he neither expected nor hoped—but that
he might die by a mode of death less horrible than
being devoured by fishes. Common as it was to
torment slaves, and to put them to death, Augustus,
to his honor be it spoken, was horrified by the cruelty
of Vedius, and commanded both that the slave should
be set free, that every crystal vase in the house
of Vedius should be broken in his presence and that
the fish pond should be filled up. Even women
inflicted upon their female slaves punishments of
the most cruel atrocity for faults of the most venial
character. A brooch wrongly placed, a tress of
hair ill-arranged, and the enraged matron orders her
slave to be lashed and crucified. If her milder
husband interferes, she not only justifies the cruelty,
but asks in amazement: “What! is a slave
so much of a human being?” No wonder that there
was a proverb, “As many slaves, so many foes.”
No wonder that many masters lived in perpetual fear,
and that “the tyrant’s devilish plea,
necessity,” might be urged in favor of that
odious law which enacted that, if a master was murdered
by an unknown hand, the whole body of his slaves should
suffer death,—a law which more than once
was carried into effect under the reigns of the Emperors.
Slavery, as we see in the case of Sparta and many other
nations, always involves its own retribution.
The class of free peasant proprietors gradually disappears.
Long before this time Tib. Gracchus, in coming
home from Sardinia, had observed that there was scarcely
a single freeman to be seen in the fields. The
slaves were infinitely more numerous than their owners.
Hence arose the constant dread of servile insurrections;
the constant hatred of a slave population to which
any conspirator revolutionist might successfully appeal;
and the constant insecurity of life, which must have
struck terror into many hearts.
[Footnote 20: Juv. Sat. i. 219—222.]
Such is but a faint and broad outline of some of the
features of Seneca’s age; and we shall be unjust
if we do not admit that much at least of the life
he lived, and nearly all the sentiments he uttered,
gain much in grandeur and purity from the contrast
they offer to the common life of—
“That people victor
once, now vile and base,
Deservedly made
vassal, who, once just,
Frugal, and mild,
and temperate, conquered well,
But govern ill
the nations under yoke,
Peeling their
provinces, exhausted all
By lust and rapine;
first ambitious grown
Of triumph, that
insulting vanity;
Then cruel, by
their sports to blood inured
Of fighting beasts,
and men to beasts exposed,
Luxurious by their
wealth, and greedier still,
And from the daily
scene effeminate.
What wise and
valient men would seek to free
These thus degenerate,
by themselves enslaved;
Or could of inward
slaves make outward free?”
MILTON,
Paradise Regained, iv. 132-145.