The Story of the Roman Empire: Or, The Kingdom of Iron - 10

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 14
 
THE history of Rome from the time of the retirement of the Gauls until the first Punic war, that is, the commencement of the long struggle with Carthage, was full of exceeding interest. The people began to rebuild the city, and the very troubles that arose produced a steadiness in their public conduct that had not been so noticeable heretofore. New laws, of a just and generally acceptable character, were passed, and the comfort and care of the workers in the community were more considered.
The enactments known as the “Licinian Laws” had a salutary effect, and made the citizens more ready to unite with the Patrician party in the common effort to render their position safer against the repeated attacks of their foes. One of these new laws prevented the acquisition of large areas of land by the wealthier classes, and ran thus: “That no citizen should possess more than 500 jugera1 of the public land, nor should feed upon the public pastures more than zoo head of large, and 500 of small cattle, under penalty of a heavy fine.” In former days the powerful men had monopolized all the public pasturage, and had rendered it impossible for the poor man’s sheep or oxen to be fed.
When, therefore, fresh enemies attacked the country, the people were more united, and time after time withstood bravely the most terrible onslaughts. One of the most stirring episodes recorded occurred in relation to Pyrrhus, king of Epirus. The Tarentines, originally a colony of Lacedaemonians, resented a breach in the treaty made with the Romans, and sent an Embassy asking this ruler to help them. Pyrrhus had boundless ambition, and listened to the appeal. He had a large army, noted particularly because of the elephants that accompanied it. The first battle took place on the banks of the River Siris. The Romans crossed it, and on both sides the most daring valor was exhibited: but at last the king ordered his elephants to attack, and the Romans, being utterly unaccustomed to this mode of warfare, and their horses being startled by the appearance of these huge creatures, they turned and took to flight, and the Romans left their camp in the enemy’s hands. Afterwards, as Pyrrhus looked upon the fallen soldiers, with all their wounds in front, he said, “If these were my soldiers, or if I were their general, we should conquer the world,” and he added, “Another such a victory as this and I must return to Epirus alone.” Indeed, so much was the king impressed with the splendid heroism of the defeated foe, that he sent Cineas his ambassador to endeavor to conclude peace with the Republic. His eloquence before the Senate almost prevailed, when a patriotic old member rose—Ap. Claudius Caecus—and declared that “Rome never negotiated with an enemy on her own soil.” This proud reply led Cineas to return to his master, saying, “The city was like a city of the gods, and the Senate like an assembly of kings.”
Soon after this the Romans sent C. Fabricius to secure, if possible, the exchange or ransom of prisoners. He was a typical Roman. When at home he just cultivated his own farm, but was trusted because of his known inviolable integrity. Pyrrhus tried his utmost to induce this splendid specimen of a true man to accept terms which the Senate considered dishonorable, but it was all unavailing. He offered him large sums of money, but it was entirely useless. Moreover, when persuasion failed, Pyrrhus caused an elephant that had been concealed behind a curtain to wave his enormous trunk over his head, as if to inspire fear: but Fabricius stood calm, steady, and apparently unmoved, without appearing to notice the creature. Finally the negotiations failed, but so impressed was the king with the nobility of the ambassador that he offered to let all the prisoners return to Rome to celebrate a certain festival, upon the understanding that they voluntarily returned, if the Senate ultimately refused the terms previously announced by Cineas. This it resolved to do, and the prisoners to a man returned, in accordance with the promise given to their conqueror.
Surely these things speak to us, even in this day, and show how elevated ought to be the character and the conduct of those who bear the name of Christ. Alas, how often we do not come up to the standard of honor and integrity exemplified in the histories of these famous men in days of old, pagans though they were.
 
1. A jugerum was rather more than half an acre.