Under Augustus the Roman empire was well nigh rounded off in extent, since the geographical situation, as we before observed, of all the countries bordering on the Mediterranean might be considered a sufficiently wide natural frontier. The counties on the coast of Africa were protected by the contiguous deserts; on the Northern side of the empire, which was more menaced by invasion, the strongly fortified borders of the Rhine and the Danube formed a secure barrier. Towards the eastern and Asiatic frontier, the Parthians were indeed a powerful and formidable enemy, but there was no probability they would ever seek, as the Persians had once done, to penetrate so far beyond their boundaries; while, on the other hand, the Romans had no real interest in extending their conquests further into that region, or into the interior parts of central Asia, as such a policy would only lead them further from the centre of their empire and their power, now unalterably fixed in Italy and the old, eternal city. The thoughts and feelings of all the better Romans were no longer turned on the aggrandizement of their empire, but solely and exclusively on a great internal regeneration of public morals, and as far as was practicable, of the state itself, according to those ideal conceptions which they formed of old Rome in her better and more prosperous days. These projects of social regeneration were nearly in the same spirit and of the same tendency as those which the better emperors of succeeding ages, a Trajan and a Marcus Aurelius actually attempted to accomplish. Others again were filled with apprehensions for the future; and well indeed might they entertain the most alarming presentiments; for when the licentiousness of public morals was growing to a more and more fearful height, and a succession of indolent emperors was hastening the downfall of the state, the strong fortifications of the Northern frontier could afford little protection, and the nations of the North must burst in without resistance upon the empire. This event did really occur, though at a much later period; but all that was to precede that event—the quarter whence the new principle would rise up in the world, that was to overcome Rome herself and regenerate mankind—all this was certainly not anticipated by any Roman of those times, however generous and exalted might be his sentiments, and profound and penetrative his understanding. Nay, when this phenomenon did actually appear, it was but too evident that they were at first unable to seize and comprehend its meaning and purport. And what was then that new power, which was to conquer, and did really conquer, the earthly conquerors of the world? The old universal empire of Persia, and the subsequent one of Macedon, had long since passed away, and disappeared from the face of the earth. The oppressive military despotism of Rome had to fear no rival that would at all equal her in power. The influence of the Greek Philosophy, which had previously sunk into great degeneracy, was completely debased under the yoke of Roman domination, and barely sufficed to adorn and dignify the Roman sway, still less to work a fundamental change and reform in the Roman government.
It was the divine power of Love, tried in sufferings, and sacrificing to high Love itself not only life, but every earthly desire; and from which proceeded the new words of a new life, a new light of moral and divine science, that was to unfold new views of the world, introduce a new organization of society, and give a new form to human existence. And such was that primitive energy of Christian love, which displayed itself in the internal harmony, and close union of the Christian church; in the rapid diffusion of its doctrines through all the countries and among all the nations of the then known world; in its courageous resistance to all the assaults of persecution; in the careful preservation of its purity from all alloy and corruption; in its firmer consolidation and more manifold development in words, and works and deeds; in writings and in life; that not many generations, and but a few centuries had passed away, before Christianity became a ruling power in the world—an indirect and spiritual power indeed, but more than any other active and influential.
A passage on Elias in the Old Testament, which we have already had occasion to cite, may be applied to the imperceptible beginnings of this great moral revolution, produced in the world by a new effort of God's power. When the prophet, from the bottom of his soul had sighed after death, and had journeyed for the space of forty days towards the holy mountain of Horeb, the splendour and omnipotence of the Deity were revealed to him, and passed before his mortal eyes. There came a great and strong wind, which overthrew the mountains and split the rocks; but, as the scripture saith, God was not in the wind. There came afterwards a violent earthquake with fire—but God was neither in the earthquake, nor in the fire. Now there arose the soft breath and gentle whistling of a tender air: in this, Elias recognized the immediate presence of his God, and in awe and reverence he veiled his face. Such was the origin of Christianity, as compared with the all-subduing and world-convulsing sway of the conquering nations of preceding ages.
In the last years of Augustus, the first deified Emperor—occurs the birth of our Saviour in the time of Tiberius, the foundation of the Christian religion;—and in the reign of Nero, the first perfectly authentic record of that great event in the Roman history. There is indeed an account which says that, previously, Tiberius, on the report of the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, had received information of the new religion, and had made a formal proposal to the Senate to place Christ among the Gods, according to the Roman custom, and to declare him worthy of divine honours. It is true indeed, that the single testimony of Tertullian, on which this account rests, is not of such weight and historical importance as not to be obnoxious to many serious doubts, which perhaps however, have been carried somewhat too far. It still remains a clear historical testimony on a matter of fact; and as long as this is susceptible of a natural explanation, it argues a perverse spirit of historical criticism, or rather a total absence of all criticism, to be ever suspecting fabrications, and supposititious writings. That an account of this great event might, nay must almost necessarily, have been transmitted to Rome by the Roman Procurator of the province of Judea, is proved by the narrative of Tacitus, who connects the name of this governor with the first mention of the Christians. Such an account may have been easily sent even by the Roman captains, who were in Palestine, and one of whom we know, as an eye-witness, gave such a memorable testimony in favour of the Son of God, who had died upon the cross; for, according to the general tradition of the church, this man afterwards became a Christian. There is again in the character of Tiberius nothing at all at variance with this account; for however dark, and mistrustful, and cruel, and corrupt might be the character of that Emperor, we cannot deny he was possessed of a powerful and profound understanding. He was by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions, nor indifferent on matters of religion; but he followed therein his own peculiar views and opinions; and hence it is quite natural that his attention should be easily drawn to any extraordinary religious event. He detested, and even persecuted the Egyptian idolatry, and the Jewish worship, and ordered that the sacerdotal robes and sacred vessels of their priests should be burned. He had a strong faith in destiny, was somewhat addicted to astrology, and dreaded signs in the heavens. If his hostility towards the Jews and his persecution of that nation, be alledged as an objection to the truth of this narrative, (as if it were absolutely necessary that he should have confounded the Christians with the Jews); we may reply that this is a purely arbitrary hypothesis, and that it is far more natural to conclude that, when Tiberius had received from Pilate, or other Roman captains, certain intelligence of the life and death of our Saviour, he was no doubt informed by these eye-witnesses of the hatred and persecution which our Saviour had sustained from the Jews. The single fact indeed, that Christianity was so much opposed to the Pagan worship and the political idolatry of the Romans—as for instance to the sacrifice before the image of the Emperor—was in all probability not stated nor clearly explained in this first account, composed by persons very little acquainted with the true nature of the new Revelation. Otherwise such an account would have produced on a man imbued with Roman prejudices no other impression but that of aversion and disgust. The idea and proposal itself of regarding an extraordinary man endowed with wonderful and divine power, at God and as worthy of divine honours, has nothing at all improbable in itself, or at all inconsistent with Roman rites and usages, of with Roman opinions respecting Gods and deified men. The only thing really improbable in the whole affair, is that the Senate of that time should have dared to oppose and contradict Tiberius in this matter. However, if the Senate, as we may easily imagine, were hostile to the proposal of Tiberius, it was easy for them to adopt some evasive form, and indirectly to impede and set aside this matter, which as it regarded old national rites, fell entirely within their jurisdiction. But this circumstance, as we said before, is the only thing which appears at all exaggerated in this account. It is easy to understand from this how the proposition of Tiberius, which was never carried into execution should have fallen into complete oblivion, and should never have come to the knowledge of Tacitus; as we may conclude, from his account of the Christians, that he would not otherwise have suffered this circumstance to pass unnoticed. Singular and remarkable as this fact may be, it is of no importance in itself; it forms only a single incident in the strange and contradictory impressions which the new religion produced on the minds of the Romans. A passage of Suetonius, in his history of Claudius, would show that the Christians were confounded with the Jews, for, speaking of that Emperor, he says, "he expelled the Jews from the Capital, for, at the instigation of Chrestus, they were ever exciting troubles in the state." Chrestus in the Greek pronunciation, has the same sound with Christus; and we may easily conceive that what the Christians said of their invisible Lord and Master, that he interdicted them such and such Pagan rites, may in a matter so totally strange and unintelligible to the Romans, have been easily misunderstood, as applying to a chief and party-leader actually in existence. In the same way, by the troubles spoken of in the passage above cited, may be understood the accustomed and just refusal of the Christians to comply with the illicit demands of the Pagans.
A fuller light is thrown on this subject by the narrative of Tacitus in his history of Nero; and, however much the Christian religion may be misrepresented by the Roman historian, his account has still a character thoroughly historical, and amidst its very misrepresentations, is perfectly intelligible, if we take care to distinguish the chief historical traits. When Nero, at the height of his crimes and presumption had set Rome on fire, in order to have a lively and dramatic spectacle of the burning of Troy, he afterwards strove to screen himself from the odium of this misdeed, and to throw the blame entirely upon the Christians, who must have been then tolerably numerous in Rome. Tacitus thinks they were not the authors of the conflagration laid to their charge; and his feelings revolt at the inhuman cruelties which Nero inflicted upon them; but, he adds, many horrible things were said of them, and that it was known in particular they were animated by sentiments of hatred towards the whole human race. That we are to understand by this hatred towards the human race nothing more than that rigid rejection by the Christians of all the idolatrous rites, maxims and doctrines of the Heathen world, is perfectly evident of itself. Among the horrible things, of which the Christians were accused, we are in all probability to understand the repasts of Thyestes, for their enemies make use of that very term in their accusations;—accusations which were received with eager credulity by a populace that held them in abhorrence. Although this charge was no doubt afterwards the effect of malicious calumny, and deliberate falsehood, yet it is very possible that a gross misconception may originally have given rise to it, and that this accusation, egregiously false as it was, proceeded from an obscure and confused knowledge of the mystery of the holy sacrifice, and of the reception of the Sacrament in that divine feast of love solemnized in the Christian assemblies.
Even in the official report, which the better and well-meaning younger Pliny transmitted to Trajan in the year 120, while he was governor of Pontus and Bithynia, we can clearly discern the embarrassment of the generous Roman, who was at a loss how to consider the new religion, so perfectly mysterious and totally inexplicable did it appear to him; and who in consequence was quite undetermined what he was to do, and how he was to treat the matter. He writes that, according to the confessions wrung from the Christians by torture, after the Roman custom, they were found to entertain an excessive, strange, heterogeneous, an very perverse, faith of superstition; but that in other respects they were people of irreproachable morals, and who on a certain day of the week, Sunday, assembled in the morning to sing the praises of their God Christ, and to engage themselves to the fulfilment of the most important precepts of virtue, and that they met again in the evening to enjoy a simple and blameless repast. He adds that their numbers had already increased to such an extent that the altars of Paganism were nearly abandoned; and that a great number of women, boys and children belonged to their sect. He is at a loss to know, with respect to the latter, whether he should make any difference in the degree of punishment which, it appears, they have inevitably incurred under the old Roman laws against all societies and fraternities not sanctioned by the state; and on this subject he demands further instructions from the emperor, in this memorable official letter, which is still extant, and contains the most ancient portrait of the Christians drawn by a Roman hand.
Thus then, in this period of the world, in this decisive crisis between ancient and modern times, in this great central point of history, stood two powers opposed to each other:—on one hand, we behold Tiberius, Caligula and Nero, the earthly gods, and absolute masters of the world, in all the pomp and splendor of ancient paganism—standing, as it were, on the very summit and verge of the old world, now tottering to its ruin:—and, on the other hand, we trace the obscure rise of an almost imperceptible point of Light, from which the whole modern world was to spring, and whose further progress and full development, through all succeeding ages, constitutes the true purport of modern history.