tedious and in the most superficial
modern works on the early times of Rome. It enlivens the dulness of
the Universal History, and gives a charm to the most meagre
abridgements of Goldsmith.
Even in the age of Plutarch there were discerning men who rejected the
popular account of the foundation of Rome, because that account
appeared to them to have the air, not of a history, but of a romance or a
drama. Plutarch, who was displeased at their incredulity, had nothing
better to say in reply to their arguments than that chance sometimes
turns poet, and produces trains of events not to be distinguished from
the most elaborate plots which are constructed by art. But though the
existence of a poetical element in the early history of the Great City
was detected so many ages ago, the first critic who distinctly saw from
what source that poetical element had been derived was James
Perizonius, one of the most acute and learned antiquaries of the
seventeenth century. His theory, which in his own days attracted little
or no notice, was revived in the present generation by Niebuhr, a man
who would have been the first writer of his time, if his talent for
communicating truths had borne any proportion to his talent for
investigating them. That theory has been adopted by several eminent
scholars of our own country, particularly by the Bishop of St. David's,
by Professor Malde, and by the lamented Arnold. It appears to be now
generally received by men conversant with classical antiquity; and
indeed it rests on such strong proofs, both internal and external, that it
will not be easily subverted. A popular exposition of this theory, and of
the evidence by which it is supported, may not be without interest even
for readers who are unacquainted with the ancient languages.
The Latin literature which has come down to us is of later date than the
commencement of the Second Punic War, and consists almost
exclusively of works fashioned on Greek models. The Latin metres,
heroic, elegiac, lyric, and dramatic, are of Greek origin. The best Latin
epic poetry is the feeble echo of the Iliad and Odyssey. The best Latin
eclogues are imitations of Theocritus. The plan of the most finished
didactic poem in the Latin tongue was taken from Hesiod. The Latin
tragedies are bad copies of the masterpieces of Sophocles and Euripides.
The Latin philosophy was borrowed, without alteration, from the
Portico and the Academy; and the great Latin orators constantly
proposed to themselves as patterns the speeches of Demosthenes and
Lysias.
But there was an earlier Latin literature, a literature truly Latin, which
has wholly perished, which had, indeed almost wholly perished long
before those whom we are in the habit of regarding as the greatest Latin
writers were born. That literature abounded with metrical romances,
such as are found in every country where there is much curiosity and
intelligence, but little reading and writing. All human beings, not
utterly savage, long for some information about past times, and are
delighted by narratives which present pictures to the eye of the mind.
But it is only in very enlightened communities that books are readily
accessible. Metrical composition, therefore, which, in a highly civilized
nation, is a mere luxury, is, in nations imperfectly civilized, almost a
necessary of life, and is valued less on account of the pleasure which it
gives to the ear, than on account of the help which it gives to the
memory. A man who can invent or embellish an interesting story, and
put it into a form which others may easily retain in their recollection,
will always be highly esteemed by a people eager for amusement and
information, but destitute of libraries. Such is the origin of
ballad-poetry, a species of composition which scarcely ever fails to
spring up and flourish in every society, at a certain point in the progress
towards refinement. Tacitus informs us that songs were the only
memorials of the past which the ancient Germans possessed. We learn
from Lucan and from Ammianus Marcellinus that the brave actions of
the ancient Gauls were commemorated in the verses of Bards. During
many ages, and through many revolution, minstrelsy retained its
influence over both the Teutonic and the Celtic race. The vengeance
exacted by the spouse of Attila for the murder of Siegfried was
celebrated in rhymes, of which Germany is still justly proud. The
exploits of Athelstane were commemorated by the Anglo-Saxons and
those of Canute by the Danes, in rude poems, of which a few fragments
have come down to us. The chants of the Welsh harpers preserved,
through ages of darkness, a faint and doubtful memory of Arthur. In the
Highlands of Scotland may still be gleaned some relics of the old songs
about
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