All this imagery becomes doubly forcible if we remember that when St. Paul wrote the words he was chained to a soldier, and in the close neighborhood of military sights and sounds. The appearance of the Praetorian guards was daily familiar to him; - as his "chains" on the other hand (so he tells us in the succeeding Epistle) became "well known throughout the whole Proetorium." (Philippians 1:13.) A difference of opinion has existed as to the precise meaning of the word in this passage. Some have identified it, as in the Authorized Version, with the "house of Caesar" on the Palatine:(f2599) more commonly it has been supposed to mean that permanent camp of the Praetorian guards, which Tiberius established on the north of the city, outside the walls. (f2600) As regards the former opinion, it is true that the word came to be used, almost as we use the word "palace," for royal residences generally, or for any residences of a princely splendor, (f2601) and that thus we read, in other parts of the New Testament, of the Praetorium of Pilate at Jerusalem (f2602) and the Praetorium of Herod at Caesarea. (f2603) Yet we never find the word employed for the Imperial house at Rome: and we believe the truer view to be that which has been recently advocated, (f2604) namely, that it denotes here, not the palace itself, but the quarters of that part of the Imperial guards which was in immediate attendance upon the Emperor. Such a military establishment is mentioned in the fullest account which we possess of the first residence of Augustus on the Palatine:(f2605) and it is in harmony with the general ideas on which the monarchy was founded.

The Emperor was praetor (f2606) or commander-in-chief of the troops, and it was natural that his immediate guard should he in a praetorium near him. It might, indeed, be argued that this military establishment on the Palatine would cease to be necessary when the Praetorian camp was established: but the purpose of that establishment was to concentrate near the city those cohorts which had previously been dispersed in other parts of Italy: a local body-guard near the palace would not cease to be necessary: and Josephus, in his account of the imprisonment of Agrippa, (f2607) speaks of a "camp" in connection with the "royal house. Such we conceive to have been the barrack immediately alluded to by St. Paul: though the connection of these smaller quarters with the general camp was such that he would naturally become known to "all the rest" (f2608) of the guards, as well as those who might for the time be connected with the Imperial household.

What has just been said of the word "praetorium" applied still more extensively to the word "palatium." Originally denoting the hill on which the twin-brothers were left by the retreating river, it grew to be, and it still remains, the symbol of Imperial power. Augustus was born on the Palatine; (f2609) and he fixed his official residence there when the Civil Wars were terminated. Thus it may be truly said, that, "after the Capitol and the Forum, no locality in the ancient city claims so much of our interest as the Palatine hill, - at once the birthplace of the infant city, and the abode of her rulers during the days of her greatest splendor, - where the red-thatched cottage of Romulus was still preserved in the midst of the gorgeous structures of Caligula and Nero." (f2610) About the close of the Republic, this hill was the residence of many distinguished citizens, such as Crassus, Cicero, Catiline, Clodius, and Antony. Augustus himself simply bought the house of Hortensius, and lived there in modest state. (f2611) But the new era was begun for the Palatine, when the first Emperor, soon after the battle of Actium, raised the temple of Apollo, with its celebrated Greek and Latin libraries, (f2612) on the side near the Forum. Tiberius erected a new palace, or an addition to the old one, on the opposite side of the hill, immediately above the Circus Maximus. (f2613) It remained for subsequent Emperors to cover the whole area of the hill with structures connected with the palace.

Caligula extended the Imperial buildings by a bridge (as fantastic as that at Baise), (f2614) which joined the Palatine with the Capitol. Nero made a similar extension in the direction of the Esquiline: and this is the point at which we must arrest our series of historical notices; for the burning of Rome and the erection of the Golden House intervened between the first and second imprisonments of the Apostle Paul. The fire, moreover, which is so closely associated with the first sufferings of the Church, has made it impossible to identify any of the existing ruins on the Palatine with buildings that were standing when the Apostle was among the Praetorian guards. Nor indeed is it possible to assign the ruins to their proper epochs. All is now confusion on the hill of Romulus and Augustus. Palace after palace succeeded, till the Empire was lost in the mist of the Middle Ages. As we explore the subterraneous chambers, where classical paintings are still visible on the plaster, or look out through broken arches over the Campagna and its aqueducts, the mind is filled with blending recollections, not merely of a long line of Roman Caesars, but of Ravenna and Constantinople, Charlemagne and Rienzi. This royal part of the Western Babylon has almost shared the fate of the city of the Euphrates. The Palatine contains gardens and vineyards, (f2615) and half-cultivated spaces of ground, where the acanthus-weed grows in wild luxuriance: but its population has shrunk to one small convent; (f2616) and the unhealthy air seems to brood like a curse over the scene of Nero’s tyranny and crime.

St. Paul was at Rome precisely at that time when the Palatine was the most conspicuous spot on the earth, not merely for crime, but for splendor and power. This was the center of all the movements of the Empire. (f2617) Here were heard the causes of all Roman citizens who had appealed to Caesar. (f2618) Hence were issued the orders to the governors of provinces, and to the legions on the frontier. From the "Golden Milestone" (Milliarium Aureum) (f2619) below the palace, the roads radiated in all directions to the remotest verge of civilization. The official messages of the Emperor were communicated along them by means of posts established by the government:(f2620) but these roads afforded also the means of transmitting the letters of private citizens, whether sent by means of tabellarii, (f2621) or by the voluntary aid of accidental travelers. To such communications between the metropolis and the provinces others were now added of a kind hitherto unknown in the world, - not different indeed in outward appearance (f2622) from common letters, - but containing commands more powerful in their effects than the despatches of Nero, - touching more closely the private relations of life than all the correspondence of Seneca (f2623) or Pliny, - and proclaiming, in the very form of their salutations, the perpetual union of the Jew, the Greek, and the Roman. (f2624) It seems probable that the three letters which we have last read were despatched from Rome when St. Paul had been resident there about a year, (f2625) that is, in the spring of the year 62 A.D.

After the departure of Tychicus and Onesimus, the Apostle’s prison was cheered by the arrival of Epaphroditus, who bore a contribution from the Christians of Philippi. We have before seen instances (f2626) of the noble liberality of that Church, and now once more we find them ministering to the necessities of their beloved teacher. Epaphroditus, apparently a leading presbyter among the Philippians, had brought on himself, by the fatigues or perils of his journey, a dangerous illness. St. Paul speaks of him with touching affection. He calls him his "brother, and companion in labor, and fellow-soldier" (Philippians 2:25); declares that "his labor in the cause of Christ had brought him near to death" (Philippians 2:30), and that he had "hazarded his life" in order to supply the means of communication between the Philippians and himself. And, when speaking of his recovery, he says, "God had compassion on him, and not on him only, but on me also, that I might not have sorrow upon sorrow." (Philippians 2:27.) We must suppose, from these expressions, that Epaphroditus had exposed himself to some unusual risk in his journey. Perhaps his health was already feeble when he set out, so that he showed self-devotion in encountering fatigues which were certain to injure him.

Meanwhile St. Paul continued to preach, and his converts to multiply. We shall find that when he wrote to the Philippians, either towards the close of this year, or at the beginning of the next, great effects had already been produced; and that the Church of Rome was not only enlarged, but encouraged to act with greater boldness upon the surrounding masses of Heathenism, (Philippians 1:12-14) by the successful energy of the apostolic prisoner. Yet the political occurrences of the year might well have alarmed him for his safety, and counselled a more timid course. We have seen that prisoners in St. Paul’s position were under the charge of the Praetorian Prefect; and in this year occurred the death of the virtuous Burrus, (f2627) under whose authority his imprisonment had been so unusually mild. Upon this event the prefecture was put into commission, and bestowed on Fenius Rufus and Sofonius Tigellinus. The former was respectable, (f2628) but wanting in force of character, and quite unable to cope with his colleague, who was already notorious for that energetic wickedness which has since made his name proverbial. St. Paul’s Christian friends in Rome must have trembled to think of him as subject to the caprice of this most detestable of Nero’s satellites. It does not seem, however, that his situation was altered for the worse; possibly he was never brought under the special notice of Tigellinus, who was too intent on court intrigues, at this period, to attend to so trifling a matter as the concerns of a Jewish prisoner.

Another circumstance occurred about the same time, which seemed to threaten still graver mischief to the cause of Paul. This was the marriage of Nero to his adulterous mistress Poppaea, who had become a proselyte to Judaism. This infamous woman, not content with inducing her paramour to divorce his young wife Octavia, had demanded and obtained the death of her rival; and had gloated over the head of the murdered victim, (f2629) which was forwarded from Pandataria to Rome for her inspection. Her power seemed now to have reached its zenith, but rose still higher at the beginning of the following year, upon the birth of a daughter, when temples were erected to her and her infant, (f2630) and divine honors paid them. We know from Josephus (f2631) that she exerted her influence over Nero in favor of the Jews, and that she patronized their emissaries at Rome; and assuredly no scruples of humanity would prevent her from seconding their demand for the punishment of their most detested antagonist.

These changed circumstances fully account for the anticipations of an unfavorable issue to his trial, which we shall find St. Paul now expressing; (Philippians 2:17, and 3:11.) and which contrast remarkably with the confident expectation of release entertained by him when he wrote the letter (Philemon 1:22, 23.) to Philemon. When we come to discuss the trial of St. Paul, we shall see reason to believe that the providence of God did in fact avert this danger; but at present all things seemed to wear a most threatening aspect. Perhaps the death of Pallas (f2632) (which also happened this year) may be considered, on the other hand, as removing an unfavorable influence; for, as the brother of Felix, he would have been willing to soften the Jewish accusers of that profligate governor, by co-operating with their designs against St. Paul. But his power had ceased to be formidable, either for good or evil, some time before his death.

Meanwhile Epaphroditus was fully recovered from his sickness, and able once more to travel; and he willingly prepared to comply with St. Paul’s request that he would return to Philippi. We are told that he was "filled with longing" to see his friends again, and the more so when he heard that great anxiety had been caused among them by the news of his sickness. (Philippians 2:26.) Probably he occupied an influential post in the Philippian Church, and St. Paul was unwilling to detain him any longer from his duties there. He took the occasion of his return to send a letter of grateful acknowledgment to his Philippian converts.

It has been often remarked that this Epistle contains less of censure and more of praise than any other of St. Paul’s extant letters. It gives us a very high idea of the Christian state of the Philippians, as shown by the firmness of their faith under persecution, (Philippians 1:28, 29.) their constant obedience and attachment to St. Paul, (Philippians 2:12.) and the liberality which distinguished them above all other Churches. (Philippians 4:15.) They were also free from doctrinal errors, and no schism had as yet been created among them by the Judaizing party. They are warned, however, against these active propagandists, who were probably busy in their neighborhood, or (at least) might at any time appear among them. The only blemish recorded as existing in the Church of Philippi is, that certain of its members were deficient in lowliness of mind, and were thus led into disputes and altercations with their brethren. Two women of consideration amongst the converts, Euodia and Syntyche by name, had been especially guilty of this fault; and their variance was the more to be regretted because they had both labored earnestly for the propagation of the faith. St. Paul exhorts the Church, with great solemnity and earnestness, (Philippians 2:1, 2, and 4:2.) to let these disgraceful bickerings cease, and to be all "of one soul and one mind." He also gives them very full particulars about his own condition, and the spread of the Gospel at Rome. He writes in a tone of most affectionate remembrance, and, while anticipating the speedily-approaching crisis of his fate, he expresses his faith, hope, and joy with peculiar fervency.

See Notes On The Epistle To The Philippians.

The above Epistle gives us an unusual amount of information concerning the personal situation of its writer, which we have already endeavored to incorporate into our narrative. But nothing in it is more suggestive than St. Paul’s allusion to the Praetorian guards, and to the converts he had gained in the household of Nero. He tells us (as we have just read) that throughout the Praetorian quarters he was well known as a prisoner for the cause of Christ, (Philippians 1:1.) and he sends special salutations to the Philippian Church from the Christians in the Imperial household. (Philippians 4:22.) These notices bring before us very vividly the moral contrasts by which the Apostle was surrounded. The soldier to whom he was chained to-day might have been in Nero’s body-guard yesterday; his comrade who next relieved guard upon the prisoner might have been one of the executioners of Octavia, and might have carried her head to Poppaea a few weeks before. Such were the ordinary employments of the fierce and blood-stained veterans who were daily present, like wolves in the midst of sheep, at the meetings of the Christian brotherhood. If there were any of these soldiers not utterly hardened by a life of cruelty, their hearts must surely have been touched by the character of their prisoner, brought as they were into so close a contact with him. They must have been at least astonished to see a man, under such circumstances, so utterly careless of selfish interests, and devoting himself with an energy so unaccountable to the teaching of others. Strange indeed to their ears, fresh from the brutality of a Roman barrack, must have been the sound of Christian exhortation, of prayers, and of hymns; stranger still, perhaps, the tender love which bound the converts to their teacher and to one another, and showed itself in every look and tone.

But if the agents of Nero’s tyranny seem out of place in such a scene, still more repugnant to the assembled worshippers must have been the instruments of his pleasures, the ministers of his lust. Yet some even among these, the depraved servants of the palace, were redeemed from their degradation by the Spirit of Christ, which spoke to them in the words of Paul. How deep their degradation was we know from authentic records. We are not left to conjecture the services required from the attendants of Nero. The ancient historians have polluted their pages (f2633) with details of infamy which no writer in the languages of Christendom may dare to repeat. Thus the very immensity of moral amelioration wrought operates to disguise its own extent, and hides from inexperienced eyes the gulf which separates Heathenism from Christianity. Suffice it to say that the courtiers of Nero were the spectators, and the members of his household the instruments, of vices so monstrous and so unnatural, that they shocked even the men of that generation, steeped as it was in every species of obscenity. But we must remember that many of those who took part in such abominations were involuntary agents, forced by the compulsion of slavery to do their master’s bidding. And the very depth of vileness in which they were plunged must have excited in some of them an indignant disgust and revulsion against vice. Under such feelings, if curiosity led them to visit the Apostle’s prison, they were well qualified to appreciate the purity of its moral atmosphere. And there it was that some of these unhappy bondsmen first tasted of spiritual freedom, and were prepared to brave with patient heroism the tortures under which they soon (f2634) were destined to expire in the gardens of the Vatican.

History has few stranger contrasts than when it shows us Paul preaching Christ under the walls of Nero’s palace. Thenceforward, there were but two religions in the Roman world; the worship of the Emperor, and the worship of the savior. The old superstitions had been long worn out; they had lost all hold on educated minds. There remained to civilized Heathens no other worship possible but the worship of power; and the incarnation of power which they chose was, very naturally, the Sovereign of the world. This, then, was the ultimate result of the noble intuitions of Plato, the methodical reasonings of Aristotle, the pure morality of Socrates. All had failed for want of external sanction and authority. The residuum they left was the philosophy of Epicurus, and the religion of Nerolatry. But a new doctrine was already taught in the Forum, and believed even on the Palatine. Over against the altars of Nero and Poppaea, the voice of a prisoner was daily heard, and daily woke in grovelling souls the consciousness of their divine destiny. Men listened, and knew that self-sacrifice was better than ease, humiliation more exalted than pride, to suffer nobler than to reign. They felt that the only religion which satisfied the needs of man was the religion of sorrow, the religion of self-devotion, the religion of the cross.

There are some amongst us now who think that the doctrine which Paul preached was a retrograde movement in the course of humanity; there are others, who, with greater plausibility, acknowledge that it was useful in its season, but tell us that it is now worn out and obsolete. The former are far more consistent than the latter; for both schools of infidelity agree in virtually advising us to return to that effete philosophy which had been already tried and found wanting when Christianity was winning the first triumphs of its immortal youth. This might well surprise us, did we not know that the progress of human reason in the paths of ethical discovery is merely the progress of a man in a treadmill, doomed forever to retrace his own steps. Had it been otherwise, we might have hoped that mankind could not again be duped by an old and useless remedy, which was compounded and re-compounded in every possible shape and combination two thousand years ago, and at last utterly rejected by a nauseated world. Yet for this antiquated anodyne, disguised under a new label, many are once more bartering the only true medicine that can heal the diseases of the soul.

For such mistakes there is, indeed, no real cure, except prayer to Him who giveth sight to the blind; but a partial antidote may be supplied by the history of the Imperial Commonwealth. The true wants of the Apostolic age can best be learned from the Annals of Tacitus. There men may still see the picture of that Rome to which Paul preached; and thence they may comprehend the results of civilization without Christianity, and the impotence of a moral philosophy destitute of supernatural attestation. (f2635)