They would have laughed at exaggerations such as (287)--

cuius non militis ensem agnoscam? caelumque tremens c.u.m lancea transit, dicere non fallar quo sit vibrata lacerto.

Of each of you shall strike, I know the hand: The javelin's flight to me betrays the arm That launched it hurtling.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

And yet beneath all this fustian there is much that stirs the blood.

Lines such as (261)--

si pro me patriam ferro flammisque petistis, nunc pugnate truces gladiosque exsolvite culpa.

nulla ma.n.u.s belli mutato iudice pura est.

non mihi res agitur, sed vos ut libera sitis turba precor, gentes ut ius habeatis in omnes.

ipse ego privatae cupidus me reddere vitae plebeiaque toga modic.u.m compomere civem, omnia dum vobis liceant, nihil esse recuso.

invidia regnate mea;

If for my sake you sought your fatherland with fire and sword, fight fierce to-day, and by victory clear your swords from guilt. No hand is guiltless judged by a new arbiter of war.

The struggle of to-day does naught for me; but for you, so runs my prayer, it shall bring freedom and dominion o'er the world. Myself, I long to return to private life, and, even though my garb were that of the common people, to be a peaceful citizen once more. So be it all be made lawful for you, there is naught I would refuse to be: for me the hatred, so be yours the power.

or (290)--

quod si signa ducem numquam fallentia vestrum conspicio faciesque truces oculosque minaces, vicistis,

Nay, if I behold those signs that ne'er deceived your leader, fierce faces and threatening eyes, you are already conquerors.

though they are not the words of the historical Caesar, have a stirring sincerity and force. But the speeches fail because all speak the same artificial language. A mutineer can say of Caesar (v. 289)--

Rheni mihi Caesar in undis dux erat, hic socius. facinus quos inquinat aequat;

Caesar was my leader by the waves of Rhine, here he is my comrade. The stain of crime makes all men equal.

or threaten with the words (292)--

quidquid gerimus fortuna vocatur.

nos fatum sciat esse suum.

As fortune's gift He takes the victory which our arms have won: But _we_ his fortunes are, his fates are ours To fashion as we will.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

The lines are brilliant and worthy of life: in their immediate context they are ridiculous. Epigrams have their value, however, even when they suit their context ill, and neither Juvenal nor Tacitus has surpa.s.sed Lucan in this respect, or been more often quoted. He is, says Quintilian, _sententiis clarissimus_. Nothing can surpa.s.s (iv. 519)--

victurosque dei celant, ut vivere durent, felix esse mori.

And the G.o.ds conceal from those who are doomed to live how happy it is to die. Thus only may they endure to live.

or (viii. 631-2)--

mutantur prospera vitae, non fit morte miser;

Life may bring defeat, But death no misery.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

or (i. 32)--

alta sedent civilis volnera dextrae;

Deep lie the wounds that civil war hath made.

or (ix. 211)--

scire mori sors prima viris, sed proxima cogi.

Best gift of all The knowledge how to die: next, death compelled.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

Lines such as (i. 281)--

semper nocuit differre paratis,

To pause when ready is to court defeat.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

or (v. 260)--

quidquid multis peccatur, inultum est

The crime is free where thousands bear the guilt.

SIR E. RIDLEY.

are commonplace enough in thought but perfect in expression. Of a different character, but equally noteworthy, are sayings such as iv.

819--

momentumque fuit mutatus Curio rerum;

The change of Curio turned the scale of history.

or (iv. 185)--

usque adeone times, quem tu facis ipse timendum?

Dost fear him so Who takes his t.i.tle to be feared from thee?

SIR E. RIDLEY, _slightly altered._

Lucan's gift for epigram is further enhanced by the nature of his metre.

Ponderous in the extreme, it is ill-suited for epic, though in isolated lines its very weight gives added force. But he had a poor ear for rhythm: his hexameter is monotonous as the iambics of Seneca. There is a want of variety in pauses; he will not accommodate his rhythm to circ.u.mstances; line follows line with but the slightest rhythmical variation, and there is far too[307] sparing a use of elision. This failing is in part due to his desire to steer clear of the influence of Vergil and strike out on a line of his own. Faint echoes of Vergil, it is true, occur frequently throughout the poem, but to the untrained eye Lucan is emphatically un-Vergilian. His affinity to Ovid is greater.

Both are rhetorical, and Lucan is indebted to Ovid for much mythological detail. And it is probable that he owes his smoothness and monotony of metre largely to the influence of the _Metamorphoses_. His ponderosity is all his own.[308]

Lucan is the child of his age, but he is almost an isolated figure in literature. He has almost every conceivable defect in every conceivable degree, from the smallest detail to the general conception of his poem.

And yet he triumphs over himself. It is a hateful task to read the _Pharsalia_ from cover to cover, and yet when it is done and the lapse of time has allowed the feeling of immediate repulsion to evaporate, the reader can still feel that Lucan is a great writer. The absurdities slip from the memory, the dreariness of the narrative is forgotten, and the great pa.s.sages of lofty rhetoric, with their pungent epigram and their high political enthusiasm, remain deeply engraven on the mind. It is they that have given Lucan the immortality which he promised himself.