or secondary influence of the Hellenistic poets upon other literary departments. From this point of view the Roman elegy demands and repays constant comparison with the comedy and with that belated echo of it, the rhetorical letter writers, Alkiphron and Aristainetos. Another important source is the Greek Anthology, and still another, the Hellenistic works of art discovered in Pompeii, Herculaneum, and elsewhere, many of which lay emphasis upon the sentimental, erotic, idyllic, or genre. We may also add Lukian, Philostratos, Quintus Smyrnaeus, Nonnos, the Roman epigrammatists, even the rhetorical and philosophical discussions. In one way or another they all echo the once large and particularly interesting literature of the Hellenistic period.

How much on the other hand the Roman elegy owes to the Romans themselves it is no longer possible to say. It is fair to assume however that the debt is considerable. The elegy was a late comer, and at that time Roman literary genius had long been out of leading strings. In this matter little can be learned from the atmosphere of the elegy itself. Developed and perfected in the thirty-odd years preceding the Christian Era, the Roman elegy of Gallus, Tibullus, Propertius, and Ovid was the product of an age which in intellectual refinement and cultivation, even in the political situation and its ultimate consequences, was in many ways a replica of the period in which the elegy of Philetas and his successors had been produced.

Indeed the ordinary Graeco-Roman life of the Augustan Age was much the same as that of the Alexandrian Age. So far at least as the elegy is concerned, the different classes of society and their relations to each other, the occupations and ambitions of the jeunesse dorée, the entire mise-en-scène of polite verse dealing with contemporary existence harmonize with the one almost as well as with the other. Antique life was very conservative, especially in the conduct of a love affair à la mode. The lover and his friends, his mistress and her friends, his rival (always either a soldier of

fortune, or a rich parvenu, or both), the 'husband,' the lena, all

are stock characters whether in comedy, elegy, epigram, or actual life. They can be depended upon to appear in regular order, and after some experience the resulting situations, moods, and observations can usually be predicted in advance.

The bacillus amatorius generally penetrates the poet by way of his eyes, and the period of incubation is ridiculously short. Among the first symptoms one of the most notable is an utter inability to sleep. It is useless to struggle. The arrows of Dan Cupid are unerring and burn to the bone. His victim is an ox at the plow, and the worst is yet to come; he is a soldier detailed for special service, always leading the forlorn hope. To overcome the girl's disdain is only one of his troubles. Frequently there is a selfish and tactless 'husband' in the way. Then follow all the varieties, moods, and motives of an intrigue.

The emotional temperature is far above the danger point. Clothes torn, hair forcibly removed, faces scratched, black and blue spots - these are all marks of affection. As the observant Parmeno remarks

in amore haec omnia insunt vitia: iniuriae,
suspiciones, inimicitiae, indutiae,

bellum, pax rursum, etc.

'A bitter-sweet passion at best,' says Burton, after consulting all the books in and about Oxford — 'dolentia delectabilis, hilare tormentum-fair, foul, and full of variation.

Jove's book for recording lovers' oaths is running water.

seas.

And

'la donna è mobile' — her promises are sport for the winds and The poet is always poor. His mistress however is not only a pearl, but a pearl of price. He promises her immortality in his verses; she is more concerned about her immediate future in this life. He learns as did the Abbé Voisenon that

Sans dépenser

C'est en vain qu'on espère

De s'avancer

Au pays de Cythère.

He is therefore the natural enemy of wealth, greed, and presentday luxury. His ideal is the Golden Age, when men were SO happy and so poor. He takes no part in politics, is not ambitious to get on in affairs; war is as unpopular with him as seafaring and similar short cuts to death. He observes omens, frequently consults witch-wives and Thessalian moon specialists, and generally makes them responsible for the sins of his mistress. She herself has a decided leaning for ritualism. She is devoted to Isis and sows dissension by her periodical attacks of going into retreat.

She is earnestly advised not to mar her great natural beauty by artificial means. In the course of the affair she never fails to have an illness. The poet nurses her and afterwards writes a poem about it. He too falls ill. Maybe he is going to die. If so, will she see to it that the following directions with regard to his funeral are carried out?

Like Anakreon he must love, and is made to sing of love alone. To expect him to write epic is quite out of the question. Indeed the gods themselves sometimes serve notice on him to that effect.

But while the prevailing mood of the elegy is amatory and the lighter aspects of contemporary life are much in evidence, the poet may, and occasionally does, resort to the other traditional themes and moods of his department.

The Roman elegy is generally erotic and sentimental; it favours the idyllic, and has a fondness for genre. At the same time it is rarely intense, and it shows a tendency to cultivated irony and persiflage. This characteristic mood of Hellenistic poetry is especially notable in Ovid, but it is also characteristic of Roman poetry in his time.

Matter and manner are in harmony with each other. The Roman elegy demands and attains the highest standard of formal excellence. From this point of view-and it was this point of view that inspired the words-Quintilian's boast of 'elegia quoque Graecos provocamus' was, we may be sure, fully justified.1

1 In view of much recent criticism of the elegy as well as of other literary departments this characteristic attitude of antique criticism cannot be too often emphasized. See p. 72, n. 1.

As it was designed to be read, not sung, the Roman elegy was more highly rhetorical and details of form were more carefully considered than would otherwise have been necessary. The distich in particular, as we find it in the poems of Tibullus and his successors, represents the greatest triumph of Roman genius in the domain of verse technique, and may challenge comparison with the best work of the Greek masters. Every detail of rhetoric and style is wrought out with the utmost delicacy and care. theme, as we shall see, is developed in a typical fashion, and as compared with the epigram the distich is constructed with greater attention, and the language is more fastidious. Herein we have a definite, clear distinction between the Roman elegy and the Roman epigram in distichs.

The !

But while the language of the elegy as opposed to that of the epigram is always poetical, nevertheless it carefully avoids as a rule the more elevated mood of epic and tragedy. This law is in harmony with the ars celare artem, the apparent absence of anything like artifice, the effect of unstudied ease and naturalness, for which the elegy is especially distinguished. The ideal is daintiness and grace rather than sublimity or the soaring moods and aspirations of high poetry. The author repeatedly informs us that his verse is of the lighter sort, mere 'nugae' or 'opuscula,' and though he sometimes forgets and tells the truth, he generally assures us that he has no ambitions, that his poems are only meant to win his lady-love, and that if they fail in this object they may all go hang. Strange to say, modern scholars have often taken him at his word.1

These general laws, these standard rules and representative tendencies of the Roman elegy as a whole, are most fully and clearly illustrated by Albius Tibullus. To him in fact belongs the distinction of having given artistic perfection to the department on Roman ground.

12, 4, 13-20 n.

II. LIFE OF TIBULLUS

1

Our materials for the life of Tibullus are insufficient for restoring even a bare outline of his career and personality. They consist of a few slight references in his own works, certain passages in the poems of his younger contemporary Ovid, two pieces addressed to him by his friend Horace, and an anonymous vita which has come down to us in some mss. of the author.

This vita, which is followed by an epigram ascribed to Tibullus's contemporary Domitius Marsus, is brief, vague, and unsatisfactory. It has some value however; for, although corrupted and abridged to an indefinite extent, it probably goes back ultimately to a life of Tibullus once found in the De Poetis, a section now lost of the De Viris Inlustribus of Suetonius.

The epigram of Domitius Marsus, the leading poet of his type in the Augustan Age, was doubtless quoted by Suetonius himself in the text of the lost 'vita Tibulli.' It was evidently occasioned by the fact that the death of our poet was coincident with that of Vergil. We know from trustworthy sources that the author of the Aeneid died at Brindisi on the 22d of September, 19 B.C. We must therefore suppose that the death of Tibullus occurred either on that very day, which in itself is not impossible, or at a very brief interval. Otherwise the epigram has no point, and Suetonius would never have quoted it in this connection.

This is the nearest approach to a definite date in the life of our poet. The date of his birth is unknown and can only be stated approximately. The vita says that he died young (‘obiit adulescens'), but immediately adds, 'ut indicat epigramma supra scriptum.' Perhaps these words are the addition of a later hand. If

1 For the most complete and detailed account of Tibullus with references to all the important literature up to date, see Schanz, Geschichte der Röm. Litteratur, II, 1, 3rd edit., Munich, Beck, 1911, p. 219. The most sympathetic and inspiring account of Tibullus as a poet and man is given by Sellar, Horace and the Elegiac Poets. See also, Plessis, La Poésie Latine, Paris, 1910, p. 336 f., and Duff's Literary History of Rome, p. 546.