Polytheism was in fact tolerant so long as an enemy had not declared

himself; it was no sooner conscious of an enemy than it persecuted,

and the persecution was no less a persecution because it was prompted

by mixed motives. There may have been good reason for mistrusting the

influence of the diviners upon persons of weak mind, for suspecting

them of helping to bring about the accomplishment of their predictions

by the use of poisons, and of prompting plots in whose success they had

a personal interest; but it was also inevitable that the emergence of a

new religious attitude should alarm, and that its professors should be

subject to attack. In times of popular excitement the monotheists were

persecuted by the enlightened rationalists no less than by the orthodox

polytheists, and many motives over and above religious intolerance

contributed to sharpen the laws against the Jew and the diviner. Not

the least of these was the dread of poison, a very lively terror

even in modern times, till the accumulations of chemical and medical

knowledge restricted the sphere of operations of mysterious drugs; and

there may well have been some foundation for the superstitious dread of

secret poisoning by which many of the ancients were affected. Not only

was the charlatan ready to magnify his own powers, and to ascribe to

his spells and incantations deaths from purely natural causes, but the

older civilizations of the East had doubtless preserved many secrets of

pharmacy which were skilfully used by adepts to impress the imagination

of the vulgar.

At this very day the medicine men and women, the Papaloi and Mamaloi

of the Black Republic of Hayti, exert a power above the laws by their

knowledge and use of poisons, from which even the educated white man

cannot escape. Before we condemn the Roman Senate for its intolerance

of magicians and its superstitious dread of their powers, we must place

ourselves in their position, limit ourselves to their knowledge; and

again we must be modest enough to remember that we still consider it

necessary to protect the ignorant dupe from the fortune-teller, that

the law is not unfrequently called into action in such cases, and that

the clients of the spiritualist and diviner of to-day are to be found

in all classes, and not exclusively among the poor and ignorant.

While the Senate thus endeavoured to repress alien worships, it

continued to protect the sanctity of its own ritual; vestal virgins

were appointed in due form, though with increasing difficulty, as

the solemn form of marriage necessary for the proper parentage of a

vestal had fallen into disfavour. Considerable interest attached to the

case of a Senator named Servius Maluginensis, who had a claim to the

Proconsulship of Asia, and wished to evade the restrictions which were

imposed on him by the fact that he was Flamen Dialis, sublimest priest

of Jupiter. The ancient ritual forbade the Flamen Dialis to leave

the city for more than a day and a night in succession, and Servius

therefore attempted to prove that the ritual was obsolete, and that

exceptions had been allowed. The Senate discussed the case with due

solemnity, and then referred it to Tiberius, who in his turn remitted

it to the College of Pontiffs. Their decision was against Servius, and

the Province of Asia fell to the Senator next on the roll.

A question of even greater importance, partly religious in its

character, required the decision of the Senate. Numerous Greek towns,

chiefly situated in the islands of the Ægean and along the coasts

of Asia Minor, had abused the rights of Sanctuary attached to some

of their temples. Not only were the rights of property imperilled

by the ready shelter given to runaway slaves, but the concourse of

unruly ruffians assembled in these insular Alsatias threatened to

disturb the public peace. A sanctuary, if conveniently situated,

might easily assume the character of a nest of pirates; the Greek

genius for brigandage has always been as remarkable as the Greek

gift for preaching morality. An attempt to suppress the sanctuaries

led to protests, and deputations from the towns concerned pleaded

their cause before the Senate. The arguments used in defence of the

sanctuaries are interesting, because they show a sense of continuity of

government from the times of Alexander to those of Tiberius. The claims

were partly based on mythological grounds, but more effectively on

recognitions granted by Alexander, and afterwards by Roman Proconsuls.

The maintenance of the sanctuaries was regarded as an honourable

distinction, and this aspect of the claims was pressed rather than the

material advantages.

The abuse, however, was too alarming to be tolerated. One temple

alone, that of Æsculapius at Pergamus, which from other evidence seems

to have assumed the character of a school of medicine, retained its

privileges; the others were dismissed with honourable compliments,

and it was ordered that a copy of the Senatorial decree should be

inscribed on brass, and placed in a conspicuous position in the

temples concerned. Subsequently other sanctuaries were similarly dealt

with. The credit of thus dealing with a serious abuse is ascribed by

Suetonius to Tiberius, and it is possible that, though the actual

decision was made in the Senate, because the towns involved were in

a Senatorial Province, the initiative came from the Emperor himself.

If Tiberius was thus severe in correcting a time-honoured abuse, he

had been no less liberal in remitting taxation and furnishing relief

to numerous cities in the same part of the world, which had suffered

severely from an earthquake. In fact, though he was careful to observe

the constitutional forms, he kept a watchful eye upon the Senatorial

administration, and supplied the necessary stimulation for its

corporate conscience.

Reference has already been made to the practice of supplementing the

resources of impoverished Senators, and to the severity with which

Tiberius treated such cases. The Senate was only too willing to vote

public money to provide pensions for its members. Tiberius recognized

the obligation, but he insisted that the beneficiary should make out

a good case, and be able to demonstrate that his distress was due to

misfortune, not to thriftlessness. The case of Hortalus, grandson

of Cicero’s rival, Hortensius, affords an illustration both of the

severity of Tiberius and of the curiously domestic character of the

Senate.

In the year 16 A.D. Hortalus rose in his place in the Senate, having

posted his four sons at the door, where they could be seen by all;

he then spoke as follows, fixing his eyes alternately on the statue

of Hortensius standing among the orators, and that of Augustus:--“It

was not by my own will, but at the suggestion of the Prince, that I

begot and acknowledged these children, whose number and tender years

you behold; and indeed my ancestors had deserved that I should have

successors. For I, who owing to the revolutionary times could neither

inherit the ancestral property of my house, nor earn money, nor win

the affections of the people, nor train myself in eloquence, should

have had enough if my poverty had neither shamed nor burdened others.

At the command of the Emperor I married a wife. Behold the stock

and progeny of all those consuls and dictators. I do not say this

to disparage anybody else, but to win your compassion. The offices

that you confer, Cæsar, will be at your service while you reign;

meanwhile defend the great-grandchildren of Quintus Hortensius, the

children fostered by the sainted Augustus, from want.” In spite of

the mendacity of this statement--for on the father’s side, at any

rate, the family of Hortensius could only claim the credit of two

consulships and no dictatorships--the appeal was heard with favour

by the Senate, till Tiberius intervened with these words:--“If all

the poverty-stricken begin to come here and demand money for their

children, the applicants will never be satiated, and the public purse

will run dry. And indeed it was certainly never contemplated by our

ancestors when they allowed Senators to leave the matter in hand, and

move amendments for the public benefit, that we should endeavour to

increase our private fortunes in this place in such a manner as to

render the Senate and the Princes unpopular, whether they granted or

refused the largess. This is not a humble request; it is an impudent

demand, unseasonable, and unprecedented, to rise when the Senate are

assembled for the discussion of other matters, and do violence to the

kindness of the Senate by urging the number and age of one’s children,

and to pass on the same violence to me, and as it were break open the

treasury, which we shall have to supplement by injustice, if we exhaust

it in courting popularity. Money was given to you, Hortalus, by the

sainted Augustus, but without previous application, and certainly

not on the terms that once given it should be always given. Industry

will slacken, indolence will gain strength, if men’s hopes and fears

are not to depend on themselves, if all are confidently to look for

resources from outside, useless to themselves and a burden to us.”

Tiberius was clearly in the right, but the authorities whom Tacitus

consulted evidently thought that Hortalus had been hardly used, for

the narrative is continued:--“Although these and similar words were

listened to with favour by those whose custom it is to praise all that

falls from the lips of Princes, honourable and dishonourable alike,

the majority received them in silence or with subdued murmurs. And

Tiberius perceived this, and after a short silence said that he had

given Hortalus his answer. However, if the Senate thought well, he

would give each of his children of the male sex two hundred thousand

sesterces (about £3,000). The rest expressed their thanks. Hortalus

was silent, either from consternation or because he retained something

of his ancestral nobility even in his indigence. Nor did Tiberius show

him any further compassion, although the family of Hortensius fell into

disgraceful poverty.”

The gift made by Tiberius was private and personal; he did not make

use of the public money for a purpose of which he had expressed strong

disapproval. The incident is chiefly interesting as indicating that,

in spite of the rude shocks given to the Senatorial system by Julius

Cæsar, the body had recovered its evil tradition of assuming that it

was at liberty to use the public purse to meet the private necessities

of its members. Hortalus was clearly a well-known spendthrift.

The Senate, in fact, tended to become more and more a high court of

justice, in which its members and high officials were tried by their

peers, the cases being either political or such private cases as

had by long tradition fallen to the Senate as the guardian of the

morality of the privileged orders. It was tenacious of its privileges,

careless of its wider responsibilities. Tiberius treated it with formal

respect, and did his best to make it worthy of its opportunities; if

he could have avoided interfering with its administration of its own

provinces, he would have done so, but he was not prepared to submit

the provincials to misgovernment in order to maintain the prestige

of the Senate, and the misgovernment of Proconsuls was by no means a

thing of the past. Tiberius, like Augustus, supplied himself with an

inner Council of the Senate, and it is possible that on most occasions

this inner Council represented the whole body; but he did not restrict

himself to Senatorial Counsellors, and we are told that, in dealing

with provincial questions, he was always careful to provide himself

with the expert evidence of men who knew the localities concerned.

Though the Senate could not shake itself free from the traditions

of its existence, and always represented the great families of the

City of Rome rather than Italy or the Empire, except in so far as it

provided the personnel of the Supreme Court of Appeal, it was curiously

indifferent to municipal matters. The city was policed by the Prefect

of the city, an official appointed by the Emperor, who held office for

long periods, and it was guarded by troops commanded by the Emperor.

The rank of Senator eventually became little more than an honourable

distinction, though from time to time the body possessed sufficient

coherence to bid for the power which it had lost, and even for short

periods to wield it. The distinction between Senatorial and Imperial

Provinces did not last long, the Imperial administration proving better

suited to the needs of the Empire.

Many writers infected with the spirit of the nineteenth century have

advanced the opinion that the Roman Empire collapsed because the Romans

never hit upon representative government. It is curious that Augustus

very nearly effected this supreme achievement. He at one time proposed

to hold simultaneous elections of the Roman magistrates in all the

cities of Italy; the names of the candidates were to be posted up, the

votes were to be collected in ballot boxes, which were to be sent to

Rome sealed up, and afterwards counted in the city itself. This scheme

happily came to nothing, for the strength of the Roman Empire lay in

its respect for local government. The Provincial Governors were the

supreme umpires in their Provinces, but they did not concern themselves

with the details of local administration; the constitutions of Athens,

and even Sparta, continued to work even after these towns were included

in the Province of Achaia, and similarly throughout the Empire original

institutions were left to do their previous work. As we have seen,

the Governors of Provinces did not even control the organization by

which the Imperial taxes were collected. The local life of the Empire

was strong; Antioch and Alexandria, even the new cities of Gaul,

bowed reluctantly to Rome, and in course of time the position of the

Patriarch of Rome was not to be that of Primate of Christianity till

many a battle had been fought, and in fact the Popes never succeeded to

the full heritage of the Emperors. The Empire was the bond of union and

the peacemaker between an infinite number of self-governing units, it

provided a supreme arbitrator, a Supreme Court of Appeal. The Empire,

in fact, was peace; it was not a system of local as well as universal

administration. The introduction of representative government, the

substitution of an Elective Parliament at Rome for the Senate, would

have killed the vigorous local governments, and would not have improved

the administration of the Empire. Under such rulers as Augustus and

Tiberius, the Flavians and the Antonines, the organization of the Roman

Empire probably reached the limits of perfectibility; it would not

have been improved by collecting deputies from all parts of the world,

and expecting them to be responsible for the executive. Representative

institutions have not prevented official corruption or no less deadly

incompetence, nor has the absence of really free parliaments impeded

the advance of some modern nations; those diseases of the body politic

from which the Roman Empire is held to have suffered in a special

degree, corruption and official formalism, have not been unknown in

communities blessed with Houses of Representatives duly elected and

accredited. A multitude of counsellors neither protects an Empire from

corruption nor ensures wisdom in the conduct of its affairs, while

the conscience of any corporate body is notoriously duller than that

of each individual of which it is composed. The Roman Emperors were

wise in respecting local institutions, and in not imposing a strict

system of centralization, for it is unfortunately impossible to retrace

our steps, and when once the local life has been killed, it cannot

be revived. Decentralization as a matter of mechanical convenience

is possible after the central authority has drawn to itself all

the prestige of political life, but this is purely administrative

decentralization; when once the central government has absorbed the

vitality of local political life, it cannot give back that which it

has taken away. It was good for the Empire that the Senate should not

exclusively attract the ambition of capable men from the Provinces,

and on the other hand that the energies of the Emperors should be

distributed over a wide area. The Emperors had no time for universal

tyranny, and the extravagancies of Caligula, Nero, and Domitian were

scarcely felt outside Rome itself; they certainly did nothing to shake

the foundations of that fabric which had been so wisely laid by the

first two Emperors.

XVII

Sejanus

One of the most trusted public servants of Augustus was a Roman

Equestrian named Seius Strabo; he hailed from an Italian, or rather

a Tuscan, city, his family having been long settled at Vulsinii, and

was thus exposed at Rome to the reproach of being a “new man.” Seius

Strabo was content with administrative work, and did not aspire to high

senatorial rank. Augustus made him commander of the Prætorian cohorts

which formed the garrison of Italy, and afterwards entrusted him with

the most important office in his gift, for he made him Governor of

Egypt, that valuable appanage of the Roman Emperors upon which the corn

supply of the capital depended. Seius married into the Junian gens, the

gens of Brutus the Liberator, and his son could in consequence claim

affinity through his mother with the most honourable Roman houses. This

son was adopted by a member of the Ælian gens, and thus became known

as Ælius Sejanus. He married a daughter of Apicius the Epicure, a very

wealthy man, but notorious rather than distinguished.

The young Sejanus enjoyed the confidence of Augustus as his father

had done. He succeeded him in command of the Prætorians, and was made

adviser to Caius Cæsar when he went to the East. In this capacity he

did his best to counteract the mischievous counsels of Marcus Lollius,

and won the gratitude of Tiberius, which he soon improved into a

personal friendship. As Sejanus was made his father’s colleague in

B.C. 14, soon afterwards succeeding him in the sole command of the

Prætorian guards, he cannot have been much younger than Tiberius, for

he would hardly have been associated with his father before he was

twenty years of age, and in that case Tiberius would have been his

senior by only eight years. Even if we assume that Sejanus became

his father’s colleague at the age of sixteen, an age at which young

Romans commonly first entered on active service, he would still be

only twelve years younger than Tiberius; but it is very improbable

that so young a man would have been entrusted with the command of the

Prætorians. The question is of some importance, for the language of

the historians, perhaps unintentionally, conveys the impression that

Sejanus was a comparatively youthful favourite of the Emperor’s, who

owed his advancement to a blind partiality, whereas his acquaintance

with Tiberius had been almost lifelong, even if we assume that he was

little more than a boy when he first commanded the Prætorian guards. It

is far more probable that there were only three or four years between

the two men, and that the relations between Sejanus and Tiberius were

comparable to those between Augustus and Agrippa.

Paterculus, who admired Sejanus, is curiously apologetic about the

obscurity of his family. He suggests that it was not so obscure as was

generally supposed, and again that obscurity of descent is no bar to

admission to the public service; he quotes very ancient examples, and

the more modern ones of Marius, Cicero, and Asinius Pollio.

In fact the Revolution, which had broken the political power of the

old Roman aristocracy, had been succeeded by a reaction in favour of

great names and exalted lineages, which would have given the Senate a

new lease of power had that body been capable of effective work. The

History of Livy, the Fasti of Ovid, the later books of the Æneid, had

all combined to throw a glamour over the great Roman families, and the

new world of capable officials recruited from Italy and other parts of

the Empire found itself despised at Rome by the futile descendants of

legendary ancestors. We are told that the Emperor Caligula was ashamed

of his grandfather, Marcus Agrippa, and was offended if reminded

of his descent from the ignoble Vipsanian stock. Tiberius himself

was evidently inclined to be a formalist in matters affecting the

aristocracy, and though he drew his trusted servants from all classes

and races, the deference which he paid to the Senate and the old

constitutional magistrates, along with his careful observance of the

old legal ritual, tended to foster aristocratic pretensions.

To the memoir-writing Senators Sejanus was an upstart, and in spite

of the recent precedents of Agrippa and Mæcenas and other capable

colleagues of Augustus, the strict aristocracy could see nothing but

evil in the “new man.” On the other hand, a large party in the Senate,

representatives of the new hierarchy of officials, accepted Sejanus,

as Agrippa had been accepted; they followed the lead of Tiberius, and

after the death of Drusus in A.D. 23 were prepared to treat Sejanus as

the second person in the Empire.

If Senators of ancient descent were disgusted at the position held

by Sejanus, the family of the Emperor were even more so. Drusus, a

hot-tempered man, is said on one occasion to have struck him, an

incident which may well have occurred when Drusus was a little boy or

petulant youth, and been turned to good account by sensation-loving

writers of memoirs. Agrippina could not contain herself in the

presence of this new oppressor of the children of Germanicus, the

great-grandchildren of the sainted Augustus, and so forth. These

poor innocents were, in her excited imagination, the victims of the

ambitions of Sejanus; that they were not from the moment of their birth

of an age to be entrusted with the conduct of affairs did not enter

into her considerations.

Drusus died after an illness of some duration. Dio tells us that his

constitution had been impaired by intemperance and other excesses,

and there is other evidence that he had been a man of pleasure as

well as a man of business. A speech of his is recorded to the effect

that as long as he paid proper attention to his public duties he

was at liberty to enjoy his leisure as he pleased. He did not share

his father’s taste for literary pursuits or scientific research;

but Dio informs us that Tiberius was really attached to his son,

and insinuations to the contrary are probably derived from tainted

sources, from the private diaries of those to whom it was an axiom

that Tiberius hated those whom he was in duty bound to love, and

loved those only whom he ought to have hated. Even Tacitus, however

unintentionally, supplies evidence that Tiberius was much shaken by

his son’s death, for though he tells us that Tiberius did not allow

the illness or death of Drusus to interfere with the discharge of his

public duties--a piece of stoical conduct quite in accordance with the

character of time-honoured Roman models--he also tells us that the

Emperor spoke at the time of resigning his office to the Consuls or

some other. According to Tacitus, the Emperor also addressed a long

speech to the Senate, in which he deplored the extreme old age of

Livia, and his own declining years still unprovided with grandchildren.

This latter statement was not correct, for Drusus had left a son, a

second Tiberius, unless indeed we are to assume that the Emperor did

not think he was at liberty to count a descendant who was still too

young to be introduced to the Senate. We are further told that Tiberius

then begged that the children of Germanicus, “the one consolation of

his present misfortune,” might be brought into the Senate house, that

the Consuls went out, and after encouraging the lads, placed them in

front of the Emperor. He took them by the hand, and said: “Conscript

Fathers, I entrusted these orphans to the care of their uncle, and

begged him, although he had children of his own, to cherish them as he

would cherish his own blood, and own them, and educate them for himself

and posterity. Now that Drusus has been taken from us, I address my

petition to you, and I implore you, in the presence of our gods and

our country, to adopt, to guide the great-grandchildren of Augustus,

descendants of such a splendid stock, and to fulfil your duty and my

own. These worthy counsellors, Nero and Drusus, will be your parents.

You have been born in such a position that your good or bad conduct is

a matter of public concern.”

The funeral of Drusus was conducted with unusual pomp; the whole line

of the Julians back to Æneas appeared in effigy in the procession, all

the Alban kings, Romulus, the Sabine nobility, Attus Clausus, and the

rest of the famous Claudians. The magnificence of the Imperial family

in both branches was thus emphasized.

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