The Roman Poets of the Augustan Age: Virgil Part 31

'This way and that dividing the swift mind;'

but the process generally ends in the adoption, without any weighing of conflicting duties or probabilities, of the obvious course indicated by some supernatural sign. The soliloquies of Dido are to be regarded rather as pa.s.sionate outbursts of prayer to some unknown avenging power than as communings with her own heart. The single soliloquy, if it may be called such, which brings the speaker nearer to us in knowledge and sympathy, is the proud and stately address in which Mezentius seems to make the horse, which had borne him victorious through every former war, a partaker of his sorrow and his forebodings-

Rhaebe, diu, res si qua diu mortalibus ulla est, Viximus(636), etc.

But not only are the media through which Virgil brings his personages before us less varied and flexible than those of Homer, but the characters themselves are more tamely conceived, and less capable of awakening human interest. And this is especially true of the character of Aeneas as contrasted with those of Achilles and of Odysseus. The general conception of Aeneas is indeed in keeping with the religious idea of the Aeneid. He is intended to be an embodiment of the courage of an ancient hero, the justice of a paternal ruler, the mild humanity of a cultivated man living in an age of advanced civilisation, the saintliness of the founder of a new religion of peace and pure observance, the affection for parent and child, which was one of the strongest instincts in the Italian race. A life-like impersonation of such an ideal would have commanded the reverence of all future times. Yet at no time has the character of Aeneas excited any strong human interest. No later poet or moralist set it up, as Horace sets up the characters of Achilles and of Ulysses, as a subject of ethical contemplation. Ovid in the deepest gloom of his exile retains enough of his old levity to jest at his single lapse from saintly perfection-

Et tamen ille tuae felix Aeneidos auctor Contulit in Tyrios arma virumque toros(637).

As compared with the hero of the Odyssey, Aeneas is altogether wanting in energy, spontaneity, intellectual resource, and insight. The single quality in which he is strong is endurance. The principle which enables him to fulfil his mission is expressed in the line-

Quidquid erit, superanda omnis fortuna ferendo est(638).

His courage in battle springs from his confidence in his destiny-

Tum socios maestique metum solatur Iuli Fata docens(639).

One of the few touches of nature which redeem his character from tameness is the momentary feeling of the rage of battle roused by the resistance of Lausus-

saevae iamque altius irae Dardanio surgunt ductori(640).

The occasion in which he seems most worthy of his place as a leader of men is after the death of Mezentius, where the self-restraint of his address contrasts favourably with the intemperate ardour expressed in some of the speeches of Turnus-

Maxima res effecta, viri: timor omnis abesto(641).

He appears as a pa.s.sive recipient both of the devotion and of the reproaches of Dido. He undergoes no pa.s.sionate struggle in resigning her.

The courtesy and kindliness of his nature elicit no warmer expression of regret than the words-

nec me meminisse pigebit Elissae, Dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regit artus(642).

The only exercise of thought required of him is the right interpretation of an omen, or the recollection of some dubious prediction at some critical moment. Even the strength of affection which he feels and which he awakens in the hearts of his father and son does not move us in the way in which we are touched by the feelings which unite Odysseus to Penelope and Telemachus, to Laertes and the mother who meets him in the shades, and tells him that she had 'died neither by the painless arrows of Artemis nor by wasting disease'-

???? e s?? te p???? s? te ?dea, fa?d?' ?d?sse?, s? t' ??a??f??s??? e???d?a ???? ?p???a(643).

The failure of Aeneas to excite a lively personal interest is not to be attributed solely to a failure of power in the poet's imagination. In the part he plays he is conceived of as one chosen by the supreme purpose of the G.o.ds, as an instrument of their will, and thus necessarily unmoved by ordinary human impulses. In the words of M. de Coulanges, 'Sa vertu doit etre une froide et haute impersonnalite, qui fa.s.se de lui, non un homme, mais un instrument des dieux(644).' The strength required in such an instrument is the strength of faith, submission, patience, and endurance; and it is with this strength that Aeneas encounters the many dangers and vicissitudes to which he is exposed, and withdraws from the allurements of ease and pleasure. The very virtues of his character act as a check rather than as a stimulus to those natural impulses out of which the most living impersonations are formed. To compare great things in art with what are not so great, the impression produced by the superiority of Aeneas to ordinary pa.s.sion is like the impression produced by the superior tolerance and enlightenment of some of Scott's heroes, when contrasted with the more animated impulses and ruder fanaticism of the other personages in his story. That he is, on the one hand, the pa.s.sive receptacle of Divine guidance, and, on the other, the impersonation of a modern ideal of humanity, playing a part in a rude and turbulent time, are the two main causes of the tame and colourless character of the protagonist of the Aeneid. And as loyalty to a leader is the sole form of political, as distinct from patriotic virtue which Virgil acknowledges, the other Trojan chiefs-the faithful Achates, the speaker Idomeneus, the more martial figures of Mnestheus and Serestus-do little more than play the part of the ???e??? or of the ??f? p??s?pa in a Greek tragedy. The interest awakened by Anchises arises solely from the halo of sacred a.s.sociations investing him. Iulus, as the eponymous ancestor of the Iulii, seems to be a favourite of the author; yet he fails to interest us as a youth of high spirit and promise. Telemachus we know and sympathise with in his rising rebellion against the insolence of the suitors-

??? d' ?te d? ??a? e??, ?a? ????? ???? ??????

p??????a?, ?a? d? ?? ???eta? ??d??? ????(645),

in his longing for the return of his father to redress his wrongs, in his kindly hospitality, and sense of the outraged honour of his house-

?eess??? d' ??? ???

?e???? d??? ????s?? ?fest?e?(646).

That Iulus fails to awaken a similar interest, that we do not share his ardour in the chase or the glow of pride with which he lays his first enemy low, is due to the fact that the poet's imagination fails in the vital realisation of his conception.

Most of the minor characters who appear in the Aeneid require no a.n.a.lysis.

Creusa, Anna, and Andromache are vague impersonations of womanly tenderness and fidelity of affection. Lavinia, the shadowy Helen of the story, appears only for a moment, and though she is described by images suggestive of beauty and of a delicate nurture-

mixta rubent ubi lilia multa Alba rosa(647),

we are left without the knowledge by which to measure the extent of the wrong done to her and Turnus by the enforced severance of their affections. Amata exhibits the blind animal rage of a mother whose affections have been outraged, but her figure wants the firm outlines and substance of the Hecuba of the Iliad. The prophetic office of Helenus enables him to advance the action of the story by preparing the mind of Aeneas for his immediate future: the jealous interference of Iarbas accelerates the doom of Dido: Acestes performs the part of a kindly host to the Trojans in Sicily. But of any individual traits of character they exhibit no trace whatever. Drances serves as a vehicle of impa.s.sioned oratory, and as a kind of foil to the generous impulsiveness of Turnus-just as the timid craft of Arruns is a foil to the splendid rashness of Camilla;-and perhaps he is not much less real to our imaginations than Polydamus, who is the only personage of the Iliad that we think of rather as the embodiment of an abstract quality,-moderation,-than as a living man. But in the delineation of Drances there is no sign of that power which, by a few graphic strokes of description and the force of dramatic insight, has made Thersites stand forth for all times as the type of an envious and ign.o.ble demagogue.

Though there is more effort of thought in the delineation of Latinus as swayed to and fro by his religious sense of duty and the influence of others, and though there is true pathos in the words with which he allows the declaration of war to be made-

Nam mihi parta quies, omnisque in limine portus: Funere felici spolior(648);-

yet he does not live before us as Priam lives in the scene with Helen on the walls of the town, and he has no power to move our hearts with the awful compa.s.sion which the grief of Priam awakens in the last books of the Iliad. Perhaps the most impressive of the secondary personages in the Aeneid is Evander, as he appears in the dignity of his simple state in the eighth Book, and in the dignity of his great sorrow in the eleventh.

Pallas and Lausus, Nisus and Euryalus, afford occasions for pathetic situations, rather than perform any part affording scope for the display of character. The romantic career of Camilla interests us; and she has the further attraction to modern readers of reminding them of a martial heroine of actual history: but we scarcely recognise in the vivid delineation of her deeds those complex elements which in their union form a whole character for our imaginations, whether in the representations of literature or in our experience of life.

The chief personal interest of the story is centred in those whose fortunes and action bring them into antagonism with the decrees of Fate, and who perish in consequence,-in Turnus, Mezentius, and Dido. Patriotism, courage, and pa.s.sion are exhibited in a fatal but not ign.o.ble struggle with the purposes and chosen instruments of Omnipotence. The tragic interest of this antagonism stimulates the imagination of the poet to a more energetic delineation of character. And in the representation of this struggle it is quite true, as has been well shown by Mr. Nettleship, that Virgil's own sympathies go with the 'victrix causa' which 'pleased the G.o.ds,' not with the 'victa' which pleases our modern sensibilities. He professes not to question but

'To justify the ways of G.o.d to men.'

The death of Mezentius satisfies poetical as well as political justice.

Turnus brings his doom upon himself by the intemperate vehemence and self-confidence with which he a.s.serts his personal claims. Though Aeneas and Dido are both represented as 'forgetful of their better name,' yet, as happens in real life more generally than in fiction, it is the woman only who suffers the penalty of this forgetfulness. Yet though in all these cases the doom of the sufferers is brought about in part through their own fault, Virgil does not, as an inferior artist might do, endeavour to augment the sympathy with his chief personage, by an unworthy detraction from his antagonist. No scorn of treachery or cowardice, no indignation against cruelty, mingles with the feeling of admiration which the general bearing of Turnus excites. The basis of his character seems to be a generous vehemence and proud independence of spirit. If Aeneas typifies the civilising mission of Rome and is to be regarded as an embodiment of the qualities which enabled her to give law to the world, Turnus typifies the brave but not internecine resistance offered to her by the other races of Italy, and is an embodiment of their high and martial spirit-of that 'Itala virtus' which, when tempered by Roman discipline, gave Rome the strength to fulfil her mission. The cause which moves Turnus to resist the Trojans is no unworthy one, either on patriotic grounds or on grounds personal to himself. If the Greeks were justified in making war against the Trojans on account of Helen, the Italians may be justified in making war against the same people on account of Lavinia. His appeals to his countrymen are addressed to the most elemental of patriotic impulses-

nunc coniugis esto Quisque suae tectique memor: nunc magna referto Facta, patrum laudes(649).

He slays his enemy in fair battle, and though he shows exultation in his victory, yet he does not sully it by any ferocity of act or demeanour-

qualem meruit Pallanta remitto, Quisquis honos tumuli, quidquid solamen humandi est Largior(650).

After his hopes of success are shaken by the first defeat of the Latins, and by the failure of the mission to Diomede, and when the timidity of Latinus and the envy of Drances urge the abandonment of the struggle, he still retains a proud confidence in his Italian allies-

Non erit auxilio n.o.bis Aetolos et Arpi, At Messapus erit, felixque Tolumnius(651), etc.

He is ready, like an earlier Decius, to devote his life in single combat against the new Achilles, armed with the armour of Vulcan-

vobis animam hanc soceroque Latino Turnus ego, haut ulli veterum virtute secundus, Devovi: 'Solum Aeneas vocat.' Et vocet oro: Nec Drances potius, sive est haec ira deorum, Morte luat, sive est virtus et gloria, tollat(652).

He sees 'the inspiring hopes of triumph disappear, but the austerer glory of suffering remains, and with a firm heart he accepts that gift of a severe fate(653)'-

Usque adeone mori miserum est? Vos o mihi Manes Este boni, quoniam Superis aversa voluntas: Sancta ad vos anima atque istius inscia culpae Descendam, magnorum haut unquam indignus avorum(654).

In the final encounter he yields, not to the terror inspired by his earthly antagonist, but to his consciousness of the hostility of Heaven-

di me terrent et Iuppiter hostis(655).

His last wish is that the old age of his father, Daunus, should not be deprived of the consolation of his funeral honours. Although the headlong vehemence of his own nature, no less than his opposition to the beneficent purposes of Omnipotence, seems to justify his fate, yet, as in the Ajax of Sophocles, the a??ad?a in Turnus is rather the flaw in an essentially heroic temper, than his dominant characteristic. The poet's sympathy with the high spirit of youth, as manifested in love and war, and his pride in the strong metal out of which the Italian race was made, have led him, perhaps involuntarily, to an embodiment of those chivalrous qualities, which affect the modern imagination with more powerful sympathy than the qualities of a temperate will and obedience to duty which he has striven to embody in the representation of Aeneas.

The vigorous sketch of Mezentius, as he appears in Book x., has received from some critics more admiration than the sustained delineation of Turnus through all the vicissitudes of feeling and fortune through which he pa.s.ses. Chateaubriand says, that this figure is the only one in the Aeneid that is 'fierement dessinee.' Landor describes him as 'the hero transcendently above all others in the Aeneid.' And there is certainly a vague grandeur of outline in this conception of the 'contemptor divom' and oppressor of his people, who is 'not only the most pa.s.sionate in his grief for Lausus, but likewise gives way to manly sorrow for the mute companion of his warfare,' indicative of a bolder invention than that which is usually ascribed to Virgil. It is remarkable that poets whose spirit is most purely religious,-both in the strength of conviction and the limitation of sympathy produced by the religious spirit-Aeschylus, Virgil, and Milton-seem to be moved to their most energetic creativeness by the idea of antagonism to the supreme will on the part of a human, or superhuman but limited will: and that they cannot help raising in their readers a glow of admiration as well as a sense of awe in their embodiment of this clash between finite and infinite power. The sketch of Mezentius cannot indeed be compared with two of the most daring conceptions and perfected creations of human genius,-the Prometheus of Aeschylus and the Satan of Milton,-yet, if it does not enlist our ethical sympathies like the former of these, like the second it receives the tribute of that involuntary admiration, which is given to courage, even when allied with moral evil, so long as it is not absolutely divorced from the capability of sympathetic and elevated emotion.

In the part which Dido plays in the poem, Virgil finds a source of interest in which he had not been antic.i.p.ated by Homer. And although the pa.s.sion of love, unreturned or betrayed, had supplied a motive to the later Greek tragedy and to the Alexandrine epic, it was still not impossible for a new poet to represent this phase of modern life with more power and pathos than any of his predecessors. It was comparatively easy to produce a more n.o.ble and vital impersonation than the Medea of Apollonius. But the Dido of Virgil may compare favourably with the creations of greater masters,-with the Deianeira of Sophocles, with the Phaedra and the Medea of Euripides. And Virgil's conception is at once more impa.s.sioned than that of Sophocles, and n.o.bler and more womanly than those of Euripides. Her character, as it is represented before the disturbing influence of this new pa.s.sion produced by supernatural artifice, is that of a brave and loyal, a great and queenly, a pure, trusting, and compa.s.sionate nature. The most tragic element in the development of her love for Aeneas is the struggle which it involves with her high-strung sense of fidelity to the dead-

Ille meos primus qui me sibi iunxit amores Abstulit: ille habeat sec.u.m servetque sepulchro(656).

The first feeling awakened in her mind by Aeneas is compa.s.sion for his sufferings, and the desire to make the Trojans sharers in the fortune which had attended her own enterprise. When by the unsuspected agency of the two G.o.ddesses she has been possessed by the fatal pa.s.sion, it is to no ign.o.ble influence that she succ.u.mbs. It is the greatness and renown of one whom she recognises as of the race of the G.o.ds, which exercise a spell over her imagination-