A.D. 90. The year was now arrived when to the lot of Agricola was to fall the Proconsulship of Asia or of Africa: and, as Civica had been lately murdered (even whilst Proconsul of the former Province), Agricola was neither unprepared what course to pursue, nor Domitian unfurnished with an example to follow. It happened too, that certain persons, men apprised of the secret purposes of the Prince, made it their business to accost Agricola and ask him, whether he meant in earnest to take possession of his Province. Nay, they began, at first indeed with some reserve, to extol a life of tranquillity and repose; anon they proffered their good offices to procure his demission and excuse: at last, throwing off all disguise, and proceeding at once to dissuade and to intimidate him, they prevailed with him to be carried, with this as his suit, to Domitian. He, already prepared to dissemble his sentiments, and assuming a mien of haughtiness, not only received the petition of Agricola to be excused, but when he had granted it, suffered himself to be presented with formal thanks, Nor was he ashamed of conferring a grace so unpopular and odious. To Agricola however he gave not the salary which was wont to be paid to Proconsuls, and which he himself had continued to some. Whether he were affronted that it was not asked, or whether restrained by his own guilty mind, lest he might seem to have purchased with money what he had hindered by his interposition and power. It is the nature of men, that whomsoever they injure they hate. Now Domitian was in his temper apt to be suddenly transported into rage, and, in proportion as he smothered his vengeance, the more irreconcilable he always certainly proved. Yet by the prudence and moderation of Agricola, he was softened. For, by no contumacy of his, nor by any vain ostentation of a spirit of liberty ill-timed, did he court fame or urge his fate. Let such who are wont to admire things daring and forbidden, know, that even under evil Princes great men may be produced, and that by the means of modesty and observance, provided these be accompanied with application and vigour, they may rise to an equal measure of public estimation and praise with that of many, who through a conduct very stubborn and precipitate, but of no advantage to the Commonweal, have distinguished themselves by dying only to gain a great name.
A.D. 93. Afflicting to us his family proved the end of his life, sorrowful to his friends; and even to foreigners and such as knew him not, matter of trouble and condolence. The commonalty likewise, and such people as were void of employment, {Footnote: Or it may be thus translated: "The body of the people though chiefly intent upon such affairs as concerned not the State."—GORDON. Burnouf is better: "Ce peuple, qu'occupent d'autres intérêts."} were not only frequent in their visits to his house, but in all public places, in all particular companies made him the subject of their conversation. Nor, when his death was divulged, was there a soul found who either rejoiced at it, or presently forgot it. What heightened the public commiseration and concern, was a prevailing rumour that he was despatched by poison. That there was any proof of this, I dare not aver. Yet it is true, that during the whole course of his illness, Domitian caused frequent visits to be made him, indeed much more frequent than Princes are wont to make, both by his favourite freedmen and most trusty physicians; whether through real concern for his health, or solicitude to learn the probability of his death. It is well known that on the day in which he expired, continual accounts were, by messengers purposely placed, every instant transmitted to the Emperor, how fast his end was approaching; and no one believed, that he would thus quicken such tidings, had he been to feel any sorrow from hearing them. In his face however and even in his spirit, he affected to show some guise of grief; for, he was now secure against the object of his hate, and could more easily dissemble his present joy, than lately his fear. It was abundantly notorious how much it rejoiced him, upon reading the last will of Agricola, to find himself left joint heir with his excellent wife and tender daughter. This he took to have been done out of judgment and choice, and in pure honour to himself. So blind and corrupt was his mind rendered by continual flattery, as not to know, that to no Prince but a bad one will any good father bequeath his fortune.
Agricola was born on the 13th of June, during the third Consulship of the Emperor Caligula. He died on the 24th of August, during the Consulship of Collega and Priscus, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. If posterity be desirous to know his make and stature; in his person he was rather genteel and regular than tall. {Footnote: Decentior quam sublimior fuit.} In his aspect there was nothing terrible. His looks were extremely graceful and pleasing. A good man you would have readily believed him, and been glad to have found that he was a great man. Nay, though he was snatched away whilst his age was yet in full vigour, if however his life be measured by his glory, he attained to a mighty length of days. For, every true felicity and acquisition, namely, all such as arise from virtue, he had already enjoyed to the full. As he had been likewise dignified with the Consular and triumphal honours, what more could fortune add to his lustre and renown? After enormous wealth he sought not: an honourable share he possessed. As behind him he left surviving his daughter and his wife, he may be even accounted happy; since by dying whilst his credit was nowise impaired, his fame in its full splendour, his relations and friends yet in a state of security, he escaped the evils to come. For, as before us he was wont to express his wishes, that he might survive to see this truly blessed Age, and Trajan swaying the sovereignty, wishes which he uttered with presages as of what would surely ensue; so it was a wondrous consolation attending the quickness of his death, that thence he evaded the misery of the latter times, when Domitian, who had ceased to exert his tyranny by starts only and intermissions, was come now to rend the Commonwealth by cruelties without all respite, and to overthrow it as it were by one great and deadly stroke.
For, Agricola saw not the Court of the Senate besieged, nor the Senate enclosed by armed men, nor the butchery of so many men of Consular dignity, nor the flight and exile of so many ladies of the prime nobility, all effected in one continued havoc. Till then Carus Metius, the accuser, was only considerable for having been victorious in one bloody process; till then the cruel motions of Messallinus rang only within the palace at Alba; {Footnote: A country palace of Domitian.} and in those days Massa Bebius (afterwards so exercised in arraigning the innocent) was himself arraigned as a criminal. Presently after we, with our own hands, dragged Helvidius to prison and execution: we beheld the melancholy doom of Mauricus and Rusticus: we found ourselves besprinkled with the innocent blood of Senecio. Even Nero withheld his eyes from scenes of cruelty, he indeed ordered murders to be perpetrated, but saw not the perpetration. The principal part of our miseries under Domitian, was to be obliged to see him and be seen by him, at a time when all our sighs and sorrows were watched and marked down for condemnation; when that cruel countenance of his, always covered with a settled red, whence he hardened himself against all shame and blushing, served him to mark and recount all the pale horrors at once possessing so many men. Thou therefore, Agricola, art happy, not only as thy life was glorious, but as thy death was seasonable. According to the account of such who heard thy last words, thou didst accept thy fate cheerfully and with firmness, as if thou thus didst thy part to show the Emperor to be guiltless. But to myself and thy daughter, besides the anguish of having our father snatched from us, it proves a fresh accession of sorrow, that we had not an opportunity to attend thee in thy sickness, to solace thy sinking spirits, to please ourselves with seeing thee, please ourselves with embracing thee. Doubtless, we should have greedily received thy instructions and sayings, and engraved them for ever upon our hearts. This is our woe, this a wound to our spirit, that by the lot of long absence from thee thou wast already lost to us for four years before thy death. There is no question, excellent father, but that with whatever thy condition required thou wast honourably supplied, as thou wast attended by thy wife, one so full of tenderness for her husband: yet fewer tears accompanied thy course, and during thy last moments somewhat was wanting to satisfy thine eyes.
If for theManesof the just any place be found; if, as philosophers hold, great spirits perish not with the body, pleasing be thy repose. Moreover, recall us thy family from this our weakness in regretting thee, and from these our effeminate wailings, to the contemplation of thy virtues, for which it were unjust to lament or to mourn. Let us rather adorn thy memory with deathless praises and (as far as our infirmities will allow) by pursuing and adopting thy excellencies. This is true honour, this the natural duty incumbent upon every near relation. This is also what I would recommend to thy daughter and thy wife, so to reverence the memory of a father, and a husband, as to be ever ruminating upon all his doings, upon all his sayings, and rather to adore his immortal name, rather the image of his mind than that of his person. Not that I mean to condemn the use of statues, such as are framed of marble or brass. But as the persons of men are frail and perishing, so are likewise the portraitures of men. The form of the soul is eternal, such as you cannot represent and preserve by the craft of hands or by materials foreign to its nature, nor otherwise than by a similitude and conformity of manners. Whatever we loved in Agricola, whatever we admired, remains, and will for ever remain implanted in the hearts of men, through an eternity of ages, and conveyed down in the voice of fame, in the record of things. For, many of the great ancients, by being buried in oblivion, have thence reaped the fate of men altogether mean and inglorious: but Agricola shall ever survive in his history here composed and transmitted to posterity.