nipted. Under Augustus — when the love of war had become a less salient feature of the Koman char- acter— the military and naval establishments became permanent; and, in the time of the Antonines, when peace was the prevailing condition of the Koman world, the standing land force of the empire con- sisted of about three hundred and ninety -five thou- sand men.'
A similar order of facts has been repeated in Eu- rope since the fall of the Western Empire. Erom the fifth to the fifteeth century the military spirit was relatively much more dominant than it has since been; and yet, during the former period, standing armies were not, properly speaking, an institution of European society. That vast system of permanent military organizations which we now see in Europe has grown up within the last three or four centuries; and, what is especially noteworthy, it has grown up beside the still greater industrial and civil interests which characterize our modern society, and which, by virtue of this division of social functions, have been left to work with less interrupted energy. These interests of peace — in other words, these inter- ests orf the higher as opposed to the lower powers of man — are gradually acquiring a stronger hold upon the spirit of Europe; and the outlook for the future clearly indicates an ultimate and great diminution of those immense military bodies which occupy a ra- ' See Gibbon's Borne, ch. i.
272 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [baker.
tional but transitory place in the career of human de- velopment.
Roman society had traveled a long way in reach- ing a condition characterized by standing armies and navies, and in which, consequently, the great mass of the people were relegated to the pursuits of peace. Eut, when it had gone thus far, it could not take the next forward step — it could not stiU. further re- lease itself from the military spirit; and this, in the main, for two prominent reasons: it was too corrupt and too ignorant to preserve voluntary order; and it stood in presence of a formidable outlying force of barbarism.
European society has reached the corresponding stage; but, unlike the Eoman, it gives sign of pass- ing through it. Though old, this society is fuU of progressive forces. It feels the impulse of growing science and expanding culture. Its public opinion is becoming more enlightened and more vigorous. Its public life is being more and more influenced by ra- tional motives. It is acquiring the faculty for vol- untary order; it is threatened by no great external force; the fears and jealousies which exist between its independent states, and which are the chief mo- tives for heavy armed preparation, must gradually succumb to a growing culture; and the promise, therefore, is that its enormous standing armies — themselves an indication of a half-vanquished mili- tary spirit — will finally shrink to very greatly re- SOTE.] OF THE ROMANS. 273 duced proportions; perhaps to the proportions of police establishments.
2. In respect to intercommunication, the ancient world may be regarded as having reached its maxi- mum during the period which extended from the beginning of the reign of Augustus to the close of the reign of Marcus Antoninus. The sphere of in- tercommunication which had been opened up by the Greeks, and which culminated in the empire of Alexander and his successors, was considerably less in extent, and very much less complete in its appoint- ments. And, when we ascend to stiU earlier periods, and consider the character of intercommunication that centered in Assyria, Babylonia, Phoenicia, Egypt, we find in each case that it was sensibly less expan- sive and important than that which was established by the Greeks. Thus, in the course of that great procession of ancient nations and civilizations which was led by the Egyptians and closed by the Eo- mans, we detect a progressive development of inter- communication among mankind, attaining its highest result in the last.
But — standing as it did in advance of all other ancient attainments of the sort — how does Roman intercommunication compare with that of modem times? Two parallels will go a great way towards supplying an answer. Uoman navigation, with its small nautical attainments, was mostly limited to one inland sea; modern navigation, with its greatly en- 274 GKANDEUE AND DECADENCE [baker.
larged science, art, and power, extends to all tlie oceans of the globe. Under the sway of Koman ap- pliances, the Mediterranean states were brought into a circle of xmitnal relations; under the sway of mod- em appliances, all the nations of the earth have been placed in connection.
And, if we descend to intercommunication in par- ticular states, we shall readily see that the famous stone roads of Eome, viewed as a means of transit and circulation in a great empire, are incomparably excelled by the present railway systems of Europe and the United States — especially by the latter, which, although still in a very immature stage of develop- ment, has already attained proportions so enormous as to greatly surpass any other system of intercom- munication in a single nation which has heretofore had place in the world.
•And all this is to say nothing of those mar- velous discoveries and inventions of our most recent times — the Electric Telegraph- and the Submarine Cable, by means of whose subtle force — the prac- tical uses of which were not so much as imagined by the ancients — human thought is transmitted with the celerity of lightning across continents and oceans.
In all that regards intercommunication respecting the material, business, and social interests of men, there is something vastly more gigantic in the reach and movement of the modern spirit; whilst, in aU that regards intercommimication respecting their NOTB.] OF THE ROMANS. 275 higher intellectual interests, the contrast between an- cient and modern times is equally striking.
Quetelet remarks that " That which above all char- acterizes our modern times is the substitution of asso- ciations in place of individuals, whenever the latter, in their narrow circle, have exhausted their means of action." He adds that "examples of this are numer- ous in all that belongs to the sphere of intelligence, and especially so in that which pertains to the study of our globe.'" And he then refers to the French Academy of Sciences, and to the Koyal Societies of London and Berlin, as illustrations of modern asso- ciated intelligence, working with the aid of many hands, many minds, and singleness of purpose, in all parts of the earth. Through such associations a sys- tem of intellectual circulation is established, by which the mental results of the race are speedily translated to and from every country, and by which the intel- lect of the world is rapidly becoming one immense organism. The table of excha/nges of any one of the hundreds of institutions for the promotion of knowl- edge is exceedingly suggestive. One from the Smith- sonian Institution, now before me, is a study.' The annual contribution of intelligence comes to the in- stitution at Washington from all parts of the globe. Every country of Europe is liberally represented, with Germany at the head, which alone sends the contri- butions of five hundred and seventy-three institu- ' Sysieme Sociale, Par's, 1848, p. 229. ' Smithsonian Report, 18V1, p. 19.
276 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [sAKBai.
tions. South America is represented by thirty-three; British America by twenty-seven; Asia by thirty-six; Turkey by eleven; Africa by eighteen; Australia by twenty-six; ]Srew Zealand by eleven; the West Indies by eleven; Mexico by eight; Central Ainerica by one; Polynesia by one; and even from the snows of Iceland come the contributions of two institutions to take their place along with those from Melbourne, Calcutta, and the Cape of Good Hope. Thus, the modern world may be regarded as dotted over with nuclei of intelligence, the number of which is con- stantly increasing, and all of which maintain a grow- ing sympathy and communication with each other — somewhat like the ganglia of a vast nervous system which is developing into a completer individuality.
All the ancient representatives of this aspect of modern civilization were very decidedly inferior. The best ones are seen in the schools of Greece, in the Museum of Alexandria, and in that informal college of poets and literary men which flourished at Home under the patronage of Augustus and the favor of Maecenas. But the spheres of associated intelligence which centered in Athens, Alexandria, and Rome — great as they were for ancient times- must be regarded as very limited in extent, and in- choate in character, when compared with those which radiate from London, Paris, and Berlin — especially when we keep in view that mental network of which I have spoken, and through "which all coun- NOTE.] OP THE ROMANS. 277 tries are brought into relation with these, as yet, principal intellectual centers of the modern world.
In studying the phenomena of history, we can never fully master their meaning by looking directly at them. It is only when put in comparison with the similar phenomena which have preceded and fol- lowed, that their just place and value become ap- parent. Viewed in this way, it is seen on the one hand that the age of Augustus marks the opening of a period of about two centuries, during which the civilization of the ancient world, dominated by Home, made its nearest approach to the cosmopoli- tan character; whilst it is equally seen on the other hand that this character is very much more com- pletely realized by the civilization of modem times.
278 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [MONTESQniEu.
CHAPTEE XIV.
TIBEEIUS.
As we see a river slowly and silently undermin- ing the dikes which confine it, until at length it bursts through them in a moment and floods the country which they have protected — so the sovereign power, which had acted insensibly under Augustus, overflowed with violence under Tiberius.
There was a la/w of Majesty — for the punishment of offences against the Eoman people. Tiberius seized upon this law, and applied it, not to the class of cases for which it had been made, but to all those in which it might be used as an instrument of his hate or his suspicions. It was not actions only that were brought within the scope of this law, but words, signs, and even thoughts; for the things that i.re said in those outpourings of tTie heart which take place between two friends can only be regard- ed as thoughts. There was consequently no longer any freedom at entertainments, confidence among relations, or fidelity among slaves. The dissimular tion and gloom of the prince communicated them- CHAP. xiT.] OF THE ROMANS. 279 selves everywhere. Friendsliip was looked upon as a stumbling-block; frankness passed for imprudence; and virtue was regarded as an affectation wbich might recall the happiness of other times.'
There is no tyranny more cruel than that which is perpetrated under color of the laws and in the name of justice — ^when, so to speak, one is drawn down and drowned by means of the very plank which should have borne him up and saved his life.
' [The Rtjlexions sur les divers genies du pmple remain, although Tery inferior to the work of Montesquieu, are not, however, without interest. Wo have had occasion to appreciate these Reflections in some citations which we have already made. We will here add a picture of the tyranny of Tiberius, persuaded that our readers will excuse us for this further recurrence to the same writer.
" Till now," says Saint-Evremond, " we have looked upon crimes which were inspired by the jealousy of a false polity; at present we witness open cruelty and avowed tyranny. Not content with abandoning good maxims, the most salutary laws were abolished; and, in their stead, an infinity of new ones were made, which looked apparently to the safety of the emperor, but, in reality, to the ruin of the virtuous men who remained in Kome. Every offence amounted to the crime of treason. Heretofore real conspiracies were punished; now men were punished for an innocent word maliciously interpreted. Complaints intrusted to the unhappy for the purpose of consoling them in their misery; tears — those natural ex- pressions of grief; sighs — which escape the heart despite itself; simple looks — became destructive. Unaffected simplicity of speech evinced wicked designs; the discretion of silence concealed bad intentions. Joy was regarded as indicating a hope which looked to the death of the prince; sadness as implying chagrin at his prosperity, or weariness rff his life. If, in the midst of these dangers, the peril in which men lived led them to show some signs of fear, this was taken as evidence of an alarmed conscience, which, betraying itself,. discovered what they were about to do, or what they had already done. If a man had the reputa- tion of possessing courage or firmness of character, he was feared as a daring person, capable of undertaking anything. To speak, to be silent, to rejoice, to be afflicted, to fear or to hope — all was criminal, and all merited the last punishment." (Ch. xvii.)]
280 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [MONTESQniEU.
And, as it has never happened that a tyrant has lacked instruments for the execution of his tyranny, Tiberius never failed to find judges who were ready to condemn all whom he might suspect. During the time of the republic the senate did not as a body adjudicate the affairs of individuals, but, upon information through a delegation of the people, it took cognizance of crimes which were imputed to the alhes. Tiberius in like manner referred to this body the adjudication of all that he called the crime of treason against himself. The senate fell iato a state of degradation which cannot be expressed. Senators led the advance in the downward march of servitude. Under the patronage of Sejanus the most illustrious among them carried on the trade of in- former."
It appears to me that I see many causes for that spirit of servility which now reigned in the senate.
' Probably no better illustration can be given of the debasement of the senatorial character during the time of Tiberius than that which is supplied by the conduct of several senators in connection with the con- spiracy against Titius Sabinus. With a view of becoming witnesses to the words of the latter, and acting in "concert with a confederate, these senators secreted themselves in an ignoble manner, and thus awaited the arrival of their victim and his pretended friend. As Tacitus nar- rates the incident: "Into the space between the roof and the ceiling, a concealment as vile as the treachery was execrable, three senators stowed themselves, and applied their ears to the chasms and crannies...The accusation was forthwith dispatched; and in a written me- morial to Tiberius, these senators opened the order of the fraud, and became narrators of their own infamy." (Tacitus, Annoilei, Oxford Trans. Revised, New York, 1869, Book IV, 68, 69.) Senator, conspira- tor, eavesdropper, and informer, are certainly a strange medley to find united in the same person. — Translaiok.
CHAP. XIV.] OF THE ROMANS. 281 After Csesar had vanquished the party of the repub- lic, both the friends and the enemies which he had in the senate concurred equally in removing all the limitations which the laws interposed against his power, and in conferring excessive honors upon him. The former sought to please him, the latter to ren- der him odious. Dion tells us that some went so far as to propose that he should be permitted to have access to all women at his pleasure. The re- sult of this obsequiousness was that Csesar had no suspicion of the senate, and that he came to be assas- sinated in its presence; and a further result was, that in the succeeding reigns there was no excess of flattery which was without precedent, and which might revolt the minds of men.
Before Eome came to be governed by a single ruler, the wealth of the principal Eomans was im- mense— whatever may have been the means which they had employed for its acquisition. Under the emperors, this wealth was nearly all taken away. Senators no longer retained those great clients by whom they had formerly been loaded with contribu- tions.' In the provinces, little could be taken except ' The relation of patronage on the part of the Roman patricians ex- tended not alone to individuals, but even to cities and to countries. " In after times, even cities and whole nations were under the protection of illustrious Roman families; as the Sicilians under the patronage of the Marcelli; Cyprus and Cappadocia under that of Cato; the AUobroges un- der the patronage of the Fabii; the Bononienses, of the Antonii; Lacedje- mon, of the Claudii. Thus the people of Puteoli chose Cassius and the Bruti for their patrons; Capua chose Cicero. This, however, seems to 282 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [montesotieu, for Cffisar, especially after the imperial procurators came to be established therein — a class of officers who were nearly the same as our present intendants. Meanwhile, although the sources of wealth were cut off, the expenses of living continued. The course of life was established, and it could no longer be sup- ported except through the favor of the emperor.
Augustus had taken from the people the power of making laws, and the right of judging public crimes; but he had left to them, or at least had seemed to leave to them, the right of electing the magistrates. But Tiberius, who feared such numerous assemblies of the people, took from them this privilege of elec- tion also, and turned it over to the senate — that is to say, to himself.* It is all but incredible to what an extent this de- cay of the power of the people debased the spirit of the great men of the state. "Whilst the people had the disposal of the public dignities, the magistrates who canvassed for them descended, it is true, to many base practices; but such practices were asso- ciated with a certain magnificence which served to have taken place also at an early period." (Adam's Rom. Ant., Phila., 1872, pp. 20, 21.)
Thug we can all the more readily see that the " groat clients " of whom Montesquieu speaks might well be a source of prodigious wealth to the Roman aristocracy. Nor can we fail to recognize the striking im- perfection of a system of government and a state of society in which not only individuals, but entire nations, were under the necessity of placating the governing power by interesting the cupidity of the few great families by which it was mostly exercised. — Translator.
* Tacitus, Annates, lib. i, ch. xv; Dion, lib. liv.
CHAP. XIV.] OF THE ROMANS. 283 conceal them — whether by the way of entertaining the people with plays and banquets, or by the distri- bution of money or grain. Although the motive may have been low, yet there was something noble in the means; for it is always becoming in a great man to obtain the favor of the people by liberalities.' But when the people no longer had anything to give, and when the emperor, in the name of the senate, disposed of all public employments, office was sought and obtained by shameful instrumentalities. Flattery, infamy, crime itself, became the arts which were nec- essary for its attainment.
It does not appear, however, that Tiberius desired to debase the senate. There was nothing of which he complained so much as of the tendency of this body towards servility. His life is full of expres- sions of disgust on the subject. But, like most other men, he desired contradictory things. His general policy was not in harmony with his particular pas- sions.. He desired a free senate, capable of making his government respectable; but he wanted at the same time a senate wHch was ready at every mo- ment to respond to his fears, his jealousies, his hates. In short, the statesman constantly succumbed to the man.
' Montesquieu ia here scarcely on a level with himself. It is " be- coming in a great man " to obtain — as he certainly deserves — the favor of the people by his sympathy with their wants and his fidelity to their rights, and not by the vulgar appliance of a species of " liberality " which ceases to be such from its motive, and of which the greatest demagogue is apt to be the greatest master. — Teanslator.
284 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [MomESQurEr.
We have seen that the people had formerly ob- tained from the patricians the concession of magis- trates of their own body, who defended them against the insults and the injustice which might be offered them. In order that these magistrates might be placed in a condition to exercise their power, they were declared to be sacred and inviolable; and it was provided that whoever should maltreat a tribune, whether by act or word, might be immediately pun- ished with death. E"ow, the emperors — being invest- ed with the powers of the tribunate— obtained also the privileges of that office; and it was upon this ground that so many people were destroyed, that informers were enabled to carry on their trade at their pleasure, and that the accusation of treason — the crime, as Phny says, of those against whom no crime could be imputed — was extended to whatever was desired.'
I believe, however, that some of these causes of " The remark of Pliny the Younger, here referred to, occurs in his Panegyric on Trajan, sec. 42: Loeupletabant etfiscum d cemrmm non tarn Vocomce et Julim leges, quam majestatas singulare et unicum crimen eoi-um qui crimine vacarent — " The privy purse of the emperor and the public treasury were not so much enriched by the Voconian and Julian laws as by the charge of treason— the sole crime of those who were without crime."
Nothing can give a darker idea of that species of tyranny which, while affecting to observe the law, punishes for offences unknown to the law, than the fate which befell the adherents of Sejanus, long the chief minister of Tiberius. Some time after the fall of this favorite, the em- peror, according to Tacitus, "ordered aU who were in prison under accu- sation of attachment to Sejanus to be put to death." Then follows the sententious and terrible description of the scene of slaughter: "There lay the countless mass of slain— of every sex and age— the illustrious CHAP, xir.] OF THE ROMANS. 285 accusation were not as ridiculous as tliey appear to us at tlie present day. I cannot think that Tiberius would have had a man accused for having sold a statue of the emperor along with his house; that Domitian would have had a woman condemned to death for having undressed herseK before his image, and a citizen because he had a representation of the earth painted upon the walls of his chamber — if these acts had only awakened in the minds of the Romans the same ideas which they present to us. I believe that the explanation of such proceedings is in part due to the fact that, Home having changed her form of government, things which appear to us to have been of no consequence whatever might then have had some significance; and I judge of these instances in the- light of what we now see in the case of a nation which cannot be suspected of tyranny, but which prohibits the act of drinking to the health of a certain person.'
I may pass nothing unnoticed which will help to and the mean; some dispersed, others collected in heaps; nor was it permitted to their friends or kindred to be present, or to shed a tear over them, or any longer even to go and see them; but guards were placed around, who marked signs of sorrow in each, and attended the putrid bodies till they were dragged to the Tiber, where, floating in the stream, or driven upon the banks, none dared to bum them, none to touch them." (Tacitus, Annals, Oxford Trans. Revised, N. Y., 1869, Book VI, 19.)— Tkanslator.
' I suppose reference is here made to the English nation, and to the unfortunate son of James II, commonly known as the Pretender, who was a contemporary of Montesquieu. (Compare Gibbon's Hist. Deal, and Fall, ch. xxii, note 68.) — Translator.
286 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [montesquibu.
make known the genius of the Koman people. They were so completely accustomed to ohey, and to place aU their happiness in the deference which they felt for their masters, that, after the death of Germanicus, they gave way to expressions of grief, regret, and despair, which are no longer seen among us." It is necessary to read the accounts of the public desola- tion which the historians have left" — ^it was so great, so long continued, and so immoderate; and this exhibi- tion of feeling was no play, for the entire body of the people never indulges in affectation, flattery, or dissimulation. The Koman people — who took no further part in the government, who were composed almost wholly of freedmen or of persons without in- dustry, living at the expense of the public treasury — had a deep sense of their powerless condition. They grieved as women and children who are made deso- late by the feeling of their own weakness. Their estate was ill; they had placed their fears and their hopes in the person of Germanicus; and, that object being taken from them, they were overwhelmed with despair.
There is no class of people who have so great a dread of misfortunes as those who should be reas- sured by the wretchedness of their condition, and who ought to say with Andromacha — would to God that I could fear! There are at the present day ^ See my Note at the end of this chapter. — Translator. ' See Tacitus.
CHAP. XIV.] OF THE ROMANS. 287 fifty thousand men at Naples who live upon nothing but herbs, and who have for their entire store of wealth a half garment of linen. These people — the most unhappy of the earth — are seized with an alarm- ing faintness at the sight of the least smoke from Vesuvius. They have the foUy to fear that they will become unhappy!
288 6KANDEUR AND DECADENCE [bakee.
NOTE BY THE TEANSLATOE.
The interesting idea which Montesquieu presents in the foregoing chapter, by the suggestion that the emotional excitation of the Eomans on the occasion of the death of Germanicus, is without parallel in modern societies, will admit of some further reflec- tions.
Other causes not interfering, it is doubtless true that the more dependent men are in their condition, and the more like children they are in their intelli- gence, the more extravagantly will their emotional nature display itself; and it seems probable that a general distinction might be traced in this respect between the peoples of ancient and those of modem times. It would appear that some such distinction ought to be one of the results of the greater men- tal development, and consequently greater sense of self-resource, which we find diffused among the masses of men in our present societies.
Still, the question as to such a difference is a high- ly complicated one — affected by considerations of race, local institutions, customs, the particular degree of NOTE.] OF THE ROMANS. 289