Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto;'
to him, the prototype of that long train of those who were never quite alive, who vainly sought glory in this world, vainly dreaded infamy; who, ever wavering betwixt good and evil, washed their hands; who, like the neutral angels of the threshold, were neither faithful nor rebellious; who are equally despised by pity and justice; who render themselves
And what man other than Pilate was ever placed so typically, in such accordance with the eyes of the poet, between the Son of God and His enemies, between justice and mercy, between right and wrong, between the Emperor and the Jews, and has refused either issue of the dilemma?
"Was it Celestine, Diocletian, or Esau? But they of two things chose the one; and who knows but that they chose the better? A hermitage and a mess of pottage may under many aspects be better worth than the papacy renounced by Celestine, than the empire abdicated by Diocletian, or than the birthright bartered by Esau. But Pilate refused to choose, and his refusal was great—great enough to justify the antonomasia of Dante—and it was cowardly. He refused not only the great gift of free will in a case when a free choice was his absolute duty. When admitted, like the fallen angels, to the great choice between good and evil, he did not cleave for ever to the good, as did St. Michael, or to the evil, as did Lucifer, but he refused a power which for him was the fount of duty and which cost the life of a man and the right of an innocent."
But was Pilate alone guilty of the crime of the crucifixion? Were the Jews wholly blameless? This raises the question: Who were the real crucifiers of the Christ, the Jews or the Romans? That the Jews were the instigators and the Romans the consummators of the crucifixion is evident from the Gospel narratives. The Jews made the complaint, and the Romans ordered and effected the arrest of the prisoner in Gethsemane. Having tried Him before their own tribunal, the Jews then led Jesus away to the Roman governor, and in the Prætorium accused Him and furnished evidence against Him. But the final act of crucifying was a Roman act. It is true that Jewish elements were present in the crucifixion of Jesus. The death draught offered Him on the cross suggests a humane provision of Hebrew law. This drink was usury administered among the Hebrews "so that the delinquent might lose clear consciousness through the ensuing intoxication." Again, the body of Jesus was removed from the cross and buried before it was night. This was in deference to an ancient custom of the Jews to bury criminals before sunset who had first been executed by stoning for the crime of blasphemy and had then been subjected to the indignity of being hung upon a tree, in conformity with a Mosaic ordinance contained in Deut. xxi. 22. But these two incidents exhaust the Jewish features of the crucifixion; and, besides, these elements were merely physical. The spiritual or moral features, involving turpitude and crime, are entirely different considerations from those that are simply historical. The question still arises: Who were the morally guilty parties? Who were the directly responsible agents of the crucifixion, the Jews or the Romans? Upon whom should the greater blame rest, if both were guilty? A passage from St. John seems to indicate that the Jews were the bearers of the greater sin. Replying to a question of Pilate concerning the procurator's power to crucify Him, "Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above; therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin."[122] According to many commentators, Jesus referred to Caiaphas; according to others, He spoke of Judas as the person who had the greater sin. But in any case it is certain that He did not intend to involve the whole Jewish nation in the crime of His arrest and execution. The language of the scriptural context indicates a single person. Pilate, on the one hand, is made the silent instrument in the hands of God for the accomplishment of the designs of Heaven. Caiaphas, on the other hand, is probably referred to as the one having the greater sin, because, being the high priest of the Sanhedrin, he better understood the questions involved in the religious charge of blasphemy, and was, therefore, the greater sinner against the laws of God, in the matter of the injustice then being perpetrated.
Aside from the religious questions involved, and speaking in the light of history and law, our own judgment is that the real crucifiers of the Christ were the Romans, and that Pilate and his countrymen should bear the greater blame. It is true that the Jews were the instigators, the accusers. But Pilate was the judge whose authority was absolute. The Jews were powerless to inflict the death penalty. Pilate had the final disposition of all matters of life and death. In short, he could have prevented the crucifixion of Jesus. He did not do so; and upon him and his countrymen should rest the censure of Heaven and the execration of mankind.
But, admitting that the priests of the Sanhedrin were equally guilty with Pilate and the Romans, does it follow that all Jews of the days of Jesus who were not participants in the crime against him, should suffer for the folly and criminal conduct of a mere fragment of a Sadducean sect? Is it not true that the Jewish people, as a race, were not parties to the condemnation and execution of the Christ? Is it not reasonable to suppose that the masses in Palestine were friendly to the democratic Reformer who was the friend of the poor, the lame, and the blind? Did not the reception of his miracles and his triumphal entry into Jerusalem indicate His popularity with the plain people? Is it not historically true that the great body of the Jewish population in Judea, in Galilee, in Samaria, and in Perea, was unfriendly to the members of the Sanhedrin, and regarded them as political renegades and religious delinquents? Is it not reasonably certain that a large majority of the countrymen of Jesus were his ardent well-wishers and sincerely regretted his untimely end? Is it possible to conceive that these friends and well-wishers were the inheritors of the curse of Heaven because of the crime of Golgotha? If not, is it rational to suppose that their innocent descendants have been the victims of this curse?
The cruel and senseless notion of the implacable wrath of Deity has prevailed in all the ages as an explanation of the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersion and persecution of the Jews. It is worse than nonsense to see in this event anything but the operation of vulgar physical forces of the most ordinary kind. The fall of Jerusalem was a most natural and consequential thing. It was not even an extraordinary historical occurrence, even in Jewish history. Titus did not so completely destroy Jerusalem as did Nebuchadnezzar before him. Razing cities to the ground was a customary Roman act, a form of pastime, a characteristic Roman proceeding in the case of stubborn and rebellious towns. Scipio razed Carthage and drove Carthaginians into the most remote corners of the earth. Was any Roman or Punic god interested in this event? Cæsar destroyed many Gallic cities and scattered Gauls throughout the world. Was any deity concerned about these things?
Roman admiration was at times enkindled, but Roman clemency was never gained by deeds of valor directed against the arms of Rome. Neither Hannibal nor Mithradates, Vercingetorix nor Jugurtha, the grandest of her enemies, received any mercy at her hands. To oppose her will, was to invite destruction; and the sequel was a mere question of "the survival of the fittest." The most turbulent, rebellious and determined of all the imperial dependencies was the province of Judea. The Jews regarded the Romans as idolaters; and, instead of obeying them as masters, despised and defied them as barbarians. When this spirit became manifest and promised to be perpetual, the dignity of the Roman name as well as the safety of the Roman State, demanded the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersion of the Jews. And destruction and dispersion followed as naturally as any profane effect follows any vulgar cause.
The Irish, another splendid race, are being dispersed throughout the earth by the English domination of Ireland. Is anybody so keenly discerning as to see in Irish dispersion a divine or superhuman agency? Is it not, after all, the simple operation of the same brutal, physical forces that destroyed Carthage and Jerusalem, and, in a latter century, dismembered Poland?
But the advocates of the divine wrath theory quote Scriptures and point to prophecy in support of their contention. Then Scriptures must be pitted against Scriptures. The last prayer of the Master on the cross must be made to repeal every earlier Scriptural prophecy or decree. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," is the sublimest utterance in the literature of the world. It is the epitome of every Christian virtue and of all religious truth. This proclamation from the cross repealed the Mosaic law of hereditary sin; placed upon a personal basis responsibility for offenses against God and man; and served notice upon future generations that those who "know not what they do" are entitled to be spared and forgiven. To believe that God ignored the prayer of Christ on the cross; and that the centuries of persecution of the Jews which followed, were but the fulfillment of prophecy and fate, is to assail the Messiahship of Jesus and to question the goodness and mercy of Jehovah. Jesus knew the full meaning of His prayer and was serious unto death. To believe that the Father rejected the petition of the Son is to destroy the equality of the persons of the Trinity by investing one with the authority and power to review, revise, and reject the judgments and petitions of the others. If the Christian doctrine be true that Christ was God "manifest in the flesh"; if the doctrine of the Trinity be true that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, are one and the same, eternal and inseparable, then the prayer of Jesus on the cross was not a petition, but a declaration that the malefactors of the crucifixion, who, in the blindness of ignorance, had helped to kill the Son of Man, would receive at the Last Day the benefits of the amnesty of the Father of mercy and forgiveness.
If the perpetrators of the great injustice of the Sanhedrin and of the Prætorium are to be forgiven because they knew not what they did, is there any justice, human or divine, in persecuting their innocent descendants of all lands and ages? "When Sir Moses Montefiore was taunted by a political opponent with the memory of Calvary and described by him as one who sprang from the murderers who crucified the world's Redeemer, the next morning the Jewish philanthropist, whom Christendom has learned to honor, called upon his assailant and showed him the record of his ancestors which had been kept for two thousand years, and which showed that their home had been in Spain for two hundred years before Jesus of Nazareth was born." This half-humorous anecdote illustrates the utter absurdity and supreme injustice of connecting the modern Jew with ancient tragic history. The elemental forces of reason, logic, courage and sympathy, wrapped up and interwoven in every impulse and fiber of the human mind and heart, will be forever in rebellion against the monstrous doctrine of centuries of shame, exile and persecution visited upon an entire race, because of the sins and crimes of a handful of their progenitors who lived more than a thousand years before.
But, if the visitation of the sins of the fathers upon the sons is to be maintained, and perpetuated as a form of divine, if not of human justice, then, why not, at least, be consistent in the application of the principle? Many philosophers and critics have detected a striking kinship between the teachings of Socrates and those of Jesus. A celebrated historian closes a chapter of the history of Greece with this sentence: "Thus perished the greatest and most original of the Grecian philosophers (Socrates), whose uninspired wisdom made the nearest approach to the divine morality of the Gospel."[123] The indictments against the philosopher of Athens and the Prophet of Nazareth were strikingly similar. Socrates was charged with corrupting Athenian youth; Jesus, with perverting the nation. Socrates was charged with treason against Athens; Jesus, with treason against Rome. Both were charged with blasphemy; the Athenian, with blasphemy of the Olympic gods; the Nazarene, with blaspheming Jehovah. Both sealed with their blood the faith that was in them. If the descendants of the crucifiers of the Christ are to be persecuted, brutalized, and exiled for the sins of the fathers, why not apply the same pitiless law of hereditary punishment to the descendants of the Athenian dicasts who administered hemlock to the greatest sage of antiquity? Why not persecute all the Greeks of the earth, wherever found, because of the injustice of the Areopagus?
Coming back from antiquity and the Greeks to modern times in America, let us express the hope that all forms of race prejudice and persecution will soon cease forever. It is a truth well known of all intelligent men that racial prejudice against the Jew has not completely vanished from the minds and hearts of Gentiles; that political freedom in an enlightened age has not brought with it full religious tolerance and social recognition; that the Jew enjoys the freedom of the letter, but is still under the ban of the spirit. It is not necessary to go to Russia to prove this contention. In 1896, Adolf von Sonnenthal, the greatest of modern actors, who has covered the Austrian stage with glory, celebrated the fortieth anniversary of his entrance into theatrical life. The City Council of Vienna refused to extend him the freedom of the city, because he was a Jew. In 1906, Madame Bernhardt, the most marvelous living woman, while acting in Canada, was insulted by having spoiled eggs thrown upon the stage amidst shouts of "Down with the Jewess!" This outrage called forth a letter of apology, which appeared in public print, from Sir Wilfred Laurier, Prime Minister of the Dominion. In the summer of 1907, the sister of Senator Isidor Rayner, of Maryland, was refused admission to an Atlantic City hotel because she was a Jewess. Be it remembered that these several acts of prejudice and persecution did not happen in the Middle Ages, or under the government of the Romanoffs. Two of them occurred at the beginning of the twentieth century, beneath the flags of two of the freest and most civilized nations of the globe. What have Americans to say of the exclusion of a virtuous, refined, intelligent sister of a great American senator from an American hotel for no other reason than that she was a Jewess; that is, that she was of the same race with the Savior of mankind?
There is certainly no place for religious intolerance and race prejudice beneath our flag. Fake and hypocritical our religion, if while professing faith in Jesus we continue to persecute those for whom He prayed! In vain did Washington, marching in Liberty's vanguard, "lead Freedom's eaglets to their feast"; in vain the proclamation of the Declaration of Independence and the adoption of the Constitution at Philadelphia, a hundred years ago; in vain the bonfires and orations of the nation's natal day, if our boasted liberties are to exist in theory, but not in practice, in fancy, but not in fact!
Let no persecutor of the Jew lay the unction to his soul that he is justified by the tragedy of Golgotha; for he who persecutes in the name of religion is a spiritual barbarian, an intellectual savage. Let this same persecutor not make the mistake of supposing that the Jews are wholly responsible for the persecution that has been heaped upon them. Before he falls into the foolish blunder of such a supposition, let him ponder the testimony of several Gentile experts upon the subject. Let him read "The Scattered Nation," a brilliant lecture on the Jew by the late Zebulon Vance, of North Carolina, in which occurs this sentence: "If the Jew is a bad job, in all honesty we should contemplate him as the handiwork of our own civilization." Let him find Shakespearean confirmation of this statement in "The Merchant of Venice," Act III, Scene i. If the Jew-baiter objects that this is the imagination of a poet, let us then point him to the testimony of a great historian and statesman to prove to him that the Gentile is in great measure responsible for the causes that have produced Jewish persecution.
In the British House of Commons, on April 17, 1873, a bill for the removal of the disabilities of the Jews was the subject of parliamentary discussion. Lord Macaulay took part in the debate and spoke as follows:
The honorable member for Oldham tells us that the Jews are naturally a mean race, a money-getting race; that they are averse to all honorable callings; that they neither sow nor reap; that they have neither flocks nor herds; that usury is the only pursuit for which they are fit; that they are destitute of all elevated and amiable sentiments.
Such, sir, has in every age been the reasoning of bigots. They never fail to plead in justification of persecution the vices which persecution has engendered. England has been legally a home to the Jews less than half a century, and we revile them because they do not feel for England more than a half patriotism.
We treat them as slaves, and wonder that they do not regard us as brethren. We drive them to mean occupations, and then reproach them for not embracing honorable professions. We long forbade them to possess land, and we complain that they chiefly occupy themselves in trade. We shut them out from all the paths of ambition, and then we despise them for taking refuge in avarice.
During many ages we have, in our dealings with them, abused our immense superiority of force, and then we are disgusted because they have recourse to that cunning which to the natural and universal defence of the weak against the violence of the strong. But were they always a mere money-changing, money-getting, money-hoarding race? Nobody knows better than my honorable friend, the member for the University of Oxford, that there is nothing in their national character which unfits them for the highest duties of citizens.
He knows that, in the infancy of civilization, when our island was as savage as New Guinea, when letters and art were still unknown to Athens, when scarcely a thatched hut stood on what was afterwards the site of Rome, this contemned people had their fenced cities and cedar palaces, their splendid Temple, their fleets of merchant ships, their schools of sacred learning, their great statesmen and soldiers, their natural philosophers, their historians and their poets.
What nation ever contended more manfully against overwhelming odds for its independence and religion? What nation ever, in its last agonies, gave such signal proofs of what may be accomplished by a brave despair? And if, in the course of many centuries, the depressed descendants of warriors and sages have degenerated from the qualities of their fathers; if, while excluded from the blessings of law and bowed down under the yoke of slavery, they have contracted some of the vices of outlaws and slaves, shall we consider this is a matter of reproach to them? Shall we not rather consider it as a matter of shame and remorse to ourselves? Let us do justice to them. Let us open to them the door of the House of Commons. Let us open to them every career in which ability and energy can be displayed. Till we have done this, let us not presume to say that there is no genius among the countrymen of Isaiah, no heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees.
If the persecutor of the Jew is not moved by the eloquence of Macaulay or by the satire and sarcasm of Shakespeare, then let him call the roll of Hebrew great names and watch the mighty procession as it moves. Abraham among patriarchs; Moses among lawgivers; Isaiah and Jeremiah among prophets; Philo, Maimonides, Spinoza, and Mendelsohn among philosophers; Herschel, Sylvester, Jacobi, and Kronecker among mathematicians and astronomers; Josephus, Neander, Graetz, Palgrave, and Geiger among historians; Mendelssohn, Meyerbeer, Offenbach, Goldmark, Joachim, Rubinstein, and Strauss among musicians; Sonnenthal, Possart, Rachel, and Bernhardt among actors and actresses; Disraeli, Gambetta, Castelar, Lasker, Crémieux, and Benjamin among statesmen; Halevi and Heine among poets; Karl Marx and Samuel Gompers among labor leaders and political economists; the Rothschilds, Bleichrörders, Schiffs, and Seligmans among financiers; Auerbach and Nordau among novelists; Sir Moses Montefiore and Baron Hirsch among philanthropists!
But there are no Cæsars, no Napoleons, no Shakespeares, no Aristotles among them, you say? Maybe so; but what of that? Admitting that this is true, is anything proved by the fact? These characters represented mountain peaks of intellect, and were the isolated products of different races and different centuries. It may be justly observed that, of their kind, no others were comparable to them. But if the "mountain-peak" theory is to govern as to the intellectuality of races, will it be seriously contended that any one of the last-mentioned characters was equal in either spiritual or intellectual grandeur to the Galilean peasant, Jesus of Nazareth? If colossal forms of intellect and soul be invoked, does not the Jew still lead the universe?
Jesus was the most perfect product of Jewish spiritual creation, the most precious gem of human life. The most brilliant and civilized nations of the earth worship Him as God, "manifest in the flesh, justified by the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory."[124]
Both skeptics and believers of all ages have alike pronounced His name with reverence and respect. Even the flippant, sarcastic soul of Voltaire was awed, softened and subdued by the sweetness of His life and the majesty of His character.[125]
"If the life and death of Socrates are those of a sage," said Rousseau, "the life and death of Jesus are those of a God."[126]
"Jesus of Nazareth," says Carlyle, "our divinest symbol! Higher has the human thought not yet reached. A symbol of quite perennial, infinite character, whose significance will ever demand to be anew inquired into, and anew made manifest."[127]
"Jesus Christ," says Herder, "is in the noblest and most perfect sense, the realized ideal of humanity."[128]
"He is," says Strauss, "the highest object we can possibly imagine with respect to religion, the Being without whose presence in the mind perfect piety is impossible."[129]
"The Christ of the Gospels," says Renan, "is the most beautiful incarnation of God in the most beautiful of forms. His beauty is eternal; His reign will never end."[130]
Max Nordau betrays secret Jewish pride in Jesus when he says: "Jesus is soul of our soul, even as he is flesh of our flesh. Who, then, could think of excluding him from the people of Israel? St. Peter will remain the only Jew who has said of the Son of David, 'I know not the man.' Putting aside the Messianic mission, this man is ours. He honors our race, and we claim him as we claim the Gospels—flowers of Jewish literature and only Jewish."
"Is it a truth," asks Keim, "or is it nothing but words, when this virtuous God-allied human life is called the noblest blossom of a noble tree, the crown of the cedar of Israel? A full vigorous life in a barren time, a new building among ruins, an erect strong nature among broken ones, a Son of God among the godless and the God-forsaken, one who was joyous, hopeful, generous among those who were mourning and in despair, a freeman among slaves, a saint among sinners—by this contradiction to the facts of the time, by this gigantic exaltation above the depressed uniformity of the century, by this compensation for stagnation, retrogression, and the sickness of death in progress, health, force and color of eternal youth—finally, by the lofty uniqueness of what he achieved, of his purity, of his God-nearness—he produces, even with regard to endless new centuries that have through him been saved from stagnation and retrogression, the impression of mysterious solitariness, superhuman miracle, divine creation."[131]
"Between Him and whoever else in the world," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "there is no possible term of comparison."[132]
Throughout Napoleonic literature two names constantly recur as exhibiting the Corsican's ideals of spiritual and intellectual perfection. These names are those of Jesus Christ and Julius Cæsar. Napoleon's stupendous genius and incomprehensible destiny formed the basis of a secret conviction within his soul that with Jesus and Cæsar displaced, he himself would be the grandest ornament of history. But in the mind of the emperor there was no element of equality or comparison between Jesus and Cæsar. The latter he regarded as the crown and consummation of Roman manhood, the most superb character of the ancient world. The former he believed to be divine.
It was the custom of Napoleon while in exile at St. Helena to converse almost daily about the illustrious men of antiquity and to compare them with himself. On one occasion while talking upon his favorite theme with an officer, one of the companions of his exile, he suddenly stopped and asked: "But can you tell me who Jesus Christ was?" In reply, the officer candidly confessed that he had never thought much about the Nazarene. "Well, then," said Napoleon, "I will tell you." The illustrious captive then compared Jesus with the heroes of antiquity and finally with himself. The comparison demonstrated how paltry and contemptible was everything human when viewed in the light of the divine character and sublime achievements of the Man of Nazareth. "I think I understand somewhat of human nature," said Napoleon, "and I tell you all these were men, and I am a man, but not one is like Him; Jesus Christ was more than man. Alexander, Cæsar, Charlemagne, and myself founded great empires; but upon what did the creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions would die for Him."[133]
We have every reason to believe that the homage paid the character of Jesus by Napoleon was not merely the product of his brain, but was also the humble tribute of his heart. When the disasters of the Russian campaign broke upon his fortunes, when "the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves," the iron-hearted, granite-featured man who had "conquered the Alps and had mingled the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags," only laughed and joked. But, while contemplating the life and death of Jesus, he became serious, meditative and humble. And when he came to write his last will and testament, he made this sentence the opening paragraph: "I die in the Roman Catholic Apostolical religion, in the bosom of which I was born more than fifty years ago."[134] The Christianity of Napoleon has been questioned. It is respectfully submitted that only an ungenerous criticism will attribute hypocrisy to this final testimony of his religious faith. The imperial courage, the grandeur of character, and the loftiness of life of the greatest of the emperors negative completely the thought of insincerity in a declaration made at a time when every earthly inducement to misrepresentation had passed forever.
But Jesus was not the Christ, the Savior of warrior-kings alone, in the hour of death. On the battlefield of Inkerman an humble soldier fell mortally wounded. He managed to crawl to his tent before he died. When found he was lying face downward with the open Bible beside him. His right hand was glued with his lifeblood to Chapter XI., Verse 25 of St. John. When the hand was lifted, these words, containing the ever-living promise of the Master, could be clearly traced: "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live."
PART II
GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM
CHAPTER I
GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM
EXTENT of the Roman Empire at the Time of Christ.—The policy of ancient Rome was to extend and hold her possessions by force of arms. She made demands; and if they were not complied with, she spurned the medium of diplomacy and appealed for arbitrament to the god of battles. Her achievements were the achievements of war. Her glories were the glories of combat. Her trophies were the treasures of conquered provinces and chained captives bowed in grief and shame. Her theory was that "might makes right"; and in vindication and support of this theory she imbued her youth with a martial spirit, trained them in the use of arms from childhood to manhood, and stationed her legions wherever she extended her empire. Thus, military discipline and the fortune of successful warfare formed the basis of the prosperity of Rome.
At the period of which we write, her invincible legions had accomplished the conquest of the civilized earth. Britain, Gaul, Spain, Italy, Illyria, Greece, Asia Minor, Africa, Egypt, and the islands of the Mediterranean—six hundred thousand square leagues of the most fertile territory in the world—had been subdued to the Roman will and had become obedient to Roman decrees. "The empire of the Romans," says Gibbon, "filled the world, and when that empire fell into the hands of a single person, the world became a safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The slave of imperial despotism, whether he was compelled to drag his gilded chain in Rome and the Senate, or to wear out a life of exile on the barren rock of Seriphus, or on the frozen banks of the Danube, expected his fate in silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it was impossible to fly. On every side he was encompassed by a vast extent of sea and land, which he could never hope to traverse without being discovered, seized, and restored to his irritated master. Beyond the frontiers, his anxious view could discover nothing, except the ocean, inhospitable deserts, hostile tribes of barbarians, of fierce manners and unknown language, or dependent kings who would gladly purchase the emperor's protection by the sacrifice of an obnoxious fugitive. 'Wherever you are,' said Cicero to the exiled Marcellus, 'remember that you are equally within the power of the conqueror.'"
In obedience to a universal law of development and growth, when the Roman empire had reached the limits of physical expansion, when Roman conquest was complete, when Roman laws and letters had reached approximate perfection, and when Roman civilization had attained its crown and consummation, Roman decline began. The birth of the empire marked the beginning of the end. It was then that the shades of night commenced to gather slowly upon the Roman world; and that the Roman ship of state began to move slowly but inevitably, upon a current of indescribable depravity and degeneracy, toward the abyss. The Roman giant bore upon his shoulders the treasures of a conquered world; and Bacchus-like, reeled, crowned and drunken, to his doom.
No period of human history is so marked by lust and licentiousness as the history of Rome at the beginning of the Christian era. The Roman religion had fallen into contempt. The family instinct was dead, and the marital relation was a mockery and a shame. The humane spirit had vanished from Roman hearts, and slavery was the curse of every province of the empire. The destruction of infants and the gladiatorial games were mere epitomes of Roman brutality and degeneracy. Barbarity, corruption and dissoluteness pervaded every form of Roman life.
A perfect picture of the depravity of the times about which we write may be had from a perusal of the Roman satirists, Tacitus and Juvenal. The ordinary Roman debauchee was not the sole victim of their wrath. They chiseled the hideous features of the Cæsars with a finer stroke than that employed by Phidias and Praxiteles in carving statues of the Olympic gods.
The purpose of Part II of this volume is to give coloring and atmosphere to the picture of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus by describing: (1) The Græco-Roman religion; and (2) the Græco-Roman social life, during the century preceding and the century following the birth of the Savior.
1.—THE GRÆCO-ROMAN RELIGION
Origin and Multiplicity of the Roman Gods.—The Romans acquired their gods by inheritance, by importation, and by manufacture. The Roman race sprang from a union of Etruscans, Latins, and Sabines; and the gods of these different tribes, naturalized and adopted, were the first deities of Rome. Chief among them were Janus, Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. Other early Roman deities were Sol, the Sun, and Luna the Moon, both of Sabine origin; Mater Matuta, Mother of Day; Divus Pater Tiberinus, or Father Tiber; Fontus, the god of fountains; Vesta, the goddess of the hearth; and the Lares and Penates, household gods.
These primitive Italian divinities were at first mere abstractions, simple nature-powers; but later they were Hellenized and received plastic form. The Greeks and Romans had a common ancestry and the amalgamation of their religions was an easy matter. The successive steps in the process of blending the two forms of worship are historical. From Cumæ, one of the oldest Greek settlements in Italy, the famous Sibylline books found their way to Rome; and through these books the Greek gods and their worship established themselves in Italy. The date of the arrival of several of the Hellenic deities is well ascertained. The first temple to Apollo was vowed in the year 351 A.U.C. To check a lingering epidemic of pestilence and disease, the worship of Æsculapius was introduced from Epidaurus into Rome in the year 463. In 549, Cybele, the Idæan mother, was imported from Phrygia, in the shape of a black stone, and was worshiped at Rome by order of the Sibylline books.
In various ways, the Hellenization of the Roman religion was accomplished. The Decemviri, to whom the consulting of the Sibylline books was intrusted, frequently interpreted them to mean that certain foreign gods should be invited at once to take up their residence in Rome.
The introduction of Greek literature also resulted in the importation of Greek gods. The tragedies of Livius Andronicus and the comedies of Nævius, founded upon Greek legends of gods and heroes, were presented in Rome in the later years of the third century B.C. Fragments of Greek literature also began to make their way into the Capital about this time. Philosophers, rhetoricians, and grammarians flocked from Greece to Italy and brought with them the works of Homer, Hesiod and the Greek philosophers, whose writings were permeated with Greek mythology.
Grecian sculpture was as potent as Grecian literature in transforming and Hellenizing the religion of Rome. The subjugation of the Greek colonies in the south of Italy and the conquests of Greek cities like Syracuse and Corinth in the East, brought together in Rome the masterpieces of the Greek sculptors.
A determined effort was made from time to time by the patriotic Romans to destroy Hellenic influence and to preserve in their original purity early Roman forms of worship. But all attempts were futile. The average Roman citizen, though practical and unimaginative, was still enamored of the beautiful myths and exquisite statues of the Greek gods. And it was only by Hellenizing their own deities that they could bring themselves into touch and communion with the Hellenic spirit. The æsthetical and fascinating influence of the Greek language, literature and sculpture, was overwhelming. "At bottom, the Roman religion was based only on two ideas—the might of the gods who were friendly to Rome, and the power of the ceremonies over the gods. How could a religion, so poverty-stricken of thought, with its troops of phantom gods, beingless shadows and deified abstractions, remain unscathed and unaltered when it came in contact with the profusion of the Greek religion, with its circle of gods, so full of life, so thoroughly anthropomorphised, so deeply interwoven into everything human?"[135]
Not only from Greece but from every conquered country, strange gods were brought into Italy and placed in the Roman pantheon. When a foreign city was besieged and captured, the Romans, after a preliminary ceremony, invited the native gods to leave their temples and go to Rome where, they were assured, they would have much grander altars and would receive a more enthusiastic worship. It was a religious belief of the ancient masters of the world that gods could be enticed from their allegiance and induced to emigrate. In their foreign wars, the Romans frequently kept the names of their own gods secret to prevent the enemy from bribing them.
The gods at Rome increased in number just in proportion that the empire expanded. The admission of foreign territory brought with it the introduction of strange gods into the Roman worship.
When the Romans needed a new god and could not find a foreign one that pleased them, they deliberately manufactured a special deity for the occasion. In the breaking up and multiplication of the god-idea, they excelled all the nations of antiquity. It was the duty of the pontiffs to manufacture a divinity whenever an emergency arose and one was needed. The god-casting business was a regular employment of the Decemviri and the Quindecemviri; and a perusal of the pages of Roman history reveals these god-makers actively engaged in their workshops making some new deity to meet some new development in Roman life.
The extent of the polytheistic notions of the ancient Romans is almost inconceivable to the modern mind. Not only were the great forces of nature deified, but the simplest elements of time, of thought, and action. Ordinary mental abstractions were clothed with the attributes of gods. Mens (Mind), Pudicitia (Chastity), Pietas (Piety), Fides (Fidelity), Concordia (Concord), Virtus (Courage), Spes (Hope), and Voluptas (Pleasure), were all deities of the human soul, and were enthusiastically worshiped by the Romans. A single human action was frequently broken into parts each of which had a little god of its own. The beginning of a marriage had one deity and its conclusion, another. Cunina was the cradle-goddess of a child. Statilinus, Edusa, Potnia, Paventia, Fabelinus and Catius were other goddesses who presided over other phases of its infancy. Juventas was the goddess of its youth; and, in case of loss of parents, Orbona was the goddess that protected its orphanage.
Any political development in the Roman state necessitated a new divinity to mark the change. In the early periods of their history, the Romans used cattle as a medium of exchange in buying and bartering. Pecunia was then the goddess of such exchange. But when, in later times, copper money came into use, a god called Æsculanus was created to preside over the finances; and when, still later, silver money began to be used, the god Argentarius was called into being to protect the coinage. This Argentarius was naturally the son of Æsculanus.
Not only the beneficent but the malign forces of nature were deified. Pests, plagues, and tempests had their special divinities who were to be placated. "There were particular gods for every portion of a dwelling—the door, the threshold of the door, and even the hinges of the door. There was a special god for each different class—even the most menial and the most immoral; and a special divinity for those who were afflicted in a peculiar manner, such as the childless, the maimed or the blind. There was the god of the stable, and the goddess of the horses; there were gods for merchants, artists, poets and tillers of the soil. The gods must be invoked before the harvest could be reaped; and not even a tree could be felled in the forest without supplicating the unknown god who might inhabit it."[136]
The extreme of the Roman divinity-making process was the deification of mere negative ideas. Tranquillitas Vacuna was the goddess of "doing nothing."
Not only were special actions and peculiar ideas broken up and subdivided with an appropriate divinity for each part or subdivision, but the individual gods themselves were subdivided and multiplied. It is said that there were three hundred Jupiters in Rome. This means that Jupiter was worshiped under three hundred different forms. Jupiter Pluvius, Jupiter Fulgurator, Jupiter Tonans, Jupiter Fulminator, Jupiter Imbricitor, Jupiter Serenator, were only a few designations of the supreme deity of the Romans.
It will thus be seen that polytheism was insatiable in its thirst for new and strange gods. When the god-casting business was once begun, there was no end to it. And when the Roman empire had reached its greatest expansion, and Roman public and private life had attained to complete development, the deities of the Roman religion were innumerable. No pantheon could hold them, and no Roman could remember the names of all. Temples of the gods were everywhere to be found throughout the empire; and where there were no altars or temples, certain trees, stones and rocks were decorated with garlands and worshiped as sacred places which the gods were supposed to frequent. Thus the Roman world became crowded with holy places, and the gods and goddesses became an innumerable host. Petronius makes a countrywoman from a district adjoining Rome declare that it was much easier to find a god in her neighborhood than a man. We shall see that the multiplicity of the gods was finally the cause of the decay and ruin of the Roman religion.
The Roman Priesthood.—The Roman priesthood was composed of several orders of pontiffs, augurs, keepers of the Sibylline books, Vestal virgins, epulos, salians, lupercals, etc.
Fifteen pontiffs exercised supreme control in matters of religion. They were consecrated to the service of the gods; and all questions of doubtful religious interpretation were submitted to the judgment of their tribunal.
Fifteen learned and experienced augurs observed the phenomena of nature and studied the flight of birds as a means of directing the actions of the state.
Fifteen keepers of the Sibylline books read the pages of their treasures and from them divined coming events.
Six Vestals, immaculate in their virginity, guarded the Roman sacred fire, and presided at the national hearthstone of the Roman race.
Seven epulos conducted the solemn processions and regulated the religious ceremonies at the annual festivals of the gods.
Fifteen flamens were consecrated to the service of separate deities. Those of Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus were held in the highest esteem. The Flamen Dialis, or priest of Jupiter, was loaded down with religious obligations and restrictions. He was not permitted to take an oath, to ride, to have anything tied with knots on his person, to look at a prisoner, see armed men, or to touch a dog, a goat, or raw flesh, or yeast. He was not allowed to bathe in the open air; nor could he spend the night outside the city. He could resign his office only on the death of his wife. The Salians were priests of Mars, who, at festivals celebrated in honor of the war-god, danced in heavy armor, and sang martial hymns.
Roman Forms of Worship.—Roman worship was very elaborate and ceremonial. It consisted of sacrifices, vows, prayers, and festivals. With the exception of the ancient Hebrews, the Romans were the greatest formalists and ritualists of antiquity. Every act of Roman public and private life was supposed to be framed in accordance with the will of the gods. There was a formula of prayer adapted to every vicissitude of life. Cæsar never mounted his chariot, it is said, that he did not repeat a formula three times to avert dangers.
A painful exactness in the use of words was required in the offering of a Roman prayer. A syllable left out or a word mispronounced, or the intervention of any disturbing cause of evil import, would destroy the merit of the formula. The Romans believed that the voice of prayer should not be interrupted by noises or bad omens. And that the sound of evil augury might not be heard at the moment of supplication, they were in the habit of covering their ears. Musical notes of favorable import were not objectionable, and frequently flutes were played while the prayer was being offered to chase away disturbing sounds. At other times, the priests had special assistants whose duty it was to maintain silence during the recital of the formula. But, if the ceremony was successful, if the language had been correctly pronounced, without the omission or addition of a word; if all disturbing causes and things of evil omen had been alienated from the services, then the granting of the prayer was assured, regardless of the motive or intention of the person praying. It should be remembered that piety and faith were not necessary to the efficacy of Roman prayer. Ceremonial precision, rather than purity of heart, was pleasing to the Roman gods. A peculiar element entered into the religions of both the ancient Romans and the ancient Hebrews. It was the principle of contract in an almost purely juristic sense. Both the Romans and the Hebrews believed that if the divine law was obeyed to the letter, their deities were under the strictest obligation to grant their petitions.
Under the Roman form of worship, a peculiar act of supplication was performed by the suppliant who kissed his right hand, turned round in a circle by the right, and then seated himself upon the ground. This was done in obedience to one of the laws of Numa. The circular movement of the earth, it was thought, was symbolized by the turning round in a circle; and the sitting down indicated that the suppliant was confidant that his prayer would be granted.
The Romans believed that prayers were more efficacious if said in the immediate presence and, if possible, in actual contact with the image of the god. The doorkeepers of the temple were frequently besieged by suppliants who begged to be admitted into the inclosures of the sacred places where they might pray to the deity on the spot.
On account of the vast numbers of the gods, the Romans were sometimes at a loss to know which one to address in prayer. Unlike the Greeks, they had no preferences among their deities. Each was supplicated in his turn according to the business in hand. But they were frequently in doubt as to the name of the god who had control of the subject-matter of their petitions. In such cases, the practical genius of the Roman people served them well. They had recourse to several expedients which they believed would insure success. When in doubt as to the particular divinity which they should address in supplication, they would, at times, invoke, in the first place, Janus, the god of all good beginnings, the doorkeeper, so to speak, of the pantheon, who, it was believed, would deliver the prayer to the proper deity. At other times, in such perplexity, they would address their petitions to a group of gods in which they knew the right one was bound to be. It sometimes happened that they did not know whether the deity to be supplicated was a god or goddess. In such an emergency, they expressed themselves very cautiously, using the alternative proviso: "Be thou god or goddess." At other times, in cases of extreme doubt, they prayed to all the deities at once; and often, in fits of desperation, they dismissed the entire pantheon and addressed their prayers to the Unknown God.
Another mode of propitiating the gods was by sacrifice. Animals, the fruits of the fields, and even human beings were devoted to this purpose. In the matter of sacrifice, the practical genius of the Roman people was again forcibly manifested. They were tactful enough to adapt the sacrifice to the whims and tastes of the gods. A provision of the Twelve Tables was that "such beasts should be used for victims as were becoming and agreeable to each deity." The framers of these laws evidently believed that the gods had keenly whetted appetites and discriminating tastes in the matter of animal sacrifice. Jupiter Capitolinus was pleased with an offering of white cattle with gilded horns, but would not accept rams or bulls. Mars, Neptune and Apollo were, on the other hand, highly delighted with the sacrifice of bulls. It was also agreeable to Mars to have horses, cocks, and asses sacrificed in his honor. An intact heifer was always pleasing to the goddess Minerva. A white cow with moon-shaped horns delighted Juno Calendaris. A sow in young was sacrificed to the great Mother; and doves and sparrows to Venus. Unweaned puppies were offered as victims of expiation to the Lares and Penates. Black bulls were usually slaughtered to appease the infernal gods.
The most careful attention was given to the selection of the victims of sacrifice from the flocks and herds. Any serious physical defect in the animal disqualified. A calf was not fit for slaughter if its tail did not reach to the joint of the leg. Sheep with cloven tongues and black ears were rejected. Black spots on a white ox had to be rubbed white with chalk before the beast was available for sacrifice.
Not only animals were sacrificed, but human beings as well, to appease the wrath of the gods in time of awful calamity. In early Roman history, gray-headed men of sixty years were hurled from the Pons Sublicius into the Tiber as an offering to Saturn. In the year 227 B.C., the pontiffs discovered from the Sibylline books that the Gauls and Greeks were to attack and capture the city. To fulfill the prophecy and, at the same time to avert the danger, the senate decreed that a man and woman of each of these two nations should be buried alive in the forum as a form of constructive possession. This was nothing but a human sacrifice to the gods.
Again, two of Cæsar's soldiers, who had participated in a riot in Rome, were taken to the Campus Martius and sacrificed to Mars by the pontiffs and the Flamen Martialis. Their heads were fixed upon the Regia, as was the case in the sacrifice of the October-horse. As an oblation to Neptune, Sextus Pompeius had live men and horses thrown into the sea at the time when a great storm was destroying the fleet of the enemy.
A near approach to human sacrifice was the custom of sprinkling the statue of Jupiter Latiaris with the blood of gladiators. A priest caught the blood as it gushed from the wound of the dying gladiator, and dashed it while still warm at the face of the image of the god.
Suetonius tells us that after the capture of Perugia, Augustus Cæsar slaughtered three hundred prisoners as an expiatory sacrifice to Julius Cæsar.
Thus at the beginning of the Christian era, human beings were still being sacrificed on the altars of superstition.
Ascertaining the Will of the Gods.—Various methods were employed by the Romans in ascertaining the will of the gods. Chief among these were the art of divination from the flight of birds and from the inspection of the entrails of animals; also from the observation of lightning and the interpretation of dreams. The Romans had no oracles like those of the Greeks, but they frequently sent messengers to consult the Delphic oracle.
Nothing is stranger or more disgusting in all the range of religious history than the practice of the Roman haruspices. That the ancient masters of the world should have felt themselves obliged to search in the belly of a beast for the will of Jupiter is one of the abominable enigmas of Pagan superstition. The inspection of the entrails of victims was a Tuscan science, early imported from Etruria, and naturalized at Rome. Tuscan haruspices accompanied the Roman armies everywhere, and determined by their skill whether a battle should be fought or a retreat ordered. When it was doubtful what to do, an animal was slaughtered, and the heart, lungs, liver, tongue, spleen, kidneys and caul were closely inspected with the aid of a small needle or knife. Various conditions and appearances of these parts were considered as signs of the pleasure or disfavor of the gods. Largely developed veins on the adverse side were considered tokens of extreme displeasure and an indication of pending misfortune. It was also considered gravely ominous when the head or protuberance in the right lobe of the liver was wanting. The Romans were too practical and indomitable, however, to allow a single bad omen to frustrate a great enterprise. If the inspection of the entrails of the first animal was not favorable, they slaughtered still others until a propitious sign was observed. At times, a score of beasts were slain before the gods gave assent to the enterprise in hand.
Divination from the flight and notes of birds was another method employed by the Romans in finding out the will of the gods. And it may be remarked that this was certainly a more rational and elevated form of divination than that which we have just discussed. An eagle swooping down from the skies would certainly be a more natural and pleasing suggestion of the thoughts and attributes of Jove than the filthy interior of the entrails of a bull.
The elements of divination from the flight of birds were derived either from the significant notes and sounds of their voices, or from the manner in which their wings were flapped or their flight conducted. If the bird flew from the left to the right of the augur, it was considered a happy omen; if the flight was in the opposite direction, the enterprise in hand had to be abandoned or at least delayed. Augury by flight was usually applied to eagles and vultures, while woodpeckers, ravens, crows, and screech owls announced the will of the gods by note. The direction from which the note came, usually determined the nature of the augury. But, in the case of the screech owl, the sounds were always of evil omen, from whatever side they came. And those who have been so unfortunate as to hear its mournful, desolate and God-forsaken tones will not be disposed to censure either the Romans or their gods for the low esteem in which they held this bird.
Again, it was a principle of Roman augury that auspices could be neutralized or overcome. If a crow furnished an omen, and an eagle gave another which was opposed to it, the first sign was wiped out, because the eagle was a larger and nobler bird than the crow. And, as in the case of prayer, so also in the matter of the auspices, a disturbing sound would destroy the effect of the augury. The squeak or cry of a mouse would destroy a message from Jupiter conveyed in the scream of an eagle.
But the most potent manifestation of the divine mind, among the ancient Romans, was that derived from thunder and lightning. Lightning to them was the sovereign expression of the will of the gods; and a single flash blotted out every other sign and token. It was an irrevocable presage and could not be remotely modified or evaded. It came directly from the hand of the deity and was an emphatic revelation of the divine mind. All places struck by lightning were considered sacred and were consecrated to the god who had sent the bolt. Upon the spot where it fell, an altar was raised and an inclosure formed. The service of consecration consisted in burying the lightning, that is, in restoring the earth thrown up by it, and in the sacrifice of a two-year-old sheep. All such places were considered hallowed spots and it was impious and sacrilegious to touch them or even look at them. The gods deprived of reason those who destroyed the altars and sacred inclosures of these places.
These various methods of ascertaining the will of the deities were employed in every important transaction of Roman public and private life. At times, all of them coöperated on occasions of vast import and when the lives and destinies of great men were involved.
The following single paragraph from Suetonius contains allusions to all the modes of divination which we have just discussed: