ページの画像
PDF
ePub

these necessary outlets, which, for the conveniency of the city, must often be defiled by impurities. But the triumphal gate, which was destined solely for admitting into the city a most venerable religious procession, needed not to be included under this law; and that it certainly was not, appeared from what happened respecting the honours which it was proposed to bestow on the memory of Augustus. Tiberius rejected these, however, as offensive to religion; to which the proposition of making a dead body pass through the triumphal gate was reckoned as contrary as that of collecting the bones of Augustus by the hands of priests, and of determining the age or century by the length of his life. It belonged to the gods alone to mark by prodigies the duration of each period. 4. The supposed identity of the two gates, whose resemblance is very striking, perfectly explains the institution of Numa, and the reason why Janus was open in war and shut in peace. The contrary symbols might appear more natural. A free and open access to a city bespeaks the security of peace. Amidst the fear and distrust occasioned by war against neighbouring enemies, the shutting of the gates is employed as the most natural means of defence. But by the institution of Numa, the gates of war were opened, because they were the gates of glory; and they continued open, to admit the small number of great men, who were entitled to pass through them. They were, on the other

* Sueton. in Aug. C. 100. Tacit. Annal. I. 8.

hand,

hand, shut when the return of peace shut up the triumphal road. Among the Romans, indeed, this road was rarely interrupted. For the ceremony of shutting Janus required not merely an actual peace, which the Romans often enjoyed, but an inclination also in the senate to render that peace lasting; an inclination which that body testified only during the tranquil reigns of Numa and Augustus, and during that period of national weakness which was occasioned by the first Punic

war.

ON THE TRIUMPHAL SHOWS AND

CEREMONIES.

It is here necessary to pause. This chapter might become a volume. We may commit to antiquaries the care of describing the triumphal show; the victims, sacrifices, vases of gold and silver, and crowns. I shall dwell on one circumstance alone, more deserving the attention of a philosopher, because by it this institution is honourably distinguished from those vain and fatiguing solemnities which create nothing but weariness or contempt. The triumph converted the spectators into actors, by shewing to them objects great, real, and which could not fail to move their affections.

The most brilliant shows in courts, the carousals of Lewis XIV.. or the festivities of the Duke of Wurtemberg, attested the wealth, and sometimes the taste, of princes. We may throw a glance ea

them,

them, to remark the state of arts and manners in a certain age or country; but our eyes are soon tired or disgusted by perceiving that these immense expenses are consumed in relieving the languor or gratifying the vanity of one man. I perceive crowds of courtiers indifferent, or yawning, or wretchedly occupied in concealing, under the mask of pleasure, their inward uneasiness. I hear the loud complaints of a whole people; who have felt, in an expensive hunting-match, the desolation of a province; and can trace, in a gilded dome, the marks of an hundred cottages, overwhelmed by the weight of taxes. From such objects I remove my attention with horror. The ceremonies of religion, when presented to mankind in a venerable garb, ought powerfully to interest their affections; but their influence cannot be completely felt, unless the spectators have a firm faith in the theological system on which they are founded; and unless they also feel in themselves that particular disposition of mind which lays it open to religious terrors. Such ceremonies, when they are not viewed with respect, are beheld with the contempt excited by the most ridiculous pantomime.

In the triumph, every circumstance was great and interesting. To receive its full impression, it was enough to be a man and a Roman. With the eyes of citizens, the spectators saw the image, or rather the reality of the public glory. The treasures which were carried in procession, the most precious monuments of art, the bloody spoils of the enemy, exhibited a faithful picture of the war,

and

and illustrated the importance of the conquest. A silent but forcible language instructed the Romans in the exploits and valour of their countrymen: symbols chosen with taste shewed to them the cities, rivers, mountains, the scenes of their national enterprize, and even the gods of their prostrate enemies, subdued under the majesty of Capitoline Jupiter. Under the impression of recent and manifest favours, pride, curiosity, and devotion warmed into one strong and prevailing passion of enthusiasm. Sometimes sentiments more tender penetrated the citizen's heart, when he beheld a son, a brother, or a friend, escaped from the dangers of war, following the triumphal chariot, and crowned with the rewards of his valour. The general's glory was not confined within the narrow sphere of his own family and friends. It redounded to the honour of every citizen, who rejoiced at the new dignity thereby acquired to the Roman name; and who remembered, perhaps, that his own vote had helped to raise to the consulship the great man, whose merit he had the discernment to perceive, and whom he had the disin terestedness to prefer to all his rivals.

When the citizen cast his eye on the vanquished kings dragged in triumph, his own pride triumphed at once over them and insulted humanity. But if a sentiment of compassion overcame his stern prejudices, and he melted at the sight of a fallen monarch, and his innocent children still unconscious of their misfortune, his tenderness must have been rewarded

rewarded with that delightful pleasure with which nature repays such tears.

The lot of those unfortunate princes is but too well known. Victims of state-policy and Roman pride, they ended a shameful captivity by an ignominious death, which had been delayed only by their disgrace of being led in triumph. In the conduct of the Romans towards them, there was however a singular capriciousness, which it is not easy to explain. Of this, the following is a memorable example. After the triumph of Paulus Emilius for the conquest of Macedon, the senate banished Perseus to Alba Facetia, in the territory of the Marsi, supplied him with every comfort that can be enjoyed without liberty, and honoured his remains with the pomp of a public funeral. This treatment was totally the reverse of that experienced by the unhappy Jugurtha, who expired in a dungeon, after enduring the torments of hunger and despair; torments the more horrible in his forlorn and solitary state, unrelieved by the hope of glory, the presence of spectators, or the show of a public execution, which, while it frightens, fortifies the mind. What was the reason for making this difference? Both princes were sworn enemies of the Roman name, and each was stained with the blood of a brother who had been a friend to the Romans. To these crimes Perseus had added the assassination of a king allied to the senate, and an attempt to poison the Roman ambassadors. But Perseus was a monument of the virtue of the republic. With him was associated the idea of a glorious

« 前へ次へ »