Notes on the New Testament, Explanatory and Practical: Revelation
i. 317, 318); and who, on the abdication of Diocletian, assumed the
title of Augustus (_Decline and Fall_, i. 222). Of his administration in general Mr. Gibbon (i. 226) remarks: “About that time the avarice of Galerius, or perhaps the exigencies of the state, had induced him to make a very strict and rigorous inquisition into the property of his subjects for the purpose of a general taxation, both on their lands and on their persons. A very minute survey appears to have been taken of their real estates; and wherever there was the slightest suspicion of concealment, torture was very freely employed to obtain a sincere declaration of their personal wealth.” Of the nature of this exaction under Galerius; of the cruelty with which the measure was prosecuted――particularly in its bearing on Christians, towards whom Galerius cherished a mortal enmity (_Decline and Fall_, i. 317); and of the extent and severity of the suffering among Christians and others, caused by it――the following account of Lactantius (_De Mort. Persecut._, c. 23) will furnish a painful but most appropriate illustration:――“Swarms of exactors sent into the provinces and cities filled them with agitation and terror, as though a conquering enemy were leading them into captivity. The fields were separately measured, the trees and vines, the flocks and herds numbered, and an examination made of the men. In the cities the cultivated and rude were united as of the same rank. The streets were crowded with groups of families, and every one required to appear with his children and slaves. Tortures and lashes resounded on every side. Sons were gibbeted in the presence of their parents, and the most confidential servants harassed that they might make disclosures against their masters, and wives that they might testify unfavourably of their husbands. If there were a total destitution of property, they were still tortured to make acknowledgments against themselves, and, when overcome by pain, inscribed for what they did not possess. Neither age nor ill-health was admitted as an excuse for not appearing. The sick and weak were borne to the place of inscription, a reckoning made of the age of each, and years added to the young and deducted from the old, in order to subject them to a higher taxation than the law imposed. The whole scene was filled with wailing and sadness. In the meantime individuals died, and the herds and the flocks diminished, yet tribute was none the less required to be paid for the dead, so that it was no longer allowed either to live or die without a tax. Mendicants alone escaped, where nothing could be wrenched, and whom misfortune and misery had made incapable of farther oppression. These the impious wretch affecting to pity, that they might not suffer want, ordered to be assembled, borne off in vessels, and plunged into the sea.” See Lord on the Apoc., pp. 128, 129. These facts in regard to the severity of taxation, and the rigid nature of the law enforcing it; to the sources of the révenue exacted in the provinces, and to the care that none {154} of those sources should be diminished; and to the actual and undoubted bearing of all this on the decline and fall of the empire, are so strikingly applicable to the symbol here employed, that if it be supposed that it was _intended_ to refer to them, no more natural or expressive symbol could have been used; if it were supposed that the historian _meant_ to make a record of the fulfilment, he could not well have made a search which would more strikingly accord with the symbol. Were we _now_ to represent these things by a symbol, we could scarcely find one that would be more expressive than that of a rider on a black horse with a pair of scales, sent forth under a proclamation which indicated that there would be a most rigid and exact administration of severe and oppressive laws, and with a special command, addressed to the people, not for the purposes of concealment, or from opposition to the government, to injure the sources of revenue. It may serve further to illustrate this, to copy one of the usual emblems of a Roman procurator or questor. It is taken from Spanheim, _De Usu Num. Diss._, vi. 545. See Elliott, i. 169. It has a balance as a symbol of exactness or justice, and an ear of grain as a symbol employed with reference to procuring or exacting grain from the provinces.
Illustration: Emblem of a Roman Procurator.
7 And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see.
7. _And when he had opened the fourth seal._ See Notes, ch. v. 1. ¶ _I heard the voice of the fourth beast say._ The flying eagle. Notes, ch. iv. 7. As in the other cases, there does not appear to have been any particular reason why the _fourth_ of the living creatures should have made this proclamation rather than either of the others. It was poetic and appropriate to represent each one in his turn as making proclamation. ¶ _Come and see._ See Notes, ver. 1.
8 And I looked, and behold a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given [219]unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill [220]with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.
8. _And I looked, and behold a pale horse_――ἵππος χλωρὸς. On the _horse_, as an emblem, see Notes on ver. 2. The _peculiarity_ of this emblem consists in the _colour_ of the horse, the rider, and the power that was given unto him. In these there is entire harmony, and there can be comparatively little difficulty in the explanation and application. The _colour_ of the horse was _pale_――χλωρὸς. This word properly means _pale-green_, _yellowish-green_, like the colour of the first shoots of grass and herbage; then _green_, _verdant_, like young herbage, Mar. vi. 39; Re. viii. 7; ix. 4; and then _pale yellowish_ (Rob. _Lex._). The colour here would be an appropriate one to denote the reign of death――as one of the most striking effects of death is _paleness_――and, of course, of death produced by any cause, famine, pestilence, or the sword. From this portion of the symbol, if it stood with nothing to limit and define it, we should naturally look for some condition of things in which death would prevail in a remarkable manner, or in which multitudes of human beings would be swept away. And yet, perhaps, from the very nature of _this_ part of the symbol, we should look for the prevalence of death in some such peaceful manner as by famine or disease. The _red_ colour would more naturally denote the ravages of death in war; the black, the ravages of death by sudden calamity; the pale would more obviously suggest famine or wasting disease. ¶ _And his name that sat on him was Death._ No description is given of his aspect; nor does he appear with any emblem――as sword, or spear, {155} or bow. There is evident scope for the fancy to picture to itself the form of the destroyer; and there is just that kind of obscurity about it which contributes to sublimity. Accordingly, there has been ample room for the exercise of the imagination in the attempts to paint “Death on the pale horse,” and the opening of this seal has furnished occasion for some of the greatest triumphs of the pencil. The simple _idea_ in this portion of the symbol is, that death would reign or prevail under the opening of this seal――whether by sword, by famine, or by pestilence, is to be determined by other descriptions in the symbol. ¶ _And Hell followed with him._ Attended him as he went forth. On the meaning of the word here rendered _hell_――ᾅδης, _hades_――see Notes on Lu. xvi. 23, comp. Notes on Job x. 21, 22; Is. xiv. 9. It is here used to denote the abode of the dead, considered as a place where they dwell, and not in the more restricted sense in which the word is now commonly used as a place of punishment. The idea is, that the dead would be so numerous at the going forth of this horseman, that it would seem as if the pale nations of the dead had come again upon the earth. A vast retinue of the dead would accompany him; that is, it would be a time when death would prevail on the earth, or when multitudes would die. ¶ _And power was given unto them._ Marg., _to him_. The common Greek text is αὐτοῖς――_to them_. There are many MSS., however, which read αὐτῷ――_to him_. So Professor Stuart reads it. The authority, however, is in favour of _them_ as the reading; and according to this, death and his train are regarded as grouped together, and the power is considered as given to them collectively. The sense is not materially varied. ¶ _Over the fourth part of the earth._ That is, of the Roman world. It is not absolutely necessary to understand this as extending over _precisely_ a fourth part of the world. Comp. Re. viii. 7‒10, 12; ix. 15, _et al._ Undoubtedly we are to look in the fulfilment of this to some far-spread calamity; to some severe visitations which would sweep off great multitudes of men. The _nature_ of that visitation is designated in the following specifications. ¶ _To kill with sword_. In war and discord――and we are, therefore, to look to a period of war. ¶ _And with hunger._ With famine――one of the accompaniments of war――where armies ravage a nation, trampling down the crops of grain; consuming the provisions laid up; employing in war, or cutting off, the men who would be occupied in cultivating the ground; making it necessary that they should take the field at a time when the grain should be sown or the harvest collected; and shutting up the people in besieged cities to perish by hunger. Famine has been not an unfrequent accompaniment of war; and we are to look for the fulfilment of this in its extensive prevalence. ¶ _And with death._ Each of the other forms――“with the sword and with hunger”――imply that _death_ would reign; for it is said that “power was given to _kill_ with sword and with hunger.” This word, then, must refer to death in some other form――to death that seemed to reign without any such _visible_ cause as the “sword” and “hunger.” This would well denote the pestilence――not an unfrequent accompaniment of war. For nothing is better fitted to produce this than the unburied bodies of the slain; the filth of a camp; the want of food; and the crowding together of multitudes in a besieged city; and, accordingly, the pestilence, especially in Oriental countries, has been often closely connected with war. That the _pestilence_ is referred to here is rendered more certain by the fact that the Hebrew word דֶּבֶר, _pestilence_, which occurs about fifty times in the Old Testament, is rendered θάνατος, _death_, more than thirty times in the Septuagint. ¶ _And with the beasts of the earth_. With wild beasts. This, too, would be one of the consequences of war, famine, and pestilence. Lands would be depopulated, and wild beasts would be multiplied. Nothing more is necessary to make them formidable than a prevalence of these things; and nothing, in the early stages of society, or in countries ravaged by war, famine, and the pestilence, is more formidable. Homer, at the very beginning of his _Iliad_, presents us with a representation similar to this. Comp. Eze. xiv. 21: “I send my four sore judgments upon Jerusalem, the sword, and the famine, and the noisome beast, and the pestilence,” דֶבֶר――Sept., as here, θάνατον. See also 2 Ki. xvii. 26.
In regard to the fulfilment of this there can be little difficulty, if the principles adopted in the interpretation of the first three seals are correct. We {156} may turn to Gibbon, and, as in the other cases, we shall find that he has been an unconscious witness of the fidelity of the representation in this seal. Two _general_ remarks may be made before there is an attempt to illustrate the particular things in the symbol. (a) The first relates to _the place_ in the order of time, or in history, which this seal occupies. If the three former seals have been located with any degree of accuracy, we should expect that this would follow, not very remotely, the severe laws pertaining to taxation, which, according to Mr. Gibbon, contributed so essentially to the downfall of the empire. And if it be admitted to be probable that the fifth seal refers to a time of persecution, it would be most natural to fix this period between those times and the times of Diocletian, when the persecution ceased. I may be permitted to say, that I was led to fix on this period without having any definite view beforehand of what occurred _in_ it, and was surprised to find in Mr. Gibbon what _seems_ to be so accurate a correspondence with the symbol. (b) The second remark is, that the _general_ characteristics of this period, as stated by Mr. Gibbon, agree remarkably with what we should expect of the period from the symbol. Thus speaking of this whole period (A.D. 248‒268), embracing the reigns of Decius, Gallus, Æmilianus, Valerian, and Gallienus, he says, “From the great secular games celebrated by Philip to the death of the emperor Gallienus, there elapsed twenty years of shame and misfortune. During this calamitous period every instant of time was marked, every province of the Roman world was afflicted by barbarous invaders and military tyrants, and the ruined empire seemed to approach the last and fatal moment of its dissolution,” i. 135.
In regard to the _particular_ things referred to in the symbol, the following specifications may furnish a sufficient confirmation and illustration: (a) The killing with the sword. A fulfilment of this, so far as the _words_ are concerned, might be found indeed in many portions of Roman history, but no one can doubt that it was eminently true of this period. It was the period of the _first_ Gothic invasion of the Roman empire; the period when those vast hordes, having gradually come down from the regions of Scandinavia, and having moved along the Danube towards the Ukraine and the countries bordering on the Borysthenes, invaded the Roman territories from the East, passed over Greece, and made their appearance almost, as Mr. Gibbon says, within sight of Rome. Of this invasion Mr. Gibbon says, “This is the first considerable occasion [the fact that the emperor Decius was summoned to the banks of the Danube, A.D. 250, by the invasion of the Goths] in which history mentions that great people, who afterwards broke the Roman power, sacked the Capitol, and reigned in Gaul, Spain, and Italy. So memorable was the part which they acted in the subversion of the Western empire, that the name of GOTHS is frequently, but improperly, used as a general appellation of rude and warlike barbarism,” i. p. 136. As one of the illustrations that the “sword” would be used by “Death” in this period, we may refer to the siege and capture of Philippolis. “A hundred thousand persons are reported to have been massacred in the sack of that great city” (_Dec. and Fall_, i. 140). “The whole period,” says Mr. Gibbon, speaking of the reigns of Valerian and Gallienus, “was one uninterrupted series of confusion and calamity. The Roman empire was, at the same time, and on every side, attacked by the blind fury of foreign invaders, and the wild ambition of domestic usurpers,” i. 144. “Such were the barbarians,” says Mr. Gibbon in the close of his description of the Goths at this period, and of the tyrants that reigned, “and such the tyrants, who, under the reigns of Valerian and Gallienus, dismembered the provinces, and reduced the empire to the lowest pitch of disgrace and ruin, from whence it seemed impossible that it should ever emerge,” i. 158. (b) Famine: “Shall kill with hunger.” This would naturally be the consequence of long-continued wars, and of such invasions as those of the Goths. Mr. Gibbon says of this period: “Our habits of thinking so fondly connect the order of the universe with the fate of man, that this gloomy period of history has been decorated with inundations, earthquakes, uncommon meteors, preternatural darkness, and a crowd of prodigies, fictitious or exaggerated. But _a long and general famine_ was a calamity of a more serious kind. It was the inevitable consequence of rapine and oppression, which extirpated the produce of the present, and the hope of future harvests,” i. p. 159. Prodigies, and preternatural {157} darkness, and earthquakes, were _not_ seen in the vision of the opening of the _seal_――but _war_ and _famine_ were; and the facts stated by Mr. Gibbon are such as would be now appropriately symbolized by Death on the pale horse. (c) Pestilence: “And shall kill with death.” Of the pestilence which raged in this period Mr. Gibbon makes the following remarkable statement, in immediate connection with what he says of the famine:――“Famine is almost always followed by epidemical diseases, the effect of scanty and unwholesome food. Other causes must, however, have contributed to the furious plague, which, from the year 250 to the year 265, _raged without interruption in every province, every city, and almost every family of the Roman empire_. During some time five thousand persons died daily at Rome; and many towns that had escaped the hands of the barbarians were entirely depopulated,” i. 159. (d) Wild beasts: “And shall kill with the beasts of the earth.” As already remarked, these are formidable enemies in the early stages of society, and when a country becomes, from any cause, depopulated. They are not mentioned by Mr. Gibbon as contributing to the decline and fall of the empire, or as connected with the calamities that came upon the world at that period. But no one can doubt that in such circumstances they would be likely to abound, especially if the estimate of Mr. Gibbon be correct (i. 159), when speaking of these times, and making an estimate of the proportion of the inhabitants of Alexandria that had perished――which he says was more than one-half――he adds, “Could we venture to extend the analogy to the other provinces, we might suspect that _war_, _pestilence_, and _famine_ had consumed in a few years the moiety of the human species.” Yet, though not adverted to by Mr. Gibbon, there _is_ a record pertaining to this very period, which shows that this was one of the calamities with which the world was then afflicted. It occurs in Arnobius, _Adv. Gentes_, lib. i. p. 5. Within a few years after the death of Gallienus (about A.D. 300) he speaks of wild beasts in such a manner as to show that they were regarded as a sore calamity. The public peril and suffering on this account were so great, that in common with other evils this was charged on Christians as one of the judgments of heaven which they brought upon the world. In defending Christians against the general charge that these judgments were sent from heaven on their account, he adverts to the prevalence of wild beasts, and shows that they could not have been sent as a judgment on account of the existence of Christianity, by the fact that they had prevailed also in the times of heathenism, long before Christianity was introduced into the empire. “Quando cum feris bella, et proelia cum leonibus gesta sunt? Non ante nos? Quando pernicies populis venenatis ab anguibus data est? Non ante nos?” “When were wars waged with wild beasts, and contests with lions? Was it not before our times? When did a plague come upon men poisoned by serpents? Was it not before our times?” In regard to the _extent_ of the destruction which these causes would bring upon the world, there is a remarkable confirmation in Gibbon. To say, as is said in the account of the seal, that “a _fourth_ part of the earth” would be subjected to the reign of death by the sword, by famine, by pestilence, and by wild beasts, may seem to many to be an improbable statement――a statement for the fulfilment of which we should look in vain to any historical records. Yet Mr. Gibbon, without expressly mentioning the plague of wild beasts, but referring to the three others――“war, pestilence, and famine”――goes into a calculation, in a passage already referred to, by which he shows that it is probable that from these causes _half_ the human race was destroyed. The following is his estimate:――“We have the knowledge of a very curious circumstance, of some use perhaps in the melancholy calculation of human calamities. An exact register was kept at Alexandria of all the citizens entitled to receive the distribution of corn. It was found that the ancient number of those comprised between the ages of forty and seventy had been equal to the whole sum of claimants, from fourteen to fourscore years of age, who remained alive after the reign of Gallienus. Applying this authentic fact to the most correct tables of mortality, it evidently proves that above half the people of Alexandria had perished; and could we venture to extend the analogy to the other provinces, _we might suspect that war, pestilence, and famine had consumed in a few years the moiety of the human species_, ” i. 159. The historian says that it might be “_suspected_ ” from these data that one-half of the {158} human race had been cut off in a few years, from these causes; in the Apocalyptic vision it is said that power was given over one “_fourth_” of the earth. We may remark, (a) that the description in the symbol is as _likely_ to be correct as the “suspicion” of the historian; and (b) that his statement that in this period “a moiety of the race,” or one-half of the race, perished, takes away all improbability from the prediction, and gives a most graphic confirmation of the symbol of _Death on the pale horse_. If such a desolation in fact occurred, there is no improbability in the supposition that it might have been prefigured by the opening of a prophetic seal. Such a wide-spread desolation would be _likely_ to be referred to in a series of symbols that were designed to represent the downfall of the Roman power, and the great changes in human affairs that would affect the welfare of the church.
9 And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the [221]altar the [222]souls of them that were slain for [223]the word of God, and for the testimony which they held:
10 And they cried with a loud voice, saying, [224]How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and [225]avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?
11 And [226]white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should [227]rest yet for a little season, until[228] their fellow-servants also and their brethren, that should be killed as they _were_, should be fulfilled.
9‒11. _And when he had opened the fifth seal._ Notes, ch. v. 1; vi. 1. ¶ _I saw under the altar._ The four living creatures are no longer heard as in the opening of the first four seals. No reason is given for the change in the manner of the representation; and none can be assigned, unless it be, that having represented each one of the four living creatures in their turn as calling attention to the remarkable events about to occur, there seemed to be no necessity or propriety in introducing them again. In itself considered, it cannot be supposed that they would be any less interested in the events about to be disclosed than they were in those which preceded. This seal pertains to _martyrs_――as the former successively did to a time of prosperity and triumph; to discord and bloodshed; to oppressive taxation; to war, famine, and pestilence. In the series of woes, it was natural and proper that there should be a vision of martyrs, if it was intended that the successive seals should refer to coming and important periods of the world; and accordingly we have here a striking representation of the martyrs crying to God to interpose in their behalf and to avenge their blood. The points which require elucidation are: (a) their position――under the altar; (b) their invocation――or their prayer that they might be avenged; (c) the clothing of them with robes; and (d) the command to wait patiently a little time. (1) The position of the martyrs――_under the altar_. There were in the temple at Jerusalem two altars――the altar of burnt sacrifices, and the altar of incense. The altar here referred to was probably the former. This stood in front of the temple, and it was on this that the daily sacrifice was made. Comp. Notes on Mat. v. 23, 24. We are to remember, however, that the temple and the altar were both destroyed before the time when this book was written, and this should, therefore, be regarded merely as a vision. John saw these souls _as if_ they were collected under the altar――the place where the sacrifice for sin was made――offering their supplications. _Why_ they are represented as being there is not so apparent; but probably two suggestions will explain this: (a) The altar was the place where sin was expiated, and it was natural to represent these redeemed martyrs as seeking refuge there; and (b) it was usual to offer prayers and supplications _at_ the altar, in connection with the sacrifice made for sin, and on the ground of that sacrifice. The idea is, that they who were suffering persecution would naturally seek a refuge in the place where expiation was made for sin, and where prayer was appropriately offered. The _language_ here is such as a Hebrew would naturally use; the _idea_ is appropriate to anyone who believes in the atonement, and who supposes that that is the appropriate refuge for those who are in trouble. But while the language here is such as a Hebrew would use, and while the reference in the language is to the altar of burnt sacrifice, the scene should be regarded as undoubtedly laid in heaven――the temple where God resides. The whole representation is that of fleeing to the atonement, and pleading with {159} God in connection with the sacrifice for sin. ¶ _The souls of them that were slain._ That had been put to death by persecution. This is one of the incidental proofs in the Bible that the soul does not cease to exist at death, and also that it does not cease to be conscious, or does not sleep till the resurrection. These souls of the martyrs are represented as still in existence; as remembering what had occurred on the earth; as interested in what was now taking place; as engaged in prayer; and as manifesting earnest desires for the divine interposition to avenge the wrongs which they had suffered. ¶ _For the word of God._ On account of the word or truth of God. See Notes on ch. i. 9. ¶ _And for the testimony which they held._ On account of their testimony to the truth, or being faithful witnesses of the truth of Jesus Christ. See Notes on ch. i. 9. (2) The invocation of the martyrs, ver. 10: _And they cried with a loud voice._ That is, they pleaded that their blood might be avenged. ¶ _Saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true._ They did not doubt that God _would_ avenge them, but they inquired _how long_ the vengeance would be delayed. It seemed to them that God was slow to interpose, and to check the persecuting power. They appeal therefore to him as a God of holiness and truth; that is, as one who could not look with approval on sin, and in whose sight the wrongs inflicted by the persecuting power must be infinitely offensive; as one who was true to his promises, and faithful to his people. On the ground of his own hatred of wrong, and of his plighted faithfulness to his church, they pleaded that he would interpose. ¶ _Dost thou not judge and avenge our blood._ That is, dost thou _forbear_ to judge and avenge us; or dost thou delay to punish those who have persecuted and slain us. They do not speak as if they had any doubt that it would be done, nor as if they were actuated by a spirit of _revenge_; but as if it would be _proper_ that there should be an expression of the divine sense of the wrongs that had been done them. It is not right to desire vengeance or revenge; it is to desire that justice should be done, and that the government of God should be vindicated. The word “_judge_” here may either mean “judge _us_,” in the sense of “vindicate _us_,” or it may refer to their persecutors, meaning “judge _them_.” The more probable sense is the latter: “How long dost thou forbear to execute judgment on our account on those that dwell on the earth?” The word _avenge_――ἐκδικέω――means to do justice; to execute punishment. ¶ _On them that dwell on the earth._ Those who are still on the earth. This shows that the scene here is laid in heaven, and that the souls of the martyrs are represented as there. We are not to suppose that this _literally_ occurred, and that John actually saw the souls of the martyrs beneath the altars――for the whole representation is symbolical; nor are we to suppose that the injured and the wronged in heaven actually pray for vengeance on those who wronged them, or that the redeemed in heaven will continue to pray with reference to things on the earth; but it may be fairly inferred from this that there will be _as real_ a remembrance of the wrongs of the persecuted, the injured, and the oppressed, _as if_ such prayer were offered there; and that the oppressor has as much to dread from the divine vengeance _as if_ those whom he has injured should cry in heaven to the God who hears prayer, and who takes vengeance. The wrongs done to the children of God; to the orphan, the widow, the down-trodden; to the slave and the outcast, will be as certainly remembered in heaven as if they who are wronged should plead for vengeance there, for every act of injustice and oppression goes to heaven and pleads for vengeance. Every persecutor should dread the death of the persecuted _as if_ he went to heaven to plead against him; every cruel master should dread the death of his slave that is crushed by wrongs; every seducer should dread the death and the cries of his victim; every one who does wrong in any way should remember that the sufferings of the injured cry to heaven with a martyr’s pleadings, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood?” (3) The robes that were given to the martyrs: _And white {160} robes were given unto every one of them._ Emblems of purity or innocence. See Notes on ch. iii. 5. Here the robes would be an emblem of their innocence as martyrs; of the divine approval of their testimony and lives, and a pledge of their future blessedness. (4) The command to wait: _And it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season._ That is, that they must wait for a little season before they could be avenged as they desired, ver. 10. They had pleaded that their cause might be at once vindicated, and had asked how long it would be before it should be done. The reply is, that the desired vindication would not at once occur, but that they must wait until other events were accomplished. Nothing definite is determined by the phrase “a little season,” or a short time. It is simply an intimation that this would not _immediately_ occur, or was not soon to take place. Whether it refers to an existing persecution, and to the fact that they were to wait for the divine interposition until that was over, and those who were then suffering persecution should be put to death and join them; or whether to a series of persecutions stretching along in the history of the world, in such a sense that the promised vengeance would take place only when all those persecutions were passed, and the number of the martyrs completed, cannot be determined from the meaning of their words. Either of these suppositions would accord well with what the language naturally expresses. ¶ _Until their fellow-servants also._ Those who were then suffering persecution, or those who should afterwards suffer persecution, grouping all together. ¶ _And their brethren._ Their brethren as Christians, and their brethren in trial: those then living, or those who would live afterwards and pass through similar scenes. ¶ _Should be fulfilled._ That is, till these persecutions were passed through, and the number of the martyrs was complete. The state of things represented here would seem to be, that there was then a persecution raging on the earth. Many had been put to death, and their souls had fled to heaven, where they pleaded that their cause might be vindicated, and that their oppressors and persecutors might be punished. To this the answer was, that _they_ were now safe and happy――that God approved their course, and that in token of his approbation they should be clothed in white raiment; but that the invoked vindication could not at once occur. There were others who would yet be called to suffer as they had done, and they must wait until all that number was completed. _Then_, it is implied, God would interpose, and vindicate his name. The scene, therefore, is laid in a time of persecution, when many had already died, and when there were many more that were exposed to death; and a sufficient fulfilment of the passage, so far as the _words_ are concerned, would be found in _any_ persecution, where many might be represented as having already gone to heaven, and where there was a certainty that many more would follow. We naturally, however, look for the fulfilment of it in some period succeeding those designated by the preceding symbols. There would be no difficulty, in the early history of the church, in finding events that would correspond with all that is represented by the symbol; but it is natural to look for it in a period succeeding that represented, under the fourth seal, by Death on the pale horse. If the previous seals have been correctly interpreted we shall not be much in danger of erring in supposing that this refers to the persecution under Diocletian; and perhaps we may find in one who never intended to write a word that could be construed as furnishing a proof of the fulfilment of the prophecies of the New Testament, what should be regarded as a complete verification of all that is represented here. The following particulars may justify this application: (a) The _place_ of that persecution in history, or the time when it occurred. As already remarked, if the previous seals have been rightly explained, and the fourth seal denotes the wars, the famine, and the pestilence, under the invasion of the Goths, and in the time of Valerian and Gallienus, then the last great persecution of the church under Diocletian would well accord with the period in history referred to. Valerian died in A.D. 260, being flayed alive by Sapor, king of Persia; Gallienus died in A.D. 268, being killed at Milan. Diocletian ascended the throne A.D. 284, and resigned the purple A.D. 304. It was during this period, and chiefly at the instigation of Galerius, that the tenth persecution of the Christians occurred――the last under the Roman power; for in A.D. 306 Constantine ascended the throne, and ultimately became {161} the protector of the church. (b) The _magnitude_ of this persecution under Diocletian is as consonant to the representation here as its place in history. So important was it, that, in a general chapter on the persecutions of the Christians, Mr. Gibbon has seen fit, in his remarks on the nature, causes, extent, and character of the persecutions, to give a prominence to this which he has not assigned to any others, and to attach an importance to it which he has not to any other. See vol. i. pp. 317‒322. The _design_ of this persecution, as Mr. Gibbon expresses it (i. 318), was “to set bounds to the progress of Christianity;” or, as he elsewhere expresses it (on the same page), “the destruction of Christianity.” Diocletian, himself naturally averse from persecution, was excited to this by Galerius, who urged upon the emperor every argument by which he could persuade him to engage in it. Mr. Gibbon says in regard to this, “Galerius at length extorted from him [Diocletian] the permission of summoning a council, composed of a few persons, the most distinguished in the civil and military departments of the state. It may be presumed that they insisted on every topic which might interest the pride, the piety, the fears of their sovereign _in the destruction of Christianity_,” i. 318. The _purpose_ evidently in the persecution, was, to make a last and desperate effort, through the whole Roman empire, for the destruction of the Christian religion; for Mr. Gibbon (i. 320) says that “the edict against the Christians was designed for a general law _of the whole empire_.” Other efforts had failed. The religion still spread, notwithstanding the rage and fury of nine previous persecutions. It was resolved to make one more effort. This was designed by the persecutors to be the last, in the hope that then the Christian name would cease to be: in the providence of God it _was_ the last――for then even these opposing powers became convinced that the religion could not be destroyed in this manner――and as this persecution was to establish this fact, it was an event of sufficient magnitude to be symbolized by the opening of one of the seals. (c) The _severity_ of this persecution accorded with the description here, and was such as to deserve a place in the series of important events which were to occur in the world. We have seen above, from the statement of Mr. Gibbon, that it was designed for the “whole empire,” and it in fact raged with fury throughout the empire. After detailing some of the events of local persecutions under Diocletian, Mr. Gibbon says, “The resentment or the fears of Diocletian at length transported him beyond the bounds of moderation, which he had hitherto preserved, and he declared, in a series of edicts, his intention of abolishing the Christian name. By the first of these edicts the governors of the provinces were directed to apprehend all persons of the ecclesiastical order; and the prisons destined for the vilest criminals were soon filled with a multitude of bishops, presbyters, deacons, and exorcists. By a second edict the magistrates were commanded to employ every method of severity which might reclaim them from their odious superstition, and oblige them to return to the established worship of the gods. This rigorous order was extended, by a subsequent edict, to the whole body of Christians, who were exposed to a violent and general persecution. Instead of those salutary restraints which had required the direct and solemn testimony of an accuser, it became the duty as well as the interest of the imperial officers to discover, to pursue, and to torment the most obnoxious among the faithful. Heavy penalties were denounced against all who should presume to save a proscribed sectary from the just indignation of the gods, and of the emperors,” i. 322. The first decree against the Christians, at the instigation of Galerius, will show the general nature of this fiery trial of the church. That decree was to the following effect: “All assembling of the Christians for the purposes of religious worship was forbidden; the Christian churches were to be demolished to their foundations; all manuscripts of the Bible should be burned; those who held places of honour or rank must either renounce their faith or be degraded; in judicial proceedings the torture might be used against all Christians, of whatever rank; those belonging to the lower walks of private life were to be divested of their rights as citizens and as freemen; Christian slaves were to be incapable of receiving their freedom, so long as they remained Christians” (Neander, _Hist. of the Church_, Torrey’s Trans. i. 148). This persecution was the last against the Christians by the Roman emperors; the {162} last that was waged by that mighty Pagan power. Diocletian soon resigned the purple, and after the persecution had continued to rage, with more or less severity, under his successors, for ten years, the peace of the church was established. “Diocletian,” says Mr. Gibbon (i. 322), “had no sooner published his edicts against the Christians, than, as if he had been committing to other hands his work of persecution, he divested himself of the imperial purple. The character and situation of his colleagues and successors sometimes urged them to enforce, and sometimes to suspend, the execution of these rigorous laws; nor can we acquire a just and distinct idea of this important period of ecclesiastical history, unless we separately consider the state of Christianity in the different parts of the empire, during the space of ten years which elapsed between the first edicts of Diocletian _and the final peace of the church_.” For this detail consult Gibbon, i. 322‒329, and the authorities there referred to; and Neander, _Hist. of the Church_, i. 147‒156. Respecting the details of the persecution, Mr. Gibbon remarks (i. 326), “It would have been an easy task, from the history of Eusebius, from the declamations of Lactantius, and from the most ancient acts, to collect a long series of horrid and disgustful pictures, and to fill many pages with racks and scourges, with iron-hooks, and red-hot beds, and with the variety of tortures which fire and steel, savage beasts, and more savage executioners, could inflict on the human body.” It is true that Mr. Gibbon professes to doubt the truth of these records, and attempts to show that the account of the number of the martyrs has been greatly exaggerated; yet no one, in reading his own account of this persecution, can doubt that it was the result of a determined effort to blot out the Christian religion, and that the whole of the imperial power was exerted to accomplish this end. At length the last of the imperial persecutions ceased, and the great truth was demonstrated that Christianity could not be extinguished by power, and that “the gates of hell could not prevail against it.” “In the year 311,” says Neander (i. 156), “the remarkable edict appeared which put an end to the last sanguinary conflict of the Christian church and the Roman empire.” This decree was issued by the author and instigator of the persecution, Galerius, who, “softened by a severe and painful disease, the consequence of his excesses, had been led to think that the God of the Christians might, after all, be a powerful being, whose anger punished him, and whose favour he must endeavour to conciliate.” This man suspended the persecution, and gave the Christians permission “once more to hold their assemblies, provided they did nothing contrary to the good order of the Roman state.” “Ita ut ne quid contra disciplinam agant” (Neander, _ibid._).
12 And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great [229]earthquake; and the sun[230] became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood;
13 And the [231]stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her [232]untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind.
14 And the [233]heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together; and [234]every mountain and island were moved out of their places.
15 And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every freeman, [235]hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains;
16 And [236]said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb:
17 For the [237]great day of his wrath is come; and [238]who shall be able to stand?
12‒17. _And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal._ See Notes, ch. v. 1; vi. 1. ¶ _And, lo, there was a great earthquake._ Before endeavouring to ascertain to what the sixth seal was designed to refer, it is proper, as in the previous cases, to furnish a particular explanation of the meaning of the symbols. All the symbols represented in the opening of this seal denote consternation, commotion, changes; but still they are all significant, and we are to suppose that something would occur corresponding with each one of them. It cannot be supposed that the things here described were represented on the part of the roll or volume that was now unfolded in any other way than that they were pictures, or that the whole was a species of panoramic representation made to pass before the eyes. Thus understood, it would not be difficult to represent each one of these things in a painting: as the heaving ground――the agitated forests――the trembling hills――the falling cities and houses――the sun blackened, and the moon turned to blood.
(a) The earthquake, ver. 12: _There was a great earthquake._ The word here used denotes a shaking or agitation of the earth. The effect, when violent, is to produce important changes――opening chasms in the earth; throwing down houses and temples; sinking hills, and elevating plains; causing ponds and lakes to dry up, or forming them where none existed; elevating the ocean from its bed, rending rocks, &c. As all that occurs in the opening of the other seals is symbolical, it is to be presumed that this is also, and that for the fulfilment {163} of this we are not to look for a literal earthquake, but for such agitations and changes in the world as would be properly symbolized by this. The earthquake, as a symbol, would merely denote great agitations or overturnings on the earth. The particular character of those changes must be determined by other circumstances in the symbol that would limit and explain it. There are, it is said, but three literal earthquakes referred to in the Scripture: that mentioned in 1 Ki. xix. 11; that in Uzziah’s time, Am. i. 1; Zec. xiv. 5; and that which took place at the Saviour’s death. All the rest are emblematical or symbolical――referring mostly to civil commotions and changes. Then in Hag. ii. 6, 7: “Yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land, and I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come; and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts.” That is, there would be great agitations in the world before he came. See Notes on He. xii. 26‒28. So also great changes and commotions are referred to in Is. xxiv. 19, 20: “The earth is utterly broken down, the earth is clean dissolved, the earth is moved exceedingly. The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, and shall be removed like a cottage.” An _earthquake_, if there were no other circumstances limiting and explaining the symbol, would merely denote great agitation and commotion――_as if_ states and empires were tumbling to ruin. As this is here a mere _symbol_, it is not necessary to look for a literal fulfilment, or to expect to find in history actual earthquakes to which this had reference, any more than when it is said that “the heavens departed as a scroll” we are to expect that they will be literally rolled up; but if, in the course of history, earthquakes preceded remarkable political convulsions and revolutions, it would be proper to represent such events in this way.
(b) The darkening of the sun: _And the sun became black as sackcloth of hair._ Sackcloth was a coarse black cloth, commonly, though not always, made of hair. It was used for sacks, for strainers, and for mourning garments; and as thus worn it was not an improper emblem of sadness and distress. The idea here is, that the sun put on a dark, dingy, doleful appearance, _as if_ it were in mourning. The general image, then, in this emblem, is that of calamity――_as if_ the very sun should put on the robes of mourning. We are by no means to suppose that this was _literally_ to occur, but that _some_ great calamity would happen, of which this would be an appropriate emblem. See Notes on Is. xiii. 10; Mat. xxiv. 29. Comp. Is. xxiv. 23; xxxiv. 4; l. 3; lx. 19, 20; Eze. xxxii. 7, 8; Joel ii. 10; iii. 15, 16; Am. viii. 9. What is the particular nature of the calamity is to be learned from other parts of the symbol.
(c) The discoloration of the moon: _And the moon became as blood._ Red like blood――either from the smoke and vapour that usually precedes an earthquake, or as a mere emblem. This also would betoken calamity, and _perhaps_ the symbol may be so far limited and modified by this as to denote _war_, for that would be most naturally suggested by the colour――_red_. Comp. Notes on ver. 4 of this chapter. But _any_ great calamity would be appropriately represented by this――as the change of the moon to such a colour would be a natural emblem of distress.
(d) The falling of the stars, ver. 13: _And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth._ This _language_ is derived from the poetic idea that the sky seems to be a solid concave, in which the stars are _set_, and that when any convulsion takes place, that concave will be shaken, and the stars will be loosened and fall from their places. See this language explained in the Notes on Is. xxxiv. 4. Sometimes the expanse above us is spoken of as a curtain that is spread out, and that may be rolled up; sometimes as a solid crystalline expanse in which the stars are fixed. According to either representation the stars are described as falling to the earth. If the expanse is _rolled up_, the stars, having nothing to support them, fall; if violent tempests or concussions shake the heavens, the stars, loosened from their fixtures, fall to the earth. Stars, in the Scriptures, are symbols of princes and rulers (see Da. viii. 10; Re. viii. 10, 11; ix. 1); and the natural meaning of this symbol is, that there would be commotions which would {164} unsettle princes, and bring them down from their thrones――like stars falling from the sky. ¶ _Even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs._ Marg., _green_; Gr., ὀλύνθους. This word properly denotes _winter-figs_, or such as grow under the leaves, and do not ripen at the proper season, but hang upon the trees during the winter (Rob. _Lex._). This fruit seldom matures, and easily falls off in the spring of the year (Stuart, _in loco_). A violent wind shaking a plantation of fig-trees would of course cast many such figs to the ground. The point of the comparison is, the ease with which the stars would seem to be shaken from their places, and hence the ease with which, in these commotions, princes would be dethroned.
(e) The departing of the heavens, ver. 14: _And the heaven departed as a scroll._ That is, as a book or volume――βιβλίον――rolled up. The heavens are here described as spread out, and their passing away is represented by the idea that they might be rolled up, and thus disappear. See Notes on Is. xxxiv. 4. This, too, is a symbol, and we are not to suppose that it will literally occur. Indeed it never _can_ literally occur; and we are not, therefore, to look for the fulfilment of this in any physical fact that would correspond with what is here said. The plain meaning is, that there would be changes _as if_ such an event would happen; that is, that revolutions would occur in the high places of the earth, and among those in power, _as if_ the stars should fall, and the very heavens were swept away. This is the natural meaning of the symbol, and this accords with the usage of the language elsewhere.
(f) The removal of mountains and islands, ver. 14: _And every mountain and island were moved out of their places._ This would denote convulsions in the political or moral world, as great as would occur in the physical world if the very mountains were removed and the islands should change their places. We are not to suppose that this would literally occur; but we should be authorized from this to expect that, in regard to those things which seemed to be permanent and fixed on an immovable basis, like mountains and islands, there would be violent and important changes. If thrones and dynasties long established were overthrown; if institutions that seemed to be fixed and permanent were abolished; if a new order of things should rise in the political world, the meaning of the symbol, so far as the language is concerned, would be fulfilled.
(g) The universal consternation, ver. 15‒17: _And the kings of the earth_, &c. The design of these verses (15‒17), in the varied language used, is evidently to denote universal consternation and alarm――_as if_ the earth should be convulsed, and the stars should fall, and the heavens should pass away. This consternation would extend to all classes of men, and fill the world with alarm, _as if_ the end of all things were coming. ¶ _The kings of the earth._ Rulers――all who occupied thrones. ¶ _The great men._ High officers of state. ¶ _And the rich men._ Their wealth would not secure them from destruction, and they would be alarmed like others. ¶ _And the chief captains._ The commanders of armies, who tremble like other men when God appears in judgment. ¶ _And the mighty men._ Men of great prowess in battle, but who feel now that they have no power to withstand God. ¶ _And every bondman._ Servant――δοῦλος. This word does not necessarily denote a _slave_ (comp. Notes on Ep. vi. 5; 1 Ti. vi. 1; Phile. 16), but here the connection seems to demand it, for it stands in contrast with _freeman_. There were, in fact, slaves in the Roman empire, and there is no objection in supposing that they are here referred to. There is no reason why they should not be filled with consternation as well as others; and as this does not refer to the end of the world, or the day of judgment, the word here determines nothing as to the question whether slavery is to continue on the earth. ¶ _And every freeman._ Whether the master of slaves or not. The idea is, {165} that all classes of men, high and low, would be filled with alarm. ¶ _Hid themselves in the dens._ Among the caves or caverns in the mountains. See Notes on Is. ii. 19. These places were resorted to for safety in times of danger. Comp. 1 Sa. xiii. 6; xxiv.; Ju. vi. 2; Je. xli. 9; Jos. _Ant._ book xiv. ch. xv.; _Jewish Wars_, book i. ch. xvi. ¶ _And in the rocks of the mountains._ Among the crags or the fastnesses of the mountains――also natural places of refuge in times of hostile invasion or danger. See Notes on Is. ii. 21. ¶ _And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us_, &c., ver. 16. This language is found substantially in Ho. x. 8: “And they shall say to the mountains, Cover us; and to the hills, Fall on us.” It is also used by the Saviour as denoting the consternation which would occur at his coming: “Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us,” Lu. xxiii. 30. It is language denoting consternation, and an awful fear of impending wrath. The state of mind is that where there is an apprehension that God himself is coming forth with the direct instruments of his vengeance, and where there is a desire rather to be crushed by falling rocks and hills than by the vengeance of his uplifted arm. ¶ _From the face of him that sitteth on the throne._ The face of God――for he seems to be coming forth with the displays of his vengeance. It is not said that God would actually come forth in a visible form, but their consternation would be as great as if he were to do this; the state of mind indicated by this was an apprehension that it would be so. ¶ _And from the wrath of the Lamb._ The Lamb of God; the Lord Jesus. See Notes on ch. v. 6. There seems to be an incongruity between the words _wrath_ and _Lamb_; but the word _Lamb_ here is so far a proper name as to be used only to designate the Redeemer. He comes forth to execute wrath, not as a Lamb, but as the Son of God, who bore that name. It would seem from this that they who thus dreaded the impending terrors were aware of their source, or had knowledge enough to understand by whom they were to be inflicted. They would see that these were _divine_ judgments, and would apprehend that the end of the world drew near. ¶ _For the great day of his wrath is come_, ver. 17. The threatening judgments would be so severe and awful that they would suppose that the end of the world was coming. ¶ _And who shall be able to stand?_ To stand before him, or to withstand his judgments.
It is unnecessary to say that there has been, in this case, as in reference to every other part of the book of Revelation, a great diversity of opinion respecting the events symbolized by this seal. Grotius applied it to the wars between the Jews and Romans under Nero and Vespasian; Dr. Hammond supposed that the defeat of the Jewish leaders in those wars was particularly symbolized; Mr. Brightman referred these symbols to the persecution under Diocletian; Mr. Mede, Dr. Cressner, Dr. More, Mr. Whiston, Mr. Jurien, Mr. Daubuz, Mr. Lowman, Bishop Newton, Mr. Elliott, and others, refer it to the defeat of the Pagan powers, and the final suppression of those powers as opposed to Christianity; Vitringa regarded it as foreshadowing the overthrow of the antichristian powers of the western Roman empire; Cocceius explains it of the wars of the Emperor Frederick against the German princes in the sixteenth century; Dean Woodhouse, of the day of vengeance at the end of the world; Mr. Cunninghame, of the same period as the seventh trumpet, commencing with the French revolution, and to be consummated by the visible advent of the Son of God; Professor Stuart, of the destruction of Jerusalem; and Mr. Lord, of a series of events, part of which are fulfilled, three of them corresponding with the first three vials――the first expressive of the revolution of France, the second of a despotism extending through several years, and the third of the overthrow of that violent dynasty, at the fall of {166} Bonaparte, in 1815. It is not my purpose to examine these views; but, amidst this great variety of opinion, it seems to me that the obvious and natural application of the opening of the seal has not been adverted to. I shall suggest it because it _is_ the most natural and obvious, and seems to be demanded by the explanations given of the previous seals. It is, in one word, the impending judgments from the invasions of the northern hordes of Goths and Vandals, threatening the breaking up of the Roman empire――the gathering of the storm, and the hovering of those barbarians on the borders of the empire; the approaches which they made from time to time towards the capital, though restrained as yet from taking it; the tempest of wrath that was, as it were, _suspended_ yet on the frontiers, until the events recorded in the next chapter should occur, then bursting forth in wrath in successive blasts, as denoted by the first four trumpets of the seventh seal (ch. viii.), when the empire was entirely overthrown by the Goths and Vandals. The precise point of time which I suppose this seal occupies is that _succeeding_ the last persecution. It embraces the preparatory arrangements of these hordes of invaders――their gathering on the frontiers of the empire――their threatened approaches toward the capital――and the formation of such vast armies as would produce universal consternation. A brief notice of these preparatory scenes, as adapted to produce the alarm referred to in the opening of the sixth seal, is all that will be necessary here; the more complete detail must be reserved for the explanation of the four trumpets of the seventh seal, when the work of destruction was consummated. These preparations and threatened invasions were events sufficiently important in their relation to the church, to what preceded, and to the future history of the world, to be symbolized here; and they are events in which all the particulars of the symbol may find a fulfilment. Anyone has only to look on a chart of history to see how appropriately this application of the symbol follows, if the previous explanations have been correct. In the illustration of this, in order to show the probability that these events are referred to by the symbols of the sixth seal, I would submit the following remarks:――
(1) The _time_ is that which would be naturally suggested by this seal in its relation to the others. If the fifth referred to the persecutions under Diocletian――the last great persecution of the Pagan powers in attempting to extinguish the Christian name――then we should naturally look for the fulfilment of the opening of the next in some event, or series of events, which would succeed that at no very distant interval, and that pertained to the empire or power that had been the prominent subject of the predictions in the previous seals. It would also be natural to look for some events that might be regarded as conveying an expression of the divine feeling in regard to that power, or that would present it in such an aspect that it would be seen that its power to persecute was at an end. This natural _expectation_ would be answered either by some symbol that would refer to the complete triumph of the Christian system, or by such a series of judgments as would break the persecuting power itself in pieces. Now the threatened irruption of the northern barbarians followed the series of events already described with sufficient _nearness_ to make it proper to regard that series of events as referred to.
(2) The events were of sufficient _importance_ in the history of the empire to deserve this notice in the foreshadowing of what would occur. They were connected with the breaking up of that mighty power, and the complete change of the aspect of the world, in a political and religious point of view. A new order of things arose in the world’s history. A new religion became established. New kingdoms from the fragments of the once-mighty Roman empire were founded, and the affairs of the world were put on a new footing. These mighty northern hordes not only spread consternation and alarm, as if the world were coming to an end, but they laid the foundations of kingdoms which continue to this day. In fact, few more important events have occurred in history.
(3) This series of events was _introduced_ in the manner described in the opening of the sixth seal. I have already said that it is not _necessary_ to suppose, in the fulfilment of the symbol, that there would be a literal earthquake; but nothing in the symbol forbids us to suppose that there might be, and if there were we could not but consider it as remarkable. Now it so happens that the series of events pertaining {167} to the Gothic invasions is introduced by Mr. Gibbon in the following language: “A.D. 365. In the second year of the reign of Valentinian and Valens, on the morning of the twenty-first day of July, the greatest part of the Roman world was shaken by a violent and destructive earthquake. The impression was communicated to the waters; the shores of the Mediterranean were left dry by the sudden retreat of the sea; great quantities of fish were caught with the hand; large vessels were stranded on the mud; and a curious spectator amused his eye, or rather his fancy, by contemplating the various appearances of valleys and mountains which had never before, since the formation of the globe, been exposed to the sun. But the tide soon returned, with the weight of an immense and irresistible deluge, which was severely felt on the coasts of Sicily, of Dalmatia, of Greece, and of Egypt; large boats were transported, and lodged on the roofs of houses, or at the distance of two miles from the shore; the people, with their habitations, were swept away by the waters; and the city of Alexandria annually commemorated the day on which fifty thousand persons had lost their lives in the inundation. This calamity, the report of which was magnified from one province to another, _astonished and terrified the subjects of Rome_; and their affrighted imagination enlarged the real extent of the momentary evil. They recollected the preceding earthquakes which had subverted the cities of Palestine and Bithynia; they considered these alarming strokes as the prelude only of still more dreadful calamities, and their fearful vanity was disposed to confound _the symptoms of a declining empire and a sinking world_,” vol. ii. pp. 115, 116. Mr. Gibbon then proceeds to detail the evils of war, as greatly surpassing the calamities produced by any natural causes, and adds (p. 116), “In the disastrous period of the fall of the Roman empire, which may be justly dated from the reign of Valens, the happiness and security of each individual was personally attacked; and the arts and labours of ages were rudely defaced by the barbarians of Scythia and Germany.” He then proceeds with an exceedingly interesting description of the origin, the habits, and the movements of the Tartar nations, particularly the Huns, as they moved to the West, and precipitated the Gothic nations on the provinces of the Roman empire, until Rome itself was thrice besieged, was taken, and was sacked (ii. 116‒266). The earthquake referred to occurred in A.D. 365. The movements of the Huns from their territories in the neighbourhood of China had commenced about A.D. 100, and in A.D. 375 they overcame the Goths lying along the Danube. The Goths, pressed and overcome by these savage invaders, asked permission of the Romans to cross the Danube, to find protection in the Roman empire, and to cultivate the waste lands of Thrace (Gibbon, ii. 129, 130). In the year 376 they were transported over the Danube, by the permission of the Roman emperor Valens; an event which, according to Mr. Gibbon, in its ultimate result, was the cause of the downfall of the empire; for they learned their own strength; they were attracted by the riches of the capital and the hope of reward, until they finally drew the Western emperor to Ravenna, sacked Rome, and took possession of Italy.
(4) A slight reference to the _series_ of events in these periods of consternation and conquest may show more closely the nature of the alarms which would be caused by the prospect of these dreadful invasions, and may prepare us for a better understanding of the successive calamities which occurred under these invaders, when the empire fell, as described by the four first trumpets of the seventh seal. I shall copy from the tables of contents of Mr. Gibbon’s history, under the twenty-sixth, thirtieth, and thirty-first chapters:――
“A.D. 365. Earthquakes. 376. The Huns and Goths. 100. The emigration of the Huns. 375. Their victories over the Goths. 376. The Goths implore the protection of Valens. ” They are transported over the Danube into the Roman empire. ” They penetrate into Thrace. 377. Union of the Goths with Huns, Alani, &c. 378. Battle of Hadrianople. ” The defeat of the Romans. 383‒395. The settlement of the Goths in Thrace and Asia. 395. Revolt of the Goths. 396. Alaric marches into Greece. 398. Is proclaimed king of the Visigoths. 400‒403. He invades Italy. 406. Radagaisus invades Italy. ” Besieges Florence. ” Threatens Rome. ” The remainder of the Germans invade Gaul. 407. Desolation of Gaul. 408. Alaric marches to Rome. ” First siege of Rome by the Goths. {168} 408. Famine, plague, superstition. 409. Alaric accepts a ransom and raises the siege. ” Fruitless negotiations for peace. ” Second siege of Rome by the Goths. 410. Third siege and sack of Rome by the Goths. ” Respect of the Goths for the Christian religion. ” Pillage and fire of Rome. ” Captives and fugitives. 411‒416. Fall of the usurpers Jovinus, Sebastian, and Attalus. 409. Invasion of Spain by the Suevi, Vandals, Alani, &c. 415‒418. The Goths conquer and restore Spain.”
(5) This would coincide, in the _effects_ produced on the empire, with the consternation and alarm described in the passage before us. The symbols are such as _would be_ employed on the supposition that these are the events referred to; they are such as the events are fitted to suggest. The mighty preparations in the East and North――the report of which could not but spread through the empire――would be appropriately symbolized by the earthquake, the darkened sun, the moon becoming like blood, the stars falling, the departing heavens, and the kings and great men of the earth fleeing in alarm to find a place of safety, as if the end of the world were drawing near. Nothing could have been so well adapted to produce the consternation described in the opening of the sixth seal, as the dreaded approach of vast hosts of barbarians from the regions of the North. This alarm would be increased by the fact that their numbers were unknown; that their origin was hidden; and that the advancing multitudes would sweep everything before them. As in other cases, also, rumour would increase their numbers and augment their ferocity. The sudden shock of an earthquake, the falling stars, the departing heavens, the removal of mountains and islands, and the consternation of kings and all classes of people, would be the appropriate emblems to represent these impending calamities. In confirmation of this, and as showing the _effect_ produced by the approach of the Goths, and the dread of the Gothic arms, in causing universal consternation, the following extracts may be adduced from Mr. Gibbon, when describing the threatened invasion of Alaric, king of the Visigoths. He quotes from Claudian. “‘Fame,’ says the poet, ‘encircling with terror her gloomy wings, proclaimed the march of the barbarian army, and filled Italy with consternation.’” Mr. Gibbon adds, “the apprehensions of each individual were increased in just proportion to the measure of his fortune; and the most timid, who had already embarked their valuable effects, meditated their escape to the island of Sicily, or to the African coast. The public distress was aggravated by the fears and reproaches of superstition. Every hour produced some horrid tale of strange and portentous accidents; the Pagans deplored the neglect of omens and the interruption of sacrifices; but the Christians still derived some comfort from the powerful intercession of the saints and martyrs,” ii. 218, 219. See further illustrations in the Notes on ch. viii. 7‒13.