Petronius

Petronius, surnamed 'ARBITER,' from his supposed identity with the Caius Petronius whom Tacitus calls 'arbiter elegantie' at the court of Nero, is generally believed to be the author of the satirical romance or collection of satires of which the 15th and 16th books have, though in a fragmentary state, come down to us. The work seems to have been a novelty in Latin literature, consisting of prose and verse, and depicting the licentious life in Southern Italy of the upper or moneyed class. Its artistic merit is great, in strength of portrayal and colour anticipating Zola, with a vein of humour as original as it is refined. Bücheler, its latest and best editor (Berlin, 1882), and Cesareo, its able Italian translator and critic (Florence, 1887), both support the long-prevalent view that its author was no other than the Petronius above referred to—a pro-consul of Bithynia and afterwards consul, a past master in all the arts of the voluptuary, the aider and abettor of Nero and the jeunesse dorée of the 1st century in every form of sensual indulgence. The favour he enjoyed at court aroused the jealousy of another confidant of the emperor's, Tigellinus, who had influence enough with their common master to procure his disgrace and banishment. He had proceeded as far as Cumæ, when Nero's casual presence in Campania precipitated his determination to destroy himself. True to the cynical side of his philosophy he set about his suicide in the most leisurely fashion, so as to glide out of existence 'without indecent haste.' He opened his veins at intervals and then rebandaged them, discoursing the while not on immortality or the hollowness of life, but on the gayest of topics, and listening to songs and vers de société when not transacting business or taking a siesta. Shortly before expiring he drew up, signed, sealed, and sent to Nero a summary of the tyrant's amours and excesses, much of which is supposed to have been embodied in his satires. The work, fragmentary as it is, has drawn around it quite a library of criticism and controversy, of which Cesareo gives an excellent résumé, whilst promising a yet fuller treatise on the subject. In style it represents the high-water mark of silver-age Latinity, while as a picture of the 1st century on its seamiest side it shows better than any other how Christianity had become a necessity, if only to save the morality of the world.