We are the more inclined to lament the utter destruction of ancient African literature on finding that the most refined Roman dramas were placed upon the stage by a Carthaginian, when Plautus, whose enterprize and perseverance had given the great impetus to Latin comedy, was approaching the end of his long life.  Terence was born the last, and as some think the greatest master in this branch of Art.  He was at one time a slave, but his literary talent was so remarkable that his master set him free, and he became the friend of distinguished men, especially of Scipio the younger.  It must seem strange that this brilliancy should have flashed up for a moment, and then been for ever quenched, but it was derived from Greece and not in its nature enduring.  The genius of Menander fed the flame of Terence, as that of Diphilus and others gave power to Plautus, and it may well be supposed that men of their talent appropriated all that was most excellent, and left their successors to draw from inferior sources.  It may, moreover, be doubted, whether the regular drama was ever popular among the lower classes in Rome, who preferred the more exciting scenes of the circus.  Such plays as were intended for them were coarser and more sensational.

Terence has not the rough power and drollery of Plautus; his whole attraction lies in the subtlety of his amorous intrigues.  Steele, speaking of one of the plays, “The Self-Tormentor,” observes, “It is from the beginning to the end a perfect picture of human life, but I did not observe in the whole one passage that could possibly raise a laugh.”  It was for this reason, no doubt, that Caesar spoke of him as only “half a Menander,” and as deficient in comic force.  Ingenious complexity is so exclusively his aim, that we have neither the coarseness nor the sparkle of earlier writers.  He was the first to introduce Comedies, which were not comic, and whatever humour he introduces is that of situation.

We now come to consider a kind of humour of which the Romans claim to have been the originators, and which they certainly developed into a branch of literature.  Satire first signified a basket of first fruits offered to Ceres; then a hotchpot or olla podrida, then a medley; and so the name was given to poems written without any definite design.  We might therefore conclude that they possessed no uniform character, but merely contained a mixture of miscellaneous matter.  But we find in them no allusions to politics or war, and but few to the literature and philosophy of the day—­their variety being due to their social complexion.  One feeling and character pervades them all—­they were called forth by a scornful indignation at the degeneracy of the age as represented by the rich and powerful, or even by certain leading individuals.  The appearance of such a kind of literature denoted greater activity in society, an increase of profligacy among some, and of moral sensibility among others.  Satire was a social scourge.  It was not a philosophical