Even the religious toleration which Theodoric had the glory of

introducing into the Christian world, was painful and offensive to the

orthodox zeal of the Italians. They respected the armed heresy of the

Goths; but their pious rage was safely pointed against the rich and

defenceless Jews, who had formed their establishments at Naples, Rome,

Ravenna, Milan, and Genoa, for the benefit of trade, and under the

sanction of the laws. Their persons were insulted, their effects were

pillaged, and their synagogues were burned by the mad populace of

Ravenna and Rome, inflamed, as it should seem, by the most frivolous or

extravagant pretences. The government which could neglect, would have

deserved such an outrage. A legal inquiry was instantly directed; and as

the authors of the tumult had escaped in the crowd, the whole community

was condemned to repair the damage; and the obstinate bigots, who

refused their contributions, were whipped through the streets by the

hand of the executioner. This simple act of justice exasperated the

discontent of the Catholics, who applauded the merit and patience of

these holy confessors. Three hundred pulpits deplored the persecution of

the church; and if the chapel of St. Stephen at Verona was demolished

by the command of Theodoric, it is probable that some miracle hostile to

his name and dignity had been performed on that sacred theatre. At

the close of a glorious life, the king of Italy discovered that he had

excited the hatred of a people whose happiness he had so assiduously

labored to promote; and his mind was soured by indignation, jealousy,

and the bitterness of unrequited love. The Gothic conqueror condescended

to disarm the unwarlike natives of Italy, interdicting all weapons

of offence, and excepting only a small knife for domestic use. The

deliverer of Rome was accused of conspiring with the vilest informers

against the lives of senators whom he suspected of a secret and

treasonable correspondence with the Byzantine court. After the death of

Anastasius, the diadem had been placed on the head of a feeble old man;

but the powers of government were assumed by his nephew Justinian, who

already meditated the extirpation of heresy, and the conquest of Italy

and Africa. A rigorous law, which was published at Constantinople, to

reduce the Arians by the dread of punishment within the pale of the

church, awakened the just resentment of Theodoric, who claimed for his

distressed brethren of the East the same indulgence which he had so long

granted to the Catholics of his dominions. At his stern command, the

Roman pontiff, with four _illustrious_ senators, embarked on an embassy,

of which he must have alike dreaded the failure or the success.

The singular veneration shown to the first pope who had visited

Constantinople was punished as a crime by his jealous monarch; the

artful or peremptory refusal of the Byzantine court might excuse an

equal, and would provoke a larger, measure of retaliation; and a mandate

was prepared in Italy, to prohibit, after a stated day, the exercise of

the Catholic worship. By the bigotry of his subjects and enemies, the

most tolerant of princes was driven to the brink of persecution; and the

life of Theodoric was too long, since he lived to condemn the virtue of

Boethius and Symmachus.

The senator Boethius is the last of the Romans whom Cato or Tully

could have acknowledged for their countryman. As a wealthy orphan,

he inherited the patrimony and honors of the Anician family, a name

ambitiously assumed by the kings and emperors of the age; and the

appellation of Manlius asserted his genuine or fabulous descent from

a race of consuls and dictators, who had repulsed the Gauls from the

Capitol, and sacrificed their sons to the discipline of the republic. In

the youth of Boethius the studies of Rome were not totally abandoned;

a Virgil is now extant, corrected by the hand of a consul; and the

professors of grammar, rhetoric, and jurisprudence, were maintained in

their privileges and pensions by the liberality of the Goths. But the

erudition of the Latin language was insufficient to satiate his ardent

curiosity: and Boethius is said to have employed eighteen laborious

years in the schools of Athens, which were supported by the zeal, the

learning, and the diligence of Proclus and his disciples. The reason and

piety of their Roman pupil were fortunately saved from the contagion

of mystery and magic, which polluted the groves of the academy; but

he imbibed the spirit, and imitated the method, of his dead and living

masters, who attempted to reconcile the strong and subtile sense of

Aristotle with the devout contemplation and sublime fancy of Plato.

After his return to Rome, and his marriage with the daughter of his

friend, the patrician Symmachus, Boethius still continued, in a palace

of ivory and marble, to prosecute the same studies. The church was

edified by his profound defence of the orthodox creed against the Arian,

the Eutychian, and the Nestorian heresies; and the Catholic unity was

explained or exposed in a formal treatise by the _indifference_ of three

distinct though consubstantial persons. For the benefit of his Latin

readers, his genius submitted to teach the first elements of the arts

and sciences of Greece. The geometry of Euclid, the music of Pythagoras,

the arithmetic of Nicomachus, the mechanics of Archimedes, the astronomy

of Ptolemy, the theology of Plato, and the logic of Aristotle, with

the commentary of Porphyry, were translated and illustrated by the

indefatigable pen of the Roman senator. And he alone was esteemed

capable of describing the wonders of art, a sun-dial, a water-clock,

or a sphere which represented the motions of the planets. From these

abstruse speculations, Boethius stooped, or, to speak more truly, he

rose to the social duties of public and private life: the indigent were

relieved by his liberality; and his eloquence, which flattery might

compare to the voice of Demosthenes or Cicero, was uniformly exerted in

the cause of innocence and humanity. Such conspicuous merit was felt

and rewarded by a discerning prince: the dignity of Boethius was adorned

with the titles of consul and patrician, and his talents were

usefully employed in the important station of master of the offices.

Notwithstanding the equal claims of the East and West, his two sons were

created, in their tender youth, the consuls of the same year. On the

memorable day of their inauguration, they proceeded in solemn pomp from

their palace to the forum amidst the applause of the senate and people;

and their joyful father, the true consul of Rome, after pronouncing an

oration in the praise of his royal benefactor, distributed a triumphal

largess in the games of the circus. Prosperous in his fame and fortunes,

in his public honors and private alliances, in the cultivation of

science and the consciousness of virtue, Boethius might have been styled

happy, if that precarious epithet could be safely applied before the

last term of the life of man.

A philosopher, liberal of his wealth and parsimonious of his time, might

be insensible to the common allurements of ambition, the thirst of

gold and employment. And some credit may be due to the asseveration of

Boethius, that he had reluctantly obeyed the divine Plato, who enjoins

every virtuous citizen to rescue the state from the usurpation of vice

and ignorance. For the integrity of his public conduct he appeals to

the memory of his country. His authority had restrained the pride

and oppression of the royal officers, and his eloquence had delivered

Paulianus from the dogs of the palace. He had always pitied, and often

relieved, the distress of the provincials, whose fortunes were exhausted

by public and private rapine; and Boethius alone had courage to oppose

the tyranny of the Barbarians, elated by conquest, excited by avarice,

and, as he complains, encouraged by impunity. In these honorable

contests his spirit soared above the consideration of danger, and

perhaps of prudence; and we may learn from the example of Cato, that a

character of pure and inflexible virtue is the most apt to be misled by

prejudice, to be heated by enthusiasm, and to confound private enmities

with public justice. The disciple of Plato might exaggerate the

infirmities of nature, and the imperfections of society; and the mildest

form of a Gothic kingdom, even the weight of allegiance and gratitude,

must be insupportable to the free spirit of a Roman patriot. But the

favor and fidelity of Boethius declined in just proportion with the

public happiness; and an unworthy colleague was imposed to divide and

control the power of the master of the offices. In the last gloomy

season of Theodoric, he indignantly felt that he was a slave; but as his

master had only power over his life, he stood without arms and without

fear against the face of an angry Barbarian, who had been provoked to

believe that the safety of the senate was incompatible with his own. The

senator Albinus was accused and already convicted on the presumption of

_hoping_, as it was said, the liberty of Rome. "If Albinus be criminal,"

exclaimed the orator, "the senate and myself are all guilty of the same

crime. If we are innocent, Albinus is equally entitled to the protection

of the laws." These laws might not have punished the simple and barren

wish of an unattainable blessing; but they would have shown less

indulgence to the rash confession of Boethius, that, had he known of a

conspiracy, the tyrant never should. The advocate of Albinus was soon

involved in the danger and perhaps the guilt of his client; their

signature (which they denied as a forgery) was affixed to the original

address, inviting the emperor to deliver Italy from the Goths; and three

witnesses of honorable rank, perhaps of infamous reputation, attested

the treasonable designs of the Roman patrician. Yet his innocence

must be presumed, since he was deprived by Theodoric of the means of

justification, and rigorously confined in the tower of Pavia, while the

senate, at the distance of five hundred miles, pronounced a sentence of

confiscation and death against the most illustrious of its members. At

the command of the Barbarians, the occult science of a philosopher was

stigmatized with the names of sacrilege and magic. A devout and dutiful

attachment to the senate was condemned as criminal by the trembling

voices of the senators themselves; and their ingratitude deserved the

wish or prediction of Boethius, that, after him, none should be found

guilty of the same offence.

While Boethius, oppressed with fetters, expected each moment the

sentence or the stroke of death, he composed, in the tower of Pavia, the

_Consolation of Philosophy_; a golden volume not unworthy of the

leisure of Plato or Tully, but which claims incomparable merit from the

barbarism of the times and the situation of the author. The celestial

guide, whom he had so long invoked at Rome and Athens, now condescended

to illumine his dungeon, to revive his courage, and to pour into his

wounds her salutary balm. She taught him to compare his long prosperity

and his recent distress, and to conceive new hopes from the inconstancy

of fortune. Reason had informed him of the precarious condition of her

gifts; experience had satisfied him of their real value; he had enjoyed

them without guilt; he might resign them without a sigh, and calmly

disdain the impotent malice of his enemies, who had left him happiness,

since they had left him virtue. From the earth, Boethius ascended

to heaven in search of the Supreme Good; explored the metaphysical

labyrinth of chance and destiny, of prescience and free will, of

time and eternity; and generously attempted to reconcile the perfect

attributes of the Deity with the apparent disorders of his moral and

physical government. Such topics of consolation so obvious, so vague, or

so abstruse, are ineffectual to subdue the feelings of human nature. Yet

the sense of misfortune may be diverted by the labor of thought; and the

sage who could artfully combine in the same work the various riches

of philosophy, poetry, and eloquence, must already have possessed the

intrepid calmness which he affected to seek. Suspense, the worst of

evils, was at length determined by the ministers of death, who executed,

and perhaps exceeded, the inhuman mandate of Theodoric. A strong cord

was fastened round the head of Boethius, and forcibly tightened, till

his eyes almost started from their sockets; and some mercy may be

discovered in the milder torture of beating him with clubs till he

expired. But his genius survived to diffuse a ray of knowledge over the

darkest ages of the Latin world; the writings of the philosopher were

translated by the most glorious of the English kings, and the third

emperor of the name of Otho removed to a more honorable tomb the bones

of a Catholic saint, who, from his Arian persecutors, had acquired the

honors of martyrdom, and the fame of miracles. In the last hours of

Boethius, he derived some comfort from the safety of his two sons, of

his wife, and of his father-in-law, the venerable Symmachus. But the

grief of Symmachus was indiscreet, and perhaps disrespectful: he had

presumed to lament, he might dare to revenge, the death of an injured

friend. He was dragged in chains from Rome to the palace of Ravenna; and

the suspicions of Theodoric could only be appeased by the blood of an

innocent and aged senator.

Humanity will be disposed to encourage any report which testifies the

jurisdiction of conscience and the remorse of kings; and philosophy is

not ignorant that the most horrid spectres are sometimes created by the

powers of a disordered fancy, and the weakness of a distempered body.

After a life of virtue and glory, Theodoric was now descending with

shame and guilt into the grave; his mind was humbled by the contrast of

the past, and justly alarmed by the invisible terrors of futurity. One

evening, as it is related, when the head of a large fish was served

on the royal table, he suddenly exclaimed, that he beheld the angry

countenance of Symmachus, his eyes glaring fury and revenge, and his

mouth armed with long sharp teeth, which threatened to devour him. The

monarch instantly retired to his chamber, and, as he lay, trembling

with aguish cold, under a weight of bed-clothes, he expressed, in broken

murmurs to his physician Elpidius, his deep repentance for the murders

of Boethius and Symmachus. His malady increased, and after a dysentery

which continued three days, he expired in the palace of Ravenna, in

the thirty-third, or, if we compute from the invasion of Italy, in the

thirty-seventh year of his reign. Conscious of his approaching end, he

divided his treasures and provinces between his two grandsons, and fixed

the Rhone as their common boundary. Amalaric was restored to the

throne of Spain. Italy, with all the conquests of the Ostrogoths, was

bequeathed to Athalaric; whose age did not exceed ten years, but who

was cherished as the last male offspring of the line of Amali, by the

short-lived marriage of his mother Amalasuntha with a royal fugitive of

the same blood. In the presence of the dying monarch, the Gothic chiefs

and Italian magistrates mutually engaged their faith and loyalty to

the young prince, and to his guardian mother; and received, in the same

awful moment, his last salutary advice, to maintain the laws, to love

the senate and people of Rome, and to cultivate with decent reverence

the friendship of the emperor. The monument of Theodoric was erected by

his daughter Amalasuntha, in a conspicuous situation, which commanded

the city of Ravenna, the harbor, and the adjacent coast. A chapel of

a circular form, thirty feet in diameter, is crowned by a dome of one

entire piece of granite: from the centre of the dome four columns arose,

which supported, in a vase of porphyry, the remains of the Gothic king,

surrounded by the brazen statues of the twelve apostles. His spirit,

after some previous expiation, might have been permitted to mingle with

the benefactors of mankind, if an Italian hermit had not been witness,

in a vision, to the damnation of Theodoric, whose soul was plunged, by

the ministers of divine vengeance, into the volcano of Lipari, one of

the flaming mouths of the infernal world.

Chapter XL: Reign Of Justinian.--Part I.

Elevation Of Justin The Elder.--Reign Of Justinian.--I. The

Empress Theodora.--II. Factions Of The Circus, And Sedition

Of Constantinople.--III. Trade And Manufacture Of Silk.--IV.

Finances And Taxes.--V. Edifices Of Justinian.--Church Of

St. Sophia.--Fortifications And Frontiers Of The Eastern

Empire.--Abolition Of The Schools Of Athens, And The

Consulship Of Rome.

The emperor Justinian was born near the ruins of Sardica, (the modern

Sophia,) of an obscure race of Barbarians, the inhabitants of a wild

and desolate country, to which the names of Dardania, of Dacia, and of

Bulgaria, have been successively applied. His elevation was prepared by

the adventurous spirit of his uncle Justin, who, with two other peasants

of the same village, deserted, for the profession of arms, the more

useful employment of husbandmen or shepherds. On foot, with a scanty

provision of biscuit in their knapsacks, the three youths followed the

high road of Constantinople, and were soon enrolled, for their strength

and stature, among the guards of the emperor Leo. Under the two

succeeding reigns, the fortunate peasant emerged to wealth and

honors; and his escape from some dangers which threatened his life was

afterwards ascribed to the guardian angel who watches over the fate of

kings. His long and laudable service in the Isaurian and Persian wars

would not have preserved from oblivion the name of Justin; yet they

might warrant the military promotion, which in the course of fifty years

he gradually obtained; the rank of tribune, of count, and of general;

the dignity of senator, and the command of the guards, who obeyed him

as their chief, at the important crisis when the emperor Anastasius

was removed from the world. The powerful kinsmen whom he had raised and

enriched were excluded from the throne; and the eunuch Amantius, who

reigned in the palace, had secretly resolved to fix the diadem on the

head of the most obsequious of his creatures. A liberal donative, to

conciliate the suffrage of the guards, was intrusted for that purpose

in the hands of their commander. But these weighty arguments were

treacherously employed by Justin in his own favor; and as no competitor

presumed to appear, the Dacian peasant was invested with the purple

by the unanimous consent of the soldiers, who knew him to be brave and

gentle, of the clergy and people, who believed him to be orthodox, and

of the provincials, who yielded a blind and implicit submission to

the will of the capital. The elder Justin, as he is distinguished from

another emperor of the same family and name, ascended the Byzantine

throne at the age of sixty-eight years; and, had he been left to his own

guidance, every moment of a nine years' reign must have exposed to his

subjects the impropriety of their choice. His ignorance was similar to

that of Theodoric; and it is remarkable that in an age not destitute

of learning, two contemporary monarchs had never been instructed in the

knowledge of the alphabet. But the genius of Justin was far inferior

to that of the Gothic king: the experience of a soldier had not

qualified him for the government of an empire; and though personally

brave, the consciousness of his own weakness was naturally attended with

doubt, distrust, and political apprehension. But the official business

of the state was diligently and faithfully transacted by the quÊstor

Proclus; and the aged emperor adopted the talents and ambition of his

nephew Justinian, an aspiring youth, whom his uncle had drawn from the

rustic solitude of Dacia, and educated at Constantinople, as the heir of

his private fortune, and at length of the Eastern empire.

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