Fame
On various inscriptions, Probus is described as "the summit of the Anician house" (Aniciae domus culmen), "most learned in all subjects" (omnibus rebus eruditissimus) and "the acme of the nobility, the light of literature and eloquence" (nobilitatis culmen, litterarum et eloquentiae lumen). As these phrases suggest he was a patron of literature, including the poet Ausonius. His two sons Probinus and Olybrius continued the tradition by being the patrons of Claudian, who paints a flattering picture of Probus in his Panegyricus dictus Probino et Olybrio consulibus written to celebrate his sons' joint consulship in 395.
Ammianus Marcellinus portrays him as a vain and rapacious man who "owned estates in every part of the empire, but whether they were honestly come by or not is not for a man like me to say". Ammianus says he was one who was benevolent to his friends and a pernicious schemer against his enemies, servile to those more powerful than him and pitiless to those weaker, who craved office and exercised enormous influence through his wealth, always insecure and petty even at the height of his power.
Read more about this topic: Sextus Claudius Petronius Probus
Famous quotes containing the word fame:
“But those rare souls whose spirit gets magically into the hearts of men, leave behind them something more real and warmly personal than bodily presence, an ineffable and eternal thing. It is everlasting life touching us as something more than a vague, recondite concept. The sound of a great name dies like an echo; the splendor of fame fades into nothing; but the grace of a fine spirit pervades the places through which it has passed, like the haunting loveliness of mignonette.”
—James Thurber (1894–1961)
“Certainly fame is like a river, that beareth up things light and swoln, and drowns things weighty and solid.”
—Francis Bacon (1561–1626)
“That land is like an Eagle, whose young gaze
Feeds on the noontide beam, whose golden plume
Floats moveless on the storm, and in the blaze
Of sunrise gleams when Earth is wrapped in gloom;
An epitaph of glory for the tomb
Of murdered Europe may thy fame be made,
Great People! as the sands shalt thou become;
Thy growth is swift as morn, when night must fade;
The multitudinous Earth shall sleep beneath thy shade.”
—Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)