if there is no wind. Then he uses strong exercise for
a considerable space at tennis, for this is the discipline
with which he struggles against old age. After the
bath he takes his place at table, but puts off eating for
a time, listening in the meanwhile to a little light and
pleasant reading. All this time his friends are free to
do as he does, or anything else they please. Dinner
is then served, elegant and moderate, on plain but
ancient silver. He uses Corinthian bronzes, too, and
admires without being foolishly addicted to them.
Players are often introduced between the courses, that
▼
4
116
PLINY'S LETTERS.
the pleasures of the mind may give a relish to those
of the palate. He trenches a little on the night even
in summer; but no one finds the time tire, such are
his kindness and urbanity throughout. Hence now,
at the age of seventy-seven, he both hears and sees per-
fectly; hence his frame is active and vigorous; he has
/nothing but old age to remind him to take care of him-
self. Such is the mode of life to which I look forward for
myself, and on which I will enter with delight as soon
as advancing years allow me to effect a retreat. Mean-
while I am harassed by a thousand troubles, in which
Spurinna is my consolation, as he has ever been my
example. For he, too, as long as it became him, dis-
charged duties, bore offices, governed provinces; and
great was the labour by which he earned his relaxation."
Another among the older friends of Pliny was
CORELLIUS RUFUS. One of the earliest of the letters
describes his death; others speak in affectionate terms
of the intimate friendship which, in spite of the dis-
parity of age, had always existed between the two, and
of the great services which the elder had rendered to
the younger friend. "Our age," says Pliny, writing
to a friend who had asked him to plead the cause of
Corellius's daughter, "has seen no nobler man, none
of purer life, none of keener intellect. He was one
whom, when my admiration for him grew into affection,
I admired the more, the more thoroughly I knew him—
scarcely, you know, what usually happens." Through-
out his public life, in seeking office and in discharging
its duties, Corellius had always been at his side.
"The conversation," he writes, "once happened to
+
+
•
CORELLIUS RUFUS.
117
turn in Nerva's presence on young men of worth.
Many were speaking in high praise of me; for a while
he kept the silence which helped to give such weight
to his words. At last, with that serious air which you
know, he said, 'I must be moderate in praising
Secundus, for he never acts but by my advice.' The
circumstances of his death were peculiarly painful.
We quote the letter* in which Pliny describes them,
and again avail ourselves of Dean Merivale's trans-
lation of the passage :-
"I have just suffered a great loss.
My friend
Corellius Rufus is dead, and by his own act, which
imbitters my sorrow. No death is so much to be
lamented as one that comes not in the course of fate
or nature. Corellius indeed was led to this resolve
by the force of reason, which holds with philoso-
phers the place of necessity, although he had many
motives for living-a good conscience, a high repu-
tation and influence, not to mention a daughter, a
wife, a grandson, sisters, and true friends besides.
But he was tortured by so protracted a malady that
his reasons for death outweighed all these advantages.
In his thirty-third year, as I have heard him declare,
he was attacked by gout in his feet. The disease
was hereditary with him. In the vigour of life he had
checked it by sobriety and restraint; when it grew
worse with increasing years, he had borne it with
fortitude and patience. I visited him one day, in
* "9
Epist. i. 12.
+ We have here taken the liberty of altering Dean Merivale's
rendering.
118
PLINY'S LETTERS.
+
Domitian's time, and found him in the greatest suffer
ing, for the disease had spread from the feet all through
his limbs. His slaves quitted the room, for such was
their habit whenever an intimate friend came to see
him; and such was also his wife's practice, though
she could have kept any secret. After casting his
eyes around, he said, 'Why do you suppose it is I con-
tinue so long to endure these torments? I would
survive the ruffian (meaning Domitian) just one day.'
Had his body been as strong as his mind, this wish
he would have effected with his own hand. God
granted it, however; and when he felt that he should
die a free man, he burst through all the lesser ties
which bound him to life. The malady which he had
tried so long to relieve by temperance still increased.
At last his firmness gave way. Two, three, four days
passed, and he had refused all food. His wife, His
pulla, sent our friend Geminius to me, with the mel-
ancholy news that her husband had resolved to die,
and would not be dissuaded by her prayers or her
daughter's; I alone could prevail upon him. I flew
to him. I had almost reached the spot, when Atticus
met me from Hispulla to say that even I could not
now prevail, so fixed had become his determination.
To his physician, indeed, on food being offered him,
he had said, 'I have decided;' an expression which
makes me the more regret him, as I the more admire
him. I think to myself, What a friend, what a man
I have lost! He had completed, indeed, his sixty-
seventh year, an advanced age even for the strongest.
Yes, I know it.
He has escaped from his long-
S
·
JUNIUS MAURICUS.
119
protracted illness. I know it. He has died, leaving
his dearest friends behind him, and the state, which
was still dearer to him, in prosperity. This, too, I know.
Nevertheless I lament his death, no less than if he
were young and vigorous. I lament it do not think
me weak in saying so―on my own account. For I
have lost yes, I have lost a witness of my own life)
a guide, a master. In short, I will say to you, as I
said to my friend Calvi ius, I fear I shall myself live
more carelessly for the future.”
❤
Another of his friends was JUNIUS MAURICUS, the
brother of Arulenus Rusticus, who, as Tacitus tells us
at the beginning of his Life of Agricola, had been put
to death under Domitian for writing a panegyric ou
Pætus Thrasea. "We," says the historian, speaking
of his brother senators in one of the closing chapters,
in which he briefly and powerfully sketches the last
three terrible years of Domitian's reign," we parted
the two brothers;" the one being murdered, the other
driven into exile. The banishment of Mauricus is
alluded to in a letter already given about the informer
Regulus.* He returned from exile in the year of Nerva's
accession; and though only three of Pliny's extant
letters are addressed to him, he was, it is clear, one of
his intimate and valued friends. From one of these
letters it appears that he had asked Pliny to look out
for a husband for his brother's daughter; another is a
reply to the request that he would choose a tutor for
his brother's children. In these letters Pliny implies
that he himself owed much to the brother, who was
P. 52.
120
PLINY'S LETTERS.
one of the many victims of the reign of terror, and that
he was prepared to undertake the somewhat invidious
task of making a selection. Pliny says he never knew
a firmer or a more outspoken man than Mauricus. The
praise would seem to have been well deserved. Tacitus
tells us that he put a singularly bold question to
Domitian on the occasion of his father's accession to
the throne. It was Domitian's first appearance in the
senate, and Mauricus then and there publicly asked him
to submit to the House the papers of the late emperors,
so that they might see for themselves who had laid in-
formations, and who were the subjects of those informa-
tions. The Emperor, Domitian replied, must be con-
sulted in so importanta matter; and the motion was thus
evaded. We have already had occasion to allude to an
instance of the truthfulness and candour of Mauricus
when he was once dining with the Emperor Nerva.
Pliny mentions another. There was a celebration of
games, with the usual gymnastic contests, at Vienna, in
Gaul, which one of Pliny's friends, who held an im-
portant office in the town, contrived to get abolished.
It was said that he had done this without the authority
of the townspeople; and when brought to trial, as it
would appear, before the senate, he pleaded his cause
himself, and carried with him the sympathies of the
audience. When the verdict had to be pronounced,
and it came to the turn of Mauricus to pronounce
judgment, he gave it as his opinion that the games in
question ought not to be repeated at Vienna; and he
added the audacious and unpopular sentiment that he
wished they could be abolished at Rome.
W
VOCONIUS ROMANUS.
121
Several of Pliny's letters are addressed to Voconius
ROMANUS. We know nothing of him but what Pliny
tells us. He was evidently one of his best and dearest
friends. His father was a Roman knight, and his
mother came from one of the provinces of Spain.
Pliny and he had been fellow-students; they had, no
doubt, heard the same lectures at Rome, and had ac-
quired similar tastes. Voconius was preparing himself
for the bar, and became, according to Pliny, an admir-
able pleader. He is spoken of in the highest terms
in a letter in which Pliny recommends him to the
notice of Priscus, who was, it appears, in the command
of a large army, and would have plenty of patronage
at his disposal. Pliny says of him, "My friend is a
charming talker, and has, besides, a particularly sweet
expression of countenance. He has, too, ability of the
highest order; he has a piercing and refined intellect,
ready for its work at a moment's notice; he is a learned
lawyer; he writes such admirable letters that you
would think the Muses themselves must speak in
Latin. I love him as much as it is possible for one
friend to love another, and his love for me is the same.
Pliny asks for his friend a great favour of the Emperor
Trajan, which we may presume was granted. He begs
that he may be raised to the highest rank in the state,
and be made a senator.
""
A singularly pathetic letter-it happens, naturally
enough, that we hear most of the friends whom Pliny
lost-describes the character of a younger man, Junius
Avitus, to whom Pliny had rendered much the same ser-
vice that he had himself received from Corellius Rufus ;
2
مبر
"
122
PLINY'S LETTERS.
and who, after having won golden opinions both in a
short military career and as prætor under more than one
provincial governor, had died suddenly, immediately
after completing his canvass for the ædileship. But of
all the letters of the kind, there is nothing more touch-
ing than the following: *—
"I have the saddest news to tell you. Our friend
Fundanus has lost his younger daughter. I never saw
girl more cheerful, more lovable, more worthy of long
life—nay, of immortality. She had not yet completed
her fourteenth year, and she had already the prudence
of an old woman, the gravity of a matron, and still, with
all maidenly modesty, the sweetness of a girl. How she
would cling to her father's neck! how affectionately and
discreetly she would greet us, her father's friends! how
she loved her nurses, her attendants, her teachers,--
every one according to his service! How earnestly,
how intelligently, she used to read! How modest was
she and restrained in her sports! And with what
self-restraint, what patience-nay, what courage--she
bore her last illness! She obeyed the physicians, en-
couraged her father and sister, and when all strength
(of body had left her, kept herself alive by the vigour
of her mind. This vigour lasted to the very end, and
was not broken by the length of her illness or by the
fear of death; so leaving, alas! to us yet more and
weightier reasons for our grief and our regret. Oh
the sadness, the bitterness of that death! Oh the
cruelty of the time when we lost her, worse even than
Epist. v. 16.

•
THE DAUGhter of fundanusS.
123
the loss itself! She had been betrothed to a noble
youth; the marriage-day had been fixed, and we had
been invited. How great a joy changed into how great
a sorrow! I cannot express in words how it went to
my heart when I heard Fundanus himself (this is one
of the grievous experiences of sorrow) giving orders
that what he had meant to lay out on dresses, and
pearls, and jewels, should be spent on incense,
unguents, and spices."
•
CHAPTER X.
COUNTRY LIFE-PLINY'S VILLAS.
3
PLINY, like all the rich men of his time, lived much in
the country. He thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated
the charms of rural scenery, and his descriptions of it
have about them the tone of modern sentiment. As
we read them, we seem to be on the threshold of our
own times. There is, we feel, a distinct link between
our own tastes and those of a Roman who could dwell
with pleasure on the beauties of a landscape. The
Roman of the upper class, no doubt, had always heen
fond of country life, and was in many respects not
unlike an English squire; but it would seem that the
sort of sentimental, and, so to speak, artistic feeling
about the country which is so familiar to us, was spe-
cially developed under the Empire, and exhibited itself
in the literature of the Silver age.
In the following letter Pliny contrasts life in Rome
with life in the country :—
PLINY TO MINUTIUS FUNDANUS.*
*
"When one considers how the time passes at Rome,
Epist. i. 9.
125
6
one cannot but be surprised that, take any single day,
and it either is or seems to be spent reasonably enough;
and yet, upon casting up the whole sum, the amount
will appear quite otherwise. Ask any of your friends
what he has been doing to-day he will tell you, per-
haps, I have been paying a visit to a friend on the
occasion of his son's coming of age; I have had an
invitation to a wedding; I have had to witness the
signature of a will; I was asked to attend the hearing
of a cause; I was called in to a consultation.' All
these duties seem very important while you are en-
gaged in them; yet, when you reflect at your leisure
that every day has been thus employed, you feel them
to be mere trifles. Then you think to yourself how
many of your days have been spent in a dull dreary
routine. This is my own case when I retire to my
house at Laurentum for a little quiet reading and
writing, and for the bodily rest which freshens up the
mind. Then I hear nothing and say nothing for
which I have reason to be sorry; no one talks scandal
to me, and I find fault with nobody, except myself,
when I cannot compose to my satisfaction. There
I am free from the anxieties of hope and fear; no
rumours worry me; my books and my thoughts are
my only companions. True and genuine life, sweet
and honourable repose, nobler than any sort of occu-
pation! O sea and shore, true scene for study and
contemplation, with how many thoughts do you in-
spire me! My friend, do you too take the first oppor-
tunity of leaving the bustle of Rome, with its idle
pursuits and laborious trifles, and give yourself up to
1
COUNTRY LIFE.
سے
126
PLINY'S LETTERS.
study or to repose. It is better,' as my friend Atilius
has said, with as much wit as wisdom, 'to have noth-
ing to do than to be doing nothing.'-Farewell."
Horace complains in very much the same way of a city
life, and of the infinite boredom which so often attends
it. "As soon as I came," he says, "to the gardens of
Mæcenas at Rome, a hundred suitors leap out and
pounce upon me, and annoy me with endless solicita-
tions." Some of the very same particular troubles are
mentioned by the poet as are alluded to by Pliny.
In the following letter we see the delight which
Pliny took in beautiful scenery. It is a description
of the source of the Clitumnus and the surrounding
country. The Clitumnus was a little river in Umbria,
and a tributary of the Tiber. It was known as the
Timia or Tinia during the last nine or ten miles of its
course. Virgil speaks of the singularly white cattle
which were pastured on its banks. It flowed through
a rich valley bounded on either side by the Apen-
nines. It would appear that the picturesqueness of
the scenery about its source attracted a number of
visitors. Clitunno is its modern name; Spoleto and
Foligno are in its immediate neighbourhood.
PLINY TO ROMANUS.*
"Have you ever seen the source of the Clitumnus?
T suppose not, as I never heard you mention it. Let
me advise you to go there at once. I have just seen
it, and am sorry I put off my visit so long.
Epist. iii. 8.
I
1
COUNTRY LIFE.
127
"At the foot of a little hill, covered with old and
shady cypress-trees, gushes out a spring, which bursts
out into a number of streamlets, all of different sizes.
Having struggled, so to speak, out of its confinement,
it opens out into a broad basin, so clear and trans-
parent that you may count the pebbles and little
pieces of money which are thrown into it. From this
point the force and weight of the water, rather than
the slope of the ground, hurries it onward. What was
a mere fountain becomes a noble river, wide enough to
allow vessels to pass each other, as they sail with or
against the stream. The current is so strong, though
the ground is level, that large barges, as they go down
the river, do not require the assistance of oars; while
to go up it is as much as can possibly be done with
oars and long poles. When you sail up and down for
amusement, the ease of going down the stream and the
labour of returning make a pleasant variety. The
banks are clothed with an abundance of ash and poplar,
which are so distinctly reflected in the clear water that
they seem to be growing at the bottom of the river,
and can be easily counted. The water is as cold as
snow, and its colour the same. Near it stands an
ancient and venerable temple, in which is a statue of
the river-god Clitumnus, clothed in the usual robe of
state. The oracles here delivered attest the presence
of the deity. In the immediate neighbourhood are
several little chapels, dedicated to particular gods, each
of whom has his distinctive name and special worship,
and is the tutelary deity of a fountain. For, besides
the principal spring, which is, as it were, the parent of
128
PLINY'S LETTERS.
all the rest, there are several smaller springs which have
a distinct source, but which unite their waters with the
Clitumuus, over which a bridge is thrown, separating
the sacred part of the river from that which is open to
general use. Above the bridge you may only go in a
boat; below it, you may swim. The people of the
town of Hispellum, to whom Augustus gave this place,
furnish baths and lodgings at the public expense.
There are several little houses on the banks, in the
specially picturesque situations, and they are quite close
to the water. In short, everything in the neighbour-
hood will give you pleasure. You may also amuse
yourself with numberless inscriptions on the pillars and
walls, celebrating the praises of the stream and of its
tutelary divinity. Many of these you will admire, and
some will make you laugh. But no; you are too
cultivated a person to laugh on such an occasion.
Farewell."
Lord Orrery, who published a translation of the
Letters early in the last century, in some observations on
this letter, says that it reminds us of St Winifred's Well
in Wales. The old temple of Clitumnus may be com-
pared with the chapel of St Winifred, and the honours.
paid to the Italian god bear a resemblance to the mir-
aculous powers popularly attributed to the old British
saint.
When in the country, Pliny used to indulge in the
fashionable country sports, though we should think
they were not quite to his taste. Possibly his phy-
sical strength was hardly equal to the exertion which
COUNTRY LIFE.
they required. There is a decided touch of affectation
in the following letter to his friend Tacitus, in which
he tells him how he contrived to do literary work in
the hunting-field. As Lord Orrery remarks, a thorough-
bred fox-hunter would at once conclude that Pliny
had no real heart for field-sports.
A. C. vol. xi.
129
PLINY TO TACITUS.*
"You will laugh, and laugh you may. Your old
friend, whom you know so well, has captured three
magnificent boars. What! Pliny? you will say. Yes,
Pliny; without, however, abandoning my indolent
habits and love of repose. The nets were spread, and
I sat close to them, but instead of a boar-spear or
javelin, I was armed with my pen and my note-book.
I mused, and put down my thoughts on paper, for
I had made up my mind that if I had to return with
my hands empty, my note-book should be full. There
is no reason why you should despise this way of study-
ing. You cannot conceive how much bodily exercise
contributes to enliven the imagination. Besides, the
solitude of the woods around you, and the perfect
silence which is observed in hunting, strongly in-
clines the mind to thought. For the future, when
you go hunting, let me advise you to take with
you your papers, as well as a basket of provisions
and a bottle of wine. You will then find that Min-
erva haunts the mountains quite as much as Diana.
Farewell."
Epist. i. 6.
I
.
1:30
PLINY'S LETTERS.
1
But perhaps the most interesting and important of
Pliny's letters in connection with country life are those
in which he describes his country houses, of which he
had several. Of the two principal he gives us a very
elaborate account, to which we are indebted for most
of our knowledge about the character of a Roman villa.
One of these was close to Ostia, about seventeen miles
from Rome, facing the Tyrrhenian Sea. This Pliny calls
his Laurentine, Laurentum having been the old legen-
dary capital of Latium, and having given its name to
a considerable strip of the western coast of Italy, in
the neighbourhood of the mouth of the Tiber. It is
not possible to identify the site of Pliny's villa, as
might be expected from a circumstance which he him-
self tells us, that his own was only one of a great num-
ber of villas on this part of the coast. Its moderate
distance from Rome made it just the place which a
rich and hard-working man would select for a country
seat. Pliny tells us he could transact his business in
Rome, and arrive comfortably at his villa on the even-
ing of the same day. His other principal country
mansion was on a larger scale, and at a much greater
distance from Rome. He always calls it his Tuscan
villa. It was under the Apennine range, and the Tiber
flowed through the adjacent meadows. The great Ro
man houses, at all events in the country, seem to have
consisted of but one storey. We subjoin considerable
portions of the letters in which Pliny describes his
Laurentine and Tuscan villas. They are too long to
be inserted in full..
HIS LAURENTINE VILLA.
*
PLINY TO GALLUS.*
"You wonder why I am so extremely fond of my
house at Laurentum. You will wonder no longer wher
I make you acquainted with its attractiveness, the
advantages of its situation, and the extent of shore on
which it stands.”
*
"It is but seventeen miles from Rome, so that I can
pass my evening here without breaking in upon the
business of the day. There are two roads to it; if
you go by that of Laurentum you must turn off at
the fourteenth milestone-if by that of Ostia, at the
eleventh. Both are rather sandy, which makes them
heavy for a carriage, but easy and pleasant if you go
on horseback. You have a variety of landscape; some-
times your view is shut in by woods, then again it
opens out into broad meadows, where numberless flocks
of sheep and herds of cattle, which the inclemency of
winter has driven from the mountains, grow fat and
sleek during the warmth of spring in the rich pasturage.
"My house is for use, not for show. You first
enter a courtyard, plain and simple without being
mean, and then pass into a colonnade in the shape of
the letter D, the space enclosed by which looks bright
and cheerful. Here one has a capital place of retreat
in bad weather, for there are windows all round it,
and it is sheltered by a projection on the roof. Oppo-
site the middle of the colonnade is a very pleasant
inner court, which leads into a handsome dining-room
131
*
* Epist. ii. 17
.
132
PLINY'S LETTERS.
running out to the sea-shore. When the wind is in
the south-west, its walls are gently washed by the
waves which break at its foot. The room has fold-
ing-doors, or windows as large as doors, and from these
you might imagine you see three different seas. From
another point you look through the colonnade into the
court, and see the mountains in the distance. To the
left of the dining-room, a little further from the sea, is
a spacious sitting-room, within that a smaller room,
one side of which gets the morning and the other the
afternoon sun. This I make my winter snuggery.
Then comes a room, the windows of which are so
arranged that they secure the sun for us during the
whole day. In its walls is a bookcase for such works
as can never be read too often."
Then follows a description of the bed - rooms,
dressing-rooms, bath-rooms, &c., which were all on an
elaborate scale. There were both hot and cold baths,
and a warming-apparatus. There was also a tennis-
court, warmed by the afternoon sun, at the end of
which was a sort of tower. This, unlike the rest of
the house, appears to have been built in storeys, and
the highest storey was for the express purpose of
enjoying an extensive prospect.
"The garden is chiefly planted with fig and mul-
berry trees, to which this soil is peculiarly favourable.
Here is a dining-room, which, though it is at a dis-
tance from the sea, commands a prospect no less plea-
sant. Behind this room are two apartments, the
*
133
windows of which look out on the entrance to the
house, and to a well-stocked kitchen-garden. You
then enter a sort of cloister, which you might suppose
built for public use. It has a range of windows on
each side; in fair weather we open all of them; if it
blows, we shut those on the exposed side, and are
perfectly sheltered. In front of this colonnade is a
terrace, fragrant with the scent of violets, and warmed
by the reflection of the sun from the portico. We
find this a very pleasant place in winter, and still more
so in summer, for then it throws a shade on the terrace
during the forenoon, while in the afternoon we can
walk under its shade in the place of exercise, or in
the adjoining part of the garden. The portico is
coolest when the sun's rays strike perpendicularly on
its roof. By setting open the windows, the soft west-
ern breezes have a free draught, and so the air is never
close and oppressive."
HIS LAURENTINE VILLA.
One of the rooms was so contrived, that Pliny
says, when he was in it, he seemed to be at a distance
from his own house; and on the occasion of the feast
of the Saturnalia, which gave his domestics and ser-
vants full licence to make as much noise as they liked,
he found this a particularly convenient retreat.
The letter concludes with a brief description of the
neighbourhood.
"Amid the conveniences and attractions of the
place, there is one drawback; we want running water.
However, we have wells, or rather springs, at our com-
mand. Such is the extraordinary nature of the ground,
that in whatever part you dig, as soon as you have
C
134
PLINY'S LETTERS.
·
urne
turned up the surface of the soil, you meet with a
spring of perfectly pure water, altogether free from
any salt taste.
The neighbouring woods supply us
with fuel in abundance, and all kinds of provisions
may be had from Ostia. A man with few and simple
wants might get all he required from the next village.
In that little place there are three public baths, a very
great convenience, in case my friends come in unex-
pectedly, and my bath is not ready heated and pre-
pared. The whole coast is prettily studded with
detached villas or rows of villas, which, whether you
view them from the sea or the shore, look like a collec-
tion of towns. The strand is sometimes, after a long
calm, perfectly smooth, though in general, by the
storms driving the waves upon it, it is rough and
uneven. I cannot say that we have any very fine fish,
but we get excellent soles and prawns. As to other
kinds of provisions, my house is better off than those
which are inland, especially as to milk, for the cattle
come here in great numbers to seek water and shade."
Pliny had no estate or park of any extent round his
Laurentine house. In this respect his Tuscan villa
contrasts advantageously with it. It was here that he.
liked to spend the summer months, as he did a great
part of the winter at Laurentum.
His description of his Tuscan seat is equally minute
as the preceding. We give portions of it.
PLINY TO DOMITIUS APOLLINARIS.*
"I sincerely thank you for your kind concern in
Epist. v. 6.
*
135
trying to dissuade me from passing the summer on my
Tuscan property, under the impression that it is an
unhealthy part. It is quite true that the air of the
coast is unwholesome, but my house is at a distance
from the sea, under one of the Apennines which are
singularly healthy. But, to relieve you from all
anxiety on my account, I will describe to you the
climate and character of the country, and the lovely
situation of my house. I am sure you will read the
description with as much pleasure as I shall give it.
"The air in winter is sharp and frosty, so that
myrtles and olives, and trees which delight in warmth,
will not grow there. The laurel thrives, and is
remarkably beautiful, though now and then it is killed
by the cold-not, however, oftener than at Rome.
The summers are very temperate, and there is always
a refreshing breeze, seldom high winds. To this I
attribute the number of old men. If you were to see
the grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and hear
their stories about their ancestors, you would fancy
yourself born in some former age.
"The character of the country is very beautiful.
Picture to yourself an immense amphitheatre, such as
only nature could create. Before you lies a broad
plain, bounded by a range of mountains whose sum-
mits are covered with tall and ancient woods, which
are stocked with all kinds of game for hunting. The
lower slopes of the mountains are planted with un-
derwood, among which are a number of little risings
with a rich soil, on which hardly a stone is to be
found. In fruitfulness they are quite equal to a
HIS TUSCAN VILLA.
136.
PLINY'S LETTERS.
valley, and produce as good crops, though not so early
in the year. Below these, on the mountain-side, is a
continuous stretch of vineyards, terminated by a belt
of shrubs. Then you have meadows and the open
plain. The arable land is so stiff that it is necessary
to go over it nine times with the biggest oxen and
the strongest ploughs. The meadows are bright with
flowers, and produce trefoil and other kinds of herbage
as fine and tender as if it were but just sprung up.
All the soil is refreshed with never-failing streams,
but though there is plenty of water, there are no
marshes; for as the ground is on a slope, all the water
which is not absorbed runs off into the Tiber.
"This river winds through the midst of the meadows.
It is navigable only in winter and in spring, and then
conveys the produce of the neighbourhood to Rome.
In summer it shrinks to nothing, and leaves the name
of a great river to an almost empty channel. In
autumn it again claims its title.
"You would be charmed by taking a view of the
country from one of the neighbouring mountains.
You would fancy that you were looking on the ima-
ginary landscape of a first-rate artist; such a harmo-
nious variety of beautiful objects meets the eye wher
ever it turns.
"My house commands as good a view as if it stood
on the brow of the hill. You approach it by so grad-
ual a rise that you find yourself on high ground with
out perceiving that you have been making an ascent.
Behind, but at a considerable distance, is the Apen-
nine range, from which, on the calmest days, we get
THE GARDENS AND GROUNDS.
137
cool breezes. There is nothing sharp or cutting about
them, as the distance is sufficient to break their
violence. The greater part of the house has a south-
ern aspect, and enjoys the afternoon sun in summer,
and gets it rather earlier in winter. It is fronted by
a broad and proportionately long colonnade, which has
a porch of antique fashion, and in front of this colon-
nade is a terrace edged with box and shrubs cut into
different shapes. From the terrace you descend by an
easy slope to a lawn, and on each side of the descent
are figures of animals in box facing each other. You
then come to a shrubbery formed of the soft, I had
almost said, the liquid acanthus. Round this runs a
walk, shut in by evergreens shaped into every variety
of form. Beyond this is a riding-ring, like a circus,
which goes round the box-hedge and the dwarf-trees
which are cut close."
The remainder of the letter is occupied with a very
detailed description of the plan and arrangement of
the house. Pliny, as he says, had made up his mind
to take his friend into every nook and corner of it.
We find that everything was on a splendid and luxuri-
ous scale. There are summer and winter rooms, bath
and dining rooms, a tennis-court, a carriage-drive, and
a hippodrome or place for horse exercise, alcoves of
marble in the gardens, shaded with vines, and foun-
tains and little rills in all directions. The garden
seems to have been laid out in a somewhat stiff and
formal manner; there was, however, it seems, an
attempt to introduce into it an imitation of the wild
138
:
PLINY'S LETTERS.
beauty of nature.
It appears that the practice of
cutting trees into regular shapes came into fashion
among the Romans in the time of Augustus. In this
garden of Pliny's Tuscan villa we find it to be a very
prominent feature. We find, too, the plane-tree fre-
quently mentioned, as well as the cypress and the box.
Pliny says he had a special affection for this villa and
its surroundings, as they were designed by himself.
It was natural that he should take great pleasure in
describing it at length. "You will hardly," he says
to his friend, "think it a trouble to read the descrip-
tion of a place which I am persuaded would charm you
were you to see it." Towards the close of this long
letter he hints that he had villas at Tusculum, Tibur,
Præneste,—all names familiar to persons acquainted
with Latin literature. Of these villas he tells us no-
thing, except that he did not like them so much as his
Tuscan seat. He had also, as we have mentioned,
some villas on the margin of the Lake of Como. Two
of these, which were his especial favourites, he play-
fully called "Tragedy" and "Comedy." In the follow-
ing letter the names are explained.
+
PLINY TO ROMANUS.*
"I am glad to find by your letter that you have
begun to build. I may now shelter myself under
your
example. I am myself building, and as I have you
on my side, I have reason too. We are also alike in
another respect: you are building by the sea, I am
* Epist. ix. 7.
܀
:
139
building by Lake Larius. I have several villas on the
border of this lake, but there are two in which I take
most delight, and which chiefly occupy my attention.
They are situated like the houses at Baiæ; one of
them stands on a rock, and commands a view of the
lake; the other is close to the water.
I call one
'Tragedy,' because it is supported, as it were, by the
high buskin; the other Comedy,' as resting on the
humble sock. Each has its own peculiar beauties,
which, from their very difference, are all the more
pleasing to their owner. One has a nearer view of the
lake; the other commands a wider prospect over it'
I The first is built along the bend of a little bay; thẹ
VILLAS AT COMUM.
6
latter is on a cliff which runs out so as to form two
bays. Here you have a straight walk, extending along
the banks of the lake; there a spacious terrace, that
falls towards it by a gentle descent. The former does
not feel the force of the waves, the latter breaks them
from one you see people fishing below, from the other
you may fish yourself, and almost throw your line
from your chamber, as you lie in bed, as well as if you
were in a boat. It is the beauties these villas possess
which tempt me to add to them those which are want-
ing. But why should I give you a reason when I
know that you will think it a sufficient one that I am
following your example?-Farewell."
The following letter tells us how Pliny occasionally
played the part of the benevolent patron in a thoroughly
modern fashion. It reminds us of a church-opening,
and of the luncheon which commonly succeeds it :-
140
PLINY'S LETTERS.
PLINY TO FABATUS, HIS WIFE'S GRANDFATHER.
"You have long been wishing to see your grand-
daughter and myself. We are equally anxious to see
you, and are determined to delay the pleasure no
longer; indeed we are actually packing up, and mean
to set off as soon as the state of the roads will permit.
We shall stop only once, and that for a short time.
We must turn a little out of the way to go to my
Tuscan property-not to look after the estate (for that
might be postponed), but to perform an indispensable
duty. Near my property is a town called Tifernum-
on-Tiber, which put itself under my patronage when I
was a mere boy, thus showing an affection for me as
strong as it was undeserved. The people always cele-
brate my arrival with public rejoicings, express sorrow
when I leave them, and are delighted whenever they
hear of my preferment to office. To show my gratitude
to them (for it is a shame to be outdone in friendly
feeling) I built them a temple at my own expense, and
as it is finished, it would be a sort of impiety to delay
its consecration any longer. We shall be there on the
day fixed for the ceremony, and I intend to celebrate
it with a public banquet. Perhaps we may stay there
the next day, but in that case we shall make all the
more haste in our journey. May we have the hap-
piness to find you and your daughter in good health,
for I am sure we shall find you in good spirits if we
arrive safely.-Farewell."
* Epist. iv. 1.
CHAPTER XI.
PLINY IN HIS PROVINCE.
IN A.D. 103, the sixth year of Trajan's reign, Pliny was
appointed governor of the provinces known as Bithynia
and Pontus, or Pontica, as it was also called. He bore
the title of Legatus and Proprætor, and he had the
consular power. He had, in short, the highest rank
and position with which a Roman governor could be
invested. It would seem that he did not actually
arrive in his province till the middle of the September
of the year. He landed after a pleasant voyage at
Ephesus, and thence had a rather tiresome and dis-
agreeable journey during excessive heat to Pergamos,
where he stopped a while. His health, never very
strong, had been shaken by a serious illness in the
preceding year. His life, he tells the Emperor in one
of his letters, had been in danger, and he availed him-
self of a mode of treatment which we may presume was
much in fashion at the time. He procured the services
of a medical practitioner who cured many of his patients
by the simple process of rubbing and anointing. So
much good did he derive from the remedy prescribed,
142
PLINY'S LETTERS.
+
that, with the gratitude which he always felt for a
kindness, he asked the Emperor to grant to the physi-
cian, who was probably either a Jew or a Greek, the
freedom of the city of Alexandria, and also the privi-
leges of Roman citizenship. His province was an
important one. Its administration at this particular
time required tact and ability. It contained several
considerable towns, to the prosperity of which, it would
appear, the imperial government had greatly contri-
buted. Some of them, as Neocæsareia, or Nicæa, where
the famous ecclesiastical council was held in A.D. 314,
were of comparatively recent origin. There were also
the free cities of Chalcedon, Nicomedeia, Amisus, and
Trapezus, and the colonies of Heracleia and Sinope.
The district had the elements of wealth; parts of it,
especially towards the coast, were extremely produc-
tive; and it had iron mines. Its population must
have been of a very mixed character, with Greek ideas
and civilisation diffused throughout it. And in Pliny's
time, as we shall see, Christianity had gained a strong
hold on the people, and was a fact of the highest
importance.
Pliny had unquestionably many both of the moral
and intellectual qualities which go to make a good and
wise ruler. He had carefully cultivated a habit of
sympathy, and his tendency was to be as gentle and
merciful as possible. He was, as we should say, thor-
oughly tolerant and liberal. He was particularly fond
of everything Greek; and, as we have seen, he especi-
ally delighted in the society of Greek rhetoricians and
philosophers. In the following letter his love and

4
PLINY IN HIS PROVINCE.
143
admiration of Greece and its culture are strikingly
displayed. Like a well-known letter of Cicero to his
brother Quintus, it is a letter of advice to a friend
who was about to enter on the government of Achaia,
and had already earned credit as the governor of
Bithynia.
J
PLINY TO MAXIMUS.*
"My friendship for you constrains me, I will not
say to give you directions (for you do not require
them), but to remind you of what you already know,
so that you may put it in practice, and even know it
more thoroughly. Consider that you are sent to the
province of Achaia, that true and genuine Greece,
whence civilisation, literature, even agriculture, are
believed to have taken their origin,-sent to regulate
the condition of free cities, whose inhabitants are men
in the best sense of the word-free men of the noblest
kind, inasmuch as they have maintained the freedom
which nature gives as a right, by their virtues, by
their good actions, and by the securities of alliance
and solemn obligation. Revere the gods who founded
their state; revere the glory of their ancient days, even
that old age itself, which, as in men it claims respect,
is in cities altogether sacred. Honour their old tradi-
tions, their great deeds, even their legends. Grant
to every one his full dignity, freedom-yes, and the
indulgence of his vanity. Keep ever before you the
fact that it was this land which gave us our laws-gave
them to us, not as a conquered people, but at our own
* Epist. viii. 24.
144
PLINY'S LETTERS.
::
request. It is Athens, remember, to which you go,
it is Lacedæmon you will have to govern; and to take
from such states the shadow and the surviving name
of liberty would be a cruel and barbarous act. You
sce that physicians treat the free with more tenderness
than slaves, though their disorder may be the same.
Remember what each of these states has been, but so
remember as not to despise them for being no longer
what they were. Show no pride or arrogance; and
yet do not be afraid that you will fall into contempt.
Can he who is invested with power, and has the
insignia of authority, be despised, unless he first shows
that he despises himself by being mean and avaricious?
Power is ill proved by insult; ill can terror command
respect; far more efficacious is love in procuring sub-
mission than fear. Terror vanishes with your absence,
while love remains; the former turns to hatred, the
latter to reverence. You must therefore again and
again call to mind the meaning of your title, and make
yourself fully understand what a great work is the
government of free cities. For what can be better for
society than such government; what can be more
precious than freedom? Again, what could be more
shameful than to turn the first into anarchy, the last
into slavery?"
We may be pretty sure that Pliny tried to govern
his province on the principles here laid down. From
his correspondence with Trajan, he would seem to have
combined kindness with energy. A Roman governor
had very great powers, and a very wide latitude given
145
him. He commanded the army, and he had to hear
and decide causes. He had to impose the taxes, and
take care that they were collected. Much, one would
suppose, must have been left to the governor's dis-
cretion. Pliny's letters to Trajan, however, do not
bear out this impression. He would appear to have
thought that he was not justified in dealing with the
most ordinary matters without appealing to the Em-
peror. Very possibly this may have been the general
tone of a Roman governor at this time. Pliny, how-
ever, carried it so far that we think he must have been
wanting in that self-reliance without which a man
cannot be even a subordinate of the highest order.
Trajan, no doubt, liked and esteemed Pliny; yet on
one occasion he gives him a gentle reproof. The
people of Nicæa had undertaken to build a theatre;
and when £80,000 had been spent, it was found that
the walls were cracked from top to bottom, either from
the foundation being laid on marshy ground, or from
the bad quality of the stones. Pliny asks the Em-
peror whether in his opinion the work should be
finished, or entirely abandoned. This seems to imply
a very strict system of imperialism, or such a question
would have been utterly absurd. The Emperor hints
very plainly that Pliny must decide for himself.
"You are on the spot," he says in his answer, “and
are the best person to consider and determine what
had better be done in the matter." The town of
Nicæa, it would appear, did not manage its affairs very
well. Pliny tells us in the same letter that it was
rebuilding, on an enlarged plan, a gymnasium which
▲. C. vol. xi.
t
MUNICIPAL MISMANAGEMENT.
K
TH
146
PLINY'S LETTERS.
had been burnt down before his arrival in the province..
They had already incurred a considerable, and, as it
turned out, a useless expense. The structure was not
only very irregular and ill arranged, but a second
architect who had been called in, and who was a rival
of the original architect, declared that the walls, though
they were twenty-two feet thick, were not strong
enough to support the fabric, not having been properly
cemented. It seems strange that Pliny should write
to the Emperor about such details. The explanation
is to be sought in the fact, that a grant from the
imperial treasury was occasionally made to supplement.
the deficiencies of local resources. Trajan in his reply
shows the contempt of a soldier for the trifling amuse-
ments of the Greeks. "These paltry Greeks, I know,
are extravagantly fond of gymnastic diversions; and
therefore, perhaps, the citizens of Nicea have planned
a more magnificent building for this purpose than is
necessary. However, they must be contented with such
as will be sufficient to answer the use for which it is
intended."
Only a very few of Pliny's letters to Trajan refer to
matters of great interest or importance. In one he
recommends a friend with a testimonial to the Emperor;
in another he explains some slight deviation from ordi-
nary routine; in by far the larger number he writes.
about purely local matters, which, with our ideas, it
would seem almost an impertinence to refer to a ruler
who was many hundred miles distant. One of them
is interesting as an illustration of the extreme jealousy
of Roman imperialism, and its dread of anything like
¦
MUNICIPAL MISMANAGEMENT
117
secret societies. It reminds us of our trades-unions
and working men's associations. A destructive fire
had broken out in the city of Nicomedeia, and the
people, instead of trying to extinguish it, looked on as
idle and indifferent spectators. There were no engines
or buckets at hand—no means, in short, of putting a
stop to the fire. It occurred to Pliny that it would
be advisable to form an association of firemen, limited
however to 150 members. This very moderate pro-
posal does not commend itself to the Emperor. In his
reply he tells Pliny that it is to be remembered that
such societies have greatly disturbed the peace of the
province. "Whatever name we give them," he says,
"and for whatever purpose they may be established,
they are sure to become factious combinations, however
short their meetings may be."
From another of Pliny's letters it appears that the
people of this same town were as careless in their
management of public money as those of Nicaea. They
had spent a great sum on an aqueduct, and left it so
unfinished that it actually fell to pieces. The same
fate attended a second attempt, so that the town after
a vast expenditure was still without water. Pliny
tells the Emperor that he has himself visited a spring
from which the water can be brought, and that the
work can be constructed with the old materials, but
that it is really of the first importance that they should
have an architect from Rome to superintend the affair,
and guarantee them against a recurrence of failure.
"The usefulness and greatness of the work," he adds,
"is fully worthy of your reign." Trajan's reply is
118
PLINY'S LETTERS.
short and to the point. He tells Pliny that he ought
to find out whose fault it is that so much money has
been thrown away; and he plainly hints that the
jobbery of the townspeople among themselves has been
the cause of the disaster..
Trajan's reign, as we know, was a great time for the
construction of aqueducts, and several of Pliny's letters
concern this subject. The inhabitants of the colony
of Sinope were badly off for water, and it could only
be conveyed into the town from a distance of sixteen
miles. Pliny consults the Emperor, and tells him that
he believes the money can be raised on the spot, if he,.
the Emperor, is willing to concede such an indulgence
to the thirsty townspeople. Trajan's reply is favour-
able; the work, he says, will conduce to the health
and beauty of the place. Public baths, too, were much
in request at this time, and no town was thought to be
complete without them. This was a matter which
Pliny referred to the Emperor. The people of Prusa
wanted new baths, and Pliny found that there was a
very eligible site in a spot now occupied by the ruins
of what had been a noble mansion. Part of it, it
seemed, had been designed by the owner to be a temple
in honour of the Emperor Claudius; the remainder was
to be leased out for the benefit of the town. Pliny
suggests that the entire site had better be given or sold
to the town, and public baths constructed on it. Tra-
jan's answer shows that he was not without religious
scruples. "You have not," he says, "distinctly told
me whether a temple to Claudius was actually erected
on the spot; if so, though it has fallen down, the soil
..
Mu
ROMAN TOLERATION.
149
on which it stood is still sacred." We have an amus-
ing instance of a sanitary matter being brought by
Pliny under the Emperor's notice. A town, by name
Amastria, had, among many other beauties, a remark-
ably fine street of great length, by the side of which
there ran what was dignified with the name of a river,
but what was in reality a nasty sewer, as foul to the
sight as it was to the smell. Pliny thought it neces-
sary to tell Trajan that it ought to be covered up, and
that this should be done if the Emperor would sanc-
tion the necessary expenditure. If all Roman gover-
nors referred such matters to the Emperor, centralisa-
tion must have been carried to a preposterous extent.
Trajan's objection to so simple a thing as the forma
tion of a kind of fire brigade, gives us a clue to the gene-
ral attitude of imperialism towards the most important
phenomenon of the age. Christianity, indeed, had
now become a fact which could not escape the notice
of an observant ruler, and towards which no one pene-
trated with the true spirit of Roman policy could pre-
serve a friendly or even an indifferent attitude. For
Roman tolerance, though in one sense very wide, was
yet restricted by well-defined limits. To every con-
quered country it accorded the right of worshipping,
without molestation, its own gods. In legal language,
each national faith became "a lawful religion" (religio
licita). But this religion might, strictly speaking, be
practised only within its natural limits. To this rule
there were, of course, large exceptions. It would have
been a great hardship on a Roman subject, pursuing
some lawful occupation elsewhere than in his native
***
150
PLINY'S LETTERS.
country, if he had been forbidden to worship after his
own manner. In Rome especially, where strangers
from all the world were assembled, the rule was re-
laxed, even to a degree which sometimes- —as when,
for instance, the worship of the Egyptian Isis was for-
bidden-called forth the interference of the state. Of
all recognised religions, none was more commonly to
be seen flourishing in foreign countries than that of
the Jews. And it was with this religion of the Jews
that Christianity was, for the early years of its exist-
ence, confounded by all but the best-informed observer.
It shared the reverses of what may be called the mother
faith, as we may see in the banishment of Aquila
and Priscilla; but it also shared its immunities. It
was not long, however, before the distinction between
the two began to be noticed. Christianity was the
more active, and therefore the more offensive, of the
kindred faiths. This unpopularity must have become
sufficiently marked when Nero selected the Christians
to bear the weight of the popular rage, which had been
roused by the destruction of Rome. Titus, if we may
trust the speech which Sulpicius Severus-borrowing
probably from Tacitus-puts into his mouth, recog-
nised the difference, though he thought the two reli-
gions to be so intimately connected that the overthrow
of the headquarters of the one would lead to the ruin
of the other.* The language quoted below displays the
*
* The occasion of the speech was the council held, after the
capture of Jerusalem, to determine the fate of the Temple. It
runs thus:
"On the other hand, some, Titus himself among
them, were of opinion that the Temple, more than anything
POSITION OF THE CHRISTIANS.
151
growth of that feeling of suspicion and hostility which
was about to bear fruit in more than two centuries of
persecution. Titus does not seem in his short reign to
have taken any steps for giving effect to his feelings
about the new faith. Possibly he believed that what
he had done in the destruction of Jerusalem would
suffice. Domitian's capricious tyranny was not likely
to be peculiarly formidable to the Christians, though it
seems probable the informers-of whom we have heard
as being peculiarly active in his reign-took occasion
to bring against some of them the accusation of athe-
ism. Trajan was a vigorous ruler, full of the tradi
tions of Roman policy; and it was inevitable that he
should come into collision with the great Society which
had now extended into all the provinces of the empire.
To him it seemed a secret society of the most dangerous
character. It had no home of its own to which it
could point as its national seat. It claimed to embrace
all nations in a strange brotherhood, which seemed to
be, as indeed it really was, the rival of that empire
which also claimed to be coextensive with the world.
With Pliny's famous letter on the subject, and Trajan's
reply, we conclude this chapter.
•
else, must be destroyed, that so the Jewish and the Christian
superstition might be thoroughly eradicated. These supersti-
tions, though mutually opposed, had had their origin in the
same people. The Christians had risen up from among the
Jews; if the root was removed, the stem would soon perish."
The contradiction between this and the account given by Jose-
phus, who attributes the conflagration of the Temple to his own
countrymen, is remarkable.
152
PLINY'S LETTERS.
·
*
PLINY TO THE EMPEROR.
"It is my invariable rule to refer to you in all mat-
ters about which I feel doubtful. Who can better
remove my doubts or inform my ignorance? I have
never been present at any trials of Christians, so that
I do not know what is the nature of the charge against
them, or what is the usual punishment. Whether any
difference or distinction is made between the young
and persons of mature years—whether repentance of
their fault entitles them to pardon-whether the very
profession of Christianity, unaccompanied by any
criminal act, or whether only the crime itself involved
in the profession, is a subject of punishment; on all
these points I am in great doubt. Meanwhile, as to
those persons who have been charged before me with
being Christians, I have observed the following me-
thod. I asked them whether they were Christians ;
if they admitted it, I repeated the question twice, and
threatened them with punishment; if they persisted,
´ I ordered them to be at once punished. I could not
doubt that whatever might be the nature of their
opinions, such inflexible obstinacy deserved punish-
ment. Some were brought before me, possessed with
the same infatuation, who were Roman citizens; these
I took care should be sent to Rome. As often happens,
the accusation spread, from being followed, and various
phases of it came under my notice. An anonymous
information was laid before me, containing a great
number of names. Some said they neither were and
* Epist. x. 97, 98..
THE BASE. THE WHALES AND MORE OPENING IN THE RE
153
never had been Christians; they repeated after me
an invocation of the gods, and offered wine and
incense before your statue (which I had ordered
to be brought for that purpose, together with those
of the gods), and even reviled the name of Christ ;
whereas there is no forcing, it is said, those who
are really Christians into any of these acts. These
I thought ought to be discharged. Some among them,
who were accused by a witness in person, at first
confessed themselves Christians, but immediately after
denied it; the rest owned that they had once been
Christians, but had now (some above three years,
others more, and a few above twenty years ago) re-
nounced the profession. They all worshipped your
statue and those of the gods, and uttered imprecations
against the name of Christ. They declared that their
offence or crime was summed up in this, that they met
on a stated day before daybreak, and addressed a form
of prayer to Christ, as to a divinity, binding them-
selves by a solemn oath, not for any wicked purpose,
but never to commit fraud, theft, or adultery, never to
break their word, or to deny a trust when called on
to deliver it up: after which it was their custom to
separate, and then reassemble, and to eat together a
harmless meal. From this custom, however, they de-
sisted after the proclamation of my edict, by which,
according to your command, I forbade the meeting of
any assemblies. In consequence of their declaration,
I judged it necessary to try to get at the real truth by
putting to the torture two female slaves, who were
said to officiate in their religious rites; but all I could
LETTER ON THE CHRISTIANS.
154
PLINY'S LETTERS.
►
discover was evidence of an absurd and extravagant
superstition. And so I adjourned all further proceed-
ings in order to consult you. It seems to me a matter
deserving your consideration, more especially as great
numbers must be involved in the danger of these pro-
secutions, which have already extended, and are still
likely to extend, to persons of all ranks, ages, and of
both sexes. The contagion of the superstition is not
confined to the cities, it has spread into the villages
and the country. Still I think it may be checked.
At any rate, the temples which were almost abandoned
again begin to be frequented, and the sacred rites, so
long neglected, are revived, and there is also a general
demand for victims for sacrifice, which till lately found
very few purchasers. From all this it is easy to con-
jecture what numbers might be reclaimed, if a general
pardon were granted to those who repent of their
error."
The following is the Emperor's reply:-
TRAJAN TO PLINY.
"You have adopted the right course in investigating
the charges made against the Christians who were
brought before you. It is not possible to lay down.
any general rule for all such cases. Do not go out of
your way to look for them. If they are brought before
you, and the offence is proved, you must punish them,
but with this restriction, that when the person denies
that he is a Christian, and shall make it evident that
he is not by invoking the gods, he is to be pardoned,
ANSWER OF TRAJAN.
155
notwithstanding any former suspicion against him.
Anonymous informations ought not to be received
in any sort of prosecution. It is introducing a very
dangerous precedent, and is quite foreign to the spirit
of our age."
"}
Pliny remained in his province two years, and then
returned to Rome
д
CHAPTER XII
PLINY'S OPINIONS AND HABITS.
.
:
PLINY's time, as we have seen, was divided between
Rome and the country. At Rome he was a busy man.
He was an advocate in considerable practice; he was a
member of the senate, and took a lively interest in all
its proceedings; and he was evidently much in request
in fashionable and literary society. Often would he
have to hurry away from the court in which he had
been pleading, to hear and criticise the composition of
one of his many friends. He was, too, we should sup
pose, a man of genial and social temper, and was never
unwilling to accept an invitation to dinner, provided he
thought the conversation and the general character of
the entertainment was likely to have about it a refined
and elegant tone. The banquets of the vulgar rich,
though occasionally he may have found it advisable to
attend them, he despised and detested.
Country life, with its quiet and repose, he really\
enjoyed-perhaps all the more from the weakness of
his constitution, which no doubt sometimes succumbed
to the fatigues of city life. He had an eye for the
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PLINY'S OPINIONS AND HABITS.
157
beautiful scenery of Italy; and it would seem, to judge
from his minute descriptions, that he felt a genuine
pride and pleasure in the arrangement of his gardens.
He is continually telling us in his letters how pecu-
liarly favourable he found the country to meditation
and to literary work; and it was in the retirement of
one or other of his numerous villas that he used to
revise his various compositions. If we may judge
from one or two allusions, he was partial to the quiet
amusement of fishing. Hunting he regarded as good
for the refreshment of the mind rather than as a
pleasure in itself. A gentle ride or stroll were much
more to his taste than any such violent exercise. In
the following letter he gives us a pleasant picture of the
way in which he passed his time at his Tuscan villa:—
PLINY TO FUSCUS. *
"You wish to know how I dispose of my time in the
summer at my Tuscan villa. I wake without being
called, generally about six o'clock, sometimes earlier,
but seldom later. My windows remain shut, as I find
the darkness and quiet have a very happy effect on the
mind. Being thus withdrawn from all objects which
call off the attention, I am left to my own thoughts,
and instead of suffering my mind to wander with my
eyes, I keep my eyes in subjection to my mind. If I
have any literary work on hand, I think over it, and
revise the style and expression, just as if I had my pen
in my hand. Thus I get through more or less work,
according as the subject is more or less difficult, and I
Epist. vii. 9.
.
158
PLINY'S LETTERS.
I
find my memory able to retain it. Then I call for my
amanuensis, and having opened the windows, I dictate
to him what I have composed; then I dismiss him for
a while, and call him in again. About ten or eleven
(for I do not observe any fixed hour), according to the
weather, I walk on the terrace or in the colonnade, and
then I think over or dictate what I had left unfinished.
Then I have a drive, and employ myself as before, and
find this change of scene refreshing to my mind, and
it enables me to apply it with more vigour. On my
return I take a short nap; then I stroll ou', and re-
peat aloud a Greek or Latin speech, not so much to
strengthen my voice as my digestion, though my voice
is improved at the same time. I then have another
stroll, take my usual exercise, and bathe. At dinner,
if I have only my wife or a few friends with me,
a book is read to us, and after dinner we have
some music or a little play acted. Then I walk out
with my friends, among whom are some men of learn-
ing. Thus we pass the evening in various conversation,
and the day, even when it is at the longest, soon comes
to an end. Sometimes I make a little change in this
order. If I have remained in bed, or taken a longer
walk than usual, I have a ride instead of a drive, after
having read aloud one or two speeches. Thus I get
more exercise in less time. My friends now and then
look in upon me from the neighbouring villages, and
occasionally, when I am tired, their visits are a pleasant
relief. Sometimes I hunt, but I always take my note-
book with me, so that if I get no sport, I may at any
rate bring something back with me. Part of my time
159
is given to my tenants, though not so much as they
would like. Their rustic squabbles make me return
with fresh zest to my studies and more cultivated
occupations."
PLINY'S OPINIONS AND HABITS.
There is an amusing letter, creditable to the writer's
good taste and feeling, in which Pliny tells us how he
treated his guests when he gave a dinner-party. It
was common enough among the rich men of the time
—those, of course, especially who had suddenly acquired
wealth by disreputable means to draw very marked
distinctions in the company when they entertained.
Readers of Juvenal will remember his laughable de-
scription of Virro's party, how the great man treate-l
his poorer and less important guests with conspicuous
contempt. The dishes set before them contained the
coarsest and most indigestible fare, the wine was like
vinegar, and a slave stood over them to see that they did
not attempt to pocket some of the jewels with which
the drinking-cups were adorned. It was once Pliny's
misfortune to have to dine, as a comparative stranger,
with a man like Virro, who thought himself (so Pliny
says) an exceedingly elegant and attentive host, but
who really combined expense with stinginess. There
were three kinds of wine; the best he reserved for him-
self and Pliny, the next best for his inferior friends,
while the worst was given to his freedmen and to
those of Pliny, who, it appears, were present. One of
the guests who sat by Pliny observed the arrange-
ment, and turning round asked him what he thought
of it, and whether he approved of it. Pliny shook
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June
160
PLINY'S LETTERS.
1
his head. "Well, then, what do you do on such occa-
sions?" "I give all my guests the same wine," said
Pliny, "for when I ask them to dinner, I look on my
freedmen as my guests, and forget that they were once
slaves." The letter in which this anecdote occurs is
addressed to Junius Avitus, who, it seems, was a young
man at the time, just entering into fashionable society.
"Take care," says Pliny, "that you avoid above every-
thing this new-fangled idea of combining a show of
splendour with actual meanness: either, by itself, is
bad enough; when combined, they are simply dis-
gusting."
In a letter, in which he accepts an invitation to
dinner, he says to his friend: "I must have a clear un-
derstanding with you that your dinner is not to be
very long and elaborate; only let there be plenty of
the sort of conversation in which Socrates and his
friends indulged themselves, and even that must be
limited as to time, since I have official engagements early
in the morning." Once one of Pliny's friends, who
had promised to dine with him, disappointed him.
"I will bring an action against you," Pliny replies,
"and I will lay my damages at a high amount." He
then describes the menu, which seems to have been
singularly light, fruits and vegetables largely pre-
ponderating in it. Still, Pliny says there were attrac-
tions of no mean kind. There was to have been a
reading, or some acting, or some music, perhaps all in
succession. He playfully hints that his friend would
have preferred a less refined entertainment. From
what we know of him we can thoroughly believe what
I
I
!
161
he says to his friend in conclusion: "You may have a
more splendid and expensive dinner in many houses;
there is not one in which you can dine with more cheer-
ful accompaniments, and feel yourself more at ease,
than in mine."
THE PUBLIC GAMES.
Pliny's tastes were altogether those of a cultivated
man. Many men of the time, no doubt, resembled him,
and thoroughly hated the vulgarity which they so often
saw associated with enormous wealth. One of the chief,
and in popular estimation one of the most attractive,
features of life in Rome was the annual celebration of
the great games-the games of the circus, as they were
called during the first days of September. In one of
Pliny's letters we have his general opinion about them,
which was substantially the same as that of the man
he admired so much-Cicero. He is writing to a
friend who had very possibly wondered how Pliny,
whom he knew to be in Rome, came to be absent from
the seats allotted to the senators for the grand spec-
tacle. He had passed, he says, all the time amid his
books and papers, and had thoroughly enjoyed the
quiet. The games, he says, have really nothing in
them which one would care to see more than once.
Even the spectators, he hints, are not so much drawn
by the attractions of the sight itself as by a spirit of
gambling, to which a wide scope had been given in
Domitian's reign by the chariot-races, and the six
companies which engaged in them, and divided the
popular sympathies. Yet it is certain that many of the
best men of the time frequently witnessed these spec-
tacles. Very possibly a senator who was never seen
A. C. vol. xi.
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162
PLINY'S LETTERS.
in his place would have been a marked man, and in-
curred actual peril. Even in the better times of im-
perialism it may have been unadvisable for a man of
rank and position to have seemed to protest by his
habitual absence against so popular an amusement.
The letter from which we have been quoting may, and
we think, probably did, reflect Pliny's genuine senti-
ments; but, at the same time, we must admit that it
looks a little as if he was anxious to impress his friend
with the delicacy and refinement of his tastes. He is
certainly inconsistent with himself when we find him
in another letter praising a friend who had exhibited
a magnificent spectacle of gladiators at Verona, and
expressing his regret that the African leopards which
had been purchased for the show were detained by
stress of weather, and arrived too late.
It does not appear that Pliny had any definite
philosophical opinions. He liked the society of
philosophers as agreeable and intellectual men, but he
never shows any trace of having adopted the dogmas
į of either Stoicism or Epicureanism. Had he done so,
we may feel sure that his communicative disposition
would not have allowed him to conceal his preference.
He was of too gentle and sympathising a temper to
attach himself decidedly to any one set of opinions. It
would be interesting to know what he thought about
Providence, about the direction of human affairs, and
about such questions as a future state and the immor-
tality of the soul. All these subjects he must have
heard discussed from the most various points of view.
It seems very unlikely that he had any matured
!
A GHOST-STORY.
163
opinions about them. Sometimes in his letters we
come across passages which look as if he believed in
the unseen world, and in the possibility of occasional
revelations from it. His mind appears to have had
what we may call a religious basis.
There is a very
remarkable letter which strikingly reminds us of a
modern ghost - story. It is an anecdote about a
haunted house. There was a house at Athens which
had long been deserted because frightful noises were
heard in it during the stillness of night, and the appa-
rition of a grisly old man, with a long and unkempt
beard, who had chains on his hands and feet, and
rattled them in a horrible manner, was to be seen in
one of its desolate chambers. It remained, as may be
supposed, unlet, till a philosopher, by name Athenodorus,
came to Athens, and professed his willingness to take
the house; all the more, says Pliny, because of its evil
repute. He at once became the tenant, and as he sat
the first evening in one of the outer rooms, he concen-
trated his whole attention on his philosophical studies.
Surrounded with his books and papers, he felt sure
that his imagination would not be distracted by any
idle and unreal terrors. In the silence of midnight
he hears the clanking of chains, and though he fixes
his mind yet more steadily on his work, the noise in-
creases, and seems to be on the threshold of his chamber.
He looks behind him and sees the apparition, which
makes signs to him, and on his again returning to
his paper, stands over him as he writes, shaking and
rattling its fetters. Again he looks behind him, takes
a light, and follows the figure. The spectre moves
ܐ
164
PLINY'S LETTERS.
:
slowly, as though encumbered by the weight of the
chains; then it turns aside into the courtyard and
vanishes. The philosopher marks the place of its dis-
appearance with some leaves. The next day he goes
to the magistrates and asks them to have the spot dug
up. Some bones are found belonging to a corpse
which had long since rotted in the earth, with chains
attached to them. These are carefully collected, and
are then publicly interred, after which the house is
perfectly free from the apparition. Pliny's comment
on this strange story is as follows: "I believe the
word of those who affirm all this.". The tone of this
letter would certainly suggest to us that Pliny would
have been inclined to accept the alleged marvels of
modern spiritualism. At the close of it he relates two
singular incidents which had come within his own
knowledge, and to which he attributed great signifi-
cance. One of his freedmen was sleeping in the same
bed with his younger brother. The latter dreamt that
he saw some one sitting on the couch, who with a pair
of scissors approached his head and cut off some locks
of hair. In the morning he found that the top of his
head was shorn, and he saw the hair on the ground.
On another occasion one of Pliny's slaves was sleeping
with several of his companions in the slaves' dormitory.
Two men clothed in white appeared to him to enter
the room by the window, and to clip his locks as he
lay in bed. They then disappeared. The morning
showed that the dream was a reality; the scattered
locks of hair were to be seen round the boy. Pliny
half looked on these two incidents as omens which
165
pointed to his fortunate escape of the fate of many of
his friends under Domitian. "Nothing particularly
noteworthy," he says, "followed, except perhaps the
circumstance that in Domitian's time I was never the
subject of an accusation, though I should have been
had Domitian, during whose reign these incidents oc-
curred, lived longer. A paper was found in his desk
in which was written an accusation against me by
Carus Metius.' "Hence one may conjecture," he
adds, "that, since accused persons usually let their hair
grow long, the cutting off of my two slaves' hair was
an intimation of the averting of a peril which was
hanging over me." Pliny had no doubt much good
sense, yet one would infer from all this that he was by
no means without a taint of superstition. The age, it
must be remembered, while sceptical and unbelieving
in one sense, was also addicted to marvels and pro-
digies; and the best and wisest men, having no distinct
and definite assurance about the mysteries of the un-
seen world, could not rise above some of the lower and
weaker tendencies of the period.
We see from Pliny's Letters that suicide was very
frequent among the Romans of his time. His friend
Corellius Rufus, and the rich and luxurious Silius
Italicus, had both died a voluntary death with the most
cool and deliberate purpose. He also tells, with mani-
fest approval, the story of a most determined act of
suicide which had happened in the neighbourhood of
his own native town. He had been sailing with an
elderly friend on the Lake of Como, and had had pointed
out to him a house with a chamber projecting over the
PREVALENCE OF SUICIDE.
""
166
'PLINY'S LETTERS.
water, from which a lady, a native of Comum, had
thrown herself together with her husband. The man
was afflicted with a painful and incurable disease, and
his wife, convinced of the hopelessness of his recovery,
urged him to die, and was, in Pliny's words, "his com-
panion in death, nay, more, his guide, his example, and
the cor.straining cause of the deed." She bound herself
to him, and both perished together. Pliny wonders
that he never before heard of the incident.
The
action, he says, was equal to the splendid self-devotion
of Arria, but the actor was less famous. We can under-
stand how much there was in the circumstances of the
imperial period, even in its brighter days, to render the
interest in life less vivid than with ourselves. The very
luxury with which a wealthy Roman was as a matter
of course surrounded may well have become tiresome
and oppressive, and a comparatively slight cause may
have been enough to prevail on him to escape from its
ennui. On the whole, the teachings of the Stoic phi-
losophy encouraged a healthier view of life, and no
doubt braced up many who were wavering to bear with
patience present ills and troubles. Pliny seems to
have generally approved this aspect of Stoicism. One
of his friends was suffering from a tedious and severe
illness, and had made up his mind that, if the physicians
should pronounce it incurable, he would put an end to
his life. Should, however, there be a prospect of ultimate
recovery, he was determined to bear with it, though it
might be long and painful; this, he thought, he owed
to his wife, to his daughter, to his friends, and, among
others, to Pliny. His resolution is heartily commended
i
-
HIS POLITICAL VIEWS.
167
T
by Pliny as in the highest degree noble and praise-
worthy. "To rush on death," he says, "in a rash and
headlong fashion, is a vulgar and commonplace act; to
weigh and anxiously consider the various motives
which urge one to it, and to choose between life and
death according to the guidance of reason, is the mark
of a great mind.” He thus satisfies himself with a
sort of compromise, leaning, however, to the better
view, from which the Stoics in theory allowed no
exception.

Imperialism is necessarily unfavourable to the
development of political opinions. Those of Pliny
were perhaps somewhat colourless. It would have
been absurd affectation in him to have professed
attachment to the old republican ideas, which he
as well as Tacitus knew could not possibly be
revived.
In the senate, indeed, which still preserved some-
thing of its old state, if not of its power, he always
felt the liveliest interest. He frequently speaks of its
proceedings, and expresses no little delight and pride
when these really possessed something of the importance
which accorded with the nominal dignity of the as-
sembly. More than once he mentions measures which
were being taken, either by its own or by the Emperor's
action, to increase its efficiency. One of these passages
bears so closely on a subject which is just now on the
surface in our own political life, that, though it has
recently been quoted more than once, we must not
omit it. Open voting in the election to offices of state
had caused, it seems. in the senate, proceedings so un-
168
PLINY'S LETTERS.
dignified, and even disgraceful, that recourse was had
to the ballot. "I fear," says Pliny, "lest, as time
goes on, abuses spring up from this very remedy of
ours. There is a danger lest, when our votes are
silent, a want of honourable feeling come upon us.
For how few are equally careful of honour in secret
and in public! Many stand in awe of public opinion,
few of conscience."
But it was to the Emperor, as the real power in
the state, that he was compelled to look. Under
a ruler like Trajan he may well have sincerely be
lieved that freedom and order were so united as to
make the prospects of the Roman world really hope-
ful. His Panegyric of Trajan has unquestionably an
unpleasant tone of flattery running through its artifi-
cial and elaborate sentences; and it is, we feel, the
last of his compositions from which we should wish
to form an estimate of him. Still, there can be no
reason for doubting that it reflected Pliny's genuine
political sentiments. There is a perpetual contrast
between Trajan's beneficent rule and Domitian's hide-
ous tyranny. Thought and speech were now free, fear
unknown; it was easy and pleasant to obey. The
world was happy and contented, and every stranger
was anxious to obtain the safeguard and privileges of
Roman citizenship. The comfort and prosperity of
the provinces were anxiously studied. "How must
every province," says Pliny, "rejoice in being under
our protection, now that a prince is on the throne
able and willing to transfer from one region to another
169
the produce of the earth-a prince who purveys for
lands separated from Rome by seas and continents,
as he provides for the capital itself. Nowhere is the
climate so constant as to insure universal fertility, but
Cæsar has it in his power to correct the season's
caprice; and although he cannot make a blighted or
barren tract immediately fruitful, he can arrest the
hand of famine. That we should have one master
over us is infinitely better for us than a freedom full
of strife and discord." Pliny's good-nature, and wish
to see people happy and comfortable, naturally inclined
him to think well of a government which secured for
the world at large so many material advantages, while
it allowed the men of cultivation and of letters to
express their thoughts as freely as his friend Tacitus
was able to do in his Annals and History.
Of Pliny's last days, of even the date of his death,
we know nothing. We gather that he was alive a.d.
107 from one of the Letters, in which he complains that
ten years after the death of Verginius Rufus (who
died A.D. 97) the monument which ought to have been
erected over his grave was still unfinished. Pliny was
then in his forty-seventh year. The Letters were pub-
lished in his lifetime, and as no later allusion to con-
temporary events occurs in them, their appearance may
be conjecturally attributed to that or the following
year. From that time he disappears entirely from our
sight. It is not without pain that we take so abrupt
a leave of one of the most interesting characters of an-
tiquity. We cannot, indeed, call him a man of genius;
A. C. vol. xi.
M
HIS LAST DAYS.
•
170
PLINY'S LETTERS.
*
and we may trace some weak lines in the portrait
which he has painted for us of himself. But it would
not be easy to find in ancient literature, or indeed in
modern, one who approaches more closely to the best
modern ideal of a well-bred, cultivated, blameless
gentleman.
END OF PLINY'S LETTERS.
1

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