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TARSUS TIED ITS hope for the future to the fortunes of Octavian. More than anything, the Tarsians wanted to see an end to the capricious cruelty that had accompanied the warring generals through one hundred years of bloody civil war. The definitive victory of Octavian over Antony and Cleopatra began to win for him the admiration of friend and foe alike across the empire. For one thing, he had acquired for Rome the vast wealth of the Egyptian culture. To everyone's delight, he used this wealth, and his growing popularity, to end the long history of civil war in Rome. Moving swiftly to win popular support, Octavian began a program of massive
reform. He insisted on honest government and a sound currency, he opened
free trade among the provinces, developed an efficient postal system,
improved harbors, and paved new roads everywhere. Tarsus buzzed with excitement when they learned that Athenodorus, Octavian's boyhood tutor had now become his most trusted personal advisor in Rome. Athenodorus had taught in the university at Tarsus and was known as a wise and noble man of principle. Local citizens claimed privately that Athenodorus was the true force behind the new and better directions taken by Octavian. Perhaps Tarsus would finally be treated well as a result of his high level of influence. But Rabbi Ben-Lemuel remained skeptical. In many a discussion with Benjamin and the city elders he made himself unpopular, claiming in ever more shrill terms, that Rome could not be trusted, even with Athenodorus near the seat of power. Any peace the empire achieved would fail, he claimed. "The last one hundred years of Roman civil war will tell you that! Trust God, my friends," he shouted. "Trust God alone." In Rome, Octavian could plainly see that there remained among the nobles and the military, deep loyalties to the old republican way of government. These irritations had erupted into violence again and again in the past. Republicanism had also found expression among certain disgruntled senators who attempted to frustrate Octavian, tying his hands with petty laws at every turn. In a shrewd maneuver, Octavian offered to resign and return to private
life knowing that the reforms taking place throughout the empire rested
on his power, popularity and influence. Without Octavian Rome would fall
into chaos in the hands of the divided and indecisive Senate. More civil
war would be the likely result. In the same exchange, the Senate also proposed to grant him the very real powers to direct all religious, civil and military affairs throughout the empire. Plus, the Senate agreed to take all hindrances out of his way by reducing its own position to the level of an advisory body. Beneath Augustus would be the legislative, executive and judicial branches of government. He could propose laws or decrees to assemblies or to the Senate, and he could personally administer, enforce and interpret them. Truly, the concept that one man would rule above the law in Rome was an idea whose time had come. When the deal was struck, and Octavian was publicly declared "Augustus"
with great pageantry and fanfare, his first act was to formally restore
the republican form of government. Under the circumstances of so much
optimism, this olive branch seemed to pacify the old warring factions
even though Octavian, now "Caesar Augustus," had become in essence,
Emperor. During this period of prosperity, Benjamin took over more of the cilicium business from his aging father. Ben-Lemuel seemed to have lost heart for the business as he continued to mourn the loss of his beloved Rebekah. At the same time, the new laws and improved road systems allowed Benjamin to forge better cilicium agreements with neighboring provinces. He began to deal in greater volumes than ever before. By the time he reached the age of 25 he had amassed wealth to exceed his father's. Certain councils of the city elders began to court his advice as an eminent young merchant. More and more, Ben-Lemuel was being left out of the circles of power he had once dominated. People respected him greatly, but hesitated to take him seriously, claiming that his mind had been affected by grief. He became the city's gray eminence. Benjamin was torn to see his father fading so. He had a local sculptor
carve a marble bench for him. He placed it at the spot where Rebekah had
fallen. After that, every morning he would find his father there, sipping
a cup of chamomile tea, a few leaves of mint floating in it. |
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