THE WORLD AT THE ADVENT. 197 



be at the world's end. If vanquished nations are still ruled by their 

 kings and laws, it is by the sufferance of the people. These were their 

 conquests, and these are the objects of their control." These fair 

 words were designed not to convey but to conceal the truth. The sem- 

 blance and the semblance only of freedom remained with the Senate 

 and citizens. One man was Rome — one man was the world. His ti- 

 tles were High Priest, Censor, Tribune, Proconsul, Emperor, and in a 

 Roman's eyes scarcely higher than the last, God. He had all titles 

 of power, and no title was a sinecure. He could afford to tell the peo- 

 ple they were free. 



A splendor, not entirely his due, has been thrown around Augustus. 

 His age was pre-eminently one of Literature and the Arts. The sweet 

 song of Virgil, the polished wit of Horace, the elevated taste and muni- 

 ficence of Mecaenas, have not been without their effect, in ennobling the 

 Emperor under whose reign and in whose court they flourished. Au- 

 gustus himself was a judicious critic and an excellent writer. So atten- 

 tive was he to accuracy of expression, that even in discussing a subject 

 of importance with his own wife, he would write down every word and 

 read it to her. His encouragement of Literature and the Fine Arts was 

 munificent. He looked for men who presented in the greatness of their 

 intellect — God's patent of nobility. Mecaenas, his favorite, has left a 

 name forever equivalent to patron of the Arts. The witty, pithy, and 

 shrewd Horace comes, to hear from his condescending Emperor re- 

 proaches for writing such little volumes, which Augustus declares pro- 

 ceeds from his fear, lest his books should be bigger than himself, for 

 Horace, like all jolly fellows, past the memory of man, was short, fat 

 and round. Horace was troubled with a flowing from the eyes. Virgil 

 had the asthma. The monarch sitting down pleasantly between them, 

 now turning to Horace with his swimming eyes, and Virgil with his 

 wheezing breath, would rally them by saying " that he sat between 

 sighs and tears." 



In the character of Augustus, we may doubtless find one reason for the 

 general diffusion of literature, the noblest literature, for it includes the 

 Greek, which the world has ever seen. The arts in their perfection 

 with the most subtle and comprehensive philosophy, found their way 

 into lands where they had not been before. 



But with all these splendid and deceptive considerations we must not 

 forget that the power of Augustus was based upon murder. Cicero was 

 killed by one of the Triumvirate, of which Augustus was a member. 

 Among his successful soldiers were divided the finest lands of Italy. Three 

 hundred senatois of Perusia, after its surrender, were slaughtered as sac- 



