Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century
the theatres, at the circuses, at games of a thousand kinds, or in noisy
groups at the corners of the streets and in the market-places.
It is become a state necessity to provide amusements for the populace in
order to be safe against their violence. The theatres, the baths, with
their ample provisions for passing away time in some indolent amusement
or active game, are always open and always crowded. Public or funeral
games are also in progress without intermission in different parts of
the capital. Those instituted in honor of the gods, and which make a
part of the very religion of the people are seldom suspended for even a
day. At one temple or another, in this grove or that, within or without
the walls, are these lovers of pleasure entertained by shows,
processions, music, and sacrifices. And as if these were not enough, or
when they perchance fail for a moment, and the sovereign people are
listless and dull, the Flavian is thrown open by the imperial command,
the Vivaria vomit forth their maddened and howling tenants either to
destroy each other, or dye the dust of the arena with the blood of
gladiators, criminals, or captives. These are the great days of the
Roman people; these their favorite pleasures. The cry through the
streets in the morning of even women and boys, 'Fifty captives to-day
for the lions in the Flavian,' together with the more solemn
announcement of the same by the public heralds, and by painted bills at
the corners of the streets, and on the public baths, is sure to throw
the city into a fever of excitement, and rivet by a new bond the
affections of this blood-thirsty people to their indulgent Emperor.
Hardly has the floor of the amphitheatre been renewed since the
cessation of the triumphal games of Aurelian, before it is again to be
soaked with blood in honor of Apollo, whose magnificent temple is within
a few days to be dedicated.
Never before I believe was there a city whose inhabitants so many and so
powerful causes conspired to corrupt and morally destroy. Were I to give
you a picture of the vices of Rome, it would be too dark and foul a one
for your eye to read, but not darker nor fouler than you will suppose it
must necessarily be to agree with what I have already said. Where there
is so little industry and so much pleasure, the vices will flourish and
shoot up to their most gigantic growth. Not in the days of Nero were
they more luxuriant than now. Aurelian, in the first year of his reign,
laid upon them a severe but useful restraint, and they were checked for
a time. But since he has himself departed from the simplicity and rigor
of that early day, and actually or virtually repealed the laws which
then were promulgated for the reformation of the city in its manners,
the people have also relapsed, and the ancient excesses are renewed.
This certainly is not a people who, in its whole mass, will be eager to
receive the truths of a religion like this of Christianity. It will be
repulsive to them. You are right in believing that among the greater
part it will find no favor. But all are not such as I have described.
There are others different in all respects, who stand waiting the
appearance of some principles of philosophy or religion which shall be
powerful enough to redeem their country from idolatry and moral death as
well as raise themselves from darkness to light. Some of this sort are
to be found among the nobles and senators themselves,--a few among the
very dregs of the people, but most among those who, securing for
themselves competence and independence by their own labor in some of the
useful arts, and growing thoughtful and intelligent with their labor,
understand in some degree, which others do not, what life is for and
what they are for, and hail with joy truths which commend themselves to
both their reason and their affections. It is out of these, the very
best blood of Rome, that our Christians are made. They are, in
intelligence and virtue, the very bone and muscle of the capital, and of
our two millions constitute no mean proportion,--large enough to rule
and control the whole, should they ever choose to put forth their power.
It is among these that the Christian preachers aim to spread their
doctrines, and when they shall all, or in their greater part, be
converted, as, judging of the future by the past and present, will
happen in no long time, Rome will be safe and the empire safe. For it
needs, I am persuaded, for Rome to be as pure as she is great, to be
eternal in her dominion, and then the civilizer and saviour of the whole
world. O, glorious age!--not remote--when truth shall wield the sceptre
in Caesar's seat, and subject nations of the earth no longer come up to
Rome to behold and copy her vices, but to hear the law and be imbued
with the doctrine of Christ, so bearing back to the remotest province
precious seed, there to be planted, and spring up and bear fruit,
filling the earth with beauty and fragrance.
* * * * *
These things, Fausta, in answer to the questions at the close of your
letter, which betray just such an interest in the subject which
engrosses me, as it gives me pleasure to witness.
I have before mentioned the completion of Aurelian's Temple of the Sun
and the proposed dedication. This august ceremony is appointed for
tomorrow, and this evening we are bidden to the gardens of Sallust,
where is to be all the rank and beauty of Rome. O that thou, Fausta,
couldst be there!
* * * * *
I have been, I have seen, I have supped, I have returned; and again
seated at my table beneath the protecting arm of my chosen divinity, I
take my pen, and, by a few magic flourishes and marks, cause you, a
thousand leagues away, to see and hear what I have seen and heard.
Accompanied by Portia and Julia, I was within the palace of the Emperor
early enough to enjoy the company of Aurelian and Livia before the rest
of the world was there. We were carried to the more private apartments
of the Empress, where it is her custom to receive those whose friendship
she values most highly. They are in that part of the palace which has
undergone no alterations since it was the residence of the great
historian, but shines in all the lustre of a taste and an art that
adorned a more accomplished age than our own. Especially, it seems to
me, in the graceful disposition of the interiors of their palaces, and
the combined richness and appropriateness of the art lavished upon
them, did the genius of the days of Hadrian and Vespasian surpass the
present. Not that I defend all that that genius adopted and
immortalized. It was not seldom licentious and gross in its conceptions,
however unrivalled in the art and science by which they were made to
glow upon the walls, or actually speak and move in marble or brass. In
the favorite apartment of Livia, into which we were now admitted,
perfect in its forms and proportions, the walls and ceilings are covered
with the story of Leda, wrought with an effect of drawing and color, of
which the present times afford no example. The well-known Greek,
Polymnestes, was the artist. And this room in all its embellishments is
chaste and cold compared with others, whose subjects were furnished to
the painter by the profligate master himself.
The room of Leda, as it is termed, is--but how beautiful it is I cannot
tell. Words paint poorly to the eye. Believe it not less beautiful, nor
less exquisitely adorned with all that woman loves most, hangings,
carpets and couches, than any in the palace of Gracchus or Zenobia. It
was here we found Aurelian and Livia, and his niece Aurelia. The
Emperor, habited in silken robes richly wrought with gold, the
inseparable sword at his side, from which, at the expense of whatever
incongruity, he never parts--advanced to the door to receive us, saying,
'I am happy that the mildness of this autumn day permits this pleasure,
to see the mother of the Pisos beneath my roof. It is rare nowadays that
Rome sees her abroad.'
'Save to the palace of Aurelian,' replied my mother, I now, as is well
known, never move beyond the precincts of my own dwelling. Since the
captivity and death of your former companion in arms, my great husband,
Cneius Piso, the widow's hearth has been my hall of state, these widow's
weeds my only robes. But it must be more than private grief, and more
than the storms of autumn or of winter, that would keep me back when it
is Aurelian who bids to the feast.'
'We owe you many thanks,' replied the Emperor. 'Would that the loyalty
of the parents were inherited by the children;' casting towards me, as
he saluted me at the same time, a look which seemed to say that he was
partly serious, if partly in jest. After mutual inquiries and
salutations, we were soon seated upon couches beneath a blaze of light
which, from the centre of the apartment, darted its brightness, as it
had been the sun itself, to every part of the room.
'It is no light sorrow to a mother's heart,' said Portia, 'to know that
her two sons, and her only sons, are, one the open enemy of his country,
the other--what shall I term you, Lucius?--an innovator upon her ancient
institutions; and while he believes and calls himself--sincerely, I
doubt not--the friend of his country, is in truth, as every good Roman
would say--not an enemy, my son, I cannot use that word, but as it
were--an unconscious injurer. Would that the conqueror of the world had
power to conquer this boy's will!'
'Aurelian, my mother,' I replied, 'did he possess the power, would
hesitate to use it in such a cause. But it is easy to see that it would
demand infinitely more power to change one honest mind than to subdue
even the world by the sword.'
Aurelian for a brief moment looked as if he had received a personal
affront.
'How say you,' said he, 'demands it more power to change one mind than
conquer a world? Methinks it might be done with something less. My
soldiers often maintain with violence a certain opinion; but I find it
not difficult to cause them to let it go, and take mine in its place.
The arguments I use never fail.'
'That may be,' I replied, 'in matters of little moment. Even in these
however, is it not plain, Aurelian, that you cause them not to let go
their opinion, but merely to suppress it, or affect to change it? Your
power may compel them either to silence, or to an assertion of the very
contrary of what they but just before had declared as their belief, but
it cannot alter their minds. That is to be done by reason only, not by
force.'
'By reason first,' answered the emperor; 'but if that fail, then by
force. The ignorant, and the presumptuous, and the mischievous, must be
dealt with as we deal with children. If we argue with them, it is a
favor. It is our right, as it is better, to command and compel.'
'Only establish it that such and such are ignorant, and erroneous, and
presumptuous, and I allow that it would be right to silence them. But
that is the very difficulty in the case. How are we to know that they,
who think differently from ourselves, are ignorant or erroneous? Surely
the fact of the difference is not satisfactory proof.'
'They,' rejoined Aurelian, 'who depart from a certain standard in art
are said to err. The thing in this case is of no consequence to any,
therefore no punishment ensues. So there is a standard of religion in
the State, and they who depart from it may be said to err. But, as
religion is essential to the State, they who err should be brought back,
by whatever application of force, and compelled to conform to the
standard.'
'In what sense,' said Portia, 'can common and ignorant people be
regarded as fit judges of what constitutes, or does not constitute, a