In the half century we are now entering, some seventeen emperors who may be styled legitimate holders of the title, pass in rapid succession before the view; and with only one or two doubtful exceptions they all meet a tragic end. Some reign for a few weeks or months, some for a few years; some are young, some are old; but neither the tender years of a Gordian nor the senility of a Tacitus can give protection from the imperial fate.
All this indeed is but a repetition of what we have seen in the half century just gone. There is no sudden transition, no marked revolution. And yet the time upon which we are entering has in other respects a character that is peculiarly its own. It marks a condition towards which the empire has been steadily tending; a condition that is the logical, the necessary outcome of the antecedent conditions we have studied. The essence of this new condition is found in the de-romanisation of the empire. From now on the rulers of Rome, with rare exceptions, are no longer Romans in the old sense of the word. Caracalla, to be sure, gave Roman citizenship to all free men in the empire, which list, it may be noted, included vast numbers of persons who had once been slaves. But the sweep of the imperial stylus, while it may make the Gaul and the Goth, the Dalmatian and the Dacian, the Syrian and the Arab, each and all Romans in the official sense, is impotent to change the racial traits of this heterogeneous company. The man from the provinces, who has never been within a thousand miles of Rome, may count himself a Roman citizen, may even glory in the name, but beyond peradventure his closest interests lie with his own kith and kin, with his own race, as against those others of his fellow-citizens who live in far-distant lands, and have habits, customs, and languages different from his own.
In the present connection this natural instinct comes to have much importance. It becomes increasingly evident that we no longer have a strongly centralised government. In the first instance nearly all the emperors are themselves men from the provinces. A great city is seldom the birthplace of the great men of any epoch. It has been said that Rome never produced a poet, and the briefest analysis of her great names will show that few men indeed whom posterity remembers were born within the confines of the city itself. But in the early day the great Romans were, for the most part, born in Italy, if not at the capital. In the first century, indeed, importance attaches, as we have seen, to a good many adoptive Romans who were born in Asia Minor, and to others who came from Spain—such men as the Senecas, Lucan, and Quintilian. In the second century of the empire, it will be recalled, two of the greatest emperors, Trajan and Hadrian, were Spaniards. But these are exceptional instances.
Now, however, we are entering upon a period when the Roman emperor, almost as a matter of course, is not an Italian. Maximin is a Thracian peasant, Philip is an Arab, Decius comes from Pannonia, Æmilianus is said to be a Moor; Claudius, Probus, Carus, and Carinus come from various regions of Illyricum. Some of these provincials visit Rome whenever a lull in the border warfares will permit. Philip the Arab, for example, makes Rome his headquarters; and by an odd freak of fortune it is this man of alien blood who is on the throne when Rome comes, in the year 248, to her one thousandth anniversary: it is he who conducts the magnificent secular games that mark the millennium.
There are rulers too, like Aurelian, who take an interest in the more intimate economical affairs of the empire, and who strenuously apply their energies to a reform of the currency, the debasement of which is one of the most significant features of the time. Aurelian fixes an honest value for the gold and silver coins, takes from the senate and from all cities but Alexandria the right of coinage, striving thus to fix more firmly the position of the seat of empire as the financial centre, and to give stability to the economic system. But his best efforts lead to mutiny in the present, and fall far short of hoped-for results in the future. Moreover, even an Aurelian, whatever his regard for Rome, finds his time chiefly occupied with the warlike affairs of the outlying provinces. He must dash from Syria to Egypt, from Egypt to Gaul; one revolt is not put down before another begins. And in this day it is no easy matter to transport an army from one part of the bulky empire to another.