Chapter XIV: Civilisation at the End of the Period of Conquest (2)

When Scipio Africanus took the command against Numantia he sent away from the camp not less than two thousand women, a number of sorcerers and priests, and a whole tribe of traders, cooks, and other servants, so sunk was the army in debauchery and effeminacy. Cowardice and idleness were so deep-seated that it required many months and the most stringent measures to make the army fit to take the field. The change in the spirit of the government was also evident in the treatment of the Roman subjects in Italy and beyond Italy. The Italian communities which had not the full rights of Roman citizens--and they were the majority--were in a bad plight. The communities which had joined Hannibal were almost all condemned to slavery, and the rest were forced to render military service whilst the Roman citizens profited by their labours and kept themselves as distinct from them as the nobility did from the citizens and the rest of the people. The Italian allies were almost excluded from the rights of Roman citizens.

The foreign provinces which at first were treated with a certain consideration were soon in a worse position than the Italians. The governors, who had a royal position in their provinces, and were almost uncontrolled by the senate, allowed themselves the greatest licence, and used the short time of their office to enrich themselves. They indemnified themselves for the expense they had been put to in Rome in order to obtain their posts, and amassed the means for life-long enjoyment.

As the governors were not paid, they had a claim upon all kinds of services and supplies from the provinces, and this they abused in every way. They robbed shamelessly when there was anything to get, and what the governors did on a large scale their numberless subordinates did on a small one. When a province had to support an army it had much to suffer. Requisitions and levies were endless, and the people were often attacked and plundered by the general and soldiers as if they had been the enemy. To these evils were added the tax collectors and money changers who came like a plague into the country, and plied their bloodsucking callings at will under the protection of the governor. But the persecuted districts revenged themselves on their oppressors. The great wealth taken by the nobility from the provinces to Rome, the luxury and immorality of the officials and the armies, which had such a pernicious influence on the morality of high and low, became known in the uncivilised lands of the East, in Greece, and in Asia. The rich nobility was steeped in debauchery and love of pleasure, and displayed a boundless luxury against which the laws repeatedly enacted strove in vain. And the people also, since there was no country of which Rome stood in awe, began to lose its old energy and to be gradually depraved by the love of enjoyment, recklessness, and idleness.

Certainly there was always a party of honourable, independent citizens; but a sunken, impoverished populace who pandered to the nobility gradually gathered about them. The nobles took care to gain the favour of the mob by flattery, festivities, donations of corn, and even by general bribery, so as to rule in the comitium through them, and secure the official posts. It was almost impossible now for a man who was not rich to obtain office.[c]

SLAVES AND FREEMEN

The age of which we have been treating, from the Samnite War to the close of the Punic Wars, was always considered by the Romans, and is still considered by their admirers, to have been the golden age of the republic. A people which handed down the legends of Cincinnatus, Curius, Fabricius, Regulus, can hardly have failed to practise the thrift and honesty which they admired. The characters are no doubt idealised; but they may be taken as types of their times. In the Roman country districts, and still more in the Apennine valleys, the habits of life were no doubt simple, honest, and perhaps rude, of Sabine rather than of Hellenic character, the life of countrymen rather than of dwellers in the town.

It has been remarked that the Italians, like the Greeks, must be regarded as members of cities or civic communities. But the walled towns which were the centres of each community were mostly the residence of the chief men and their dependents and slaves, while the mass of the free citizens were dispersed over the adjoining country district, dwelling on their own farms, and resorting to the town only to bring their produce to market or to take their part in the political business transacted at the general assemblies. Such was the case at Rome in early times. The great patrician lords with their families dwelt in strong houses or castles on the Capitoline, Palatine, and Quirinal hills, while their clients thronged the lower parts adjacent. As the plebeians increased in wealth and power, their great men established themselves at first upon the Cælian and Aventine, and afterwards indiscriminately on all the hills.

In the country districts of Rome the greater part of the land was still in the hands of small proprietors, who tilled their own lands by the aid of their sons and sons-in-law. In the earliest times the dimensions of these plebeian holdings were incredibly small, an allotment being computed at not more than two jugera (about 1¼ acres). Even with very fertile soil and unremitting labour, such a piece of land could barely maintain a family. But to eke out the produce of their tilled lands, every free citizen had a right to feed a certain number of cattle on the common pastures at the expense of a small payment to the state; and in this way even a large family might live in rude abundance. In no long time, however, the plebeian allotments were increased to seven jugera (about 4½ acres); and this increase of tilled lands indicates a corresponding improvement in the habits and comforts of the people--an improvement attributed, as all benefits conferred on the plebeians in early times were attributed, to King Servius. And this long remained the normal size of the small properties then so common in the Roman district. The farm and public pasture produced all that the family required--not only food, but flax and wool, which the matron and her daughters dressed and spun and wove, wood and stone for building and farm implements, everything except metals and salt, which were (as we have seen) state monopolies.

But a golden age generally comes to an end with increase of population. Mouths to be fed multiply; the yeomen sell their little farms and emigrate, or become satisfied with a lower scale of living as hired labourers. The Romans had a remedy for these evils in a home colonisation. The immense quantity of public land in the hands of the state, with the necessity of securing newly-conquered districts of Italy, led to the foundation of numerous colonies between the Samnite and Punic wars, and extended the means of material well-being to every one who was willing and able to work; and this not only for Romans, but for Latins and others, who were invited to become citizens of the colony.

If, however, the superfluous sons of families settled on lands in Samnium, or Apulia, or Cisalpine Gaul, others must have lost these lands; and the question naturally occurs: What had become of these people? This question brings us to the worst point in ancient society--that is, slavery.

It was the practice of ancient nations to regard all conquered persons as completely in the light of booty, as cattle or lifeless goods. If indeed the enemy surrendered without a blow, they became subjects. But those who were taken after a struggle were for the most part sold into slavery. In early times this evil was small. Nor was it to be expected that the small proprietors could afford either to buy or to maintain slaves. They were acquired by the rich patricians and plebeians, who held large tracts of public land, or who had acquired large estates of their own. Before the decemvirate, their debtors were their slaves. But this custom had been long abolished, and it was conquest which supplied slaves to the rich. After the conquest of Samnium, thirty-six thousand persons are said to have been sold. After the reduction of Cisalpine Gaul and Sicily, still larger numbers were brought to the hammer. These were the wretches on whose lands the poorer sort of Roman citizens settled. The slaves may generally be divided into two great classes, the urban or city slaves, and those of the country. They had no civil rights; they could not contract legal marriage; they had no power over their children; they could hold no property in their own name; their very savings were not their own, but held by consent of their master; all law proceedings ran in the name of their masters. For crimes committed, they were tried by the public courts; and the masters were held liable for the damage done, but only to the extent of the slave’s value. To kill, maim, or maltreat a slave was considered as damage to his master, and could only be treated as such. No pain or suffering inflicted on a slave was punishable, unless loss had thereby accrued to the owner.

But human nature is too strong always to fulfil conditions so cruel. There is no doubt that the slaves of the household were often treated with kindness; often they became the confidential advisers of their masters. The steward or bailiff of a rich man’s estate, his _villicus_, was a person of considerable power. Still the mass of the slaves, especially the agricultural slaves, were treated as mere cattle. Some poor drudges were the slaves of other slaves, such ownership being allowed by the masters. Cato recommends to sell off old and infirm slaves, so as to save the expense of keeping live lumber. Englishmen feel a pang at seeing a fine horse consigned in his old age to the drivers of public carriages; but Romans wasted no such sympathy on slaves who had spent their lives and strength in cultivating their lands. Notwithstanding the better treatment of the house slaves, the humane Cicero reproached himself with feeling too much sorrow for one who had been for years his tried and faithful servant. It was in the next half-century, however, that slaves increased so much in Italy as to produce great effect upon the social condition of the people. At present the evil was only in its beginning.

Here it must be remarked that the practice of giving liberty to slaves was very common. The prospect of freedom as a reward for good conduct must have done much to prevent Roman bondsmen from sinking into that state of animal contentment and listless indifference which marked the negro slaves of later times.

The freedmen filled no mean space in Roman society. Among them were to be found able and well-educated men, who had held a high station in their native country, and often obtained great influence over the minds of their masters. Freedmen exercised most branches of retail trade, and formed the shopkeepers and petty traders and artisans of Rome; for Roman citizens, however poor, could in early times condescend to no business except that of agriculture. Rich men carried on trades by means of their slaves and freedmen; in later times freedmen often worked as artists under some patrician roof, and many of the early poets were freedmen.

Here, then, we trace the beginning of a great distinction, that afterwards was more strongly marked, between the population of the city and the population of the country--between the rustic and the civic tribes.[b]

THE ROMAN FAMILY: WOMEN AND MARRIAGE

The Roman woman independent of the marriage tie was placed under the authority of her father or of a guardian.

The father’s authority was absolute. All the members of an ancient Roman family--father, mother, children, and daughters-in-law--made up a close association under one ruler or head. All the wealth which came to a family was thrown into a kind of common stock and formed but one patrimony. The sole head of this association, the one master of the common resources, was the father. Until now we have seen no difference made between the children of the two sexes; paternal power presses with equal weight on the son and on the daughter, and holds them both down to the same level. Besides, the daughter like the son can sign a legal contract; like him she has her share of the family patrimony, a guaranteed share that only a formal disinheritance can take from her. More liberal than the oriental or Greek law, Roman law granted equal rights in the paternal inheritance.

But as soon as the paternal power has disappeared, the legal differences between the two sexes begin to show themselves; the son, if he is of age, becomes independent and master of his actions, the daughter, on the contrary, whatever her age, remains under the power of a guardian.

(From a Statue)]

What was that perpetual guardianship of women which the Romans themselves considered as one of the most fundamental institutions of their law? Was it a protecting guardianship like that of minors? Was it a despotic power like that of the father of a family? Neither one nor the other. To grasp its real character, we must go back to the causes which led to its establishment.

In the almost patriarchal constitution of ancient Rome, the preservation of families was of great public importance and the laws were always made to benefit it. The domestic ties, always so close whilst the head of the family lived, were not broken at his death; the hereditary possessions, whilst they were divided amongst the children, did not the less remain the patrimony of the family; the perpetual worship due to the spirit of the ancestors and to the household gods remained a common debt. But supposing that amongst the children there was a daughter, the hereditary share she was to receive would not be safe in her hands; it was to be feared that one day she would try to enrich the family she had entered at the expense of her own. It was to guard against this danger, it was to perpetuate in each family, together with the preservation of hereditary possessions, the memory of its ancestors and the glory or dignity of the house, that the Romans deprived woman of the free possession of her property and placed her under the perpetual guardianship of her _agnates_. This guardianship was not, then, established in the interest of woman, on account of her weakness and natural incapacity; it was established against her and in the interests of the guardians themselves.

This view, we must admit, has received many contradictions even in antiquity. Cicero, Ulpian, Isidorus de Sevilla, are unanimous in saying if the law has placed women under guardianship, it is on account of the weakness of their sex, their ignorance, their inexperience, their frivolity.

But listen to Gaius, the only writer amongst the ancients who discusses and sifts the question: “The vulgar opinion,” he says, “is that women must be directed by guardians, because their minds are too shallow to govern themselves. This guardianship has been established in the interest of the guardians, so that the women, whose presumptive heirs they are, can neither deprive them of their inheritance by a will, nor cripple it by gifts or by debts.”

Is it necessary to add another proof to the authority of Gaius? Here is one which seems irrefutable. Woman was placed under the paternal power, and, as has been already said, could make a legal contract. Once placed under a guardian, on the contrary, she can no longer contract debts without her guardian’s permission. Why this strange contradiction? Why should woman, capable of acting whilst she is under a father’s authority, become incapable as soon as she is freed from that authority? In the two cases, her frivolity, her weakness are evidently the same; here is the only difference: the daughter under paternal authority has no wants, and in indulging herself she only pledges herself; but the orphan or emancipated girl has a patrimony; if she pleased herself she would engage her patrimony and in this way compromise the inheritance of her family, of her future heirs. This reveals to us the spirit of the law. Woman is placed under a guardian because she has a fortune to leave behind her; it is done to protect her heirs and not to insure her own protection.

It will now be guessed to whom the law gave the guardianship; perhaps only to her next heirs, that is to say to her _agnates_, her nearest relatives; if she were a freed slave, to her masters. For natural guardians it was not an office, but a right--a family possession. They had no accounts to render; if they were infirm, in a state of infancy, idiocy, or insanity, they would still retain their rights to this guardianship, except that in that case it would be executed by deputy. But if they could not be deprived of this right they could resign it, and give it to some one in their place; the legitimate guardian could dispose of his ward by an _in jure cessio_, as he could dispose of his house or field.

The guardian’s authority was not quite similar to the parental authority. Its limits were rigorously determined by the very purpose of guardianship. The guardian had all the power necessary to safeguard the woman’s patrimony, nothing less--but nothing more.

Thus in the first case, his authority only extends to the fortune of the woman, not to her person. He has no control over the conduct of his ward, nor is it his prerogative to watch over her behaviour, or inquire into those of her acts which only affect her personally, and do not touch her fortune. For example, in the matter of marriage, all the pecuniary agreements which so often accompany it have to be authorised by the guardian; his consent is necessary, either to fix the dowry, or for the _conventio in manum_, which involves, as will be seen, a kind of general community of interest. But as for the marriage itself, how can it concern or prejudice the interests of the guardian, since the _agnates_, and not the children of the marriage, will inherit at the woman’s death? Thus the guardian’s authority is not necessary, either for the celebration of the marriage or in the choice of a husband. The woman herself chooses her husband, assisted sometimes, according to her age, by the advice of her mother and of her near relatives. Nor do all pecuniary transactions need the intervention of the guardian. Ulpian has given us the list, and we can separate the different proceedings that he enumerates, into two classes, the informal and the formal. In the first class we only find the alienations of _res mancipi_, either by direct or indirect covenants. _Res mancipi_ were houses, lands, rustic servitude, slaves, beasts of burden--in a word, the soil and what was necessary to cultivate it; these were patrimonial property, and as the mainstay of the family, were placed under the vigilance and care of the guardian, so that their preservation was guaranteed. But besides this inalienable patrimony which she could not touch, the woman still had a large field of administration; she could acquire all sorts of property, dispose of the products of her fields and farm them out, dispose of her money--and thus pay her debts, recover her credit, lend, sell, bargain, and make free gifts.

For the formal proceedings, on the contrary, the law makes no distinctions and the guardian’s authority is always necessary. This will, at first sight, seem so little in harmony with the preceding that an explanation has been sought in considerations foreign to the principles of wardship. It has been said that the formal proceedings which usually took place before the magistrate, or before the witnesses who represented the Roman people, had too much resemblance to political proceedings to be permitted to others than citizens, and since woman was excluded from the comitia, she ought to be excluded from the Forum as well. But it is not true that the law courts were always closed to women, even at the time when all processes were under the form of a _legis-actio_; not only could she appear before the judges accompanied by her guardian, but she could even appear alone, either as a witness or as a representative of some one else--that is to say, whenever her personal interest was not at stake. She could also execute certain formal acts alone, as, for instance, emancipation, when she was under paternal authority; here again, the act could not touch her patrimony, as she had none. These are the cases in which the guardian’s authority was not necessary, although the proceeding was formal and these acts are just those which cannot touch or diminish the patrimony. Is it not, then, permissible to conclude that where the guardian can intervene in such cases, it is not on account of the formalities which surround them, it is because of the alienation they involve?

So far we have only spoken of natural guardians. But there are other kinds of guardians, and the Roman lawyers place the testamentary guardians first.

The father of the family, supreme in his own household, could, as we have already seen, dispose as he liked of the domestic patrimony; a strong reason, if he left a son and a daughter, for depriving the son of all rights of control and of the care of his sister’s hereditary portion, by taking the daughter away from his guardianship. How was this to be accomplished? By making over in his will the guardianship of his daughter to a stranger; this is testamentary guardianship. This guardianship almost amounted to independence for the woman, the testamentary guardian being a stranger to the family and having no right of succession to his ward’s property. What interest would he have in preventing her from disposing of her fortune as she pleased? To allow the father to choose a guardian for his daughter was really to allow his daughter to be free of all real and efficacious tutelage. We stop here, and will not tell how testamentary guardianship served as a model to the other kinds of wardships, how by the usurpation of these different nominal guardians the real guardianship, that of the family, was little by little restricted and undermined. We should be no longer describing this institution--we should be telling of its decay and downfall.

No legislators have better defined marriage than have those of ancient Rome. “It is the union of two lives, the blending of two inheritances, a common interest in everything religious and temporal.” In this ancient notion of marriage we find the two principles which are the foundation of Christian and modern marriage--the indissolubility of the bond and monogamy.

We found in Greece something of oriental polygamy. In Italy, on the contrary, monogamy is as ancient as the foundation of Rome. It entered so deeply into the habits of the Romans that when later they introduced into the constitution a freer form of conjugal union, concubinage, they considered it, like legitimate marriage, under the law of monogamy. And this law could not be eluded, as at Athens, by the legitimisation of natural children. The ancient Roman law always excluded the natural children from the family circle. It admitted no legitimisation nor recognition; and that illegitimacy might not be hidden under the mask of adoption, such adoption was itself subject to an investigation by the pontiffs and the ratification of the entire people.

The principle of monogamy had its natural complement in the indissolubility of marriage, for marriage with a possible divorce is, as has been said, but a progressive polygamy. Marriage in ancient Rome was indissoluble. Doubtless this indissolubility is not written in the law. Roman legislation would not, as we have seen, touch family independence, nor tighten by legal constraint ties that natural affection had formed. But if divorce is authorised by the law, it is forbidden by religion and custom; the man who repudiates his wife is branded by the censor, he is excommunicated by the priest, and can only atone for his fault by sacrificing a portion of his worldly wealth at the altar of the divinities that presided at his union. This moral sanction was much more efficacious than the laws ever were. Divorce was not illegal, but morally it was impossible; and all the writers of antiquity agree in saying that they have only heard of one during five centuries.

It is sufficient to remember these two fundamental principles, which are as old as Rome--namely, monogamy and the indissolubility of marriage--to show the value of the vulgar opinion which represents marital power in ancient Rome as the most odious of all tyrannies. It is difficult to believe that the husband was a despot and the wife a slave, where an inviolable fidelity was the reciprocal duty of the two; and a closer study will convince us that a Roman marriage was a real union in which the husband’s authority did not exclude the independence of the wife. But to be certain in what this independence consisted, two kinds of marriage must be distinguished. Sometimes the wife, though married, lived at home under the authority of her father, or the guardianship of her _agnates_; sometimes these ties were broken by marriage and the wife went, according to the technical expression, _in manum mariti_, and had no other family than her husband’s. This last kind of marriage is without doubt the more ancient. The antiquity of its origin is revealed in the particular customs that went with it, and which are found, almost identically the same, in the most ancient legislations. It is then most probable that during the first centuries of Rome, the _manus mariti_ was the inevitable result of marriage. From the day the newly married couple had offered a joint sacrifice to the divinities in the nuptial chamber, the wife had no other family _agnates_ or heirs than her husband and his relatives. What became of the wife’s former family ties, the rights of the _agnates_ to her guardianship and to her inheritance? Marriage had destroyed them forever. But in this there was a danger to which the legislators had soon to give their attention. The guardians of the wife cannot have been very ready to consent to a marriage which deprived them of all their rights, and without their consent marriage was impossible. Could they have been compelled to give up their rights? But these rights were sacred to the guardians of the family interest; for them it was a duty to prevent the patrimony of their ancestors from passing into the hands of strangers. To satisfy all conflicting claims, the ancient principle had to be entirely altered. Two things had to be separated which until then had seemed inseparable--marriage and the _manus_, that is to say, the change of family. Side by side with the ancient marriage accompanied by the regular formalities, a new marriage was devised which was contracted simply by consent and left the wife in her family under the guardianship of her _agnates_. The consent of the guardians was always necessary for the ancient marriage with _manus_; but it was not required for the marriage pure and simple, which left the rights of the _agnates_ intact. This revolution in the family usage was already accomplished, or nearly so, at the time of the laws of the Twelve Tables.

For the rest, the introduction of a new form of marriage did not insure the abandonment of the old, for both could in diverse cases in turn satisfy the same need. If the wife, at the time of her marriage, was not under a guardian, but under the parental authority, that is to say without patrimony, the _conventio in manum_ could only benefit the _agnates_; for it was equivalent to the compact of renunciation, which, in ancient French law, so often accompanied marriage contracts. Thus, the same interest, that of preserving the patrimonial wealth, caused the introduction for the heiress of the marriage without _manus_, and maintained the marriage with _manus_ for the daughter who had not already inherited.[d]

RELIGION

The religion of Rome was, as the legends show, of Sabine origin. Much of its ceremonial, the names of many of its gods, were Etruscan; and Hellenic mythology began, at an early time, to mingle itself in the simple religious faith of the Sabine countrymen. The important question in the history of all religions is, how far they exert power over the lives of their professors. That the old faith of Rome was not without such power in the times of which we speak is unquestionable. The simple Roman husbandman lived and died, like his Sabine ancestors, in the fear of the gods; he believed that there was something in the universe higher and better than himself; that by these higher powers his life and actions were watched; that to these powers good deeds and an honest life were pleasing, evil deeds and bad faith hateful. The principles thus established remained, as is confirmed by the weighty testimony of Polybius, delivered in a later and more corrupt age. “If,” says he, “you lend a single talent to a Greek, binding him by all possible securities, yet he will break faith. But Roman magistrates, accustomed to have immense sums of money pass through their hands, are restrained from fraud simply by respect for the sanctity of an oath.”[b]

The primitive religion of the Italians, in its essential or fundamental beliefs resembled that of other Indo-European nations. They adored the forces of nature, favourable or otherwise, and imagined them animated living beings, of different sexes, their rivality producing the struggles of the elements, and their union explaining the external fecundity of the world. This was also the basis of the Greek religion, but the Italian religion bore the impression of the nations who had made it. These nations were as a rule grave, sensible, prudent, and much absorbed by the miseries of this life and the dangers of the future. As they were inclined rather more towards fear than hope, they respected their gods a great deal, but feared them more, and their worship consisted more especially of humble petitions and rigorous mortifications.

Their imaginations wanted in richness and brilliance, they never therefore created anything like the rich development of the poetic legends so much admired in the Greeks. Their legends are poor and simple; springing from the hard life of agricultural labour, their character is often strangely prosaic; they are especially wanting in variety; in different times the same stories are found applied to different gods. The hero who founded or was the benefactor of the town was as a rule a child of marvellous birth, son of the god Lar, and begotten near the family hearth, sometimes by a spark from the fire. When he is young a miracle reveals his future greatness. This miracle is everywhere the same; it is a flame which burns around his head without consuming him. During his life he is wise, pious, and good; he makes good laws and teaches men to respect the gods and justice. After a few useful deeds he disappears suddenly, “he ceases to be seen,” without it being possible to say how he vanished. Doubtless he has gone to lose himself in the bosom of the great divinity from which everything emanates here below, he becomes part of this divinity, he loses his mortal name and from henceforth takes the one of the god with which he is absorbed. Thus Æneas, after his disappearance, was honoured under the name of _Jupiter Indiges_ and Latinus as _Jupiter Latinus_.

Italy was thus not very rich in religious stories; the mixture of Italian races, that gave birth to Rome, was poorer still. Rome was content to accept the beliefs of the different nations which composed her by trying to unite them and making them agree; it did not seem necessary to create new ones. The only innovation which was made was inscribing on kinds of registers, called _Indigitamenta_, the list of gods that are affected by each event in a man’s life, from his conception until his death, and those that look after his most indispensable needs, such as food, dwelling, and clothing. They were placed in regular order, with a few explanations as to their names and the prayers which had to be offered up to them. The gods of the _Indigitamenta_ have an exclusive and entire Roman character. Without doubt in other countries the need has been felt of placing the principal acts of life under divine protection, but as a rule gods are chosen for this purpose who are known, powerful, and tried, in order to be sure that their help will be efficacious. In Greece, the great Athene, or the wise Hermes, is invoked in order that a child may be clever and learned. In Rome, special gods were preferred, created for that purpose and for no other use; there is one who makes a child utter his first cry, and one who makes him speak his first word, neither have another use, and are only invoked for this occasion. They seldom have another name but the one their special functions give them, as if to show that they had no real existence besides the act over which they preside.

Their competency is very limited; the simplest action gives birth to several divinities. When a child is weaned there is one who teaches him how to eat, another to teach him to drink, a third makes him lie still in his little bed. When he commences to walk, four goddesses protect his first steps, two accompany him when he leaves his home, and two bring him back when he returns. The lists were thus endless and the names became indefinitely multiplied.

The fathers of the Catholic Church were much amused at “this population of little gods condemned to such small uses,” and compare them to workmen who divide the work amongst themselves in order that it may be more quickly done. For all this it is curious to study them; they are, after all, the original gods of Rome. Rome had not yet undergone the sovereign influence of Greece when the pontiffs drew up the _Indigitamenta_, and the remains that are left to us of the sacred registers can alone teach us what idea the Romans had of divinity and how they understood religious sentiment.

What is most striking at first is how all these gods seem without life. They have no history attached to them and not even a legend has been given them. All that is known of them is that at a certain crisis they must be prayed to and they can then render service. Once that moment passes, they are forgotten. They do not possess real names; those given to them do not distinguish them individually, but only indicate the function they fulfil. As a rule this name is in the form of an epithet; from this it is probable that it was not always employed alone, and that at first it was a simple emblem. It can be concluded with a great deal of apparent truth that originally the name described a powerful divinity, or even the divinity in general, the father all-powerful, as he was called so long as he limited his action to a special purpose. Thus the two gods Vaticanus and Fabulinas would be no other than the divinity itself, even when it watches over the first cries and first steps of the child.

The gods were not quite so numerous in the first ages, and it was then necessary to give each of them many more functions. These attributes were expressed, as in Christian litanies, by epithets, the list of which, more or less lengthy according to the importance of the god, followed after his name. As each invocation appealed to one of the faculties, and not to the power of the god, the epithet was practically much more important than the name and was employed alone. Soon the relationship between the name and the qualifications which existed primitively was forgotten or lost and then the epithets became divine. Thus the different functions of one god ended by being attached to independent gods. It was at the time of these changes that the _Indigitamenta_ were drawn up. They are interesting to us, as they make us grasp Roman polytheism just when it is being formed, but they also show us that it is an unfinished polytheism. After creating all these gods, Rome did not know how to make them life-like. They remained vague, undecided, floating; they never attained, as the Greek gods, precise forms with distinct features. This, besides, is the general character of the Roman religion, and the gods of Rome always resembled those of the _Indigitamenta_.

The Italian religion was always more respectful and timid than the Greek. The Roman remained at a farther distance from his gods, he dared not approach them, he would have been afraid to look at them. If the Roman veiled his face when accomplishing religious duties, it was not, as Virgil says, because he was afraid of having his attention taken off what he was doing, but in order not to risk seeing the god he is praying to. He solicits his presence, he likes to know that he is near him, listening to his vows in order to grant them, but he would have been frightened if he had seen him. “Deliver us,” says Ovid in his prayer to Pallas, “from seeing the dryads or Diana’s bath, or Faunus when he runs across the fields in the daytime”; and until the end of paganism the Roman peasant was very afraid, when returning home in the evening, of meeting a Faun in his path. The result of this timidity of the Italians, who did not dare look at the gods in the face, is that they saw them vaguely. They have not got clear outlines, and are represented rather by symbols than by images; here Mars is adored under the form of a lance struck in the ground, in another place a simple stone represents the great Jupiter.

According to Varro, Rome remained 170 years without statues; the idea of placing them in the temples came from abroad. It was to imitate Etruria that a painted wooden Jupiter was placed in the Capitol; on the eve of festivals they gave him a coat of paint for him to appear in all his glory. These ancient customs were never quite lost, they were preserved in the country, where the peasants honoured the gods by covering old trunks of trees with bands, and in piously pouring oil on blocks of stone. At Rome, even whilst all the temples were being filled by Grecian masterpieces the antique Vesta would not allow a single statue in her sanctuary; she was only represented by the sacred flame which was never put out.

It is probable, then, that if Rome had not known Greece, anthropomorphism would have stopped short. The Roman has an instinctive repugnance to making his gods beings too much like us; to him they are not real persons, having an individual existence, but only divine manifestations, _numina_; and this name by which he calls them indicates perfectly the idea he has of them. Every time the divinity seems to reveal itself to the world in some manner (and as he is very religious, he believes he sees him everywhere), he notes with care this new revelation, gives it a name and worships it. These gods he creates every minute are nothing else but divine acts, and that is why they are so numerous.

No other nation has ever possessed such a vast Pantheon; and these words can be applied to the whole of Italy, that a writer of the imperial epoch lends to a woman of the Campania: “Our country is so peopled with divinities that it is much easier to meet a god than a man.” This is also the reason why the Romans more than any other nation had a taste for divinised abstractions. As in reality all their gods, even the greatest, are only divine qualities or attributes and as they always preserve to some extent their abstract character, it is not surprising that the habit was soon formed of introducing simple abstractions in their company. This is a custom as a rule only introduced into religions when they become old, but in Rome we notice it from the most ancient times. Tullus Hostilius built a temple to Fear and to Pallidness; and Salvation or Prosperity of the Roman nation was early a divinity much worshipped.

Later many exaggerations were made in this manner. During the empire all the ventures of the emperors were worshipped and statues were raised to the Security of the Century and to the Indulgence of the Master. These strange personifications, which would never have entered the mind of a Greek, were the result of the manner in which the Romans of all times conceived divinity. Polytheism was formed by them by way of an abstract analysis and not, as in Greece, by a kind of outburst of imagination and enthusiasm. They always remained faithful to this method, and to the end placed in the sky abstractions rather than living beings.

This nation, so timid, scrupulous, scared, that to protect a man one felt the need of surrounding him by gods from his birth to his death, that had such a deep respect for divinity, thinking to meet it everywhere, seemed to be the prey of every superstition.

The fathers of the Catholic Church have compared the institutions of Numa, with their minute and multiplied proscriptions, to Mosaic law. The Romans, who prided themselves on following them to the letter, could be exposed to becoming absolutely like the Jews; and one asks how it is that, amongst such a devoted people, religious authority did not end by dominating over all others. What preserved them from this fate was their great political instinct.

No other nation has ever been so taken up as have the Romans with the importance of the rights of the state, and everything was sacrificed to that--their oldest customs and their dearest prejudices. It was a general belief amongst them that dead persons became gods and protected those nearest to them, and were as close as possible to those they should save; they were buried in the house and thus became good spirits. One day, however, the law ordained, by reason of hygiene, that nobody should be buried within the precincts of the towns, and everybody obeyed this law. This example shows that in Rome nothing could resist civil power; paternal authority, in spite of the extent of its rights, gave way before it.

The father of the family is the absolute master of his children; he can sell or kill his child, but if his son is in public office the father has to obey him like the others, and when he meets him on his path he must get off his horse to let him pass.

Roman religion, so powerful, so respected as it was, had to submit to the same yoke. It was thus subject to the state, or rather was blended to it. What most aided religion to attain this result was the manner in which it recruited its priests. “Our ancestors,” says Cicero, “were never wiser nor more surprised by the gods than when they decided that the same persons would preside over religion and govern the republic. It was by this means that the magistrates and pontiffs fulfilling their duties with wisdom, agreed together to save the state.” In Rome, religious functions were not separated from political ones, and there was nothing incompatible between them.

Any one could act as pontiff in the same time as consul and for the same motives. Those who wished to become such were never required to possess any special knowledge; it was sufficient for attaining these duties to have served his country in the deliberating assemblies or the battle-field. Those that obtained them did not, whilst exercising them, take a narrow and exclusive attitude, so common to sacerdotal castes; they continued to mix with the world, they sat in the senate in the same time as in the great colleges of priests of which they formed a member; their new functions, far from taking them away from the government of their countries, gave them more right to take part in it.

These soldiers, politicians, men of business in Rome, gave to religious things that cold, practical sense which they gave to everything else. It is thanks to them that a laic undercurrent always circulated in Roman religion, that during the whole duration of the republic and of the empire no conflict ever broke out between it and the state; and that the government of Rome, in spite of all the demonstrations of piety which it lavished, never threatened to become a theocracy.[g]

TREATMENT OF OTHER NATIONS

But while morality, good faith, and self-denial prevailed among themselves, it is clear that the Romans laid no such restrictions upon their dealings with other nations. This great defect is common to Rome with all antiquity. The calmest Greek philosopher, Aristotle, regarded barbarians as naturally the slaves of the Greeks. International law was unknown, except in certain formalities observed in declaring war and making peace, and in the respect paid to the persons of ambassadors. This absence of common humanity and generosity to foreigners appears in many pages of this history, in none more strongly than in that which records the treatment of the Samnite leader C. Pontius. Gleams of better feeling appear in the war with Pyrrhus; the chivalric character of the king awakened something of a kindred spirit in the stern and rigid Romans. But nothing could be more ungenerous than the conduct of Rome to Carthage, after the Mercenary War; and still baser pieces of diplomacy occur in the subsequent dealings of the senate with the Achæans and with Carthage.

THE FINE ARTS

If Hellenic forms of thought and speech invaded the domain of literature, much more was this the case with the arts of design. There are not wanting examples to show that before this time sculpture and painting were held in honour at Rome. The consul Carvilius (in 293 B.C.) employed part of the spoils taken from the Samnites in setting up a colossal bronze statue on the Capitoline. A quadriga, executed in terra-cotta by an Etruscan artist, is ascribed to the same date. Statues were erected in the Forum to honour divers great men of olden time. Many temples were built in thanksgiving for victories, most of which were adorned by Etruscan or Greek artists. The temple of Salus was ornamented about 305 B.C. by paintings from the hand of that C. Fabius who adopted the name of Pictor and transmitted it as an honour to his family. The Ogulnii, in their ædileship (296 B.C.), set up in the Capitol a bronze group representing the wolf suckling the twins. A painting of the battle in which the Romans defeated Hiero in 263 adorned the walls of the senate house.

Of these works, and others not recorded by history, no trace remains except the famous wolf now preserved in the Capitoline Museum. The twins are a later addition, but the animal is probably the original work noticed by Cicero and Livy. It bears the well-known marks of the archaic Greek art in the sharp, rigid forms of the limbs and muscles, the peculiar expression of the face, and the regular knots of hair about the neck and head. Here, then, we trace Hellenic artists at Rome. Others of the works mentioned are expressly assigned to Etruscan artists; and it may be remarked that Fabius, the only native artist of whom we hear, belonged to a family always associated in history with Etruscans.

But when Rome had conquered southern Italy, she was brought at once in contact with works of the finest Greek art. No coins of old Greece are so beautiful as those of her colonial settlements in the west; and it is in the coins of Rome, strange to remark, that we first trace the indisputable effect of Greek art.

Up to the time when Italy was conquered, the Romans had used only copper money of a most clumsy and inconvenient kind. A pound of this metal by weight was stamped with the rude effigy of a ship’s prow, and this was the original as or libra. Gradually the as was reduced in weight till, in the necessities of the Second Punic War, it became only one-sixth of the libra by weight; yet it retained its ancient name, just as the pound sterling of silver, originally equivalent to a pound Troy-weight, is now not more than one-third, or as the French _livre_ is a much smaller fraction of that weight.[72] But even this diminished coin was clumsy for use, as trade increased with increasing empire. After the conquest of southern Italy the precious metals became more plentiful, and the coinage of the conquered cities supplied beautiful models. The first denarius, or silver piece of ten asses, was struck in the year 269 B.C., and is evidently imitated from the coins of Magna Græcia. The Roman generals who commanded in these districts stamped money for the use of their armies with the old insignia of the conquered cities. The workmanship is, indeed, inferior to the best specimens of Hellenic coins, but far superior to anything Roman, before or after. Gold coins of similar model were not struck till near the close of the Hannibalic War (205 B.C.). The great mass of Roman coins which we possess belongs to the last century of the republic. They usually bear the family emblems of the person who presided over the mint, or of the consuls for whose use they were struck; but the execution always remained rude and unattractive.

(After Hope)]

Afterwards, Roman conquest gave the means of supplying works of art by the easier mode of appropriation. In the conquest of Etruria, years before, the practice had been begun; from Volsinii alone we read that two thousand statues were brought to Rome. In following years Agrigentum, Syracuse, Corinth, and other famous cities, sent the finest works of Hellenic art to decorate the public buildings and public places of the barbarous city of the Tiber, or in many cases to ornament the villas of the rapacious generals.

In the more intellectual even of the useful arts the Romans made no great progress. The contrivances of Archimedes for the defence of Syracuse struck them with amazement. In Cicero’s time they usually carried the sciences of quantity and magnitude no further than was necessary for practical arithmetic and mensuration. In 293 B.C. L. Papirius Cursor the younger set up a sun-dial at Rome, and thirty years later another was brought from Sicily by the consul M. Valerius Messalla; but no one knew how to place them, so as to make the shadow of the gnomon an index of time. A water-clock, resembling our sand-glass, was not introduced till 159 B.C.

Nor were the common conveniences of life in an advanced state. Up to the year 264 the houses were commonly roofed with shingles of wood, like the Alpine cottages of our days; then first earthen tiles began to supersede this rude material. Agriculture must have been roughly carried on by men who were as much soldiers as countrymen. The wine of Latium was so bad that Cineas, when he tasted it, said--and the witticism was remembered--“he did not wonder that the mother of such wine was hung so high”; alluding to the Italian custom, still retained, of training the vine up elms and poplars, while in Greece it was trained (as in France and Germany) on short poles and exposed to all the heat of the sun.