Vespasian, whose seizure of the imperial purple we noticed a moment

ago, was not a native of the city of Rome, as all the members of the

Julian line had been, nor did he belong to a noble family. These two

facts might almost be taken as an omen of the great change which he and

his successors were to bring about in the position of Rome and Italy

in the Roman world and in the political standing of the senate. The

exceptional position which Rome and Italy had held under the republic

was taken from them in part by robbing them of their privileges and in

part by raising the provinces to a higher political plane. Augustus

had started the new movement by stationing troops in Italy and by

taking the municipal departments in Rome under his control. Within a

century the same fate befell other Italian municipalities which had

befallen Rome, and they had to surrender to the emperor the control

of their finances and their jurisdiction in all important civil and

criminal cases. The privilege which at first Rome and later the Italian

municipalities guarded most jealously was their exclusive right to

Roman and Latin citizenship. Claudius turned from this tradition when

he granted these privileges to certain Gallic cities, and the Flavian

emperors violated it in a still more striking way by their generous

treatment of many cities in Spain. The levelling down of Italy to

the position of the provinces, so far as citizenship was concerned,

was completed when Caracalla in 212 granted Roman citizenship to

practically all freemen in the empire.[10] In this connection may be

mentioned a significant change which was made in the organization of

the army. The legions from the time of Hadrian on were recruited in

all parts of the empire, and officers were no longer drawn solely from

the Western and Latin-speaking portion of the Roman world, but from

the East also. The army therefore ceased to be the great Romanizing

influence which it had been in the past, and what was still worse, a

feeling of local solidarity grew up which was destined in the end to

be fatal to the unity of the empire. It was this feeling which gave

rise to the nationalist movement in the third century, and the Gallic

kingdom of Postumus in the West in that century and the kingdom of

Zenobia in Palmyra in the East were concrete manifestations of this

feeling and at the same time premonitions of the future dissolution of

the empire.

We noticed not only that Vespasian was born outside of Rome, but

also that he was of lowly birth. Perhaps the latter fact accounts in

part for the hostility which the senate showed toward him, and for

the effort which it made in the early part of his reign to assert its

authority. The movement was short-lived. The prince and the senate

were partners of unequal strength in the dyarchy which Augustus had

established, and Vespasian soon made this fact clear to the senate. It

came out still more clearly in the reign of his younger son Domitian,

who had himself made censor for life, and by virtue of this authority

drew up the lists of senators to suit his own pleasure. The tradition

of the city-state had been violated and the prestige of the senate had

been lowered when Julius Caesar admitted provincials to the senate.

This revolutionary precedent was freely followed by emperors during

the second half of the first century. This transformation of the Roman

senate into a body made up of representatives drawn from all parts

of the empire was part of the larger change of the Roman _imperium_

into an international world-state. The senate was still allowed to

elect the emperor, but the election meant nothing more than the

formal ratification of a choice made by the candidate’s predecessor

or by the army, and “Caesar’s candidates” for the magistracies were

always elected by the senate. The senate’s legislative powers had

almost disappeared, because the senate had given up to the emperor

almost entirely its right of initiative. We have already observed the

importance which the “discourses of the prince” had acquired in the

field of legislation. Through the opportunity which they gave him of

declaring his will, and by the issuance of edicts, decrees and other

“constitutions,” as they were called, the emperor took the lawgiving

power almost completely into his own hands. The one real power which

the senate exercised under the empire, long after its legislative and

electoral functions had lost most of their meaning, was its right

to sit as a court, especially in important political cases. In this

capacity it had authority to impose the penalties even of banishment,

deportation, and death, but by the beginning of the third century this

jurisdiction, except where senators were charged with crimes, had

passed to the emperor. By the close of this century the Roman senate

had completed the cycle and come back to the status which it had held

in the primitive city-state, that of a municipal council.

This gradual loss of power by the senate meant a corresponding

increase of course in the influence of the emperor, but his supremacy

was assured also by positive additions to his authority in other

directions. Hadrian in the early part of the second century built up

a bureaucracy[11] so large and so systematically organized that it

enabled him and his successors to reach into the remotest parts of the

empire and control the government of municipalities and the lives of

all the citizens. Probably the world has never known so complete and

crushing a paternalistic system as is revealed to us by the _Codes_ of

Theodosius and Justinian in the fifth and sixth centuries.

The drift toward autocracy was greatly accelerated by the influence

which Egypt and the Orient exercised on the development of the

principate. Perhaps the Oriental practice of identifying the secular

and divine rulers of the world never found complete acceptance in Rome,

but the erection of altars in the provinces to Rome and Augustus,

the attribution of the titles “Master and God” to Domitian by his

procurators, and in the third century the introduction into the court

of Elagabalus of the Persian practice of paying divine honors to the

sovereign, the presence of eunuchs in the palace of Aurelian, and the

wearing of the Eastern diadem by Diocletian, show clearly enough that

the principate was taking on the form of an Oriental despotism. The

conception of the emperor’s authority which these practices suggest

finds expression in the _Code_ of Justinian in the sixth century.[12]

The first words of the rescript in which Justinian authorizes Tribonian

to codify the laws of the empire are: “We, under divine guidance

governing our realm, which has been entrusted to us by the powers

above, etc.” We shall see in the next chapter that under the prevailing

theory of Roman lawyers from the second to the sixth century the

emperor derived his authority from the people, but this utterance of

Justinian and other passages in the _Code_ show us the beginnings

of the doctrine of the divine right of kings which Rome transmitted

from the Orient to the states of modern times. When this point in the

development of the empire had been reached, the preëminence of the city

of Rome had gone, the distinction between Italy and the provinces

had been obliterated, Roman citizenship had lost its significance,

the splendor of the senate and the magistracies had faded, and the

municipalities, which had been the pride and glory of the early

empire, were plunged in poverty and wretchedness. In their place is

an autocrat, kept in power by an army made up largely of barbarians,

who carried out his wishes through a bureaucracy; and this, in turn,

was supported by a body of citizens divided into groups by a system

of castes, and held in most cases to the soil and to their hereditary

occupations by the will of the state.

II. ROMAN POLITICS AND MODERN POLITICS

1. ROME AND THE CHURCH OF ROME

In the brilliant argument which Belloc makes in _Europe and the Faith_

to prove that “the Roman Empire with its institutions and its spirit

was the sole origin of European civilization,” he goes so far as to

maintain that “the divisions and subdivisions of Europe, the parish,

the county, the province, the fixed national traditions with their

boundaries, the routes of communication between them ... all these

derive entirely from the old Roman Empire, our well-spring.” He finds

in the Church of Rome the medium through which this inheritance has

been transmitted. With this Catholic essayist the Protestant historian,

Harnack, is in substantial agreement when he writes: “The Empire has

not perished, but has only undergone a transformation.... The Roman

Church is the old Roman Empire consecrated by the Gospel.”

Before we take up for consideration certain points of resemblance and

of difference between our political institutions and those of ancient

Rome, it is interesting to stop for a moment to ask ourselves in what

respects the tradition and the ideals of the Roman state have been

perpetuated by the Church of Rome. In the first place the Church is the

lineal successor of the Empire in the sense that she saved Europe from

chaos when the political ties which bound its several component parts

to Rome were severed, and she conserved with all her power through the

Middle Ages the Roman elements which escaped being engulfed by the

wave of barbarism. More than that, she kept alive the old tradition of

world-empire, no longer of the flesh, but of the spirit. Like the old

Empire her domain embraced diverse lands and peoples. She resembled

and she resembles the Empire now in the fact that she follows law

and tradition strictly. She requires implicit obedience from the

individual, and the interests of the individual are subordinated to

those of the organization. In all these characteristics she is the

true spiritual daughter of the Roman Empire. We noticed a moment ago

that the realm of the Church, like that of the Emperor, included many

different lands. The territorial parallelism between the two systems

goes beyond this general point of resemblance.

As Sohm has put it in his _Outlines of Church History_, “the city

or _civitas_ was the lowest political unit of the Empire. It became

the lowest political unit of the Church. In the constitution of the

Church the territory of the city appeared as the episcopal diocese.

In the constitution of the Empire the province, with the provincial

governor, stood above the _civitas_. The episcopal dioceses were united

in like manner under the direction of the metropolitan, the bishop

of a provincial capital, forming an ecclesiastical province. In the

constitution of the Empire, from the fourth century, several provinces

composed an imperial diocese under an imperial governor (vicarius). The

imperial diocese also (at least in certain parts of the Eastern Greek

Church) formed, after the fourth century, part of the ecclesiastical

constitution, as the district of a patriarch, to whom the metropolitans

of the imperial dioceses were subordinate. Finally the general union

of the churches corresponded to the general union of the Empire,

with the imperial Council (the so-called Oecumenical Council) as its

legitimate organ.... Thus in its old age the Roman Empire bequeathed

its constitution to the young Church.... It was its last great legacy

to the future.”

And later Sohm goes on to say: “To this day the diocese of the

Catholic bishop is the copy of the Roman _civitas_; the province of

the Catholic archbishop, the copy of the Roman imperial province;

and the Catholic Church under a Pope declared omnipotent by law, the

copy of the ancient Roman Empire, with its Caesars who claimed the

world as their possession.” The Church extended its limits in ancient

times and still extends them by new conquests, just as the Empire

did. The missionary expeditions of Gregory in the sixth century, like

the Jesuit enterprises in North and South America in recent times,

were carried out in the spirit of Caesar or Trajan, and, after the

Christian conquest of England, Gregory spoke as a Roman Emperor might

have spoken, when he said “In one faith He linked the boundaries of

the East and the West.” The absolute power of the Emperor in the later

period is continued in tradition by the infallibility of the Pope, and

the remarks of the city prefect, Themistius, to Theodosius the Great,

“thou art the living law,” might be made with propriety to the Pope

of today. The title “Pontifex Maximus” is common to both rulers, and

there is a striking similarity between other ecclesiastical titles and

those in the official Roman list of the _Notitia Dignitatum_. Latin

is the official language of the Church, as it was of the Empire; the

Pope consults the College of Cardinals, as the Emperor consulted the

Senate; Canon Law, which has been derived in part from Roman Civil

law, is codified as Roman Law was; the Councils seem to follow the

parliamentary procedure of the Roman Senate, and the dress of Church

officials is reminiscent of Roman times. In other words, what is

characteristic of the spirit of the organization and of the externals

of the Church of Rome is a direct inheritance from the Empire.

2. THE INDIVIDUAL AND THE STATE

Let us pass now to consider the relation which our political theories

and institutions bear to those of Rome. A wise government aims to

strike a judicious balance between the rights of the individual and

the safety and welfare of the community. This happy mean can best be

determined by watching the play of the two principles in concrete

cases. Such an opportunity is offered to us by the history of the

ancient city-state which sets before us examples in which the two

ideals of government mentioned above are combined in varying degrees.

These instances range from Athens which favored the freedom of the

citizen to Delphi or Sparta which exalted the importance of the

commonwealth.

We owe also to the Greeks and Romans the discussion of another

fundamental political problem and various attempts to solve it. Is

the ideal state a state ruled by one person, by a few persons, or by

all the citizens? This question was discussed with great acumen and

learning by Greek writers on political theory, and their views with

certain modifications have been transmitted to us by Cicero in his

treatise _On the Commonwealth_. Indeed the merits and defects of all

systems of government have been exemplified in the history of Rome

itself, which ran through the entire gamut of governmental forms.

The two most important Roman writers of the classical period on

political theory were Cicero and Seneca. Unfortunately only a part of

Cicero’s treatise _On the Laws_ has come down to us, and only fragments

of his book _On the Commonwealth_ are extant, but these two works were

known in their entirety to the early Roman jurists and to the Christian

Fathers, and have exerted a great influence on them, and through them,

upon us. Even in their present fragmentary form they show us what an

important contribution Cicero has made to political philosophy. Quite

outside the fact that he served as an intermediary between Greek

political thinking and that of our own times, his two works are of

great value to us, both because of Cicero’s method of approaching the

subject of the state and because of his conception of the organization

of society. Most of Cicero’s predecessors, with the exception of

Panaetius and Polybius, direct their attention to the ideal state, to

an imaginary commonwealth. Cicero in his _Commonwealth, De Re Publica_,

II. 1. 3, tells us that it is his purpose to study the Roman state “in

its birth, its growth, its maturity, and in its present strength and

vigor.” In other words he introduces the modern method of studying the

organization of actual states, and we have set forth, perhaps for the

first time, the fruitful conception of the state as an organism.

In discussing the organization of society, Cicero finds the source

of law and justice, not in utility, but in nature. Right and wrong

are determined _naturae norma_, (_De Legibus_, I. 16. 44). This law

of nature is not one thing in Rome, another in Athens; it is not one

thing today, another tomorrow, but it is eternal and immutable, (_De Re

Publica_, III. 22. 33). This conception of the _ius naturale_ was taken

up by Ulpian in the third century and by other early jurists, developed

in the _Code_ of Justinian, and handed down through the Middle Ages to

our own time. It covers “that body of principles of justice and reason

which men can rationally apprehend, and which forms the ideal norm or

standard of right conduct and of the justice of social institutions.”

From the Civil law it passed into Canon law through the encyclopedic

work of St. Isidore in the seventh century, and gave rise to the

tripartite division which Gratian sets forth in the _Decretals_, when

he writes: “_Ius naturale_ appears with the beginnings of the rational

creation, and remains unchangeable: the _ius consuetudinis_ (i.e.,

the _ius gentium_) had its inception later, when men began to live

together.... But the _ius constitutionis_ (i.e., the _ius civile_)

begins with the principles which the Lord delivered to Moses,” i.e.,

with written law. These distinctions have furnished the starting

point in most modern discussions of the subject. Cicero defined the

Commonwealth as “the affair of the people, but the people is not any

assemblage of men, gathered together in any fashion, but a gathering

united under a common law and in the enjoyment of a common well being,”

(_De Re Publica_, I. 25. 39). From this definition he seems to imply

that the state has a twofold purpose, to protect the individual, and

to promote his welfare. In one passage in his _Commonwealth_, (_De Re

Publica_, III. 13. 23), he makes a speaker in the dialogue enunciate a

theory of the state, out of which Rousseau may well have developed his

doctrine of the Social Contract: “But when one person fears another,

when man fears man, and class, class, then, since no one trusts his

own strength, a compact is made between the people and the rulers,

out of which springs that which Scipio approved--a state whose form is

determined by agreement.” This theory of the Social Compact, probably

derived from Cicero, was put forth again in the eleventh century. So

far as the form of the state goes, it may be monarchical, aristocratic,

or democratic, or these three elements may be combined in it, as Cicero

thought they were in the Roman state; Cicero followed Aristotle and

particularly Polybius, in the latter’s discussion of the constitutions

of Rome and Sparta. The views which Cicero held on this point were

taken up for consideration and emphatically denied by Jean Bodin in his

great work on the state in the sixteenth century.

Cicero regards any government as legitimate which secures justice and

promotes the well being of all its citizens, but he is dissatisfied

with monarchy or aristocracy. As the Carlyles have remarked, in their

_History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West_, which has been

of great service to me at many points in this chapter in tracing the

development of Roman political doctrines through the Middle Ages,

Cicero believed that “every citizen had in him some capacity for

political authority, some capacity which ought to find a means of

expression.” Another fundamental social conception which comes to the

surface in Cicero, and is still more clearly stated in Seneca and

Marcus Aurelius and the Christian writers, is that of the homogeneity

of the human race, the brotherhood of man. To the Greeks, before the

time of Stoicism, there was a great gulf between themselves and the

barbarians. The Romans showed sometimes a similar contempt for other

people, but they recognized the intellectual and artistic superiority

of the Greeks. A century and a half before Cicero’s time Plautus

seriously or humorously refers to his countrymen as barbarians, when

compared with the Greeks. In other words the Romans believed in their

own superiority in some fields of human activity, but recognized their

inferiority to other peoples in other respects. This made them tolerant

of the institutions and practices of races which were brought within

the Empire, and formed the basis of that conception of the brotherhood

of man which did so much to ameliorate the condition of the lowly,

and which is the ideal towards which we somewhat ineffectually strive

today. Allied to this cosmopolitan doctrine of the brotherhood of

man, was the Roman doctrine concerning the composition of individual

societies or states. Aristotle’s theory of the organization of society

presupposes the inequality of the men who compose it. Cicero believed

in natural equality. We are alike, he says, in esteeming the same

virtues, in hating the same vices, in our possession of reason and in

our capacity for acquiring knowledge. Seneca is almost at the point

of extending this conception of natural equality to include even

slaves, for, as he says in his treatise on _The Giving and Receiving

of Favors_: “fortune has granted the slave’s body to his master, he

buys it and sells it, but the soul of a slave can not be bought and

sold.” We shall have occasion to return to this point later, but, while

we are speaking of Seneca, it may be well to mention his explanation

of the origin of the law of nature which was discussed a few moments

ago. The existence of the _ius naturale_ presupposes a state of nature

antecedent to the conventional institutions of society. This golden age

was not one of perfection, but rather of innocence. Avarice brought

it to an end. The institutions of society were made necessary by the

weaknesses of human nature. This view of Seneca harmonized with the

conception which the Christian Fathers later held of the condition

of man before the Fall, before sin came into the world, and has been

transmitted by them to us.

To return now to the doctrine of the natural equality of men and to

the belief that the universal capacity for the exercise of political

authority should find adequate expression, out of these principles

grew the doctrine which Roman lawyers from the second to the sixth

century have noted here and there in the _Codes_, that the power which

a government exercises is derived from the people. This source of

authority the emperors recognized in the _Codes_ up to the time of

Justinian. As the Carlyles have shown, this doctrine was accepted by

the lawyers in the Middle Ages. It applies to judicial authority, as

Bulgarus of Bologna teaches in the twelfth century, and to legislative

power, as Irnerius of the same century holds. Their arguments come

from the Roman period, because they are drawn from the _Corpus Iuris

Civilis_, and they borrow phrases from the _Digest_ and the _Code_.

The question naturally arose in their minds whether the people could

resume their authority or not. Scholars were divided on this point.

Some of them maintained that the popular will still found expression

in custom, and that therefore custom could override law. Most of them

believed that universal custom had this power, but that local custom

did not. Consequently they held that the sovereignty of the people

still found expression in custom. In passing we may note that we have

here the distinction between “unwritten” and “written” law or between

common law and statute law. The theory that the authority in the state

emanated from the people continued to be the prevailing doctrine as

late as the middle of the thirteenth century, as the Carlyles have

shown. It is maintained by Nicholas of Cues in the fifteenth century.

In his _Systematic Politics, Confirmed by Examples from Sacred

and Profane History_, published in 1610, the Calvinist, Johannes

Althusius, carried the doctrine to its logical conclusion that, since

the authority in a state rested on a contract between the people and

their ruler, the people had the right to depose him and resume their

delegated power. Hobbes in his _Leviathan_, which appeared in 1641,

believed in the principle of the contract, but in his opinion the

compact is made by the members of society with one another. The ruler

does not enter into the covenant. Consequently he is not bound by it.

The radical teachings of Althusius lay dormant for a century and a

half, to be taken up by Rousseau in his _Contrat Social_ and to form

the basis of the famous “Declaration of the Rights of Man” of 1789.

Roman politics · 第 2 / 8 段