disappointed, he resolved to deserve the thanks of posterity by placing
the most exalted merit on the Roman throne. His discerning eye easily
discovered a senator about fifty years of age, blameless in all the
offices of life, and a youth about seventeen, whose riper years opened
the fair prospect of every virtue. The elder of these was declared the
son and successor of Hadrian, on condition, however, that he himself
should immediately adopt the younger. The two Antonines (for it is of
them we are now speaking) governed the Roman world forty-two years with
the same invariable spirit of wisdom and virtue.
Although Pius had two sons, he preferred the welfare of Rome to the
interests of his family; gave his daughter Faustina in marriage to young
Marcus, obtained from the senate the tribunitial and consular powers and
pro-consular powers, and with a noble disdain, or rather ignorance of
jealousy, associated him to all the labors of government.
Marcus, on the other hand, revered the character of his benefactor,
loved him as a parent, obeyed him as his sovereign, and, after he was no
more, regulated his own administration by the example and maxims of his
predecessor. Their united reigns are possibly the only period in history
in which the happiness of a great people was the sole object of
government.
Titus Antoninus Pius has been justly denominated a second Numa. The same
love of religion, justice, and peace was the distinguishing
characteristic of both princes. But the situation of the latter opened a
much larger field for the exercise of these virtues. Numa could only
prevent a few neighboring villages from plundering each other’s
harvests. Antoninus diffused order and tranquillity over the greater
part of the earth. His reign is marked by the rare advantage of
furnishing very few materials for history; which is, indeed, little more
than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.
In private life he was an amiable as well as a good man. The native
simplicity of his virtue was a stranger to vanity or affectation. He
enjoyed with moderation the conveniences of his fortune and the innocent
pleasures of society; and the benevolence of his soul displayed itself
in a cheerful serenity of temper.
The virtue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was of a severer and more
laborious kind. It was the well-earned harvest of many a learned
conference, of many a patient lecture, and many a midnight lucubration.
At the age of twelve years he embraced the rigid doctrines of the
Stoics, which taught him to submit his body to his mind, his passions to
his reason; to consider virtue as the only good, vice as the only evil,
all things external as things indifferent. His “Meditations,” composed
in the tumult of a camp, are still extant; and he even condescended to
give lessons on philosophy in a more public manner than was perhaps
consistent with the modesty of a sage or the dignity of an emperor. But
his life was the noblest commentary on the philosophy of Zeno.
He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfections of others, just
and beneficent to all mankind. He regretted that the death of Ovidius
Cassius, who excited a rebellion in Syria, had disappointed him, by a
voluntary death, of the pleasure of converting an enemy into a friend;
and he justified the sincerity of that statement by moderating the zeal
of the senate against the adherents of the traitor.
War he detested as the disgrace and calamity of human nature; but when
the necessity of a just defense called on him to take up arms, he
readily exposed his person to eight winter campaigns on the frozen banks
of the Danube, the severity of which was at last fatal to the weakness
of his constitution. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and
above a century after his death, many persons preserved the image of
Marcus Antoninus among those of their household gods.
If a man were called on to fix the period in the history of the world
during which the condition of the human race was most happy and
prosperous he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from
the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus. The vast extent of
the Roman Empire was governed by absolute power under the guidance of
virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gentle
hand of five successive emperors, whose characters and authority
commanded universal respect.
The forms of the civil administration were carefully preserved by Nerva,
Trajan, Hadrian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of
liberty, and were pleased with considering themselves as the accountable
ministers of the laws. Such princes deserved the honor of restoring the
republic had the Romans of their days been capable of enjoying a
rational freedom. The labors of these monarchs were overpaid by the
immense reward that inseparably waited on their success, by the honest
pride of virtue, and by the exquisite delight of beholding the general
happiness of which they were the authors.
ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA.
BY EDWARD GIBBON.
[Septimia Zenobia, of mixed Greek and Arab descent, dates of birth
and death doubtful. Twice married, she reached through her second
husband, Odenathus, Prince of Palmyra, a field for the exercise of
her great talents. She aspired to be Empress of Western Asia after
her husband’s death, and only succumbed to the superior genius or
fortune of Aurelian, the Roman Emperor. The unsuccessful issue of
two pitched battles and two sieges placed her in the power of Rome
(273 A.D.). The clemency of the victor, though it made the captive
an ornament of his triumph, loaded her with wealth and kindness,
while it relegated her to a private station.]
Modern Europe has produced several illustrious women who have sustained
with glory the weight of empire; nor is our own age destitute of such
distinguished characters. But if we except the doubtful achievements of
Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female whose superior genius
broke through the servile indolence imposed on her sex by the habits and
climate of Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of
Egypt, equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that
princess in chastity and valor.
Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her
sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these
trifles become important); her teeth were of a pearly whiteness; and her
large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire tempered by the most
attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly
understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not
ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possessed in equal perfection the
Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for her
own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared the
beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime Longinus.
This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who from a private
station raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon became the
friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war Odenathus
passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting. He pursued with ardor
the wild beasts of the desert--lions, panthers, and bears--and the ardor
of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not inferior to his own. She
had inured her constitution to fatigue, disdained the use of a covered
carriage, generally appeared on horseback in a military habit, and
sometimes marched several miles on foot at the head of the troops.
The success of Odenathus was in great measure ascribed to her
incomparable prudence and fortitude. Their splendid victories over the
Great King, whom they twice pursued as far as the gates of Ctesiphon,
laid the foundation of their united fame and power. The armies which
they commanded and the provinces which they had saved acknowledged not
any other sovereigns than their invincible chiefs. The senate and people
of Rome revered a stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and
even the insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his
legitimate colleague.
After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of Asia the
Palmyrenian prince returned to the city of Emesa in Syria. Invincible in
war, he was there cut off by domestic treason, and his favorite
amusement of hunting was the cause, or at least the occasion, of his
death. His nephew Mæonius presumed to dart his javelin before that of
his uncle; and, though admonished of his error, repeated his insolence.
As a monarch and as a sportsman Odenathus was provoked, took away his
horse--a mark of ignominy among barbarians--and chastised his rash youth
by a short confinement. The offense was soon forgot, but the punishment
was remembered; and Mæonius, with a few daring associates, assassinated
his uncle in the midst of a great entertainment. Herod, the son of
Odenathus, though not of Zenobia, a young man of soft and effeminate
temper, was killed with his father. But Mæonius obtained only the
pleasures of revenge by this bloody deed. He had scarcely time to assume
the title of Augustus before he was sacrificed by Zenobia to the memory
of her husband. With the assistance of his most faithful friends she
immediately filled the vacant throne and governed with manly counsels
Palmyra, Syria, and the East above five years. By the death of
Odenathus, that authority was at an end which the senate had granted
him only as a personal distinction; but his widow, disdaining both the
senate and Gallienus, obliged one of the Roman generals who was sent
against her to retreat into Europe with the loss of his army and his
reputation.
Instead of the little passions which so frequently perplex a female
reign, the administration of Zenobia was guided by the most judicious
maxims of policy. If it was expedient to pardon, she could calm her
resentment; if it were necessary to punish, she could impose silence on
the voice of pity. Her strict economy was accused of avarice; yet on
every proper occasion she appeared magnificent and liberal. The
neighboring states of Arabia, Armenia, and Persia dreaded her enmity and
solicited her alliance. To the dominions of Odenathus, which extended
from the Euphrates to the frontiers of Bithynia, his widow added the
inheritance of her ancestors, the populous and fertile kingdom of Egypt.
The Emperor Claudius acknowledged her merit, and was content that while
_he_ pursued the Gothic war, _she_ should pursue the dignity of the
empire in the East. The conduct, however, of Zenobia was attended with
some ambiguity; nor is it unlikely that she had conceived the design of
erecting an independent and hostile monarchy. She blended with the
popular manners of Roman princes the stately pomp of the courts of Asia,
and exacted from her subjects the same adoration that was paid to the
successors of Cyrus. She bestowed on her three sons a Latin education,
and often showed them to the troops adorned with the imperial purple.
For herself she reserved the diadem with the splendid but doubtful title
of Queen of the East.
When Aurelian passed over into Asia, against an adversary whose sex
alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored
obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arts and
the arms of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he accepted
the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana after an obstinate
siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. Zenobia would have ill
deserved her reputation had she indolently permitted the Emperor of the
West to approach within a hundred miles of her capital. The fate of the
East was decided in two great battles, so similar in almost every
circumstance that we can scarcely distinguish them from each other,
except by observing that the first was fought near Antioch and the
second near Emesa. After the defeat of Emesa Zenobia found it impossible
to collect a third army. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of
Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every
preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared with the intrepidity
of a heroine that the last moment of her reign and of her life should be
the same. The siege of Palmyra was an object far more difficult and
important; and the emperor, who with incessant vigor pressed the attacks
in person, was himself wounded with a dart. “The Roman people,” says
Aurelian in an original letter, “speak with contempt of the war which I
am waging against a woman. They are ignorant both of the character and
power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations
of stones, of arrows, and of every species of missile weapons. Every
part of the walls is provided with two or three _balistæ_, and
artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of
punishment has armed her with a desperate courage. Yet still I trust in
the protecting deities of Rome, who have hitherto been favorable to all
my undertakings.” The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that
in a very short time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the
desert. But from every part of Syria a regular succession of convoys
safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the return of Probus
with his victorious troops from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that
Zenobia resolved to fly. She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries,
and had already reached the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles
from Palmyra, when she was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian’s
light-horse, seized, and brought back a captive to the feet of the
emperor. Her capital soon afterward surrendered, and was treated with
unexpected lenity.
When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he
sternly asked her how she had presumed to rise in arms against the
Emperor of Rome? The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect
and firmness: “Because I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an
Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and
sovereign.”
However, in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals, Aurelian might
indulge his pride, he behaved toward them with a generous clemency which
was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. The emperor presented
Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles
from the capital. The Syrian queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron,
her daughters married into noble families, and her race was not yet
extinct in the fifth century.
CONSTANTINE, THE FIRST CHRISTIAN EMPEROR.
BY EDWARD GIBBON.
[Caius Flavius Valerius Aurelius Claudius, surnamed “the Great,”
born 272 A.D., died 337. He was the son of Constantine Chlorus, who
was appointed _Cæsar_, or lieutenant-emperor of the western part of
the empire which was divided between the two _Augusti_, or
emperors, Diocletian and Maximian. Constantine assumed the purple
of empire by acclamation of his legions while commanding in Britain
in 306. While leading his army to Rome to take possession of the
capital, the legend relates that Constantine saw a blazing cross in
the sky inscribed with [Greek: hen tohutph nhika], “In this
conquer.” Thenceforward the Christian symbol was inscribed on the
standards and shields of the army, and Christianity became
recognized as the state Church, though Constantine did not profess
the religion till his deathbed. In the year 323 he took the field
against his brother-in-law Licinius, Emperor of the East, and by
the defeat and execution of the latter he became sole ruler of the
reunited empire. Among the most important events of his reign were
the founding of the new capital of Constantinople (330) on the site
of Byzantium, and the first great general Christian council (325),
held at Nice, in Asia Minor. By the decision of the latter the
Athanasian Creed, embodying the doctrine of the Trinity, was made
the orthodox belief of the Church, and Arianism was condemned as
heresy. The character of Constantine was stained by suspicion and
cruelty, to which his father-in-law, his brother-in-law, his son,
and his wife successively fell victims.]
The character of the prince who removed the seat of empire and
introduced such important changes into the civil and religious
constitution of his country has fixed the attention and divided the
opinions of mankind. By the grateful zeal of the Christians, the
deliverer of the Church has been decorated with every attribute of a
hero, and even of a saint; while the discontent of the vanquished party
has compared Constantine to the most abhorred of those tyrants who, by
their vice and weakness, dishonored the imperial purple. The same
passions have in some degree been perpetuated to succeeding generations,
and the character of Constantine is considered, even in the present age,
as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By the impartial union of
those defects which are confessed by his warmest admirers and of those
virtues which are acknowledged by his most implacable enemies we might
hope to delineate a just portrait of that extraordinary man which the
truth and candor of history should adopt without a blush. But it would
soon appear that the vain attempt to blend such discordant colors and to
reconcile such inconsistent qualities must produce a figure monstrous
rather than human, unless it is viewed in its proper and distinct
lights, by a careful separation of the different periods of the reign of
Constantine.
The person as well as the mind of Constantine had been enriched by
Nature with her choicest endowments. His stature was lofty, his
countenance majestic, his deportment graceful; his strength and
activity were displayed in every manly exercise, and from his earliest
youth to a very advanced season of life he preserved the vigor of his
constitution by a strict adherence to the domestic virtues of chastity
and temperance. He delighted in the social intercourse of familiar
conversation; and though he might sometimes indulge his disposition to
raillery with less reserve than was required by the severe dignity of
his station, the courtesy and liberality of his manners gained the
hearts of all who approached him. The sincerity of his friendship has
been suspected; yet he showed on some occasions that he was not
incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The disadvantage of an
illiterate education had not prevented him from forming a just estimate
of the value of learning, and the arts and sciences derived some
encouragement from the munificent protection of Constantine. In the
dispatch of business, his diligence was indefatigable; and the active
powers of his mind were almost continually exercised in reading,
writing, or meditating, in giving audience to ambassadors, and in
examining the complaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the
propriety of his measures were compelled to acknowledge that he
possessed magnanimity to conceive and patience to execute the most
arduous designs without being checked either by the prejudices of
education or by the clamors of the multitude. In the field he infused
his own intrepid spirit into the troops, whom he conducted with the
talents of a consummate general; and to his abilities, rather than to
his fortune, we may ascribe the signal victories which he obtained over
the foreign and domestic foes of the republic. He loved glory as the
reward, perhaps as the motive of his labors.
The boundless ambition which, from the moment of his accepting the
purple at York, appears as the ruling passion of his soul, may be
justified by the dangers of his own situation, by the character of his
rivals, by the consciousness of superior merit, and by the prospect that
his success would enable him to restore peace and order to the
distracted empire. In his civil wars against Maxentius and Licinius, he
had engaged on his side the inclinations of the people, who compared the
undissembled vices of those tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and
justice which seemed to direct the general tenor of the administration
of Constantine.
Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tiber, or even in the plains
of Adrianople, such is the character which, with a few exceptions, he
might have transmitted to posterity. But the conclusion of his reign
(according to the moderate and indeed tender sentence of a writer of the
same age) degraded him from the rank which he had acquired among the
most deserving of the Roman princes. In the life of Augustus, we behold
the tyrant of the republic converted almost by imperceptible degrees
into the father of his country and of human kind. In that of
Constantine, we may contemplate a hero who had so long inspired his
subjects with love and his enemies with terror degenerating into a cruel
and dissolute monarch, corrupted by his fortune or raised by conquest
above the necessity of dissimulation. The general peace which he
maintained during the last fourteen years (A.D. 323-337) of his reign
was a period of apparent splendor rather than of real prosperity; and
the old age of Constantine was disgraced by the opposite yet
reconcilable vices of rapaciousness and prodigality. The accumulated
treasures found in the palaces of Maxentius and Licinius were lavishly
consumed; the various innovations introduced by the conqueror were
attended with an increasing expense; the cost of his buildings, his
court, and his festivals, required an immediate and plentiful supply;
and the oppression of the people was the only fund which could support
the magnificence of the sovereign.
His unworthy favorites, enriched by the boundless liberality of their
master, usurped with impunity the privilege of rapine and corruption. A
secret but universal decay was felt in every part of the public
administration, and the emperor himself, though he still retained the
obedience, gradually lost the esteem of his subjects. The dress and
manners which, toward the decline of life, he chose to affect, served
only to degrade him in the eyes of mankind. The Asiatic pomp, which had
been adopted by the pride of Diocletian, assumed an air of softness and
effeminacy in the person of Constantine. He is represented with false
hair of various colors laboriously arranged by the skillful artists of
the times, a diadem of a new and more expensive fashion, a profusion of
gems and pearls, of collars and bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe
of silk, most curiously embroidered with flowers of gold. In such
apparel, scarcely to be excused by the youth and folly of Elagabalus, we
are at a loss to discover the wisdom of an aged monarch and the
simplicity of a Roman veteran. A mind thus relaxed by prosperity and
indulgence was incapable of rising to that magnanimity which disdains
suspicion and dares to forgive. The deaths of Maximian and Licinius may,
perhaps, be justified by the maxims of policy, as they are taught in the
schools of tyrants; but an impartial narrative of the executions, or
rather murders, which sullied the declining age of Constantine will
suggest to our most candid thoughts the idea of a prince who could
sacrifice without reluctance the laws of justice and the feelings of
nature to the dictates either of his passions or of his interest.
The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard of
Constantine seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his domestic
life. Those among his predecessors who had enjoyed the longest and most
prosperous reigns--Augustus, Trajan, and Diocletian--had been
disappointed of posterity; and the frequent revolutions had never
allowed sufficient time for any imperial family to grow up and multiply
under the shade of the purple. But the royalty of the Flavian line,
which had been first ennobled by the Gothic Claudius, descended through
several generations; and Constantine himself derived from his royal
father the hereditary honors which he transmitted to his children.
Besides the females and the allies of the Flavian house, ten or twelve
males, to whom the language of modern courts would apply the title of
princes of the blood, seemed, according to the order of their birth, to
be destined either to inherit or to support the throne of Constantine.
But in less than thirty years this numerous and increasing family was
reduced to the persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had survived
a series of crimes and calamities such as the tragic poets have deplored
in the devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus.
JULIAN THE APOSTATE.
BY EDWARD GIBBON.