Nearly a century after the death of Tiberius, Apuleius, the compiler and in part author of the famous Golden Ass, was accused before a Roman Proconsul of magic, and of having bewitched the somewhat elderly lady who had become his wife; his defence is still extant. There are many interesting points in it, not the least interesting being the inclusion of Moses in a list of eminent magicians; but the most striking features of the apology are the contemptuous way in which Apuleius deals with the current superstitions as to magic, and the indications that he was pursuing research on lines which would now be recognized as scientific—“You say I use mirrors; certainly I do; so did Archimedes. I am studying their influence on light and heat. You say that I have collected strange fishes; yes, I am interested in comparing the structure of their skeletons.” It is strange how old are modern superstitions. Among the charges against Apuleius was one of hypnotism, based upon the fact that a boy had been seen to fall senseless in his presence. Apuleius had no difficulty in proving that the boy was an epileptic. Hypnotism is still uncanny to the non-scientific world.
Tiberius could not study astronomy or any other branch of science in his own day without being suspected of magic and divination; the things were almost mutually convertible terms, but the ancients had made considerable advances in the direction of the applied sciences, and had found out many working hypotheses, which were strictly scientific so far as the then sources of information allowed, even though further researches have proved them to be untenable. We should do injustice to Tiberius if we believed, as his contemporaries were ready to believe, that he spent his time at Rhodes in casting the horoscopes of himself and all other persons in whose destiny he had reason to be interested; but at the same time we must admit that the dividing line between science and pure charlatanry scarcely existed in those days, and that men such as Simon Magus and Elymas the Sorcerer frequently mistook the nature of their own proficiencies. Along with much sound astronomical knowledge, and with many equally sound results of experimental research, the East sent through various channels to the West a strange farrago of religion and so-called magical arts in which the esoteric learning of the Magicians, the Chaldeans, the Jews, the Greeks, the Egyptians, and even the Brahmins, was monstrously mixed up with popular superstitions and wilful imposture. The strong common sense which Tiberius exhibited in his public actions at a later time forbids us to believe that he lost his head at this period in hazardous and illusory speculations. We know that he took his place as an ordinary citizen of a free Greek town, and joined in the debates of its assembly, that he attended the lectures of the professors, and that his chosen associate was Thrasyllus, “a mathematician.” There is a pleasant story to the effect that Tiberius once went to a schoolmaster at Rhodes who called himself Diogenes, and was used to lecture on Sabbath days, asking for the honour of a special audience. Diogenes did not even admit him, but sent a verbal message by a dirty little slave boy, bidding him come back on the seventh day. Tiberius took no notice of the rudeness at the time, but when, after he had become Emperor, he was told that Diogenes was waiting outside his door at Rome in order to convey his congratulations, he sent out to tell him to come back in seven years.
For some time Tiberius lived contentedly in his retreat; he was visited by all men of any distinction, who were passing on their way between Rome and the East; he maintained a friendly correspondence with Augustus, and doubtless concluded that he was at liberty to do what Horace had so repeatedly urged upon his friends, “to live to himself.” But this life of moral introspection and scientific investigation was not allowed to last; Tiberius was rudely waked out of his dream, and learned that men who have once held a great position in the world cannot abdicate. Sinister influences were at work; not only did his own life seem to be in danger, but there were signs that the government of Augustus was itself in peril.
VIII
The Return of Tiberius
During the first five years of his residence at Rhodes, Tiberius, though he abstained from public business, was still the second person in the Empire, and still protected by the awe-inspiring atmosphere which hung round a Roman Tribune. He was, indeed, obliged to reside in the interior of the island in order to avoid the interruption caused by throngs of unwelcome visitors, who were anxious to pay their court to the great personage. Suetonius has two stories of his residence at Rhodes, which show him in no unamiable light. Tiberius once, in drawing up his programme for the day, had happened to say that he proposed to visit all the sick persons in the city. Zealous attendants immediately went out, and ordered all the invalids of the town to be taken into a public portico, and arranged according to the nature of their maladies. Tiberius was taken by surprise and considerably embarrassed, but recovered himself, spoke to each one, and apologized for the mistake individually, even to the humblest. On one occasion only he used his official position; when he was attending a disputation at the University the wrangling one day became so fierce that a heated professor made a violent personal attack upon Tiberius, as unfairly supporting his opponent. Tiberius quietly withdrew, and returned in official splendour with his train, summoned the intemperate professor in due legal form, and sent him to prison to meditate upon the enormity of provoking a breach of the Roman peace.
At the end of the five years Tiberius might well think that he could return to Rome without being suspected of a wish to exercise political influence, so plainly had he shown his indifference to public life. He had left his son at Rome, and there were others to whom he was attached; there were the three children of his brother Drusus, with their charming mother Antonia; and in spite of their awkward mutual relations, he had a genuine affection for Augustus. The family entanglements had been straightened out; Julia was in exile; the young Cæsars were beginning to take their part in public affairs. Surely their stepfather could live in dignified retirement at Rome, ready to advise and help, when counsel and assistance were demanded of him, but otherwise unmolested and unobserved.
This, however, was not to be. Augustus himself had acquiesced in the departure of Tiberius, if not before, certainly after the revelation of the intemperance of Julia, and was not improbably touched by the consideration which Tiberius had shown for his personal difficulties in the matter. But Livia had been bitterly disappointed; all her schemes had come to nothing just at the moment when the victory seemed to have been won, and her son had been declared heir-apparent, as far as the constitutional forms of Rome permitted. Consequently when Tiberius wrote, expressing an intention of returning to Rome and his wish to see his relatives, further declaring his determination to acquiesce in whatever arrangements Augustus might be disposed to make for the advancement of the young Cæsars, and pointing to his voluntary retirement as irrefutable evidence of the fact that he wished to stand out of their way, he received an exceedingly unamiable answer, and was told that he need not concern himself about the affairs of relatives, whom he had been so very ready to abandon. We are not told whether this letter was written by Livia or by Augustus; but it was surely written at the instance of Livia. No man was more willing to forgive and to forget than the Emperor; his whole life had been a record of successful conciliation of declared enemies; both by policy and inclination he was averse to the maintenance of personal feuds. Livia, too, may have seen in the stiffness of Tiberius a reason for advancing the young Cæsars, over whom, as more pliable, she hoped to secure influence.
This letter changed the position of Tiberius. His retirement was no longer voluntary; he had become an exile, and the difficulties of his situation were only slightly modified by the concession of “a free legation,” a nominal office frequently bestowed upon men of wealth and distinction, who wished to travel with the advantages attached to an official position. Tiberius, in fact, had to learn that there are responsibilities and positions which render abdication impossible; that having once been acting Commander-in-Chief and Prime Minister, he must always be a political personage, a force to be reckoned with; and if this fact was not apparent to him, it was very apparent to the advisers of the young Cæsars, and the worshippers of the rising sun.
During the absence of Tiberius these young men had been carefully put through the training, which had been successful in the case of the stepsons of Augustus. Caius, the elder, was now nineteen years of age, Lucius two or three years younger; there was a third brother, Agrippa, born after his father’s death, and still a child, showing signs of intractability. Like Tiberius and Drusus, they were sent to learn the organization of the Empire and the administration of the Roman Legions. Lucius went to Gaul, on his way to Spain; Caius was sent to the East, and like Tiberius was entrusted with the management of the difficult concerns of the Parthian frontier; he was provided with an adviser in the person of Marcus Lollius.