Front matter
‘2a iiad 4 pe apaheaaei
J.
N.
Chapter I
NERVA.—A. D, 96-98.
PAGE Nerva raised to the throne by the murderers of Domitian. I Treats the agents of past tyranny with forbearance, though
Pliny and others cried for vengeance . 2 . ° 3 Nerva’s measures for the poorer citizens : ° tia 5 The mutiny on the Danube appeased by Dion City cocety 6
The violence of the praetorians caused the Emperor to choose Trajan as his colleague and successor, A.D. 97 ‘ ° 6 Death of Nerva, A.D. 98 i : : - : = 7
CHAPTER Ii
TRAJAN.—A. D. 97-117.
Trajan avenges the outrage done to Nerva . : . ° 7 After a year’s delay enters Rome without parade . : 9 The simple bearing of his wife Plotina . : : : : 9 His respect for constitutional forms . . ; : ; Io His frank courtesy and fearless confidence. ua ys 12 His thrift and moderation excite the surprise of Pliny . Z 12 His economy could save little except in personal expenditure 14
Large outlay on roads, bridges, ports and aqueducts, baths MSE ye es a A aap rar = The charitable endowments for poor children 19 Which lead others to act in a like spirit ; : 21 22
Trajan’s policy with regard to the corn trade . : ; :
vi Contents.
PAGE His treatment of provincial interests as shown in the correspondence with Pliny, A.D. III-113 . : : : 23 He would not meddle needlessly or centralize too fast . e 25 His war policy . “ . . 26 On the side of Germany he had stenrhened the ‘fronted with defensive works . : i ‘ me 7 The rise of the Dacian eee ane cent’ of Decebalus . 29 Trajan declared war and set out, A.D. IOI 3 : 29 The course of the campaign - ‘ “ : 31 The battle of Tapze, advance into Tnatee ee and Roman victories bring the first war toa close. A.D. 102 . - 32 Peace did not last long , ; : x 5 34 Trajan’s preparations and bridge of stone across the Danee Ren * The legions converged on Dacia and crushed the enemy, ALD&TOOs%, ; : : : : ;: 4 35 The country was eioaiea she garrisoned : : . - 36 The survival of Rome’s influence in the Roumanian language 37 Trajan’s forum and triumphal column . 38 The conquest of Arabia . . . :. : . 40 War declared against Parthia, A.D. 113 : F . 42 Trajan arrives at Antioch, and marches through Ate 43 Parthamasiris deposed and slain . 45 Submission of the neighbouring princes . : 45 The great earthquake at Antioch, A.D, 115 . ; : ee Trajan crossed the Tigris and carried all before him as far as the Persian Gulf 3 ¢ : " ‘ : : 47 But the lately conquered countries rose in his rear, and he was forced to retire . z A ; : 48 His death at Selinus, and Ree ry 49 Taken as a type of heathen justice in legend te. art 51 CHAPTER III.
HADRIAN.—A.D. 117-138. ; The earlier life of Hadrian . ‘ SI His sudden elevation to the throne ies aot rumours - 52
His policy of. peace accompanied by personal hardihood and regard for discipline . °
Contents. vii PAGE He travelled constantly through the provinces 55 We hear of him in Britain, Africa, Asia Minor, and in iihers above all : : ‘ 3 . . : “ F 57 And in Egypt . : 3 ‘ : ‘ ° roe 2 The death and pativcais of atatns : 60 Hadrian's interests cosmopolitan more than eoruan ‘ 61 The levelling influence of the “‘ Perpetual Edict,’ A.D. 132. 62 Hadrian’s frugality and good finance : ‘ . 63 The dark moods and caprices attributed to inn ‘ ‘ 64 His suspicious temper, system of espionage, and jealousy of brilliant powers : : : ‘ ’ : 65 His fickleness, superstition, and variety of temper . ° «i OF Reasons for mistrusting these accounts of ancient authors 68 His villa at Tivoli ‘ : . : a0 Struck by disease, he chose Verne as successor, A.D. 135, who died soon after . : 71 Antoninus, was adopted in his piace . . . a2 Hadrian’s dying agony, and fitful moods of eatlty - : 72 His death and canonization 73 The mausoleum of Hadrian : , 2 74 The outbreak in Palestine was at last fecrible stamped out qs CHAPTER IV.
ANTONINUS PIUS.—A.D. 138-16t.
The reign of Antoninus was uneventful 77 Why called Pius : 77 His good-nature was free from eres 78 He did not travel abroad, but was careful of Besvieel inte- Tests?’ . . . 79 Wars were needful with tobe) Dee ath ees vel he gained more by diplomacy . : é ; 80 His homely life at Lorium . 81 His easy and forgiving temper 81 Tender care of his adopted son, to batted ‘is left the aang at his death . c - : . : : . ; 84
Vili Contents.
CHAPTER V.
MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS.—A.D. 147-180.
PAGE The early life of M. Aurelius . : : 84 His correspondence with Fronto, his old tutor : : » 85 His conversion from rhetoric to auc) - : : 86 The jealousy of Fronto . ; é : : . 86 Offices of state and popular favour did not turn the head of the young prince. . . : . . 88 He looked to the Stoic “aes for guidance, bee without loss of tenderness . ° ° . ‘ ° . 89 Fronto, like Faustina, ian little love for philosophers. . go On the death of Antoninus M. Aurelius shared his power with L. Verus, A.D. 161 “ ; z . : A aGE Ominous prospects, floods, dangers on the Euphrates . gI Verus starts for the East, where the soldiers were demoralized 93 The Parthians were humbled, and Verus claimed the merit of his general’s successes, A.D. 166 . : ; 5 ° - 95 Fronto’s courtly panegyric . . * : : 95 M. Aurelius meantime endows charities for founds appoints juridici, and guardians for orphans, and work unremittingly 96 But he is called away to the scene of war : 98 The fortune of the Roman arms in Britain . P : 99 Both Emperors started for the Danube, where the paedee races sued for peace * : . . IoL The ravages of the plague, A.D. fe 3 ° : . 101 The war begins again, but is checked by the rian of the plague : : ° on LO Verus dies, and M. Rate ae rataitakarth alone, A.D. 169 103 The long and arduous struggle on the Northern frontier . 104 The Marcomannic war followed by the campaign against the Quadi, in which we read of the marvel of the ‘‘ Thundering Legion” . . ° : . : 106 The revolt of aan Oeaue A.D. 175 5 - : ° «808 Contempt expressed by him for the Emperor as a ruler . 110 The speedy failure of the insurrection . : : IIr The Emperor showed no vindictive feeling. : . «Zia
Contents. 1X
PAGE He went to restore order in the East, and Faustina died on the way. . : . . . : : : » 113 His short rest at Rome, and endowments in memory of his wife é . . : . , ° . ‘ 114 Recalled to the war in the North, he dled: at Vienna or Sir- : mium, A.D. 180 . . . . . : ° ° ALS 4 14 Grief of his subjects, and monuments in his honour . : II5 His “ Meditations’’ reflect his habits of self-inquiry and gratione; ° : : . : . , : : vee
There is no trace in them of morbid vanity or self-contempt 121 He tried to be patient and cheerful in the hard work of life . 122
Nor was he too ambitious or too sanguine in his aims : 124 His anticipations of Christian feeling . ° . : 125 The thought of a Ruling Providence stirred his heart with tenderness and love . . ° . ° ° ° 128 His delicate sympathy with Nature . ¢ : : <-129 His melancholy and sense of isolation . ° ° . 131 The austere Stoic creed could not content him . . seat The contrast of the contemporary Christians . . ; 131 M. Aurelius was unfortunate in his son Commodus : 4-332
Was he also in his wife Faustina? Reasons for doubting the truth of the common story . : : : s | 133
(Jian Re Vip
THE ATTITUDE OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT TOWARDS THE CHRISTIANS.
The Christians at first regarded as a Jewish sect, and not dis-
turbed ; : ° F < - ' we 239 In the time of Nero we trace dislike to the Christians as such 137 They were regarded as unsocial and morose fanatics, accused
of impiety and of foul excesses : F M : 138 Christianity was not made illegal till the tlme of Trajan, whose
answer to Pliny determined the law . ; : - $41 The reasons why the government might distrust the Chtistian
Church . is ‘ A ° i : . . . 143 Succeeding Emperors inclined to mercy, but the popular dis-
like grew more intense . . : ° . ° + 145 aan Conients.
PAGE The rescripts of Hadrian and Antoninus very questionable 146 The martyrdom of Polycarp i : 2 : : : 147 The persecution at Vienna and Lugdunum , 5 Ags
Lucian’s account of Peregrinus Proteus reflects some none features of the early Church, A.D. 165. : : : I51 The attack of Celsus, A.D. 150, was answered in later days . 152 The line of argument taken by the Apologists of the age . 154 The life of Justin Martyr : : : ; : . i= 55
CHAPTER VII.
THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE STATE RELIGION, AND OF THE RITES IMPORTED FROM THE EAST,
The Emperors respected the old forms of national religion 157 The Collegia or brotherhoods. : . : 158 The official registers of the Arval Brothers, containing a full description of their ritual . . . . . - 159 We may note (1) their punctilious teed for ancient forms 161 (2) The absence of moral or spiritual influence . 2 « 8162
(3) The loyalty to the established powers of state . ° 163 The old religion was cold and meagre, and aes by
EXOlHC GIeeGs: ° : : : 164 The civil power only feebly opepeea the new rites, which were
welcomed by devout minds like Plutarch and Maximus
LyTus po . : . “ . F - 165 The mystic reveries and visions . Aristides in his sickness,
A.D. 144-161 . : : . f 168 New moods of ecstatic feeling: self: Pals and excitement,
and mystic gloom encouraged by Eastern religions . - 168 The rite of the fauroboliune : : : 4 170
The new comers lived in peace in the ‘ape Pantheon HES od | CHAPTER Vili.
THE LITERARY CURRENTS OF, THE AGE.
The enthusiasm for learning, but want of creative power . a9 The culture of the age was mainly Greek and professorial . 173 The various classes of Sophists . 3 ° ; : - 395
1. Moralists and Philosophers . . . . . . 176
Contents.
X1 PAGE Epictetus, fl. under Trajan A : : ’ : ; 178 Dion Chrysostom ; : . : : ‘ ; 182 Plutarch i“ eo , é : ; : : 185 2. Literary artists and Boreas i : ; : » 189 Fronto, A.D. 90-168 : 190 * Polemon, fl. under Hadrian . ‘ - ; 192 Favorinus ‘ at ts . : 193 Herodes Atticus, A.D. 101-177 : . : 193 Apuleius, fl. under M. Aurelius . : : ( 197 Lucian ¥ ee : : : 199 CHAPTER IX.
THE ADMINISTRATIVE FORMS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT.
The Emperor was an absolute sovereign, and his ministers were at first his domestics, afterwards knights ° . 203 The most important officers were, (1) a rationibus (treasurer) 204 2. Ab epistulis (secretary) . . : - : . 205 3. A libellis (clerk of petitions) ; ; - : 205 4. A cubiculo (chamberlain) ; : . : 206 The Privy Council ; : ; , : ° ete tae 3200 The Preefect of the city . : : : : . 207 The Prezefect of the Preetorian Ghavde ‘ 7 : 3 4207 The provincial governors and their suite. ° : . 208 Local magistrates and local freedom. . . A » 209 Few guarantees of permanence . : 3 : : : Orr The municipalities courted interference ° : . Seeks The governors began to meddle more ; : ‘ ‘ 212 The Ceesar was more appealed to . rhe ; . a 2t2 The actual evils ofa later age . : : : : ; 213
1. The pressure of taxation, moderate at first, became more and more intense . : : . . - 213
2. Theincrease of bureaucracy was followed by oppressive
restrictions on the Civil Service . ; ; : 216 3. The municipal honours became onerous charges wie EP 4. Trades and industries became hereditary burdens . 219 223
MM ar ae
ORIGINAL AUTHORITIES.
Scriptores Historie Aucuste.
DION Cassius, Hist. Rom, XIPHILINY Epit. PLINY, Letters.
FRONTO, Letters,
MARCUS ANTONINUS, QUOTED COMMONLY IN THE TRANSLA- TION OF G. LONG.
PLUTARCH, Moral Treatises, LUCIAN, Works,
Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum,
LIST JOP aMa
—S ee
I. MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE DACIAN WAR. To face page 3%
Il. MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE PARTHIAN WAR. Y 43 yyy A ALA { wi
ROMAN HISTORY.
THE AGE OF THE ANTONINES.
CGCHAPTER.E NERVA. A. D. 96-98.
BEFORE the murderers of Domitian raised their hands to strike the fatal blow, they looked around,
we read, to find a successor to replace him. Nev? rt Others whom they sounded on the subject — {prone by shrunk away in fear or in suspicion, tillthey ers of Dothought of M. Cocceius Nerva, who was likely to fill worthily the office that would soon be vacant.
Little is known of his career for more than sixty years, till after he had twice been consul, and when his work seemed almost done, he rose for a little while to take the highest place on earth. The tyrant on the throne had eyed him darkly, had banished him because he heard that the stars pointed in his case to the signs of sovereign power, and indeed only spared his life because other dabblers in the mystic lore said that he was fated soon to die. The sense of his danger, heightened by his knowledge of the plot, made Nerva bold when others ; B
2 The Age of the Antonines. ALD.
flinched; so he lent the conspirators his name, and rosé by their help to the imperial seat. He had dallied with the Muses, and courted poetry in earlier years; but he showed no creative aims as ruler, and no genius for heroic measures. The fancy or the sanguine confidence of youth was chequered perhaps by waning strength and feeble health, or more probably a natural kindliness of temper made him more careful of his people’s wants. After the long nightmare of oppression caused by the caprices of a moody despot, Rome woke again to find herself at rest under a sovereign who indulged no wanton fancies, but was gentle and calm and unassuming, er. homely in his personal bearing, and thrifty gentlemode- With the coffers of the state. He had few save expensive tastes, it seemed, and little love for grand parade, refusing commonly the proffered statues and gaudy trappings of official rank. As an old senator, he felt a pride in the dignity of the august assembly, consulted it in all concerns of moment, and pledged himself to look upon its members’ lives as sacred. A short while since and they were cowering before Domitian’s sullen frown, or shut up in the senate house by men-at-arms while the noblest of their number were dragged out before their eyes to death. But now they had an Emperor who treated them as his peers, who listened patiently to their debates, and met them on an
easy footing in the courtesies of social life.
treating He rose above the petty jealousy which the senate oe ° with re- looks askant at brilliant powers or great hisspect, toric names, and chose even as his colleague in the consulship the old Verginius Rufus, in whose hands once lay the imperial power had he only cared to grasp it. Nor was he haunted by suspicious fears, such as sometimes give the timid a fierce appetite for blood. For when he learnt that a noble of old family had formed a plot against his life, he took no steps to punish him, but kept him close beside him in his train, talked to him at the theatre with calm composure, and even handed him a sword to try its edge and temper, as if intent to prove that he had no mistrustful or revengeful thought.
There were many indeed to whom he seemed too easy-going, too careless of the memories of wrong-doing, to satisfy their passionate zeal for justice. There were those who had seen their friends or kinsmen hunted to death by false accusers, who thought that surely now at length they might wreak their vengeance on the tyrant’s bloodhounds. The early days of Nerva’s Ms ee rule seemed to flatter all their hopes, for the agents of prison doors were opened to let the innocent | pene be go forth, while their place was taken by ‘*#bearance, spies and perjurers and all the harpies who had preyed on noble victims. For a while it seemed as if the days of retribution were at hand, but the Emperor’s gentle temper, or the advice of wary counsellors, prevailed; Nerva soon stayed his hand, and would not have the first pages of his annals scored in characters of blood. To many, such clemency seemed idle weakness; Pliny, humane and tender-hearted as he was, reflects in his familiar letters the indignation of his class, and sorely frets to think of the great crimi- Pena nals who flaunted in the eyes of men the others cried pride of their ill-gotten wealth. He tells sear (PI. with a malicious glee the story of a supper- cones party in the palace, where the name of a notorious informer happened to come up, and first one and then another of the guests told tale after tale of his misdeeds, till the Emperor asked at last what could be done with him if he were living still, Whereupon one bolder than the rest replied, ‘“‘he would be asked to supper. with us here to-night;’’ and indeed close beside Nerva there was lolling on the couch an infamous professor of the same black art.
We may read, too, in a letter written long afterwards to a young friend, how Pliny came forward in the senate to laud the memory of the great Helvidius, and brand with infamy the wretch who caused his death. At first he found scant sympathy from those who heard him. Some troubled with a guilty conscience tried to drown his voice in clamour, on the plea that no notice had been given of his motion ; some begged him not to raise the ghosts of worn-out feuds, but to let them rest in peace awhile after the long reign of terror. Wary friends, too, warned him to be cautious, lest he should make himself a mark for the jealousy of future rulers. But Pliny was resolute and persevered, The consul, who acted as Speaker in the senate, silenced him indeed at first, but let him rise at length in his own turn, and, leaving the subject then before the house, speak for the memory of his injured friend, till the full stream of his indignant eloquence carried the listening senators along, and swept away the timid protests raised for the accused. The Emperor stepped in, and stayed proceedings in the senate ; but the orator recalled with pride in later years the enthusiasm which his vehemence had stirred, and felt no throb of pity in his kindly heart when he wastold that the wretched man whom he accused was haunted soon after in his dying moments by his own stern look and passionate words. But Nerva was determined to let the veil fall on the past. He raised no question about the favours and the boons of earlier rulers, but respected the immunities and dispensations however carelessly bestowed.
96-98. Nerva. es
There were still three powers that must be reckoned with before any government could feel se- . cure—the populace of Rome, the frontier measures legions, and the pretorian guards. The ne citifirst looked to be courted and caressed as) *"* usual; but the treasury was empty, and Nerva was too thrifty to spend lavishly on the circus or the theatres or the processions which helped to make a Roman holiday. Still he was careful of the real interests of the poor; he gave large sums for land to be granted freely to the colonists who would exchange the lounging indolence of Rome for honest industry in country work, Where funds were wanting for this purpose, he stripped the palace of its costly wares, sold even the heirlooms of his family, and gave up houses and broad lands to carry out his plans for the well-being of his subjects. To show that such self-sacrifice was due to no caprice of passing fancy, he had the new name of ‘‘ The Palace of the People’’ set up in characters which all might read upon the mansion of the Cesars, while the coins that were struck in his imperial mint bore the old name of Liberty upon their face. For he peress: tried, says Tacitus, to reconcile the claims of monarchy and freedom—the two things found incompatible before.
The distant legions had suffered little from Domitian’s misrule. His father and brother had been generals of mark, and the thought of his own inglorious campaigns soon faded from their memory; they knew him chiefly as a liberal paymaster and indulgent chief, and they heard with discontent that the Flavian dynasty had fallen, and that Rome had chosen a new ruler. The soldiers on the Danube broke out into open riot when they heard the news, and talked of marching to avenge their masaH ter. But by good hap, a certain Dion, a e mutiny : , onthe Dan- poor wandering scholar, was at hand. Driv. rei erat en by the fallen tyrant into exile as a phi- Chrysostom. —_ Josopher of note, he had lived a vagrant life upon the frontier, working for a paltry pittance as a gardener’s daily drudge, and carrying in hi. little bundle, for the solace of his leisure, only the Phaedon of Plato and a single oration of Demosthenes. Roused now to sudden action by the mutiny among the legions, he flung aside, like the hero of the Odyssey, the rags that had disguised him, and gathering a crowd together he held the rude soldiers spellbound by the charms of an eloquence which had won for him the name of Chrysostom or Golden-mouthed, while he called up before their fancy the outrages that had wearied a long-suffering world, and armed against the despot the foes of his own household. So Dion’s well-turned phrases, on which his biographer dwells with admiring pride, soothed the excited mutineers, and caused the bonds of discipline to regain their hold.
But the pretorians were dangerously near to Rome, and had already learnt their power to set up or to dethrone their rulers. Their generals-in-chief had taken part in the murder of Domitian, and had influence enough at first to keep their troops in hand, and make
them swear fealty to another Emperor. But Jntenee ofthe discontent soon spread among them; the prone creatures of Domitian plied them with intrigues, and found mouths ready to complain of scanty largess and of slow promotion under the influence of the newrégime. The smouldering fire soon burst intoa flame. The guards marched in open riot to the palace with ominous cries, and clamoured for the murderers’ heads. It was in vain that Nerva tried to soothe their fury; in vain he bared his neck and bade them strike; the ringleaders would have their will, and dragged their victims off to death before the feeble Em-
; f caused the peror's eyes. Such a confession of his Emperor to weakness was fatal, as he felt, to his useful- to ar eels ness as a ruler. He knew that stronger jee we hands than his were needed to steer the 4-D. 97. state through the troubled waters, and he resolved to choose at once a worthy colleague and successor.
He chose with a rare unselfishness no kinsman or intimate of his own, not even a noble of old Roman lineage, but a soldier of undoubted merit, who was then in high command among the legions on the German frontier. A few days afterwards the Emperor made his way in state to the temple on the Capitol, to offer thanks for the news of victory just brought from Pannonia to Rome, and there, in the hearing of the crowd, he adopted Trajan as his son, with an earnest prayer that the choice might prove a blessing to the state. Then in the senate house he had the name of Cesar given to his partner in the cares of office, and that done, soon passed away from life, after sixteen months of rule, which served only as a fitting prelude to the government of his successor.
CHAPTER II.
TRAJAN. A.D. 97-117.
MArcus ULPIuS TRAJANUS, a native of Italica in Spain, had been trained from early youth in the hard discipline of Roman warfare, and by long service in Trajan the camps had earned a title to the round —avenaes the of civil honours, and toa place among the done to
‘ Nerva senators of Rome. Summoned by Domitan :
from Spain at the head of a legion to the Rhine, he had come probably too late to help in quelling a revolt; but he had won by his promptitude the honour of a consulship, and was advanced by Nerva to the command of upper Germany, then the most important of provincial offices, in which his energy was being proved when the unlooked for news arrived that he was chosen for the imperial succession; and the tidings of Nerva’s death found him still busy with his military duties on the Rhine. He was yet in the full vigour of his manhood when the cares of state fell with the purple mantle on his shoulders; the changing scenes of his laborious life had taught him experience of men and manners, and it was with no wavering hands that he took up the reins of office, and he grasped them firmly to the end. Mutiny and discontent seemed to have vanished already at his name; but he had not forgotten the outrage done to Nerva, nor the parting charge in which he prayed him, like the aged Chryses in the words of Homer, ‘“‘to avenge the suppliant’s unavailing tears.” Trajan was prompt and secret. The ringleaders of the riot were called away to Germany on various pleas, and
none came back to tell how they were treated there. But though he could enforce discipline with needful rigour, he had no lack of reverence for constitutional forms. One of his earliest official acts was but writes
to the a letter to the senate, full of regard for its pee cated august traditions, in the course of which he mn ta promised to respect the life of every man of worth. The credulous fancy of the age, as reported in the history of Dion Cassius, saw the motive for the promise in a dream, in which a venerable figure came before him, clad in a purple robe and with a garland on his head—
Q7-I17. Trajan. 9 such as was the painter’s symbol for the senate—and laid his finger upon Trajan’s neck, leaving his signet stamp first on one side and then upon the other. Whatever we may think the cause, whether sense of justice or mysterious warning prompted him to write that letter, he tried certainly to make good the promise it contained, and trod the dizzy heights of absolute power with the calmness of a serene and balanced temper. He was in no haste to enter Rome or receive the homage of the senate and the people. Perhaps he breathed more freely in the camp, where he lived as simply as his ancient comrades, and mistrusted the parade and insincerity of the great city. Perhaps he waited till he felt his throne secure, and till he knew that the far-off legions had ratified the choice of Nerva.
At length, after a year’s delay, he quietly set out upon the journey, without any stately train of followers to burden with exactions the towns through which they passed, The only trace of ostentation vente dais which he showed was in publishing the per io items of his travelling expenses side by side _ out parade,
2 ; A. D. 99. with the accounts of the processions of Domitian,
At his first entry into Rome there was the same absence of parade. He eschewed the white horses and triumphal car of the imperial pageants; no numerous body-guard kept the people at a distance, but as his manly figure moved along the streets, men saw him interchange a hearty greeting with the senators he met, and pass no old acquaintance unob-
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