Maximin the Goth.—?Brutal Assassination of Alexander.—?Merciless Proscription.—?Revolt of the Army on the Danube.—?Rage of Maximin.—?His March upon Rome.—?Consternation in the Capital.—?Assassination of Maximin.—?Successors to the Throne.—?Popular Suffrage unavailing.—?Persecution under Decius.—?Individual Cases.—?Extent of the Roman Empire.—?Extent of the Persecution.—?Heroism of the Christians.

HE last chapter closed with the reign of Alexander Severus, in the year of our Lord235. His mother being a Christian, her son, though still, for popularity’s sake, supporting idolatry, was induced, out of respect to his mother, to ingraft upon the errors of paganism many of the noble teachings of Christianity. His death is associated with one of the most wild and wondrous of the tales of ancient times.

Alexander Severus, or the Severe, as he was called, from his puritanic severity of morals, was returning with his army from a war expedition to the East. On the plains of Thrace he stopped to celebrate the birth of a son. In commemoration of the joyful event, there was a display of all the military pageants and gymnastic games then in vogue.

The whole army, in gorgeous display, was drawn up on a spacious plain. Thousands of the neighboring people were assembled to witness the splendors of the fÊte. It was a clear and beautiful morning. All eyes were riveted upon the emperor, as, followed by a magnificent retinue, he came galloping upon the field.

Suddenly there sprang from the crowd of spectators a gigantic barbarian, a Goth. With the speed of an antelope, he bounded to the side of the emperor’s horse. Apparently without the slightest exertion, or the least loss of breath, he kept pace with the fleet Arabian charger, as, with almost the swiftness of the wind, the magnificent steed careered over the plain. This brawny young savage was eight feet tall, and was as admirably proportioned as the colossal statue of the Apollo Belvedere.

Giants have not generally much intellect; but this young Goth had great activity and energy of mind. His courage resembled that of a ferocious wild beast. He could tire out a horse in a race. He could break the leg of a horse with a blow of his hand. He could throw successively, with apparently the greatest ease, thirty of the ablest wrestlers who could be brought against him. He demanded for his daily food forty pounds of meat and twelve quarts of wine. Extraordinary as these statements appear, they seem to be well authenticated. Such was the young barbarian, who, rollicking, leaping, and gambolling around the emperor, attracted the attention of the vast crowd of soldiers and spectators who were spread over the plain.

Soon the games were introduced on the model of the world-renowned Olympic games of Greece. They consisted of all athletic sports of leaping, wrestling, boxing. This young Goth, Maximin by name, distanced all competitors. Sixteen of the stoutest wrestlers were brought forward to contend against him. Almost without exertion, he laid them, one after another, upon their backs.

Gunpowder has equalized strength. Asmall man can pull a trigger as well as a large one. The bullet shot from a rifle will accomplish equal execution, let the rifle be held by a dwarf or a giant. But in those days, before the invention of gunpowder, when men fought with clubs and battle-axes, with massive swords and heavy cross-bows, agility and strength were essential to the successful warrior.

The emperor gazed upon the feats of Maximin with astonishment and admiration. The giant was an unmitigated barbarian, whose father was a Goth, and whose mother was from a still more savage tribe, called the Alani. The emperor took Maximin into his service, loaded him with honors, and rapidly promoted him from post to post in the army, until he became one of the highest generals. The Roman soldiers, accustomed to do homage to the military prowess of muscles and sinews, regarded Maximin with great veneration.

Alexander had taken with him his Christian mother. She had great influence over her son. Avery sumptuous tent was provided for her, which was always pitched in the middle of the camp. This ungrateful Goth, Maximin, conspired against his benefactor. “Why,” said he, “should a Roman army be subject to an effeminate Syrian, the slave of his mother? Soldiers should be governed by soldiers; by one reared in the camp; by one who knows how to distribute among his comrades the treasures of the empire.”

By these means a mutiny was excited. The mutineers rushed upon Alexander, beat him down with their clubs, and hewed him to pieces with their battle-axes. With hideous clamor, the army proclaimed Maximin their emperor. This assassination of Alexander, and enthronement of the barbarian Goth, took place on the 19th of March, A.D. 235.

Maximin, invested with the imperial purple, was ashamed of his low origin, of his ignoble birth. He endeavored to put every one to death who knew him when he was an untamed savage. Four thousand were thus handed over to the assassin and the executioner. Conscious of his low breeding, his ignorance, and his ungainly address, he would not allow any person of cultivated mind or polished manners to appear in his presence, lest others should notice the contrast. He did not live in the gorgeous saloons of the palace, surrounded by a splendid court, where he would not be at home, and where he knew not how to behave, but remained in the camp, surrounded by soldiers who were ever ready to obey his most ferocious bidding. He avoided every thing which could bring him too broadly in contrast with metropolitan refinement.

This cruel despot was very ingenious in devising modes of torture for those whom he even suspected of being unfriendly to him. There was no form of cruel death to which he did not resort to avenge himself upon his enemies. Maximin was insatiate in his grasping for wealth. He even robbed idolatrous temples, and melted down into coin the exquisite statues of gold and silver. He hated Christianity, and ordered the churches to be burned, and the pastors and officers of the churches to be put to death. This persecution was short in its duration, but terrible while it lasted. Maximin reigned thirteen years. It seems short, as we look back upon that period through the lapse of fifteen centuries; but it must have been awful for Christians to have endured thirteen years of bloody persecution under such a monster.

There occurred several disastrous earthquakes during his reign. He attributed them to the displeasure of the gods, in consequence of the Christians forsaking the idols. Thus the fanatic fury of the mob, as well as the cruel energies of the governmental arm, were turned against the disciples of Jesus. The mob pursued all Christians with the most cruel and revolting outrages, and their vilest atrocities were sustained and encouraged by the government. Such was the persecution which raged nearly sixteen hundred years ago, and is now nearly forgotten; indeed, many are not aware that it ever existed.

Maximin was with his army on the banks of the Danube. He rewarded his soldiers abundantly with license and plunder. There was another Roman army in Africa. The soldiers there rose in revolt against Maximin. They chose Gordian, governor of the province, emperor. He was a wealthy Roman gentleman, eighty years of age. Ason of his was to share with his father the cares of empire.

But Maximin was not to be trifled with. Raging like a wild beast, and gnashing his teeth with fury, he put his army on a rapid march for Africa. In one bloody battle the troops of Gordian were almost annihilated. The son was slain in battle: the father in despair committed suicide.

The senate in Rome, detesting Maximin, the brutal barbarian monster, had ventured to espouse the cause of Gordian. The maddened Maximin turned his march towards Rome. The powerless senate was in utter dismay. Not only confiscation and death awaited them and their families, but death in its most cruel form. The whole city was agitated with terror.

There was every reason to fear that the barbarian, with his demoniac soldiery, marching beneath the blood-red banner of plunder and slaughter, would put the inhabitants to the sword, and commit the city to the flames. It was the customary vengeance for conquerors in those days to burn every dwelling of their foes, and to put every man, woman, and child to death, excepting a few of the young and beautiful, who were reserved to groom their horses, and to fill their harems.

The senate, in terror, made desperate efforts to meet the emergency. The populace of Rome were aware of their danger. Anew army was very quickly raised. Two emperors were chosen: one, a wealthy Roman noble, by the name of Balbinus, was to remain at Rome, and attend to the civil administration there; the other, Maximus, a brave and veteran soldier, was placed in command of the army, which consisted of the Pretorian Guard of sixteen thousand men, encamped just outside the walls of Rome, and such recruits as could be added to them.

Maximin, almost literally roaring with rage, was pressing forward by forced marches. Plunder, slaughter, and smouldering ruins, marked his path. He had crossed the Julian Alps. The wretched inhabitants fled before him. But at length his atrocities created a mutiny among his own soldiers. Afiendlike band rushed into his tent, pierced him through and through with their javelins, cut off his head, and, with derision and insult, paraded it on a pike through the camp.

All Rome rang with shouts of joy, and blazed with illuminations, when it was reported that the tyrant was dead. But anarchy ensued. The soldiery, composed principally of the most desperate vagabonds of the city, were not disposed to accept an emperor elected by the senate. Conscious of their power, they resolved to place one of their own favorites upon the imperial throne.

In a resistless, organized mob, they strode into the city in solid battalions, battered down the doors of the palace where the two emperors were in council, pierced them with a thousand spears, dragged their mangled bodies, by ropes tied to their heels, with hideous yells through the streets, and threw the gory remains into a ditch, to be devoured by dogs. In six months, five Roman emperors had thus perished by violence. Think how vast the change which the teachings of Jesus have introduced, refining manners, giving laws, purifying morals!

When we reflect upon such scenes, it is impossible to deny that the teachings of Jesus have wrought the most astonishing and salutary changes in the world. It is not too much to say, that pagan Rome in its palmiest days was far below Christian Rome in its greatest degeneracy. Christianity has introduced refinement of manners, more equitable laws, and morals immeasurably superior to any thing which existed around the shrines of idolatry. And yet these are only the incidental blessings, over and above the salvation of the souls of those who became spiritually the disciples of Jesus, accepted him as their Saviour, and who brought their hearts and lives into sympathy with his teachings. There were millions of such, who are now in the realms of glory, of whom history made no record.

The soldiers took a boy thirteen years of age, and, bearing him triumphantly to the camp, jocosely made him emperor. The senate, with sixteen thousand swords at its throat, was compelled to ratify their choice. Soon, however, an ambitious general, named Philip, poisoned the boy, and induced the soldiers to proclaim himself emperor.

It is said that this Philip had once professed Christianity, but, having yielded to the temptations which surrounded him, had been excluded from the Church for his crimes. He had an enlightened conscience; but his Christian character, as in many other cases, fell a sacrifice to his ambition. He was a weak man. Though he did not directly persecute the Christians, he did not venture to protect them. His reign was short,—only five years.

The army on the Danube chose one of their generals—Decius—emperor. The two rival armies, under their several sovereigns, soon met near Verona, and engaged in terrible mutual slaughter. Both sides were equally bad. God left them to scourge and torture and devour one another. It is thus that he often punishes wicked nations, by leaving them to destroy themselves. Philip’s soldiers were routed. They turned upon him, cut off his head, and joined the conqueror. Decius marched triumphantly to Rome, where the senate and people welcomed an emperor who could enforce his title with so many glittering swords.

To the eye of reason, nothing can seem more absurd than the doctrine of hereditary descent of power. That a babe, a feeble girl, a semi-idiot, or a monster of depravity, should be invested with sovereign power over millions, merely from the accident of birth, appears preposterous. But, if there be neither intelligence nor virtue in a nation, the chance of birth may give as good a ruler as the chance of popular suffrage.

Rome had become so dissolute, that had every name in the empire been cast into the wheel of a lottery, and the first one thrown out been accepted as emperor, the result could not have been more disastrous than that which ensued from the vote of the army and the senate.

In wolfish bands, savage hordes from the forests of the north came pouring across the Danube, plundering, burning, and putting to the sword all before them. Rome, weakened by division, was poorly prepared to resist such a foe. Decius marched timidly to meet the inrolling flood of barbarians. With hyena yells they rushed upon him, scattering his forces as wolves scatter sheep. Scaling the walls of Philippopoli, they slaughtered in cold blood the whole population, amounting to a hundred thousand souls. This was the first successful irruption of the barbarians into the Roman empire. This momentous event took place in the year of our Lord250. No tongue can tell the dismay which thrilled all hearts in Rome as the appalling tidings reached them that the barbarians had conquered and annihilated a Roman army, and were on the triumphant march to the capital.

Decius was slain: his body, trampled into the mire of a morass, was never found.

Under the reign of Decius there was a dreadful persecution of the Christians, which was commenced in Alexandria. We can infer its character from the following incidents. Ayoung Christian, named Matran, was first scourged with terrible severity; his eyes were then burned out with red-hot irons; he was then stoned to death. AChristian young lady, by the name of Quinta, had a long rope tied about her feet; then the brutal mob, seizing the rope, dragged her upon the run, with yells of derision and rage, over the rough pavement, till life was extinct, and the poor mangled body had lost all semblance of humanity. But we cannot proceed with this recital. It would be inflicting too much pain upon the sensibilities of our readers to have faithfully pictured to them the sufferings of the maiden Apollonia, of Sempion, and of many others, whose martyrdom history has minutely recorded.

Decius published a bloody edict against the Christians, and sent it to the governors of all the provinces. They were ordered vigilantly to search out Christians, and to punish them with the utmost severity,—by scourging, by burning at the stake, by beheading, by tossing them to wild beasts, by the dungeon, by seating them in iron chairs heated red-hot, by tearing out the eyes with burning irons, by tearing the flesh from the bones with steel pincers. Demoniac ingenuity was devised to lure them to sin, or to force them to renounce their Saviour.

In Smyrna, two eminent Christians, Pionius and Metrodore, underwent a rigorous examination. We have a record of the questions and the answers. Every effort was made by promises and by threats to induce them to recant; but they remained firm in their Christian integrity. They were then nailed to crosses, cruel spikes being driven through their hands and their feet. The crosses were planted in the ground, and heaps of combustibles were piled around for the funeral pyre. Before the torch was applied, they were again entreated to deny Christ.

“If you will do so,” said the proconsul, “the spikes shall immediately be drawn out, and your lives shall be preserved.”

Their only reply was a prayer to the Lord Jesus to receive their spirits. The flames crackled and roared around them, enveloping them as in a fiery furnace. In the chariot of fire, their united spirits ascended to the martyr’s crown. Page after page might be filled with similar recitals; but enough has already been said to give an idea of the frantic yet unavailing efforts which wicked men have made to obliterate Christianity from the world. These scenes remind one of the revelation written by the “beloved apostle” to the “angel,” or pastor, of the church in Smyrna:—

“These things saith the First and the Last, which was dead, and is alive: Iknow thy works and tribulation and poverty (but thou art rich); and Iknow the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan. Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and Iwill give thee a crown of life.... He that overcometh shall not be hurt of the second death.”175

Upon the death of Decius, the senate, terrified by the destruction of the army and by the approach of the barbarians, again chose two emperors. Hostilianus was invested with the civil, and Gallus with the military command. Rome, Christianity-persecuting Rome, had already sunk so low, that Gallus was compelled to the ignominy of purchasing peace with the barbarians on the most degrading and revolting terms. They were permitted to retire unmolested with all their plunder and with all their captives, consisting of thousands of Romans, young men and beautiful women, to till the soil, and serve in the harems of the barbarian Goths. By the law of retribution, this was right. Rome had made slaves of all nations: it was just that Rome should drink of the cup of slavery herself.

Gallus, the military emperor, wished to reign alone: he therefore poisoned Hostilianus. There was a Roman army on the Danube. The soldiers there proclaimed their general, Æmilianus, emperor. Gallus marched to meet him; but his soldiers despised his weakness, and slew him and his son, and then joined the army of Æmilianus.

The Roman empire at this time, about the middle of the third century, consisted of a belt of territory about a thousand miles in breadth, encircling the Mediterranean Sea as a central lake. All beyond were unknown savage wilds. Throughout all this vast region, Paganism was assailing Christianity with the most malignant and deadly energies.

And yet the zeal of the Christians was such, that while some, yielding to the terrors which threatened them, denied Christ, many went gladly to martyrdom. No one could tell how soon his hour would come. The life of the Christian was in daily peril from the executioner or from the mob; and yet many of those Christians, inspired with supernatural zeal and courage, devoted themselves entirely to the open and earnest preaching of the gospel.

“I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves,” said Christ. They accepted the mission. In the thronged streets of the city, like Paul at Athens, while some gnashed their teeth with rage, and others heard them gladly, they proclaimed salvation through faith in an atoning Saviour. Two and two they penetrated the villages, and wandered through the sparsely-settled country, with the sublime and astounding doctrine, that God, in the person of Jesus Christ, had suffered upon the cross to make an atonement for sin; and that now all who wished to reach heaven were to acknowledge this Saviour, and live according to his teachings, at whatever hazard.

Thus, notwithstanding the persecutions, converts were multiplied. For every one who was slain, perhaps two rose to take his place. The persecutors themselves, like Saul of Tarsus, often became converts, and preached that faith which they had once endeavored to destroy. Even the unbelieving Gibbon, who seldom loses an opportunity to show his hostility to the religion of Jesus, admits that the zeal of the early Christians in preaching the gospel, their fortitude under the most dreadful sufferings, the purity of their morals, and their love for one another, were among the potent influences which enabled Christianity to triumph over the imperial power of the CÆsars and the malignity of the mob, to overthrow all the gorgeous altars of paganism, and to establish itself firmly upon the ruins of the most imposing system of idolatry the world has ever known.