rule.
The first attempt, made under Claudius, was not a success: it ended,
in fact, with the banishment from the capital of every Jew, no matter
whether he believed in the Old or the New Testament. _Judaeos,
impulsore Chresto assidue tumultuantes, Claudius Romae expulit_
(Suetonius: Claud. 25). It was, however, a passing cloud. As soon as
they were allowed to come back to their Transtiberine haunts, the
Jews set to work again, exciting the feelings of the populace, and
denouncing the Christians as conspiring against the State and the
gods, under the protection of the law which guaranteed to the Jews the
free exercise of their religion. The populace, impressed by the
conquests made by the gospel among all classes of citizens, was only
too ready to believe the calumny. The Church, repudiated by her mother
the Synagogue, could no longer share the privileges of the Jewish
community. As for the State, it became a necessity either to recognize
Christianity as a new legal religion, or to proscribe and condemn it.
The great fire, which destroyed half of Rome under Nero, and which was
purposely attributed to the Christians, brought the situation to a
crisis. The first persecution began. Had the magistrate who conducted
the inquiry been able to prove the indictment of arson, perhaps the
storm would have been short, and confined to Rome; but as the
Christians could easily exculpate themselves, the trial was changed
from a criminal into a politico-religious one. The Christians were
convicted not so much of arson (_non tam crimine incendii_) as of a
hatred of mankind (_odio generis humani_); a formula which includes
anarchism, atheism, and high treason. This monstrous accusation once
admitted, the persecution could not be limited to Rome; it necessarily
became general, and more violent in one place or another, according to
the impulse of the magistrate who investigated this entirely
unprecedented case.

Was the hope of a legal existence lost forever to the Church? After
Nero's death, and the condemnation of his acts and memory, the
Christians enjoyed thirty years of peace. Domitian broke it, first, by
claiming with unprecedented severity the tribute from the Jews and
those "living a Jewish life;"[146] secondly, by putting the
"atheists," that is, the Christians, to the alternative of giving up
their faith or their life. These measures were abolished shortly after
by Nerva, who sanctioned the rule that in future no one should be
b