ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD.
Character of the Roman Army.――Conspiracy of Otho.――Death of Galba.
――Vitellius Emperor.――Revolt of the Jews, and Destruction of
Jerusalem.――Reign of Vespasian.――Character of Titus; of Domitian.
――Religion of Pagan Rome.――Nerva.――Anecdotes of St. John.
――Exploits of Trajan.――Letter of Pliny.――Letter of Trajan.
AS we contemplate the awful scenes of depravity and misery witnessed
under the reign of many of the Roman emperors, the sympathies of the
reader are naturally excited in behalf of the oppressed millions. But
it is a melancholy truth, that the people were as bad as the rulers.
The assassin and his victim, the oppressors and the oppressed, the
emperor in his palace, the nobles in their castles, the beggared poor
in their hovels, were alike merciless, morally degraded, and depraved.
Probably earth has never witnessed a more diabolical band than was
congregated in a Roman army.
The Roman senate which had deposed Nero, and consigned him to death,
immediately proclaimed Galba emperor. He was comparatively a worthy
man, seventy-two years of age, and childless. Conscious of the awful
corruption which reigned at Rome, and of his inability to stem the
torrent; oppressed with the infirmities of years, and drawing near
to the grave,――he adopted as his successor a young officer in the
army, Piso Lucianus, a man of noble character and of rare virtue. But
the last thing that the army desired was a virtuous sovereign. The
soldiers, accustomed to plunder and license, desired a ruler who would
gratify all their fierce and luxurious desires. They were exceedingly
dissatisfied with the restraints which Galba imposed upon them. They
wished for a tyrant who would trample down the nations, and who would
allow the army to share in the plunder. Consequently, the soldiers were
ripe for insurrection both against Galba and Piso.
There was a man in the army named Otho. He was one of the vilest of
the vile; and had been so intimately the friend and accomplice of Nero,
that he had ardently hoped for adoption. Tacitus says of him,――
“Otho was a stranger from his earliest days to every fair pursuit,
and in the pride of manhood was distinguished for nothing but riot
and debauchery. His emulation in luxury recommended him to the notice
of Nero.” Most of the soldiers favored his views, and the creatures
of Nero’s court zealously supported him as a congenial character.
Numbers lamented the loss of Nero, and longed for the former laxity
of discipline.
Otho formed a conspiracy in the army against Galba. He ridiculed his
severe discipline, the restraints he imposed upon his troops, and his
neglect to enrich them with plunder, and pamper them with luxuries. He
assured them that Piso would be like Galba; that he would in the same
way restrain their passions, and enforce rigid discipline. With talent
for sarcasm, he scouted the idea of justice and mercy, declaring “that
the affectation of practising such virtues, as they were called, was
ridiculous in such a world as this.”
The conspiracy ripened. At the appointed time, the soldiers, with
clashing of weapons and loud huzzas, raised Otho upon their shoulders,
and declared him to be their emperor. The virtuous Galba was pursued
with malignity even more intense than that which had driven Nero to
suicide. The scene of his death is minutely described by Tacitus.
Tumultuous thousands of the Roman soldiers, with oaths and imprecations,
rushed from their encampment into the city to the palace of the emperor.
A resistless mob of armed demoniac men surged through the streets. The
populace fled before them. Galba had left the palace, and was on his
way to the Forum. The infuriate mob of infantry and cavalry scattered
in all directions. Some burst into the Forum, and trampled the senators
beneath their feet. Galba was seized. As the assassins gathered around
him, he looked up, and calmly said,――
“If you wish for my head, here it is. I am willing at any time to
surrender it for the good of the Roman people.”
Scarcely had he uttered these words ere a sinewy soldier, with one blow
of his heavy broadsword, struck off his head, and it rolled upon the
pavement. Another soldier seized it by the hair, and thrust a pike into
the palpitating flesh; and, with the shoutings of tumultuous thousands,
the gory trophy was paraded through the streets. Such were the scenes
which were witnessed in pagan Rome while the disciples of Jesus were
preaching in obscurity, but with invincible zeal, from house to house,
the gospel of love to God, and love to man.
The senate, overawed by the army, was compelled to ratify this foul
assassination, and to declare Otho emperor. We have now reached the
year of our Lord 67.
There was at this time an ambitious but able general, named Vitellius,
in command of a powerful Roman army upon the Danube. He had secured the
good-will of his fiendlike troops by the plunder which he allowed them,
and the license in which they were permitted to indulge. He refused
to recognize Otho as emperor; and, raising the standard of revolt, by
a vote of the army caused the imperial dignity to be conferred upon
himself. Vitellius, at the head of his army, marched upon Rome to wrest
the sceptre from the hands of his rival. Otho advanced to meet him. The
armies were each seventy thousand strong. They encountered each other
on the plains of Lombardy, near Mantua. The battle was long and bloody.
At length, the legions of Otho were utterly routed and dispersed.
Dismissing most of his attendants, the ruined adventurer fell upon his
own sword, and died. He had previously requested his slaves to bury him
immediately. “This had been his earnest request,” writes Tacitus, “lest
his head should be cut off, and be made a public spectacle.”
Vitellius, who at once compelled the senate to proclaim him emperor,
was not by nature a tyrannical man; but he was luxurious and dissolute
in the extreme, surrendering himself to every possible form of
self-indulgence. He even equalled Nero in his unbridled, shameless
profligacy. It is said that the expenses of his table alone, for a
period of four months, amounted to a sum equal to about thirty million
dollars.
There was little in the character of such a man to excite either
respect or fear. A conspiracy was soon formed for his overthrow. There
was quite a distinguished general, named Vespasian, in command of the
Roman army in Judæa. He had acquired celebrity in the wars of Germany
and Britain, and, having been consul at Rome, had many acquaintances
of influence there. Vespasian entered into a correspondence with the
conspirators. It was not difficult to induce his soldiers to proclaim
him emperor.
Vespasian, remaining himself in the East, sent his army, under his
ablest generals, to Rome. A terrible battle was fought beneath its
walls and through its streets, during which the beautiful capitol,
the pride of the city, was laid in ashes. The troops of Vespasian were
triumphant, and the opposing ranks were utterly crushed. Vitellius,
as cowardly as he was infamous, hid in the cabin of a slave. He was
dragged forth, and paraded through the streets, with his hands bound
behind him, and with a rope round his neck. After enduring hours of
ignominy, derision, and torture, he was beaten to death by the clubs
of the soldiers. His body was then dragged over the pavements; and the
mangled mass, having lost all semblance of humanity, was thrown into
the Tiber.
The obsequious senate immediately united with the victorious army
in declaring Vespasian emperor. While these scenes of tumult and
carnage were transpiring, and the whole Roman empire was desolated
with poverty, oppression, and woe, Christianity was making rapid
and noiseless progress among the masses of the people in many remote
provinces of the empire too obscure or distant to attract the attention
of the emperors. The teachings of Jesus were alike adapted to one and
to all, to every condition, and to every conceivable circumstance in
life. The doctrines of the cross came with moral guidance and with
unspeakable consolation to all who would accept them,――to the millions
of bondmen; to the despised freedmen; to the soldier; to centurions,
governors, and generals; to the members of the imperial palace. It
said to all, “Earth is not your home: lay up for yourselves treasure
in heaven. Accept life’s discipline, bear it patiently, that you may
be prepared by it for honor, glory, and immortality in heaven.”
The Jews in Judæa took advantage of these civil discords to rise in
rebellion against their Roman masters. Vespasian organized an army,
which he placed under his son Titus, to quell the revolt. When Jesus
was crucified at Jerusalem, the Jews said, “His blood be upon us
and on our children.” It was a fearful imprecation, and terribly was
it realized. Christ had minutely foretold the utter destruction of
Jerusalem, so “that not even one stone should be left upon another.”
“When ye shall see Jerusalem,” said Jesus, “compassed with armies, then
know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in
Judæa flee to the mountains, and let them which are in the midst of it
depart out; and let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto.
For these be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written
may be fulfilled. But woe unto them that are with child, and to them
that give suck, in those days! for there shall be great distress in
the land, and wrath upon this people. And they shall fall by the edge
of the sword, and shall be led away captive into all nations; and
Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles.”[169]
It was in the year of our Lord 70. Vials of woe, which even the mystic
symbols of apocalyptic vision cannot exaggerate, were poured out
upon the doomed city. Human nature has perhaps never before nor since
endured such woes. It is impossible for the imagination to conceive
more appalling horrors, or sufferings more terrible, than were then
experienced. The reader will find those scenes of rage, despair, and
misery, minutely detailed by the pen of Josephus. It requires strong
nerves to enable any one to peruse the revolting narrative with
composure.
Probably the disciples of the Saviour, warned by their divine Master,
had all fled from Jerusalem and Judæa, conveying the tidings of the
gospel wherever they went in their wide dispersion. Our Saviour had
urged them to a precipitate flight. “When ye therefore shall see,” said
he, “the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet”
(referring to the Roman armies), “stand in the holy place, then let
them which be in Judæa flee into the mountains; let him which is on
the housetop not come down to take any thing out of his house; neither
let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes: for
then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning
of the world to this time; no, nor ever shall be. And, except those
days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved; but, for the
elect’s sake, those days shall be shortened.”[170]
The siege lasted six months. The city was entirely demolished.
A million of Jews perished by the sword, pestilence, and famine.
A hundred thousand who were taken captive were sold into slavery.
All Judæa was thus brought again into submission to Rome. Titus,
laden with the spoils of the city, and accompanied by his long train of
captives, returned in triumph to Rome. He was received with universal
acclaim. The signal victory he had achieved strengthened the throne
of his father. In commemoration of the event, a triumphal arch was
erected,――_the Arch of Titus_. This massive structure, reared eighteen
hundred years ago, remains almost perfect to the present day. It still
attracts the thoughtful gaze of every tourist in Rome.
Vespasian proved one of the best of the Roman emperors. With
great energy and wisdom, he devoted himself to the welfare of his
wide-spread realms. It was during his reign that the world-renowned
Coliseum, was reared,――the most gigantic amphitheatre in the world.
It furnished seats for eighty thousand spectators, and standing-room
for twenty thousand more. It was in the arena of this vast edifice that
subsequently so many Christians, with a hundred thousand spectators
gazing mockingly upon them, endured the pangs and won the crown of
♦martyrdom.
But under Vespasian there was no persecution. Indeed, it is probable,
that he, residing so long in Judæa, had, like Felix, become somewhat
acquainted with Christian doctrines; and, like Agrippa, he may have
been almost persuaded to become a Christian. The teachings of Jesus
exert an ennobling influence far beyond the bounds of the organized
church; and it is certain that Vespasian exhibited a character of
humanity, of purity, of interest in the public welfare, very different
from that which was developed by most of the Roman emperors. Still
there is no evidence that he became an acknowledged disciple of
Jesus. It is said that he died on the 24th of June, A.D. 79, after
a prosperous reign of ten years.
Feeling himself to be dangerously ill, he remarked to those around him,
derisively, in view of what he knew would be the action of the senate
in voting his deification, “I perceive that I am about to become a
god.” As his end drew near, he said, with pride which he could not have
learned from the religion of Jesus, “An emperor should die standing.”
Aided by his friends, he rose from his couch, and, while sustained by
their arms, expired.
We are confirmed in our view, that the Emperor Vespasian must have been
brought in some degree under the influence of Christian doctrine, from
the marvellous change, resembling true conversion, which suddenly took
place in the character of his son Titus, who succeeded his father on
the throne.
In early years, this young man was exceedingly dissipated; but to the
surprise of every one, and without any known cause which history has
transmitted to us, he abandoned all the vicious practices of his youth,
separated himself from all his dissolute companions, and commenced a
life of integrity, of purity and benevolence, which was certainly such
as the religion of Jesus enjoined. With devotion hitherto unexampled,
he consecrated himself to the welfare of his realm, and to promoting
the happiness of those around him. One of his remarks, illustrative of
his character, has survived the lapse of eighteen centuries. It will
continue to live in the hearts of men so long as earth shall endure. At
the close of a day in which no opportunity had occurred of doing good,
he exclaimed sadly, “Perdidi diem,”――“_I have lost a day._” This truly
Christian sentiment is beautifully versified in the words,――
“Count that day lost whose low-descending sun
Views at thy hand no worthy action done.”
It was during the reign of Titus, in A.D. 79, that the cities of
Herculaneum and Pompeii――as corrupt in all conceivable abominations
as Sodom and Gomorrah could possibly have been――were buried beneath
the lava and ashes of Vesuvius. They were discovered early in the last
century. The remains of these cities, so wonderfully preserved, and now
being brought to light, reveal much of the habits and social customs of
those days.
We know not that Titus was a Christian. The light is very dim which
comes down to us through these long centuries. But it is certain, that,
in very many things, he manifested the spirit of Christ. The reign
of this good man was short. Titus had a brother Domitian, an utterly
depraved young man. He was to Titus as Cain to Abel. Anxious to grasp
the sceptre, it is said that he poisoned his brother Titus when he had
attained the forty-first year of his age and the second of his reign.
The wretched Domitian ascended the throne. It is certain that he had
heard of Jesus, of Christianity. The guilty are always suspicious.
Knowing that the Christians regarded Jesus as their King, that they
were looking for his second coming to reign as their Lord and Master,
he regarded Jesus as a formidable rival. Apprehensive that there might
be some heirs of Jesus around whom the Christians might rally, he
arrested a large number of the disciples, and had them brought before
him for examination. Anxiously he inquired of them what money they had
in their treasury, what territory they possessed, and when and where
the reign of Jesus would commence. The disciples assured him that they
had neither lands nor money. In proof, they showed him their hands,
indurated by toil. They assured him that the kingdom of Jesus was to be,
not an earthly kingdom, but a heavenly and angelic; and that his reign
would not commence until the end of the world, when Jesus would appear
in clouds of glory.
Domitian was by no means satisfied with these replies. It was the
general belief of the Christians, that Christ, in his second coming,
might appear at any time. This was appalling tidings to Domitian. Such
a dethronement was more terrible than any other which could be thought
of. He hated the Christians, and wreaked undiscriminating and pitiless
vengeance upon them. Many were driven from their homes into exile.
They carried with them into the remotest provinces of the empire the
glad tidings of the gospel. Many suffered death, accompanied by all
conceivable tortures.
It is one of the legends of the Catholic Church, that the aged
apostle John, being then at Rome, was, by the order of Domitian,
thrown into a caldron of boiling oil. Miraculously he escaped without
injury. He was then banished to the Isle of Patmos. It was there that
he was favored with that wonderful series of visions recorded in the
book of Revelation. In these mystic pages, so much of which is still
enigmatical, the apostle represents what was to happen in succeeding
ages,――particularly that the Church should suffer persecution; the
punishment of its persecutors; the ruin of Rome, where idolatry
reigned; the destruction of idolatry itself, and the final glory of
the triumphant Church.[171]
There was a very renowned Roman general, by the name of Agricola,
who, under Titus, had been very efficiently employed in Britain in
endeavoring to civilize the barbarous natives. He taught them many of
the manners and customs of the more enlightened Romans. It is said that
Domitian, fearing that Agricola was acquiring reputation, caused him to
be poisoned.
Sin and insanity are closely allied. Domitian wished to enjoy the
splendors of a Roman triumph; but he had never won a victory. He was
no soldier. Still he got up a magnificent civil and military display,
and with streaming banners, and pealing music, and the tramp of armed
legions, entered Rome, charioted like a conqueror returning from
the most triumphant campaign. A large number of slaves, disguised as
captives of war, were led in the train to grace a triumph which exposed
Domitian to universal ridicule and contempt. He assumed divine honors;
reared statues of himself in gold and silver in conspicuous positions,
and required his subjects to address him as a god. Any who were
suspected of being unfriendly to him were mercilessly punished with
torture and death. The extravagance of his expenditure was so enormous,
that Martial says, in one of his epigrams,――
“If the emperor would call in all his debts, Jupiter himself, even
though he had made a general auction of Olympus, would have been unable
to pay two shillings in the pound.”
The tyrant kept a tablet, upon which he wrote the names of those
whom he had doomed to die. His infamous wife Domitia, for some cause
suspecting him, got a peep at the tablet while her husband was asleep.
To her consternation, she found her own name, with those of several
others, on the fatal list. She immediately entered into a conspiracy
with them for the assassination of her husband. One of the conspirators
approached the emperor under the pretence of presenting him a memoir
disclosing a conspiracy. Assuming that his right arm was crippled, it
was hung in a sling. As he presented the memorial with his left hand,
he suddenly drew a concealed dagger, and plunged it into the heart of
the tyrant.
Thus died Domitian, as is reported, on the 17th of September, A.D. 96.
He was but forty-five years of age, and had reigned fifteen years. This
wicked world of ours has produced many monsters. Among them all, it
would be difficult to find any one more execrable than Domitian. In his
character, not a redeeming trait could be found to mitigate the hatred
and contempt with which he was universally regarded. The tidings of
his death were hailed with joy throughout the empire. His statues were
demolished, and his name consigned to infamy.
While these scenes were transpiring within the bounds of the Roman
empire, almost nothing is known of the condition of the world outside
of those not very clearly-defined limits. There are dim and shadowy
glimpses of vast tribes or nations wandering over the hills and plains,
as savage, as ferocious, as the wild beasts in whose skins they were
clad. They seemed to be ever struggling in battle, as they surged to
and fro over the vast plains of India, around the shores of the Caspian,
and through the defiles of the Caucasus, amidst the gloomy forests
extending far away from the remote banks of the Danube to the regions
of eternal ice and snow. Storms of passion and cruelty were here
silently accumulating, which were soon to burst with overwhelming
destruction upon the Roman empire. With many thinking men there was
a growing apprehension of these barbarians, who were gathering in such
appalling swarms upon the frontiers of the Roman world. Occasionally
an adventurous traveller would penetrate these wilds, and bring back
astounding stories of the numbers, barbarism, and warlike ferocity, of
these innumerable tribes.
If we look within the Roman empire, we see little but crime and
misery. A haughty slaveholding aristocracy, few in number, but strong
in the resistless power of the Roman legions, trampled the degraded
and depraved millions beneath their feet. The Roman aristocracy had
scarcely a redeeming virtue. The pillage of the known world had fallen
into their hands. There were those of them who possessed estates larger
than many modern kingdoms. Their vice and luxury were boundless. They
seldom moved unless guarded by a troop of insolent retainers, whose
devotion they easily purchased by spoils of the plundered.
The religion of pagan Rome consisted of a gorgeous display of
magnificent temples, shrines, and imposing ceremonies. It was a
religion which never ennobled the character, exerting no influence
whatever in the promotion of public or individual virtue. Gibbon,
whose authority on this point will not be questioned, states “that the
private character and conduct of these foul idolaters were never in the
slightest degree restrained by the religion which they professed.”
Upon the very day of the death of Domitian, the senate, apprehensive
that the army might anticipate them in the choice of a successor,
conferred the imperial purple upon Nerva, a venerable and virtuous man
of sixty-five. We say that he was venerable and virtuous; while there
is no evidence that he was a disciple of Jesus. It is impossible now
to ascertain how far the influence of the Jewish religion, with its ten
commandments and its revelation of one only God, had extended beyond
the Israelitish organization, or how far the teachings of Jesus had
penetrated the community and was influencing the lives of those who
did not openly profess his name; but it is certain that here and there
individuals were found, though few in number, who were devout men,
like the Roman centurion Cornelius, “who feared God with all his house,
which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway.”
Such a man was Nerva. He immediately recalled all the Christians
who had been banished from Rome by the Emperor Domitian. He issued a
decree forbidding that any one should be molested for cherishing the
faith either of the Jews or of the Christians. The dungeons, which
were filled with the victims of tyranny, he opened, and liberated the
captives. The venerable apostle John was released from his exile at
Patmos, and returned to Ephesus, where it is said that he remained for
the rest of his life.
It is often difficult to discriminate between what should be regarded
as true and what as fable in the annals of those early days. But the
following incident, given by the Abbé Fleury, is alike interesting
and instructive, as showing the reputation which the venerable apostle
enjoyed. It is said that St. John one day attended a meeting of the
disciples in a small village a few miles from Ephesus. A young man
of remarkable personal beauty was also present, who was so frank
and genial in his manners as at once to win the tender regard of the
affectionate disciple whom Jesus loved. Addressing himself to the
pastor of the church after the young man had left, the apostle said,
“In the presence of this church, and of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ, I commend to your especial care this young man.” As he left to
return to Ephesus, he very emphatically repeated the solemn charge.
The bishop or pastor of the church sought the young man, won his
confidence, taught him the religion of Jesus, and finally by baptism
received him to the church. The young man having partaken of the
sacrament of the Lord’s supper, the bishop deemed him safe, and relaxed
his vigilance. But he, being exposed anew to temptation, fell into
bad company, was lured to midnight festivals, gradually abandoned all
religious restraints, and plunged into the most reckless course of
dissipation. His last state became so much worse than the first, that
he at length became captain of a gang of robbers, whose rendezvous was
among the mountains, and who were the terror of the community.
Some time after this, the apostle again visited this rural church. With
deep interest he inquired for the young man. The bishop, with tears
filling his eyes, replied,――
“He is dead,――dead to God. He has become a bad man and a robber.
Instead of frequenting the church, he has established himself in the
fastnesses of the mountains.”
The venerable apostle was overwhelmed with grief. After a moment’s
reflection, he said, “Bring me immediately a horse and a guide.”
Without any preparation, in the clothes he then wore, he advanced
towards the region infested by the robbers. Scarcely had he entered
their rocky haunts ere some of the gang who were on the lookout
arrested the defenceless, penniless, humbly-clad old man. “Conduct me
to your chief,” said the apostle: “I have come expressly to see him.”
The captain soon made his appearance, armed from head to foot. The
moment he recognized the apostle, overwhelmed with shame, he turned,
and endeavored to escape by flight. John, notwithstanding the infirmity
of years, pursued him with almost supernatural speed, and cried,――
“My son, why will you fly from your father, an old man without arms?
Have pity upon me, my son: do not fear. There is still hope that
you may be saved. I will plead for you with Jesus Christ. If it be
necessary, I will willingly give my life for yours, as he has given
his for us. Believe me that Jesus Christ has sent me to you.”
At these words the young man arrested his steps, but could not raise
his eyes from the ground. He threw aside his arms, and then, trembling,
burst into tears, weeping bitterly. When the apostle had reached him,
the young man threw his arms around the neck of the aged Christian, and
with sobbings, either of remorse or penitence, embraced him tenderly.
The apostle endeavored to console the guilty wanderer from the fold
of Christ. He assured him that Jesus was ready to forgive all. He led
him back to the church, engaged all the disciples to pray for him,
and kept him constantly by his side as a companion and a friend. Under
these influences, it is said that the prodigal became a true penitent,
re-entered the church, and ever after continued one of its brightest
ornaments.
It was at Ephesus that John wrote the Gospel that bears his name, and
also his three Epistles. It is said, that in his extreme old age, when
his faculties of body and mind were so enfeebled that he could not make
a continuous discourse, he would frequently rise in the prayer-meetings
of the church, simply repeating the words, “My dear children, love one
another.” When some of the brethren, wearied by the continued utterance
of the same sentiment, inquired of him why he always repeated the same
words, he replied, “Because this is the commandment of our Lord. If
you keep this commandment, you will keep all the rest.” The venerable
apostle died at Ephesus in the year of our Lord 99.
The Emperor Nerva, because he was a good man, was extremely unpopular
with the army, and with the aristocracy, whose wealth was derived from
plundering the helpless. Feeling the infirmities of years, and having
no children, Nerva looked about him for some available candidate to
whom he could transmit the crown. There was a distinguished Roman
general, named Trajan, at the head of an army upon the Danube. He was
stationed there to resist the barbarians from the north, who were now
making frequent inroads into the Roman empire, burning and plundering
without mercy. Trajan constructed a bridge across the Danube. The
ruins of this stupendous structure of twenty-two arches still remain,
testifying to the amazing skill of the Roman engineers. Across this
bridge the impetuous general marched his legions, and, constructing
a military road for their advance, pursued the barbarians through the
wilds of Dacia to the River Dneister, chastising them with terrible
severity. The importance of this conquest was deemed so great, that, in
commemoration of the event, a magnificent monument was reared in Rome.
This world-renowned shaft――the Column of Trajan, a hundred and eighteen
feet in height――still stands, one of the most admired works of art in
the world. Upon a spiral belt intwined around it were sculptured the
principal events of the expedition. Napoleon I. adopted the Column of
Trajan as the model of the still more lofty and imposing column raised
in the Place Vendôme in honor of the French army.
Nerva pronounced Trajan his heir. Hardly had he taken this
important step ere he suddenly died, after a reign of but little
more than a year. Trajan, who, unopposed, assumed the sceptre, though
exceedingly ambitious of military renown, and imposing upon himself no
restraints in sensual indulgence, was a very intelligent, and naturally
a kind-hearted man. But he could not look with a friendly eye upon
the advances which Christianity was making. The teachings of Jesus
condemned both his military career and his personal habits.
Pliny, called the Younger, was then governor of Pontus, in Asia
Minor. There were very many Christians within his realms. Very severe
edicts had been issued from Rome against them. It was Pliny’s duty
to see these decrees executed. But his philosophic mind and humane
spirit recoiled from consigning to torture and to death men, women,
and children in whom he could see no crime worthy of punishment. He
accordingly wrote to the Emperor Trajan the following letter, which
has been transmitted to us by Eusebius:――
“I deem it my duty, sire, to consult your majesty upon all those
questions respecting which I am in doubt; for who can better guide me
in my perplexities, or instruct me in my ignorance? I have never been
present at the trial of the Christians; therefore I do not know for
what they are punished, or with what crimes they are charged: but I
have many doubts whether regard should not be paid to the difference of
age; whether the most tender children should not he distinguished from
those of maturer years; whether those who repent should be entitled
to a pardon; or whether it should be of any avail that one who has
once been a Christian is no longer such. It is also a question with me
whether the name alone should be punished, without any other crime, or
the crimes usually attached to that name.
“Still the following is the course which I have adopted towards those
who have been brought before me as Christians: I have interrogated them
if they were such. When they have confessed it, I have asked them a
second and a third time, threatening them with punishment. If they have
persevered in the declaration, I have pronounced judgment against them;
for I can have no doubt, that, whatever may be the character of the
Christian faith, inflexible obstinacy merits punishment.
“There are others of these fanatical persons whom I have ordered to be
sent to Rome, since they were Roman citizens. Accusations, as is usual
in such cases, are greatly multiplied, and very many are denounced to
me. An anonymous proscription-list has been made out, containing the
names of many who deny that they are, or ever have been, Christians.
“When I have seen those accused worshipping the gods with me, and
offering incense to your image which I have erected among the statues
of the gods, and, most of all, when they have abjured Christ, I have
thought it my duty to set them at liberty; for I am told that it is
impossible to compel those who are truly Christians to do either of
these things.
“So far as I can learn, the only fault or error of which the Christians
are guilty consists in this: They are accustomed to assemble on a
certain day before the rising of the sun, and to sing together a hymn
in honor of Christ as a god. Instead of binding themselves to the
commission of any crime, they take a solemn oath not to be guilty
of fraud or robbery or impurity, or any other wrong. They promise
never to violate their word, never to be false to a trust. After this
they retire, soon to meet again to partake of a simple and innocent
repast; but from this they abstained after the ordinance I issued, in
accordance with your orders, prohibiting the people from assembling
together.
“The repasts of the Christians were innocent, although the calumny has
been widely diffused that they stifled an infant and ate it. I thought
it necessary, in order to ascertain the truth, to subject to the
torture two females who had served at these feasts; but I could detect
nothing but an unreasonable superstition.
“This subject has seemed to me the more worthy of investigation in
consequence of the great numbers of the accused. Many persons, of all
ages, of both sexes, and of every condition in life, are placed in
peril. The superstition has infested not only the cities, but the
villages and the remote rural districts. But it seems to me that it
can be arrested and exterminated. Certain it is that the temples of
the gods, which had been almost abandoned, have begun to be frequented.
Solemn sacrifices, after long interruption, are again celebrated. Even
in the most sparsely-settled districts, the victims for sacrifice are
to be seen. Hence one may judge of the large number of those who would
return to the gods if an opportunity were given for repentance.”
This letter was written about the year of our Lord 106. Trajan, in his
reply, says,――
“You have done perfectly right, my dear Pliny, in the inquiry you
have made concerning Christians; for truly no one general rule can be
laid down which can be applied to all cases. They must not be sought
after. If they are brought before you, and convicted, let them be
capitally punished; yet with this restriction,――that if any renounce
Christianity, and evidence their sincerity by supplicating our gods,
however suspected they may be for the past, they shall obtain pardon
for the future on their repentance. But anonymous libels in no case
ought to be noticed; for the precedent would be of the worst sort, and
perfectly incongruous with the maxims of my government.”
This response of the emperor checked in some degree the persecutions
with which the Christians were menaced; but it did not prevent their
enemies from inflicting upon them, under various pretexts, all the
injury in their power. In many places the populace, and in others the
magistrates, pursued them with obloquy and oppression; so that, while
there was no general and declared persecution, they were everywhere
exposed to insult and outrage.