| CRISTO RAUL.ORG | 
|  | READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |  | 
|  |  | 
|  | OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS :THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE FOUNDER OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE
           CHAPTER XIV. 
             
             Let the sound of those he fought
            for,
             And the feet of those he wrought
            for,
             Echo round his bones for evermore.
             
             The public and private troubles mentioned in the last
            chapter did not break the spirit or paralyse the energies of the aged Emperor, or prevent him from taking a strenuous part in the
            administration of the Empire. The last eight years of his life were full of
            stir and movement, though our meagre authorities give us few details. He
            actively supported the campaigns of Tiberius and Germanicus; he was introducing
            reforms in Gaul; he was pushing on improvements in the East, and founding a
            series of colonies in Pisidia as a defence against the predatory mountain
            tribes; he was directing a census of the whole Empire; he was emending his
            marriage laws by the farther enactments contained in the lex Papia Poppaea, which he supported by
            energetic speeches; he was elaborating a great financial scheme; he was
            personally attending to the embankment of the Tiber; he was reforming the city
            police and fire brigades; and when the Varian disaster occurred we have seen
            with what energy he acted, how he enforced the law of military service and
            despatched reinforcements to the Rhine, while he cleared the city of dangerous
            elements and provided against possible movements in the provinces. Though now
            seventy-two years old he shewed no sign of senility in heart; and as it was
            said that at every stage of his life he had the beauty
            appropriate to it, so in spirit, courage, and prudence he seems always to have
            answered to any strain to which he was submitted.
             To understand the financial changes of these years it
            is necessary to recall a few broad facts as to the revenue of the Empire. It
            arose from (1) Italy, (2) the provinces. In Italy the sources of revenue were
            the customs (portoria), the rent of public land, the vicesima or 5 per cent, on the value of manumitted slaves.
            From the time that it became the habit to pay the soldiers, a tributum or
            property tax had been raised, at first as a temporary measure, or even as a
            loan, but gradually as a regular thing. Since the Macedonian wars, however, BC167,
            this tributum had not been levied: the additional wealth acquired by the new conquests being
            sufficient. It does not appear that the tributum was abolished by law, and indeed for a short time
            it was reimposed by the Triumvirs, though only as an extraordinary tax (temerarium). After the Social war of BC89 the Italians became full citizens and shared this
            exemption.
             The second and most important source of revenue were
            the provinces. There were royalties on mines, customs, rent of public land, and
            other sources of profit to the government; but also every province paid a stipendium—a certain sum of money—to the Roman
            treasury. The manner in which it was paid—whether in
            money or produce, or a multure of the two—differed in
            different provinces, as also did the mode of its assessment and collection; but
            the broad fact was that each province had to furnish a sum of money, and that
            owners of property in a province were liable to a tributum or tax.
             In the time of Augustus there was no great change made
            in the nature or incidence of this taxation; but the management of the treasury
            itself was revolutionised. In the first place, the aerarium instead of being under the care of the yearly elected
            quaestors, who issued money on the order of Senate or magistrates, was put
            under praefecti appointed by the Emperor, and though the Senate still
            had a nominal control over it, it was really under his power. In the next
            place, a new aerarium was formed,
            afterwards called the fiscus, into
            which was paid the revenues of the imperial provinces. This was entirely under
            the Emperor, and the tendency was in time to have
            every extraordinary revenue, such as confiscations, lapsed legacies (caduca), and
            the like, paid into it. Besides this there was the patrimonium Caesarum, the private property of the Emperor in virtue of his office. To this belonged the whole
            revenues of Egypt and the Thracian Chersonese, and other large estates. When
            Augustus talks of his having supplemented the treasury or made distributions to
            the people, it is often from this fund that he drew, though he had besides
            large personal property (res familiaris), which he employed at times for the same
            purpose.
             Of course from the revenue of the provinces had to
            be deducted the cost of their administration and defence. Provinces, therefore,
            which needed large forces and constant defence from surrounding barbarians did
            not pay. Cicero, indeed, asserts that in his time none of the provinces except
            Asia paid for their expenses. This probably is an exaggeration, but there is no
            doubt that the loss on some had to be put against the gain on others, and that
            the balance of the yearly budget was not always on the right side, as, at a later date, we know that Vespasian said that the
            treasury wanted four hundred million sesterces to be solvent. The outbreak of
            the German wars in A.D. 4, and the large forces which it had long been
            necessary to keep upon the Rhine had caused, if not a deficit, at any rate the
            near prospect of one. It was just such a crisis as in old times would have
            justified the levying of a tributum as a special war tax. There were, however, two
            reasons against Augustus doing this. In the first place, such a tributum would be
            temporary, and he wanted a permanency; and, in the second place, the citizens
            had come to view freedom from the tributum as their special privilege, differentiating Italy
            from the subject provinces, and marking them out as a governing body. True to
            his policy of avoiding offensive names, while at the same time getting what he
            wanted, Augustus decided against the tributum. What he
            did was to create a new department, an army-pay treasury (res militare), with two praefects of
            praetorian rank. The money in this treasury was to be devoted to the pay and
            pensions of the soldiers. He started it with a gift in his own name and that of
            Tiberius of 170,000,000 sesterces, and arranged that
            the tax which he had contrived soon after the end of the civil wars, the 1 per
            cent, on goods sold at auctions or by contract, should be paid into it. But
            this was not sufficient for the purpose, and he had to look round for other
            means of raising revenue. He did therefore what a late Chancellor of the
            Exchequer did for us—he imposed death duties: 5 per cent, on all legacies
            except those from the nearest relatives. This avoided the offensiveness of depriving
            the people of Italy of a valued privilege, while it in fact brought them
            financially almost in a line with the provinces. For those who paid tributum did not
            pay vicesima, and vice versa. Still the tax offended a powerful class and met with
            much resistance. The practice of leaving large legacies to friends, as an
            acknowledgment of services rendered, was common in Italy, and the tax therefore
            fell heavily upon the rich. In A.D. 13 a determined move was made in the Senate
            to obtain its abolition. Augustus sent a written communication to the Senate,
            pointing out that the money was necessary, but asking them to contrive some
            other method of raising it. The Senators declined to formulate any plan, and
            only answered that they were ready to submit to anything else. Thereupon Augustus proposed a tributum or tax on land and
            houses. Confronted with this alternative the Senate at once withdrew from
            opposition. It was a case of financial necessity, and it must not be supposed
            that Augustus wished to lower the prestige of Italy or the value of the
            citizenship. That was one of the points in which he reversed the policy of
            Iulius, who had been lavish in bestowing the citizenship, and seems to have had
            visions of a uniform Empire united in privilege as in government. Augustus, on
            the other hand, was even ultra-conservative and ultra-Roman in this respect. He
            made constant difficulties about granting the citizenship. In answer to
            Tiberius, who begged it for some favourite Greek, he insisted upon only
            granting it if the man appeared personally and convinced him of the soundness
            of his claim. Even Livia met with a refusal in behalf
            of some Gaul. The Emperor offered to grant the man
            immunity from tribute, saying that he cared less about a loss to his treasury
            than for vulgarising the citizenship.
             Though Augustus showed in this transaction all his old
            tact and statesmanship with no failure either in determination or power of finesse, yet he was growing visibly
            feebler in body. He gave up attending social functions and it was too much for
            him to appear any longer at meetings of the Senate. Accordingly, instead of the
            half-yearly committee of twenty-five members who used to be appointed to
            prepare measures for the House, a sort of inner cabinet of twenty members
            appointed for a year—with any members of his family whom he chose—met at his
            house and often round the couch on which he was reclining, and their decisions
            were given the force of a Senatus-consultum. His interest, however, in every detail was as keen as ever. For instance, we
            have a letter from him to Livia, written at the end of A.D. 11, as to the
            advisability of allowing Claudius (the future Emperor) to appear in Rome during
            the ceremonies connected with the consulship of his brother Germanicus.
            Claudius (now twenty-one) was reported to be deformed and half-witted, and his
            mother Antonia herself described him as scarcely human (monstrum hominis). The letter is worth
            reading, partly because it is the only complete one (at any rate, of any
            length) which we possess, and partly because it illustrates the care which
            Augustus took to keep up the prestige of the imperial family, to avoid, above
            all things, incurring popular ridicule, and his attention to minute details :—
             “I have consulted with Tiberius, as you desired me to
            do, my dear Livia, as to what is to be done about your grandson (Claudius)
            Tiberius. We entirely agree in thinking that we must settle once for all what
            line we are to take in regard to him. For if he is
            sound and, to use a common expression, has all his wits about him, what
            possible reason can there be for our doubting that he ought to be promoted
            through the same grades and steps as his brother? But if we find that he is
            deficient, and so deranged in mind and body as to be unfit for society, we must
            not give people accustomed to scoff and sneer at such things a handle for
            casting ridicule both on him and on us. The fact is that we shall always be in
            a state of agitation if we stop to consider every detail as it occurs, without
            having made up our minds whether to think him capable of holding offices or
            not. On the present occasion, however, in regard to the point on which you consult me, I do not object to his having charge of the
            triclinium of the priests at the games of Mars if he will submit to receive
            instructions from his relative, the son of Silanus,
            to prevent bis doing anything to make people stare or laugh. We agree that he
            is not to be in the imperial box at the Circus. For he will be in full view of
            everybody and be conspicuous. We agree that he is not to go to the Alban Mount
            or to be in Rome on the days of the Latin festival. For if he is good enough to
            be in his brother's train to the mountain, why should he not be honorary city
            prefect? Those are the decisions at which we arrived, my dear Livia, and we
            wish them to be settled once for all to prevent our wavering between hope and
            fear. You are at liberty, if you choose, to give Antonia this part of my letter
            to read.”
             Perhaps the voice is the voice of Tiberius, but the
            courtesy and well-bred style are all Augustus's. By this time the influence of
            Tiberius was well established, and Augustus treats him as a successor who has a
            right to be consulted on all family matters and important State affairs. Since
            his return from Rhodes Tiberius had done eminent service to the State both on
            the Rhine and in Illyricum. In appointing Varus to Germany Augustus had made a
            mistake which he seldom committed. He had nearly always picked good men, but P. Quintilius Varus had not only been extortionate in
            his former province, but was neither energetic nor
            prudent; and his experience among the unwarlike inhabitants of Syria was not a
            good preparation for dealing with the brave and warlike Germans. Tiberius knew
            him well, having been his colleague in the consulship of BC13, and would
            certainly not have appointed him. It was to Tiberius that the Emperor then turned to retrieve the disaster and confront
            the almost more serious dangers in Illyricum. And if he found him trustworthy
            in the field, this letter shows how much confidence he felt in him at home. It
            was a common report that Augustus knew and disliked his character. The lackeys
            of the palace gave out that he had on one occasion exclaimed, “Unhappy people
            of Rome who will some day be the victims of those
            slow grinders!”. And in a speech to the Senate some expressions used by him
            were taken to convey an apology for his reserved and sullen manners, and an
            acknowledgment, therefore, of his mistrust or dislike. But it is abundantly
            plain that in these last years he not only trusted his military abilities, but felt a sincere affection for himself. In
            earlier times, before the retreat to Rhodes, the short notes written, to him
            (parts of which are preserved by Suetonius) are playful and intimate; and
            though he was vexed at his retirement and answered a suggestion of return by a
            message bidding him “dismiss all concern for his relatives, whom he had
            abandoned with such excessive eagerness,” yet the fragments preserved of the
            Emperor’s letters to him in these later times breathe not only admiration, but
            warm affection. “Goodbye, Tiberius, most delightful of men! Success to you in
            the field, you who serve the Muses as well as me! Most delightful of men, and,
            as I hope to be happy, bravest of heroes and steadiest of generals!”. And again:
            “How splendidly managed are your summer quarter! I am decidedly of opinion
            that, in the face of so many untoward circumstances and such demoralisation of
            the troops, no one could have borne himself with greater prudence than you are
            doing! The officers now at Rome who have served with you all confess that the
            verse might have been written for you, ‘One man by vigilance restored the
            State'.” Once more: “Whenever anything occurs that calls for more than usually
            earnest thought or that stirs my spleen, what I miss most, by heaven, is my
            dear Tiberius, and that passage of Homer always occurs to me—
             “If he but follow, e’en from burning fire
             We both shall back return, so wise is he!’ ”
             And in the midst of his laborious campaign the Emperor
            writes to him anxiously: “When I hear or read that you are worn out by the
            protracted nature of your labours, heaven confound me if I do not shudder in
            every limb; and I beseech you to spare yourself, lest if we hear of your being
            ill your mother and I should expire and the Roman people run the risk of losing
            their empire. If doesn’t matter a bit whether I am well or not as long as you are not well. I pray the gods to preserve you
            to us and to suffer you to be well now and always, unless they abhor the Roman
            people.”
             These letters seem sufficiently to refute the idle
            stories of the gene that his presence
            was to Augustus, of his being a wet blanket to cheerful conversation, and a
            makeshift with which the Emperor was forced to put up
            in default of better heirs. Nor did Tiberius fall short in respect and loyal
            service. After his adoption in A.D.4, he immediately accepted the position of a
            son under the patria potestas, abstained from manumissions and other acts of a man who was sui iuris, and
            apparently transferred his residence to the palace, and seems really to have
            taken the burden from shoulders no longer string enough to bear it.
             For now the end was near,
            portended as the pious or credulous believed by many omens. There was an
            eclipse of the sun, and various fiery meteors in the sky. On one of his statues
            the letter C of Caesar was melted by lightning, and the augurs
            prophesied, or afterwards invented the prediction, that he would die within a
            hundred days and join the gods—eesar being good
            Etruscan for “divinities.” He himself seems to have been made somewhat nervous
            by certain accidents that might be twisted into omens. The early part of A.D. 14
            was taken up with the usual legal business, but also with the Census, which he
            held this year in virtue of his consular power and with Tiberius as his
            colleague. The organisation of the city into vici probably made the actual clerical work easy and rapid, but
            when that was overcame the ceremony of closing the lustrum”, and the offering
            of solemn sacrifice and prayer. This took place in the Campus Martius, and
            large crowds assembled to witness it. But the Emperor, uneasy at something
            which he thought ominous, or perhaps really feeling unwell, would not read the
            solemn vows, which according to custom had been written out and were now put
            into his hands. He said that he should not live to fulfil them and handed them
            over to Tiberius to read. After this ceremony was over, Augustus was anxious to
            get away from Rome and take his usual yachting tour along the Latin and
            Campanian coast. On this occasion he had the farther object of accompanying
            Tiberius as far as Beneventum on the Appian road, on his way to Brindisi and Illyricum, where
            some difficulties resulting from the recent war required his presence and
            authority. But various legal causes awaiting decision detained the Emperor in the city. He was restive and impatient at the
            delay, and petulantly exclaimed that “if they let everything stop them he should never be at Rome again.” At length, however,
            he set out, accompanied by Livia and Tiberius and a numerous court. They
            reached the coast at Astura, in the delta of a river
            of the same name, which falls into the sea at the southern point of the bay of Antium. It was a quiet place though there were seaside
            villas near, and there Cicero had spent the months of
            his mourning for Tullia, finding consolation in the
            solitude of the woods which skirt the side of the stream. At Astura the party embarked, but owing to the state of the wind they did so by night. A chill then caught
            brought on diarrhoea, and laid the foundation of his
            fatal illness. Nevertheless the voyage along the
            Campanian coast tad the adjacent islands was continued till they reached Capreae. It was on this voyage that, happening to touch at Puteoli, he was so much delighted and cheered by the thanks
            offered him by the crew of an Alexandrian corn-ship for his safeguarding of the
            seas. At Capreae he seems to have stayed some time,
            amusing himself by watching the young athletes training for the Greek game at
            Naples—the only town in Italy except Rhegium which at
            this time retained any trace of Hellenic customs and life. He gave parties,
            also, at which he asked his Roman guests to dress in Greek fashion and speak
            Greek, and the Greeks to use Roman dress and speak Latin. There was the usual
            distribution of presents, and on one occasion he gave a banquet to the athletes
            in training, and watched them after dinner pelting
            each other with apples and other parts of the dessert. It was a custom, more
            honoured in the breach than in the observance, with which he was familiar. He
            once entertained a certain Curtius, who prided
            himself on his taste in cookery, and who thought a fat thrush that had been put
            before him was ill-done. “May I despatch it?  he said to the Emperor. “Of course,” was the reply;
            upon which he threw it out of the window. On this occasion the aged Emperor,
            feeling, we may suppose, somewhat better and glad to be away from the cares of
            State, enjoyed this curious horse-play. He was also
            particularly cheerful during these days at Capreae,
            pleasing himself with inventing Greek verses and then defying one of Tiberius’
            favourite astrologers to name the play from which they came.
             Before long, however, he crossed to Naples, with his
            illness still upon him, but with alternate rallies and relapses. At Naples he
            had to sit through some long gymnastic contests that were held every fifth year
            in his honour. Such a function in an August day at Naples would have been
            trying to the most vigorous and healthy, but for a man in his seventy-sixth
            year, and suffering from such a complaint, it must have been deadly. He
            preferred, however, not to disappoint people eager to show him honour. He then
            fulfilled his purpose of accompanying Tiberius to Beneventum, and having taken
            leave of him there turned back towards Naples. But he was never to reach it. At
            Nola, about eighteen English miles short of that town, his illness became so
            acute that he was obliged to stop at the villa there in which his father had
            died seventy-two years before. Messengers were hastily sent to recall Tiberius.
            With him the dying man had a long private conversation, in which he seems to
            have imparted to him his wishes and counsels as to the government; and perhaps
            it was now that he pointed out the three nobles who were possible candidates
            for the succession—“Marcus Lepidus, who was fit for it, but would not care to
            take it; Asinius Gallus, who would desire it, but was
            unfit; and L. Arruntius, who was not unfit for it and
            would have the courage to seize it if opportunity offered.” But this conference
            over he busied himself with no other affairs of State. He seemed to acquiesce
            in the fact that he had done with the world, its vexations and problems. On the
            last day of his life, the 19th of August (his lucky month!) the only question
            which he continually repeated was whether his situation was causing any
            commotion out of doors. Then he asked for a mirror and directed his attendants
            to arrange his hair and close his already relaxing jaws, that he might not
            shock beholders by the ghastliness of his appearance. Then his friends were
            admitted to say goodbye. With a pathetic mixture of
            playfulness and sadness he asked them whether “they thought that he had played
            life’s farce fairly well?” quoting a common tag at the end of plays:—
             “If aught of good our sport had, clap your hands,
             And send us, gentles all, with joy away.”
             These being dismissed, he turned to Livia and asked
            for news of one of her granddaughters who was ill; but even as he spoke he felt
            the end was coming—“Livia, don't forget our wedded
            life, goodbye”. And as he tried to kiss her lips he fell back dead".
             It was a rapid and painless end, for which he had so
            often hoped, an euthanasia that he used to pray for, for himself and his friends. Up to the last his mind
            had been clear, with only the slightest occasional wandering. And so after long years of work and struggle, of mixed evil and
            flood, of stern cruelties and beneficent exertion, of desperate dangers and
            well-earned honours, the great Emperor as he lay dying looked into the eyes
            which he had loved best in the world.
             The body was borne to Rome by the municipal
            magistrates of the several towns along the road, the cortége always moving by night because of the heat, and the bier being
            deposited in the court-house of each town till it
            reached Bovillae, twelve miles from Rome. There a
            procession of Roman knights took it in charge, having obtained that honour from
            the consuls, conducted it to Rome, and deposited it in the vestibule of his own
            house on the Palatine.
             With not unnatural or unpardonable emotion some
            extravagant proposals were made in the Senate as to funeral honours and general
            mourning. But Tiberius disliked such excesses, and the funeral though stately
            was simple. The bier was carried on the shoulders of Senators to the Campus.
            Twice the cortège stopped, first at
            the Rostra, where Drusus, the son of Tiberius, delivered a funeral oration (laudatio), and again at the front of the temple of Iulius, where Tiberius himself read a
            panegyric. Drusus had dwelt chiefly on his private Virtues, Tiberius confined
            himself to his public work. He began with a reference to his youthful services
            to the state immediately after the death of Caesar; his success in putting an
            end to the civil wars, and his clemency after them. He spoke of the skill with
            which, while splendidly rewarding his ministers, he yet prevented them from
            gaining a power detrimental to the state; of his disinterested and
            constitutional conduct when, having everything in his hands, he yet shared the
            power with the people and Senate; of his unselfishness in the division of the
            provinces in taking the difficult ones upon himself; of his equity in leaving
            Senate and constitution independent; of his economy and liberality; of the good
            Order which he kept and the wholesome laws which he carried; of his sympathy
            with the tastes and enjoyments of the people; of his hatred of flattery and
            tolerance of free speech. The address was read and had been carefully composed.
            There is not much fervour or eloquence in it, but it wilfully put the people
            which Augustus would himself have put, and indeed had put in that apologia pro vita sua which we know from the inscription at Ancyra.
             The speeches over, the cortège moved on to the Campus Martins, where the body was burnt on
            the pyre prepared for it, and the ashes ceremoniously collected by eminent
            equites, who according to custom wore only their tunics, without the toga,
            ungirdled, and with bare feet. The urn was then deposited in the Mausoleum
            which Augustus had himself erected in B.C. 28 on the Campus close to the
            curving river-bank, which had already received the
            ashes of his nephew Marcellus, of his sister Octavia, of his two
            grandsons, and of his great friend and minister Agrippa, but was sternly closed
            by his will to his erring daughter and granddaughter.
             Always careful and business-like, he left his
            testamentary dispositions and the accounts of his administration in perfect
            order. His will, which had been deposited with the Vestal Virgins and was now
            read aloud by Drusus in the Senate, made Tiberius heir to two-thirds, Livia to
            one-third of his private property. In case of their predeceasing him it was to
            be divided between Drusus (son of Tiberius), Germanicus, and his three sons, as
            “second heirs.” There were liberal legacies to citizens and soldiers and to
            various friends. The property thus disposed of was the res familiaris: the Patrimonium Caesarum—Egypt, the Thracian Chersonese,
            and other estate—went to his
            successor in the principate. The will contained an apology for the smallness of
            the amount thus coming to his heirs (150,000,000 sesterces) on the plea that he
            had devoted to the public service nearly all the vast legacies which had fallen
            to him. By the will Livia was also adopted into the Iulian gens and was to take his name. She was thenceforth therefore known
            as Iulia Augusta, and seems to have assumed that thereby, she obtained a
            certain share in the imperial prerogatives, a claim which led to much friction
            between herself and her son.
             Besides the will, and a roll containing directions as
            to his funeral, there were two other documents drawn up by Augustus with great
            care. One was a breviarium totius imperii, an exact account of the state of the Empire,
            the number of soldiers under colours, the amount of money in the treasury or
            the fiscus, the arrears due, and the
            names of those freedmen who were to be held responsible. As a kind of appendix
            to this were some maxims of state which he wished to impress upon his successor:
            such as, not to extend the citizenship too widely, but to maintain the
            distinction between Roman and subject; to select able men for administrative
            duties, but not to allow them to become too powerful or think themselves indispensable;
            and not to extend the frontiers of the Empire.
             A third roll contained a statement of his own services
            and achievements (index rerum a se gestarum). Meant to be preserved as an inscription, it
            is in what we might call the telegraphic style, a series of brief statements of
            facts without note or comment beyond the suggestiveness of a word here and
            there designedly used. Yet it is essentially a defence of his life and
            policy—the oldest extant autobiography. He directed it to be engraved on bronze
            columns and set up outside the Mausoleum. This was no doubt done, but the
            bronze columns have long ago disappeared. Fortunately, however, copies of the
            inscription were engraved elsewhere (with a Greek translation) in temples 0f
            “Rome and Augustus”, as at Apollonia in Pisidia and Ancyra in Galatia. That at
            Ancyra (Angora) exists nearly
            complete to this day, and some portions at Apollonia. No life of Augustus could
            be complete without this document, which is therefore given in an English dress
            at the end of this book.
             The Senate at once proceeded to decree divine honours
            to him. A temple was to be built at Rome, which was afterwards consecrated by
            Livia and Tiberius. Others were erected elsewhere, and the house at Nola in
            which he died was consecrated. His image on a gilded couch was placed in the
            temple of Mars, and festivals (Augustalia) were established with a college of
            Augustales to maintain them in all parts of the Empire, as well as an annual
            festival on the Palatine which continued to be held by succeeding Emperors.
             The usual foolish rumours followed his death. Some
            said that Tiberius did not reach Nola in time to see him alive; that he had
            died some time before, but that Livia the death of closed the doors and
            concealed the truth. Others even said that his death had been hastened by Livia
            by means of a poisoned fig; and professed to explain it by a piece of secret
            court history. Shortly before his death, they said, Augustus had gone attended
            only by Fabius Maximus on a secret visit to Agrippa Postumus in the island of Planasia, to which he had been
            confined since the cancelling of his adoption in A.D. 5; and that Livia fearing
            that he would relent towards him and name him as successor, determined that he
            should not live to do so, Fabius Maximus having meanwhile died suddenly and
            somewhat mysteriously. But the authentic accounts of his last illness and death
            give the lie to such an unnecessary crime. Unhappily the jealousy of the unforfunate Agrippa Postumus was
            a fact which helped to spread such stories, but it was a jealousy roused by the
            knowledge of some secret plots to carry him off and set him up as a rival, and
            “the first crime of the new reign”—his assassination by his guards—must, we
            fear, lie at the door of either Tiberius or Livia. Another report was that the
            soul of Augustus flew up to heaven in the shape of an eagle that rose from his
            pyre. Nor must the ingenious Senator—Numerius Atticus—be omitted, who declared on oath that he had seen the soul of the Emperor ascending, and was said to have received a present
            of 25,000 denarii from Livia in acknowledgment of this loyal clearness of
            vision.
             The prudent forethought of Augustus in
            regard to the succession answered its purpose. There was practically no
            break in the government. Tiberius was possessed of tribunicia potestas, which enabled him to summon
            and consult the Senate. He also, in virtue of his proconsular imperium, gave
            the watchword to the praetorian guard, and despatched orders to the legions in
            service in the provinces. There was, indeed, some question as to whether this
            imperium legally terminated with the death of the princeps, but the matter was settled by all classes taking the oath (sacramentum) to him, and all the
            powers and honours (except the title of pater
              patria, which he would not accept) were shortly afterwards voted to him in
            the Senate and confirmed by a lex. His professed reluctance to accept the whole burden only brought out more
            clearly how the work of Augustus had made the rule of a single man inevitable;
            “I ask you, sir, which part of the government you wish
            to have committed to you?” said Asinius Gallus. No
            answer was possible. A man could not control the provinces without command of
            the army. But he could not control the army if another man controlled the
            exchequer. He could not keep order in Rome and Italy, if another had command of
            all the legions and fleets abroad, and could at any
            moment invade the country or starve it out by stopping the cornships.
            And if a man had the full control of the purse and the sword the rest followed.
            It was well enough for the officials to have the old titles and perform some of
            the old work, but if the central authority were once removed there would be
            chaos. The Senate had attempted to exercise that central authority and failed.
            It could not secure the loyalty of men who, exercising undisturbed power in
            distant lands, soon grew impatient of the control of a body of mixed elements
            and divergent views, which they often conceived to be under the influence of
            cliques inimical to themselves. The provinces too as they became more Romanised
            were certain to claim to be put on a more equal status with Italy: they could
            only be held together by a man who had equal authority everywhere, never by a
            local town council. Augustus, indeed, did not realise this development, or
            rather he feared its advent. In his eyes Rome ought still to rule,
              but could only do so by all its powers being centred in one man, who
            could consult the interest and attract the reverence of all parts of the Empire
            alike. The success of this plan depended, of course, on the character of the
            man, and perhaps, above all, on his abilities as a financier; but, at any rate,
            it was impossible to return to a system of divided functions, and
            constitutional checks, which were shown to be inoperative the moment a
            magistrate drew the sword and defied them. So far the
            work of Augustus stood, and admitted of no reaction. Republican ideals could
            only be entertained as pious opinions, not more practical than some of the
            republican virtues, on the belief in which they were founded.
             
             CHAPTER XVTHE EMPEROR AUGUSTUS, HIS CHARACTER AND AIMS, HIS WORK AND FRIENDS
             
 | 
|  |  |