inker and
philosopher in poetry: a high Roman type, and a kind of
materialist, and a kind of God's warrior, and a suicide. And
Catullus: no noble type; neither Roman nor Greek, but Italian
perhaps; singing in the old Saturnian meters with a real lyrical
fervor, but with nothing better to sing than his loves.--And
then, in politics again, Brutus: type, in sentimental history of
the Republican School, of the high old roman and republican
virtues; Brutus of the "blood-bright splendor," the tyrant-slayer
and Roman Harmodios-Aristogeiton; the adored of philosophic
French liberty-equality-fraternity adorers; Shakespeare's
"noblest Roman of them all";--O how featly Cassius might
have answered, when Brutus accused him of the "itching palm,"
if he had only been keeping _au fait_ with the newspapers
through the preceding years! _"Et tu, Brute,"_ I hear him say,
quoting words that should have reminded his dear friend of the
sacrd ties of friendship,--

"Art thou the man will rate thy Cassius thus?
This is the most unkindest cut of all;
For truly I have filched a coin or two:--
Have been, say, _thrifty;_ gathered here and there
_Pickings,_ we'll call them; but, my Brutus, thou--
Didst thou not shut the senators of Rhodes
(I think 'twas Rhodes) up in their senate-house,
And keep them there unfoddered day by day.
Until starvation forced them to disgorge
All of their million to thee? Didst not thou--"

Brutus is much too philosophical, much to studious, to listen
to qualities of that kind, and cuts the conversation short right
there. Cassius was right: that about starving the senators of
his province that surrendered their wealth was precisely what our
Brutus did.--Then there was Anthony, the rough brave soldier,--a
kind of man of the unfittest when the giants Pompey and Caesar
had been in; Anthony, master of Rome for awhile,--and truly, God
knows Rome will do with bluff Mark Anthony for her master!--It is
a very interesting list; most of them queer lobsided creatures,
fighting with own hands or for nothing in particular; most with
some virtues: Then that might have saved Rome, if, as Mrs Poyser
said, "they are hatched again, and hatched different."

XVIII. AUGUSTUS

We left Rome galloping down the Gadarene slope, and scrimmaging
for a vantage point whence to hurl herself headlong. Down she
came; a riot and roaring ruin: doing those things she ought not