Meditations | Page 5

were followed by complete success; but the troubles of late years had
been too much for his constitution, at no time robust, and on March 17,
180, he died in Pannonia.
The good emperor was not spared domestic troubles. Faustina had
borne him several children, of whom he was passionately fond. Their
innocent faces may still be seen in many a sculpture gallery, recalling
with odd effect the dreamy countenance of their father. But they died
one by one, and when Marcus came to his own end only one of his sons
still lived--the weak and worthless Commodus. On his father's death
Commodus, who succeeded him, undid the work of many campaigns
by a hasty and unwise peace; and his reign of twelve years proved him
to be a ferocious and bloodthirsty tyrant. Scandal has made free with
the name of Faustina herself, who is accused not only of unfaithfulness,
but of intriguing with Cassius and egging him on to his fatal rebellion,
it must be admitted that these charges rest on no sure evidence; and the
emperor, at all events, loved her dearly, nor ever felt the slightest qualm
of suspicion.

As a soldier we have seen that Marcus was both capable and successful;
as an administrator he was prudent and conscientious. Although
steeped in the teachings of philosophy, he did not attempt to remodel
the world on any preconceived plan. He trod the path beaten by his
predecessors, seeking only to do his duty as well as he could, and to
keep out corruption. He did some unwise things, it is true. To create a
compeer in empire, as he did with Verus, was a dangerous innovation
which could only succeed if one of the two effaced himself; and under
Diocletian this very precedent caused the Roman Empire to split into
halves. He erred in his civil administration by too much centralising.
But the strong point of his reign was the administration of justice.
Marcus sought by-laws to protect the weak, to make the lot of the
slaves less hard, to stand in place of father to the fatherless. Charitable
foundations were endowed for rearing and educating poor children. The
provinces were protected against oppression, and public help was given
to cities or districts which might be visited by calamity. The great blot
on his name, and one hard indeed to explain, is his treatment of the
Christians. In his reign Justin at Rome became a martyr to his faith, and
Polycarp at Smyrna, and we know of many outbreaks of fanaticism in
the provinces which caused the death of the faithful. It is no excuse to
plead that he knew nothing about the atrocities done in his name: it was
his duty to know, and if he did not he would have been the first to
confess that he had failed in his duty. But from his own tone in
speaking of the Christians it is clear he knew them only from calumny;
and we hear of no measures taken even to secure that they should have
a fair hearing. In this respect Trajan was better than he.
To a thoughtful mind such a religion as that of Rome would give small
satisfaction. Its legends were often childish or impossible; its teaching
had little to do with morality. The Roman religion was in fact of the
nature of a bargain: men paid certain sacrifices and rites, and the gods
granted their favour, irrespective of right or wrong. In this case all
devout souls were thrown back upon philosophy, as they had been,
though to a less extent, in Greece. There were under the early empire
two rival schools which practically divided the field between them,
Stoicism and Epicureanism. The ideal set before each was nominally
much the same. The Stoics aspired to the repression of all emotion, and

the Epicureans to freedom from all disturbance; yet in the upshot the
one has become a synonym of stubborn endurance, the other for
unbridled licence. With Epicureanism we have nothing to do now; but
it will be worth while to sketch the history and tenets of the Stoic sect.
Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, was born in Cyprus at some date
unknown, but his life may be said roughly to be between the years 350
and 250 B.C. Cyprus has been from time immemorial a meeting-place
of the East and West, and although we cannot grant any importance to a
possible strain of Phoenician blood in him (for the Phoenicians were no
philosophers), yet it is quite likely that through Asia Minor he may
have come in touch with the Far East. He studied under the cynic
Crates, but he did not neglect other philosophical systems. After many
years' study he opened his own school in a colonnade in Athens called