national culture, and the special hardening influence which a low social state tends to exert upon some of the emotions. The typical American Indian, for instance, combined a puerile intelligence with, in some respects, the emotional restraint of a Grecian stoic — the one having attained his self-control through the repressing discipliae of savage life, the other through sublime speculations upon the grandeur of the soul and the superiority of supersensuous to sen- suous things; and it is certain that the causes which thus influenced the American savage were consider- ably more active in ancient than they have been in modern times.
On the whole, however, it is very likely that the superior mental development which has place in our modern societies has imparted a somewhat more chast- ened tone to those great outbursts of popular feel- ing— scattered here and there through the history of all nations — commonly taking their rise in the attach- ment of the people to some one person whom they regard as children regard a father — and some of which, as depicted by historians, are exceedingly touching.
^Nevertheless — in apparent deviation from the idea of Montesquieu — ^particular instances of popular emo- tional excitement in modern times may be pointed out, which appear to be completely on a level with the one cited by him in connection with the death of Germanicus. Such, for example, was the exhibition 13 290 GRANDEUK AND DECADENCE [bakek.
of feeling which took place among his own country- men in connection with an incident which occurred during his lifetime, and only a few years after the publication of his Considerations. I allude to the agitation and distress of the French people upon be- ing informed of the dangerous illness of Louis XY, at Metz, in August, 174:5. I translate from Voltaire: "This event carried fear and desolation from city to city. The people ran in from all the environs of Metz. The roads were filled with men of every con- dition and of all ages, who, by their conflicting re- ports, increased their common inquietude. The dan- ger of the king became known at Paris in the night- time. The people rose and ran forth tumultuously, without knowing whither they went. The churches were opened in the depth of the night. Men took no further thought of the time for sleeping, or for waking, or for repasts. Paris was beside itself. All the houses of men in place were besieged by contin- ual crowds. Men assembled at all the comers of the streets. The people exclaimed: ' If he dies, it will be for having marched to our assistance.' Everybody was approached, and people interrogated each other in the churches without being acquainted. There were many churches in which the priests, who pronounced the prayer for the health of the king, inter- rupted the chant with their tears; and the people responded to them with their cries. The courier who on the 19th brought to Paris the news of the NOTE.] OF THE ROMANS. 291 king's convalescence was embraced and almost suffo- cated by tbe people. They kissed bis borse; tbey led bim in triumph; and all the streets rang with the cry of joy: ' The king has recovered.' "When the monarch was told of these unheard-of transports of joy, which bad succeeded those of desolation, be was melted to tears; and, rousing himself by a move- ment of sensibility which restored his composure, 'Ah!' said be, 'how sweet it is to be thus loved! and what have I done to merit it? ' Such are the French people — emotional to enthusiasm, and capable of every excess in their affections as in their discon- tents." ' It must be confessed that the general spirit of this scene — although happening in the eighteenth century — vividly recalls the lamentation of the Eomans for Germanicus; whilst in some of the details — such as hurrying in the night-time to the churches on the one occasion and to the temples on the other' — there is complete identity. The key to the phenomenon is the same in both cases: a great family of children is afflicted on account of the real or apprehended loss of one to whom it looks as to a father, and without whom it feels that its hope and its stay is gone.
The scene which was witnessed in the United States when the mind of the nation was startled by ' Precis du Slide de Louis XV, ch. 12. ' See Tacitua, Anncds, Book II, ch. 82.
292 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [bamb.
the announcement of the assassination of Lincoln, is a better illustration of the modern spirit. The great, simple-hearted President was, indeed, very dear to the people; but their grief was unmixed with any feeling of their own weakness and dependence: it was less self-regarding, and consequently more self-con- tained.
MONTBSQUiEtr.] OF THE ROMANS. 293 CHAPTEE XV.
THE EMPEEOES FROM CALIGULA TO ANTONINXrS.
Caligula succeeded Tiberius. It was said of him that there was never a better slave nor a worse master. These two characters are closely enough re- lated; for that same disposition of mind which causes a man to be vividly impressed with the unlimited power of him who commands wiU cause him to place no less estimate upon authority when he himself comes to command.
Caligula re-established the comitia,' which Tibe- rius had taken away from the people; and he abol- ished that arbitrary crime of treason which his prede- cessor had established: from which we may judge that the beginning of the reign of bad princes is often lite the end of the reign of good ones; for, influenced by a spirit of contradiction to reverse the action of those who have preceded them, they may do from a perverse disposition what others do from principle. It is to this spirit of contradiction that we are indebted for many good laws as well as bad ones. ' He abolished them afterwards.
294 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [MONiEsaniEn.
What, however, was gained? Caligula had abol- ished the accusations, the charges of treason; but he caused all who displeased him to perish by the mili- tary power. And it was not only some particular senators who were obnoxious to him: he held the sword suspended over the senate itself, and threat- ened to exterminate the entire body.
The amazing tyranny of the Roman emperors was an outgrowth from the general spirit of the Eoman people. As the latter feU suddenly under the power of an arbitrary government, and as there was scarcely any interval between their state of mas- tery and their state of servitude, they were not pre-' pared for the change by an amelioration of manners. The ferocious temper remained. Koman citizens were treated as they themselves had treated their conquered enemies; and they were governed on the same plan. Sylla entering into Eome was no other person than Sylla entering into Athens: he exercised the same rights of war on both occasions. In the case of nations which have insensibly lost their liberties, when laws fail them, they are stiU governed by man- ners.
The constant sight of gladiatorial combats had the effect of rendering the Romans extremely fero- cious." It was remarked that Claudius became more inclined to the shedding of blood upon seeing these spectacles. The example of this emperor, who was ' See my Note at the end of this chapter. — Tkanslatok.
CHAP, xy.] OF THE ROMANS. 295 naturally of a mild disposition, and who nevertheless committed so many cruelties, enables us to see how different was the education of his time from that of ours.'
Accustomed to sport with human nature in the persons of their children and their slaves, the Ro- mans could know but little of that virtue which we call humanity/ Whence comes that ferocity which we observe among the inhabitants of our colonies, except from the constant habit of inflicting chastise- ments upon an unfortunate portion of our race? When cruelty is organized in the institutions of a state, what can we expect from the natural kindness and justice of men?
In reading the history of the Eoman emperors, we are wearied with the vast number of people whom they caused to be put to death in order that they might confiscate their estates. We find nothing simi- lar in our modern histories. This difference, as we have just intimated, ought to be attributed to man- ners which are more gentle, and to a religion which is more restraining; and it may be added that we have not the families of senators to despoil who had ravaged the earth. From the mediocrity of our for- tunes we draw the advantage that they are more se- ' See idem. — Tkanslator.
* See the Roman laws on the power of fathers over their children, and that of masters over their slaves, (a) (a) For some notice of these laws, see my Note at the end of chapter X, and idem at the end of chapter xx. The power extended to life and death in both cases. — Translator.
296 GRANDEtJK AND DECADENCE [MOUTEsatiiEr.
cure, and we set no value upon the apprehension that our estates will be ravished from us."
The people of Eome — those who were called ^Ms did not hate the most wicked of the emperors.
After they had lost their power, and when they ceased to be occupied with war, they became the vilest of aU peoples. They regarded commerce and the arts as proper occupations for slaves only, and the distributions of grain which they received caused them to neglect the cultivation of lands. They were accustomed to plays and spectacles, and, when they no longer had tribunes to listen to, nor magistrates to elect, these vain things became necessaries, and their idleness increased their taste for them. Nero, Caligula, Commodus, Caracalla, were regretted by the people because of the very follies in which they in- dulged; for these emperors loved with fervor that which the people loved; they contributed to their pleasures with all their power, and even with their persons; they lavished upon them the wealth of the empire; and, when this was exhausted, the people looked on without pain whilst all the great families were despoiled. They enjoyed the fruits of the tyr- anny without any alloy of fear, for they found safety in their baseness. It was natural that such emperors should hate good men. They knew that they were ' The duke of Braganza had immense estates in Portugal; when he reTolted, the king of Spain was congratulated upon the rich confiscation which he was about to realize.
CHAP. XT.] OP THE ROMANS. 297 not approved by them." Indignant at the contradic- tion or tlie silence of an austere citizen, and drunk with the applause of the populace, they came to im- agine that their government constituted the public happiness, and that none but evil-minded men could censure it.'
Caligula was a true sophist in his cruelty. As he was descended equally from Anthony and Au- gustus, he said he would punish the consuls if they celebrated the day of rejoicing which had been set apart in memory of the victory of Actium, and that he would punish them if they did not celebrate it; and, Drusilla — to whom he had accorded divine hon- ors— having died, it was a crime to weep, for the reason that she was a goddess, and it was a crime not to weep, for the reason that she was his sister.
* The Greeks had games iu which men contended decently and con- quered gloriously. The Romans had little else but spectacles; and that of the infamous gladiatorial combat was peculiar to them. Roman gravity did not permit a great personage to descend into the arena or mount upon the stage. How, indeed, could a senator think of doing so — he to whom the laws forbade the contracting of any alliance with those who had been tarnished by the disgusts, or even by the plaudits, of the people? Yet, Roman emperors appeared upon the arena and the stage; and this folly, which showed the greatest derangement of heart — a contempt for the comely, the decent, and the fit — is always associated by the historians with a character for tyranny.
' In seeking an explanation for that good understanding which existed between the populace and the worst of the emperors, I think we shall find it, not only in the causes mentioned in the text, but in the fundamental fact that the empire itself was but the permanent triumph of the popular over the patrician faction. This fact was one of the traditions of the people, and hence they regarded the successors of Csesar rather in the light of popular chiefs. — Tkanslatoe.
298 GKiNDEUR AND DECADENCE [montesquieit.
Here we may fitly indulge a reflection upon the course of human affairs. When in the past history of Rome we see so many wars undertaken, so much bloodshed, so many peoples destroyed, so many great actions, so many triumphs, so much policy, wisdom, prudence, constancy, and courage; when we contem- plate that scheme for the conquest of all nations, which was so well conceived, so ably sustained and so successfully executed — in what has it all ended at last, except to satiate the passions of five or six monsters? That senate has only struck down so many kings in order to fall itself into the most degrading slavery at the hands of some of the worst citizens of the state, and — to exterminate itself by its own decrees! Men only build up their power to the end of seeing it completely overthrown! they only labor to increase it in order to see it turned against themselves in more fortunate hands!
Caligula having been killed, the senate assembled with the view of establishing a form of government. While they were yet deliberating, some soldiers en- tered the palace for the purpose of pillaging. In an obscure part of the building they came upon a man trembling from fear. This was Claudius. They saluted him as emperor.
In conferring upon his officers the right to exer- cise judicial powers, Claudius completed the ruin of the ancient orders.' The wars between Marius and ' Augustus had established procurators, but they had no judicial CHAP. XV.] OF THE ROMANS. 299 Sylla had turned principally upon the question as to who possessed this right — ^the senators or the eques- trians." The fancy of an imbecile took it away from the one and the other — strange issue of a dispute which had put the world in combustion!
There is no authority more absolute than that of a prince who succeeds a republic; for he finds him- self in possession of all the powers of a people who had not been capable of imposing limitations upon themselves. Thus, at the present day, we see the kings of Denmark exercising a power which is more arbitrary than any other in Europe.
The people were no less debased than the senate and the equestrians. We have seen that they had been so warlike down to the time of the emperors that the armies which were levied in the city were disciplined immediately and marched directly to the enemy. During the civil wars of Vitellius and Yes- pasian, Rome became a prey to the ambitious men of all parties; and, full of timid citizens, she trem- bled before the first band of soldiers that might ap- proach her walls.
The condition of the emperors was no better, As there was no particular army which had the power; and when they were not obeyed, if was necessary that they should recur to the authority of the governor of the province, or to the praetor. But, under Claudius, these ofiScers had ordinary jurisdiction, as lieutenants of the province; and, in addition to this, they had jurisdiction of fiscal affairs — that which placed the fortunes of all men in their hands.
' See Tacitus, Annales, lib. xii, ch. liv.
300 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [moktesotibu.
right or possessed the boldness to elect them, it was enough that some one should be proclaimed by any army to become disagreeable to the others — who at once gave him the appellation of competitor.
Thus, as the magnitude of the republic was fatal to republican goremment, the magnitude of the em- pire was fatal to the lives of the emperors.'" If they had only had a moderate - sized country to defend, they would have had only one principal army; and this, having once elected an emperor, would have re- spected the work of its own hands.
The soldiers had been attached to the family of Caesar, which was the guarantee of aU the advan- tages which they had received from the revolution. The time came when all the great families of Home had been exterminated by that of Caesar, and when the family of Caesar itself perished in the person of Nero. The civil power, which had been incessantly beaten down, found itself incapable of counterbalancing the military: each army desired to create an emperor.
We will here take a comparative view of differ- ent epochs. When Tiberius began his reign, what support did he not draw from the senate? Learning that the armies of Illyria and Germany had revolted, he acceded to some of their demands, but main- tained that it was the province of the senate to judge of the others; " and the deputies whom he sent to ■" See my Note at the end of chapter xvi. — Translator.
" Ccetera senatui servanda. (Tacitus, Annales, lib. i, eh. xxv.)
CHAP. XT.] OF THE ROMANS. 301 the insurgents were members of that body. Those who had ceased to fear their power might yet re- spect their authority; and, when it was represented to the soldiers that in a Roman army the chUdi'en of the emperor and the deputies of the Roman sen- ate ran the risk of their lives," they repented of their disobedience, and went so far as to inflict pun- ishment upon themselves." But, when the senate came to be completely prostrated, its example touched no one. In vain did Otho harangue his soldiers in order to induce them to speak of the dignity of that body." In vain did Yitellius send a deputation of principal senators to make his peace with Yespasian." Men do not in a moment give back to the orders of a state that respect which they have so long lost. The armies of Vespasian only regarded these depu- ties as the most cowardly slaves of a master whom they had already chastised.
It was an ancient custom of the Romans that he who enjoyed the honors of a triumph should distrib- ute some denarii to each soldier: it was a small af- fair." During the civil wars, these donatives were increased." They had previously consisted of money " See tte harangue of Germanicus. {Ibid., ch. xlii.)
'' Gnudehai ccedibus miles, quasi semet absolveret. (Ibid., ch. xliv.) The extorted privileges were afterwards revoked. (Ibid.)
" Tacitus, History, Book I, ch. Ixxxiv. " Ibid., Book III, ch. Ixxx.
'' See in Livy the sums distributed on the occasions of divers tri- umphs. The spirit of the generals was to put much money into the pub- lic treasury, and to give little of it to the soldiers.
" At a time when the magnitude of the conquests had caused an in- 302 GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [montesquieu.
which had been taken from the enemy; but during these unhappy times the money of citizens was taken for the purpose, the soldiers desiring a share where there was no booty. Formerly, these distribu- tions had only taken place at the conclusion of a war; Nero made them in time of peace. The sol- diers became accustomed to such gifts; and they were enraged against Galba, who had the courage to tell them that he knew how to choose, but not to purchase them.
The reigns of Galba, Otho," and Yitellius were transient. Vespasian was elected, as they had been, by the soldiers. He devoted himself during the whole course of his reign to the re-establishment of the empire, which had been ruled by six tyrants equally cruel, nearly all furious, often imbecile, and — for climax of misfortune — ^prodigal to madness.
Titus, who succeeded Vespasian, was the delight of the Eoman people.
In Domitian we meet a new monster, more cruel, or at least more implacable, than those who had pre- ceded him, for the reason that he was more timid. His favorite freedmen, and, as some say, his wife, seeing that he was as dangerous in his attachments as in his enmities, and that he imposed no limits crease of these liberalities, Paulus Emilius only distributed one hundred denarii to each soldier; but Ctesar gave two thousand; and his example was followed by Anthony and Octavius, by Brutus and Cassius. See Dion and Appian.
" Simcepere duo manipulares impa-ium populi romani Iransfermdum et tramtulermU. (Tacitus, History, lib. i, ch. xxv.)
CHAP. XV.] OF THE ROMANS. 303 either upon his suspicions or his accusations, made way with him. Before striking the fatal blow they looked about for a successor, and chose Nerva, a venerable old man.
Nerva adopted Trajan, the most accomplished prince of whom history had ever spoken. It was a blessing to be bom in his reign, which was the hap- piest and most glorious that the Koman people had experienced. He was a great statesman and a great soldier. He possessed a heart which determiaed him to good ends, and an intellect which disclosed to him the best means for their attainment. He was endowed with a noble, grand, and beautiful soul. He united all the virtues without being extreme in any. He was, in short, a man most admirably adapted to reflect honor upon human nature, and to repre- sent the divine."
Trajan executed the project of Caesar: he con- " Fine as this portraiture is, I prefer the tone of Gibbon in relation to the same great emperor: " Trajan was ambitious of fame; and, as long as mankind shall continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the vice of the most exalted characters. The praises of Alexander, transmitted by a succession of poets and historians, had kindled a dan- gerous emulation in the mind of Trajan. Like him, the Roman emperor undertook an expedition against the nations of the East; but he lamented, with a sigh, that his advanced age scarcely left him any hopes of equal- ing the renown of the son of Philip." (Gibbon's Rome, ch. i.) If the higher sort of greatness is characterized by being superior to the ignorant opinion of the multitude, and for rising above the common objects of a vulgar ambition, then the fame of the two Antonines rests upon a better foundation, and is more worthy of enlightened approval, than that of Csesar and Trajan — a kind of opinion which gains ground in proportion as culture increases among men. — Tbanslatoe.
304 GKANDEUK AND DECADENCE [montesqdieu.
ducted a successful war against tlie Parthians. All others had succumbed in the prosecution of an enter- prise In which danger was constantly present and succor at a distance — an enterprise in which it was absolutely necessary to conquer, and in which there was no assurance that the invader would not perish after having conquered.
The difficulty consisted in the situations of the two empires, and in the different methods of war- fare which were practiced by the two peoples.
Taking the Arminian road — towards the sources of the Tigris and the Euphrates— a mountainous and difficult country was met with, over which supplies could not be transported, so that an army was half ruined before it arrived in Media."" If it penetrated by a more southern route, and passed by the way of Nisibis, it encountered the frightful desert that sep- arated the two empires. If it advanced by a route lying still further south, and proceeded through Meso- potamia, it was compelled to traverse a country which was partly uncultivated and partly submerged; and, the Tigris and the Euphrates flowing from the north to the south, an army could not advance far to the east without receding from these rivers, and neither could it leave them any great distance in its rear without perishing.''
'" The country did not furnish enough of large trees to make machines for besieging purposes. (Plutarch, Zife of Anlhony.)
" Malte-Brun gives an animated description of those inhospitable wastes which separated the Parthians from the Komans: " The desert of CHAP, xy.] OF THE ROMANS. 305 As to their relative methods of making war, tlie force of the Eomans consisted in an infantry which was the firmest, strongest, and best disciplined in the world; whilst, on the other hand, the Parthians had no infantry, but an admirable cavalry. They fought at a distance, and beyond the range of the Koman arms. The javelin could rarely reach them. Their arms consisted of formidable bows and arrows. They rather besieged than attacked an army. It was use- less to pursue them, for with them to fly was to fight. They caused their people to retire as an ene- my approached, and only left garrisons in strong places, which, when captured, it was necessary to de- stroy. They skilfully burnt all the country around an invading army, not even leaving the grass to the enemy. In short, they made war in much the same Mesopotamia, in all its gloomy uniformity, now meets our view. Saline plants cover detached spots at great distances, in the burning sands or the parched selenite. Here the wormwood, like the heath in Europe, takes possession of immense spaces, to the exclusion of every other plant...This desert is a continuation of the great desert of Arabia, giving a speci- men of its horrors beyond the Euphrates. The air, like that of Arabia, is generally pure and dry. In the bare plains of sand it sometimes be- comes burning. The miasmata arising from stagnant waters are diffused in it, and its pestilential qualities are aggravated by exhalations from salt putrescent lakes. It is this element, set in motion by some want of equilibrium in the atmosphere, that has been supposed to create that fatal wind known by the name of the samoom or samiel, which is less dreaded in the middle of Arabia than on its borders, and chiefly in Syria and Mesopotamia. When this dreadful wind arises, the sun seems cov- ered with blood, from the dust which is raised to an immense height in the atmosphere; animals in consternation lay themselves flat on the ground to escape its terrifying force, which suffocates any living being rash enough to expose itself." ( Universal Geography, Phila., 1827, voL i, p. 342.) — Tbanslator.
3Qg GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE [montesqcieu.
manner as that whicL. we still see carried on at the present time in the same country.
Moreover, the legions of Illyria and Germany, which were employed in this war, were not adapted to the service." Accustomed to hearty living in their own country, nearly all the soldiers of these legions perished.
Thus the Parthians achieved that which no other nation had been able to make good — immunity from the Eoman yoke — not, however, as being invincible, but as being inaccessible.
Hadrian abandoned the conquests of Trajan," and limited the empire to the Euphrates; and it is an admirable reflection that the Romans, after so many wars, did not lose that which they voluntarily aban- doned, but that their empire was like that of the sea, which is none the less extended when it retires of itself.