Westward empire

by Elias Lyman Magoon

Of all ancient literatures, the Roman was most insensible to past beauty, and future progress. The only voice among them, which chimed with the continuous prophets and evangelists of advancing humanity was the vague aspiration of Virgil, expressed in his Eclogue to Pollio. Therein, the blessings of peace are celebrated, and the prospects of a yet better age are foreshadowed. Notwithstanding the power of prejudice and imperialism, the better instincts of enlightened man in every age have anticipated a still fairer golden age, and prepared for its advent. When the great orient from on high rose over the wilderness of Roman life, the Gentiles, with prompt gratitude hailed from the East its long-desired beams. At that time earth afforded nothing better for the soul to feed upon than the mere dross of religion, which remains in the crucible of a godless reason, after the evaporation of all spirit and life. Something positive and inspiring was needed in palpable manifestation, and the blessedness of Heaven came into the great middle path of humanity to roll on the ages in brightening splendors. Says Bunsen, "Judaism died of having given birth to Him who proclaimed the Spirit of the Law. Hellenism met Christianity by its innate consciousness of the incarnation, and then died; surviving only by eternal thought and imperishable art. Romanism taught young Christianity to regulate the spirit in its application to the concerns of human society; when, after it became powerful, it taught a religious corporation to resist a despotic and corrupt court, and to civilize barbarians."

Jesus came to do his work of salvation, not as a mighty one, nor as a High Priest, or even as a Jew; he does it simply as the "Son of Man," an inestimable blessing for all mankind. The material temple was therefore doomed to be destroyed, never to be rebuilt; for thenceforth the temple of God is man. This union, which the great Mediator declared to be the essence of true religion, will be carried on by that Spirit of God which was in Jesus, and which by his being One with the Father, made him the very mirror and eternal thought of divine love. As Jesus, in his progressive life and work glorified the Father, so believing humanity, in the progressiveness of the truth on earth will glorify God in heaven. As it was up to the point where universal history culminated in the advent of Christ, so doubtless will it continue to be. Nations may perish by the judgment of God, and new nations take their place; but the truth and righteousness of God will become increasingly manifest, until all divine purposes are realized, and the whole world is blessed.

The Romans were distinguished by their keen enjoyment of carnal pleasures, and their excess in every form of physical and mental indulgence. Never were a people mightier in strength or more lawless in action. From the time when Brutus first stained his name with the blood of assassination, to the darker period when Nero rioted in the most brutal vices, never were a people more colossal in moral guilt as well as in martial dominion. The profusion and luxury of a Roman life were commensurate with their capacity for gross excitement and the means of gratifying it, both of which were boundless. All that earth could furnish they commanded, but even this was insufficient to feed the flames of their lust, and, through grovelling debasement, they sank to the brink of extinction. The fitting symbol of their volcanic character and condition was Vesuvius when, B.C. 73, Spartacus, a fugitive slave, at the head of a hoard of gladiators and fellow-vassals in revolt, encamped on the summit, where they were blockaded in the midst of impending flames. The fearful unsatisfied desire to soar into infinity common to every human breast, in them took no nobler form than that powerful instinct of patriotism which burned in a few heroes and patriots. Regulus, who, with eyes cast down, tore himself from his kindred, quitted Rome, and hurried to the country of his enemies;—Decius, who, devoting himself to the infernal gods, invoked their vengeance upon his head, and rushed into the arms of death, seemed rather demigods than men. But, compared with the glowing cheerfulness of Leonidas, they were barbarians, since the law they fulfilled was without love. Even those who died at Thermopylæ can scarcely be regarded to have been actuated by true patriotism; but in fulfilling a national vow as they fell, there was something sublimer manifested than Rome ever knew, when the Spartan leader dictated that lofty inscription on the mountain-monument, "Stranger, tell at Lacedæmon, that we died here in obedience to her sacred laws."

Having attained an almost boundless power over the earth, the Romans neglected the traditional deities of their forefathers, and set themselves up as gods. The Egyptians deified brutes; the Greeks, ideas; and the Romans, men. The religion of the latter, or bond which kept the tumultuous aggregation of conquered nations moving sympathetically round one centre, was glory and luxury; hence, the monuments which the Romans have handed down to us as the true chronicles of their times, are least of all religious, such as the Coliseum, the Baths, Theatres, and Triumphal Arches. At the darkest and most oppressive hour appeared Jesus, and a religion was preached which gave to monotheism, until then a national worship of the Hebrews, a cosmopolitic character. All men were invited to become Christians by the apostles of that great founder of this faith, who had abstained not only from touching upon politics in general, but from any question which does not directly belong to religion and morality, or is not nearly allied with either. Nothing was permitted to be an obstacle in the way of his religion being received at once in all climes and by all classes of mankind. The spiritual value of the individual was immeasurably raised, and Jehovah was proclaimed to be the God of all men, high or low, distant or near, and before whom all are equal. A territory was made known beyond the state; and every man, slave or citizen, was shown to be a moral agent, bound under the highest law to fulfill his duties and receive his reward according to his deeds. Religion was no longer the apotheosis of might, but the discharge of duty and the worship of love.

By its own unaided wisdom, the ancient world could never comprehend the mystery of creation. The Mosaic writings were early rendered into Greek, and many critics, probably, before Longinus, felt and admired their sublimity; but they knew not what to make of these remarkable novelties, and the best of the Greeks and Romans never wrote as if they were at home in them. Nor could it well be otherwise, since their notions respecting the origin of man, as well as concerning the purpose of all knowledge, were so absurd. The grosser element of the human being, earth, occupied the chief consideration, while the spark of divinity in man was viewed as a theft from heaven, and the reward of successful knavery. Still less could they comprehend the mystery of redemption. Their consciousness with respect to God was thoroughly disorganized, and through thousands of years they oscillated between the lower and higher life in perpetual restlessness. They dwelt perpetually between atonement and thanksgiving, without one true and distinct comprehension of either. The smoke of sacrifice ascended from innumerable oblations perpetually renewed, but the effective sacrifice was never found, and the benighted worshiper still felt himself alienated from God. The heart of humanity bore an enigma which time and sense could never solve. Bunsen well states the facts as follows: "Christ put an end to this unhappy discord by the free and loving surrender of his own will to that of the Father; an act of life and death, in which Christ and the whole Christian Church throughout the world with Him, recognize the self-sacrifice of the Deity himself, and which philosophy (in other words, reason awakened to consciousness,) demands as an eternal act of God. Through this act of eternal love, the act of the Incarnate God, as many as believed in it, became recipients of the new spirit, of a new, divine, inward power. The inward consciousness of the eternal redeeming love of God (that is faith) imparted the capacity of feeling at one with God in spite of sin; for it gave men the power of severing sin, as an evil hostile element, from their real self, and therefore of freeing their life from that selfishness, which is the root of all evil in it. A free devotion to God and our brethren in thankful love now became possible—a devotion for God's sake, arising from a feeling of gratitude toward Him who first loved us. In the language of historical revelation this idea is thus expressed. The great atonement or sin-offering of mankind was consummated by Christ, by means of his personal sacrifice: the great thank-offering of mankind became possible through Christ, by means of the Spirit."

Thus, cotemporaneously with Augustus transpired that central event of all history. The free personal sacrifice of Christ offered once for all, gloriously realizing all that of which the whole Levitical priesthood and sacrifice was nothing but a shadow and a type. Man had already tenanted the earth thousands of years, when that child was born whose mission was to produce effects so incalculably great that even yet probably men are but seeing the beginning of them. As soon as the way was sufficiently prepared, Christ came to abolish the law by fulfilling it. He rendered manifest those sacred forms which a bigoted understanding had as yet failed to understand. From the bosom of a contracted people, the Son of Man arose to proclaim the Universal Father—that God who, as the most intelligent of Christians declared to the Athenians, "hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth." For this sublime doctrine the moment had at length arrived; a race of men existed who were ready to receive its announcement and appreciate its worth. Says Eusebius, "Like a sunbeam it streamed over the face of the earth." Mankind had now received something better than Greek or Roman cultivation, which is nothing but the varnish of civilization. The doctrines of Christ subdue and save humanity by making authority a thing inviolable, by making obedience a thing holy, and by making self-renouncement and charity things divine. Under the force of law, a Curtius or a Codrus could die for the salvation of his country, and a Regulus for the superstition of his oath; but the Christian martyrs made the like sacrifice for conscience, and the baptism of their blood, falling under the Cross, was the primary seed of earth's richest harvest. In the hands of Providence new wine is never put into old bottles. The leaven of Christianity for a season seemed lost in the lump of human sin; nevertheless, it was doing its great work with resistless power. Its first progress was marked by blood and flame, only to be more widely seen and longer remembered. The ashes of meek heroes sowed the earth with Cadmean germs, powerful in growth and prolific of good. All adverse winds were let loose, but they only blew the fires of divine illumination into a loftier and wider splendor.

During the first three hundred years after the promulgation of Christianity, it was assailed by the learned, ridiculed by the sarcastic, opposed by the mighty, and on all sides persecuted and oppressed. Yet the church grew and prospered. The disciples of Christ had other lessons to learn and other duties to perform than the schools of human wisdom could inculcate, but this did not prevent the existence of many learned Christians. The great Origen was surpassed by none of his cotemporaries among the Greeks; and Minucius Felix, Tertullian, and Lactantius stood first in Latin ranks. It was a time when injured rights and insulted virtue demanded the most exalted oratory, and the early fathers were not wanting in its divinest use. Chrysostom, for example, warmed his century like a sun. In good time certain men of the most despised nation came up to the great city of power and pride. They were regarded as the scum and offscouring of the lowest ranks, and their religious rites were declared to be impious. Their God had been crucified under the Procurator of Judea, and his body had been stolen from a hidden grave. But the new doctrines continued to spread, although the magistrates resisted them, and more than ten times the Augusti raised their swords against the "execrable superstition." The altars of the great gods were deserted, their temples decayed, their images were dethroned, and in their stead, in their very place often, rose the edifices of those who adored the Nazarene, and scorned the ancient deities of the Quirites. Thenceforth Rome ceased to be invincible. The East was encroached upon, and the West fell under the flood of hostile barbarians. The sceptre was removed to another city, and the huge universal empire was dissolved. Rome was humbled to the lowest degree, and bowed her neck to her captors.

The adaptation of the primitive apostles to their respective missions is worthy of especial attention. Peter was the rock of the church, representing its firmness to endure rather than its aggressive force. He was the teacher of order, as John was the disciple of love, and Paul the great champion of spiritual freedom and doctrinal faith. At Joppa was vouchsafed to Peter the vision that rebuked his Jewish prejudice, and which at Cæsarea prompted this key-holder of the heavenly kingdom before Cornelius the Italian, to unfold doors to an empire which soon threw Rome into the shade, and hung the fragrant amaranths of peace above the bloody trophies of war. It is probable that he was carried to the imperial city to suffer martyrdom; but that this apostle was teaching there when the Epistle to the Romans was written it is impossible to believe. To prove that fact, or even to admit that he was a teacher there after his brother apostle's writings were received, is to annihilate the assumption that Peter was the founder of the Roman church. He doubtless planted Christianity in oriental Babylon, but a mightier head and heart were employed to distribute the same inestimable treasure in the West. The spheres of the two great leaders were unlike, but in life and death their aims and rewards were one.

The zealous Pharisee who so long and learnedly sat at the feet of Gamaliel, and whose soul, so like a sea of glass mingled with fire, was thoroughly imbued with heavenly power on the plains of Damascus, was the predestined hero of liberty and truth to the progressive races. Asiatic by birth, but European in mental structure, his faculties were the best on earth for the work to which they were made subservient, when at Philippi his hand kindled the torch of salvation on the eastern edge of Europe, which thenceforth was to burn through all tempests, and with constantly increasing brightness, westward round the globe. Like the great law-giver of the old dispensation, this pioneer of the new was master of all the learning of the Egyptians, and when the completed accomplishments of Greece were superadded under the transforming power of divine grace, the mighty aggregate was thrown upon the great deep, and commerce became a grand instrument of civilization. With the pagan signal of Castor and Pollux floating at mast-head, and the wealth of Africa stowed in the hold, this son of Asia bore a message to central Europe which would soon make every kernel of that seed-wheat to spring up over a renovated hemisphere, and to shake like Lebanon. His bonds never restrained his heroic zeal, but continued preaching the Gospel, and converted many of every rank, even some who were "saints of Cæsar's household." When set at liberty, he sailed to Syria, rapidly passed through Asia Minor, and returned through Macedonia and Corinth to Rome. Britain may have witnessed his devotion, and Spain caught the inspiration of his heavenly zeal. But his chief anxiety was centred in that great fountain of influence, Rome, where he had founded a church containing a "vast multitude," according to the expression of Tacitus, A.D. 65, and where, according to his own presentiment, he was martyred the same year.

The confessors who followed the apostles, like them won the approving testimony of conscience, and the profound esteem of all good men. Their blood was considered the seed of the church, which said concerning them: "To each victor is promised now the tree of life and exemption from the second death, now the hidden manna with the white stone, and an unknown name: now to be clothed in white, not to be blotted out of the book of life, and to be made a pillar in the temple of God, inscribed with the name of his God and Lord of the heavenly Jerusalem: and now to sit down with the Lord on his throne, once refused to the sons of Zebedee." About the beginning of the third century arose a discussion which throws light upon the spirit manifested by the martyr-victims of those days. Celsus, on the part of the heathen, reproached his opponents with the fortitude of Anaxarchus, who, when pounded in a mortar, exclaimed, "Pound the shell of Anaxarchus, himself you touch not." "What," he asks, "did your Deity say in his sufferings comparable to this?" Origen returned the appropriate answer, that a pious submission to God's will, or even a prayer, such as "if it be possible, let this cup pass from me," is more truly magnanimous than the affectation of insensibility, so lauded by stoical paganism. The martyr's surrender of his body to the executioner was esteemed an act of faith, a baptism unto Christ, and came to be regarded as a sacrament of certain efficacy, seeing that no subsequent fall could annul its power. "Be thou faithful unto death," was evermore whispered in the ear of the confessor, "and I will give thee a crown of life." Thus pacific and defenceless, the primitive church conquered the proud array of pagan and imperial power; and the doubting world, forced to admit a divine interposition in behalf of this new religion, beheld a testimony from heaven to its truth. Perhaps the strongest confidence in the resurrection, and the most energetic subscription to the declaration, "If our earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building of God," was expressed by Ignatius, who, knowing the danger often incurred in obtaining the remains of the martyrs, expressed a wish to be so entirely devoured by beasts, that no fragment of his body should be found.