Ab urbe condita 1.1
Whether the task I have undertaken of writing a complete history of the
Roman people from the very commencement of its existence will reward me
for the labour spent on it, I neither know for certain, nor if I did
know would I venture to say. For I see that this is an old-established
and a common practice, each fresh writer being invariably persuaded
that he will either attain greater certainty in the materials of his
narrative, or surpass the rudeness of antiquity in the excellence of
his style. However this may be, it will still be a great satisfaction
to me to have taken my part, too, in investing, to the utmost of my
abilities, the annals of the foremost nation in the world with a deeper
interest; and if in such a crowd of writers my own reputation is thrown
into the shade, I would console myself with the renown and greatness of
those who eclipse my fame. The subject, moreover, is one that demands
immense labour. It goes back beyond 700 years and, after starting from
small and humble beginnings, has grown to such dimensions that it
begins to be overburdened by its greatness. I have very little doubt,
too, that for the majority of my readers the earliest times and those
immediately succeeding, will possess little attraction; they will hurry
on to these modern days in which the might of a long paramount nation
is wasting by internal decay. I, on the other hand, shall look for a
further reward of my labours in being able to close my eyes to the
evils which our generation has witnessed for so many years; so long, at
least, as I am devoting all my thoughts to retracing those pristine
records, free from all the anxiety which can disturb the historian of
his own times even if it cannot warp him from the truth.
The traditions of what happened prior to the foundation of the City or
whilst it was being built, are more fitted to adorn the creations of
the poet than the authentic records of the historian, and I have no
intention of establishing either their truth or their falsehood. This
much licence is conceded to the ancients, that by intermingling human
actions with divine they may confer a more august dignity on the
origins of states. Now, if any nation ought to be allowed to claim a
sacred origin and point back to a divine paternity that nation is Rome.
For such is her renown in war that when she chooses to represent Mars
as her own and her founder's father, the nations of the world accept
the statement with the same equanimity with which they accept her
dominion. But whatever opinions may be formed or criticisms passed upon
these and similar traditions, I regard them as of small importance. The
subjects to which I would ask each of my readers to devote his earnest
attention are these-the life and morals of the community; the men and
the qualities by which through domestic policy and foreign war dominion
was won and extended. Then as the standard of morality gradually
lowers, let him follow the decay of the national character, observing
how at first it slowly sinks, then slips downward more and more
rapidly, and finally begins to plunge into headlong ruin, until he
reaches these days, in which we can bear neither our diseases nor their
remedies.
There is this exceptionally beneficial and fruitful advantage to be
derived from the study of the past, that you see, set in the clear
light of historical truth, examples of every possible type. From these
you may select for yourself and your country what to imitate, and also
what, as being mischievous in its inception and disastrous in its
issues, you are to avoid. Unless, however, I am misled by affection for
my undertaking, there has never existed any commonwealth greater in
power, with a purer morality, or more fertile in good examples; or any
state in which avarice and luxury have been so late in making their
inroads, or poverty and frugality so highly and continuously honoured,
showing so clearly that the less wealth men possessed the less they
coveted. In these latter years wealth has brought avarice in its train,
and the unlimited command of pleasure has created in men a passion for
ruining themselves and everything else through self-indulgence and
licentiousness. But criticisms which will be unwelcome, even when
perhaps necessary, must not appear in the commencement at all events of
this extensive work. We should much prefer to start with favourable
omens, and if we could have adopted the poets' custom, it would have
been much pleasanter to commence with prayers and supplications to gods
and goddesses that they would grant a favourable and successful issue
to the great task before us.
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