But so great were the numbers that fled from the city, that because the lawsuits and property of many persons were going to ruin, the prætors, Titius Mænius and Marcus Licinius were obliged, under the direction of the senate, to adjourn their courts for thirty days until the inquiries should be finished by the consuls. The same deserted state of the law courts, since the persons against whom charges were brought did not appear to answer, nor could be found in Rome, necessitated the consuls to make a circuit of the country towns, and there to make their inquisitions and hold the trials. Those who, as it appeared, had been only initiated, and had made after the priest, and in the most solemn form, the prescribed imprecations, in which the accursed conspiracy for the perpetration of every crime and lust was contained, but who had not themselves committed, or compelled others to commit, any of those acts to which they were bound by the oath—all such they left in prison. But those who had forcibly committed personal defilements or murders, or were stained with the guilt of false evidence, counterfeit seals, forged wills, or other frauds, all these they punished with death. A greater number were executed than thrown into prison; indeed the multitude of men and women who suffered in both ways, was very considerable. The consuls delivered the women who were condemned to their relations, or to those under whose guardianship they were, that they might inflict the punishment in private; but if there did not appear any proper person of the kind to execute the sentence, the punishment was inflicted in public. A charge was then given to demolish all the places where the Bacchanalians had held their meetings; first, in Rome, and then throughout all Italy; excepting those wherein should be found some ancient altar, or consecrated statue. With regard to the future, the senate passed a decree, "that no Bacchanalian rites should be celebrated in Rome or in Italy:" and ordering that, "in case any person should believe some such kind of worship incumbent upon him, and necessary; and that he could not, without offence to religion, and incurring guilt, omit it, he should represent this to the city prætor, and the prætor should lay the business before the senate. If permission were granted by the senate, when not less than one hundred members were present, then he might perform those rites, provided that no more than five persons should be present at the sacrifice, and that they should have no common stock of money, nor any president of the ceremonies, nor priest."
Another decree connected with this was then made, on a motion of the consul, Quintus Marcius, that "the business respecting the persons who had served the consuls as informers should be proposed to the senate in its original form, when Spurius Postumius should have finished his inquiries, and returned to Rome." They voted that Minus Cerrinius, the Campanian, should be sent to Ardea, to be kept in custody there; and that a caution should be given to the magistrates of that city, to guard him with more than ordinary care, so as to prevent not only his escaping, but his having an opportunity of committing suicide.
Spurius Postumius some time after came to Rome and on his proposing the question, concerning the reward to be given to Publius Æbutius and Hispala Fecenia, because the Bacchanalian ceremonies were discovered by their exertions, the senate passed a vote, that "the city quæstors should give to each of them, out of the public treasury, one hundred thousand asses; and that the consuls should desire the plebeian tribunes to propose to the commons as soon as convenient, that the campaigns of Publius Æbutius should be considered as served, that he should not become a soldier against his wishes, nor should any censor assign him a horse at the public charge." They voted also, that "Hispala Fecenia should enjoy the privileges of alienating her property by gift or deed; of marrying out of her rank, and of choosing a guardian, as if a husband had conferred them by will; that she should be at liberty to wed a man of honorable birth, and that there should be no disgrace or ignominy to him who should marry her; and that the consuls and prætors then in office, and their successors, should take care that no injury should be offered to that woman, and that she might live in safety. That the senate wishes, and thought proper, that all these things should be so ordered."—All these particulars were proposed to the commons, and executed, according to the vote of the senate; and full permission was given to the consuls to determine respecting the impunity and rewards of the other informers.[178]
The bacchanalian orgies were first suppressed nearly two hundred years before Christ. The above extract from Livy reminds us that at that time the Romans were still strong and virtuous, and that a proposal of their Consul to eradicate a vicious evil that threatened the existence of both domestic life and the State, met with warm approval and hearty support from both the Senate and the people. But the insidious infection was never completely eradicated; and the work of the "Greek from Etruria" bore bitter fruit in the centuries that followed. And when we consider that not only bacchanalian orgies, but Greek literature, painting, sculpture, tragedy and comedy, were the chief causes of the pollution of Roman morals and the destruction of the Roman State, should we be surprised that Juvenal, in an outburst of patriotic wrath, should have declaimed against "a Grecian capital in Italy";[179] and that he should have hurled withering scorn at
The flattering, cringing, treacherous, artful race,
Of fluent tongue and never-blushing face,
A Protean tribe, one knows not what to call,
That shifts to every form, and shines in all.
And, when we consider the state of the Roman world at the time of Christ, should we be surprised that St. Paul should have described Romans as "Being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful"?[180]
Suffice it to say, in closing the chapter on Græco-Roman paganism, that, at the beginning of the Christian era, the Roman empire had reached the limit of physical expansion. Roman military glory had culminated in the sublime achievements of Pompey and of Cæsar. Mountains, seas, and deserts, beyond which all was barbarous and desolate, were the natural barriers of Roman dominion. Roman arms could go no farther; and Roman ambition could be no longer gratified by conquest. The Roman religion had fallen into decay and contempt; and the Roman conscience was paralyzed and benumbed. Disgusted with this world, the average Roman did not believe in any other, and was utterly without hope of future happiness. A gloomy despondency filled the hearts of men and drove them into black despair. When approaching death, they wore no look of triumph, expressed no belief in immortality, but simply requested of those whom they were leaving behind, to scatter flowers on their graves, or to bewail their early end. An epigram of the Anthology is this: "Let us drink and be merry; for we shall have no more of kissing and dancing in the kingdom of Proserpine: soon shall we fall asleep to wake no more." The same sentiments are expressed in epitaphs on Roman sepulchral monuments of the period. One of them reads thus: "What I have eaten and drunk, that I take with me; what I have left behind me, that have I forfeited." This is the language of another: "Reader, enjoy thy life; for after death there is neither laughter nor play, nor any kind of enjoyment." Still another: "Friend, I advise, mix thee a goblet of wine, and drink, crowning thy head with flowers. Earth and fire consume all that remains after death." And, finally, one of them assures us that Greek mythology is false: "Pilgrim, stay thee, listen and learn. In Hades there is no ferryboat, nor ferryman Charon; no Æacus or Cerberus;—once dead, and we are all alike."[181]
Matthew Arnold has very graphically described the disgusting, sickening, overwhelming despair of the Roman people at the birth of Christ.
Ah! carry back thy ken,
What, some two thousand years! Survey
The world as it was then.
Like ours it looked, in outward air,
Its head was clear and true;
Sumptuous its clothing, rich its fare;
No pause its action knew.