CHAPTER X.

ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD.

Character of the Roman Army.――Conspiracy of Otho.――Death of Galba. ――Vitellius Emperor.――Revolt of the Jews, and Destruction of Jerusalem.――Reign of Vespasian.――Character of Titus; of Domitian. ――Religion of Pagan Rome.――Nerva.――Anecdotes of St. John. ――Exploits of Trajan.――Letter of Pliny.――Letter of Trajan.

AS we contemplate the awful scenes of depravity and misery witnessed under the reign of many of the Roman emperors, the sympathies of the reader are naturally excited in behalf of the oppressed millions. But it is a melancholy truth, that the people were as bad as the rulers. The assassin and his victim, the oppressors and the oppressed, the emperor in his palace, the nobles in their castles, the beggared poor in their hovels, were alike merciless, morally degraded, and depraved. Probably earth has never witnessed a more diabolical band than was congregated in a Roman army.

The Roman senate which had deposed Nero, and consigned him to death, immediately proclaimed Galba emperor. He was comparatively a worthy man, seventy-two years of age, and childless. Conscious of the awful corruption which reigned at Rome, and of his inability to stem the torrent; oppressed with the infirmities of years, and drawing near to the grave,――he adopted as his successor a young officer in the army, Piso Lucianus, a man of noble character and of rare virtue. But the last thing that the army desired was a virtuous sovereign. The soldiers, accustomed to plunder and license, desired a ruler who would gratify all their fierce and luxurious desires. They were exceedingly dissatisfied with the restraints which Galba imposed upon them. They wished for a tyrant who would trample down the nations, and who would allow the army to share in the plunder. Consequently, the soldiers were ripe for insurrection both against Galba and Piso.

There was a man in the army named Otho. He was one of the vilest of the vile; and had been so intimately the friend and accomplice of Nero, that he had ardently hoped for adoption. Tacitus says of him,――

“Otho was a stranger from his earliest days to every fair pursuit, and in the pride of manhood was distinguished for nothing but riot and debauchery. His emulation in luxury recommended him to the notice of Nero.” Most of the soldiers favored his views, and the creatures of Nero’s court zealously supported him as a congenial character. Numbers lamented the loss of Nero, and longed for the former laxity of discipline.

Otho formed a conspiracy in the army against Galba. He ridiculed his severe discipline, the restraints he imposed upon his troops, and his neglect to enrich them with plunder, and pamper them with luxuries. He assured them that Piso would be like Galba; that he would in the same way restrain their passions, and enforce rigid discipline. With talent for sarcasm, he scouted the idea of justice and mercy, declaring “that the affectation of practising such virtues, as they were called, was ridiculous in such a world as this.”

The conspiracy ripened. At the appointed time, the soldiers, with clashing of weapons and loud huzzas, raised Otho upon their shoulders, and declared him to be their emperor. The virtuous Galba was pursued with malignity even more intense than that which had driven Nero to suicide. The scene of his death is minutely described by Tacitus. Tumultuous thousands of the Roman soldiers, with oaths and imprecations, rushed from their encampment into the city to the palace of the emperor. A resistless mob of armed demoniac men surged through the streets. The populace fled before them. Galba had left the palace, and was on his way to the Forum. The infuriate mob of infantry and cavalry scattered in all directions. Some burst into the Forum, and trampled the senators beneath their feet. Galba was seized. As the assassins gathered around him, he looked up, and calmly said,――

“If you wish for my head, here it is. I am willing at any time to surrender it for the good of the Roman people.”

Scarcely had he uttered these words ere a sinewy soldier, with one blow of his heavy broadsword, struck off his head, and it rolled upon the pavement. Another soldier seized it by the hair, and thrust a pike into the palpitating flesh; and, with the shoutings of tumultuous thousands, the gory trophy was paraded through the streets. Such were the scenes which were witnessed in pagan Rome while the disciples of Jesus were preaching in obscurity, but with invincible zeal, from house to house, the gospel of love to God, and love to man.

The senate, overawed by the army, was compelled to ratify this foul assassination, and to declare Otho emperor. We have now reached the year of our Lord 67.

There was at this time an ambitious but able general, named Vitellius, in command of a powerful Roman army upon the Danube. He had secured the good-will of his fiendlike troops by the plunder which he allowed them, and the license in which they were permitted to indulge. He refused to recognize Otho as emperor; and, raising the standard of revolt, by a vote of the army caused the imperial dignity to be conferred upon himself. Vitellius, at the head of his army, marched upon Rome to wrest the sceptre from the hands of his rival. Otho advanced to meet him. The armies were each seventy thousand strong. They encountered each other on the plains of Lombardy, near Mantua. The battle was long and bloody. At length, the legions of Otho were utterly routed and dispersed. Dismissing most of his attendants, the ruined adventurer fell upon his own sword, and died. He had previously requested his slaves to bury him immediately. “This had been his earnest request,” writes Tacitus, “lest his head should be cut off, and be made a public spectacle.”

Vitellius, who at once compelled the senate to proclaim him emperor, was not by nature a tyrannical man; but he was luxurious and dissolute in the extreme, surrendering himself to every possible form of self-indulgence. He even equalled Nero in his unbridled, shameless profligacy. It is said that the expenses of his table alone, for a period of four months, amounted to a sum equal to about thirty million dollars.

There was little in the character of such a man to excite either respect or fear. A conspiracy was soon formed for his overthrow. There was quite a distinguished general, named Vespasian, in command of the Roman army in Judæa. He had acquired celebrity in the wars of Germany and Britain, and, having been consul at Rome, had many acquaintances of influence there. Vespasian entered into a correspondence with the conspirators. It was not difficult to induce his soldiers to proclaim him emperor.

Vespasian, remaining himself in the East, sent his army, under his ablest generals, to Rome. A terrible battle was fought beneath its walls and through its streets, during which the beautiful capitol, the pride of the city, was laid in ashes. The troops of Vespasian were triumphant, and the opposing ranks were utterly crushed. Vitellius, as cowardly as he was infamous, hid in the cabin of a slave. He was dragged forth, and paraded through the streets, with his hands bound behind him, and with a rope round his neck. After enduring hours of ignominy, derision, and torture, he was beaten to death by the clubs of the soldiers. His body was then dragged over the pavements; and the mangled mass, having lost all semblance of humanity, was thrown into the Tiber.

The obsequious senate immediately united with the victorious army in declaring Vespasian emperor. While these scenes of tumult and carnage were transpiring, and the whole Roman empire was desolated with poverty, oppression, and woe, Christianity was making rapid and noiseless progress among the masses of the people in many remote provinces of the empire too obscure or distant to attract the attention of the emperors. The teachings of Jesus were alike adapted to one and to all, to every condition, and to every conceivable circumstance in life. The doctrines of the cross came with moral guidance and with unspeakable consolation to all who would accept them,――to the millions of bondmen; to the despised freedmen; to the soldier; to centurions, governors, and generals; to the members of the imperial palace. It said to all, “Earth is not your home: lay up for yourselves treasure in heaven. Accept life’s discipline, bear it patiently, that you may be prepared by it for honor, glory, and immortality in heaven.”

The Jews in Judæa took advantage of these civil discords to rise in rebellion against their Roman masters. Vespasian organized an army, which he placed under his son Titus, to quell the revolt. When Jesus was crucified at Jerusalem, the Jews said, “His blood be upon us and on our children.” It was a fearful imprecation, and terribly was it realized. Christ had minutely foretold the utter destruction of Jerusalem, so “that not even one stone should be left upon another.”

“When ye shall see Jerusalem,” said Jesus, “compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in Judæa flee to the mountains, and let them which are in the midst of it depart out; and let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto. For these be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled. But woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck, in those days! for there shall be great distress in the land, and wrath upon this people. And they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away captive into all nations; and Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles.”[169]

It was in the year of our Lord 70. Vials of woe, which even the mystic symbols of apocalyptic vision cannot exaggerate, were poured out upon the doomed city. Human nature has perhaps never before nor since endured such woes. It is impossible for the imagination to conceive more appalling horrors, or sufferings more terrible, than were then experienced. The reader will find those scenes of rage, despair, and misery, minutely detailed by the pen of Josephus. It requires strong nerves to enable any one to peruse the revolting narrative with composure.

Probably the disciples of the Saviour, warned by their divine Master, had all fled from Jerusalem and Judæa, conveying the tidings of the gospel wherever they went in their wide dispersion. Our Saviour had urged them to a precipitate flight. “When ye therefore shall see,” said he, “the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet” (referring to the Roman armies), “stand in the holy place, then let them which be in Judæa flee into the mountains; let him which is on the housetop not come down to take any thing out of his house; neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes: for then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time; no, nor ever shall be. And, except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved; but, for the elect’s sake, those days shall be shortened.”[170]

The siege lasted six months. The city was entirely demolished. A million of Jews perished by the sword, pestilence, and famine. A hundred thousand who were taken captive were sold into slavery. All Judæa was thus brought again into submission to Rome. Titus, laden with the spoils of the city, and accompanied by his long train of captives, returned in triumph to Rome. He was received with universal acclaim. The signal victory he had achieved strengthened the throne of his father. In commemoration of the event, a triumphal arch was erected,――_the Arch of Titus_. This massive structure, reared eighteen hundred years ago, remains almost perfect to the present day. It still attracts the thoughtful gaze of every tourist in Rome.

Vespasian proved one of the best of the Roman emperors. With great energy and wisdom, he devoted himself to the welfare of his wide-spread realms. It was during his reign that the world-renowned Coliseum, was reared,――the most gigantic amphitheatre in the world. It furnished seats for eighty thousand spectators, and standing-room for twenty thousand more. It was in the arena of this vast edifice that subsequently so many Christians, with a hundred thousand spectators gazing mockingly upon them, endured the pangs and won the crown of ♦martyrdom.

But under Vespasian there was no persecution. Indeed, it is probable, that he, residing so long in Judæa, had, like Felix, become somewhat acquainted with Christian doctrines; and, like Agrippa, he may have been almost persuaded to become a Christian. The teachings of Jesus exert an ennobling influence far beyond the bounds of the organized church; and it is certain that Vespasian exhibited a character of humanity, of purity, of interest in the public welfare, very different from that which was developed by most of the Roman emperors. Still there is no evidence that he became an acknowledged disciple of Jesus. It is said that he died on the 24th of June, A.D. 79, after a prosperous reign of ten years.

Feeling himself to be dangerously ill, he remarked to those around him, derisively, in view of what he knew would be the action of the senate in voting his deification, “I perceive that I am about to become a god.” As his end drew near, he said, with pride which he could not have learned from the religion of Jesus, “An emperor should die standing.” Aided by his friends, he rose from his couch, and, while sustained by their arms, expired.

We are confirmed in our view, that the Emperor Vespasian must have been brought in some degree under the influence of Christian doctrine, from the marvellous change, resembling true conversion, which suddenly took place in the character of his son Titus, who succeeded his father on the throne.

In early years, this young man was exceedingly dissipated; but to the surprise of every one, and without any known cause which history has transmitted to us, he abandoned all the vicious practices of his youth, separated himself from all his dissolute companions, and commenced a life of integrity, of purity and benevolence, which was certainly such as the religion of Jesus enjoined. With devotion hitherto unexampled, he consecrated himself to the welfare of his realm, and to promoting the happiness of those around him. One of his remarks, illustrative of his character, has survived the lapse of eighteen centuries. It will continue to live in the hearts of men so long as earth shall endure. At the close of a day in which no opportunity had occurred of doing good, he exclaimed sadly, “Perdidi diem,”――“_I have lost a day._” This truly Christian sentiment is beautifully versified in the words,――

“Count that day lost whose low-descending sun Views at thy hand no worthy action done.”

It was during the reign of Titus, in A.D. 79, that the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii――as corrupt in all conceivable abominations as Sodom and Gomorrah could possibly have been――were buried beneath the lava and ashes of Vesuvius. They were discovered early in the last century. The remains of these cities, so wonderfully preserved, and now being brought to light, reveal much of the habits and social customs of those days.

We know not that Titus was a Christian. The light is very dim which comes down to us through these long centuries. But it is certain, that, in very many things, he manifested the spirit of Christ. The reign of this good man was short. Titus had a brother Domitian, an utterly depraved young man. He was to Titus as Cain to Abel. Anxious to grasp the sceptre, it is said that he poisoned his brother Titus when he had attained the forty-first year of his age and the second of his reign. The wretched Domitian ascended the throne. It is certain that he had heard of Jesus, of Christianity. The guilty are always suspicious. Knowing that the Christians regarded Jesus as their King, that they were looking for his second coming to reign as their Lord and Master, he regarded Jesus as a formidable rival. Apprehensive that there might be some heirs of Jesus around whom the Christians might rally, he arrested a large number of the disciples, and had them brought before him for examination. Anxiously he inquired of them what money they had in their treasury, what territory they possessed, and when and where the reign of Jesus would commence. The disciples assured him that they had neither lands nor money. In proof, they showed him their hands, indurated by toil. They assured him that the kingdom of Jesus was to be, not an earthly kingdom, but a heavenly and angelic; and that his reign would not commence until the end of the world, when Jesus would appear in clouds of glory.

Domitian was by no means satisfied with these replies. It was the general belief of the Christians, that Christ, in his second coming, might appear at any time. This was appalling tidings to Domitian. Such a dethronement was more terrible than any other which could be thought of. He hated the Christians, and wreaked undiscriminating and pitiless vengeance upon them. Many were driven from their homes into exile. They carried with them into the remotest provinces of the empire the glad tidings of the gospel. Many suffered death, accompanied by all conceivable tortures.

It is one of the legends of the Catholic Church, that the aged apostle John, being then at Rome, was, by the order of Domitian, thrown into a caldron of boiling oil. Miraculously he escaped without injury. He was then banished to the Isle of Patmos. It was there that he was favored with that wonderful series of visions recorded in the book of Revelation. In these mystic pages, so much of which is still enigmatical, the apostle represents what was to happen in succeeding ages,――particularly that the Church should suffer persecution; the punishment of its persecutors; the ruin of Rome, where idolatry reigned; the destruction of idolatry itself, and the final glory of the triumphant Church.[171]

There was a very renowned Roman general, by the name of Agricola, who, under Titus, had been very efficiently employed in Britain in endeavoring to civilize the barbarous natives. He taught them many of the manners and customs of the more enlightened Romans. It is said that Domitian, fearing that Agricola was acquiring reputation, caused him to be poisoned.

Sin and insanity are closely allied. Domitian wished to enjoy the splendors of a Roman triumph; but he had never won a victory. He was no soldier. Still he got up a magnificent civil and military display, and with streaming banners, and pealing music, and the tramp of armed legions, entered Rome, charioted like a conqueror returning from the most triumphant campaign. A large number of slaves, disguised as captives of war, were led in the train to grace a triumph which exposed Domitian to universal ridicule and contempt. He assumed divine honors; reared statues of himself in gold and silver in conspicuous positions, and required his subjects to address him as a god. Any who were suspected of being unfriendly to him were mercilessly punished with torture and death. The extravagance of his expenditure was so enormous, that Martial says, in one of his epigrams,――

“If the emperor would call in all his debts, Jupiter himself, even though he had made a general auction of Olympus, would have been unable to pay two shillings in the pound.”

The tyrant kept a tablet, upon which he wrote the names of those whom he had doomed to die. His infamous wife Domitia, for some cause suspecting him, got a peep at the tablet while her husband was asleep. To her consternation, she found her own name, with those of several others, on the fatal list. She immediately entered into a conspiracy with them for the assassination of her husband. One of the conspirators approached the emperor under the pretence of presenting him a memoir disclosing a conspiracy. Assuming that his right arm was crippled, it was hung in a sling. As he presented the memorial with his left hand, he suddenly drew a concealed dagger, and plunged it into the heart of the tyrant.

Thus died Domitian, as is reported, on the 17th of September, A.D. 96. He was but forty-five years of age, and had reigned fifteen years. This wicked world of ours has produced many monsters. Among them all, it would be difficult to find any one more execrable than Domitian. In his character, not a redeeming trait could be found to mitigate the hatred and contempt with which he was universally regarded. The tidings of his death were hailed with joy throughout the empire. His statues were demolished, and his name consigned to infamy.

While these scenes were transpiring within the bounds of the Roman empire, almost nothing is known of the condition of the world outside of those not very clearly-defined limits. There are dim and shadowy glimpses of vast tribes or nations wandering over the hills and plains, as savage, as ferocious, as the wild beasts in whose skins they were clad. They seemed to be ever struggling in battle, as they surged to and fro over the vast plains of India, around the shores of the Caspian, and through the defiles of the Caucasus, amidst the gloomy forests extending far away from the remote banks of the Danube to the regions of eternal ice and snow. Storms of passion and cruelty were here silently accumulating, which were soon to burst with overwhelming destruction upon the Roman empire. With many thinking men there was a growing apprehension of these barbarians, who were gathering in such appalling swarms upon the frontiers of the Roman world. Occasionally an adventurous traveller would penetrate these wilds, and bring back astounding stories of the numbers, barbarism, and warlike ferocity, of these innumerable tribes.

If we look within the Roman empire, we see little but crime and misery. A haughty slaveholding aristocracy, few in number, but strong in the resistless power of the Roman legions, trampled the degraded and depraved millions beneath their feet. The Roman aristocracy had scarcely a redeeming virtue. The pillage of the known world had fallen into their hands. There were those of them who possessed estates larger than many modern kingdoms. Their vice and luxury were boundless. They seldom moved unless guarded by a troop of insolent retainers, whose devotion they easily purchased by spoils of the plundered.

The religion of pagan Rome consisted of a gorgeous display of magnificent temples, shrines, and imposing ceremonies. It was a religion which never ennobled the character, exerting no influence whatever in the promotion of public or individual virtue. Gibbon, whose authority on this point will not be questioned, states “that the private character and conduct of these foul idolaters were never in the slightest degree restrained by the religion which they professed.”

Upon the very day of the death of Domitian, the senate, apprehensive that the army might anticipate them in the choice of a successor, conferred the imperial purple upon Nerva, a venerable and virtuous man of sixty-five. We say that he was venerable and virtuous; while there is no evidence that he was a disciple of Jesus. It is impossible now to ascertain how far the influence of the Jewish religion, with its ten commandments and its revelation of one only God, had extended beyond the Israelitish organization, or how far the teachings of Jesus had penetrated the community and was influencing the lives of those who did not openly profess his name; but it is certain that here and there individuals were found, though few in number, who were devout men, like the Roman centurion Cornelius, “who feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway.”

Such a man was Nerva. He immediately recalled all the Christians who had been banished from Rome by the Emperor Domitian. He issued a decree forbidding that any one should be molested for cherishing the faith either of the Jews or of the Christians. The dungeons, which were filled with the victims of tyranny, he opened, and liberated the captives. The venerable apostle John was released from his exile at Patmos, and returned to Ephesus, where it is said that he remained for the rest of his life.

It is often difficult to discriminate between what should be regarded as true and what as fable in the annals of those early days. But the following incident, given by the Abbé Fleury, is alike interesting and instructive, as showing the reputation which the venerable apostle enjoyed. It is said that St. John one day attended a meeting of the disciples in a small village a few miles from Ephesus. A young man of remarkable personal beauty was also present, who was so frank and genial in his manners as at once to win the tender regard of the affectionate disciple whom Jesus loved. Addressing himself to the pastor of the church after the young man had left, the apostle said, “In the presence of this church, and of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, I commend to your especial care this young man.” As he left to return to Ephesus, he very emphatically repeated the solemn charge.

The bishop or pastor of the church sought the young man, won his confidence, taught him the religion of Jesus, and finally by baptism received him to the church. The young man having partaken of the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, the bishop deemed him safe, and relaxed his vigilance. But he, being exposed anew to temptation, fell into bad company, was lured to midnight festivals, gradually abandoned all religious restraints, and plunged into the most reckless course of dissipation. His last state became so much worse than the first, that he at length became captain of a gang of robbers, whose rendezvous was among the mountains, and who were the terror of the community.

Some time after this, the apostle again visited this rural church. With deep interest he inquired for the young man. The bishop, with tears filling his eyes, replied,――

“He is dead,――dead to God. He has become a bad man and a robber. Instead of frequenting the church, he has established himself in the fastnesses of the mountains.”

The venerable apostle was overwhelmed with grief. After a moment’s reflection, he said, “Bring me immediately a horse and a guide.” Without any preparation, in the clothes he then wore, he advanced towards the region infested by the robbers. Scarcely had he entered their rocky haunts ere some of the gang who were on the lookout arrested the defenceless, penniless, humbly-clad old man. “Conduct me to your chief,” said the apostle: “I have come expressly to see him.”

The captain soon made his appearance, armed from head to foot. The moment he recognized the apostle, overwhelmed with shame, he turned, and endeavored to escape by flight. John, notwithstanding the infirmity of years, pursued him with almost supernatural speed, and cried,――

“My son, why will you fly from your father, an old man without arms? Have pity upon me, my son: do not fear. There is still hope that you may be saved. I will plead for you with Jesus Christ. If it be necessary, I will willingly give my life for yours, as he has given his for us. Believe me that Jesus Christ has sent me to you.”

At these words the young man arrested his steps, but could not raise his eyes from the ground. He threw aside his arms, and then, trembling, burst into tears, weeping bitterly. When the apostle had reached him, the young man threw his arms around the neck of the aged Christian, and with sobbings, either of remorse or penitence, embraced him tenderly. The apostle endeavored to console the guilty wanderer from the fold of Christ. He assured him that Jesus was ready to forgive all. He led him back to the church, engaged all the disciples to pray for him, and kept him constantly by his side as a companion and a friend. Under these influences, it is said that the prodigal became a true penitent, re-entered the church, and ever after continued one of its brightest ornaments.

It was at Ephesus that John wrote the Gospel that bears his name, and also his three Epistles. It is said, that in his extreme old age, when his faculties of body and mind were so enfeebled that he could not make a continuous discourse, he would frequently rise in the prayer-meetings of the church, simply repeating the words, “My dear children, love one another.” When some of the brethren, wearied by the continued utterance of the same sentiment, inquired of him why he always repeated the same words, he replied, “Because this is the commandment of our Lord. If you keep this commandment, you will keep all the rest.” The venerable apostle died at Ephesus in the year of our Lord 99.

The Emperor Nerva, because he was a good man, was extremely unpopular with the army, and with the aristocracy, whose wealth was derived from plundering the helpless. Feeling the infirmities of years, and having no children, Nerva looked about him for some available candidate to whom he could transmit the crown. There was a distinguished Roman general, named Trajan, at the head of an army upon the Danube. He was stationed there to resist the barbarians from the north, who were now making frequent inroads into the Roman empire, burning and plundering without mercy. Trajan constructed a bridge across the Danube. The ruins of this stupendous structure of twenty-two arches still remain, testifying to the amazing skill of the Roman engineers. Across this bridge the impetuous general marched his legions, and, constructing a military road for their advance, pursued the barbarians through the wilds of Dacia to the River Dneister, chastising them with terrible severity. The importance of this conquest was deemed so great, that, in commemoration of the event, a magnificent monument was reared in Rome. This world-renowned shaft――the Column of Trajan, a hundred and eighteen feet in height――still stands, one of the most admired works of art in the world. Upon a spiral belt intwined around it were sculptured the principal events of the expedition. Napoleon I. adopted the Column of Trajan as the model of the still more lofty and imposing column raised in the Place Vendôme in honor of the French army.

Nerva pronounced Trajan his heir. Hardly had he taken this important step ere he suddenly died, after a reign of but little more than a year. Trajan, who, unopposed, assumed the sceptre, though exceedingly ambitious of military renown, and imposing upon himself no restraints in sensual indulgence, was a very intelligent, and naturally a kind-hearted man. But he could not look with a friendly eye upon the advances which Christianity was making. The teachings of Jesus condemned both his military career and his personal habits.

Pliny, called the Younger, was then governor of Pontus, in Asia Minor. There were very many Christians within his realms. Very severe edicts had been issued from Rome against them. It was Pliny’s duty to see these decrees executed. But his philosophic mind and humane spirit recoiled from consigning to torture and to death men, women, and children in whom he could see no crime worthy of punishment. He accordingly wrote to the Emperor Trajan the following letter, which has been transmitted to us by Eusebius:――

“I deem it my duty, sire, to consult your majesty upon all those questions respecting which I am in doubt; for who can better guide me in my perplexities, or instruct me in my ignorance? I have never been present at the trial of the Christians; therefore I do not know for what they are punished, or with what crimes they are charged: but I have many doubts whether regard should not be paid to the difference of age; whether the most tender children should not he distinguished from those of maturer years; whether those who repent should be entitled to a pardon; or whether it should be of any avail that one who has once been a Christian is no longer such. It is also a question with me whether the name alone should be punished, without any other crime, or the crimes usually attached to that name.

“Still the following is the course which I have adopted towards those who have been brought before me as Christians: I have interrogated them if they were such. When they have confessed it, I have asked them a second and a third time, threatening them with punishment. If they have persevered in the declaration, I have pronounced judgment against them; for I can have no doubt, that, whatever may be the character of the Christian faith, inflexible obstinacy merits punishment.

“There are others of these fanatical persons whom I have ordered to be sent to Rome, since they were Roman citizens. Accusations, as is usual in such cases, are greatly multiplied, and very many are denounced to me. An anonymous proscription-list has been made out, containing the names of many who deny that they are, or ever have been, Christians.

“When I have seen those accused worshipping the gods with me, and offering incense to your image which I have erected among the statues of the gods, and, most of all, when they have abjured Christ, I have thought it my duty to set them at liberty; for I am told that it is impossible to compel those who are truly Christians to do either of these things.

“So far as I can learn, the only fault or error of which the Christians are guilty consists in this: They are accustomed to assemble on a certain day before the rising of the sun, and to sing together a hymn in honor of Christ as a god. Instead of binding themselves to the commission of any crime, they take a solemn oath not to be guilty of fraud or robbery or impurity, or any other wrong. They promise never to violate their word, never to be false to a trust. After this they retire, soon to meet again to partake of a simple and innocent repast; but from this they abstained after the ordinance I issued, in accordance with your orders, prohibiting the people from assembling together.

“The repasts of the Christians were innocent, although the calumny has been widely diffused that they stifled an infant and ate it. I thought it necessary, in order to ascertain the truth, to subject to the torture two females who had served at these feasts; but I could detect nothing but an unreasonable superstition.

“This subject has seemed to me the more worthy of investigation in consequence of the great numbers of the accused. Many persons, of all ages, of both sexes, and of every condition in life, are placed in peril. The superstition has infested not only the cities, but the villages and the remote rural districts. But it seems to me that it can be arrested and exterminated. Certain it is that the temples of the gods, which had been almost abandoned, have begun to be frequented. Solemn sacrifices, after long interruption, are again celebrated. Even in the most sparsely-settled districts, the victims for sacrifice are to be seen. Hence one may judge of the large number of those who would return to the gods if an opportunity were given for repentance.”

This letter was written about the year of our Lord 106. Trajan, in his reply, says,――

“You have done perfectly right, my dear Pliny, in the inquiry you have made concerning Christians; for truly no one general rule can be laid down which can be applied to all cases. They must not be sought after. If they are brought before you, and convicted, let them be capitally punished; yet with this restriction,――that if any renounce Christianity, and evidence their sincerity by supplicating our gods, however suspected they may be for the past, they shall obtain pardon for the future on their repentance. But anonymous libels in no case ought to be noticed; for the precedent would be of the worst sort, and perfectly incongruous with the maxims of my government.”

This response of the emperor checked in some degree the persecutions with which the Christians were menaced; but it did not prevent their enemies from inflicting upon them, under various pretexts, all the injury in their power. In many places the populace, and in others the magistrates, pursued them with obloquy and oppression; so that, while there was no general and declared persecution, they were everywhere exposed to insult and outrage.