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diff --git a/78320-h/78320-h.htm b/78320-h/78320-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d50d56 --- /dev/null +++ b/78320-h/78320-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5048 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + The Emperor Marcus Aurelius | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; font-weight: normal; + clear: both; +} + + h2 {margin-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + + h3 {margin-top: 2em; font-weight: normal; text-align: center;} + +p { + margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; +} + + +.p11 {margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;} +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + + +.big2 {font-size: 130%; } +.big3 {font-size: 145%; } + + + + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +.small1 {font-size: 90%; } + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} + + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.allsmcap { +font-variant: small-caps; +font-style: normal; +text-transform: lowercase +} + +table.autotable { + margin-left: 30%; + margin-right: 30%; + width: 40%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker table.autotable { + + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + width: 60%; +} + +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 0.25em; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + + +blockquote { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + + +.caption {font-weight: normal;} +.caption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; } + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: 1px dashed; margin-top: 2em; } + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ + .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + + +/* Transcriber's notes */ + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: 1.5em; padding-top: 1.5em; + padding-left: 1.5em; padding-right: 1.5em; margin-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 4em; } + + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe50 {width: 50em;} +.illowe40_6250 {width: 40.6250em;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78320 ***</div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe50" id="cover"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="tapa"> +</figure> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="tnote"> + <p class="center p2 big2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>In the plain text version text in <em>italics</em> is enclosed by underscores +(_italics_) and <span class="smcap">small capitals</span> are represented in upper case as in SMALL +CAPS.</p> + +<p>A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated +variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used +has been kept.</p> + +<p>Obvious punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>The original cover art has been modified by the transcriber and is +granted to the public domain.</p> +</div> +</div> + + + +<div class="chapter"> +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> +</div> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<figure class="figcenter illowe40_6250" id="frontis"> + <img class="w100 p4" src="images/frontis.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p class="caption center">“He spoke to them of the vanity of life.” +<a href="#spoke"><em>Page 98.</em></a></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</div> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>The Emperor Marcus Aurelius</h1> + + +<p class="center big2">A STUDY IN IDEALS</p> + + +<p class="center">BY</p> + +<p class="center big3"> JOHN C. JOY, S.J.</p> + <br> + <br> + <p class="center">B. HERDER<br> + <small>17 SOUTH BROADWAY, ST. LOUIS, MO.<br> + CATHOLIC TRUTH SOCIETY OF IRELAND<br> + 24 UPPER O’CONNELL STREET, DUBLIN<br> + 1913</small></p> + + +</div> +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"> + μητρι<br> + ὑπομνήσεως χάριν<br> + ἀπαρχαί</p> + <br> + <br> + <p class="center p6"><em>Printed by</em> <span class="smcap">Browne and Nolan, Ltd.</span>, <em>Dublin</em>.</p> +</div> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + <p class="center p4 big2">CONTENTS </p> +</div> + + + +<div style="overflow-x:auto;"> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER I +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Prelude</span></td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER II +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">The Boy Stoic</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_11">11</a> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER III +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">A Philosopher on the Throne</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_30">30</a> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER IV +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">Life in the Palace</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_44">44</a> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER V +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">On the Danube</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_55">55</a> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER VI +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">The Book of Meditations</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_68">68</a> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER VII +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">Last Days in Rome</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_81">81</a> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER VIII +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +“<span class="smcap">The End of the Old World</span>” +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_95">95</a> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER IX +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">The Martyrs of Christ</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_106">106</a> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"> +CHAPTER X +</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<span class="smcap">The Pagan à Kempis</span> +</td> +<td class="tdr" style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><a href="#Page_128">128</a> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> + + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<div class="poetry-container p6 p11"> +<div class="poetry"><p> <em>Even in a palace, life may be led well!</em><br> + <em>So spake the imperial sage, purest of men,</em><br> + <em>Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den</em><br> + <em>Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell.</em><br> + <br> + <em>Our freedom for a little bread we sell,</em><br> + <em>And drudge under some foolish master’s ken</em><br> + <em>Who rates us if we peer outside our pen—</em><br> + <em>Matched with a palace, is not this a hell?</em><br> + <br> + <em>Even in a palace! On his truth sincere</em><br> + <em>Who spake these words, no shadow ever came</em><br> + <em>And when my ill-schooled spirit is aflame</em><br> + <br> + <em>Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win,</em><br> + <em>I’ll stop and say, “There were no succour here,</em><br> + <em>The aids to noble life are all within.”</em> +</p> +</div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p style="padding-left: 50%;"> <span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span> +</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + + + <P class="center big2 p2"> + The Emperor Marcus Aurelius + </p> +</div> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER I + <br> + <span class="small1">PRELUDE</span></h2> + + + +<p>“Marcus Aurelius is perhaps the most +beautiful figure in history. He is one of +those consoling and hope-inspiring marks +which stand for ever to remind our weak +and easily discouraged race how high +human goodness and perseverance have +once been carried and may be carried again. +The interest of mankind is peculiarly +attracted by examples of signal goodness +in high places; for that testimony to the +worth of goodness is the most striking which +is borne by those to whom all the means of +pleasure and self-indulgence lay open, by +those who had at their command the kingdoms +of the world and the glory of them. +Marcus Aurelius was the ruler of the grandest +of Empires and he was one of the best of +men. Besides him history presents one +or two other sovereigns eminent for their +goodness, such as Saint Louis and Alfred. +But Marcus Aurelius has for us Moderns +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span>this great superiority of interest over Saint +Louis or Alfred, that he lived and acted in +a state of society modern by its essential +characteristics, in an epoch akin to our own, +in a brilliant centre of civilisation. Trajan +talks of ‘our enlightened age’ just as +glibly as The <em>Times</em> talks of it. Marcus +Aurelius thus becomes for us a man like +ourselves, a man in all things tempted as +we are. Saint Louis inhabits an atmosphere +of medieval Catholicism which the +man of the nineteenth century may admire, +indeed, and passionately wish to inhabit, +but which, strive as he will, he cannot +really inhabit. Alfred belongs to a state +of society half barbarous. Neither Alfred +nor Saint Louis can be morally and intellectually +as near to us as Marcus Aurelius.”</p> + +<p>These are the words of a writer in the +highest degree representative of modern +thought—Matthew Arnold. As such they +will serve as a text for this study, and, I +hope, as a justification for including it +amongst the publications of the Catholic +Truth Society. They will be a text since +they touch on the points of greatest interest +in the life of Marcus Aurelius; his high +natural ideals; his fidelity in great part to +those ideals; the contrast thus presented +between him and his surroundings. This +quotation from such a writer will also +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span>perhaps justify the appearance of this study +in the good company of the C.T.S. catalogue, +since it proves the interest which this +pagan Emperor of Rome has for the men +of our own time, whatever their opinions. +For Christians there is the additional interest +afforded by the contrast between his ideals +and those of the martyrs—the ideals of +nature and those of grace. Incidentally, a +study of his life and age shows, as Mr. F. +H. Myers well points out, how futile are the +neo-pagan theories, so much in fashion in +our own times, of the self-sufficiency of +nature; and also, as Mr. Myers does not +point out, how essential for heroic virtue is +the indwelling of the Spirit of God, the +supernatural aid of grace.</p> + +<p>The life of Marcus Aurelius has had a +fascination for those in all ages who are +interested in the strivings of human nature +after the ideal—and these are, I suppose, +most men of culture (<em>humani</em> the Romans +rightly called them). The early Christians +took the same interest in him which they +took in all the nobler pagans, in Plato and +in Socrates, in Vergil, Seneca, and Epictetus; +they praised his virtue and found in it a +spur to higher things. If unregenerate +nature could do so much, how ought not the +regenerate blush for their tepidity? This +was the sentiment also of that Cardinal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span>Barberini who translated the Meditations +which Marcus has left us. He dedicated +the translation to his own soul “in order +to make it redder than his purple at the +sight of the virtues of this gentile.” Marcus’ +contemporaries of all shades of opinion—Christians +no less than pagans—bore +testimony to the integrity of his life and, on +the whole, the wisdom and justice of his +rule. Long after his death his bust might +be found amongst the household gods all +over the Empire. In our own age when men +are losing hold of the supernatural and trying +to live without it, the high attainments of +a mere pagan are held up for admiration. +Dilettanti are in love with a moral code +which brings with it no shocking sanctions; +a generation sick unto death with scepticism +seeks peace in an undogmatic philosophy of +life: but it is all oil and no wine; therefore +it heals not.</p> + +<p>Yet honour where honour is due; we +have no wish to detract from the greatness +of the good Emperor—a greatness which is +only realised by contrast with the surroundings +in which he lived.</p> + +<p>Rome, when Marcus came to rule over it, +was the centre of a vast Empire and no +capital has ever surpassed it in immorality. +It had all the viciousness of Paris without +its grace, the gross materialism of London +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span>enhanced by a system of slavery which +brutalised master as well as slave, and all +this joined to the superstition of Pekin. It +had not improved, but rather the reverse, +since St. Paul saw it delivered over to a +reprobate sense. It was the spoiled child +of its Empire. All Europe except Germany +and Russia owned its sway and ministered +to its desires; so did Asia Minor and Syria +as far East as the Euphrates; so too did +Egypt and the whole northern part of +Africa. The wealth of all these provinces +was borne by fleets of merchantmen to its +port of Ostia; and not of these alone but +the wealth also of India and China. But +besides wealth they gave her something +which she needed more: they gave her life. +She must long ago have perished of corruption, +did not the fresh pure blood of Britain, +Gaul and Spain come throbbing through +the Empire to give health to its diseased +heart. Only when the heart itself became +surcharged with corruption and poured its +foulness back into the system did the +Empire decay. But this was not yet. +More than two centuries had to pass after +the reign of Marcus Aurelius (<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 160-181) +before the final rot set in: such was the +strange vitality of that Empire, the greatest +the world has ever seen.</p> + +<p>From time to time the Emperors made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>desperate efforts to stem the rising tide of +immorality. As practical men they recognised +what Napoleon and even Voltaire +recognised, that there could be no morality +for the masses without religion; but they +did not realise so clearly that there could be +religion, especially pagan religion, without +morality. This was indeed what came about +in the second century, especially during the +reigns of Marcus Aurelius and his predecessor. +There was a great revival in +religion but no corresponding improvement +in morals. Nor was this strange. The gods +themselves were represented as grossly +immoral beings; religion was merely a +business transaction with them—a <em>quid +pro quo</em>—and under the code of honour +which too often marks such transactions. +Hence, if you safely could, it was quite the +thing to cheat the gods; you took your +chance, but the probability was that you +would get the worst of it, since the gods +were the more dexterous sharpers.</p> + +<p>Such were the old Græco-Roman gods; +but just at this time there was new and +better blood introduced into the Pantheon. +The gods of Egypt and the East—Mithra +and Isis—strange mystic deities, began to +be in high honour all over the Empire. In +these new cults there was much that was +higher and nobler than the old Roman religion—in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span> +every religion, as St. Augustine +says, there is something good and true—but +mixed with this good there was gross +immorality officially sanctioned.</p> + +<p>It is strange to think of Marcus as a +devotee of all these superstitions; yet such +he was. The intellectual and the cultured +usually were sceptical about the tales of +the gods; but few of them forbore paying +them the customary homage. They looked +on religion as a political and social duty +and went through its functions as such. +Marcus took the ceremonies more seriously +than did the usual Roman of high rank; +but even his faith in the old myths wavered. +He was content, however, not to pry into +high matters, and adopted the Stoic attitude +towards them. These philosophers interpreted +the legends, often by Procrustean +methods, to suit their own doctrine, but in +reality thought their truth or falsehood +of little practical importance. For them +the chief thing was to live a life of virtue, +relying on one’s own strength. He who +lived such a life they held to be better than +the gods; and in fact many of them did +lead admirable lives, as far as we can judge. +Their virtue, if mingled most frequently +with an unlovely and repellant pride, was +at all events a relief amidst the universal +corruption of pagan Rome.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span></p> + +<p>When we consider his pagan surroundings +we marvel at the virtue of Marcus Aurelius; +but, great as this was, Rome had now +something greater far. There were at this +time many silent figures who passed with +downcast eyes and modest mien through +her polluted streets; they met in strange +places and celebrated strange rites; they +did good to all; and all about them breathed +a purer air, a fragrance of Heaven unknown +before. These were they beside whose +God-given strength of soul the strugglings +of the Stoic Emperor were but the feeble +gropings of an infant. Christianity was fast +spreading over the Empire. Already the +Catacombs were extending in a maze of +net-work beside Rome. All was ready for +the greatest persecution the Church had +yet endured; this time it was to come from +the hands of the well-meaning but narrow +and unfortunate Marcus. In Rome itself +the Christians were multiplying fast; converts +were made amongst the nobility; +long before they had penetrated even into +“Cæsar’s household.” It was about this +time that Tertullian wrote his well-known +words: “We are but of yesterday and yet +we fill every place—your cities, your houses, +your fortresses, your <em>municipia</em>, councils, +camps, tribes, decurias, palace, senate, +forum; we leave you your temples.” And +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>he adds, in words in which we must allow +for rhetorical exaggeration: “Were we +to detach ourselves from you, you would be +scared by your solitude and by the silence, +which would be like that of a dead world.”</p> + +<p>Though Marcus must have known from +the police authorities the great numbers of +the Christians, he understood little of their +ideals. It is the tragedy of his noble life. +To quote Arnold again: “What an affinity +for Christianity had this persecutor of the +Christians! The effusion of Christianity, its +relieving tears, its happy self-sacrifice, were +the very element one feels for which his +spirit longed; they were near him, he touched +them, he passed them by.... What +would he have said to the Sermon on the +Mount? ... What would have become +of his notions of the <em>exitiabilis superstitio</em> +(the deadly superstition), of ‘the obstinacy +of the Christians’? Vain question! Yet +the greatest charm of Marcus Aurelius is +that he makes us ask it. We see him wise, +just, self-governed, tender, thankful, blameless; +yet with all this agitated, stretching +out his arms for something beyond, <em>tendentemque +manus ripae ulterioris amore</em>.”</p> + +<p>Of the details of the external life of Marcus +Aurelius we know very little. It is his +internal life which interests us most, and +that is recorded for us by his own hand in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>his book of Meditations. They are notes, +meant probably for no eyes but his own, +of his efforts after virtue—the record of his +soul. That the ruler of the Roman Empire +should have thought such thoughts and, +in great part, lived up to them; that at the +same time he, who represented the best +that paganism could produce, should have +fallen far short of the heroism shown by +Christian slave-girls; that his life and +meditations prove in the concrete how vast +is the gulf between the natural and the +supernatural: in these facts lie the various +fascinations which the Emperor Marcus +Aurelius has had for Pagan and Christian, +for Atheist and Theist, for the Positivist, +who would fain be rid of the supernatural, +and the Mystic for whom the supernatural +is everything.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><em>The author desires once for all to acknowledge his debt +to numerous writers dealing with the life and period of +Marcus Aurelius. It is hardly necessary to mention the +names of Dill, Pater, and Renan.</em></p> +</blockquote> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER II + <br> + <span class="small1">THE BOY STOIC</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Annius Verus, known to the world by his +adopted name as the Emperor Marcus +Aurelius, was born at Rome in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 121. +His father, also Annius Verus, was descended +from a Spanish family which a few generations +before had settled in Rome. Of him +we know little; but what we do know is +favourable. Marcus tells us that “from +his reputation and remembrance” he +learned “modesty and a manly character.” +His mother’s memory he always recalled +with veneration and love. She it was that +taught him “piety and beneficence and +abstinence not only from evil deeds but +even from evil thoughts; and, further, simplicity +in my way of living far removed +from the habits of the rich.”</p> + +<p>When Marcus was born the reigning +Emperor was Hadrian. Hadrian was himself +a Spaniard and inclined to favour those +of Spanish descent. Thus the family of +Annius Verus came into prominence; and +before Marcus was yet more than eight +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>years of age the Emperor took a special +interest in him.</p> + +<p>The boy even at this early age was not +quite as the other children who passed to +and fro in the Imperial palace. All through +life his health was imperfect; yet even as +a child he had begun to practise the Stoic +austerities. He slept on a plank bed and +was abstemious at table, and only at his +mother’s request did he relax these practices. +His biographer tells us that “he was grave +from his first infancy.” In later years he +himself thanked the gods “that he had +never been hurried into any offence against +them,” though, with his wonted candour, +he adds, that he “had the disposition, +which, if opportunity had offered, might +have led him to do something of the kind; +but, through their favour, there never was +such a concurrence of circumstances as put +me to the trial.” The candour of the child +was so transparent that Hadrian used to +call him not <em>Verus</em> (true) but <em>Verissimus</em> +(exceedingly true).</p> + +<p>It was not strange that Hadrian should +have been interested in this grave, pensive, +unworldly child. He was a keen observer +of human nature, and regarded with curiosity +and a certain reverence a character +so superior to its surroundings and withal +the very antithesis of his own. He himself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>was a strange mixture of the Greek and the +Roman. Roman in his legislative and +administrative ability, he was Greek and +modern in his love of novelty, his eager +curiosity, his frivolous attitude towards +life’s greatest problems—the problems of +God and the soul. This last aspect of his +character is enshrined for ever in his dying +address to his soul:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container p11"> +<div class="poetry"> +<p> + Animula, vagula, blandula,<br> + Hospes comesque corporis,<br> + Quae nunc abibis in loca;<br> + Pallidula, rigida, nudula—<br> + Nec, ut soles, dabis iocos? +</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p>which Merivale thus translates,</p> + +<div class="poetry-container p11"> +<div class="poetry"> +<p> + “Soul of mine, pretty one, flitting one,<br> + Guest and partner of my clay,<br> + Whither wilt thou hie away;<br> + Pallid one, rigid one, naked one—<br> + Never to play again, never to play.” +</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Candour, simplicity, purity, gravity: +these were the old Roman virtues of the +days of Cato; but they were little in fashion +in the heyday of the Empire. However, they +were interesting as antiquities; and Hadrian +loved everything old because he was so +modern himself: they had the charm of the +<em>rus in urbe</em>, of innocence in high life, and were +grateful to one who loved freshness; and +so, while he was in Rome, Hadrian always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>had the boy near him. Hadrian and Marcus; +the agnostic and the devotee; the lover +of life and the boy Stoic; Greek frivolity +and Roman <em>gravitas</em>: it is an interesting +contrast.</p> + +<p>Already Marcus had the ritual instinct +which marked him in later life and at the +age of eight Hadrian appointed him chief of +the College of Salii; a boy bishop of boy +priests devoted to Mars, the god of War. +In this office, in the early days of March, +he led the patrician youth in their religious +dances through the streets and presided at +the Saliarian banquets. He was scrupulously +exact in the fulfilment of these duties. +He already knew by heart the antiquated +formulas, couched in barbarous Latin, +whose meaning most men had forgotten. +In the complex ceremonies he never needed +a prompter; such was his knowledge of their +rubrics. In one of these rites the boys +threw chaplets at the head of a reclining +statue of Mars; but Marcus alone succeeded +in crowning the god. It was an omen of +the wars which later were to break in upon +his peace.</p> + +<p>At the age of eleven Marcus adopted the +<em>pallium</em> or cloak of the Stoics—thus consecrating +his life to divine philosophy. +Hadrian knew Greek and loved Greek +thoughts and Greek ways; he knew Plato +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>and Plato’s ideal—the Philosopher-King. +Here was an opportunity of realising the +ideal; why not make Marcus Emperor? +His fanciful mind would have a keen delight +in speculating on the future of the Empire +under such a rule. After me the deluge; +and he resolved to let posterity have the +benefit of the experiment, and lay the blame +or merit of the result not on him but on +Plato.</p> + +<p>He at first had adopted as his successor +Lucius Verus, the handsome and dissolute +father of the equally handsome and dissolute +Lucius Verus, who was afterwards +Marcus’ colleague as Emperor. But Lucius +died before Hadrian, and he then chose a +worthier successor. This was the best of +Senators—a Roman of Cato’s school but +free from the absurdities of that school—Antoninus +Pius.</p> + +<p>In making this second choice Hadrian provided +for the succession of the boy Marcus +in due time. He ordered Antoninus to +adopt as his sons and successors Marcus +and the younger Lucius Verus. Thus began +the lifelong attachment between Antoninus +and Marcus—the rulers of the Golden Age—the +most admirably virtuous, though far +from being the ablest of the Roman Emperors.</p> + +<p>Beyond these few facts about his early +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>boyhood scarcely anything has been handed +down to us of his doings till his seventeenth +year. What little we do know we owe to +the famous first book of his Meditations. +This he wrote one evening in his tent +“among the Quadi, at the Granua,” a +tributary of the Danube, during a lull in +the war against the barbarians of the North. +The troubles of his reign had made his later +years a martyrdom that sorely tried his +Stoic spirit, and on that evening his mind +sought rest in thinking of his childhood and +early youth. The book was written by +an invalid amidst strife and hate and hardship; +yet its ever-recurring note is the note +of gratitude struck on the chords of love. +He recalls with affection all who had been +good to him—good in the truest sense; +for they had moulded his soul to virtue.</p> + +<p>“To the gods,” he says, “I am indebted +for having good grandfathers, good parents, +a good sister, good teachers, good associates, +good kinsmen, and friends, nearly everything +good.” From the example or precept +of each he learned some special virtue: +from his grandfather Verus “good morals +and the government of my temper”; from +his director “to be neither of the green nor +of the blue party at the games in the circus, +not a partisan either of the Palmularius or +the Scutarius at the gladiators’ fights; to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>endure labour and to want little; to work +with my own hands, and not to meddle with +other people’s affairs, and not to be ready to +listen to slander.” Luxury, divorce, and +slavery by this time had brought Roman +family life to its lowest ebb of morality, and +it is pleasing to find the harder and purer +ideals of older times still honoured in at least +some of the nobler households.</p> + +<p>Marcus was educated altogether by +private teachers in his own home; he +did not attend the public schools—a fact +which he recalls with gratitude; and he had +reason to be grateful. These schools had +multiplied under the generous patronage of +the Emperors; no expense was spared in +securing for them the best possible teachers; +but in them the theory of virtue was acquired, +if acquired at all, at the cost of its +practice. The <em>pædagogus</em> or slave who +accompanied each boy to and from school +usually taught him a more insinuating and +acceptable code of morality than the Stoic +asceticism taught at times in the schools; +though some even of the teachers seem to +have vied with the slaves in the inculcation +of immorality; hence these schools were +hot-beds of vice and in ill-repute amongst +parents who had a care for their children’s +virtue. It is scarcely possible that the keen +edge of Marcus’ moral nature should not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>have been blunted in such surroundings; +even his passion for perfection could scarcely +have kept him unscathed. As it was, he +had the best teachers that could be procured, +mostly belonging to the Stoic School, and +in the first book of the Meditations he traces +his development under their direction:—</p> + +<p>“From Diognetus I learned not to busy +myself about trifling things, and not to give +credit to what was said by miracle-workers +and jugglers about incantations and the +driving away of demons and such things”—perhaps +an allusion to the Christians—“and +to have desired a plank bed and +whatever else of this kind belongs to the +Grecian discipline.” Rusticus, a famous +Stoic philosopher—the same who afterwards +as Prefect of Rome condemned St. +Justin to death,—taught him to avoid +sophistry, rhetoric, poetry, and fine-writing, +then much in fashion; “not to walk about +the house in my outdoor dress, nor to do +other things of that kind”; to shun vindictiveness; +to read deeply, not superficially; +and, greatest benefit of all, he made +him acquainted with the discourses of +Epictetus. These discourses henceforth +became his à Kempis and suggested the +writing of his own Meditations. Apollonius—the +most rigid of Stoics—impressed on +him the great Stoic virtue “to look at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>nothing else, not even for a moment, except +to reason; and to be always the same, in +sharp pains, on the occasion of the loss of a +child and in long illness.” This last sentence +is full of suppressed pathos in view of his +long life of ill-health and the early death of +most of his children. He seems to struggle +against the sense of the tears of things and +the mortal woes that touch even the Stoic +heart; but he is conscious that here at +least he is too much a man to be a sage; +for in his letters to Fronto we see the most +tender solicitude for his delicate children, +a mother’s anxiety as to every sign of their +declining or returning health.</p> + +<p>As Diognetus had taught him austerity; +Rusticus, sincerity; Apollonius, self-suppression; +so it was a grandson of Plutarch’s, +Sextus of Chaeronea, who taught him +affection. From Alexander the grammarian, +Fronto his tutor and intimate +friend, and Alexander the Platonic he learned +other graces of thought and manner out of +which was woven that inexplicable thing, +the character of the perfect gentleman, +Nature’s saint. Catulus, though a Stoic, +urged him “to love his children truly”; +Severus, “to love my kin, to love truth and +to love justice”; to know and honour the +Stoic heroes and martyrs, Thrasea, Helvidius, +Cato, Dion, Brutus; to have as his ideal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>“a polity administered with equal rights +and equal freedom of speech, and a kingly +government, which respects most of all the +freedom of the governed.” But of all +his teachers none can have had so beneficial +an effect on his too rigid nature as Maximus. +His character is that of the natural man at +his best.</p> + +<p>With Maximus he closes the list of his +teachers. His minute observation of their +characteristics, remembered through a +troubled life, paralleled only by the minuteness +of his self-analysis, testifies to his intense +desire for virtue. So intense indeed +was this desire that it became a moral disease +which to some extent paralysed his power +for action. But, despite its excess, we +must pay homage to this thirst of the soul, +this torture of the spirit, those</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> + “High instincts, before which our mortal nature<br> + Did tremble, like a guilty thing surprised.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Fully to slake that thirst, to alleviate that +torture, Marcus should have shared the +love-feasts of the Christians, the morning +sacrifices, the homilies and the ceremonies +of the Catacombs. But he knew not the +sublime secrets, the treasure, hidden beneath +the earth he daily trod.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> + +<p>Hadrian died in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 138, when Marcus +was seventeen years of age. Antoninus +Verus, better known as Antoninus Pius, +succeeded as Emperor, betrothed Marcus +to his beautiful daughter Faustina, and had +them both to live with him during the rest +of his life in the Imperial household. Henceforth +Marcus and Antoninus were bound by +the closest ties of friendship. Marcus revered +Antoninus with an almost superstitious +reverence. Antoninus’ word was law for +him, and afterwards in the rule of the +Empire he sought to avoid the least deviation +from his predecessor’s rule of action. +In this he was wise, if we are to judge by the +picture he himself has left us of Antoninus. +He says:—“In him I observed mildness of +temper, constancy and contempt of honours; +a love of labour and readiness to listen to +the advice of others; strict justice; a knowledge +of the time for vigorous action and for +remissness. He considered himself no more +than a citizen. His disposition was to keep +his friends, and not to be soon tired of them, +nor yet to be extravagant in his affection; +to be contented, cheerful and provident; +to shun flattery and display; to be watchful +over the affairs of the Empire and to be +economic in expenditure. In regard to the +gods, he avoided superstition; as to philosophy, +he was not a sophist or a pedant, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>honoured true philosophers; not however +reproaching pretended philosophers nor yet +being their dupe. In society he was easy +and agreeable and free from all petty +jealousy. After his paroxysms of headaches +he came immediately fresh and vigorous +to his usual occupations. His secrets were +not many but very few and very rare, and +these only about public matters. He was a +man who looked to what ought to be done, +not to the reputation which is got by a man’s +acts. That saying might be applied to him +which is recorded of Socrates, that he was +able both to abstain from and to enjoy those +things which many are too weak to abstain +from and cannot enjoy without excess. To +be strong both to bear the one and to be +sober in the other is the mark of a man who +has a perfect and invincible soul, such as he +showed in the illness of Maximus.”</p> + +<p>In many respects the character of Antoninus +was more admirable than that of his +successor, whose glory has eclipsed his. +He was an abler ruler because he was not +so good a Stoic. He had more of human +sympathy and a more varied interest in life +because he was not so much engrossed in +the study of his own soul. He was simple, +kind, and genial, whereas Marcus was cold, +reserved, self-conscious. As Renan says: +“Antoninus was a philosopher without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>boasting of it, almost without knowing it. +Marcus Aurelius was a philosopher of admirable +temperament and sincerity, but he was +a philosopher by reflection.” Of the two, +the more attractive is the philosopher by +nature, who knows not that he is so. The +philosopher by reflection is always a difficult +person and on occasion may be terrible. +Had Antoninus written a book of Meditations +they would probably have shown a +less thorough analysis of the human soul in +all its varying moods, a less gnawing desire +for perfection, but they would present a +character more pleasing to and imitable by +those whose ways are the ways of men and +not of the abstraction of a man—which is +what the Stoic “wise man” would be.</p> + +<p>Antoninus loved all the innocent pleasures +of life. But most of all he loved the joys of +rural life—the joys of sea and air and wood +and blue Italian sky, the ardour of the chase +and the mirth of the harvest home. He +lived most of his life in this simple way at +his villa at Lorium with his own household +and Marcus Aurelius. The letters of Marcus +to his tutor Fronto give us a vivid picture +of this life. When the correspondence +begins, Marcus was about eighteen years of +age. He writes during the vintage season:—</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Dearest Master</span>,—I am well. To-day +I studied from three till eight in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>morning after taking food. I then put on +my slippers, and from eight till nine had a +most enjoyable walk up and down before +my chamber. Then, booted and cloaked—for +so we were commanded to appear—I +went to wait upon my lord the Emperor. +We went a-hunting, did doughty deeds, +heard a rumour that boars had been caught, +but there was nothing to be seen. However, +we climbed a pretty steep hill and in the +afternoon returned home. I went straight +to my books. Off with my boots, down with +my cloak! I spent a couple of hours in bed. +I read Cato’s speech on the property of +Pulchra and another in which he impeaches +a tribune. Ho, ho! I hear you cry to your +man, off with you as fast as you can and +bring me those speeches from the library +of Apollo. No use to send; I have these +books with me too. You must get round the +Tiberian librarian; you will have to spend +something on the matter; and when I +return to town I shall expect to go shares +with him. Well, after reading those speeches, +I wrote a wretched trifle destined for drowning +or burning. No, indeed, my attempt at +writing did not come off at all to-day; the +composition of a hunter or a vintager whose +shouts are echoing through my chamber, +hateful and wearisome as the law-courts. +What have I said? Yes, it was rightly said, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>for my master is an orator. I think I have +caught a cold, whether from walking in +slippers or from writing badly, I do not +know. I am always annoyed with phlegm, +but to-day more than usual. Well, I will +pour oil on my head and go off to sleep. +I don’t mean to put one drop in my lamp +to-day, so weary am I from riding and +sneezing. Farewell, dearest and most +beloved master, whom I miss, I may say, +more than Rome itself.”</p> + +<p>I shall have so much to say of the virtue +of Marcus Aurelius, and it is such a rare +thing to get a saint or an emperor off his +guard, putting on his slippers, grumbling +at the noise outside his windows or catching +a cold and sneezing—though I am sure they +do those things—that I cannot refrain from +quoting another letter; it tells us more +about this cold, and is the only place in +literature, as far as I know, where it is +recorded that a philosopher, a saint, or an +emperor took a bath and snored. He +writes to Fronto:—</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Beloved Master</span>,—I am well. I +slept a little more than usual on account +of my slight cold, which seems to be well +again. So I spent my time from five till +nine in the morning partly in reading +Cato’s agriculture, partly in writing, not +quite so badly as yesterday indeed. Then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>after waiting upon my father I soothed my +throat with honey-water, ejecting it without +swallowing. Then I attended my father as +he offered sacrifice. Then to breakfast. +What do you think I ate? Only a little +bread, though I saw others devouring +beans, onions, and sardines! Then we went +out to the vintage and got hot and merry, +but left a few grapes still hanging, as the +old poet says, ‘atop on the topmost +bough.’ At noon we got home again; I +worked a little but it was not much good. +Then I chatted a long time with my mother +as she sat on her bed. My conversation +consisted of, ‘What do you suppose my +Fronto is doing at this moment?’ to which +she answered, ‘and my Gratia, what is +she doing?’ and then I, ‘and our little +darling, the younger Gratia?’ And while +we were talking and quarrelling as to which +of us loved all of you best, the gong sounded, +which meant that father had gone across +to the bath. So we bathed, and dined in +the oilpress room. I don’t mean that we +bathed in the press room; but we bathed +and then dined and amused ourselves with +listening to the peasants’ banter. And +now that I am in my own room again, +before I roll over and snore, I am fulfilling +my promise and giving an account of my +day to my dear tutor; and if I could love +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>him better than I do, I would consent to +miss him even more than I miss him now. +Take care of yourself, my best and dearest +Fronto, wherever you are. The fact is that +I love you, and you are far away.”</p> + +<p>So far we have seen only the edifying—almost +priggish—side of Marcus’ character. +The monotony of his perfection is relieved +by the following incident, which shows that +at this time he had just enough mischief in +him—though it be but little—to make him +amiable. He writes:—“When my father +returned home from the vineyards, I +mounted my horse as usual, and rode on +ahead some little way. On the road was +a herd of sheep, standing crowded together +as though the place were a desert, with +four dogs and two shepherds but nothing +else. Then one shepherd said to another +on seeing the horsemen: ‘I say, look at +these horsemen; they do a deal of robbery.’ +On hearing this, I clap spurs to my horse and +ride straight for the sheep. They scatter +in consternation—hither and thither they +are fleeting and bleating. A shepherd +throws his fork and the fork falls on the +horseman who came next to me. We make +our escape.”</p> + +<p>Thus the days went happily at Lorium +in the companionship of Pius, itself “a +school of all the virtues.” For twenty-three +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>years Marcus studied in this school, but +like all good things this sweet discipleship +too had an end. In <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 161 Antoninus +died a death as peaceful as his life had been. +Feeling the end nigh he put his affairs in +order and commanded that the golden +statue of Fortune, the symbol of Empire, +which had ever to stand in the Emperor’s +state apartments, should be borne to +Marcus’ chamber. To the tribune on duty +he gave the password <em>Æquanimitas</em> (peace +of soul) as the watchword of the night,—the +night of his own soul; then turning +about, he seemed to fall asleep: his own +peaceful spirit had passed away; “κατ’ἰσὸν +ὑπνῷ μαλακωτάτῳ as if in gentlest sleep.”</p> + +<p>The sceptre passed into the hands of +Marcus, then forty years of age. For him +it was the beginning of sorrows. Æschylus +would have said that the gods were jealous +of his too great prosperity. In his private +life they were good to him on account of +his virtues, but it were unmeet that with +such virtues mortal man should join the +sovereignty of the world; for such a one +might justly claim more homage than the +questionable individuals who inhabited +Olympus with the title of “gods.” The +lot of men also had been too happy in the +Golden Age of the Antonines: it would +exceed all measure were Marcus, the ideal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>philosopher-king, to rule with such favour +from above as his predecessors had enjoyed. +So might Æschylus have prophesied truly +after the event, as is the way with moralists. +Thenceforth the glory of that age waned. +To the philosopher by nature had succeeded +the philosopher by reflection. We shall see +the result of the change.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER III + <br> + <span class="small1">A PHILOSOPHER ON THE THRONE</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Plato had said that the world would never +enjoy happiness until a philosopher should +become king or until a king should become +a philosopher. With the accession of Marcus +the rule of the philosopher-king was an +accomplished fact; according, to Gibbon, +“the happiness of the subject was the one +object of government,” and all the good +effects anticipated by Plato were brought +about. “If a man were called on,” says he, +“to fix the period in the history of the world +during which the condition of the human +race was most happy and prosperous, he +would, without hesitation, name that +which elapsed from the death of Domitian +to the accession of Commodus” (thus including +the reigns of Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, +Antoninus and Marcus Aurelius). +But later historians have reversed this +verdict on the Golden Age. They have +shown that the reign of Marcus Aurelius +was one of singular disasters to the State. +And indeed Marcus himself had no such +faith in the magical power of philosophy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>on the throne; he did not believe in the +possibility of realising the Ideal State. “Do +not,” he says, “expect Plato’s Republic: +but be content if the smallest thing goes on +well, and consider such an event to be no +small matter. For who can change men’s +principles? and without a change of principles +what else is there than the slavery of +men who groan while they pretend to obey? +Simple and modest is the work of philosophy. +Draw me not aside to insolence and pride.”</p> + +<p>But if Marcus despaired of establishing +the reign of Philosophy as the Queen of +Men, he, at any rate, secured the rule of the +Philosophers. Already under Antoninus +they had been in high honour; but under +Marcus they filled all the great offices of +State. Sophists and rhetoricians were +elevated to the senate, and became consuls +and proconsuls merely because they +preached renunciation and had been Marcus’ +tutors. He placed their images amongst +his household gods and their statues in the +forum and the senate-house. They were +rulers in the provinces, judges in the law-courts, +leaders in the senate. And on the +whole they acquitted themselves well; +though amongst their number there were +not a few impostors, long beards, asceticism +and rough cloaks became the fashion and +profitable. “His beard is worth ten +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>thousand sesterces to him,” was the remark +passed on one of them; “come, we shall +have to pay goats a salary next!” Marcus +distinguished between “true philosophers” +and “pretended philosophers,” and learnt +from Antoninus to esteem the former and +to show indulgence to the latter, yet “without +permitting himself to be their dupe.”</p> + +<p>When it got to court, Stoicism put away +its primitive roughness. “Plain living and +high thinking” became the accepted creed +among the brilliant society of which Faustina +was the centre and the exemplar; just +as now in England ritualism and “the Rome-ward +movement” become from time to +time the tone amongst elegant blue-stockings +of both sexes. But of course in Rome, +as in London, it would have been bad taste +to take seriously what was, with them, at +least, merely an interesting sentiment. +Society now turns out to hear the newest +preacher on the newest theology, or the +fashionable and good-looking preacher on +any or no theology. So, too, then; Faustina +and the Roman ladies came in all the glory +of flowered silk and rare jewels to the Temple +of Peace, there to hear Rusticus or Fronto, +or the Emperor Aurelius himself, lecturing +on the vanity of vanities, the shortness of +life, the blessedness of renunciation. Great +families had each its philosopher—a kind +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>of family chaplain; and the great ladies +came in their sedan chairs to consult their +philosophical director on the latest freaks +of their fancy.</p> + +<p>This interest in philosophy was partly the +cause, partly the effect, of a general movement +towards more humane views. The hard +pagan world was beginning to soften; and +this humanity was the greatest glory of the +Golden Age. The Stoics preached the brotherhood +of man, and sympathy with men, as +men. Hence charity too became part of the +Time-Spirit and showed itself in milder legislation +and in beneficent institutions. The +great ones of the world at last took notice +of the weak and the outcast; the stern rule +of might and the pitiless destruction of the +“unfit” at last yielded to altruistic sentiments. +The slave, the orphan, and woman +were no longer to be the prey of society.</p> + +<p>In his legislation in favour of the oppressed +Marcus Aurelius did but carry on +the work begun by Antoninus and his +excellent council of jurists. Their first care +was to make easier the lot of the slave. +Seneca had said: “All men, if you only go +back to their beginnings, have the gods for +their fathers”; and Epictetus: “The slave +like you is the son of Zeus”; and it was in +this spirit of reverence for his fellow-man as +his brother and his equal that Marcus +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>sought to confer on him, in addition to a +theoretical fraternity and equality, the +third of the trinity—freedom. The master +was no longer allowed absolute power of life +and death over his slaves; the slave was +recognised as having rights; and enfranchisement +was encouraged. As the condition +of the slave, so too that of women and +orphans was improved. The inhuman +position of woman under old Roman law, +by which she was practically excluded from +recognition as a member of the family, was +altered by laws conferring on her rights of +property; while orphans were provided for +by numerous charitable institutions.</p> + +<p>The first of these institutions endowed +by public funds had been founded by the +Emperors Nerva and Trajan. They were +multiplied and developed by Antoninus and +still further by Marcus. On the death of +the elder Faustina, Antoninus had founded +an institution for orphan girls—called the +<em>puellae Faustinianæ</em> (the little maidens of +Faustina); and on the death of the younger +Faustina, Marcus, faithful in this as in all +else to the example of Antoninus, founded a +similar orphanage. These charitable works +and many others he was enabled to carry +out by the large fortune, amounting to +twenty-two million pounds, which Antoninus +had bequeathed to him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + +<p>Yet all his financial policy was not so +wise. His good nature and easy-going +attitude towards money matters may have +been good Stoicism, but it was bad statesmanship. +On his accession he gave each +of the soldiers of the Praetorian guard a +largess of £160 and to the other soldiers a +proportional sum. He frequently distributed +free corn to the mob, and, towards +the end of his reign, remitted large debts +due to the Treasury; and ordered that in all +cases of prosecution on behalf of the treasury, +the benefit of the doubt was to be given +in favour of the defendant. This was all +very well while Antoninus’ legacy lasted; +but the season of leanness soon came, and +war and the plague left the public finances +in so desperate a condition that he had to +sell his own personal property and debase +the coinage.</p> + +<p>The result of this generosity had been to +make him the idol of the unthinking mob, +though we have every reason to believe +that this popularity was not sought for. +Of the wise man he says: “As to what any +man shall say or think about him or do +against him, he never even thinks of it, +being himself contented with these two +things: with acting justly in what he now +does, and being satisfied with what is now +assigned to him; and he lays aside all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>distracting and busy pursuits, and desires +nothing else than the straight course +through the law, and, by accomplishing the +straight course, to follow God.” He showed +his indifference to the praise of the groundlings +in a practical way in his legislation as +regards the games. He put restrictions +on the gladiatorial contests, and limited the +rates of allowance to the stage performers.</p> + +<p>In the eyes of the Roman people the +magnificence of the games and public shows +was the one test of munificence. Hence it +was something to have checked those degrading +spectacles, but here, as afterwards +in his persecution of the martyrs, he yielded +complaisance to conventional views. He +lacked the strength of will to enforce his +own ideals; and perhaps it was as well that +he recognised his deficiency and did not +attempt what was, for one of his calibre, +the impossible. On great occasions, to +please his colleague Lucius or his wife +Faustina, or in deference to the popular +wishes, he used to attend these shows in +state. But when he was present there was +to be no shedding of human blood, at any +rate by a fellow-man, though he seems to +have allowed the fights with the beasts. +Dion Cassius records this fact: “The +Emperor Marcus was so far from taking +delight in spectacles of bloodshed, that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>even the gladiators in Rome could not +obtain his inspection of their contests, +unless, like the wrestlers, they contended +without imminent risk; for he never allowed +the use of sharpened weapons, but universally +they fought before him with weapons +blunted.”</p> + +<p>He himself, even when presiding, took +little interest in the contests. He spent his +time in reading or writing or transacting +official business, giving audiences or signing +State papers, much to the disgust of the +populace. They hated such superior refinement +and would have preferred a sportsman +to a philosopher as their ruler. They looked +on the Emperor as a milksop, not altogether +without reason, though the right reason +was not their reason. He showed his contempt +for their opinions on one occasion +in a most emphatic manner. A lion, +trained by a slave to devour human beings, +acquitted himself so well in one of these +spectacles in the Emperor’s presence that +the whole amphitheatre rang with applause, +and on every side a shout was raised that +a slave who had served the people’s pleasures +so well, deserved freedom. The Emperor, +angered at the brutality which he could not +prevent, had averted his eyes, and now +replied, “The man has done nothing worthy +of liberty.” Another anecdote shows his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>care for even the most outcast of his subjects—those +whom the ordinary Roman valued +and heeded less than the beasts of burden. +He was present one day at an exhibition of +rope-dancing, when suddenly one of the +performers—a boy—missed his footing, fell +into the arena and was hurt. Thereupon +the Emperor ordered that nets and +mattresses should always be spread beneath +the rope-walkers.</p> + +<p>Despite these attempts—feeble they seem +and few—at amelioration and at instilling +a higher view of human nature, the amphitheatre +still remained “the great slaughter-house.” +When we look at Marcus’ statue +high in the Pantheon of the Positivists, we +must remember another figure, cold and +abstracted indeed, but thus all the more +convicted of feebleness, under the awning +and the perfume sprays and flowers of the +Roman amphitheatre looking on with impassive +tolerance at the spectacle of human +and animal suffering, the daily bread of the +most brutal of all populaces. True, he could +soothe his soul by a Stoic aphorism on the +nothingness of pain, or some other such +mockery of human misery—the necessary +refuge of those who had no certainty of a +larger hope. For mockery truly must any +solution of the problem of evil be, and vain +comfort, which was not written on Calvary. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>That Marcus could look on such suffering +unmoved; that he could order it for his +fellow-man when the turn of the Christians +came; this removes him from what Christians +look for in their leaders to the land of +Promise. It mattered little that he did not +take the delight and interest which Faustina, +seated by strange irony among the Vestal +Virgins, robed in all the magnificence which +the Via Nova could produce, took in her +favourite gladiators; or which Commodus, +the centre of the fastest group of young +Roman nobles, manifested at every thrust, +eager for the day when he himself could +enter the arena as Emperor and fight with +the beasts. The mere fact that he could +countenance such brutality condemns him +to the level of conventional mediocrity.</p> + +<p>As Pater says: “Those cruel amusements +were, certainly, the sin of blindness, +of deadness and stupidity.... Yes! +what was needed was the heart that would +make it impossible to witness all this; and +the future would be with the forces that +could beget a heart like that.... Surely +evil was a real thing, and the wise man +wanting in the sense of it, where not to have +been, by instinctive election, on the right +side was to have failed in life.”</p> + +<p>The humanity of the age, though unable +to effect any appreciable reform of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>amphitheatre, did much for the relief of the +sick. The great plague brought back from +the East by Lucius Verus and his troops +was ravaging the Empire. It has been compared +to the great plague of Athens, which +will live for ever in Thucydides’ vivid +phrases, and to the Black Death of the +14th century. Niebuhr says that it was a +disaster from which the old world never +recovered. Asia Minor, Greece, Italy, and +Gaul were darkened by its passing; and in +Rome itself, so Dio, a Roman senator, tells +us, two thousand men were buried every +day. A Golden Age! An age of peace and +happiness indeed! Rather an age whose +glory is that it was an age of hospitals, of +funeral clubs and orphanages; of relief of +suffering rather than freedom therefrom.</p> + +<p>The temples of Æsculapius, the god of +healing, had long been used as a kind of +hospital for the sick, but never before to +such an extent as in the Antonine age. +The priests of this god were initiated into a +secret medical lore. His temples could vie +with the great medieval monasteries in the +scenic beauty and salubrity of their surroundings. +The excellence of the climate, +the traditional lore, the healthy diet and more +healthy abstinence, the careful nursing and +the freshness and brightness of the surroundings, +were really efficacious remedies. Thus, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>those who laboured under any illness came +far and near to the most famous shrines, +such as that of Epidaurus, whose ruins still +remain as a silent witness of its whilom +greatness. Their hope was that they +would be favoured with a dream or vision +from the kindly god as to the remedy for +their disease. The career of Aristeides, +wandering for thirteen years with fanatical +enthusiasm from shrine to shrine till finally +he was cured, shows to what extremes +superstition carried some of those devotees. +On one occasion while suffering from a fever, +he thought he had a vision of the god bidding +him bathe in the ice-cold water, and then +run a mile, and he carried out this and many +other such assuredly unearthly remedies +despite the dissuasions of the priests. +These priests, the <em>neocoroi</em>, used to interpret +the dream, and the prescriptions were +carried out by medical men and attendants. +The belief in the efficacy of these dream-sent +prescriptions was not confined to the vulgar. +Marcus Aurelius believed that he himself +had been cured thus; and his wise physician, +Galen, trusted them. Readers of <em>Marius, +the Epicurean</em>, will not easily forget Pater’s +description of Marius’ stay in the Temple, +nor the words of thanksgiving addressed +to the heaven-sent dreams which he puts +on his lips at parting; they are from the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>Asclepiadæ of Aristeides: “O ye children +of Apollo! who in time past have stilled +the waves of sorrow from many people, +lighting up a lamp of safety before those +who travel by sea and land, be pleased, in +your great condescension, though ye be +equal in glory with your elder brethren, the +Dioscuri, and your lot in immortal youth +be as theirs, to accept the prayer, which +in sleep and vision ye have inspired. Order +it aright, I pray you, according to your +loving kindness to men. Preserve me from +sickness, and endue my body with such a +measure of health as may suffice it for the +obeying of the spirit, that I may pass my +days unhindered and in quietness.”</p> + +<p>Thus charity and culture progressed +under the Antonines. So, too, did industry +and trade, which brought with them prosperity +and its attendant luxury until the +advent of plague and famine. We are told +that each year the treasures of the East +were brought by a fleet of one hundred and +twenty vessels to the ports of the Red Sea, +to be transferred thence through Alexandria +to Rome. The silks of China, the spices +and perfumes of India and Arabia, pearls +and diamonds, which were to glitter on the +togas of young nobles or round the necks +of fair ladies in the Vicus Tuscus, formed +the precious cargo. In return for these +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>Rome sent annually three-quarters of a +million pounds—worth several times that +amount now. “The coast of Malabar and +the island of Ceylon grew rich as trade +emporia for the luxuries of Rome and Roman +merchants penetrated the East as consuls +of sensuality for the senators and the +‘friends’ of Cæsar.”</p> + +<p>All this led to softening and decadence +in the army and in the nation. With the +blessings of peace there came also its vices; +the advances in prosperity and humanity, +such as it was, was not accompanied by +any improvement in morals, but perhaps +the reverse. The results of Marcus’ reign +did not justify Plato’s expectation from +the philosopher-king. What Marcus might +have accomplished under less unfavourable +circumstances we cannot surmise; he +certainly had not the strength of mind or +body necessary for carrying out far-reaching +reforms in such an Empire. As it was, he +was singularly unfortunate in his public +life: war, plague and famine—a trinity +which no State could resist—rendered him +powerless. His reign left little outward +impress on the Roman State; his greatest +legacy to Rome and to the world was the +development of humane legislation, the +reverence for mind above matter, and the +example of a disinterested and noble ruler.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER IV + <br> + <span class="small1">LIFE IN THE PALACE</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>There is much truth in the saying, “No +man is a hero to his valet”—be his reputed +heroism either of the physical or the moral +type. Humanity, even at its best, is an +imperfect thing, much in need of the +kindly haze which mostly veils its withered +ruggedness; and many an angel of sweetness +and light reveals the serpent’s tail on +too close inspection; but I have no such +revelation to offer in this chapter. Indeed, +it is in his intimate domestic life that Marcus +appears to best advantage. His presence +in the palace brought with it a sense of +restfulness, of serenity and calm, of mutual +forbearance and love. It was as if some +pale glimmer of the Christian love-light +played about him and diffused itself over +all that came within the charmed round. +His household was known as the <em>Sacra +Domus</em>—“the sacred house.” Thus the <em>Pax +Romana</em>—the peace that was the gift of +the Antonines—though lost to the Empire, +was never interrupted in the Emperor’s +home; and to Marcus is due the credit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> + +<p>All through life it was his lot to consort +with persons having sadly different views +from his own on the meaning of existence, +the value of virtue; yet he was kind and +sociable with all. In this he did but follow +the example of the gods: “They are not +vexed because, during so long a time, they +must tolerate men, such as they are, and +so many of them bad; and besides this they +also take care of them in all ways. But thou, +who art destined to end so soon, art thou +wearied of enduring the bad, and this, too, +when thou art one of them?” This tolerance +towards the failings of others had its +source in his peculiar gospel of resignation:—or +should we say, fatalism? “That is good +for each thing which the universal nature +brings to each. And it is for its good at +the time when nature brings it. ‘The earth +loves the shower,’ and ‘the solemn æther +loves,’ and the Universe loves to make +whatever is about to be. I say then to the +Universe: ‘I love as thou lovest.’” In +this spirit he bore the trials of his domestic, +as of his public, life; keen griefs coming +from without and from within; and the +keenest of all for one of his affectionate +nature were those of his own household.</p> + +<p>Apollonius had taught him “to be always +the same in sharp pains, and on the occasion +of the loss of a child and in long illness.” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>He learnt the theory of indifference to +natural affection; but, fortunately, never +the practice. The severe light of Stoicism +was softened and suffused in passing through +the medium of his gentle nature; he trusted +the reasons of the heart, more than those +of the pure intellect. If Stoic cosmopolitanism +would have him care for men in inverse +proportion to their nearness to him, he +must depart from type in this. To his wife +Faustina, to his children, to his tutor +Fronto and to Fronto’s children, especially +“little Gratia,” he was genuinely devoted.</p> + +<p>The correspondence with Fronto, if too +effusive for our taste, yet shows both in +their best light. It is full of tender references +to the “little ones,” their joys and +their ailments. Fronto writes to the Emperor: +“I have seen the little ones—the +pleasantest sight of my life; for they are as +like yourself as could possibly be. It has +well repaid me for my journey over that +slippery road and up those steep rocks: +for I behold you, not simply face to face +before me, but, more generously, whichever +way I turned, to my right and to my left. +For the rest, I found them, Heaven be +thanked, with healthy cheeks and lusty +voices. One was holding a slice of white +bread, like a king’s son; the other a crust +of brown bread, as becomes the offspring +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>of a philosopher. I pray the gods to have +both the sower and the seed in their keeping, +to watch over this field wherein the ears of +corn are so kindly alike. Ah! I heard, too, +their pretty voices, so sweet that in the +childish prattle of one and the other I +seemed to be listening—yes! in that chirping +of your pretty chickens—to the limpid and +harmonious notes of your own oratory. +Take care! You will find me growing independent +having those I could love in your +place;—love, on the surety of my eyes and +ears.” The Emperor replies with equal +affection: “I, too, have seen my little ones +in your sight of them: as also I saw yourself +in reading your letter. It is that charming +letter which forces me to write thus.” Alas! +Apollonius; what has become of the Stoic +ἀπάθεια which you inculcated with such +great pains? The spirit indeed was willing, +but the flesh was weak; and so the good +Emperor cared more for the slender breath +of life that kept soul and body together in +his little Annius Verus than for all the sublime +mysticity of the Weltseele—the world-soul +of the Stoic creed. All the sadder was +the early death of his children, one after +another; one son alone being left to him—Commodus, +his successor in the Empire—assuredly +not the fittest to survive. “Better +that he had never been born,” anyone had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>said, except he who had most right of all to +say it. But for Marcus, whatever was, was +right; the gods, if gods there were, determined +all things, and they could do no +wrong. Commodus, bright, handsome, impulsive, +wayward, fond of gladiators and +low life, found the teaching of Fronto and +his father little to his taste. He was more +at home in the circus and the amphitheatre +than in the lecture-room; with the actors, +the archers and the gladiators and the +“smart set,” which Faustina gathered round +her, than with the bearded and hooded +sophists and rhetoricians who talked +ἐγκράτεια (self-restraint) and αὐτάρκεια (self-sufficiency) +in the palace gardens.</p> + +<p>Bitter as must have been his disappointment +at his ill-success with Commodus, there +was another which thrust home deeper. +Ill-fame had long been gathering round +the name of his wife Faustina—the most +beautiful woman in the Empire. One of her +vivacious temperament, more Parisian than +Roman, was assuredly ill-mated with the +Stoic Emperor, whose days were spent in +introspection; their union was “the great +paradox of the age.” She knew no law but +the law of the senses: while he was ever +guided by the admirable but unamiable call +of duty, cold as the beckoning of a star, not +soft and warm as the sunlight of devotion. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>No modern belle of the season had more zest +in the life of the moment than she had; +whilst he lived always in the shadow of the +wings of Death. “Since it is possible that +thou mayest depart from life this very +moment, regulate every act and thought +accordingly.” Every act was to be done +“with forethought, as if it were the last of +thy life.” Yet, different as they were, by +a whole heaven’s breadth in character, it +is to the credit of both that they loved one +another. The rumours that assailed her +name were probably in great part the +exaggerations of prurient gossips, though +with sufficient foundation to make them +credible. Whatever their truth, the Emperor +did not hearken to them. Even when +they became the property of the stage and +he himself was ridiculed in connexion with +them, he paid no heed. In the first book of +the Meditations, written a few years before +the death of Faustina, he thanks the gods +that he had such a wife, “so obedient, so +affectionate, so simple.” He, too, must have +felt at times that Cæsar’s wife should be +above suspicion, but his kindly nature was +ever disposed to take the most charitable +view of things, and he minded little the +slanderous tongues of men.</p> + +<p>“Does a man gather figs from thistles, or +grapes from thorns?”—this was the keynote<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> +to his philosophy of life—a strange +fatalist philosophy it too often was; but it +served to lay the gibbering spectres that +haunted the palace of the Cæsars. After +all, Faustina, associating with sailors and +gladiators (even if the worst were true), +and Commodus, already giving free reign to +his passions over all the paths of license, +were but acting in accordance with nature, +“just as the fruit trees” or the beasts of +the forest. Thus, in the loneliness of his +spirit, would Aurelius reason, with an indulgence +to the shortcomings (or worse) of +others, which we must condemn as weakness. +But perhaps it was owing to his tact +and consideration that her untamed restlessness +carried her to no greater excesses, and +that Pater’s words are true, “the one thing +quite certain about her, besides her extraordinary +beauty, is her sweetness to himself.”</p> + +<p>One of his biographers, writing under the +Emperor Diocletian, has this pious reflection +on the story: “Such is the force of +daily life in a good ruler, so great the power +of his sanctity, gentleness, and piety, that +no breath of slander or invidious suggestion +from an acquaintance can avail to sully his +memory. In short, to Antonine, immutable +as the heavens in the tenor of his own life, +and in the manifestations of his own moral +temper, and who was not by possibility +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>liable to any impulse or movement of change, +on any alien suggestion, it was not eventually +an injury that he was dishonoured by +some of his connexions; on him, invulnerable +in his own character, neither a harlot +for his wife, nor a gladiator for his son, could +inflict a wound. Then as now, O sacred +lord Diocletian! he was reputed a god; +not as others are reputed but specially and +in a separate sense, and with a privilege to +such worship from all men as is addressed +to his memory by yourself, who often breathe +a wish to heaven that you were or could +be such in life and merciful disposition as +was Marcus Aurelius.”</p> + +<p>We saw that even Marcus’ integrity could +not shield his household from the taint of +scandal, ever mingling with the divinity +that doth hedge a king; yet the life of that +household was of the simplest kind. The +Emperor’s tastes were mostly domestic—philosophy, +the fine arts and intercourse +with the learned world around him. The +palace was a museum of all the curious and +choice things of every land gathered together +by Hadrian and preceding Emperors; +the precious and luxurious were strewn all +around in Oriental magnificence; but not +for long. The Emperor had learnt from +Antoninus to be a king without the trappings; +and in his later life he set an example +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>truly Platonic to all future monarchs of +private detachment for the sake of the +public good. At that time distress became +universal; the treasury was exhausted; +and yet money was wanted for the wars in +the North. In these circumstances, in order +to avoid all further taxation, Marcus put +all the treasures of his Roman palaces and +country villas into the public market. +Jewels, pictures, furniture of rare workmanship; +dinner-services of gold and crystal; +murrhine vases; the rich hangings and +sumptuous apparel of the imperial household, +including even the wardrobe of silken +robes, interwoven with gold, which had been +his wife’s before her death: all these objects, +made sacred by long use in the home of the +divine Cæsars, were put under the hammer +and fetched fabulous prices. The auction +lasted two months. The <em>novi homines</em>—the +Roman equivalent for our <em>nouveaux riches</em>—were +as keen as would be a group of Americans +at an auction of the Vatican contents. +Thus the historic palace of the Cæsars was +despoiled; but Marcus was content while +the neighbouring library in the temple of +Apollo remained intact, with Fronto and +Rusticus to come at morning and evening +and walk with him amidst the shrubberies +of the Palatine discoursing on the great +Greek schools of Ionia, of Athens, and of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>Elea; of Democrites, of Plato, Zeno and +Pythagoras and his favourite Epictetus.</p> + +<p>In his home, as in public, he was devoted +to the old religious practices. The <em>lararium</em>—or +family shrine—contained statues of his +favourite gods, one of his own <em>Genius</em> (or +spiritual counterpart) and those of his +favourite philosophers and teachers. Here +he would offer the morning sacrifice with +flowers and lights and incense, and beg the +favour of the gods for himself and for the +Empire. There he would utter a prayer for +the wayward Commodus and Faustina, and +for the courage to persevere to the end on +his own steep path. “Every morning I +pray for Faustina,” he writes; and again: +“My mother’s illness leaves me not a +moment’s rest; and now Faustina’s confinement +is approaching. Well, we must trust +in the gods.” In all this, how strange the +mixture of truth and falsehood; of crude +superstition and a higher light breaking +through; of matter and spirit; perhaps even +of nature and grace; for it is hard not to see +the special handiwork of God in these fair +works of the spirit world—who will set limits +to His mercy and power? or who will nicely +disentangle the strands of that strange +mesh-work, a human soul? St. Clement +of Alexandria and St. Augustine saw +in those pagan heroes those who were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>to prepare the way of the Lord and make +straight His paths. “Paganism saw at +least the road from its hill-top,” said +Augustine. We too may say that they were +not far from the Kingdom of God.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container p11"> +<div class="poetry"> +<p> + Christo iam tum venienti,<br> + Crede, parata via est. +</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Believe me even then the path was made +straight for Christ already on His way.” +So sang the Christian Prudentius; and we +sing, Amen! Even so, Lord Jesus.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER V + <br> + <span class="small1">ON THE DANUBE</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>A prince of peace, Marcus Aurelius was +destined by the irony of fate to live most of +his days as a leader of battles. The low +rumbling of war from the provinces mingled +discordantly with the acclamations which +proclaimed him Princeps, Rome’s chief +citizen and lord. The disturbances in Britain +and on the Rhine were easily quelled; +but not so in Parthia or on the Danube.</p> + +<p>Parthia was Rome’s great rival in the old +world. More than once had the captains +of that mysterious Eastern kingdom plucked +the laurels from Roman brows; the Roman +eagle had brooded in captivity in Parthian +dungeons; and had been released not by +steel but by gold. On the succession of +Marcus, King Vologeses, a man with all the +spirit and ambition of his race, determined +to secure for himself the neighbouring kingdom +of Armenia. The Romans resisted and +their first army was annihilated. This +defeat was quickly followed by another; +the Eastern legions were demoralised, and +things looked grave for Rome.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> + +<p>It was at this crisis that Marcus entrusted +to his consort, Lucius Veras, the command +in the East: a foolish choice, scarcely less +foolish than the first folly of making him +his consort. For Lucius had neither ability +nor morality; he spent his days amidst the +pleasant groves, the flowers and the perfumes +and the sensuous society of Antioch. +He committed the campaign to the care of +his generals, the chief of them, Avidius +Cassius, a soldier tried and true; whilst he +himself frittered away his hours in soft +dalliance amidst the ill-famed groves of +Daphne, which made Antioch the lodestone +of voluptuaries from all parts of the world. +Avidius Cassius with Priscus and Martius +Veras ended the war within a few years; +and Lucius Verus with a heavy heart turned +his face towards the West, to celebrate a +triumph and receive high titles in Rome for +his great achievements. But Rome paid +dearly for the conquest; for with the army +came the plague which devastated the +capital and Italy.</p> + +<p>In the desolation which surrounded him, +the Stoic Emperor recognised the need for +something more inspiring than the maxims +of his masters, Zeno and Chrysippus. The +futility of such chamber philosophy and +religion was borne home to him with fearful +intensity by the human misery he saw on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>every side, the stench of the unburied dead, +the haggard looks and demoniacal cries of +the living. He recognised, then, that a +syllogism never soothed an aching heart; +that for life’s tragic moments we need a +living, breathing, throbbing, thrilling, religion, +a religion of the whole man. Hence +he called on all the gods, old and new, +Roman, Grecian, Eastern and Egyptian, to +aid the suffering State. Every altar reeked +with the incense of sacrifice; great nobles +marched in procession bearing the statues +of the gods; noble ladies might be seen, half-naked, +standing beneath the platform from +which the hot blood of the slain bull poured +down upon them, enduring this baptism +of the Great Mother, by which they were to +be “reborn for eternity”; at eventide a +wanderer in the Campus Martius might +hear the vesper song of Isis, and entering +her shrine might see dark Egyptians holding +up the water of the Nile for adoration; or, +descending into a subterranean chapel, he +might see the slave, the soldier, and the +senator, side by side, attending at the +strange mystic initiations of Mithra, the +Unconquered One, the god of light, the +strong young god in Phrygian cap and loose +flowing mantle caught by the sculptor +in the symbolic slaying of the bull. No +extravagance of superstition, however +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>fantastic, was omitted, not even the greatest +extravagance of all, the cry of “the Christians +to the lions.” If Aurelius had but +known; if Rome in its desolation could +have seen; if modern Europe and its rulers +could but realise the secret healing of Christ’s +religion of sorrow, how much the world, +laboured and heavy-burdened, would be +refreshed! But Marcus did not know this +healing. He prayed and he sacrificed: but +the plague did not pass, nor were his people +comforted. The ancient world never recovered +from the blow, Niebuhr says. +While it yet raged, another call to arms +came, this time from the Danube.</p> + +<p>It was the severest onset of the barbarians +which the Roman Empire had yet +endured. All the tribes from the Rhine to +the Don, Teutonic and Slavonic, seemed in +league against it. These wild Northmen, +chaste and strong of limb, had hurled themselves +on the Danube frontier and broken +into the sacred precincts of the <em>Pax Romana</em>. +The Danube passed, Pannonia, Dacia, +Greece were overrun. The prints of Northern +hoofs were on the plains of Rhætia and +Noricum; and the wild Marcomanni were +seen in the streets of Venice and Padua. +Well might the Romans fear that it would +be with them now as it was in the days of +Hannibal. Aye, and even worse; for the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>Romans of the second century of the Empire +were not the Romans of the second or third +century before the fall of the Republic; +and to replace a Scipio and a Marcellus, +they had for leader not a Vespasian or a +Trajan, but a sickly “Greekling,” “a +philosophical old woman,” as Avidius +Cassius used to call him. This was their +Emperor Aurelius, and in these wars on the +Danube he was amply to refute these +taunts of the men of rougher mould. His +was the great task of stemming the first +inflow of those nomadic tribes which, two +centuries later, swept in full flood-tide over +the Empire; and he performed it well if not +greatly.</p> + +<p>The heralds of the revolt found him at his +work of peace and legislation, of charity and +self-culture in the capital. Now came the +test of his principles of devotion to duty. +Would he face the loneliness, spiritual and +intellectual, the barbarity, the long-drawn +desolation of a campaign in the dull plains +of Hungary? Would he be a leader to his +people? or would he, like certain selfish +souls, wrap himself in himself and seek his +own advancement towards the sapiency of +the perfect Stoic at the cost of his people? +It was the test of a man; and he answered +well to it. He elected to lead the troops in +person.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> + +<p>This was in the year <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 167. The +Romans were just then busy burying their +plague-stricken, but the call to arms would +brook no delay; and to arms they went. +War, the plague, and the Emperor’s +charities had exhausted the treasury; hence +the difficulty in raising supplies and a force. +It was then that he sold by auction the +treasures of the palace and his villas and +thus secured the required funds. To swell +the numbers of his troops he compelled the +gladiators to serve. This was the most +unpopular act of his reign as it was one of +the most creditable. “He wants to steal +our amusements from us,” cried one; “Aye, +to compel us to be philosophers,” cried +another of the mob, who cared for nothing +but the <em>panem et circenses</em>, the public dole +of food and the public games. The sporting +set, the loungers, the fast young men about +town, the brutalised rabble, almost created +a revolt against the act. They cared little +for the Empire, if they could but get their +meed of blood; the gladiators were better +spent in glutting their evil eyes than in +checking the onrush of those Wandering +Nations, who were one day to sit in those +amphitheatres and exult over fallen Rome, +having changed the history of Europe and +the world.</p> + +<p>The two Emperors led the troops in all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>the glory of warlike array through the +streets of Rome to the Northern gates. +Aurelius, as he rode in all the Imperial +adornment, yet with sad, wistful look and +countenance sickled o’er with the pale cast +of thought, contrasted ominously with the +splendour of the pageant of which he was +the centre. He seemed to be far away from +it all—far away, yes, in the depths of his +own soul. On one side of him rode Lucius +Verus, resplendent and gay, the hero of +levees and banquets; on the other, Faustina, +now as ever outshining all in the great +functions of state, her beauty making her +the darling of the mob. Throughout the +war she abode with Marcus faithfully and +was called by the army the <em>Mater castrorum</em>, +the mother of the camp; and the Emperor +thanked the gods for the solace her fidelity +brought to him.</p> + +<p>The army reached Venice in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 168. +Such had been the energy of their preparations +that a panic seized the barbarian +invaders. They begged for peace; but +Marcus had determined that there should +be no peace or a lasting one; the barbarians +must be taught a lesson; and he set about +subjugating the tribes one by one. In this +he was for a time successful, thanks mainly +to his able generals Pompeianus and +Pertinax. The Quadi were compelled to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>restore the 60,000 Roman prisoners they +had taken; and in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 169 the Emperors +felt justified in returning to Rome, leaving +the completion of the war to their generals. +On the way Verus died and this left Marcus +sole ruler. At Rome he paid the highest +honours, civil and religious, to his colleague’s +questionable memory.</p> + +<p>His stay there was, however, abruptly cut +short as, owing to the acuteness of the war +with the Marcomanni and Jazyges, he +had to return again to the fighting line. +The Romans once more met with severe +defeats. Two commanders fell; and it was +not till <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 172 that the tide of victory +turned. In that year the Marcomanni +suffered an overwhelming defeat and the +Emperor assumed the title <em>Germanicus</em>. +But in the meantime the Quadi had rebelled +and driven out their king, who was +a friend of the Romans, and elected one +opposed to Rome. Marcus then turned his +attention to these: he set a price of 1,000 +pieces of gold on the head of the rebel king; +and on his being betrayed sent him to +Alexandria.</p> + +<p>During one of these campaigns against +the Quadi occurred the incident of the +“thundering legion”—a story famous in +the early Church and much controverted. +It is interesting as bringing Marcus and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>the Christians face to face for the first +time.</p> + +<p>It was during the hot summer months +that a legion containing many Christians +was surrounded by the Quadi in a wooded +and hilly country. They were cut off from +all means of getting water, and suffered +terribly from the heat and thirst. In these +straits, the story goes on to say, the +Christians in the legion knelt and prayed for +release; and lo! suddenly the whole heavens +became overcast; a storm gathered and +broke over the opposing forces; rain fell +abundantly and the Romans gathered it in +their helmets and in the hollows of their +shields, and drank eagerly and gave to drink +to their horses. The barbarians saw that +they must now attack before the Romans +recovered strength. But the rain which +had refreshed the Romans turned to blinding +hail against their foes; and the rain and the +lightning “burnt them like oil insomuch as +they wounded one another to extinguish +the fire with blood.” Many, seeing such +evident favour from heaven for the Roman +cause, went over to their side; and Marcus +Aurelius received them mercifully.</p> + +<p>There are many controverted points in +connexion with the details of this story, +and the use made of it by the Christian +apologists, into which this is not the place +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>to enter. Certain it is that this Danube +legion got the title of <em>Fulminata</em>, at least for +some time; even though the twelfth legion, +to whom it properly belonged since the time +of Augustus, were at this time at the +Euphrates. It is certain, too, that everyone, +pagan and Christian, regarded the incident +as a miracle. Some attributed it to the +prayers of the Emperor himself, and this +view was commemorated in bas-reliefs of +the Antonine column, erected after death +to his memory and to be seen to this day. +There one sees represented in the air the +winged figure of an old man with streaming +hair and beard, the god of rain, Jupiter +Pluvius; while the Romans with helmets +and shields receive the torrents of rain, and +their enemies lie transfixed to the ground +by the hail and lightning. Marcus Aurelius +himself was represented in pictures with +hands uplifted and praying, with strange +forgetfulness of his barbarities against the +Christians, “Jove to thee do I lift this +hand, which hath never shed blood.” Others +attributed this miracle to the Egyptian +magician Arnouphis, who accompanied the +army.</p> + +<p>That there were Christians “in Cæsar’s +household” and round Marcus Aurelius is +certain. That there were many Christians +in this legion cannot reasonably be denied. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>But the great import of the event for Tertullian +and other Christian apologists, before +and after him, was based on a letter +undoubtedly apocryphal, which Marcus +Aurelius was supposed to have written to +the Senate, acknowledging that he had been +saved by Christian prayers and forbidding +their further persecution.</p> + +<p>The truth is that Marcus’ attitude to the +Christians was in no way changed for the +better by this incident, but rather for the +worse. As Renan says: “In three or four +years the persecution reached the highest +pitch of fury it knew before Decius.” In +Africa persecution was widespread and +furious; Sardinia was crowded with Christian +exiles; in Byzantium nearly the whole +population was put to death with torture; +while in Asia, where the Christians were +especially numerous, officials vented all their +fury on them, interpreting the laws in a way +in which they had never been intended to +be applied. “Truly,” to quote Renan again, +“these repeated persecutions were a bloody +contradiction to a century of humanity.” +Marcus was not directly responsible for all +this cruelty; he was probably for the most +part passive and indifferent. Some of the +Christian apologists certainly looked on him +as friendly, as, for instance, Melito, who +wrote to him: “As for yourself, who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>cherish the same kind of feeling for us [as +the other good Emperors], with a heightened +degree of philanthropy and philosophy, we +rest assured that you will do what we ask +you.” But the confidence of the Christians +in Marcus’ humanity and friendship for +them and in his ability to restrain the pagan +mob or his own more brutal officials was +ill-founded. This passing incident in the +Danube campaign was of little importance +in the history of the Empire, but its interest +will never die as a picturesque detail in the +great world-battle of the spirit then in its +acutest stage.</p> + +<p>In <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 175 Marcus followed up his +reduction of the Quadi by that of the +Jazyges. This practically ended the war. +Marcus intended securing the fruit of his +conquest by establishing two more Roman +provinces; but a new danger had appeared +in the East, and he had to conclude a hasty +peace with the barbarians and to hurry +with all speed to Syria.</p> + +<p>These victories in the North stirred in +him no pride. Here is his sadly disillusioned +comment on the whole campaign: “A +spider is proud when it has caught a fly, +and a hunter when he has caught a poor +hare, and another when he has taken a little +fish in a net, and another when he has taken +wild boars, <em>and another when he has taken</em> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span><em>Sarmatians</em>. <em>Are not these robbers, if thou +examinest their principles?</em>”</p> + +<p>He can scarcely have been an inspiring +general who took this view of war; and such +sentiments have caused many active spirits +to find him a very dull person indeed. After +this we can scarcely wonder at the remark +of one of his generals: “The soldiers don’t +understand you; they don’t know Greek.” +In the frieze on the Antonine column which +represents him on horseback, surrounded +by banners and triumphant soldiers, receiving +the submission of the kneeling +Germans, there is the same disenchantment +in his eyes, the same firm lines of duty on +the lips; there is no flash of enthusiasm, +no gloating over the fallen. He seems absorbed +in the thought that all is vanity, and +the vanquished look at him with a puzzled, +interested look which has something of +affection in it.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER VI + <br> + <span class="small1">THE BOOK OF MEDITATIONS</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was in the midst of this active strife that +Marcus wrote one of the most introspective +and peaceful of books—his Thoughts +About Himself (τὰ εἰς ἑαυτὸν βιβλία)—the +twelve books of his Meditations. Few +books have had such influence over men’s +lives, and its influence still abides; and for +all students of humanity it will ever be a +priceless document illustrative of one great +phase of human thought, and one great +thinker. Surely Stevenson, testifying to +the moulding force of this little book on his +own life, did not exaggerate in saying: +“The dispassionate gravity, the noble forgetfulness +of self, the tenderness of others that +are there expressed, and were practised on +so large a scale in the life of its writer, +make this book a book quite by itself. No +man can read it and not be moved.... +When you have read, you carry away with +you a memory of the man himself; it is as +though you had touched a loyal heart, +looked into brave eyes and made a noble +friend; there is another bond on you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>thenceforward, binding you to life and to +the love of virtue.”</p> + +<p>The secret of this charm and influence is +in the candour and utter absence of self-consciousness +of the book. It reveals the +author as he wished himself to live, a sincere +and open life, “lived on the mountain top—a +naked soul more visible than the body +which clothed it,” a soul whose thoughts +may be read “as the beloved one reads all +things in the lover’s eyes.” These jottings +were the fruit of his frequent searchings of +the heart, the outward expression of the +inner life of one who seemed to live all +within, with now and then some golden +gleanings from his favourite moralists. +These thoughts he meant to be his strength +against the beggarly elements in his weaker +moments. They, with the <em>Discourse of +Epictetus</em>, were to be his mainstay. This +latter book—a noble book too—was his +à Kempis, and to it he owed the suggestion +of gathering together his own thoughts. +Having these he bore his cloister always +with him.</p> + +<p>“Men seek retreats for themselves, houses +in the country, sea-shores and mountains; +and thou too art wont to desire such +things very much. But this is altogether a +mark of the most common sort of men, for +it is in thy power, whenever thou shalt +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>choose, to retire into thyself. For nowhere +either with more quiet or more freedom from +trouble does a man retire than into his own +soul, particularly when he has within him +such thoughts that, by looking into them, +he is immediately in perfect tranquillity; +and I affirm that tranquillity is nothing else +than the good ordering of the mind. Constantly +then give to thyself this retreat and +renew thyself; and let thy principles be +brief and fundamental, which, as soon as +thou shalt recur to them, will be sufficient +to cleanse the soul completely, and to send +thee back free from all discontent with the +things to which thou returnest.”</p> + +<p>“For with what art thou discontented?” +he asks himself. The badness of men? +The lot that is assigned to thee out of the +universe? The clinging of corporal things +still to thee? The desire of the thing called +fame? Thou hast maxims that will +alleviate all these. “This then remains. +Remember to retire into this little territory +of thine own, and above all do not distract +or strain thyself, but be free and look at +things as a man, as a human being, as a +citizen, as a mortal. But amongst the things +readiest to thy hand to which thou shalt +return, let there be these, which are two: +One is that <em>things</em> do not touch the soul, for +they are external and immovable; but our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>perturbations come only from the <em>opinion</em> +which is within. The other is that all these +things which thou seest change immediately +and will no longer be; and constantly bear +in mind how many of these changes thou +hast already witnessed. The Universe is +transformation; life is opinion.”</p> + +<p>In these last sentences we have the kernel +of the Stoic doctrine of resignation.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> + “The mind is its own place, and in itself<br> + Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>The mind can weave its own Universe; and +with it it rests to weave it a fairyland of +ordered goodness and beauty. All things +without are fleeting and unstable, shadows +that will pass, mists that disappear at dawn. +“There is nothing either good or bad but +thinking makes it so.” “The aids to nobler +life are all within.” Man is but part of the +Universe, and his best wisdom is to live in +accord with its beautiful harmony, which +disposes all things sweetly for the good of +all. It would be contrary to the Divine +Kosmos, the ordering of the great world-spirit, +if what were for the good of all were +not for the good of each:</p> + +<p>“If the gods have determined about me +and about the things which must happen +to me, they have determined well, for it is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>not easy even to imagine a deity without +forethought; and as to doing me any harm, +why should they have any desire towards +that? For what advantage would result +to them from this, or to the whole, which is +the special object of their providence? +But if they have not determined about me +individually, they have certainly determined +about the whole at least, and the +things which happen by way of sequence in +this general arrangement I ought to accept +with pleasure and to be content with them. +But if they determine about nothing, +which it is wicked to believe, or if we do +believe it, let us neither sacrifice, nor pray, +nor swear by them, nor do anything else +which we do as if the gods were present and +lived with us—but if, however, the gods +determine about none of those things which +concern us, I am able to determine about +myself, and I can inquire about that which +is useful; and that is useful to each man +which is conformable to his own constitution +and nature. But my nature is rational and +social; my city and country so far as I am +Antoninus is Rome, but so far as I am a man +it is the world. The things then that are +useful to these cities are alone useful to me.”</p> + +<p>All this is very beautiful; it is admirable; +but it is not human. An abstract idea never +ministered to a mind diseased or healed a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>broken heart; and when all is said the +Stoic Weltanschauung is a sad one. As +Arnold felt many have felt: “It is impossible +to rise from reading Epictetus or +Marcus Aurelius without a sense of constraint +and melancholy, without feeling +that the burden laid upon man is well-nigh +greater than he can bear.” But we must +add with him: “Honour to the sages who +have felt this, and yet have borne it.” For +ourselves we feel a need of something more +personal, something with more love and +sympathy and appeal. How chilling are the +maxims of the Porch beside the glowing +verses of the Apostle of Love, which express +the essence of Christianity—an intense +personal love for God, an acceptance of all +trials from a motive of love, and a love +of our neighbour like unto the love God +bears them.</p> + +<p>This was the Christian answer to all the +ancient philosophies—the solution of the +world-problem by love; and neither in +Marcus Aurelius nor Plotinus nor any of the +great pagans do we find anything at once +so human and divine, anything which so +responds to the noblest aspirations of the +human soul without losing sight of its +weakness.</p> + +<p>But it is not the formal doctrine of the +book of the Meditations which gives it its +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>attraction; it is the spirit of the author it +reveals so intimately. Rarely do we get +from philosophers such familiar self-revelation +as this from the beginning of the fifth +book: interesting, even though it suggests +a lack of humour and sense of proportion:</p> + +<p>“In the morning when thou risest unwillingly, +let this thought be present—I +am rising to the work of a human being. +Why then am I dissatisfied if I am going to +do the things for which I exist and for +which I was brought into this world? Or have +I been made for this, to lie in the bed-clothes +and keep myself warm? But this is more +pleasant—Dost thou exist then to take +thy pleasure and not at all for action or +exertion? Dost thou not see the little plants, +the little birds, the ants, the spiders, the +bees, working together to put in order their +several parts of the Universe? And art thou +unwilling to do the work of a human being, +and dost thou not make haste to do that +which is according to thy nature?” Imagine +the sight of a spider rousing a sluggard!</p> + +<p>And again in the same book:</p> + +<p>“Thou sayest, Men cannot admire the +sharpness of thy wits. Be it so; but there +are many other things of which thou canst +not say, I am not formed for them by nature. +Show those qualities then which are altogether +in thy power, sincerity, gravity, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>endurance of labour, aversion to pleasure, +contentment with thy portion and with few +things, benevolence, frankness, no love of +superfluity, freedom from trifling magnanimity. +Dost thou not see how many qualities +thou art immediately able to exhibit, +in which there is no excuse of natural incapacity +and unfitness, and yet thou still +remainest voluntarily below the mark? or +art thou compelled through being defectively +furnished by nature to murmur, and to be +stingy, and to flatter and to find fault with +thy poor body, and to try to please men, +and to make great display, and to be restless +in thy mind? No, by the gods; but thou +mightest have been delivered from these +things long ago. Only if in truth thou canst +be charged with being rather slow and dull +of comprehension, thou must exert thyself +about this also, not neglecting it nor yet +taking pleasure in thy dullness.”</p> + +<p>Stoic optimism can scarcely be said to +have solved the mysteries of evil and the +unrest of the soul, or satisfied the craving +for happiness, for guidance and support +which is deep down in every heart. Yet +the followers of that school were a good +influence on a corrupt world. We feel in all +the book of the Meditations a calm strength, +a forbearance, a perseverance despite +failure in good resolutions, which does all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>honour to its author living in the most +sensual surroundings. And in Marcus this +stern character is relieved by touches of +tender affection and gratitude constantly +recurring. They reveal a character far +inferior to that of the Christian Saint; nobody +except some of our neo-pagan paradoxists +will look for such perfection in him; +the marvel is that he so often reminds us of +them and approaches them even afar. In +none of those pagan heroes do we find that +blending of strength and humility, of +austerity and gentlest love, that touch of +the Light Divine and that reflex of Christ, +which remove a St. Francis de Sales or a +St. Vincent de Paul a whole heaven’s breadth +from them and make it an irreverence to +compare the one to the other.</p> + +<p>But we do find wonderful things in them. +Take, for instance, the nine considerations +which Marcus proposed for himself as an +aid to bearing with those who had offended +him; they are given in the eleventh book, +and the second of them well shows the +imperfection inseparable from pagan virtue, +even the highest: (1) All men are born for +one another. (2) Consider the private vices +of those that have offended thee. (3) If +they do wrong it is involuntarily and in +ignorance. (4) Thou also doest many things +wrong, and thou art a man like others; and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>even if thou dost abstain from certain +faults still thou hast the disposition to +commit them, though either through +cowardice or concern about reputation or +some such mean motive thou dost abstain +from such faults. (5) You may be judging +them rashly. (6) “Man’s life is only a +moment, and after a short time we are all +laid out dead.” (7) Your annoyance is due +not to those acts but to your own impressions. +(He says elsewhere: “How easy it +is to repel and to wipe away every impression +which is troublesome or unsuitable, and +immediately to be in all tranquillity.”) +(8) Anger and vexation are a greater evil +than the thing which causes them. (9) One +of the most amiable passages in the Meditations: +“Consider that benevolence is invincible +if it be genuine, and not an affected +smile and acting a part. For what will the +most violent man do to thee if thou continuest +to be of a benevolent disposition +towards him, and if, as opportunity offers, +thou gently admonishest him and calmly +correctest his errors at the very time when +he is trying to do thee harm, saying, Not so, +my child: we are constituted by nature for +something else: I shall certainly not be +injured, but thou art injuring thyself, my +child—and show him with gentle tact and by +general principles that this is so, and that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span>even bees do not do as he does, nor any +animals, which are formed by nature to be +gregarious. And thou must do this neither +with any double meaning nor in way of +reproach, but affectionately and without +any rancour in thy soul; and not as if thou +wert lecturing him, nor yet that any by-stander +may admire, but when he is alone.” +Again he asks himself what have the evil +deeds of others to do with the intellect’s +abiding pure, self-possessed, temperate, and +just. Nothing at all: “Even as if one +standing by a sweet and transparent +fountain were to utter abuse against it, and +it ceased not to pour forth its salutary +waters. And if one cast mud or filth therein, +it would speedily dissipate and wash it +away, and would in no wise be stained by it. +How shalt thou be an ever-flowing spring, +and not a cistern? Grow every hour into +freedom, united with gentleness, simplicity +and modesty.”</p> + +<p>The view of his fellow-men which Marcus +expresses is a curious mixture of charity, pity, +and contempt. He frequently strengthened +himself against human respect by considering +that the evil lives of other men made +their opinion contemptible. These passages +seem to reveal a nature tinged with spiritual +pride and aloofness. He insists time and +again on the fellowship of men, as fellow-citizens<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> +of one great polity: but he has a +profound sense of their folly and baseness +too. Yet his lonely nature craved for friendship +with kindred souls, though seemingly +fastidious in its friendship. With his detached +attitude towards his fellow-men it is +little wonder that he had but few friends; +and he was conscious of it. In a letter to +Fronto he mentions this and also in a passage +from the Meditations: “Solace your departure +with the reflection: I am leaving a +life in which my own associates, for whom I +have so strived, prayed, and thought, themselves +wish for my removal, their hope being +that they will perchance gain in freedom +thereby.”</p> + +<p>This note of world-weariness and disillusion +as regards everything men prize recurs again +and again in the course of the Meditations: +it runs through his doctrines of resignation, +of charity and forbearance, of self-restraint +and peace. Its recurrence in the many—perhaps +too many—quotations in this +chapter may have wearied the reader: yet +I do not regret that I have made it prominent, +for it was the most intense idea in the +Emperor’s mind, and surely strange enough +to be interesting when found in the ruler of +the greatest of Empires at the height of its +civilisation. I hope, too, that these quotations +will initiate the reader into the spirit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>of the great Stoic. There was no question +of giving an exact account of the system +expounded in the Meditations: for there is +no such system; Marcus Aurelius was more +interested in virtue than in learning; he +would rather feel compunction than know +its definition.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER VII + <br> + <span class="small1">LAST DAYS IN ROME</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The hasty summons to the East which +interrupted Marcus’ northern campaign +was due to the revolt of one of his best +generals, Avidius Cassius.</p> + +<p>Cassius until now had been loyal to the +Emperor and had served him well in the +war against the Parthians. In that war the +worthless debauchee Lucius Verus, Marcus’ +colleague, had been nominally in command, +but really confined his campaigns to the +voluptuous groves of Daphne, while Cassius +bore the brunt of the fight. Further, Cassius +had by iron discipline restored the efficiency +of the Eastern legions. At first, like all +reformers, he was cordially hated; this +hatred found expression in mutiny; but, on +this being suppressed, gave place to respect +and even to popularity. It were well for +Cassius had he confined his zeal for reform +to the army; but he wished to reform the +Emperor and the court also. His murmurings +became public property, and Lucius +Verus wrote to Marcus warning him against +him: “I would you had him closely +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>watched. For he is a general disliker of us +and of our doings; he is gathering together +an enormous treasure, and he makes an open +jest of our literary pursuits. You, for +instance, he calls a philosophising old +woman, and me a dissolute buffoon and a +scamp. Consider what you would have +done. For my part I bear the fellow no +ill-will; but again I say take care that he +does not do mischief to you and to your +children.”</p> + +<p>The answer of Marcus gives a most searching +insight into his character. Steeped in +the most obstinately logical fatalism, it is +yet generous and noble and “breathes the +very soul of careless magnanimity reposing +upon conscious innocence”:—</p> + +<p>“I have read your letter, and I will +confess to you I think it more scrupulously +timid than becomes an Emperor, and timid +in a way unsuitable to the spirit of our +times. Consider this—if the Empire is +destined to Cassius by the decrees of Providence, +in that case it will not be in our +power to put him to death, however much +we may desire to do so. You know your +great-grandfather’s saying, ‘No prince ever +killed his own heir’; no man, that is, ever +yet prevailed against one whom Providence +had marked out as his successor. On the +other hand, if Providence opposes him, then, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>without any cruelty on our part, he will fall +spontaneously into some snare prepared for +him by destiny.... For Cassius, then, +let him keep his present temper and inclinations, +and the more so, being (as he is) a +good general, austere in discipline, brave, +and one whom the State cannot afford to lose. +For as to what you insinuate, that I ought +to provide for my children’s interests, by +putting this man judiciously out of the way, +very frankly I say to you, ‘Perish, my +children, if Avidius shall deserve more +attachment than they, and if it shall prove +salutary to the State that Cassius should +triumph rather than that the children of +Marcus should survive.’”</p> + +<p>Gradually Cassius had been strengthening +his forces; and at length in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 175 openly +raised the standard of revolt against the +reign of the philosophers. His manifesto +shows how deeply the military party resented +the ascendancy of men who seemed +to have no qualification for office except +their long beards and eccentric life. Jibes +such as this were common: “His beard is +worth ten thousand sesterces to him; come, +we shall have to pay goats a salary next!” +Avidius admits that Marcus is a worthy man, +but he is letting the State go to ruin, while +“hungry blood-suckers batten on her vitals.” +He longs for the old strict regime of Cato. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>“Marcus Antoninus is a scholar; he enacts +the philosopher; and he tries conclusions +concerning the four elements and upon the +nature of the soul; and he discourses +learnedly upon the <em>Honestum</em>; and concerning +the <em>Summum Bonum</em> he is unanswerable. +Meanwhile, is he learned in the interests of +the State? Can he argue a point upon the +public economy?” And he adds: “You +see what a host of sabres is required, what +a host of impeachments, sentences, executions, +before the commonwealth can resume +its ancient integrity!”</p> + +<p>A rumour that Marcus was dead hastened +the outbreak of the revolt and won support +for Cassius. But it was quickly contradicted; +and this caused the collapse of his +forces. Officers and men deserted him, +and he was at length assassinated by one of +his own followers.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Marcus was coming with all +haste from the Danube, accompanied by +Faustina. When they reached Cappadocia, +at the foot of Mount Taurus, Faustina +died, to his great grief, and the tongues of +the slanderers were silent at length. The +last accusation against her was that she +had been privy to this very revolt, and had +promised to marry Cassius in the event of +its success. But to all these charges we +must give a verdict of “not proven”; they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>are for the most part unreliable gossip of +the most gossiping of historians. But even +though she was not guilty of all that was +laid to her charge, yet she seems to have +wearied of the over-wisdom of Marcus and +his friends: she lived a different life and +had different tastes from his. Yet even +after her death Marcus cherished her memory. +He had a temple built to her honour +on the spot where she died, and at his +request the Senate decreed her deification. +The visitor to Rome may still see in the +Capitoline Museum a bas-relief in which +she is represented being borne up to heaven +by Fame, while Marcus follows her from +the earth with that look of tender, wistful +pathos which characterises most of the +representations of him. In decreeing these +honours, as also in establishing an institute +for orphans to be called <em>Faustinianæ</em>, after +her name, he was but following step by +step the action of his father Antoninus on +the death of the elder Faustina.</p> + +<p>When Marcus reached Antioch the revolt +was already ended. One of the assassins, +hoping for reward, brought the head of +Cassius to the Emperor; but he put him +from him with indignation and loathing. +His one regret was that he had been deprived +of the pleasure of pardoning his enemy.</p> + +<p>But the good deed was done, if not to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>Cassius, at any rate to his wife and relatives. +Many urged him to wreak his vengeance on +them. Faustina, before her death, had +insisted that he “should show no mercy to +men that showed none to you, nor would +have shown any to me or my sons in case +they had gained the victory”; she would +have had him punish the army also severely +as accomplices. Marcus replied that he +admired her zeal for their family, but said +that he would spare Cassius’ wife and +children and son-in-law and commend them +to the mercy of the Senate. As to his other +relatives: “Why should I speak of pardon +to them, who indeed have done no wrong, +and are blameless even in purpose.” The +Senate granted his requests, and the household +of Cassius was amply provided for by +the generosity of the Emperor.</p> + +<p>We are wont to think of the forgiving to +seventy times seven times as the peculiar +and most characteristic virtue of Christianity +as it assuredly is the most beautiful of the +natural virtues. Yet it was a virtue familiar +to the wise ones of the Stoics, and perhaps +not a difficult virtue to those who adopted +their philosophy of life. If nothing matters +and all is in very truth but vanity of vanities +and the soul is steeped in this conviction, +the disposition to look on life’s worries, +whatever their sources, as but petty and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>trifling, is natural and spontaneous. For +one with the Stoic temperament hard things +are but the whetstone of the will, and herein +precisely lies the danger of that temperament +from the Christian point of view. +The Stoic will, if not well-ordered, is a harsh +grinding thing which sucks in and crushes +the beautiful things of life as grist beneath +its wheels. It exults in its strength with a +forbidding and unlovely pride, so different +from the beautiful diffidence of Christian +strength, which loves not the beauty of the +creatures less, but the beauty of the Creator +more, and with a kind of supernatural +Epicureanism renounces the beauty of the +fleeting for the sake of the beauty of which +it is but an image far removed, the beauty +of Him whose beauty is older than the hills +and will abide when they have crumbled +away.</p> + +<p>It is to the credit of Marcus Aurelius +that even in this he avoided to a great +extent the faults of his virtues; it is the +touch of emotion in his writings and in those +of the other later Stoics of the Empire +which gives them their charm beyond the +earlier members of the school. We have +many indications that his soul was open to +the ἀπορροὴ τοῦ κάλλους, the inflow of +beauty from sensible things, while his correspondence +with Fronto shows that his nature +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>was affectionate. Throughout the Meditations +also we see the reflection of the constant +struggle which he had with his own nature. +One who did not feel deeply would never +have insisted so much on the necessity for +control of the feelings. It is a fallacy to +think that the Stoic is necessarily dead to +humanity. In a sense, and in theory at +least, he is the truest lover of man and the +human. His sole vocation in life is the +good of the whole; the <em>caritas generis +humani</em> (love for his fellow-men), if not the +central point of their system and far from +the Christian ideal of charity in beauty and +efficacy, yet was present and active in +them. The Stoic must check his feelings +but not suppress them. It suffices that +the barrier of the will be raised and strengthened +day by day and then the feelings may +surge up behind it, ready for right use; +but as servants not as masters. Thus the +paradox is true that those have often the +strongest emotions whose emotions are +most in check.</p> + +<p>On his way back from the East the Emperor +passed through Athens. There he +found much that attracted him and much +that repelled. The schools of philosophy +were his chief interest, but he liked not their +sophisms and disputations, and the irresponsibility +which seemed irreverent towards +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>the true philosophy whose end was life. +When he thinks of the dialecticians of his +day he thanks the gods that he did not +make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, +and the other studies “in which I should +perhaps have been completely engaged, if +I had seen that I was making progress in +them.” He thinks with gratitude of +Rusticus as having taught him “not to be +led astray to sophistic emulation, nor to +writing on speculative matters, nor to +delivering little hortatory orations, nor to +showing myself off as a man who practises +much discipline or does benevolent acts +in order to make a display; and to abstain +from rhetoric and fine-writing.” “<em>Quid tibi +de generibus et speciebus?</em>” said à Kempis.</p> + +<p>But though the spirit of the schools was +repugnant to his sincerity, yet, true to his +leading principle of fostering culture, he +founded several chairs in what we may call +the University of Athens.</p> + +<p>While at Athens he was also initiated into +the Eleusinian Mysteries. This act was +not with him merely an act of State-policy, +an act of condescension to an alien religion +such as other Emperors often showed; +nor was it, as it was with Hadrian, the outcome +of a restless desire to pry into the novel +and the mysterious. With Marcus Aurelius +it was probably a sincere act of religion. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>There was much in the symbolism and +ritual of the mysteries, its hymns and processions +and dramatic representations resembling +the mystery plays of the Middle +Ages, in its fasting and nightly torchlight +processions by the sea-shore and through +the plain, which would appeal to his +ritualistic nature. The doctrines of expiation +and a future life, the καλαὶ ἐλπίδες—the +fair hopes of Eleusis, must have had an +especial attraction for him.</p> + +<p>As to his own religious views, he certainly +was not the Agnostic which Renan would +have him be. “In every time and place,” +he says, “it rests with thyself to use the +event of the hour religiously: at all seasons +worship the gods.” He asserts that it is +impious to deny the existence of the gods, +and he rests his theories of right and wrong +on the supposition of their existence. True, +as Renan points out, he often holds out to +himself the alternative of their non-existence, +but even then it is only to assert the existence +of the Divinity in another form. He +says that if they did not exist, yet truth to +our own nature would be a sufficient motive +for right action; but our nature is for him +but a part of the nature which is Divine, +and derives its sanction from its participation +in this supreme nature. His religion +was a strange mixture of monotheism, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>polytheism, and pantheism; but to atheism +he never really consents. Strictly speaking, +he had no philosophy or theology; for he +was not interested in systems as such. +Yet he never wavered in his loyalty to the +national religion, however much or little +of it he really believed when he stood at +the sacrificial altar in pontifical robes and +chanted the ancient hymns and formularies, +all of which he knew by heart.</p> + +<p>Indeed, he was more deeply interested +in the practical than in the pure reason; +and conduct was more for him than dogma: +hence it is that his thoughts are so intensely +human and universal in their appeal. His +nature, however, had little in common +with the light and frivolous agnosticism of +Renan and the dilettanti; and only a very +subjective interpretation of the Meditations +can eliminate from them the “supernatural” +element. Renan recognises this element +to a certain extent, and accounts it a +blemish “which, however, does not affect +the marvellous beauty of the work as a +whole.” It is for him, as for Matthew +Arnold, the gospel of those who walk by +sight and not by faith, “who have no faith +in the supernatural”; and it “will never +grow old because it affirms no dogma.”</p> + +<p>It is useless to inquire further into the +nature of his religious beliefs. He would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>have been at a loss to define them himself. +The great salient feature is here as elsewhere +the tragedy of a great moral nature in the +throes of superstition, of a beautiful life +deprived of its fit setting: a tragedy too +common in our own days filling wide spaces +with spiritual waste and hopeless sighs, and +making hearts desolate for that their light +is gone out or flickers low.</p> + +<p>On his return to Rome, Marcus celebrated +a splendid triumph, shared in by Commodus, +over the conquered German peoples. It +was against his own better feelings and in +concession to Roman vulgarity that he +endured this ordeal. He often expresses +his disgust for these functions and, as we +have seen, regarded conquerors as no better +than robbers. The shouts of the mob, the +long train of captives, the reeking public +banquets were little to his taste; and for +him there was no need of the attendant +who usually stood behind the conqueror on +the triumphal car to remind him that he was +a man lest he should perhaps bring down +on himself the wrath of the gods by an +unseemly arrogance.</p> + +<p>There was less need than ever on this day; +for with Commodus by his side a great sorrow +overshadowed him. He had nominated +Commodus as his successor to avoid a worse +evil—the evil of civil war, which would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>certainly have arisen had he chosen one +more worthy from his own philosophic +circle. Yet Commodus, though still a youth, +had already given full reign to his passions; +and Marcus can scarcely have failed to +foresee the disaster which he was to bring +upon the Empire. The shadow of this sorrow +and of the great loneliness which was his +during his later years, grows darker and +darker over the last books of the Meditations.</p> + +<p>As Renan has remarked, they have but +one thought, that of passing as gently as +may be from the world. In the earlier +books he gathers strength for the struggle +of life; now all is preparation for death.</p> + +<p>The evil plight of public affairs also justified +this world-weariness. The signs of +decay were already visible in Rome: the +handwriting had been seen on the walls of +the Capitol. Even Renan has to admit +that “in reality the progress effected +during the reigns of Antoninus and Marcus +Aurelius had been merely superficial. It +had been limited to a varnish of hypocrisy +and external professions, which people +assumed in order to be in harmony with the +two wise Emperors. The masses were grossly +materialistic; the army was decaying; the +laws alone had been changed for the better.” +Plague, famine, and war had done their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>work of death. Marcus did all he could to +alleviate the misery; but bad finance had +left him helpless to cope with such universal +disaster. And to fill his cup of bitterness +news was brought that his old enemies on +the Danube were in arms again. He must +needs, ill and heartsick though he was, gird +himself once more and prepare to leave +Rome for the wild North—this time never +to return.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER VIII + <br> + <span class="small1">“THE END OF THE OLD WORLD”</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The peace hastily made in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 175 was +broken two years later. The local commanders +again proved incompetent to drive +back the barbarian hordes, and Marcus had +once more to assume the command in person. +This time he decided to take with him +Commodus, in the hope perhaps that, like +so many of the Roman nobles, worthless at +home, he might develop in the provinces +those powers for government and war which +were innate in that race of rulers; or, at the +very least, in the hope of strengthening him +against effeminate influences by the hard +northern winters and the privations of +camp life.</p> + +<p>Before leaving Rome the Emperor gave a +pitiful exhibition of his powerlessness to +diffuse the light of his own philosophy +amongst his subjects; or else of the strange +grip, growing stronger as the shades drew +round him, which the pagan superstitions +had upon his soul. For seven days before his +departure the city was the scene of the +wildest religious extravagances. The older +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>gods of the West shared the honours with +their lighter brethren from the East and +South. The number of white steers sacrificed +was so great that some of the wits +circulated an epigrammatical petition from +them to the Emperor: “The white oxen to +the Emperor Marcus Aurelius: If you +return as conqueror, that will be the end of +us.” Sumptuous feasts were prepared before +every temple at which the statues of the +gods reclined: and Rome reeled in mad revel. +Quacks from all parts of the Empire gathered +in Rome and flourished during those days.</p> + +<p>Lucian has left us a vivid picture of one +of these. This was Alexander of Abonoteichos, +the prince of impostors. He had +started a new religion in Paphlagonia with +mysteries and rites based on those of +Eleusis. This had quickly spread over the +East; and with the other Eastern impostures +found a welcome at Rome. Rutilianus, a +Roman senator of consular rank, became its +patron and zealous advocate. The new +mysteries were celebrated during three +days with scenes of wild excitement and +immorality. Even the friends of Marcus +and Marcus himself were deceived. During +the Northern wars, at a word from Alexander’s +sacred serpent, Marcus had solemnly +presided in the robes of the Pontifex +Maximus over a most ridiculous ceremony. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>The Romans were assured that if they cast +two lions alive into the Danube they would +be victorious over the enemy arrayed against +them on the opposite bank. The lions were +cast in with all ceremony; but, unfortunately +for Alexander’s reputation and Marcus’ +credulity, they were beaten to death on +reaching the other bank, and the Romans, +when they crossed, fared no better.</p> + +<p>The Emperor went through a ceremony +at this time which must have been no less +revolting to him than it is to us. This was +the ancient ceremony of the casting of the +dart, a ceremony almost as old as Rome +itself. The Emperor went in procession to +the temple of Bellona, surrounded by a mob +of fanatics, who cut into their living flesh +with knives and whips and then lapped the +streaming blood—to honour and placate +their Goddess of War! Arrived at the +Temple he hurled the dart towards the +North—where his enemies were already +pressing his armies hard.</p> + +<p>When he had done all that he considered +necessary to appease the gods or to soothe +the superstitious fears of his subjects, +Marcus at length set out for the scene of +war in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 178. Of this war very little is +known. The dream of Augustus and many +of the other Emperors, given up as hopeless +by them—the extension of the Roman +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>frontier to the Elbe and the consolidation +of Roman power in the North—was almost +realised. But the Dark Shadow which had +crossed Marcus’ path so often before +drew nigh once more and for the last time. +On the eve of a great and, it would seem, +a final conquest, illness and death conquered +the Conqueror.</p> + +<p>It was in the spring of <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 180 that the +plague which had taken off half the population +of the Empire came to claim the life +of the Emperor. He fell ill, probably at +Vienna, on the 10th of March. His constitution +had never been robust and the +hardships of the last years had still further +weakened it. Hence he recognised immediately +that this illness was to be unto +death; and is said to have at once welcomed +its approach. Continual disappointment +had killed all hope within him, and with +hope the pain of hope unfulfilled; and so he +had no regrets now that that strange spirit +which had ever dogged him once more +passed by at midnight over the dreary +northern plains and entering into his tent +dashed the cup of victory from his lips. +He asked Commodus as a last request to +complete the war and then prepared for the +end. For seven days the illness lasted. On +the sixth he bade farewell to his friends. +<a id="spoke"></a>He spoke to them of the vanity of life and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>the easiness of death; commended to them +the interests of the State and Commodus, +“if he should prove worthy”; and all this +with a great calm. On the seventh day he +would see nobody except Commodus, and +him only for a short time, with a last despairing +hope perhaps of inspiring at least +one noble sentiment into that monster of +brutality. Then he seemed to sleep; and +his sleep deepened into death.</p> + +<p>It was a death free from pomp, lonely +and detached as his life had been. But +death, in whatever form it came, seems to +have had no terrors for him. He had often +faced the thought of it and always to persuade +himself that in it there was nothing +to fear, but perhaps much to hope for.</p> + +<p>His confidence in facing death sprang +from no sure hope of personal immortality. +He believed in an immortality for both +soul and body and that the gods would +care for both; but whether the life beyond +would be a continuance of the personal +life of time, or whether this human soul +should be swallowed up in the great world-soul +he knew not. “You have embarked +upon life: when you have made your voyage +debark without more ado. If you happen +to land in another world there will be gods +to take care of you there; but if it be your +fortune to drop into nothingness, why then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>you will be no more solicited with pleasure +and pain. Then you will have done drudging +for your outer covering, which is the +more unworthy in proportion as that which +serves it is worthy: for the one is all soul, +intelligence and divinity, whereas the other +is dirt and corruption.”</p> + +<p>Yet elsewhere, though admitting the +possibility of the absorption of the human +soul into the world-soul he rejects the possibility +of utter annihilation. “What is +sprung from earth dissolves to earth again +and heaven-born things fly to their native +seat.” But again he adds: “When a man +dies, and the spirit is let loose into the air, +it holds out for some time, after which it is +changed, diffused, or knotted into flame, or +else absorbed into the generative principle +of the Universe.” This is the best he can +promise us: yet how miserable a mockery +of human aspirations it is! how unsatisfying +to the longings of the soul, which seeks in +the spiritual for the most truly and intensely +real and in the spiritual and the spiritualised, +thus truly real, for the truest beauty!</p> + +<p>A philosophy which takes the brightness +out of both lives, here and beyond, reducing +both to a dull grey mist, can never be a +spiritual force, and, if it prevailed, must +result in the reversal of all ordinary judgments +of value. This was a conclusion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>frankly accepted by the Stoics, and they +carried it even to the extent of the abnegation +of man’s most absorbing desire—the +will to live. A man may even deny this: +for adequate cause he may, nay, even <em>should</em>, +take away his own life. In ordinary circumstances +man should stand at his post till +dismissed by his commander; he should +play out the tragedy of life to the end as +arranged by the dramatist: for just cause +he may quit the stage before his part is +played out. The reason is that between +life and death there is nothing to choose; +they are but successive stages of one and +the same natural process. Marcus held +that man may quit life if he finds it intolerable. +True, he says that life ought not to +be intolerable: it is our own fault if it is. +But supposing that through weakness we +cannot bear it, then “we may give it the +slip”; and again because death is not the +serious thing men imagine it to be: “What +great matter is this business of dying? If +the gods exist, you can suffer nothing, for +they will do you no harm; and if they do +not, or if they take no care of us mortals—why, +then a world without gods or providence +is not a world worth a man’s while +to live in. But in truth the being of the +gods and their concern in human affairs is +beyond dispute.” If a man is of such a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>character or placed in such circumstances +that for him a virtuous life is morally impossible, +then Marcus says he has just cause +for suicide, “for reason would rather that +you were nothing than that you were a +knave.” “You may live now, if you please, +as you would choose to do if you were near +to dying. But suppose people will not let +you—why, then, give life the slip, but by +no means make a misfortune of it. If the +room smokes, I leave it, and there is an +end; for why should one be concerned at +the matter?”</p> + +<p>Thus did he try by force of argument, +often the merest sophistry, to conjure away +the dread realities of human existence. But +when death called for one after another of his +children, he realised how futile his doctrine +was. Yet it was the best he could adhere +to, and he did but share in the cruel disenchantment +that comes sooner or later to +all who follow a false philosophy of life. +The self-deception which makes these +systems plausible in the abstract vanishes +at the cold touch of death or at a thrill of +love from a kindred heart. All that is most +sacred in life, its morality and its ideals, +the foundations of society and the aspirations +of the individual; the problems that +vex men as to the ultimate grounds of +obligation, beauty and love; the problems +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>of freedom, of evil and of immortality; the +need of the human heart for guidance and +support can receive no adequate explanation +except in the acceptance of integral Christianity—namely +Catholicism. Hence the +folly of our neo-pagan revival. Paganism +was tried and is dead with the souls and the +hopes it slew; the future lies with a vigorous +fighting Catholicity. It is vain to attempt +to resurrect the corpse which Constantine +prepared for burial. Wisdom and duty +bid us follow the system which our whole +nature cries out for: reason alone or sentiment +alone is a blind guide; truth lies in the +leading of the whole man.</p> + +<p>Yet the moral greatness which Marcus +had attained in spite of all the limitations +of his system was made very clear by the +universal grief and reverence which was +expressed at his death. When his body was +brought to Rome the whole city went into +mourning. Henceforth we are told men +spoke of him no longer by his imperial +titles, but old men spoke of him as “Marcus, +my son”; young men, as “Marcus, my +father”; and men of his own age, as +“Marcus, my brother”; such was the affection +of all for him. The decreeing of divine +honours was not in his case, as it was in +that of so many of the Emperors, a formality +or a burlesque: it was from the heart; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>the <em>vox populi</em> proclaimed him “propitious +god” before the Senate passed the formal +decree. And, truly, as St. Augustine said +of Plato, we might well pardon the pagans +if they raised a temple to him rather than +to the gods they honoured. For more than +a century after his death his statue was +to be seen amongst the household gods in +the hearth-shrines of the whole Western +Empire, and men looked askance at a +chance defaulter to this cult. He was the +model of succeeding Emperors, and Christian +writers vied with pagans in their praises +of him. Even in our own time that strange, +melancholy figure is dear to all that know +him: there is a pathos and an interest in +his life and thoughts which is unique: +“Everyone of us wears mourning in his +heart for Marcus Aurelius as though he +died but yesterday.”</p> + +<p>Renan was right in this; but we cannot +admit his further statement that “the day +of the death of Marcus Aurelius can be +taken as the decisive moment at which the +ruin of ancient civilisation was decided.” +It was decided long before; perhaps it +would be nearer the truth to say that the +day of Marcus’ accession was the first day +of decadence, as it was the last of the old +type of Roman rule. But in truth the fate +of empires never hangs on a single day or a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>single ruler. They grow and they decay +over long centuries: the seed of life and the +rot of death is working long before its effects +appear without; and in the reign of Marcus +the Empire was already doomed. The old +Roman virtues—those especially which +form the <em>morale</em> of an imperial race—strict +probity, sacrifice of individual interests to +the good of the State, initiative, enterprise +and the fighting qualities were all dissolving. +In their place was being developed the +citizen, who is ever the product of centralisation—the +man without originality, devotion, +or virtue; who is interested in subtlety +rather than in truth; wrapped up in his own +petty world, incapable of heroism or sacrifice.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this death there was a +strange stirring of life in the North and in +the East—a life which was to feed on the +death of the Empire. The forbears of +Alaric and his Goths had already knocked +at the gate and announced his coming. The +eloquent pleadings of the Christian apologists +addressed to Marcus himself told of a +new stirring in the spiritual and intellectual +world—of a new vision which he and his +friends could not or would not see; and the +brave words and noble deeds of the martyrs +told that there was life in this new creed—yes! +life and love to conquer Stoic apathy +and pagan death.</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER IX + <br> + <span class="smcap">THE MARTYRS OF CHRIST</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>In reading the Meditations of Marcus +Aurelius we frequently are struck by the +almost Christian spirit which permeates +them. Mr. F. H. Myers has well said: +“Whatever winds of the Spirit may sweep +over the sea of souls the life of Marcus will +remain for ever the high-water mark of the +unassisted virtue of man.” So sublime +and seemingly preternatural is his spirit that +men in all ages have asked and answered in +various ways the questions: “Has Christianity +anything better to offer us? and if +so, in what precisely does it consist?” +It is as an answer to these questions that I +introduce this brief reference to the story +of the Martyrs, preferably a few of the many +that suffered under Marcus himself.</p> + +<p>During his reign the Church endured a +persecution severer than any it had yet +known. How far he was personally responsible +for this we cannot tell. He was not +wholly guilty nor yet wholly innocent. He +certainly ordered the torture and execution +of the Martyrs of Lyons; his most intimate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>friend sentenced St. Justin to death at +Rome; and his most trusted lawyer condemned +St. Felicitas and her sons; but, on +the other hand, many of the persecutions +were due to the anger of the mob, and withal +he knew not what he did. The Christians +were to him merely an uncultured and +fanatical sect without a single redeeming +virtue. In the only passage in the Meditations +where he mentions them he attributes +their constancy in death to sheer +perverseness. After expressing his admiration +for a soul, “which is ready, if +at any moment it must be separated +from the body, to be extinguished, or +dissolved, or to continue to exist,” he +adds, “but this readiness must come +from a man’s own judgment, not from mere +obstinacy as with the Christians, but with +considerateness, with gravity, so as to be +persuasive without tragic show.” With +such a view of the Christian character it +is not strange that he felt no qualms in +sanctioning, though he did not instigate, +the first persecution that bore the semblance +of being universal and systematic.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, Roman tradition was law +for him; and Roman tradition was very +clear as to the treatment which Christians +deserved. The superstitious pagans attributed +all public calamities to the wrath of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>their gods, and this wrath to the contempt +which the Christians showed for the pagan +idols. As Tertullian puts it: “The +Christians are the cause of all disasters, of +all public calamities. If the Tiber floods +Rome, if the Nile does not flood the plains, +if the heavens are closed, if the earth trembles, +if a famine takes place or a war or a +plague, immediately a cry is raised ‘The +Christians to the lions! to death with the +Christians!’” Now, the reign of Marcus +was one of singular calamities, all the more +aggravating because unforeseen and irresistible +and devastating the city and the +Empire at the culminating point of their +prosperity. The reign opened with wars +and rumours of wars on the frontiers; the +Tiber overflowed Rome; there had been a +plague and a famine. Here truly was the +anger of the gods against the Roman welfare—the +<em>deorum ira in rem Romanam</em> of Tacitus. +The mob howled for Christian blood; and +Marcus was too weak or too little concerned +to resist. Antoninus, Hadrian, Trajan had +consented to the torture of the fanatics, +though they had not shared the popular +prejudices against them; many of the +lawyers and philosophers had counselled it +for the good of the State; why should he +say no? His better nature probably revolted +from such brutality, but it is the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>misfortune of diffident conventionalists, such +as he, that they sacrifice their better instincts +to the received views of ruder natures.</p> + +<p>The first victims of the superstition of the +Romans and the conventionality of their +Emperor were St. Felicitas and her sons. +Their trial and death forms a celebrated +episode in the history of the martyrs. It +well illustrates the spirit of the martyrs⁠<a id="FNanchor_A_1" href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> +and the great things which the Church +was doing for the weak ones of the world; +how that out of the mouths of babes and +sucklings she was perfecting praise through +the strong love of Christ which was the +inheritance of her children.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a id="Footnote_A_1" href="#FNanchor_A_1" class="label">[A]</a> This is admitted even by those scholars who regard, +and rightly it would seem, these Acts as a historical +romance, <em>but founded on facts</em>. Since the main facts +are true, and my concern is to illustrate the spirit of +the martyrs, this testimony seemed sufficient justification +for quoting the Acts.</p> +</div> + +<p>The Act tells us that “owing to indignation +amongst the Pontiffs, Felicitas, a +woman of high rank, was struck down with +her seven most Christian sons.” Her life +had been a source of great edification to her +fellow-Christians, and the Pontiffs “seeing +that, thanks to her, the good repute of the +Christian name was growing, spoke of her +to Augustus Antoninus (i.e., Marcus Aurelius), +saying: ‘This widow and her sons are +outraging our gods to our great peril. If +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>she does not pay homage to the gods, your +majesty must know that they will be so +angry that they cannot be appeased.’ Then +the Emperor ordered the Prefect of the City +to compel her and her sons to appease the +wrath of the gods by sacrifice.”</p> + +<p>This Prefect of the City was Publius +Salvius Julianus, the most distinguished +and trusted of Roman lawyers; and before +him Felicitas was now brought for trial. +He attempted first by blandishments, then +by threats, to persuade her to sacrifice. She +replied: “You cannot entice me by blandishments +nor frighten me by threats, for I +have within me the Holy Spirit, Who keeps +me from being conquered by the devil: +this is my ground for assurance, that living +I shall overcome thee and when dead I shall +triumph still more.” “At least let your +children live.” “My children live if they +do not sacrifice to idols; but if they commit +such a crime, they shall go to eternal death.” +Thus ended this first interview between +Publius, a Roman of the old school, with a +strong sense of justice as he understood it, +but understanding it only as identified with +Roman law, and this Roman matron of noble +birth, who had left the darkness for the +light.</p> + +<p>Next day she and her sons were again +brought before the Prefect. “Have pity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>on your sons,” said he, “those fine young +fellows yet in the flower of their youth.” +Felicitas replied: “Your pity is impious +and your advice cruel.” Turning to +her children she added: “Lift up your +eyes to heaven, my children, look aloft +where Christ awaits you with His saints. +Do battle for your souls and show yourselves +faithful in the love of Christ.” At +this Publius ordered her to be buffeted. +“Darest thou in my presence counsel contempt +for the Emperor’s orders!”</p> + +<p>Then he called each of the seven sons in +turn. He cajoled; he threatened; but to +no avail. The first, Januarius, replied: +“The wisdom of the Lord sustains me and +will enable me to overcome all.” He was +beaten and sent back to prison, but the +second was not cowed: “We adore one +only God,” he replied, “to Whom we offer +the sacrifice of a pious devotion. Think not +that you can separate me or any of my +brothers from the love of the Lord Jesus +Christ. Even under the threat of blows +and your unjust designs our faith cannot +be conquered or changed.” To the third +son, Philip, the Prefect said: “Our Lord, +the Emperor, has ordered that you sacrifice +to the all-powerful gods.” The boy replied: +“They are neither gods nor all-powerful but +worthless, wretched, insensible images, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>those who sacrifice to them will incur eternal +risk.” Silvanus made a similar reply and +then Alexander was sent forward. Him the +judge tried to win by kindness: “Have pity +on thine age and on thy life, still in the +prime of its youth. Be not obstinate but +do what most will please our Sovereign: +sacrifice to the gods that you may become +one of the friends of Cæsar and gain both +your life and the good-will of the Emperors.” +The privilege of being “a friend of Cæsar” +was a great one. These <em>amici Cæsaris</em> +formed a narrow circle round the Emperor, +and the honour was coveted even by the +highest in Rome. But it was no temptation +to the Christian youth; he had a higher +title: “I am the servant of Christ; I +confess Him with my lips; I remain +devoted to Him with my heart; I adore +Him unceasingly. My years, so weak, as +you see, have yet the prudence of old age +and adore one only God. Thy gods and +their adorers shall perish.” The two remaining +children were equally unyielding, +equally ardent in their love for Christ. +They were all sent back to prison and +Publius drew up a report of the process +and sent it to the Emperor. What were +Marcus’ thoughts on reading it, if he read +it at all.</p> + +<p>Whatever his thoughts, he ordered the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>martyrs different tortures under various +officials in different parts of the city. The +first child died under the lash shod with +lead, the second and third under the bludgeon; +the fourth was hurled from a precipice, +while the remaining three and Felicitas +herself were mercifully beheaded. The +reason for the severity and variety of the +sentences may have been, as Allard suggests, +the Emperor’s desire to strike the +imagination of the people and cause them +to believe that the gods had had enough of +victims. He must have abhorred such +cruelty, but he was too weak to resist the +clamour of the priests and mob of Rome as +Pilate had been in presence of other priests +and another mob. Interpret his conduct +as we will, mere natural virtue and the +maxims of the philosophers show ill beside +the folly of the Cross. Children and a weak +woman put to shame this paragon of +virtues; but, if they did so, the glory was +not theirs but Christ’s; it was His love that +nerved them to brave the lash, the bludgeon +and the axe; He Who bade them be His +witnesses to the ends of the earth, was in +them, and suffered for them, because they +suffered for Him. It is mockery and +sophistry to think that such strength could +come from frail humanity.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p> + +<p>St. Felicitas and her sons fell victims +to the prejudices of the priests and the +mob. The martyrdom of St. Justin and his +companions was due to another force that +was strongly to resist the advance of +Christianity—namely, the opposition of the +philosophers. The priests and the mob +hated the Christians for the contempt with +which they treated the State religion. The +philosophers had an additional motive for +hatred in their jealousy of the influence of +the new teachers. “You see we profit +nothing: the whole world is gone after +Him.”</p> + +<p>St. Justin, like many of the great Christian +apologists, had come to the Church through +the Greek schools. He had searched for +truth in all the beaten paths of Greek +philosophy and found it not. “Nobody +had such faith in Socrates as to die for his +doctrines,” he tells us; and it was the +eloquence of the martyrs’ sufferings which +converted him. The voice of Christ said +“Come,” and the heart of the pagan said +“Come, Lord Jesus.” He became a Christian +and devoted to the cause of making +Christ known the whole ardour of heart and +intellect with which he had sought and +found Him. This Christian Socrates would +walk in his philosopher’s dress, which he +still retained, through the public places of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>the city—the porches of the temples, the +colonnades, and porticoes and baths, where +the <em>élite</em> of Rome used to lounge each day +discussing the latest society scandal, the +news from the provinces, the elections or the +games, and in these places he would converse +and dispute with all comers. He had in +this way inflicted severe humiliations on +many of the pagan philosophers, who +went about denouncing the Christians, and +earned their thorough hatred. One especially +was bitter against him. This was +Crescens, a Cynic, whom Justin long expected +would denounce him and who did so +at length.</p> + +<p>Justin and six of his disciples were +arrested and brought before the Prefect of +the City, Junius Rusticus, the Emperor’s +most trusted and intimate friend. The +dialogue between these two men, both +trained in the Greek schools of philosophy +but now completely alienated, is typical of +the conflict between old and new which +marks the age of the Antonines.</p> + +<p>“To begin,” said the Prefect, “obey the +gods and do what the Emperors command.” +Justin replied: “We cannot be accused or +blamed for obeying the precepts of Our +Saviour Jesus Christ.” “What doctrines +do you profess?” “I have studied all +doctrines in turn and have settled in that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>of the Christians, although it is disliked by +the advocates of error.” “What dogma is +that?” “The doctrine which we Christians +devotedly follow, the only true doctrine, is +the belief in one only God, Creator of all +things, visible and invisible, and the confession +of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, +Whom also the prophets announced, Who +is to judge the race of man, the Herald of +Salvation, and the Teacher of all those who +have good-will to be taught by Him. And +I consider myself, being but man, incapable +of speaking worthily of His Infinite Deity. +That is the work of the prophets. They for +centuries, inspired from on high, announced +the coming amongst men of Him Whom I +have said is the Son of God.” Here was a +revelation to the devotee of Epictetus, one +of the best of pagans; but he paid no heed. +“Where do you Christians meet?” he +asked. “The God of the Christians is not +confined to any place; He fills Heaven and +earth with His invisible presence; in every +place the faithful adore and praise Him.” +“You are then a Christian?” “Yes, I am +a Christian.” Turning to Justin’s companions +he asked the same question and +got the same reply. To the slave Euelpistus, +he said: “And you, what are you?” “I +am a slave of Cæsar, but also a Christian, +and I have got my freedom from Christ; by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>His goodness, through His grace, I have one +hope with these.”</p> + +<p>Here for the first time was realised the +equality of man in its truest sense. Rusticus +might well have recalled the words of his +master Epictetus: “The slave, like you, +derives his origin from Jupiter himself; he +is his son like you; he is born of the same +divine seed.” But he gave no token of +sympathy. The winged word of Euelpistus: +“a slave of Cæsar but a freedman +of Christ” passed like an arrow through +his mind and left not a trace of its +passage.</p> + +<p>Turning again to Justin he said: “Listen +to me, you who are called learned, and +think that you have the true doctrine; if +I get you scourged and beheaded, think you +that you must needs go up to Heaven?” +“I hope,” answered Justin, “to receive the +reward destined for those who keep the +commandments of Christ, if I suffer the +tortures you promise me. For I know that +those who have lived thus will keep the +Divine favour to the end of the world.” +“You think, then, that you will mount up +to Heaven, there to receive your reward,” +said the judge with a sneer. “I do not +think it, I know it, I am certain of it without +a doubt.” This assurance of a future life +of happiness fell strangely on the ears of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>the Stoic philosopher. His heart craved for +it but at best he could hope for immortality +only, “if it were best for the whole Kosmos +that it should be so.” He gave his final +command to sacrifice to the idols and received +a final refusal; and all were immediately +sent to execution.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>More famous than either the martyrdom +of St. Felicitas or of St. Justin was the martyrdom +at Lyons of forty-eight Christians, +afterwards known as the martyrdom of the +Maccabees. It is typical of the persecutions +in the provinces as the others were of those +in Rome, and fortunately we still possess +the beautiful letter of the churches of Lyons +and Vienne to the churches of Asia which +gives a full account of it. It took place in +<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 177, when Marcus Aurelius had already +reigned for sixteen years and within three +years of his death. He was then grappling +with the barbarians on the Danube frontier +and the plague was working havoc in the +provinces as in Rome and Italy. Superstition +broke out on all sides with renewed +force and with especial intensity at Lyons, +the religious capital of the Three Gauls. +The old calumnies against the Christians +were revived. They were accused of +infanticide and incest, of treachery to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>the State, of secret conspiracy, and of +contempt for the gods and hatred of mankind. +To them was due the anger of the +gods; and by their blood alone could it be +satiated.</p> + +<p>The persecution began by a social ostracism +of the Christians from all intercourse +with their fellow-citizens in the baths, +the forum and the other public places of the +city, and even in private houses. If they +violated this order they were beaten and +stoned in the streets. So violent did this +persecution become that the magistrates +had at last to arrest all known to be Christians +and examine them before the people. +All confessed to the faith and were thrown +into prison to await the arrival of the +Imperial legate.</p> + +<p>Immediately on his arrival the formal trial +began. By a strange travesty of justice +the prisoners were first cruelly tortured. +Stirred by this a young nobleman, Vettius +Epagathus, stood out from the crowd and +demanded to be allowed to plead their +cause. He was already a Christian of +ascetic life and loved by his brethren as “a +gracious disciple of Christ following the +Lamb whithersoever He went.” “Are +you a Christian?” the legate asked him. +“I am a Christian,” in his boldest tones. +He was immediately put amongst the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>accused. “Behold the Christian’s advocate,” +jeered the judge.</p> + +<p>In this trial ten of the accused, weaker +and worse prepared than the rest, denied +Christ. This was a matter of far keener +anguish to the faithful than their own +sufferings. But the ranks thus broken were +soon filled up by others, amongst them +their aged Bishop, Pothinus. Meanwhile +the slaves of Christian masters had been +arrested, and tortured and bribed into +swearing to all the current charges. Their +evidence lashed the mob to still greater +fury. No torture was now to be spared. +A second time the Christians were placed +at the gentle mercies of the torturers; this +repetition of the torture in such cases having +been legalised by Marcus. But nothing +could break the spirit of these warriors; +they rejoiced to be accounted worthy to +suffer something for Him they loved. How +intense was the nerving power of love in +the souls of Sanctus the deacon and the +slave-girl Blandina!</p> + +<p>Sanctus when questioned again and again +did but answer: “I am a Christian.” +Even when the white-hot plates of brass were +applied to his body and his flesh hissed and +seared beneath them, in all his agony, his one +relief was to proclaim again and again: “I +am a Christian.” “Bathed and refreshed,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>his brethren tell us, “in the heavenly +well of living water which flows from the +breasts of Christ,” every fresh torture was +to him “a refreshment and a remedy rather +than a punishment.”</p> + +<p>But his courage was as nothing to that +of Blandina. She was the bravest of the +brave in the bravest of all armies—the +“witnesses” of Christ. Her mistress and +her fellow-Christians dreaded lest from her +frail, sensitive frame she should give way, +as ten stronger had done before. They +misjudged, however, the power of love; the +right hand of the Lord wrought strength in +her. She had no words of surrender, no +cry for mercy. From morning till evening +she wearied out several sets of torturers, +who retired baffled and amazed that she +still lived. “I am a Christian and we do +nothing wrong,” was her cry again and +again amidst her pains; and fresh and fresh +with each repetition came new strength and +courage. Renan rightly says of her: “As +to the maid-servant Blandina, she proved +that a revolution had been achieved. The +true emancipation of the slave, emancipation +by heroism, was in great measure her +work. The pagan slave was supposed to be +essentially wicked and immoral. What +better way to rehabilitate and free him than +to show him capable of the same virtues, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>the same sacrifices, as the freeman? How +were these women to be treated with disdain, +who had been seen acting with even +more sublime heroism than their mistresses +in the amphitheatre? The good Lyonese +maid-servant had heard it said that the +judgments of God are the overthrow of +human appearances, and that God is often +pleased to choose that which is humblest, +ugliest, and most despised to confound +that which seems beautiful and strong. +Inspired by her rôle she called for the torture +and burned with eagerness to suffer.” +It is the glory of Christianity to have raised +the off-scourings of mankind to such sublimity. +Galen acknowledged that the conduct +of the ordinary Christian was as noble +as that of the most enlightened of the +philosophers. He wrote as one who had +been a contemporary of Epictetus and +physician to Marcus Aurelius and intimate +with the best lives which paganism produced. +We who read the lives of the martyrs whole +and appreciate the motives of their heroism +know that it is an irreverence to compare +with their virtue the virtue even of Epictetus +and Marcus Aurelius. Yet it is well to have +this testimony of an enlightened pagan +contemporary to the elevating power of +Christianity on the masses.</p> + +<p>The final execution was spread over +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>several days. The legate made the occasion +a public holiday; and delegates from all +Gaul, then present at Lyons for administrative +and religious purposes, witnessed +the spectacle.</p> + +<p>Maturus, Sanctus, Attalus and Blandina +were chosen to provide the first day’s entertainment. +Their tortures, we are told, +saved the town the expense of a gladiatorial +show. Christians were more novel game +and cheaper than hired soldiers, lions and +panthers. Blandina was bound all but +naked to a pole at the end of the amphitheatre. +She was to be at the mercy of the +beasts; and the beasts proved more merciful +than the yelling savage mob, who crowded +tier over tier all around. That day none of +them would touch the frail, delicate form +that, bound as it was, recalled to the martyrs +another form bound too by the Romans on +a hill outside Jerusalem. She was reserved +for another day, and meanwhile her fortitude +gave courage to all.</p> + +<p>Attalus was a Roman citizen well-known +to the people. Hence they called for his +torture as for a favourite actor or gladiator. +He was forced to walk round the amphitheatre +amid the jeers of the spectators, +preceded by a placard with the motto +“This is Attalus, the Christian.” But the +rights of a Roman citizen were not to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>outraged with impunity; and so the legate +sent Attalus back to prison without torture, +there to await the Emperor’s orders.</p> + +<p>No such rights protected Maturus and +Sanctus; their bodies were already each a +mass of wounds from their former tortures; +and they would be well spent in making a +people’s holiday. A file of roughs lashed +their naked, lacerated bodies as they passed +into the arena. Their eyes fell on the +instruments of torture—a gruesome array—along +the centre; and then the awful moment +came. A sullen growl and a roar from the +farther end, and already the beasts were +upon them. A thrill of mad excitement +ran through the throng above. The beasts +sank their teeth in the Christians’ flesh and +lapped the Christians’ blood, and many a +pagan envied them the feast. But, sure of +their prey, they did not devour them at +once; they tossed them to and fro in cruel +sport and left them for the time. The mob +were impatient; they wanted death; and +called for the red-hot iron chair. Into this +the martyrs were placed and the foul smell +of the burnt flesh was incense to the nostrils +of the holiday makers. But the Christians +would not recant; the beasts would have +no more of them; and it was slow sport +watching this roasting process; so at a +signal from the mob they received the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span><em>coup de grace</em>, the <em>finale</em> of all the people’s +pleasures.</p> + +<p>Here as ever persecution did but beget +fresh victims. The whole Christian population +was aflame with desire to confess +Christ; and even transgressed the wise +rule of the Church, which forbade them to +seek imprisonment. But in this moment +of spiritual intensity discretion were out of +place; who can blame them for not standing +meekly by when their brethren were writhing +in torture and the name of Christ was +being blasphemed? They can well afford +to concede superiority in this always somewhat +suspicious virtue of discretion to their +arm-chair critics; they will have enough +left to secure for themselves Heaven and +the homage of mankind. The number of +the accused increased day by day, especially +the number of Roman citizens. This +alarmed the legate, and he sent for instructions +to the Emperor. After some weeks +the reply came: those who recanted were +to be released, the obstinate were to be +put to death with torture. After all allowance +has been made for the circumstances +of the time and his own inevitable ignorance, +this act remains a dark stain on the Stoic +saint.</p> + +<p>The last act of this long-drawn tragedy +at last began. A final inquiry was held by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>the legate, this time chiefly in order to discriminate +the Roman citizens from the non-citizens. +The latter were to receive the +full measure of torture; the former were to +be beheaded outright—all except Attalus, +who was reserved for the arena as a +favour to the mob. In this last trial despite +promises and threats not one, even of those +who had before fallen, wavered. The +executions continued for several days, +owing to the great numbers of the martyrs. +Each day from early morning the pagans +thronged the amphitheatre. Attalus and +Alexander were the next victims. They +went through the whole gamut of pain +without a word or a groan, their souls +wrapped in prayer the while. Finally they +were finished off by the sword when the +mob tired of them. Blandina and Ponticus +were subjected again to yet fiercer torments, +ending in death—torments so +cruel that the Gauls said one to another: +“Never in our country has woman endured +so much.”</p> + +<p>The whole proceedings are a terrible +commentary on the rule of the philosopher-king +and Gibbon’s picture of the Golden +Age, “the happiest period of the world’s +history, when the good of the subject was +the one object of government.” Much may +be admitted to palliate Marcus’ connivance, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>but assuredly he cannot be wholly excused. +We can acquit him of monstrous brutality; +but only at the cost of attributing to him +narrow prejudice or pusillanimity. We can +save his heart, but only at the expense of +his intellect and will.</p> + +<p>I have dwelt on a few of the many +martyrdoms of his reign to show the conduct +and the ideals of Christianity side by +side with the conduct of the pagan philosophers. +What reasonable being can read +aright the story of this struggle and yet +prefer the cold, negative, ineffectual ideals +of Marcus and his friends to the warm +throbbing life of love and the heroic death +of Ponticus and Blandina, of Justin and +Felicitas? Yet, if we are to believe Renan +and Arnold, the Meditations of Marcus are +the force which will transform the world +when, to quote Renan, the Gospel and the +<em>Imitation of Christ</em> have passed away, and +on the hillside of Lyons where the martyrs +died “a temple shall rise to the Supreme +Amnesty and contain a chapel for all causes, +all virtues, all martyrs.” Surely this is +dilettanteism and paradox run wild, as +untrue to psychology as it is to history and +all sane and effective religion!</p> + + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CHAPTER X + <br> + <span class="small1">THE PAGAN À KEMPIS</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius have +often been compared with the <em>Imitation +of Christ</em>. The comparison is interesting; +and the analysis which it involves of one +of the noblest and purest of pagan ascetics +on the one hand, and of the great exponent +of Christian asceticism on the other, cannot +but strengthen belief in the divine origin +of Christianity. Unfortunately, we cannot +attempt anything like a complete analysis +of the two books; and we must be content +to call attention to a few points of resemblance +and difference in the two ascetics; +and estimate their respective values as +salves to wounded souls.</p> + +<p>The appraisers of “disinterested” and +“undogmatic” morality have professed to +find in the pagan book a surer guide to life. +They find it more human, less scholastic, +freer and fresher. Renan has voiced this +view with his usual brilliance and fickle +impressionism.</p> + +<p>It is true of course that the <em>Imitation of +Christ</em> is built on Christian dogma and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>steeped in Christian mysticism. But this +is not matter of discredit to the <em>Imitation</em> +but of glory to Christianity. It is because +the martyrs were strengthened by Christian +dogmas and ideals that they alone surpassed +Aurelius in that age. There is far less of +rigid adherence to the letter of formulæ +and infinitely more of spirit, of unction, of +personal devotion in the <em>Imitation</em>. If +dogma did not hinder but rather inspired +a book which gives such freedom to the +spirit, it is time to revise some of the current +cant about the sterility of theology, its +fettering of the spirit, and the witty definition +of dogmatism as “puppyism grown big.”</p> + +<p>Those who have embraced Christianity +and walked its peaceful paths can have no +doubt as to the superiority of the <em>Imitation</em> +in all that is beautiful, good and true. +But even positivists, professing completely +to reject the supernatural, find in à Kempis +a unique charm. George Eliot, the best of +them, has told us in inspired words what +the <em>Imitation</em> was to her:—</p> + +<p>“I suppose that is the reason why the +small, old-fashioned book, for which you +need only pay sixpence at a bookstall, +works miracles to this day, turning bitter +waters into sweetness; while expensive +sermons and treatises newly issued leave all +things as they were before. It was written +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>down by a hand that waited for the heart’s +prompting; it is the chronicle of a solitary +hidden anguish, struggle, trust and triumph—not +written on velvet cushions to teach +endurance to those who are treading with +bleeding feet on the stones. And so it +remains at all times a lasting record of +human needs and human consolations; the +voice of a brother, who, ages ago, felt and +suffered and renounced—in the cloister, +perhaps, with serge gown and tonsured +head, with much chanting and long fasts, +and with a fashion of speech different from +ours—but under the same silent far-off +heavens, and with the same passionate +desires, the same strivings, the same failures, +the same weariness.”</p> + +<p>This is the opinion of one who has deprived +the <em>Imitation</em> of its supernatural +element. And even from the purely natural +point of view, what more beautiful than the +teachings of à Kempis on the true conduct +of life? But this is not its characteristic +charm, and one suspects that it is not the +purely natural element in à Kempis that +fascinates the positivist humanitarians; it +is the supernatural element; and the attraction +is but the strong cry of their spiritual +nature revolting against the materialism to +which their “positive” tenets lead; just +as that same need for a religion led the best +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>of them, even at the cost of inconsistency, +to establish with much ritual and fantastic +aberrations the cult of Humanity.</p> + +<p>But there is no need to settle the question +between the two books by authority. +Were it necessary to do so, one need but +recall the multitudes of all classes and creeds, +from St. Francis Xavier and St. Ignatius to +Leibnitz and Bossuet and thence to Wesley, +George Eliot, Gladstone, and Gordon, for +whom the <em>Imitation</em> has been a shining +light and a guide upon their path second +only to the Sacred Books themselves. To +join that number one has but to take and +read. The points of similarity between the +two books consist in many maxims common +to both, such as “that we ought not to +regard the opinion of men”; “that we +ought to keep the passions in restraint”; +“that we ought to despise pleasures and +endure hardship with patience”; “that +we are not to be too much attached to life +and to earthly things”; “that we ought +to bear with the faults of others and return +good for evil.” This similarity is, however, +to a great extent merely verbal. The same +words do not express the same spiritual +attitude in the two writers. It is merely +the resemblance which prevails between +all the great ascetical writers, from Seneca +and Epictetus to St. Francis, St. Ignatius +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>and Bunyan, and thence to modern writers +such as William James. They all study by +introspection the same human soul with the +same natural faculties and tendencies, +strength and weakness, in all its varying +moods of joy and sadness, perplexity and +peace. Whereas the differences are measured +only by the distance between the natural +and the supernatural and show themselves +in the whole spirit and atmosphere, tone and +motive, of the two books.</p> + +<p>I have already hinted in passing at the +sympathy there is between à Kempis and +Marcus Aurelius in their contempt of sophistry +and vain learning. But this similarity +of view does but bring out all the more +strikingly the difference in motive and +the manifest superiority of the Christian. +Aurelius was glad that he had not made +more proficiency in the rhetorical and sophistical +training of the day; and for the praiseworthy +motive that thus he might have +more leisure to attend to the main work of +life—his own perfection. But how cold is +his analysis beside the glowing words of +à Kempis. The pagan seeks leisure for an +introspection too often morbid; the Christian +wishes for silence of the schools that +God Himself may speak within him, and in +the ecstasy of this holy discipleship cries +out:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p> + +<p>“Happy is he whom Truth teacheth by +itself, not by figures and words that pass, +but as it is in itself.... It is a great folly +for us to neglect things profitable and +necessary and willingly to busy ourselves +about those which are curious and hurtful.... +He to whom the Eternal Word +speaketh is set at liberty from a multitude +of opinions.... O Truth, my God, +make me one with Thee in everlasting love. +I am wearied with often reading and hearing +many things; in Thee is all that I will or +desire. Let all teachers hold their peace; +let all creatures be silent in Thy sight; +speak Thou alone to me.”</p> + +<p>In passing, we may compare this prayer +and the whole mystic rapture and personal +heart-cries of the <em>Imitation</em> with Aurelius’ +idea of a perfect prayer: “A prayer of the +Athenians: Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, down +on the ploughed fields of the Athenians and +on the plains. In truth we ought not to +pray at all or we ought to pray in this simple +and noble fashion.” This simplicity was a +great advance on the hypocrisy and verbiage +which often marked Roman prayers and +provided matter for satire to Horace and +Juvenal; but, after all, it does not present +us with any very lofty ideal. So, too, when +he speaks of the objects which we ought +to pray for: “Why dost thou not ask that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>the gods may give thee the faculty of not +fearing any of the things thou fearest, or +of not desiring any of the things thou +desirest, or not being pained at anything +rather than pray that any of these things +should not happen or happen? One man +prays thus: How shall I not lose my little +son? Do thou pray thus: How shall I not +be afraid to lose him. In fine, turn thy +prayers this way, and see what comes.” +All this does Aurelius credit, but it is far +from the outpouring of the soul to God, +which is the essence of the Christian book.</p> + +<p>Both books teach that peace must come +through strife—strife without and strife +within. The Stoic like the Christian +teaches that life is a warfare; that safety +lies in continual vigilance; in restraint over +our lower nature; in retirement and self-examination; +in regarding all the things +of time as of no account in themselves. +“Look within,” says Aurelius, “within is +the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble +up, if thou wilt ever dig”; “the mind +maintains its own tranquillity by retiring +into itself”; “retire into thyself. The +rational principle which rules has this +nature, that it is content with itself when it +does what is just and so secures tranquillity”; +“the mind which is free from +passions is a citadel, for man has nothing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>more secure to which he can fly for refuge +and for the future be inexpugnable.” À +Kempis also bids us “seek a proper time +to retire into thyself” but this retirement +is not into solitude; it is to the most sublime +communion: “Shut the door upon thyself +and call to thee Jesus thy beloved. Stay +with Him in thy cell, for thou shalt not find +so great peace anywhere else”; for “whosoever +aims at arriving at internal and +spiritual things must with Jesus go aside +from the crowd”; “in silence and quiet +the devout soul goes forward and learns the +secrets of the Scriptures”; “for God, with +His holy angels, will draw nigh to Him who +withdraws himself from his acquaintances +and friends.”</p> + +<p>The ideal of à Kempis is by subjection of +the passions to reach the interior freedom +which begets all the Christian virtues until +these in turn are concentrated into one +strong glow of love by which the lover is +united to his Beloved, heart to heart, and +soul to soul. It is this love which makes +his short sentences quiver and glow and +pierce, especially in the beautiful chapter +on the effects of Divine love, where he prays +that he may cast off the human and put on +God:—</p> + +<p>“Free me from evil passions and heal my +mind of all disorderly affections, that being +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>healed and well purified in my interior I +may become fit to love, courageous to suffer, +and constant to persevere. Love is an +excellent thing, a great good indeed, which +alone maketh light all that is burthensome +and beareth with even mind all that is +unequal.... The love of Jesus is noble +and it spurreth us on to do great things and +exciteth us to desire always that which is +most perfect.... Nothing is sweeter +than love, nothing stronger, nothing higher, +nothing broader, nothing more pleasant, +nothing more generous, nothing fuller, or +better in heaven or earth; for love is from +God and cannot rise but in God, above all +things created.”</p> + +<p>It is scarcely necessary to say that the +Stoic had no such ideal as this; for it is +essentially a Christian ideal.</p> + +<p>À Kempis soars on the wings of love +through the spirit world at home amongst +the angels; while the Stoic trudges drearily +along the hard, bleak road of logic; and once +more logic is convicted of futility as a +complete guide to life. Follow reason, said +the Stoic: reason tells you that you can +guide your own destinies and mould your +own inner life: rely on yourself, since +you can rely on nobody else: be self-sufficient. +This self-sufficiency was the +parent of hardness and at times of an unlovely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> +spiritual pride. Aurelius seems to +thank God that he is not as the rest of men; +he is better than the pharisee only in that +he pities the publican and acknowledges +that he himself has that within him which +could lead him to lower depths did he cease +to follow the Stoic ascesis; but his pity has +frequently something of spiritual disdain +and contempt in it. Yet he is not wholly +proud; there is in him a certain modesty +and self-suppression which often in its +expression reminds us of sayings of à +Kempis; but he never learnt to think: +“We are all frail; but do thou think no +one more frail than thyself.” “If thou +wouldst know and learn anything useful, love +to be unknown and esteemed as nothing; +this is the highest and most profitable +lesson, truly to know and despise oneself”; +or with St. Paul “who is weak and I am +not weak.” But we should not expect +unaided reason to reach these heights. À +Kempis himself tells us that light comes to +the soul only when reason is transcended by +faith and love: “If thou reliest more upon +thine own reason or industry than upon the +virtue that subjects to Jesus Christ, thou +wilt seldom and hardly be an enlightened +man; for God will have us perfectly subject +to Himself, and to transcend all reason by +ardent love.” “Reason transcended by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>ardent love”: in this is expressed the whole +relation between Christianity and all +systems that rely on reason alone. The +soul itself in all its aspirations is, as Tertullian +said, naturally Christian, and it is +only by a Procrustean torture that it can +be forced into any other system.</p> + +<p>The inadequacy of Aurelius’ teaching +is brought out most clearly in the shallow +optimism with which he tries to conjure +away all the sufferings of life. Nothing can +be more unreal than his attitude towards +evil. We turn to à Kempis and at once we +are struck by the contrast. Suffering and +evil are for à Kempis an intense reality. +He does not attempt to waive them away +with the magic formula “Never mind.” +No; it is because they are realities, often +terrible realities, that they are the most +precious things in life with the power to +transmute the human into the Divine. He +recognises that no ordinary motive can +reconcile frail humanity to the trials of life; +that many are ready to follow Jesus to the +breaking of bread but few to the drinking +of the chalice of His passion; that only an +ardent personal love and loyalty to Christ +can induce men to take up their cross and +follow Him, Who has gone before bearing +His cross. When suffering is borne in this +spirit it loses the unreasonableness which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>besets all other explanations of it. It becomes +the greatest of blessings; it makes +us indeed like unto God.</p> + +<p>How ineffectual beside this spirit of +suffering for love are the cold formularies +with which, as by magic spells, the Stoic +would benumb human pain. Take for +instance the much-quoted passage from +the end of the second book: “Of human +life the duration is a point; the substance +is fleeting; the perception is dull; and the +fabric of the whole body subject to rottenness; +the soul is an idle whirling and fortune +hard to divine, and fame a thing devoid of +judgment. In short, all that there is of the +body is a stream and all that there is of the +soul a dream and a vapour. Life is a warfare +and a sojourning in a strange country, and +after-fame is oblivion. What then is that +which can conduct a man? One thing, +and only one, philosophy.” But he himself +found, as many have found, that sorrow is +not banished nor the riddle of life solved +by philosophy.</p> + +<p>Thus we see the spirit of these two teachers +of men. Further comparison would but +illustrate more clearly that the Christian +book, because it is in a sense divine, is +intensely human, adequate to fulfil all that +is best in man; while the pagan book, +because it is merely human, does not satisfy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>the human soul, which always seeks for +something better than itself. The one is +centred in God and draws its inspiration +from the inspired books themselves, concentrating +all its efforts on the reproduction +of Christ in the Christian. The other, +though it bids us to “love man and follow +God,” means something quite different by +this love of man and this following of whatever +its author understood by “God.” +For it is essentially centred in man, in self; +and has no inspiration but the gropings of +the unaided intellect. Nor can it propose +to us any higher model for our imitation +than the blind subjection to law which +prevails in the inanimate and organic +universe; the stones, a fig-tree, or the brutes. +It is true that in the spirit of the Meditations +there is something akin to the sayings +of à Kempis; but the Christian time and +again feels in the pagan book the sense of +void, the vain strivings after ideals—ideals +fully realised and expressed by the lowly +brother of the Common Life. The humblest +Christian has as his birthright truths which +were the fruit of years of training and much +struggle in the noble pagan soul; and he +has more.</p> + + +<p class="p2 center big2">THE END</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78320 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78320-h/images/cover.jpg b/78320-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..abfd548 --- /dev/null +++ b/78320-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78320-h/images/frontis.jpg b/78320-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8da44ef --- /dev/null +++ b/78320-h/images/frontis.jpg |
