When In America, Do As The Romans Did

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Apr 10

The Roman Republican Influence

The founding of the United States is one of the greatest events in world history. There is no way around it. The Revolutionary War was won against all odds. The Declaration of Independence is the most elegant explanation ever written of the basis of government, Catherine Drinker Bowen called the composition and approval of the Constitution the Miracle at Philadelphia.

It is important, then, to understand how the men—and women—behind such astounding success were inspired. While we might pursue several avenues, perhaps the most conspicuous were the example and ideals of the Roman Republic which spanned half a millennium, traditionally dated from 509 BC to 27 BC. The Founders had access to the Plutarch’s Lives which by the founding was available in English translation so that it was widely read. Among 47 Greeks and Romans covered by Plutarch, the most popular of the Romans with the Founders was Cicero, who was both a philosopher and a statesman who died in the cause of Republicanism.

Consider also the architecture of Washington D.C.: while there are a number of styles represented today, the original and dominant motif is Greco-Roman neoclassical, with its design, sculptures and interior painting. The U.S. Senate is named for, and in some measure patterned after, the Roman Senate. During the many debates during the Founding Period, and especially over the ratification of the Constitution, since it was customary to write anonymously, if a writer wanted to add weight to his argument, he would choose as a pseudonym a notable Roman.

The best example, of course, is “Publius,” the pseudonym shared by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay in the Federalist Papers; but, Roman republican names served Federalists and Anti-Federalists alike: “Cato” was adopted by an unidentified Anti-Federalist (likely Governor George Clinton of New York) who wrote letters in the New York newspapers in 1787 and 1788. The popularity of Roman pseudonyms continued into the early years of the Republic; for example, Alexander Hamilton chose as an alter ego, “Cicero,” in a series of essays condemning the Whiskey Rebellion in 1794.

The most famous appropriation of Roman names was taken from “Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus, a Roman patrician, statesman and military leader early in the Roman Republic. He became an icon of civic virtue. Not everything about Cincinnatus is verified but it seems that he was a farmer called into service at a moment when the Republic was threatened. He was given near-absolute power to quell the danger; most admirable is that when his duty was fulfilled, he returned to the plow, having no interest in enjoying his position, power, and fame.

The legend of Cincinnatus was revived in the late 18th century and applied to George Washington. If his public addresses and private correspondence are to be believed, at the conclusion of the Revolutionary War, he was happy to relinquish his commission as Commander-In-Chief of the Continental Army to return home to his estate; but he dutifully assumed the role of President of the Constitutional Convention. Then, and even more reluctantly, he accepted the nomination as the first United States President not once but twice, after which he finally returned home, only to die of a throat infection two-and-a-half years later.

One of the rare qualities the Founders most admired in a leader, then, was what we might call “disinterestedness.” George Washington was the 18th century paragon since he never sought office and gladly relinquished his celebrity after his second term as president. The quality of disinterestedness, however much admired, was only one in a list of Roman civic virtues and ideals that included love of liberty, honor, self-sacrifice, dignity, generosity, and courage. All of these qualities moreover, were prized in large part because they were considered civic virtues, that is virtues that are necessary, not so much for individual happiness, but for the creation and permanence of a republic. Personal virtues included austerity, self-restraint, discipline, self-sacrifice and self-command.

Cato, A Tragedy

Virtually all these ideals and virtues appear in the wildly popular 18th century play, Cato, A Tragedy, writtenbyEnglish essayist, poet, playwright, and politician, Joseph Addison. The editors of the Liberty Fund edition explain that within a short time it was performed multiple times on both sides of the Atlantic. In addition to the English language version, it was published in translation in, for example, Italy, France, Germany, Holland, and Poland.

The themes of the play captured the imagination of the American Founding generation: the play has to do with liberty, virtue, and resistance to tyranny. It is based on the last days of Roman senator Cato’s life, closing with his execution for opposing the dictatorship of Julius Caesar which marked the end of the Roman Republic and the emergence of the Roman Empire.

In their day, most Americans read Cato or saw the play, or both—multiple times. Benjamin Franklin committed long passages from it to memory. It seems that Patrick Henry adapted his memorable “Give me liberty or give me death” speech directly from lines in Cato. In the play, Cato’s assertion, “What a pity it is that we can die but once to save our country,” may well have inspired Nathan Hale’s final words, “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.”

George Washington saw the play numerous times, and when the Revolutionary War effort seemed most dire in the winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge, the general had the play staged for his troops. For those infantrymen who may have been less inspired by the plays lofty ideals, the play includes two intertwined that run the length of the perforance, featuring two women, the noble Marcia and Lucia. It must have made a private’s heart skip a beat.

Are These Revolutionary Times?

At present, the whole world seems to be unsettled, perhaps for good, perhaps for bad—maybe for both. How long these political and cultural tremors will continue is impossible to predict. Will “normal” times return? Is there even a common understanding of “normal.” Or do these small seismic movements on the political Richter Scale portend more upheaval?

In his important study, Fame and the Founding Fathers, Douglass Adair explains that before the American Revolution, those now revered as Founding Fathers (and Mothers) were ordinary men and women. They only became great because of the events through which they lived.

In a letter dated January 19th, 1780, Abigail Adams penned a lovely—and remarkable letter—to her eldest son John Quincy Adams, eloquently explaining the ideas that Adair was later to write. She advised,

These are times in which a Genious [sic]would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed.”

As an example, she offers the life of Cicero: “Would Cicero have shone so distinguished an orator, if he had not been roused, kindled and enflamed by the Tyranny of Catiline, Milo, Verres and Mark Anthony?

She then notes that greatness is forged in difficulty. She writes, “The Habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. All History will convince you of this, and that wisdom and penetration are the fruits of experience, not the Lessons of retirement and leisure.”

Greatness is forged in hardship. She continues, “Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by scenes that engage the Heart, then those qualities which otherways [sic] lay dormant, wake into Life, and form the Character of the Statesman.” Abigail Adams then instructs her son that he has not only an opportunity to greatness, but an obligation to selfless statesmanship.

If indeed these present days are extraordinary, it is incumbent upon Americans, young and old, women and men, to accept responsibility and assume the mind and character of the American Founding, embracing the virtues of self-restraint, self-denial, courage, resistance to tyranny and a love of liberty.

The future calls for nothing less.