[180-235 A.D.]

Diocletian. The part of the Roman aristocracy was played out; after having worn folly threadbare in the first century, it had worn virtue threadbare in the second. But the hidden forces of the great Mediterranean confederacy were not exhausted. Thus, after the downfall of the political edifice founded on the sovereignty of the family of Augustus, a provincial dynasty, that of the Flavians, was found to restore the empire, even as after the downfall of the edifice built up by the adoptions of the Roman aristocracy, there were found provincials, Orientals and Syrians, to restore the great association in which all men found peace and profit. Septimius Severus did, without moral grandeur but not without glory, what Vespasian had done.

It is true that the representatives of this new dynasty are not to be compared to the great emperors of the second century. Even Alexander Severus, who equals Antoninus and Marcus in kindliness, is very inferior to them in intelligence and greatness of soul. The principles of the government are detestable; men outbid one another for the favour of the legions; a price is set on mutiny; none approaches the soldier except with purse in hand. Military despotism never took a more shameless form; but military despotism can be long-lived.

Side by side with hideous spectacles, under the Syrian emperors, what reforms do we find! What progress in legislation! What a day was that when, under Caracalla, all free men dwelling within the empire attained equal rights!

We must not exaggerate the advantages offered by such equality; yet in politics words are never wholly void of meaning. Many excellent things had been inherited. The philosophers of the school of Marcus Aurelius had disappeared, but their place was taken by the masters of jurisprudence. Papinian, Ulpian, Paul, Gaius, Modestinus, Florentinus, Marcian, during years of execrable evil, created masterpieces and actually brought the law of the future into being. The Syrian emperors, though far inferior to Trajan and to the Antonines as far as political traditions are concerned, inasmuch as they were not Romans and had none of the Roman prejudices, often give proof of an openness of mind which would have been impossible to the great emperors of the second century, all of whom were intensely conservative. They permitted and even encouraged colleges or syndicates. They went to extreme lengths in this matter, and they would have organised the trade guilds as castes with a distinctive garb. They flung the doors of the empire wide open. One of them, that noble and pathetic figure Alexander Severus, the son of Mamæa, almost equalled in his plebeian goodness the patrician virtues of the great age; the loftiest ideas pale before the honest effusions of his heart.

It was in religion above all that these Syrian emperors inaugurated a liberality of mind and a tolerance unknown before.1 The Syrian women of Emesa, Julia Domna, Julia Mæsa, Julia Mamæa, Julia Soæmias, beautiful, intelligent, venturous to the point of utopianism, are hampered by no tradition or conventionality. They dared to do what no Roman woman had ever done; they entered the senate, took part in its deliberations, and practically governed the empire, dreaming of Semiramis and Nitocris. It was a thing that such a woman as Faustina would not have done for all her

[1 The substitution of the Syro-Phoenician sun-god by Elagabalus naturally recalls the monotheistic reformation of Amenhotep IV (Khun-aten) in Egypt more than sixteen centuries before. In Amenhotep's day, Syrian influence predominated at the Egyptian court, as it did at Rome in the beginning of the third century A.D. That the culminating result of this should have been so much the same in both cases is a matter that seems to call for at least passing notice.]

[180-235 A.D.] frivolity; she would have been checked by tact, by the sense of absurdity, by the rules of good Roman society. The Syrian women hesitated at nothing. They had a senate of women, which enacted every sort of absurdity. The Roman religion seemed to them cold and meaningless. They had no family reasons for attachment to it, and being more in harmony, imaginatively, with Christianity than with Italian paganism, they delighted in the tales of the travels of gods upon the earth. Philostratus enchanted them with his Apollonius; perhaps they had a secret leaning towards Christianity.

During this time the last noble ladies of the older society, such as the elderly daughter of Marcus Aurelius, honoured by all men and put to death by Caracalla, lived in obscurity, looking on at an orgy which formed so strange a contrast to the memories of their youth.

The provinces, and those of the East more particularly, which were far more active and enlightened than those of the West, gained a decided ascendency. Elagabalus was certainly a madman, but nevertheless his chimerical idea of a central monotheistic religion, established in Rome and absorbing all others, shows that the narrow circle of Antonine conceptions had been to a great extent broken through. Mamaa and Alexander Severus were to go further; whilst the jurisconsults continued to transcribe their old and ferocious maxims against liberty of conscience with the calmness of habit, the Syrian emperor and his mother studied Christianity, and manifested sympathy with it. Not content with granting security to the Christians, Alexander, with touching eclecticism, introduced the name of Jesus among his household gods. Peace seemed made, not, as under Constantine, by the abasement of one party, but by a generous reconciliation. In all this there was certainly a daring attempt at reform, inferior in rationality to that of the Antonines, but more likely to succeed because it was much more popular and took the provinces and the East more into account.

In such a democratic work, people with no ancestors, such as these Africans and Syrians, had more chance of success than rigid men of irreproachable bearing, like the aristocratic emperors. But the innate viciousness of the imperial system revealed itself for the tenth time. Alexander Severus was assassinated by the soldiers on the 19th of March, 235. It was clear that the army would tolerate none but tyrants. The empire had fallen successively from the Roman aristocracy to provincial officers, now it passed to subordinate officers and military assassins. Whereas, until the time of Commodus, the murdered emperors are intolerable monsters, it is now the good emperor, the man who desires to restore some kind of discipline and represses the crimes of the army, who is inevitably marked for death. Still, it cannot be denied that there was need of strong, able commanders on the eve of the barbarian invasions. With all his virtues, Alexander was a weakling, unfit to rule at such a time. With his death the military revolution entered upon a third stage. It became more than ever necessary to strengthen the imperial office, because, it having been decided that the emperor should be a soldier, the choice of the soldiers, rival claimants of the office were threatening, by their civil strife, to break up the Roman world into a multitude of warring states.

CHAPTER XL.

(235-285 A.D.)

"Now begins the inferno of half a century (235-284), in which all philosophy, all civil order, all delicacy founders; with power put up to auction, the soldiery masters of everything; with sometimes ten tyrants at once; with the barbarian entering through all the breaches of a shattered world; with Athens destroying her ancient monuments, to girdle herself with ill-built walls as a protection against the Goths. If anything can show the intrinsic necessity of the Roman Empire, it is the fact that it was not wholly put out of joint by this anarchy and retained breath enough to revive under the vigorous action of Diocletian, and to endure for two centuries more. In every class the decadence is terrible. In fifty years the art of sculpture is forgotten. Latin literature comes to an end. It is as if a vampire brooded over society, drinking its life-blood."-RENAN.

BAD matters become worse in the period we are now entering. Old evils remain, and new ones are added. The rule of the soldiers is absolute, and as before, money affords the only channel to the suffrage of these rulers of the empire. As before, there is an incessant scramble after the honours and emoluments of the imperial office; as before, successful and unsuccessful aspirants alike place themselves on the sure road to an early death, so soon as they attempt to grasp the purple.

In the half century we are now entering, some seventeen emperors who may be styled legitimate holders of the title, pass in rapid succession before the view; and with only one or two doubtful exceptions they all meet a tragic end. Some reign for a few weeks or months, some for a few years; some are young, some are old; but neither the tender years of a Gordian nor the senility of a Tacitus can give protection from the imperial fate.

All this indeed is but a repetition of what we have seen in the half century just gone. There is no sudden transition, no marked revolution. And yet the time upon which we are entering has in other respects a character that is peculiarly its own. It marks a condition towards which the empire has been steadily tending; a condition that is the logical, the necessary outcome of the antecedent conditions we have studied. The essence of this new condition is found in the de-romanisation of the empire. From now on the rulers of Rome, with rare exceptions, are no longer Romans in the old sense of the word. Caracalla, to be sure, gave Roman citizenship to all free men in the empire, which list, it may be noted, included vast numbers of persons who had once been slaves. But the sweep of the imperial stylus,

[235-285 A.D.]

while it may make the Gaul and the Goth, the Dalmatian and the Dacian, the Syrian and the Arab, each and all Romans in the official sense, is impotent to change the racial traits of this heterogeneous company. The man from the provinces, who has never been within a thousand miles of Rome, may count himself a Roman citizen, may even glory in the name, but beyond peradventure his closest interests lie with his own kith and kin, with his own race, as against those others of his fellow-citizens who live in far-distant lands, and have habits, customs, and languages different from his own.

In the present connection this natural instinct comes to have much importance. It becomes increasingly evident that we no longer have a strongly centralised government. In the first instance nearly all the emperors are themselves men from the provinces. A great city is seldom the birthplace of the great men of any epoch. It has been said that Rome never produced a poet, and the briefest analysis of her great names will show that few men indeed whom posterity remembers were born within the confines of the city itself. But in the early day the great Romans were, for the most part, born in Italy, if not at the capital. In the first century, indeed, importance attaches, as we have seen, to a good many adoptive Romans who were born in Asia Minor, and to others who came from Spain-such men as the Senecas, Lucan, and Quintilian. In the second century of the empire, it will be recalled, two of the greatest emperors, Trajan and Hadrian, were Spaniards. But these are exceptional instances.

Now, however, we are entering upon a period when the Roman emperor, almost as a matter of course, is not an Italian. Maximian is a Thracian peasant, Philip is an Arab, Decius comes from Pannonia, Æmilianus is said to be a Moor; Claudius, Probus, Carus, and Carinus come from various regions of Illyricum. Some of these provincials visit Rome whenever a lull in the border warfares will permit. Philip the Arab, for example, makes Rome his headquarters; and by an odd freak of fortune it is this man of alien blood who is on the throne when Rome comes, in the year 248, to her one thousandth anniversary: it is he who conducts the magnificent secular games that mark the millennium.

There are rulers too, like Aurelian, who take an interest in the more intimate economical affairs of the empire, and who strenuously apply their energies to a reform of the currency, the debasement of which is one of the most significant features of the time. Aurelian fixes an honest value for the gold and silver coins, takes from the senate and from all cities but Alexandria the right of coinage, striving thus to fix more firmly the position of the seat of empire as the financial centre, and to give stability to the economic system. But his best efforts lead to mutiny in the present, and fall far short of hoped-for results in the future. Moreover, even an Aurelian, whatever his regard for Rome, finds his time chiefly occupied with the warlike affairs of the outlying provinces. He must dash from Syria to Egypt, from Egypt to Gaul; one revolt is not put down before another begins. And in this day it is no easy matter to transport an army from one part of the bulky empire to another.

Then again, there are emperors who scorn the capital; Maximin, for example, who for a time transfers the seat of empire to distant Pannonia. It is a strange spectacle when Italian citizens are brought from their residences in Rome to have punishment-punishment, be it understood, not justice-meted out to them in a province on the Danube. Few other emperors go quite to such extremes as this; but more and more as time goes on we feel that the interests of the empire are everywhere except in Rome.

[235-285 A.D.] After the time of Claudius, who occupies the throne just as the empire is rounding out its third century, it is almost a foregone conclusion that Illyricum will supply the empire with its rulers. The significance of this fact is at once evident, if we recall that Illyricum is that territory north of Greece including Macedonia, Thrace, and Mosia, which a future emperor will fix on as the seat of New Rome - Constantinople.

The decentralisation of the empire, of which these are significant marks, is still more strikingly manifested in the ever increasing number of rival claimants to the purple. Again and again it happens that the soldiers in different portions of the empire raise different chiefs to nominal imperial power. At one time, while Gallienus is the legitimate holder of the title, there are spurious emperors in Illyricum, Gaul, Greece, Egypt,-everywhere. The time comes to be known as the epoch of the Thirty Tyrants. Doubtless there were not thirty of these rival emperors; but there may have been fifteen or twenty-just how many no one knows or need greatly care to know.

And while internal dissensions are thus weakening the empire, an even greater danger threatens it from without. The peoples whom we have come to speak of rather loosely as barbarian hordes-Franks, Alamanni, Goths— are piercing through the cordon of steel which is the sole safeguard of the empire. The Persians contest the eastern border. They capture a Roman emperor, Valerian, and carry him off to ignominious servitude. The Goths sweep down to the Bosporus, invade Asia Minor, and coast along the shores of Greece. The Alamanni invade Italy, and come almost to Rome itself. For the time being these hordes are repelled. A pest from Egypt carries off the Goths by thousands and renders their motley array of warriors powerless. The arms of Aurelian drive back the Alamanni. For the moment the imperial seat is secure. But so dreadful appears this new threat of the old northern enemies that now, just at the close of the third century of empire, a wall is built about the imperial city. A few generations back that far-outlying wall of steel was all-sufficient; now a narrow circle of stone must safeguard the capital, as in the days of long ago, when Rome had not yet conquered Italy.

This fact alone sufficiently characterises the time. When the proud city, whose subject territories are bounded by the Euphrates and the Atlantic, acknowledges the fear of an enemy at her very portals, the beginning of the end is at hand. The Roman Empire at the close of its third century is no longer dreaming of more distant conquests; it is struggling for life itself. Some salient features of this struggle will now claim our attention.a

MAXIMIN (C. JULIUS VERUS MAXIMINUS), 235–238 a.d.

Maximin was originally a Thracian peasant, of enormous size and strength; his stature, we are told, "exceeded eight feet; his wife's bracelet made him a thumb-ring; he could draw a loaded wagon, break a horse's leg with a kick, and crumble sandstones in his hands"; he often, it is added, "ate forty pounds of meat in the day, and washed them down with seven gallons of wine." Hence he was named Hercules, Antæus, and Milo of Croton. He became known to the emperor Severus on the occasion of his celebrating the birthday of his son Geta one time in Thrace. The young barbarian approached him, and in broken Latin craved permission to wrestle with some of the strongest of the camp followers; he vanquished sixteen of them, and received