All this was simply useless extravagance, the wild freak of a madman, the whim of a childish tyrant who confounded arbitrary power and splendor with divinity. He did not know of any better way of proving himself to be godlike.
It is possible that some thought of all this blasphemous arrogance may have been in the Apostle Paul’s mind when, in 2 Thess. ii, 4, he pictures “the man of sin” to be revealed, as one “who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God or that is worshiped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God showing himself that he is God.”
In order to keep up his assumed character of a god, Caligula had to accomplish, of course, many mighty things. He completed the temple of Augustus at Rome. He enlarged the imperial residence on the Palatine with oriental extravagance, connecting by descending porticos the palace of Tiberius with the temple of Castor and Pollux. He projected, and perhaps commenced, the great Claudian aqueduct. He brought from Egypt and erected in the Vatican circus the immense granite obelisk, one hundred and thirty-two feet high, which now stands in front of St. Peter’s, not very far, indeed, from the locality where he placed it.
But Caligula was so jealous of other men that he caused many statues and monuments that had been erected by Augustus to be thrown down and so broken that the names could not be restored to the figures. He was so consumed with envy that he had a passion for destroying every well-earned reputation. He forbade the circulation of the writings of Virgil, of Livy, and of other famous authors whom Augustus had fostered, and of whom the people were proud. He even threatened to abolish the laws and make his own word and will the rule for mankind. No personal excellence could escape his erratic hostility.
It was inevitable that he should look with hatred upon the popularity of the distinguished Seneca. This writer and philosopher we have referred to as winning public approval in the days of Tiberius. He had become a great advocate and was beginning to express exalted opinions. Caius prided himself on his brilliant wit, of which, indeed, a few illustrations have come down to us; but he could not tolerate such a noble and talented man as Seneca. He was so displeased with him that he singled him out for immediate execution; but one of the emperor’s favorites whispered to him that he need not take the trouble to extinguish an expiring lamp, Seneca was in such poor health at the time. So Seneca escaped, but withdrew into obscurity for the rest of the reign of Caius and devoted himself to his studies and meditations. He abhorred the conduct of the emperor. He speaks of “wretches doomed to undergo stones, sword, fire, and Caius”; and described Caius as one whose “face was ghastly pale with a look of insanity, his eyes half hidden under a wrinkled brow; his ill-shaped head was partly bald, partly covered with dyed hair, his neck covered with bristles, his legs thin and his feet misshapen.” On the other hand Caius called Seneca’s writings “mere displays” and “sand without lime.”
This emperor spent fabulous sums on extraordinary entertainments. It was the custom of the times for the vulgar rich to lay out enormous amounts of money upon the decorations and luxurious provisions of their tables, and Caligula was not to be surpassed in this regard by any of them. Viands were set before his guests with fantastic display, chiefly on account of their rarity and costliness. The brains of peacocks and the tongues of nightingales and flamingoes, besides rare birds from distant regions, were only specimens of the extravagant dishes, while pearls dissolved by powerful acids placed in the wine seemed to give an additional relish to the foolish prodigality. He had the most richly furnished banquet-halls, the most elaborate furniture, and the most exquisite music that the empire could furnish.
He was fond of imposing military demonstrations. He celebrated with great pomp a barren victory over the Germans. He made ridiculous boasts over an invasion of Great Britain, an invasion that was abandoned not far from that country’s shores.
The people soon became very tired and disgusted with Caligula’s revels and dissipations. His extravagance, of course, required increased taxation, and his capricious cruelty put every man’s life in jeopardy. He seemed to delight in causing suffering. It is declared that he told his executioners to strike in such a manner that their victims might feel themselves dying, and that once, when a sufficient number of animals was wanting, he commanded some of the spectators in the amphitheater to be thrown to the wild beasts. His imagination seems to have had a tendency to dwell on cruel and grewsome thoughts, as the following quotation will show:
“One day at a public banquet, when the consuls were reclining by his side, he burst suddenly into a fit of laughter and, when they courteously inquired the cause of his mirth, astounded them by coolly replying that he was thinking how by one word he could cause the heads of both of them to roll on the floor. He amused himself with similar banter even with his wife Cæsonia, for whom he seems to have had a stronger feeling than for any of his former consorts. While fondling her neck, he is reported to have said, ‘Fair as it is, how easily I could sever it!’ He did not content himself with such fancies. Too often they were followed by actual cruelty and bloodshed, so that few could laugh at his joking. There was no telling how he would shock the public next.”
“This prince,” said Seneca, “only lived to show what the greatest vices could do in the circumstances of the highest fortune.”