auses, and round up an idea, roping it in careless grace, with what my
lord Hamlet calls words, words, words.

The early Christian Fathers spoke of him as "our Seneca." His writings
abound in the purest philosophy--often seemingly paraphrasing Saint
Paul--and every argument for directness of speech, simplicity, manliness
and moderation is put forth. His writings became the rage in Rome: at
feasts he read his essays on the Ideal Life, just as the disciples of
Tolstoy often travel by the gorge road, and give banquets in honor of
the man who no longer attends one; or princely paid preachers glorify
the Man who said to His apostles, "Take neither scrip nor purse."

Seneca was a combination of Delsarte and Emerson. He was as popular as
Henry Irving, and as wise as Thomas Brackett Reed. His writings were in
demand; when he spoke in public, crowds hung upon his words, and the
families of the great and powerful sent him their sons, hoping he would
impart the secret of success. The world takes a man at the estimate he
puts upon himself. Seneca knew enough to hold himself high. Honors came
his way, and the wealth he acquired is tokened in those five hundred
tables, inlaid with ivory, to which at times he invited his friends to
feast. As a lawyer, he took his pick of cases, and rarely appeared,
except on appeal, before the Emperor. The poise of his manner, the
surety of his argument, the gentle grace of his diction, caused him to
be likened to Julius Caesar.

And this led straight to exile, and finally--death. To mediocrity,
genius is unforgivable.

* * * * *

There are various statements to the effect that Claudius was a mental
defective, a sort of town fool, patronized by the nobles for their sport
and jest. We are also told that he was made Emperor by the Pretorian
Guards, in a spirit of rollicking bravado. Men too much abused must have
some merit, or why should the pack bay so loudly? Possibly it is true
that, in the youth of Claudius, his mother used to declare, when she
wanted a strong comparison, "He is as big a fool as my son, Claudius."
But then the mother of Wellington used exactly the same expression; and
Byron's mother had a way of referring to the son who was to rescue her
from oblivion, and send her name down the corridors of time, as "that
lame brat."

Claudius was a brother of the great Germanicus, and was therefore an
uncle of Caligula. Caligula was the worst ruler that Rome ev