The History of Christianity - John S. C. Abbott (bookstand for reading .txt) 📗

a virtuous sovereign. The soldiers, accustomed to plunder and license, desired a ruler who would gratify all their fierce and luxurious desires. They were exceedingly dissatisfied with the restraints which Galba imposed upon them. They wished for a tyrant who would trample down the nations, and who would allow the army to share in the plunder. Consequently, the soldiers were ripe for insurrection both against Galba and Piso.

There was a man in the army named Otho. He was one of the vilest of the vile; and had been so intimately the friend and accomplice of Nero, that he had ardently hoped for adoption. Tacitus says of him,—

“Otho was a stranger from his earliest days to every fair pursuit, and in the pride of manhood was distinguished for nothing but riot and debauchery. His emulation in luxury recommended him to the notice of Nero.” Most of the soldiers favored his views, and the creatures of Nero’s court zealously supported him as a congenial character. Numbers lamented the loss of Nero, and longed for the former laxity of discipline.

Otho formed a conspiracy in the army against Galba. He ridiculed his severe discipline, the restraints he imposed upon his troops, and his neglect to enrich them with plunder, and pamper them with luxuries. He assured them that Piso would be like Galba; that he would in the same way restrain their passions, and enforce rigid discipline. With talent for sarcasm, he scouted the idea of justice and mercy, declaring “that the affectation of practising such virtues, as they were called, was ridiculous in such a world as this.”

The conspiracy ripened. At the appointed time, the soldiers, with clashing of weapons and loud huzzas, raised Otho upon their shoulders, and declared him to be their emperor. The virtuous Galba was pursued with malignity even more intense than that which had driven Nero to suicide. The scene of his death is minutely described by Tacitus. Tumultuous thousands of the Roman soldiers, with oaths and imprecations, rushed from their encampment into the city to the palace of the emperor. A resistless mob of armed demoniac men surged through the streets. The populace fled before them. Galba had left the palace, and was on his way to the Forum. The infuriate mob of infantry and cavalry scattered in all directions. Some burst into the Forum, and trampled the senators beneath their feet. Galba was seized. As the assassins gathered around him, he looked up, and calmly said,—

“If you wish for my head, here it is. I am willing at any time to surrender it for the good of the Roman people.”

Scarcely had he uttered these words ere a sinewy soldier, with one blow of his heavy broadsword, struck off his head, and it rolled upon the pavement. Another soldier seized it by the hair, and thrust a pike into the palpitating flesh; and, with the shoutings of tumultuous thousands, the gory trophy was paraded through the streets. Such were the scenes which were witnessed in pagan Rome while the disciples of Jesus were preaching in obscurity, but with invincible zeal, from house to house, the gospel of love to God, and love to man.

The senate, overawed by the army, was compelled to ratify this foul assassination, and to declare Otho emperor. We have now reached the year of our Lord 67.

There was at this time an ambitious but able general, named Vitellius, in command of a powerful Roman army upon the Danube. He had secured the good-will of his fiendlike troops by the plunder which he allowed them, and the license in which they were permitted to indulge. He refused to recognize Otho as emperor; and, raising the standard of revolt, by a vote of the army caused the imperial dignity to be conferred upon himself. Vitellius, at the head of his army, marched upon Rome to wrest the sceptre from the hands of his rival. Otho advanced to meet him. The armies were each seventy thousand strong. They encountered each other on the plains of Lombardy, near Mantua. The battle was long and bloody. At length, the legions of Otho were utterly routed and dispersed. Dismissing most of his attendants, the ruined adventurer fell upon his own sword, and died. He had previously requested his slaves to bury him immediately. “This had been his earnest request,” writes Tacitus, “lest his head should be cut off, and be made a public spectacle.”

Vitellius, who at once compelled the senate to proclaim him emperor, was not by nature a tyrannical man; but he was luxurious and dissolute in the extreme, surrendering himself to every possible form of self-indulgence. He even equalled Nero in his unbridled, shameless profligacy. It is said that the expenses of his table alone, for a period of four months, amounted to a sum equal to about thirty million dollars.

There was little in the character of such a man to excite either respect or fear. A conspiracy was soon formed for his overthrow. There was quite a distinguished general, named Vespasian, in command of the Roman army in Judæa. He had acquired celebrity in the wars of Germany and Britain, and, having been consul at Rome, had many acquaintances of influence there. Vespasian entered into a correspondence with the conspirators. It was not difficult to induce his soldiers to proclaim him emperor.

Vespasian, remaining himself in the East, sent his army, under his ablest generals, to Rome. A terrible battle was fought beneath its walls and through its streets, during which the beautiful capitol, the pride of the city, was laid in ashes. The troops of Vespasian were triumphant, and the opposing ranks were utterly crushed. Vitellius, as cowardly as he was infamous, hid in the cabin of a slave. He was dragged forth, and paraded through the streets, with his hands bound behind him, and with a rope round his neck. After enduring hours of ignominy, derision, and torture, he was beaten to death by the clubs of the soldiers. His body was then dragged over the pavements; and the mangled mass, having lost all semblance of humanity, was thrown into the Tiber.

The obsequious senate immediately united with the victorious army in declaring Vespasian emperor. While these scenes of tumult and carnage were transpiring, and the whole Roman empire was desolated with poverty, oppression, and woe, Christianity was making rapid and noiseless progress among the masses of the people in many remote provinces of the empire too obscure or distant to attract the attention of the emperors. The teachings of Jesus were alike adapted to one and to all, to every condition, and to every conceivable circumstance in life. The doctrines of the cross came with moral guidance and with unspeakable consolation to all who would accept them,—to the millions of bondmen; to the despised freedmen; to the soldier; to centurions, governors, and generals; to the members of the imperial palace. It said to all, “Earth is not your home: lay up for yourselves treasure in heaven. Accept life’s discipline, bear it patiently, that you may be prepared by it for honor, glory, and immortality in heaven.”

The Jews in Judæa took advantage of these civil discords to rise in rebellion against their Roman masters. Vespasian organized an army, which he placed under his son Titus, to quell the revolt. When Jesus was crucified at Jerusalem, the Jews said, “His blood be upon us and on our children.” It was a fearful imprecation, and terribly was it realized. Christ had minutely foretold the utter destruction of Jerusalem, so “that not even one stone should be left upon another.”

“When ye shall see Jerusalem,” said Jesus, “compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in Judæa flee to the mountains, and let them which are in the midst of it depart out; and let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto. For these be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled. But woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck, in those days! for there shall be great distress in the land, and wrath upon this people. And they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away captive into all nations; and Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles.”169

It was in the year of our Lord 70. Vials of woe, which even the mystic symbols of apocalyptic vision cannot exaggerate, were poured out upon the doomed city. Human nature has perhaps never before nor since endured such woes. It is impossible for the imagination to conceive more appalling horrors, or sufferings more terrible, than were then experienced. The reader will find those scenes of rage, despair, and misery, minutely detailed by the pen of Josephus. It requires strong nerves to enable any one to peruse the revolting narrative with composure.

Probably the disciples of the Saviour, warned by their divine Master, had all fled from Jerusalem and Judæa, conveying the tidings of the gospel wherever they went in their wide dispersion. Our Saviour had urged them to a precipitate flight. “When ye therefore shall see,” said he, “the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet” (referring to the Roman armies), “stand in the holy place, then let them which be in Judæa flee into the mountains; let him which is on the housetop not come down to take any thing out of his house; neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes: for then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time; no, nor ever shall be. And, except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved; but, for the elect’s sake, those days shall be shortened.”170

The siege lasted six months. The city was entirely demolished. A million of Jews perished by the sword, pestilence, and famine. A hundred thousand who were taken captive were sold into slavery. All Judæa was thus brought again into submission to Rome. Titus, laden with the spoils of the city, and accompanied by his long train of captives, returned in triumph to Rome. He was received with universal acclaim. The signal victory he had achieved strengthened the throne of his father. In commemoration of the event, a triumphal arch was erected,—the Arch of Titus. This massive structure, reared eighteen hundred years ago, remains almost perfect to the present day. It still attracts the thoughtful gaze of every tourist in Rome.

Vespasian proved one of the best of the Roman emperors. With great energy and wisdom, he devoted himself to the welfare of his wide-spread realms. It was during his reign that the world-renowned Coliseum, was reared,—the most gigantic amphitheatre in the world. It furnished seats for eighty thousand spectators, and standing-room for twenty thousand more. It was in the arena of this vast edifice that subsequently so many Christians, with a hundred thousand spectators gazing mockingly upon them, endured the pangs and won the crown of martyrdom.

But under Vespasian there was no persecution. Indeed, it is probable, that he, residing so long in Judæa, had, like Felix, become somewhat acquainted with Christian doctrines; and, like Agrippa, he may have been almost persuaded to become a Christian. The teachings of Jesus exert an ennobling influence far beyond the bounds of the organized church; and it is certain that Vespasian exhibited a character of humanity, of purity, of interest in the public welfare, very different from that which was developed by most of the Roman emperors. Still there is no evidence that he became an acknowledged disciple of Jesus. It is said that he died on the 24th of June, A.D. 79, after a prosperous reign of ten years.

Feeling himself to be dangerously ill, he remarked to those around him, derisively, in view of what he knew would be the action of