Opinions may differ as to whether the passion of Ariadne or the sorrow of Orpheus is represented with most skill. There seems this difference between the two, that in the one we feel we are reading a fable, that the situation is altogether remote from experience, that it is one suited for a picture or a poem of fancy. The beautiful picture of Ariadne, on the other hand, appears like one drawn from the life, and her passionate complaint is like that of a living woman. But still more undoubted is the superiority of Catullus in pictorial or statuesque reproduction seen in that part of his poem in which the original subject, the marriage of Peleus and Thetis, is described. Catullus, above all other Latin poets, except perhaps Ovid, can bring a picture from human life or from outward nature before the inward eye; and this power is, much more than Virgil's power of suggesting deep and delicate shades of feeling, appropriate to the more limited compass of the idyl. It is no disparagement to Virgil to say that in this kind of art he is inferior to Catullus. Catullus, though a true Italian in temperament, largely endowed with and freely using the biting raillery -'Italum acetum '-which ancient writers ascribe to the race, had in his genius, more than any Roman writer, the disinterested delight in art, irrespective of any personal associations, characteristic of the Greek imagination. Virgil's art, on the other hand, produces its deepest impressions only when his heart is moved. Even in the Eclogues this is for the most part true. Something must touch his personal sympathies, his moral or religious nature, or his national feeling, before he is roused to his highest creative effort. In the three cardinal passages which remain to be considered, in the composition of which the deeper elements of Virgil's nature were powerfully moved, the impression which the changing state of the national fortunes produced upon him is vividly stamped. The first of these (i. 464 to the end) was written in the years of uncertainty and alarm preceding the outbreak of the last of the great Civil Wars. The unsettlement all over the Empire, from its eastern boundary to its SIGNS ATTENDING THE DEATH OF CAESAR 253 furthest limits in Europe,-the agitation and impetuous sweep of the river before plunging into the abyss, is described and symbolised in the concluding lines of the Book : Hinc movet Euphrates, illinc Germania bellum; Arma ferunt; saevit toto Mars impius orbe: Ut cum carceribus sese effudere quadrigae, Fertur equis auriga, neque audit currus habenas1. This state of alarm is shown to be connected with the great national crime which Rome was still atoning, the murder of Julius Caesar. The episode arises immediately out of the enumeration of the signs of the weather, which, from their importance to the husbandman, are treated of at considerable length in the body of the poem. As the sun is the surest index of change in the physical, so is he said to be in the political atmosphere. The eclipse which occurred soon after the murder of Caesar is regarded as a sign of compassion for his fate and of abhorrence of the crime. Then follows an enumeration of other omens which accompanied or preceded that event,—some of them violations of natural law, such as those which occur in the narrative of Livy, when any great disaster was impending over the Roman arms, Infandum pecudesque locutae, Et maestum inlacrimat templis ebur, aeraque sudant 2 :others arising out of a great sympathetic movement among the spirits of the dead,— Vox quoque per lucos volgo exaudita silentis Ingens, et simulacra modis pallentia miris Visa sub obscurum noctis 3; On the one side Euphrates, on the other Germany sets war afoot: neighbouring cities, breaking their compacts, are in arms against each other; Mars, in unhallowed rage, is abroad over all the world; even as when the chariots have burst forth from the barriers, they bound into the course, and the charioteer, vainly pulling the reins, is borne along by his steeds, and the chariot no longer obeys his guidance.' 2 And cattle spoke, horror unutterable'-' And the images of ivory within the temples weep in sorrow, and the images of bronze sweat.' 3 6 A voice too was heard by many through the silent groves, speaking with a mighty sound, and ghosts, wondrous pale, were seen in the dusk.' others showing themselves in ominous appearances of the sacrifices, or in strange disturbance of the familiar ways of bird and beast, Obscenaeque canes importunaeque volucres Et altae Per noctem resonare lupis ululantibus urbes 1; others manifesting themselves through great commotion in the kingdom of Nature,-earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, great floods, 'The noise of battle hurtling in the air,' lightnings in a clear sky, and the blaze of comets portending doom. These all succeed one another in Virgil's verse according to no principle of logical connexion, but as they might be successively announced to the awe-struck citizens of Rome. The whole passage is pervaded by that strong sense of awe before an invisible Power-the 'religio dira '-by which the Roman imagination was possessed in times of great national calamity. The issue of all these portents appeared in the second great battle in which Roman blood fattened the Macedonian plains. Then by a fine touch of imagination, and looking far forward into the future, the poet reminds us of the contrast, indicated in other passages of the poem, between the peaceful and beneficent industry of the husbandman and the cruel devastation of war : Scilicet et tempus veniet, cum finibus illis Aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanis, Grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulchris2. Next follows the prayer to the national gods of Italy to preserve 1 'And dogs of ill omen and dire birds gave signs'-' and mountain-built cities echoed through the night with the howl of wolves.' 2 Doubtless too the time will come when in those lands the husbandman, as he upheaves the earth with his crooked plough, will find javelins eaten away by rough rust, or with his heavy mattock will strike on empty helmets, and marvel at the huge bones in their tombs, now dug open.' the life of him who could alone raise the world out of the sin and ruin into which it had fallen, and alone restore their ancient glory to the fields, which now lay waste from the want of men to till them : Non ullus aratro Dignus honos, squalent abductis arva colonis, Et curvae rigidum falces conflantur in ensem1. In the second of the great episodes this sorrow for the past and foreboding for the future has entirely cleared away. The feeling now expressed is one of pride and exultation in Italy, as a land of rich crops and fruits, of vines and olives, a land famous for its herds and flocks and breed of horses, for its genial climate, for the beauty of the seas washing its coasts, for its great lakes and rivers, its ancient cities and other mighty works of men; famous too for its hardy, energetic, and warlike races, Haec genus acre virum Marsos pubemque Sabellam, Extulit, for its great men and families who had fought for it in old times, and for one greater still, who was then in the furthest East defending Rome against her enemies, Haec Decios magnosque Camillos, This passage, introduced as a counter-picture to the description of the rank luxuriance of Nature in the vast forests and jungles of the East, concentrates in itself the deepest meaning and There is no due honour now to the plough, the fields are desolate, and those who tilled them are gone, and the crooked pruning-hooks are forged into the stiff sword.' This land has reared a valiant race of men, the Marsi and Sabellian youth, the Ligurian trained to hardship, and the Volscian spearmen.' 3 This too bore the Decii and the great Camilli, the Scipios, men of iron in war, and thee, great Caesar, who now, ere this victorious in the furthest coasts of Asia, art turning away the unwarlike Indian from the hills of Rome.' inspiration of the poem. The glory of Italy is declared to be the motive for the revival of this ancient theme Tibi res antiquae laudis et artis Ingredior1. As Varro represents his speakers as looking on the great picture of Italy in the Temple of Tellus while they discuss the various ways of tilling and improving the soil, so Virgil in the midst of his didactic precepts holds up this ideal picture of the land to the love and admiration of his countrymen. By a few powerful strokes he combines the characteristic features and the great memories of Italian towns in lines which recur to every traveller as he passes through Italy,— Adde tot egregias urbes operumque laborem, Tot congesta manu praeruptis oppida saxis, No expression of patriotic sentiment in any language is more pure and noble than this. It is a tribute of just pride and affection to the land which, from its beauty, its history, its great services to man, is felt to be worthy of the deep devotion with which Virgil commends it to the heart and imagination of the world. In the last of the great episodes which remains to be considered, all the higher thoughts and feelings by which beauty, dignity, and moral grandeur are given to the subject are found concurring; and the presence of Lucretius is again felt as a pervading influence, though modified by Virgil's own deepest convictions and sympathies. The charm of peaceful contemplation, of Nature in her serenest aspect and harmony with the human soul, of an ethical idea based on religious belief and national traditions, of a life of pure and tranquil happiness, remote from the clash of arms and the pride and passions of the 1 'It is in thy honour that I enter on the task of treating an art of ancient renown.' 2 Besides many famous cities, with their massive workmanship, many towns piled by the hand of man on steep crags, and rivers gliding beneath walls that have been from of old.' |