No More Learning

The hour strikes. Hark! the angel!
Soradaci was about to fall on his face, but I assured him that
this was superfluous. In three minutes the hole was pierced
through; the board fell at my feet, and Father Balbi slid into
my arms.
"and now mine begins.
"Your task is done," said I,
We embraced, and he gave me my crowbar and a pair of
scissors. I desired Soradaci to trim our beards, but I could not
help laughing as I saw the creature, open-mouthed, staring at
this strange angel, who looked more like a demon. Though
utterly bewildered, he cut our beards to perfection.
Being impatient to survey the locality, I desired the monk to
remain with Soradaci, for I would not leave him alone, and I
went out. I found the hole rather narrow; however, I got
through. I got above the cell in which the Count lay; I went
down and cordially embraced the venerable gentleman. I saw a
a figure il suited to surmount the difficulties of such an
escape over a steep roof covered with sheet lead. He asked me
what my plan was, and told me that he thought I had been
rather heedless in my action.
man
"I only want to go on," said I, "step by step to liberty or
death. "
"If you imagine," said he, "that you can pierce the roof and
find a way along the leads,- from which, too, you must get


## p. 3325 (#299) ###########################################

CASANOVA
3325
down, I do not see how you can possibly succeed unless you
have wings. I have not courage enough to accompany you. I
shall stay where I am and pray to God for you. "
I left him to inspect the outer roof, getting as close as I
could to the outer side of the loft. Having succeeded in touch-
ing the inside of the rafters at the part where it was lowest, I
perched myself on a beam, such as are to be found under the
roof of every large palace. I poked at the rafters with the end
of my bar, and to my joy found them half-rotten; at each touch
the wood fell in dust. Being sure, therefore, that I could make
a large enough opening in less than an hour, I returned to my
cell and spent the next four hours in cutting up sheets, counter-
panes, and mattress covers, to make ropes of. I took care to tie
all the knots myself, to be sure of their firmness, for a single
knot badly tied would have cost us our life. When all was done
I found we had about a hundred yards of rope. There are cer-
tain things in every great enterprise which are of the highest
importance, and for which a leader worthy of the name trusts
no one.
When the rope was finished, I made a bundle of my coat, my
silk cloak, some shirts, stockings, and handkerchiefs, and we all
three went into the Count's cell. This worthy man first con-
gratulated Soradaci on having been so lucky as to be put in the
same room with me, and being so soon enabled to recover his
freedom. The man's stupid amazement almost made me laugh.
I no longer attempted any concealment, for I had thrown off the
mask of Tartuffe, which I had found most inconvenient while
this villain had compelled me to wear it. I saw that he was
convinced I had deceived him, but he could not understand how;
for he could not imagine how I had communicated with the
sham angel so as to make him come and go at fixed hours. He
was listening eagerly to the Count, who declared we were rush-
ing on our fate; and, coward that he was, he was revolving in
his mind a scheme for avoiding the perilous attempt. I told the
monk to collect his things while I went to make the hole in the
roof of the loft.
-
At two hours after sunset the hole was finished; I had
worked the rafters to powder, and the opening was twice as
large as was needful. I could touch the sheet of lead outside.
I could not raise it single-handed, because it was riveted; the
friar helped me, and by pushing the crowbar between the gutter


## p. 3326 (#300) ###########################################

3326
CASANOVA
and the sheet of lead I detached it; then raising it on our shoul-
ders, we bent it up high enough to allow of our squeezing
through the opening. Putting my head out to reconnoitre, I
saw with dismay how bright the moon was, now in the first
quarter. It was a check which we must endure with patience,
and wait till midnight to escape, when the moon would have
gone to light up the Antipodes. On such a glorious night all
Venice would be out on the Piazza below, and we dared not
venture out on the roof; our shadows cast on the ground would
have attracted attention; our extraordinary appearance up there
would excite general curiosity, and above all, that of Messer
Grande and his spies, the sole guards of Venice. Our fine
scheme would soon have been disturbed by their odious interfer-
ence. I therefore decided positively that we were not to creep
out till the moon had set.
It was time to be off. The moon had set. I hung half the
rope round Balbi's neck on one side and his bundle of clothes on
the other shoulder. I did the same for myself; and both, in our
waistcoats with our hats on, went to the opening in the roof.
"And issuing forth we then beheld the stars. " DANTE.
I crept out first; Balbi followed me. Soradaci, who had
accompanied us to the roof, was ordered to pull the sheet of
lead down again and then to go and pray to his saint. Crawling
on my knees on all fours, I clutched my crowbar firmly, and
stretching as far as I could, I slipped it obliquely between the
points of the sheets; then, grasping the end of the sheet I had
turned up, I dragged myself up to the ridge of the roof. The
friar, to follow me, inserted the fingers of his right hand into
the belt of my breeches. Thus I had the double task of a
beast which drags and carries both at once, and that on a steep
roof, made slippery by a dense fog. Half-way up this dreadful
climb, Balbi bid me stop, for one of his parcels had fallen, and
he hoped it might not have gone further than the gutter. My
first impulse was to give him a kick and send him after his
bundle; but God be praised, I had enough self-command not to
do this, for the punishment would have been too severe for both
of us, since I alone could never have escaped. I asked him
whether it was the packet of ropes, but as he replied that it was
only his bundle, in which he had a manuscript he had found in


## p. 3327 (#301) ###########################################

CASANOVA
3327
the loft, and which he had hoped would make his fortune, I told
him he must take patience; for that a step backwards would be
fatal. The poor monk sighed, and clinging still to my waist-
band, we climbed on again.
I
After having got over fifteen or sixteen sheets of lead with
immense difficulty, we reached the ridge, on which I perched
myself astride, and Balbi did the same. We had our backs to
the island of San Giorgio Maggiore, and two hundred yards in
front of us we saw the numerous cupolas of the church of Saint
Mark, which is in fact part of the Ducal Palace; for the church
of Saint Mark is, properly speaking, no more than the Doge's
chapel, and certainly no sovereign can boast of a finer one.
began by relieving myself of my load, and desired my companion
to follow my example. He tucked his bundle of ropes under
him as best he might, but wanting to take off his hat, which
inconvenienced him, he managed so badly that it rolled from
ledge to ledge, and went to join the bundle of clothes in the
canal. My poor comrade was in despair.
"A bad omen!
་
he exclaimed. "Here I am at once without
a shirt, without a hat, and bereft of a precious manuscript con-
taining a most curious and unknown history of the festivals at
the Ducal Palace. "
I, less disposed to be fierce than I had been when I was
climbing, calmly assured him that these two little accidents had
nothing so extraordinary about them as that a superstitious spirit
should regard them as ominous; that I did not think them so,
and that they did not in the least discourage me.
«as
a
"They should serve you, my good fellow," said I,
warning to be prudent and wise, and to suggest to you that God
certainly protects us; for if your hat, instead of tumbling to the
right, had slipped off to the left, we should have been lost. It
would have fallen into the courtyard, where the guards must
have found it, and it would of course have told them that there
must be some one on the roof. We should have been recaptured
at once. "
After sitting some minutes looking about me, I desired the
monk to remain motionless till I should return, and I made my
way forward, shuffling along astride on the roof without any
difficulty, my bolt in my hand. I spent above an hour going
about the roof, examining and observing every corner, but in
vain; nowhere did I see anything to which I could attach a cord.


## p. 3328 (#302) ###########################################

3328
CASANOVA
I was in the greatest perplexity. I could not for a moment
think of the canal, nor of the palace courtyard, and among the
many cupolas of the church I saw nothing but precipitous walls
leading to no open space. To get beyond the church to the
Canonica I should have had to surmount such steep slopes that I
had no hope of achieving it, and it was natural that I should
reject as impossible everything that did not seem feasible. The
situation in which I found myself required daring, but absolutely
no rashness. It was such a dilemma as I imagine can have no
parallel for difficulty in any moral question.
However, I had to come to some conclusion: I must either
get away or return to my cell, never probably to leave it again;
or again, throw myself into the canal. In this predicament a
great deal must be left to chance, and I must begin somewhere.
I fixed my eyes on a dormer window on the side towards the
canal, and about two-thirds of the way down. It was far enough
from the spot we had started from to make me think that the
loft it lighted was not connected with the prison I had broken
out of. It could light only an attic, inhabited or vacant, over
some room in the palace, where, when day should dawn, the
doors no doubt would be opened. I was morally certain that the
attendants in the palace, even those of the Doge himself, who
should happen to see us, would be eager to favor our escape
rather than place us in the hands of justice, even if they had
recognized us as the greatest of state criminals; so horrible was
the inquisition in their eyes.
With this idea I decided on inspecting that window; so, letting
myself slip gently down, I soon was astride on the little roof.
Then resting my hands on the edge, I stretched my head out
and succeeded in seeing and touching a little barred grating,
behind which there was a window glazed with small panes set
in lead. The window did not trouble me, but the grating, slight
as it was, seemed to me an insurmountable difficulty, for without
a file I could not get through the bars, and I only had my
crowbar. I was checked, and began to lose heart, when a per-
fectly simple and natural incident revived my spirit.
It was the clock of Saint Mark's at this moment striking mid-
night which roused my spirit, and by a sudden shock brought
me out of the perplexed frame of mind in which I found my-
self. That clock reminded me that the morning about to dawn
was that of All Saints' Day; that consequently of my saint's


## p. 3329 (#303) ###########################################

CASANOVA
3329
day if indeed I had a patron saint-and my Jesuit confessor's
prophecy recurred to my mind. But I own that what tended
most to restore my courage, and really increased my physical
powers, was the profaner oracle of my beloved Ariosto:
"Between the end of October and the beginning of November. "
If a great misfortune sometimes makes a small mind devout,
it is almost impossible that superstition should not have some
share in the matter. The sound of the clock seemed to me a
spoken charm which bade me act and promised me success. Ly-
ing flat on the roof with my head over the edge, I pushed my
bar in above the frame which held the grating, determined to
dislodge it bodily. In a quarter of an hour I had succeeded;
the grating was in my hands unbroken, and having laid it by
the side of the dormer I had no difficulty in breaking in the
window, though the blood was flowing from a wound I had
made in my left hand.
―――
By the help of my bar I got back to the ridge of the roof in
the same way as before, and made my way back to where I had
left my companion. I found him desperate and raging; he
abused me foully for having left him there so long. He declared
he was only waiting for seven to strike to go back to prison.
"What did you think had become of me? "
"I thought you had fallen down some roof or wall. "
"And you have no better way of expressing your joy at my
return than by abusing me? »
"What have you been doing all this time? "
"Come with me and you will see. "
Having gathered up my bundles, I made my way back to the
window. When we were just over it I explained to Balbi
exactly what I had done, and consulted him as to how we were
to get into the loft through the window. The thing was quite
easy for one of us; the other could let him down. But I did
not see how the second man was to follow him, as there was no
way of fixing the rope above the window. By going in and
letting myself drop I might break my legs and arms, for I did
not know the height of the window above the floor. To this
wise argument, spoken with perfect friendliness, the brute replied.
in these words: -
"Let me down, at any rate, and when I am in there you will
have plenty of time to find out how you can follow me. "
VI-209


## p. 3330 (#304) ###########################################

CASANOVA
3330
I confess that in my first impulse of indignation I was ready
to stab him with my crowbar. A good genius saved me from
doing so, and I did not even utter one word of reproach for his
selfishness and baseness. On the contrary, I at once unrolled
my bundle of rope, and fastening it firmly under his arm-pits I
made him lie flat on his face, his feet outwards, and then let
him down on to the roof of the dormer. When he was there, I
made him go over the edge and into the window as far as his
hips, leaving his arms on the sill. I next slipped down to the
little roof, as I had done before, lay down on my stomach, and
holding the rope firmly, told the monk to let himself go without
fear. When he had landed on the floor of the attic he undid
the rope, and I, pulling it up, found that the height was above
fifty feet. To jump this was too great a risk. As for the monk,
now he was safe after nearly two hours of anguish on a roof,
where, I must own, his situation was far from comfortable, he
called out to me to throw in the ropes and he would take care
of them. I, as may be supposed, took good care not to follow
this absurd injunction.
Not knowing what to do, and awaiting some inspiration, I
clambered once more to the ridge; and my eye falling on a spot
near a cupola, which I had not yet examined, I made my way
thither. I saw a little terrace or platform covered with lead,
close to a large window closed with shutters. There was here a
tub full of wet mortar with a trowel, and by the side a ladder,
which I thought would be long enough to enable me to get
down into the attic where my comrade was. This settled the
question. I slipped my rope through the top rung, and dragged
this awkward load as far as the window. I then had to get the
clumsy mass into the window; it was above twelve yards long.
The difficulty I had in doing it made me repent of having
deprived myself of Balbi's assistance. I pushed the ladder along
till one end was on the level of the dormer and the other pro-
jected by a third beyond the gutter. Then I slid down on to
the dormer roof; I drew the ladder close to my side and fast-
ened the rope to the eighth rung, after which I again allowed
it to slip till it was parallel with the window. Then I did all
I could to make it slip into the window, but I could not get it
beyond the fifth rung because the end caught against the inner
roof of the dormer, and no power on earth could get it any
further without breaking either the ladder or the roof. There


## p. 3331 (#305) ###########################################

CASANOVA
3331
was nothing for it but to tilt the outer end; then the slope
would allow it to slide in by its own weight. I might have
placed the ladder across the window and have fastened the rope
to it to let myself down, without any risk; but the ladder
would have remained there, and next morning would have guided
the archers and Lorenzo to the spot where we might still be
hiding.
I would not run the risk of losing by such an act of impru-
dence the fruit of so much labor and peril, and to conceal all
our traces the ladder must be got entirely into the window.
Having no one to help me, I decided on getting down to the
gutter to tilt it, and attain my end. This in fact I did, but at
so great a risk that but for a sort of miracle I should have paid
for my daring with my life. I ventured to let go of the cord
that was attached to the ladder without any fear of its falling
into the canal, because it was caught on the gutter by the third
rung. Then, with my crowbar in my hand, I cautiously let
myself slide down to the gutter by the side of the ladder; the
marble ledge was against my toes, for I let myself down with
my face to the roof. In this attitude I found strength enough
to lift the ladder a few inches, and I had the satisfaction of
seeing it go a foot further in. As the reader will understand,
this diminished its weight very perceptibly. What I now wanted
was to get it two feet further in, by lifting it enough; for after
that I felt sure that by climbing up to the roof of the dormer
once more, I could, with the help of the rope, get it all the way
in. To achieve this I raised myself from my knees; but the
force I was obliged to use to succeed made me slip, so that I
suddenly found myself over the edge of the roof as far as my
chest, supported only by my elbows.
It was
an awful moment, which to this day I shudder to
think of, and which it is perhaps impossible to conceive of in all
its horror. The natural instinct of self-preservation made me
almost unconsciously lean with all my weight, supporting myself
on my ribs, and I succeeded-miraculously, I felt inclined to
say. Taking care not to relax my hold, I managed to raise
myself with all the strength of my wrists, leaning at the same
time on my stomach. Happily there was nothing to fear for the
ladder, for the lucky or rather the unlucky-push which had
cost me so dear, had sent it in more than three feet, which
fixed it firmly. Finding myself resting on the gutter literally
___________


## p. 3332 (#306) ###########################################

3332
CASANOVA
on my wrists and my groin, I found that by moving my right
side I could raise first one knee and then the other on to the
parapet. Then I should be safe.
However, my troubles were not yet over, for the strain I
was obliged to exert in order to succeed gave me such a nerv-
ous spasm that a violent attack of painful cramp seemed to
cripple me completely. I did not lose my head, and remained
perfectly still till the spasm was over, knowing that perfect
stillness is the best cure for nervous cramps - I had often
found it so. It was a frightful moment. A few minutes after,
I gradually renewed my efforts. I succeeded in getting my
knees against the gutter, and as soon as I had recovered my
breath I carefully raised the ladder, and at last got it to the
angle where it was parallel with the window. Knowing enough
of the laws of equilibrium and the lever, I now picked up my
crowbar; and climbing in my old fashion, I hauled myself up to
the roof and easily succeeded in tilting in the ladder, which the
monk below received in his arms. I then flung in my clothes,
the ropes and the broken pieces, and got down into the attic,
where Balbi received me very heartily and took care to remove
the ladder.
Arm in arm, we surveyed the dark room in which we found
ourselves; it was thirty paces long by about twenty wide. At
one end we felt a double door formed of iron bars.
This was
unpromising, but laying my hand on the latch in the middle
it yielded to the pressure, and the door opened. We first felt
our way round this fresh room, and then, trying to cross it, ran
up against a table with arm-chairs and stools around it. We
returned to the side where we had felt windows, and having
opened one, by the dim starlight we could see nothing but steep
roofs between domes. I did not for an instant think of escaping
by the window; I must know where I was going, and I did not
recognize the spot where we were. So I closed the window, and
we went back to the first room, where we had left our baggage.
Quite worn out, I let myself drop on to the floor, and putting
a bundle of rope under my head, utterly bereft of all power of
body or of mind, I fell into a sweet sleep. I gave myself up to
it so passively, that even if I had known that death must be the
end of it I could not have resisted it; and I remember distinctly
that the pleasure of that sleep was perfectly delicious.


## p. 3333 (#307) ###########################################

3333
BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
(1474-1566)
B
ARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS, the Apostle of the Indians, was one
of the first to protest by speech and pen against the
hideous cruelties inflicted upon native West Indians by the
invading Spaniards; and he left in his writings the record of a bond-
age compared with which negro slavery was mild. Bartolomeo, the
son of Antonio de las Casas, a companion of Columbus on his first
voyage of discovery, was born in Seville in 1474.
While yet a

BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
student at the University of Salamanca he became interested in the
natives, through a young Indian whom he owned as slave. He first
visited the New World as one of the followers of Columbus in 149-,
returning after some years with Nicholas de Ovando, the governor of
the Indies. Here his sympathies were fully aroused, as he witnessed
the savage treatment of the simple natives and the incessant
butcheries and slavery in the mines, which were rapidly depopulating
the islands. In 1510 he took holy orders, being probably the first
priest ordained in the New World.
Las Casas at first was himself a slave-owner, willing to enrich
himself by the toil of the red men, though from the very beginning


## p. 3334 (#308) ###########################################

3334
BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
he sympathized with their sufferings. But a sudden illumination
came to him as he was preparing to preach a sermon on the Feast
of Pentecost, in 1514, taking for his text the 34th chapter of Ecclesi-
asticus, verses 18 to 22. He awoke to the iniquity of slavery, set
free his own Indians, and for forty years thereafter devoted himself
heart and soul to the interests of the red men. It was at times a
bitter task and made him many enemies among the invaders, who
thought themselves curtailed in their natural rights as the superior
race. Happily for his cause, Las Casas had powerful friends in
Spain, chief among whom was the Emperor Charles V. The good
priest crossed the ocean a dozen times to see that monarch on
Indian affairs, following him even into Germany and Austria. Finally
in 1547, when past his seventieth year, he settled down in Valladolid,
in Spain, but still wrote and talked in behalf of the oppressed race.
While on an errand for them to Madrid in 1566, he died at the ripe
age of ninety-two, with bodily faculties unimpaired.
The earliest work of Las Casas, 'A Very Short Account of the
Ruin of the Indies,' written in 1542, first disclosed to Europe the
cruelties practiced beyond the sea. It was frequently reprinted, and
made a great impression. Other short treatises followed, equally
powerful and effective. They were collected in 1552 and translated
into several languages. His chief work however is a General His-
tory of the Indies,' from 1492 to 1520, begun by him in 1527, un-
finished in 1561. He ordered that no portion should be printed until
forty years after his death, but it remained in manuscript for three
hundred years, being published at Madrid in 1875. It has been
called the corner-stone of the history of the American continent.
Las Casas possessed important documents, among them the papers
of Columbus, now lost. In his long life, moreover, he knew many
of the early discoverers and many statesmen, as Columbus, Cortes,
Ximenes, Pizarro, Gattinora, and he was the contemporary of three
sovereigns interested in the West Indies,- King Ferdinand the Cath-
olic, the Emperor Charles V. , and King Philip II. of Spain.
Las Casas is sometimes taxed with having brought negro slavery
into America. In his profound compassion for the Indians he main-
tained that the negroes were better fitted for slave labor than the
more delicate natives. But the Portuguese had imported African
slaves into the colonies long before Las Casas suggested it, while he
in time renounced his error, and frankly confesses it in his history.
He was a large-hearted, large-brained man, unprejudiced in an age
of bigotry; of unwearied industry and remarkable powers of physical
endurance that enabled him to live a life of many-sided activities, as
priest and missionary, colonist, man of business, and man of letters.
As a historian he was a keen observer of men and of nature, and


## p. 3335 (#309) ###########################################

BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
3335
chronicled with great exactness the social and physical conditions of
the countries he traversed. His merits are summed up in the follow-
ing words by John Fiske, in his 'Discovery of America': —
"He was one of the best historians of his time, and wrote a most attractive
Spanish style, quaint, pithy, and nervous,-
‚—a style which goes straight to the
mark and rings like true metal.
I do not mean to be understood as calling
it a literary style. It is not graceful like that of great masters of expression
such as Pascal or Voltaire. It is not seldom cumbrous and awkward, usually
through trying to say too much at once. But in spite of this it is far more
attractive than many a truly artistic literary style. There is a great charm in
reading what comes from a man brimful of knowledge and utterly unselfish
and honest. The crisp shrewdness, the gleams of gentle humor and occasional
sharp flashes of wit, and the fervid earnestness, in the books of Las Casas,
combine to make them very delightful. It was the unfailing sense of humor,
which is so often wanting in reformers, that kept Las Casas from devel-
oping into a fanatic. . . . In contemplating such a life as that of Las
Casas, all words of eulogy seem weak and frivolous. The historian can only
bow in reverent awe before a figure which is in some respects the most
beautiful and sublime in the annals of Christianity since the Apostolic age.
When now and then in the course of the centuries God's providence brings
such a life into this world, the memory of it must be cherished by mankind
as one of its most precious and sacred possessions. For the thoughts, the
words, the deeds of such men there is no death; the sphere of their influ-
ence goes on widening forever. They bud, they blossom, they bear fruit,
from age to age. "
OF THE ISLAND OF CUBA
From A Relation of the First Voyage'
HE Spaniards passed, in the year 1511, into the Island of
Cuba, contains as much ground in length as from
Valladolid to Rome. There were formerly fine and flour-
ishing provinces to be seen, filled with vast numbers of people,
who met with no milder or kinder treatment from the Spaniards
than the rest. On the contrary, they seemed to have redoubled
their cruelty upon those people. There happened divers things.
in this island that deserve to be remarked. A rich and potent
Cacique named Hatbuey was retired to the Island of Cuba to
avoid that slavery and death with which the Spaniards menaced
him; and being informed that his persecutors were upon the point
of landing in this island, he assembled all his subjects and
domestics together, and made a speech to 'em after this man-
ner: "You know," said he, "the report that is spread abroad


## p. 3336 (#310) ###########################################

3336
BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
that the Spaniards are ready to invade this island; and you are
not ignorant of the ill usage our friends and countrymen have
met with at their hands, and the cruelties they have committed
at Hayei. " (So Hispaniola is called in their language. ) "They
are now coming hither with a design to exercise the same out-
rages and persecutions upon us. Are you ignorant," says he,
"of the ill intentions of the people of whom I am speaking?
"We know not," say they all with one voice, "upon what
account they come hither, but we know they are a very wicked
and cruel people. " "I'll tell you then," replied the Cacique,
"that these Europeans worship a very covetous sort of god, so
that 'tis difficult to satisfy him; and to perform the worship they
render to this idol, they'll exact immense treasures of us, and
will use their utmost endeavor to reduce us to a miserable state
of slavery, or else to put us to death. " Upon which he took a
box full of gold and valuable jewels which he had with him; and
exposing it to their view,-"Here is,” says he, "the god of the
Spaniards, whom we must honor with our sports and dances, to
see if we can appease him, and render him propitious to us, that
so he may command the Spaniards not to offer us any injury. "
They all applauded this speech, and fell a-leaping and dancing
round the box, till they had quite tired and spent themselves.
After which the Cacique Hatbuey, resuming his discourse, con-
tinued to speak to them in these terms: "If we keep this God,"
says he, "till he's taken away from us, he'll certainly cause our
lives to be taken from us; and therefore I am of the opinion
'twill be the best way to cast him into the river. " They all
approved of this advice, and went all together with one accord to
throw this pretended god into the river.
The Spaniards were no sooner arrived in the Isle of Cuba but
this Cacique, who knew 'em too well, began to think of retreat-
ing to secure himself from their fury, and resolved to defend
himself by force of arms if he should happen to meet with them;
but he unfortunately fell into their hands; and because he had
taken all the precautions he could to avoid the persecutions of so
cruel and impious a people, and had taken arms to defend his
own life, as well as the lives of his subjects, this was made a
capital crime in him, for he was burned alive. While he was in
the midst of the flames, tied to a stake, a certain Franciscan
friar of great piety and virtue took upon him to speak to him of
God and our religion, and to explain to him some articles of the


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BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
3337
Catholic faith, of which he had never heard a word before; prom-
ising him eternal life if he would believe, and threatening him
with eternal torment if he continued obstinate in his infidelity.
Hatbuey, reflecting on the matter as much as the place and con-
dition in which he was would permit, asked the friar that in-
structed him whether the gate of heaven was opened to the
Spaniards; and being answered that such of them as were good
men might hope for entrance there, the Cacique without any
further deliberation told him he had no mind to go to heaven,
for fear of meeting with such cruel and wicked company as they
were; but would much rather choose to go to hell, where he
might be delivered from the troublesome sight of such kind of
people to so great a degree have the wicked actions and cruel-
ties of the Spaniards dishonored God and his religion in the
minds of the Americans.
One day there came to us a great number of the inhabitants
of a famous city, situate about ten leagues from the place where
we lodged, to compliment us and bring us all sort of provisions
and refreshments, which they presented us with great marks of
joy, caressing us after the most obliging manner they could.
But that evil spirit that possessed the Spaniards put 'em into
such a sudden fury against 'em, that they fell upon 'em and
massacred above three thousand of 'em, both men and women,
upon the spot, without having received the least offense and
provocation from 'em. I was an eye-witness of this barbarity:
and whatever endeavors were used to appease these inhuman
creatures, 'twas impossible to reduce 'em to reason; so resolutely
were they bent to satiate their brutal rage by this barbarous
action.
Soon after this I sent messengers to the most noted Indians
of the Province of Havane, to encourage and engage 'em to con-
tinue in their country, and not to trouble themselves to seek
remote places to hide in; and advised 'em to come to us with
assurance of our protection. They knew well enough what au-
thority I had over the Spaniards, and I gave 'em my word no
injury should be offered 'em: for the past cruelties and massacres
their countrymen had suffered, had spread fear and terror through
all the country; and this assurance I gave 'em was with the
consent and advice of the captains and the officers. When we
entered into this province, two-and-twenty of their chiefs came
to us, and the very next morning the commander of our troops,


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3338
BARTOLOMEO DE LAS CASAS
without any regard to the promise that had been made 'em,
would needs sentence 'em to be burnt, pretending 'twas best to
put these people to death, because they might one time or other
use some stratagem to surprise and destroy us: and I had all the
difficulty in the world to prevent 'em from throwing 'em into
the fire.
The Indians of Havane, seeing themselves reduced to a state
of severe slavery, and that there was no remedy left, but they
were irrecoverably undone, began to take refuge in the deserts
and mountains to secure themselves if possible from death;
some strangled themselves in despair. Parents hanged them-
selves together with their children, to put the speedier end to
their misery by death. Above two hundred Indians perished
here after this manner to avoid the cruelty of the Spaniards, and
abundance of them afterwards voluntarily condemned themselves
to this kind of death, hoping thus in a moment to put a period
to the miseries their persecutors inflicted on 'em.
A certain Spaniard, who had the title of Sovereign in this
island and had three hundred Indians in his service, destroyed a
hundred and sixty of them in less than three months by the
excessive labor he continually exacted of them. The recruits he
took to fill up their places were destroyed after the same man-
ner; and he would in a short time have unpeopled the whole
island if death, which took him out of the way, very happily for
those poor wretches, had not sheltered 'em from his cruelties. I
saw with my own eyes above six thousand children die in the
space of three or four months, their parents being forced to
abandon 'em, being condemned to the mines. After this the
Spaniards took up a resolution to pursue those Indians that were
retired into the mountains, and massacred multitudes of 'em;
so that this island was depopulated and laid waste in a very
little time. And it is a most lamentable spectacle to see so fine
a country thus miserably ruined and unpeopled.


## p. 3339 (#313) ###########################################

3339
BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
(1478-1529)
HE interest to be found in the literary work of "il conte Bal-
dassare Castiglione "-in the one prose volume he wrote,
'Il Cortegiano' (The Courtier) - arises not only from the
historical value it now has, but from its representing the charming
character of a gentleman. And it does this not merely by inten-
tionally describing the ideal gentleman of the fifteenth century, but
by unconsciously revealing the character of its author. Castiglione
was himself distinctively a gentleman. Without eminent abilities or
position, his life unmarked by any remark-
able deeds or any striking events, he yet
deserves remembrance as making vivid to
us those admirable qualities and conditions
which are the result, in individuals, of the
long moral and intellectual cultivation of a
large group of men and women.
CASTIGLIONE
He was one of the group that made fa-
mous the court of Urbino, not at the time
of its greatest glory under Duke Frederic
II. , but just afterward, when the duchy
was ruled by Frederic's son Guidobaldo-
an estimable invalid-and the court was
presided over by Guidobaldo's wife, the
much beloved and admired Duchess Elisabetta, one of the great Gon-
zaga family. Castiglione's own sketch of this court (see translation
below) renders any other delineation of it supererogatory; but his
silence regarding himself personally makes it necessary to gather
knowledge of his life from other sources. His person is made known
to us by Raffael's interesting portrait of him, now in the Louvre,
painted in 1515. It is a portrait by a friend. Raffael was only five
years younger than Castiglione, and their affectionate relations were
of long standing.

Castiglione was the son of a valorous soldier who fought by the
side of the Marquis Francesco Gonzaga of Mantua, but his early youth
was spent not at Mantua but at Milan, where he received from famous
scholars - Demetrio Calcondile and his peers-a brilliant classical
education, rather than the training one would look for in his father's
son. His father's death in 1494 obliged him, in those troublous times,
-


## p. 3340 (#314) ###########################################

3340
BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
to seek a protector. As his mother was distantly connected with his
father's friends, the rulers of Mantua, it was to them that his eyes
turned, and in 1499 he was one of the suite of the Marquis on the
occasion of the triumphal entrance of Louis XII. of France into Milan
after his conquest in three weeks of the duchy; a triumph followed
by the hideous ten-years' "caging" of Lodovico il Moro, Milan's duke.
Such spectacles as this triumph and this imprisonment, which the
boy of twenty-one now beheld, were to be familiar to him all his life.
The king-like pope Alexander VI. and his son Cæsar Borgia, the war-
rior Julius II. , the Medici Leo X. , the soon-dead Adrian VI. , and
the irresolute Clement VII. , successively ruled in Rome, or rather
dwelt in Rome, the Cloaca Maxima of Italy, whose pollution sapped
the strength of all the land. The sack of Rome in 1527 was among
the last of the long series of Italian woes Castiglione witnessed.
He was not in Italy at that moment. The last five years of his life
were spent at Madrid as papal nuncio at the court of Charles V.
He went thither on the eve of the battle of Pavia, and the imprison-
ment there of Francis I. soon followed; an imprisonment that seems
a terrible echo of that of the enemy of France a quarter of century
before.
'Il Cortegiano' was written in the intervals of military and diplo-
matic services, rendered first to Guidobaldo of Urbino and later to
Frederic of Mantua, the son of Francesco. The book was begun
probably about 1514; it received the last touches in 1524, but it was
not published until 1528.
The dialogues that compose the book are feigned to have occurred
in the winter of 1506-7. At that time the author was in England,
an envoy from the Duke of Urbino to Henry VII. , sent as the Duke's
proxy to be installed as Companion of the Garter. He carried with
him splendid gifts for the King, fine falcons, beautiful horses, and
a picture by Raffael-St. George and the Dragon, in which St.
George wears "the Garter. »
Castiglione's public labors had made him well known, when be-
tween him and his high-born friends there was talk of his marriage
with a daughter of the house of Medici; but political influences
caused her to be given by preference to a Strozzi. Had this alliance
been formed, Castiglione would have found himself, in later years,
the nephew of two popes and the uncle of a queen of France. But
better luck was in keeping for him. In 1516 he had the singular
good fortune to make a marriage of tender affection; but his wife
died only four years later: from that time his chief pleasure was
in the society of his friends.
They numbered all the most distinguished Italians of his day;
men whose intellectual powers found artistic expression alike in


## p. 3341 (#315) ###########################################

BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
3341
words, or the painter's canvas, or the sculptor's marble, or the archi-
tect's stone: and it is the reflection of this wide and varied com-
panionship that gives charm and also weight to the pages of 'Il
Cortegiano. ' A more delicate delightfulness comes from the tone of
liberal refinement with which the impression is conveyed of singularly
ennobling intercourse with women.
Castiglione was the contemporary and the friend of the famous
Marchioness of Pescara, Vittoria Colonna; of the brilliant Isabella
d'Este, Marchioness of Mantua, whose daughter, the beautiful Duchess
of Urbino, is immortalized by Titian's many portraits of her, both as
she was in youth and in age, and also as in youth he saw her ideal-
ized. This Duchess of Urbino was the niece of Castiglione's own
Duchess Elisabetta; and by marriage with the nephew of Guidobaldo
she became the successor of Elisabetta. These great ladies were in-
volved by family ties in all the stirring events of their times. Isa-
bella d'Este was the aunt of Constable Bourbon and the sister-in-law
of Lucrezia Borgia. Vittoria Colonna's husband was the cousin of
the famous Alfonso d'Avalos (Marquis del Vasto) of Spain: and in
the entangled interests of these personages and of the rulers of
Urbino, Castiglione was constantly concerned and occupied.
His counsels were also sought by Giuliano de' Medici - styled,
like his father, "Il Magnifico"-sitting now, ever, in helpless dignity
on his San Lorenzo tomb, "mentre che il danno e la vergogna dura";
and by the unfortunate Doge of Genoa, Ottaviano Fregoso; or by the
participants in the learned discussions carried on by Cardinal Bembo,
with whom he made a gay excursion to Tivoli in 1516, in company
with Raffael and the illustrious Venetian Andrea Navigero and his
friend Agostino Beazzano, whose portraits on the same canvas are
one of Raffael's masterpieces. Another ecclesiastical friend was Car-
dinal Bibbiena, who appears nowhere to more advantage than in a
letter to the Marchioness of Mantua, describing Castiglione's grief,
and that of his friends, at the news that the Marchioness herself
had sent them of the death of Castiglione's wife. The same year the
Cardinal himself died. It was the year of Raffael's death also, and
Castiglione felt himself greatly bereft. The Italian Bishop of Bayeux,
Ludovico Canossa,-papal nuncio in France and French ambassador
at Venice, was a cousin of Castiglione's mother and in constant
relations with the son; and it is to him that in what may be called
the "drama" of 'Il Cortegiano' is gayly assigned the task of mak-
ing the first sketch of "the perfect courtier. "
From such social relations came Castiglione's wide familiarity and
sound judgment respecting the various worlds of men, of women,
and of art. The higher qualities his book gives evidence of - the
love of simplicity, purity, sincerity, serenity, kindness, courtesy,


## p. 3342 (#316) ###########################################

3342
BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
moderation, modesty, the appreciation of what is graceful, gay, deli-
cate, these qualities were truly hi own: we know not whence he
derived them.
――――――
Something should be said of the style in which the book is writ-
ten. Its author tells us that one of the principal criticisms made
upon it while it circulated for many years in manuscript, was that
its language was not the language of Boccaccio, who was then ac-
cepted as the model for Italian prose-writers. Castiglione did not
bind himself to the manner of the Tuscan speech. He was of Lom-
bard birth and habit, and he chose-in the faith of which Montaigne
is the great defender- the words, the phrases, the constructions that
best fitted his thought, no matter whence he gathered them, if only
they were familiar and expressive. He thus gained the force of free-
dom and the grace of variety, while the customary elegance and the
habitual long-windedness of all Italian writers molds his sentences
and makes them difficult of translation.
There have been few translations made of his book; none (pub-
lished) as yet, of any literary value; and Castiglione has not been
much known out of Italy. One of the few mentions of him in Eng-
lish literature is to be found in Donne, Satire v. , and it touches on
a characteristic page of his book, for it notes:-
-
"He which did lay
Rules to make courtiers (he, being understood,
May make good courtiers, but who courtiers good? )
Frees from the sting of jests all who in extreme
Are wretched or wicked. "
In his own country Castiglione's fame has always been consider-
able. Ariosto-to whose brother Alfonso, "Messer Alfonso carissimo,"
the four books of 'Il Cortegiano' are dedicated and at whose desire
it was written-Ariosto in his great poem speaks of Castiglione
more than once; but a passage in Tasso's dialogue 'Della Corte' does
him fit honor:-"I do not deem that Castiglione wrote for the men
of his own day only:
the beauty of his writings deserves
that in all ages they should be read and praised; and as long as
courts shall endure, as long as princes, ladies, and noble gentlemen
shall meet together, as long as valor and courtesy shall abide in our
hearts, the name of Castiglione will be valued. "


## p. 3343 (#317) ###########################################

BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
OF THE COURT OF URBINO
From I Cortegiano'
3343
N THE slopes of the Apennines, towards the Adriatic Sea,
ON almost in the centre of Italy, there lies (as every one
knows) the little city of Urbino. Although surrounded by
mountains, and rougher ones than perhaps some others that we
see in many places, it has yet enjoyed such favor of heaven that
the country round about is very fertile and rich in crops; so that
besides the salubrity of the air, there is great abundance of
everything needful for human life. But among the greatest
blessings that can be attributed to it, this I think to be the
chief, that for a long time it has ever been ruled by the best of
lords; insomuch that in the universal calamities of the wars of
Italy, it still for a space remained exempt. But without seeking
further, we can give good proof of this in the glorious memory
of the Duke Federigo, who in his day was the light of Italy;
nor is there lack of credible and abundant witnesses, who are
still living, to his prudence, humanity, justice, liberality, uncon-
quered courage, and military discipline; which are conspicuously
attested by his numerous victories, his capture of impregnable
places, the sudden swiftness of his expeditions, the frequency
with which he put to flight large and formidable armies by
means of a very small force, and by his loss of no single battle
whatever; so that we may not unreasonably compare him to
many famous ancients.
Among his other praiseworthy deeds, the Duke Federigo
built on the rugged site of Urbino a palace, regarded by many
as the most beautiful to be found in all Italy; and he so well
furnished it with every suitable thing, that it seemed not a palace
but a city in the form of a palace; and not merely with what is
ordinarily used, such as silver vases, hangings of richest cloth
of gold and silk, and other similar things,-but for ornament he
added an infinity of antique statues in marble and bronze, pictures
most choice, and musical instruments of every sort; nor would
he admit anything there that was not very rare and excellent.
Then at very large cost he collected a great number of most
excellent and rare books in Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, all of
which he adorned with gold and with silver, esteeming this to
be the supreme excellence of his great palace.


## p. 3344 (#318) ###########################################

3344
BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
Following at last the course of nature, and already sixty-five
years old, he died as he had lived, gloriously; and he left as his
successor a little motherless boy of ten years, his only son Guido-
baldo. Heir to his father's state, he seemed to be heir also to
all his father's virtues, and soon his noble nature gave such
promise as seemed not to be hoped for from mortal man; SO
that men esteemed none among the extraordinary deeds of the
Duke Federigo to be greater than to have begotten such a son.
But envious of so much virtue, fortune thwarted this glorious.
beginning with all her might; so that before Duke Guido reached
the age of twenty years he fell ill of the gout, which grew upon
him with grievous pain, and in a short space of time so crippled
all his limbs that he could neither stand upon his feet nor
move; and thus one of the most beautiful and active forms in
the world was disfigured and spoiled in tender youth.
And not yet content with this, fortune was so adverse to him
in all his plans that he could seldom carry to a conclusion any-
thing that he desired; and although he was most wise of counsel
and unconquered in spirit, it seemed that what he undertook,
both in war and in everything else, whether small or great,
always ended ill for him: and proof of this is given in his many
and diverse calamities, which he ever bore with such strength of
mind that his spirit was never vanquished by fortune; nay,
scorning her assaults with unbroken courage, he lived in weak-
ness as though strong, and in adversity as though fortunate,
with perfect dignity and universal esteem, so that although he
was thus infirm of body, he fought with most honorable rank in
the service of their Serene Highnesses the Kings of Naples,
Alfonso and Fernando the Younger; later with Pope Alexander
VI. , and with the Venetian and Florentine nobles.
After the accession of Julius II. to the Pontificate, he was
made Captain of the Church; at which time, following his accus-
tomed style, above all else he took care to fill his household
with very noble and valiant gentlemen, with whom he lived most
familiarly, delighting in their conversation; wherein the pleasure
he gave to others was not less than that he received from others,
he being well versed in both the learned languages, and uniting
affability and agreeableness to a knowledge of things without
number; and besides this, the greatness of his spirit so animated
him that although he could not practice in person the exercises
of horsemanship, as he once had done, yet he took the utmost


## p. 3345 (#319) ###########################################

BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
3345
pleasure in seeing them in others; and by his words, now cor-
recting, now praising each according to desert, he clearly showed
how much judgment he had in those matters; wherefore in
jousts and tournaments, in riding, in the handling of every sort
of weapon, as well as in pastimes, games, and music,-in short,
in all the exercises proper to noble gentlemen,- every one strove
so to carry himself as to merit being deemed worthy of such
noble fellowship.
All the hours of the day were assigned to honorable and
pleasant exercises, as well for the body as for the mind; but
since my lord Duke was always wont by reason of his infirmity
to retire to sleep very early after supper, every one usually
betook himself at that hour to the presence of my lady Duchess,
Elisabetta Gonzaga; where also was ever to be found my lady
Emilia Pia, who was endowed with such lively wit and sound
judgment that, as you know, she seemed the mistress of us all,
and that every one gained wisdom and worth from her. Here,
then, gentle discussions and innocent pleasantries were heard,
and on the face of every one a jocund gayety was seen depicted,
so that the house could truly be called the very abode of mirth:
nor ever elsewhere, I think, was so relished, as once was here,
how great may be the sweetness of dear and cherished compan-
ionship; for apart from the honor it was to each of us to serve
such a lord as he of whom I have just spoken, there was born
in the hearts of all a supreme contentment every time we came
into the presence of my lady Duchess; and it seemed as though
this contentment were a chain that held us all united in love, so
that never was concord of will or cordial love between brothers
greater than that which here was between us all.
The same was it among the ladies, with whom there was
intercourse most free and honorable; for every one was permitted
to talk, sit, jest, and laugh with whom he pleased; but such
was the reverence paid to the wish of my lady Duchess, that
this same liberty was a very great check; nor was there any one
who did not esteem it the utmost pleasure he could have in
the world to please her, and the utmost pain to displease her.
And thus most decorous manners were here joined with the
greatest liberty, and games and laughter in her presence were
seasoned not only with keenest wit, but with gracious and sober
dignity; for that purity and loftiness which governed all the
acts, words, and gestures of my lady Duchess, bantering and
VI-210


## p. 3346 (#320) ###########################################

3346
BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE
laughing, were such that she would have been known for a lady
of noblest rank by any one who saw her even but once. And
impressing herself thus upon those about her, she seemed to
attune us all to her own quality and pitch: accordingly each
strove to follow this example, taking as it were a pattern of
beautiful behavior from the bearing of so great and virtuous a
lady; whose highest qualities I do not now purpose to recount,
they not being my theme and being well known to all the
world, and far more because I could not express them with
either tongue or pen; and those that perhaps might have been
somewhat hid, fortune, as though wondering at such rare virtue,
chose to reveal through many adversities and stings of calamity;
SO as to give proof that in the tender breast of a woman, in
company with singular beauty, there may abide prudence and
strength of soul and all those virtues that even among stern
men are very rare.
But continuing, I say that the custom of all the gentlemen of
the household was to betake themselves straightway after supper
to my lady Duchess; where, among the other pleasant pastimes
and music and dancing that continually were practiced, sometimes
entertaining questions were proposed, sometimes ingenious games
were devised with one or another as arbiter, in which under
various disguises the company disclosed their thoughts figuratively
to whomsoever pleased them best. Sometimes other discussions
arose about different matters, or biting retorts passed lightly back
and forth; often imprese, as we now call them, were displayed.
And in these verbal contests there was wonderful diversion, the
household being (as I have said) full of very noble talents;
among whom (as you know) the most famous were my lord
Ottaviano Fregoso, his brother Messer Federigo, the Magnifico
Giuliano de' Medici, Messer Pietro Bembo, Messer Cesare Gon-
zaga, the Count Ludovico da Canossa, my lord Gaspar Pallavicino,
my lord Ludovico Pio, my lord Morello da Ortona, Pietro da
Napoli, Messer Roberto da Bari, and countless other very noble
gentlemen. Moreover there were many who, though usually they
did not remain there constantly, yet spent most of the time there;
like Messer Bernardo Bibbiena, the Unico Aretino, Joan Cristo-
foro Romano, Pietro Monte, Terpandro, Messer Nicolo Frisio; so
that there always flocked thither poets, musicians, and all kinds
of agreeable men, and the most eminent in ability that were to
be found in Italy.


## p. 3347 (#321) ###########################################

3347
CATO THE CENSOR
(234-149 B. C. )
OR many reasons, Cato "the Censor" can hardly be wholly
ignored in any adequate general view of literature. If
we look to the chance of survival as a test of vitality, his
practical and juiceless book on Agriculture is the oldest volume of
Latin prose extant; though we can hardly speak of it as still existing
in the form given it by Cato. It appears to have been cruelly
"modernized" in outward form about the time of Augustus. Again,
the sturdy old supporter of Roman simplicity was the first Italian to
publish a collection of orations. A hundred and fifty speeches were
known to Cicero. Fragments of eighty still survive; though in many
cases they are represented merely by citations given incidentally by
some late grammarian, to prove the existence of some rare word or
antiquated form. Again, the 'Origines' of Cato would not only have
afforded us, if preserved, welcome light upon the beginnings of Rome
and many other Italian cities, but a political and military history,
brought down to Cato's own day, and especially valuable for its fear-
less treatment of recent events. Indeed, his own actual speeches
were taken up into the history, and one of them, as partly preserved
by Aulus Gellius, furnishes the best example we have of the straight-
forward unadorned oratory of early Rome. There is reason to believe,
even, that Cato left what we may fairly call an encyclopædia, - dedi-
cated to, and compiled for, his son. At any rate, he wrote largely
not to mention works already alluded to- on eloquence, medicine,
the military art, etc.
Yet it must be confessed that Cato illustrates, as strikingly as any
figure that could be selected, how little at home the true literary
artist would have found himself in early Latium, if a perverse fate
had made it possible for him to be born there, or to stray thither,
at all. Even his figure and face were repellent enough to stand
between Socrates and Samuel Johnson, as the most familiar ugly old
men upon the stage of the world's life.
"Porcius, fiery-haired, gray-eyed, and snarling at all men,-»
says the unforgiving satirist, is unwelcome even when dead, to Per-
sephone in Hades! No authentic portrait-statue of him exists. Indeed
these Roman busts and figures, especially in the earlier time, were
the work of Greek artists, and the likelihood of his giving a sitting
to one of that race is exceedingly small.


## p. 3348 (#322) ###########################################

3348
CATO THE CENSOR
The only work of Cato's which from its title might seem to have
had a poetic form was the 'Carmen de Moribus. ' It seems to have
been a eulogy upon old Roman simplicity. Not only are the extant
fragments in prosaic prose, but the most famous of them declares,
with evident regret over his own gentler days of degeneracy: "Their
custom was to be dressed in public respectably, at home so much as
was needful. They paid more for horses than for cooks. The poet's
art was in no honor. If a man was devoted to it, or applied himself
to conviviality, he was called a vagabond! "
Indeed, Cato's activity in literature probably had for its chief
end and aim to resist the incoming tide of Greek philosophy and of
refinement generally; he is the very type of Horace's "laudator tem-
poris acti," "the eulogist of a bygone time": that crude heroic time
when Dentatus, hero of three triumphs, ate boiled turnips in his
chimney-corner, and had no use for Macedonian gold.
Whether there was any important mass of ballads or other purely
national Roman or Latin literature in that elder day has been much
debated. The general voice of scholars is against Niebuhr and Mac-
aulay. There is every indication that the practical, unimaginative
Latin plowmen and spearsmen received the very alphabet of every
art from vanquished Hellas. Much of this same debate has turned
on a fragment from Cato. Cicero reports: -"In his 'Origines' Cato
said that it had been a custom of the forefathers, for those who
reclined at banquet to sing to the flute the praises and merits of
illustrious heroes. " The combination of conviviality and song in this
passage tempts us to connect it with the scornful words from Cato's
own 'Carmen,' already cited! Cato was half right, no doubt. The
simple charm and vigor of rustic Latium were threatened; Greek
vice and Oriental luxury were dangerous gifts: but his resistance was
as hopeless as Canute's protest to the encroaching waves. That this
resistance was offered even to the great Greek literature itself, is
unquestionable.
"I will speak of those Greeks in a suitable place, son Marcus, telling what
I learned at Athens, and what benefit it is to look into their books,—not to
master them. I shall prove them a most worthless and unteachable (! ) race.
Believe that this is uttered by a prophet: whenever that folk imparts its
literature, it will corrupt everything. "
The harsh, narrow, intolerant nature of Cato is as remote as could
well be from the scholarly or literary temper. Even his respectful
biographer Plutarch bursts out with indignant protest against the
thrifty advice to sell off slaves who had grown old in service.
deed, most of Cato's sayings remind us of some canny old Scot, or
it may be politer to say-of a hard-headed Yankee farmer, living out
the precepts of Poor Richard's philosophy.
In-


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CATO THE CENSOR
3349
"Grip the subject: words will follow," is his chief contribution to
rhetoric. Another has, it must be confessed, more of Quintilian's
flavor: "An orator, son Marcus, is a good man skilled in speaking. "
He is most at home however upon his farm, preaching such famil-
iar economies as "Buy not what you need, but what you must have:
what you do not need is dear at a penny. " The nearest approach to
wit is but a sarcastic consciousness of human weakness, like the
maxim "Praise large farms, but till a small one"; the form of
which, by the way, is strikingly like the advice given long before by
a kindred spirit, the Ascræan farmer Hesiod:-
-:
"Praise thou a little vessel, and store thy freight in a large one! "
Even the kindness of Cato has a bitter flavor peculiarly Roman.
When the great Greek historian Polybius and his fellow exiles were
finally permitted to return to their native land, Cato turned the scale
toward mercy in the Senate with the haughty words, "As though
we had nothing to do, we sit here discussing whether some old
Greeks shall be carried to their graves here or in Achaia! " There
was a touch of real humor, and perhaps of real culture too, in his
retort when Polybius asked in addition for the restoration of civic
honors held in Greece seventeen years agone. "Polybius," he said,
with a smile, "wishes to venture again into the Cyclops's cave,
because he forgot his cap and belt. " A few touches like this permit
us to like, as well as to admire, this grim and harsh pattern of old
simplicity.
Whether "Cato learned Greek at eighty" as a grudging concession
to the spirit of the age, or to obtain weapons from the foe's own
armory wherewith to combat his influence, we
need not argue.
Indeed, it is nearly certain that any special study at that time could
have been only a revival of "what he learned at Athens" many
years earlier.
It is however a supreme touch of irony in Cato's fate, that he
rendered, doubtless unconsciously, a greater service to Hellenistic
culture in Rome than did even his illustrious younger contemporary
Scipio Emilianus, the patron of Terence and the generous friend of
Polybius; for it was our Cato who brought in his train from Sardinia
the gallant young soldier afterward known as the poet Ennius, - the
creator of the Latin hexameter, of the artistic Roman epic, and in
general the man who more than any other made Greek poetry, and
even Greek philosophy, well known and respected among all educated
Romans.
Cato is chiefly known to us through Plutarch, whose sketch shows
the tolerance of that beloved writer toward the savage enemy of
Hellenism. The charming central figure of Cicero's dialogue on 'Old


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