Even when regent he gave orders, while conducting
the public sale of the property of the proscribed,
that a donation from the spoil should be given to the
author of a wretched panegyric which was handed to
him, on condition that the writer should promise never
to sing his praises again. When he justified
before the burgesses the execution of Ofella, he did
so by relating to the people the fable of the countryman
and the lice. He delighted to choose his companions
among actors, and was fond of sitting at wine not
only with Quintus Roscius—the Roman Talma—but
also with far inferior players; indeed he was himself
not a bad singer, and even wrote farces for performance
within his own circle. Yet amidst these jovial
Bacchanalia he lost neither bodily nor mental vigour,
in the rural leisure of his last years he was still
zealously devoted to the chase, and the circumstance
that he brought the writings of Aristotle from conquered
Athens to Rome attests withal his interest in more
serious reading. The specific type of Roman
character rather repelled him. Sulla had nothing
of the blunt hauteur which the grandees of Rome were
fond of displaying in presence of the Greeks, or of
the pomposity of narrow-minded great men; on the contrary
he freely indulged his humour, appeared, to the scandal
doubtless of many of his countrymen, in Greek towns
in the Greek dress, or induced his aristocratic companions
to drive their chariots personally at the games.
He retained still less of those half-patriotic, half-selfish
hopes, which in countries of free constitution allure
every youth of talent into the political arena, and
which he too like all others probably at one time
felt. In such a life as his was, oscillating
between passionate intoxication and more than sober
awaking, illusions are speedily dissipated.
Wishing and striving probably appeared to him folly
in a world which withal was absolutely governed by
chance, and in which, if men were to strive after
anything at all, this chance could be the only aim
of their efforts. He followed the general tendency
of the age in addicting himself at once to unbelief
and to superstition. His whimsical credulity
was not the plebeian superstition of Marius, who got
a priest to prophesy to him for money and determined
his actions accordingly; still less was it the sullen
belief of the fanatic in destiny; it was that faith
in the absurd, which necessarily makes its appearance
in every man who has out and out ceased to believe
in a connected order of things—the superstition
of the fortunate player, who deems himself privileged
by fate to throw on each and every occasion the right
number. In practical questions Sulla understood
very well how to satisfy ironically the demands of
religion. When he emptied the treasuries of the
Greek temples, he declared that the man could never
fail whose chest was replenished by the gods themselves.
When the Delphic priests reported to him that they
were afraid to send the treasures which he asked, because