This ode, which is in itself a masterpiece of poetic art, is rendered much more interesting by its peculiar national character, and the manner in which the poet has tried to imitate, in a modern lyric poem, the ancient national songs in which the Romans celebrated the deeds of their great ancestors in bygone times. To this poetical experiment the poet also alludes in those highly-finished lines of one of his later odes:

"Nosque et profestis," &c.

ODES IV. 15, 25, sq.

It is a laudable proof of the political independence of the poet, in his relation to the master of Rome and his political adherents and flatterers, that he mentions in this poem, among the heroes of the Roman nation, the "last Roman," and his "noble death." The following outline of the character of Cato, as it has been preserved by Plutarch in his simple and interesting representation, will show how well he deserved to be so favourably spoken of.

The younger Cato (called Cato Uticensis, from the place of his death), great-grandson of the famous Cato Censorius, was born in 659 A. U. C. (95 B. C.), and, being an orphan, was brought up, along with his brother Caepio and his sister Porcia, in the house of their uncle, Livius Drusus, an influential and honourable statesman. Cato manifested, from his early childhood, great firmness and inflexibility in his voice, look, and even in his games. He prosecuted whatever he commenced with an energy and perseverance quite uncommon at his age. He was rough and forbidding towards flatterers, but still more impatient with such as wished to intimidate him. It was difficult to make him laugh, and he would scarcely mould his features into a faint smile. It was not less difficult to excite him to anger; but when once he was irritated, it was not easy to pacify him.

Notwithstanding his natural inflexibility, he cheerfully obeyed his master, and was ready to do all that he desired him to do. But he wished to know the reason of everything, and always asked why he was ordered to perform any particular duty. Sarpedon, his humane and judicious teacher, always readily complied with any such request. Owing to the friendship existing between Sulla and the father of Cato, the former would often invite the boy to his house, and hold a familiar conversation with him, a favour which this all-powerful man bestowed only on few. Sarpedon, considering this partiality of Sulla as of great importance both to the honour and personal safety of his pupil, often conducted him to Sulla to wait upon him. Sulla's house at that time resembled a place of execution, as so many people were there tortured and put to death. When Cato, who was then fourteen years old, saw the heads of many celebrated men brought out, and observed, at the same time, that the bystanders were secretly sighing at these bloody sights, he asked his master: "Why does nobody kill

this man?" And when the master replied: "Because they fear him still more than they hate him," Cato said: "Well, then, why didst thou not give me a sword, that I might kill him, and free my country from servitude." When Sarpedon heard these words, and, at the same time, saw the boy's angry look, he became so afraid that he thenceforward strictly watched him, lest he should attempt some rash and dangerous act.

Although his patrimony was considerable (amounting to one hundred and twenty talents, i. e. about £30,000), he lived more soberly and plainly when he obtained possession of it than before. He attached himself to the Stoic philosopher, Antipater of Tyre, and most eagerly pursued the study of ethics and politics. He was urged, as if by an impulse of enthusiasm, to every virtue, but chiefly to justice, and more especially that stern justice which it is impossible to turn from its course by either indulgence or partiality. He also zealously studied political eloquence, but he kept aloof from those declamatory exercises which were customary among young men of his age. When one of his friends remarked to him, "Cato, people find fault with thy silence," he answered: "Never mind, provided they have not to find fault with my life. I shall begin to speak when I shall have to say something worth saying."

The following circumstance was the occasion of Cato's first appearance as a public speaker: That public portico called the Porcian (Basilica Porcia), which was built by the elder Cato, when he held, for the last time, the office of Censor, was generally used for the meetings of the tribunes of the people. When it was found that one of the columns prevented the forms from being properly arranged, the tribunes wished either to remove it altogether or to give it another place. Cato opposed this resolution, and gave a splendid proof both of his talent as an orator and of the nobleness of his disposition. There was neither juvenility nor affectation in his speech, which was straightforward, intelligent, and energetic. Nevertheless, his brevity and conciseness were greatly improved by a fine urbanity, and the austerity of his character harmonized completely with the solemnity of his expressions. His voice was loud enough to be heard by the numerous crowd, and his chest so strong that he could speak for a whole day without fatigue. Having succeeded in obtaining his object, he resumed his former course of private study. In order to invigorate his body, he engaged in the most fatiguing exercises. He accustomed himself to go bareheaded both in the hottest and coldest weather, and to travel on foot at all seasons. His fellow-travellers were on horseback, and, when conversing with one or another, Cato walked at his side. His patience and abstinence during illness were extraordinary. When seized with fever, he would spend the whole day by himself, and never admit any one before he was decidedly convalescent.

Cato clearly saw that a great change in the manners and customs of his country was necessary, and he therefore resolved to act in direct opposition to the prevailing fashion. For instance, as it was common to wear clothes of the most lively purple, he always dressed in black.

When he had inherited a large estate by the death of a near relation,

C

he sold it for a hundred talents (about £25,000), and employed the money in giving loans to his friends without exacting interest. Nay, sometimes, when this sum was insufficient, he would mortgage his own estates to the public treasury in order to assist his friends.

In the servile war (against Spartacus), Cato served as a volunteer under Gellius; but the war was carried on so badly, that, contrary to his expectations, he had no opportunity of proving his courage. But, in the midst of the general luxury and effeminacy of the army, he attended so much to a strict discipline, and exhibited so much coolness and ability as a soldier, that in these respects he perfectly equalled his great ancestor, Cato Censorius. When Gellius offered him a great reward and military distinction for his services, he refused both with the following remark: "I have done nothing that is worthy of distinction."

Although he did not strive for glory, he had an abundant share of it while he was military tribune in Macedonia, and his soldiers were extremely attached to him; for whatever he ordered others to do, he himself did of his own accord. In his dress and food, and in undergoing the fatigues of the campaign, he resembled a private soldier more than a commander, and, at the same time, excelled all the other leaders in prudence and dignity. After his return to Rome, he undertook the office of Quaestor, and immediately effected great improvements in the secretaryships and other branches of administration in the treasury. He thus rendered, in a short time, the office of quaestor quite as honourable as the consulate.

There were at that time in Rome a number of ruffians whom Sulla had employed in his second proscription, and who had received from him twelve thousand drachms for every proscribed head. These wretches were generally hated and abhorred, but nobody dared to take measures for their punishment. Cato summoned every one of them who had received money for these villainous practices before a court of justice, and reclaimed the money, sharply reproaching them, at the same time, with the infamy of their conduct. After having been dealt with in this manner, they were tried for murder and executed, to the great joy of all citizens, who believed tyranny to have been extinguished, and Sulla himself to have been condemned by the sentence passed on these men.

During the discussion which took place in the senate concerning the punishment of Catiline and his followers, Cato, in an energetic speech (which has been preserved by the historian Sallust), opposed the ambiguous motion of Julius Caesar to proceed with clemency, and voted for the death of the rebels; and this motion of Cato's was adopted, and carried into effect. From this day the implacable hatred between Caesar and Cato must be dated. With the same sternness, Cato, while tribune of the people, and praetor, as well as subsequently, opposed the ambitious designs of Pompey.

Caesar, who, about this time, had gained over warlike nations many victories dangerous to the liberties of Rome, had attacked the Germans, although at peace with Rome, and slain (according to Plutarch) three hundred thousand of them. Many citizens voted on this occasion for a public thanksgiving; but Cato was of a different opinion,

and said that Caesar should be delivered over to the nations whom he had injured, lest his manner of proceeding might bring down a curse upon the state. Yet, he added, it is just to thank the gods that the soldiers did not suffer for the madness and wickedness of their general, and that the commonwealth was saved from calamity. When Caesar heard of this, he wrote to the senate several letters, which were full of invectives against Cato. When these letters had been read in the senate, Cato rose with the utmost composure, and, in a speech which was as well arranged as if it had been prepared, he said, that these letters did not deserve any answer, since they contained nothing but proofs of Caesar's roguery. He then proved to the senate, more like a friend who knew the secret designs of Caesar's mind than like an enemy, that the Britons and the Gauls were not nearly so much to be dreaded as Caesar himself. This speech caused so much excitement that the friends of Caesar regretted their publication of his letters. No resolution, however, was then taken, although the propriety of appointing a successor to Caesar was discussed. When, on this occasion, the friends of Caesar moved that Pompey should also quit his army and resign his provinces, Cato exclaimed: My prediction is now fulfilled. It is now evident that Caesar will take up arms, and that he will use the power which he obtained by deceiving the people to enslave them." But Cato had very little influence beyond the limits of the senate, for the people were bent upon increasing the power of Caesar; and even the senate, however thoroughly convinced of the correctness of Cato's statements, were afraid of the people.

When it was announced at Rome that Caesar had taken Ariminum, and was advancing with his army towards the city, the whole people and Pompey himself looked to Cato, as the only one who had penetrated the designs of Caesar. "If you had formerly listened to my advice," said Cato, "you would have reason neither to be afraid of the power of one man, nor to put all your trust in one man." He then advised the senate to entrust the supreme power to Pompey, "for," said he, "the authors of great evils know best how to remove them." When Pompey, seeing that his power was no match for Caesar's, left Rome at the approach of the latter, Cato, accompanied by his son, followed him to Campania. From this day he put on mourning for his country. Pompey found the proximity of Cato rather troublesome, since Cato did not conceal his apprehension that the victory of Pompey would be nearly as painful to him as that of Caesar.

After the battle of Pharsalia, he nevertheless remained faithful to the conquered party:

"Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni."

LUCAN 1, 128.

He went to Achaia, Lacedaemon, and Crete, in search of Pompey; and when he heard on his voyage of Pompey's melancholy death, he sailed to Cyrene, and thence repaired to the province of Africa, where he received a commission to defend the town of Utica against both domestic and foreign enemies. On the 8th of April 708 (46 B. C.), he was informed of the issue of the battle of Thapsus; he accordingly assembled all the Romans who were in the town, and although they declared

their readiness to defend themselves to the last extremity, factions very soon arose who opposed all overt acts of hostility to Caesar, and even threatened to surrender the senators to him. In regard to Cato, they offered to intercede with Caesar in his favour, but he declined their proposal, saying, "Do not pray for me, for I am neither conquered, so that I should sue for mercy, nor guilty, so that I should beg for pardon. have never in my life been conquered, and have always been victorious whenever I wished to be so; for in justice and honour I am Caesar's conqueror. Caesar is the conquered, the fallen man, since the designs against his country, which he has so long disowned, are now clearly detected, and proved against him."

He now assisted all who wished to flee in making their escape. His son and two philosophers staid with him. Having recommended them to his pro-quaestor, Lucius Caesar, he took a bath, held at table a lively conversation about some tenets of stoicism, defending especially the proposition, that only the virtuous man is free, and that the wicked are all slaves; and, when in bed, he read Plato's Phaedon.

When he observed that his sword had been taken away, he was so impatient in asking for it that he wounded his hand in chastising a slave who was hesitating to bring it. When he had recovered it, he continued to read in Phaedon, and then fell sound asleep.

About midnight he awoke, and sent a freedman to the shore to see if all the ships of the fugitives had left. When he had received satisfactory information, he locked the door, and stabbed himself. But his previous wound had so much weakened his hand, that the blow was not mortal; and at the noise made by his fall and the overturning of a table, his domestics ran to his assistance, and his physician dressed his wound; but having been left alone, because he expressed a desire to sleep, he tore off the bandage, and bled to death. He was forty-nine years old when he formed the stern resolution to die with the freedom of the republic. He was buried on the shore, and a statue was afterwards erected to his memory on the spot.

Religion cannot but blame the last deed of the "last Roman," although Lactantius, one of the fathers of the church, makes the following apology for it: "Aliquam moriendi causam videtur habuisse, odium servitutis."

When Caesar heard of Cato's death, he is said to have exclaimed: "Cato, I envy thy death, since thou hast envied me the glory of saving thy life."