The history of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire: By Edward Gibbon, Esq; ... [pt.1]

CHAP. III. Of the Constitution of the Roman Empire, in the Age of the Antonines.

THE obvious definition of a monarchy seems to be that of a state, in which a single per|son, by whatsoever name he may be distinguish|ed, * 1.1 is intrusted with the execution of the laws, the management of the revenue, and the command of the army. But, unless public liberty is protected by intrepid and vigilant guardians, the authority of so formidable a magistrate will soon degenerate into despotism. The influence of the clergy, in an age of superstition, might be usefully employ|ed to assert the rights of mankind; but so inti|mate is the connexion between the throne and the altar, that the banner of the church has very seldom been seen on the side of the people. A martial nobility and stubborn commons, possessed of arms, tenacious of property, and collected into constitutional assemblies, form the only balance capable of preserving a free constitution against enterprises of an aspiring prince.

Every barrier of the Roman constitution had * 1.2 been levelled by the vast ambition of the dic|tator; every fence had been extirpated by the cruel hand of the Triumvir. After the victory of Actium, the fate of the Roman world de|pended on the will of Octavianus, surnamed Cae|sar, by his uncle's adoption, and afterwards Au|gustus,

by the flattery of the senate. The con|queror was at the head of forty-four veteran le|gions 1 1.3, conscious of their own strength, and of the weakness of the constitution, habituated, during twenty years civil war, to every act of blood and violence, and passionately devoted to the house of Caesar, from whence alone they had received, and expected, the most lavish rewards. The provinces, long oppressed by the ministers of the republic, sighed for the government of a single person, who would be the master, not the accomplice, of those petty tyrants. The people of Rome, viewing, with a secret pleasure, the humiliation of the aristocracy, demanded only bread and public shows; and were supplied with both by the liberal hand of Augustus. The rich and polite Italians, who had almost universally embraced the philosophy of Epicurus, enjoyed the present blessings of ease and tranquillity, and suffered not the pleasing dream to be interrupted by the memory of their old tumultuous freedom. With its power, the senate had lost its dignity; many of the most noble families were extinct. The republicans of spirit and ability had perish|ed in the field of battle, or in the proscription. The door of the assembly had been designedly left open, for a mixed multitude of more than a thousand persons, who reflected disgrace upon their rank, instead of deriving honour from it 2 1.4.

The reformation of the senate, was one of the first steps in which Augustus laid aside the ty|rant, and professed himself the father of his * 1.5 country. He was elected censor; and, in con|cert with his faithful Agrippa, he examined the list of the senators, expelled a few members, whose vices or whose obstinacy required a pub|lic example, persuaded near two hundred to pre|vent the shame of an expulsion by a voluntary retreat, raised the qualification of a senator to about ten thousand pounds, created a sufficient number of Patrician families, and accepted for himself, the honourable title of Prince of the Senate, which had always been bestowed, by the censors, on the citizen the most eminent for his honours and services 3 1.6. But whilst he thus re|stored the dignity, he destroyed the independence of the senate. The principles of a free consti|tution are irrecoverably lost, when the legislative power is nominated by the executive.

Before an assembly thus modelled and pre|pared, * 1.7 Augustus pronounced a studied oration, which displayed his patriotism, and disguised his ambition.

He lamented, yet excused, his past conduct. Filial piety had required at his hands the revenge of his father's murder; the humanity of his own nature had sometimes given way to the stern laws of necessity, and to a forced connexion with two unworthy col|leagues: as long as Antony lived, the repub|lic

forbad him to abandon her to a degenerate Roman, and a barbarian queen. He was now at liberty to satisfy his duty and his inclina|tion. He solemnly restored the senate and people to all their ancient rights; and wished only to mingle with the crowd of his fellow-citizens, and to share the blessings which he had obtained for his country 4 1.8.

It would require the pen of Tacitus (if Tacitus * 1.9 had assisted at this assembly) to describe the va|rious emotions of the senate; those that were suppressed, and those that were affected. It was dangerous to trust the sincerity of Augustus; to seem to distrust it, was still more dangerous. The respective advantages of monarchy and a republic have often divided speculative inquirers; the present greatness of the Roman state, the corruption of manners, and the licence of the soldiers, supplied new arguments to the advo|cates of monarchy; and these general views of government were again warped by the hopes and fears of each individual. Amidst this confusion of sentiments, the answer of the senate was una|nimous and decisive. They refused to accept the resignation of Augustus; they conjured him not to desert the republic, which he had saved. After a decent resistance, the crafty tyrant sub|mitted to the orders of the senate; and consent|ed to receive the government of the provinces,

and the general command of the Roman armies, under the well-known names of PROCONSUL and IMPERATOR 5 1.10. But he would receive them only for ten years. Even before the expiration of that period, he hoped that the wounds of civil dis|cord would be completely healed, and that the republic, restored to its pristine health and vi|gour, would no longer require the dangerous interposition of so extraordinary a magistrate. The memory of this comedy, repeated several times during the life of Augustus, was preserved to the last ages of the empire, by the peculiar pomp with which the perpetual monarchs of Rome always solemnized the tenth years of their reign 6 1.11.

Without any violation of the principles of the * 1.12 constitution, the general of the Roman armies might receive and exercise an authority almost despotic over the soldiers, the enemies, and the subjects of the republic. With regard to the soldiers, the jealousy of freedom had, even from the earliest ages of Rome, given way to the hopes of conquest, and a just sense of military discipline. The dictator, or consul, had a right to command the service of the Roman youth; and to punish an obstinate or cowardly disobe|dience by the most severe and ignominious pe|nalties,

by striking the offender out of the list of citizens, by confiscating his property, and by selling his person into slavery 7 1.13. The most sacred rights of freedom, confirmed by the Porcian and Sempronian laws, were suspended by the mili|tary engagement. In his camp the general ex|ercised an absolute power of life and death; his jurisdiction was not confined by any forms of trial, or rules of proceeding, and the execution of the sentence was immediate and without ap|peal 8 1.14. The choice of the enemies of Rome was regularly decided by the legislative authority. The most important resolutions of peace and war were seriously debated in the senate, and solemnly ratified by the people. But when the arms of the legions were carried to a great distance from Italy, the generals assumed the liberty of direct|ing them against whatever people, and in what|ever manner, they judged most advantageous for the public service. It was from the success, not from the justice, of their enterprises, that they expected the honours of a triumph. In the use of victory, especially after they were no longer controlled by the commissioners of the senate, they exercised the most unbounded despotism. When Pompey commanded in the east, he re|warded his soldiers and allies, dethroned princes,

divided kingdoms, founded colonies, and distri|buted the treasures of Mithridates. On his re|turn to Rome, he obtained, by a single act of the senate and people, the universal ratification of all his proceedings 9 1.15. Such was the power over the soldiers, and over the enemies of Rome, which was either granted to, or assumed by, the generals of the republic. They were, at the same time, the governors, or rather monarchs, of the conquered provinces, united the civil with the military character, administered justice as well as the finances, and exercised both the executive and legislative power of the state.

From what has been already observed in the * 1.16 first chapter of this work, some notion may be formed of the armies and provinces thus intrust|ed to the ruling hand of Augustus. But as it was impossible that he could personally command the legions of so many distant frontiers, he was indulged by the senate, as Pompey had already been, in the permission of devolving the execu|tion of his great office on a sufficient number of lieutenants. In rank and authority these officers seemed not inferior to the ancient proconsuls; but their station was dependent and precarious. They received and held their commissions at

the will of a superior, to whose auspicious influ|ence the merit of their action was legally attri|buted 10 1.17. They were the representatives of the emperor. The emperor alone was the general of the republic, and his jurisdiction, civil as well as military, extended over all the conquests of Rome. It was some satisfaction, however, to the senate, that he always delegated his power to the members of their body. The Imperial lieute|nants were of consular or praetorian dignity; the legions were commanded by senators, and the praefecture of Egypt was the only important trust committed to a Roman knight.

Within six days after Augustus had been com|pelled * 1.18 to accept so very liberal a grant, he re|solved to gratify the pride of the senate by an easy sacrifice. He represented to them, that they had enlarged his powers, even beyond that degree which might be required by the melancholy con|dition of the times. They had not permitted him to refuse the laborious command of the ar|mies and the frontiers; but he must insist on being allowed to restore the more peaceful and secure provinces, to the mild administration of the civil magistrate. In the division of the pro|vinces, Augustus provided for his own power,

and for the dignity of the republic. The pro|consuls of the senate, particularly those of Asia, Greece, and Africa, enjoyed a more honourable character than the lieutenants of the emperor, who commanded in Gaul or Syria. The former were attended by lictors, the latter by soldiers. A law was passed, that wherever the emperor was present, his extraordinary commission should supersede the ordinary jurisdiction of the go|vernor; a custom was introduced, that the new conquests belonged to the Imperial portion; and it was soon discovered, that the authority of the Prince, the favourite epithet of Augustus, was the same in every part of the empire.

In return for this imaginary concession, Au|gustus * 1.19 obtained an important privilege, which rendered him master of Rome and Italy. By a dangerous exception to the ancient maxims, he was authorized to preserve his military command, supported by a numerous body of guards, even in time of peace, and in the heart of the capital. His command, indeed, was confined to those citizens who were engaged in the service by the military oath; but such was the propensity of the Romans to servitude, that the oath was volun|tarily taken by the magistrates, the senators, and the equestrian order, till the homage of flattery was insensibly converted into an annual and so|lemn protestation of fidelity.

Although Augustus considered a military force * 1.20 as the firmest foundation, he wisely rejected it, as a very odious instrument of government. It was more agreeable to his temper, as well as to his

policy, to reign under the venerable names of ancient magistracy, and artfully to collect, in his own person, all the scattered rays of civil juris|diction. With this view, he permitted the senate to confer upon him, for his life, the powers of the consular 11 1.21 and tribunitian offices 12 1.22, which were, in the same manner, continued to all his successors. The consuls had succeeded to the kings of Rome, and represented the dignity of the state. They superintended the ceremonies of religion, levied and commanded the legions, gave audience to foreign ambassadors, and pre|sided in the assemblies both of the senate and people. The general control of the finances was intrusted to their care; and though they seldom had leisure to administer justice in person, they were considered as the supreme guardians of law, equity, and the public peace. Such was their ordinary jurisdiction; but whenever the senate empowered the first magistrate to consult the safety of the commonwealth, he was raised by that degree above the laws, and exercised, in the defence of liberty, a temporary despotism 13 1.23.

The character of the tribunes was, in every re|spect, different from that of the consuls. The appearance of the former was modest and hum|ble; but their persons were sacred and inviolable. Their force was suited rather for opposition than for action. They were instituted to defend the oppressed, to pardon offences, to arraign the enemies of the people, and, when they judged it necessary, to stop, by a single word, the whole machine of government. As long as the repub|lic subsisted, the dangerous influence, which ei|ther the consul or the tribune might derive from their respective jurisdiction, was diminished by several important restrictions. Their authority expired with the year in which they were elected; the former office was divided between two, the latter among ten persons; and, as both in their private and public interest they were averse to each other, their mutual conflicts contributed, for the most part, to strengthen rather than to destroy the balance of the constitution. But when the consular and tribunitian powers were united, when they were vested for life in a single person, when the general of the army was, at the same time, the minister of the senate and the representative of the Roman people, it was im|possible to resist the exercise, nor was it easy to define the limits, of his Imperial prerogative.

To these accumulated honours, the policy of Augustus soon added the splendid as well as im|portant dignities of supreme pontiff, and of cen|sor. * 1.24 By the former he acquired the management of the religion, and by the latter a legal inspec|tion over the manners and fortunes of the Ro|man people. If so many distinct and independ|ent powers did not exactly unite with each other, the complaisance of the senate was pre|pared to supply every deficiency by the most ample and extraordinary concessions. The em|perors, as the first ministers of the republic, were exempted from the obligation and penalty of many inconvenient laws: they were authori|zed to convoke the senate, to make several mo|tions in the same day, to recommend candidates for the honours of the state, to enlarge the bounds of the city, to employ the revenue at their dis|cretion, to declare peace and war, to ratify trea|ties; and by a most comprehensive clause, they were empowered to execute whatsoever they should judge advantageous to the empire, and agreeable to the majesty of things private or pub|lic, human or divine 14 1.25.

When all the various powers of executive go|vernment * 1.26 were committed to the Imperial magi|strate, the ordinary magistrates of the common|wealth languished in obscurity, without vigour, and almost without business. The names and

forms of the ancient administration were preserv|ed by Augustus with the most anxious care. The usual number of consuls, praetors, and tri|bunes 15 1.27, were annually invested with their re|spective ensigns of office, and continued to dis|charge some of their least important functions. Those honours still attracted the vain ambition of the Romans; and the emperors themselves, though invested for life with the powers of the consulship, frequently aspired to the title of that annual dignity, which they condescended to share with the most illustrious of their fellow|citizens 16 1.28. In the election of these magistrates, the people, during the reign of Augustus, were permitted to expose all the inconveniences of a wild democracy. That artful prince, instead of discovering the least symptom of impatience, humbly solicited their suffrages for himself or his friends, and scrupulously practised all the duties

of an ordinary candidate 17 1.29. But we may ven|ture to ascribe to his councils, the first measure of the succeeding reign, by which the elections were transferred to the senate 18 1.30. The assemblies of the people were for ever abolished, and the emperors were delivered from a dangerous mul|titude, who, without restoring liberty, might have disturbed, and perhaps endangered, the established government.

By declaring themselves the protectors of the * 1.31 people, Marius and Caesar had subverted the constitution of their country. But as soon as the senate had been humbled and disarmed, such an assembly, consisting of five or six hundred per|sons, was found a much more tractable and use|ful instrument of dominion. It was on the dig|nity of the senate, that Augustus and his suc|cessors founded their new empire; and they af|fected, on every occasion, to adopt the language and principles of Patricians. In the administra|tion of their own powers, they frequently con|sulted the great national council, and seemed to refer to its decision the most important concerns of peace and war. Rome, Italy, and the inter|nal provinces were subject to the immediate juris|diction of the senate. With regard to civil ob|jects,

it was the supreme court of appeal; with regard to criminal matters, a tribunal, constituted for the trial of all offences that were committed by men in any public station, or that affected the peace and majesty of the Roman people. The exercise of the judicial power became the most frequent and serious occupation of the senate; and the important causes that were pleaded be|fore them, afforded a last refuge to the spirit of ancient eloquence. As a council of state, and as a court of justice, the senate possessed very con|siderable prerogatives; but in its legislative ca|pacity, in which it was supposed virtually to represent the people, the rights of sovereignty were acknowledged to reside in that assembly. Every power was derived from their authority, every law was ratified by their sanction. Their regular meetings were held on three stated days in every month, the Calends, the Nones, and the Ides. The debates were conducted with decent freedom; and the emperors themselves, who gloried in the name of senators, sat, voted, and divided with their equals.

To resume, in a few words, the system of the * 1.32 Imperial government; as it was instituted by Augustus, and maintained by those princes who understood their own interest and that of the people, it may be defined an absolute monarchy disguised by the forms of a commonwealth. The masters of the Roman world surrounded their throne with darkness, concealed their irre|sistible strength, and humbly prosessed themselves

the accountable ministers of the senate, whose supreme decrees they dictated and obeyed 19 1.33.

The face of the court corresponded with the * 1.34 forms of the administration. The emperors, if we except those tyrants whose capricious folly violated every law of nature and decency, dif|dained that pomp and ceremony which might offend their countrymen, but could add nothing to their real power. In all the offices of life, they affected to confound themselves with their subjects, and maintained with them an equal in|tercourse of visits and entertainments. Their habit, their palace, their table, were suited only to the rank of an opulent senator. Their family, however numerous or splendid, was composed entirely of their domestic slaves and freedmen 20 1.35. Augustus or Trajan would have blushed at em|ploying the meanest of the Romans in those me|nial offices, which, in the household and bed|chamber of a limited monarch, are so eagerly solicited by the proudest nobles of Britain.

The deification of the emperors 21 1.36 is the only instance in which they departed from their accus|tomed prudence and modesty. The Asiatic * 1.37 Greeks were the first inventors, the successors of Alexander the first objects, of this servile and impious mode of adulation. It was easily trans|ferred from the kings to the governors of Asia; and the Roman magistrates very frequently were adored as provincial deities, with the pomp of altars and temples, of festivals and sacrifices 22 1.38. It was natural that the emperors should not re|fuse what the proconsuls had accepted; and the divine honours which both the one and the other received from the provinces, attested rather the despotism than the servitude of Rome. But the conquerors soon imitated the vanquished nations in the arts of flattery; and the imperious spirit of the first Caesar too easily consented to assume, during his life-time, a place among the tutelar deities of Rome. The milder temper of his suc|cessor declined so dangerous an ambition, which was never afterwards revived, except by the madness of Caligula and Domitian. Augustus permitted indeed some of the provincial cities to erect temples to his honour, on condition that they should associate the worship of Rome with that of the sovereign; he tolerated private super|stition,

of which he might be the object 23 1.39; but he contented himself with being revered by the senate and people in his human character, and wisely left to his successor, the care of his public deification. A regular custom was introduced, that on the decease of every emperor who had neither lived nor died like a tyrant, the senate by a solemn decree should place him in the number of the gods: and the ceremonies of his Apo|theosis were blended with those of his funeral. This legal, and, as it should seem, injudicious profanation, so abhorrent to our stricter prin|ciples, was received with a very faint murmur 24 1.40, by the easy nature of Polytheism; but it was received as an institution, not of religion but of policy. We should disgrace the virtues of the Antonines, by comparing them with the vices of Hercules or Jupiter. Even the character of Caesar or Augustus were far superior to those of the popular deities. But it was the misfor|tune of the former to live in an enlightened age, and their actions were too faithfully recorded to admit of such a mixture of fable and mystery, as the devotion of the vulgar requires. As soon as their divinity was established by law, it sunk into oblivion, without contributing either to their own fame, or to the dignity of succeeding princes.

In the consideration of the Imperial govern|ment, we have frequently mentioned the artful founder, under his well-known title of Augustus, * 1.41 which was not however conferred upon him, till the edifice was almost completed. The obscure name of Octavianus, he derived from a mean family, in the little town of Aricia. It was stain|ed with the blood of the proscription; and he was desirous, had it been possible, to erase all memory of his former life. The illustrious sur|name of Caesar, he had assumed, as the adopted son of the dictator; but he had too much good sense, either to hope to be confounded, or to wish to be compared, with that extraordinary man. It was proposed in the senate, to dignify their minister with a new appellation: and after a very serious discussion, that of Augustus was chosen, among several others, as being the most expressive of the character of peace and sanctity, which he uniformly affected 25 1.42. Augustus was therefore a personal, Caesar a family distinction. The former should naturally have expired with the prince on whom it was bestowed; and how|ever the latter was diffused by adoption and fe|male alliance, Nero was the last prince who could allege any hereditary claim to the honours of the Julian line. But, at the time of his death, the practice of a century had inseparably connected those appellations with the Imperial dignity, and they have been preserved by a long succession of

emperors, Romans, Greeks, Franks, and Ger|mans, from the fall of the republic to the pre|sent time. A distinction was, however, soon introduced. The sacred title of Augustus was always reserved for the monarch, whilst the name of Caesar was more freely communicated to his relations; and, from the reign of Hadrian, at least, was appropriated to the second person in the state, who was considered as the presumptive heir of the empire.

The tender respect of Augustus for a free con|stitution * 1.43 which he had destroyed, can only be explained by an attentive consideration of the character of that subtle tyrant. A cool head, an unfeeling heart, and a cowardly disposition, prompted him, at the age of nineteen, to assume the mask of hypocrisy, which he never afterwards laid aside. With the same hand, and probably with the same temper, he signed the proscription of Cicero, and the pardon of Cinna. His vir|tues, and even his vices, were artificial; and according to the various dictates of his interest, he was at first the enemy, and at last the father, of the Roman world 26 1.44. When he framed the artful system of the Imperial authority, his mo|deration was inspired by his fears. He wished to

deceive the people by an image of civil liberty, and the armies by an image of civil govern|ment.

I. The death of Caesar was ever before his * 1.45 eyes. He had lavished wealth and honours on his adherents; but the most favoured friends of his uncle were in the number of the conspirators. The fidelity of the legions might defend his authority against open rebellion; but their vigi|lance could not secure his person from the dag|ger of a determined republican; and the Romans, who revered the memory of Brutus 27 1.46, would ap|plaud the imitation of his virtue. Caesar had provoked his fate, as much by the ostentation of his power, as by his power itself. The consul or the tribune might have reigned in peace. The title of king had armed the Romans against his life. Augustus was sensible that mankind is governed by names; nor was he deceived in his expectation, that the senate and people would submit to slavery, provided they were respectfully assured, that they still enjoyed their ancient free|dom. A feeble senate and enervated people cheer|fully acquiesced in the pleasing illusion, as long as it was supported by the virtue, or even by the pru|dence, of the successors of Augustus. It was a motive of self-preservation, not a principle of liberty, that animated the conspirators against Caligula, Nero, and Domitian. They attacked

the person of the tyrant, without aiming their blow at the authority of the emperor.

There appears, indeed, one memorable occa|sion, * 1.47 in which the senate, after seventy years of patience, made an ineffectual attempt to reassume its long forgotten rights. When the throne was vacant by the murder of Caligula, the consuls convoked that assembly in the Capitol, condemn|ed the memory of the Caesars, gave the watch|word liberty to the few cohorts who faintly ad|hered to their standard, and during eight and forty hours acted as the independent chiefs of a free commonwealth. But while they deliberated, the Praetorian guards had resolved. The stupid Claudius, brother of Germanicus, was already in their camp, invested with the Imperial purple, and prepared to support his election by arms. The dream of liberty was at an end; and the senate awoke to all the horrors of inevitable ser|vitude. Deserted by the people, and threatened by a military force, that feeble assembly was compelled to ratify the choice of the Praetorians, and to embrace the benefit of an amnesty, which Claudius had the prudence to offer, and the ge|nerosity to observe 28 1.48.

II. The insolence of the armies inspired Au|gustus * 1.49 with fears of a still more alarming nature. The despair of the citizens could only attempt, what the power of the soldiers was, at any time,

able to execute. How precarious was his own authority over men whom he had taught to vio|late every social duty! He had heard their se|ditious clamours; he dreaded their calmer mo|ments of reflection. One revolution had been purchased by immense rewards; but a second revolution might double those rewards. The troops professed the fondest attachment to the house of Caesar; but the attachments of the mul|titude are capricious and inconstant. Augustus summoned to his aid, whatever remained in those fierce minds, of Roman prejudices; enforced the rigour of discipline by the sanction of law; and interposing the majesty of the senate, between the emperor and the army, boldly claimed their alle|giance, as the first magistrate of the republic 29 1.50.

During a long period of two hundred and * 1.51 twenty years, from the establishment of this art|ful system to the death of Commodus, the dan|gers inherent to a military government were, in a great measure, suspended. The soldiers were seldom roused to that fatal sense of their own strength, and of the weakness of the civil autho|rity, which was, before and afterwards, produc|tive of such dreadful calamities. Caligula and Domitian were assassinated in their palace by their own domestics: the convulsions which agitated Rome on the death of the former, were confined to the walls of the city. But Nero involved the

whole empire in his ruin. In the space of eigh|teen months, four princes perished by the sword; and the Roman world was shaken by the fury of the contending armies. Excepting only this short, though violent, eruption of military li|cence, the two centuries from Augustus to Com|modus passed away unstained with civil blood, and undisturbed by revolutions. The emperor was elected by the authority of the senate, and the consent of the soldiers 30 1.52. The legions respected their oath of fidelity; and it requires a minute inspection of the Roman annals to discover three inconsiderable rebellions, which were all sup|pressed in a few months, and without even the hazard of a battle 31 1.53.

In elective monarchies, the vacancy of the * 1.54 throne is a moment big with danger and mischief. The Roman emperors, desirous to spare the le|gions that interval of suspense, and the tempt|ation of an irregular choice, invested their de|signed successor with so large a share of present power, as should enable him, after their decease, to assume the remainder, without suffering the empire to perceive the change of masters. Thus

Augustus, after all his fairer prospects had been snatched from him by untimely deaths, rested his last hopes on Tiberius, obtained for his adopted * 1.55 son the censorial and tribunitian powers, and dictated a law, by which the future prince was invested with an authority equal to his own, over the provinces and the armies 32 1.56. Thus Vespa|sian * 1.57 subdued the generous mind of his eldest son. Titus was adored by the eastern legions, which, under his command, had recently atchieved the conquest of Judaea. His power was dreaded, and, as his virtues were clouded by the intem|perance of youth, his designs were suspected. Instead of listening to such unworthy suspicions, the prudent monarch associated Titus to the full powers of the Imperial dignity; and the grate|ful son ever approved himself the humble and faithful minister of so indulgent a father 33 1.58.

The good sense of Vespasian engaged him in|deed * 1.59 to embrace every measure that might con|firm his recent and precarious elevation. The military oath, and the fidelity of the troops, had been consecrated, by the habits of an hundred years, to the name and family of the Caesars: and although that family had been continued only by the fictitious rite of adoption, the Ro|mans still revered, in the person of Nero, the grandson of Germanicus, and the lineal successor of Augustus. It was not without reluctance and remorse, that the Praetorian guards had been

persuaded to abandon the cause of the tyrant 34 1.60. The rapid downfal of Galba, Otho, and Vitellius, taught the armies to consider the emperors as the creatures of their will, and the instruments of their licence. The birth of Vespasian was mean; his grandfather had been a private soldier, his father a petty officer of the revenue 35 1.61; his own merit had raised him, in an advanced age, to the empire; but his merit was rather useful than shining, and his virtues were disgraced by a strict and even forbid parsimony. Such a prince con|sulted his true interest by the association of a son, whose more splendid and amiable character might turn the public attention, from the obscure ori|gin, to the future glories of the Flavian house. Under the mild administration of Titus, the Roman world enjoyed a transient felicity, and his beloved memory served to protect, above fifteen years, the vices of his brother Domitian.

Nerva had scarcely accepted the purple from * 1.62 the assassins of Domitian, before he discovered * 1.63 that his feeble age was unable to stem the tor|rent of public disorders, which had multiplied under the long tyranny of his predecessor. His mild disposition was respected by the good; but the degenerate Romans required a more vigorous character, whose justice should strike terror into the guilty. Though he had several relations, he

fixed his choice on a stranger. He adopted Tra|jan, then about forty years of age, and who com|manded a powerful army in the Lower Germany; and immediately, by a decree of the senate, de|clared him his colleague and successor in the empire 36 1.64. It is sincerely to be lamented, that * 1.65 whilst we are fatigued with the disgustful relation of Nero's crimes and follies, we are reduced to collect the actions of Trajan from the glimmer|ings of an abridgment, or the doubtful light of a panegyric. There remains, however, one pa|negyric far removed beyond the suspicion of flat|tery. Above two hundred and fifty years after the death of Trajan, the senate, in pouring out the customary acclamations on the accession of a new emperor, wished that he might surpass the felicity of Augustus, and the virtue of Tra|jan 37 1.66.

We may readily believe, that the father of his * 1.67 country hesitated whether he ought to intrust the * 1.68 various and doubtful character of his kinsman Hadrian with sovereign power. In his last mo|ments, the arts of the empress Plotina either fixed the irresolution of Trajan, or boldly sup|posed a fictitious adoption 38 1.69; the truth of which could not be safely disputed, and Hadrian was

peaceably acknowledged as his lawful successor. Under his reign, as has been already mentioned, the empire flourished in peace and prosperity. He encouraged the arts, reformed the laws, as|serted military discipline, and visited all his provinces in person. His vast and active genius was equally suited to the most enlarged views, and the minute details of civil policy. But the ruling passions of his soul were curiosity and va|nity. As they prevailed, and as they were at|tracted by different objects, Hadrian was, by turns, an excellent prince, a ridiculous sophist, and a jealous tyrant. The general tenor of his conduct deserved praise for its equity and mode|ration. Yet in the first days of his reign, he put to death four consular senators, his personal ene|mies, and men who had been judged worthy of empire; and the tediousness of a painful illness rendered him, at last, peevish and cruel. The senate doubted whether they should pronounce him a god or a tyrant; and the honours decreed to his memory were granted to the prayers of the pious Antoninus 39 1.70.

The caprice of Hadrian influenced his choice * 1.71 of a successor. After revolving in his mind se|veral men of distinguished merit, whom he esteemed and hated, he adopted Aelius Verus, a gay and voluptuous nobleman, recommended by uncommon beauty to the lover of Antinous 40 1.72.

But while Hadrian was delighting himself with his own applause, and the acclamations of the soldiers, whose consent had been secured by an immense donative, the new Caesar 41 1.73 was ravished from his embraces by an untimely death. He left only one son. Hadrian commended the boy to the gratitude of the Antonines. He was adopted by Pius; and, on the accession of Mar|cus, was invested with an equal share of sove|reign power. Among the many vices of this younger Verus, he possessed one virtue; a duti|ful reverence for his wiser colleague, to whom he willingly abandoned the ruder cares of em|pire. The philosophic emperor dissembled his follies, lamented his early death, and cast a de|cent veil over his memory.

As soon as Hadrian's passion was either grati|fied * 1.74 or disappointed, he resolved to deserve the thanks of posterity, by placing the most exalted merit on the Roman throne. His discerning eye easily discovered a senator about fifty years of age, blameless in all the offices of life, and a youth of about seventeen, whose riper years opened the fair prospect of every virtue: the elder of these was declared the son and successor of Hadrian, on condition, however, that he him|self should immediately adopt the younger. The two Antonines (for it is of them that we are now speaking) governed the Roman world forty-two * 1.75

years, with the same invariable spirit of wisdom and virtue. Although Pius had two sons 42 1.76, he preferred the welfare of Rome to the interest of his family, gave his daughter Faustina in mar|riage to young Marcus, obtained from the se|nate the tribunitian and proconsular powers, and with a noble disdain, or rather ignorance of jea|lousy, associated him to all the labours of go|vernment. Marcus, on the other hand, revered the character of his benefactor, loved him as a parent, obeyed him as his sovereign 43 1.77, and, af|ter he was no more, regulated his own admini|stration by the example and maxims of his pre|decessor. Their united reigns are possibly the only period of history in which the happiness of a great people was the sole object of govern|ment.

Titus Antoninus Pius has been justly deno|minated * 1.78 a second Numa. The same love of re|ligion, justice, and peace, was the distinguishing characteristic of both princes. But the situation of the latter opened a much larger field for the exercise of those virtues. Numa could only prevent a few neighbouring villages from plun|dering each other's harvests. Antoninus diffused order and tranquillity over the greatest part of the earth. His reign is marked by the rare ad|vantage of furnishing very few materials for his|tory; which is, indeed, little more than the

register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind. In private life, he was an amia|ble, as well as a good man. The native sim|plicity of his virtue was a stranger to vanity or affectation. He enjoyed with moderation, the conveniencies of his fortune, and the innocent pleasures of society 44 1.79; and the benevolence of his soul displayed itself in a cheerful serenity of tem|per.

The virtue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was * 1.80 of a severer and more laborious kind 45 1.81. It was the well-earned harvest of many a learned con|ference, of many a patient lecture, and many a midnight lucubration. At the age of twelve years he embraced the rigid system of the Stoicks, which taught him to submit his body to his mind, his passions to his reason; to consider vir|tue as the only good, vice as the only evil, all things external, as things indifferent 46 1.82. His

meditations, composed in the tumult of a camp, are still extant; and he even condescended to give lessons of philosophy, in a more public manner, than was perhaps consistent with the modesty of a sage, or the dignity of an empe|ror 47 1.83. But his life was the noblest commentary on the precepts of Zeno. He was severe to him|self, indulgent to the imperfection of others, just and beneficent to all mankind. He regret|ted that Avidius Cassius, who excited a rebellion in Syria, had disappointed him, by a voluntary death, of the pleasure of converting an enemy into a friend; and he justified the sincerity of that sentiment, by moderating the zeal of the senate against the adherents of the traitor 48 1.84. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of human nature; but when the necessity of a just defence called upon him to take up arms, he readily exposed his person to eight winter campaigns, on the frozen banks of the Danube, the severity of which was at last fatal to the weakness of his con|stitution. His memory was revered by a grate|ful posterity, and above a century after his death, many persons preserved the image of Marcus Antoninus, among those of their household gods 49 1.85.

If a man were called to fix the period in the * 1.86 history of the world, during which the condition of the human race was most happy and prosper|rous,

he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus. The vast extent of the Roman empire was governed by absolute power, under the guidance of virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gen|tle hand of four successive emperors, whose cha|racters and authority commanded involuntary respect. The forms of the civil administration were carefully preserved by Nerva, Trajan, Ha|drian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of liberty, and were pleased with consider|ing themselves as the accountable ministers of the laws. Such princes deserved the honour of re|storing the republic, had the Romans of their days been capable of enjoying a rational free|dom.

The labours of these monarchs were overpaid * 1.87 by the immense reward that inseparably waited on their success; by the honest pride of virtue, and by the exquisite delight of beholding the general happiness of which they were the authors. A just, but melancholy reflection embittered, however, the noblest of human enjoyments. They must often have recollected the instability of a happiness which depended on the character of a single man. The fatal moment was perhaps approaching, when some licentious youth, or some jealous tyrant, would abuse, to the destruc|tion, that absolute power, which they had ex|erted for the benefit of their people. The ideal restraints of the senate and the laws might serve

to display the virtues, but could never correct the vices, of the emperor. The military force was a blind and irresistible instrument of oppres|sion; and the corruption of Roman manners would always supply flatteres eager to applaud, and ministers prepared to serve, the fear or the avarice, the lust or the cruelty, of their masters.

These gloomy apprehensions had been already * 1.88 justified by the experience of the Romans. The annals of the emperors exhibit a strong and various picture of human nature, which we should vainly seek among the mixed and doubtful characters of modern history. In the conduct of those monarchs we may trace the utmost lines of vice and virtue; the most exalted perfection, and the meanest degeneracy of our own species. The golden age of Trajan and the Antonines had been preceded by an age of iron. It is almost super|fluous to enumerate the unworthy successors of Augustus. Their unparalleled vices, and the splendid theatre on which they were acted, have saved them from oblivion. The dark unrelent|ing Tiberius, the furious Caligula, the feeble Claudius, the profligate and cruel Nero, the beastly Vitellius 50 1.89, and the timid inhuman Do|mitian, are condemned to everlasting infamy.

During fourscore years (excepting only the short and doubtful respite of Vespasian's reign 51 1.90) Rome groaned beneath an unremitting tyranny, which exterminated the ancient families of the repub|lic, and was fatal to almost every virtue, and every talent, that arose in that unhappy period.

Under the reign of these monsters, the slavery * 1.91 of the Romans was accompanied with two pecu|liar circumstances, the one occasioned by their former liberty, the other by their extensive con|quests, which rendered their condition more com|pletely wretched than that of the victims of ty|ranny in any other age or country. From these causes were derived, 1. The exquisite sensibility of the sufferers; and, 2. the impossibility of escaping from the hand of the oppressor.

I. When Persia was governed by the descend|ants * 1.92 of Sefi, a race of princes, whose wanton cru|elty often stained their divan; their table, and their bed, with the blood of their favourites, there is a saying recorded of a young nobleman, That he never departed from the sultan's pre|sence, without satisfying himself whether his head was still on his shoulders. The experience of every day might almost justify the scepticism of Rustan 52 1.93. Yet the fatal sword, suspended above him by a single thread, seems not to have disturbed the slumbers, or interrupted the tran|quillity, of the Persian. The monarch's frown, he well knew, could level him with the dust;

but the stroke of lightning or apoplexy might be equally fatal; and it was the part of a wise man, to forget the inevitable calamities of human life in the enjoyment of the fleeting hour. He was dignified with the appellation of the king's slave; had, perhaps, been purchased from obscure pa|rents, in a country which he had never known; and was trained up from his infancy in the severe discipline of the seraglio 53 1.94. His name, his wealth, his honours, were the gift of a master, who might, without injustice, resume what he had bestowed. Rustan's knowledge, if he possessed any, could only serve to confirm his habits by prejudices. His language afforded not words for any form of government, except absolute monarchy. The history of the east informed him, that such had ever been the condition of mankind 54 1.95. The Koran, and the interpreters of that divine book, inculcated to him, that the sultan was the de|scendant of the prophet, and the vicegerent of heaven; that patience was the first virtue of a Mussulman, and unlimited obedience the great duty of a subject.

The minds of the Romans were very differ|ently * 1.96 prepared for slavery. Oppressed beneath the weight of their own corruption and of mili|tary violence, they for a long while preserved the

sentiments, or at least the ideas, of their free|born ancestors. The education of Helvidius and Thrasea, of Tacitus and Pliny, was the same as that of Cato and Cicero. From Grecian phi|losophy, they had imbibed the justest and most liberal notions of the dignity of human nature, and the origin of civil society. The history of their own country had taught them to revere a free, a virtuous, and a victorious commonwealth; to abhor the successful crimes of Caesar and Au|gustus; and inwardly to despise those tyrants whom they adored with the most abject flattery. As magistrates and senators, they were admitted into the great council, which had once dictated laws to the earth, whose name still gave a sanc|tion to the acts of the monarch, and whose au|thority was so often prostituted to the vilest pur|poses of tyranny. Tiberius, and those emperors who adopted his maxims, attempted to disguise their murders by the formalities of justice, and perhaps enjoyed a secret pleasure in rendering the senate their accomplice as well as their victim. By this assembly, the last of the Romans were condemned for imaginary crimes and real vir|tues. Their infamous accusers assumed the lan|guage of independent patriots, who arraigned a dangerous citizen before the tribunal of his coun|try; and the public service was rewarded by riches and honours 55 1.97. The servile judges pro|fessed

to assert the majesty of the commonwealth, violated in the person of its first magistrate 56 1.98, whose clemency they most applauded when they trembled the most at his inexorable and impend|ing cruelty 57 1.99. The tyrant beheld their baseness with just contempt, and encountered their secret sentiments of detestation with sincere and avowed hatred for the whole body of the senate.

II. The division of Europe into a number of * 1.100 independent states, connected, however, with each other, by the general resemblance of religion, language, and manners, is productive of the most beneficial consequences to the liberty of mankind. A modern tyrant, who should find no resistance either in his own breast, or in his people, would soon experience a gentle restraint from the example of his equals, the dread of present censure, the advice of his allies, and the apprehension of his enemies. The object of his displeasure, escaping from the narrow limits of

his dominions, would easily obtain, in a happier climate, a secure refuge, a new fortune adequate to his merit, the freedom of complaint, and per|haps the means of revenge. But the empire of the Romans filled the world, and when that empire fell into the hands of a single person, the world became a safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The slave of Imperial despotism, whe|ther he was condemned to drag his gilded chain in Rome and the senate, or to wear out a life of exile on the barren rock of Seriphus, or the fro|zen banks of the Danube, expected his fate in silent despair 58 1.101. To resist was fatal, and it was impossible to fly. On every side he was encom|passed with a vast extent of sea and land, which he could never hope to traverse without being discovered, seized, and restored to his irritated master. Beyond the frontiers, his anxious view could discover nothing, except the ocean, in|hospitable deserts, hostile tribes of barbarians, of fierce manners and unknown language, or de|pendent kings, who would gladly purchase the emperor's protection by the sacrifice of an ob|noxious fugitive 59 1.102.

Wherever you are, said

Cicero to the exiled Marcellus, remember that you are equally within the power of the con|queror 60 1.103.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Idea of a monarchy.
• * 1.2

  Situation of Augus|tus.
• 1 1.3

  Orosius, vi. 18.
• 2 1.4

  Julius Caesar introduced soldiers, strangers, and half-barbarians, into the senate (Sueton. in Caesar. c. 77, 80.). The abuse became still more scandalous after his death.
• * 1.5

  He re|forms the senate.
• 3 1.6

  Dion Cassius, l. iii. p. 693. Suetonius in August. c. 55.
• * 1.7

  Resigns his usurp|ed power.
• 4 1.8

  Dion (l. liii. p. 698.) gives us a prolix and bombast speech on this great occasion. I have borrowed from Suetonius and Tacitus the general language of Augustus.
• * 1.9

  Is prevail|ed upon to resume it under the title of Emperor or Gene|ral.
• 5 1.10

  Imperator (from which we have derived Emperor) signified under the republic no more than general, and was emphatically bestowed by the soldiers, when on the field of battle they proclaimed their vic|torious leader worthy of that title. When the Roman emperors as|sumed it in that sense, they placed it after their name, and marked how often they had taken it.
• 6 1.11

  Dion, l. liii. p. 703, &c.
• * 1.12

  Power of the Roman generals:
• 7 1.13

  Livy Epitom. l. xiv. Valer. Maxim. vi. 3.
• 8 1.14

  See in the viiith book of Livy, the conduct of Manlius Torqua|tus and Papirius Cursor. They violated the laws of nature and humanity, but they asserted those of military discipline; and the people, who abhorred the action, was obliged to respect the prin|ciple.
• 9 1.15

  By the lavish but unconstrained suffrages of the people, Pompey had obtained a military command scarcely inferior to that of Augus|tus. Among the extraordinary acts of power executed by the for|mer, we may remark the foundation of twenty-nine cities, and the distribution of three or four millions sterling to his troops. The ra|tification of his acts met with some opposition and delays in the senate. See Plutarch, Appian, Dion Cassius, and the first book of the epistles to Atticus.
• * 1.16

  Lieute|nants of the empe|ror.
• 10 1.17

  Under the commonwealth, a triumph could only be claimed by the general, who was authorised to take the Auspices in the name of the people. By an exact consequence drawn from this principle of policy and religion, the triumph was reserved to the emperor; and his most successful lieutenants were satisfied with some marks of distinction, which, under the name of triumphal honours, were invented in their favour.
• * 1.18

  Division of the pro|vinces be|tween the emperor and the se|nate.
• * 1.19

  The for|mer pre|serves his military command, and guards in Rome itself.
• * 1.20

  Consular and tribu|nitian powers.
• 11 1.21

  Cicero (de Legibus, iii. 3.) gives the consular office the name of Regia potestas: and Polybius (l. vi. c. 3.) observes three powers in the Roman constitution. The monarchical was represented and ex|ercised by the Consuls.
• 12 1.22

  As the tribunitian power (distinct from the annual office) was first invented for the dictator Caesar (Dion, l. xliv. p. 384.), we may easily conceive, that it was given as a reward for having so nobly asserted, by arms, the sacred rights of the tribunes and people. See his own Commentaries, de Bell. Civil. l. i.
• 13 1.23

  Augustus exercised nine annual consulships without interrup|tion. He then most artfully refused that magistracy as well as the dictatorship, absented himself from Rome, and waited till the fatal effects of tumult and faction forced the senate to invest him with a perpetual consulship. Augustus, as well as his successors, affected, however, to conceal so invidious a title.
• * 1.24

  Imperial preroga|tives.
• 14 1.25

  See a fragment of a Decree of the Senate, conferring on the emperor Vespasian, all the powers granted to his predecessors, Au|gustus, Tiberius, and Claudius. This curious and important mo|nument is published in Gruter's Inscriptions, No. ccxlii.
• * 1.26

  The ma|gistrates.
• 15 1.27

  Two consuls were created on the Calends of January; but in the course of the year others were substituted in their places, till the annual number seems to have amounted to no less than twelve. The praetors were usually sixteen or eighteen (Lipsius in Excurs. D|ad Tacit. Annal. l. i.). I have not mentioned the Aediles or Quaestors. Officers of the police or revenue easily adapt themselves to any form of government. In the time of Nero, the tribunes legally possessed the right of intercession, though it might be dangerous to exercise it (Tacit. Annal. xvi. 26.). In the time of Trajan, it was doubtful whether the tribuneship was an office or a name (Plin. Epist. i. 23.).
• 16 1.28

  The tyrants themselves were ambitious of the consulship. The virtuous princes were moderate in the pursuit, and exact in the dis|charge of it. Trajan revived the ancient oath, and swore before the consul's tribunal, that he would observe the laws (Plin. Panegyric. c. 64.).
• 17 1.29

  Quoties Magistratuum Comitiis interesset. Tribus cum can|didatis suis circuibat: supplicabatque more solemni. Ferebat et ipse suffragium in tribubus, ut unus e populo. Suetonius in August, c. 56.
• 18 1.30

  Tum primum Comitia e campo ad patres translata sunt. Tacit. Annal. i. 15. The word primum seems to allude to some faint and unsuccessful efforts, which were made towards restoring them to the people.
• * 1.31

  The se|nate.
• * 1.32

  General idea of the Imperial system.
• 19 1.33

  Dion Cassius (l. liii. p. 703—714.) has given a very loose and partial sketch of the Imperial system. To illustrate and often to cor|rect him, I have meditated Tacitus, examined Suetonius, and con|sulted the following moderns: the Abbé de la Bleterie, in the Me|moires de l'Academie des Inscriptions, tom. xix. xxi. xxiv. xxv. xxvii. Beaufort, Republique Romaine, tom. i. p. 255—275. The Dissertations of Noodt and Gronovius, de lege Regia; printed at Ley|den, in the year 1731. Gravina de Imperio Romano, p. 479—544. of his Opuscula. Maffei Verona Illustrata, p. i. p. 245, &c.
• * 1.34

  Court of the empe|rors.
• 20 1.35

  A weak prince will always be governed by his domestics. The power of slaves aggravated the shame of the Romans; and the senate paid court to a Pallas or a Narcissus. There is a chance that a mo|dern favourite may be a gentleman.
• 21 1.36

  See a treatise of Vandale de Consecratione Principium. It would be easier for me to copy, than it has been to verify, the quota|tions of that learned Dutchman.
• * 1.37

  Deifica|tion.
• 22 1.38

  See a dissertation of the Abbé Mongault in the first volume of the Academy of Inscriptions.
• 23 1.39

  Jurandasque tuum per nomen ponimus aras says Horace to the emperor himself, and Horace was well acquainted with the court of Augustus.
• 24 1.40

  See Cicero in Philippic. i. 6. Julian in Caesaribus. Inque Deûm templis jurabit Roma per umbras, is the indignant expression of Lucan, but it is a patriotic, rather than a devout indignation.
• * 1.41

  Titles of Augustus and Caesar.
• 25 1.42

  Dion Cassius, l. liii. p. 710. with the curious Annotations of Reymar.
• * 1.43

  Character and policy of Augus|tus.
• 26 1.44

  As Octavianus advanced to the banquet of the Caesars, his colour changed like that of the Camelion; pale at first, then red, afterwards black, he at last assumed the mild livery of Venus and the graces (Caesars, p. 309.). This image employed by Julian, in his ingenious fiction, is just and elegant; but when he considers this change of character as real, and ascribes it to the power of philoso|phy, he does too much honour to philosophy, and to Octavianus.
• * 1.45

  Image of liberty for the people.
• 27 1.46

  Two centuries after the establishment of monarchy, the empe|ror Marcus Antoninus recommends the character of Brutus as a per|fect model of Roman virtue.
• * 1.47

  Attempt of the se|nate after the death of Caligu|la.
• 28 1.48

  It is much to be regretted, that we have lost the part of Tacitus, which treated of that transaction. We are forced to content ourselves with the popular rumours of Josephus, and the imperfect hints of Dion and Sueton.
• * 1.49

  Image of govern|ment for the armies.
• 29 1.50

  Augustus restored the ancient severity of discipline. After the civil wars, he dropped the endearing name of Fellow-Soldiers, and called them only Soldiers (Sueton. in August. c. 25.). See the use Tiberius made of the senate in the mutiny of the Pannonian legions (Tacit. Annal. i.).
• * 1.51

  Their obe|dience.
• 30 1.52

  These words seem to have been the constitutional language. See Tacit. Annal. xiii. 4.
• 31 1.53

  The first was Camillus Scribonianus, who took up arms in Dalmatia against Claudius, and was deserted by his own troops in five days. The second, L. Antonius, in Germany, who rebelled against Domitian; and the third, Avidius Cassius, in the reign of M. Antoninus. The two last reigned but a few months, and were cut off by their own adherents. We may observe, that both Ca|millus and Cassius coloured their ambition with the design of restor|ing the republic; a task, said Cassius, peculiarly reserved for his name and family.
• * 1.54

  Designa|tion of a successor.
• * 1.55

  Of Tibe|rius.
• 32 1.56

  Velleius Paterculus, l. ii. c. 121. Sueton. in Tiber. c. 20.
• * 1.57

  Of Titus.
• 33 1.58

  Sueton. in Tit. c. 6. Plin. in Praefat. Hist. Natur.
• * 1.59

  The race of the Cae|sars and the Flavi|an family.
• 34 1.60

  This idea is frequently and strongly inculcated by Tacitus. See Hist. i. 5. 16. ii. 76.
• 35 1.61

  The emperor Vespasian, with his usual good sense, laughed at the Genealogists, who deduced his family from Flavius, the founder of Reate (his native country), and one of the companions of Her|cules. Suet. in Vespasian. c. 12.
• * 1.62

  A. D. 96.
• * 1.63

  Adoption and cha|racter of Trajan.
• 36 1.64

  Dion, l. lxviii. p. 1121. Plin. Secund. in Panegyric.
• * 1.65

  A. D. 98.
• 37 1.66

  Felicior Augusto, MELIOR TRAJANO. Eutrop. viii. 5.
• * 1.67

  A. D. 117.
• * 1.68

  Of Hadri|an.
• 38 1.69

  Dion (l. lxix. p. 1249.) affirms the whole to have been a fiction, on the authority of his father, who being governor of the province where Trajan died, had very good opportunities of sifting this mys|terious transaction. Yet Dodwell (Praelect. Camden. xvii.) has maintained, that Hadrian was called to the certain hope of the em|pire, during the lifetime of Trajan.
• 39 1.70

  Dion (l. lxx. p. 1171.). Aurel. Victor.
• * 1.71

  Adoption of the el|der and younger Verus.
• 40 1.72

  The deification of Antinous, his medals, statues, temples, city, oracles, and constellation, are well known, and still dishonour the memory of Hadrian. Yet we may remark, that of the first fif|teen emperors, Claudius was the only one whose taste in love was entirely correct. For the honours of Antinous, see Spanheim, Com|mentaire sur les Caesars de Julien, p. 80.
• 41 1.73

  Hist. August. p. 13. Aurelius Victor in Epitom.
• * 1.74

  Adoption of the two Anto|nines.
• * 1.75

  A. D. 138.—180.
• 42 1.76

  Without the help of medals and inscriptions, we should be ignorant of this fact, so honourable to the memory of Pius.
• 43 1.77

  During the twenty-three years of Pius's reign, Marcus was only two nights absent from the palace, and even those were at dif|ferent times. Hist. August. p. 25.
• * 1.78

  Character and reign of Pius.
• 44 1.79

  He was fond of the theatre, and not insensible to the charms of the fair sex. Marcus Antoninus, i. 16. Hist. August. p. 20, 21. Julian in Caesar.
• * 1.80

  Of Mar|cus.
• 45 1.81

  The enemies of Marcus charged him with hypocrisy, and with a want of that simplicity which distinguished Pius and even Verus (Hist. August. 6. 34.). This suspicion, unjust as it was, may serve to account for the superior applause bestowed upon personal qualifi|cations, in preference to the social virtues. Even Marcus Anto|ninus has been called a hypocrite; but the wildest scepticism never insinuated that Caesar might possibly be a coward, or Tully a fool. Wit and valour are qualifications more easily ascertained, than hu|manity or the love of justice.
• 46 1.82

  Tacitus has characterized, in a few words, the principles of the portico: Doctores sapientiae secutus est, qui sola bona quae ho|nesta, mala tantum quae turpia; potentiam, nobilitatem, caeteraque extra animum, neque bonis neque malis adnumerant. Tacit. Hist. iv. 5.
• 47 1.83

  Before he went on the second expedition against the Germans, he read lectures of philosophy to the Roman people, during three days. He had already done the same in the cities of Greece and Asia. Hist. August. in Cassio. c. 3.
• 48 1.84

  Dion, l. lxxi. p. 1190. Hist. August. in Avid. Cassio.
• 49 1.85

  Hist. August. in Marc. Antonin. c. 18.
• * 1.86

  Happiness of the Ro|mans.
• * 1.87

  Its preca|rious na|ture.
• * 1.88

  Memory of Tiberi|us, Cali|gula, Ne|ro, and Domitian.
• 50 1.89

  Vitellius consumed in mere eating, at least six millions of our money, in about seven months. It is not easy to express his vices with dignity, or even decency. Tacitus fairly calls him a hog; but it is by substituting to a coarse word a very fine image.

  At Vitel|lius, umbraculis hortorum abditus, ut ignava animalia, quibus si cibum suggeras jacent torpentque, praeterita, instantia, futura, pari oblivione dimiserat. Atque illum nemore Arcino desidem et marcentem, &c.

  Tacit. Hist. iii. 36. ii. 95. Sueton. in Vitell. c. 13. Dion Cassius, l. lxv. p. 1062.
• 51 1.90

  The execution of Helvidius Priscus, and of the virtuous Epo|nina, disgraced the reign of Vespasian.
• * 1.91

  Peculiar misery of the Ro|mans un|der their tyrants.
• * 1.92

  Insensibi|lity of the Orientals.
• 52 1.93

  Voyage de Chardin en Perse, vol. iii. p. 293.
• 53 1.94

  The practice of raising slaves to the great offices of state is still more common among the Turks than among the Persians. The miserable countries of Georgia and Circassia supply rulers to the greatest part of the east.
• 54 1.95

  Chardin says, that European travellers have diffused among the Persians some ideas of the freedom and mildness of our governments. They have done them a very ill office.
• * 1.96

  Know|ledge and free spirit of the Ro|mans.
• 55 1.97

  They alleged the example of Scipio and Cato (Tacit. Annal. iii. 66.). Marcellus Epirus and Crispus Vibius had acquired two millions and a half under Nero. Their wealth, which aggravated their crimes, protected them under Vespasian. See Tacit. Hist. iv. 43. Dialog. de Orator. c. 8. For one accusation, Regulus, the just object of Pliny's satire, received from the senate the consular ornaments, and a present of sixty-thousand pounds.
• 56 1.98

  The crime of majesty was formerly a treasonable offence against the Roman people. As tribunes of the people, Augustus and Ti|berius applied it to their own persons, and extended it to an infinite attitude.
• 57 1.99

  After the virtuous and unfortunate widow of Germanicus had been put to death, Tiberius received the thanks of the senate for his clemency. She had not been publicly strangled; nor was the body drawn with a hook to the Gemoniae, where those of common malefactors were exposed. See Tacit. Annal. vi. 25. Sueton. in Tiberio, c. 53.
• * 1.100

  Extent of their em|pire left them no place of refuge.
• 58 1.101

  Seriphus was a small rocky island in the Aegean Sea, the inha|bitants of which were despised for their ignorance and obscurity. The place of Ovid's exile is well known, by his just, but unmanly lamentations. It should seem, that he only received an order to leave Rome in so many days, and to transport himself to Tomi. Guards and gaolers were unnecessary.
• 59 1.102

  Under Tiberius, a Roman knight attempted to fly to the Par|thians. He was stopt in the Streights of Sicily; but so little danger did there appear in the example, that the most jealous of tyrants dis|dained to punish it. Tacit. Annal. vi. 14.
• 60 1.103

  Cicero ad Familiares, iv. 7.